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oneforthemunny · 7 months

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I have an idea!! trick or treating w janitor!eddie & the kids maybe or even rockstar!eddie. honestly any and all the dads going trick or treating with their kids would be fun to see :))

it's tricky |dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!nepo baby! reader|

you can read janitor!eddie's version here and the rest of my spooky story series here!

October 31st, 1999- Hawkins, Indiana

"You got it, Kensie." You coo, grinning at her sweetly, pushing the twin's double stroller in a soothing stride over the dried, fallen leaves that littered the sidewalks.

The four year old looked back, both hands clutching the plastic orange bucket, brown eyes rounded in pure fear, horror- like she hadn't done this at least fifteen times tonight.

"Go up, Kens. Go up with Sephy." Eddie nodded, standing by the path, hands balled in his leather jacket. It was definitely different from Calabasas, that was for sure. Colder, not that Eddie minded- it felt more like Halloween.

The streets filled with kids screeching and darting around in store bought or handmade costumes, not decked in designer looking runway ready being paraded around by their parents on golf carts. It was for the kids, not a social event. Plastic bowls filled with real candy, not whatever the fuck fruit leather is. That had finalized his decision to spend Halloween in Hawkins this year- give the girls a real Halloween.

Persephone gave her sister a bored look, eyes rolling when they met Eddie's with an unamused expression- she looked just like you. "Daddy, she's not going. She's scared." Persephone huffed, five years old and full of sass.

Eddie bit back a smirk. "Go ahead." He nodded towards her. "Kens, if you're not gonna go up, then come stand back here with me."

"No." Kensington shook her head. "You come with me."

Eddie blinked. Every atom in his body screamed "no". He was back in his hometown, with all the fuckers who never left and used to make his life a living hell. Yeah, he'd done better than anyone ever expected, that was an understatement, but he was in their arena here. On their turf.

"Kens, just go with your sister." Eddie countered, crouching to her level. "I'm right here."

"But I want you to come with me." Kensie pouted, arms crossed over her Belle costume, curls slipping out of the bun. "I don't wanna go alone."

The little shake in her voice, eyes rounding nearly pitifully, Eddie knew he was done for, hand reaching to hers, walking up the cobbled steps. You smirked, adjusting the blankets over the twins. He was such a push over now.

Eddie grimaced, heart pounding with dread when Kensington jammed a gloved finger into the doorbell. The door opened, an older man with a bright, festive bowl opening the door.

"Oh, hello there! Look at you." He grinned down at Kensie, her body curling into Eddie's leg, shy at the attention and the stranger.

"What do you say, huh?" Eddie muttered, hand rubbing down her back sweetly.

"Trick-or-Treat." Kensie squeaked, holding her bucket out slightly.

"There you go." The man laughed, dropping a colorful wrapper into her plastic pumpkin. "Have a good- Munson?"

Eddie's eyes snapped, meeting the man's eyes, face falling slightly. "No shit." Eddie muttered, eyes snapping to Kensie carefully. "Principal Higgins?"

"So it is you?" Higgins hummed, lips pressed together, bowl hugged to his hip.

Eddie could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Suddenly, he was seventeen again, being told he wasn't graduating on time. "Yeah, yeah, it is."

"Thought you were in Hollywood?" Higgins' eyes narrowed.

"We live in Calabasas." Persephone chirped, head poking around Eddie's leg. "Not Hollywood."

Eddie cringed slightly, shoulders tense. Higgins didn't scoff, didn't snap at her, no back handed comment- no. He smiled. Laughed.

"I'm guessing these two are yours?" He grinned at Eddie.

"Yeah, and the other two in the stroller- twins." Eddie pointed behind him. "They're with my wife right now."

"Right. The film producer's daughter?" Higgins asked. Eddie nodded, chest boasting with pride.

"Well, gotta admit, I never thought the kid that flipped me off when he finally graduated would do that much in life," Higgins looked at Eddie, eyes crinkling slightly in a smile. "But looks like you did really good for yourself, Edward. Congratulations."

"Thank you. I have." Eddie nodded, hand smoothing down Kensie's curls. "Good to see you, Higgins."

"You too, Edward. Happy Halloween." Higgins waved, shutting the door behind him.

"What candy did you get?" You asked, eyes bright when you looked at Persephone.

"I got Skittles." Persephone grinned, tilting her basket so you could see.

"Oh, you know those are my favorite." You grinned, pushing the stroller down the path with one hand, your free one grabbing Persephone's gloved hand to hold. "Will you share with me?"

"I guess." Persephone shrugged. "Can I go?" She asked, looking at Kensie and Eddie trailing behind the two of you.

"Sure, go ahead. Make sure you say 'thank you.'" You nodded. Her bright pink costume stood out even in the night time. She had insisted on being the pink Power Ranger, so you had a custom costume made. Not as fancy as the other mothers in Calabasas did, but nicer- warmer too. Fleece lined and thick so she didn't have to wear a jacket. It kills the look.

"Kensie, are you going?" You asked, looking at the small girl who had made her way into Eddie's arms.

"No." Kensie shook her head, face rubbing into Eddie's neck sleepily. "Can I sit in the stroller, Mama?"

"The stroller?" You asked, tone light and playful, hoping to keep her crankiness away. "There's no room in there for you, silly girl."

"But I want to." Kensie whined, lip jutting dramatically.

"Hey, stop that." Eddie warned. "I'm holding you. You don't need to go in the stroller."

Kensie's face twisted, nose scrunching furiously. "I want Mama to hold me." She reached towards you.

"Ok," You hummed, taking her in your arms, ignoring Eddie's protests. "I think I need to take the twins back anyways before they wake up, so we'll go back to Grandpa Wayne's, and Daddy will stay with Sephy."

"You know how to get back?" Eddie asked.

"Do I know how to walk in a straight line back to the house?" You lifted a brow. "Yeah, I think I've got it." Your tone clipped, rolling your eyes.

Eddie's lips twisted, rolling his own eyes. "Alright, Princess. We won't be too long." He muttered, pressing a kiss to your cold cheek.

"C'mon, Kensie. Let's go show Grandpa all your candy you got." You hum, one hand cradling her, the other pushing the stroller.

You made it look too easy, Eddie thought, eyes shining in pure wonder, total adoration at you. His bratty Beverly Hills girl turned into a mom- a good mom.

"Daddy, look!" Persephone giggled, waving the bright orange wrapper in Eddie's face. "I got a pumpkin one." She grinned proudly, the Reese's held between her gloved hands.

"Ooh, this is the good house, huh? We gotta remember that for next year. Maybe bring a couple costumes so you can keep going back, you think that would work?" Eddie grinned at the laugh Persephone gave.

"No," Persephone giggled, taking Eddie's hand while they walked to the next house. "They would 'member."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Eddie smiled, squeezing her hand lightly. "I think Grandpa has some back at the house anyways. I bet if you ask real nice he'll give you one."

"He already gave me one last night." Persephone said smugly. "Before bed, but he said not to tell you or-or you'd eat them all."

Eddie feigned shock, like he didn't see the whole "sneaky" interaction. Wayne pulling open the Snoopy cookie jar filled with candy, sneaking her one with a wink, finger pressed over his lips.

"He did?" Eddie gasped, Persephone giggling and nodding. "And you didn't share with me?"

"No," Persephone shook her head at him dramatically. "Grandpa gave it to me. You-You woulda ate it all!" She pointed at him.

Eddie's heart swelled with warmth, dimpled creased smile on his face. "Yeah, you're probably right, kid." He shrugged. "Will you at least tell me where he hid them?"

"No." Persephone shook her head. "But I'll let you have one of mine... and the dots."

"The dots?" Eddie's nose scrunched dramatically. "You're giving me the bad candy?"

"Yeah." Persephone chirped. "You can have what I don't want."

Eddie snorted. She was such your kid sometimes. "Thanks, kid. Make sure you say thank you, alright?" He patted her back lightly, leaning against the fence while she darted away in a flash of neon pink.

Bonus:

"This shit is so gross." Eddie gagged, chewing the impossibly stale but somehow chewy candy. "Who the fuck eats this?" He looked at the bright yellow box of Dots.

"You apparently." You giggled, feet in his lap, a pile of wrappers between the two of you.

The girls had gone to bed hours ago. Persephone was true to her word, leaving you and Eddie her rejects and one Reese's pumpkin. Luckily, Kensie had a few better options you sifted through.

Hocus Pocus played on a loop on the TV in front of you, volume lowered to a hush in the guest room of the Hawkins' home. "Stop eating it." You laughed, slapping the box lightly out of Eddie's hand when he ate another, retching dramatically again.

"It's so bad," Eddie shook his head, face puckered in disgust. "And I can't stop eating them."

"Here," You tossed him a Snickers. "Cleanse your pallet with this, you freak."

Eddie grinned, finger gliding under your foot playfully, making you squeal. "How's the baby doing?"

"They're down still, I think. I haven't heard them-"

"-No," Eddie shook his head, nodding towards you.

"Oh," You hummed, hand gliding down your tummy. You hadn't even started to show yet. "They're good. Liking the candy."

"I think it's a boy this time." Eddie grinned wide and bright, it made your heart skip. "You're less sick this time. You're always sick with girls."

"Yeah, maybe." You nod, unwrapping a Skittles bag. "Could be triplets this time, knowing our luck."

Eddie snorted, nearly choking on his candy. "Can you imagine?"

"A nightmare." You roll your eyes. "The twins almost killed me. I was huge."

"Yeah," Eddie's eyes darkened, grin spreading wider and wider. "You looked so fuckin' hot."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You're sick, Munson."

"I've been told that a few times before." Eddie smirked. "Never heard you complain though. You like it when I'm a little sick, don't you, baby." Eddie growled, tossing the candy to the side, hand wrapped around your ankle to pull you closer.

You squealed, drug through the pile of candy playfully, Eddie's wild curls silhouetted by the glow of the screen. He crawled over you, knees on either side of your hips, straddling you, hands by your head- a familiar position. A dangerous position.

Eddie's head ducked down, bangs tickling your forehead, lips pressed to yours while your legs wrapped around his waist, hands tangling in his hair.

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its-time-to-write · 9 months

Text

i know now it’ll pass - ch. 1

still me here

You have to understand, working at Nelson Road isn’t what everyone thinks it is. It’s a job. You’re not best friends with Ms. Welton, you don’t share inside jokes with Coach Lasso, and not a single member of the team could pick you out from a crowd. You talked to Keeley Jones exactly one time when she stumbled upon your office, lost in a hunt for Roy.

And none of that is bad. It’s not a bad thing. What it is is good money and security to get your own one-bedroom flat as well as food on the table and whatever else you might need. You have a few friends there and your direct supervisor is nice and overall it’s a great environment. You’re not sure you could ask for anything more.

It’s just not as glamorous as people believe.

Your friends think it’s great that you work in the same building as AFC Richmond legends like Roy Kent and Dani Rojas. They bombard you with questions every girls’ night, which you indulge with a laugh.

As you sip your drink on the couch, surrounded by friends and giggles, you decide you live a pretty great life.

—

You don’t sleep well. You never have, and you’re concerned you never will. You’ve taken to sitting on your front steps with a blanket and a cup of tea in the hopes that it will cause your body to produce melatonin so you can get enough sleep to get through the day. Your “tea time” is usually anywhere from 2am-5am, and you’ve woken up many a morning curled up on the steps.

There are two good things that come out of tea time: the sunrise and your increased ability to cover up the bags under your eyes.

This Monday is different in that it’s worse. Much worse.

You’ve been on the porch for three goddamn hours, since 1am, and nothing is helping. You’re so tired that your eyes feel like little weights, and yet you can’t fall asleep.

You’re leaning against a support beam with the realization that your work day is going to suck, when you see Jamie run by in the street. He doesn’t see you, what with it being 4:15am and all. Roy jogs by a few minutes later. You wince. You can tell his knee’s killing him by the way he’s running. He’ll probably take it out on the lads at training, and you find strange comfort in the knowledge that you’re not the only one who will be suffering at Nelson Road.

—

Oh god, you’re going to die. This is it, this is the end, death is imminent and you’re going to let the Grim Reaper snatch you with his scythe or whatever the hell he does with that thing.

See, Mondays are when you get all your steps in because you’re walking all up and down Nelson Road collecting signatures and passing around documents. It’s usually pretty nice and culminates in a stop at Higgins’ office, who will offer you whatever candy he has at his desk or sometimes a cup of tea.

(He has a knack for offering the tea when you’re especially tired. You’re not sure how he can tell, but chalk it up to the plethora of sons he has.)

Anyway, this Monday you’re on your way to meet Higgins with a bundle of papers in your arms and you must have blacked out ever so slightly because you rammed straight into the team coming in from the pitch for lunch.

Documents are flying and you’re wobbly on your feet and now there’s like twenty beefy footballers helping you scramble to pick everything up while you say, “Sorry, sorry,” on repeat.

“Not a problem, love,” says Jamie Tartt, handing you the completed stack. It’s a little wrinkled and haphazard, but all you can think about is the fact that you revealed yourself to be a klutz to the whole team.

Girls’ night is about to get embarrassing. Especially because Jamie’s hand brushed yours for a millisecond and it caused literal sparks to shoot up your arm.

You’re frozen as they walk away, silently cursing your stupid screwed up sleep patterns. You had better get some sleep tonight.

—

You don’t. Your mind keeps replaying that touch like you’re a middle school girl who’s just discovered boys don’t have cooties. You wrestle a few hours in between 11 and 3, but find yourself on the steps again by 4, definitely not hoping Jamie runs by again.

He doesn’t.

—

Tuesday is not worse, but it’s not better. You’re eating lunch at your desk because you’ve decided never to leave it again, but unfortunately Jim in HR needs a signature and you’re the one who has to get up so he can collect it. You sigh and close your laptop.

You’re padding to the other side of the building and congratulating yourself on the decision to wear flats today when you turn a corner and smack into something solid.

You stumble back but catch yourself before you hit the ground.

“God, I’m so sorry,” you say to Jamie Tartt’s blue eyes.

He half-grins. “Little wobbly there, innit?” he says before he’s gone.

Rats.

—

Tuesday night means you’re awake due to sheer humiliation. It’s bad enough that your celebrity crush is now Jamie Tartt, but the fact that you’ve literally talked to him twice and both times have been because you weren’t watching where you were going?

You have half a mind to email in your resignation, but as you put the kettle on for 3am tea you realize you need the stability Nelson Road provides. You’re not sure you can go back to living with three other flatmates.

Your only consolation is that there’s no way Jamie Tartt knows who you are or that his damn blue eyes are seared into your brain.

You’ve snatched five hours of sleep this time, and you’re hoping you’ll be asleep again before the sunrise, but the odds are not looking good. It’s Wednesday, and you’re going to need all the help you can get in order to make it through the longest day of the week.

Jamie runs by again. Roy notices you under the porch light and gives a two-finger salute as he hobbles by. You raise your cup in return, grateful that he at least will have no idea who you are, much less that you work in the same building.

—

Wednesday is fine except you’re exhausted, and Laughing Liam’s goddamn laugh is making your head pound. You set a timer and fall asleep on your lunch break.

—

You take a breath. Then another. And another. Deep breaths, you remind yourself. It’s not that big of a deal.

You skipped the porch in favor of staying in bed, with the hopes that maybe a softer environment would be more conducive for sleep. It wasn’t, and the bags under your eyes are not good. They are so not good that you can’t completely cover them. You feel so awful that you forgo tea in favor of coffee, extra strong. You down it in three burning gulps and head out the door, ready to face Thursday.

—

It gives you a headache, but you’re awake. You’re trying to kill the dull, persistent pain with some water but it’s not helping. You rest your forehead on the community water jug for a moment as footsteps walk past you, slow down, then backtrack.

“Porch girl,” says Roy Kent, recognition in his voice.

You turn your head, still on the jug, and nod. Roy Kent nods back and grunts, “You’re up fucking early,” then keeps walking.

Ah shit.

—

Friday. It’s Friday. It’s Friday and you held off from sitting on the steps until exactly 2:37 at which point you felt that if you stayed in bed any longer, you would suffocate or go crazy. Maybe both.

You set down an empty cup of chamomile and pull your blanket closer as you inhale the crisp air. You feel something like sleep creeping up on you, so you close your eyes and finally succumb to the call.

You wake to someone shaking your shoulder and an urgent voice saying, “Oi, you dead? Can you hear me?”

You blink groggily, aware of the fact that you’ve just gotten maybe an hour of sleep and it isn’t going to be enough to get you through the day. Tears begin to slide down your face, unbidden, as you try to control your sheer frustration at being woken up.

“Oh shit,” says the voice, then Roy Kent says, “You fucking broke her,” and you think maybe you actually are still asleep and this is all a dream.

But it can’t be because the hand is still on your shoulder, and it’s warm and solid and there’s no way your subconscious would be so cruel as to have Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent find you passed out on your front steps.

Your subconscious wouldn’t be so cruel, but the universe apparently is.

You force your eyes open. Jamie and Roy look concerned.

“You alright?” Jamie asks. “Thought you were proper dead.”

“Jesus Christ,” Roy mutters, turning back to you. “Look, we’re sorry for waking you. We’ll get out of your fucking hair.”

You nod mutely as they turn and jog off. It’s not until they’re well out of sight that you realize they didn’t even ask your name.

Table of Contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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willalove75 · 1 year

Text

New Girl on the Pitch Ch. 1

Pairing: Rebecca Welton x f!reader

Summary: Your friend Keeley brings you in as the team's social media manager, Rebecca is impressed, in more ways than one.

Words: 2,689

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn

Notes: This is my first fanfic so please be nice. I’m anticipating for this to be multiple chapters so bare with me while it kicks into gear. I'm open to any and all suggestions or comments!

You think to yourself that you would enjoy walking through Richmond, such a pretty, quaint town, if it wasn't so bitter cold. Today the cold isn't what's on your mind, your friend Keeley asked you to stop by and give her a hand with the teams social media now that she's helping with their PR. The wind whips at the hem of your jacket as you make your way to AFC Richmond, nervous for your first day, unsure of what you're about to walk into.

You don't know much about soccer, growing up in the US you were mostly exposed to football when your dad and uncles got together to watch their favorite teams play; other than that, you were never a raging sports fan. You've heard of the new AFC Richmond coach, Ted Lasso though, and you relax a little knowing you won't be the only American there.

Around the bend you see the big double doors at the entrance of the stadium and a friendly, familiar face. Keeley is standing there, waving and calling you over.

"y/n!! You made it! Oh I'm so excited you're gonna love this, follow me!"

She grabs your arm and pulls you into the building, guiding you through the halls. You try to take in as much of your surroundings as you can whilst being dragged along.

"Woah wait slow down Keeley!" as you pull back from her grasp "I want to see all of this"

You walk up to the trophy cases, looking at decades of hard work stuck behind a thin sheet of glass.

"wow, they must be really good, look at all of these trophies"

"they've played like shit the last few seasons" Keeley says matter-of-factly.

You're a bit surprised that she knows that since you've never pegged her to be a sports fan, but then remember she's dating the teams star player, Jamie Tartt.

"Jamie's been bitching about how poorly they've played and how he's the best thing that's ever happened to Richmond"

You roll your eyes "of course he did" as you side-eye your friend. You don't know why she wastes her time on someone like Jamie, an immature, entitled jock.

"Come on we have to go!"

Keeley grabs your arm and pulls you through the halls once more.

“Where are we going?!”

“To meet everyone!”

“Who’s everyone?!”

"So there's Coach Lasso, he’s the one from the US too! There’s Coach Beard-"

"Coach Beard? Is his name Beard or does he have a really cool beard so that's what everyone calls him?"

Keeley slows her pace down, a look of uncertainty comes across her face

"I mean he does have a beard, but I don't know if that's actually his name or not"

You both laugh and keep moving

"Then there's Nate, he's the kitman"

"The what man?"

"The kitman, he gives the boys their water bottles, sets out the cones during training, cleans up the locker room"

"So a glorified waterboy?"

"pretty much, next there's Higgins, he's the director of communications and Rebecca's assistant"

"Who's Rebec-"

Keeley cuts you off with a sharp stop in front of an office door and knocks as she walks in

"Rebecca, this is y/n! The one I told you about that's gonna help out with social media!"

Keeley pulls you into the office, your eyes dart around the room, landing on a desk in the middle. You look up and your eyes are met by beautiful pair of piercing green eyes, you feel like your breath was stolen from you for a moment. Keeley is talking but you don't hear her, you're too distracted by the woman in front of you.

Her blond hair, plump lips, gorgeous yet intense green eyes, this woman is beautiful. She slams her laptop shut and you snap out of it, you look over at Keeley who's still introducing you.

"y/n this is Rebecca! She's the owner of AFC Richmond"

You freeze and your eyes dart between your friend and Rebecca while your thoughts rush through your brain. You could kill her for not giving you a heads up.

"Oh wow, uh, hi, my name is y/n" you blurt out. Between the shock of just bursting into the owners office and the shock of how beautiful this woman is, you can barely talk.

She stands up from her chair and you're taken back by how tall she is. You look her up and down, taking note of her immaculate curves, her huge chest, her toned arms that would give Michelle Obama a run for her money. She looks like a beautiful, blond Amazonian woman. She towers over you, you have to bend you neck just to maintain eye contact.

"Yes, I assume your name hasn't changed since Keeley introduced you two seconds ago" she says and reaches out her hand. You can't tell if she's joking or not, but you can immediately tell that this woman doesn't fuck around. She doesn’t seem to take to Keeley’s bubbly personality like most people. You’ve always witnessed people softening up and relaxing a little while around Keeley, but not Rebecca.

As she leans in you get a whiff of her perfume, a gorgeous, light yet bold scent that smells like something only a woman of maturity would wear, it’s almost intoxicating. You sheepishly reach out your hand and meet hers. You're again shocked, this time at how firm Rebecca’s handshake is, you also take note on how soft her skin is. Her hand warms yours, since they’re still cold from being outside.

"Sorry if my hands are cold" you say as you pull your hand away and rub your hands together, trying to warm them up. The warmth from her hand keeps yours warm for an extra second and you feel a lingering comfort.

You stand there awkwardly for a second and look over at Keeley hoping she would break the sudden awkward silence.

Rebecca goes to speak when you hear another knock at the door. You turn around to see who you can only assume is Coach Lasso, with a small pink box in his hand.

“Good mornin’ boss! It’s Biscuits with the Boss time!” He says cheerfully, almost too cheerfully for this early in the morning. “Well who’s this here?” As he stops in his tracks in front of you.

Keeley excitedly says “Ted, this is y/n, she’s going to be helping me out with the teams social media!”

“It’s great to meet you y/n! We can use all the help we can get, I know nothin’ ‘bout the Facespace and tweeter or whatever it is you kids use now a days.”

He sticks his hand out and you go to shake his hand.

“It’s an honor to meet you coach Lasso-”

“WAIT you’re American?!” He seems almost too excited “Well wouldya look at that, if we start addin’ too many more Americans to the team these people are gonna think we’re tryin’ to take this country over, ain’t that right boss? And please, call me Ted.”

You chuckle at his joke “sounds good, it’s great to meet you Ted.”

The tension you felt earlier begins to subside as you shake his hand, you’re surprised at how comforting it feels to be around someone from the US, you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve been home.

“Well boss I got your favorite!” Ted says walking towards the desk.

You turn around and notice Rebecca’s eyes dart quickly towards Ted, “was she looking at me?” You think to yourself.

Ted hands her the box and she smiles back at him. You’re a little surprised given how unemotional she seemed a few seconds ago, but you can’t help but smile a little while looking at her. You’ve never seen someone’s smile light up the room like that, you begin to wonder how it’s possible for someone to look so flawless.

Rebecca seems to forget you and Keeley are in the room, she opens the box with an anticipation and excitement you were not expecting, it almost seems uncharacteristic for her; and picks up a biscuit and brings it to her lips. “I wish I was that biscuit” you think to yourself, then realize that that’s probably one of the craziest and dumbest things you’ve ever thought.

“Oh fuck me” Rebecca moans “Ted please tell me where you get these from, I must know”

Your body tingles at the sound of her moan, you feel yourself starting to get wet as a pulse shoots through your body down into your core. Now you really wish you were that biscuit.

“Well I’ve told you once boss, if I told you that we wouldn’t be able to have Biscuits with the Boss every morning!”

Rebecca seems irritated by his response as any lasting signs of anticipation and excitement she had just seconds before vanishes. Ted either doesn’t realize it, or doesn’t care. Either way, if she looked at you like that, you’d want to crawl under a rock and hide.

She glances over at you and Keeley and immediately put the box down, adjusts her posture and fixes her shirt collar. You think you see a flash of embarrassment cross her face, as if she forgot you both were there for a moment.

“Of course.” She says flatly. “Very well then, Ted I’m very busy this morning so I must get back to work.”

“Of course ya are! I’ll get outta your hair then.” Ted turns to leave and stops in front of you. “It was great to meet ya y/n, Keeley why don’t ya bring her down into our office later for a little meet and greet, what’d ya think about that?”

“That was going to be our next stop!” Keeley says excitedly

“Well great, see ya both soon then!” Ted says as he walks away

You turn back around and notice Rebecca had been looking straight at you while your back was turned to her, there’s no doubt this time. Her eyes quickly meet yours and you see the corner of her mouth curve into a slight smirk. You feel your cheeks get red and you look away. Usually you can read people really well, but for some reason, you cannot for the life of you figure out Rebecca.

“Well like I said I’m very busy and must get back to work” Rebecca sits back down in her chair, crossing one of her toned, long legs over the other.

“Come on let me finish giving you the tour! We’ll see you later Rebecca!” Keeley spins on her heels and turns to leave.

“It was nice meeting you” you say to Rebecca

“You as well. Welcome to AFC, y/n” she gives you a smirk and reopens her laptop turning her attention to the screen, as if you had already left the room.

Your heart skips a beat when you hear her say your name. You spin around and follow Keeley, lost in your own thoughts as Keeley talks about AFC. You try to pay attention but your thoughts are swirling. “She had to be checking me out, right?” “What was that smirk? Is she into me?” “How could someone like her even notice someone like me?” “She’s the fucking owner!! There’s no way she was checking me out”

As your thoughts continue to spiral Keeley stops and snaps her fingers in your face to get your attention

“Hello? Is anyone home? Have you even been listening to me?!”

“What? No of course I was listening?”

“Okay then what was the last thing I said?”

You panic a little, you definitely were not paying attention, but as soon as you confirm that, Keeley is going to haunt you about what you were thinking of and you can not tell her about the thoughts you just had about the owner! Your new boss!

“Uh, ‘okay, what was the last thing I said?’” You quickly reply

“Oh you’re a cheeky bitch aren’t ya? Where did you just go?!”

“I, uh, nowhere, I was just a little overwhelmed back there, that’s all. I had no idea she was gonna be the owner! A heads up would have been nice” as you playfully nudge her.

“Oh Rebecca is great!! As soon as I decided to not be afraid of her we’ve gotten along so well”

“What do you mean you decided to not be afraid of her?” You’re as equally surprised as you are confused at what Keeley said, since she isn’t often intimidated by others; but you also understand because Rebecca is as intimidating as she is beautiful.

“She’s fucking terrifying! But I decided to not be scared of her and it’s been great! She even showed me a photo a paparazzi took of her sunbathing naked”

Another pulse shoots straight down, she showed Keeley a naked picture of herself?! Who is this woman?!

“That woman’s tits are incredible! And they’re real! Can you believe that?!”

A third pulse shoots down, you feel your panties getting more wet by the minute

“What??” You try to mask the tone of surprise with confusion

“Oh come on don’t tell me you didn’t look at her tits! I mean they take up half of her chest it’s hard not to look at them”

“Uh, I mean, yeah I guess” you stutter. Keeley raises an eyebrow at you, she knows you usually aren’t lost for words like this. "I don't know dude she was fucking terrifying and she only spoke like five words!"

"Oh yeah she's absolutely terrifying,"

Phew, good save you think to yourself

"but once you get past that I think she's great! I mean, I haven't gotten too far past it just yet, but I like her!"

"If you say so! Come on show me the rest of this place!"

You divert the conversation to something else while two of you walk off towards the locker room and the coaches offices. If you two keeps talking about Rebecca, Keeley is gonna know something is up. "Well this was certainly not how I expected my first day to go, no less the first hour of my first day" you think to yourself.

You can't help but think of Rebecca for the rest of the day, both a little terrified but secretly hoping you'd see her again. You meet the team and everyone else. All of the players are really nice, except for Roy, you're convinced he only communicates in "fucks" and grunts. Sam was so sweet and then there was Jamie, who you've met before, and you still don't like him.

The day finishes just as quickly as it had started, you and Keeley walk out and see Rebecca opening the backseat door to her car. "Damn, she has a driver? She must be rich, rich" you think to yourself.

"Bye Rebecca!" Keeley shouts. Rebecca gives a half wave and climbs into the car. You make eye contact with her as she gets into the car, you're able to keep your eyes on hers without looking away this time and you swear she gives you a smirk as she closes the door. The tinted windows of the car made it hard to see, but you could almost swear that she was watching you as her driver pulled away.

Jamie walks over and puts his arm around Keeley "Come on babes, I need a foot rub" you roll your eyes at him and turn to Keeley

"Thanks for everything Keels, I had a great first day"

You two give each other a quick hug and part ways. You make your way back to your flat, not even noticing that it's colder out than it was this morning. Rebecca has been on your mind all day, tonight probably won't be much different. After a quick shower and some dinner, you crawl into bed but can't fall asleep. Your thoughts are swirling, you're not sure if you're just imagining things since you've been single for a few months now, or if Rebecca was really checking you out. You set your alarm for tomorrow and roll over hoping you'll doze off at a reasonable hour.

~ Chapter 2 will be posted soon! ~

#WillaLove #Ted Lasso #Rebecca Welton #Rebecca Welton x reader #Rebecca Welton x you #Rebecca Welton x y/n #y/n #ted lasso fic #wlw fanfic #hannah waddingham #don't judge me plz i'm new at this

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bisexualchaosdemon · 3 months

Text

The Raven King, Ch.1

Do you ever wonder if Wymack reflects on this conversation after Neil tells him what Higgins was really doing? After finding out what was really going on and knowing that it absolutely was not Andrew's fault in any conceivable way. Realising it wasn't an innocent act, Andrew genuinely hadn't done anything wrong, and no one believed him.

#(again)#out of everything in aftg this scene hurts so badly #gives me chills in the worst way #aftg #all for the game #coach wymack #andrew minyard #come be sad with me

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jamiesfootball · 3 months

Note

i canNOT wait for the next chapter of “oh god you’re gonna get it” i am shrimply vibrating about it, and anything and everything else you ever post. your writing style is SOOOOOOOO (i do not have the words to explain it. HAVE SOME ROSES INSTEAD!!!)

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Thank yooooooooooou

I am hard at work at ch 2! in the meantime have a clip from later on:

“We know Jamie’s your favorite—“ “Jamie’s not my favorite.” Nate stopped in his tracks, his hands frozen midair. He looked absolutely poleaxed, liked he’d been hit by a bus. Faintly, he said, “Oh my God, you’re being serious.” “Roy,” Higgins said in a voice that was offensively gentle. “Who do you think is your favorite then?” “On the team?” He nodded. Nate and Beard leaned in closer, their argument briefly cast aside so they could join in studying him like an animal. Roy crossed his arms. He refused to squirm under their scrutiny. “Sam,” he bit out.

#roy kent #diamond dogs #fic: oh god you're gonna get it (you have not been given love)#rose for a snippet #writing snippet #sighonaraa

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roseborough-if · 2 years

Photo

WILLOW / WILLIAM HIGGINS.

gender: selectable between cis female (she/her) and cis male (he/him).

age: 24 years old.

sexuality: queer.

occupation: tavern owner.

location: roseborough, tavern of rosebud.

favourite gift: vintage postcard.

Description:

Will is a friendly face and one of the few that aren’t immediately suspicious of you simply because you’re new and moved to Emerald Acres from the city. Maybe because they’re new in Emerald Acres themself, having bought the tavern in Roseborough only a few months before you arrived, so they know how you feel. Will tells you that they are looking for an adventure of their lifetime, but you can’t help but think that buying a tavern and settling in the middle of nowhere seems far from it. Will seems fun and flirty and you’re certain they would make you life in Emerald Acres more interesting than you expected should you give them a chance in romance.

Will enjoys collecting postcards, singing, vintage decor and having a good party every now and then. They appreciate people who don’t hesitate to make decisions and are interested getting to know new people and making friends.

Appearance:

Willow: She has deep sepia brown skin and almond eyes with sectoral heterochromia, rich brown mixed with pale blue. Her hair is midnight black and curly textured reaching her shoulder blades that she usually ties into a high bun while working, otherwise keeps it flowing free. Willow is 163 cm or 5′4″ feet tall and she has a petite, almost bird-like build with visible dark brown body hair all over her body. Her most prominent feature is freckled face and the thin, white scar slicing his left eyebrow. Her default expression is grinning widely.

William: He has a deep sepia brown skin and almond eyes with sectoral heterochromia, rich brown mixed with pale blue. His hair is short and midnight black and slightly more coiled in texture than Willow’s. William is 163 cm or 5′4″ feet tall and he’s skinny with visible dark brown body hair all over his body. His most prominent feature is freckled face and the thin, white scar slicing his left eyebrow. His default expression is grinning widely.

Willow prefers to wear colourful, especially red, dresses with white flat shoes while William usually dresses in t-shirts paired with overalls and sneakers.

#tales from roseborough #roseborough if #interactive fiction #if wip #romance options #ch: will higgins #character profile

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lunar-years · 7 months

Note

i would have only wanted another opportunity for ted to completely project his own wants and needs regarding paternal reconciliation on jamie if it came with the circumstance of him finally learning that not everyone wants and needs the same thing he does. considering what they did instead, i am confident that giving him more space to project on jamie again without learning the lesson would have driven me to an actual stroke

yep. exactly this.

#kind of like how i desperately needed someone to sit ted down in the first half of s3 and tell him he is being unacceptably bad at his job #like they all just go with it and never hold him accountable for anything and it's like????#lowkey higgins broaching firing him with rebecca was yet another moment in which higgins was a real one #ted lasso #jamie tartt #ch: ted lasso #asks

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hbyrde36 · 4 days

Text

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Chapter 12: Live Again

WC: 6195 | AO3 link | CW: Smut

For two weeks Eddie didn’t leave the house.

He wasn’t in hiding, exactly, he just… wasn’t quite ready for the outside world yet.

There was no one shouting for his head since Chrissy was alive and therefore he was never tied to the mysterious deaths in town, save for the fact that he’d been the lone surviving victim of the same killer, officially. The Hawkins Post called him a hero, for escaping, for living.

Most of the time, he didn’t feel much like one.

While he was struggling, everyone else seemed to be settling into life post-Vecna, their new normal, with ease.

The Byers moved back to Hawkins.

Joyce and Hopper, after his miraculous return to life that came with a cover story Eddie didn’t even want to know, had flown to California a day or two after the battle to pack up what was salvageable from the house in Lenora. The place had apparently been ransacked in their absence by the same sector of the government that had tried to capture Eleven, or so Dustin had said during one of his visits. Now they were back, one big happy blended family, staying at Hopper’s old cabin until they could find something better.

School started up again.

Jonathan, Will, and El still had to wait for their transfers to go through, but the rest of the kids, Robin, Chrissy, and Nancy all returned to the halls of Hawkins High like it was nothing, like the world as they knew it hadn’t irrevocably changed.

Maybe for them, it hadn’t.

Maybe Eddie was the only one having a hard time returning to his life.

He faked it well enough when anyone else was around, but in reality he barely ate and couldn't sleep—not quite able to believe that it was truly over, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. And on the rare occasion that he did manage to get some rest, he always woke in a panic, half-expecting to find himself back at the beginning again.

Though his injuries were essentially just a broken arm, Principal Higgins, in a rare show of mercy, agreed to allow him to finish out what was left of the school year at home, provided someone was willing to bring the materials to him and drop the completed work back off to his teachers the next day.

Chrissy was a godsend, who happily jumped at the chance to help him out now that she had plenty of free time, since her first order of business when school resumed was to quit the cheerleading squad. And, in what he could only assume was an effort to tank her reputation as thoroughly and as quickly as possible, sat with the kids at the Hellfire table in the cafeteria when lunchtime rolled around, to the collective bafflement of Gareth, Jeff, and Grant.

That had been a fun conversation to bullshit his way through when they stopped by to see him last week.

Chrissy was also the one person who, apart from Wayne, knew that he wasn’t doing well. With the amount of time she spent over at the trailer, it was kind of inevitable that he wouldn't be able to hide from her the way he could with the others.

He knew she wanted to ask, wanted him to open up and talk about all the reasons why he was having such a hard time moving on, but he couldn't. He wouldn’t burden her with all that, she already knew enough. She didn’t need to hear how a large portion of his nightmares featured her body breaking over and over again right before his eyes.

As far as the other thing, she knew something had happened between him and Steve, everyone seemed to know even if they didn't know what, but no one talked about it.

Just like in the hospital, Eddie didn’t ask, and no one else mentioned Steve either, which he’d been grateful for at first, not needing the painful reminder of how badly he’d fucked up, but it was getting infuriating, the not knowing.

He just wanted to know that Steve was okay, to see for himself that Steve was real, and alive.

Which was his only reason for agreeing to attend a movie night in the Wheelers cramped basement, surrounded by the smell of sweaty teenage boys and burnt popcorn. The potential of seeing Steve completely overrode his good sense.

Except, Steve never showed.

Nearly two hours of staring at the wall, and for nothing. He didn’t even know what movie they’d been watching, his thoughts too loud for him to pay attention.

When the credits rolled and the kids started to move around again, Eddie booked it up the stairs, needing some air and a smoke to calm his nerves, not realizing that Chrissy and Robin were following close behind him.

The cigarette was dangling from his lips, lighter halfway to his mouth when the two girls burst out the door he’d just come through. He raised a single eyebrow and continued to light his smoke.

Robin wrinkled her nose and waved a hand in front of her face reflexively. “I don’t know a nice way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it. You look terrible. I mean Chrissy said, but I didn’t think it was this bad. Are you okay?!”

Chrissy smacked her on the arm. “Robin!”

Eddie sighed, blowing out a long plume of smoke. “No, that was fair. I haven't taken a good look in the mirror lately, but I'm sure you’re not wrong.”

“Sorry.” Robin winced. “In Chrissy’s defense all she told me was that she’s worried about you, that it didn’t seem like you were handling life after the Upside Down so great.”

He thought about playing it off, the same way he had dozens of times before when different members of their little group had come to check up on him, but he was tired—tired of lying about it and far too tired to come up with any convincing bullshit.

“I’m not. You’re right about that, both of you. I, uh, don’t really sleep much these days? And anytime I do close my eyes—it’s a nightmare. Either a literal one, or I wake up not being sure if any of what happened was real, or if it was just another failed loop and I'm about to start back at the beginning again. I mean, it’s been two weeks but it’s like I can't accept it. I can't accept that it’s done. I keep thinking maybe if I knew how it happened, if I could somehow be absolutely sure that it won’t happen again, maybe I could relax, but… what are the chances of that.”

It felt good to say it out loud for once, to name it and let it out instead of keeping it all bottled up inside.

"I wish there was more we could do to help." Chrissy said, running a hand up and down his back, careful not to bump his cast.

"I know you have Wayne, and Chrissy of course, but you have me too—all of us.” Robin bit her lip, and he wondered if she was also thinking about the big Steve-sized hole in that—all of us, she claimed he had.

“We all get nightmares and stuff like that,” She continued, “And if you ever need to you can call me anytime, day or night.”

“Thanks, Buckley.” He said.

Wayne’s truck pulled up to the mailbox, the man himself waving from inside the cab.

Even with his broken arm Eddie could have driven himself just fine, but his uncle insisted on giving him a ride. He figured if it made the old man feel better there was no sense in arguing about it.

Eddie waved back, and turned to say goodbye to the girls.

“I guess I'd better go. Um, listen, Robin, is Steve okay? I just—I know he doesn’t want to see me, or whatever, but can you at least tell me that much?”

“I—He’s—Well,” Robin stuttered, opening and closing her mouth like a fish for a moment before finally snapping it shut. She studied his face, and seemed to come to some kind of decision, nodding to herself as she took a deep breath.

“Y’know what? Screw it, he can be mad at me if he wants to. Eddie, he’s a mess. He asked me not to say anything, especially to you, but—it’s so stupid! And it’s not like it’s some big secret that he hasn’t been around!”

Eddie’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

“He put in for a leave of absence at work. He won’t leave the house, won’t let the kids come over—he hardly even lets me see him anymore.”

“Oh.”

The truck’s horn went off, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet night air when the only other noise came from crickets chirping softly in the grass. All three of them jumped, looking around in a panic, and Wayne rolled his window down to shout out an apology. “Sorry kids! And I’m sorry to rush you, son, but I gotta get you home so I can get to work.”

By two o’clock in the morning Eddie had put his jacket on, gone all the way out to the van with keys in hand, started it, shut it off again, and gone back inside—twice.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Steve.

Which, in and of itself wasn’t unusual, the other boy was never far from his thoughts. A little over fourteen days since he’d seen him and it still didn’t hurt any less.

The full out rejection. The radio silence. The complete avoidance.

He’d expected the rejection, although he assumed it would have come after his confession, but beyond that he’d expected to retain, at the very least, an awkward friendship after that. They still shared a brood of freshmen, and whether they were… friends or not, that fact alone meant they’d be forced to interact at least some of the time.

But it was clear that even friendship wasn’t on the table, and till now Eddie felt like he had no choice but to sulk and accept it. What he learned tonight changed things. He was worried now. Steve wasn’t only avoiding him he was avoiding everyone, and it had to be his fault, somehow. Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew that much, and that meant it was up to him to fix it.

If Steve was avoiding the party in an effort to avoid him, well, maybe they could come up with a schedule, some sort-of joint custody agreement.

If it was something else? Eddie didn’t know what he’d do, but he’d figure it out.

He was still pacing the floor in the living room, wondering how early would be too early to show up at Steve's house in the morning to hash things out, when there was a knock on the door.

It was probably Max, he tried to tell his suddenly racing heart. She’d done it once or twice since he’d been home from the hospital, showing up in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep and saw his lights on. Still, he wasn’t about to get caught-out if it was someone less friendly stopping by for a visit this close to the witching hour, so he picked up the crowbar he’d taken to keeping by the door before easing it open to face whoever was on the other side of it.

“Wha—Steve?” Eddie stuttered out, genuinely unsure for a moment because the boy in front of him had hollow, lifeless eyes set above dark bruising, as though he’d slept even less in recent days than Eddie himself had. His hair was flat, face pale and drawn.

He was still painfully beautiful, because Steve could never not be that, but emphasis on the painful—the guy looked tortured, there was no other word for it.

Steve glanced around nervously, refusing to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I–uh, sorry to just show up—”

Eddie stood in the doorway, mouth agape, frozen in shock. He blinked hard wondering if he’d lost it, if he was hallucinating the other boy showing up on his doorstep like this.

“C–can I come in? Just for a minute.” Steve asked.

The urge to reach out and touch Steve to make sure he was real, was strong, but he resisted.

“Yeah, sure, o-of course.” Eddie turned, propping the crowbar back up against the doorframe and took a few steps towards the couch, assuming Steve would follow, but quickly realized that he hadn’t moved. Eddie glanced back over his shoulder to find Steve still standing on the threshold, staring up at a spot on the ceiling.

“You okay?” Eddie asked.

Steve startled back to life, clearing his throat awkwardly as he finally ventured inside, closing the door behind him.

Eddie sat down on the far end of the couch, hoping Steve would take the spot beside him, but instead he perched on the end of Wayne’s armchair across the room and dropped his head into his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. Eddie was about to ask again if the other boy was okay, a dumb question really when the answer was so obviously no, but before he could open his mouth Steve began to speak—soft, and slow.

“Robin called me. She said you've been worried… a-about the loops restarting? And that you said, maybe if you knew–”

He trailed off, and was quiet for long enough that Eddie had to say something.

“Steve, what–”

“The original timeline,” Steve rushed out, raising his head to look Eddie in the eyes for the first time since he’d opened the door. “I remember it.” He swallowed hard. “And I know what started all this.”

Eddie's stomach sank straight through the floor, and for a moment he lost all sense of the world around him, the sound of static and his own heart pounding was loud in his ears.

This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be real. He couldn’t possibly have heard Steve right.

“It was Owens,” Steve went on, his voice shaky. “Well, his people—the lab. I was there when they did it.”

Hearing that tremor in Steve’s words was what finally snapped Eddie out of it. This was happening, it was very real, and Steve was trembling from the remembrance.

“When we, uh—'' Steve dropped his gaze to the floor abruptly, as if suddenly realizing their eyes had met, and went back to staring at the carpet. “After we realized we’d failed, Robin, Nancy, and I, raced back to the trailer and I–I found Dustin sitting with y-y-your–” Steve stuttered, sniffling and wiping at his face roughly as he took a deep ragged breath.

“Your body. I checked for a pulse but you were gone… already going cold. It couldn’t even have been that long, but it was like that place was taking it from you, your warmth, and I—we couldn't just leave you there, so I carried you out. One of Owens’ colleagues, Stinson, she was there waiting for us on the other side.”

He paused, giving a little shake of his head. “She knew everything, including that we hadn’t killed Vecna because there were these huge cracks in the ground that ran all over town just like Nancy described in her vision. Then Stinson saw what I was carrying—you—and said she might have a way to help, a way to fix everything, but they'd need to take you with them. I–I couldn't just let them have you without knowing what they planned to do, so I went too, while the others went on to the hospital.”

Eddie was reeling, struggling to take it all in, to process what Steve was saying, all the while wanting desperately to comfort him somehow—but he was frozen in place.

“...Hospital?” He managed to ask, throat tight.

“Max.” Steve wrapped his arms around himself, glancing out the window in the direction of the girl’s house. “She was in some kind of coma or something. She died–”

Eddie gasped, bringing a hand to his chest. Red… he’d never known what happened to her in those first few failed loops.

“El brought her back,” Steve added quickly, head snapping back around at Eddie’s sharp intake of breath. “But she was dead—long enough to almost destroy the town. Four deaths, four chimes. It stopped spreading, the damage, when El brought her back but Vecna still won.”

“Steve, why–” Eddie began his question not even knowing what to ask first. It was all so much—too much.

“Why didn’t I just let them take you?” Steve guessed when he didn’t finish.

Eddie nodded, it was one of the many things he wondered about.

“I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I thought… th-the least I could do was make sure your uncle had a body to bury.”

Eddie threw a hand over his own mouth, stifling the sound that threatened to escape his throat as tears sprung to his eyes. He knew he’d died, and the dying itself had been no picnic, but to him the in-between had been nothing more than a bit of floaty darkness before he dropped back down into the world with a fresh start. He’d never really considered it from the outside—being a body for them to deal with, a lifeless husk that Steve had guarded if only so Wayne could have closure.

“We drove somewhere, maybe an hour outside of Hawkins where they’d built this big machine, kinda like, well, kinda like the Russians had under the mall, I guess. I didn’t understand most of it, science was never my best subject.”

Steve huffed a bitter laugh, rubbing his hands together as he continued.

“But, uh, they said it could reverse time, or like, send a few of us back for another chance at stopping Vecna? That’s what they wanted your body for—honestly it sounded crazy, like something out of one of Dustin’s science fiction novels, but they said they could use you and the moment of your death as some kind of anchor point, the event that would slingshot time back—and would keep snapping it back until you lived, and hopefully that would mean Vecna didn’t. We waited two days, until Eleven made it back. I wanted her there too so she would remember and be able to help. We were supposed to–” Steve swallowed back a sob, his chest contracting as he raked his hands roughly through his hair.

“Eddie, I'm so sorry. We were supposed to remember too, you were never supposed to be alone in this. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have had to—”

“No,” Eddie cut him off. “Don’t do that to yourself. None of that is your fault, ok? It’s over. He’s gone, and we’re here, and that’s all that matters now.”

Eddie rose from his spot on the couch, and had barely taken one foot in Steve’s direction when the other boy shot up out of his seat like it’d suddenly caught fire, rushing towards the door.

“Steve, wait.” Eddie called out, catching up in a few short strides.

Steve froze with his hand on the door, but didn’t turn around. “So, you see? You don't have to worry anymore. It's—like you said, he’s dead and you’re not. The conditions were met. It’s over. That’s all I wanted you to know.”

The handle turned and Steve began to pull the door open, but Eddie couldn’t let him go, not like this, not without—

Eddie crowded up behind him, reaching past to slap his palm on the door, keeping it closed.

“Please,” Eddie quietly begged, close enough now to feel the heat of Steve’s body, to smell his skin. “Just, please… can we talk?”

“What else is there to talk about?”

“What else do you remember?”

“Everything, Eddie,” Steve breathed, barely a whisper. “I remember all of it.”

Eddie dropped his hand from the door, stumbling back. He should have expected it, because why would Steve only regain his memory of that first time, but for some reason it took him entirely off balance.

“When?”

“The first night you were in the hospital.” Steve turned to face him, expression resigned. “I fell asleep on a chair in your room and it was like—like a flash of lightning inside my head. I woke up and suddenly it all came rushing back. I thought I was losing my mind at first but eventually I realized what it was—that I remembered.”

“Oh.”

That was why Steve had left the hospital and never returned. Eddie had been right all along. He’d been right to worry. Steve remembered their time together—the touches, the kiss, and he regretted it all so goddamn much that he’d rather disappear than be anywhere near him.

Eddie curled in on himself, almost wishing that he’d just let Steve go when he’d wanted to.

“Don’t worry,” Steve said, reaching again for the door. “I won’t tell anyone what happened between us. I know it didn’t mean anything to you.”

Eddie almost didn’t hear it, already so lost in the dark storm of his own thoughts that it took a second for his brain to catch up with what Steve said.

When it did? His heart stopped.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

Steve sighed heavily, leaning against the door as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. “It’s fine, Eddie, really—I’m used to it by now. You don’t have to explain, try and make me feel better or anything like that. I—It was dumb to even think you might feel the same. I-I’m sorry I kissed you like that, I was way out of line.”

“What are you saying? What the fuck is happening right now?”

Steve scoffed, a little life—a little fire even, returning to his eyes. “Don’t! Don't stand there and pretend like you don’t know exactly what–”

“I don’t!" Eddie shot back. "I-I thought… It’s all backwards! Don’t you regret kissing me? Isn’t that why you left me at the hospital? Why you’ve been avoiding everyone, because you didn’t want to be around me?”

“That’s not—I mean that’s part of why I've been hiding, but it’s also everything else. I don’t know how you carried all of this on your own for so–” Steve cut himself off, clenching his jaw. “And why shouldn't I regret it? Once I remembered, all I could think about was how hard you tried to stay away from me, no matter how hard I—like an idiot—tried to get close to you. You didn’t want to share a bed with me again until I basically forced you to. You didn’t want me there with you at the Creel house—you were so angry on that last day, so disgusted with me.”

“Steve, no, it’s not–”

“What else was I supposed to think?!” Steve snapped. “I kissed you, I put it all out there in front of everyone, and I’m sorry that I didn’t remember, but you did! You remembered everything and you didn’t tell me! Well, message received loud and clear.”

Oh god, Eddie knew he’d fucked up but he’d never dreamed—Steve had it all wrong.

“Sweetheart—”

“You said it didn’t mean anything!” Steve shouted, tears flowing freely down his face.

Eddie's already broken heart shattered into a million pieces.

“I lied!” He shouted back, the words ringing out in the sudden silence as Steve stared at him, mouth half open.

“I… I was so fucked up after you died—still am fucked up about it. I was devastated, and terrified, and everything had just been ripped away from me—erased from history, and I was alone again.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What was I supposed to do, Steve? What—how do you tell all of that to someone?!”

Eddie raked a hand over his face, blowing out a long breath. “Oh, hey, so I know you barely know me, and you won’t remember this, but we’ve spent the past week cuddling in your bed together and sharing our deepest thoughts and feelings and secrets, and then you kissed me, and now I think I’m in love with you?!”

Steve sucked in a breath, a wounded sound escaping his lips.

“You love me?”

Eddie sputtered, briefly considering making a break for his bedroom and locking the door until Steve left, but it was out there now, for better or worse. This had always been his plan, right? To tell Steve the truth—everything. It was time to stop running.

With all the courage he could muster Eddie held Steve’s gaze, and nodded.

“Yes.”

Without warning Steve surged forward, crushing their mouths together, and Eddie didn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss back. It was a desperate, almost painful thing, teeth clacking, and wet where their tears streaked each other’s faces.

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, cradling the back of his head as he deepened the kiss. In turn, Eddie gripped Steve’s side hard with his one good hand, trying to bring him in closer, whining when Steve broke away suddenly, only to rest their foreheads together.

“Eddie, I lo–”

“Don’t,” the word came flying out of Eddie’s mouth without his permission. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, please.”

“Eddie, I remember everything. I’ve been drawn to you since the very beginning. From the moment you shoved me into that wall in the boathouse it was like you brought the color back into my world, when I didn’t even realize it was missing.”

Steve smiled, cupping his cheek, and pressed their heads even more firmly together. “I love you too.”

Eddie sobbed, sagging in Steve’s arms as he pressed his face into the crook of the other boy’s neck. “I missed you so much.”

“I was right here the whole time.” Steve gently rocked them together.

“I know,” Eddie hiccupped, letting out the ghost of a laugh, though none of this was funny. “I know. It’s my fault. I knew I could try again, even if I couldn’t tell you how close we’d become. I could have tried to start over but I couldn't get it out of my head, how easily it was all just gone, how you were just gone and I—It was safer to not, easier, or so I thought. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Steve shushed him, pressing a kiss to his cheek and another under his jaw. “I’m sorry too, I should have talked to you, told you that I remembered, and let you explain like you wrote.”

Their lips met again, no less desperate than before. If anything it was moreso, hungry for each other on a maddening level after so much time apart and so many feelings thought unrequited.

Steve pushed his tongue into his mouth and Eddie welcomed the intrusion, moaning as he pushed Steve back until he was pressing him into the wall, caging him in, not once breaking the kiss.

And Eddie knew they should probably talk more, make sure they were on the same page, and they would, but for now he just wanted to feel him, smell him, taste him. He wanted to make Steve feel good.

His fingers played along the waistband of Steve’s jeans as he let his mouth roam lower, nipping and sucking at Steve’s neck, and came to rest on his fly, thumb grazing the button there.

“This okay?” Eddie asked, panting, lips still pressed to skin.

Steve nodded, breath hitching as Eddie went back to work on his neck, sucking a bruise into the side of his throat as he undid Steve’s jeans with practiced fingers.

Eddie sank to his knees, bracing himself with one hand on Steve’s thigh while he kept his casted arm tucked tight to his side. He looked up through his lashes at Steve’s flushed face, and grinned. “A little help?”

“Christ,” Steve breathed, quickly pushing his own pants and boxers down far enough to let his hardening length spring free, bobbing heavily right in front of Eddie’s face.

Eddie leaned in, ignoring Steve’s unfairly gorgeous cock for now, and rubbed his cheek along his thigh, mouthing at his balls and pressing lips everywhere except where Steve was so desperate to be touched.

Steve looked down with heavy-lidded eyes, reaching out to touch Eddie’s face, and Eddie shamelessly nuzzled into it.

“I dreamed about having you like this so many times.” Steve said, running his thumb along Eddie’s lower lip.

Eddie's own cock twitched, and he’d never been more thankful to be wearing sweatpants. He was already painfully hard and throbbing, it would have been unbearable in his usual tight jeans.

“You been thinking about getting me on my knees, sweetheart?” Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve’s length, squeezing gently as he lapped at the tip.

Steve threw his head back, gasping, “Eddie, fuck.”

“When was the first time? When did you realize you wanted to see me like this?”

As soon as the question was asked Eddie wrapped his lips around the head of Steve’s cock and sank down, slowly taking inch after inch into his mouth.

“The RV.” Steve grunted, breath stuttering as Eddie began to bob his head. “The very first time.”

Steve wound a hand into Eddie's hair, pulling it out of his face, gripping it lightly at the root. “It was so hot watching you hotwire it—you and those fucking hands. Then you called me big boy and I was a goner.”

Oh god, it really had been right from the beginning, and Eddie hadn’t known. He’d felt it himself, this pull towards the other boy even if he hadn’t really realized what it was until later.

Eddie moaned loudly around the cock in his mouth, taking it all the way down until Steve hit the back of his throat.

Steve shuddered, hips bucking. “It was the same in the second and third loops. You just–”

Eddie pulled back briefly to catch his breath, letting the head of Steve’s cock rest on his tongue as he stroked him with his hand.

“Oh fuck–” Steve squeezed his eyes, sucking in a breath, chest heaving. “Eddie, once I knew you each loop—every time—once I really saw you? I couldn't look away.”

Eddie sank down again, taking Steve right to the hilt this time with no build up. He doubled his efforts from before, swallowing reflexively each time the head of Steve’s cock slammed into the back of his throat.

“I’m close.” Steve hissed, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

It was the only warning Eddie had before Steve pulsed in his mouth, coating his tongue in hot bitter fluid. Not that he minded, not at all. He swallowed it down greedily, hollowing his cheeks as he worked Steve all the way through his orgasm, swirling his tongue around the tip of him as he finally pulled off.

Eddie sat back on his heels while Steve recovered and he caught his breath, swiping the back of his hand across his chin, wet with spit and a little bit of cum that had escaped the corner of his mouth. He glanced up, locking eyes with Steve as he cleaned off the mess with his tongue.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve breathed, his spent cock twitching valiantly at the sight. He quickly tucked himself away, pulling his pants most of the way back up before helping Eddie to his feet and taking him into his arms.

Steve’s lips were on him immediately, tongue fucking into his mouth like he was trying to mirror what they’d just done. Eddie was pretty sure he’d never been so turned on in his life, and when he felt Steve’s thigh slide between his legs, didn’t hesitate to grind himself against it.

He probably could’ve come just from that, feeling pent up and insane in the best way, but when his movements became too erratic Steve pulled his leg back. Eddie whined into Steve’s mouth at the loss, until he realized what the other boy intended.

Steve snaked a hand up under Eddie’s shirt, his fingers brushing through the hair of his happy trail, coming to rest just above the waistband of his pants as he pulled back from the kiss.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” Eddie begged, feeling like he might explode before Steve could ever lay a finger on him.

Steve wasted no time pushing Eddie’s pants out of the way, revealing his poor neglected cock, red and leaking at the tip, and though Eddie was pretty sure this was his first time doing anything like this with a guy, Steve wasn’t shy about taking him in hand—licking his lips as he spread the pre-cum around with his thumb to ease the drag.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly Eddie came over Steve’s fist, his vision nearly whiting out with the intensity of it, and he was pretty sure he would have fallen without Steve there to catch him.

When he’d recovered enough to stand on his own two feet, Eddie pulled the shirt right off his own back, for lack of anything else, and cleaned up the mess he’d made on Steve’s hand, enjoying the way the other boy’s eyes raked over his suddenly bare chest.

“Will you stay? We could share my bed this time?” Eddie asked.

Steve smiled, pulling him in close and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. “Nothing could make me leave you right now. As long as you want me, I'm here.”

Though the bed and the room were different, laying tangled together with Steve was just as he remembered, familiar and comfortable, and now with the added bonus of bare skin. Having no more reason to cover up with each other they’d both fallen into bed in nothing but boxers.

They faced each other, cuddled up in Eddie’s favorite position, his head tucked up under Steve’s chin, face pressed to his neck.

They were quiet for so long, just holding each other and for a minute Eddie thought Steve had fallen asleep, until he heard a sniffle and felt a drop of wetness land in his hair.

“Stevie, sweetheart–”

Eddie tried to look up, but Steve curled his arms more firmly around him, squeezing him tight.

“You were dead. There was so much blood, and you were dead in my arms and I can’t stop seeing it when I close my eyes.” Steve sucked in a sharp breath, a few more tears splashing the top of Eddie’s head. “I didn’t even know you that well yet and still–”

Eddie rubbed his hand along Steve’s back in soothing circles, giving him comfort and the space to grieve without pushing him to say any more.

When he was calmer, and his crying slowed, Steve spoke again. “Thinking back on it with how I feel about you now, I just, I don’t know how I'd survive if something happened to you.” He drug his lips along Eddie’s temple. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a crazy fucking thing to say so soon.”

Eddie pulled back, and this time Steve let him, so he could finally look him in the eye. “It’s not crazy, or if it is, I mean, I get it. I—Steve, I feel exactly the same way. I was already so far gone on you, and then you kissed me and it was–It was like you were giving me everything I ever wanted and more. But then you died. If Jason hadn’t come along and shot me that night, I would have done it myself just for the chance to bring you back.”

Steve tilted his head, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear. “Maybe we’re both crazy.”

“Maybe.” Eddie smiled, a little bittersweet for the truth of it. “I’m sorry that I didn’t try to tell you. I–”

“It’s okay. Baby, you don’t have to keep explaining yourself.”

Baby.

Eddie shivered, but he couldn’t let what hearing that one little word did to his insides distract him from what he needed to say.

“I–I was just so scared. I knew If I got too close to you again and it ended the same way, it would destroy me. I thought if I stayed away that I could protect myself, but I was already so in love with you. Staying away hurt almost as much as losing you would have. I think… a part of me was also worried that you were just exploring yourself with me, and I couldn’t handle the idea of only being your experiment. It wasn’t fair of me to put that fear on you, to not give you the benefit of the doubt. I was an asshole. I made a bad situation worse, and I’m just so sorry.”

“Are you still worried about that? That I’ll freak out about this, or change my mind?” Steve asked, not sounding mad or hurt, just wanting to understand.

“I’m trying not to,” Eddie answered honestly. “But, maybe—a little. There’s nothing quite like getting punched in the face right after your first kiss to make you cautious.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you. I promise this isn’t some fling or experiment to me. I–I meant it, Eddie. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter 13: Epilogue (coming in two weeks! 5/5)

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated, and if you want to be tagged just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Permanent taglist(open): @hitlikehammers @pearynice @penny00dreadful

Fic taglist(open): @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink @starlight-archer

#steddie fanfic #time loop #pov eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic

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xirayn · 1 year

Text

Like Biting Bats (Very Metal)

Read Ch 1 of the full fic here

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Featuring @aibhlynn as Eddie

The tape with Corroded Coffin’s music has been playing in Steve’s car on repeat. The few attempts to sing along have been made difficult by the live-wire energy of Eddie’s vocals. They tear through the instrumentals in a battle that neither side is winning. When Robin had heard it, she compared Eddie’s voice to a hot pepper overpowering the flavors of a chili, while Steve’s voice is more like chocolate. He had been lost until she explained that the best chilies use chocolate to balance out the heat of the peppers and enhance the flavors of the spices in that slow, leading way she does while waiting for him to catch up.

Steve tries again while waiting for Eddie in the school parking lot. The music is turned down so he doesn’t have to compete with it. His eyes close to help him better hear his spot among the melody and meter. After a deep breath, he stops trying to imitate Eddie’s voice, lets himself be Steve, and starts singing. Images of singing with Eddie come up as he does; seeing the way his dark eyes light up when they hit a harmony.

A thud against the window startles Steve. He twists around ready for a fight, but the sight of a paper with ‘B+’ at the top in bold, red marker by Eddie’s name has the adrenaline giving way to excitement.

It’s the last passing grade Eddie needed to graduate.

“Nancy did it!” Steve exclaims through the glass. His eyes move to Eddie, who was beaming like an absolute idiot. “You did it!”

“I did it!” Eddie whoops. He clutches the paper to his chest and does a joyous little jig before darting around the front of the car. He opens the door and flings himself into the passenger seat, quickly yanking the door closed and buckling his seatbelt.

“I owe Nancy the biggest thank you,” he laughs in a high voice that bubbles with excitement. The paper is held out as far as he can in admiration.

“Cake.” His expression gets impossibly brighter as he looks over at Steve. “We need to get a cake. And- I don’t know – ice cream. We can get everyone together and throw a party because I’m finally fucking graduating!”

“You’re graduating!” Steve clasps Eddie’s shoulder and affectionately shakes it, matching that infectious, celebratory energy.

“I’m graduating.” Eddie’s arms drop and he stares down at the paper crinkled between his fingers. His wild grin settles into something quiet and happy. He chuckles. “Man - how do you even plan a party?”

He has seen the graduation parties of his friends and peers who had ultimately left him behind, along with Hawkins High. Now it was his turn. He going to walk that stage, look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, flip him the bird, snatch that diploma and-

His eyes flick towards Steve.

“This is real, right? I passed? This is a B+ next to my name?” Eddie’s excitement was beginning to be tempered by disbelief. He’s rarely gotten above a C in anything.

“Yep. Just don’t cause too much trouble and it’s all downhill from here, man.”

Eddie scoffs, leaning forward to shove the paper into his bag. “Who do you think you’re talking to, Harrington?” He sits back up with a mischievous grin and prods Steve between the ribs. “Trouble is my middle name.”

“Alright, alright.” Steve swats away the finger jabbing his side. “Where does the future graduate want to go?”

They don’t have any obligations until band practice tomorrow since the kids are spending the night at the Hopper-Byers’ house. Vickie has also been having Robin over for ‘girls nights’ that Robin insists don’t mean anything. Even if it isn’t anything, Steve is happy for her. She deserves friends beyond him.

“I’m starving,” Eddie comments. He goes to poke Steve again, only to pull back before his hand is smacked again. A playful wink accentuates his grin. “Steak and Ale,” he suggests since the government is generously paying the hush money that allows for the occasional splurge, “or did you want to grab a pizza? There is also that new soda shop on Second Street.”

Steven snorts at the idea of them in a soda shop. For a moment, he imagines them as Sandy and Danny, the prep and the greaser, drinking a root beer float with two straws. Except that Steve is no Sandy in a way that has nothing to do with gender.

“Your choice, man.”

Tag list

@amoris-no-smut-allowed @zerokrox-blog @babyrunsforfanfic @killmeinmydreams @beeing-stuupid @impeachy @archerwithmanybows @alienace @awkwardgravity1 @nuttychaosface @lexyvey @beckkthewreck @obsessivlyme @artiststarme @icecweme @estrellami-1 @spectrum-spectre @newtstabber

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #steddie fic #stranger things au #steddie au #let steve be in the band

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no-side-us · 13 days

Text

The Invisible Man, Ch. 12 - The Invisible Man Loses His Temper

This chapter is basically some fun slapstick and violence, with every person in Iping running and jumping and falling over each other, or getting punted by Griffin and then running and jumping and falling over each.

My favorite moments are probably Mr. Bunting running through the streets naked cause Griffin stole all his clothes, making this earlier conversation funnier:

They remained listening. The conversation was rapid and subdued. “I can’t,” said Mr. Bunting, his voice rising; “I tell you, sir, I will not.” “What was that?” asked Henfrey. “Says he wi’ nart,” said Hall. “Warn’t speaking to us, wuz he?” “Disgraceful!” said Mr. Bunting, within.

And also Mrs. Hall being the only person who does not get involved in any of that nonsense because she's been "disciplined by years of experience," implying she's lived through similar moments of such chaos.

Now when Hall and Henfrey and the labourers ran out of the house, Mrs. Hall, who had been disciplined by years of experience, remained in the bar next the till.

Though there is one interesting line at the end describing Griffin's rage through the streets. It's small, but plays well into the whole idea of this story being a report after the fact.

The Invisible Man amused himself for a little while by breaking all the windows in the “Coach and Horses,” and then he thrust a street lamp through the parlour window of Mrs. Gribble. He it must have been who cut the telegraph wire to Adderdean just beyond Higgins’ cottage on the Adderdean road. And after that, as his peculiar qualities allowed, he passed out of human perceptions altogether, and he was neither heard, seen, nor felt in Iping any more. He vanished absolutely.

The sentences go from directly saying that Griffin did something to assuming he did something. It's subtle, and makes sense if you consider that there likely would have been witnesses to Griffin breaking windows and such, but nobody would have been around to see him cut a telegraph wire. Instead, that incident was presumably blamed on him afterwards. It doesn't even seem in line with the rest of Griffin's actions here as something done in anger.

Now, I don't remember if later chapters confirm that Griffin was the one who cut the wire, but these small moments do imply a thin layer of doubt to everything we read, which I think is a fun way to look at the story.

#the invisible man #invisible man #the invisible mail #hg wells

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all-hail-the-witcher · 10 months

Text

questionable government spies, but better written and 5 years late chapter 2: please don't scramble my eggs

back at it again :)

i got stuck in florida for 5 days and produced this

___

words: 750 (short but its necessary)

edited: yes :)

warnings: kidnapping, threats, gangs

tags: @jack-kellys @ainti-pretty @boygirlctommy (let me know if you want to be tagged)

ch 1 | read it on ao3

___

*24 hours earlier*

It was a normal day for Spot. Which should have been his first red flag. There were no normal days when you worked for The Anonymous.

Which was why he really shouldn't have been surprised when between one second and the next he was getting knocked out and thrown in a van.

Next thing he knew he was blinking his eyes open in a dim, dank room. One single lightbulb flickered annoyingly above him and thick rope dug into his wrists. Something chirped in the corner. Rats, most likely. Spot wasn’t sure if the higher ups in the gang simply had no money or just had a thing for shitty movie interrogation core rooms because believe it or not, this was not the first time that he had ended up in a room that looked like this.

“Sean Patrick Conlon.”

Fucking Christ.

“Oscar if you wanted to talk to me you could have just asked like a normal person,” Spot sighed. “We work in the same building. There was really no need to pull out all the stops for me.”

Oscar stepped into the light, a sickly smile stretched across his stupid face. The hilt of the silver knife he was rolling between his hands clicked against his many gold rings. Spot resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“You know you shouldn’t talk to me like that,” Oscar grinned. “Not after everything I’ve done for you.”

“I wasn’t aware that kidnapping me and tying me to a chair fell into that category”

Faster than he could blink, Spot felt the tip of Oscar’s knife digging into his collar bone. He ground his teeth together so he wouldn’t flinch. It wouldn’t do him any favors. He waited for Oscar to make some kind of smart ass comment, but what he said instead was far more terrifying.

“Why did you never tell any of us that you have a sister?”

Spot’s blood went cold. He hadn’t seen Grace in years. She had been placed in a different foster home than he had been after their mom had dropped off of the face of the earth and he had never been able to find her again after he had aged out. After a few years he had come to accept the fact that she had likely been adopted by whatever family she had been placed with.

He fought to maintain his composure. “So what if I do?”

Oscar was unfazed. “Grace Michaels. You know she’s living in the city? 42 West 64th street. She has a cat named Slippers. Her Amazon package is arriving today, she ordered a new 10 foot iphone charger. She left the house at 7:33am with her fiancée. Did you know she was getting married? I’m assuming he didn’t ask for your permission.”

Spot narrowed his eyes. Straining against the rope would just make Oscar more annoyed.

“His name is Patrick Cortes,” Oscar continued. “He proposed during their vacation two months ago in Italy. The date is already set for next November. She picked out her dress two weeks ago.”

“What do you want with Grace?” Spot asked, fighting to keep a straight face. In a way, it was comforting to know that Grace was still alive and seemingly okay, but if Oscar was interested in her then that might not last for much longer.

Oscar flipped his knife in his hands. “Tomorrow morning you are going to go to the FBI Headquarters in Times Square and you are going to turn yourself in. In exchange for your immunity you are going to offer to work with their agents in order to take down this organization. You will refuse to work with every agent except for Antonio Higgins. You will build trust with him and help him to infiltrate our organization. After one month you will double cross him, leading him to his death.”

“And why would I do that?” Spot had a sinking feeling that he already knew the answer.

“Because it would be a shame if your sister was in a horrible accident before her wedding, don’t you think?” Oscar smirked.

“You’re sick.”

Oscar shrugged. “It’s not my plan. This one’s direct from the higher ups.”

“Of course it is,” Spot muttered. “I’m assuming I have no choice?”

“Not unless you want your roommate to find your head on his doorstep.”

Spot tried to imagine Elmer opening the door of their apartment to his head in a cardboard box. Not a good mental image. Especially when Elmer thought that he worked as a security guard at a Hilton hotel.

“Do I have to kill him?” Spot asked. That was his one remaining boundary. Over the years they had pushed him to do worse and worse things, but he had still remained firm in the fact that he didn't want to kill anyone.

“No,” Oscar said. “The higher ups have a plan for him.” Spot resisted the urge to shudder. Hopefully whoever this Antonio was was an asshole so that he didn't feel bad about leading him to what was surely to be a terrible and painful death.

It was a lose lose situation and as usual, the only way out was through. That was how things worked around here. And the worst part was, he was stuck here.

“So are you in?”

“Yeah.” Spot hated that he didn’t even hesitate. “I’m in.”

___

:O evil spot

ch3 will be long and incredible to make up for how short this one is

let me know what you think !!!

#saphie scribbles #newsies #newsies fic #ralbert #sprace #spot conlon #spies 2.0 #sprace newsies #racetrack higgins

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its-time-to-write · 9 months

Text

i know now it’ll pass - ch. 5

I think these last two chapters are my favorite🥲 Lmk with you all think of the series bc I crave validation!!! No such thing as too many comments🥺🥺

still miss you

It’s the worst. You’re working in Manchester of all places, and you really wish that you were somewhere else. But they paid the most and offered housing and were able to hire you within two and a half weeks of your breakup. Higgins wrote a glowing letter of recommendation, and just like that, you were gone.

You’re going to miss your flat, you realize. You don’t even know who bought it. Doesn’t matter. They were willing to pay twice what it was worth as long as they were the offer you accepted.

It’s good that Jamie won’t see you around. Won’t have any lingering reminders. It’s good that you’re the one who ended things, because he won’t be able to blame himself for it. (He probably still will, you think, but you put that thought in a tiny box and put it on a shelf far away.)

Jamie doesn’t see you, but you see him. You see him in photos on the wall and hear him in the local voices and wish you could have just accepted his love for a little while longer.

You watch every single one of his games and cheer when he makes a goal. Or a pass. Or anything, really. He’s started running like Roy Kent did at Chelsea, like he’s angry at the grass. At least his anger is channeled into something productive.

Your new flat faces the sun, and you’re on the steps all the time. It’s not standard housing, it’s a real actual flat that Man City bought for you. It’s not big but it’s clean and yours and has a real, actual garden in the back. You think that you can manage this until you meet your neighbors and realize you’re really and truly fucked and the universe hates you.

You met the husband, Simon, on one of your sleepless nights. It was still relatively early, just 1:30, but you could tell that you weren’t going to get much sleep. Dr. Sharon transferred you to someone in Manchester, but now you were awake for different reasons. Jamie’s face kept haunting you so you kept your eyes wide open. Some mornings you’d wake up under the weighted blanket and think that it was him, in your groggy haze. Then you’d blink a couple times and remember that you’d broken up.

So you don’t sleep much. And now you’re on the porch with a cup of the tea Jamie’s mum recommended so long ago, the strong smell steaming into the air. As you sit down on your chair (you have a chair now) you hear a soft voice say, “Lovely night, isn’t it?” You nod and look over to see your neighbor sitting on his chair as well on the lawn.

“Sometimes I like to come out here and look at the stars,” he continues. “Can’t always see very many of them, but the fresh air is nice. I’m Simon, by the way.”

You nod again, give him your name, and sip your tea.

“Is that Sleep Plus by Twinings?” he asks. “I only ask because my wife swears by it. Has a cuppa every single night, so I’m well-acquainted with the smell.”

You smile. “Yeah, it is. A friend gave it to me. Said his mum loved it too. I have trouble sleeping, so…”

Simon nods. “Georgie, that’s my wife, used to have the same problem. Too many things on her mind, she said. But she’s been alright ever since we’ve been married. She says that it wasn’t really a chemical problem in her brain, but more the fact that she was always worried. Took me years to show her I wasn’t someone she needed to be worried around. But, I proved myself and here we are.” He chuckles fondly. “She’s upstairs snoring loud as can be.”

You sit in silence a while longer before Simon gets up and says, “Lovely to meet you. I’ll have Georgie invite you ‘round for tea sometime.”

Tea with your neighbors sounds wonderful until you walk into their flat and see pictures of Georgie’s son on the walls and on tables and on the fridge and in basically every possible space she can find. Simon mentions how he researched creative things to do with photographs because it “helps Georgie when she misses him,” and you know for an absolute fact that the universe has a personal hatred for you.

It has to, because why else would you have unwittingly gotten a flat right next to Jamie’s parents?

You force yourself to behave as normally as possible and thank them for a lovely meal. Georgie grabs your arm on the way out and says you ought to come over again some time. She hugs you and tells you she didn’t have a sparkle in her eyes at your age, either. She knows what it’s like and maybe you can have tea together tomorrow night, just the two of you. Talk about it and maybe you don’t have to struggle as much as she did.

You don’t smile at her, but she doesn’t mind. Georgie reaches out a hand to wipe away a tear and says, “Oh love. It’ll be alright. You’re not alone all the way out here. I miss my son something terrible and I can see you’re missing someone too. You’ve already made me feel better and I hope I can help you the way you’ve helped me. Good to have someone young around here.”

She’s smiling, and you realize she and Jamie have the same soft eyes.

Georgie hugs you tight again before you can bolt out the door. “You’re not alone, sweetheart,” she whispers. “You’ll be alright.”

—

Simon and Georgie are a godsend. Sure, you have to suffer their son staring down at you from his various portraits in the house, but you can talk to them. They’re like parents with the way Georgie hugs you and Simon is always bringing over excess baked goods. They’re always available to talk and listen, to laugh and sometimes, to cry.

Georgie tells you about her ex-husband one nights and it’s enough to make you sob. You tell her about your ex-boyfriend (the bad one) through gasps while she rubs your back and murmurs, “I’m right here, love.”

“How were you able to be with Simon?” you ask once you’ve calmed down. “I just can’t understand that. I’ve tried, I really have, but I was just waiting for him to get tired of me. And I’m not positive he ever would have.”

Georgie thinks for a moment. “I think I finally realized that James was not the standard for all men. He and Simon were very different, and Simon always showed me he respected me as a person. It took years of that, but here we are.” She laughs. “He’s a very patient man. Not many would put up with me and my Jamie.”

Jamie was patient. And funny. And the exact opposite of your ex. He’s confident with a touch of arrogance, but it’s the kind of confidence that’s contagious as opposed to oppressive. He’s sweet and thoughtful, and does things without expecting something in return. He likes to make you smile just for the sake of it, and you like to do the same.

You’re shaken from your reverie by Georgie saying, “That reminds me, Jamie’s coming into town this weekend. You should come over to meet him.”

She and Simon share a not-so-subtle glance that means you should date our son and become our actual daughter-in-law because you’re basically already ours, and that’s when you decide you’re going to be horribly ill.

“I’d love to,” you say out loud. “I’ll check my calendar.”

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