#also i keep working up the nerve to write ted/rebecca smut bc i am DYING for it but i dont' think i've got the dynamics down yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

professortennant · 3 years

Text

shall we dance? (a ted/rebecca ficlet)

The phone lights up, vibrating on the kitchen table, startling him. It’s the Diamond Dogs group chat sending thumbs up and encouragement. When he and Rebecca had started seeing each other, he had pretty firm boundaries about discussing the particulars of his relationship with his friends. Rebecca wasn’t a one-night stand (his only one-night stand, for that matter), she was their boss. But more than that, she was special.

And, honestly, up until now he hadn’t needed them. The transition from employer and employee to friends to more had been smoother than anticipated. They shouldn’t work on paper maybe, but there was something electric and addictive about being with her. Perhaps it had something to do with seeing each other at their lowest--sabotage and panic attacks and cracks in the veneer.

But dang it, some things just called for a little support and back up.

(”I told her I loved her and suddenly she’s acting like I didn’t get my cootie shot and I tell you, fellas, circle circle dot dot, I’ve been vaccinated since second grade when Penny Johnson wouldn’t play kickball with me until I--You know what, I got off track there, because I’m nervous and a little worked up and--”

“Ted,” Beard interrupted, looking even more sympathetic than normal. “Rebecca isn’t Michelle. She’s got her own set of baggage and maybe she doesn’t need you to give her all this space. Maybe she needs someone to stop her running away.”

Murmurs of agreement from Nathan and Higgins and a single grunt from Roy sealed the deal. The Diamond Dogs had struck again.)

Ted took a healthy sip of the red wine he had poured for them both, the takeaway he picked up from their favorite Italian restaurant around the corner warming in the oven, he debated on lighting a candle but figured that would have been overkill. He just needed to play it cool, not let her dance around the pink, heart-shaped elephant in the room.

Beard was right. Rebecca wasn’t Michelle. He couldn’t judge his and Rebecca’s problems on past relationships. And he hoped Rebecca certainly wasn’t lumping him in with ole Rupe-a-dupes.

“Ted?”

He startled, seeing Rebecca in the doorway looking surprised. “Did we have plans tonight? I thought I told you I couldn’t see you tonight, I--”

“Rebecca, listen, I know you said that but things have been feeling off between us and it’s driving me crazy and I couldn’t sleep--seriously, Ms. Shipley is going to evict me and--”

“Ted, everything is fine.” She leaned forward, pressing a soft, barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Really.”

But it rang hollow, the anxiety in Ted’s chest spiked. It felt like she was slipping away from him, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the words back: he loved her.

He searched for something, anything, to make her turn around and face him, to see him and talk to him, to stop avoiding him. And then, like a chain of lightning, it hit him.

Taking her hand in his, he tugged gently, leading her to living room, calling out to her home device to play music. Soft, trilling piano filled the silence.

“Ted, what--”

“Hey, hey--” He held out a hand to her, bowing slightly with a flourish. “Shall we dance?”

She frowned at him, eyes darting from his hand to his face and back. “I don’t understand.”

He shuffled closer, pulling her tentatively against him, one arm sliding around her waist and the other pulling their joined hands to his chest, slowly swaying them in a circle. His face nuzzled against hers, encouraging her to tuck herself against him. Maybe it would be easier to speak into shoulders and necks instead of open, vulnerable faces.

“I was thinking,” he said softly, voice low and rumbling in her ear. “Oklahoma worked pretty good, so maybe we could have something just for us? And I remember you recommending this particular phrase so, maybe when we have something we need to talk about, like, oh I don’t know, me telling you I love you--” She stiffens in his arms, moves to pull away, but he keeps a steady hold on her, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple--”and you run off faster than a deer seeing headlights on a backroad in Missouri, well, I think we should talk about it and dance.”

For a moment, there is only the sounds of piano music and the sounds of the city. And then she sags against him, slides her arm up his shoulder and threads her fingers into his hair at the base of his neck.

“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against his neck. He closes his eyes, heart leaping.

“You don’t have to say it back, you know, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he tells her, still slowly waltzing them around their living room. stroking the small of her back and occasionally pressing small kisses to the side of her head. “It won’t make me stop lovin’ you just because you’re not there yet. Unless,” he swallows hard, holds her a little tighter. “Unless you don’t think you’ll ever feel that way and--”

“No,” she says it so loudly, jerking back to look at him, eyes wide and pleading. “No that’s not it at all, Ted. I--” She closes her eyes and shakes her head as if trying to dislodge a wayward thought.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks her, twang dripping off the pet name as it always does. “Because I gotta tell you, I don’t know what to do. I want to give you space, but the last time I gave the woman I loved space, we ended up with so much space between us there was no comin’ back and I don’t want that for us.”

“I don’t want that either,” she confesses into the crook of his neck, her breath hot and sticky on his skin. He feels her press a kiss to the hollow of his throat before pulling back. Her skin is flushed, eyes glassy. “You scare me, Ted,” she says in a rush.

He stops swaying them side-to-side, but doesn’t let go of her. “What did I--”

She presses two fingers to his mouth, stops him from interrupting. (She had been delighted to learn that shutting Ted up was a lot more effective when she could simply lean over her desk and kiss him or occupy his mouth with other matters.)

“The last man that told me that he loved me, the last man who I thought I loved in return, took that love and twisted it into something that hurt me.”

“Rebecca, I would never--”

“I know,” she says with a small hiccup, tears at the corners of her eyes. “I know that,” she assures him, soothing her fingers over his concerned brow. “But old wounds linger.”

Ted trails his fingers down her jawline, cups her face in his palm and strokes his thumb over the sharp curve of her cheekbone. “I told you I loved you because that’s how I feel about you. No strings attached to that, not ever, not with me. Okay? And if you need your heart and your head to get on the same page, fine by me. I’m not going anywhere.”

When she kisses him, it is fierce and desperate, a week of dancing around each other has left them feeling disconnected. But she barely has to raise herself up onto her toes to press against him more firmly, slide her tongue against his, and scratch her nails against his scalp to light a fire in him. He grips her fiercely, kisses her back with everything he has, hands wandering over her backside and squeezing, pulling her against him.

He’s a firm believer of getting control over one’s emotions, but he’s pretty sure no one’s been faced with a handful of Rebecca and it bubbles out of him like a groan as he breaks the kiss to suck and nip at her neck, “Love you.”

She pushes him away and he winces, can’t believe he let himself get caught up in the moment, he’s better than this. An apology is on the tip of his tongue when she takes his face in both hands. “I love you, too, Ted.”

She grins at him shyly, eyes wide and shining with love and, in some ways something even more precious: trust.

Still, he has to make sure she knows he meant it about strings and expectations. “You don’t have to--”

But, as always, she’s three steps ahead of him. “I know, but I want to. I wanted to when you said it last week, but,--” She shrugs, trailing off. “Old wounds are still tender.”

He leans forward and kisses her softly on the forehead, lingering there for a moment, before pressing feather-light kisses to her nose and cheek and, finally, her mouth. She’s warm against him, pliant and loose, melting into him, pressing her hips against his, tugging at his hair.

(The food is forgotten in the oven, both of them settled and certain in their relationship. She isn’t running and he isn’t panicking. The bedroom walls hear nothing but the soft grunts and moans, the curses and panting, and the gentle trading of I love you over and over again.)

#ted x rebecca #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #it's just that i like the idea of them both losing their minds a little bc of old wounds and old relationships #but fighting through those insecurities together #(and also the lack of height difference is SO GOOD but i love that she's just a SMIDGE shorter than him sans heels and so she can do #my fave thing: tuck your head beneath your partner's chin or against their neck and just lean against them)#also i keep working up the nerve to write ted/rebecca smut bc i am DYING for it but i dont' think i've got the dynamics down yet #(i want rebecca to struggle to let go and ted 'i'm a caregiver' lasso to rEALLY take care of her and make her lose control #but i aLSO see rebecca blowing ted's goddamned mind and idk which i wanna write first #bc it's not like he'd say he's a vanilla sex kinda guy but rebecca....rebecca is so in control and knows what she wants and how she wants #to do it that he's just happy ot be along for the ride)#anyway #i love them #this was just writing practice

50 notes · View notes