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ruewritesoccasionally · 29 days ago

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Welcome to the Neighbourhood | Terry Richmond

pairings: neighbour!terry richmond x neighbour!black reader

warnings: smut 18+, fluff, slow burn (if you squint), slightly rough/dom!terry - lmk if you think i missed anything else

summary: ready to put shelby springs behind him, terry ventures to start afresh - new job and new neighbourhood but the last thing he was expecting was to have an attractive neighbour waltz in and send his head spinning

word count: 5.4K

Shelby Springs had taken everything from him—his peace, his purpose, his faith in people. But Terrance Richmond wasn’t a man to let the past define him. He had to rebuild, brick by brick, until there was nothing left of the anger, pain, or memories that weighed him down. Once he’d made his peace, routine became his salvation. If there was one thing Terry wasn’t, it was idle.

Standing at 6’2, with muscles that didn’t come from sitting still, he carried himself with the discipline of a former Marine. He threw himself into rebuilding his life with the same focus, which is why the executive protection job posting felt like fate. It was an opportunity to start over. A new job, a new city—it wasn’t nature like he was used to, but he wasn’t about to say no to a clean slate.

The last of the moving boxes sat stacked on his driveway, waiting to be carried inside. As Terry hoisted one of the heavier ones, headlights flashed across his yard, catching his attention. His eyes followed the movements of a woman stepping out of a car, her keys in hand. If his hands hadn’t instinctively tightened around the box, the fine China inside would’ve been in pieces on the pavement.

Damn. She was... striking. The kind of striking that rooted a man to the spot and left his thoughts a tangled mess.

The pantsuit she wore clung to her figure in all the right ways, while soft curls framed her face like a work of art. Then she smiled, and he was done for.

She approached with a confident stride, her voice soft but laced with a teasing edge that only added to her allure. “Hey,” she said, flashing him an easy smile—the kind that could charm just about anyone. “Looks like they finally found someone to take the place. Congrats. I’m in a rush right now, but I get off work at 6. I’ll swing by to properly introduce myself—if that’s cool with you?”

Terry fumbled between a nod and a simple word of agreement, finally managing a quick, “Yeah, sounds good,” before she turned and climbed into her car.

She waved as she drove off, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

She knew she had a wicked flirt game, and today’s outfit choice was clearly the right one. As she headed to the office, an unusually good mood accompanied her. She couldn’t help but think about her new neighbour—broad shoulders, brooding eyes, and a quiet intensity that lingered even in their brief interaction.

Her curiosity burned through the day like a steady flame. Who was he? What was his story? And most importantly, would he be sticking around?

Terry tried to shake her out of his head as he tackled the last of the boxes. But it was no use. Her voice, her smile—they’d already sunk into his mind, leaving him restless and curious. 6 o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the neighbourhood, when YN pulled into her driveway, a sense of anticipation bubbling in her chest. Work had been exhausting, but the thought of properly meeting her new neighbour had been the highlight of her day. She stepped into her house, kicked off her heels, and immediately headed for the shower. The warm water was a welcome relief, washing away the day's tension and leaving her feeling refreshed.

Dressed in something comfortable yet flattering—because first impressions mattered, even if she wasn’t technically trying—YN made her way into the kitchen. Cooking was a distraction, a way to channel her nerves into something productive. She whipped up a quick but hearty meal, pairing it with some baked goods she’d had stashed away. It was a neighbourly gesture, sure, but she’d also seen him. And let’s just say that the mysterious, rugged man across the street had piqued her curiosity.

Balancing the food containers carefully in her hands, YN walked across to his house. The porch light was on, a warm glow illuminating the otherwise quiet street. She knocked twice, stepping back as she waited.

Inside, Terry had been pacing his living room for the past fifteen minutes, glancing at the clock and then the front door as if he could will someone to show up. He’d told himself it was silly, but the memory of their brief interaction that morning had stayed with him all day. She was charming, poised, and stunning, and the idea of seeing her again had stirred something in him he couldn’t quite name.

When the knock finally came, he opened the door to find her standing there, her smile lighting up the dimming evening. His expression softening into something she could only describe as relief. His eyes flicked down to the food in her hands, then back up to her face, his lips twitching as though he were fighting the urge to smile.

For a split second, neither of them spoke, just taking each other in. Then, at the same time, they both blurted out their names.

"Terrance Richmond." "YN."

The words collided, and they both paused before bursting into laughter.

"No, you go," she said, waving a hand for him to continue.

He shook his head with a small, amused smile. "No, you first. I insist."

She gave in, introducing herself again, this time with a little less fluster. “Sorry about the rush this morning. I was running late for work. I figured I’d make it up to you by bringing some dinner—just thought I’d save you the trouble of cooking or ordering in tonight.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but not ungrateful. “That’s... really kind of you. Thank you.” He stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in.

YN wasn’t sure what she’d expected—half-packed boxes or chaos, maybe—but his house was already well put together. Everything had its place, and the space looked cosy, even lived-in.

“You’ve been busy,” she remarked, glancing around.

Terry followed her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I couldn’t keep still. Needed to get everything done.”

The motion of his hand raised the hem of his shirt just enough to reveal a sliver of his abdomen, and her breath hitched involuntarily at the sight. He was... sculpted, to say the least. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but the deep heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her.

Terry noticed—of course, he noticed. His lips quirked into a subtle smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You okay over there?” he teased, his voice dipping lower.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally fine,” she stammered, mentally cursing herself. Way to keep it together, YN.

“Kitchen’s this way,” he said, leading her further inside.

In the kitchen, she set the food down on the counter while Terry rummaged through a cabinet for plates and cutlery.

“Wine or whiskey?” he asked, holding up a tumbler in one hand and a wine glass in the other.

She tilted her head, eyeing him playfully. “You strike me as the rough-around-the-edges whiskey type. But I could be wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “And you strike me as the sophisticated wine type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

She laughed softly, choosing the wine glass. “Maybe just a little bit of both,” she said, holding up her glass in a mock toast.

Dinner passed with ease, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them. She learned about his time in the Marines, his decision to move to the city, and his plans to settle into a new routine. In turn, he listened intently as she spoke about her work as a lawyer and the challenges that came with it.

“Why executive protection?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to his glass. “It seemed like the right move. I needed something to focus on, something to ground me after...I guess I wanted to keep helping people… just without all the…” He gestured vaguely, his voice trailing off.

She nodded, understanding the weight of what he wasn’t saying. “That makes sense. You’re a protector. It suits you.”

Instead, she smiled softly, changing the subject to something lighter. “Well, I think the neighbourhood gossip will be all over you in no time. New guy, good-looking, and clearly handy with a moving box? You’re prime material.”

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “And here I thought I’d be flying under the radar.”

“Not a chance,” she teased, raising her glass.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation, the initial awkwardness fading into a comfortable rhythm. By the time the food was gone and the wine bottle nearly empty, she realised how late it had gotten.

“I should let you get some rest,” she said, standing and gathering her things.

Terry walked her to the door, his presence warm and steady beside her. “Thanks for coming over. And for dinner. You didn’t have to, but... it means a lot.”

She smiled, the sincerity in his voice catching her off guard. “It’s my turn to host next time,” she said, stepping out onto the porch.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

As she walked back to her house, she felt his eyes on her, and when she reached her front door, she turned to find him still standing there, waiting. She gave him a small wave before stepping inside, and only then did he close his door.

Back in her kitchen, she leaned against the counter, her thoughts lingering on Terrance Richmond—the man who’d somehow managed to make an ordinary evening feel anything but.

It had been two months of playful banter, stolen moments, and a rhythm they’d fallen into so effortlessly it felt like second nature. Their evenings were a mix of wholesome exploration and daring escapades—her showing him the city from her unique perspective. Quiet cafés tucked into alleys, her favourite jazz bar that always felt alive no matter the hour, daring rooftop views that made her heart race as much as his lingering glances. Terry soaked it all in, learning her through the places she loved.

And then there were the nights. Nights when she’d invite him into her world, sharing wine and laughter, their knees brushing under the table, their gazes holding just a beat too long. Nights when he’d introduce her to the simplicities he cherished: an old movie, a game of cards, or just sitting on his porch with whiskey and comfortable silence. The friendship that brewed between them was comforting, but the undercurrent of something more was undeniable.

He didn’t mind bending the rules, like ignoring speed limits to race home just to catch her as she pulled into her driveway. There was something magnetic about the sight of her at the end of a long day. The way she’d stride out of her car, hair loosened from its bun, buttons of her blouse slightly undone, her lips still stained with that red lipstick that drove him wild. It was like she carried the day’s fire with her, igniting something in him without even trying. He’d lean against his porch, offering her a nightcap with that low, smooth voice of his, and she’d grin, the tension of her day easing away.

She had never been more grateful that Terry’s job required him to wear a suit. Seeing him waiting for her in all his tall, broad-shouldered glory, tie loosened, dark stormy eyes carrying a story from the day, was a sight she never grew tired of. Her eyes would linger, tracing the outline of his strong frame and sharp jawline. Even the way he held himself—calm, composed—was intoxicating. Their usual routine of “Hey, stranger. Fancy seeing you here,” never got old, but there was something different about today.

She parked her car with noticeably less energy, the weight of her day evident in the slight slump of her shoulders. Terry caught it immediately. He leaned against his porch, the usual playful smirk tugging at his lips, but it faded when she approached.

“Hey, stranger,” he said softly, his voice warm but cautious.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she replied, but her tone lacked its usual spark. Her eyes flickered to his, and though her lips curved into a faint smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, taking a step closer.

She exhaled, shaking her head lightly. “Rough day. I don’t think I’m up for anything tonight.”

He nodded, though disappointment briefly flickered across his features. “I get it. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Terry,” she said, her voice soft as she turned toward her door.

He watched her retreat into her house, resisting the urge to follow. Respecting her space was the right thing to do, but it didn’t stop the lingering ache in his chest. Something felt off, and it wasn’t just her mood—it was the absence of her presence.

Back in his house, Terry tried to distract himself. He pushed through an intense workout in his home gym, the rhythm of his heart pounding in his ears as he lifted, punched, and ran his frustration away. But no amount of sweat could shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Showered and changed into a snug grey T-shirt and sweatpants, he found himself pacing his living room. The hours stretched, and the silence grew unbearable. It was stupid—he felt like barely knew her but they had spent so much time together that being apart for the one night felt wrong, and the thought of her being upset made him restless. Finally, he grabbed a bottle of wine and decided to check on her. If nothing else, she deserved someone to talk to.

Terry knocked twice, the bottle balanced in his hand. The sound of footsteps reached him, and when the door swung open, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

She stood there, framed by the warm glow of her house, wrapped in a silk negligee the colour of deep mauve. The fabric flowed from her shoulders, clinging to her curves in a way that made his breath hitch. It accentuated the fullness of her breasts, the gentle dip of her waist, and the teasing slit that revealed her smooth, toned thigh. Her dark skin shimmered against the luxurious fabric, and her loose hair framed her face like a crown.

He stared, momentarily dumbfounded. “I, uh...” His usual composure failed him.

Her lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through the tiredness in her eyes. “Terry,” she said softly, “are you okay?”

He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to meet hers. “I just... I wanted to check on you. You seemed off earlier.”

Her expression softened, her fingers brushing against the doorframe. “I’m okay. Just needed some time to breathe.”

He held up the bottle. “I figured you might still need that nightcap. But if this is a bad time—”

She stepped aside, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not.”

He walked in, acutely aware of how close their bodies brushed as he passed her. The faint scent of her perfume—warm, sensual, with a hint of spice—wrapped around him, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

As she closed the door, she turned to face him, her head tilted slightly. “Thanks for checking on me. Most people wouldn’t bother.”

He set the bottle on the counter, turning to face her with a small shrug. “I’m not most people.”

Her smile widened, the tension of her day beginning to unravel. “No, you’re not.”

And there it was again—that spark, that unspoken pull between them. The air felt heavier, charged with something they both knew they couldn’t ignore much longer.

The room was cloaked in a heady tension that neither of them could escape. She leaned against the counter, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against the cool marble surface as she watched him pour the wine. His tall, commanding frame moved with an easy grace that was almost hypnotic, the tight grey T-shirt clinging to his broad chest and shoulders, highlighting every muscle. His stormy blue-grey eyes caught the light for a fleeting second as he glanced up, and they seemed to darken when they met hers.

"Rough day, huh?" His voice was deep, smooth, and rich, yet there was an edge to it, like he was holding something back.

"Yeah," she murmured, her gaze lingering on the way his big hands gripped the bottle. Those hands. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but her mind betrayed her, wandering to how they might feel against her skin, firm yet gentle, exploring every inch of her.

"You don’t talk about work much," he said, leaning casually against the opposite counter, though there was nothing casual about the way his eyes roamed her figure. His gaze lingered on the curve of her waist, the silk of her negligee clinging to her full breasts and cascading down to her thick thighs. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but his focus never wavered.

"Work’s work," she replied, her voice quieter than she intended. The usual playfulness in her tone was replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she wasn’t sure if it was from his smouldering gaze or the thoughts racing through her mind.

"That’s fair," he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk, though his voice had dropped an octave. He took a sip of his wine, his sharp jaw flexing slightly as he tilted his head back. She could barely breathe.

The air between them felt thick, electric. Every glance, every subtle movement was charged with an intensity that neither of them could ignore. She wanted to say something, anything, but her eyes kept drifting to his lips, full and smooth, and how easily they curved into that devastatingly charming smile. She wondered what they’d feel like against hers, how they’d taste.

"You seem... distracted," he teased, his voice low and husky.

She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Says the man who hasn’t stopped staring."

"You’re hard not to stare at," he admitted, his tone serious now.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand. "You’re not so bad yourself," she said, her voice steady despite the wild thrum in her chest.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was suffocating in the best way. The kind of silence that demanded action, that begged for release.

And then it happened.

He set his glass down with a soft clink and took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. "You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough, raw with restraint. "Seeing you every morning, looking so damn fine, so put together... And then at night, when you come to mine, when you let your guard down and laugh like the world hasn’t put you through hell that day... I’m here, losing my mind over you, woman."

Her breath hitched, her wide eyes searching his stormy gaze. His words were like gasoline to the fire already burning inside her. "Terry..." she started, but the words caught in her throat.

"No," he cut her off gently, his big hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushing along her jaw. "Let me say this. From the first day I saw you, I knew you were gonna ruin me. And you have. I can’t think straight when you’re around, and when you’re not..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her lips.

She felt her chest tighten, her own thoughts spinning out of control. "I’ve liked you since day one," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

His lips quirked into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. "Yeah?"

She nodded, her cheeks warm. "Yeah."

That was all he needed to hear.

His lips crashed against hers, and everything else melted away. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer until her soft curves were pressed firmly against his muscular frame. She moaned softly into the kiss, her hands exploring the expanse of his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Terry," she gasped as his lips trailed to her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

"You’re perfect," he murmured against her skin, his hands roaming over her thick thighs, her generous hips, memorising every part of her. "So damn perfect."

Her fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, his lips returning to hers with a fervour that left her breathless. The silk of her negligee rode up, baring more of her dark, supple skin to his touch.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he rasped, his stormy eyes locking with hers as his hand slid up her thigh.

"Show me," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire.

And he did. The tension that had been building for months finally erupted, their movements urgent yet unhurried, savouring every touch, every kiss, every moment. It was the turning page they’d both been waiting for, the start of something they both knew would change everything.

The moment between them burned hotter as they moved upstairs, their lips locked in a fiery kiss that only deepened with each step. Breathless moans filled the spaces where their mouths parted, the sound mingling with the faint creak of the stairs. Terry’s strong arms tightened around her, lifting her effortlessly. Her thighs instinctively clasped around his waist, holding on to him as if her life depended on it. Her fingers found their way under his t-shirt, her fingertips brushing against the hard ridges of his back muscles, revelling in the sheer strength he carried so easily.

His grip on her waist was firm, his large hands branding her as his own, sending a thrilling pulse through her body that promised to linger long after tonight. His touch roamed with purpose, tracing the swell of her thighs and the curve of her hips. When his palm landed on her ass with a sharp slap, followed by a teasing squeeze, she gasped into his mouth, her body arching into him. Terry let out a deep, gravelly chuckle, the sound dripping with satisfaction, as if her every reaction was fuel to the fire raging within him.

With his lips trailing down her jaw, then returning to claim her mouth, he blindly led them toward her bedroom. His back pressed against the door as he maneuvered it open, never breaking their heated connection. Once inside, Terry seated himself at the edge of her bed, pulling her closer onto his lap. She straddled him, her negligee riding higher, teasing them both. Her nails running over his short, dark hair, dragging them just enough to make him groan deeply, the sound vibrating between them. His large hands explored her curves freely now, roaming the softness of her body like a man starved.

As their lips crashed together again, Terry’s control snapped. With an effortless move, he flipped her onto her back, his strength leaving her breathless. The sudden shift made her gasp, her hair splaying out across the sheets as she looked up at him. His body hovered above hers, broad and muscular, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at her. The look on his face—raw, unfiltered desire—sent a thrill through her core. His eyes darkened with lust, his brows knit together in a mixture of longing and determination.

“Terry...” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of the moment, her body humming with anticipation.

He lowered himself, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her collarbone before moving to her ear. His voice, deep and husky, made her shiver. “You don’t know what you do to me, YN,” he repeated. “Not being able to touch you like this.”

Her breath hitched, his confession sending waves of heat coursing through her body. Her hands gripped his biceps, feeling the tension coiled in him, the restraint he had fought for so long finally slipping. "Terry," she whispered again, her voice soft yet laced with her own need.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he rasped, his gaze trailing over her. “Every damn curve... your thighs, your hips... these gorgeous lips I can’t stop thinking about. You’re driving me insane, YN.”

She grew needier, her dark skin glowing under the low light of the room. Her hands roamed across his back, her nails lightly grazing his skin as she pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word sent sparks flying between them, a tangible current neither could resist.

“Show what you’ve been wanting to do to me”, she breathlessly said.

That was all the permission Terry needed, he lowered his body down hers stopping at her thighs and slowly pusher lingerie up body signalling for her to raise arms so he could undress her. Eyes taking in every detail and she almost shied under his lustful gaze, but he quietened thoughts as he dipped his head down and his mouth parted to envelope the nipple that called for his attention. He bit, licked, sucked and swirled, teasing that bud and showing the other one the same love – “this is what you were hiding me, angel?” His voice, so many decibels lower she almost didn’t recognise it.

“Out of words already, baby? Don’t worry, I’ve got something that’ll bring that voice back”

YN watched as his hands travelled and worked down her body, lighting a trail of fire in their wake. They moved with such expertise, like he had time to study what made her wet – either that or she was just entirely ready for him. Her panties did nothing to disguise her puffy lips or the slickness that dampened the front, she would’ve been embarrassed if she wasn’t so turned on but this was a long time coming.

Terry's lips worked their way down her body, slow and purposeful, leaving a searing trail of anticipation in their wake. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he spread her legs wider, his firm grip sending shivers through her. His stormy eyes flicked up to meet hers, a silent yet urgent question. She responded by gripping the back of his head, guiding him exactly where she needed him most.

He hungrily obeyed, his tongue moving with an aggressive precision that mirrored her unspoken desire. Every stroke was deliberate, every flick of his tongue a testament to his singular focus on her pleasure. His large hands slid up her thighs, his grip firm and grounding as her body trembled beneath him.

Her nails grazed the smooth skin at the back of his head, her soft cries urging him on, and he fed on every sound she made like it was a reward. The way she arched into him, her breathless gasps and whispered curses, only drove him further. He was relentless, addicted to the way she tasted, the way her body writhed under his control.

“Terry…” she moaned, her voice breaking as he increased the pressure, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm. He felt her thighs quake against his shoulders, her body teetering on the edge.

“Come on, YN,” he murmured against her, the vibration of his voice sending her spiraling. “I want to feel it. Let go for me.”

With a cry that echoed through the room, she shattered, her release coursing through her like a wave. Terry didn’t stop, prolonging her pleasure, tasting every part of her as though he couldn’t get enough. And as he finally pulled back, his lips glistening, he looked up at her with a dark, satisfied smirk.

Terry’s gaze was locked on her, dark and burning with intensity. She was already bare before him, her body glowing in the low light, every curve and line drawing him in like a man possessed. He knelt on the bed, his knees framing hers, and his hand traced the side of her thigh, firm and deliberate.

“I don’t know how I kept control this whole time,” he muttered, his voice laced with restrained desire. Grabbing her wrist, he guided her hand to the thick length straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched as her fingers instinctively wrapped around him. His jaw clenched at the contact, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“I’m ready to put this where it belongs,” he growled, his voice rough, primal. He stood, his movements deliberate as he tugged off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion. When he stood before her, completely bare, her mouth went dry, her pulse racing. His body was a perfect balance of strength and masculinity—toned, powerful, and overwhelming in every sense of the word.

She couldn’t stop the breathless moan of his name. “Terry…” she whimpered, her voice a mix of pleading and desperation.

She reached for him, her nails grazing over the hard ridges of his abs, earning a sharp hiss as he captured her wrist again. His other hand gripped her hip, pulling her toward him as he rolled his body against hers, letting her feel every inch of his arousal pressing into her. She gasped, the friction igniting something primal in her.

“Are you ready to take all of me?” his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Before she could respond, he flipped her onto her stomach with ease, his hands tugging her hips back toward him. A surprised gasp escaped her, quickly replaced by a low moan as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, his teeth grazing her skin. One hand pressed into the small of her back, pinning her in place, while the other slid up her thigh, rough and demanding.

She lifted her head slightly, her eyes catching the mirror across the room. The sight of their bodies intertwining—the dominance in his stance, the way her body responded to his every touch—made her breath hitch. Her body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the heat and tension building between them.

But just as his fingers trailed higher, grazing her most sensitive spot, he stilled. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and his tone softened, though the intensity remained.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “I need to hear it, YN.”

Her body writhed beneath him, every nerve alight with need. “I want this… and you. I need it, T. Please,” she pleaded, her voice desperate, her core weeping and throbbing for him.

That was all he needed. In one smooth, deliberate motion, he thrust into her, filling her completely. She cried out, her fingers clutching the sheets as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. He didn’t give her a moment to recover, his movements relentless and precise, each thrust stealing the breath from her lungs.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “Taking me so perfectly. You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Her head lolled to the side, her cries and moans echoing in the room. She could barely form a coherent response, her mind clouded with nothing but him. Instead, she let her body speak for her, meeting his movements with equal fervour, the sound of their bodies colliding only heightening the intensity.

As her body tightened around him, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, he slowed. His hand slid around to cup her face, turning her head so he could kiss her. It wasn’t rough like before—it was slow, deep, and tender, a kiss that felt like a promise. Her body trembled, her moan muffled against his lips as her release overtook her, crashing over her in waves.

He followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as he buried himself deeper, his grip on her waist tightening. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of their laboured breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets.

Finally, he collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. His lips pressed against her forehead, the tenderness in the gesture a stark contrast to the passion they’d just shared.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face.

She nodded, her cheek pressed against his chest as her breathing slowly steadied. “More than okay,” she murmured, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Good,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The promise lingered in the air, and she couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree as she nestled closer to him, feeling completely and utterly content.

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

and take a shot for every time i mentioned 'stormy' or 'eyes' loooool

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x black!reader #aaron pierre x black!oc #rebel ridge #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x black! reader #terry richmond x black!oc #aaron pierre smut #aaron pierre fanfic #terry richmond smut #terry richmond fic #ruewrites

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ripeandsoft · 2 months ago

Note

Hi Monae how are you babes? Can I request for terry and his wife having sex for the first time since their baby was born and she was trying to cover up her post baby body after having her baby.

🥺

A/n: I’m good baby! I’m so sorry this took so long, me and my brain weren’t friends lol. Please accept this as an early Christmas gift and apology! I hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated 💕

Content warnings: mentions of postpartum insecurity, gentle sex?, oral, a spank or two (i couldn’t help it), mirror sex, fluffy sweetness all around, also barely proofread oops

—

“Diapers, bottles, bibs, pacifiers…” You paced around the nursery as you packed your daughter Josie’s diaper bag. She was laying in her crib, fresh from the bath and drifting off to sleep under the musical chime of her mobile. Terry was quiet as he ambled up the stairs with extra clean bottles and formula. The shadow of you flitting around her room like a mad woman on the hallway wall made Terry laugh. This was Josie’s first time being away from you guys for two whole nights and your nerves were through the roof.

“Calm down baby, you know my mama will take good care of her” Terry sat the bottles and formula on the dresser next to her bag, coming up behind you to rub his hands soothingly down your arms. You leaned back into him and you closed your eyes to take a deep breath. You couldn’t help but be anxious. This was the longest you’d be away from your baby since she was born. You knew Mrs. Richmond wouldn’t let a curl on Josie’s head be touched but your nerves were still crackling with anxiety.

“I know, ‘m just nervous” Your words were hushed as you turned to loop your arms around his waist. “I’m glad we’ll have some alone time. Maybe even get some good sleep, give the baby monitor a rest for the weekend” Terry rocked the both of you back and forth in his embrace. You hummed against him, the warmth of his body against yours making your eyes close in comfort.

Soft gurgles spilled from Josie’s mouth as she shifted positions in her crib, her noises causing you and Terry to separate. “I’ll finish packing up here. You go start the car.” You ordered Terry gently with point of your finger. He nodded dutifully, giving both you and Josie a soft kiss on the cheek.

—

“I’ll miss you babygirl” You cooed at Josie, rubbing her chubby cheek with your thumb. She nuzzled against the contact while she smiled with all her gums. “Y’all better get out of here so I can spend time with my baby” Mrs. Richmond started to usher you and Terry out the door, eager to spend time with her granddaughter. “Can’t we say bye?” Terry asked.

“No you can’t. Now get before them roads get bad.” Mrs. Richmond nodded to the window, swirls of flurries falling outside.

—

It felt weird to be in your bathroom alone. When Josie is fussy but you need to shower you bring her with you, letting her rest in her bouncer while you clean up. Terry often joins you when you’re doing your hair or taking off your makeup. You were never really alone these days, not since Josie was born. Even when she’s not with you physically her presence crackles through the baby monitor seemingly attached to your hand. You’d heard of women who become so consumed with their families that they lose themselves, but that isn’t happening to you.

Right?

All you could think about was a hot shower. Your clothes were strewn across the floor, a fabric trail leading to you standing at the sink. You pulled your braids up into a ponytail before wrapping it up in a fat bun. The counter was cold as you bent down to rest your elbows on it, filling your palms with water so you could wash your face. Before you could reach for the cleanser, your husband slid his hands around your hips.

“Can I help you sir?” You asked him through the mirror, water dripping down your neck to your chest. “Mhm, you sure can” Terry’s voice rumbling low in your ears. His strong hands rubbed over all your soft parts—stomach, hips, thighs, tits, ass. You sighed at the feeling, leaning back into him. But before you can get lost in your man, the quiet part of your mind speaks up.

You’ve never been a stranger to stretch marks, cellulite, dimples, pimples, or moles. All these things came with your figure and you had come to love them. Growing your babygirl gave you immense pride in your body and you wouldn’t trade your pregnancy experience for the world. Being a mother was wonderful journey but every journey has its ups and downs, and these postpartum stages were mostly down. The things you once loved about your body have become insecurities.

“I need to take a shower” You pressed yourself into the sink to create space between you two. “Can I join you?” Terry asks. You avoid his hand reaching for you, side stepping him and going to stand by the shower. “No, thank you baby but I got this one by myself” Your lips quirk up in an awkward smile, your hands shielding your breast and stomach from his watching eyes.

Terry frowned, the crease in the middle of his brows growing deeper as he examined your behavior. You never shy away from his touch whether it’s sexual or not. You’ve been somewhat avoidant recently. Not necessarily detached or distant but just…not the same. It was strange.

“Go lay down” Terry instructs, nodding towards the bedroom. Your mouth opened to retort but the look in Terry’s eyes made the words seep into your tongue. You obeyed wordlessly, feelings his eyes follow your every movement.

—

“Don’t look away” Terry spoke against you, mouth full of your wet pussy. His head could be seen from between your cheeks, the mirror that normally leaned on your bedroom wall now closer to the bed propped on its thin stand. Your eyes watered in pleasure as his tongue swirled around your clenching hole. The silver band of your wedding ring dug into your skin as you held onto the sheets tight.

His lips were soft against you, vibrating with his own moans as he feasted on you. “Terry baby ‘m gonna mmm fuck come” You started to grind against his face, beard tickling your mound. “I know” His words were muffled as he pulled your hips back against his face. The room around you blurred into nothing as your eyes rolled back, orgasm rolling through you with fury.

The sheets were soft on your hard nipples, the added stimulation making you cry out. You pulled yourself away from him weakly only to be pulled back. “Where you going?” He questioned. The spank Terry placed on your right ass cheek had you jolting away from him, which made him wrap his hand around the back of your neck. “Tell me where you going girl” Terry’s voice echoed in your head as you tried to focus. “Nowhere, I promise” You head shook back and forth wildly, braids falling from your bun.

Terry rubbed soothing circle on your now red ass cheek, giving you a moment to calm down. You started to bounce back on Terry’s bulge, your stickiness making his hard dick shine in the light of your bedroom. “Oh you want it now?” He teased. His hand came to hold your hips steady as he started to do the work for you. His swollen tip nudged against your clit just right, bubbles of precum decorating your flesh. You reached back to grab his dick, tired of being empty.

You fell into an arch as he found his home in your pussy. Your walls pulsated around him as if to say “welcome home.”

“Tight ass fucking pussy” He grunted from behind you, his balls resting against your clit as he bottomed out. He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt his balls start to throb. He fed you slow, deep thrusts, the slap of his thighs on yours filling the room. Goosebumps rushed over your skin with movement.

He hit all your spots with expert precision, catching your hand when you reached back to press it on his stomach. “No ma’am, this what you wanted. Be still and let me work my pussy open” He spoke, head thrown back and eyes closed. Your mind went numb with pleasure. The fat of your thighs started to jiggle as you shook, mouth open in silent moans. Each thrust stole the breath from your lungs.

“Let me tell you something” Terry wrapped a hand in your now messy hair, pulling to get you to look at him through the mirror. “Don’t you ever hide this body from me. This body carried my baby and I’ll be damned if you shamed of it” He punctuated his words with sharper thrusts making you squeal. “Tell me you’re beautiful” He demanded.

“I’m, ugh, I’m beautiful” Your words were quick, drool building up in your mouth and dribbling from the side of it. “Again, make me believe it” He responded. “I’m beautiful Terry, so beautiful” You felt yourself about to come again, walls squeezing him even tighter.

“Yes you are” Terry agreed, his own orgasm building. The sensation of you creaming around him triggered Terry’s orgasm. He continued to thrust as he spilled into you, the mixture of you two dripping onto the sheets. You fell limp onto the bed, shaking and whining at the overwhelming feeling. Terry pulled out slowly to watch his cum flow from your hole.

A warm rag was the next thing you felt on your pussy, the heat making you sigh in relief. “Don’t worry baby, I got you” Terry spoke softly, planting a kiss on your cheek.

—

tags: @kenshisluvrgirl @megamindsecretlair

#terry richmond #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x reader #x black fem reader #x black plus size reader #x black reader #aaron pierre

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writingsbytee · 2 months ago

Text

HIDDEN

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: NSFW; minors do not interact; mentions of domestic violence; self hate; angst; Terry is hard to read in the beginning.

SUMMARY: You’re running away from an abusive ex when you meet Terry working in one of his clubs.

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn;

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I took this idea and kind of ran with it. Let me know if you guys like it! I want this to be a series but only if you guys like it. I’m going to try switching POV’s; let me know if you guys like it or if it’s hard to follow.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper out. That fucking asshole shredded my passport. My expired ID will have to do for now. I’m running around the house trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake the sleeping monster who’s my soon to be ex. My phone vibrates in my back pocket,

LEXI: Parked a block down, lights off.

ME: Give me 3 minutes.

I liked the message and continued to pack, I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I’d been with Rafa (ex boyfriend) for about a year before the motherfucker put his hands on me. I believed him when he said it was an accident. I looked at his tear stained face and heard the crack in his voice and thought ‘he loves me he won’t hurt me again’. Here I am two weeks later with a black eye, split lip, and I’m pretty sure some broken ribs

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I peek behind me making sure Rafa is still asleep. When I saw that he was, I let out a breath I was holding. I may or may not have slipped some crushed sleeping pills into Rafa’s evening whiskey, ensuring I wouldn’t be interrupted fleeing from his ass. Reaching under the bed, I grab my suitcase that’s pre-packed with everything I need (besides my passport) and head towards the door.

Before my hand reaches the door handle, I look behind me at Rafa. His features relaxed in this state he doesn’t look nearly as menacing as he did two hours ago when he was beating the brakes off me. Freedom was right in front of me yet, here I was close to tears dying to crawl back in bed with him. I shook my head and took a deep breath. Turning away from Rafa, my trembling hand reached forward to grab the door.

“Just do it Daphne,” I whisper to myself. With another breath I pulled the door open to what used to be our bedroom and walked out. I’m doing this for me, saving my life. As dramatic as it sounds I have to get out of this relationship before it kills me.

“Girl, it’s about time you got in this car! I thought I was going to have to come in that bitch swinging,” my half-sister Lexi said. I threw my bags in the backseat before getting in the passenger side and buckling up. (Lexi's cast pic)

“I got stage fright all of sudden. I didn’t think I’d be able to go through with it, actually leaving him. I uprooted my whole life to be with him and here I am back where I started.” I said on the verge of tears.

Lexi took a deep breath before turning to me, “ Look Daph, I know what it’s like to be so in love with the potential of a man you’re blinded by who he really is. Rafa didn’t give a fuck about you, he proved that when he put his hands on you. Look in the mirror Daph! I love you sis, and I’m going to support you no matter what, but believe me when I say this. You took your life back today.” My eyes blur with tears as I reach across the center console to pull my sister into a hug.

“Oh stop it before I start crying,” Lexi lets out a watery laugh before letting me go. We release our embrace and Lexi starts her SUV up, and we drive away. I don’t glance back, ready to leave this life behind me.

2 Hours Later…

“Welcome to your new home!” Lexi sings as we pull up to her apartment complex. I chuckle as we grab my things and head up to her place.

“The second bedroom has a bathroom right across the hall. I cleaned both of them out so you can make room for all your things. I got you a key fob from the front desk and I already added your name on the lease, but don’t worry about the rent,” Lexi says as she shows me around her spacious luxury apartment.

I spin, crushing my sister in a bear hug, “I can’t thank you enough for this Lex, I’ll start looking for a job first thing tomorrow. I have enough money saved up to get me through the next few months, so I can help with rent if you need me to.”

Lexi playfully rolls her eyes, “Daphne I love you but please shut up. You’d do this for me in a heartbeat. You’ve always taken care of me, now let me return the favor. Plus I already found you a job.” Lexi and I found each out about each other in middle school and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

I let out a deep sigh before nodding, “I love you too Lex. Now where’s this so-called job?” I ask, raising a brow.

Lexi makes her way towards my room, motioning for me to follow her, “You’ll work at the club with me. One of the servers got fired and we’re really short. I put in a good word with my boss Terry, he just wants to meet you first.”

Lexi works at a high end gentlemen's club named ‘Fuse’. When she told me about it I was a bit apprehensive but, beggars can’t be choosers. I figured I can work there, save up for my own place and then go from there.

“Lexi, how am I supposed to meet your boss looking like this? I’ll scare his ass off,” I say motioning to my face.

“Don’t you think I thought about that? He’s coming here, think of it as an impromptu interview. He’s discreet and won’t ask questions. Sis if you don’t want to do this…,” Lexi trails off.

I shake my head, “No, No, it’s fine I’m sorry. What time should I be ready?”

Lexi squeals before jumping into my arms, “I know you’re nervous but Terry’s assured me that we’re working the exact same schedule until you get your footing. If you decide at any time that the club isn’t for you, you can leave.”

I hug my sister back, enduring the sharp pain that comes from my rib cage. the weight of today is finally taking its toll on me, “I think I’m going to freshen up and lay down,” I say, detaching myself from our embrace. Lexi nods before showing me where the towels and things are, and then she leaves me to it. Taking a deep breath I cut the bathroom light on and looked in the mirror.

I gasp out a sob as I take in my features. My bright brown eyes look dull and lifeless, well the one that opens anyway. My lip looks worse than what it is. There’s a slight bruise on my right cheek. The worst is yet to come when I lift my shirt taking a look at my torso.

“Oh my god,” I sob. I’m a nurse by trade so bruises, cuts, and blood don’t really affect me. But, seeing them on me is doing something crazy to my mind. I deal with cases like this all the time, vowing I’ll never be that woman. And here I am, that woman. I get in the shower on auto pilot. Not enjoying the art of getting clean like I usually do but just trying to get everything done. Once clean I moisturize and make my way into my new room. I don’t know how long I lay there and wait for sleep to take me.

My alarm startles me awake, I groan and roll over reaching for my phone. Pressing the silence button, I begin to rub my eyes. I groan and roll into a sitting position, my face feeling even more sore than it did yesterday. Making my way to the bathroom, I flip the lights and turn the shower on. My mind reels as it tries to process the last 24 hours.

Rafa hasn’t tried to contact me, not that he could. I blocked him on everything but, still the silence is alarming. I never told him where Lexi lives, so there’s no way he could know that I’m here. Pushing all thoughts of Rafa out of my mind for now, I start getting ready for my day. After doing my extensive body and skincare routine I threw on a hoodie and leggings. I decided not to cover up my bruises for the moment. Now that it’s the next day everything just looks ugly and swollen anyway.

After finishing my morning routine I head out to the living room to find Lexi. I can hear her talking quietly to someone, I assume she’s just on the phone. When I round the corner at the end of the hallway I stop in my tracks. There’s a literal adonis manspreading on our sofa. Well over six feet this man is sitting on our sofa looking almost too big for it. God he was fine, I’m in no space to get involved right now but I can appreciate a fine ass man. Hearing my entrance, his eyes shot towards me stopping in my tracks.

“Oh! Daphne you’re awake! Perfect,” Lexi said from somewhere in the kitchen. Seconds go by and I see her appear with a tray with three cups of coffee on it.

“This is Terry, remember I told you about him yesterday?” Lexi says with a nervous smile on her face. I nod looking back and forth between the two. My gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on Terry. He’s looking up at me with a curious frown on his face like he’s trying to figure me out, and I’m doing the same thing.

I push my shoulders back and walk towards him outstretching my hand, “Hi Terry, I’m Daphne sorry, if I’d known you were here I would have made myself look a little more presentable.”

Terry’s shaking his head before I can finish my sentence, “It’s all good, I was in the area and figured I’d just pop by and meet my new bartender.

My eyes widen, “Just like that? I’ve got the job? What’s the catch?”

Terry chuckles before crossing one leg over the other, “Lexi’s right, nothing gets past you. She told me you used to be a flight nurse, so I was hoping you could help me out from time to time.”

My brow furrows, “I’m not going to have to do anything illegal am I?”

Terry takes a deep breath leaning back, his gorgeous eyes assessing me, “We’ll keep that need to know. I won’t knowingly compromise your position or have you do anything that will put your license in jeopardy.”

I go over the details in my head. Could I really do something like this? It was clear to me that Terry was some sort of crime boss. He’s sitting so comfortably in our home like he owns the place (I wouldn’t be surprised if he did). He’s got money but doesn’t want to show it, based on the Rolex and Prada shoes he’s sporting.

“What if I say no?” I say, crossing my arms.

Terry chuckles and leans forward, “Then I guess you’ll need to go job hunting sweetheart.”

I roll my eyes and look over to Lexi, she mouths ‘say yes’. I contemplate in my mind, I’ve always played it safe until now. I went to nursing school because my mom wanted me to have a “stable income”. I went out with Rafa because he was a “safe” choice yeah, that worked out real nice. I’ve always gone with the safest option, not wanting to disappoint anyone. With recent events plaguing my brain I nod my head.

“Sure, what the hell. I’ll do what I can within reason,” I say to Terry.

Terry nods before standing, “Great, I’ll see you both next week, and Daphne all my bartenders wear black. Cover up the bruises but keep the makeup to a minimum.” I nod mindlessly at the things he said. Standing at his full stature, Terry is muscular, a few tattoos here and there and a face to die for. I was getting starstruck by my damn boss, which cannot happen. He exudes power, commanding each room he walks into, his height and size have nothing to do with it. It’s his aura he just gives off the vibe that he doesn’t take any shit.

Terry nods to both of us, “Ladies,” he said, and then he was out the door.

I sigh deeply and lean against the doorway, “Jeez Lexi you didn’t tell me your boss was finer than baby hair.”

Lexi laughs heartily, “Girl, it wouldn’t have mattered. Terry’s like a forcefield, he lets no one in.” I chuckle lightly and roll my eyes, making my way towards the sofa. I plop down and grab the coffee Lexi made.

“So tell me about the club. What should I expect?” I ask while sipping my coffee.

Lexi settles in next to me, cutting on the TV, “It’s a high end strip club / gentlemen's lounge, so we have lots of politicians, upper level business men, basically anyone who can afford the fifteen hundred dollar membership fee. You and I will work the bar, as long as you show a little cleavage and laugh at their shitty jokes they’ll tip you well and leave you alone for the most part. You don’t have to worry about guys getting handsy, Terry used to be a Marine, so a few of his buddies from back in the day are working security.”

I nod following along, “Does Terry usually show up a lot?” I ask.

“Well, it is his club. So yeah he’s there most of the time in his office. He usually only comes out if there’s a problem,” Lexi said.

“Hmm,” I reply with a nod. This was definitely going to be an interesting experience.

A WEEK LATER

“Daph! Come on! We’re going to be late!” Lexi yells upstairs. I sighed looking over at myself in the mirror, a simple black activewear jacket and leggings (link). My eye is almost healed, nothing a little concealer can't fix. I’m still favoring my right side because my ribs are still pretty sore. I spray myself with my sparkling lychee perfume, grab my tote and head downstairs to meet my bratty ass sister.

“Keep your panties on Lex I’m coming!” I shout as I look for my asics. Once I finally find them I meet Lexi at the door plastering on a fake smile.

“I’m sorry. Are you ready to go now?”,I ask with fake enthusiasm. Lexi just rolls her eyes and opens the door to lead us out. We head to her SUV and make our way to Terry’s club.

“Okay, so what should I expect?” I ask Lexi.

“Well it’s a Thursday night so it won’t be too busy but it’s a good thing you wore those shoes. We’ll be paired together so I’ll make drinks and you’ll take them out. Table one starts to the right of the door, and then they’re numbered clockwise,” Lexi said, adjusting the heat settings in the car.

“I mean it sounds easy enough. I just haven’t worked in a club since nursing school. I might be a little rusty,” I say, getting self conscious. Lexi reassures me as we begin heading towards downtown.

TERRY

This can’t be the sister Lexi was talking about, this is going to be a problem. She’s beautiful, fucking astonishing. I can’t even see the bruises, probably makeup which she doesn’t need. She exudes a softness that has no business being involved with me and my business. I sweep my eyes over her before landing on hers. Lexi told me her piece of dickhead boyfriend beat the shit out of her. She doesn’t look bad, but her limp tells me otherwise. A part of me wants to find the sorry motherfucker and break his knees, but I’m acting too irrational over a woman I just met.

I’ve been watching Lexi show her the ropes from my loft office. She seems to know what she’s doing catching on pretty quickly. I adjust myself for the second time as she bends down to pick up something.

“Ass fat as fuck,” I mumble watching it sway in her leggings. She drops off a tray of drinks at the police commissioner’s table and I watch as every set of eyes drop to her ass as she turns and walks away. She might be a problem

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Ok I didn’t want to get too deep in this in case y’all don’t like it. So please please like and comment if you want more. I’m so grateful for you guys I hope you all have a happy holiday season! Stay safe bookies <3

Until next time,

TEE <3

TAGLIST

@blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @dxddykenn @kianaleani @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrishh @greatpandagladiator @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @megamindsecretlair @theereina @earthchica @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @pocketsizedpanther @kumkaniudaku @mymindisneverhere

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

#rebel ridge fanfiction #terry richmond #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x black reader

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venusincleo · 16 days ago

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.

⁰¹. ʳᵒᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ.

Warnings: MDNI • Explicit • Giselle Knowles x Terry Richmond, fluff, angst.

Summary: In which Giselle Knowles is the graceful yet saditty and highly successful hairstylist known as GiGi, and Terrance Richmond or TJ, is the reliable and sought after town mechanic. Their five year old friendship is filled with a long lasting crush that TJ is too invested in to abandon, and an attraction that makes it hard for Gi to stick to her guns about not wanting anything romantic with him. But, one day, when she needs someone to confide in, TJ gets a chance to show her that age ain’t nothing but a number.

Word Count: 2.6k❣

A/N: I have no business starting anything else knowing what my drafts look like but... here we are 🥲 I couldn't resist. I hope you enjoy! 🫶🏾

p.s. this is part one of this miniseries so... stay tuned! ♡

• • •

𝑨𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏, the young man worked tirelessly to make good on his promise. Hands covered in oil rubbed against the cloth he had hanging from his waistband, and then, he shut the hood of the Range Rover Velar that belonged to his last customer of the day. Upon hearing the metal door click in place, the young woman ended her phone call, and turned to view her car.

Her Louboutin heels clicked along the concrete flooring of the garage, and as she approached the gentleman, his eyes couldn’t help but attach to her frame.

“Thank you for this TJ, really.” Her deep, buttery southern rasp eased from her lips effortlessly as she reached her hand out to touch his arm in thanks. He gives her a boyish grin, his aquamarine eyes gazing into her dark hazel ones.

“Don’t mention it. I told you, any time.” She returns a smile of her own, her pretty almond shaped eyes lighting up at the man who wouldn’t dare to not keep his word. Especially with her.

“And you don’t have to keep calling me TJ. Terry is fine.” He advises her. With a playful roll of her eyes, she creates just another inch of distance between them as she can sense where he’s trying to steer the conversation.

“Boy, please. Yo mama named you TJ, so I’m gon’ call you TJ.” The large young man only shakes his head, cleaning the few tools he previously used on his rag and setting them back in his tool box.

“Okay, GiGi.” Though he mumbles, the bass in his voice makes it so that even a whisper has projection, and the beautiful woman drops her jaw playfully.

“Wow.” She exclaims, shaking her head dramatically. Terry only scoffs at how she takes her own medicine, and then, the room falls quiet for a moment. Once he has all of his things organized back in their rightful place, he turns the lights off and starts to lock up, signaling to his counterpart that it was time to go.

“Oh, um…how much do I owe you?” She asks genuinely.

With all intentions of ignoring the question he thought she’d known better than to ask by now, Terry fastens the rest of the buttons on his work shirt, and quickly throws on his jacket. As he pats his pockets for his keys he realizes he’s good to close, yet he sees his friend still standing beside her truck.

“You’re all good, Gi. C’mon so I can close up.” He tries to be definitive about it, but when he sees the woman still as can be beside her car door, he releases a soft breath.

“No, you come on. I feel bad for holding you past closing time. Let me make it up to you.” Just as the words leave her lips, Terry is allowing his eyes to glaze over her every feature. He hadn’t allowed himself to get too distracted by her earlier, as he wanted to get done working on her car as soon as possible. But seeing her within the low light of the setting sun, and the darkened garage now, a flood of feelings came back full force.

Her naturally brunette tresses were straightened to perfection, with layers falling around her face. Romance curls lingered along her shoulders, accented with the tiniest streaks of blonde. The dark hair brought out the depth of her hazel-brown eyes and Terry had to fight to not get lost in them. Or lost in the soul behind them.

Giselle Knowles. Daughter of the Knowles family who were all known for their entreprenurial spirit; and she was no different. When they first met, his mother introduced them in hopes that the sweet young woman she met in church would take interest in her true southern gentleman of a son. If only Mrs. Richmond knew that her plan would result in the opposite, and that GiGi would have a hold on TJ, she may not have introduced them.

Now, five full years later, after initially trying to court the siren of a woman and learning that she only wanted a friend in him, he had vowed to himself to be whatever she needed. So far, that was a mechanic and confidant, but he was always hoping for the moment when she would make it more.

"You hungry?" She asks, finding anyway that she can reciprocate the huge favor he had just done for her. Finally giving in to the insistent woman, Terry scratches along his temple as he shifts his weight.

"Yeah, I could eat."

“You still eat like a growing boy, I see.” Gi watched across the small table as Terry dove into his meal, chicken bones and utensils be damned. He stopped for a moment, glancing his icy blue eyes her way, before he lowered the half bird to the paper it was served on. His large hands fished for a napkin from the dispenser in the middle of the table, and ultimately grabbed the last one, bringing the thin piece of tissue paper to his mouth to wipe off the grease and chicken juice.

When he finally looked at his longtime friend, they both burst into a fit of laughter, remembering all of the times that she had witnessed TJ scarf his food down like he didn’t know where his next meal was coming from. Recovering from the tear inducing laughter, she could only shake her head, thinking of the response TJ gave her when she asked if he was hungry.

“Tal’m ‘bout, ‘I could eat.’ You was starving!” She continues to laugh, and Terry takes this time to admire her smile, as he chuckles a little beside her.

“I be try’nna tell you. Im not the same boy that you met some years ago. I’m a grown ass man, I gotta keep my weight up.” He flexes his muscles under hand and Gi’s eyebrows raise as she watches the muscles under his veined arms contract.

“Yeah, yeah, put those away, there’s kids around.” She jokes back, playfully glancing around their vicinity.

“Oh… oh.” He straightens his posture, and puts his arms in front of himself as if that would make him any smaller. They share a more quiet laugh, and then their eyes connect for yet another time tonight.

It’s almost awkward, as they look at each other for a moment longer, just taking the other in.

“When was the last time we got together like this?” Terry’s voice is soft in his inquiry, his hands reaching for the empty napkin dispenser to busy himself. Giselle feels his gaze get a bit more intense, and she averts her eyes to the half-eaten basket of fries before her.

“Um…” She thinks back to the few hangouts she’d had with friends throughout the year, and she can only single out one in particular.

“I think the last time it was just you and I was… after your mom’s memorial day cookout. So, May.”

“Damn, and it’s December, Gi.” Terry lets a beat of silence pass and then he’s shaking his head in thought.

“Nah, you gotta clear your calendar for me like twice a month, atleast one.” He reasoned. Friends that lived in the same state had to see more of eachother. Right?

Giselle takes a deep breath in, and looks to the side of her at the local chicken restaurant that was getting emptier and emptier as the hour passed. Her cheeks heated slightly as she assumed the implications of his words.

“Look, Terry. I told you before, you’re too young for me.” His eyebrows furrow for a second, and then a humored look fills his face in place of his natural pout.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, clearly. GiGi blinks at his apparent obliviousness, and motions toward him with her hands.

“I’m talking about you, saying I need to clear my schedule for you.” She repeats his words, and he finds himself scoffing at her assumptions.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, but I meant just to get together and catch up so…” Terry shrugs off the confusion, yet Giselle can feel even more heat rising in her cheeks and her palms grow sweaty. Why did I say that? She starts to rake her brain for when she missed the cues, or maybe created one from thin air.

Maybe he wasn’t pining after her anymore.

“Sorry…” A nervous laugh encases her apology, as she avoids his eyes at all costs. Suddenly, it seemed like if she looked at him she would burst into flames.

She recognized the feeling of embarrassment all too well, but… what was it that was pulling at her heart? Welling in the pit of her stomach?

When she was quiet for too long, Terry began to feel a slight pang in his chest. He knew her well enough to recognize when something was wrong; her face would fall, accentuating her pretty little pout and and then she would get spacey, glancing around at anything that wouldn’t grimace at her for staring. Just like she was now.

“Gigi?” He called out for her. But the only thing that changed was her eyes flickering up to his.

“What’s wrong?” What’s wrong? Maybe the random jump in her core when she watched him flex his muscles, or the way she smiled wider when she looked over his caramel complexion. This was not good.

“Nothing… and please don’t call me that.” She softens her tone so that she doesn’t take out her internal frustrations on him. But despite popular opinion, nothing had been peachy keen over on her side. Except for the money, but still, taxes came to mess with that too. Now, she was feeling things she had never felt before.

Terry jerked his head back slightly, confused by her sudden disdain for her widely known nickname.

“Everybody calls you GiGi, why can’t I?”

“Yeah, and everybody thinks they know me. They may know GiGi the hairstylist, but they don’t know Giselle.” She blinks and her eyes barely gloss over as she realizes the truth she is about to speak.

“But, you know me. So it’s different.” Terry listens to her deep country twang and hopes that he’s hearing her right. Is she… confessing?

He adjusts himself in his seat, and leans forward so that he can read her face better. He couldn’t afford to misunderstand her.

“So what would you rather me call you?” Yours.

“Everything good over here?” It takes Terry everything in him to drag his eyes away from Giselle, but when he does, he looks over at the waitress and gives her a polite nod.

“Cool.” She grabs the leather booklet with their bill from her wide apron pocket and places it between them on the table. “You guys can take care of that when you’re ready.”

Giselle was still too in her head to fully process that Terry was pulling two twenties from his wallet and telling the waitress to keep the change. But when the pretty young girl sauntered off with the paid tab, it was just them again. And they were able to pick up where they left off. Yet, Terry wanted to take the conversation somewhere else. Someplace where they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

In an effort to shield themselves from the cool fall night of the bustling downtown area, Giselle and Terry walk closer than before, foraging for heat. Their steps are slow, in tandem, as if they wanted to soak up the next few minutes of being next to each other. Both of their minds played their conversation back, scaling the words for different reasons.

GiGi hoped that she was clear with her doting, yearning words. But all she could remember was being vague as hell. And that wouldn’t serve either of them right now.

Terry paced over the words that he heard, dipping between them to try and read some other meaning. Was he missing something? It was pulling at him. A feeling a little too familiar, yet, it was shared now.

Their hands grazed the other as they walked as if they were joined at the hip. It was comfortable this way. Existing in the reality of the thing without fully acknowledging it.

But, Terry didn’t want comfortability. He wanted clarity.

“You still didn’t answer my question.” Giselle looks up at his side profile and then he turns his head so that his eyes can meet hers. For a moment they search inside eachother, hoping to get to the bottom of such intense feelings. Just as quickly as she looked at him, GiGi allows her eyes to fall to the pavement in front of her.

“Gi is fine. No one calls me that.” It wasn’t as different as she had first thought. And it surely wasn’t all that she had in mind for him to call her, but it would do for now.

“Hmph.” Terry lets his eyes rest on her for a moment more before he directs them to the path that they are walking on, and soon, they are reaching her glossy black Range. Silence was all that filled the space between them, and since she didn’t know what else to say, Giselle began to reach for her car door handle.

“Gi.”

His deep, gravelly voice calls out for her and she doesn’t give it a second before she is turning around to see what he wanted. Arms outstretched in front of him, Terry motioned for one of their infamous hugs, and though her eyes glossed over at the thought of him holding her with her feelings so raw, she didn’t deny him.

Giselle’s arms wrapped around Terry’s neck as if it was instinct, her body extended slightly as she stood on the tips of her toes, even in her Louboutins. Terry allowed his arms to squeeze her tight around her torso, holding her against him tenderly.

And for the first time the whole night, it was clear what each of them felt. Their heartbeats heightened in pace at the same exact time, pumping at the same exact rhythm.

GiGi tried her hand at taking a deep breath, which did absolutely nothing for her bleeding heart. All it did was allow her to take in a closer whiff of Terry’s scent, and she found her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She had no idea that the faint smell of motor oil, with his natural musk and the woody smell of his rosemary cologne would mix so well. But, it did something to her for sure.

“You get home safe, a’ight?” He begins to pull away yet they are still close, and her eyes open to gaze into his longingly. Without another thought, Giselle leans her face up and places the most velveteen kiss on his thick lips, her mind completely clear, just for a second.

Then, her eyes open and her inhibitions come rushing back in.

“Uh-I…” She tries to find the words but she is completely dumbfounded. It’s like her body was putty in his hands, but she didn’t want to do too much. She couldn’t.

As she begins to step back, Terry pulls her back in, and presses his forehead against hers.

“Stop holding back.” He rasps, wholly taken by the charm she had worked on him. It didn’t take her lips touching his for his feelings to be ignited, but just the thought that they were feeling the same things had his extremities ablaze. “Say what’s on your mind.”

“I want you.”

• • •

I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

• • •

༓TAGLIST༓

@motheroffae

*let me know if you want to be added to the ongoing tag-list in the comments*

#black fanfic writer #18+ mdni #romance #terry richmond #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond fic #beyonce #beyonce knowles #beyonce knowles x terry richmond #giselle knowles x terry richmond #Spotify

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erikftglitter · 3 months ago

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Christmas in Winona Springs 🤍🎄

Terry Richmond AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

Terry’s car had been giving him trouble for miles. He was headed north to visit his great aunt. He was also fond of the thought of a change of scenery, but the flat tire had put an abrupt halt to his plans. The only thing that he could see through the hovering clouds were a few cabins nestled among the trees.

Terry figured that this would be the only way to fix his problem in the current climate. He would check the cabin out, take a look, and find someone to help.

To Terry’s surprise, as he got closer to the cabins, he discovered that it was an actual resort. It was home to many different cabins and lodges, as well as camping grounds, tents, and a connecting lake. In the midst of the inconvenience, Terry still took time to appreciate the beautiful scenery.

He was greeted upon arrival within seconds.

The gentleman was older, his face lined with years, but he was as welcoming as could be. He was dressed comfortably and typical for someone who ran a cabin business. He sported a red and black flannel shirt and khaki work pants. He greeted Terry with a warm smile and ushered him out of harsh winds of the evening.

After accepting the man’s hospitality and enjoying coffee, Terry eventually explained his circumstance. He figured that the man would know someone with car services. Terry would happily fix the tire himself but he couldn’t get the tire off without the proper equipment.

“It’s late. Thankfully your car knew where to cause trouble.” The man chuckled. “Why don’t you settle in for the night and we can revisit this in the morning?” He offered.

“Are you sure?” Terry felt hesitant. It was never his intention to expect a hand out. He had took care of himself since a child and wasn’t fond of being a freeloader.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble. I can just call a tow truck or—”

“Nonsense. You’re in a pickle. It happens to the best of us.” The man smiled. His morals refused to allow anyone to struggle in his presence. “Stay the night. Get you some food, and tomorrow, we’ll fix that tire. No worries.”

Terry wasn’t sure what to make of it, but something in the older man’s voice—the calm certainty—made him set aside any skepticism. He didn’t have many other options and at least he’d be warm and safe.

“Thank you,” Terry finally said. He let his eyes roam the longue. It was supplied with wooden tables, warm, brown furniture with blankets topped over them, and the faint smell of apples and cinnamon felt surprisingly homey.

“My name’s Lee, by the way,” the man said as he led Terry to a clean room. “If you’re up for it, I’ll make you a drink.”

After the many hours of driving, and the ultimate disappointment of not arriving at his destination, Terry allowed Lee to make him a drink.

They sat at the small resort bar for hours. Terry found Lee to be an entertaining man. They sat and talked about everything and nothing. Lee told stories about the craziest experiences that he’s had over the years. A runaway bride being the most memorable. He got a great laugh out of eating on the wedding cake for weeks.

Terry shared a little about himself as well, but he didn’t think of himself as really interesting. He talked about his great aunt, who he was going to visit, his brief time in the service, and that is all that Terry Richmond summed himself up to be. Lee listened to everything though, patiently, never pushing, never judging.

He hadn’t expected to find comfort in the middle of nowhere, but here he was—sitting across from a stranger who felt more like an old friend. Lee was a wise man.

That night, Terry sat awake in the small guest room Lee had given him, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the place. Tomorrow, he’d help out around the resort to show his appreciation. For the first time in a long while, Terry felt needed.

[Two Months Later]

Terry never had the chance to see his great aunt before she succumbed to her illness. Stage 4 pancreatic cancer wasn’t an easy battle, and he’s just relieved that she was no longer suffering.

When Lee heard of the news he insisted that Terry stay the week. Being the honest man that he was, Terry wouldn’t allow Lee to house him without helping out. Business was going to become busy again as skiing became more common during the cooler months and Terry was determined to make it easier for Lee. He couldn’t stand the thought of Lee being left to repair cabins in the unforgiving weather condition and snow.

He helped him locate leaks and level the floor inside of the noisier cabins. Lee’s resort in Winona Springs was well-loved. Terry would stop to admire the photos that Lee had around the longue of families who came and went. Some even went as far as sending Lee annual holiday cards. Deep down, Terry wondered how it felt to be so loved.

But just as quickly as the thought came it left Terry’s mind. This is how he operated. He was unpredictable and flexible. He hadn’t seen home in months. How could he be loved if he disappeared from time and time again? This was his thing. He knew that he was a lone wolf and spent his adult years not trying to fight it.

Terry often filled in the work orders for Lee. He took quite a fall a few weeks before and Terry found himself being more upset than the older man.

“Terry. I’m old. This is the unrelenting truth of age, bud.” Lee laughed, reaching his hand out for Terry who eagerly helped him off the freshly waxed surface.

“Yeah I get that Lee, but don’t you have a nephew or something to help you out.” Terry’s heartbeat quickened at the realization that Lee was in fact an old man. Their unlikely alliance seemingly provided youth to Lee in Terry’s eyes. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he was definitely old enough to be his father. Definitely too old to run a rigorous business like a cabin resort alone, where snow and ice were detrimental for someone of Lee’s age.

“A nephew? I wish.” Lee sighed. “My brothers died much too soon. They didn’t have time to have any children.” Terry listened. Lee rarely spoke of his own family.

“It’s just me and my little girl.” Lee smiled and reached into his pocket. Terry watched as Lee rummaged through the thick leather wallet before retrieving his point of interest. He offered Terry a photo of a little girl who was missing two front teeth.

“I’m assuming she’s no longer a little girl.” Terry asked, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

“I’m afraid not. Baby girl’s big time in New York.” Lee sighed. “She visits every Christmas. I just miss the times when we did this together. Just me and her.” Lee looked down. He was starting to remember just how much he missed his family.

“Her mother died during a snowstorm.” Terry took a seat next to Lee. He hadn’t realized that he lost his wife so early on. He gave Lee is undivided attention.

“Car slid right off the road just before Christmas Eve.” Lee still didn’t look up from the floor where his eyes rested. Terry glanced back at the photo and back to Lee. The girl had his exact mocha colored skin tone. Terry wondered how much she resembled the older lad now.

“Is that why you allowed me to stay with you Lee?” Asked Terry. He knew that Lee came from a generation that was built on community, but Lee was more than polite to him. He took Terry in like he was his own.

“Yeah. I feel like she would want me to do that. I wish someone could have done it for her.” Lee admitted. Taking Terry in during a troubled time helped his conscious. He was more than happy to do it. “I had the space and the resources. So why not?” Lee smiled.

“You’re a stand up guy Terry Richmond.” Lee stated. Terry nodded at the praise. He was grateful for the opportunity to listen and learn from Lee.

“Hoping to be like you one day Mr. Parker.” They both laughed at the formality. They sat in silence for a while, silently watching the snow fall onto the ground. Terry wasn’t sure how long he’d be around but he knew that he wouldn’t be leaving his new friend alone anytime soon.

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #aaron pierre #terry richmond au #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #erikftglitter #ciwp

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its-time-to-write · 2 years ago

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hey big fan of your writing!! you write jamie so perfectly 💜 pls forgive me if you’ve already written something about this (i haven’t been able to find it if so) but could you write something post-mom city episode with the reader taking care of jamie when he’s hurt after the game and telling him how proud she is?? 🥹 thank you!!

This one’s canon compliant with you don’t want to know me for no reason other than the fact that I like to make my fics match up. It’s fun for me to pretend like I could write something with chapters someday😇 Hope you like it!

you’re in the kitchen humming

Of course, the one game you can’t go to is the one where Jamie gets injured so badly he has to come home on crutches. He’s not even the one who texts you about it. It’s Ted who writes, Your boy got hurt pretty badly. Might want to come pick him up when we get back.

So now you’re headed to AFC Richmond because Jamie only just let you know they’re back.

we’re in the treatment room, he says, and you don’t even take a moment to ask who we is.

It’s Roy and Keeley, and you aren’t a little bit surprised. They’re been passing around a bottle and laughing, so obviously Jamie can’t be hurt that badly. His right foot is stuck in a bucket of ice, so you get him up, say goodnight to Roy and Keeley, and help him tipsily hop to your car. Jamie chatters on about the game the whole ride home, only leaving room for you to interject the occasional “mhm,” or “I’m so proud of you!”

It’s somewhat of a chore to get him out of the car, mostly because he’s laughing so hard at the sheer absurdity of the situation, humor exaggerated by the champagne.

You finally maneuver him onto the couch and get him laid down, leg elevated. He’s still giggling.

You flip on the kitchen light to make him some food. You wonder briefly how many times you’ve done this: put Jamie on the couch, made him food, and let him take you to bed. It’s been a few years’ worth.

You’re at the stove humming softly, when you hear a tap thump, tap thump as Jamie hobbles over to wrap his arms around you from behind.

“Oi, you need to be lying down, mister,” you scold.

Jamie just presses his face into the crook of your neck.

“Can’t get comfortable. I’m still in my kit and I need help getting it off.”

His words are laced with a suggestive tone, made more apparent by the fact that his hands are no longer on your waist per se, but more under your waistband.

You put down the spatula and turn off the stove.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say in a tone that means listen the fuck up, “if you want even half a chance of getting in my pants tonight, you’ll go back to the couch and put ice on your ankle.”

His hands slip away and he groans, but complies. You shake your head and slide the eggs onto a plate.

You hate eggs, but they’re Jamie’s go-to post-match food. You asked him why once, and he said something about his mum and it being the only thing she could cook without burning.

So you suck it up and make him scrambled eggs every time he comes home from a game, whether home or away. Tonight, you bring him his plate on the couch, sit next to him, and hold it for him to eat.

You say softly, “I’m really proud of you, Jaim,” as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Didn’t really get a chance to say it, but I am. You absolutely smashed it today.”

Jamie smirks. “I got your emojis,” he says. “Had twenty-one missed texts from you, none of ‘em containing a single word.” He puts down his fork and reaches into a pocket for his phone. “Got a fuck-ton of hearts, some fireworks, and one squirrel.”

You blush. Ah yes. The squirrel.

“Don’t think I can make it up the stairs,” he laments. “Might just have to stay on the couch all night. Sad. Alone. Fucking horny.”

You roll your eyes and flick his arm with your free hand. “You done eating? Because you need a shower. You smell, and I’m not fucking you until you’re clean.”

Jamie grins. “But you are going to fuck me.”

You shake your head. Yes, you are. With a goal like that, how could you not? Plus his foot’s injured, and he must be in pain. He could use a good distraction.

Jamie’s mind has to be going in a similar direction because he asks, “You gonna shower with me? I hate showering alone.”

“Obviously,” you respond. “You can barely stand on your own and you’re going to need help with your hair.”

—

This shower is a lot less sexy than some might imagine. Jamie is trying to keep his balance without putting weight on his foot, but it’s difficult because it’s slippery. You’ve made it through most of his shower routine (and yours too) but now you’re at the final step. Conditioner.

You grab the bottle and Jamie frowns. “You remember how much to use?”

You nod, but he’s not convinced. “Let me put it on your hand,” he says, grabbing the bottle and forgetting to be careful of his ankle. He puts too much weight on it and it gives out with a “fuck,” leaving Jamie’s lips.

He’s slipping and trying to grab onto something and that something is you so now you’re both tangled on the floor of the shower, water running in your faces and Jamie grimacing from pain.

—

You do manage to get him back up and condition his hair to his satisfaction (“It’s a delicate balance, babe,”) but the slip was not good for Jamie’s ankle. You have to go back downstairs for more ice, so now he’s lying flat on his back on the bed, towel wrapped precariously loose around his waist. When you’re satisfied that the ice is secure and Jamie’s foot is at a good angle, you flop down in the bed next to him. You’re still in your towel, too.

“I can’t stop thinking about that kick,” you say.

Jamie asks, “Which one? I did a lot of those,” and you laugh.

“The one to block Man City’s goal. The one where you landed wrong. It was probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so, so proud of you. I just can’t get over the fact that you can do all that and then you come home to me. It boggles my mind.”

Jamie’s blowing tickly breaths in your ear to make you shiver. “I was pretty sexy, weren’t I?”

You laugh again. “Everything’s always about being sexy with you, isn’t it? Sure, I’ll admit you were sexy. But you were also admirable and selfless and brave and amazing. You can’t sell yourself short.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment, and you think he’s fallen asleep. You look over to see him staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.

You ask, “Are you crying?” and the words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying fuck no but you know he means fuck yes so you roll over to kiss him, because sometimes it’s better to leave some things unsaid. He’s pretty great, and you’re glad you’re the one who gets to tell him.

#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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ilovehugslikealotalot · 1 year ago

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I NEED CHRISTMAS THEMED REBECCA WELTON X READER

maybe one where there’s angst where Y/n is really close with Rebecca and the team so she spends lots of time at the club and Rebecca is trying really hard to Show y/n that she loves her but y/n is completely oblivious, Rebecca spills to Keeley how much she loves y/n and Keeley tells y/n abt and surprises Rebecca or something.

you can alter things so it makes sense! ☺️

Make Your Wish Come True

Rebecca Welton x Fem!reader

(not my gif)

WARNING: MINORS DNI, cliffhanger ending?

❝ She’s showed me what love was supposed to be. I find my heart so full of her I can hardly call it my own❞

-Rebecca Welton

~~✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿~~

“You know, I really don’t think she fancies me. I really just don’t seem her type, Keels” Y/n says, unconvinced of even the slightest possibility. “Oh come on! She totally fancies you!”

Keeley had known y/n since their middle school years. They’d always get into some chaos wherever they’d go, sometimes, (which means all the time) Keeley would be the one always in isolation for taking the pranks a bit too extravagant. One time, Keeley and Y/n egged their neighbors house. But, a certain someone took it a step too far and toilet papered his car and dyed his dog key lime green.

A year ago, Rebecca had met y/n whenever they had run into each other in the hallways of the FC. Of course, since Rebecca is Rebecca she was always quite professional, and with y/n being clumsy and always getting herself, sometimes others, injured with her recklessness.

Y/n was in a rush to get to Keeley on a particular Saturday, hearing heels clicking in the distance, y/n paid no mind, focusing entirely on her phone. “Y/n watch out!” A familiar voice shouted, but, before y/n could turn around her dance smashed into someone, someone tall, and blonde, and beautiful…

“Miss Y/l/n, I’d say to be careful, but we all know you’ll fall again,” Rebecca smiled, chuckling sweetly, making sure y/n didn’t trip and fall on the floor. Y/n freezes up slightly, but still manages to utter a coherent sentence. “Thank you, Becca,” The blonde woman nodded with the same charming smile and let go of y/n before walking off, a faint blush on her cheeks.

The two shorter women watched as Rebecca strutted away with her hips swaying perfectly as she went. “She wants you…”

“Not! I can only keep dreaming.” Y/n sighed dreamily staring at the mistletoe in the heavily decorated hallway. Ribbons and trees lined the tables, and festive lights seemed to burn your eyes.

“Maybe Santa can Make Your Wish Come True!” Keeley exclaimed, grabbing a Santa plushie off of her desk and squeaking it, causing the two to laugh.

——————————

Rebecca never thought she would find herself surrounded by the Ted’s little…friendship circle.

“So, uh, boss. What brings you here?” Ted smiles, his hands folder in his laugh. “Well..Uhm, I’m positive you all know y/n, correct?” Rebecca looks around, everyone nodding, listening intently. “I…I feel…strongly toward her,” she had worded it that way for a reason, she was quite unsure about this, the memories of her last relationship with Rupert still haunting her mind. “Strongly, how?” Nate asked, slightly squinting his eyes as if he knew what she was going to continue with, Rebecca sighed, “I like her, I really do” Higgins clapped his hands together, “I knew it!”

“Like or love?” Roy bluntly enjoined, the blonde stood there for a minute to finally admit to herself what she had register for long.

“Love.” She spoke barely above a whisper, Roy smirked, to tease Rebecca further he urged her to be louder, “Huh?”

“I said I love her! Okay?!”

That was they had needed. From that point forward, everybody in AFC Richmond knew about about Rebecca’s little plan. She gave y/n extravagant gifts, showered her in compliments, and flirted every chance she got. Yet, y/n and her infinite wisdom thought that Rebecca was being friendly. In all truth, the blonde was about to just come clean, so, to prepare herself, Rebecca goes on to tell Keeley about just how much she’s willing to go for y/n. Though, she might’ve already known.

At the little firm Keeley had been managing, Rebecca hastily made her way to her best-friend’s office. A state of panic washed over her, she really just didn’t know what to do, she’d never dated a woman so this was all knew to her. “Keeley?” The taller woman called, opening the door, “Becca! What’s this about, y/n? Did you finally snog her?”

Keeley was one to be quite blunt when it came to romantic questions. “No, sadly” Rebecca chuckled joylessly, tossing her bag on Keeley’s office couch. Keeley frowned, hating the look on Rebecca’s face, “Man, is she really that blind?” She joked, chuckling at Rebecca’s little smile, “why don’t you just tell her? She likes you, isn’t it obvious at this point?” Rebecca looked at up at her in disbelief, “you’re joking?” Keeley almost screamed, these two were a bunch of idiots. For a literal month, these two had been pining for each other, they’ve been flirting non-stop and yet they still don’t know if the other likes the other? Jesus Christ, they were going to be the death of her.

Rebecca jumped out of her seat and ran to her car, the snow falling gracefully as the cold hit her cheeks. Buttoning her jacket to keep warm, she dialed a certain someone’s phone number..

#rebecca welton #open requests #rebecca welton x reader #ted lasso #rebecca is mother #she’s so fucking beautiful #she’s my wife #omg this is so cute

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 years ago

Text

Cruel Summer (Superstar Chapter 7)

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

New faces at Nelson Road cause quite a stir.

Roy Kent x Reader

7.5k words

Warnings: Language, angst, drinking, Roy flirting hard, my heart breaking if you listen closely

Thank you so much for all the love! This chapter was probably the hardest for me to write so far, so I hope you enjoy- even if it hurts!

Bzzz!

My phone vibrated in my hand as I sat in Rebecca’s office. It was packed: Rebecca, Ted, Beard, Keeley, Higgins, Roy, me. We were a tense party as we waited for word that Dario Vargas had arrived at the Dog Track, staring at our phones in anticipation. All eyes turned to me the moment my phone went off, wondering if this was the signal.

Looking fucking fit in that skirt. Think anyone would notice if I dragged you into the boot room later so I could show you how much I like it?

Heat flooded my face. “Just my Mum. Wants to wish us luck with the big announcement today,” I lied. My eyes flickered across the office to Roy, who stood in the far corner of the office, hands in his pockets as he gazed at the ceiling, acting as if he hadn’t just made me blush through a text message. With the amount of time I’d spent looking at his face over the past few months, it was easy for me to spy the tiniest smirk hiding under his bored expression.

It was nice that Roy noticed the difference in my appearance, though. Usually, I wore jeans and a sweater to the office, often Richmond ones, especially on match days. Today called for something a bit different though; it was press conference day. We all knew that meant to look camera-ready, even if we weren’t the ones behind the microphones. For me, that meant a pencil skirt, blouse, and heels. And apparently Roy didn’t mind the change of wardrobe one bit.

Leaning back so Ted, who sat on the couch beside me drumming out a beat on his thigh, couldn’t see my screen, I switched my phone to silent and quickly typed a response.

Honestly? Once Vargas is in the building I doubt anyone would notice if we went at it in the middle of the changing room.

I eyed Roy discreetly as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it. His jaw twitched as his thumbs flew across the screen.

Thanks for the new fantasy.

My face burned. This man is going to be the death of me.

Before I could figure out some clever response, Rebecca let out a sound, a loud, high-pitched mix between a laugh and a gasp. We all turned to look at her.

“He’s here,” was all she said.

Everyone stood and filed out of the office; Rebecca and Ted to the parking lot, the rest of us to the changing room, where the team would be waiting.

“Down, boy,” I whispered to Roy as he walked just a smidge too close, letting his hand softly graze my skirt. In response, he smirked and nudged me playfully, but returned to a respectable distance.

Unlike Rebecca’s office, the air in the changing room was filled with a tense excitement as the guys chattered amongst themselves. They all waved and called hellos to us as we entered, their expressions contrasting ours. Of course, it was different for them than for us; they were excited, even thrilled to have a new teammate to help the team succeed and push them to be better versions of themselves. For the rest of the staff, there was a shared sense of anxiety. Would this player be that “thing” Richmond needed to win? Would he mesh well with the guys? Would he be easy to get along with, or a prima donna even worse than Jamie used to be?

“-and here is the changing room,” Rebecca was saying as she held open the door.

Everyone straightened up as Dario Vargas entered, followed by a small entourage made up of Ted and a photographer. He was exactly the way I remembered him looking in the magazine: light brown hair just past his ears, blue eyes, clean-shaven, and a megawatt smile. If he was as exceptional on the field as he was to look at, Richmond’s prospects looked great.

Ted led Dario around the room, introducing each player to him with a fun little fact; Sam owned a restaurant, Isaac loved the movie Age of Innocence, Jan was into true crime, Dani “hablas Español!”.

“And this here’s some of our staff,” Ted continued, turning his attention to the rest of us. He quickly introduced Dario to Beard, who tipped his hat, and Roy, who scowled. Then Ted turned to me, proudly presenting me as “the glue that keeps this whole operation together”.

Ted went on. “Seriously, though. This right here is the nicest gal you’ll ever meet. Goes infinity and beyond for this team like she’s Buzz Lightyear. Hell, even grumpy ol’ Roy here’s got a soft spot for her.” My cheeks warmed as I refused to look anyone in the eye. “Anything you need, Dario, you just ask this one. She’ll take care of ya.”

I blushed at Ted’s praise as I faced Dario Vargas. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

Dario took my hand and planted a small kiss on it; the team whistled like boys on the schoolyard. “Mucho gusto, belleza,” he purred.

Beside me, I could feel Roy cross his arms and stiffen. Great. As soon as they moved on to Keeley and took the attention with them, I gave Roy a miniscule bump. He glanced down at me out of the corner of his eye, his mouth curved down. I raised my eyebrows, hoping that just looking at him would be enough to calm him down.

Keeley cleared her throat, catching everyone’s attention. “Alright, well now that introductions are out of the way, why don’t we head to the pi-”

“Hello, Richmond!”

A knot formed in my stomach as soon as that syrupy voice reached my ears. Bursting through the doors looking like she’d just stepped out of a magazine was Brittany Brett. She sauntered up to Dario, who grabbed her and kissed her, dipping her slightly as the photographer’s camera click click clicked and the guys tittered. I inched closer to Roy, barely brushing my arm against his, as if the feather-light touch would somehow brand him as mine, mine, mine.

Apparently, my brilliant plan didn’t work, because, while Keeley ushered Dario and Ted out so they could head to the pitch for some quick photos before the press conference, Brittany Brett strolled in our direction. My fingers were trembling as my throat dried up. There she was. Brittany Brett. Standing in my changing room, with my team. Staring at my Roy.

A smirk played on her glossy lips as she gazed up at Roy through the longest, thickest lashes I’d ever seen. “Coach Roy, aren’t you happy to see me?” She opened her arms as if for a hug and raised a playful eyebrow, a pout on her pump lips.

Arms still crossed, Roy grunted and rolled his eyes. Without a glance in her direction, he turned around and grabbed my arm gently. He looked down at me, mouth set in a straight line. “I’ll be in our office. Tell me when it’s time for the shit show.” He stalked off, slamming the office door behind him.

Brittany Brett’s eyes fell on me as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. She smirked. “Roy’s always been a bit of a wanker, hmm?”

Oh, fuck you. I stood up a bit taller, still nowhere close to Brittany Brett’s statuesque height. “Actually, I think Roy’s the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

“Hmm.” She looked me up and down, her cool expression making me question each article of clothing I’d put on that morning, right down to my knickers. “You work for Roy, don’t you? As his assistant, was it? I saw you hanging around him at Rebecca’s darling little charity gala.”

Heat surged through my whole body. “I’m the coaching staff’s administrative coordinator.” No one would correct the slight promotion I’d just given myself. “Roy and I work together.”

Her eyes narrowed microscopically for a moment, her smile never fading. “Guess we’ll be seeing loads of each other then. Nice to meet you.” She icily turned on her ridiculously high heel and strutted out of the changing room, taking several gazes with her.

“Wow, she does not like you.” Jamie had appeared at my side. “You alright?”

I glanced around at the guys, milling about and chattering excitedly about their new teammate as they prepared for the day’s training. “Just annoyed at how pretty she is,” I grumbled. “And that she used to shag Roy.”

Jamie snorted. “I get that. I hate every guy Keeley’s ever been with.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “But just remember.” He looked over his shoulder before lowering his voice. “Roy loves ya.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” I muttered, giving him a soft punch in the arm. “See you in a bit, yeah?”

I quietly walked into the office, where I found Roy leaning back in his chair, head tilted back, eyes closed. He opened one at the sound of the door opening and closed it again when he saw it was me.

“She gone?” he growled.

“Back to the pits of hell I hope,” I answered, closing the door and the blinds that looked into Ted’s office. “I kind of hate her,” I mumbled as I sank onto his lap, tossing my phone onto his desk.

Roy grunted and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Just my fucking luck that of all the footballers in Europe, she’s shagging the one we sign.” He buried his face in my neck. “Wanna fucking quit our jobs?”

I snorted. “I actually quite like my job. I can’t quit just because a model is rude to me.”

“At least Vargas seems to like you. A little too fucking much, I might add,” Roy grumbled, his scruff rubbing against my skin.

“Oh hush.” I lifted his chin so he could look at me. “I only like cranky retired footballers-turned-coach, alright?”

That earned me a smile from Roy. “Alright.” He kissed me gently, his hand finding its way into my hair, ignoring the fact that we were in the middle of our office on a day where the press was crawling about. His lips against mine was enough to make me forget until I caught sight of my mobile screen lighting up with a text alert.

Heading to the press room, the text from Keeley read. I reluctantly removed myself from Roy.

“Time for the shit show.”

I smiled as I watched Roy lay on the floor with Phoebe after dinner. From the look on his face, the ongoing drama between Phoebe’s dolls was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard in his life. His eyes flickered to me for a brief moment, his face softening into a look of complete fondness before turning back to his niece.

I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“I have never seen my brother love someone so much,” Roy’s sister murmured, handing me a glass of wine as she joined me at the table.

I nodded. “Oh, he adores Phoebe. Talks about her all the time.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Not Phoebe. You.” She smiled. “You’re really good for him, you know that?” Before I could deflect the compliment, she held up a finger. “Don’t play humble. He’s really happy. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. He’s got a dog, he’s swearing less around Phoebe, he smiles all the time now.” She paused. “At least, all the time by Roy standards.”

“He makes me pretty happy too,” was all I could think to say. After a heavy silence, I added, “Thanks for inviting us over, by the way.” I smiled.

She shook her head. “I’m really glad we could finally do this. You’re so important to him. Which means you’re important to us.”

My heart swelled at her words. “I love how much time he spends with Phoebe,” I said, attempting to redirect the attention. “She’s great.”

“She thinks pretty much the same thing about you,” she chuckled. “Absolutely obsessed with you. Every day she asks if she can go over to Uncle Roy’s so she can play with you and Oscar.”

Right on cue, Phoebe bustled over, squeezing herself into my arms; I obliged and pulled her into a hug.

“Will you come to my ballet recital?”

The recital in question was still a couple of months away; for weeks now, Phoebe had asked me the same question every time she saw me. And each time, I answered the same.

“Of course. And I’ll bring you pink roses, alright?”

Satisfied with my unchanging answer, Phoebe gave me a small squeeze, took a sip of her juice that sat on the table, and ran back to her Uncle Roy, who was now wearing a tiara and holding a wand. He rolled his eyes lightheartedly as the small girl tackled him, roaring like a dragon.

I chuckled and turned back to his sister. “Alright, where’s that album you were telling me about?”

“Right here.” She nudged the bright blue photo album towards me with a sly grin. “Don’t let Roy see,” she stage-whispered.

“Don’t let me see what?” Roy called, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as Phoebe pretended to breathe flames out of her mouth.

I waved him off as I opened the book. “Never you mind.” My eyes were glued to the page before me. “Oh my God, he’s adorable,” I gushed, pointing at a picture of a young Roy hugging a football, mop of thick black hair on his head. “How old was he here?”

His sister squinted at the photo. “About five, maybe?” She pointed to another photograph. “That’s the first time our grandad took him to a match. He came home babbling nonstop about becoming a professional footballer when he grew up.” She rolled her eyes. “And of course, he was right, the bastard.”

I laughed and turned the page, pointing at photos and letting Roy’s sister tell me the stories behind each one. My eyes travelled with joy from image to image, watching Roy grow from an adorable child with a football at his feet to a surly teenager with his arms crossed to a grumpy adult only smiling when he was with Phoebe. His whole life right here, between the pages of a book. Despite spending an embarrassing amount of years with his face plastered on my walls, I could feel an intimacy as I looked at these photos; I was glimpsing the Roy Kent that no one else got to see, the Roy that looked at me tenderly and wrapped his arms around me at night. And a not-so-small part of me couldn’t help but wonder if I’d make it into that photo album someday.

“You are not looking at that thing,” Roy growled as he sat at the table, picking up the beer he’d left there.

“’course I am,” I scoffed, turning another page. “You never know when blackmail is going to come in handy.”

He shook his head and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close so he could plant a kiss on the top of my head. “You can fucking keep her,” he offered to his sister.

She laughed, taking a drink of her wine. “If you were smart, you’d keep her.” She shot me a wink.

Another kiss landed on top of my head. “I plan to.”

“What d’you want for lunch today?” Roy raised his thick eyebrows at me while slipping on his leather jacket.

“Hmm…” I tapped my pen against my desk. “We haven’t had gyros yet this week. Kinda been craving one lately.”

He nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Oh, is this your office? How cute.”

I whipped my head around. Brittany Brett. Of course.

Roy scowled and looked back at me. “’ll bring you two gyros. Be right back.”

A silence settled over the office once he left. I glanced at Brittany, who was looking at Roy’s desk with far too much interest. For a few minutes I tried focusing on my work, hoping she’d take the hint and go away. Instead, she leaned over Roy’s desk to pick up the photo I’d taken of him and Phoebe at The Sound of Music. Finally, I cleared my throat.

“Need something?”

She looked up at me, her expression telling me that she’d completely forgotten I was there. In my own office. “Oh, nothing really. Just waiting for Dario to finish training.” Her gaze fell back to Roy’s desk; apparently, she was not going away anytime soon. I saw her do a double take at the simple heart I’d drawn on a sticky note and stuck to his desk a few weeks back. “So, Roy Kent’s grabbing his own lunch then?” She let out a small laugh. “Wow. On every job I’ve ever been on, it’s always the assistant’s job to grab lunches. They do all the little jobs, you know.”

My eyes narrowed. “Well, that’s not how we do things at Richmond.”

Brittany smiled at me- one of those smiles that horribly beautiful people have perfected, the one where you know they’re laughing at you on the inside- and nodded. “Clearly.” Her eyes flickered to my work area now. “What’s this?” She strolled over, eyes skimming my orange sticky note, mumbling the words To my biggest fan. XOXO Roy Kent. “Well, isn’t that just cute, you made him sign an autograph.”

I crossed my arms across my chest with a huff. “It’s an inside joke between Roy and me.”

“Oh, you have inside jokes together, hmm?”

“Yup. Coworkers sometimes do.” Go away, go away.

She remained in place, gazing at the photo of my family that suddenly felt juvenile. “Bet you just love working here. Being surrounded by all those footballers, fit and handsome and rich.”

I snorted at the implication. “Surrounded by the smell of their sweat is more like it,” I muttered, feeling riled up by the absolute condescension in her voice.

She knew she was getting under my skin. “Oh, do you prefer grumpy coaches?”

Alright. She won. “So did you need something, or can I get back to work?”

Before Brittany could answer, Dario Vargas poked his head into the office. “There you are,” he said to Brittany. His face lit up when he saw me. “Hola, belleza,” he greeted. While I didn’t love the attention he paid to me, I couldn’t help but enjoy the slight annoyance it brought to Brittany Brett’s face whenever she heard him call me beautiful. He turned back to his perturbed girlfriend. “Ready?”

She tossed a little smirk in my direction as she took Dario’s outstretched hand. “I’ll see you later, Roy Kent’s biggest fan,” she called over her shoulder in a sing-song voice.

“Freaking cow,” I muttered under my breath as I returned to my laptop.

“Who’s a cow?”

Keeley bounded into the office, ponytail swinging behind her. She perched herself on my desk, curiosity playing on her face.

I hesitated a moment; I still wasn’t sure how Keeley felt about Brittany Brett. But the earnest interest in Keeley’s eyes encouraged me. “Brittany Brett,” I muttered.

“Ooh, really?” She leaned forward, that devilish smile on her face. “Hmm, you don’t like Roy Kent’s ex-girlfriend. Why would that be?”

“You know, if I did fancy him- which I’m not saying I do- you’d be doing a shit job of helping me keep it secret,” I pointed out.

Keeley shrugged. “What if I wasn’t interested in helping keep it secret? What if I’m interested in telling him all about how hot you are for him so he can stop being a knob and ask you out already?”

Why is my office being bombarded by models intent on annoying me today?!

“Keeley-”

She shook her head. “Babes, stop denying it already! I’ve seen the way you go all red every time the man walks into the room. And on press conference day, his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you in that little skirt.”

I blushed at the memory of the way Roy had looked at me that day. “Keeley, are you in here for a reason?”

“I was just popping in to say hi,” she admitted, glancing at her impeccable nails. “And you still haven’t explained why Brittany Brett is a cow.”

I winced. “She’s not a friend of yours, is she? Because I know you’ve done a couple shoots together and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you like her and-”

Keeley wrinkled her nose. “Nah, she is a bit of a cow. She once tried to hit on Jamie at a wrap party when I was standing right next to him.”

“See, that absolutely sounds like her,” I scoffed. “I know everyone’s excited about this Vargas thing, and I am too. I want to win, but shit, what do we have to put up with to get there? She’s here all the damn time, and Rebecca says she can’t exactly tell Dario she can’t hang around when you’re always here, but you work with us, so I think it’s a shit excuse because we all just want to make Dario happy. And she just hovers and flirts with the boys and I dunno what business she has in my office, looking at my things, touching Roy’s shit. Like, fuck, doesn’t she have a camera to go stand in front of?” I paused. “Shit, no offense, Keeley. Scratch that last comment, I’m just being a grouch.” I let out a deep breath. Ranting felt good.

Keeley stared at me with wide eyes. “Wow. You’re really jealous of Brittany Brett, babe.”

I sighed. “It’s not that. I just hate that she called me Roy’s assistant.”

“Um…” Keeley cocked her head at me pitifully. “You are his assistant.”

“No, I’m the coaching staff’s administrative coordinator or assistant or whatever the fuck you always call me,” I grumbled. “Assistant makes it sound like I spend my time picking up Roy’s lunch. Everyone knows he brings me lunch.”

A softness appeared on Keeley’s face. “And everyone knows you are an absolutely essential part of this team, babe.”

I nodded. “Exactly. Those idiots wouldn’t be able to function without me.”

“What idiots?”

Roy stood in the doorway, takeaway bag in one hand, and a cup with a straw in the other. He took a sip, looking at me expectantly.

“Ted. Beard.” I nodded in his direction. “You.”

He furrowed his brow. “’m not a fucking idiot.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. Roy, you’re just as useless as Ted and Beard. Maybe worse.” I could feel Keeley’s eyes bouncing back and forth between us like a tennis match. “Like, what time’s that interview Keeley set up for you?”

“Whatever time you drag me out of my chair and tell me to go to my fucking interview,” he answered, shrugging as if it were obvious.

“It’s at three. And what is the interview about?” I raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Roy took another sip of his soda. “Whatever the wanker journalist asks me about.”

“It’s for a piece on the football club you founded for underprivileged children in your old neighborhood. Also, in about fifteen minutes, you’re going to get cold and go looking for your jacket. You left it in the weight room when you were screaming at Jamie.” I reached my hand out. “I’ll take my gyros now.”

Even with Keeley right there watching us, Roy couldn’t hide the small grin on his face as he handed me the bag of food. “Here, you bossy thing. Let me know when I’m allowed to eat.”

“Fuck. You two are like, work married or some shit,” Keeley giggled. “Now, kiss.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You can leave now, Keeley.”

She hopped off my desk, shooting me a wink. “Aww, do Mr. and Mrs. Kent need some alone time?” She giggled as she passed by Roy, giving him a soft nudge. “You two make a lovely couple,” she called over her shoulder as she left.

Roy slumped into his chair, swiveling it around to face me. “I do like the sound of alone time,” he hummed.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Then hurry up and eat your lunch,” I retorted. “I’ve got you scheduled for a quick snog before your interview.”

Richmond wasn’t supposed to beat Man City. Everyone knew that.

So, when the final whistle blew on a 2-1 Richmond victory, everyone went berserk. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought we’d won the whole “kit and kaboodle”, as Ted would say, rather than a regular season match of little consequence. On the pitch, the boys leaped into each other’s arms, laughing and shouting at one another. In the dugout, Ted, Beard, and Roy shook hands, smiles all around. I stood off to the side, clutching my tablet and shaking my head, a laugh trapped in my chest. Normally, I’d have watched this game with friends at home or in a pub, beer splashing all over us with the final whistle. Instead, I now stood on the pitch at Nelson Road, feeling the roar of the crowd and players burrow beneath my skin.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind. When I looked up, Roy was grinning down at me. “Get the fuck out there!” he yelled over the noise. Without warning, he grabbed my tablet and tossed it to Will, then lifted me off my feet and carried me out to the pitch as I squealed with laughter, Ted and Beard running just ahead of us to join the team.

In an instant, I was swallowed into a sea of bright blue as the boys jumped up and down, shouting with the fans in the stands: “We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die! We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die!”

A pair of hands reached out and took mine; it took a moment to realize it was Jamie. He pulled me into a tight hug before I was grabbed by Sam, then Isaac, and in time I had been embraced by each member of the team, pats on my back and kisses on the top of my head. Eventually, I found my way through the throng back to Roy, who pulled me into the tightest hug of all, his embrace letting me know that he would give me a proper celebration kiss the moment we were alone. For a brief moment, I didn’t care where we were; I wanted that kiss now.

Before I could lift my face to Roy’s, Ted grabbed me and wrapped me in a bear hug, babbling about how happy he was and something about a pig and slop. I nodded and smiled, the way I always did when I wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, as we took the celebration into the changing room. Over my shoulder, I could see Roy and Jamie chattering and walking together with springs in their steps, Roy’s bright eyes on me.

In the changing room, the boys continued their celebration, blasting music and dancing around. Somewhere in all of it, the decision was made to move the festivities to a local club. I eyed Roy, who I knew hated clubs even more than I did. He met my gaze with a defeated shrug; he knew we really had no choice.

That’s how I found myself in a dark club, drink in hand, surrounded by Richmond players and staff. Keeley had insisted I go home and change out of my Richmond jumper and into “something you’ll look fit in”. In the back of my closet, I had found the little black dress I often wore when my girlfriends took me on a night out. With a little extra makeup and a pair of heels, I felt strangely confident as I arrived at the club. My confidence amplified when Keeley shrieked at the sight of me.

“Fuck, you look great!” she gushed, squeezing me. “Roy’s gonna drag you out of here all caveman-style.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending that wasn’t a very real possibility. “You act like my world revolves around the man.”

She smirked. “I bet his revolves around you. Look.” She nodded across the club, pointing out Roy, who stood with Jamie, beer in hand, eyes fixated intensely on me. “That is a man planning on getting lai-”

“I’ll go with you to say hello if you don’t finish that sentence,” I promised, linking my arm with Keeley’s. The offer seemed good to Keeley, apparently, because she kept her mouth shut as we made our way over to the guys.

While Keeley threw her arms around Jamie, I turned to Roy. He smirked down at me as he took a sip of his beer.

“You wanna dance?” he asked.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

He shrugged. “It’s a celebration. Everyone’s fucking sloshed. No one’ll notice, ’cept maybe Keeley, once she removes Tartt’s tongue from her throat.” Sure enough, Keeley and Jamie were locked in a pretty intense embrace against a wall.

“Then let’s dance,” I agreed.

Roy set our drinks on the bar and slipped his hand into mine, guiding me to the dance floor. Normally, I hated clubs; too loud, too crowded, too lonely. But when Roy planted his hands firmly on my hips and pulled me closer to himself, I found myself wondering if maybe I’d misjudged clubs. Part of me again wished I could just reach up and kiss him, the way other couples like Jamie and Keeley did. Maybe the time was approaching to rethink the whole “keeping things quiet” thing. Maybe Roy felt the same way. After all, this was something serious. We’d met each other’s families. I had my own key to his house. There was a dog that I had named that slept at the foot of Roy’s bed. We were building a life together. And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep it a secret anymore.

A buzz of chatter interrupted my thoughts. I craned my neck and saw what- or who- had caused such a commotion: Dario Vargas and Brittany Brett had arrived, looking more like they were going to a movie premiere than celebrating a regular-season win with the team. As I took in the sight of Brittany in her cutout dress that was more skin than dress, my outfit suddenly felt like something a uni student would buy for her first night out with her girlfriends.

As if he could feel my insecurities bubbling to the surface, Roy grunted to get my attention. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” he called over the music. “Can’t believe I haven’t seen that dress yet.”

I offered Roy a tight smile, my heart not quite in it. It had been exhausting since Dario- and Brittany- had arrived at Richmond. The paparazzi were hanging around much more than usual, Dario was constantly trying to find an excuse to talk to me, the players I loved turned into drooling children when Brittany would walk in the room, and I had to have this constant reminder about the kind of girls Roy usually went for and how vastly different I was from them.

Trying to ignore the growing pit in my stomach, I danced with Roy to a few more songs before I finally suggested we grab drinks. We found Jamie and Keeley still at the bar, but at least now they had come up for air. We had just settled with beers when someone- probably Isaac- suggested the whole team take shots. It wasn’t long before someone else- maybe Dani this time- suggested another round. And on and on until the night started to become a blur of alcohol and music and Roy’s smile and Brittany Brett hovering on the periphery.

I was on shot number who knows when Roy stood from the couch we’d been sitting on and announced that he’d be right back with another drink and some water. I had been alone for all of two seconds when I felt someone sit on my other side. Fully expecting Keeley or Jamie or literally anyone else, I froze when I saw it was Brittany Brett.

“Having fun?” she hummed, her eyes travelling over my dress, the dress Roy had assured me he liked.

I cleared my throat, determined to be nice. “I am, actually. Yourself?”

She shrugged, a bored expression on her too-perfect face. “I guess. Getting a little tired of all the papps following Dario and me around, you know?” She scrunched her nose. “Or maybe not.”

Cow.

She continued. “You and Roy seem very chummy,” she observed. “If I didn’t know his type, I’d think there was something between you.” The fakest smile I’d ever seen appeared on her face. “Not that anyone could blame you for having a crush on Roy Kent. He’s fit and famous, not to mention loaded. Quite a catch.”

The number of shots I’d taken didn’t let me resist. “That’s not why I like him,” I disputed. “I like him because he’s kind and he’s funny and he takes care of the people he loves. I like him because he’s a fantastic uncle, and he’s passionate about coaching, and he sings along to Julie Andrews movies.” I shook my head. “Sure, I had a crush on him before I knew all that, but that’s not why I’m dating him.”

Fuck.

If this was news to Brittany Brett, she did not show it. Instead, her lips formed a tiny smirk as her eyes flickered somewhere behind me. “Oh. You are shagging Roy Kent then?”

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the way Brittany Brett made me feel so fucking small. Maybe it was the months of pretending that Roy and I were just friends. Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen.

“Yeah,” I confirmed, sticking my chin out. “I’m shagging Roy Kent.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “And let me guess. He’s sweet to you, even though he’s an arse to the rest of the world. He lets you wear his Richmond shirts to bed. He tells you all about Phoebe and their little uncle-niece dates. He likes to sit and read together on rainy days. He lets you pick the movies, even if he knows he’ll hate them.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Yeah. I know what it looks like to be with Roy Kent. Hell, I know what it looks like to have Roy Kent want to marry you.” She tilted her head, her voice dripping with condescension. “Do you?”

My mouth was dry as I tripped on my words. “That doesn’t- we’ve only been- he’s-” I swallowed hard, taking in only air. “He loves me.”

Brittany nodded patronizingly. “I’m sure you think he does. But let’s be honest, you’re just there to fill time until I take him back.” She sipped her drink. “Which may be sooner than you think,” she added with a smirk.

The pit in my stomach grew. “You dumped him,” I said dumbly. “What makes you think he’d want to be with you again?”

She leaned in close, her smile now completely evil. “Love, stop kidding yourself that you matter to him. You’re just a distraction. You just remember that, hmm?” She stood, leaving her empty glass on the low table. “Why else would he not tell anyone about you?” With a tiny wave of her fingers, she was gone in the crowd.

It was a good thing I was already sitting, because my legs were weak. The entire club was spinning as the pulsating music attacked my ears and confused the rhythm of my heart. As I debated just running out of the club, Roy came back, smile on his face and drinks in his hands.

“Sorry,” he called out, sitting back beside me and slipping one of the drinks into my grasp. “Lasso insisted on fucking ‘coach shots’ with him and Beard. He sent me to find you so we could do a round together all four of us, but I was actually wondering if you wanted to get out of here.” He raised his thick eyebrows at me. “It’s about Oscar’s bedtime,” he joked.

“I want to tell people about us,” I blurted out.

Roy blinked a few times, clearly taken aback by my sudden demand. “Oh. Wow. Fuck.” He leaned back onto the couch, eyes still on me. “Alright, well I guess tomorrow we could talk about-”

I shook my head. “No. Roy, I want to tell people right now.” I gestured around us. “Our families already know. The whole team’s here. Hell, there’s even reporters wandering around somewhere. All we’d have to do is kiss-”

The frown on Roy’s face was deeper than I’d ever seen. “Reporters? You want to tell fucking reporters about us?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Roy, I didn’t mean that-”

“Well then what the fuck did you mean?” His face was so twisted that his eyebrows nearly touched. “You know I fucking hate the tabloids. We can talk about how to tell the gits at Richmond, but fuck reporters. Fuck photographers. Fuck all of that.”

My grip tightened on the untouched drink in my hand. “Because I’m a nobody, right? Because you’re scared of all the shit they’re going to say about me, your measly little assistant?”

Roy shook his head incredulously. “The fuck are you on about? I don’t want fuck all to do with them because I find them annoying as shit. They’ll just go on and on about me being an old geezer shagging some twenty-year-old girl. You don’t know what it’s fucking like to deal with all that bullshit.”

“No, I guess some twenty-year-old girl isn’t worth all the hassle,” I spat back.

“What the fuck is this about?” He set his glass down and held his hand out to me. “Come on. Let’s go home. We can crawl into bed and talk about this without some shitty strobe lights making my night vision worse.”

“Because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?” My voice was tiny, so tiny I wasn’t sure if Roy even heard me.

But he did. “Embarrassed?” he repeated. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I want to go home because I’m fucking old.” He stared at me in disbelief. “Why the fuck do you care about anyone knowing about us? I mean, fine, let’s fucking tell Keeley and Rebecca and the gaffers so we can stop sneaking about. I don’t mind telling Isaac and them. But why the fuck is it anyone else’s business but ours?” The panic in his eyes made it clear: He still doesn’t want anyone to know about me.

I slammed my glass down beside his. “Because I’m fucking tired, Roy. I’m sick of the sneaking and pretending and of feeling like some shitty little secret.” Fuck. There were tears forming in my eyes now. “I feel like fucking nothing. Like, I’m invisible and everyone knows who you are. Fucking ‘He’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where’, fucking Roy Kent Effect, fucking Chelsea legend with his thousands of models and shit.”

Even in the shitty club lighting, I could see Roy’s face turn red. “Hey. You knew exactly who the fuck I was when we met. How could you not with all those fucking posters plastered here, there, every-fucking-where?”

His words knocked the wind out of me. The posters. It was a joke between us, one we shared fondly. An embarrassing story I felt sure he would tell at our wedding someday in the future. The adorable meet-cute we’d share with friends, colleagues, maybe even our kids someday. But now it was being thrown in my face like something to be ashamed of. As if I was still nothing but that stupid little fan I’d felt like the moment Roy had first seen those fucking posters.

“If that’s how you feel.” I stood, rummaging through my clutch until I found my keys. “Here, don’t want a fucking stalker like me having this.” I yanked off his house key and dropped it on the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the press about how you love Julie Andrews or about your dog being named after a Sesame Street character or that thing you do with your hips or any of the nice shit you deigned to do for a fucking nobody like me.”

Roy’s face crumpled as he looked at the key on the table. “Is this really what you fucking want?”

No. I want you to fight for me. I want you to tell me how much you love me. I want you to tell me we can figure this out. I want you to tell me that I matter to you. I want you to tell me that I’m not just some fan you had a good time with. I want you to want everyone to know you love me. I want you to be proud of me.

“Yeah,” I heard myself say. “It’s what I fucking want. ’m sick of being some slag assistant shagging her boss.”

I turned and stumbled away, forcing myself to keep looking ahead; a glance of Roy would have me losing my resolve. As I made my way to the exit, a hand landed on my shoulder.

“Alright there?” Concern covered Jamie’s face.

Tears threatened to fall as I nodded. “Yeah. No. Jamie, could you get Keeley for me?”

“’course.”

It was the longest minute of my life before Keeley hurried to me, her pitiful expression similar to Jamie’s. “What’s wrong, love? Jamie said you looked completely freaked out.”

I shook my head. “I… I need to go. Can you come home with me?”

A smirk played on her face. “Don’t let Roy hear you say that, he might get jeal-” Her eyes widened when the first tear finally fell down my cheek. “Oh. Oh shit. Okay, hold on.” She disappeared and reappeared with Jamie in tow. “Stay with her,” she hissed before turning back to me. “I’ll get a car. Be right back, babes.” She hustled off towards the exit.

Jamie turned to me, placing his hands on my arms. “You alright?” he repeated. When I didn’t answer, he sighed. “Is it Roy?”

More tears fell at the sound of his name. “I think we just broke up,” I whimpered.

“Oh fuck. Shit.” Jamie pulled me in close for a hug. “You’ll be alright,” he assured me, speaking directly into my ear. “I know you’ll be alright.” He held me like that until Keeley returned.

After Jamie released me, Keeley took my hand and led me outside, where a taxi waited for us. She loaded me in, gave the driver my address, then turned her attention to me.

“You ready to tell me what happened?” she asked as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Something with Roy?”

I took a deep, shaky breath. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

She shook her head. “Babes, I could never be mad at you.”

“Roy and I have been dating,” I admitted, burying my head in my hands. “For months. The only people that knew were my folks and his sister and Phoebe. Oh, and Jamie. He walked in on me in Roy’s kitchen while I was wearing nothing but one of Roy’s old kits.”

“Hot,” Keeley noted, trying to make me laugh.

Despite the aching in my chest, I snorted and lifted my head. Almost immediately, the pain came back to me. “Keeley, I fucking loved him. Roy. And I think I just fucked things up beyond repair. And I don’t even know if I’d want to fix them if I could.”

“How d’you mean?”

I sighed. “Roy had asked me about keeping things a secret when we started dating. And I didn’t really mind. Kind of agreed with him, actually. Didn’t want shit from everyone. And honestly, I liked him so much, I would’ve done just about anything he asked anyway. But things just got fucking hard and then Brittany fucking Brett told me all about how I’m just into Roy because he’s Roy fucking Kent and that I’m basically a placeholder til they get back together.”

“Fucking cow,” Keeley hissed.

I continued, “And when I told Roy I was ready to tell people, he freaked out a bit. Made me realize that maybe there’s some truth to all the shit Brittany Brett was telling me. That I was just another one of Roy Kent’s girls. I just happened to last longer than most.”

“Oh, no love,” Keeley murmured, stroking my hair. “No, no. I don’t know anything about your relationship, but I’ve seen the way that man looks at you. You’re not a placeholder. You’re special to him.”

I shook my head, sobs in my chest. “Then why have I been just a secret all this time?”

Of course, Keeley couldn’t answer that. What she could do, however, was hold me while I cried in the back of the car. What she could do was walk me up to my flat and grab me some pyjamas to change into. What she could do was crawl into bed with me and hold me until I cried myself to sleep. And for the now, that would have to do.

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @sonyume @djarindroid @reading-blogs @thezimi @benedictscanvasmain @wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff @puckyou-forpuckssake @old-enough-to-know-better73 @ladygrey03 @soundofboots @justsomefunshit @geekgirl1996 @tedssweaters @queen-of-dumbasses @miaalltheway @di-essere-amato @shakespeareanwannabe @mal-adaptive-dreams @allthetroubleiveseen @netflix-addict

#Roy Kent Superstar #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

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hopefulromances · 1 year ago

Note

16; Jamie Tartt

16 - Still by Noah Kahan

"The past coming back with the light in the morning Look down on myself like a patient in surgery And I used to watch my mother move Like God was in the room It's a bottomless hole I found out here with a trace of no-one Grab a past box of photos, I rip myself open I'm in bed and I'm wondering If I'm callous but hoping Can I fix what is broken?"

Okay soooo reader isn't in this but she is mentioned and I actually might expand on this if people are interested enough

Read her uses she/her pronounds

.....

Jamie had never been more fucked in his life. Of all the stupid things that stupid people had done, none of them compared to the way that Jamie had completely and totally fucked his life. He couldn't handle it anymore; the constant texts and calls, the yelling in the car, the constant harassment from his father at all times. It was driving him mental.

But he didn't think the reality show would be so bad. Coming out the other end, no one wanted him. Not Spain, not Germany, not even fucking America wanted Jamie Tartt, former shining star of the Premiere League, was completely unwanted.

There were two things Jamie wanted in this moment.

One was his mum. He hadn't spoken to her in quite some time, finding it unspeakably hard to face her after what he'd become. She still texted him every week before a game, reminding him that she'd be watching, and Jamie wanted to answer but every time he tried to type out a message, he couldn't get himself to hit send.

But, god, he would kill for her to cuddle him right now. Like he used to when he'd come home muddy and crying after losing the neighborhood match to some older lads. She'd clean him up and tickle him silly before letting him cuddle into her side and soothe his hair.

If he closed his eyes, it was like she was still there with him.

The other thing, possibly more urgently, was you. You were Jamie's girlfriend for years. You were funny, and sweet, and kind, and everything Jamie needed to stay sane in the whirlwind he called his life. But Jamie was stupid and let you get away. He told her he didn't need her which was a fucking lie.

He could still remember the moment when he broke her heart, sending her leaving with tears in her eyes. What a fucking idiot. He missed her so much, she'd know what to do right now. She'd thump him on the head before telling him to get up off his ass and beg Ted to give him a spot on the team until he listened. Then again, if she were here he would never have left Richmond in the first place.

If he closed his eyes, it was like she was still there with him.

Instead he had to say goodbye to that life. To football, to friends, to his life. He didn't want to say goodbye. He couldn't say goodbye. Jamie steeled himself and pushed up off the bed. He wasn't going to say goodbye to you, to Ted, to anyone. He'd become someone worthy of his mum again. He'd look her in the eye once more.

And he'd get you back. He'd be worthy of you. He'd get down his knees and tell you how wrong he was and how he wanted you to know that he would do anything to make it up to you. You were never going to get away from him again.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #hopefulromances 1k celebration #spotify wrapped game

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wisteriagoesvroom · 5 months ago

Note

for the 5 sentence fic game - malex (Max/Alex), forgiveness? if it's not too out of ur depth :3

ok this was such a good prompt that i bust past 5 sentences and just kept going. so…here we go:

————

Forgiveness

a max/alex drabble, rated g

When Max meets Alex again, it’s a crisp autumn day — the kind where the leaves curl in on themselves, as if holding a secret. What secret, Max doesn’t know, but he has never really been in the habit of keeping many secrets.

The park is not where he expects to see Alex. But that’s the thing about parks. They’re a central nervous system for cities. City planners used to design with this in mind, before cars took over. Max remembers this fact from an encyclopaedia that he used to read, under blanket with a torchlight, when he still had the time to, during karting.

And now, Alex is in the park. Alex is older. Hair the same, if longer than it used to be in their F1 days. Face clean-shaven, but sharper in the cut of his jaw. Eyes, still creasing upwards when he sees a thing he likes.

As it turns out, Alex smiled a lot more when he left Red Bull. His smile practically a quantum force of its own when he finally won a GP.

And as it turns out, to his surprise, Max may be one of the things Alex also likes.

“Is that really you?” Alex exclaims, hands tucked in his pockets, wool scarf loose on his neck. Max feels somehow underdressed in his nondescript hoodie. Being a five time world champion, even over a decade later, meant people would stop you for photos.

“It’s me, mate.”

Alex makes a noise that seems like delight. They do the bro hug, and he animatedly explains that Lily is in Shanghai for a project involving augmented reality home golfing that is run through a mobile phone holoprojector. He rambles a little bit about weather — which for some reason the English still are obsessed with — and Alex asks whether Monaco has changed much (Max tells him it hasn’t).

“Are you heading up to Milton Keynes?” Alex says.

There is no loadedness behind the question. Max has only been back to Milton Keynes for Redline work since he retired.

One thing about Alex is that he was always carefully guarded when he needed to be. But Max never found him truly capable of ill intent.

“No,” Mad says. “I’m actually here because Pen has a thing about horses now. I have a break from touring stables and such.”

“Horses! Ah! There’s this great place down by Richmond, the owner’s an old classmate of mine. Let me pass it to you.”

Classic Alex. Always trying to help out, be nice, create a connection. So Max grabs his phone from his pocket, and lets Alex fuss around with it.

So the task is done, and there isn’t much to do now but move on. That is what Max has done well. Move on, in a way that he knows how, eking out a place for himself in Sim driver development and helping others learn the ropes. Much like Alex clearly has too, remaining as advisor to his last team.

Max finds himself reflecting on the younger men they were so long ago. Max was a lot more impulsive then. Quick to anger, a hunger inside him with so much to prove. But every person who did what they did always had the hunger. It just manifested in a lot of different ways.

And the interaction is nearing its end. But Max still can’t quite find a way to make his legs move. Around them, someone occasionally jogs past, and there are some ducks quacking happily at a nearby pond. It is peaceful.

Alex’s phone buzzes. He glances down at it, brows creasing in concern.

“Sorry, there’s some emergency at home involving my five year old and…” Alex squints at his phone. “A muffin tray of glitter. George is always far too lenient with his godson.”

Max smiles. “I heard about that. George, I mean. Not the glitter. I am not psychic.”

“That would explain your super-powered abilities, wouldn’t it?”

“Ha!” Max says, and he means it. “Anyway, I remember exactly how it is. That age.”

Alex smiles back knowingly.

The leaves rustle in the trees. The ducks are still quacking. The sun peeks out from behind a cloud, warming them both.

It is comfortable, in the way Alex always makes people feel, since the Williams years.

Max stops his leg from twitching.

“Listen, Alex. I never got a chance to say it before.”

“Say what?”

“That I…”

And Max finds himself pondering it. What does he mean? That he’s sorry? Sorry that a formula one team only truly ever has enough room for one person? That he should have asked how Alex was, like how he makes a point to do so now, with all his Redline youngsters? That he wishes he had called or texted him in the intervening years to see how he was, that he wishes they had stayed in touch? That he misses his old cars more than anything in the world, even if he’s happy with what he’s done and the way the puzzle pieces of his life have landed, and he always wonders if other drivers did too?

Max swallows a lump in his throat that he didn’t know was there. In the end, he says exactly what is on his mind.

“I’m really glad that you seem well.”

If that’s not the answer Alex was expecting, he doesn’t show it. He always seems borderline spiritual these days. As if he’s discovered a secret and invites you to understand it. A little bit like a monk, but one who definitely drives over the speed limit. (Max saw that video: a special karting one Alex did for family content, and he still carves a magnificent line.)

The monk in question smiles. It’s warm, like the sun. How lucky for those who grow close enough to Alex, to feel it.

And in that sage, still boyish way of his— surrounded by ducks, subjected to the inclement weather, in the artery of the place where worlds meet — Alex tells Max, back:

“I’m glad for us, too.”

————

from prompt thing here except i will actually try to stick to 5 sentences for the next one(s)

#malex #max verstappen x alex albon #wiz.writing #f1 rpf #first thing I’ve written in over a month!!! thank you anon.#drabble #wiz.askbox #wiz.promptfill #also #first time I’ve written these two and it’s fun <3 #future fics as a vehicle for reminiscence have been on my mind lately #so thanks for gifting me an opportunity to let it out a little

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guide-to-hand-car-wash · 1 month ago

Text

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fairsexynasty · 2 years ago

Text

—DIFFICULT THINGS

jamie tartt x lasso!reader

ONE. TOWNIE

summary: lucy moves to richmond with a memory that doesn’t quite forget what her dad did to her. however, ted is as happy as a goldfish.

warnings: cursing, unlikeable female protagonist, father issues, abandonment issues, resentment

a/n: welcome to this very new series i WILL finish. my love for this show has overtaken my time and i am very excited to be writing this. this chapter is set during “two aces.”

——————

Leonard Cohen once said, “There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.” But my world has been infused with the darkest of shadows. Everywhere I search is covered by a dark spot. It seeps into my life from my dreams, nightmares, and memories. I don’t think I was delivered by the hand of God, nor will I be expecting any blessing in the near future. It’s the hope that kills you.

I had that epiphany when I turned seven. No one had ever seen a child so jaded, so self-aware. When I learned that the father I wished for wasn’t that interested in fully being in my life, I accepted it entirely, for what it was worth. He’s popped in and out, coming in as quickly as he leaves, only sticking around for moments he deemed essential to me.

And the worse part is that he’s a good man—a good man with a daughter who felt evil.

I used to wish something terrible would happen to me. A broken collarbone. A car accident. Cancer. If something like that happened to me, I thought he’d return and stay for good.

But those things never happened. I’ve never broken any bones. I’ve never crashed my car into a tree. I’m perfectly healthy. And after all this time, Dad has moved on.

I have a half-brother. Thirteen or fourteen years my junior, it’s disgusting how I’m not too sure about the gap. I’ve never met him, nor do I want to meet him. I envy a child who cannot understand the weight of the word ‘father’ because he’ll always take it for granted.

When I crawl through my memories, I can see Dad crystal clear. He showed up to every one of my birthdays until age sixteen. That’s probably because my brother was old enough to ask and understand why Dad was leaving him. Dad came to my first dance, a father-daughter dance. It was one of the nights I honestly felt pretty. He and I danced the night away, stuffing our faces with candy and desserts and drinking our weight’s worth of soda pop. Dad taught me how to ride a bike. Although it ended with scraping my knees, he helped me up, cleaned my knees, and kissed each one. Dad drove me to my first day of high school. The morning went by quickly, but I can still remember the smile on his face as I waved goodbye to him and walked through the school doors.

I want to be thankful for what I’ve gotten from my dad. But he could have done so much more. Am I not worth the effort?

And it hurts to hate my mother as much as I do.

She could clean up her act for Dad, but once he was on his way home, she’d finally ease into consciousness. We would fight. She’d accuse me of not appreciating her. She’d belittle me and never congratulated me on my accomplishments. She’s manipulative. Controlling. Narcissistic. Evil. I know I’m no good, either. But women like that love confrontation. And she got the best of me every single time.

But I’m a grown woman now. I’m twenty. I have a life. A freedom I’ve never known. I’m trying to be honest, to prove I am everything Mom never thought I’d be. I’m trying to make Dad proud of me. Because everyone else is sure as hell proud of him, he’s Ted Lasso: a simple man with a simple plan who was pulled to spread his kindness in Richmond, England, by coaching their god-awful team. I watched the news with a frown as soon as they announced his new endeavor. If he got a new beginning, why can’t I?

And that’s why I decided to pack up my things and move to England.

I’ve been here before. My mother and I moved around due to her line of work. Whether it was Shanghai, Princeton, Kuala Lumpur, or Rome, I could never call those places home. I feel like Richmond is going to be different. I’m not hopeful. Just curious.

——

The park seems comforting. There appears to be a rhythm that compliments the people. Kids playing soccer, and shops opening for the day.

I sit and watch the world awaken. People pass me by as I sit on the bench, not one of them stopping their routine for me, except one.

lHis greetings were met with responses of “Wanker,” a word I found oddly endearing. He continued down the park trail, saying ‘good morning’ to me mindlessly.

I replied with a deadpan “Wanker,” which surprised him, given my American accent. He turned back, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Oh, my lordy-lord,” he muttered, smiling as he said my name, “Lucy.” He looks at me as if I’m a fucking unicorn. His eyes soften, and the smile that always reaches his eyes is suddenly on his face. “ Lucy !” he breathes out as if he’s too scared to say it louder like I’ll run away and leave.

“Hi, Dad.” He pulls me from my seat on the bench and envelops me into the biggest bear hug I’ve ever gotten from him. And those hugs are grizzly and unrelenting.

He lifts me off my feet and holds my head to his shoulder. “Oh, how I love you, Lucy girl. I can’t believe it!”

I groan, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Dad, please put me down. I'm not as tiny as Henry is," I say with a laugh. He puts me down with a smile, but there’s a flash of a solemn look on his face. I guess my mention of Henry has filled him with some semblance of guilt. I can’t tell if that satisfies me or not. "I think you're wondering why I'm here," I say, the false smile still on my face. "And the only reason is because I wanted to see you, Dad. I missed you," I add, trying to perfect the role of the doting daughter, even though it doesn't come naturally.

“Oh, I missed you too, Pumpkin. I’m glad you’re here.” He spots my luggage standing against the bench. “Looks like you’re gonna be visiting for a while, huh?”

I nod slowly, my gaze briefly shifting away. "Yeah, I am. Needed a change of scenery for a while," I admit, hoping he won't probe further into my true reasons for being here.

Dad nods, but I spot him scanning my face for any information I won’t outwardly tell him. Perhaps it’s a parently instinct, or maybe it’s just a Ted Lasso thing. The smile on my face doesn’t falter.

“So, how’s your mom?”

The question hangs in the air, and I can sense the curiosity in his eyes. I clench my jaw and roll my eyes in annoyance. "I really don't want to talk about her right now," I say firmly, hoping to steer the conversation away from a topic I'd rather avoid.

Dad gives me one of those fatherly smiles, understanding my need for privacy but also indicating he'll inquire about it later. "Alright then. How about we get you settled into my place? Don't care if you've found one already. I got you here with me, and you're not going anywhere, missy. I hope that's alright with you," he adds, his face hopeful as he waits for my response.

I acquiesce to his requests. It’s the least I can do. “Sure, Dad. I’d love to.”

He cheers with a fist pump, then wrangles me into yet another bear hug before I tell him he’s crushing my ribs, and he dramatically lets me go with a pout on his face.

I follow him down the streets to his apartment door. We enter, and it’s pretty lovely, yet it feels so hollow. There’s an opened jar of peanut butter on the island. I can tell he radiates joy as we unpack my things into an extra bedroom. I wonder how lonely he’s been without his son and wife.

Yeah. This is the least I can do.

——

After unpacking and settling in, Dad practically begs me to come to Nelson Road with him, and since I’m already feeling a bit guilty, I come along with him.

Upon entering, some guy with a full beard and eyebrows that make him look perpetually constipated looks at me. Well, it’s more of a glare. He walks up to Dad and me, not once taking his eyes off me. I narrow my eyes in response, shooting him a cold glare of my own. “Who the fuck is this? Don’t tell me Rebecca hired another fucking American.” His voice is deep and rumbling and full of snark.

"Seriously, do all British guys walk around with a stick up their ass?" I quip, but my remark falls on deaf ears. I catch the man clenching his jaw at my question. Ah, it seems he doesn't take kindly to being disrespected. One jab at his masculinity, and he's ready to go to war without a second thought.

"Roy Kent, meet my daughter, Lucille," Dad introduces, but I quickly interject, "Lucy to you." I emphasize my preference, not one to stand on formality. "Who the fuck are you, Roy Kent?" I ask, gauging his reaction as he looks between me and my dad, clearly trying to figure something out. I decide to clear the air, "Yeah, my mom isn't Michelle," I clarify, hoping to put any confusion to rest.

Roy's response is a simple "Oh," followed by a grunt as he exits the scene. My dad remains unfazed and carries on, guiding me towards the locker room with his arm casually draped around my shoulder.

"Coach Beard! We've got a new cast member!" Dad announces to the room as we walk out together, seemingly excited to introduce me to his colleagues.

A man with a book and a golf hat turns his chair around and observes us. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the fussbudget,” he says. “Hello, Lucy. I’m Coach Beard. I’ve heard all about you.”

I can't help but snort at the situation. "That's impossible," I retort with a snarky tone. Coach Beard finds my reaction amusing, letting out a chuckle, while my dad gives a slight frown, but I know a few jabs won't easily rattle him.

Suddenly, a strong voice breaks the chatter, announcing, "Ayo, the gaffer's got another kid!" The rest of the men turn their attention to me, their eyes filled with wonder and intrigue. They excitedly chat, asking if they saw what they think they did.

Exiting the office, we step into the open room where my dad proudly introduces me to the team. "Fellas, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter. This is Lucy, everyone."

The players greet me with waves and hellos, except for one guy sitting on the bench, engrossed in his phone, occasionally laughing. I point him out, asking, "Who's that?"

"Jamie Tartt. Hey, Beard, what's the deal with Jamie?" my dad inquires, and seemingly out of nowhere, Jamie appears beside us without making a sound.

Beard responds, "Says he can't practice today. Says he's hurt."

I observe my dad's face dropping with disappointment as he turns to walk out the door and over to Jamie, concern etched across his features.

The whole situation was intense, and I couldn't recall ever seeing my father this angry before. It seemed like there had never been an opportunity for him to get this worked up until now. Watching him unleash his frustration on Jamie reminded me of my mom, who had her share of heated moments. While my dad appeared to be justified in his outburst, Jamie's disrespectful behavior only reinforced my 'British men suck shit' theory.

Feeling overwhelmed, a tingling sensation crept into my head, and my heart raced with the familiar signs of an impending panic attack. I needed to escape, so I swiftly turned on my heel and walked out of the office, trying to distract myself by fiddling with the rings on my fingers.

Wandering aimlessly down the halls, I searched for a private space to catch my breath and calm down. Passing a laughing man, a short guy carrying a laundry bag, and a stunning blonde woman who seemed out of place here, I stopped in my tracks when I heard my dad's name mentioned in a hushed conversation.

"Rebecca, I don't think Coach Lasso will be too thrilled about you trading Jamie away.”

“Higgins, listen to me. I don't care if Lasso is trying to get through to Jamie or if he begs him to come back. Jamie is not returning, and that's precisely what I need," she asserts before abruptly changing the subject, "Now, let me go hunt down my biscuits. They're late."

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Dad is being sabotaged. All this time, I believed he was here to make a positive impact on the team, but it turns out they see him as nothing more than a joke. Stepping away from the door, I attempt to make a quick exit, only to collide with a statuesque woman who towers over me.

She glances down at me, exuding power through her stature and fashion, but I'm not intimidated. "Why, hello there, whoever you are. Are you lost?" she inquires.

Ah, this must be Rebecca. The woman who plans to screw my father over. I can't help but roll my eyes at her. "No. Just looking for the bathroom," I retort.

Rebecca gestures towards the sign, displaying her passive-aggressiveness. "Well, it's just around the corner. Right where the 'bathroom' sign is," she points out.

"Cool," I respond nonchalantly, not letting her faze me. "Oh, and by the way, my name's Lucy. Thanks for hiring my dad to coach!"

I catch a flicker of terror in Rebecca's eyes before I walk away, grinning to myself. Drama seems to follow me wherever I go, even in Richmond. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

——

After my quick trip to the loo, I wander over to the dog track, where Dad and Beard stand, closely observing the team's training session. I can't help but chuckle at Jamie's predicament as he wears a penny and sets up cones.

Dad notices my arrival and playfully calls out, "Oh, there you are, Waldo! What were you doing?"

His attempts at humor fail to catch me off guard. While I understand his references, I refuse to engage in the corniness. "Nothing, just using the bathroom," I reply with a mischievous grin, not willing to spill the beans about Rebecca's scheming ways. "Oh, and I met Rebecca. She seems nice," I lie sarcastically, well aware of her conniving nature.

Before Dad can respond, a rather handsome player approaches us gracefully. "Hello there. Sorry, Coach Lasso, but I couldn't continue practice without introducing myself to our guest," he says with a charming smile. "My name is Sam Obisanya. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lucy. The other players and I were wondering if you'd care to join us on the field for a few minutes. We'd like to have some fun at Jamie's expense. Is that alright?"

I return Sam's smile and reply, "Uh, sure. But I haven't played in years, dude. Not sure I'll be any good among you professionals.”

Sam brushes off my concerns, reassuring me, "Oh, that's alright, Lucy. I'm sure Thierry will let you score a couple of goals. Come on!" With that, he guides me towards the field, announcing to the team, "She said yes, you guys!" Their enthusiastic cheers fill the air.

As we assemble for a quick game, a guy with a buzzed fade named Isaac addresses me, confirming my name, "Alright, Lucy, is it?" I nod, and he explains the teams, "We're gonna split into five and five, and you're gonna play with the lads who ain't got a kit on."

"Sounds good," I respond with enthusiasm. I turn to the guys without kits, and each extends a hand for a handshake. I go down the line, shaking hands with each one. There's a short man with curly hair, Bumbercatch, followed by a tall fellow with a broad smile, Jan Maas. Then, a highly energetic man named Dani Rojas greets me, not wasting any time to exclaim, "Football is life!" right in front of me. The last guy, a mousey brunette named Colin, completes the line-up.

Quickly getting into formation with my newfound teammates, they place me front and center for the play. I'm facing off with Sam, who gives me a friendly smile. At the sound of the whistle, we both dash for the ball, but I swiftly take control and dribble it down the field. Roy Kent charges towards me, determined to tackle the ball away, but I outmaneuver him with a quick juke, causing him to land on his ass. The guys react with astonishment, and suddenly, the game shifts from Sam's gentle start to full intensity.

Isaac rushes towards me, sporting a determined expression, but I pass the ball to Dani Rojas, who's open and ready. Dani drives it down the field, but as soon as he spots an opportunity, he passes it back to me. With precision, I shoot the ball into the goal, leaving the goalkeeper stunned as it whizzes past him.

The entire team stands in complete silence, including my dad and Coach Beard, who are both staring at me with their mouths agape. The momentary hush is broken by Jamie Tartt, who teasingly remarks, "Ay, wanker's kid just got you real good, lads." He winks at me, provoking a gag from me followed by a flip-off.

Isaac can't contain his excitement, exclaiming, "Shit, bruv! You just broke Roy Kent's ankles!"

Roy growls behind me, clearly not pleased with being outplayed. "You got fucking lucky, kid," he grumbles.

I don't back down, confidently replying, "Luck's got nothing to do with it. Either you're cursed or you just ate shit, Kent."

I have to admit, Richmond has exceeded my expectations thus far, but I won't let it get the best of me just yet.

#fairsexynasty #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x ofc #ted lasso fanfiction

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wyn-n-tonic · 5 months ago

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"Philly's a rude city, the people are so rude and mean and hateful and violent." Okay so why do I feel safe walking down the street and wearing noise canceling headphones? Why was I walking around Center City one day and I thought I looked haggard as fuck but this woman on the street shouted that she loved my dress so I shouted back "OLD NAVY!" When I lived in Southwest Philly, I had an older neighbor who sat on his porch all day long and he didn't go inside until he knew all his neighbors were home safe. One time, he didn't see my car but he saw lights on in my house so he knocked on the door to make sure I was okay. I also used to walk around the neighborhood a lot and he was like, "Hey, I'm worried about you doing this all alone and I have a dog that I can't really walk anymore because I'm old. Would you be interested in taking her out with you so she gets some exercise and you get to stay safe because you have a big scary dog?" YES. When I moved to a different neighborhood, we had a snowstorm the night I moved in. I went outside to clean my car the next morning and it had already been done and there was a note on my car that said, "Welcome to the hood, may Allah be with you."

Does your city have Elmo leading a drum line while a junk yard burns in Port Richmond? Does your city have Batman show up to protect protestors? Does your city have Gritty? No and that sucks for you but it's not our fault we're so popular. Fuck you, Go Birds.

#i've been here for almost five years now #i pay out the nose in taxes #i work in social services for these people #i adore Philly with all my heart #like yeah we're a little fucked up and we can't drive for shit and we flip cars when we WIN THINGS but also we're the center of the univers #so...#shut up

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writingsbytee · 2 months ago

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HIDDEN PT. 2

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: SFW; minors do not interact; mentions of domestic violence; self-hate; angst; Terry is hard to read in the beginning.

SUMMARY: You’ve been working at Terry’s club for about a week now and you’re finally getting the hang of things. There might be a little jealous Terry in here if you squint. This “chapter” might be dialogue heavy. No Smut (yet!)

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn;

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Okaaay!! Part 2 is now available!! I hope you guys enjoy it. I’m really trying to work on my dialogue skills and some world building so bare with me. The SMUT will come soon, I just want you guys to get to know my version of Terry and Daphne.

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

PREVIOUSLY ON HIDDEN: 1

DAPHNE

“Girl! I see why you never left this job! The tips alone are enough to cover rent this month,” I said looking at the wad I already had in my mini apron.

Lexi nodded, “See, what did I say? You won’t have to go back to the hospital for a while.” I contemplated the idea, sure the break from the physically, mentally, and emotionally draining job is nice. But, helping people, caring for them, that’s my passion. I’ll go back when I’m ready. As I wait for Lexi to make the next round of drinks for the police commissioner’s table, I turn and take in my surroundings.

The club is so unique. With a sunken lounge area and the circular light fixtures it almost has a 60s vibe. But with the seductive lighting and R&B playing it feels like a jazz club. Lexi slides the finished tray of drinks my way and I head towards the commissioner’s table.

“Our favorite girl is back!” one of them shouted. They were all very close to being drunk, the drinks in my hand should do the job.

“That’s me!” I said with my million dollar smile. I could already tell what kind of men I was dealing with, pretty boys who never heard the word ‘no’. I place all their drinks down and ask them if there’s anything else I can get them.

“Aww c’mon leaving so soon? Stay and chat with us for a little while,” one of the men said. I huffed out a fake laugh, “I wish, but I’ve got to finish up my training”. They all boo’d in protest, but I just shrugged my shoulders and backed away. Breathing a sigh of relief I make my way back towards Lexi.

“Ouu girl, they like you,” she said laughing at me,

I rolled my eyes, “I don’t wanna hear shit when the car is gassed up and the fridge is full. If they keep tipping me like this they can like me all they want,” i said cleaning off the counter. The lights started to dim as someone walked on stage. Out of my periferie I see Terry’s office door open.

“Oop there go your man,” Lexi whispers in my direction. I huff out an annoyed breath, “Stop calling him that! What if someone hears you!” I whisper-shout, throwing my rag at her. Okay, so I might've developed a teeny-tiny crush on Terry. I don’t know how anyone can look at that man and not get swept up in his beauty. I keep it professional obviously, and it’s not even like he notices. Terry’s barely said two words to me since I started here. I sneak a peek at Terry over my shoulder and I feel my canine sink into my lower lip as I take in his attire.

Dressed in a simple black long sleeve and matching black cargos and timberland boots. With the gold mini cuban link chain and glasses to top the look off, he’s any woman’s wet dream.

“Damn, Daphne could you be any more obvious?” Lexi asked, laughing at me.

“Oh, shut up! Look at him, he’s too fine for his own good” I whisper, turning back toward my sister. I feel like a high school girl with a crush. I need to get a grip, fast. I grabbed the ice bucket, heading to the back to fill it up. I need to put some distance between myself and the green-eyed giant. I’ve only been working here about a week and I feel like I’m finally getting a hang of things. I bring the ice out and make my way over to my side of the bar.

Eli, the police commissioner’s son, has become one of my regulars. After his dad leaves Eli usually stays to hit on whoever is within earshot. Tonight it looks like that’s me, “There she is!” he shouted, eyes low in his liquor induced haze.

“Someone needs to get cut off I see,” I say, chuckling at Eli’s dopey grin. He groans, “Aww c’mon baaaby. Don’t b-be like that.” Eli reaches for my hand to grab my attention. Before he could open his mouth, the deep, sexy voice of my boss cuts him off.

“Eli quit harassing my staff before I cut you off,” Terry says, sliding into the seat next to Eli.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it T-man! It’s allllll good,” Eli said, his words starting to blend together.

“Annnd, you’re cut off. Eli give me your phone so I can get you an Uber,”I say, making grabby hands at Eli. He smirks peering over at Terry who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “See, told you she wanted me,” he said, nudging his elbow into Terry’s ribs. I roll my eyes not wanting to satisfy him with a response. Eli’s cute, don't get me wrong, but I’m just not interested.

“Actually someone’s coming to relieve you Daphne, I need you in the back,” Terry says leaning up on the counter. My eyes widened as I looked over at Terry. He just smirks and nods his head toward the door marked ‘employees only’. I nod before wiping my hands off on my pants and head towards that door. I glance over my shoulder to see Terry whisper something in Eli’s ear before he makes his way toward me.

“Ready for your first assignment?” Terry asks as he makes his way to me.

A dry chuckle leaves my mouth, “Will it be worse than that?” I ask, pointing my thumb in Eli’s direction.

Terry’s shoulders shake with quiet laughter, “I hope not, here, c’mon they’re right through here”

I knew Terry was serious about using my medical side to help him out, I just didn’t think it’d be so soon. My mind blanks as I try to shift my focus to that of a 3 year trauma/ICU nurse. Not knowing what I’m walking into I take off my rings and bracelets as we enter the door. Terry leads me down what appears to be basement stairs and then leads me to another door. Before we go in he turns to me standing shoulder-width apart with his hands crossed in his front (REFERENCE).

s it just me or did it get ten degrees hotter in here?

“This kind of goes without saying but, you don’t say anything about what goes on behind this door,” Terry said.

With a nod of my head I say, “Of course not, now let’s see what I’ve gotten myself into yea?”

TERRY

“Gunshot wounds!? Terry, what do you expect me to do with this?!” Daphne asked, examining the semi-conscious man laying on the table. I watched carefully as she threw her locs up in a messy bun and went to work on her “patient”.

“They’re just flesh wounds, mostly just need patching up. You can do that right sweetheart?” I ask leaning back against the door. She rolls her eyes and mumbles out a ‘yeah’. That eye rolling shit is really starting to get on my nerves with how much it turns me on.

“What kind of supplies do you have?” She asks looking over at me.

I move to a storage closet on my right and open the door for her, “In here is everything you should need.” I grab a cart containing multiple drawers with the supplies she might need (reference). Once I wheel it over to her she pauses and looks at the cart then me.

“This is a hospital grade crash cart,” Daphne said, raising a brow at me. Damn, she’s pretty when she does that too.

I nod slowly, “Yes, yes it is. I figured how can I ask you to do a job without the proper equipment.”

She lets out a disbelieving chuckle, “How’d you get all this? And can you get it restocked when I’m done with him?”

“Well I can’t really tell you how I got everything, let’s just say everything has its price. I’ll have it restocked before you have to do this again”, I say.

Daphne just nods and takes a deep breath before heading to the sink, “Well, I’m going to need an extra hand in here. Do you have time or can you send someone else in here?”

“I’ll stay,” I reply with a shrug. She flashes me a small smile before instructing me to wash my hands in the sink. Once I finish I saddle up beside her and wait for instructions. Daphne hands me a pair of gloves instructing me to put them on.

“Do you have any medical training?”Daphne asks as she puts a stethoscope to Paul’s (gunshot victim) chest.

“Basic CPR and some shit I had to do in the field,” I say checking Paul’s heart rate

“What branch?”

“Who said I was military?” I ask, smirking at her.

“Terry, be serious, look at how you stand, how you always sit facing the door, and how you talk. Let’s just say it wasn’t that hard for me to tell. Hand me that syringe that says ‘Morphine’ please,” she smiled at me sweetly, pointing at the aforementioned syringe.

I feel my smirk widen against my will, “You’ve been watching me?” I ask, passing her the syringe.

She rolls her eyes yet again, “Oh don’t flatter yourself. I spent over a decade in healthcare. 25% of those people are from military backgrounds.”

“So who was it? Mom or Dad?” I ask, holding pressure on Paul’s wound while she places an IV.

“Huh?”, she asks, not looking up from her task. I can admire the way her nose scrunches and she bites her lip as she works through her task.

“Who was in the military? Your mom or your Dad?” I ask again.

Daph lets out a small giggle, “What gave it away?”

I clear my throat and her eyes meet mine. I move my index finger back and forth pointing at me then her, “Same recognizes same, sweetheart.” She huffs out another small laugh before focusing back in. I’m thinking of one thing and one thing only as we work in comfortable silence, patching Paul up. I need to make her laugh again.

“My mom, she was in the Navy. She was the best,”I say reaching for my locket that had her picture in it.

Terry nods before looking at me, “I’m sure she was sweetheart. I’m sorry you lost her so soon”. He’s got the prettiest eyes. They’re so expressive I feel like he’s saying more to me with just a look than he ever could with words.

2.5 HOURS LATER

DAPHNE

When Terry and I exit the basement his club is empty. “That was good work in there Daph,” Terry said, eyeing me appreciatively.

“Well it was a simple plug and patch like you said, you probably could’ve done it,” I say, rubbing my hand against the back of my neck.

Terry takes a step toward me, “You sore?”

“Yeah a tiny bit, it’s been a while since I had to do that. I’ll be fine,” I say, straightening my spine and shifting my hips from side to side.

“Here let me,” Terry moved behind me, placing his hands at the base of my neck. My spine straightened like a stick was shoved straight up my ass. He starts to knead the stiff muscles in my neck and I feel my shoulders start to slump. He continues to knead and massage the back of my neck. I don’t even notice that I’m leaning back against him.

“Mmm that feels nice,” I say, leaning my hand to the side. He’s so close I can feel his exhale against my neck, I know he can see the goosebumps.

“Yeah?” he says. I don’t know if I’m imagining it or not but it feels like his lips brush my neck. Before I can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door. I can feel Terry tense up behind me, like somebody poured a bucket of ice water down his back.

“Go to the back, get your stuff, and leave,” Terry said, taking a step back from me like I burned him. My mind was reeling, I just silently nodded and turned to make my way back to the locker room. Who was at the door that made him shift his whole persona? I’m putting all my shit in my tote back when I hear my phone ring from somewhere inside it. Once I find it I tap the green button putting the phone up to my ear.

“Hey Lex, I’m about to leave now,” I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“Perfect, I got a ride from Princess. I put my keys in your coat pocket so you wouldn’t have to Uber by yourself this late,” my oh so considerate sister says.

“You’re too good to me. Dinner on me tomorrow, “ I say, finding the keys she mentioned. Lexi and I yap for a few minutes before we say our goodbyes. Leaving the locker room I bump right into Terry.

“Oh! Sorry didn’t see you there,” I hate how awkward and strained my voice sounds. Terry’s eyes are unreadable as he looks through me.

“Time to go, I’ll walk you out,” he said then abruptly turned and started down the hallway.

“What the fuck?” I mumble to myself. I know we aren’t best friends or anything, but I thought that Terry and I were at least breaking down that wall ‘boss/ employee’ relationship between us. I thought we could at least have some sort of civility toward one another. I follow him out towards the main floor of the club and make my way towards the door. There’s a group of men sitting in the center of the club, they all look hella shady. I pick up my pace a little bit so I can get the hell out of there.

“Daphne?,” I hear as I walk past the table. I look up toward the voice and my blood runs cold. What the fuck is Rafa’s brother doing here?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, okay. I know this one is short but the next one will be longer I promise. I kind of just wanted to focus on a little bit of character building because this is going to be a series. Let me know what you guys think!

TAGLIST:

@blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @kianaleani @pinkkycherrish @shallipii @greatpandagladiator-blog @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @megamindsecretlair @melalsworld @nayaesworld @theereina @shallipii @mogul93 @onherereading @blyffe @earthchica @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @pocketsizedpanther @kumkaniudaku @mymindisneverhere @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @uzumaki-rebellion

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

#rebel ridge fanfiction #terry richmond #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x black oc #black fem reader #black FMC

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