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chenlesfavorite · 2 months ago

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You aren’t sure how you got dragged into playing truth or dare with these three but here you are! You are suspicious of how eager they seem to play truth or dare though... it’s a bit, weird but you decide to brush it off. Maybe they just really enjoy it.

"Alright, who wants to go first?" You ask, and for some reason, the three of them exchange glances with each other. You're not sure what they're planning, but it's making you curious.

“I think loverboy over here should go first... Renjun! I choose you!” Giselle mimics throwing a Pokeball and pointing at Renjun. “Truth or dare, loverboy?”

“I’m picking truth, your dares are just... on another level. Don’t wanna go through ‘em right now.” Renjun says, making his words clear as he leans into Ningning, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Hey! They’re not that bad, just creative! But fine,” She rolls her eyes, pretending to be offended. “Hmm... what’s the most embarrassing thing Ningning has ever caught you doing?” Giselle says, a playful-looking smirk on her face.

Renjun sighs, his face heating up as he remembers all the embarrassing moments Ningning caught him in. Ningning laughs while messing with Renjun's hair. "C'mon, which one do you think is the most embarrassing?" She asks, interested in the answer herself.

“Maybe when I was singing in my room, and I got into the song a bit too much I guess and I ended up serenading my pillow, pretending it was Ning. I was so into it that I didn’t even hear her knock on my door... so you can imagine how awkward it was when we just saw each other, staring at the other without saying a word.” Renjun replies, closing his eyes as he buries his face into the crook of Ningning’s neck, getting more embarrassed by the second.

“It was honestly kind of cute... and what makes it better is that he was singing a cheesy love song. Pretty sure it was I Love You 3000?” Ningning adds on, giggling.

“Ning... shush, don’t expose anything more.” Renjun raises his head, a pleading expression on his face as he looks at Ningning. “Fine, I won’t.” Ningning responds as she gives Renjun a little peck on the lips.

“If you two plan on kissing, erm, Renjun’s room is right there! Don’t do it in front of us.” Giselle says, attaching herself to your arm— cringed out by the two of them acting lovey-dovey. “Exactly what she said.” You reply.

“Giselle, truth or dare?” Ningning asks. “Oh— straight up asking me? Alright, Ning! Getting revenge for your boyfie, I see how it is. Anyway, obviously I’m picking dare, I’m not a wuss.” Giselle replies, flipping her hair dramatically. You back up a little as you don’t want her hair to hit your face.

“Okay, uhhh...” Ningning ponders for a few seconds before coming up with a dare. “Call Hendery and tell him that you’re into him, put it on speaker too.” Ningning says, staring at Giselle with a smile that looks devilish.

“H... Hendery out of all people?” Giselle straightens herself up, visibly surprised by the dare that Ningning gave her. “Do it, come on, I mean, you just said you weren’t a wuss, right?” Renjun says, teasing Giselle a bit.

“I’m doing it! I’m doing it!” Giselle takes her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her contact list. She finds Hendery’s phone number and starts a call, waiting for him to pick up. It doesn’t take long for Hendery to pick up. She presses the speaker button.

“What’s with the sudden call, Gigi?” Hendery’s voice sounds from the speaker, distant keyboard noises in the background.

“I’m sooo... into you and want you so bad… Haha...” She lets out an awkward chuckle as she says that sentence out loud. “Anyway um— bye, Dery! Talk to you later!” Giselle spends no time waiting for his reply, she just immediately hangs up the call and throws her phone away, shoving her face into a pillow.

"Okay, pause on truth or dare, Giselle, what was that about? It was so awkward!” You ask, looking at a very distressed Giselle. “I’m sorry! It’s hard to say that to somebody like Hendery and like… act like you mean it!”

A few more rounds of truth or dare go by and Renjun decides to check his phone, realizing that Chenle would go out to check his motorcycle 5 minutes from now.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Renjun asks you as he puts away his phone, giving a signaling glance to Ningning and Giselle. You scratch the side of your neck, thinking of what option to choose. “I don’t wanna be boring so, I’ll pick dare. Hit me.” You respond, putting on a confident act.

"That’s my girl.” Giselle says, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “Y/N, I dare you to try riding Chenle’s motorcycle. The keys to the motorcycle are under Chenle’s flowerpot in front of his apartment door.” And you feel your heart practically stop as you freeze up at his dare.

“You... you want me to do that?!” You exclaim, completely in disbelief of his dare. “Come on, do it Y/N! Besides, Chenle’s probably sleeping right now anyway, so he won’t hear his motorcycle getting taken away by you.” Giselle says, her voice practically booming in your ears.

You take a deep breath as you stand up, sliding your hands into your pockets. “Fine. I’ll do it.” These are the only words you say before you turn around and make your way to Renjun’s front door. “We’ll be watching, Y/N!” Ningning yells out as you exit Renjun’s apartment.

“I’m seriously going to murder all three of them.” You mutter to yourself as you make your way downstairs. The closer you get to Chenle’s apartment, the more nervous you feel... but then again, it is late after all so maybe he won’t be up...?

You reach his apartment and you stand in front of the door. Feeling a sharp pain in your heart. You feel your hand reaching out, forming into a fist, to knock on his door— but you quickly stop yourself. You don’t wish to disturb him nor do you want to see him right now, really. Not after him ignoring your existence.

You spot the flowerpot that Renjun was talking about. You crouch down and gently raise it and the key to the motorcycle is there. You pick it up and slide it into your pocket as you place the flowerpot carefully back down.

You get up and start going all the way down to the parking lot.

Once you’re at the parking lot, you look around, trying to spot Chenle’s motorcycle. You walk a bit further down the parking lot and that’s when you find his motorcycle. You inhale and exhale, placing your hand on your heart for a moment before you walk over to it.

You reach his motorcycle and you take out the key for it... but uh, you did not know where to place it. After all, you weren’t a biker nor did you have any knowledge on motorcycles. “How the hell am I gonna get this to work?” You rub the back of your head, pondering what to do.

You take out your phone and turn on the flashlight, sitting down on the seat of the bike. Using the light coming from the back of your phone to try and find where to place this key in so you can get the motorcycle to work. “Fuck you Renjun for giving me this stupid ass dare...” You mumble to yourself as you try shoving the key in all the holes that you can find.

“Y/N?” You hear a male voice.

You whip your head to where it’s coming from and there Chenle is, standing.

He’s wearing a black hoodie with writing on it, and the sleeves of the hoodie are rolled up, paired with a pair of black sweatpants— his hair flowing in the light breeze. Holy shit, he looked so handsome.

You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and your heartbeat pounding harder, and harder with every second. “I...” Your words get stuck in your throat as the two of you create direct eye contact.

Chenle spends no time running towards you, embracing you in his arms. Tightly hugging you as if you were going to be taken away from him. You feel completely defeated by him as you accept his hug.

God, you missed him so fucking much. His embrace was so warm, so comforting and you feel so safe in it. “I missed you so bad, angel.”

“Lele... I missed you too.” You say as you look up at him, a weak smile on your lips. Seeing him again got you in an emotional mood, you feel tears start to cloud your vision, so you lower your head, looking down at the concrete floor.

Chenle crouches down, getting to eye contact level with you. He cups your cheek with his hand, wiping away the tears that have started to roll down your cheeks. “Don’t cry, angel. I can’t bear to see it.” He whispers. “It hurts me to see you like this.” Chenle’s voice breaking ever so slightly.

You slide off the motorcycle, standing up— leaving your phone and the keys to the motorcycle on the seat of it. Chenle gets up as well, keeping silent as he knows you have a lot to say to him right now and he is ready to hear all of it.

“Lele why... why did you ignore me and pretend like I didn’t exist? Why?” You ask as you sniffle, your chest heavy and your heart beating as if it’s gonna jump out any second. “Jisung completely fucked my brain up. Like really badly, I’ve wanted to kiss you so bad for so long but then Jisung said what he did and… I started to... distance myself away from you, in hopes that my feelings for you would die down.” Chenle says with full honesty.

“I couldn’t make myself talk to you again or even face you, ‘cause I just—” You shut Chenle up by pressing your lips onto his, his eyes widening as he didn’t expect that right now but he does not deny your kiss, he’s very accepting of it.

The kiss is short but also filled with so many unspoken feelings. You pull away first. “You’re so stupid, Lele. You really are.“

“You know, at the race, that’s when I realized my feelings for you but I didn't want to accept them fully, Lele. I... fuck,“ You look down at the concrete, taking a deep breath.

“The moment you started to ignore me, I felt terrible. I was just so down, all the time.” You say, your lips trembling as you let everything out. Everything that you’ve wanted to say to him this past week.

“Lele. I love you. You give me a feeling I can’t even put into words... and, I didn’t want to fall in love with you, not at all, but, you gave me the right attention, a comfort I never knew I needed until I truly experienced it. I fell for you before I even realized I did.”

All your emotions came pouring out, you couldn’t hold them back anymore nor did you want to. You wanted him to know all the feelings you feel for him, how much you want him and love him.

“Y/N, I feel the same way about you. Falling in love with you was a complete mistake, but fuck, I do not regret falling for you even one bit. You are my entire world, Y/N. I wish you could’ve seen all the stupid smiles I had on my face whenever we texted each other, those stupid conversations meant more to me than you think. You stole my heart completely, Y/N. And I’m sorry, for everything. I really am. It was so stupid of me to ignore you.”

Hearing his words makes the love you feel for him even stronger. “Just shut up and kiss the hell out of me, please Lele.” You say, without any hesitation and no stuttering. Chenle doesn’t even say anything, he pulls you in by your waist till there’s no space left between the two of you and presses his lips onto yours.

This kiss is the one that the two of you have desired the longest, one filled with no other emotions than just pure love that the two of you feel for one another. Chenle’s fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your head more so he can deepen the kiss— it fogs your mind, with such an intoxicating and dizzy feeling.

A soft gasp escapes your lips, sending a shockwave through Chenle. You can feel his rapid heartbeat, mirroring your own. His lips move against yours with a passion that just took your breath away, a deep yearning that makes you drown in him.

When the two of you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest against each other, both of you breathless from the kiss, but you savor the taste of it. “Wanna head to mine?” Chenle asks as he starts tracing your jawline by leaving kisses on it. “Mh, would love to.” You reply, biting down on your bottom lip.

“No leaving in the morning this time though, angel.”

...

“You guys think it’s a mission accomplished?” Ningning asks, looking at Renjun and then at Giselle who are just as stunned by the sight of you and Chenle kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

“More than a mission accomplished... I don’t think she’s returning to Renjun’s place tonight.”

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NIGHT RIDER : chapter 43 — mission accomplished

back — masterlist — next

! author’s note : sooo… 😊 they’re happy again…!

✮⋆˙ taglist: @nanaxwi @neocrashed @404tytrack @connormurphynation @dudekiss3r @injunnie-lemon @chenlesfeetpic @neozon3nha @morkiee @doughyk @i03jae @haechology @foxy-kitsune @fullsunbabe @polarisjisung @beommii @soobiverse @onlyhyunjin @lostinneocity @yyangj3lly @junviadinho @miyawwn @marvelahsobx @starfilledgaze @nosungluv @gukuwii @bitchzitschimi @whoooootf @nneteyamss @theandypark @urslytherin @xcosmi @taroddori @winwintea @iamsimplyasimp @ckline35 @yutarot @sunghoonsgfreal @roseangelxfuma @thegracerammy @nctjunie @do-you-remember-summer-127 @cosmic-marauder @tanjanro @myouthles @nctrawberries @octubreuno @galacticpurpl3 @voikiraz @defzcl @silvsie @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @luluvhs

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wonwoosstuff · 10 months ago

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Mr Muscle | Seungcheol x fem.reader (smut 18+)

Synopsis: Seungcheol wants to flaunt his strength again but this time….. in bed.

Original ver of this drabble: https://www.tumblr.com/wonwoosstuff/737816735398428672/seungcheol-x-femreader-synopsis-your-boyfriend

A/N: Here’s the long awaited smut! I recommend you to read the link first since this is kind of an extension to the original.

Genre: smut 18+, mdni, mean dom scoups, protected sex (so so important!),manhandling, reader thirsting over her man, fingering, breast play, manhandling, reader is also a bit shy, oh and did I also mention manhandling?

This work is a piece of fiction! The characters are not related to any particular person in real life!

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"Deal. I'll save the strength for opening stubborn jars and protecting your heart.”

You giggled at his affectionate words.

Seungcheol checked you out slowly from head to toe and licked his lips right after.

“What’s with this reaction?” You asked crossing your arms over your chest. “Nothing, you’re just sexy as fuck.” He smirked at his answer.

“Woah Cheol, calm down.”

“Oh baby, how can I resist when you’re right in front of me looking so fine.” You blushed at his comment. Your boyfriend approached you and came dangerously close to your face just to seductively whisper these words into your ear:

“You know, I can show my strength in many different ways and sex is one of them.”

The direct eye contact and the sexual tension between you and Seungcheol made you really shy, so you quickly looked away while he took the chance to grab both of your wrists to lean your hands flat against his chest.

“Baby, listen to my heart pounding. It is just as excited as my friend down there.” He pointed at his dick which already was erected from the ongoing tension between the two of you.

You would be lying if you said that Seungcheol’s seduction hadn’t impacted your arousal in anyway.

In fact it affected you terribly.

Usually Cheol would lead the foreplay but this time you decided to kiss him first. Grabbing his jaw you connected his lips with yours gaining a shocked expression from your boyfriend. He automatically grabbed your waist turning the delicate kiss into a messy and greedy make out session.

Seungcheol kissing you always made you feel like heaven. His tongue was exploring your mouth resulting in you moaning into his mouth. After Seungcheol broke the kiss he grabbed your jaw harshly which made you tear up. However Cheol knew that you liked his rough attitude so he didn’t care about it at the moment.

“Already messed up, hm? Should I mess up that pussy of yours as well, slut?”

That was your last straw. Now you just had to beg him to fuck you.

“Mhm, Cheol- please.” You moaned while looking at him directly into his eyes. “What, baby?You need to speak in full sentences. I can’t understand you.” He exclaimed while undressing you. Now you were completely naked in front of Seungcheol.

“Fuck me until I can’t walk. Choke me, use me. Do everything to me until I can’t speak.” you responded almost whispering your words because you were kind of embarrassed.

The filthy words that just came out of your mouth made his dick twitch in his boxers. His reaction was super fast. Seungcheol picked you up in bridal style carrying you to your shared bedroom.

“I didn’t know you were such a dirty mouthed girl.” He said while throwing you on the king sized bed. You didn’t respond to his comment. Instead you approached your boyfriend on your fours tugging on his shirt.

“Cheolie, it’s your turn.” You cutely added while keeping the eye contact.

He raised one eyebrow— gosh how you hated that— putting a finger under your chin to raise it. “Okay princess. I will.”

Why did the smallest gestures make him look so attractive, you thought while he was undressing in front of you. You practically drooled over his buff build. It felt like you haven’t seen his naked body in years.

“Do you wanna take a picture, princess?” He smirked at you while walking to the night stand.

“No, I want you to fuck me right now.” You didn’t hesitate while saying that.

“Eager, aren’t we?�� Seungcheol added while putting a condom over his so called “friend”.

Ah right— his friend was a bit bigger than average and that made you gulp. A nervous feeling appeared on your face. Seungcheol noticed your expression and reacted accordingly.

“Are we alright?” He chuckled. “Cheol—“ now you hesitated for a moment.

“Yea, darling?”

“Will it fit?” And that was a genuine question.

“I’ll make it fit, don’t worry about it. I’ll also take that as a compliment.” He stated, his voice in a more relaxed and husky tone.

You slowly leaned onto your back while Seungcheol hovered over you. Your cheeks were already flushed red by the atmosphere and your boyfriend’s sexiness.

And as if he couldn’t make it worse he attacked your nipple hungrily sucking it literally off. You were quick to grab onto his black hair, arching your body against his.

“Cheol, oh my god. You’re so good to me.” You moaned while receiving a slap on the other breast.

“Hm, am I?” He asked after letting go of your nipple leaving his saliva and a red mark on it.

“Then tell me, princess—” Gosh his eyes were so intimidating and sexy, you thought not noticing that his fingers had made their way to your arousal. “— how can I make you feel—“ one finger was in, making your body arch for Seungcheol just to reach your high deeper. “—even better than this?”

“Ugh, deeper Cheol!” You almost screamed for pleasure. “Huh? What?” I can’t hear you, baby.”

“Please me with your dick, right now!”

You exclaimed being almost out of breath.

Seungcheol grabbed you by your waist to get near to your body. He gave you a quick peck on your lips followed by him stroking his dick. Of course, there was no warning, so he entered you shamelessly rough. Now his strength was displayed in his thrusting skills. Your boyfriend groaned between the thrusts.

“Why are you still tight, princess? I thought you’d be wet enough already.” Seungcheol smirked while putting your legs on his shoulders to get more access to your g-spot. His arms were steadily put next to your head.

“Oh— Cheol— too hard!” You barely could speak because of the pleasure he was giving to you. You naturally grabbed his veiny underarms to support yourself.

Seungcheol had an unrealistic stamina which turned you on even more but made it hard to keep up with him.

“Oh yeah, that’s right princess, just like that.” He groaned with his already deep tone of voice.

“You like it when I show off my strength, don’t you?” His thrusts becoming more slow and romantic.

You honestly passed out since his pace kept increasing. So you dizzily responded while looking at him blushing: “I do, baby.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“Your ‘fuck me more’ look. It makes me wanna ruin you even more but you’re already messed up.”

“But I d—“ all of the sudden his strong arms turned your body around. Now you were standing on all fours. Seungcheol made sure to keep your head in your pillow while your ass was up in the air.

“That’s how I like my girl more.” He said while slapping your ass cheek roughly. You twitched at his action wanting to rub the painful smack.

“Keep your hands to yourself or otherwise I’ll make you suffer, slut.”

“But Cheol” you couldn’t argue against your horny and stubborn man so you pouted into your pillow.

“No buts, stop arguing with me while I’m still being nice to you.” Your boyfriend definitely aimed for ruining you completely tonight and he wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.

Now his hands were exploring your upper body.

“Stop making me wait, honey. I want you.” You teased making his cock twitch for a second time.

“You keep on saying shameless stuff, you dirty girl.” He said while bringing your body up against his chest.

Oh how you loved this position. It was so intimate to both of you.

Seungcheol placed light kissed on your shoulders and nape making you not only arch your back against him but also lean your head back against his shoulder.

The princess treatment and dominance of your man was pure luxury and you couldn’t complain.

While his mouth was busy decorating your shoulder with red marks and love bites, his right hand found his way to your breast, massaging it gently. The left hand was torturing your swollen folds. Seungcheol showed no mercy and shoved two of his thick fingers into your pussy.

“Oh, you look like a goddess, hun.” He complimented you and honestly you could explode because of your boyfriend’s behavior.

“Right there, Cheol, deeper!” And quickly after that you reached your orgasm soaking your man’s fingers wet with your fluids. You weakly fell back into your pillow thinking that your pleasure time was over.

“Oh you taste lovely, princess.” Seungcheol licked his wet fingers entering you once again with his dick. This time a little bit gentler. You moaned at the thickness of his length.

“So you think we can just call it a day pleasuring you but not me? Where is the fun in that? Do you think that’s fair, baby?” You couldn’t answer your boyfriend since you were practically overwhelmed by his thickness.

His pace was increasing with every thrust making you drool into your pillow. Although you couldn’t see his face you could tell that he was enjoying himself. After the last rough thrust Seungcheol reached his orgasm as well and passed out onto the mattress next to you.

“Baby, you did great.” He proudly mumbled, too tired from using all of his energy for the sex. You hugged his waist sideways leaning your head on his chest.

“Let’s get us washed up.” He suggested.

“Mhm, five more minutes.” You lazily voiced while slowly closing your eye lids. Seungcheol pecked your eyelash responding with a chuckle:

“Cute.”

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This was my first ever written smut- help. Sorry for making you guys wait. Hope you enjoyed it!!hihi.

©️ wonwoosstuff do not copy or translate!

#svt x reader #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x y/n #choi seungcheol smut #scoups smut #wonwoosstuff

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rrenzwrld · 9 months ago

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secreto de amor XII

chapter 12! read chapter 11 here

you were excited about what happened with connie but you also felt guilty about it. you knew jean was overprotective over you with any guy but because his best friend would be involved, you didn’t know how different this would be. you didn’t know how to feel about the situation.

but one thing you were sure about was your feelings for connie. he brought some kind of spice in your life and everything with him felt natural, especially when you started to just embrace him as a person overall. maybe you were falling in love but you’ve been there before and the possibility of going back kinda frightened you.

“whatcha smiling at?” sasha asked while being all up on your phone as you texted connie.

“her man.” tia commented, which prompted you to send a death stare her way.

“man? you ain’t tell us you had a man? who’s the man?” you rolled your eyes before putting your phone down.

“i don’t have a man, sasha.”

“yet.” tia coughed.

“i’ll never have a man. especially after what happened with…” you couldn’t even really say his name, not like it deserved to be said anyway.

“who?” sasha looked at tia because she knew she’d have the answer.

“her ex.” she mumbled and sasha quickly understood.

“but don’t be like that! you’ll have a man, especially one that’s gonna treat you…not like how the other one treated you.”

“his name is gonna start with a c and end with an e…he’s gonna be funny and fine…he’s gonna—“

“t.”

“that’s very specific.”

“girl, we talking about connie!” you immediately shushed tia in case jean was somewhere nearby.

“ohhh! aww~i knew he was talking to somebody new, i didn’t think it was you though. cute!”

“we’re not a thing.”

“they kissed. tongue and everything. sucking each other’s faces off—“

sasha gasped. “oh my god…yall fucked?”

“no. just a kiss, calm down.”

“you saying that like it’s a bad thing. his dick little or something?”

“no, i’d just be surprised if y’all did. you’re so soft and quiet and he’s…he sells drugs.”

“okay, and? money money money~” tia sang.

“he’s cool and we kissed so i’m just tryna see if the kiss was a waste of time.” it obviously wasn’t because it occupied your mind for hours in a day but you just wanted to see if anything would come out of it or if you were just signing an invisible contract to become one of his throw-away hoes.

“evidently not, got you smiling at the phone and shit.” you threw a pillow towards tia.

“you got jokes, huh?”

“what’s going on in here?” jean came into your room.

“none of your business, why are you in here?”

“to let you know i’m going to the store and if you wanted to come?”

“so it’s just fuck us huh?” tia commented and jean narrowed her eyes at her.

“yep. you coming, y/n?” you nodded just to get out the house.

“you’re gonna leave us?” sasha stood up from the bed, pouting.

“no, i’ll be back. just take care of the house.”

you and jean went to the store to get more groceries because it was the first time since he’s been back.

you two were walking down snack aisle when you thought you saw connie with some girl and eventually you were sure it was him. they were laughing, giggling, and touching all up on each other and your heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces. it showed on your face and jean picked up on your energy shift.

“hey, what’s wrong? you don’t like chocolate chip?” jean asked innocently as he held up a box of chocolate chip cookies.

“i’m okay. what else do we need to get?” you tried to shake the scene off but you couldn’t.

“umm…that’s it. you sure you okay?”

“yeah, can we leave now?”

“of course.” he nodded. the only time you rushed him was if something was really wrong or you didn’t wanna be somewhere so he understood. on the ride back, he did have questions but he knew not to bother you if you looked upset. so when you finally got home you went straight to your room but forgot sasha and tia were still there.

“what’s wrong? what happened at the store?” you shook your head but sasha and tia looked at each other, knowing something was wrong.

“you saw connie?” tia whispered. you were quiet so that gave away your answer. “don’t tell me he was with another bitch bruh…” you were quiet again.

“i’m sorry y/n…i can talk to him if you want. this might all be a big misunderstanding.” sasha rubbed your leg. you didn’t feel like crying or anything, you were just mad. his lil kiss started to get you into feelings you were kinda excited for but then he goes and have another bitch in his face? yeah you knew it was a waste of time.

“it is what it is,” you shrugged. “i just don’t think he’s for me.”

“don’t give up! maybe it was a cousin you saw him with or something.” tia side-eyed sasha.

“be forreal.”

“it didn’t look like a cousin. the way they were all up on each other.”

“were they kissing?” you shook your head. “at least that’s good.”

“yeah i just need to take a step back.”

“a few steps all the way back.” tia’s comment made you and sasha giggle before you all talked some more. after a few more minutes, tia and sasha ended up leaving and jean was knocking on your door.

“come in!”

“hey, you okay? you looked pretty upset earlier.” jean came in and sat on your bed.

“i’m fine. just a mood swing or something.” jean knew you were lying and was battling in his head whether or not he should ask you what he really wants to ask you.

“okay…i just have a question,” you didn’t look at him but was silent just to listen to him. “what’s up with you and connie?” your heart sank again but you couldn’t explain why if there’s truthfully nothing going on, at least not anymore.

“nothing. why?”

“i overheard yall talking about him. i just wanted to ask you just in case i misheard or whatever.”

“we kissed but we’re not dating or anything.” jean had to admit he was a bit bothered by what you told him but his priority was with you, not connie.

“okay then, just…i don’t want you getting hurt. i want your heart and mind protected and honestly, connie is not gonna be the one to do that for you. he’s my best friend and all and we’re cool but, you will always come first. i’ll always be on your side, understood?” you nodded in confirmation. luckily you hadn’t gotten that far with connie for anything to change. you hoped that outside of you, him and jean would still be friends because you didn’t wanna ruin anything for your brother.

#aot x reader #aot x black reader #black reader #connie springer #aot connie #connie springer x black reader #connie springer x black y/n

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icallhimjoey · 11 months ago

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i neeeed soft!joey x reader sleeping with their head in the others lap. dont mind which way it is but still 🥹 too soft i cannot

okay so, i know that this request asks for me to write something new but, i've got things planned and i didnt want this to drown and disappear into my inbox to maybe be found months later, so, TO MEET YOUR NEEDS, here's an excerpt from all goes south that i wrote early feb 2023. hope it suffices!! Wordcount: 0.9K

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Taken From: All Goes South

excerpt taken from part four You thought everything was going to change when Joe texted you, “Are you busy tonight?” and you looked around your small, dingy flat before answering,

“Other than falling asleep to bad TV and sleeping off this splitting headache, not really”

You’d just finished doing dishes and were quite literally excited to lay down on your sofa and not move for the rest of the evening.

“Sounds lush, come do that here”

Joe hadn’t yet been over to your place, and you’d been weird about it that first night, so Joe had never asked to come over again. You were glad; your place was a filthy shoebox compared to Joe’s home. A real grimy one, all sorts of drab, with a messy flatmate, because who the fuck could afford their own flat in central London as an undergrad?

You sent Joe a pic from your position on the sofa, your legs spread out with your ankles crossed on the coffee table.

“Don’t wanna move”

“Text your address again?”

Joe made that sound all kinds of casual. You’d never texted Joe your address before, and him coming over to your place was definitely not what you had planned for.

You probably would’ve hoovered had you known earlier in the day.

Now? Not a chance.

Joe’d dropped you off after a photoshoot once, so he vaguely knew whereabouts your lived, but he’d never been over.

You knew you’d hate yourself for it later. Joe had no business being in your dirty little flat. But you didn’t reply with a joke, or a sly comment, or even something flirty. You just texted your address, because, actually, you really fucking wanted to snuggle up to Joe, even if that meant Joe was going to see your unhoovered flat, and maybe meet your flatmate.

When Joe entered, it was obvious to him why you needed a proper job. He didn’t comment, but you could see him look, which was fine - you’d looked around his place the first time you’d seen it too.

Different reasons, of course, but, whatever.

He joined you on the sofa, and tried to make polite conversation. Said he brought gin, because he knew it was your favourite, but you hardly reacted. You weren’t joking before when you said you had a headache. And so Joe dropped it. Just sat next to you and was happy he got to be close.

That was all he wanted anyway.

To be close.

It didn’t take long before you found yourself nodding off, head bobbing, jerking itself back up every time it fell forward. You were fighting off yawns and kept rubbing your face in a weak attempt to stay awake. It was hard work, and your headache started getting worse, but you had a guest over, and it was rude to just fall asleep next to them, so you fought against all instincts until you heard a soft chuckle from Joe.

“You’re allowed to sleep, you know? Come, lay down,”

And then he offered you his lap.

So much for taking things slow.

Sure, you weren’t about to deep throat him exactly, but that was some close penis-to-face interaction you were about to get involved in.

But you were so tired.

And you really liked Joe.

So you moved, and scooted, and your head found Joe’s lap. Four arms worked together to cover you with the throw blanket, and before you knew it, Joe’s hand was patting your hair, and then a kiss got pressed into it before he sat back up.

His hand remained, and fingers raked, brushed and softly played and all of it made you fully relax.

Turned you into putty.

Made you melt into Joe’s touch.

Nothing was going to beat this.

Ever.

It only took you a few seconds to drift away. To float. To hover in flight, the wind keeping you stationary.

Somehow you felt yourself slipping away from Joe whilst simultaneously moving towards him more.

Joe made small comments about whatever you were watching, but his voice was a faraway, deep thing that melted over you a little.

You drifted and floated and hovered until you found yourself in this bubble where it was just warmth, comfortability and tingles from scalp scratches.

Your thoughts went fuzzy, and you didn’t think about how you always seemed to self-sabotage everything in your life. How you always pushed away whoever was trying to get close. In your bubble it was safe, and Joe was allowed inside, and nothing could hurt you in there, in Joe’s hands.

Teetering on the edge of falling asleep, of fully slipping under, Joe noticed your breathing had become steady and slow, so he pulled his hand away, afraid that his touch would wake you back up.

But the second his fingers stopped playing, you stirred, hummed, and then blindly reached behind your head to find his hand and placed it back. It made Joe’s chest swell. Made him think things, like he wanted this forever, like he wanted to kiss you silly. Wanted to cuddle you close until your individual smell became his and his became yours. Wanted to inhale you, fill his lungs up the to brim with you.

Be close.

Forever be close.

Joe was in trouble.

Trouble had found him in the form of a pretty girl and Joe was absolutely fucking gone for you.

You thought everything was going to change then, but it hadn’t. Not at all, actually.

---

read All Goes South here

(skipping the taglist on this one because posting this feels like cheating since it's not new writing)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #all goes south

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djs-sideblog-for-pog-trains · 11 months ago

Text

James and his ballroom dancing teacher

a rewrite of this post/ficlet from 2021 :] and a partner to this art piece i posted yesterday.

wordcount: 8.9k words

relationships: romantic 4x5, implied background 2x3.

characters: ALL HUMANISED James, Gordon, Thomas, Edward, Henry, Percy, Flying Scotsman, Topham Hatt (who have talking rolls, everyone else is implied to be there or potentially name-dropped)

tags/warnings: brief mention of alcohol, kissing, anxiety/spiralling thoughts. Can't think of anything else.

Kind of hurt/comfort but mostly just emotional fluff. A slowburn oneshot, if you will.

Full fic under the cut ^-^

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The anniversary of Sir Topham Hatt taking over from his father, (also Sir Topham Hatt) is a scant few months away. James won’t lie he’s been eyeing up the calendar – he’s been sensing a good opportunity – so he’s spent the past week or two voicing his …wonderings as to whether the Fat Controller will throw some sort of event, surely he should, he’s earnt one by now.

Thomas finally looks up, and eyes James over their mediocre breakroom cups of tea.

“You just want an excuse to dress up, don’t you?” he drawls, even as he idly stirs his tea, the spoon clinking against the cup.

James sticks his nose in the air even as he flushes just a little.

“And what if I do?” he huffs. “I have a lovely dress-coat that I ordered all the way from Manchester, and I haven’t even had a chance to wear it yet! A ball would be perfect! When was the last time we ever had a ball?”

Thomas stares into his tea.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a ball,” he says, then he frowns. “Well, maybe when the queen came. But, y’know. That was the queen.”

“I’m just saying, we should have one,” James says, waving his hands. “I mean, even besides all that, surely Sir Topham Hatt deserves one. It’s been a long haul.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, but he does nod.

“You have a point,” he says. “You could ask him. Or are you hoping the gossip will reach him first?”

James laughs. “You know me too well,” he says. “Oop, it’s 1:40, my next train’s in five minutes. See you later, puffball!”

“Bye, bootlace,” Thomas calls back as James rises from his seat and hurries away.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

It seems James’ plan has worked. Within the week, murmurs are already spreading about a ball. Hatt even sends out a letter of interest, to which actually most everyone replies with enthusiasm.

“Sir, would you let us go to the mainland to get appropriate formalwear?” James asks, eventually, when their paths cross at Knapford. “It would be a shame if we couldn’t dress to impress – the opportunity for such things comes so rarely. It’d be a real treat.”

Topham eyes him knowingly, but laughs and tugs at the lapels of his coat as he thinks.

“I have to admit, you raise a good point, James,” he nods. “I can’t let you all go at once, but… Hm. Perhaps I will organise some sort of schedule within the coming month.”

James beams. “Oh, thank you sir!”

“Before you get too excited,” Hatt smiles wryly, “Go take your next train.”

The clock overhead in the station chimes 10am. James flinches, before he nods at Hatt and hurries away.

It’s fine. He counts this as a win.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

After work today, James ends up walking home with Edward. Not that they do this often, but, well, they only live a couple flats down from each other anyway. And besides! James has a favour he needs to ask as unnaturally as possible.

“Ugh,” he starts. “The ball coming up, I’m so nervous.”

“Nervous?” Edward repeats. “That’s hardly like you, James.”

“But I don’t know how to dance,” James complains, shooting Edward a kind of look.

Edward shakes his head, frowning in fond confusion.

“Now that’s a lie,” he says. “I’ve seen you tap, James.”

“But that’s not ballroom dancing,” James stresses. “I don’t know how to- say, to waltz. I can’t show up to a real, fancy ball not knowing how to waltz.”

And Edward lets out a little snort now that he’s catching on, his smile slowly growing and his eyebrow slowly raising.

“Not like you,” James finally lays down his honey trap. “I remember seeing you dance, once, Edward, you were wonderful.”

“And you want me to teach you.”

James clasps his hands, grinning. “Yes!” he exclaims.

“No,” says Edward.

“Ah! Why not?!”

Edward laughs, and keeps walking even as James stops, putting his hands on his hips dramatically as he pouts at the back of Edward’s head.

“I need you!” James calls. “Edward, it’s my time of need!”

“Uh huh,” Edward says, not looking back and not stopping.

Eventually, James is forced to rush to catch up, and he quickly manages to fall back in step with Edward.

“But I need a teacher,” he pleads again. “Edward, I don’t want to make a fool of myself!"

"You could have fooled me,” Edward laughs, before he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Look, if you really want a good teacher, why don’t you ask Gordon? He taught me everything I know.”

James stops dead again – but this time, he has a much more different, far more flustered expression on his face. Edward stops this time, too, a few paces ahead of James, and looks back at him with a knowing smile.

“Do ask nicely though, hm?” he tacks on. “You wouldn’t want Gordon to turn you down, would you?”

James’ flush only deepens.

“Sod off,” he finally says.

“Mm, this is my house,” Edward replies, smiling, and James realises he has in fact walked Edward all the way home – past his own place, too. “I think it’s you who may have to sod off.”

James flushes redder.

Edward laughs at him, in that fond knowing way of his that’s almost more infuriating than anything else, and waves goodbye as he heads up the path to his flat.

James balls his fists, before he lets out a hissing breath between his teeth, and walks himself home while he definitely, totally, does not stew over ask Gordon.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

On Tuesdays, he has a small overlap with Gordon at Knapford at 10am.

So James is already loitering on the station platform as Gordon hops down from his engine, and Gordon spots him leaning on one of the pillars, attempting to look as casual as possible.

“Oh!” he says. “Hello there, little James.”

James hopefully manages to control his expression. He hasn’t decided if he is annoyed by the ‘little’ or if it’s grown on him, because Gordon has managed to make it sound …endearing, nowadays. Though James is, uh, may be imagining that bit. Probably.

“Hi,” he replies.

“…Were you waiting for me?” Gordon asks, and he draws in closer, pausing a good metre away and putting one hand in his pocket, resting his weight over one hip, and it’s not fair, because he looks so good and he cuts such an imposing figure in his work uniform that James has to focus to get through his sentence.

“Yes, actually,” James says, straightening up from where he was leaning against the station pillar. “A little bluebird told me you can dance.”

To James’ surprise, Gordon actually… stiffens a little. James watches his expression close up just a fraction, almost imperceptibly so if James didn’t happen to know the minutia of Gordon’s facial expressions well by this point.

“…What of it?” Gordon asks, folding his arms. He sounds somewhat… miffed.

James clasps his hands behind his back and smiles as brightly as he can.

“Teach me.”

“No.”

James pouts. “Please?”

“No.” Gordon repeats, more out of instinct, before he sighs, and looks down dolefully at James. “…Are you going to drop this, at all?”

“No,” James says sweetly. “Teach me?”

Really, James hopes Gordon will say yes without too much hounding. H-he does like the idea of learning off of Gordon. Whether Gordon denies it to not, he does carry himself in his day-to-day life with the grace of poise of a dancer. Now Edward’s mentioned it, James isn’t sure how he hasn’t noticed sooner.

A-and, well, really, he trusts Gordon. Gordon will make fun of him to his face, but he probably wouldn’t tattle on James’ potential two left feet to everyone else. And James doesn’t really want to… broadcast that he’s having to learn these things. Or something. He doesn’t know, it’s probably all a bit silly anyway.

Gordon tips his head back for a moment, and sighs heavily.

“Okay,” he says.

“Now, I know that you don’t-!” James cuts himself off. “Oh. Um. Thank you.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Gordon says. “Catch up with me after work, if you’re serious.”

“I’m dead serious!” James clasps his hands. “I am.”

“Well then,” Gordon says, as he nods at James before walking past him, to go get some morning tea or something, probably. “That’s that, then.”

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Gordon catches him after work, his expression somewhat intense as he grabs James’ arm and his attention. James pauses, looking up at him.

“Oh,” he says, “yes?”

“Tonight,” Gordon says, voice low, not far off murmuring into James’ ear. “Are you willing to start tonight?”

James lights up. “Yes!” he says, though he does his best to mirror Gordon’s hushed tone. “Where? When?”

Gordon snorts, amused, and pats his left trouser pocket knowingly.

“Hatt gave me a key to the ballroom they’ll be using,” he says conspiratorially. “We will practice there.”

James smiles, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“…And, I was thinking after dark,” Gordon says softly. “…Just to, shall we say, preserve our dignity.”

James flushes a little, despite himself.

“What,” he says, “you think I’m going to be that bad?”

Gordon laughs, and lets James’ arm go. He also doesn’t answer the question.

“How’s 11?” he asks instead.

“…pm?”

“Yes.”

“…Gordon.”

“…10?”

James closes his eyes for a moment. Well, if Gordon is really that embarrassed to be found with him, then fine.

“We can do 11,” he says tiredly. “You’re the one with the earlier trains, anyway.”

Gordon snorts, and nods. He gives James the address.

“Do you have dancing shoes?” he asks, as James begins to walk away.

“I got some recently,” James says, waving his hand. “I only had tap shoes before, and I didn’t think that’d quite work out.”

Gordon laughs again, before he nods at James, seemingly satisfied.

“See you later,” he says, finally raising his voice back to his normal speaking register, before he turns on his heel and strides away.

James takes a moment to massage his temple. That was weird. That was weird, right? He’s not going nuts?

“…That was weird,” comments Thomas from across the room. “What on earth were you talking about?”

“Ah!” James practically jumps out of his skin, and jolts around, glaring at his coworker. “How long have you been there?!”

“Not that long,” Thomas says, as he pulls on his coat. “But long enough to see that was kind of weird. What did he want?”

“He’s doing a favour for me,” James says, before he shakes his head and starts to walk. Thomas falls into pace beside him, head tilting in curiosity, waiting for an explanation. “…Privately.”

“Ooh,” Thomas teases. “You finally told him?”

“What?!” James goes red despite himself, and gives Thomas a shove. “You’re delusional. There’s nothing to tell. Shut up.”

“Uh huh.”

“Shut up!”

James speeds up, hoping it’ll make Thomas leave him alone. It notably does not. In fact, Thomas tails him the entire way back to his flat, asking leading questions the whole while, and James has to slam the bloody door closed in the prat’s face until Thomas finally leaves him alone. And James can hear Thomas’ laughter through the door as he walks away.

James takes the moment to let his back thump against the door and to cover his face, screaming into his hands a little bit, just for fun. This is… James needs a lie down, or something.

He also needs to find his dancing shoes before tonight.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

James trudges up to the hall, his bag with his shoes in it thrown over his shoulder, his coat thrown over top plain, casual clothes he doesn’t usually let people see him wear – he likes to be well presented at all times, but tonight he also needs to be comfortable enough to dance.

He’s so nervous. What if he can’t get it? What if Gordon gives up on him? What if this ruins their friendship? The building is dark, did James get the right time? The right place? He feels ill. Why couldn’t Edward have just said yes? If it turns out Gordon has stood him up, James is blaming Edward.

James tries the door handle. It’s …unlocked. He lets out a sigh of relief and slips inside.

…Wow. This room is huge. And that may be a stupid thing to say, considering it’s a ballroom, but James pauses, wide-eyed, by the door as he takes in the space. He didn’t even know the NWR had one of these.

And down the other end, Gordon is already there and waiting, though he’s lit a few candles, filling his end of the hall with a thin, watery yellow light, and he’s setting up… a tape deck?

“You still use cassettes?” James calls, and Gordon looks up at him. James hitches his bag up over his shoulder again as he crosses the room. “Way to join the modern world, Gordon.”

“What, would you have rather I brought a record player?” Gordon replies, as he inserts a cassette. “Besides, these are the tapes I learnt off. Figured it was a good place to start.”

James has to sit on the floor to swap his shoes over. Looking up at Gordon, who is still poking at the tape deck, James… drinks him in, a little. Gordon’s down to just his white button-up shirt, and he’s undone his tie and top two buttons, not to mention he’s rolled up his sleeves. James does his best not to stare at Gordon’s forearms. Gordon lets the tape start playing, and a waltz James doesn’t know the name of fills the air.

“Are you ready?”

James jumps, and shakes his head to clear it, and finishes lacing up his shoes. He rises to his feet, shedding his coat, and he puts his things to the side as Gordon watches him.

“…I don’t think I’ve never seen you in a just a t-shirt before,” Gordon comments, as James hurries back to stand in front of him.

And James looks down at himself, flushes, and wonders briefly if he should put his coat back on. It’s a long-sleeve t-shirt (red, of course), because he’s not about to let Gordon inspect his scars. It does have a lower neckline, showing the hints of some, though, and it leaves the scars on the back of his hands visible.

Gordon… doesn’t comment on any of that, though his eyes graze over them briefly.

“Feel honoured,” James jokes instead, shivering despite himself. “I don’t usually dress down.”

To his relief, Gordon laughs, and holds out his right hand to James.

“Then I do feel honoured indeed,” he says. “Now, lets begin before it gets any later, hm?”

James puts his left hand in Gordon’s, before he tries to play it cool as Gordon puts his other hand on James’ back. …Um, huh. His hands are big. And warm. James focusses on looking Gordon in the eye instead of reacting to the feeling of Gordon’s hands on him.

“Put your hand on my shoulder,” says Gordon. “And don’t lean your arm on mine. You should be poised.”

James blinks, but nods, words escaping him, and he strikes the pose he thinks he’s supposed to – he can copy what he’s seen on Strictly Come Dancing at least this much.

“Good,” Gordon says. “Now, we’ll start with the waltz.”

James… James actually gets his head around it far quicker than he expected, which he is thoroughly relieved by. He does have his eyes glued to their feet, and he sometimes steps backwards when he shouldn’t, but, successfully, he hasn’t stood on Gordon’s toes yet.

Gordon spends the night teaching James a basic going-in-a-little-circle thing.

“I do expect you to memorise all the steps,” Gordon does say eventually. “But it will be less important for you, seeing as you’ll be following a lead anyway. As long as you can be reactive, read what is coming next, and follow it, then you should be fine.”

James’ arms feel heavy, his feet feel sore. It’s been a good long while since he’s had a dancing lesson of any sort. The muscles in his legs are reminding him of that fact so courteously.

…Gordon smiles at him anyway, though.

“Well done,” he says, and James blinks in surprise at the compliment. “It’s not often anyone picks it up that fast.”

“Was I quicker than Edward?” James asks, half-teasing as he steps back, taking his hands off Gordon and stretching a little.

Gordon laughs, his head tipping back, and it rings around the empty room. James finds himself smiling in response to the sound, he’s always liked Gordon’s laugh.

“Yes, James,” Gordon says. “You were indeed. Now, it’s… late. We should finish.”

James swaps his shoes back over and pulls on his coat, and Gordon blows out the candles and turns off the tape deck, though he leaves it where it is. And he swaps his shoes out, too, and turns to an already waiting James.

“I’ll walk you home?” James offers.

“��If you insist,” Gordon says, and he gives James a little smile that almost looks a little fond, if James dares to believe as such.

They walk quietly, not wanting to wake anyone, and James pauses as Gordon stops by James’ front gate.

“You don’t need to double back,” Gordon says. “I can manage the rest on my own, I think.”

“Oh,” James says. “…Of course. Thank you, by the way. I didn’t expect you to go quite this late.”

“You were doing well,” Gordon shrugs. “I didn’t want to…” he gestures vaguely with one hand, “…interrupt the flow of progress.”

James shifts on his feet. “When will we do this again?” he asks.

“Tomorrow?” Gordon offers, before he blinks at himself even as James looks up at him. “I-if you like.”

“Okay,” James agrees before he considers whether he should. “That’d be splendid.”

“Done.” Gordon says, before his lips quirk into a wry, lopsided smile, and he tacks on, “Sleep well, James.”

James nods, and hurries down the path to his front door without another word. It’s once he’s unlocking the door that he realises Gordon’s waiting for him to go inside before he leaves. So James waves goodbye, closes the door behind him, and watches through the peephole for a moment to see Gordon walk away.

His heart is racing. James hangs up his coat by the door, presses the flats of his palms to his cheeks to check whether they’re as hot as they feel before he stumbles his way to bed.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Time passes. At first, it was rough, returning to the habit of dancing every day, but a month has passed, and there’s only one month more until the ball, and James and Gordon have been meeting to practice by candlelight every night. James is even used to the adjustment of sleeping schedule now.

Is it silly that James really likes the candlelight aspect? It’s… romantic, if he may be so bold. Though on the other hand, it feels almost mean to take up so much of Gordon’s time like this. Yes, James asked, and asked again when Gordon said no, but Gordon is giving him far much more time than James had ever considered he’d be willing to give.

Which is very nice of him. But… James just didn’t expect it, he supposes.

Over those four weeks, Gordon has gone from bossing him through the steps and correcting his form, to… quietly complimenting him when James pulls off a nice piece of footwork. And there’s been more and more compliments than before, even though Gordon has gotten quieter. That’s the only way James can put it. Gordon’s been talking less and watching more – he must actually be quite quiet if you just leave Gordon be. And… Gordon has just been looking. At James. Sometimes, he seems distracted doing so.

And James can’t help but admit he’s guilty in return. James didn’t realise how dark Gordon’s eyes are, how warm and rich a brown they are – not until they’re looking down at him, glinting in the candle light.

It’s as James waves Gordon goodbye one night more, Gordon standing with his hands in his pockets under the streetlight, and Gordon smiles and nods and waits for James to close the door, that it all hits him.

James closes the door so Gordon can’t see his face as he flushes dark, and he puts his hands flat on the door and leans there, bracing himself as he flushes hot and flushes cold, and-

Cinders. Cinders and ashes. James has a crush on Gordon.

Like, okay, fine. Fine! James has ‘had a crush on Gordon’ for a while. He thinks the guy is big and proud and strong and pretty and handsome and all those good things, but James had actually always considered that fairly superficial. Maybe even bordering on jealousy, if he really wanted to try analysing himself. And that was the biggest reason why he never wanted to tell anyone, and why the idea of telling Gordon felt so mortifying. Because… what if it wasn’t real?

But now? This time? This is… this is a real, actual crush. James turns so he can put his back to the door, flopping there as he feels a little lightheaded, standing in the dark of the entrance hall of his home. He hardly knows what to do with himself like this.

A-at the very least, they’re good dance partners. It feels pretty natural, actually. James is surprised how natural it feels. They dance best when they aren’t bickering – and… Gordon and him haven’t bickered for a while.

James shivers, and marches himself into the kitchen to go drink a glass of water and then throw a glass of water in his face. He’s being melodramatic. Despite that, he almost feels like he’s coming down with something, now the realisation’s hit him.

It’s moments like this where James is glad he lives alone. No one to see him like this, no one to make fun of him. No one to ask weaselly little questions that make him feel more confused.

He shakes his head, grips the sink as he takes a big breath in and a big breath out, before he whisks himself off to bed. Maybe he’ll sleep it off.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Nope. Three weeks until the ball and James has to acknowledge that he is, in fact, in love with Gordon. He has to grapple with this night after night as Gordon’s hands are on him and he gets to rest his hands on Gordon, and he can spend the whole time studying Gordon’s face instead of having to look at his feet, because Gordon has gotten him good enough that James doesn’t need to watch his feet anymore. And Gordon’s even taught him multiple dances at this point, though James is still learning the tango. The foxtrot and the quickstep were easy enough. And sillily enough, he didn’t consider Gordon to be a man who knew how to tango.

The candlelight catches Gordon’s eye again, as they turn a corner, and it makes James’ breath hitch a little, before he swallows the rising guilt in his throat, and opens his mouth.

“If, uh,” he starts slowly, following Gordon’s lead as they do the fancier turn Gordon taught him, “if you ever want to learn how to tap, for any reason, I can teach you too, if you want.”

Gordon tilts his head. “Well,” he says, lips quirking into a little smile as he leads James through a promenade and spinning him at the end for good measure, “I don’t know when I’d need that, but I’ll keep you in mind.”

“Or even something like-!”

James can’t help the rising agitation in his voice, and to his- his- his horror? Gordon comes to a complete halt, making James stop with him, and he raises an eyebrow at James even as his hands feel so heavy where they rest in James’ own and on James’ hip. It kills the words trying to form in James’ throat.

“What’s all this about, James?”

Cinders, Gordon asks it so plainly.

“I feel guilty,” James blurts – before he can think about whether he even should. “For taking up so much of your time.”

Gordon pauses, pursing his lips, and he looks quietly amused for a moment, before he shrugs. “You’re not taking anything I’m not willing to give,” he says, and he gives James an enigmatic smile, and James wishes the man would stop talking in circles. “I don’t mind spending my time like this.”

I don’t mind you, is what Gordon’s eyes seem to say. James hopes his cheeks don’t look as hot as they feel. He’s almost shaking.

“But!” Gordon finally lifts his hands away. “If you really feel that way, then I’ll take a batch of your scones after this is all over.”

And James laughs at that, slightly too loudly, a burst of the frantic energy that was building inside him, and he smiles and nods and steps backwards so the gloom will hide his expression which most certainly must be moonstruck. “Done,” he agrees.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The time has been flying by. It’s now the week of the ball, and James should be excited. They’re still practicing by candlelight in the ballroom in the evenings, but the ballroom is slowly getting populated with things like tables and lights and decorations as the days pass, signalling the ball’s arrival.

James feels anxious! He’s not even sure why. It’s clearly not over his ability to dance. They can now run several dances start to end, and at multiple speeds, with ease. He’s even figured out that tango.

It dawns on him gently as he and Gordon are doing their latest lap, breezing down the entire length of the ballroom, that James doesn’t want this to end. He wants his candlelit nights with Gordon, stolen away from the chaos that daytime and the railway and their workmates present.

He likes this. He likes Gordon.

So when Gordon is asked to give his key back three days before the event, James can’t help but look distressed at the news. And Gordon laughs, he claps James on the back and tells him not to worry because he’s going to be fine.

Gordon doesn’t… get it, then. James takes a breath in, a breath out, and offers Gordon a smile and a little thank you. That’s fine. Gordon doesn’t… have to get it.

It has left him sitting in the breakroom, staring into his tea as he muses over it all, though. And while he doesn’t hear the approaching footsteps, he does hear the clink of a mug set down, and the thump of someone taking the seat across from him, and Thomas asking, “What’s got you so glum?”

James jumps, not realising he must have been wearing his heart on his sleeve, and offers Thomas a smile even as he goes to drink his tea to try hide his misery.

It makes Thomas eye him warily.

“Gordon’s not broken your heart, has he?” he asks.

James chokes on his drink, and splutters, “I beg your pardon?!”

Thomas laughs at him, leaning back in his seat, and James glances around the room to doublecheck that they are thankfully alone right now.

“Edward mentioned to me that you’d been having lessons,” Thomas winks, gesturing a cheers with his tea.

“That wanker.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” Thomas quickly follows up, eyeing James over his mug, before he smiles that cheeky smile of his. “Mostly because I know you’ll have my head.”

“Damn right,” James says, and he takes a pointed drink of his tea, not even wanting to know how red he’s gone right now.

“Easy,” Thomas raises a hand in defeat. “I guess I’m just checking in. You’re looking pretty put out.”

James sighs. His shoulders sag. He cups his hands around his tea and stares into it.

“I’m just in a little over my head, I think,” he mumbles.

“More like head over heels.”

“I’ll throw this at you. Don’t think I wont.”

That makes Thomas laugh, even as James tries to glare at him, before Thomas’ expression softens.

“James,” he says, in a quiet voice that makes James’ stomach drop. “In all seriousness. I’ve known Gordon for longer than you have, and… if he didn’t want to have you around, he simply wouldn’t.”

James gives up on trying not to flush.

Thomas opens his mouth again, before he clearly decides against saying more, and he gets to his feet, shaking his head before he drains the last of his tea from his mug.

“Think about telling him, maybe,” he suggests, before he pats James on the shoulder and leaves the room, leaving James to stew in his thoughts, and try to gather himself before his afternoon train.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The night of the ball itself is absolutely brimming with excitement. Everyone is dressed to the nines, in their fancy clothes from the mainland that Sir Topham Hatt let them all go get, and the energy is infectious. The crowd is full of people he knows and people he doesn’t, it seems all of Sodor’s invited, and about half of England too.

James himself is wearing his lovely red dress-coat, all wine-red and gold braid, his crispest white gloves, a cravat and a lovely pair of red boots he had to go buy from the mainland too, which are just perfect for dancing in after he’s spent the week breaking them in. And he’s grinning like a lunatic as he drinks in the room around him – the ballroom he’s only ever seen in half-light has absolutely exploded with life and colour and noise.

From behind him, someone clears their throat. James spins on his heel to see Gordon standing there, and oh! He’s looking absolutely resplendent in midnight blue tails of his own, adorned with silver braids, and a single red flower (a rose or a carnation, James can’t tell) in his lapel.

James grins as he sees it, feeling a little less self-conscious about the rich blue pocket square he added to his own outfit too.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Gordon beats him to it.

“You look just splendid,” Gordon says, awed.

James preens at that, he can’t help it. He then smooths down his coat and pointedly looks Gordon up and down in return, letting his admiration shine on his face. “I could say the same for you,” he says.

“Have you heard about all the invitations?” Gordon says, stepping in a little closer as someone slips behind him. “Hatt sent some out to celebrities who’ve been involved with the railway.”

“Oh, yes, I heard,” James nods. “I’ve even seen City of Truro here tonight! Fancy him coming along, Duck will be pleased.”

“Yes, yes,” Gordon says, glancing around. “But…”

James’s face falls in realisation. “Ah.”

“Yes. Not only did Hatt invite my brother, but he damn well accepted,” Gordon half-laughs, tugging at his lapels, straightening them, “and Hatt only told me this morning! And I know how Scott likes to present himself, so… I couldn’t be shown up.”

“Of course,” James agrees politely, but he purses his lips, reading the anxiety weighing down Gordon’s board shoulders with ease. “…Do you want to avoid him?”

“No,” Gordon says, almost too quickly, and he steps back to accept a couple flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and hands one to James, and James sips it politely before his eyes go wide, Hatt really didn’t spare any expense on getting the good stuff, huh? “I just… hope it will be less frigid tonight than the last time we spoke.”

James looks up at Gordon sympathetically, who muses on his statement for a moment longer, before he shakes his head like he’s shaking off water, and Gordon turns to him, smiling.

“But enough of that!” he exclaims, and offers James his arm. “I do believe we’re under distinct instructions to enjoy ourselves.”

James laughs, and takes it, stepping in closer as a couple tries to slip by them to get to the dance floor.

“Shall we go attack the hors d’oeuvres before Henry does?” he offers.

Gordon laughs, and pats James’ wrist with surprising tenderness, it almost makes James gasp.

“That’s a splendid idea,” he grins back, the ice finally melting from his face.

James’ heart totally doesn’t not skip a beat over the way Gordon says splendid.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

It’s all fine. The evening goes fine! It’s now about 9pm, and the room is now lit with electric lights, candles, and strings of fairy lights. It really does make the mood more magical. James splits off now, to go natter with his friends. He gets heckled by Thomas and Percy, but they’re all laughing, and James has to compliment their formal gear too.

“It’s nice to finally get a flattering tailor, I’ll tell you that much,” Percy says, smoothing down his coat. “I don’t think I’ve ever owned a waistcoat before.”

“And I can’t remember the last time I actually wore a tie,” Thomas jokes, making a show of tugging his collar. “But really, James, I see why you wanted to dress up so badly. You look great.”

James plays up preening, and does a little spin for them. “Thank you,” he says. “Call me vain, but honestly, I do find it splendid to see everyone dressed up like this.”

“It’s true,” Thomas nods. “I’ve seen more pretty gowns tonight than I think I have in my whole life. Have you seen what Emily’s wearing? Showstopper.”

“So many sequins,” Percy nods.

James moves closer to their side so he can take in the whole room, and as his eyes graze over the dance floor, he realises Edward and Henry are out there.

And then he barks with laughter.

“What’s up?” Thomas asks.

“I see why Edward refused to teach me!” James laughs, and points them out. “Look.”

Henry is leading, god bless him, and he’s very, very carefully watching their feet. He’s not unconfident, certainly, but he’s not necessarily confident either, and glancing up at Edward’s face, who’s smiling encouraging at him, and not even wincing when Henry steps on his toes.

“That’s cute,” Percy says. “Good for them.”

And… watching them go? Maybe it’s the live music. Maybe it’s the candlelight. Maybe it’s the champagne. But James is suddenly possessed with the need to go find Gordon and drag him out onto the dance floor right now.

“Excuse me,” he says, and Thomas smiles at him knowingly, and James flips him off for fun even as he begins to weave his way through the crowd.

James finds himself outside, stepping through the grand French doors that have been thrown open to welcome the warm summer night. The spill-out area is filled with classy outdoor furniture, there’s fairy lights everywhere, the gardens have been completely redone and all the hedges are beautifully trimmed, and there, standing off to the side, is Gordon and his brother.

Gordon’s laughing along to whatever Scot is saying, but the way he has his arms folded across his chest, the set of his shoulders, the way his body is angled away from the conversation, it’s clear to anyone who knows him well that he’s a little too uncomfortable right now.

So James makes a beeline for him, and pops up by Gordon’s elbow.

“Hullo, Gordon!” he chirps warmly, and smiles as the tension just rolls of Gordon now someone else is here. “And, hello,” he says, polite yet slightly stiff to Scot, who nods at him and offers him the big smile of someone who is very used to meeting new people.

“Hello!” he says, and offers James a hand to shake, which James does take (and tries not to wince at the strength of his grip). “Who might you be?”

“James,” James offers. “I’m a good friend of Gordon’s.”

“Aha!” Scot’s face lights up far more genuinely this time. “Gordie was just telling me about you.”

James tastefully manages not to laugh at Gordie, more so because he’s jumping straight into oh broken buffers, what did Gordon say about him?

“My prized student,” Gordon jokes, lightly elbowing him, and James grins back.

“Speaking of,” he says. “I reckon we go show Henry and Edward up. They’re not too bad, but Henry can’t keep his eyes off their feet.”

Gordon and Scot both laugh at that, and Scot graciously lets them go.

“Thank you,” Gordon leans down to whisper in James’ ear as they walk away. “It always feels like an interrogation with him.”

“It’s alright,” James shrugs. “I… had a gut feeling. Anyway. You want to dance?”

Gordon seems to be keeping himself from glancing over his shoulder.

James frowns softly at him. “We don’t have to,” he adds.

“Oh, nonsense,” Gordon says, and the hand Gordon has on James’ shoulder squeezes gently. “I’d love to. Let’s let this song finish first.”

They have to muscle their way through the crowd, ending up slipping past Hatt himself, who pats Gordon on the back and offers James a smile and nod as they go past. Before long, they end up out on the dance floor as the next song ends.

“Any ideas?”

“My guess is waltz,” Gordon says, adjusting his cufflinks before he offers his hands to James. “They’ve played a couple fast numbers back-to-back.”

“You’ve found our warmup, then. How thoughtful,” James laughs, stepping into Gordon’s arms. It’s so easy to lay his hand on Gordon’s shoulder now, to feel Gordon’s fingers curl around his hand. James isn’t sure how he ever could have dreaded it.

He laughs again as Gordon turns out to be right.

The music starts, and it’s just so natural to follow Gordon’s lead. And they’re off! Off around the dance floor, and Gordon successfully steers them through the crowd, pulling James out of the way of a close call of a collision with a quick pivot and a spin.

As they draw back together, Gordon eyes him, and James blinks back.

“You alright?” he asks. “You look flustered.”

“Flustered!” James exclaims, trying to play it off. “Me? Never.”

And Gordon actually… laughs at that, laughs at him, and James is struck with the realisation that perhaps… Gordon knows.

Well, it takes two to tango, doesn’t it?

“Well,” James changes tune, and he smirks up and Gordon. “In truth, I was just so taken by how handsome you look tonight.”

Now it’s Gordon’s turn to stammer, to falter, and for the colour to leap to his face. James hasn’t ever been brave enough to flirt before, but clearly, it works, and if Gordon’s going play that game then James can match him.

“Obviously,” Gordon manages to catch himself. “You must’ve liked the blue.”

He nods towards James’ pocket square, and James shakes his head with a bashful little smile.

“And I can see you went to match!” he nods back at Gordon’s flower.

Gordon goes to speak, before his eyes widen, and he quickly pulls James in close as another, far less-coordinated couple barrels past them, before letting James migrate back to the normal dancing distance.

“You do mean it? You think I’m handsome?”

“Of course I do,” James’ grin drops into something far softer despite his best efforts, and he says his next statement with far more heart than he means to. “I think you’re splendid.”

Gordon meets his eyes with a look that James literally cannot describe with any other word except tender.

“We need to talk, don’t we?” he asks, so softly, it’s amazing James can hear it over the music and the chatter.

“I’m listening now,” he replies.

Gordon swallows hard, before they’re brought to a halt as the song ends, and they – along with the rest of the dancers – politely clap for the musicians, before the next song starts. A quickstep. James’ face lights up instantly, and Gordon grins.

“Time to do some laps?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

They are the fastest and most fluid pair on the dancefloor. James’ dress-coat flairs out behind them in a most stunning way as they go all but flying past, a whirl of red and blue, and James can tell people are watching, and he’s relishing in it, grinning so brightly as Gordon smiles back.

They’re left panting and laughing and stumbling off the floor as the song ends – as not only the crowd but the band applaud them too. Gordon waves it off with a laugh. James takes a playful little bow, before they both stagger off to go find somewhere to sit and catch their breath.

Edward appears out of the crowd, Henry in tow, as James and Gordon find some seats, and James passes Gordon a drink.

“That,” Edward says, “was the most impressive thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

James chortles and slumps back, slumps back against Gordon without thinking, feeling Gordon tense under him for just a moment before he… yields, and melts a little back.

“You were doing well, too,” Gordon nods at Henry. “James wasn’t learning to dance from square one.”

“Just let a man be jealous in peace,” Henry grumbles jokingly, plopping himself down next to James with an oomph. “I don’t know how you manage being on your feet for that long, sometimes. I even got new comfortable shoes and my back is still killing me.”

As James pats his arm in consolation, Edward turns to Gordon with a glint in his eye.

“Dance?” he asks, holding out a hand. “For old time’s sake?”

Gordon fights down his smile, but gets up with no hesitation. Though he pauses a moment later, and glances back at James. “I’ll be right back,” he says.

“Sure thing,” James waves them off with a smile. “Show them all up.”

That makes Edward laugh, and the two of them disappear back into the throng to go dance.

James leans his head back against the wall, letting out a big, contented sigh.

“You alright?” Henry asks, as he shifts on his seat.

“Yeah, I am,” James says happily. “Or, I think so.”

Then he eyes Henry, and frowns, before he reaches over to the seats beside them and starts stealing all their cushions.

“Here, you look miserable,” he says, and helps pad Henry’s seat a little more.

“Thanks,” Henry says breathlessly. “I thought I was going to be alright, I really did.”

“No, no,” James nods along, “I understand. Especially when you’re not used to dancing.”

“How long have you and Gordon been practicing?” Henry asks.

“…Two?” James tries to count back on his fingers. “Yeah, two months.”

“Oh, thank god you said months!” Henry slaps his thigh with a laugh. “If you had said weeks, I really would have to start feeling bad!”

James laughs at him, and he opens his mouth to say something, before he realises someone is standing over them, and the two of them look up, and James tries really hard not to let his jaw drop as he realises it’s none other than superstar Scot Gresley, the Flying Scotsman himself.

“Hello Henry, James,” Scot says warmly, and Henry greets him back. James almost asks how they know each other, but glancing between them, it’s the cut of their noses that reminds James of all the drama a few years back. Henry’s got a little Gresley in him, too, that’s right, he always forgets that they’ve met before.

“James, that was some wonderful work out on the floor,” Scot turns to him, and James tries not to flush and gape, and he plays it off as politely as he can. “Would you dance with me?”

James… stares. Blinks once or twice. Henry’s gone a little stiff with surprise beside him, too. Scot extends his hand, still offering a warm smile, and after a second or two, James hesitantly takes it, rising from his seat. Scot’s fingers curl around his hand, but it doesn’t feel as gentle or soothing as Gordon. And as Scot starts to lead James out onto the dance floor, James shoots a look back over his shoulder at Henry, who mouths ‘good luck’ to him as they go.

Before he knows it, James is out on the floor, being lead through steps he knows so well by the Gresley brother he doesn’t know at all. And somehow, Scott is even faster and even lighter on his feet, and James can’t even make small talk for how much he has to concentrate on keeping up – which, notably, does not help his nerves. And Scot keeps this up for the whole quickstep, before they pause as the song changes, James fighting to hide that he needs to catch his breath.

As a slow waltz starts, Scot… relaxes, slows down, and shoots James a wink.

“Just wanted to test how good a teacher my brother is,” he banters. “You’ve both done very well.”

James blinks and swallows hard, before he offers a polite smile of his own.

“Thank you,” he says. “Gordon is a good teacher.”

“…You seem to make him happy.”

James stumbles, now, sheer shock, and his head snaps up to look Scot in the eye. Scot looks back evenly at him, lets James stare. …Scot has Gordon’s brown eyes, but the strength of his sideburns, his eyebrows, the slightly harder set of his face, even his sharper jawline. It’s just… not quite his Gresley.

“I hope you treat him kindly,” Scot continues, his voice dropping, but James flushes and is so glad he’s wearing gloves because he’s gone all clammy. “Gordon deserves something good to happen to him, and you do seem to be a delight.”

“I…” James is – as uncommon as the phenomenon is – lost for words. His old anxiety sweeps through him, makes his knees weak, and he hopes he isn’t shaking.

“I’m not asking you this as a celebrity,” Scot suddenly adds, his expression crumpling with concern as he must read all that straight off James’ face. “I’m asking you this as his brother.”

“I-I… of course,” James says, biting his tongue about telling Scot about how much Gordon didn’t want to talk to him tonight, because if Scot is so concerned about Gordon, then they’d have a better relationship, wouldn’t they? Cinders. And ashes. He wants out. James looks away, and ends up seeing Gordon and Edward, who are surprisingly close by, and they’re both shooting him concerned looks.

James bites his lip now, hoping he doesn’t look as upset as he feels, though he’s never really been good at hiding it. Don’t hurt Gordon? James hasn’t dreamt of it, not now, not anymore. He’s realised Gordon doesn’t really ever talk about his past before Sodor, and that’s telling in itself, isn’t it?

It must be the fact James is being asked this by someone who has probably hurt Gordon in the past is the thing that makes it sting like this. …What? Can Scot see that James is no better? Is that what Scot means by warning him?

Scot says nothing more either. James closes his eyes for a moment, willing the song to end, but suddenly, someone taps his shoulder, and he knows that hand, which is such a strange thing to say, isn’t it? His eyes fly open, because thank god, it’s Gordon and Edward. They must have danced their way through the crowd.

“You remember my friend, Edward, don’t you?” Gordon calls over the hubbub. “He’d love to catch up with you.”

“Of course,” Scot smiles broadly, …the practiced smile, James notes. He turns back to James, then, and squeezes his hand gently.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he says, and it does actually sound earnest, which is nice. It doesn’t soothe James’ nerves, though. “I hope you’ll keep our talk in mind.”

“I will,” is all James says, and he lets Edward take his place with a grateful, if not a little faint, smile.

Gordon practically dances their way off the dancefloor now, and James is more than eager to follow where Gordon leads. They end up pushing and weaving past several of their friends and workmates as they go, and James must still look a little stricken because he gets a few concerned glances as they go.

Gordon ends up leading him outside, and James immediately takes a few big breaths in and out as soon as the cooling evening breeze hits his face. It’s too stuffy, too loud, too much in there.

And as soon as it’s quiet, as they’re in private, as James can breathe, Gordon takes him by the shoulders and turns James so Gordon can look at him.

“What did he say to you?” he asks, and his voice is… surprisingly dark.

“He warned me,” James says, and he does his best not to sound bitter, but he thinks he fails. “He said I better not hurt you because you deserve nice things. A-and he’s right, but it rubbed me the wrong way.”

Gordon scoffs. “Bloody rich, coming from him,” he agrees, before his hands slip down from James’ shoulders, skating down his arms to take James’ shaking hands in his own. “Are you okay?”

“Just needlessly upset,” James manages to smile, though his eyes are a little too bright to sell it. “I come here expecting a good time and I get both a personal dance and a personal threat from the Flying Scotsman. Not your average evening, I’ll admit.”

Gordon squeezes his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, Gordon,” James says, gently squeezing back. “I suppose I was insulted that… that he’d insinuate I’d hurt you on purpose. I care about you far too much for that.”

And-

They both flush at that. That’s the first time either of them has said it plainly.

“That’s… heartening to hear,” Gordon smiles softly at him. “And it only took me turning you into the best ballroom dancer on this island.”

And James laughs. The tension finally draining away, his stomach finally settling. He’s glad Gordon’s holding onto him now, because he feels light, and he wouldn’t want to float away.

“I have to admit it too, then,” Gordon’s practically whispering again, his voice rumbling low, and it makes James shiver. “I’ve… grown quite fond of you, too.”

James steps in a little closer, it just feels right.

“That’s good,” he says.

Then, looking Gordon in the eye then and there, the nerves come crashing back in, and James ducks his head, drops his chin, and starts fiddling with Gordon’s cufflinks instead.

Suddenly, there’s a hand cupping his cheek, and James can’t breathe. Gordon tips his head back up, and smiles at him – all soft and tender, all for James.

“Is this okay?”

“Bah!” James tries to laugh past his dark flush, turning his head away, withdrawing one hand to touch his cheek, he can feel the heat there even through his gloves. “You say that like I haven’t been in love with you for months!”

“Months…?”

James laughs again, bright and embarrassed, before he dares to look back at Gordon. His flush darkens at the painfully fond expression Gordon’s wearing, and James finds himself grinning.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he says instead.

Gordon – several things cross his face in that moment. A flush of his own. Wonder, awe, tenderness, a little shock, and most importantly – Gordon rolls his eyes fondly and leans down to oblige him.

As their lips slot together, James makes a little noise of contentment, and drapes his arms around Gordon’s neck dreamily. Oh, this is good. This is what James has been dreaming about. Officially, this has been the best investment of dancing lessons James has ever made.

When they break apart for air, and James gets his breath back, he finally invites Gordon around tomorrow for those scones he promised however long ago it was, and Gordon has barely any time to accept before James kisses him again.

And… oh, for god’s sake. They pull apart again at the sound of applause from the doorway, and James turns to see… Edward and Henry, Thomas, Percy, god, even Toby and Henrietta, Emily, Rosie, Molly, Daisy, …is that all four of the Little Westerners? And more. It’s far too big a crowd, and James is suddenly wondering if him and Gordon was some kind of soap opera to the wider North-Western Railway, which makes him flush.

Thomas cups his mouth and hoots, “snog him again!”

James goes to yell back before Gordon pulls him in, and James immediately softens, looking into Gordon’s eyes, and he accepts the kiss Gordon gives him, Gordon wrapping his arms around James and dipping him with ease, and James lets Gordon hold his bodyweight as he frees one hand to lovingly flip off the crowd of onlookers.

They once again receive a round of cheers and applause. James doesn’t care, though, not when he can cling to Gordon and Gordon’s lips can brush his own, and Gordon’s breath can dance over his skin, and Gordon’s hands are on him, and this is real, and they’re…

James tears up.

“I love you,” he whispers, too quiet for anyone but Gordon to hear. “I love you. Thank you for putting up with me.”

“It was no bother, little James,” Gordon says, so very fondly, and James shivers again at the way his voice rumbles when he speaks low and quiet. “I love you too.”

It’s a shame the night has to end. James doesn’t want it to end at all. And here, kissing Gordon under the stars, it almost feels like it never has to.

thank you for reading! reblogs are always appreciated and feel free to let me know what you think of this ^-^

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

#ttte #thomas the tank engine #ttte humanized #ttte james #ttte gordon #ttte thomas #ttte edward #ttte flying scotsman #4x5 #romantic 4x5 #ttte shipping #ttte fanfic #ttte fic #ttte fanfiction #this is the first ttte fic ive been able to write in ages <3 feels pretty good man tbh #dj's writing

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p4nishers · 2 years ago

Text

i need content of codywan that just started working together like the first few months where their dynamic is cody barely resisting the urge to strangle his general and obi wan being like. already fucking head over heels for him.

like cody was expecting someone highly impressive based on his records so he obviously is excited to work with him cause his batchmates already met him on kamino and genosis and they all liked him which was, looking back, probably a prank on codys sanity and his bastard gremlin vode were absulately dying laughing at him. anyway so he obviously has high expectations and then this slutty "hello there" mf turns up with no self-preservation whatsoever, a feral demon child of a padawan, half the republic tailing him for every bullshit imaginable and beef with EVERY SINGLE SITH EVER???? WHICH HE SOLVES BY ???? FUCKING FLIRTING WITH THEM????? so you can imagine codys not having a great time.

meanwhile, obi wan daydreams about cody constantly. draws up their wedding invitations before even meeting him. praises him every opportunity he gets. kicks his feet and giggles about codys sarcastic comments ABOUT HIM while being in a room with CODY. stops talking in the middle of his sentence when he spots cody across the room and waves at him with the biggest smile possible. sets up regular sparring practices with the vode just so he MIGHT have an opportunity to be close to cody. labels the time when cody accidentally fell on him because of an explosion and touched his lips for 0.00001 milliseconds as their first kiss and gossips about it to quinlan. calls bant regularly to update her on everything cody does ever. buys every kind of tea and caf he can afford as an excuse to talk to cody and go into his courters. flirts with cody 24/7 and blushes tomato red when cody smirks at him and thinks about it so much he constantly walks into walls and tables and chairs and shinies and. breaks a table after cody stubs his toe into it. passes the fuck out when cody carries him this one (1) time, not bc of blood loss or anything simply too much attraction. constantly searches the force for codys signature even when they're not in the same system. calls him disgustingly sappy petnames in every other sentence. corners all of codys batchmates and asks thousands of questions about cody bc he cannot get them out of the man for the life of him and yes, wolffe, he absulately will die without knowing codys favorite color what kind of question is that. cody smiles once a month and obi wan thanks him everytime. cody hands him back his lightsaber for the first time and he proposes, loudly, cody ignores him completely and walks away. convinces anakin and ahsoka to drop "subtle" hints that he would be a good husband.

and everyone around them is having the time of their life watching codys right eye twitch whenever he's in a room with kenobi long enough while the man himself doesn't take his eyes off the commander during the entire 4 hour meeting and blushes everytime cody looks at him without a fail. cody barely refrains from throwing his datapad at his general when he suggests some self-sacrificing bullshit again.

it's truly like:

obi wan, beaming and eyes possibly gleaming with adoration: hello there, cody. how are you today?

cody, grinding his teeth together: fine, sir. wanted to talk to you about this report cause it's seems to be mistaken. surely, you're not thinking of blowing yourself up just so that TWO man, who are not even in any immediate danger whatsoever, can escape. right?

obi wan, brightening even further bc he loves their daily "banter": oh but of course, my dear, they're valuable men and anyway, i promised anakin he'd get to use the explosives this time.

cody, right eye starting to twitch horribly: right, of course, stupid of me to ask. one more thing, general, you wouldn't decommission me for anything i do, would you, sir ?

obi wan: what– darling, of course not. why would you–

cody: alright then [punches obi wan then walks away]

obi wan:

obi wan: i'm so in love with that man.

it's said that to this day obi wan still giggles in the most inappropriate times about that punch because cody was SO HANDSOME YOU DONT GET IT MACE THE LIGHT HIT HIM JUST RIGHT AND–

anyway codys hatred lasts till obi wan saves rex by putting himself in danger and when they get back, both bruised and bloody but amazingly alive and obi wan smiles at him like he always does with rex draped across his scarred shoulder, something in cody just settles and thinks. oh. oh. so this is what bly was talking about.

#this came to me in a dream #anakin wrinkles his nose and asks himself why would his dad be in love w the most boring mf ever then witnesses that punch and fucking #cheers cause he finally understands yeah the guy is great he once threw an orange at his masters head and obi wan was so busy staring into #his eyes he forgot to deflect and it him fair and square on the forehead and he fell backwards off his chair and everyone turned to cody #shrugged and muttered 'bastard fucking deserved it he know what he did' and fucking walked away. anakin never been prouder of #having a ba'vodu in his LIFE #anyways the point of all of this is thag obi wan is down TREMENDOUSLY and codys is unimpressed af and i need to see that more in fics #codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #clone wars #tcw #sw #star wars #gay #also YOU KNOW i had to add bly YOU KNOW OK I AM TRULY CONVINCED HE WAS THE FIRST CLONE TO FALL IN LOVE AND TALK ABT ROMANTIC LOVE AND ALL #THAT SHIT AND THE VODE BEING SKEPTICAL LIKE IDK MAN MAYBE U WERE DROPPED AS A TUBIE TF ARE U TALKING ABOUT AND BLY INSISTING THAT 'JUST #ASK CODY HE UNDERSTAND' AND CODY BEING ABSULATELY MORTIFIED LIKE 'NO I DO NOT IF HE TRIED ANYTHING ID PUNCH HIM RED COULDN'T STOP ME THIS #TIME I WOUMD SO DO IT DO NOT TEST ME'#yes im in love with cody what about it honestly

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aerodaltonimperial · 5 months ago

Note

Hmmm okay how abt rain for the kiss prompt?

(💚🖤)

It's pouring when the car pulls in: absolutely pouring, the kind of deluge that's only possible during the summer months. The clouds overhead are dark and rumbling, and the headlights click off. There isn't that far between the curb and the picnic structure Darby’s sitting beneath, propped up on the top of one of the peeling wooden tables, but Jack takes the distance at a sprint anyway, shaking his jacket once he's beneath the roof.

"Jesus," he grumbles. "Great weather you made me come out here in."

"What are you, the Wicked Witch?" Darby throws back. "You gonna fucking melt?" He holds his hands up, gesturing at either side. "Whatdya wanna do, have this conversation at the hotel everyone we work with is also staying at?"

"What conversation, exactly, Darby?" Jack asks.

Gonna be like this, huh. "Are we done with this yet?" Darby asks. "The whole beating the shit outta each other thing?"

Jack’s mouth thins. It's hard to see, now, with the beard. "Depends."

"On what, your fucking Elite buddies?" Darby kicks at the bench his boots are propped up on. "They're gonna turn on you."

"They're not."

"They're just using you."

Jack scoffs. "And that was different from what you did how?"

"I wasn't using you," Darby hisses, because ouch. "I was in love with you." He shakes his head. "But this is what you do, isn't it? Destroy the people who love you?"

Jack's face turns so all Darby can see against the backdrop of the wave of rain is his profile. "I don't do that."

"Yeah? How's Hook?"

A pause. Jack’s grinding his teeth together, the tendons in his neck popping. Then, he says, "Is this all you wanted? Cause you don't need me for this. You can rail against the sky on your own."

"Jack," Darby warns.

"No." Finally, Jack looks at him again, and there's fury written across his features. "No, Darby, I'm not staying for this."

"For what, you finally having to listen to what I have to say?" Darby hops off the table. "Can't dodge calls anymore, can you? Now you have to deal with me."

Jack smiles, wan and false. "Only because you've decided to be singularly focused on me. You want people to figure it out, cause you're leaving an awful lot of clues."

"You're the one who didn't want people to figure it out," Darby says, softer. He probably should have pitched it louder with the rain beating against the roof.

Jack sighs, dragging his hands through his hair. "I don't wanna do this, Darby."

"Fine. You know what? I'll back off. I'll leave you and your asshole buddies alone. But you answer me first. Answer me, and I'll disappear." Darby takes a step closer to Jack’s position. "An honest answer, and I'm gone. You'll never have to deal with me again."

"Ask the question, Darby," Jack says, low. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Darby moves until they're face to face, a few inches separating them. It's been awhile since he was this close to Jack without the other trying to kill him; been awhile since he's seen the flecks of hazel in Jack’s eyes.

"Answer honestly," Darby says.

"If it makes you go away, I'll do—"

"Are you happy?"

Jack’s face goes still and tense. His eyes shine. He stares at Darby for long enough that Darby’s fingers twitch at his sides and only then does Jack pull his gaze away, off to the left. The way he always does when he's preparing an answer that doesn't come naturally as the truth.

"Fuck you," Darby mutters. This was a mistake. He should have known better than to think he'd get anything real out of Jack by this point. He shrugs past Jack’s form, dragging their shoulders together, and heads out to the parking lot that's filling with wide puddles.

"Darby!" Jack calls, which Darby ignores. He's almost out from beneath the roof when Jack’s fingers close around his wrist. "Darby!"

"No," Darby growls, spinning on his heel. Jesus, Jack’s got a death grip on his skin, pinching. "Let go."

"No," Jack says.

"I'm gonna fucking make you—"

"No," Jack repeats. "That's my answer."

And that... takes Darby enough by surprise that he can't get his tongue to obey, pushing uselessly against the roof of his mouth. "What?"

"I'm not happy." Jack’s fingers don't relinquish an inch on Darby’s arm.

"Then why are you—"

"I don't know what else to do," Jack admits. "I don't... I don't have anyone else." He grimaces, the corners of his mouth disappearing beneath the bristles of his beard. "I thought you hated me."

"I do," Darby says.

"But you asked me here. To meet."

Darby shrugs, and finally, Jack’s fingers fall away from his skin. "Yeah, but I still hate you."

Jack frowns. "Then why would—"

"Jack, when it comes to you, you name it and I feel it. It's just one of the things in there right now."

"Then you still...?"

"Fuck you, I never stopped." Darby reaches for Jack’s face. Jack doesn't pull away when Darby’s palms slide along his cheeks, and that's not nothing. "You're an asshole."

"Yeah," Jack agrees, a bit lost.

"I'm so fucking mad at you."

Jack inhales, sharp. His eyes never leave Darby’s face. "Yeah."

"I'm gonna kiss you, you dick," Darby says.

"Okay," Jack breathes, and hopefully he didn't want to say anything else, cause Darby’s already smashed their mouths together. Overhead, the rain hits the shelter roof with tiny plinks; against Darby’s lips, Jack sighs, mouth parting as Darby coaxes it apart.

#tag so you don't lose this shit

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ashwhowrites · 2 years ago

Text

Run away with me part 2

Many asked for him to go after her- so here you go!

" I finally did it! I left him. I tried to call you to tell you but you obviously don't want to talk to me. Which is fine, I totally get it. I haven't left too far yet, a part of me is still holding on to you, on to the thought of us. I keep calling because I want to ask you to come with me, super hypocritical of me I know. Asking you to leave with me when I couldn't even do it. I'm leaving for California today. I'm not sure why I'm still calling. I think you not answering my past ten calls should be a sign. I'm sorry Eddie. I really am. I was so scared of what he could do to me or to you. I tried to leave him before, the night we first kissed I told him. He beat me for hours and threatened to kill you if I ever left. I promise I just wanted to keep you safe. If I could have left with you the first time I saw you, I would have. But thank you. You reminded me what it was like to fall in love. To feel loved and desired. That's something he could never take anyway from me. I love you Eddie Munson, goodbye."

Eddie wiped his face as the call ended. Throwing his phone in his pocket and running fast to the break room. Grabbing his wallet, jacket and searching everywhere for his keys.

"looking for these?" Eddie stiffened as he heard Vince from behind him. Turning around as Vince dangled the keys in the air with a smirk.

"you know I had a feeling she was a whore, and she just couldn't wait to prove me right. How long until she threw herself at you? An hour? A week?" Vince growled.

Eddie felt his body heat up in flames. Anger taking control of his thoughts, emotions and actions.

"don't you talk about her. You're a fucking asshole" Eddie spat, no fear as he marched up to him. Chest to chest.

"oh I get it. She opens her legs for you and now you want to protect her? Save her from the big bad guy?"

"Vince shut the fuck up. I'm serious" Eddie growled. He could feel himself losing even more of his cool. " She's not a whore, or a slut, or whatever name you want to call her. She wasn't desired and she went looking for it. And she found a way better man for the job" Eddie spat, shoving Vince a few feet away.

"a better man? If you were so much better, why isn't she with you?" Vince snapped. Eddie knew he wanted a reaction. He doesn't know Eddie knows that he's abusive. Vince just wants him to think that Y/N would never leave Vince, make him believe he was nothing to her but a side fuck.

"I don't need to prove that I'm a better man than you. Her and I both know that already. She's not with me right now because I'm standing here talking to you. She doesn't even like you anymore Vince. I fucked her the night you stood her up. You should have seen the dress she was wearing. So tight and short. I fucked her really good that night. And she tasted amazing. Then I fucked her for three months after that. Sometimes even in the god damn office. You were just a few feet away. Having no idea she was cumming on my cock. She was fucking a real man who knows how to treat her well. " Eddie knew he was playing with fire. He knew he was easily making himself a target.

"FUCK YOU!" Vince screamed as he shoved Eddie against the door

"NO FUCK YOU. WHAT KIND OF COWARD PUTS HIS HANDS ON A WOMEN IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Eddie screamed back. Shoving Vince even harder away from him

"she's fucking lying" Vince growled

"oh yeah? So when she told you she kissed me, you didn't hurt her? Threaten her? Threaten her with my life? Well here I am Vince. You wanted to kill me right? Let's see if you have the balls to even try. Because the second I'm done here, I'm going to her. And you can't stop shit"

Eddie felt the right hand landing on his cheek in seconds. Not wasting a second as he tacked Vince to the floor. Punching him across the face. Gripping his shirt as he brought his face closer to Vince's.

"you have no idea how bad I've wanted to do that. This is for her" Eddie growled. Landing a harder punch to Vince's nose. Enjoying the blood that splattered out.

Eddie didn't stop, he punched until he physically couldn't feel his knuckles anymore.

He was breathing hard and felt totally out of his body. Vince was coughing and spitting out blood under him. No energy to even try to get Eddie off of him.

Eddie went to land one last blow when his phone rang. Eddie looked at Vince one last time, standing up over his body. Kicking him harshly in his gut, pressing his foot into his throat. Ignoring as Vince tried to push off his leg. Eddie reached down and snatched away his keys.

He leaned down one more time, one last time he'll ever see this fucker again.

"if you ever come near her again, I will fucking murder you with my bare hands. " Eddie spit on his face as he released his foot. Not once looking back as he raced out the door.

Eddie didn't even stop at home for shit. He had no suitcase, not even sure if he has money in his wallet, all he knew was he had to go to her.

He raced to the airport, leaving his car in a random parking lot. He threw the keys on the hood. He'd never need it again and he didn't have time to work out the details.

He was racing to some gate. He wasn't sure how much time he had. And he had no idea where she would be.

He was stopped by a security guard

"sir you cannot run here"

"LISTEN YOU NEED TO HELP ME. WHERE IS THE FLIGHT THAT LEAVES FOR CALIFORNIA!" Eddie screamed in a panic. His eyes searching through all the people walking next to him

"sir. We have many flights leaving for California, which one are you on?"

"none. My girl is here and she's leaving and I need to go with. WHATEVER ONE IS LEAVING RIGHT NOW!"

"SIR CALM DOWN! The next flight to California is in two hours. I'm sorry but I think the flight she's on has taken off already"

"no that's wrong. She just called. She's here. I know she is" Eddie pleaded. Terrified that he was too late. He let his anger win and he spent too much time dealing with Vince. Eddie had a feeling that was Vince's plan all along. Purposely make sure Eddie missed the flight.

"sir let's go take a look at the next flight and see if she's in the area."

Eddie nodded and followed the guard. His eyes still searching as every girl walked past. He was praying to any God that he'd see her. That he wasn't too late.

But as he reached the gate, and her face wasn't anywhere in the crowd. He knew he was too late. He had three weeks to pick up the phone. Three weeks to just give her the chance to explain. Three weeks he ignored her. And now he was out of time.

She gave him three weeks and he didn't try until the last call.

She had a feeling he wasn't going to come. She didn't blame him for it. He was getting tossed around in her life and didn't feel like he was a set plan. She hated that she made him have to walk away. That she left him no choice but to leave her.

Pathetically she stretched those three weeks out as long as she could. She wanted to leave the state right away, but wanted to wait to see if he would change his mind. He never did and now she sat on a plane to California, alone.

Eddie raced back out of the airport. Sprinting for his car. The gods above must have looked out for the idiot because his keys were still there. He grabbed them fast and jumped in his car.

He didn't make the flight

But he sure as hell wasn't giving her up now

He would drive every mile and lose every gallon of gas before anything else stopped him from making it to her.

Eddie had no idea how long it took to get to California. A few days? He stopped a few times to sleep, barely eating and refusing to take any bathroom breaks until he felt the need to explode.

But once he made it into California all he had to do was call her. He had to pray that she would pick up. He wouldn't blame her if she never did.

He sat on the hood of his car. Tapping his foot as he heard the phone ring and ring

"Eddie?"

"hey babygirl, where are we staying?" He asked

"I'm sorry what?" She asked

"I'm in California. Did you really think I wasn't coming after you?" He teased

"are you serious?"

"send me the address and I'll show you how serious I am"

She stared out the window of her small hotel for what seemed like hours. Waiting for his family car to pull into the parking lot.

She felt herself smile as the familiar car pulled in front of her door. Rushing to it to open it, not even giving him a second to make it out of his car fully, she ran in his arms.

He easily caught her, leaning against the car door as he hugged her back. Squeezing her tightly.

"I can't believe you came" she sobbed into his arms

"of course I did baby. I'm so sorry I missed the flight. I had to deal with Vince" he snapped. Even the name made his blood boil

"you what?" She asked, pulling away. Now noticing his bruised eye and split lip

"oh my God Eddie!" She held his face softly. Tracing over his bruised eye softly, her heart cracked when he flinched

"should've seen the other guy" he tried to joke but she didn't crack a smile.

"I'm fine baby. Trust me" he smiled, kissing her lips softly.

"are you really staying?" She spoke softly

"yeah baby. Just you and me now"

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff

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cloveroctobers · 2 years ago

Note

can you do head canons on what it would be like to date Layla keating? Preferably female reader but gender neutral is also good! It’s okay if you don’t want to ofc!

HEADCANONS DATING LAYLA ・❥✧.* ・❥・

A/N: why not? It’s nothing too long but there’s some cute moments in there. I think present Layla…like end of season 5 Layla would actually make a good girlfriend once she knows what she wants that is! But let me take that back, most of the previous relationships kinda did her dirty so she was somewhat valid. Anyways we’re talking about Layla with a fem! Interest here and I wrote this pretty quick which is why I love HCS so thanks for this request, hope you like it!

・❥✧.*・❥・・❥✧.*・❥・・❥✧.*・❥・・❥✧.*

It takes a minute for the relationship to kick off since Layla’s been lost in love before while also feeling like her previous relationships didn’t value her as a person or really get her they way that they should.

With you, the love was patient and kind and Layla’s actually the first to initiate your very first kiss.

She’s horrified by the impulse she’s pulled and a stuttering mess, “oh my god, I can’t believe I just did that, especially when you were just mid-sentence—I—I don’t even know what that was—

“Yeah, how rude.” You comment, lips swollen and Layla almost appears as if she wants to melt into a puddle and crawl away like a 90s cartoon, which makes a smile spread over your own lips, “Nobody should ever cut me off when I’m trying to show you Rihanna’s iconic pregnancy photos but—if it’s only by your lips, I’ll let it slide Keating, so come here.”

And now she’s shocked because you’re actually kissing her!

You establish what the relationship is going to be that same day after the first kiss, not making any assumptions and always laying it out on the table.

The communication between you two? *Chef’s kiss*

Patience is all grins and prideful when she gains knowledge of the relationship when you stop by with lunch one day, “you bitches! Am I the first one out of the Vortex to know that this is actually a thing?”

You did greet Layla with a kiss and a cup of her round face that she almost forgot Patience was even in the studio (she was practically melting by your touch) with you so yeah!

Layla’s all starry eyed as she rests her neck into the palm of her hand, lounging on the couch beside a curled up you, your hand on her thigh, smiling.

“Yup! But just know, she’s mine and I don’t plan on sharing her with you, or Coop.” Layla warns, not daring to envision a break up with you and the glare she sends Patience let’s the raspy girl raise her hands in surrender.

When coop does find out she’s all for third wheeling dates, hanging out with you guys—which is fine sometimes but ofc you also love your alone time as well.

Layla is the protective gf, someone staring at you weird in public? she makes sure to stay close and block you from their eye sight.

Taser is never too far from her reach, believe that!

If someone upset you? She’s ready to call them up and cuss them out/read them to filth or locate their whereabouts? She’s pulling up, might even throw a restraining order in their face—if it’s harassment status because hello business woman about her shit who doesn’t play!!! especially when it comes to you!

She loves your nose kisses, especially if you’re shorter than her.

Staying over at her place? She likes cold sheets and room while you prefer warm no matter the weather in California (yeah it still doesn’t make much sense to her either, maybe you’re anemic) and it’s no different in her bed. So ofc you’re gonna use her long legs as body heat.

She also likes playing footies and sleeps with fuzzy socks on?

“Layla! Why are the fuzzies in the bed?” Your eyes are wide with bewilderment while Layla chuckles, replying to one last text message before placing it back on the night stand and turns around so you’re face to face.

“Is there a problem?” “Yeah! Who goes to bed with socks on?” “Your girlfriend.” Layla blinks, waiting for you to challenge her more. “I think we should break up.” “Is the break up in the room with us right now?” Basically she knows you’re not going anywhere and will learn to love her quirks, which you already do and it’s likewise on her end so the both of you fall into laughter.

Lots of pillowtalking. Y’all love to just talk with each other about any and everything. If you get to do it laying down somewhere? You’ll be the first two to sign on the line!

Queens of taking naps as dates for 10 points Gryffindor!

She’s the big spoon! Occasionally she’ll let you spoon her if she’s under the weather or having a bad mental health day.

You do have to remind her to take breaks now that she’s reaching big heights as a record producer.

When she’s really stressed out about a track or anything circulating around a certain artist, you take her mind elsewhere for a mental break for at least an hour—usually giving her some sense of direction on how to handle the problem.

Both great at problem solving but mainly Layla is—you’re always team “I’ll figure it out later!” While Layla’s mind is always running until it reaches the edge and slamming right into a brick wall—but it works for her somehow.

The both of you enjoy board games with Layla liking games like scrabble, puzzles, and monopoly and you like clue, LIFE, and card games. If the both of you are on the same team with the rest of the vortex? You’re always the top two couple that’s hard to beat.

Lots of hand holding and chin pressed into your shoulder.

She likes having you as her passenger princess, enjoying the thought of you being beside her and she looks just as gorgeous whipping her ride around with ease, hand in yours.

She’ll spoil you with shopping sprees and always wants your opinion when she’s trying on clothes. She loves trying on clothes while you hate it but do it because she hates the return process since most high-end stores have shitty policies.

Idk I can see Layla getting involved with someone who wants to go into the medical field so while she’s got her career figured out, she’ll help you study for all your lab exams.

“I can’t wait to have my own personal Cristina Yang…or are you more of a Miranda Bailey?” Layla wanders while you just laugh tiredly at the dining table, head collapsed along your arm.

Definitely a supportive gf: will encourage you with clues that she’ll relate to any of your obsessions to help you get the answer right, massages, kisses, and strip teases.

Loves you in her clothes but she actually steals more of yours.

Always has you help her curl the back of her hair with her curling wand when she wants to wear it curly.

Starts wearing it more that way when you tell her how pretty in curls she looks, which you notice.

You’re the most active gf out of the two (you were a complete gym rat in high school and gave the boys a run for their money. You were also on the volleyball team back then and loved the whole gains aspect and working on your arms) and layla tends to only turn to exercise when she’s having a bad day.

You’re not as deep into the gym now thanks to declaring biomedical sciences as your major but you kept your workouts to at least three times a week and doing at home workouts every now and then.

You’ll have to drag Layla to take hikes with you—she rather do the hikes since the scenery is quite beautiful and you in cycling shorts?! is always a great sight to witness but 🤫

She prefers hot yoga or Pilates tbh.

The always busy couple who never find a reason to be bored and definitely keep each other entertained.

Want to go on a road trip or night drive? Layla only questions if it’s going to be a 24 hr thing or a couple of days so she can pack accordingly and make sure things will be handled at the studio in her absence. Any chance she gets to spend one on one time with you? She’s doing it.

You come up with spontaneous adventures, Layla just needs to know how far and the weather so she can prepared.

Whatever she wears, you’ll be sure to tell her how much you love something on her.

Words of affirmation are big in this relationship.

I do feel like she’s more physically affectionate and you may be more verbal, perhaps that has to do with your professions/desires with Layla always having her hands in music and you constantly thinking out loud when it comes to the sciences and simple human nature—if we’re looking into it deeply.

You’re always reading world science articles to her btw and even if she doesn’t quite get it…she listens just like you do when she lets you listen in on the beats that get sent over to her by the engineer.

She doesn’t mind PDA at all, most of the time she’s always the one touching you and finding some way to touch you unconsciously.

Layla’s never felt like this before, a fresh love that didn’t have to feel complicated, questionable, or suffocating. She could be herself around you and knew she was falling in love whenever she would daze off just staring at you while you talked or just simply listening to the sound of your voice.

“You’re my favorite person, I hope you know that.” Layla finds herself saying on one of your many drives.

You pause in your balled up side of the car, “I’m starting to believe you…why else would you listen to me damage my vocal cords to a Whitney Houston song?”

Layla snorted, “…you have a nice tone.”

“Sure but I’m no Whitney.”

“You can be my Whitney. Because I’ll always wanna dance with you, my somebody who loves me.” She lightly sings

Gagging at Layla, you slap her thigh, “the cheese! I can’t take it!”

“Oh you love it! Don’t you wanna dance! Say you wanna dance!”

You wiggle your shoulders and flip your hair forward and over your face making Layla whoop and snap her fingers, twinkles in her dark eyes.

Laughing you smooth your hair back and reach forward to meddle with the staticky radio before looking for the aux cord.

The silence was just as comforting with the both of you driving down the dirt road, side by side but it was even better singing the lyrics to songs declaring your love for each other.

A love that’s worth it, deserves to be screamed together into the sky, to be felt and genuine

and you were sure a love with Layla Keating was just that.

・❥✧.* ・❥・・❥✧.* ・❥・・❥✧.* ・❥・・❥✧.*

Continue along with my spring anthology series here.

#all american #all american cw #requests #request #layla keating #layla keating x reader #layla keating x f! reader #patience robinson #tamia cooper #the vortex #spring writing #greta onieogou #queued

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