#layla has an ease to her

[sunskate]

Ah I see, just bad luck for Layla and Alex then - probably would’ve had a smaller points gap to 1st had they skated in the final group. Is this their last year of junior eligibility or can they still skate juniors next season?

in the end, they laid it down and made it so the order didn't matterrrrrr 💙☺️

i feel for Nguyen/Giang and also Fournier/Zhu who had a chance at a worlds spot, but they both did really well especially being brand new teams, and Nguyen/Giang will be in Taipei

Layla and Alex are only 17/18 at the moment, so they have one more year of eligibility - Canadian seniors is so crowded, i'd guess they're going to stay junior? we'll see

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls.

Professor!Terrence x Aaliyah

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student.

Part Two

The calming effects of the incense burning within his Acadian–style home in Baton Raq. Lauryn Hill playing from a vinyl record was enough to ease his mind after grading over thirty midterm papers. Terry shut his laptop and released a soft sigh. He reached up with his long fingers, taking off his glasses. The burning at the corners of his blue-grey eyes caused him to rub. He was exhausted and in need of a long vacation somewhere tropical after this semester ended.

He pushed away from his elegant, black oak wood desk to stand, stretching his long legs and flexing his quads. Terry wore a boxy–fit graphic T-shirt with a photo of Nina Simone printed on the front and thigh–hugging drawstring, black shorts. His feet covered in long, black Adidas socks led him towards the door to his home office. He would have stepped on the tail of his British Brown Shorthair cat if he hadn’t spotted him creeping between his legs as he walked.

“Orion, watch out…”

The cat slowly moved away, staring up at Terry with its golden eyes.

His stomach grumbled. Terry remembered that he’d had leftover red beans and rice. He walked into his spacious kitchen, opening a cabinet to grab a soup bowl and then he strolled over to his silverware drawer, grabbing a large spoon. Ex–Factor faded in the background while he scooped the last of the food into his bowl. He paused, snapping his fingers in remembrance of the honey butter cornbread he’d made to eat with it.

After warming his food, Terry didn’t bother sitting in his dining room. He leaned over the counter and tucked into his food, appreciative sounds between bites mixed with his spoon scraping the side of the bowl the only noise. His tongue slipped out to catch a few crumbs from his lips after scarfing down the last of his cornbread. Terry shook his head and rubbed his belly as he cleared his mess.

“Damn good,” He muttered while walking towards his sink.

He accepted the burn of his muscles from his morning workout while crouching down to grab some surface disinfectant from beneath his sink. That let him know he went hard in the gym. His tongue smoothed over his teeth to get rid of food while he used a Bounty paper towel to clean. His eyes flicked to the window in his kitchen when he’d heard loud voices passing by his home.

The Apple Watch on his wrist with a stainless steel band alerted Terry to a phone call. He headed back to his office and reached over his desk to grab it from the charger.

“Wassam Bitch!”

Terry released a boisterous, deep laugh. All his teeth showing.

“Cousin! You good?” Terry replied.

“Chillin’ fam. Just left Unc house…”

“He straight?”

“You know how he do. Was in the garden wit’ his woman picking tomatoes and shit. I had to break it to ‘em that he ain’t invited tonight. HE CAN’T COME!”

“Mike, don’t do Unc like that…he wanna be there to support his son.”

“No old heads, TJ. We discussed this. I don’t want him getting a heart attack seeing all that buku ass clapping.”

Terry snickered with his phone to his ear as he made his way into his living room. He wanted to break in his new furniture.

“Layla snoopin’ ‘round the house. She heard about the strippers…”

“Thought you said she was cool about it?”

“She is. But ya know…”

Terry made a face on the other end of the line. He knew how his cousin could get. Tonight is indeed about fun, but if Mike messed up, Layla wouldn’t take him back a second time. Out of all the men attending, Terry is the most levelheaded. Majority of the men in his family and Mike’s friends were a bunch of crazy motherfuckers. He already knows how tonight is gonna turn out.

“No fuckin’ up, Cousin.” Terry stated.

“Already, Marine.” Mike joked.

——

She did a slow two–step with a roll of her hips in a sinuous manner to the late, great Aaliyah – she was honored to share her name – and Tank.

Can I come over? (Can I)

Come over (Stop by)

Come over (To see you)

Come over (Tonight?)

Can I come over? (Can I)

Come over (Get with you?)

Come over (I just wanna)

Come over (Be with you, baby)

Can I come over? (Can I)

Come over (Stop by)

Come over (To see you)

Come over (Tonight?)

Can I come over? (Can I)

Come over (Get with you?)

Come over (Just wanna)

Yeah (Be with you, baby)…

Bonnet on her head, a tank top that’s way too cropped and showing off under–boob with skimpy hot pink boy shorts covered her curvy frame. Aaliyah had just finished making her bed, freshly laundered sheets feeling cozy beneath her hands as she spread out the wrinkles. The next song on her Slow Jamz playlist was Ciara–Promise. Aaliyah tapped the side of her mouth in thought while staring at the neatly stacked money on her side table. She didn’t feel like digging for her mini safe tucked in the back of her closet, but she needed to put the money somewhere safe.

She made almost three grand. Aaliyah really enjoyed herself a week ago at the Fire Station. She craved that attention and excitement. Doing content from home was great, but to show out in person? Oh…it stroked her so good. She was so damn ecstatic that she came home and rubbed one out with her fingers deep in her pussy. Making a man react the way he does to her literal being just ignited something in her.

Aaliyah placed the money in her safe and organized her closet. After that, she grabbed herself a bowl of green grapes and crawled into bed. She popped a grape into her mouth while watching re–runs of P–Valley on mute, eyes reading the subtitles. She already knew what was going on, just something to distract her. She rocked her body in bed to Donell Jones–This Luv, lip syncing and snapping her fingers.

She wondered what Professor Richmond was up to…

Aaliyah kissed her teeth at her lingering thoughts. This week was filled with tension. She walked into that classroom on Wednesday, hauling her school bag and a pep in her step. She dressed in skater jeans and a tight Ed Hardy T-shirt with a gray hoodie unzipped.

“Today class, we’ll discuss morality…”

He had a tiny sculpture of Aristotle in his hand, long, manicured fingers grasping it firm. Today, he wore a perfectly fitting, short sleeve, mock neck black shirt with charcoal grey slacks and black loafers. The glasses on his face reflected the light perfectly whenever he moved his head. It was something about his eyes today that just…drew Aaliyah in. They seemed brighter.

She propped her elbow on her desk and rested her chin in her hand. That foot started to bounce beneath her desk, and when his eyes met hers, she had to turn away to simmer down the butterflies. Something embarrassing happened in the middle of his lecture. She forgot to turn her ringer off, the lyrics to P*$$Y Fairy playing.

Don't be surprised, baby, it's just me (Just me)

Don't be surprised, boy, when I bust it wide

I hypnotize you with this pussy (Pussy)

Now you feel like you can fly—

“Sorry! Sorry…”

Aaliyah silenced her phone and with a sheepish smile she allowed her eyes to roam the class, catching on to a few snickers. She felt heat creeping over her honey skin. Aaliyah bashfully tucked hair behind her ear, and then her sultry gaze connected with Professor Richmond’s.

He had one brow quirked up and his eyes were unblinking and concentrated on her firm. He was the first to slowly pull his eyes away before clearing his throat to finish speaking. That look in his eyes…

After class, Aaliyah approached his desk to drop off an in class assignment. She left her hoodie at her desk. Terry was standing there, propping himself up against his desk with his fingertips. He allowed his eyes to scan her body. She paid attention to the way his piercing eyes fixated on the exposed skin of her midriff. A quick circular motion of his eyes on her breasts caused her to part her lips, the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

“Here?” Aaliyah pointed to the pile of untidy papers.

“Yes.” Terry replied with a slower tone.

She slipped it there, patting the top of it. Terry clenched his jaw, his eyes returning to his laptop.

“Have a good day…”

He couldn’t stop himself from standing at his full height. He exhaled a long breath, his eyes trapping her.

“Yes, Ma’am. You as well.”

Aaliyah gave him one final once over, her eyes doing a double take to the veins in his arms…

Damn…

She walked away, the silence in the lecture hall unnerving. Terry crossed his arms in front of him and rocked back and forth on his heels. He lowered his head and shook it from side to side with a smirk. Aaliyah made her way out of the room, itching to look back and wave, but instead she looked back and gave him one final word.

“Sorry about my ringtone…I know it was inappropriate…”

Terry licked his lips, “Don’t even remember the lyrics.”

They chuckled, Aaliyah finally leaving the class.

——

Stickin' to the code, all these hoes for the streets

I put it in her nose, it's gon' make her pussy leak

Pussy niggas told, ain't gon' wake up out they sleep

You can't hear that switch, but you can hear them niggas scream…

That imposing beat had the house jumping off. Like That lyrics bounced off the walls, hyping up the room full of men that came out to support Mike.

Got your girl in this bitch, she twirlin' on the dick (he was once a thug, he was, he -)

(He was once a thug, he was, he -)

I got syrup in this bitch, turn up in this bitch (he was once a thug, he was, he -)

And it's 'bout the 'Ercs in this bitch, get murked in this bitch (he was once a thug, he was, he -)…

Terry wore an oversized tank top in beige with the sides cut low, giving you a peek at the muscles in his biceps and obliques. He gave himself a fresh line up and moisturized his low curls. Straight fit, light wash jeans hugged his lower half and he wore a pair of crisp, All White’s. Terry bopped his head precisely to the heavy bass, green solo cup in his hand between his lips. The gold Cuban link hanging from his neck matched the gold Cuban chain on his left wrist and the gold band of his Apple Watch on his right wrist.

The front door opened, more handsome black men pouring in and greeting everyone. Terry saluted the ones he recognized and shook hands firmly with those he didn’t. Terry knew the lyrics to Kendrick’s verse word for word. When the ‘Big Three’ line came up, everyone chimed in. Smile on his face, Terry headed towards the kitchen to fill his cup and mingle with some family he hadn’t seen in a while. He couldn’t believe his little cousins were old enough now to attend functions like this.

“This nigga freaked out already!”

One of Terry’s little cousins, Malik, who just turned 21 sucked his teeth at everyone laughing. Terry did notice the way he kept checking the door for the strippers every time it opened.

“They ain’t here yet, nigga!”

Mike entered the kitchen with enthusiasm and shades on. Terry caught the smell of weed on him when he approached his side. Terry picked up his trucker hat to clear some space from the kitchen island for more liquor bottles. A big ass bottle of Hennessy caught Terry’s eye. He was currently sipping on jungle juice.

“Got that shit that turn you into a beast, TJ. Real King Kong shit!” Mike shouted over the loud music.

“I see you came through,” Terry held the neck of the Hennessy bottle firm, veins in his arms popping out.

“We about to see TJ in rare form tonight!”

Terry shook his head at the men surrounding him all agreeing. He refused to let it get to him. He wasn’t the same tall, lanky kid from Red Stick. Wasn’t the same teenager who got picked on in the schoolyard for being too quiet or too nerdy. He was a grown ass man with intellect and vocabulary beyond the slang words and a muscle strength so powerful he could take down an entire room full of wannabe gangstas. But, he didn’t wear that on his sleeve. He remained stoic with his strong and silent presence. Tonight, however, he’d let himself enjoy what was to come. He had his money ready. He just hoped they were deserving of it.

He was a hard man to impress.

“Make yourself a stronger drink, Cousin. We got all night….”

Terry was more of a bourbon guy. But there wasn’t any around and he refused to bring his good shit for everybody to help themselves to. He poured Hennessy into his cup and took a sip. It was cool.

He sauntered towards the spread of party food they had catered. The smells made his mouth water. He grabbed himself a plate and piled fried chicken, smoked turkey greens, gator bites, mac and cheese, and whatever else he could fit. Today was his cheat day.

Terry ate his food while standing, catching bits and pieces of conversation here and there. On one end of the room, a group of men, most likely Mike’s friends, were laughing at whatever was on one of their phones. Across from him in the kitchen, there’s a debate about which they’d prefer: no ass and big titties or a big ass and no titties. Terry snorted. Childish behavior.

Tha Biz-, the Bizness

Uh, I like a long-haired, thick redbone

Open up her legs, then filet mignon that pussy

I'ma get in and on that pussy

If she let me in, I'ma own that pussy…

Terry didn’t care much for the mac and cheese. Too dry and not enough flavor. Every thing else was delicious. He tossed his plate and excused himself to the bathroom. He climbed the stairs to the guest bathroom instead of the basement because he was informed that the basement was reserved for the ladies who plan to entertain them tonight.

He relieved himself and flushed before washing his hands. He checked himself in the mirror making sure he hadn’t stained his new shirt.

“Ladies Ladies Ladies!”

Terry could overhear the commotion downstairs.

“The basement is all yours…hey, Keisha, lookin’ good…nice to meet you…don’t worry, the groom ain’t here right now he went out back…”

That sounded like Mike’s best man and bestfriend, Cliff.

“Take your time ladies…don’t rush the process…we won’t complain TRUST ME…”

Terry left the bathroom and walked down the stairs at the same moment they closed the basement door behind them. His eyes that appeared blue–green in the dim light scanned the room, taking in the eager and impatient looks on the faces of men ready to throw cash.

“Fuck you mean they gotta get ready? Type of shit is this here?” One dude complained.

“They work at Crazy Horse, Bruda, you know how them dancers are.”

“Busted and dusted,” Another replied with a drunk cackle.

Terry held up the wall, cup in hand, tripping off of the conversation.

“Kiesha thick ass can get this anytime, anywhere…but that one that walked in last? Man…”

The man that spoke, short in height with a bald fade and teeth lined with gold caught Terry’s eyes and shook his head as he blew air out his cheeks. Terry smirked into his cup.

“She the truth. I wanna see what she do…”

“She one a ‘dem pretty natural ones…rare.”

That interested Terry. He paid closer attention.

“Probably taste like sugar.”

“Im’a put my tongue in it!”

Cliff cracked the door to the basement. He stuck his head between the opening and shouted down the steps. Terry could hear him communicating with one of the dancers. He shut the door quickly and motioned for his friend to pause the music.

“I’m a grab Mike. It’s about to go down.”

He did the Birdman hand rub as he rushed away to collect the groom. The room started to flood with the others, all too anxious to get a glimpse and participate in the fun. Terry pat his back pocket, feeling the folded stack of cash he’d brought. He had more tucked away in his wallet just in case. Mike entered the room cross–faded. He moved with unsteady legs and a bottle in hand, the contents almost spilling onto the carpet.

Terry grabbed the bottle and sat it down on a table.

“AIGHT! ITS ABOUT TO JUMP OFF YA’LL READY?!!!”

Someone activated the strobe lights and the room flooded with ultraviolet light. The melanin in the room looked a deep blue beneath the black lights. Terry knocked the rest of his drink back and sat his cup down next to the Hennessy bottle Mike was holding. From the corner of his eye, he could see someone carrying a chair out from the dining room. They forced Mike to sit, Terry laughing at his cousin’s goofy smile.

Ear Drummers

Strippers

Mike WiLL Made-It

Bands a make her dance

Bands a make her dance…

The door opened and Terry locked his eyes forward, cupping his mouth and howling along with the others.

——

Aaliyah couldn’t control her indecisive habits if she tried. She’d spent majority of her day into the early afternoon cleaning and now her room looked like a disaster. It was nearing eight and she still couldn’t decide what to wear! Keisha was gonna kill her ass…

Aaliyah flipped through her clear tote filled with old outfits from her stripper days. She was about to give up and settle for a neon green fishnet set until she spotted a bright pink holster top with matching bottoms. There were hot pink fishnets with the back cut out for her ass that she could pair with it. Oh! pink pasties over the nipples would spice it up real nice. Aaliyah remembered her seven inch stiletto heels with rhinestone fringes. Perfect. She quickly grabbed it and worked as fast as she could, glancing at her phone.

So far, Keisha hadn’t called her. Aaliyah slipped off her satin, black robe and flung it over the chair situated in front of her vanity. She already applied her body oil with the aroma of fresh peaches blended perfectly with a hint of the tropics creating this rich, sweet, sultry scent. Her favorite fairy dust body powder clung to her soft skin and glittered in the light like diamonds.

Aaliyah tied the last tight bow on her bottoms before sitting to slip on her heels. She decided to go with a light beat, not wanted to wear anything too heavy and end up sweating it all off. She tapped the screen of her phone and with twenty minutes left, she swooped her edges and sprayed oil sheen over her two, long braids. Her French tip fingers smoothed down as much frizz as she could to keep it neat.

Situated in front of her body length mirror, Aaliyah admired the final look. Lastly, she tugged on a white, bodycon dress with a sway of her hips.

Buzz Buzz…Buzz Buzz…

“Hello?”

“I’m outside. Diamond and Precious is in the back. You ready?”

“Yeah,” Aaliyah grabbed a pair of black, thong flip flops, “heading out now.”

She ended the call and with one final sweep of her room, she turned off the lights and headed straight for the door. Stanley cup in the crease of her arm, she locked her front door. Aaliyah angled her body, descending the stairs carefully. She didn’t want a repeat of what happened a year ago. She sprained her ankle so bad she couldn’t dance for two months.

Kiesha rolled the window down to her Hellcat, smoke billowing out. Aaliyah rolled her eyes. She did not want weed smell lingering on her. Keisha leaned over and opened the door since Aaliyah’s hands were full. She climbed in and shut the door, Keisha not waiting a moment longer before hitting the gas hard. Aaliyah looked over at Keisha with a mug on her face while her friend laughed.

She noticed that she was the only one ready. Aaliyah looked back at Diamond and Precious. Redbone Diamond had her bubble gum pink frontal pinned up while holding a Hello Kitty compact mirror as steady as she could, drawing on her thin eyebrows. She had on a matching camouflage, short set. Aaliyah recognized that set from Fashion Nova. Her eyes moved towards Precious. Precious was a tiny girl. Petite and spunky. She had a buz cut dyed blonde. She was wearing her outfit beneath a tube dress while puffing on a fat blunt. Her eyes squinted at Aaliyah before giving her a toothy grin filled with braces.

“How ya’ll been?” Aaliyah asked.

“Good!” Diamond replied.

“Straight! How ‘bout you?” Precious said.

“Been good. Dealing wit’ school. Good to see ya’ll. Ready for tonight?”

“Can’t wait!”

“Turnt!” Diamond shouted before snapping her mirror shut, “Pass that here…”

Aaliyah relaxed into her seat.

“Girl, you told me to be ready by eight. Why the fuck you ain’t dressed?”

Keisha reached back, accepting the blunt while one–hand whipping the car.

“Cliffy told me we could use the basement if we needed to. I brought all the goods just in case. The coochie spray for Diamond—”

“BITCH don’t get hurt!”

Aaliyah chuckled.

“You got your LED plug?” Keisha asked Aaliyah excitedly.

Aaliyah dragged her upper teeth over her bottom lip with a mischievous smile.

“Nasty bitch….lemme see it.”

Aaliyah leaned her body against the door so her meaty buns could face Keisha. She lifted her white bodycon dress over her cakes and with one hand, she spread one hefty cheek. There, buried in her ass, was the LED plug. It lit up like a pair of sketchers. Keisha giggled.

“Girrrrrlllllllllll I told Cliff about you…”

Aaliyah fixed herself and straightened up in her seat.

“Keisha, don’t set me up with no nigga. No more of that shit.” Aaliyah retorted.

“I didn’t set you up. He remembers you from Crazy Horse. When he used to show up on Tuesdays…”

“Keish, not that nigga…he ugly and his breath stank. You know exactly what to do to piss me off!”

Diamond and Precious cackled in the back seat.

“His dick big.” Keisha replied as if that would change Aaliyah’s mind.

“Bitch, big dick, little dick, a dick made out of the purest gold if phat ma don’t get wet and this heart don’t skip a beat I’m not finna give you my time. That shit is crazy…”

“You shake ass for an ugly nigga though.” Keisha argued back.

“THEY PAYIN’ ME! Girl…” Aaliyah kissed her teeth, fixing her lash extensions because the windows are rolled down, “How far out?”

“Ten minutes.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way while blasting a bounce mix. Keisha’s Hellcat slowed to a stop in front of a cute little house with a lengthy drive way. Kiesha parked on the grass and killed the ignition. She gave the blunt one final hit before tossing it out the window. The ladies exited the car and before the went inside, Keisha had an idea for them to take some pics and video before heading in. Aaliyah acted as photographer and videographer while Diamond, Precious and Keisha did their thing.

When they finished, Keisha begged Aaliyah to do a video. Aaliyah scoped out the area and yanked her dress off, darting to stand next to a white SUV parked haphazardly on the front lawn. Keisha moved her phone in different angles, Aaliyah staring back at her with a hand on the car and her ass moving like a tidal wave.

“Damn, mama…show out!”

Diamond and Precious clapped their hands in time to Aaliyah’s twerking.

“Cool it nah,” Aaliyah shooed them off before putting her dress back on, “You see that?”

The other ladies followed her gaze through the windows of the home. They all gawked at the amount of men throughout that house.

“Dayummmmm…we leaving chubby tonight. Money, money, money!” Diamond said.

This was Aaliyah’s vibe. Although she had a ball at the fire station, nothing compared to a room full of black men. She grinned beautifully and squealed. They grabbed their things and Aaliyah was last to trail behind because she forgot her thong flip flops. Keisha knocked on the door boldly and it opened two seconds later.

It was Cliff.

He hugged Keisha and kissed her cheek. Cliff did the same greeting for Diamond and Precious. However. He held his hand out for Aaliyah. Her sultry eyes flicked to Keisha then back at Cliff. She accepted his hand and he guided her inside softly, his eyes scanning her body.

“Liyah Alllure…mmm, mmm, mmm…”

“Hey you,” Aaliyah titled her head in greeting with a sweet smile.

“Still just as gorgeous…happy you could join us tonight.”

“Happy to be here…”

“Ladies Ladies Ladies!”

Some dude with a skinny frame and a gold grill greeted them. They all said hello, ignoring the men in the room eye–fucking them. Aaliyah could suffocate from their stares alone.

“The basement is all yours…hey, Keisha, lookin’ good…nice to meet you…don’t worry, the groom ain’t here right now he went out back…Take your time ladies…don’t rush the process…we won’t complain TRUST ME…”

Aaliyah remained close behind Precious as they disappeared into the basement. The door shut behind her with a soft click. They entered the finished basement and Aaliyah excused herself to the rest room. She’d been drinking water all day and needed to go before doing a bunch of dancing. Keisha got dressed while Precious and Diamond helped each other out on jewelry. Aaliyah exited the bathroom in just her pink, outfit with rhinestones to match her heels.

“How we goin’ in? One by one or?” Diamond questioned.

She was dressed in neon green. A full body fishnet outfit with black stilettos. Aaliyah was happy she decided on the ensemble she had on.

“One by one. I’m supposed to give the lap dance. After that, ya’ll come out. Simple.” Keisha said.

The intro to Bandz A Make Her Dance started playing.

“That’s me!” Keisha stood up. She was wearing a white cowgirl hat with a fringe bikini set to match and white stilettos. She reminded Aaliyah of Megan The Stallion with her blue hair cascading down her back.

Keisha climbed the stairs and when the door opened, howling and yelling pierced her ears. The other three ladies shared a look with each other and laughed.

“I’m a need some liquor.” Aaliyah said.

——

Terry’s bottom lip sat between his teeth to contain his laughter.

When the first girl entered, going by the name of Keisha, he loved her vibrant personality and spit fire attitude. Keisha had the men in that room foaming at the mouth. She sashayed over to Mike with that brazen attitude and revealing body. Ain’t no way in hell she could fit that white bikini set and that was the point. Terry’s brows rose in surprise at Keisha straddling Mike. Her bountiful curves almost swallowed him while he was in that chair. Big ol’ ass and fat titties. That country thick you got lost in.

Terry grunted when she turned and made that big, fucking ass clap in Mike’s face. His thick brows knitted together and he shared a look with a friend before chuckling. Mike didn’t know what do to. He kept his hands to his sides, grasping the back legs of the chair he was stuck in.

“All that ass, Mike!”

“You better get it in while you can!”

“Suffocate that nigga, Keisha!”

“You good down there groom?” Keisha teased.

Money flew in the air when she plucked her top off. When them titties dropped, Terry’s large hand stuffed into his back pocket. He didn’t make it rain yet, he was waiting for Keisha to do something special. The body was crazy, but where’s the tricks?

“Throw that shit, TJ.” His friend nudged him with his elbow.

Terry ignored him.

Keisha stood up and went down to the floor in front of Mike in a split. She made those twin globes dribble and that was good enough to earn some of his cash. Terry leaned over the back of Mike’s chair and flicked two Benjamin’s on her. He watched it connect with that ass before falling to the floor. Keisha arched forward and spread her cheeks before going into a head stand.

She shook her legs and clicked her heels before dropping into another split.

“THERE YOU GO!”

“Baby going stupid…”

“Buku ass…”

Terry remained close. Keisha’s eyes locked onto him and it was enough to bring her to her feet. Terry held her steady gaze, a smirk teasing his thick lips.

“You a pretty nigga, ain’t you?” Keisha walked up on him with her hands on her hips, “What’s your name?!”

“TJ.” Terry replied.

Keisha pushed her breasts up with her fists in his face.

“Like what you see with those green eyes. A pretty boi like you ain’t used to a woman like me, huh?”

Terry’s tongue grazed his bottom lip and he locked on to the dizzying motion of her fat tits. Bringing his eyes back on her, he displayed a bill and sat it in the crease. Keisha leaned forward and grabbed the money with her teeth.

“Keep impressin’ me and there’s more for you…”

Keisha had to blink out of a trance. Terry had this unspoken power that rendered her speechless. To top it all off, that deep baritone shot straight to her clit.

“Come get this money, baby!”

Keisha pulled herself away from Terry, but not before dragging a hand down his chest. The look in her hazel eyes told him she wanted to do more than give him a lap dance.

She wanted to spin on that dick.

The door pushed open and the next girl to enter had pink hair. She was a cutie.

“I’m Diamond…”

When she turned, Terry looked away.

A BBL. A bad one at that.

He folded his money back up and made his way to where he stood earlier. The other men in the room were probably so used to seeing it that it didn’t even phase them. Terry watched Diamond do her thing. She hit the splits, shook that ass as best she could, but it was boring. Terry filled his cup and just vibed, laughing at the way some of the men in the room went bonkers over her. Even Mike was stuck. Mouth wide and eyes equally wide.

Next came a tiny girl that showed off acrobatic skills and flexibility. Terry had his money out again and he made it rain on her. She made that little booty shake. Keisha was making her way around, grinding and talking shit. Diamond allowed some of the men to grab ass. The three women scoped out Terry and winked at him. He played nice with Diamond and slipped her a crisp bill. With the tiny one named Precious, he tipped more.

“Where’s Liyah?!”

Cliff scanned the room. Another girl?

“There’s more?! Ahhh shit…”

——

Aaliyah watched from the bottom of the stairs as Precious made her entrance. She wrung her hands and exhaled a sigh. She didn’t know what to expect past those doors. Aaliyah applied more gloss and with a shaky hand, she grasped the railing and climbed. They kept the light off to avoid being spotted right away. Aaliyah stared through the crack of the door at Precious working the room.

So many…so many men.

The floor was covered with money.

She allowed her eyes to scan, taking everything in. As her eyes swept past the groom in his chair, she couldn’t see the entire room because of the door, but the sound of Cliff’s voice let her know it was time.

“Where’s Liyah?!”

“Put on her old intro!”

That was Keisha’s voice.

Aaliyah felt her nerves settle. The blacklights and the song reminded her of Crazy Horse. This was her walk out song….

Waka Flocka Ft. Roscoe Dash–No Handz Instrumental.

With one hand Aaliyah pushed open that door and stepped one shaky leg out past the darkness. The ultraviolet light caused her skin to twinkle and the blue hue made the pink she wore pop. She fully came into view, her tongue curled up over her top teeth to tease and those ‘come fuck me eyes’ staring into the faces of horny men with the money she wanted.

She allowed her body to rock to the beat. Aaliyah turned her back on everyone, brought her hands up, and gave them a thunderous applause with that beautiful ass before arching her back. She twerked those honey buns and looked back at it before a lusty smile appeared on her lips. Both hands twirled her braids while she rocked those hips.

Back. Forth. Back. Forth.

Bounce, Bounce, Bounce

*clap clap clap*

Nobody wasted time throwing money. She could work that entire room on her own. Aaliyah got down on her hands and knees, crawling like a jungle cat before turning to show off that LED plug while twerking.

“You see that shit?!”

“Hot damn!”

“Fuck, she’s nice.”

“C’mere pretty lady…”

“Freaky girl!”

That song…she owned it.

She staked her claim on it.

She spread those legs on her back and gyrated, thighs separated and the barely there crotch of her pink bikini covering her meaty pussy lips. She rubbed the money that rained down on her into her pussy and around her breasts. They…were…obsessed.

The way she looked at you, it made you feel like the only man in the world worthy of her attention.

How nasty she talked…

“I better see some thick bulges tonight, boys…”

On her feet, Aaliyah strutted dangerously slow, further into the crowd of men. As her eyes swept, she came across a pair of blue eyes that reminded her of a bottle of Hypnotiq beneath the blacklights. Too familiar…

Holy FUCKING shit…

She tried to mask her surprise but his was so boldly present.

The Professor.

His jaw dropped, eyes widening in disbelief as if a sudden jolt of electricity had coursed through his veins leaving him momentarily stunned. To others, it could seem as if Terry was so overwhelmed with how motherfucking fine Aaliyah is that he couldn’t even function. She knew the real reason. She simmered down her astonishment as best as she could and turning away, focusing on a cute guy with thick locs to his shoulders.

Her heart raced. Panic consumed her.

She had no time to panic.

“Prettiest thang in Louisiana…”

Aaliyah cupped her breasts covered in nipple tape and licked her lips. She could feel Terry’s gaze burning a hole into the side of her face. She was nervous. Oh so nervous. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Everybody was too drunk or too hype to take notice.

all except Professor Richmond. He could see right through her.

What the fuck was he doing here of all places?!

She blended in with her girls and tried her best to shield herself from Terry’s view.

That intensity in his eyes this time around left her shaken up.

Aaliyah pushed herself to perform. The space was too cramped. They scattered to watch her hit a clean split and when she glanced over her shoulder, Terry was right there. Like he appeared out of thin air.

He was standing above her. Towering over her. She had no choice but to look up.

Aaliyah couldn’t hide. She couldn’t if she tried.

“Back up, TJ. I’m tryna see all that…”

He was shoved to the side and Aaliyah felt the rain of money on her while she avoided Terry’s hard eyes zeroed in on her ass. He was so stuck.

Her breath hitched at the way he looked at her. Like he wanted to ravage her.

Her eyes glided down his frame and she loved the way he dressed. He looked delectable.

“Arch that back, bitch…”

“Yeahhhh…”

Aaliyah grabbed her ankles and made each cheek dance on its own. The heavy bass and quick melody of the bounce song compelled her to shake some ass.

The sound of her pulse in her ears drowned out the music. She locked eyes with him again and for once she grew timid. His eyes drank her in and when she lifted one leg up to pop that ass he chewed on that lip and tilted his head to see how that pussy looked from that angle.

You like what you see, huh?

“You got skills baby…Think you can show me more?”

Terry cut his eyes at the men circling Aaliyah.

Things were turning up like a raging storm.

“Pull that pussy part…”

They wanted to see her pussy. Aaliyah giggled and trailed a finger between her legs before rubbing it against one of their noses. They enjoyed that way too much. He tried to suck on that finger but Terry yoked him up by the wrist. The dread head looked at Terry like he was asking for a death wish.

“We don’t touch unless they say so…remember the rules.”

“Let go, nigga. I don’t need you tellin’ me what the fuck to do…”

“Woah, woah, woah…”

Aaliyah used that opportunity to disappear. A prickling sensation shot up her spine. She slipped down into the basement and hid herself within the darkness.

She needed a second.

“Get it together, Liyah…”

Aaliyah picked up a shorty bottle of Paul Masson Peach and took a long swig. She recapped the drink and scrunched her face from the burn. Aaliyah shook out her hands to stop them from trembling. How was she going to show her face in class on Wednesday?

All she would be able to think about was the shock on his face. There was no turning back. Aaliyah drank some more. She needed the liquor to get her through the rest of the night. The door to the basement opened and Keisha appeared. She had a look of concern on her face.

“Li–Li. You okay?”

“I’m fine, Keisha. Go back up. I was just feeling a little queasy that’s all.”

“Some shit was about to pop off. Did they touch you without your consent?”

“It’s cool. I’ll be up…”

“Don’t lie to me Li–Li…”

Aaliyah gave Keisha a reassuring smile.

“No reason to lie, mamas. I’m feeling better,” Aaliyah pushed herself up, “C’mon…”

——

Frozen.

When that door pushed open and she crept out like a sex goddess, he almost spilled his cognac.

Aaliyah?

The small hairs across his arms stood on end. Desire rushed in the moment the initial shock faded.

*clap clap clap*

Gahdamn…

He knew it. He fucking knew it.

That body outta be in a museum. This fine ass woman held a confidence so powerful he could bend at her will.

Terry Richmond sucked in a breath when her eyes connected with his.

He saw the power drain from her like Superman to Kryptonite. Terry’s chest grew tight. She drew in closer, his mouth unhinged. The glitter on her skin and the smell of her sweet fragrance made the big boy between his legs react.

Down boy…

He fought the urge to palm his bulge because it was growing out of his control. He didn’t know where to look first. Those titties sat up round and perfect. That ass was so fat he wanted to sink his teeth in it. Leave his imprint on that thick fucking shit. His eyes still lit up like Miracle on 34th Street from the glow emitting from that asshole.

Freak nasty.

He was speechless. His star pupil is a Stripper.

The biggest plot twist.

Terry wanted her even more. He wanted to tell her that it was going to be okay and she didn’t need to feel embarrassed or afraid. He could sense she was trying to avoid him as she moved around the room.

Terry needed her to know that he liked what he saw.

They weren’t in his classroom. It was okay to free her inhibitions and show him what Liyah Allure is all about. He found her popping ass and talking shit.

“Tip me, daddy…”

“You want it?”

“Don’t just stare at me. Spoil me…”

Honeyed voice as smooth as silk. Terry drew in closer and allowed himself to be consumed by her.

The glitter on her skin looked edible and if he could lick every single fleck off with his tongue he would.

The dip in her spine leading down to a full ass with hips and thighs to match told him she could take it deep and it would be a warm, tight, wet paradise.

He did say he wanted to escape somewhere tropical…

Those two braids would be anchored around his hands while he drilled deep with every goddamn stroke of his fat dick.

Unh…Unh…Unh…

Make her weep on his dick.

Professor…Professor…Don’t stop…

There she was.

Those eyes focused on him again and he saw the hint of shyness.

“I wanna pull that pussy part…”

Something primal and predatory sparked within him. Aaliyah stroked her lower lips with a single finger and shoved that finger against Darrell’s nose.

Darrell tried to take it too far.

Terry was quicker.

He wrapped his large hand around Darrell’s wrist with a vice grip similar to a boa constrictor. He would knock the daylights outta Darrell and leave him slumped over if he so much as put that finger in his mouth.

Darrell was stunned by Terry’s strength and the fact that he couldn’t break free. Weak ass nigga…

She disappeared.

Mike came over to settle down the growing altercation and with a pat on Terry’s back, he walked away in search of Aaliyah. She was nowhere in sight.

Terry waited for about ten minutes and then she resurfaced from the basement with Keisha. She probably needed a moment to gather her thoughts and energy. His presence stumped her.

Aaliyah scanned the room until she found Terry.

She got down on her hands and knees and popped ass in a split. Nobody else in that room mattered. She locked in on him from across the room. Terry sipped his drink and watched her.

“Who wants a private show?!”

Keisha pointed at Terry.

He gave a quick nod of his head. Keisha was about to be let down. He ain’t want nobody but Aaliyah. She was getting the rest of his money tonight. She deserves it and so much more. And when Terry gets his hands on her…

“I’ll take one. But I want her.”

Aaliyah saw the cash in his hand and smiled.

“Only if she ain’t scared.”

Aaliyah couldn’t believe he just said that.

“I get the impression she likes to tease…”

Aaliyah walked up to Terry with a seductive look in her eyes. He held onto her gaze with his money on display.

“Your call, beautiful.”

Aaliyah stared at him for another moment before taking him by the hand and down into the basement.

——

Terry allowed her to guide him. They headed towards the sofas, silence hanging between them. Aaliyah turned fully to face him before Terry took a seat. Without taking his eyes off of her, he placed his cup on the table and settled back into the cushion. Terry spread his thighs and with one hand over the top of the couch, the other smoothed down his left thigh invitingly. Aaliyah dropped her eyes to his lap and with a faint smile, she took a seat where his hand once was.

Aaliyah watched him spread his money out across his other thigh. She parted her glossy lips a fraction, eyeing nothing but one hundred dollar bills. Her eyes lit up. Terry looked up at her with low, lust filled eyes and a sly smirk. He removed his glasses with one hand and folded it against his chest before sitting it on the table, all while staring at her.

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

“…I don’t know what to say…”

Aaliyah’s eyelashes fluttered as she blinked away from him. Terry used his thumb to gently pull her attention back towards him.

“I should be embarrassed right now…”

Terry was trying to keep his composure but her breasts in his face was melting his cool exterior.

“Aaliyah…I don’t want you to feel embarrassed. I’m not judging you…”

She giggled nervously, “maybe not…but this was so unexpected, ya know?”

“Very. How long have you been doing this?”

Aaliyah stared heavenward shyly while deep in thought. He liked seeing her like this. It was another side to her he enjoyed.

“Well…this in particular…it’s my second time. Stripping…I did it for about five years before I quit Crazy Horse a year ago…now I just film content and work Verizon part time.”

Her eyes connected with his again.

“So…what do ya want me to do? A lap dance? What?”

Terry trailed his eyes down her body.

“Do whatever makes you feel comfortable…”

Terry’s hand molded into her back. Aaliyah shivered. The feeling of his hand on her skin was exhilarating.

She stood, facing Terry. He placed his money beside him, and his hands out of the way. Aaliyah straddled him, bracing herself on his shoulders. She looked down at him with a slow blink and the erotic smile she gave him forced his hands into fists.

“Have you ever had a lap dance before, Professor?”

“…Call me Terrence.”

“…Terrence…”

“Once. It wasn’t memorable.” Terry responded with a hushed tone.

He reclined his head back slightly and stared up into her eyes with practiced restraint.

Aaliyah gave him a mean whine over his crotch. Her chest would graze his goatee ever so slightly. He had to stop his tongue from poking out to drag between those titties.

“Ooh, that’s too bad…is this okay?”

That melodic voice…

“You’re doin’ just fine, Miss Aaliyah.”

Terry flexed his fingers. Aaliyah looked down at his hands.

“Can I admit something?” Aaliyah asked with a sultry smile.

“What’s that?”

Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled softly. She blinked away briefly before her eyes met his again.

“What?” Terry pushed.

“I think about you every day…”

“Enough to stick around after class?”

Aaliyah’s bottom lip sat between her teeth. Terry smiled.

“Why did you turn me down?” He questioned.

Aaliyah dragged her hands down his chest and stilled her hips. Terrence rested his hands on the sides of her thighs. He couldn’t resist. Aaliyah didn’t protest.

The feel of her against his hands. The heft of her on him. The images he pictured in his mind…

“I’m not an easy girl, Terrence. You gotta work harder for me. I wanted you to…”

“Chase you.” Terry concluded with an elevated brow.

“May seem silly but…it turns me on.”

“I wonder what else turns you on…”

“That brain of yours,” Aaliyah trailed her fingers through his short, soft curls, “Your passion…expressive hands…your voice…those eyes…”

Terry licked his lips, “I would have chased you and went along with your lil’ game. If that means I get to play with you in the end…”

His eyes dropped to her lips.

“You do this…tongue bite thing…I like that…” Terry said.

“What else you like?” Aaliyah asked softly, doing exactly what Terry liked. Displaying the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Moving it back and forth…

“Everything about you…you’re so damn sexy…the way you look at me just…Aaliyah, you’re aware of your beauty. That confidence lights a fire under me, baby…”

“I’m baby?”

“Mhm, the prettiest baby…”

Aaliyah played with his Cuban link. Terry’s right thumb stroked the beauty mark below her lip.

Terry groped her thigh with his free hand and glided it up to her waist. He used his thumb to trace circles into her soft skin.

“I don’t like how you put your finger on Darrell’s nose.”

“You wish it were you? Darrell didn’t get a lap dance…”

Aaliyah lifted from his lap and turned so that she was grinding against his tent with enough pressure to rub her pussy over it. The hard bulge against her fat, lower lips caused her to moan.

Terry threw money over her, his ears enjoying the way her moans sounded so angelic despite her naughty actions.

After all, she is The Dark Angel.

“Aaliyah…”

That signature look back would have had him busting a fat ass nut in his jeans.

The way she moved her hips on him.

“I want you so fuckin’ bad…”

“I know.”

She smiled.

Aaliyah stood from his lap and Terry groaned deep.

“Times up.”

He glared at her with lust and frustration. Aaliyah leaned over him with her hands on the back of the couch. Their eyes connected and her glossy lips feathered over his.

“Until next time…I think I’m free for that lunch on Wednesday…”

She brought her lips to his cheek and with her jeweled tongue, Aaliyah dragged it over his ear tantalizingly slow. She pushed away from him and Terry stood from the couch. He fixed his attire while Aaliyah stared up at him with faux innocence and her hands crossed behind her back. She swayed back and forth, parting her lips to rest her tongue in the corner of her mouth.

“It’s a date.”

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[wonuuism]

puppy love - 심재윤

in which jake makes the most if his (expensive) visit to the vet.

tags: fluff, vet!reader, layla’s not overweight irl but for the sake of the plot let’s say she’s been eating a little too well;;

author’s note: idk i wrote this in like an hour bc of a sudden burst of motivation. no proofreading bc it’s 3am LOL. first fic woo!! enjoy!!!

—

jake’s worried. panicking, even.

layla’s laying down next to him in the back of the taxi, her eyes shifting around nervously. jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as anxiety courses through his veins. layla had slipped and fallen down the stairs while he was home and her sharp whining whenever she walked afterwards made him uneasy. so, he was quick to call up the nearest vet clinic and book the soonest appointment for a consultation.

he’s really, really worried though. layla’s never had any bad scares like this one, so he’s not sure what to expect. what if it’s worse than he thinks? what if they tell him layla’s broken a bone? what if layla has to go through surgery? oh god - jake thinks he might throw up.

he’s interrupted from his thoughts as the taxi driver stops the car and announces they’ve arrived. thanking the driver, jake exits the car and gulps nervously as he surveys the exterior of the clinic. it feels ominous.

a bell rings as he pushes open the door, and the girl at the front desk looks up from the computer screen. “welcome in! how may i help you?”

“uh… i have an appointment at 11:30. for layla.” jake responds.

“awesome, i see you in our calendar. please hold tight while i let the vet know you’re here.” she smiles kindly, but it does little to ease jake’s nerves. still, he manages a tight-lipped smile and curt nod in response.

—

jake watches as someone emerge from the back, looking at a clipboard in their hands. “layla?”

he stands up right away, prompting layla who had been laying by his feet to do the same. “yes, that’s us.”

you look up at the source of the voice and send him a pleasant smile. walking towards him, you reach out your hand and he shakes it, but not before quickly swiping his palm on his jeans. “nice to meet you. i’m dr. l/n, and i’ll be taking a look at layla today. how about we head inside so i can take a better look at her?”

jake nods earnestly and gently tugs on layla’s leash to have her follow him into the consultation room in the back. once inside, you ask if he could kindly place layla on the table - a request he readily complies to. you’re impressed at how little he struggled given the fact that layla is a fairly big dog. clearly, he was strong. and maybe kind of cute, too.

“so,” you begin, “what seems to be the issue?”

“she had a bit of a bad fall and she’s been limping and whining a lot since then… i’m worried she might’ve broken a bone or something like that?” jake explains as he runs his hand comfortingly through layla’s fur.

you nod as he speaks, reaching over to assess any damage. after checking her heartbeat with your stethoscope, you flex her hips, gently press on her legs, and check on her paws.

as you do so, layla’s continuously making noises of discontent. initially, you had believed that her right front leg was causing her discomfort since she’d barked sharply when you touched it. however, she’d done the same thing for every other limb you’d touched as well. smiling, you turn your attention to her owner.

“i don’t see anything wrong with layla. her legs are fine, i’d say the shock of the fall is probably what made her respond like that. us people tend to coddle our pets a lot when they get injured, and dogs especially like that attention so they exaggerate it to make it seem worse than it is.”

jake is dumbfounded. “so you’re saying layla was just being dramatic?”

you smile apologetically. “yes… i know it’s not the news you were expecting, but that’s a good thing! means she’s not injured.”

you’re right, jake supposes. but that means i brought her all the way here because she’s a drama queen?!

you note the way jake sighs heavily, and it makes you want to try and console him by making his trip to the clinic seem somewhat worthwhile with basic medical advice.

“however, i would recommend putting her on a bit of a diet. she seems to be just a little bit over the ideal weight, and that can cause unnecessary strain on her joints.” you explain and jake nods, hanging on to every word coming out of your mouth. “after all, we want layla to live a long and healthy life, don’t we?” you coo, reaching out to ruffle her neck.

jake smiles. cute.

wait, what?

he takes this chance to finally look at you. he’d been too occupied previously with worry that he hadn’t been able to actually register what you looked like. now, he can see that you are, in fact, cute. you look around his age, and he’s impressed that you’re a vet this young. you suit the scrubs, but he wonders what you’d wear outside of work.

you pull away from layla and jake snaps back to reality. he’s glad layla’s okay. still, he sternly faces her and points his index finger toward her snout. “alright missy, you’re going on a diet starting today. consider it punishment for scaring me like that.”

chuckling, you turn to face him and he mirrors your action. there’s not much left to say, so he thanks you quickly and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. you stay since you have to log layla’s information in your computer. as you’re wrapping up, you add one more thing in layla’s “additional information” section.

additional information: super cute, looks exactly like owner

—

jake silently mourns on his way back home. again, he’s glad layla’s okay. he really is. but he had to pay an extraordinarily large amount of money just to be told that she’s fine. and a little fat.

he glares at layla, who looks back at him with sparkling eyes. his heart melts at the sight, and he sighs as he pets her. jake thinks of you and the fondness in your eyes as you petted the same fur moments prior. maybe something good did come out of his visit to the vet.

suddenly, he gets an idea. he paid a lot of money for this consultation, so he could be a little greedy. as a client, he could ask for your number, right? after all, what if something truly serious happened next time? he’d rather skip the formality of booking an appointment through the website and speak directly with you instead.

so, he pulls up the clinic’s information and calls the number on their website. a girl — likely the same one who welcomed him in — answers and asks what she could do for him.

“hey, i was just at the clinic for an appointment with my dog layla. i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you think it would be possible to get the number of the vet who saw layla today? just in case anything happens to layla again. you know?”

jake physically cringes as he speaks. way to not sound weird.

“uhm… one moment please.” the girl responds. jake hears whispering on the other side of the call.

what he didn’t know was that you were right next to the girl on call, sorting through some paperwork before you saw your next patient.

“doctor! layla’s owner is calling and asking if he can get your number..?” your secretary whispers.

you whip your head towards her, not believing what you heard. layla’s owner? the cute, fluffy hair guy?

she looks as giddy as you feel, giggling as she raises her eyebrows suggestively. laughing at her, you give her a thumbs up and she’s quick to bring the phone to her ear again.

“hello? yes, the doctor said there’s no problem. do you have something to write with? okay. her number is…”

you smile to yourself as she recites your personal number. a bell rings throughout the clinic, notifying you of your next patient’s arrival. you greet them and lead them to your consultation room and as you close the door your phone buzzes.

unknown number: hi, this is jake. layla’s dad. thanks again for the help today. if you don’t mind, i’d like to take you out sometime?

you bite your lip to suppress your grin. quickly, you reply.

you: i’d love that. date and time?

[ferrarrigirl]

i beg for some lando x reader where he is a girl dad!!!!!!! love ur work 🫶

Full House

Pairing: dad!Lando x mom!reader

Summary: Lando and reader with their 4 daughters, there’s always drama in the Norris household. Slight angst, mostly fluff.

A/N: Im so sorry this took forever to write but I hope you like it xx

You had just retired to your room after finally finishing up the last of your emails for today. Trying to sneak in a quick nap before the rest of the family gets home. Maybe you should’ve checked the time because just as you got comfortable, the front door unlocks downstairs, followed by Layla’s loud voice, “You just always have to take everything I want. Couldn’t this be the one thing you left for me?”

You immediately jumped out of bed heading for the stairs. As your racing down the steps, you hear the younger of the twins, Ava, retaliate, “I didn’t mean to Lay, it’s not my fault.”

Both girls turn to face you seeing you’ve reached the bottom step. “What is going on girls?” You question, deeply concerned with the anger laced in both their voices.

Layla’s first to reply, “Ask her Mom, ask her why she had to go after the one guy I liked.”

“I didn’t go after him, I don’t chase anyone” Ava seethes through gritted teeth.

“Oh cut the shit, you love having every guy’s attention. You should’ve left Jake alone!”

“Layla, stop,” you scold, noticing Ava’s patience is growing thin. That never ended well. Similar to her dad, it took a lot for her to get angry, but if she did, it wasn’t pretty.

“No Mom let her say what she has to. She’s just mad no one wants her.”

“Ava! That is not how you speak to your sister,” you move to step between them. “Let’s take a break and talk about this when you’ve both calmed down,” you offer.

“Fine by me, I never want to speak to her again,” Layla glares at Ava, turns on her heel and heads up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door, hard. You move to step towards Ava, in attempts to comfort her but she slips under your arm. “Please don’t defend her mom,” Ava sighs and heads up to her room as well. It’ll be best to try and get through to them later you think, especially with Lan. They always seem to more receptive hearing it from him. You turn to your younger babies, the less of the trouble makers. “How was both of yours days? Better I hope?”

“Oh yea mum the best, but I wanna catch up on some reading before dinner, is that okay?” 11 year old Amelia pleads, looking up at you through her beautiful green eyes. How could you deny that. “Of course you can bub” you say, pulling your bookworm baby into a hug. “I’ll come get you when dinners ready,” she smiles, padding up the stairs to her room aswell.

“Now you, my sweets, come here.” You crouch down to your 7 year old, knowing she gets very anxious whenever her older sisters argue. As expected, immediately she’s in your arms, almost throwing you back with the impact. You pick Charlotte up and move upstairs, asking her about her day to try and distract her. You take her to Lando’s office and settle into his gaming chair with her on your lap. It was always your comfort room, something about the darkness mixed with the led lights soothed you. She fills you in on the few things she learned today, but mostly all the games they played, while she snuggles further into you. You hated that she got the anxiety trait from you, so anything you could do to help her out, you would. Lucky for you, your voice worked well to relax her so you spoke to her about your day and felt her ease up.

“I’m home,” you smile hearing the front door open and close, followed by heavy footsteps moving quickly up the stairs. Char jumps off your lap, running out and straight into Lando’s arms. “Daddyyyy” she exclaims, presssing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Lando follows where she came from, leading him to you sitting in his gaming chair. He furrows his brows, notificing your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Are you okay babe?”

“Yea-“

“Lay and A had a big fight and they yelled and screamed at each other,” Char quickly spills.

“Oh sorry mummy,” she pouts seeing your gaze shift towards her. “Wanted to tell daddy so he can fix it.”

“That’s okay baby,” you stand, placing a kiss to her head. “Do you wanna go play with Amelia while me and daddy talk? We’ll grab to help cook dinner.”

Halfway through your sentence, she’s already jumping out of Lando’s arms and rushing out the door. “I’ll take that as a yes” you giggle while Lando engulfs you in his arms.

“Talk to me love” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, making sure to leave a few pecks. He stays like that, rocking you side to side as you unveil the events that led you here. It’s a lot to digest. And it’s never fun knowing your girls are fighting, especially if it’s over a boy, but you both know you need to get to the bottom of what happened.

“Hey” he pulls back and cups your face with a hand on each cheek. “They’re young, they’re siblings. They’re gonna fight. We can talk them both out of it.”

You were used to the twins fighting. They always bicker, but never like this. “I know Lan but you should’ve seen how they spoke to each other. Poor Char was frightened too.”

He pulls you back in for another hug, “Love, you know how sassy they can be. I’m sure once we speak to them, they’ll get over it just as quick.” he reassures rubbing you up and down your back.

“Fine but your talking to Layla,” you mumble into his chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter under your head. “Lucky me.” Pulling back he places a soft sweet kiss to your lips, grabs your hand pulling you in the direction of the twins rooms.

He goes first, knocking on Layla’s door. “Mom not now.”

“Not Mom, its Dad.”

Lando rolls his eyes hearing his eldest groan. He can imagine her dragging her feet towards the door. She opens the door the tiniest bit and rushes back into her bed, tucking herself into her multiple blankets. “I still don’t wanna talk. I’m only letting you in to know if you beat Uncle Los today.” Layla loved going to golf with her dad, the only one of the family that seemed to enjoy it, especially when her and Carlos would team up against Lando.

“Well I don’t want to talk about golf so I guess you won’t know.”

“Ughh stop being annoying dad,” she says, voice now muffled as she turns shoving her face into the pillow.

“Hey if you tell me, I’ll tell you.”

A moment of silence passes, he knows she wants to talk about it. Heck if with anyone it would be with him. She contemplates it, but shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”

‘Lay, there’s nothing you need to be embarrassed about with me. You can tell me anything.” Lando moves closer to sit by her, rubs her back up and down. “i won’t force you to talk, but I need you to know this is what me and your mom are here for. No judgement with us, ever.”

He stays like that, comforting Layla for a bit, and once he realizes she isn’t ready to talk yet, he moves to get up. But immediately she senses him leaving and turns back around. She looks up to her dad with tears flooding her eyes, “No one likes me dad.”

That’s all it took, and the tears started flowing. She moved into his arms and surely the silent cries turned into louder sobs. In the moment, Lando didn’t even know what to say. He felt like he did when the twins were younger and he’d always look to you to figure out why they were crying, but in this moment he knew it was all him. He began with hugging her back and reminding her she needs to stop crying or she won’t be able to breathe. She slowly pulled back and began explaining seeing the concerned look on her dad’s face.

“Jake is the only guy I’ve ever liked. And I thought he liked me back too.”

“Okay..” Lando swallows, not expecting her to be so blunt about boys, but he urges her to continue anyway.

“We got along really well, he was really nice and all of my friends even told me they knew he liked me. And then, today at school, infront of all us, he asked Ava out.”

“I see, what did Ava say?”

“She said no, obvs. But still. She gets every guy and she doesn’t even have to try. If Jake can’t even like me now, when we’ve been getting on for so much longer, then no one is ever going to like me.”

Lando’s starting to get it now. Being a twin in highschool surely can’t be easy. Especially when these years can have a great effect on your self esteem.

“Baby, you can not put your self worth into the hands of a boy. You are so beautiful inside and out, smart, and hilarious.” “And amazing at golf,” he emphasizes to bring a small smile to her face

“You are going to find someone that loves you for you, but that isn’t something you need to worry about yet. I know it’s hard seeing Ava have it different but it doesn’t make you any less better in any way.”

“It’s just not fair Dad.”

“I know bub, it might feel like that now but come next week, next month, you and no one else are going to remember this. And if that dumb boy can’t see everything amazing in my daughter, he isn’t someone I want for you and you shouldn’t want that for yourself either. I mean there will never be a boy good enough for my girls but this once isn’t even getting close.”

She lets out some more snotty giggles and reaches to hug Lando again. “Love you dad”

“ I love you more. Now, do you see how Ava is not at fault here?”

“Yeah I do. I guess in the heat of the moment it was easier to blame her.”

“I get that, but let’s try and have a breath before going at each other next time? You girls are lucky to have a built in best friend, never let a boy get in between you two.” Layla nods, feeling guilty about her behaviour earlier and realising she must’ve scared Charlotte, she asks “Is Char okay?”

“She is bub, don’t worry. Anything else you need?” Lando confirms, he didn’t want to impose and give her some alone time before dinner.

“No that’s it. Thank you Dad.”

“No problem sweets,” he reaches down placing a kiss to her head. “Go get up and shower, you’ve got snot everywhere,” he teases, moving to leave the room.

“Wait, so did you beat Los?”

“Nope, got absolutely destroyed.”

“Omg I have to text him,” she says breaking into a fit of laughter as Lando shakes his head and opens the door to head out. “Yeah yeah be down in 30 for dinner.”

He heads down the stairs, joining you in the kitchen. “How’d it go?” You inquire as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head on your shoulder. “Good, she was just feeling a little insecure.”

“Ava was the same,” you inform. “She was upset Layla thought she would do it to her on purpose, but I told her she knew it wasn’t but was acting in the heat of the moment.”

“Mhmm,” Lando mumbles, placing a few kisses to your neck, “just glad we got through to them.” You both settle into each others warmth when you hear giggles filling the house. All 4 girls come tumbling down the stairs heading straight for you. Amelia and Ava immediately cling to Lando having not seen him today. They pull him away, fillling him in on their day, while Layla comes to you holding Charlotte in her arms.

“I’m sorry mum,” she pouts. You can see the guilt eating away at her, she was always a softie at heart.

“That’s okay my love, how are you feeling now?” You wrap your arms around the 2 girls, trying to provide her some reassurance.

“Much better, i apologized to Ava too. But I’m really sorry for causing a ruckus at home.”

“I’m proud of you baby. Do not let anyone get in your head and make you forget how special you are, especially not a boy.” You press a big kiss to her cheek, “I love you sweets.”

Before Layla can reply, Char is jumping out of her arms and into yours, “Me tooo mummy.” You giggle, reaching to grab her and move to the couch to join the rest of your family. You all cuddle under a large blanket and decide pizza and movies is how you’ll spend the rest of the night.

[pinkskiessss]

LACY - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mature content

A/N: I feel like alot of the last few chapters have been about Layla really struggling with coming to terms with identity/sexuality. Which I wanted to write because I wanted to show the process of really coming to terms with being queer and how it isn’t just something you immediately accept in one night, based on my own experiences personally ofc. So with that being said, I hope someone else can find comfort in her character or relates. (Also forgot to write this in, but for anyone wondering, Layla has been involved “romantically” with guys in the past, but I think it’s just a realization now for her that it was like a cover up for who she actually is, because she’s feeling emotions she’s never felt towards a man, towards a woman if that makes sense. Basically she’s gay lol hope this helps! Which like same girl) Anywayssss sorry for the rant, enjoy loves!

—

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the folded note on my bedside table.

I hope you feel better. Text me when you get up.

I exhaled slowly, the events of last night still swirling in my mind. Her low voice, her subtle touches—it made my skin crawl, the way I feel when she touches me. Even if it’s only for a second. The way it made something stir inside me that I couldn’t ignore, but couldn’t accept either.

I grabbed my phone and texted her, my fingers shaking slightly.

Me: Hey, I just woke up. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry for being such a mess.

Her reply came quickly, almost like she’d been waiting for me.

Paige: Don’t trip. You’re good. Seriously.

Paige: You feeling better?

Me: Yeah, a little. Thanks again.

There was a short pause before her next message came through.

Paige: Can we talk? In person, if you’re not busy?

I hesitated, biting my lip. I didn’t want to see her, not right now. I’d rather save myself the embarrassment. But I couldn’t avoid it forever.

Me: Sure. You can come over if you want. I’m heading to the gym soon to practice, though.

Paige: Volleyball grind? Big game coming up, right?

Me: Yeah, it’s the regional final this weekend. If we win, we’re in the Final Four.

Paige: No pressure or anything

Me: Tell me about it lol

Paige: Can I come practice with you for fun cause why not? I won’t distract you to much I swear.

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her trying to play volleyball.

Me: Ok sure, if you insistttt

When Paige arrived, she was dressed in basketball shorts and a black tee, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Somehow she always looks perfect like all the time. It’s crazy actually.

—

We set up the net, and Paige was already messing around with the volleyball like she had no idea what she was doing. I tossed her the ball.

“Alright, ready?” I asked.

She caught it but didn’t seem to know what to do next. “Uh, sure. Can’t be too hard.”

Her first attempt was… not great to say the least. The ball went flying across the gym, and she just stood there, looking at it like it had betrayed her.

“Okay, so let’s just act like you didn’t see that,” she said, laughing at herself.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension easing just a little. “Maybe try not to hit it like you’re dunking a basketball.”

“Yo I didn’t sign up for this kind of slander, not to much on me,” she said with a grin. “But fine, I’ll try again.”

We kept going, and she got a little better—or at least, less terrible. But I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to last night, what I asked her in a drunken haze. How awkward it feels that I got drunk and slipped into a vulnerable state where I felt comfortable enough to ask her how she knew she was gay. Like come on Layla, why do you always have to make shit weird.

I tried to push it out of my mind, but when she stood beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as we took a break, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The kind of knot that made me want to run. To escape this feeling.

“Layla,” Paige said softly, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

I glanced at her, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She didn’t seem convinced. She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine. “You sure? You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine if it’s not, you know this.”

I shook my head, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Paige. I don’t even know why I asked you what I did. It just… felt like something I needed to say. I was really drunk and confused I guess. But now, I just feel… weird.”

Paige’s expression shifted, a flicker of something defensive in her eyes. “Weird how?”

I was silent, except for the sound of my breath, heavy and uneven. I could feel the weight of Paige’s words pressing down on me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside me was breaking. I didn’t know how to fix it.

“I just don’t get it, Layla,” Paige said, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Why are choosing to continuously hurt yourself by denying the facts.”

“I’m not. I just—” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want people to look at me like it’s all they see when I play. I don’t want to be judged. People already say enough disgusting stuff online about queer people. Imagine what they would say if they found out an athlete they looked up to secretly liked the same gender. It would hurt my career so much if people found out Paige, you don’t get it.”

Paige’s face tightened, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell, Layla? Are you seriously forgetting that I’m gay myself? I would get it. People speculate about my sexuality all the time, and yeah, it’s obvious. Everyone knows it. Sure, there’s a small percentage of people who hate on me for it, and I see it. But if I let that control my life, I’d be a pretty shitty person. People always have their opinions, and most of them are garbage, but you can’t let them define how you see yourself. You’re letting people on the internet make you think you’re wrong for feeling how you feel. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

I flinched at her words, the anger in her voice cutting deeper than I expected. I didn’t answer, my heart pounding in my chest. She was right. She knew exactly what it was like to feel out of place. But I couldn’t help the way I felt.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says quietly, her voice suddenly soft, regret seeping into her tone. “I shouldn’t have said that the way I did at all. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad, I just hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

My hands were shaking now, and I wiped at my eyes, feeling the tears I’d been holding back start to fall. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop any of it.

Paige saw me crying, and her expression softened instantly. She stepped forward, reaching out to gently grab my arms, pulling them away from my face. “Layla, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I looked up at her, my chest tight. “It’s not you, I just don’t know what to do, Paige. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to make this go away.”

Paige’s eyes softened as she held my arms. “You don’t have to make it go away, Layla. You don’t have to figure it out right now. But please, don’t hate yourself for it. You’re not disgusting, or weird. You’re… you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Her words hit me like a wave, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as lost as I thought.

“I really care for you,” Paige continued, her voice low and sincere. Hearing you talk about yourself like that—it hurts me. It hurts to see you think you’re not worth it. You are. You really are.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. I stepped closer to her, not sure what I was doing but knowing I needed to be near her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

She smiled softly, her hand brushing against my cheek. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want you to know you’re not alone in this. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I felt a pull in my chest, an undeniable connection that I couldn’t ignore. I leaned in slightly, my breath catching in my throat. I was close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, to see the way her blue eyes softened, the way her pink lips parted just slightly. My heart raced, the air thick with unspoken words, with everything we hadn’t said yet.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in this fragile, suspended moment. I could hear the soft sound of her breathing, the way it matched mine, both of us caught in the tension that had been building between us.

I barely registered that I was moving closer until our noses were almost touching, the smallest breath between us. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the way her cologne lingered in the air, intoxicating and all-consuming. I could feel the pull, stronger now, undeniable, and it was like something inside me snapped.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, closing the space between us, and my lips brushed against hers in the softest kiss. It was tentative at first, a question, a hesitation, but it felt right. Her lips were warm and inviting, soft as velvet, and I couldn’t help but press into her, deepening the kiss just slightly, my hands finding their way to her neck, pulling her closer.

Her lips moved against mine with a gentle pressure, and I responded instinctively, my body leaning into hers, craving more. There was no fear, no doubt. Just the rush of the moment, the way her touch made everything else fade away. It felt right.

But then, just as quickly as it started, I pulled away, breathless, my chest heaving. I looked at her, my heart pounding in my ears, and I saw the same intensity reflected in her eyes.

“Paige,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I—”

She didn’t give me a chance to finish. Before I could say another word, she pulled me back to her, her lips crashing against mine with a hunger that took me by surprise. This time, there was no hesitation, no softness. Her hands were on my waist, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the urgency in her kiss, the way she needed me as much as I needed her.

I kissed her back with everything I had, my hands threading through her hair, pulling her even closer, if that was even possible. I could feel the heat between us, the way our bodies pressed together, desperate to feel more. It was a kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for anything but the raw, overwhelming undeniable connection between us.

—

Taglist:

@unadulteratedcyclepaper

[dancingtotuyo]

Home | Part 1

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Frankie returns to you and your daughter.

Tags: Frankie Morales, Triple Frontier, Canon compliant, Frankie’s baby & his lady, fluff, angst, Dad!Frankie

Warnings: breaking & entering, gun, briefest illusion to drug use, illusions to death, some brief angst, let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: this is my first attempt writing Frankie. This idea came out of nowhere and I love it. Thank you to @wannab-urs for beta reading, adding commas, and the sweet comments! 🫶

Words: 938

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

You haven’t had a good night’s sleep since he left. He told you a week. It’s verging on three. You stare at his side of the bed. You’ve had to wash the sheets since he left, but you’ve left his pillowcase. You bury your face in it, seeking the traces of him. Frankie’s scent is beginning to fade.

Tears threaten to form in your eyes. You fight with them. You can’t cry. He’s coming home. He has to come home. You can’t do this without him. You curl around the pillow. You need to sleep, but you can’t. Every time you close your eyes, you see Frankie dead in a ravine, on a mountaintop, or in an alley somewhere.

Layla stirs in her crib, drawing your eye. You’re quiet as her eyes blink open. Her tiny fists curl beside her ears. You expect her wails to fill the room, echoing how you feel inside, but to your awe, she stays quiet.

The full moon streams through the bedroom window, shining off of your daughter’s dark eyes. They remind you so much of her father’s. She stares back at you. Your little girl. Your perfect little girl, so much like her daddy with her big brown eyes and soft curls. His little Layla Grace.

He has to come back. He can’t leave you. He can’t leave her.

Layla blinks. Each interval grows slower until her eyes drift shut. Her breathing evens out. She has a soft snore. Just one more thing she picked up from her daddy. You’re not sure she has any of your DNA and you love it.

You’re tempted to scoop her up and lay her in the bed beside you, but that’s Frankie’s spot. You can’t give it up, even to your daughter. You have to make sure he has his spot when returns home.

Eventually, your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out as Frankie’s comforting scent fills your nostrils.

You’re startled awake by the rattling of the storm door Frankie was supposed to fix months ago. Your heart rate skyrockets as you shoot up feeling dazed. The red numbers on your alarm clock read 3:09 am. The storm door rattles again, and then the backdoor squeaks open.

Your bare feet hit the hardwood. Layla is sound asleep. You open the nightstand drawer, quickly punching the gun-safe code. The metal is cool under your hands. It’s been a long time since you’ve held the gun, but the mechanics come back like riding a bike. You check the chamber and load the magazine.

The backdoor slams shut. You spare a glance at your daughter before quietly closing the bedroom door behind you. You use your bare feet to your advantage, avoiding all the creaky floorboards in your old home.

Something hits the wall in the kitchen making you jump. You catch a dark figure, presumably male, wrestling through your cabinets. It doesn’t make sense, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins doesn’t allow for critical thinking.

You click the safety off, entering the kitchen. “Don’t move. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

His hands fly out, resting against the cabinet door. He lets out a tired sigh, something familiar in it.

“When I bought you that gun, I didn’t think you’d pull it on me, Sweetheart.”

Your chest tightens at the familiar timbre. The gun almost falls from your hands as you drop your stance. “Frankie?”

He turns around, eyes shining even in the dark. “It’s me, baby. I’m home.”

He eases forward, taking the deadly weapon from your shaking hands and disarming it. Placing the gun on the counter, he takes your hands into his, pulling you closer until his arms tighten around you. He holds onto you for dear life, both of you shaking.

Tears you’ve been holding in for weeks fall, soaking through Frankie’s jacket. His chest shakes, his tears mingling with yours.

“I thought you were gone.”

“I’m here. I’m here.” He repeats it over and over like an oath to you and an assurance to himself.

“Please don’t go again. Don't ever leave me again.”

“Never.” He kisses your salty cheeks, your forehead, and finally your lips.

You feel like home. You are his home. His hand runs through your hair, keeping him anchored to reality. He’s here and no longer in the jungle of South America.

You pull him back to the bedroom, both of you in a daze. You’re still in disbelief he’s here and whole. You fall into bed. Frankie pulls off his clothes, hat landing on the dresser where it belongs. You catch his movements stiff from the exhaustion of traveling, but he’s smiling at you the whole time, drinking you in like water in the desert.

Layla's small cries emanate from the crib pulling Frankie’s attention. Immediately, he’s at her side, cooing soft Spanish to her as he picks her up with the familiarity only a parent has. Goosebumps travel over your exposed skin. Layla quiets immediately, looking up at her daddy with wide eyes.

He moves over to the bed sitting next to you. His Spanish continues to spill in a comforting cadence. You caress Layla’s brown curls, head resting on Frankie’s shoulder. It’s all the perfect moment of peace and rest.

It won’t last long. Layla will remember she’s hungry soon enough. Frankie may sleep tonight, but the nightmares will come. There will be tears and grief and fights, but Frankie, Your Frankie, is here, and he’s intact, at least physically, and your daughter will grow up to know her father. That is what matters. The rest will wait.

[darksigns-exe]

she's a silver lining - girl!noah x matt dierkes

warnings: swearing, oral sex (m receiving)

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | read: little remedy (girl!noah x layla (ofc) | taglist sign-up

She counts the money again. They can barely afford to pay the venue fees, there’s no way that they can pay Matt and get dinner for everyone. 

“What are we doing about that?” Nick asks, “We have to pay him somehow.”

“I’ll figure something out.” Noah mutters in reply. 

Nick won’t like the idea that’s forming in her head. But she knows Matt, she knows how his brain works, and she knows that there’s one thing that she never gave him while they were hooking up. 

“Noah.” Nick warns. 

“Come on.” She swats his arm, “Have a little faith in me. I’ll just tell him that he’ll get a little extra at the end and that’s it.”

She can tell that Nick is shaking his head as she walks away, and in a way she gets it. Nick worries — maybe rightfully so.

Noah finds Matt at the back of the venue loading their gear into the trailer with Jolly and Folio. 

She gets his attention quite easily, Matt has never been very good at saying no to her. 

“Listen, we might have to decide between dinner and paying you tonight and — I know this sucks, and you’ll get paid in full, you will. Maybe I can do something else for you.” She suddenly feels a little ridiculous. 

It all sounded so much better in her head. 

“Should have known that, so that’s on me.” Matt replies with a bitter laugh, “Whatcha gonna do? Let me fuck you again?”

Noah swallows the urge to punch him right then and there. 

“I thought that I could blow you, but if you wanna settle for that.” She trails off as Matt flushes so brightly. 

She can practically watch him short circuit in real time. 

“Whatever you want.” She tries her best to sound nonchalant about it, but the flustered expression on Matt's face makes it all so hard. 

Knowing that she affects him like this is a little dizzying. Noah doesn’t see herself as someone people are attracted to. She’s tall, stick thin, with barely any chest to speak of. They’d called her a twig for the longest time. The tattoos help, but she still doesn’t think that she measures up to the girls these boys usually fawn over. In that way, Matt has always been rather helpful. 

“No — no, that’s fine. I — when is this happening?” It’s endearing how hard he’s trying to sound unaffected. 

“Just stay back when the others are getting dinner.” She says, brushing past him to catch up with the other two. 

Her quick departure only partially serves this little one-sided game she’s playing with Matt. Her own resolve wavers too quickly, and if she isn’t careful, Matt will see how unsure she is about all of this. And she absolutely cannot have that happen. 

The diner they find is acceptable, and Noah spends about five minutes dissecting her burger and stealing fries off Nick's plate before she announces that she’s not that hungry after all and that she’ll take her burger back to Matt. He’d previously said that he’d stay with the van just to be safe. She snaps a picture of Matt dozed off in the driver's seat before she smacks her hand against the window. 

He jumps, clearly disoriented, and flips her off as soon as he realises who the culprit is. 

Noah motions to the backseat before she rounds around the van to meet him there. 

“Brought you a burger.” She tosses the thing towards him, and Matt already has it in front of his face when she interjects, “I’m not making out with you if you taste like burger.”

As quickly as he was ready to dig in, the burger was deposited on the driver's seat for later. Noah scoots closer to him. They’ve done this before, so she doesn’t know why he’s so awfully nervous. Instead of letting him suffer for much longer, she pulls him in for a kiss. He eases up a little when she threads her hand into his hair. She’s never known Matt to be this nervous. Every time they’d met like this he’d been so sure of himself, and now he trembles like a leaf beneath her hand. 

Noah presses her hand against his crotch, feeling for his already half hard cock. Matt groans against her lips. 

“Been thinking about this?” She asks. 

He nods, looking a little meek. 

“Yea? Have you been thinking about me on my knees for you? Did that get you hard like this?”

She doesn’t know what has gotten into her tonight. 

The sound Matt makes forces a grin onto her face. She doesn’t feel mean enough to tease him for much longer. And really, she can’t wait to get her mouth on him. She never got to do that when they’d hooked up previously. It’s always been rushed with them, and Noah knows that they won’t have a lot of tonight either. She slides down onto the floor of the van and immediately gets to work on getting his jeans undone. Matt struggles out of them, shoving them down to his ankles, while Noah shrugs off her sweatshirt. 

She likes the size of him, big enough to satiate her, but not so big that she’d struggle with it. He sighs so prettily when she wraps her hand around him. He’s leaking so much by the time, she drags the tip of her tongue across the head. Above her, Matt makes a strangled little noise. In a way, she regrets doing this here, with so little time. The sounds Matt already gives make her want to draw it out, see what else she can draw from him. 

Noah only looks up at him when she takes him into her mouth. 

“Oh — oh fuck.” He groans, letting his head fall back against the headrest, “Noah.”

She loves the way he moans her name. His voice always breaks off towards the end of it, and it makes her feel as if he’s putty in her hands. 

Especially with this. Noah knows that she has a few good tricks up her sleeve, and not just because Nick let her try herself out on him a few times. 

She sinks lower on him, now eager to hear how pretty he’ll sound when he spills across her tongue. Matt’s hands are placed firmly on his thighs and really, she can’t have that. Noah places one of his hands on the back of her head. 

“Come on Matt. You know I’m not made of glass.” She can’t help but roll her eyes at how hesitant he is today. 

Usually he has no issue putting her through the mattress. This is unprecedented. Matt is never this gentle with her. His hand closes a little hesitantly, and Noah takes that as a sign to get back to work. She doubles down on her efforts, taking as much as she can of him into her mouth. 

She can’t quite take all of him, but she gets the reaction she’d hoped for. Matt’s grip on her hair suddenly tightens. She moans around him, letting her eyes fall shut. Matt’s quiet swears above spur her on, and Noah doubles down on her efforts. She pushes through the uncomfortable feeling to swallow down more of him. 

The longer she works him like this, the more she becomes sure that Matt doesn’t know what he’s doing at all. And it tracks with how flustered he was earlier. She hadn’t really considered this to be an option. In her head, Matt had seen and done most things already. Suddenly, she feels a little bit bad for having to rush him like this. 

Noah pulls off him again, but keeps working him with her hand. She makes a little bit of a show of it, moaning when she drags her tongue up the length of his cock. That seems to give him a little more confidence to direct her back down. 

“F-fuck Noah.” He groans, “Can you — can you take all of it again?” 

He lets out another beautifully startled moan when she takes most of him in one go. She places her hand on top of his, that still rests on the back of her head. Noah looks up at him when she shows him that it’s okay for him to hold her down. Matt finally gives a little pressure and Noah can’t hold the moan that bubbles from her. He does it again, and she feels him twitch against her tongue. 

The sounds that come from him now are bordering on desperate, and she’s sure that he must be so very close by now. She moans around his length and in return, Matt whines. Another bop of her head later, his hand tightens painfully, and she feels his cum spill across her tongue. 

Noah works him through it until his expression turns somewhat pained. She pulls off his cock, drawing in a deep breath to settle herself. Matt’s head is tipped back against the headrest, eyes pressed shut so tightly. He runs a hand across his face, letting out a quiet groan. Noah remains on her knees for a moment longer, just quietly watching Matt. When she eventually comes to sit next to him, Matt still doesn’t look at her. 

“Matt?” she asks, bringing her hand to the top of his still bare thigh. 

It’s surprisingly tender in comparison to their previous meetings. But Noah thinks that she needs to give him a little bit of that tenderness right now. 

“Matt, can you look at me?”

When he does, there’s an odd mix of emotions on his face.

“This was your first one, wasn’t it?” She asks, all she gets is a hesitant nod,  “Should have said something. Could have waited for a better moment.” 

“I’m by no mean against this happening again, but I liked it.” 

Noah thinks that he almost looks a little bashful then, and it makes her feel all warm and twisty inside. Her feelings for Matt are, for the most part, friendly, she knows that she’s not immune to a pretty boy getting flustered. 

She swats his shoulder in return, “Don’t get greedy now. We’ll see about that, but you should probably get dressed though. Can’t be long until the rest get back, and I don’t exactly want to explain this.”

Matt gives a curt nod.

Noah watches as he gets dressed. Maybe she should have waited to do this until they were staying in a motel again because now she finds herself aching for what he’d normally give her. 

The rest of their group returns, just as Matt reaches across the driver’s seat for the by now stale burger. Their chatter quickly drowns out the remains of the moment her and Matt had shared just then, and maybe that’s for the best. She doesn’t need to deal with any of this. Before long, Nick has slid into the backseat next to her. He tosses a somewhat messed up chocolate bar into her lap before dropping his head to her shoulder.

They’re barely out of the parking lot when Noah starts to feel herself being overtaken by the exhaustion of the day. She’ll deal with this on a different day when she doesn’t feel so awfully exhausted.

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake

[agentnatesewell]

Your tags got me curious, how does Suri feel about Verda potentially working with the Agency? I love the reasoning for Layla, about how it gives her more control to have a friend know about it! Hadn't thought of that, but it does make sense!

Hello wonderful Seren! Thank you for the ask! I really enjoyed reading your post, and learning more about Yael - especially so soon after her life had changed and that horrible experience with Murphy (always enjoy reading your thoughts, so incredibly insightful!)

That’s a great question! Suri’s feelings for the Agency and the Agents themselves is ever-evolving, and she is starting to compartmentalizing her feelings. In book one, she was confused and thunderstruck by the revelation, and having to deal with Unit Bravo running a more parallel investigation rather than working with her - and didn’t allow the agency to run tests

With that, though, as time as gone on, she’s come to trust Unit Bravo and wholeheartedly. Other agents that she’s met, and her friends Tapeesa and Elidor. She wasn’t impressed with The Chamber, and doesn’t actually trust Rebecca as a mother though she does as an Agent (but not a handler)

Surina doesn’t agree with caging, and she is uncomfortable with the fact that there is a leak in the Agency (and others suffering because she’s the target). At the end of the day, though, she doesn’t like the whole entity and the bureaucracy, she has learned to trust various people and various departments (the prophecy department not included)

(that was long!!) Verda. She is comfortable yet cautious with Verda working with the Agency. They’ll give him the equipment and results he needs, and more importantly to her - hopefully he’ll be more at ease with when he finds out that his husband is a supernatural. There are people to trust, and maybe he’ll be a little more aware of what to look out for? And working for the Agency, he may be afforded more help and protection for Cara and Lacey

So, it’s a little contradictory, but I think that given his situation, it’d be best for him to work for the Agency. Have a pulse on them. Ignorance may not be bliss for him. And at least she’ll be there, and knows Bravo will be there for her friend

Layla! Having the semblance of control has carried her this far in her life (even with her setbacks, like not going to medical school), and it’s been fine! Then the supernatural and Adam Du Mortain came into her life and she’s been fighting to get back on top since. Layla trusts Tina, and Layla knows that something as prominent as a supernaturals in Wayhaven isnt going to be a secret for long. So, she made the decision to help Tina find out - and it is nice to have someone to talk to and confide in that knows her, and has known her

Thank you again for asking! 💕

[svmjaeyvn]

sincerely yours, s.jy.

chapter 05. firsts. pairing: idol!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: where they meet once on the subway but he never forgets her or the encounter no matter how much time has passed

"YOU KEPT MY NOTE IN YOUR WALLET THIS ENTIRE TIME?"

"WELL, YEAH? I WASN'T JUST GOING TO THROW IT AWAY,"

05. FIRSTS

previous masterlist next

word count: 4.7k

my tags: @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi @coolwitu @simjyunnie @kgneptun @graythecoffeebean @143ikeu @zyvlxqht @tesywesy @nxzz-skz @enczen @dreamiestay @ikkeumyluv @v3lv3tsin

a/n: i love them so much i eat up a good speed run into love tbh

— APRIL ‘22

"SO," YOUR VOICE broke the thin air between you two. Picking his head up, Jake flickered his gaze to met yours, a smile appearing on his lips almost immediately.

"So," He repeats, fingers dancing around the rim of his cup. After getting your respective drinks, the latte for Jake and a caramel concoction that was recommended by the barista for you, you two had sat in silence for the past few minutes. For one, it was rather comfortable, able to get yourself suited and sip at the coffee filled drink but for the other, it was notable how after the first minute he began to grow antsy but did his best to remain composed.

And so as you were about halfway done with your cup, it now becoming a tolerable amount of warm to drink without blowing on every sip rather than the piping hot it once was, you felt it was best to begin the conversation. Though, you didn't know what to talk about. You weren’t exactly the best conversationalist when put on the spot, and to be quite honest, slightly nervous because you didn't know what was on and off the table to speak about considering your different lives. He was a normal person but you still wanted to be respectful of his work and not make it seem like all you cared about was his career, because in reality, you honestly didn't.

You pursed your lips, glancing around the small cafe momentarily. The mid-morning rush seemed to die down and with it, the buzz of conversations had lowered significantly. Students seemed to be secluded, typing away or writing assignments while a few elderly couples sat at the booths in the far end of the shop, enjoying their morning coffee while the baristas stood lax at the front counter conversing amongst themselves at ease.

"If you had to choose, what animal would you like to be in your next life?" You speak up, your question lingering through the air for a few moments as Jake tilts his head, his brows pinching together out of curiosity. Noticing his expression, you allow a smile of your own to perk at your lips, leaning back in your seat as you watch him intently. "What? The answer can say a lot about a person,"

Your words cause him to pause, eyes flickering down momentarily as he thinks it over. With his bottom lip being pulled between his teeth pensively, Jake scrunches up his nose. "I feel like a dog is a generic answer, no?"

You shake your head, a laugh leaving your lips. "It suits you," You reassure causing him to send you a bright grin in return. "I'm assuming you're a dog person then, yeah?"

Visibly, Jake's eyes light up and you know you asked the right question. Watching him begin to fumble to pull his phone out of his pocket, he began to ramble out of excitement. "I have a dog actually, her name is Layla," Pulling up a photo, he holds out the device and gestures for you to grab it. As you does, Jake swipes on the screen, indicating for you to follow as it was an endearing album specifically filled of pictures of him and his dog. "She's a border collie, her birthday's on October 31st,"

"She's a Halloween baby," You coo, a smile forming at your lips at the thought causing Jake to nod along. "Layla's really pretty," You add, handing over the phone and him immediately agreeing to the latter statement displaying his obvious affection for his dog causing you to refrain from a snicker at the sight.

"Do you have pets?"

"Ah," A small pout forms at your lips as you shake your head, the expression new to Jake but it only lasted for a second. "My mom has a fear of dogs and we're both allergic to cats so the traditional pets were always out of the question. Besides, I was moving back and forth between here and the states for the past few years so there was no way to get one," Your eyes wandered out the cafe window, lingering after a young girl who seemed to be walking a dog of her own with ease and Jake felt an idea flicker in his mind.

"Jay's allergic to cats too," He threw in, glancing around the shop seeing as no one had remotely paid any attention to the two. Momentarily pausing, Jake quickly began to type along the search engine, his fingers working as fast as the wifi would allow. "Jungwon, Niki, and Sunghoon all have dogs too,"

Nodding along, you soon came to realize that rather than meeting your gaze this time when your eyes fell upon him, he was focused on his phone screen. Leaning your chin against your hand with a small smile of amusement, you tilted your head as you watched the expressions pass by Jake's features as he was practically an open book of readable emotions.

"Hey Jake," You spoke softly, earning a small hum from the boy who still hadn't budged an inch from the device. "Is cereal a soup?"

"Yeah," He responded instantly, voice airy as it was evident he hasn't put any thought behind the answer. With a snicker, you drummed your fingers along the table absentmindedly.

"Thoughts on pandas?"

"..Uh huh, they... cute,"

Refraining from a laugh, you bit down on your lower lip. "Jake," Another hum. "I've always wanted to get a nose piercing, I think I'll go soon to get more on my ears anyway. It'll look good, yeah?"

Absentmindedly, Jake nodded slightly. "You're always pretty," He spoke truthfully, still in his daze preoccupied by whatever was taking up so much of his attention but you had reached your breaking point, laughter bubbling over and loudly escaping from your lips. The sound filtered through the air, reaching his ears enough to cause his head to look up and at the sight of you leant against the table top with eyes as crescents and a wide grin, he took a second to process everything said in the last few moments properly this time. "Oh god," Jake blurts, placing his phone down as he covers face with his hands out of embarrassment.

"You're cuter than I thought," You hum, the amusement still sparkling through your bright expression. Jake had reluctantly peaked at you through his fingers, the apples of his cheeks flushed a tint of red while his nose scrunched up ever so slightly as a small laugh left his lips. Taking a moment to admire his features, you felt your dimple popping out as you sent him a toothy smile, one that certainly wasn't helping with his accelerated heartbeat and flustered expression.

There was a small buzz that vibrated along the table. The noise caused both your eyes to fall upon his still unlocked phone. Although you couldn't properly see the search results that he had been skimming through, you could see the incoming message from a 'JAYJAY PARK😻😻.'

Quickly swiping up to clear the message, Jake felt another wave of embarrassment wash over him, this time at the contact names he had been too lazy to change after the last time Ni-ki and Jungwon had stolen his phone.

Deciding against teasing him further, you glanced the other way, providing privacy for Jake to check the message in peace. He did so, seeing that it was now three texts instead of one. The first was an address, the second was the link to a dog-only pet café, the same as the one provided in the address, and the third was a complaint about how he sent the boys off into a frenzy in both the group chat and at the dorms for asking for help on his not-date with you just a few minutes ago.

Rolling his eyes at the last text, he began to type a thanks but two more gray bubbles were sent through. A picture of Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Heeseung close up staring at the screen. The message that followed read, 'Bring her back to the dorm or you're kicked out of the group ¬､¬ (P.S. JUNGWON SHOWED US PICTURES, SHE'S REALLY PRETTY HYUNG☀️☀️).'

Poking his tongue along his cheek, Jake refrained from letting out a small laugh. Typing back his response, he returned to the directions to the address after taking a quick glance at the website, deeming it fit especially considering Jay was the one who found it himself anyway. Directing his attention back up to you, who at this point were now staring out the window, seemingly people watching with interest before he let out a soft clear of the throat.

Blinking out of the daze, you flickered your eyes back to the warm brown ones already staring at your own. Seeing as how he was now unoccupied and giving you his undivided attention once again, you nodded slightly. "Everything okay?" You question, referring to the previous buzzing of his phone that was now silenced.

"Perfect," Jake hums with a boxy smile. "Did you have other plans for today?"

Raising a brow, you softly shook your head. "Aside from meeting you, no," Watching curiously as Jake quickly peaked over the table to check your now nearly empty cup, paying no mind to his own that was still halfway filled. As he abruptly stood up, which caught you by surprise, your eyes widened as he held out his hand. "What're you doing?"

"Let's go somewhere else," Was what he responds with. Still patiently holding his hand out for you to grab hold of, Jake stood with a boyish gleam of excitement, silently praying that you wouldn't turn him down. "Trust me,"

Glancing around, notably surveying Jake's attire which covered him head to toe from any noticeable characteristics, you hesitated. "Are you sure?" You ask softly, the question not due to your own feeling of resistance but rather for the circumstances and situation. Although you didn't know much about his group, from what Hiah rambled on about and your knowledge of nearly anyone related to the Hybe corporation, they had to be successful and have a large fan base. The risk of him being out on the street, especially with an unknown girl, was sure to brew a scandal if caught.

Jake leaned closer, his excitement dying down but instead the genuine look in his expression seemed to answer your worries. "Trust me," He repeats softly.

This time, you slipped your hand in his without hesitating. Allowing yourself to be pulled up from your seat, you secured the face mask back up on your face. As Jake had begun to walk with a smile and slightly swinging their still attached fingers, you stopped him short.

Carefully grabbing hold of the material that was beneath his chin, you moved it up so it sat in place along his nose, covering the lower portion of his face and hiding his notable features. "Tsk tsk Jake, I don't know about you but I don't have the dream of headlining dispatch today,"

Slipping your hand away from his own, you instead adjusted your grip around his arm, comfortably fitting between the space of his bicep while you continued onward without another word. Instead, you displayed a smile from beneath the mask, seen by your squinted eyes and bright expression.

Momentarily dazed by the skin ship as well as your bold nature that never failed to take him by surprise, Jake allowed himself to follow like a puppy although it was him who suggested the change of plans. Merely being pulled out of the café, barely lifting his eyes to bid a goodbye to the baristas at the front, he felt his stomach do an involuntary flip as your head turned to meet his gaze.

"So, where to next Jake?”

"I WANT TO take him home," You sigh, continuing to cuddle the Samoyed dog to your chest as he snuggled against you. A pout takes over your lips as his eyes shut, seemingly comfortable with the situation. "Eh Haru, what do you say? I think I should just put you in my pocket and keep you," You nod, voice softening as you spoke directly to the dog who let out a small sigh as if he understood.

From beside you, Jake sat leant against the wall, his hands absentmindedly petting the poodle who was more than happy to be getting attention at the moment. You two had arrived at the dog cafe almost 30 minutes ago. After their initial entry fee payment, you having a momentary freak out moment and practically throwing yourself at any dog that showed interest in you on the first floor which consisted of the hyper active and younger dogs, you finally migrated to the second floor of older and calmer dogs for a break.

Jake had ordered the two a set of drinks as well as a shared order of dessert waffles and as you waited in a little cubby in the corner, you two had been visited by the two dogs accompanied by now. The staff was kind enough to answer all your questions, informing you that Haru was actually the senior dog of the shop owner at 14 while Suki, the poodle who had taken a liking to Jake, had been a new addition to the café, merely 5 but rather timid and reluctant to customers however still a total sweetheart and easy to win over with time.

Thankfully, there had been no indication that Jake had been recognized so far. The main population of customers within the shop included young children with their parents or teenage couples on dates on the first floor while the second consisted of couples who seemed to be in their later 20s who enjoyed the peace and company of canines to themselves.

"Are you going to try and steal Layla away from me too on the first meeting?" Jake teases, smiling at how infatuated you were with the senior dog.

Lifting your gaze, you return the expression. "Oh, most definitely," You joke, a small shrug added while Haru places his head down on your lap, eyes shutting to rest causing your mouth to drop open and free hand to furiously gesture at the unsuspecting animal. 'Oh my god,' You mouth, wide eyed and smile shining bright as Jake lets out a small laugh at the overjoyed reaction coming from you.

He silently praises himself for thinking of the dog cafe earlier, making a mental note to thank Jay for his help. The usual calm and collected you had completely been erased, exposing a new side which you would admittedly be embarrassed of thinking back on later but for now, Jake would soak up every moment being the only one able to indulge in it first hand.

"I'm glad you like it," Jake verbalizes, echoing his thoughts while you focus your attention back to him. With your gaze softening this time as you stared back at him, you opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by Suki who interrupted the moment by allowing her tongue to swipe a slobbery kiss along Jake's cheek.

A laugh bubbles from the your lips as you watched the surprised blond jump at the contact. "I love it,"

"ARE YOU SURE this is okay?"

"Are you sure this is okay?" You repeat, gesturing around yourself as the two of you stood outside of the dorm building. "Does your manager people even know that you're bringing a random girl home?"

"When you say it like that it sounds bad," Jake whines, combing his fingers through his hair before placing the hat back on.

Letting out a snort, you shrug your shoulders. "It's the truth,"

He shakes his head. "You're not a random girl. Jungwon, Jay, and Ni-ki know you already, and besides, we met before I debuted so it's like you're a friend from the past," Jake justifies but you remain unconvinced.

"Whatever you say," You hum, patting his shoulder momentarily before letting out a breath. Sparing a final look at the building ahead, you nod to yourself before grabbing hold of Jake's arm to drag him along. "Alright, let's go,"

"W-wait!" Jake scrambles, mind fuzzy from the contact but also in a mess trying to stay calm thinking of how disastrous it'll be to have all six of his members together with you at once. "Let's go somewhere else—"

"Nope,"

Unable to resist the gentle but secure grip you had wrapped around his arm, Jake reluctantly allowed his feet to shuffle along the sidewalk. Reaching the front, you waited expectantly for him to unlocked to door, looking away as he punched in the security code, and as you heard a click, you soon came to hear the series of voices that flooded within and heavy footsteps.

On the other side of the door, an unfamiliar boy with orange hair stood, his fox like eyes were wide with surprise before he let out a dramatic gasp. "He brought her home!" He calls out, voice slightly higher than you anticipated but you barely had time to process it before he made his way toward you. Shining a pearly smile that lit up his features and gave off a warm welcoming aroma, he stopped a few feet away to not scare you off. With a shy bow, he stood slightly rocking on the heels of his feet out of excitement. "Hi noona! I'm Sunoo, it's nice to finally meet you,"

Blinking away the surprise, you reacted quickly to the younger boy. "Ah, hello Sunoo-ya," You smile, matching with a slight bow and dropping the formal use of honorifics since he did so already. Before you could speak more, three more heads popped up from around the corner.

"___ noona!"

"___-ssi!"

"You’re here!"

Ni-ki, Jungwon, and Jay all fell into place, crowding the already small entryway and causing Sunoo to pout seeing as his one-on-one time had already been stolen away. The trio bombarded the you two, the youngest stealing you away from Jake's grasp before he had time to protest and already began to lead you through as they rambled over one another.

"Yah, Jungwon-ah, didn't I tell you to stop with the -ssi stuff? It makes me feel old," You whine, a teasing smile placed on your lips as you refer to the conversation held last night and over in the group chat a few hours prior to your meeting with Jake as well. "I've known you for a couple months. We're close enough now, don't you think?"

A sheepish smile fell onto the boy's lips. "Sorry noona," He mumbles, nose scrunching up out of embarrassment causing Ni-ki to poke his side.

As they rounded the corner, you abruptly came to a halt seeing as the final two members who stood waiting in the hall. Glancing toward Ni-ki, you noted that they were the tallest of the group, one with bleached platinum hair and the other with faded pink.

"Oh," You breathe out, taken by surprise by the new faces who looked rather stoic. "Hello, thank you for welcoming me to your home. My name is ___," Introducing yourself, you allow for a bow, being mindful of your manners and mustering up a friendly enough smile to not be overbearing.

For a moment, neither of the two spoke. Their silence and expressionless gazes caused you to feel awkward and rather uncomfortable, turning your head slightly to look for Jake but he was shoved aside to the back bickering with Jungwon for a chance to step closer.

"Stop being weird hyung," Sunoo sighs, softly hitting the blonds shoulder who immediately broke out into a slight smile upon the contact.

Following like a domino, the pink haired one allowed for a laugh to bubble from his lips. Flashing a pearly white smile to you, he bowed slightly and nudged the other beside him to follow in suit, the two formally greeting you.

"It's nice to meet you ___, I'm Heeseung," He spoke.

"My name is Sunghoon," The blond adds quietly, a sheepish expression placed on his features. "I'm sorry, Heeseung hyung said to do that to see how you'd react," He mumbles, throwing the older of the two under the bus.

"Ay, Jay said she was practically unfazed by everything so I wanted to see," Heeseung defends, a smile of apology sent toward you while you merely shook your head, waving off the harmless experiment.

"Heeseung is our eldest," Jay butts in, an arm lazily leaning against your shoulder. "Hard to believe, right?" He whispers, obviously teasing but the older boy raised a brow.

"I understand that," Heeseung scoffs, the words coming out in albeit broken English but English nonetheless.

"Now that you two have played your little joke, can we please move out of the hallway?" Jungwon interrupts, gesturing to the crowded walkway and how you stood in the middle of the group of boys that huddled around you.

"Ah, the food," Jay mumbles to himself, seemingly remembering his previous obligation and making his way to the left while the others guided you to the right.

Barely having time to take in your surroundings, you looked around the living room which was surprisingly tidy for a group of seven boys that lived together. Having your bag taken away to be hung up by Sunoo, you were encouraged to take a seat on the long couch which took up the far end of the wall. As you sat in the middle, the boys filed in around you like puppies.

Jungwon, Ni-ki, and Sunoo opted for the floor, taking a seat on the pillows and blanket that were already sprawled out along the hardwood. Meanwhile Heeseung and Sunghoon filled in to your left side, keeping enough distance to keep you both comfortable. The five boys all focused their attention toward you rather than the TV screen which was displaying a now discarded Kdrama, although the elder two at least attempted to hide their excitement by not staring directly at you as the younger ones did.

Jake, who admittedly got pushed to the back of your mind in the havoc of meeting with the six other members, stood at the living room entrance. He slipped away to his shared room to put down his things but as he came back, he had to refrain from poking fun at the way they were acting to save himself from their teasing that was sure to come.

Seemingly noticing a pair of eyes on you, you allowed yourself to look up and meet his gaze. For a sliver of a second, your stiff posture lessened, relieved to see him as a small smile played at the corners of your lips. The maknae's took note of both these things, suggestive looks being sent to one another as you gesture for Jake to make his way over.

Although you had known Jungwon since February, you also knew that he was still rather timid in being entirely comfortable around you. Meanwhile, you had barely met Jay and Ni-ki the night prior, although they were wonderful, you didn't feel as at ease compared to how you did with Jake around even though it was essentially the same circumstances. Perhaps it was the fact that you had already hung out all morning, yeah, that had to be the reason you were so drawn to him.

"Hey," You whisper, smiling slightly as Jake sat himself down in the open space to your right.

"Hey," He repeats, shuffling to adjust. Feeling the multiple pairs of eyes on you, he lets out a small sigh, reluctantly peering over your shoulder to meet Sunghoon's gaze who didn't look away but rather widened in his cheeky expression instead. "What're you so happy about?"

As you turned to see what Jake was referring to, Sunghoon looked the opposite way, his face dropping void of any expression out of panic causing you to frown your brows curiously. Meanwhile, Sunoo and Ni-ki down below let out small laughs, finding amusement in the older boys antics as he was perfectly fine teasing Jake but not quite comfortable enough to let you know of his endeavors.

The sound of hands clapping progressive got louder until Jay entered the room. Gaining everyone's attention, he stood with a bright smile placing his hands on his hips and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. "The food's ready,"

The previous attention that was on the two of you along the couch was now forgotten, each of the boys getting up to run in the direction Jay came from. Leaving you and Jake on the couch, he softly cleared his throat to gain your attention.

"Are you hungry?" Truthfully, you had eaten at the dog café, and stumbled upon a street market which led to indulging in more snacks on your way to the dorm, so neither of you were necessarily in the mood to have a full meal. But you nodded anyway, pulling yourself up having figured that since the boys knew you were coming, Jay must've prepared enough food for you all and didn't want to disappoint by at least not having a bite of it.

"Let's have a little," You hum, holding out your hand to help Jake up. Nodding along, he allows himself to be pulled up. Guiding you through to the kitchen, you heard the murmur of voices and plates clattering as you made your way to the other end of the dorm.

"Noona~ come sit here," Sunoo calls out, spotting the two and patting the empty seat in between him and Sunghoon — whom of which eye's widened in surprise as he was in the middle of scooping a mouthful of food in his mouth.

"Ah, okay," You nod, moving away from Jake's side to slip into the seat. Sending Sunoo a piercing look, the red head smiled innocently at his elder member before turning his attention to you who settled in beside him.

"Jay hyung is really good at cooking, but be sure to eat or else he gets sad thinking no one liked it," Sunoo whispers to you, nodding over to Jay who stood at the head of the table serving each individual plate for the members with pride. Humming in response, you made a mental note of it and took a deep breath, preparing yourself to indulge in the meal although you weren’t anywhere near hungry.

Maybe we shouldn't have had all those snacks, you thought to yourself. Glancing around the table, your eyes locked with Jake's, who sat on the across the table one seat to your left. He was rolling his eyes at Ni-ki who was mumbling something to him before he felt your gaze.

A sheepish smile picked up on the his lips. 'I told you,' he mouths, gesturing to the loud room of boys making a ruckus eager to eat. Shrugging in response, a smile takes over your lips, surprisingly not overwhelmed by the controlled chaos.

"___-ssi," A voice interrupts. You turns your head to Sunghoon, who was hesitantly holding out a plate that Jay just finished serving for you. "This is yours," He says softly, you taking note that he was still timid in speaking to you as his eyes awkwardly darted away from yours.

Sending him a small smile, you took hold of the plate. "Thank you Sunghoon-ah," You say kindly in hopes that he lightens up. A slight smile cracks at his lips as he nods back before turning his gaze away from yours once more.

Placing the plate in front of you, your eyes widen at the food. It seems that Jay went the extra mile by making roasted pork belly along with numerous sides.

Silently praising Jay for his culinarily skills, you mentally scold yourself for having too much to eat prior, wishing you’d been able to enjoy the meal properly. Looking around the table, you noticed how he had put significantly less on your and Jake's plate compared to the others.

A small smile peaked at your lips, assuming Jake had let him know prior, the gesture from both causing you to relax. Cute.

©svmjaeyvn

[blindmagdalena]

Eat Your Ego, Honey (CH4)

homelander x oc 18+  escort services, sex work, masturbation, voyeurism, stalking, Homelander in general. see ao3 link for detailed tags. chapter index. check out the playlist!

Homelander’s session was a disaster. Layla sits in the aftermath of it, still collecting herself a good twenty minutes after Homelander has departed. Perched on the couch, she buries her face in her hands and takes several deep breaths. Now that she’s alone, she can finally process everything that happened. She can feel the furious beat of her heart in her throat, and her legs ache. Shifting sideways, she leans down to slip off the shoes. In doing so, she catches a glimpse of her calves, where she can already see distinct hand-shaped bruises forming. Her stomach flips. Delicately, she traces the outline of blossoming purple along her skin.

He’s replaced the bruise on her neck that had only just faded.

With a sharp inhale, Layla stands up. She needs to change her clothes, and get herself out of this mindset. Tears well up in her eyes in the wake of her adrenaline fading, burning as she blinks them away. She’s hyper-aware of the feel of the bruises as she walks barefoot to her closet, slipping out of her dress with practiced ease. She hangs it up, and reaches for a linen sweater and a soft pair of pants.

Over and over, Layla replays the session in her mind as she dresses, pinpointing the moment everything changed. She’s established and enforced boundaries with him before, but never has his response to them been so visceral. Something different happened today, but try as she might, Layla can’t figure out what it was. There must have been an internal trigger. “I’m not like lots of people,” he had snarled. “Do you understand that? I’m a god, and I don’t need your fucking pity.”

She had tried to humanize him, to allow him space for this vulnerability, but today she’s learned that John is so lost to the mantle of Homelander, to the weight of his powers, that he is convinced he is above such things. It doesn’t matter that he wept against her. The second it was over, he wanted her to forget it ever happened. Layla can’t forget. Looking at the dress now, it’s still spotted wet with his tears. This doesn’t feel like a man in love with his delusions. This feels like a man trapped by them. Who told you that you have to be a god? Who won’t let you be a man?

That was the moment Layla knew she needed to see the suit stripped away. The bruises on her legs were unintended, that much she is certain of. It was as if with the flip of a switch, he went from present to wholly gone, not hearing a word she said. When he did come back to himself, he let go of her immediately, and apologized in a voice so small, she barely heard it. He wore his shame clearly, self-hatred wet in his eyes. She remembers bringing him into her arms before she could reconsider. Layla knows herself better than to think of that act of comfort as an entirely altruistic one. The truth of the matter is that she enjoys both his vulnerability and his unpredictability. More and more, taming a man like Homelander is proving to be a power trip like none other. One moment he’s utterly wrapped around her finger, and the next it’s as though she’s freefalling.

Homelander is rekindling a fire in Layla that she thought long since safely fed and satiated by her line of work, and she can't bring herself to smother the embers. Distantly, the logical side of her brain screams at her that this is madness. The dull ache in her calves calls for a restraining order, not a date. Homelander is a literal walking red flag; he wears it proudly as a cape. Yet Layla’s mind is left buzzing, drowning out that shrill cry of reason.

Lying down on the couch, she wonders what he’ll wear instead of the suit.

Layla spends most of the following week talking herself in and out of the date. Up until this point, she hasn’t needed to consider the scope of John as a whole, or her actual compatibility with him. He was a client, and all that mattered was that she treated him as such. Whoever they were in the world outside of that relationship didn’t matter. Suddenly, it could very much matter. He isn’t just John, he’s America’s Homelander. Her grandmother must be rolling in her urn. They were never a particularly patriotic family, to put it lightly. She calls Jason, who’s no help at all.

“If you want to go, then go. If you don’t want to go, don’t go.” He doesn’t know what to do with her mix of exasperation and stubbornness any more than she does. She knew even as she was speaking to him that she was being irrational. She feels like she’s going insane over the whole situation. A significant part of her agony is knowing that if she could just tell Jason who it was, the details of their relationship, or if he could see the faded bruises on her legs, she’s certain that he would tell her no, absolutely not. What she cannot figure out about herself is why she’s looking for someone else to tell her “no.” She’s lived her entire life on her own terms, but there’s something about Homelander that makes her question her capacity to make rational decisions. He’s enthralling even in her thoughts, and he’s slipping into her fantasies more and more each night.

Every time she convinces herself it’s a terrible idea spurred on by mindless infatuation, Layla picks up her phone. Every single time, she hesitates, and ultimately sets it back down. Tomorrow, she tells herself. I’ll sleep on it, and I’ll know by tomorrow. Soon enough, too many tomorrows have come and gone. It’s Friday evening, and Layla is in the back of a polished black car sent to her apartment. She’s out of time, and on her way to Vought International. It’s a chilly night, so she’s opted for a coat and pantyhose, but otherwise she’s dressed precisely the way Homelander last saw her. She drums her fingers on her thighs, once more wondering if and how he’ll uphold his end of the bargain. Layla leans closer to the window, peering up at Vought Tower. The top of the tower disappears into the haze of the night sky, too tall for her to see. She’s always considered all one hundred floors of the tower to be something of an eyesore, an out of place advertisement thrust into the skyline of the city. But up close she can at least admit it’s an impressive feat of architecture. Ugly all the same, but impressive.

The car pulls around a side road that curves into a courtyard, stopping at a security check. The headquarters of a multibillion dollar corporation hardly screamed date night romance, but John had been insistent it would offer them a spectacular view, and the privacy he required in order to meet her demands. He assured her that the food would be good, promising the best steak that New York has to offer. Once they make it through security, the drive up the courtyard is slow. The pace allows her to admire what little greenery they have tucked behind the building, which is admittedly more than she expected. The finely trimmed hedges and manicured flower beds are unfortunately broken up by gaudy bronze statues of Vought’s golden age heroes: imposing metallic faces with meticulously carved eyes that seem to follow her as she passes them, lit only by the harsh white spotlights below them. It gives the whole place an eerie, artificial atmosphere, particularly in the dark of the evening. It feels more like a graveyard than a garden.

However, much of that falls away when the car pulls up to the private entrance, and Layla sees a sleek silhouette cut out against the fluorescent hall lights. There stands Homelander not in his star-spangled usual, but in a well fitted suit. At first she thinks it black, but as he approaches the vehicle the light catches it in such a way that she realizes it’s a deep navy with black accents. The black bowtie at his neck reminds her of old Hollywood, a look that would have given even Cary Grant a run for his money. I’ll be damned, she thinks, smiling broadly. The car door swings open, and Homelander extends a rare ungloved hand to her. Slipping her hand into his, she allows him to effortlessly draw her up out of the vehicle. Though Homelander returns her smile, she can see the tension at the corners of his mouth. It reminds her of the tight way he’s been smiling for the cameras for the last several weeks, and not at all of their usual comfortable exchanges during sessions.

“You look very handsome,” she tells him, reaching up to smooth her fingers along one of the lapels of his jacket. He’s a good deal more slender than the supe suit makes him appear. His shoulders are less broad without the protruding pauldrons. His torso is ridiculously bulging. Still, he is by no means a slight man. Truth be told, she finds the figure he cuts in a formal suit far more appealing. His hair is also styled more softly, looser, as if no longer needing to compensate for the bulk of the suit. Where normally she would expect him to preen under the compliment, Homelander rolls his shoulders subtly, clearing his throat. She wonders how long it’s been since anyone new (or anyone at all) saw him in anything other than his Homelander suit.

He gives her hand a subtle squeeze, and suit or no suit, there is no doubt that the power that thrums in his body is wholly his. “Thank you,” he says, closing the car door behind her. He signals the driver off with a flick of his wrist. “And you look… radiant,” he says, regaining some of his usual composure once he’s able to shift the focus onto her. His smile thins slyly as he draws her nearer. “Looks like I’ll have to warm you up again,” he said, giving her jacket a playful little tug. “Surely it won’t be as cold inside,” Layla responds, glancing over to the double doorway. “We won’t be eating inside tonight. Still, you won’t be needing it,” he responds, slipping a hand beneath her coat, settling it on her hip. Even against the night air, the press of his hand is warm as ever. The heat of him seeping through the fabric of her dress.

Layla looks up at him, expression pinching incredulously. “It’s freezing out.” “Relax,” he purrs, closing the slight gap between them with a small step. “You trust me?” She hums with a purse of her lips, wrinkling her nose at him. “Tentatively. The ice is thin.” Homelander’s smile broadens. “Good enough for me.” With that, he scoops Layla up into his arms, startling a soft noise from her. Before she can ask what would necessitate him carrying her to dinner, her stomach flips the way it does when going down a hill in a car; a sudden shift in her gravity. Looking down, she sees the pavement she was just standing on, growing more and more distant, along with the flowerbeds and statues. Inhaling sharply, Layla grabs a tight hold of his jacket, the other arm curling around his neck. Her heart leaps in her chest, pumping a surge of adrenaline through her as the ground grows more distant, and the sickly thrill of danger climbs higher. “W-wait, hold on–”

“Relax,” Homelander says again, a laugh bubbling up beneath it. “I’m not gonna drop you, alright? I’m a professional. Just breathe,” he tells her, which she’s sure is easy for him to say. The higher they climb, the more the world below them looks surreal, like the most realistic toy city she’s ever seen. “Not long to floor eighty-eight.” “Eighty-eight?” Layla echoes incredulously, her heart skipping a beat. “Look at me,” Homelander murmurs, his voice warm in her ear. She turns sharper than she means to, staring up at him with wide eyes. Once again, unbalancing her helps him recover much of his confidence. He may not have a suit to scream superhero! but flying her to the top of a one hundred storey building is certainly one way to do it. “Atta girl, see? Safer than a plane,” he says, throwing in a little wink. He chuckles at that, and she feels as though he’s making another one of those jokes she’s not privy to.

“I would have been just as impressed if you had carried me up a hundred flights of stairs instead, you know,” Layla says, flexing her grip around his neck, her stomach flipping wildly. The ground is still fading away, and when she chances a glance up, she sees they still have a long way to go. Homelander is moving slowly enough that the breeze is gentle, but the air is only growing colder and thinner as they climb. Homelander scoffs a little laugh. “I don’t believe that.” Taking in a slow breath, Layla looks out across the city. While it had been dark on the ground, from here she can see the remnants of the sunset creeping across the edges of the horizon. Above the haze and light pollution, she can even make out stars twinkling in the night sky. Not even her high rise apartment allowed her enough altitude to stargaze in the city. It’s beautiful. A tapestry of rich blues and purples dotted with constellations stretching in every direction. She can’t remember the last time she really saw the sky.

“Okay,” she relents, resting her head on his chest, gaze lazily flitting over the star-dusted sky. “Maybe not as impressed.” He hums at that, his own stare focused solely on her, smirking his satisfaction. Layla looks up at him, and the way he waggles his brows at her makes her laugh. ”But you don’t need to look so pleased with yourself,” she says, tentatively releasing her grip on his jacket to poke the corner of his mouth, where that smirk of his sits proud. “I’m drifting freely above the finest city in the greatest country in the world, holding a beautiful woman in my arms. What’s not to be pleased about?” Homelander counters, leaning into her touch. Layla opens her palm to allow for the way he pushes into it, turning a playful little gesture into something more intimate, her hand cupped to the side of his face. His words would make her roll her eyes if he didn’t speak them with such earnestness. There is so much about him that would fall flatter than roadkill on paper, if it wasn’t for the specific kind of charisma he carries. It has captured her more than she cares to admit. When she expects to hear irony in his voice, oftentimes she is met with a sincerity that she rarely sees in men of his age and status.

The air has grown thin. Layla feels light and fuzzy in this moment, warm in his arms despite the chill of the night. Their breaths mingle visibly in the cold. The impulse to kiss him strikes her, and she follows it without a thought, her thumb stroking his cheek. The edges of his smirk soften against her lips as he kisses her back slowly, unhurried, but with no less passion. Just the way she taught him. What she had initially intended to be a brief press of her lips stretches into coaxing movements, deepening with each passing second. Layla pushes her hand up into his hair, cupping the back of his head, encouraging him with a pleased little noise. Homelander’s hand tightens at her waist, under her legs. Despite the fact he’s currently flying her nearly a hundred feet directly into the air, the eager way he follows her lead as she kisses him gives her a sense of control over him that eases the drumming of her heart.

Layla falls so deeply into the kiss that she nearly misses the gentle jostle of their landing. When she opens her eyes, she’s met with a row of hanging lights, dangling prettily from a white fabric tent set up over a patio. It’s upheld by sturdy wooden beams, with a single dining table between them. Truth be told, it’s far from what Layla had expected. The singular square table is rather small, making for a much more intimate setting than she had anticipated. “It’s warm,” she says, more thinking aloud than speaking to Homelander, who hums approvingly. “State of the art outdoor conditioning. Four regulators, one in each corner. They circulate warm air, and keep the cold out. Something about creating pressure,” he says dismissively, setting Layla down on her feet. Placing his hands on her shoulders and giving a slight squeeze, he asks slyly, “May I take your coat?”

Smiling over her shoulder at him, Layla lifts her hands to unbutton her jacket, allowing him to slide it off her arms. She feels the tips of his fingers graze her bare arms, his own hands pleasantly ungloved. “Thank you,” she says, watching him fold the garment over his forearm. He offers her his other arm, and she takes it for the walk to the table. “You’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?” She asks, taking note of the bouquet of roses set at the table, and the smattering of tealights lit all around it. Instead of being set across the table from each other, the chairs were set opposite one another at the same corner. Homelander looks pleased at that, following her eye to the table setting. “Ahh, well, maybe a little.” In addition to the flowers, there are two dishes sitting under silver cloches, though only one of the two is paired with a glass of red wine, the bottle not far away. She sits down, and Homelander drapes her coat on the back of her chair, sliding it in under her. He moves to take the seat next to her, unbuttoning the bottom of his jacket as he sits.

“Hope it’s all to your liking. Prepared fresh from the kitchens,” he says, reaching out to the silver cloche set over her plate. Lifting it off, he reveals a gorgeously plated beef filet. It’s sat atop potato puree and asparagus, with what looks to be roasted fennel on top. Layla can smell the butter and thyme immediately. She smiles, closing her eyes as she inhales it. “Smells incredible,” she says, unfolding the cloth napkin to place on her lap. She had assumed as much when he had inquired about her preference between well done, medium and rare, but this was an admittedly more delicate presentation than she expected. “You don’t drink?” She asks, reaching for the wine glass next to her plate. “No, no. Not for me. Never really acquired the taste for it. Plus, it, uhh, doesn’t do much for me. I’d have to drink the whole winery for a good buzz,” Homelander explains, absently rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. When was the last time he wore a pair of pants that weren’t made of padded material with an NIJ protection level? “Touché,” Layla responds, bringing the glass to her lips. She inhales first, and then takes a sip. It’s delicious, rich and subtly fruity, but not enough to overpower the meal. Glancing at the bottle, she recognizes the label: it’s a vintage Saint Émilion, easily worth a couple hundred dollars. She gives an approving hum. “More for me, I suppose,” she says playfully, setting the glass down. “All yours,” he agrees. His smile is gradually becoming less tight, though his posture is not. He’s sitting straight with his hands on his thighs, nervous in a way she hasn’t seen him before. “Not trying to get me drunk, are you?” She asks, quirking her brow.

He huffs a laugh, leaning back in his chair, seemingly eased by the banter. “You an easy drunk?” “Not in the least. It’ll take more than one bottle,” she shoots back, smiling as she takes a sip. “Well, there’s plenty more where that came from,” he says, interlacing his hands in his lap. 

“Careful, I can become quite an expensive date,” she says slyly, cutting herself a bite of the filet. Clearly he was one to splurge. “And an even more expensive fuck,” Homelander adds without missing a beat, his tone a touch lower. The two of them sit in a dense silence while Layla chews her bite, taken aback. Homelander takes in her expression, and as he does, she can see the gears turning in his head. Some of that tension creeps back into the line of his shoulders as he realizes he may have spoken something that should have been kept a thought. He sits up straight. “Which… is to say–” he begins, trying to recover, but stops himself when Layla starts to laugh. “It’s okay,” she says, finishing her glass in a final sip. “You’re right. I’m a very expensive fuck,” she says, licking her lips. His gaze drops to her lips, following the movement with the precision of a stalking predator. He swallows visibly, eventually smiling in return. “That’s the lifestyle I chose for myself. You’re doing well in keeping up,” she says, giving her empty glass a pointed little tap. He takes the hint and picks up the bottle to refill her glass. “Why did you choose it?” He asks, setting the bottle back down. “Your lifestyle. Your… occupation.”

An inevitable question, but one that remains no less complicated to answer, regardless of how many times it comes up.

Layla gives a contemplative hum. “I’m good at it,” she says, absently running her fingers up and down the stem of her glass. “Better than I ever was in an office. Happier, too. I work when I want, I charge what I want, and I love who I want.” Homelander makes a skeptical little noise. “You don’t love those other guys, though.” Other guys. He’s specific about that, she notes. She decides not to address it for now, nor the fact that not all of her clients are even ‘guys.’ Layla takes a slow breath, and then a sip of her drink, formulating her answer. “I started escorting because I knew I would meet people like me. People who felt incapable of finding intimate connection the way everyone around them did.” She may not be drunk, but the wine has certainly helped loosen her lips. ”I have total control of who can enjoy my time, my affection, for how long, and in exchange they show me the parts of themselves they don’t want the world to see. There is true intimacy in that.” She tilts her head slightly, gauging his response. He, after all, is one such person. His posture has changed completely: he’s leaning in now, with his forearm braced on the table. She continues, “Just because it’s paid for doesn’t mean it isn’t real. I build relationships with the people I want to build relationships with.” “Don’t you think that’s dangerous?” He asks, a lilt to his voice that Layla has difficulty parsing. “Selling people on the idea that you really do love them?” “I don’t say these things to my clients. You’re my date,” she counters, taking a bite of her meal. He straightens up slightly at that, as if he’s been praised. “But no, I don’t. I do my job, and I do it well. I take precautions.”

“Precautions,” Homelander echoes. “Because it’s dangerous.” “You’re not going to tell me anything about my profession I don’t already know,” she says, amused. “I’ve been doing this for years.” “What do your parents think of it?” Layla considers him a moment. “They died when I was young,” she says. No sense in dragging that out any more than it needs to be. “My grandparents raised me, but they passed, oh… About eleven years ago.”

“How did they die?” He asks immediately, brows slightly furrowed.

She could almost laugh. While on the one hand it’s a tactless approach, it’s also refreshing. Oftentimes, that answer means a handful of empty condolences for a bunch of people the person never knew, people who died decades ago, and Layla comforting them through the discomfort associated with death and grief. Homelander didn’t even blink.

“My grandparents passed peacefully within a year of each other,” she says, swirling her wine. “She went first, and I think he just… didn’t want to be here without her,” she says, pursing her lips slightly. “My parents, on the other hand, they had a–let’s say it was a flare for the dramatic,” she says, her smile turning a little wry. “They were junkies.” Homelander’s brows lift. “Drugs?” “No, no. They were addicts, but it wasn’t for drugs. They were adrenaline junkies. It’s how they met. Skydiving,” she says, finishing off her second glass. This time, Homelander refills it without prompt. The gesture makes her smile, and she tips her glass in thanks. “They slowed down for a bit after they had me, but not for long. Eventually they started performing for crowds. You know, stunts. Motorcycles, jumps, demolition derbies. Whatever thrilled them.” “So, what… Blew up in a freak accident?” He asks, shifting to rest his hand on his thigh. This time, Layla does laugh. There’s something liberating about his irreverence. He’s not treating the subject with the kid gloves that everyone else does, and it’s clear he doesn’t expect her to, either. “More or less. They planned this… insane jump. Fitted my dad’s Pontiac with a homemade rocket. They were supposed to clear a jump over a building set for demolition, but the rocket malfunctioned. It didn’t engage until they were nearly off the ramp, and ended up just… flying them straight into the side of the building.” Looking over at Homelander, Layla cocks her head. She half expects him to laugh, crack a joke or make some reference, but he’s just watching her. She sips her drink. “You tell that story pretty straight,” he says at last. She gives a small shrug. “It’s been a long time.” He nods, tapping his middle finger on the table. “Real Thelma and Louise of them.” There it is, Layla muses. “I never knew two people more in love than my parents. They were happiest when they were risking their lives together. Can’t think of a more fitting way for two people to go out,” she says, and though she means it, even she can hear the emptiness sinking into the tone of her voice. She takes a long final drink from her wine, setting the empty glass aside. “How old were you?” He asks. He moves to refill her glass, but she lifts a hand to stop him, shaking her head subtly. He sets the bottle back down. “Twelve.” She chooses not to elaborate, despite the flood of memories that come with the answer. Homelander hums. “Really took after ‘em, huh?” Layla blinks, immediately disarmed. “I–excuse me?”

He looks surprised by her surprise. “I mean… C’mon. Sure, you’re not strapping rockets to your car or throwing yourself out of planes, but you’re not working a desk job, either. You said it yourself. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know,” he says, echoing her word for word. “You work a dangerous job, and you like it.” She can say with confidence that the last thing she expected to happen tonight was for him to start psychoanalyzing her. She huffs an incredulous little laugh, suddenly wishing she hadn’t stopped him from refilling her glass.

“That’s not the same thing,” she dismisses, smiling despite the nagging unease it dredges up somewhere in the back of her mind. “Besides, you’re hardly one to talk about occupational hazards. What made you choose to become a hero?” It’s not her most skillful conversational redirect, but she’s also three glasses deep in a very good wine. “I didn’t,” he answers plainly, his demeanor shifting alongside the direction of the conversation. Layla’s smile falters. “What?” “I didn’t choose it,” he says, voice duller yet. “It was chosen for me. I mean, c’mon. What else was I gonna be? A desk jockey? Hahah, nope.” He sucks a pitchy noise through his teeth. “Like Jesus on the cross… It was written in stone,” he says, tapping his fingers on a roll atop the table. “But do you like it?” She leans towards him, brows pinched. “Being a hero. Do you like it?” He pulls a strange face, looking as if no one’s ever asked him that before. He clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable with the direction her question threatens to take them. “What’s not to like? America loves me.” The words sound stale from his mouth. Layla can’t fault him for them, though. She’s seen glimpses of how important Homelander is to John’s identity, seen firsthand the way praise and adoration can undo him behind closed doors. It comes as no surprise that it’s something he needs to believe. It makes something in her ache for him. Layla shifts closer yet, and gently settles her hand atop his on the table, bringing the percussive tapping of his fingers to a halt. He looks at her sharply, though the set of his gaze softens. His eyes look wider, more vulnerable. Perhaps he forgot he was without his gloves, or he just wasn’t expecting the contact. Either way, it brings him back to her. She squeezes his hand. “It’s okay,” she says, her thumb stroking back and forth. “It’s okay. It’s just us. You don’t need to do that.” You don’t need to pretend. Homelander now wears the kind of surprise Layla might expect to see if she’d slapped him. He stares with his lips parted, a thought half-formed on them. He lifts his other hand over hers, fingertips brushing along the back of her hand, skating up to her wrist, light as a feather as he holds her gaze. Then next thing Layla knows, his grip on her wrist tightens and he’s pulling her body up against his. With a gentle effortlessness that only his strength could allow for, he brings them both to their feet, his other hand moving to the small of her back. The sudden rise is disorienting, but the kiss is so warm and fervent that she can’t help the little moan that escapes her. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between her lips, letting go of her wrist in favor of cupping both sides of her face. He always kisses her with such urgency, holding tight, like she may disappear if he doesn’t.

It feels incredible to match his pace, to kiss him as hungrily as he kisses her without the nagging call to slow him down, to maintain his expectations. She falls into it without reserve, free of the rigid pretense of their sessions. She can’t blame it on the wine, she’s been thinking about this for weeks. He pushes his hands further back into her hair, still kissing her like he expects her to stop him at any second, desperate to taste what he can before it’s gone. 

He moves against her with such a force, it causes her back to arch, head tipping all the way back. He takes one hand from her hair to slip around her waist instead, bringing her body back against his. She puts her own hands on his shoulders, gripping him tight and pulling him in turn. He makes sweet, starved noises against her lips when she slips her hand up into his hair, cupping the back of his head. Homelander is the first to pull away, though he doesn’t go far. He kisses the corner of her mouth, her jaw, down the line of her throat. He moves his hands to her hips to hold her steady while he takes full advantage of the plunging neckline of the dress he chose for her. “Come home with me,” he says between kisses, voice thin, ravenous. Her heart skips a beat. Say no. “Yes.” Chapter Five.

[sunskate]

Skate Ontario August Sectionals RD:

at the boards- Sheri Moir and Cara Moir for IAMO, Benjamin Brisebois for IAM, Mitch Islam, Carol Lane, Paul Macintosh and more

Juniors- Layla and Alex need to manifest drawing later numbers in the skate order lol at Next Gen they skated 3rd, here they skated 1st - it didn't matter that much here (it did a little - judge 7 Rhonda Vanderveen gave them 4.75 in skating skills - huh?), but in bigger competitions, skating this early can change your ranking bc judges are more conservative at the start

they look good, the reversed pattern is still a challenge like it was last season. they have beautiful skating quality but are losing points there. they're both so strong, and it shows in the elements - somehow when she's in the air - not talking the big lift, but other moments in the choreo - maybe it’s timing? but they maybe display less ease in that than other aspects. they're leading, but they probably deserve to be further ahead

Liv Corneil/Alex Emery from IAMO have progressed a lot in their skating and unison - they look like an IAMO team - their contact with the ice has more depth to it. they had T calls at the starts of both parts of the pattern, but they were one of the few teams who were truly on the beat for much of the paso. they're in 5th

the two IAMO teams were the only ones today with level 4 twizzles

i like the two Mariposa teams - Summer Homick/Nicholas Buelow are brand new and have gelled quickly. he's talented, partners well, and she's taking to dance quickly considering she was a pairs skater til earlier this year. this outing of the RD was more solid than at Next Gen. Martins/Kowalczyk had more difficulty today but rallied. looking forward to seeing their tango FD tomorrow. Mitch Islam looked like he was stalking the boards and dancing with them

Caroline Kravets/Aiden Dotzert are another new team - they made a big improvement over July sectionals, like they'd worked out the flow of the program more. they're in 3rd. Paul Macintosh is one of their coaches

Seniors- omg this was enjoyable lol Lily and Nathan!! i keep looking for the archived video because i want to see this again - this was hot. they look confident and like they attacked this. they're skating and performing bigger. what is it when these teams are carving big ice with deep edges - once they get their levels too, watch out

it's really interesting seeing them side by side with Bashynska/Beaumont - because they did get level 3s in the MiSt and PSt

but i noticed that B/B have these hitches in their program where Nadiia has to pretty much stop her flow - she's a dancer with a lot of training but loses her carriage at times. he does not lose his. i think it's a partnering issue, where she's having to compromise to follow him at her own expense, and he could be taking better care of her. that's my take on it today. because after noticing that about B/B, it looked pretty clear how Lily and Nathan skate more as one, and there are no hitches. they're more balanced and in tune with each other. so they need their levels! lol i know it's easier said than done. B/B and H/L are in 1st and 2nd

i adore Leia and Pietro's RD - it's so charming and full of details that are perfect with the music and the lyrics. i want the whole crowd to yell Tequila at the right moment for them, can we give them that? they nicked the boards and had a fall, but they're in 3rd

Alisa Korneva/Kieran MacDonald are newly senior and did great here. nice program, really good music cut - another Kitchener/Waterloo team with Paul Macintosh. i think Kieran's mom is one of their coaches. nice skating. though there was an off balance moment where it looked like her hand was going to go in front of his skates. idk maybe she wasn't that close, but oof

Alyssa Robinson/Jacob Portz - they had twizzle issues today, but they have one of the best of the many Saturday Night Fever RDs - they're capturing the 70s flavor well among all these disco programs. and i want to see their lift again

both Ritter/Brykalov and Roberts/Alis had new costumes since Lake Placid, Shilling and Baeten- i want to tell him not to stop performing before the very end. i'm so curious who did the choreo for all these programs - they all have good stuff and seem well considered for each team

[cecekeating]

My 612 Jordayla Analysis/Commentary and Breakdowns pt 1

OMG!! My Jordayla bears are getting married!! I almost can’t believe it! Today’s breakdown is gonna be long! I hope you are seated and ready because we are gonna be doing a deep dive into some parts of the episodes that I feel needed some extra explanation.

We start off the episode with Jordayla practicing their wedding dance. They were so cute and this scene screamed YOUNG LOVE!! From Jordan and Layla being in super casual outfits to their banter while dancing and Jordan being a complete goofball with his dance idea. Episodes 606-610 had us seeing a very mature, stable Jordan as he led and helped Layla navigate her mental health journey. I am so glad the writers put us back on regular programming to remind us that Jordan is still the unserious, lovable goofball that he is.  We even had Jordan at the beginning of the dance take a sniff of Layla’s hair or was that a kiss on her head? All through that scene, you could just see a super young couple in love with each other. Can we also talk about that dip? Because I know I am not the only one that saw and felt the sexual tension there. Layla and Jordan looking deep into each other’s soul like their life depends on it! If this is a teaser of the actual wedding dance, I fear I might not survive when this wedding airs. If you want to fully appreciate that scene, I urge you to study the gifs that @supagirl_86 shared on Twitter. You won’t regret it. 

While dancing, we find out Olivia is now Layla’s maid of honor and this means Jordan will need to pick a best man within two days - a task Jordan finds conflicting. By the way, Jordan was so unserious for that comment about Layla not having any other friends. I guess it was payback for the coach Mac boyfriend jokes in episode 608.

So we see Jordan try to talk to Spencer about the whole bestman situation. This conversation then brings up the fact that Jordan and Layla have not fully discussed where they would live after marriage. It also makes Jordan realize that he has not fully thought about what happens after they get married. What will their future look like? You can see Jordan sort of panic here and although Spencer tries to assure him, it doesn’t do much to ease his worries.

As if it was planned, the next time we see Jordan in conversation with another male character, it is with Asher. They talk about work and again, this conversation brings to light the fact that Jordan and Layla have not discussed whether they want children. Something that really struck me was Jordan mentioning that Layla is an only child and she had a tough parental situation. This means Jordan has a full understanding and picture of Layla’s childhood and how it affected her. I want you to have this at the back of your mind because I will be expanding on this further in the write up. Jordan panics again because now he is not sure if Layla wants children. He wants to be a father but he doesn’t know if Layla is on the same page with him. 

I want us to pause here because when this came on my screen at first I was like “huh?”. How on earth will the writing tell us that Layla and Jordan have not communicated about being parents or wanting to live together? I thought about this for a while and I have concluded that there are two parts to this arc for Jordayla. 

The first part is the writing wanting the decision about having children and living together to be on screen with the audience being privy to Layla’s POV. It is super realistic that this came up at this time because the wedding got pushed up within a month. This means that there was so much that they never got to talk about and handle because they had to put finishing touches to the wedding plans. I think the biggest reason why Jordayla did not also have this conversation is due to what they went through this season. Everybody and their mama knows that Jordan and Layla went through it with her mental health and the recovery process. Layla was not in the right headspace at all to discuss living arrangements or even having children. All through this mental health journey, Jordan was laser focused on Layla being her best mentally and emotionally. There was no time to discuss housing plans or even parenting. Don’t forget that Jordan wanting them to look to the future and eventually move in together was actually one of the causes of her triggers and eventual decision to wean off her medications. We all know how that went. 

It totally makes sense that Jordan and Layla have not had a full blown discussion about where to live and whether they want children when you consider what they had to deal with as Layla struggled with her mental health. 

Now let us go to the cabin episode in 606. I know a lot of the citizens of Jordayla nation brought up this episode to push back at the writing for Jordayla in this episode. This cabin episode was used to plant the seeds on two key issues that Jordayla will handle before marriage - home and children.  In the scene where they are talking about their top three priorities, can you remember the look Layla shared with Jordan when Catience spoke about buying their own home? I remember watching that scene and predicting that Jordayla had either discussed their housing situation OR Jordan/Layla had made plans about getting a home. That part of the scene was sort of a foreshadowing that the living situation will be discussed in future. Remember that this happened after the whole back and forth with Jordan wanting Layla to move in with him.

In that same scene, we had Jordan share his top three priorities. When he said he wanted to marry Layla, we saw Layla’s reaction. She gave a huge smile indicating that she was on the same page with him. When he spoke about starting a family however, we didn’t see Layla’s reaction. That scene established that Jordan wanted a family and what the writing wanted to do by not showing Layla’s reaction was to have the audience wondering if that was what Layla wanted as well. We saw her reaction to wanting to get married, why didn’t we see her reaction to starting a family? This however flew over our heads because it was already canon in episode 406 that Layla wanted to be a mom. So there was nothing for us as the audience to guess or wonder about as we already knew she wanted to be a mom one day. 

In a way, episode 606 was written to have the audience ask the questions: would Jordan and Layla get their own place after marriage and does Layla want to start a family with Jordan? Episode 612 answered those questions and sort of brought it full circle. It is also not lost on me that this episode that dropped clues on Jordayla and their future was the same episode where Layla mentioned that her number one priority was marrying Jordan and they should set a date for the wedding. They were on course to plan the future until the incident with the vandalism set them back. 

I continue in part two.

[richincolor]

Book Review: Unbecoming

Title: Unbecoming

Author:  Seema Yasmin

Genres:  Contemporary/Speculative Fiction

Pages: 352

Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

Review Copy: ARC by publisher

Availability: Available now

Summary: Two Muslim teens in Texas fight for access to abortion while one harbors a painful secret in this funny and heartfelt near-future speculative novel perfect for fans of Unpregnant .

In a not-too-distant America, abortions are prosecuted and the right to choose is no longer an option. But best friends Laylah and Noor want to change the world. After graduating high school, they’ll become an OBGYN and a journalist, but in the meantime, they’re working on an illegal guide to abortion in Texas.

In response to the unfair laws, underground networks of clinics have sprung up, but the good fight has gotten even more precarious as it becomes harder to secure safe medication and supplies. Both Layla and Noor are passionate about getting their guide completed so it can help those in need, but Laylah treats their project with an urgency Noor doesn’t understand—that may have something to do with the strange goings-on between their mosque and a local politician.

Fighting for what they believe in may involve even more obstacles than they bargained for, but the two best friends will continue as they always together.

Review: Unbecoming is such a timely novel that it is almost scary. Seema Yasmin has created a world that I could easily see becoming a reality and that is terrifying. And that is the feeling I had when I finished the novel - terror. While the story does end on a hopeful note, the terror at the lack of access for women’s healthcare remains in Laylah and Noor’s world, and they are having to continue to fight. 

The novel is very fast paced as it spans over the course of a week as Laylah discovers she is pregnant and actually has to live the guidebook she and Noor are creating, in search of mifepristone. The desperation that she feels as time ticks away really comes through and some of the experiences she has, all of them extremely unsafe, truly reinforce how dire lack of access to abortions would be. Laylah had her whole life planned, so this one small hiccup has her spiraling. She is afraid to tell anyone, even her best friend, as she is afraid of losing respect from her friends and family. I really felt for Laylah, because having more info as the reader than Laylah, I knew that would not be case and wished greatly she would share her pain. But the feeling of isolation that Laylah feels only heightens the novel and really hits home how important teens need to have safe spaces with regards to their healthcare. There were so many moments where I was tense at a situation Laylah found herself in and greatly wished for someone to come in and save her. 

On the other hand, Noor wonders what is wrong with her best friend, but at the same time is also on a journey of her own to discover shenanigans at their mosque. She is a journalist who still believes in fighting for the truth and is willing to do what she can to reveal those truths. This leads her to team up with a fellow classmate and has them survelling the wife of the mosque’s Imam. They search to uncover a conspiracy they believe a local politician and business person are involved in, only to discover the situation is not what they believed. Noor is very steadfast in her convictions and is willing to stand up for what is right, that includes standing up to her journalism teacher who would rather she stick to non-controversial and political topics. I loved this trait in Noor as she is a prime example of how well informed her generation is and is willing to fight for the future they want. 

While the novel has some extremely tense moments, it does have moments of levity. Laylah’s auntie and her friends bring some lightness but also wisdom. When Laylah disassociates it comes in the form of a Bollywood film full of spectacle which gives a brief moment of ease in an otherwise tense moment. This book is also definitely about sisterhood and the moments that Laylah and Noor are together is like a warm hug. 

This book was so good and intense and moving that the real takeaway is that everyone should read this novel and put themselves in Laylah’s and Noor’s to understand, no feel, what could happen in our country if women’s access to healthcare is taken away. 

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Gym Membership - Part 20 (Crosshair)

Summary: Layla and Crosshair have a decision to make

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

You are all amazing and beautiful. I just wanted to tell you that in case no one has. I'm so excited, I'll be on vacation as of this Friday afternoon, and I can't wait! I need a break from work. It'll give me time to work on some writing projects. I'm really trying to catch up guys, I'm so sorry some of the other stories are being delayed, but I am working on them.

Love oo.

Warnings: Discussions of seizure, ventilators, body changes, grief, frustration, annoyance, irritations, revelations, medical drugs. I think that's it. If I miss any warnings, please let me know.

AO3 Link   |   Words: 1,071   |   PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

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My eyes focused on Crosshair’s concerned face, and for the first time ever, I felt ashamed to have been irritated simply because of his presence. I glanced away, taking in a deep breath, I could feel my heart beating faster, as my blood ran cold. I couldn’t help thinking, if this was how he felt, whenever he had to be the one giving me bad news.

 “Um …” I clenched my hand against the book on my lap, trying to steady my nerves, “Doctor …” I cleared my throat, “Doctor Williams came by earlier today. She … uh, Avery … she had … she had a seizure. It was pretty bad, Crosshair. Doctor Williams seems to think the longer she’s on the ventilator the more she’ll begin to deteriorate.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, “We knew that would happen, they literally went over possible side effects when they put her on the ventilator.” Crosshair gritted his teeth, Layla’s inability to let go was making this harder than it needed to be for all of them, “Layla, it’s almost been a year, since she’s been on it. What did you think was going to happen?” As soon as the words flew out of his mouth, he regretted it. He knew better, he knew how hard this whole situation had been for Layla. Him griping about it, wasn’t going to help the situation, he ran his hands through his buzz cut, doing his best to ignore his own frustrations.

“I know.” I rubbed my forehead, hoping the pressure there would ease off, along with the irritation knowing Crosshair was right when he was against putting her on the ventilator to begin with. “Anyway, Doctor Williams says … um … we need to make a decision, the seizures are becoming frequent and more intense. He said they needed to increase her dosage once again, which is going to start affecting her heart. He also believes the last seizure worsened her brain injury.”

Crosshair threw his back against the chair, the weight of the world seemed to be crashing on him. He ran his hands over his face, and back over his hair, he pulled himself forward until he rested his elbows on his knees. He kept his face hidden in between his arms, not wanting Layla to see how much of a toll this had actually taken on him. He let out a saddened sigh, he knew this day was going to come, but somehow he didn’t imagine it would’ve been so soon or even on the heels of losing Kamarie. “You know where I stand on this. Where I’ve always stood” he answered his voice a little exasperated.

“Oh, I know” my voice was curt and annoyed, it wasn’t so much because of his unmoving attitude, it was because of how fast he came to that decision, “I’ve known where you stood from the moment she was admitted.”

“Oh god, here we go” Cross stood, walking over to Avery’s other side, wanting to ignore Layla’s attitude, and her constant badgering. She always resented the fact he was ready to let Avery go, and somehow she had misunderstood that to mean he didn’t love Avery, when in fact it was the opposite. 

“Yes, here we go” I stood from my seat, tossing my book down, “Every time I try to have a discussion about Avery, you always do this.”

Cross gripped the side rail as his eyes focused on Avery, “I always do ‘what’? You asked me what I thought, I told you, you know where I stand. I never wanted her to be on the ventilator. Avery always said this kind of life was torture for her, she wanted to be set free before having to be hooked up to all these …” he motioned to the wires, tubes, and monitors.

“Life-saving equipment”

Crosshair turned and looked at Layla,  “Life saving for who? Cause from what I’m seeing, she’s suffering, and seeing her like this breaks my heart Layla.” He turned his attention back to Avery, his hand reached down, gently squeezing the frail hand that had become so foreign to the one he had learned to love. It no longer contained the same strength or warmth it had once, the memories he contained of those hands running through his hair, caressing his cheek, massaging his back, that’s all they’ll ever be now. Memories of a time long gone. 

“She doesn’t look like herself” he continued, trying to explain why he was adamant about his decision, “I mean look at her cheeks, they’re all sunken in. Her skin doesn’t have that glow it used to have, not to mention she’s lost so much weight,” his other hand gently stroked her cheek remembering how plump they used to be. 

I couldn’t believe my eyes and what I was seeing. Tears welled up, as I saw how tender Crosshair was being with her. It shocked me to my very core, especially, when truthfully I never realized … no, I never wanted to recognize how much he really loved her. Then again the only time I saw them together, was in a picture Avery had sent me. She did mention over and over again, how sweet he was, how kind he was, how stubborn and pigheaded he could be at the same time. I dismissed him out of hand, simply because I needed someone to blame, and he was the perfect target. My eyes focused back on Avery, as tears welled up in my eyes, I’d been keeping her on the ventilator, unwilling to let her go, regardless of what it was doing to her. As he pointed out how different she looked, it felt as though a cloud had been lifted from my eyes, I had simply thought of my pain, not his. 

Silence filled the room as Cross focused on Avery and Layla kept her focus on Cross.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Cross rested his hand on top of Avery’s head, his thumb rubbing her forehead, “I did. I do.”

“Did?”

Crosshair let out a sigh, “I do love her. I’ll always love her, she was my best friend for years. Understood me better than most.”

“How did you guys meet?”

Cross looked at Layla, “She didn’t tell you?”

I shrugged my shoulders, as I retook my seat, “I want to hear it from you” he simply nodded as he focused his attention back on Avery.

“All right …”

AO3 Link   |   Words: 1,071   |   PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

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@justanothersadperson93​ @liadamerondjarin​ @badbatch-simp24​ @spicymcnuggies​ @lady-ren​ @firstofficerwiggles​ @darkangel4121​ @discofern​ @kavecika​ @monako-jinn-stories​ @ladykatakuri​ @avathebestx​ @theroguesully​ @furyhellfire66​ @carodealmeida​ @ciramaris​ @sprout-fics​ @twinkofthedink​ @dindjarin-mandalorian​ @clonethirstingisreal

[xmennloganlover]

Prologue.

It was a bright and clear day. In a secluded area in New York, where there were trees around, a beautiful lake, and a warm cozy Cabin fit for five individuals. Or a five mutant family.

Rose Maximoff, a powerful mutant witch, was on the porch of the Cabin, watching over her 7 year old daughter, Laura Kinney, and her 5 year old son, Noah Howlett. The two little mutants were playing around with each other. Noah, having super speed, kept messing around with leaves and rocks, while Laura, having adamantium claws just like her father, tried scaring Noah into a tree or, a log.

“Mom! He keeps cheating!” Laura looked over at her mother, crossing her arms.

Rose lets out a chuckle, looking over at her.

“Honey, you know he has super speed, why try tripping him or scaring him.” She moved from the porch, stepping down the small steps towards her kids. She used her own abilities to make Noah stop in place.

“Now, you both wash up, it’s dinner time. Your dad should be here-“ Before Rose was even done with her sentence, there were footsteps right next to them. Rose turned her head to see her husband, Logan. The one and only Wolverine. He was holding their last and finally child, 3 year old little girl, Layla Howlett.

“What’s this about dad being home? Do I need to send someone into the timeout corner or, tickle two troublemakers to death?” Logan looked down at Laura and Noah who both were shaking their heads, which made Logan snicker. “Now you heard your momma, go wash up for dinner time.” And with that command, Laura and Noah went back into the cabin, sorta a little intimidated of their dad, just a smidge.

“My hero. Finished taking Layla out to see the wilderness?” Rose looked up at Logan, taking Layla from his grasp with such care and ease.

“Little thing was so curious about a leaf, that she tried eating it.” Logan’s arm wrapped around Rose’s waist, with a small grin appearing on his lips. “Well, I hope you’ll enjoy dinner tonight, I made some pasta with just a hint of spice.” She replied, while Layla played with her mother’s hair.

Logan’s grin turned into a soft smile, “Y’know, I never thought, that id have this life, these amazing kids, this.. calm and collective life, and an incredible woman that I get to call my wife.” Logan looked down at her, “Thank you, Rose. For meeting me way back when, and for being the first one to give me this love and a family.”

The words of affirmation and gratitude, that was something Rose was getting used to for a while. All the trouble they went through, all the pain they suffered, and all the heartaches they had. It was completely overwhelming, but at the end of the day, they always had each other…

The day Rose met Logan, was interesting to say but, she never knew what she’d become like.

It all started with a simple greeting.

( FINALLY POSTED THE PROLOGUE! Please I hope you all love it! I worked hard! Please and thank you! Thank you for reading!)

[dancingtotuyo]

Home | Part 0.5

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x f!reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Frankie tells you he’s leaving.

Warnings/Tags: established relationship, girl dad!Frankie, swearing, fighting, drug addiction, recovery

Notes: a little prequel of sorts to this beautiful little story and family that I love.

Thank you to @fhatbhabie and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for putting your beautiful eyes on this baby!

Words: 1368

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

When you see the headlights in the drive, you expect Frankie to stumble in on the shoulders of one of his buddies. You wait by the backdoor to silence them the moment they stumble in so they don’t wake the sleeping infant you spent an hour putting to bed. You don’t mind drunk Frankie or stoned Frankie. You like seeing him relaxed and enjoying himself. It’s coked out Frankie you worry about. It flashes before you each time he heads out for an evening.

You trust his friends. They’ve been through literal war together. It’s him you worry about. You worry he’ll slip away from the group. It only takes minutes- seconds even.

The headlights shine across the worn siding for too long before they cut off and Frankie rounds the corner, perfectly stable on his two feet. He stops between the house and the truck, cell phone pressed to his ear. He pinches the bridge of his nose, removes his hat from his head and runs a hand through the curls before putting it back on his head. You can’t make out his words through the door, but you recognize the cadence. He’s speaking spanish. A hand lands on his hip as he turns, eyes landing on yours. He stills. Then turns away. A pit settles in your stomach.

It settles in your bones.You know who he’s talking to. You’re not going to like what he has to say. When he turns around, you’re not there anymore.

You know before the back door squeaks open. It’s always two knocks on the side of the house, three stomps on the doormat. Your hands are submerged in steaming, sudsy water as you work through the ever piling mountain of dirty dishes.

Frankie hears it as he eases out of his boots, the extra clink as each dish is placed on the drying rack. Each one sends a cringe through his body. He stands in the doorway between the mudroom and kitchen, watching you under the single kitchen light. Your shoulders are tense. He catches the flashes of rage from your eyes off your reflection in the window.

“Have a good night, Fransisco?” Your back stays turned to him.

He closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. “Fuck.” He practically mouths.

One plate hits another with enough force to break it if it weren’t Corell.

“Layla asleep?” He cautiously works his way toward you.

“It’s after midnight.”

The dish rack rattles again.

“Baby…”

You drop the silverware in your hand, spinning to face him. “You said you were done!” Your wet hands hit against his chest. “We agreed no more!”

Frankie captures your hands, holding them to his chest. The water seeps into his shirt. Tears prickle your vision. He’s not sure what to say, other than you’re right. “I’m sorry.” It scratches his throat as it comes out.

“That’s it? That’s all I get?”

“It’s seventeen grand,” He says. “Just recon. I’ll be back in a week.”

You scoff, pulling away from him. “It’s never just anything with the five of you. Never just one with you.” You don’t even try to hide your tears, your fears.

Frankie swallows. He should shut up. He really should. He won’t be able to convince you. He knows that. It’s like coke, always telling himself no more and just one more. One more won’t hurt. It’s a weak argument, but it’s all he’s got left. He’s not excited about this. You can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t want to go, but you know you won’t be able to talk him out of it.

“They need a pilot.”

“And Layla needs her father!” You yell. You want to scream it until the walls rattle and Pope rescinds the offer.

It falls quiet, a silent war raging between the two of you. He tries to step forward, grab your hand, but you step back out of reach. Then, Layla’s wails raise.

“Fuck,” You sigh, shoulders falling in defeat.

“I can-”

You put your hands up to stop him. “I think you’ve done enough, Frankie.”

He sighs as you walk away from him. Layla’s cries slowly fade away. Frankie clenches and unclenches his fists over and over. He wants to punch a wall or kick a chair. He wants to yell at the world as his heart tears between his entire world sitting in the bedroom and his duty to his brothers. He wishes Santiago had never come back and dragged him back into a world that makes him feel like he’s drowning.

The need courses through him, soothing all the rest. It’s unnerving how it sneaks up and pushes the rest of the world away. Rubbing his hands together, Frankie chews on his lip. His eyes flicker to the back door and then down the hall to your closed bedroom door. It would be so easy to slip out. He licks his lips. You would never know.

He’s so close to doing it. In two long strides across the kitchen, he could grab his truck keys. He passed his dealer in the same alleyway as always, a strip mall 8 minutes down the road. His muscles twitch as he almost follows his thoughts, but Layla’s sweet squeal echoes down the hallway, gluing him to the floor.

His body screams at him. The next high is only 8 minutes away. Another precious giggle. Your tired laugh follows, Nails dig into his palm. Layla is 8 steps away.

He can’t move.

He doesn’t move.

He stands there in the kitchen light for hours. Finally, his heartbeat evens out. His feet break free, carrying him to the shower where he grapples with his choices. He’s going to South America. You’re mad. He’s going back on his promise. It repeats in his head until the water runs cold, kicking him from its comfort.

He eases into your room, the soft hall light casting a warm glow over your face until the door clicks behind him. He drops his clothes in the hamper, tosses his hat in the direction of the dresser.

He looks down at Layla sleeping. He can’t make out the rise and fall of her chest in the dark. His anxiety sparks until he touches her back and it’s there steady and rhythmic.

He’s careful not to disturb you as he crawls into bed. His old ARMY shirt rides up around your thighs. You still carry the baby weight, particularly around your stomach and thighs, and it drives Frankie insane. He’s constantly fighting the urge to grab the extra parts of you. He loves it.

His rough palms slide over your thighs. Slipping under the shirt, he rests his hand in the soft folds of skin just above your underwear. He presses a kiss to the crook of your neck. Cool water droplets fall from his wet curls.

You inhale sharply, chest quivering as you let it out. Frankie pauses, holding his breath in anticipation. He assumed you were fast asleep.

It's quiet between you. The box fan roars in the window, pushing the humid Florida air around. The red alarm clock number changes. His brain shuts off as he waits for you to speak, to tell him to leave and not come back.

“When do you leave?”

Frankie’s muscles release slightly. His fingers trace little pictures along your stomach. “Thursday.”

You nod, staring straight ahead. You won’t cry. You refuse. “Just a week?”

“Just a week.”

You turn to face him, hands cupping his face. “You promise?”

He brushes the back of his hand across your cheek. “I promise.”

“I mean it, Frankie.” A choke bites at your throat. You push it down. “I can’t do this alone. We need you.”

The tears that sting your eyes finally fall. Frankie presses his forehead to yours, hand cupping the back of your neck. “I promise, baby.” He mumbles into your skin. “Just recon. 7 days.”

You nod, arms slipping around his waist. You beg for his proximity. He obliges.

He whispers the promises to you in English and Spanish over and over until your eyes fall shut. As they do, you can’t escape the sinking feeling that he’ll break every single one.