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imagineofallkindsxxx · 9 months ago

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Chapter One - Celebrations (Stewy Hosseini x OC!Roy)

Summary: Dr Lauren Roy couldn't care less about the empire her father created. She was happy being an ED doctor until something happened on Logan Roys birthday

11 months after starting at Bellevue Hospital

A car crash. That's how I would describe my childhood and adolescence but today it was in a more literal sense.

"23 year old female car collision, stab wound to the abdomen, possible internal bleeding" a paramedic barges through and informs the doctors, myself included. I point them towards the resus area where I can have a better look to see what I am dealing with just before I hear another paramedic arguing with a patient and her partner informing other doctors of his status.

"34 year old male, passenger in car collision in back seat. Doesn't seem to have any obvious or severe injuries but possible concussion." After hearing argument from behind him about 'being fucking capable' he added "not a fan of hospitals… or people. Good luck"

"Fantastic. Thanks Jay" I say as the duo leave the hospital. “Lewis,” I shout on the first year resident, first shift best to baptise by fire, “can you treat male in bay 5 possible concussion. Hannah how's our stab wound patient?" Walking over to Hannah Williams my best friend in this place and fellow physician.

"X-ray and ultrasound show she's bleeding into her left lung." She informed me on the status of the poor young girl.

"OK we'll need to cut into her lung, Sofia can you give her 5 milligrams of morphine?" As Hannah hands me a scalpel. I cut into her side putting a chest tube in to ensure the blood is no longer in her lung. "Get her to the OR now" I say to the porters who were on their way to take her to the operating theatre

“Dr Roy” I hear as I walk out the doors checking my phone to see 5 missed calls from Shiv and 10 messages from Roman. The young resident getting my attention. "Yes, Dr Hamilton," I said trying my best not to get irritated at the new physician, not his fault it is my dearest father's 80th birthday which I am thankfully late for but sure my siblings will not agree. “The patient with a concussion. He's asking to be treated by you” I look at the clock I have five minutes of my shift left sure I can tell an asshole that he's fine take some paracetomal and fuck off. But as I look up I genuinely contemplate grabbing a scalpel and slitting my wrist with it. I nod to Ethan telling him it's fine I'll deal with him grabbing discharge papers as I do so.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“'Wow Laurey have to work on your bedside manner”

“Shut the fuck up, why are you making my residents life hell? Just sign the fucking papers Stewy"

"Aww can't italk to my favourite Roy?" He said condescendingly to which I just glare back

''Thought that was Kendall. Well from what iheard from your college days he was” he laughed

'You jealous?'

that caused me to roll my eyes. A thing that happens regularly when business bros are in my vicinity “oh and the girl is most likely going to be fine by the way. Not that you'd care, too busy thinking about ways to sue her for crashing precious Mercedes.' Now was his turn to roll his eyes

“it was a Ferrari actually” Making me roll my eyes “Thought you had a special get together with daddy dearest? Or are you 'busy' again?" Oh what a fucking shock, changing the subject. Some things never change I suppose.

“I'm supposed to be but instead I'm trying to get some prick to sign discharge papers and get out my ED.” He laughed at that knowing I'm in no rush when he saw me decline a call from Marcia.

‘Calm the fuck down sure your rushing to get there” I once again roll my eyes and just three papers down walking away shouting over my shoulder

“Just sign the fucking papers” before rushing to the staff shower room.

**************************************

I get out of the taxi as my car is in the shop once again just outside my father's building walking in the doorman nodding at me before stepping into an old fashioned elevator. Heart racing as I go up. Last time I saw my family together was nearly a year ago. I love my siblings, me and Roman chat regularly and I meet Shiv every second Tuesday for drinks, usually just her bitching about the family or her job... or her boyfriend really her life which is ironic for a daughter of a billionaire. She is the definition of first world problems. I think Shiv doesn't think of me as a threat and a sort of fucking therapist for her to be honest. I just wish we grew up like that instead of having such an intense rivalry until I came back to New York.

The doors open to show the majority of my family as well as others I am not so familiar with. No dad or Kendall. What a shame.

Marcia intercepts me at the door welcoming me in from the harsh cold to the lovely and fake warmth of their apartment. she always seemed most fond of me out of my siblings, suppose it may be because iactually respect her but who knows might be a coincidence.

“Oh look. The black sheep finally graces her with her presence” roman says to which I roll my eyes at as he pulls me in for a very awkward hug “ew why do you smell like dead people”

I pulled back right away "I don't smell like dead people. How do you know what dead people smell like”

“I mean I don't but your what I expect dead people smell like.”

"You’re a disgrace to society"

"What every twin wants to hear"

"Shut the fuck up"

"You shut the fuck up, you whore"

"Prick"

“Will you both stop” I hear, Connor split the two of us up. I turn around and he gives me a small smile. “How have you been, Laur?”

'I'm good Con, been busy with work and stuff but just getting on with it.” binning off any other aspects of my life, as if there are any. Then I see next to my eldest sibling, a younger very pretty girl “Who's this?” I ask.

“This is Willa. She's sort of my date for tonight.” Willa gave a small wave to which I smiled in greeting “lovely to meet you Willa. I'm going to get a drink. See you around.” igrabbed a champagne flute and looked around seeing that almost everyone had everyone with them, even Connor had a fucking escort but no way in hell would I bring anyone to a family affair, like bring a lamb to slaughter. I checked my phone praying that there was an emergency and didn't have to face this delightful dinner that chefs who will get not recognition made us but alas no messages or miscalls.

“Quiet. Get into a spot. Logan is here” Marcia informs us

“We're surprising him?” I asked anyone near

“Last time isurprised him he fucking decked me” Rome added to which majority of people ignored only few knowing first hand the pain Roman and myself went through. I just managed to break free of the toxicity, Roman did not.

When the doors of the elevator opened to show Logan he looked surprised and put on a fake smile as all the party guests gave him his presents. You could tell it was faked if you looked close enough.

Connor proceeded to give dad bread goo? When asked the question most were thinking he said it's the basic recipe for sourdough bread. Does he even eat sourdough? It was then time for me to give him my gift.

“Know you have a million of them but here you go. Happy birthday dad.” giving him an engraved watch and a small cupcake I made earlier that day. He looks at me and the watch. Then pulls me in for an extremely awkward hug.

“Thanks for coming Lauren.” he says with all seriousness “I really appreciate it”. I look past him to see Shiv lipsing 'what the actual fuck' to which she shrugged her shoulder. When he broke away the elevator doors opened again showing Kendall this time, my father having a disappointed look in his eye when he saw the second eldest child. As I went to take another drink of my champagne I realised I was empty. I looked around for a very underpaid waiter to see Tom standing to my left handing me a glass.

“Thanks Tom” I say with borderline distaste, after everything I have heard from Shiv wouldn't be shocked if he starts on chatting business with me

“No problem for my favourite sister in law” to which I side glance but before I could reply to the partner of my only sister Logan had reappeared with Kendall and told all the children to meet him in the side room. I certainly will need my champagne for whatever bullshit that is about to occur.

Checking my phone, praying for one last miracle iwalked through the door following the rest of my siblings. Rome teasing Connor for his bread making tactics

“Yeah sure he can let it rise when he's doing his yoga.” My twin quips to our eldest sibling. Logan then enters the room shutting the doors behind him.

"What's this all about Pa?" Connor questions the patriarch of the family

"it's about the family trust." He began grabbing all of our attention mostly out of curiosity on my part "it will divide the succession in the event of my unlikely demise. i'm going to add Marcia to myself, and you five" I let out a laugh oh the shit show this is going to cause.

"And my seat also to go to her on my death --" even I stood up at that point thinking that this idea was fucking dreadful and I only understood about half of what is going on.

"Whoa? Okay?" Shiv questions looking at me with her "what the fuck is going on' look

"Which would give her double weight?" I say not 100 percent sure if I was understanding all of this correctly

"Uh-huh. So I've got the paperwork for you-"

“Wait wait wait... so Marcia will have two vote when you -" Kendall says,confirming it for not just himselves but those around him also the worry being shown in all our faces

“If" Roman tries to correct, obviously avoiding thinking of the inevitable.

"No Rome. When" Connor tells him

"Well excuse him if he doesn't want to think of our father's death" I stand up for him leaning against the wall as Rome sits properly on the chair he was once sitting upside-down on

"Well it not really about what we want" Connor snacks back

"Kendall has already signed" but the look on his face told a completely different story.

"Two votes? I wasn't really made aware-'' Kendall tried to defend himself failing spectacularly

"Read the small print asshole." Roman bitched back, logan handed out a bunch of papers out to the five of us to ensure we read and had a copy of the contract

While all were glancing through it Shiv said "I mean this looks... I’m going to have to get my lawyer to look over all this just for all the implications"

"Sure, take a beat." He replies making it seem as if we have a choice "right look. I love the bread goo... but this is what I really want." staring us down with his determined yet 'I’m doing you a favour' look as he went on to say “so until four? Good." walking towards the door as if he was about to leave until he turned back around as if he remembered something “oh and I also mentioned to Kendall. Despite the chatter and all things considered, I'm going to give it a couple years" I look around the room in confusion

"as in?" I questioned my father

"I'll stay in situ as chairman. CEO. Head of the firm '' that not only made Kendall raise his eyebrows as if this was new to him but also made me take a sip of my drink as if I was at the cinema watching a movie eating popcorn. Roy events are always like this when you have fuck all to do with the business. I glance towards my twin giving him a questioning look where he just shrugs his shoulders as if saying 'fuck if he knows."

"Wait what?" Kendall stutters out confused by this new development.

"Son it doesn't matter we can announce your in pole position, pending events, moving up whatever." Me and Roman once again make eye contact with him whispering to me 'wow' and trying to hold back a laugh at the look of anger and despair on my second eldest brother's face. "Come on, let's go and eat" before the dad of the five siblings walks out of the room.

"Ok can I just start by asking: What the actual fuck?" I started as soon as he was gone looking around at my brothers and sister letting out a surprised laugh

"Fuck" Roman breathes out trying not to laugh also, covering his mouth in the process.

"What are you laughing at?" Kendall accuses us both as we both try to stop looking so amused by the look on our brother's face.

"We're not even laughing" Roman says while covering his mouth to quiet down as I took a drink to swallow any giggles.

"He's going to lose all credibility of the firm" Kendall dismisses us talking to the entire group as though me and Connor could give a shit. Connor only cares about his allowance to pay his hooker. We couldn't care less "Does he look okay to you?" Kendall continues acting as if he had a fuck about dads health in any capacity.

"C'mon, Ken. This is typical, its dad" Shiv tells our brother insinuating that he is a twisted fuck who ruins any of his childrens slightest chance of happiness or achievement.

"I'm out. I’m not playing. Whatever you guys decide I'm going with but I’m out" our eldest brother says walking out the doors to the main part of the apartment. "On the trust I refuse to play. I'm water, I flow." My eyebrows raise at that analogy but to be fair to him I'm on the same wavelength.

"Yeah, I'm same as Con. Rome pick for me and I'll sign'' throwing my papers down next to my brother and walking out the room hearing im curse me

"Choose you fucking self, fuck face"

As I shut the door I bump into a tall sort of scrawny looking guy

"Jesus Christ" nearly falling on my ass trying to avoid him

"I am so sorry!" he exclaimed apologetically "I should have been looking where I was going. I'm sorry." the boy in front of me managed to stutter out. I took pity on the poor boy couldn't be younger than 28

"It's fine. Don't worry about it" giving him a small smile before carrying on before he took that as an opportunity to continue the conversation.

"I'm Greg. I'm Logan's brother's grandson." he explained his connection to the family

"Cool, uh, I’m Lauren. Logan's daughter" unsure on how to carry on with this conversation Marcia comes to the rescue telling us it's time for lunch. Maybe I should sign those papers after all.

Kendall barges through to the dining hall before we have a chance to go through. You could hear the arguing through the door, Greg beside me questions

"Uh, does this happen a lot?"

"You mean the chaos, arguing and fucking each other over? Every time we meet." I give him a wide smile as the doors open "Welcome to the family"

We all sit down to our places, putting myself next to Roman chatting along with him about some bullshit side quest he's doing now. Think it was something to do with fashion which makes no sense as I’m pretty sure Grace fucking dresses him. Then someone speaks out to Marcia

"Marcia this is delicious".

I muttered to Rome “As if she fucking made it” rolling my eyes as he smirked when Shiv began to compliment the day and how thoughtful it has been through grated teeth im sure.

"You suck up" he muttered to Shiv making me cough down a laugh

Frank starts to do a speech about Dundee and Quebec but to be honest I wasn't listening to a word he said. It’s Frank , how interesting can it be? I only realised it was a toast when everyone raised there glass to which I followed suit

“I think it's time to play the game." this causes a range of emotions from annoyance, to excitement to confusion (in Gregs case)

We arrive at the helicopters and get in Shiv and Kendall looking over the papers and shaking their heads like what the actual fuck? No.

We arrive at a field with a tent full of well needed drinks. I genuinely don't think I drink as much when it comes to family functions.

I see Shiv and Kendall and Roman chatting by the helicopters right before the game is about to start. I walk up to them slowly

"Hey, what's happening? Are we deciding our stance on this?"

"Ken here is suggesting giving up politics and join a co presidency where I would be working under him"

"Ah yes, lose you upscale politics work for working for our elder brother who owns shit from what I recall"

"Shut the fuck up Lauren. Don't you have to be giving someone a band aid or whatever the fuck you do?"

"Hey don't start that shit with her-" Rome started defending

"Fuck you Kendall. Dads right not to leave company to you. Your nothing but a sad little boy angry he didn't get the toy he wanted." glaring at him before walking as far away as possible from that absolute prick of a brother. Not before hearing

"She's got a point to be fair" from Shiv

At the start of the game Shiv throws the ball for Ken to bat but his phone rings before he can run.

"sorry I gotta take this" turning away from the game and inevitably leaving so that means we were down a player. Then Roman being Roman caught a little kid because that's what Roman does.

"Hey you, kid. I will give you a million dollars if you do home run," writing a check as he's doing so

"Rome don't be a dick" I snarked, feeling bad for the poor child.

"What? It's a little incentive" which I just rolled my eyes at.

When Shiv throws the ball the kid hits it quite well, passes one station, second, third but just before he could hit last base Tom put him out. "Sorry kid, you were so close. so damn close." and ripped up the check he just wrote.

"Prick '' I muttered before walking past him to the kid and his family taking off my necklace in the meantime just as Colin carried over the watch Tom bought him and a couple pieces of paper. NDAs. they probably carry them everywhere.

"I can only apologise for my brother and his behaviour today." I began the apology on my brother's behalf as it seems like I have been doing the majority of my life.

"He shouldn't have disrespected you like that. I am so sorry. Please take these gifts in reparations." I added hearing Colin next to me

"Hi, I'm Colin and I work for the Roy family. The Roy family would rather keep this quiet so if you could sign these" Collin adds, forcing me to look down so this poor family doesn't see the disdain I have for this type of activity. Roys have to keep family close.

I went to Shiv getting into the helicopter with her, Rome, dad and Connor, knowing there will probably be some sort of argument that day.

"Officially the deadline has passed so what's the decision kids." Our dad asks us, looking at Roman. Although I may not like him right now I would trust him to make the right decision for us.

"What's the Frank situation?" Rome asks, I look at Con confused to which he shrugged his shoulders.

"Franks gone. Franks dead. Toms stepping up and Shivs thinking of taking a new role." I'm not going to lie, I was getting more and more shocked as he went on. Roman and Shiv looked at one another asking what they think with their eyes

"Shiv." Rome looks at her,

"Rome" she replies with the same look and attitude in her voice

"Laur"

"I don’t give a fuck what Rome says, isay." I tell dad directly, Connor nodding his head in agreement.

"Our position is that this doesn't quite work for us. At present." Shiv says to our father letting him know the decision we had made was no way in hell. Ever. Just in a more professional term.

"It's not sufficiently attractive as a proposition" Roman added

"Basically we don't want to sign because it doesn't benefit us in any way." I added my piece. Fuck knows if I’m right.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, why would we want to give up power?" Shiv points out before our father starts mumbling things and making no sense while Shiv and Rome still spoke over.

"Dad? Are you ok?"

Causing the bickering to stop and questioning our dad is ok. I yell to the pilot to take us to the nearest fucking hospital just as he collapses in to connors lap

"How does he feel, Con? is he hot?"

"Hes burning up"

"We need to get to a hospital now"

"Why? What is it?" Shiv asks frantically

"I don't fucking know Shiv, I'm a doctor not a fucking magician. Could be a stroke, or haemorrhage. We need to get to a hospital five minutes ago!" As we began to land at the nearest hospital, my hospital I yelled out.

"Logan Roy, 80 year old male, collapsed after a stressful conversation but could possibly have a brain haemorrhage. We need Dr Abrams right now."

"Dr Roy, Dr Roy. Lauren!" someone interrupted as I was shouting out orders. It was the young resident, Lewis. "We've got him" as they rushed my father down the hallway leaving me helpless with my siblings. the place I felt the most useful, I have never felt so useless.

************************************************************

A/N: This is probably tragic writing compared to other brilliant writers who do the Roys justice, especially Shiv, but I just imagine dodgy childhood with her but mature and have a slight sisterhood but obviously is much closer to Roman as twin. Ages are off probs but its a fanfic it doesn't matter.

#stewy hosseini imagines #succession #fanfiction #stewy hosseini x oc #stewy hosseini

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silverslipstream · 2 years ago

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Get to know my OC!

So I've been tagged in by @rickie-the-storyteller (thanks Rickie!) and the idea of writing an interview of my character really stuck with me, so... here goes nothing! I chose to interview Kat (White Sky's main character) roughly at the beginning of the second act of the plot, as it's currently outlined, anyway. The hubbub of Aristarchus City's main Interplanetary Arrival Terminal is a stark reminder of humanity's burgeoning presence in the cosmos. While not the largest city on the Moon, Aristarchus is nevertheless a bustling hub of commerce, trade and diplomacy, its domes contrasting the nearby crater walls in a defiant stand against the desolation of the lunar surface. Our interview subject for today - former propulsion engineer and now interplanetary wanted fugitive Katarina 'Kat' Lloyd - halts under a rotating softscreen, peering anxiously at the busy thoroughfare. Sneaking between an absentminded luggage porter and a preoccupied miner decked head-to-toe in Toyota-branded mining gear, she hurries over to my table: an unassuming booth built into the wall of a drink stand. Her eyes flicker feverishly between me and the recording drone in the centre of the table. -audio transcript starts-

Kat: Are you sure that thing's... safe? ELTO's got eyes everywhere, you know-

Me: Relax. If ELTO knew you were here, they'd have thrown you out of the nearest service airlock, protocol or no protocol. Drink?

I push a disposable mug of coffee in her direction: Kat takes a hesitant sip and makes a face, pushing it back into the centre of the table.

Kat: God, how do you drink that crap? It's lukewarm. Nobody drinks lukewarm coffee.

Me: I'll admit, it takes some getting used to. Speaking of getting used to things, how are you finding your first trip into space?

She laughs hollowly.

Oh yeah, it's absolutely f**king wonderful. I've been floating around in the spacefaring equivalent of a college dorm room for three days, I'm covered in bruises from hitting just about everything in there, half the crew won't talk to me and the other half won't shut up. Plus, there's the whole 'wanted fugitive apparently harbouring corporate secrets' s**t, so yeah. Everything's f**king peachy.

What's been the hardest part of adapting to space travel?

The cosmic rays. I can feel my DNA splintering by the minute.

She grins at me, tutting and rolling her eyes when I don't respond.

Fine, okay. You're not... printing this anywhere, are you?

Is that an actual question?

Right, sorry, okay. The worst part of spaceflight is going to the bathroom. Sounds weird, but... I wasn't expecting taking a crap to be such a f**king ordeal, you know? First I have to wedge my feet into these footholds before sitting down, so I don't, uh, 'float off' mid-s**t. Then the toilet has this weird inflating cushion thing that suctions itself around... well, y'know, so nothing gets out and the smell doesn't kill the crew. It's constantly sucking, too. Worst feeling ever. I swear, I won't eat a bite on the return journey. The shower's even worse, if you can call it that. You have to squeeze these gel packs of water and soap onto yourself and rub your body down super carefully, using rinseless shampoo to clean your hair. Stupid lemon-scented crap. It just clumps the ends of your hair together. I swear, I'm gonna find the best hairdresser in this s**thole dome and get it all lopped off.

How's the food?

I mean, it's not terrible. Not healthy by any stretch, but I'll live. The water's awful though.

How come?

Well, you probably wouldn't know, Mr-I-Live-On-The-Moon, but unlike your happy little domes where most of your water is sourced from crater meltwater and Earth imports, our ship's water is a closed system. Every piss, every rinse of dishwater, every excess drop scrubbed off of skin ends up recycled in the life-support system. The others ignore it, of course. They've been in space much longer than I have. But every water-based drink has this slight tang to it, and every time I swallow, I can't stop thinking about how much of what I'm drinking is someone else's sweat and pee...

For the record, I live on Earth - Luna's just a side gig. Tell me about home - where were you before all this?

Ooh, sure you won't charge me? F**k journalism, pal, you should go into counselling. How benevolent of you to unravel my deepest emotional scars at the source-

Just answer the question, please...

Oh, who's a touchy little shrink today, hmmm? Okay. Well, for your information, I lived in employee accommodations at Langersprung Developments' Munich science park. I could've gone to Vienna or Berlin, but Vienna's a little intense for my liking and I didn't fancy glowing in the dark after a couple months in Berlin, so Munich it was.

And how'd you get here?

I took the space canoe. Next question.

...what was your dream job?

You know, what an interesting question. I could've sworn I really liked doing something - was it propulsion systems design? No, perish the thought. How silly of me. It's not as if I was minding my f**king business, enjoying the culmination of my life's work, when a bunch of ELTO agents blow the door off my dorm room and almost melt my campus to the ground. That would be preposterous, don't you agree?

Right, sorry.

It's okay. Well, it's not, but I have to let it out somehow, right?

Do you have any hobbies?

Well, aside from the aforementioned corporate espionage, sneaking aboard lunar debris haulers and murdering annoying cloak-and-dagger affronts to the name of journalism, I do dabble in a bit of Scrabble.

Seriously?

Yes, seriously. Keeps the brain occupied, and the limitations of only having seven letters forces me to think with limited resources. Only problem is, I can't play with many people - Yuri gets way too intense, Harry spends his time writing out more swear words than I thought existed and Kaz protests against Scrabble on principle. Some s**t about 'artificially limiting creative expression.' Other than that, I keep up my previous work, designing interplanetary propulsion systems. God forbid becoming a wanted criminal keep me from my work, right?

What do you do to relax? Other than play Scrabble, I mean.

As you can imagine, fleeing the combined law-enforcement systems of an entire species isn't the most chill of circumstances... but yeah, okay, I do find some time to relax. Most of the time I listen to music: Leroy Guilloux, Marbzy, V5, Schiaparelli Dust, that kind of stuff. Harry spends a lot of time blasting out TwenCen music from the 'Eighties' that he can't help but sing up and down the ship in terrible, impromptu karaoke sessions. Sora sent me a few of her old tracks, and they're much more my speed. Kraftwerk, Boards of Canada, Aphex Twin - don't s'pose you've heard of 'em?

Not really. My grandad was apparently a fan of Aphex Twin; I found a few albums in a box of his stuff. Actual optical discs, too. No idea how he played them.

Yeah, well, a lot of our crew are obsessed with old s**t like that. They had two 'movie nights' on the way over here. The first was some Huang Min Lee techno-thriller from a few years back: Yuri and Jack loved it. I was barely keeping my eyes open. The other one was this old TwenCen film that Harry wouldn't stop raving about. Judging by the groans from the rest of the crew, they must've seen it a few times. I thought it was quite good for an old film. Can you believe people back then had whole cars that they could just... drive around, wherever they wanted? And what would be the point of keeping a bunch of kids in school on Saturday? They didn't even do schoolwork. I liked the blond kid, though - Brian. Reminded me of myself at school age.

Hmm, okay. What're your plans for the future?

She laughs.

You mean, after ELTO let me out of jail or my brain finishes a century's sentence in some orbital processor farm?

You know what I mean.

Pfft, yeah, sure. Well, I'd like to think I could head back to Earth and continue working, y'know. Obviously not for Langersprung, but maybe for another Eurocorp? I've always liked Scandinavia... if not, maybe I'll look further afield. Australia are doing pretty well with their helix-fusion reactor complexes. If I can avoid the war fallout from the Indo-Pacific, I suppose I wouldn't mind heading down there. Though, knowing my luck, the PECFOR would probably draft Australia in, and I'd end up having to design fusion thermobarics to level a Malaysian city or something. No thank you - spacecraft only.

For someone who's spent a lifetime designing spacecraft engines, you sure seem to hate spaceflight. Are you sure you wouldn't want to, y'know, stay in space?

Well, a plumber might enjoy directing piping drones, but it doesn't mean he wants to live in a s**t-smeared sewer, does it? No f**king thank you! Spaceflight is miserable, uncomfortable and full of annoying s**theads who can't play Scrabble properly. I wouldn't mind going on an interstellar voyage, though. Being cryo-frozen and having a four-year wait time for conversations sounds right up my alley.

What about your family life? Friends? What do you miss about Earth?

Kat gives the recording drone another suspicious side-eye.

Wait, does this thing have visual or holo-recording on, or is it audio only?

Audio only, I'm afraid. My line of work requires a hefty degree of anonymity.

Okay then. For the benefit of you prospective future listeners, I am now raising my... oh dear, what's this? It appears to be my middle finger, good heavens. Now I'm raising it at Mr. Shrinky McAnonymous here.

Miss Lloyd-

Now I'm wiggling it.

...terminating interview with subject Katarina Lloyd at 09:18 CST, June 2nd, 2094.

Look at it wigg- -audio transcript ends-

Hope you've enjoyed this little peek into Kat's life and the world of White Sky! I'll tag @sam-glade, @sergeantnarwhalwrites, @kaatiba, @winterandwords and @flock-from-the-void, as well as any open tag to any writeblr who fancies a go!

#writeblr #writing prompt #character interview #original character #science fiction #worldbuilding #get to know my oc #oc posting #writeblr community #silverslipstream #wip: white sky

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siderods · 2 years ago

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OC Post 3 - Case #13

This universe is a comedy/ horror/ mystery with some episodic monsters and some overarching plotlines, with mysteries and secrets galore. It operates on the same concrete rules as real life does, the engines having minimal control of themselves and relying on humans. Additionally, these 3 (?) are the only living engines in this universe.

Detective Nathan Phillips - A quiet and observant sort, Nathan is a detective brought in to investigate the talking locomotives before realizing the true puzzle that awaits him in the backwater Maine town..

Blair - An 0-4-0 porter tank, Blair is the oldest of the three engines. She acts as a big sister figure, bossy at times but with good intentions and good humor.

Skye - A 2-truck shay, Skye is the most closed-off to the detective at first. He's a pessimist, and tries to be edgy and cool but usually fails. However, under all the bluster is a middle child who's genuinely discontent with constant goods trains and having to move over for others. He wants to march to the beat of his own drum but doesn't know how to express it.

Ray- Full name Raymond, Ray is an SR&RL Prairie. He's the biggest, strongest, and fastest of the three, and knows it. Despite his boastful streak, Ray is quite naive. He takes the role of main passenger engine, and is the poster boy and golden child of the railway, much to the dismay of a certain shay.

??? - The driving force behind each and every monster & mystery in the series. Supernatural in nature, as almost all good mysteries are.

#ttte oc #ttte #busted's oc posts

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jumobear · 4 years ago

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cant you feel what I'm feeling?

#oc: ray jay #furry #fursona #raccoon furry #furry art #porter robinson #nurture #nurture album #oI-<

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prowlsart · 7 years ago

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a family can be three synth dads--1 gen 3 and 2 gen 2.5s, a former raider now bodyguard, and a best friend who is an impulse liar

#fallout 4 #fo4 #porter gage #nick valentine #deacon #synths #gen 2 synth #gen 3 synth #oc: ray treasach #oc: pr0-w1 #pls reblog this came out rlly good

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protosymphonette · 2 months ago

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weapon ideas for ray. originally i gave her a plasma pistol but those kind of are bad and i didn't want her to suck too hard combat wise+arcade has a plasma weapon and i didn't want to step on his toes too much

i wanted her ranged weapon to be something the securitrons utilize since i think she would be largely strip-based so i went with an smg (12.7mm so it's on-par with other companion weapons damage-wise) a laser weapon would probably fit more considering it's a securitron weapon+"raygun" name pun. but laser pistols are also kind of bad and i wanted her to have a "smaller" weapon so no laser rifle

i had a tough time choosing what i'd want her melee weapon to be considering i didn't think any nv weapons fit her vibe- but then i remembered fo3's chinese officer sword & the saying "the pen is mightier than the sword" and everything sort of fell into place (i know the companion weapons in fnv don't have unique names shhh)

#fnv #fallout new vegas #fallout #fnv oc #oc: ray porter #um. kind of long. sorry guys got a little carried away #symphonart

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saltycharacters · 1 year ago

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OC Fact of the day: Ray Porter finished crocheting their first plush with a box of cereal in front of them, leading them to naming the plush Crunchy O' Meal. They carry it around in their work bag for comfort and still crochet during their spare time.

#Crunchy was made when they were in middle school #ofotd #Hatch

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allpromarlo · 3 years ago

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my god the spurs are SO sexy for that

#godspeed youngins #you absolutely love to see it #also...let's talk about how a certain point guard shot 25% from the field and barely 29% from three #days after going 4/21 and 3/14 against the suns?#ray allen would never have terrible shooting nights like these #nba #san antonio spurs #golden state warriors #unhinged oc post of the morning #i can't help but imagine my ocs in real life games like i saw the box score this morning and i was like 'damn hyunjae COOKED stephs ass'#and then immediately make up the statline. 31/7/10 on 59% fg and 74% from three #+ a mean crossover on otto porter #i don't know why otto porter but he's just gotta take this one now #sorry bud #oc: hyunjae park

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fizzyxcustard · 3 years ago

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Lathalea and Fizzyxcustard's Armitage Summer Splash - Masterlist

Day 1 - "Did we make a mistake?" / Enemies to Lovers trope - (Lucas North x Fem!Reader)

Day 2 - "I never thought it'd be like this." / Only one bed trope - (Modern!John Thornton)

Day 3 - "I did it for you...for us." / Unrequited love trope (Francis Dolarhyde x Fem!Reader)

Day 4 - "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." / Betrayal trope (Lucas North x OC [Amy Holland from Covert Eyes] )

Day 5 - "I can't believe you did that." / Drunken admission of feelings trope. (John Porter x Fem!Reader)

Day 6 - "You've got to get over this." / Friends with benefits trope. (Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader) COLLAGE.

Day 7 - "I've never loved you." / Soulmates trope. (Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader)

Day 8 - "Show me your face." / A secret is told trope. (Adam Price x Fem!Reader)

Day 9 - "You need to get over this." / Coffee shop trope. (Ray Levine x Fem!Reader) COLLAGE.

Day 10 - "You always promised you'd never hurt me." / Kidnapped trope. (Lucas North x OC)

Day 11 - "I could stay like this forever." (Scott White x Fem!Reader)

Day 12 - "How dare you." / Oblivious of feelings trope. (Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader)

Day 13 - "It was the best day of my life." / Comfort trope. (Guy of Gisborne and slight Fem!Reader)

Day 14 - "I wish I could go back." / Lies trope. (Lucas North x OC)

Day 15 - "How could you possibly think that?" / Arranged marriage trope. (Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader)

Day 16 - Love triangle trope. (Ray Levine x Fem!Reader/Ray Levine x Cassie)

Day 17 - "I need space away from you." / Illness trope. (Modern John Thornton x Fem!Reader)

Day 18 - Angel/demon trope (Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader)

Day 19 - "I can't do this." / Matching tattoos tope. (Lucas North x OC)

Day 20 - "I feel like everyone has abandoned me." / Werewolf trope (Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader)

Day 21 - "It really suits you." / Body swap trope. (All Richard fandoms)

Day 22 - "We have all the time in the world." / Break up trope. (John Porter x Fem!Reader)

Day 23 - "Do you regret being with me?" / Time travel trope. (John Thornton x Fem!Reader) COLLAGE

Day 24 - "I need to see you." / Accident trope. (Ray Levine x Reader)

Day 25 - "I'm sorry." / Birthday trope. (Lucas North x OC)

Day 26 - "I miss you." / Proposal trope. (John Porter x Fem!Reader)

Day 27 - "Do not lie to me." / Anniversary trope. (Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader)

Day 28 - "Lets skip to the good part." / Dream trope. (Lucas North x OC)

Day 29 - "I never thought we'd ever find a way to each other." / Holiday or vacation trope. (Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader in modern times)

Day 30 - "It meant nothing to me." / Pirates trope. (John Thornton x Fem!Reader)

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middleearthpixie · 3 years ago

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Damaged Goods ~ Chapter Sixteen

Author's Note: Just a reminder that this story takes place following the events of the miniseries Stay Close and will contain spoilers.

Title: Damaged Goods

Fandom: Stay Close

Pairings: Ray Levine x OC female Theodora (Theo) Bailey

Summary: Following the events of Stay Close, Ray Levine has come to the US to begin a new life and is staying with Theo Bailey, the friend of a friend, who is quickly becoming his best friend and Ray is starting to wonder if there isn’t something more there between them.

Like Ray, Theo has her own demons and although she wonders the same thing about Ray, fear of repeating past mistakes keep her from moving forward. Or do they? Somehow, these two damaged people will come together and discover that maybe—just maybe—second chances are worth the risk.

Ray and Theo make up… (I couldn't torture @legolasbadass and @i-did-not-mean-to for too long! 😉)

Warnings: Oral sex (f receiving)

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,186

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being @shalinizhara @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here and AO3!

Theo stared at her apartment door. Ray moved around on the other side, the floorboards creaked with each step he took and from the sounds of it, he paced. She sighed softly reaching up to rub her forehead. They’d been having the perfect day and then she had to go and ruin it. God, she was such an asshole sometimes.

She dug into her back pocket to pull out her phone and toggled to her Contacts. She pulled up Matt’s number and hit send, then waited for him to pick up.

It went right to voicemail.

“Matt, it’s me. Look, I changed my mind about wanting that information on Meg Shaw, so just forget I ever said anything about it, okay? Thanks for being willing to do it, though. I owe you one.”

She clicked off and grasped the door handle to shove open the door.

Ray was in the kitchen, a bottle of Sam Smith chocolate porter in one hand, and when he looked up, she’d swear she felt those blue eyes actually touch her.

“You’re right,” she said without preamble, setting her phone on the counter, “I was acting like a stupid teenager possessive over her boyfriend and freaking out over his last girlfriend, and you have every right to be pissed. And I’m sorry. And I know I shouldn’t obsess over her, but it’s there and I can’t make it stop and I wish I could because it drives me fucking crazy. But, then, I look at you and I see her name. I see her holding the keys to you—to your heart, to your soul, to your love, to whatever it is you’d given her the keys to and—I—I don’t know, but I see her as competition and I know that’s really fucking childish, but I can’t help it. She is always here, Ray. Always. She’s here now. She’s here when we make love. She’s here when we are just sitting around eating Indian food in our underwear, or we’re on the beach, freezing our assess off while you take pictures. And she wants to see you again and I’m fucking terrified that you’ll realize you’ve made a terrible mistake here, with me…”

To her horror, hot tears stung her eyes. Oh, sure it wasn’t enough that she acted like a jealous thirteen year old baby. Now she was going to cry on top of it? Wonderful. A jealous, crybaby with the emotions of a thirteen year old— what every grown man wanted in his life.

“Theo,” he set the bottle down and came around to stand before her, “stop and breathe before you pass out.”

She pressed her lips together, her heart hammering her ribs with enough force, she thought one might actually crack. He caught her face in his hands and tilted it to meet his gaze, sweeping his thumbs along her cheeks. “When you and I are together, it’s just you and me, Theo. I’m with you and only you. She’s not here. I promise you, she’s not.”

As he spoke, he leaned in and punctuated his words with light, almost teasing kisses. But those teasing kisses grew deeper and far more serious and she gasped when he crouched slightly and caught her around the waist with one arm and behind the knees with the other and whisked her off her feet.

“Don’t drop me,” she whispered as he carried her down the narrow hallway and booted open the door to his room.

“Don’t worry,” came his whisper back, “I’ve got you.”

He bent over his bed to gently set her in it, and came down upon her, his mouth finding hers, his lips, his tongue hot and teasing as they caressed hers. He shifted to one side to slip his free hand beneath her sweater, to glide up over her ribs, to her breast and he reignited the fire he’d started earlier in her core as he caught her nipple between thumb and forefinger to roll gently.

Her back arched of it own, the sensations rippling through her, urging her to offer herself to him. He could do anything he wanted to her, as long as he kept kissing her the way he did and touching her the way he did.

Her skin tingled with each caress, as he let go of her breast to let his fingers just graze along her, moving along the dip of her waist, the rise of her hip, the curve of her thigh. He moved slowly, pulling away clothing as it got in his way; whisked her sweater over her head, tugged her bra from her body, skimmed her jeans along her legs. He left her thong where it was, though, and as he slid a hand between her legs, she knew why. Lace teased her sensually, rough and soft against her sensitive skin at the same time. He loomed over her, still fully dressed, eyes blazing cobalt with desire, as he just watched his effect on her.

And what an effect it was! She tingled from head to toe, her nipples were hard beads begging for his attention, her thong was soaked with her slick arousal, the sweet scent of her desire lingered in the air every time she rolled her hips to meet the fiery pleasure his teasing gave. She was so close to the edge, just from the way he used her own lingerie to bring her to life. Knots tightened in her core, she grew wetter with each brush of lace against her clit, against her flesh, and when he moved it aside to slide his finger through that slick, she moaned softly and rocked to meet his touch. She wanted him as she’d never wanted another man, her body burned for his to fill it, for the hard thickness of his cock to stretch her and tease her and fuck her into mindless ecstasy that would have her coming hard and clinging to him, calling his name as she dug her fingernails into his shoulders, or his back, or whatever part of him she could reach. She wanted to give herself to him completely and make him forget any other women had ever come before her.

He pressed a kiss into her belly, just below her navel and she couldn’t hold back her moan, quivering beneath his lips, beneath the soft sweep of his breath again her oh-so-sensitive skin. His fingers slipped through her arousal, slowly moving from her clit to her opening and back. Each pass came a little harder, each swirl went just that much deeper. And when he slid his finger insider her, her hips bolted up from the bed, her walls squeezing about him, desperate for the delicious rush of release.

“Ray…” Her voice was a low, husky moan that would have embarrassed her under any other circumstances. She couldn’t keep the longing from it, couldn’t hold back her desperation for him to make her come undone.

“Shhh, baby,” came his equally husky whisper, “you’ll get what you want. When I decide you should.”

“Ray… please…”

His hand went still. “Trust me.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, breathless with need as she nodded and he stroked her again. He was slow and thorough, caressing every inch of her he could reach. His finger slid back inside her, crooked to the front and swept over something that sent fire streaking through her. She cried out again, rocking to meet each thrust, fighting to keep her eyes open because Ray’s reaction was almost as erotic as her own. A seductive smile played at his lips, his tongue swept over his bottom lip as if he could actually taste her arousal, her essence, without putting his mouth on her.

But then he bent over.

“Ray!” Her hips shot up as he pressed the lace of her thong hard against her clit with his tongue and stroked. He nudged it aside, let the tip of his tongue slip through her, swirled about her clit, down to her opening, where he gave a teasing thrust inside. He shifted, tugged down her thong, pushed her thighs apart, and bent to feast upon her as if she was the rarest of delicacies.

Gone were the teasing licks and swirls. Now, he meant business, sucking at her clit as he pulsed a finger inside her. She trembled as the flames licked along her skin, as the knots twisted inside her, as her orgasm built with the speed and power of a tidal wave racing toward a coastline. She reached for him with one hand, thrust her fingers in his hair. Twisted. Held on. Held him where she wanted him and he remained there. And all the while her other hand clutched at the pillow, at the comforter, at the headboard—desperate for anything she could grab hold of to keep from being washed away by the unimaginable pleasure he sent roaring through her.

“Oh… Ray… please…” Her moan was airy and breathless, her hips rocking toward him. The knots were coming undone and she welcomed each delectable spasm as it tore through her. White lights danced before her eyes. Everything inside her rolled over. Clenched. Quivered.

Exploded.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. The white-hot ecstasy that tore through her set her blood on fire, threatened to swallow her whole, left her craving him, aching for him. The wave crashed over her, left her powerless to do anything but surrender.

“Ray!” His name echoed around them as she hit that peak, as her body shuddered and shook from the force of the most delicious orgasm she’d ever had. He didn’t let up as she came, but licked and sucked and teased and savored every last bit of it even as she writhed beneath him, as she tugged hard on his hair, and only when she went limp beneath him, fighting to breathe, did he pull back. She trembled against him as he swept a light kiss along her inner thigh, into the crease of her hip and thigh, up over her belly. Her head spun, her heart slammed into her ribs hard enough to make spots dance before her eyes. Her entire body felt as if it had puddled into the most delicious pile of mush possible. She didn’t care if she ever moved again.

He came up over her and when his mouth slashed over hers, she shivered again. This time, his kiss was gentle and when he pulled back, she smiled up at him, fighting to keep her heavy-lidded eyes opened. “Oh, my…”

He smiled. “I told you I’d take care of you.”

“Ray… you can do that to me any—any time you wa—want…”

His laugh came warm against her lips. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured. Then he drew back further, shifted to lay beside her, and gathered her in his arms. She snuggled against him, mindful of the fact that she was completely naked, while he was completely dressed.

As she let her head come to rest against his chest, his arm tightened about her shoulders and with her ear pressed to him, the soft thump-thump of his heartbeat lulled her into a state of drowsiness.

“I love you,” he whispered into the growing darkness, pressing a kiss into the top of her head.

“I love you.”

His phone rang and he reached into his back pocket to tug it free and tossed it over her, onto the desk alongside his bed. She untucked his shirt from the waist of his jeans and slid her hand beneath it, whispering, “If you want to answer that, I don’t mind.”

“There’s no one else I want to talk to right now.” He untangled from her, sat up, and whisked his tee shirt over his head, then came back down against her. She snuggled back against him, breathing in the wonderful scent of that was Ray: sandalwood, a hint of cedar, a hint of musk, and ocean air. His skin was warm against hers—warm and smooth and she could very happily stay right where she was, right where they were, until time itself came to an end.

His fingers trailed along her upper arm, along her hair. They smoothed over it, slid through it and when his phone rang again, he muttered, “Fuck whoever that is.”

Then it rang a third time and she looked up at him. “Someone really wants to talk to you. Maybe you should answer it.”

He sighed softly and with his free hand, reached to pick up the phone. Then, he hit accept and said, “Hey, Drew. Yeah, make it quick. Now is not a good time for me.”

She peered up at him, watched as his expression when from sleepy and content to wide- awake. “Really? Uh, okay. Yeah, I’ll tell her. She’s right here.” He let out a husky laugh that sent a flutter through her. “I’ll do that. Thanks again.”

He clicked off and tossed the phone back onto the desk. She snuggled closer and murmured, “What did Drew want?”

“I asked him to run a plate for me. I’ve seen the same blue Honda on my ass over the last two days and I got a picture of his license plate today. He’s your Mr. Heart Attack.”

Her drowsiness seeped away and she sat up. “Kevin McClintock?”

He nodded. “The very same. I’m surprised you haven’t seen him around. Blue Honda. Drives like an asshole.”

“Wait… A blue Accord?”

“Yeah. You’ve seen it?”

She nodded. “He almost hit one of the kids across the street earlier. He’s been following you? Do you think he’s the one who snuck up on you last night?”

“Honestly?” Ray shook his head. “I haven’t the foggiest. Maybe. I’m going to go talk to him and find out.”

“Oh, I wish you wouldn’t. At least, not today.”

He let out a soft laugh and came up to cover her once more. “I’m not going anywhere now,” he said softly, his lips just brushing hers. “I’m supposed to be resting, remember? And I think you’re suppose to be taking care of me, aren’t you?”

“Oh, is that what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“Absolutely. I could have had a fractured skull, you know.”

“Ray.”

“What?”

“You have a head like a rock. Isn’t that what you told me?”

“I’m a photographer. We’re sensitive.”

“You are a photojournalist who’s been into war zones and once cut up a dead guy. You are not sensitive.”

“Ouch. That hurt.” He came up to cover her from the waist up, his eyes almost sparkling as he added, “Drew also said I should probably stay in bed for the rest of the day. Preferably naked. With you.”

“He said that, did he?”

“Well, not in so many words, but I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant by get some rest.”

“You aren’t going to be happy until your head actually explodes, are you?”

He grinned and bent to kiss her, and that was the end of the debate for now.

****

By the next morning, Ray’s headache was completely gone and he felt like himself again. He smiled as Theo snuggled closer to him, the warmth from her body sank into his, and the last thing he wanted to do was get up out of bed. She felt so perfect, curved against him the way she did, her long hair spilling across his chest, her arm draped over his hips, her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder and chest.

He lay there, with her in his arms, just staring up at the plain white ceiling, perfectly content to do no more than that. The sun broke through the clouds, and it seemed the wind finally died down, and although a draft did leak about the window, he didn't care. It was warm and cozy beneath the covers.

She stirred, lifting her head to stare toward the clock. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven thirty,” he said, smoothing her wildly tangled hair away from her face. It was thick and wavy and soft, with hints of vanilla and lavender clinging to it, and as he tucked a loose lock behind her ear, her eyes closed briefly. “Do you have any clients today?”

She nodded. “Tony texted me about a new client coming in for nine and McClintock is supposed to be in at ten-thirty. I wonder if he’ll show up.

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“We’ll see, I guess.”

She sat up and stretched and he bit back a groan at the sight of the muscles bunching beneath her smooth skin as she lifted her arms, then arched her back. Damn, Fester was right. Theo was a goddess. And the urge to drag her atop him surged through him.

But he had to get moving, had to go in and talk to Drew. He wanted to know who’d hired McClintock and then he wanted to go have a friendly little chat with Scott Ryland.

Theo peered at him over her shoulder. “What about you?”

“Oh, baby, you keep looking at me like that and I’m not letting you out of this bed until Monday at the earliest.”

She gave him a look he was coming to know well. The one that suggested she was two seconds away from dick punching him. “Ray.”

“What? You’re hot and I’m lucky.”

“Ray.”

“What?”

“You’re nuts, is what you are.” She smiled then, and twisted to lean into him and as her lips found his, he curved a hand against her face. He couldn’t help himself. If he was near her, he had to touch her. It was as simple as that.

He pulled back slowly, not really wanting to break the kiss, but he was supposed to meet Drew at nine and he had to shower and probably chip his way into his car. “Tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers, “I’m taking you out. Pick a place.”

“What kind of place?”

“I don’t care. Restaurant. Bar. Movie. Arcade. Bingo. Pick someplace.”

She chuckled. “Bingo?”

“Okay, maybe not that, but any other place is fine.” He brushed her lips once more and then forced himself to pull away and rise. “I’ve got to meet Drew, so I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Wait…” She slid to the edge of the bed and he bit back a groan as she got to her feet. She wore only her thong and that faded black camisole and without trying, she had his cock at attention. “Want some company?”

He grinned. “Do I look stupid?”

“Not one bit.”

She scooted by him, saying, “Last one in doesn’t get to stand under the spray.”

He didn't move, but watched her dart about the doorway and down the short distance to the bathroom. Not only did he not mind the view, but he knew that if he really wanted to, he could just pick her up and move her out of his way. There were many advantages to being his size and that was definitely one of them.

#richard armitage #stay close #stay close fanfic #fanfic #ray levine #ray levine x oc #romance #friends to lovers #damaged people #healing #love story #some smut

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rosyfingereddawnn · 4 years ago

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only the black rose (chapter 9)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: tears, angst, angst, fluff, and. oh. angst

words: 6.2k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: second-last chapter. here we go. this one is a long one, please bear with me. it’s all very important to the plot. no beta as always, and i hope you enjoy <3 feedback is so very welcome!

masterlist

playlist

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Rays of celestial sunlight stream into the room, a harsh glow against Layla’s eyelids, as fluttering eyelashes uncover cloudy brown pools. Layla lets out a quiet yawn, and, as if on cue, an arm folds itself around her stomach, pulling her into a body of warmth. She turns her head to the side, and is met by Jimmy’s angelic face. His black hair falls across the soft pillow like silk. Sleep hazing his eyes, he blinks, adjusting to the bright light.

“Now this is a view I’ll never get tired of…” Layla whispers, pressing her lips to his, a hand carding through his curls.

“Good morning to you too, petal.”

Layla hums in contentment, shuffling ever-closer to the man. His arms automatically tighten around her, as he presses his lips to her hair. Sleep-warmed and sated, they linger in each other’s warmth for what feels like hours. Tapping out a staccato rhythm on her side, Jimmy succeeds in getting Layla’s attention.

“Hm?”

“Layla, we need to get up.”

This is met with a soft whine, courtesy of the woman in his arms, and his chuckle sounds like music as it tumbles out past his lips. Jimmy shakes her shoulder, encouraging her to get up, only to succeed in doing the opposite. Layla coils herself tighter around the guitarist, tangling their legs together. She noses at his neck, pressing a featherlight kiss to the skin there, making Jimmy shiver in pleasure.

“Layla, come on, we’ve got things to do today. I have an interview in 30 minutes, and I don’t think Cameron Crowe would appreciate it if I was wrapped around an… admittedly gorgeous girl, while he conducted it.”

“Why can’t we just stay here? Give him a show…”

“Petal…”

“Can’t help wanting you all to myself,” Layla mumbles with a sigh, shuffling out of his arms. Jimmy stands up, goosebumps rising on his arms as he shivers from the cold of the room. Layla watches him as he shuffles around the room, getting dressed for the day. If she stares longer at his bum than usual, who’s to say? “Wish we could stay here all day.”

“Believe me, petal, so do I.” Jimmy replies, grabbing a blanket from the armoire standing against the wall.

Gathering the comforter around her shoulders, Layla follows the man out into the living room of their suite, finding him sitting on the luxurious upholstered sofa. Despite the blanket pulled across him, he was shivering. Smiling down at him, still groggy from sleep, Layla swipes the blanket off of him, ignoring the protests leaving the guitarist’s mouth. Replacing the blanket with the comforter that hung around her shoulders, she leans down to press her lips to his cheek.

Rushing back to the bedroom to escape the cold that settled in her bones, Layla reaches into the depths of her suitcase, and pulls out a familiar cardigan. Tan in colour, the arms were decorated with swirls of brown and black. She pulls it across her shoulders, pressing her nose to the wool. After all that time in her suitcase, it still held the faint scent of the previous owner: heady tobacco and sharp pine mingle with hints of citrus. It smelled like Jimmy. Resting against the headboard, she smiles at the lingering warmth of the comfortable bed.

She could get used to this.

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Killing time before they leave for the show that night, Layla further explores the grandiose hotel room they were holed up in for the day. The rich spruce wood dresser against the wall accented the soft beige of the curtains, as the pristine white of the bedspread gave it a royal flair. The sitting area near the windows, which held a lovely view of downtown New York, was decorated with a mahogany-legged desk, its marbled tabletop shining in the morning light. Around it sat comfortable arm chairs with ornate golden accents. Paintings adorned the walls, and it was clear how expensive they must have been. The most curious thing, however, was the radio that sat in the corner of the room, resting on the bedside table.

Shaped like a cathedral, its shiny wooden surface beckoned her closer. It looked to be from around the 1930’s, though the woman was certainly no expert. Layla reaches out a hand, spinning one of the dials experimentally, and with a crackle, the old radio comes to life. The smooth voice of Édith Piaf floats through the room, static accompanying her in a lovely duet. Soon enough, the voice crooning out of the aged radio is interrupted by a cough, and Layla turns to see Jimmy looking back at her.

“Hey, Jim.” Layla turns a knob on the machine, and the song fades into the background, a faint whisper.

“What are you up to, petal?” Jimmy steps closer, a hand coming to rest on the woman’s hip as she turns to face him. He presses his lips to her cheek, and pulls away with a warm smile.

“I was just seeing if this radio worked. Looks pretty old.”

“I wonder if they have any stations that play Led Zeppelin.”

“Of course you do,” Layla says with a giggle, extricating herself from his arms to turn back to the radio. If she was facing the guitarist, she would have the way he was biting his perfect lips, hand raised to thumb at his nose. She would have seen the determined set of his shoulders, and the furrowing of his brow. “Let’s see what else this thing can do.”

“Layla… Can we talk?”

Layla jerks lightly, heartbeat pounding like a bass drum at the guitarist’s words. She turns to look at him, the hand that was fiddling with the dials of the old radio falling away.

“Is-Is there something wrong?”

“You’re not going to like this, but…”

Noticing the man’s fidgeting, she slips into his space, taking his restless hand in hers. Looking up at him, eyes filled with hesitance, she gives his hand a squeeze, encouraging him to continue.

“I talked to Peter and the boys. We’re gonna play ‘Dazed and Confused’ tonight. I know you think it’s too early, but—”

“Jimmy, I just think,” A sigh bubbles out past Layla’s lips as she drops his hand. Looking down at the tan rug under their feet, she shakes her head, reflecting on her next words. “I just think that it’d be best if you didn’t rush it like this.”

“I’m telling you, I’m ready to play it.”

“Just… Maybe just rest the finger for a little while longer.”

Jimmy scoffs at this, incredulity in his gaze as he searches Layla’s face. Apparently not finding what he was looking for, he throws his arms out beside him, lips tilted downwards in irritation.

“Why shouldn’t we play it? By all means, explain it to me.”

“Jimmy, I-I just don’t know if—”

“You think I can’t do it, don’t you? You think I’m useless, or something.”

Layla holds his hard stare, not looking away as she steps closer to him. She reaches a hand out to grasp at his shoulder, and he shakes her off.

“Jimmy, what’s gotten into you? Of course I think you can do it. I just think it might be too early.” Jimmy turns away at this, not looking at Layla anymore. His laugh is acidic, sharp as it cuts through the silence of the room. It feels like a knife to Layla’s heart, and she can feel her heartbeat rising, anger clouding her thoughts.

“Look, I don’t know who pissed in your cornflakes this morning, but I just don’t want you to be in any more pain. I care about you, you know that.”

Jimmy huffs out another caustic laugh, walking to the bed to sit down, arms crossed against his chest. It feels like a barrier to Layla, and she’s out of the loop as to why this is happening. The distance between them, both physically and mentally, is taking its toll on her.

“Why do you even care, Layla?”

The woman jolts at the question, jaw left hanging open. Layla can almost feel the fury coursing through her veins, and she stomps towards him. Layla’s eyes glare red as they lock onto his, which are sharp, unforgiving.

“Why-Why do I care? Jimmy, you’ve got no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

“Please, enlighten me, petal. Tell me why you care in the slightest.” The nickname rolls off his tongue dripping with contempt. Gone is the usual softness of his voice, as blunt mockery replaces it.

“Fine! You really want to know?”

“Believe me, I’d like absolutely nothing more.”

“It’s because I love you, you ass! God knows why,” Layla rants, voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. Pacing a hole into the carpet, she continues her tirade. “You’re stubborn as hell, with a solid helping of self-destructive tendencies.”

“Layla, I—” Jimmy tries, eyes softer now, voice almost a whisper. He reaches out a hand, beckoning her closer, but she is not so easily persuaded.

“No! You don’t get to do that! God, Jimmy, I love you, and I care about you for some reason. Get that through your thick fucking head.”

Turning on her heel, she walks to the door, her hand clenching tightly around the doorknob. Layla wrenches the door open, spinning around to face Jimmy once more. His eyes are unguarded, vulnerable as they find hers, and he’s hunched in on himself. Everything in her is screaming to go wrap him up in her arms; to comfort him, but she doesn’t listen.

“I hope you’re happy.” Layla’s voice is hoarse as she delivers the last blow. As she slips out the door, the slam that follows reverberates through the silent room.

Jimmy is left there, sitting on the bed, teeth tearing dry, cracked skin from his lips. Distantly, he can hear Joni Mitchell’s voice fluttering from the radio.

“... You're in my blood like holy wine, you taste so bitter and so sweet. Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling, and I would still be on my feet.”

His quiet sobs mingle with the high timbre of her voice, and he is truly alone. This time, he knows it’s his fault.

----------

Footsteps echo off the hardwood floors as Layla rushes down the hallway, aiming to put as much distance as possible between her and Jimmy. Tears that won’t fall cloud her vision, and she almost walks into Bonzo, who had turned the corner, in her haste to get away. The drummer, taking one look at the woman’s carefully crafted mask of nonchalance, grasps her arm as she attempts to pass him.

“Everything okay, birdie?”

“Fine.” Layla mutters, voice cracking as she looks anywhere but at the drummer. Chancing a look at him, she sees a hint of worry in the set of his mouth. Layla tries to pull away, but Bonzo’s hold on her doesn't fade in the slightest.

“Look, you’re obviously not fine. Just tell me what’s going on, Layla.”

“Nothing is going on! I just—” This is cut off by a hitch of breath from the woman, as a lone tear cascades down her cheek like a babbling creek. Ducking her head, Layla tries to pull away again, but Bonzo holds fast. Raising a finger to wipe under her eye, Layla chances a look at the drummer.

“Wait, are you… Oh God, y-you’re crying…”

“I’m really not in the mood for—”

“Okay, okay, just… just follow me,” Bonzo starts, pulling her to his room across the hall. Layla’s tears fall steadily down her cheeks, as she follows him, hiding her face in her hair. She must’ve picked that up from Jimmy, she thinks. Taking a seat on the bed, hands clenched tightly around the plush blankets, Layla meets Bonzo’s eyes, shocked at the sympathy painted in the shades of brown and gold. “Now, what’s going on, Layla?”

“I told you before—”

“That’s not gonna work on me, birdie. Now tell me.”

Wringing her hands together, she nods, lips bitten red. Layla wipes the tears that refuse to stop falling, and takes a deep breath to calm herself, when Bonzo’s hand lands at her arm. The gesture warms her from the inside out, and she gives him a watery smile in return.

“I just… I was just trying to help him, and he got all angry, and… Bonzo, I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, it’s alright, just start from the beginning? What did Pagey do?”

“He said you guys were gonna play ‘Dazed and Confused’, and I just,” Another deep breath, and her soft voice shatters the fragile silence that had settled over the room. “I thought it was too early, didn’t want him to rush it. He didn’t like that, and… we both said things we didn’t mean, and I just…”

Bonzo nods his head in understanding, rubbing calming circles into the woman’s arm as her head falls forward again, effectively hiding her face. Her hand comes up to catch the droplets falling from her eyes, as Bonzo’s moves to her back, a steady grounding presence.

“Look, Layla. You love him, yes?”

“Of course I do.”

“To me, it seems like he loves you too,” Layla looks up at this, glassy eyes searching his for any sign of a lie. Satisfied, she lets the corner of her lips drift upwards, eyes sparkling under the hotel lights. “So you need to talk to him.”

“Bonzo, I don’t know if that’s…”

“It doesn’t have to be now, birdie. You need some time, and that’s understandable. Whenever you’re ready, you should talk to him, though. You don’t want to lose him, and I’m sure he feels the same way.”

Layla nods, ringlets bouncing across her shoulders as she wipes the last traces of tears from her cheeks. Gazing across at the drummer beside her, she opens her mouth to thank him, but is cut off by a set of muscular arms wrapping around her back, encasing her in familiar warmth. Layla, a glowing smile lighting up her face, reciprocates the hug. It was… nice. She’s always been playful with Bonzo, but his comfort meant the world to her. She really had found a home here, with her boys. Finally pulling away, she gazes into Bonzo’s kind eyes, and grasps his large hand in hers.

“Bonham…”

“Oh no.”

“Thank you. Seriously, I appreciate this more than you know.” Bonzo’s smile is bright as he takes a small hand in his, helping the woman off the bed. Layla links her arm through his, as they walk towards the door.

“What do you say we go do something fun before the show, birdie?”

“Like what, Bonham?”

A smirk is the only reply she gets, as Bonzo leads them down the stairs into the lobby of the hotel. Passing by the expensive paintings pinned to the walls in intricate frames, Bonzo’s chatter floating in a cloud around them, Layla can’t help but think of how much she misses Jimmy. She wonders what he’s doing; if he’s over it already. If he’s moved on to something more important. What if she’s the only one who’s hurting?

If Layla had walked into their shared room at that moment, she would have seen Jimmy, huddled on the floor next to the ancient-looking radio. The voices of Simon and Garfunkel croon out from it’s speaker, the soft notes of ‘April Come She Will’ echoing through the near-empty room. She would have heard him muttering to himself, thinking of ways to fix it, to make it up to her. She would have seen him grab a jacket from the bronze hook on the door and walk out of the room, determination in his green eyes.

As Bonzo steers Layla through a doorway labelled ‘Bar and Lounge’ and slips a fruity-smelling drink into her hand, she relaxes somewhat. The air in the room is fuelled by laughter and comfort, and Layla’s mind slips from the fight she had with Jimmy. Thoughts of the guitarist himself remain, even as the haze of alcohol clouds her mind little by little. It seems like there’s rarely a moment that he’s not taking up most of her thoughts, as of late.

----------

Hours pass without a sign from Jimmy, and as the minutes ticked closer to showtime, everyone was getting antsy. Peter stands silent and tall by the front entrance of the hotel lobby, glancing out the glass windows for a sign of their raven-haired guitarist. Robert paces around the seating area, the hands carding through his hair just another sign of his stress. Jonesy, sitting on a comfortable, lavish chair next to Robert, bites his lips, hands fiddling in his lap as he tries to remain stoic. Even Bonzo, bogged down slightly by the couple of beers he consumed just a few minutes prior, was looking around for a sign of Jimmy, his brows furrowed in concern. Layla, having gone to check their room, rushes down the stairs towards the group, panic obvious on her pinched face.

“H-He wasn’t in there, and he took his jacket with him.”

A sigh floats over from Peter’s vigil at the door, and Robert finally stops in front of Layla, slipping an arm around her shoulder. Pulling her into his chest, he leans down to whisper into her ear.

“It’ll be okay, little dove. He’ll be back any second. It’s not like he’s capable of leaving you alone for too long anyways.”

Layla giggles softly, nodding as she looks up at Robert. Sending him a thankful smile, she wriggles out of his grasp, shoving him playfully to the side.

“You’re getting soft on me, Plant.”

“Says the one who stroked my hair for an hour.”

Retort hot on her lips, Layla is interrupted by the sigh of wind passing through the open door of the front entrance, and Peter’s loud cry of relief. Stepping through the door into the hotel lobby, hair windblown from his jaunt outside, Jimmy looks sheepish at all the eyes locked on him.

“Jim, my God, where have you been? We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“I just… there was something I had to do. I’m sorry for worrying you all.”

“It’s alright,” Peter takes a deep breath, a friendly hand landing on Jimmy’s shoulder. The guitarist’s mouth is still tilted downwards, embarrassed at the attention firmly placed on him. “Now that you’re here, we need to go. Follow me.”

Peter leads the group into the sleek black limousine waiting for them outside, and herds everyone in, closing the door as he enters after. The ride to the venue is filled with light chatter and questions directed at Jimmy about where he had gone, so close to showtime. Oddly enough, there was no response from him, only a quiet brush-off of the subject. Layla, sitting as far away from him as she could get, chances a look at her guitarist, only to find him looking back. His gaze wavers slightly, finally dropping to his knees. Layla sighs, eyes drifting to Bonzo, who seems wrapped up in a lighthearted conversation with Peter. Perhaps sensing the eyes on him, Bonzo looks up, meeting Layla’s gaze, and nods her way, his attempt to comfort her. Settling back into the leather upholstery of the seat, Layla closes her eyes. The ride to Madison Square Garden seemed to last hours, days even, to Layla, the distance between her and Jimmy creating a chasm in her heart. She missed his touch, and his sharp mind. She missed his caring nature hidden behind a wall of indifference; she even missed his tendencies to overthink the smallest thing. She missed her angel, and right now, nothing could fix that.

“We’re here, everyone out!” comes from Peter as he exits the vehicle, snapping Layla out of her thoughts. Everyone files out, and as Layla shuffles towards the door, a hand slides into view. An intricately-designed silver ring sits on the pinky. She knows the hand well, knows that when it holds her own, she feels safe. She can map out every freckle and callus and mark on it, imperfect constellations on alabaster skin. Layla accepts Jimmy’s outstretched hand, and stumbles out of the limousine. She’s blinded by the sun shining down on them, having grown too accustomed to the shallow light in the vehicle. Most of all, she’s blinded by Jimmy’s smile, awkward as he ducks his head.

“Thank you,” is whispered into the air between them, as notes of the woman’s floral perfume tickle his nose. Jimmy scrambles to catch up with his bandmates, a tell-tale blush rose-pink across his cheeks. The boys are led to their dressing room, left to their own devices until showtime, and Layla is nowhere to be found. The most likely explanation, to Jimmy, is that Peter sent her to complete, no doubt a part of their agreement. Still, though, he can’t help but worry. She had been furious with him earlier, for good reason. He doesn’t want to lose her.

Time passes like trickling grains of sand in an hourglass, as they’re accompanied to the mouth of the backstage area by Peter. Jimmy’s eyes dart around the room looking for a sign of perfect chestnut curls, and comes up short. Layla’s not there. Why should she be after all, he thinks. A frenzied roadie hands Jimmy his Les Paul, and the guitarist wipes the frown off his face, replacing it with a determined quirk of his lips. As he follows Robert onto the stage, a group of Davids walking into the den of the howling Goliath, he looks out at the sea of excited faces. Robert greets the fans with a flourish, as Bonzo counts them in. Sending one last glance to the lip of the stage, disappointment washes through him once again.

She’s really not there.

----------

Deep in the shadows of Madison Square Garden, Layla checks that everything is running smoothly. Lost in her thoughts, she ensures that the lighting and laser displays are rigged up perfectly. Preoccupied, she doesn't catch the way her breathing picks up, inching her closer towards panic. A hand lands on her back and she spins around, heart threatening to pound right out of her chest.

“Jesus, Peter!”

“Sorry, dear,” Peter chuckles, a sheepish smile on his whiskered face. His hand drops back to his side, and Layla straightens up from her crouched position. “Is everything okay?”

“O-Of course,” Layla shuffles her feet, a hand raising to scratch at her arm. The reply sounded forced, fake even to her own ears, and she looks down at her worn sneakers. Anything is better than looking up into the eyes that are no doubt full of sympathy.

“Look, Layla. I know something’s going on with you and Jimmy.”

“It’s just—”

“Whatever it is,” Peter interrupts, looking down at her fondly. “You two will get through it. You always do.”

Layla can only nod, a lump rising in her throat. Tears threaten to fall as she looks up at the man that’s been more of a father figure to her than anyone she knows. His gaze turns concerned, as he takes in the wet sheen over her eyes that glints in the low light.

“Layla, what’s wrong?”

“I just… I don’t know if he’s still gonna want me there, watching him. We fought, and I said some things that—”

Layla is surprised by the loud chuckle that flies out of Peter’s mouth at her words, and she frowns. A large hand lands on her shoulder, as Peter recovers enough to explain. The tall man sucks in a breath to steady himself, eyes still sparkling with amusement.

“He loves you, even if he hasn’t said as much. When you spend as much time as I do with this lot, you get to know them almost too well. He wants you there, Layla.”

“But what if he’s still angry?”

“Can I let you in on a secret, dear?” A nod from Layla serves as confirmation, and Peter continues, “He’s been looking out into the wings every minute or so. Looking for you. If he is still angry, he’s not doing a very convincing job of it.”

A blush warms Layla’s cheeks as her attention is stolen by a particularly important scuff mark on her shoes. Looking back up at Peter, she steps forward, slipping her arms around his back in a light embrace. Peter laughs again, and Layla can feel the rumble of it, pressed against the man.

“What’s all this for?”

“For everything. Just… Thank you, Peter.” Peter’s arms wind around her at last. Layla pulls away, a glowing smile splitting her cheeks.

“Now, you’ve checked everything over, yes?”

“Yeah, all done. Need anything else?” Peter’s hands raise up to his chin at this, stroking it in thought. A smirk rises on his lips as he looks down at the woman, fondness clear in his gaze.

“If you go quickly, you’ll get to the wings in time for the last few songs.”

Layla can only nod, speechless at the man’s kindness. Peter pats her shoulder once more, and she’s off, rushing to make it in time. As she nears the lip of the stage, she can hear Jonesy’s bass, loaded notes reverberating around the stadium. The ocean in front of them erupts into chaotic cheers, nearly drowning out the music being played. Jimmy chimes in, piercing cries shooting out from his guitar. Robert’s captivating voice echoes from the microphone, capturing the crowd’s attention immediately.

“Been dazed and confused, for so long, it's not true. Wanted a woman, never bargained for you...”

Bonzo breaks through with a thundering fill, and the audience erupts. Jimmy’s face contorts in pure ecstasy as he slides his fingers up and down the fretboard, charming the crowd with the notes he squeezes out of the weeping guitar. They are completely in sync, almost telepathic in their connection. Layla knew exactly how talented they were, of course, but this… This was arresting. She was unable to look away.

All of a sudden it goes quiet, Jonesy’s heavy bass the star of the show again. Robert and Bonzo share a subtle smirk, and watch the bassist enchant the crowd. Jimmy’s gaze floats over to the wings once more, and he jolts, spotting Layla looking right back at him.

Layla, holding his gaze, raises her hand in a bashful wave, a trembling smile lighting up her face. Distantly, she can feel hot tears rolling down her cheeks, but the only thing she’s focusing on is the blinding smile on the guitarist’s face as they lock eyes.

Suddenly, Jimmy looks away, turning to pick up a bow resting on the amp next to him. Whipping back to face the crowd, he glides the bow across the strings of his guitar. An otherworldly shriek sounds throughout the stadium, the audience hanging onto his every beck and call. Layla is simply enraptured by the confidence emanating from him, unable to shift her gaze from his face. Jimmy’s eyes are closed in concentration, mouth a stern line out of focus. Robert mimics the eerie wails, and the rhythm section links up, playing off of one another. Total synchronicity.

Over as soon as it started, Jimmy throws down the shredded bow and launches into an electric solo, captivating the sea of people in front of him. The cheers reach a frightening level as they finish, the solid wall of sound finally crumbling. Layla wipes her cheeks and they come away wet. She looks back up at the stage, and finds Jimmy looking right back at her. He nods at her, eyes suspiciously glassy under the glaring stage lights. The smile on his face is brighter than the spotlight bearing down on him.

----------

Making her way to the dressing room, Layla’s eyes search for her guitarist. She finally finds him, deep in conversation with Robert, who looks up at her as she enters. Robert smirks, and whispers something to Jimmy, walking off with a subtle wink thrown to Layla. Jimmy meets her gaze, and breaks into a wide smile, rushing towards her.

Immediately, Layla is engulfed in a tight hug, feeling her feet leave the ground as Jimmy spins her around. Her laugh sounds watery as it flutters past her lips, and she presses her face into Jimmy’s neck. He smells largely of sweat, but notes of his usual scent tickle her nose. Setting her on the ground once more, Jimmy pulls away, hands resting on her cheeks.

“You came. I didn’t think you would.”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“It’s okay, petal,” Jimmy’s thumbs rub comforting circles into her cheekbones as he silences her with a kiss. Their foreheads pressed together still, Jimmy grins at her, feeling happier than he ever thought he could. Tears trail a familiar path down Layla’s face as she stares into his green eyes, alight with love and adoration. Jimmy wipes them away gently, pushing a loose curl behind Layla’s ear. “We can talk about this back at the hotel, okay?”

The woman nods, and they follow the rest of the band out the door, Jimmy’s arm slung around her shoulder. The couple sit pressed up against each other on the ride back, and Layla’s eyes meet Bonzo’s as they drift around the limo. He grins at her, and she nods back at him, a grateful smile painting her lips.

Back at the hotel, the couple get ready for bed in silence, and slip under the covers, melting together in a tight embrace. Almost as if they were afraid to lose each other. The scene is reminiscent of the way the day had started: wrapped up in each other under the privacy of the warm covers. A comfortable silence settles over them as Jimmy presses his lips to the top of Layla’s head, fingers drawing mindless patterns across the bare skin of her arm.

“So,” Layla whispers, looking up at Jimmy from her place in his arms. He looks back down at her, and his eyes send butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “We should… probably talk about this.”

“Layla,” Jimmy sighs, looking away, frown creasing his features. Layla reaches up to press a soft kiss to his cheek in an attempt to cheer him up. “I’m… sorry I said all those awful things, I just…”

“Jimmy, it’s okay—”

“It’s not. I just… I thought you were implying that I couldn’t play, and… I’ve been feeling useless ever since the tour started. It hit a nerve.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that…”

“I know you didn’t,” Rose-pink lips land in her hair once more, and the guitarist holds her tighter, hugging her to his chest. “It wasn’t your fault, and I shouldn’t have blown up at you. You had every right to be angry with me.”

“Jimmy…”

“Are we okay, Layla?”

She nods, head pressed against the man’s chest, his heartbeat strong in her ear. Silence settles over them once again, as they lay together, comforted by the knowledge that everything was alright between them.

“Layla?” Jimmy shifts, looking down to see her reaction. She hums into his chest, and the sable-haired man huffs out a tired laugh. “Did you mean it? During the… fight?”

“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific there, angel.”

“When you said that you… loved me. I knew you were falling for me, but…”

“Jimmy,” Layla starts, the smile that graces her face almost seeping into her words. Placing a warm hand over the man’s heart, she answers him, “Of course I did. How could I not love you? You’re everything to me.”

Jimmy hums distractedly, shifting out from under her. Rising from the bed, he walks to the door, shivering from the absence of the warmth that Layla had given him. Pulling the blanket tighter around her, Layla sits up against the headboard, looking after Jimmy quizzically.

“Jimmy, what are you doing? Come back, you’re gonna freeze!”

The only response she receives is a lovely view of his backside, and the sound of him fiddling through the pockets of the jacket that rested on a bronzed hook. Distantly, Layla is reminded of his impromptu adventure earlier today. Opening her mouth to question him once more, Jimmy beats her to it.

“Aha! Here it is,” Scurrying back under the covers, he reclines back against the headboard, turning to face Layla. Jimmy takes a deep breath as he looks into her eyes, and she notices a glimmer of uncertainty in his moss green eyes, glinting like an emerald in the moonlight filtering through the window. “Layla, I… You’ve seen me at my worst. I snapped at you, I dismissed you when you were just trying to take care of me, and—”

“Jimmy, what’s going on?”

“I just thought you should know… I love you. Whenever I think about you, my heart feels lighter than it ever has. I would… I would do anything for you.”

Looking down at his hands, which were clenched into fists, he brings one in view. In his hand sits a small velvet box, a lush scarlet in colour. As Jimmy opens the tiny box, Layla can’t help the gasp that escapes her.

“Jimmy…”

Inside the box sits a beautiful ring, the simple silver band twinkling in the dim light. Garnet gemstones adorn the band, and Layla’s hand flies up to her mouth, taken aback by the beauty of it.

“You did say your favourite gem was garnet.”

“Jimmy, this… I…”

“Do you like it?”

Layla leans over to press a chaste kiss to his lips, the taste of salty tears ever-present. Her mouth opens and closes, unable to find the words to describe just how she feels. Settling for a tearful nod, she wipes at her cheeks. Taking her trembling hand in his, Jimmy slips the ring onto her finger, and presses it to his lips.

“When… When did you have the time to get this?”

“When I walked out, earlier, I went to a jewelry store. Saw this ring, and thought of you. I knew it was the one,” Jimmy whispers, afraid to break the carefully crafted quiet of the room by raising his voice any louder. “I wanted you to know that I’m serious about this. I want you, and everything that comes with it. We’re a long way from perfect, but this a promise that we’ll get there, petal.”

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you too. I want this to last, and I want to do this properly. You mean the world to me, Layla.”

“I feel the same way. I… I’ve wanted to get to know you since the second I saw you. You were beautiful, and kind, and… You know, even when you knocked me to the ground in the studio, I couldn’t help but like you.”

“Oh God… I can’t believe I did that.”

“I’ll have you know, angel,” Layla laughs, putting her head on his shoulder, hand outstretched to look at the glimmering ring. “Robert teased me for a week after that.”

“Just imagine what he’ll say when he finds out about the ring then.”

“Oh god… He’ll never let it go.”

“Well,” Jimmy starts, pressing chapped lips to Layla’s cheek. The woman smiles up at him, complete adoration lining her face as she gazes up at him. “I got the greatest girl in the world to love me back, so admittedly, I’m not too afraid of what he’ll do.”

“Jimmy Page, I never expected you to be so sappy.”

“Just another side of me, petal. I assure you, there are multitudes.”

“Right,” Layla drawls, smiling lazily up at him from under her long eyelashes. “You’re also the ‘devil in disguise’, or so you’ve said. I can see right through it.”

Laughter fills the room, until the couple lapse into silence. Minutes pass, as they revel in each other’s company, until a muffled rumble shatters the quiet of the room.

“Someone’s hungry. Stay there, petal, I’ll order us some room service.” Slipping out of Layla’s grasp, he leans over the edge of the bed to reach the black lacquered rotary phone sitting on the bedside table. Rattling off their order, Jimmy relaxes back into Layla’s hold, arms finding their way around her once more. Before they know it, a knock sounds at the door. Standing up from the bed, Jimmy walks out of the bedroom and into the living area of the large suite. Almost instantly, faint strokes of an acoustic guitar resonate from the radio that sat untouched for hours. Soft chimes float through the air, and Layla’s heartbeat pounds like a bass drum to accompany it.

It’s happening.

Lifting herself out of the bed to investigate, Layla nears the radio. It wasn’t on, the dials were motionless, though sound rippled out of its speakers. A smooth, raspy voice rings out across the near-empty room, singing beautiful words about a lost love. From her spot in bed, Layla can hear Jimmy’s voice, “is that my song on the radio, petal?”, filter through the doorway. Reaching out to touch the radio, to turn it off, Layla is met with sparks, as everything goes black.

The words continue to pour out of the radio, ringing out into the room:

“Left, left to find, someone kind, who won't leave me behind. Who will guide me when I am blind; soothe my brow, when thoughts hurt my brain; help me love, when faced with pain. I long to find someone who will remind me of you. Only the black rose knows what I will do.”

Her eyes flutter open, and she’s staring at a familiar popcorn ceiling.

------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy (let me know if you want to be added!)

#only the black rose #jimmy page #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x oc #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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