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honeybadgercomeback · 1 year

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Come Back, Be Here (Part Two) | DR3

His heart was glass and you dropped it, but you dropped yours too. Four months after ending things your new job lands you back in the one place you never wanted to be. The paddock of the Yas Marina Circuit for the final Formula One Grand Prix of the season. Part One

Warnings: angst, like…heavy angst, Christian Horner (being a decent guy), arguments, mentions of McLaren being dicks, a happy ending (I promised didn’t I).

Words: 5.9k

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Living in Nice was strange for you, but it helped. You’d spent plenty of time there when you’d needed out of the Monaco bubble and living there full time made a difference. It was a lot of fun as you wandered around your hometown, visiting museums and galleries. Most evenings you walked home from your new job along the seafront. Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of a yacht in the Mediterranean and your heart would ache a little bit.

Time hadn’t healed anything. If it had done anything at all, you just felt guiltier. Two weeks after you left him Dan put up an instagram story saying that you’d ended your relationship and you both wanted privacy. When you’d first seen it all you could think was of Lando’s one and how he’d probably helped Dan phrase it, which set off more tears. You reposted it and then logged out of the account altogether. It had been left untouched as you set up a finsta to keep an eye on the people you’d loved. The decision to set it up was probably the worst thing you could have done but you couldn’t help it.

You watched every race, getting up early for Suzuka and your heart in your chest as you saw Carlos crash and the tractor on the track. Hearing Pierre’s radio made you wish you were thousands of miles away so you could wrap him in a hug. Every time you heard someone on radio you felt so guilty but you were the one who left. You weren’t allowed feel guilty about it.

The only person it hurt nearly as much to see as Dan was Kelly. You’d hold your finger on the screen and stare at the pictures of the family, missing P’s hugs and the way she’d started calling you her aunt.

But aside from the heartache it was the right thing. You’d gotten a new job as one of the marketing leads in a VR company, a mix of in the office and at home. You’d made friends with the couple who lived across the hall and every week you’d swap between who hosted for dinner. Your colleagues were fun and you got drinks with them on a Thursday to celebrate the week nearly over. It was easy to fall into a routine and forget how lonely your bed was.

Except every night you’d wake up feeling cold because your human radiator wasn’t there. You kept seeing people in the media call Dan washed up and useless and you wanted to scream that he wasn’t. He was one of the best men you knew and he deserved respect and support rather than the bullshit they were talking about. That if you’d been in any of the meetings with Zak you’d have been hard pressed to not rip him a new one for the lies he’d told about how they’d work with Daniel. You’d have slipped some sly words to members of the press who you knew and trusted.

But you were on the outside of all of it and you didn’t get to say anything about it anymore. You were the ex fiancée. It wasn’t your place.

Your manager had told you that there was a sponsorship organised with a UK based sports team, that you’d be having a meeting with their top executive. So you were sitting in the office on the zoom meeting, talking about plans for their final match of the year. The familiar ding that someone had arrived beeped, and you looked up to see Christian H in the new slot, camera still not on.

“We’re happy to make this public in Abu Dhabi. We’re doing a big announcement about our drivers for next year then too, so we can have this year and next years involved. This stays in the room, obviously, but we’re signing one of our former drivers to come back for next year. Daniel will be more than happy to get involved in any marketing we need.” Your breath caught and you almost missed your cue to speak until Emilie, your manager, nudged you in the arm.

“Perfect. We’ll need to do a briefing to make sure they’re all aware of the branding.” Please let it all be wrong. Please let it be a completely different Christian with the same voice involved in sports in Abu Dhabi. Please.

“Oh they’re aware, Max is a big fan. He bought the bundle as soon as it was released, when we mentioned the sponsorship was happening he offered to send photos of him and his girlfriend playing on it.” The camera finally went on and your prayers weren’t answered. Christian Horner was on the screen in the meeting room, and you could tell immediately that he recognised you. You just kept yourself together and acted like you were jotting down notes.

“If he wasn’t I’d nearly be surprised, Max and video games are like him and winning races this season. I’ll be in touch with a slide deck next week, is the email we sent this meeting invite to the best one to get you on?” You were proud of how professional your voice sounded.

“Of course. It’s good to see you again, will you be in Abu Dhabi?”

“N—“

“Yes, the two of us are going.” Emilie cut into your denial and you just kept your face steady, the photographer smile you’d perfected plastered on it. “The two of us are flying out, we’ll discuss it together and settle on dates. We’ll have a meeting to confirm next week with you, Christian.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you both then.”

It ended and you glared at your manager as the room emptied until it was just the two of you sitting there. Emilie looked at you.

“I can’t be there. If I turn up the media will be all over me. And I can’t work with Daniel. If it was Max and Checo only I could do it, but not Dan. I can’t do it.”

“And if the media are all over you then we get even more visibility for this sponsorship. Plus you know how Formula One works better than anyone else here. You know exactly what we’ll get away with. You need to be there.

“Fuck.” This week couldn’t get worse, and all you wanted to do was go home and drown your sorrows in a bottle of wine. Instead you couldn’t, because you were taking the lead with Red Bull.

It meant meetings every couple of days with Red Bull’s marketing team, Horner sitting in when he could. You’d met all of them in other contexts and the look of surprise was clear on everyone’s face. The last time you’d spoken to any of them apart from a casual wave was at Dan’s leaving party, when Horner had asked if there was any way you could convince your then boyfriend to stay at Red Bull. He wasn’t too impressed when you told him that it was all Dan’s decision. But here you were talking distribution deals, how Daniel and Max would have their own box designs and the development team was working on a new game where you could drive the car in VR. In return your brand was pride of place on their cars and you were giving millions of dollars. Win win situation.

The meeting was wrapping up and you were organising the final logistics about Abu Dhabi when a door opened on Christian’s side and you heard an oh too familiar voice.

“You wanted to see me?” It was Max and you couldn’t stay in the meeting much longer. You didn’t want to see him until you were ready so you could be ready for his anger at your lies.

“I’ll let you go. Email me if you need any more details?” You asked, hoping he’d just end the call and Max wouldn’t have time to recognise your voice.

“I think that should be everything until you get out to us. You’re arriving on the Thursday and we’re doing the big event on Saturday with the car unveiling, correct?”

“That’s right. I’m flying back here on Saturday, and we’ll have a representative there on Sunday to see the race. I think Emilie is staying.”

“You should be there. Have you missed the races?”

“I haven’t missed the media chaos. I’ll see you then.”

“Wait is that—“ You hit the end meeting button before Max could say anything else, sitting back in your chair with your hands over your face. Eight days until you arrived at Yas Marina and had to face your past again, and each time you thought about it you felt nauseous.

The one silver lining was that you didn’t have any meetings with Horner until the Thursday morning at the paddock when you were in Abu Dhabi. You thought you could have a week without talking to anyone from Red Bull, but Tuesday when you were part working from home and part packing you received an email. You should have guessed Max would have done anything to get your contact information.

SUB: DO NOT DELETE

FROM: [email protected]

Hey,

First, don’t blame Christian for this. He left his iPad open when he left the room and I got your email address from his calendar. He refused to give me your details when I asked.

We miss you. I get why you had a clean break but you’re really missed. Kel thought she did something wrong until I told her about the elevator. P still asks if you’re coming to visit. She’s stopped asking Dan about where you are but that took a while. I tried to do what you asked and look after him but he’s still struggling. Checo’s retiring to stay home with the kids now they’re old enough to realise how often he’s gone, so Dan’s taking the seat. Horner made the joke that maybe he’d find the love of his life in Milton Keynes and none of us could mention he already had.

I haven’t warned him you’ll be there. Christian was going to tell us both on Thursday before you arrive in the paddock. If you want me to give him more notice I can.

Look after yourself for us? Everyone asks if we’ve talked to you. They all just wish you’d give your new number to call. If you still have our numbers nobody will get mad. And if you need them again just ask and I’ll send it all over. I miss my second sister.

Max

You started crying in your office as you reread the last paragraph. You missed everyone so much. Ending things had blown up your relationship and your friendships and none of it had been worth it. Yeah, your career was great but you were so, so lonely. Everyone who tried flirting with you to got compared to Dan and they never came out on top. It had been four months and the ache in your chest had barely lessened. Your hand still felt like there was something missing. You missed everything you’d given up. You even missed the jet lag.

It was the biggest mistake of your life, and in a few days you had to see him and pretend you were ok even though the exact opposite was true. Instead of replying to the email you opened WhatsApp on your phone and thumbed open the archived chats. There were so many messages there that you hadn’t read, but you opened the one with Max that had mostly been him sending you cat photos.

I miss you too

It took less than a minute for a response to come through.

It’s so good to hear from you. Kelly’s here, can we call?

He didn’t give you a chance to make the decision, a video call coming through with his name and WhatsApp photo. You wiped your face roughly and answered to see the couple in the tiny frame, heads pinned together

“Oh my god you’re there. You’re actually there. I thought Max had made a mistake when he said he’d heard you in a meeting but you’re here.” You couldn’t stop the tears as Kelly kept speaking, grins between you both.

“I missed you. I’m so sorry for everything, I just…I’m sorry. I’ll be there on Wednesday.”

“We’re seeing you. P is going to be so excited, she’s missed you so much.”

It was the briefest catch up before they had to go for their flight but you got to see them and they weren’t angry. Once you hung up you texted Kelly, the immediate flurry of emojis in response making you grin and miss her all over again. The final thing was a voice note from Penelope telling you she couldn’t wait for a hug. You re-listened to it on your flight to Abu Dhabi, lifting your spirits and making you feel like you could do it.

Max warned you with a text that he’d told Dan you were involved in the sponsorship event and that he was staying with McLaren until after the race. Once it was done he was moving over to the Red Bull hotel. They’d agreed to loan him out for the event only and you wondered what Christian had threatened to be able to get that much from them. You’d be gone by Saturday afternoon so it would be fine. You’d just see them for a few hours, leave, and get back on a plane.

You’d forgotten how easy it was to check into a hotel when a team had organised it, just giving your names and the keycards were released. As you turned to get your suitcase a three year old ran into your legs, wrapping her arms around your hips.

“I missed you!” Your manager looked confusedly as you hoisted P up onto your hip, Kelly running across the lobby to you.

“Missed you too, Princess P. What’s happening?”

“She’s supposed to be going to bed but saw you and ran.” Kelly gave you a one armed hug, the look in her eyes clear that you’d be having an in-depth discussion before the weekend was out.

“Uncle Danny gave me ice cream. He looked sad but when I asked he said it was ‘cause he didn’t have any so he got us all some!” You could tell from Kelly’s face exactly what had made your ex sad, but you shook your head and made yourself smile.

“Ice cream always makes me happy too. Go with your Mama and I’ll see you soon, ok? I have to work this weekend.”

“Will you be in the laranja building?” You shook your head at the Portuguese she dropped in when she was sleepy.

“I won’t be at the race. I’m going home before it happens, I have to work.”

“Oh.” She was gearing up for a tantrum but Kelly got in quickly and pulled her for a cuddle.

“I’ll get her to bed. Breakfast tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

Emilie knew that you knew Christian. She knew you were familiar with how Formula One worked. But she had no idea of your complete backstory and why you were so against coming this weekend. So over a room service burger that tasted too much like the first time you’d stayed in this hotel with Daniel you did the brief highlights of the last five years of your life.

“So you dated a driver, were engaged, ended things, and he’s one of the guys we’re spending hours with on Saturday before practice?” Emilie asked as you lay back on your bed and groaned.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“It explains why Horner’s assistant didn’t ask for your photo.” You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at her. “She said we needed paddock passes for the weekend and we needed photos for security to confirm. I offered to send her yours but she said your pass was still active.”

“Merde.” The French expletive slipped out as you lay back, taking a pillow and screaming into it. Emilie stared until you could get your shit together and sat up.

“I was at every race until the summer break, I only missed a race if I was sick. Daniel and I split up a week before Spa. He’d just come home after signing his contract ending deal and I couldn’t keep things going on my own anymore. I broke his heart but he didn’t cancel my pass…he wanted me to come to a race.”

“That’s why every week you always seemed sad on Fridays.”

“Yeah. Ugh. And he’s still upset and I’m still heartbroken. It’s going to be a mess.”

“We’ll get you through it.”

And you made yourself do it. Arriving on Thursday was harder than you’d expected, keeping your head down to avoid people who you’d known as friends and who you’d spent so much time with. So many of the Alpine team had been there when it was Renault, and Esteban jogged over to give you a hug before realising you were there for work. But the Frenchman couldn’t keep a secret, before long the paddock regulars were abuzz that you were back there without Dan by your side.

An advance team had installed the machines and set up the games, you were there to make sure that the branding was visible and nobody messed up on the social media side of things. Drivers came over to interact with the VR headsets as you stood near the back to get Emilie to deal with them. Sebastian refused, instead coming over to give you a giant hug.

“I should be congratulating you on your final race,” you murmured into his shoulder.

“I didn’t think I’d see you at another one.”

“Work calls.” You separated slightly at that, giving a shrug before indicating to the photographer to leave Hanna and the kids alone and waving to them.

“He misses you.” The words were tender but you shook your head, giving him a final hug before letting go and remembering just how restorative they were.

“It was the right decision. He deserved more than me.”

Before Sebastian could refute what you’d said one of his daughters pulled him away, leaving you to breathe a sigh of relief. The photo of him hugging you went up on the brand account, your still unused public profile tagged on it. But it being public meant more people came up to you. There were conversations you never wanted to have but you were forced into them.

“You’ve some nerve.” The paddock was nearly empty as you turned to see Lewis speak while you were tidying the final things away before leaving for the night. He stood there in a bright outfit, lights from Williams hospitality illuminating him.

“I don’t want to be here. But when my job calls, I answer. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.”

“Should have thought of that before—“

“You’re saying this like it was on a whim. Like I enjoyed it. I broke my own heart in the process and it’s not healing. But he deserves so much more than I can give him, and I deserve someone who can put me higher than tenth on their list. He couldn’t do that anymore. I don’t expect anyone to understand what happened and I don’t expect anyone to be friendly and forgive me. I just want to get through this weekend and leave on Saturday and pretend I was only here four times instead of five. So just…just ignore me or whatever you need to do, ok? I’ll do the same.”

You didn’t know where the words came from, months of hurt and anger coming out at Lewis who you’d barely spoken to before. The packing was finished and you locked the shutter in place, Lewis stepping back to watch you do it. Your arms were full and he tried to take the top box but you turned away.

“I’m a grown adult.”

“And I picked a fight I shouldn’t have touched. Can I help?” You got him to scan your paddock pass to get you out, walking in silence to the hire car Red Bull had organised. Everything was packed away when you finally had the courage to ask the question nobody was really answering. The two of you had barely been acquaintances, definitely not friends, so it was easier to ask him than anyone else.

“I know I have no right to an answer…but how is he?”

Lewis turned to look at you with the softest expression you’d seen on his face in a long time. “He’s fucking miserable. He turned up in Spa alone and we were worried about him, then the press realised you weren’t there and asked Michael if you’d dumped him because he was getting fired. None of us knew anything until Carmen told George you’d left the WhatsApp group and changed your number. Then we realised what had happened. That triple header was tough on him, I’ve never seen him so sad after that Monza DNF.”

You sighed and pulled your hair from your face in the desert night, making yourself listen to everything Lewis had to say.

“He’s doing better now but he’s still not great. I think he asked every one of us if we noticed anything, if he’d done something obvious. He doesn’t believe it’s not his fault even though he said it. Seb nearly punched him when he realised that he’d missed your anniversary. We were out in Singapore after the race there, that’s when it hit him. But the last couple of weeks he’s doing ok. He’s had some almost smiles.”

“Thanks for looking after him for me.”

“I always will, you know that. I’ll see you tomorrow and you can get some photos of me looking stupid.”

That night you were supposed to have dinner with Max and Kelly in the hotel restaurant but you texted an apology, instead going straight to your room and sobbing your heart out into the spare pillow as you mourned for the pain you’d caused.

Friday morning came too early. The last thing you wanted to do was get up and face the world but you still had a job to do. A cold shower helped the puffiness on your face, your makeup was impeccable even with the heat. The tricks you’d learned from being constantly photographed meant that you could get ready quickly and as soon as you closed your hotel room door you were on and ready for the day that you knew would have hugs and probably involve looking at people who hated you. But you and Emilie arrived together to open up.

Charlotte and Isa were the first two there, arriving as you powered on the devices calling your name. You were wrapped in a hug as Emilie looked on, the Ferrari men standing a few meters away and nodding to you when you separated from their girlfriends. You set them up playing tennis between them, laughing at the scenes in front of you. It didn’t take long for you to put your press face on, getting into a rhythm of greeting the people you knew by name and smiling at everyone else. But then he arrived and the fragile bandages on your heart split open.

“Can I play?” He was skinnier than when you’d last seen him, corded muscles too visible on his arms, face almost gaunt. His smile was there but it wasn’t a real one. You ached knowing this was your fault.

“Of course. Put this headset on and you’ll be in the game. The controllers act as your hands. Have fun.” You passed over each device one at a time as he was ready to go, keeping your skin away from his. You didn’t get to touch him. The VR had a number of games but at the last minute you changed it to a pattern bashing one that had always reminded you of his reaction games. It didn’t take long for Dan to get into a rhythm, barely missing a beat.

You couldn’t help but smile at how he moved, remembering the way he used to dance around the living room before pulling you up to dance with him. But then it was over and you schooled your face back to neutrality to see him and put the equipment back.

“And your score is…” It took a moment for the numbers to appear, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “33,333. Turns out it’s a lucky number after all. Congratulations, Daniel.” His full name felt wrong on your tongue but you;d lost the right to use a nickname for him.

“Thanks, B—“ He cut himself off and you nodded.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” As he walked away you saw Michael and Blake stand outside the unit waiting for him. You wanted to apologise for hurting their best friend, but it was clear from their faces they’d never want to talk to you again. You didn’t blame them.

The rest of the day went in a crawl for you and all you wanted to do was scream. He’d been right there in front of you but you couldn’t touch him. The tears were piling up at the back of your head waiting for a moment for you to let your guard down but you couldn’t. You weren’t allowed to cry until you were back in the hotel. The only saving grace was that Emilie was on closing up duties so you got to leave once FP2 was over. The screen in your unit had the stream up and you watched the practice go, staring at the people you’d been so close to before driving in circles. You slipped back to the hotel in the crowds that were leaving to hide away, deciding to get room service when you finished this bout of crying.

When would it stop? When would you finally be over him? If not over him at least when would it stop hurting like that August night? You were going to see him a couple of times a year at a minimum from now on, and if each moment hurt like this you wouldn’t survive it. You didn’t want it to be this painful. If you could go back in time to the woman who was so sure it was the right call you’d scream at her to change her mind. But you couldn’t. And he deserved the chance to be happy.

Knocks on your hotel room door disturbed the pity party, so you wiped your eyes to make yourself a little more presentable. Once the mascara streaks could be confused with artfully smudged eyeliner you stood straight and opened the door as the knocking continued.

“Emilie, I’m fine. I just need to get through tom…Daniel.” He was standing right in front of you. He looked as through the wringer as you felt, staring right at you and not looking away. There was less than a meter between the two of you and it was too much space and not enough at the same time. “How did you get my room number?”

“Penelope. She asked why I was sad earlier and I said I missed you, so she asked Max what your room number was. She’s crafty for barely more than a toddler.” You let out a wet laugh, trying to cover that you’d just been sobbing over him.

“I was supposed to go for dinner with them last night. Decided on a night alone in my room instead.”

“I was also supposed to be at dinner with them, but tonight. Which is my excuse for being here but I needed to come up here instead. I need to ask you one question, ok?”

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell him to leave and go back to crying. You wanted to close the door and to forget that he’d appeared there, try to forget the five years you’d spent together. But you owed him this at the very least. After everything that had happened between you, you owed Daniel the truth. No matter how it hurt you.

“You deserve answers.”

He stopped at your confirmation, licked his lower lip and looked you straight in the eyes with his molten brown ones. It was like he was searching your soul for something you weren’t quite sure of, but whatever he saw gave him the strength to continue.

“Do you still love me?”

It wasn’t what you’d expected him to ask. Wasn’t what you’d imagined him asking in your wildest dreams. But he was there at your hotel door and you could never lie to Daniel Ricciardo as long as you lived.

“I don’t know how to stop loving you. And that’s what hurts so much about all of this.”

The words were barely out of your mouth when he closed the gap between you, broad hands on your waist as he pulled you close and kissed you soundly. It took a moment for you to realise what was even happening but you kissed him back, hands running through the hair you’d missed so much. He was there and you were in his arms and if this was the last kiss the two of you ever shared you were memorising all of it.

A ding from the elevator bell reminded you that you were semi in public, separating and breathing heavily. His hands were still on you, yours around his neck as a small smile - a real one - appeared on his lips.

“Can I?” You nodded back to him before bringing him into the room and settling on the small sofa with him. His arm went around your shoulders to pull you close, holding onto him for dear life. It didn’t feel like reality to you.

“I’m sorry. For not realising how much I was taking from you. For missing our anniversary. All of it. You…you deserved so much more than I gave you for our entire relationship. I’m just so sorry I didn’t realise what I was doing in time to save us.”

“Do you still love me?”

It was clear he hadn’t expected you to ask the question he’d asked as his body froze before looking at you. But you held his gaze the exact same way he’d held yours as you waited for your answer.

“You’re the love of my fucking life.”

It was a practiced move the way you leaned over and threw one thigh over his, pulling him into a bruising kiss as you were spread over his lap. Your forehead leaned against his, hands cupping his jaw as he held you tight against him.

“I was wrong to end things. And we have so much to talk about and work through, and please understand couples therapy is about to be compulsory. But I love you and you love me and if we still feel this way after four months then we’re worth saving.”

You watched the widest grin you’d seen on him in years spread across his face, a hand reaching up to run his thumb over your cheekbones before Dan brought you into a lingering kiss.

He cancelled dinner, citing that he was nervous about tomorrow in the text to Max. Instead he helped you pack a bag with a work outfit before the two of you snuck away from the hotel to get back to his. Michael and Blake were sitting in the lobby, the two men looking stern as you arrived with Dan beside you.

“What’s she doing here?” Michael asked. You wanted to shrink away but held your head up, Dan’s hand on yours.

“We’re trying again.” Three words that made you want to sing.

“But you…” he trailed off and you took the opening it provided.

“We were both a mess, and I know ending things was my decision. But we love each other and we’re trying to make it work.” You took a deep breath before saying the next words. “I owe both of you the biggest thanks for looking after him while I wasn’t there. I made the biggest mistake of my life walking away, and I can’t thank you enough for keeping him going.”

The words softened them and you got nods, knowing that when Dan was in a car you’d get a lecture. But it’d be worth it.

“See you tomorrow. The two of you going to the paddock together?” Blake asked as Dan nodded.

“Yeah, we’ll be going early so she can open up. See you both there.”

It was quick to Dan’s room, the elevator door opening to Lando on his phone. You could have laughed at the way his jaw dropped seeing the two of you there, but Dan did it first.

“Hey, Mate.”

“But you’re…what? I was avoiding the VR all day cause I thought you wouldn’t want us hanging out? When did this?”

“Today. And come over tomorrow, I’ll give you a longer go. But you’ll have some tough competition to beat, I’m just saying.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll keep this quiet till tomorrow for you too.”

You spent that night talking, having the hard conversations neither of you really wanted to have. How you both needed to compromise, the races you would and wouldn’t attend. How he’d support you and do what he could to make life easier for you with the media and stop ignoring the crap that was said about you. And you promised to tell him when you were worried about something. But it was worth it to have Dan pull that familiar box out of his suitcase and open it.

“I couldn’t leave this behind. Don’t ask me why, but it’s come everywhere with me. Will you please, please marry me?”

“Of course I will.”

Getting ready the next morning was terrifying. It wasn’t just the publicity, but his family were about to arrive and you hadn’t seen them since the break up and now you were back together. As you began to overthink Dan realised, handing you one of his new merch shirts to wear to the paddock. You put your work one underneath, but this was your way to prove exactly what was happening. It was the two of you and nothing else would matter.

Michael was outside the hotel room door when you were walking out, and the man was surprised when you hugged him. He hugged you back after a moment and you looked up to him.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for all of it, and Dan and I have talked about it. But thank you for being there for him when I couldn’t be.”

“Please don’t do it again?”

“Never.” He caught sight of your ring and smiled, hugging Dan and clapping his back. The three of you got into the car and made it to the circuit, your phone beeping with texts from Emilie asking where you were. You promised you’d be there in a minute and got an eye rolling emoji in return.

“Are you ready, Babe?” Dan asked as he put it into park and you nodded while gathering up your bag.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The photographers were taking shots of both of you entering, hands firmly clasped together until you had to separate to swipe in. A hair tie was keeping the oversized shirt from turning into a dress, and it was very obvious you were together. He didn’t stop until he was just outside your unit, leaning in for a final kiss before letting you go.

“See you in an hour for the unveiling?” He asked and you grinned.

“I’ll see you then. Good luck.”

“I don’t need it, I’ve got you back.”

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1016week · 4 months

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1016 Week 2023 - The Round-Up (Part 2)

Hello again, fellow Piarlies ❤️💙 Like we said here, we'd like to invite you all to come celebrate Piarles with us here on Tumblr! Today, on the 26th (AKA, the 10+16th) we are celebrating our beloved squid boys by posting the final round-up of all content created for 1016 Week 2023.

It turns out that all our Piarles content was too powerful for just one post - you guys blew us all away with the sheer amount of content you created, and apparently you blew Tumblr away too, because the Part 1 post broke the character limit 🤭 So, here is Part 2 of the official 1016 Week 2023 round-up! Don't forget to give our wonderful creators some love in the form of reblogs, replies, kudos, comments and bookmarks ❤️💙

Day 5 - Boat

I pick you up and take you through the night by @wolfiemcwolferson [fic]

Pierre and Charles have an understanding - things work a certain way. Pierre decides to change that.

we're made of starlights by @your-littlesecret [fic]

“We should go.” Charles says, breathless from the run from the office. “Go? Where are we going?” Pierre frowns, tilting his head slightly. “The boat. Anywhere. Everywhere. We should go.” Charles pants but Pierre seems to not be understanding it yet so Charles takes a deep breath to steady himself and takes another step forward. “Do you remember when we were young? We had the dream, of travelling the world on the boat. We can do it now. We should go.”

king of my heart by @chaesonghwas [fic]

Back on Daniel's yacht, Pierre has some time to think... and stare at Charles' abs, just a little bit.

i'm bound for the heart of the ocean by @duquesademiel [fic]

Pierre is the reason Charles is alive, and for that, he can’t be anything other than incredibly thankful. As much as Charles had always admired the sea, he’d never had the intention of dying surrounded by her. Pierre rescued Charles from a shipwreck and brought him into a life of piracy. It's not what he'd always hoped for, but he finds it definitely has its perks.

I’m Never Gonna Waste My Love On Anyone Else by @espithewarlock

“Pierre, what the hell is this?” “Are you saying no?” “Am I saying…what the fuck…I’m not…you haven’t even asked me a question!” “It doesn’t seem like I need to.”

Day 6 - Montreal

montreal is for lovers by @chaesonghwas [fanmix]

Monza + Montreal embroidery by @gaslybottoms [cross-stitch]

Taller In Another Dimension (Playlist) by @wolfiemcwolferson [playlist]

I wish I could have you in secret by @your-littlesecret [fic]

Charles reminds himself he’s not there on vacation, he’s there on a mission – that he still doesn’t know what it is. So those luxuries don't matter and Pierre- well, he matters but only because they’ll have to work together on this. Or: Charles and Pierre have to pretend, once again, to be in a relationship so they can succeed in the mission. But something is different this time.

my way back (to a life i would choose) by @duquesademiel [fic]

“What did you mean?” “Maybe we should…” “No, no maybes, Pierrot, like ten years ago. What are you saying?” The year is 2032, and Charles and Pierre have a conversation to finish.

Another Window To Break Out by @espithewarlock [fic]

It started out innocently enough. A friend of a friend knew about a job opening and recommended him for the role. One very quick interview and job offer later, and Charles was uprooting his life to move to Montreal. Piercing blue eyes stared back at him on the other side of a firm handshake. “Pierre Gasly, nice to meet you. Welcome to Stroll Engineering and Architecture.”

together in our imitation leathers by @fenesacha [fic]

Charles swears that he's trying to break his streak of dating assholes, honest. Pierre seemed like a nice, respectful young man until he propped his feet up on the dashboard of Charles' Ferrari.

piarles + soulmate timers AU by @singsweetmelodies [fic]

Charles' soulmate timer stops when he is seven years old, and he meets the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

Day 7 - Traditions

It Was Love in a Minute by @espithewarlock [fic]

All Charles wanted was Pierre, sitting across from him at a too-small table, legs tangled together, tucked away in a hidden corner of a cafe.

never coming down with your hand in mine by @duquesademiel and @wolfiemcwolferson [fic]

Pierre, as the oldest of the two, often takes the lead on their firsts. That's their little thing, their tradition of sorts: any big first step in their relationship is taken together, but suggested by Pierre. Except for one. The five times Pierre took the first step, and the one time Charles did.

i watched it begin again by @your-littlesecret [fic]

Pierre feels like it becomes a tradition. Every Friday, Pierre sits with Charles on his favourite table and they work side by side until one of them needs to go home or has something they need to go to or friends that want to do something last minute.

swear to be overdramatic and true by @chaesonghwas [fic]

Charles' birthday is coming up, and Pierre knows exactly how he wants to celebrate their annual tradition.

tied with the same thread (unconditional) by @singsweetmelodies [fic]

Charles sways forward, leaning fractionally into Pierre's touch. He looks… exhausted. Pierre's heart pangs, and he tightens his grip on Charles' hoodie, using it to tug him gently through the door and into Pierre's house. It's not the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last. He and Charles have… something almost like a tradition, for after tough races. They go to each other's places, and no matter how late at night it is, they always unlock their doors for each other. They are each other's confidantes, each other's safe places. They can talk about anything and everything, or they can forget about the rest of the world and just be for a little while.

give me a chance, let me tell you (if i can) by @yukierres [fic]

5+1 times Arthur interrupted them and the one time he didn’t.

a king under your control by @fenesacha [fic]

Charles sees a field of daisies and a crude leather ball, floating unnaturally in the air between them, and then a boat with a rug that stays impossibly dry, and in both, a boy with bright blue eyes and an impish grin. A boy who was present for most of his life, until he left to study music and his world fell apart. So, really, he should've known this would be the gods' answer.

❤️💙

#1016 week 2023 #1016week #event masterpost #1016 week 2023 final round-up #❤️💙

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kendallroydefender · 5 months

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Somewhere only we know - Chapter 11 (Kendall Roy x Reader)

Masterlist

Series summary: You met Kendall when you were six years old. You have spent every summer together and now years later you and him are still just as close.

This story follows Kendall and his best friend through their lives. Will they realize their feelings for each other before it’s too late?

Chapter summary: You get a call that Kendall is about to hold a press conference about the cruises scandal. Afterwards things get hectic but you have a good talk with Rava.

Authors Notes: i am so sorry that I have to make Honey and Naomi dislike each other I swear I love her sm! Thank you for reading 🤍

Wordcount: 3.1K

You’ve been on Paxos with Stewy for the last days and it has been really nice. It’s different with him than with Ken, starting with you and Stewy having different rooms.

But it is nice. You’re sleeping in, having great food and hanging out on the beach. You’re really thankful for Stewy to ask you to come with him. You really needed a break to deal with your feelings for Kendall.

You were meant to meet Stewy at this restaurant for lunch. He said he had to go there a bit earlier, something business related. You didn’t knew that he was meeting Kendall and his father.

Kendall starts insulting Stewy when he says no to the deal, Stewy glances at the time. Kendall’s tantrum couldn’t come at a better time.

You walk down to where the waiter told you he was sitting. You stop in your tracks when you see who’s sitting opposite of Stewy. Kendall and Logan. Kendall’s eyes snap at you, he says your name.

”Ken? What are you doing here?“ you’re really confused.

”We’re meeting for business, why are you here?“ he asks

”Nothing, just taking a little break.“

He furrows his brows as he looks between you and Stewy

”Since when, uh, since when is this a thing?“

”It’s not a thing. I just wasn’t feeling good and Stew asked if I wanted to come.“ you shrug

”It’s no big deal, Ken.“ Stewy says

”Uh-huh.“ he answers, eyeing him suspiciously before he turns towards you

”Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?“

”Kenny, you had so much going on..“ he nods but before he can say more Logan gets up

”Hello Y/n.“

”Hello, Sir.“ you say to the man

”Kendall, we’re leaving now.“ the older man says and Kendall throws you an apologetic look.

”I’ll call you.“ he tells you and you give him a nod and a smile.

Logan tells you goodbye wich you say back.

On the way back to the yacht, where his girlfriend is currently waiting for him, he can’t help but think about how pretty you looked. Sun kissed, relaxed, your summer dress hugging your body perfectly. It’s been too long since he had been on a vacation with you. He misses it.

Stewy notices the way you pick on you food after Kendall and his father left

”Honey, you’ve been doing so good don’t let him ruin this.“

”I’m not.“ you huff and look up to be met with Stewy looking like he’s not believing you

”Shut up, I’m really not.“ you tell him before adding ”He just looked so sad.“

”It’s Kendall, he always looks sad.“ you throw Stewy a deadly look.

”Stewy, I’m not angry at him, we’re not fighting. I’m not going to talk shit about him.“

”Come on, let’s go to the beach.“

The rest of the day is spent reading on a nice lounger and getting more tan in the sun.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s much later when Kendall stares into the water. Naomi’s words linger. ”He loves the broken you“. Kendall thinks about calling you. He knows you would know how to handle this. He could also call Naomi, but he’s afraid either of you two would talk him out of the plan his father has made. But you would be right, he thinks. You would tell him he doesn’t deserve this, no matter what he thinks about himself. God, he misses you at this moment. He decides to text you. He types in a message a few times before locking his phone again. What would he even tell you? Theres no need to worry you. Everything will work out fine. You’re on Paxos anyway, no need to ruin your vacation.

You sit on the couch of your hotel room, watching tv. Stewy wanted to go to some party but you weren’t in the mood. You see a message appear on your phone screen. Roman.

'Can you call me?‘.

You furrow your brows, they should still be on the yacht so why does Roman want to talk to you. You two don’t speak often anymore, sometimes there’s texts updating each other on how things are, a fucked up meme or a happy birthday message. So Roman wanting to speak to you while they’re on some weird family trip does make some alarm go off in you. You take a deep breath and press the green button to call.

”Hey, Rome what’s up?“ you ask cautiously ”Uh, hey y/n. Yeah so dad made this trip with us to find out who he can blame for Cruises.“ Roman says ”Uh-huh.“ you hum, of course Logan did. Wanting to offer someone as the scapegoat that wasn’t himself was typical. ”And- fuck- Uh, It’s- it’s Kendall.“ you feel your blood run cold. No, it can’t be. ”No, fuck. He can’t-“ you stutter and Roman takes a breath ”Yeah, I thought it would be Karl or even Tom. But- Dad he.. whatever- I’m sorry.“ he says and you shake your head even though he can’t see ”It’s not your fault, Roman. Thank you for telling me.“ you say sincerely. ”So, uh Kendall says he’s okay with it… But he can’t be… right?“ you hear the kid in Romans voice come through. ”I don’t know Roman.“ and you don’t, you know Kendall good enough to know that there’s a big possibility that Logan convinced him somehow that what he’s doing is the right thing.

”Oh how are you holding up? I heard about the hostage situation.“ you ask with a warm tone

”It must have been horrible.“

”Yeah, yeah i felt like I would shit my heart out but I’ve got to see Karl having a panic attack sooo..“

”Great to see you finding the best in every situation.“ you chuckle

”But seriously, you can call me anytime.“

After the call you sit on your couch looking out into the city. You don’t know what to do. How can you help Kendall? Should you call him? Why didn’t he call you?

You stay awake most of the night, thinking about what you can do. Around three in the morning you made up your mind. You get up and throw your clothes into a suitcase before walking over to Stewys suite. Thankfully he seems to be already back.

He answers the door looking like he had been sleeping

”I have to leave.“ You tell him as soon as the door is fully opened

”Did something happen?“ he asks worried

”No, not yet at least.“

He looks confused

”I’m not following.“

”You’ll see. Just- just follow the news.“

He opens the door a little wider

”Come in. And then tell me what is going on.“ you follow him in and sit down on the couch

”Honey, what are you talking about?“

”I just got a call from Roman. Logan is making Kendall the head of the cruises scandal, there’s a press conference scheduled for tomorrow where he is supposed to say that he’s responsible.“ you explain, Stewy is silent for some moments before taking a deep breath

”Oh wow.“

”Yeah. And I- I just want to be there for him.“

”I get that. You should go.“ he tells you.

You get your bags. Stewy goes into the lobby with you giving you a hug goodbye, he will follow the pressconference tomorrow and text you.

”Thank you for this getaway. I really needed it.“

”Anytime.“ he tells you

”Love you Stewy, take care.“

”love you too and you too.“ he waits for a second before adding ”Take care of Kendall too.“

”I will.“ the two of them still caring for each other even when they aren’t talking is so typical.

You get into a car that drives you to the airport where your jet is already waiting. You sleep for a while and when you wake up you’re almost back in New York. You get ready quickly.

In the car you tell your driver the address Roman told you yesterday. It’s the place where the press conference is supposed to take place. You find Jess, Karolina and Greg at the back of the room. Jess gives you a tight lipped smile, "Hey y/n.“ Greg mutters. Your heart breaks when you see Kendall approach the table. He starts to speak and your heart drops, knowing what had been planned. You can’t believe it, you know Logan your whole life but this was too far. But then it all takes a turn, Kendall tells everyone that it was his fathers fault. You’re speechless, you felt so proud of your friend. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.“ Karolina muttered next to you while tapping on her phone rapidly but you can’t help but smile for just a second. Would it mean that a lot of things would change? Definitely. But you are just relieved that he stood up for himself, you don’t want to imagine how the press would had ripped him to shreds over something he didn’t do.

You look at Greg for a second noticing the envelope he clutches to his chest. Kendall finishes his statement with "Today his reign will end.“ and walks off the stage again. You set in motion and quickly follow him through the mass of reporters.

”Excuse me, excuse me.“ you mutter as you make your way through the bodies. He walks through a door, you a few feet behind him. You enter an empty hallway and you yell his name ”Ken!“ he turns around. A look of surprise on his face, not expecting you here. You jog up to him and stop a few feet in front of him and then you rush the last few steps, throwing your arms around his neck. ”I’m so proud of you.“ you whisper into him and you could feel him hold you a little bit tighter. You press a few chaste kisses to his cheek, you two staring into each others eyes for a moment before parting.

”What are you doing here? You- you were just in Greece?“

”I came back last night.“

”Why?“

”Kenny…“ you shake your head, hoping he understands, he does.

He cups your cheek

”Thank you.“

You smile at him as the others catch up with you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ken has locked himself into the bathroom and Greg’s threatening to break in the door to make sure he’s okay. You’re shaking your leg, getting more nervous

”Okay- Greg. Just let me.“ you gesture for the tall man to step aside

”Kenny? Hey can you open the door- or just let me in?“ it’s still silent from the other side of the door until the door opens and he walks out awfully motivated. You watch him with a worried look.

”You okay?“ you ask when it’s just the two of you, the others are already in the other room.

”Yes, of course. Come on we’re going to make history.“ he says before heading off too.

The five of you go downstairs into the waiting car. Kendall is taking your hand in his as he pulls you along with him. You sit next to him. As they plan the new strategies you just sit and listen. You are proud of him for not letting his father do something this cruel to him but you’re not stupid, you know Logan will not just let it be.

Kendall calls Naomi and you play with your fingers, when he tells her he loves her you have to take a shaky inhale. It hurts to hear it.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was mad in Ravas flat. People rushing in and out to talk to Kendall.

You sit in the kitchen with Rava while Kendall talks to different people. She always excepted you as a part of his life, unlike some other girlfriends he had throughout time. "This is insane right?“ she asks as she hands you a mug of coffee. "Thanks, yeah absolutely batshit.“ you answer taking a sip of the hot beverage. "I just hope this won’t kill him.“ you say slowly. Rava nods "I get what you mean. Don’t let it take you with it, okay?“ she looks at you seriously "I know you love him, I do too but you need to take care of yourself too, okay?“ she says and you take in a breath. You don’t want to lie to her but you know whatever would happen you would stay next to him. He is your best friend, the most important person in your life, he had always been there and you couldn’t leave him if you’d wanted to. "Rava I-" you don’t know what you wanted to tell her "I know y/n. I know.“ she gives your hand a squeeze

Kendall comes in to ask if Naomi could come over. After he left Rava turns to you "So… what’s your take on this?“ she asks and you shrug ”I don’t know, I mean she’s nice I guess..it’s just.. I don’t know.“ you answer. "Are you worried about the drugs?“ she says with a look that tells you she is worried herself and you nod before saying "Yeah but I think I’ll always be in some way.“ she gives you an emphatic smile. "I mean she cares about him and he’s happy with her and that should be enough for me to like her but I don’t know I feel like she doesn’t really like me somehow.“ you admit to the brown haired woman. She looks at you as if she’s contemplating something. ”After our break up. Me and Kens. I’ve noticed something and I want you to know that im totally fine with it, but you two did seemed closer and it seemed like there was something there… between you.“

”It wasn’t always-" you start wanting to tell her that you weren’t jealous and in love with him the whole time they were married. The feelings just came back the last year. ”Oh, I know. Don’t worry.“ she tells you with a kind smile. ”I also know that he loved me. But I can see the way you two look each other the past months. It’s okay, I want you to be happy and him too.“ you look at her your mouth slightly agape. ”I don’t know what to say.“ you admit and she gives your hand a squeeze ”You don’t have to. I just want you to know that I’m happy for you if it happens.“

”Even if, it doesn’t matter anymore, he’s with her.“ Rava gives you a 'come on‘ look before she says ”We both know it’s not going to last forever.“

”But he doesn’t like me this way.“ you look at the table in front of you. It feels good being able to talk to someone about how you feel.

”Well he’s an idiot. But we all knew that. I think he’s just, I don’t know manic? Maybe running away from how he really feels.“ she tells you, you look at her and she gives your hand a squeeze across from the table. ”Y/n I love you, you know that. You’re my friend. The right time will come.“

”Sooo, what about you? seeing anyone?.“ you ask with a knowing look

”Well, there might be someone I’m kind of seeing, but I don’t know.“ you squeal

”Tell me all about him!“

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Berry Schneider and Comfrey arrive and you watch Greg make very awkward small talk with the blonde. She catches your eyes and you shrug apologetic with a grin. Naomi comes over and that’s a whole thing after she tells Greg to open a bottle of wine that Ravas godfather gave her.

You eat dinner with Rava, Sophie and Iverson and it’s good to catch up with them. They have grown up so much. After the kids go to bed you feel like it’s time for you to leave, even though Rava offered you one of the guest rooms. You walk into the living room.

”Kenny? I don’t want to disturb but I think I’ll go home now.“ he stands up from where he’s sitting with his girlfriend. ”You don’t have to leave, there’s room for you.“ Kendall tries but you shake your head a little. ”I have work tomorrow and no stuff here. But I can come back tomorrow afternoon?“

”Yeah, that’d be great.“ he tells you and you can tell he’s sincere, that he wants you here.

You two hug goodbye and you tell him ”Call me if you need to talk.“ even though you doubt he will, he has Naomi here.

”I will. Thank you.“

You press a kiss to his cheek before you leave. You nod towards Naomi with a little "Bye“ she waves you.

Rava walks you to the door. ”It’ll all work out.“ she tells you as you hug her goodbye. A sentence that you don’t know will come true when the Roy’s are involved but you have to believe anyway.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next day you walk into the hall when you spot Kendall and a huge horse.

”What the hell is that?“ you ask with a chuckle

”Uh, your boyfriend brought it.“ he says and you furrow your brows

”Huh? What are you talking about?“

”It’s from Stewy.“ he nods his head towards the trojan horse and you roll your eyes.

”Okay. Ken.“ you step closer to him, holding his hands.

”I never had anything with Stewy. And I was never ever in my whole life attracted to him in that way.“ you look into his eyes the whole time. You hope the message gets through to him. You never were attracted to Stewy but you were attracted to Kendall. And he should know that since you’ve slept together back in college.

”Okay?“ you ask

”Okay. Yeah, sorry.“ he says and gives your hand a squeeze.

Jess comes in and Kendall looks towards her

”Shiv is here.“ she says and you snap your head towards Kendall

”Oh?“

”Uh, great let her up.“ he tell Jess

”I guess I’ll leave you to it then. Tell me how that worked out?“

”You don’t have to-“

”No, no it’s fine. Just wanted to see how you’re doing.“

You give him a hug and a kiss to his cheek.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You’ve read the letter Shiv published. You felt sick the whole time. You should be less surprised by everything with the Roys but you still find it unbelievable.

You’ve tried to call Ken but he didn’t pick up and didn’t answer your message.

He had a tv show scheduled for today, wich was cancelled last minute. The host was pretty rough on him afterwards.

Meanwhile Kendall’s staring at Naomi. She’s sleeping and he should feel comforted by her presence but he can’t help but wish he was with you right now. Curled up next to you, feeling your warmth and your soft skin. He takes his phone and opens your message

'Read the letter. Seriously fuck Shiv!‘

'Call me if you want to talk. Love you.'

He wipes a tear from his eye before he types a message to you

'It’s whatever. Love you too.'

#kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #kendall roy fic #kendall roy fluff

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podklb · 1 year

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Nate-Centric Fic Recs: Part 1 (Gen)

This is my first post in ages, because I have decided I have something of value to contribute! And that is my knowledge of excellent fics about Nathan Shelley. I love pretty much all the characters on Ted Lasso, but Nate is my favorite, I’ve got a bit of a mental collection of great Nate fics, so I thought I’d type it out and share it with the world.

When I started to write this out, I realized that I have too many recs for a single post, so this one is just for gen fic, and shipfic will be in a separate post.

Nathan Shelley Gen Fic Recs

do you believe in ghosts? by @atlanticsea, ~2.5k. A character study of Nate’s journey through S1 and S2, gorgeously written with a very cool ghost metaphor woven throughout.

talk about me, make it all about you by @ohlafraise, ~1K. Nate and Jamie run into each other in S3. This fic is thoughtful, funny, insightful, and deeply satisfying, all in under 1000 words!

he can’t play it any faster when he plays the blues by @thatsparrow, ~3.5K. Rupert takes Nate out for drinks after work. This has a fantastic Nate POV that lets him be complicated about Ted and Beard and Rupert and beautifully explores all of his layers of feelings on top of feelings throughout the evening.

I Knew I Was Right (I Learned I Was Wrong) by @fandomfrolics, ~6.5K. After Nate leaves West Ham, Rebecca invites him to spend several days on her yacht. Beard tags along. The connections Nate has with both Beard and Rebecca and the way they unpack their past hurts and slowly begin to move to a different place than they started from is fascinating. This story understands all three characters extremely well.

Kitman, Backup, Wonderkid by @bisexualshakespeare, ~.5K. This is actually a filk, which means a fannish song! I love this type of fanwork and Ted Lasso fandom has very few, but we are very lucky that the ones we have are by bisexualshakespeare, who is one of the best filk lyricists I've ever encountered. This song is to the tune of Loser Geek Whatever from Be More Chill and it's absolutely perfect. Please PLEASE if you check this out, actually listen to the performance of the song, which is emotional and devastating in the best way. The lyrics are a perfect encapsulation of the headspace Nate would have gotten to by the S2 finale, and S3 so far has made it just age better and better. If you are a Nate fan, this is worth the 6 minutes of your time that it will take to listen to it, I promise.

Self-Care Tips for Lonely, Bitter-Hearted Fools by @boglady, ~5.5K. This is a character study of Nate via a bunch of self-care advice that is extremely unhelpful/frustrating/condescending because it doesn't acknowledge or address his actual needs. Kind of like most of the well-meaning advice he gets in canon! This fic is so smart about Nate and about retelling canon moments from his POV. Very formative to me when I first fell in love with this character and was gobbling up every fic I could find about him.

For a Minute There I Lost Myself by @boasamishipper, ~7.5K. Nate muddles through figuring out who he is as a head coach at West Ham. It takes him some time, but it's a beautiful journey, and the West Ham player OCs are well-developed and delightful! I love that this fic is about Nate continuing his journey on his own, that his growth here comes purely from figuring himself out, and he doesn't need the other Ted Lasso characters to do any of that work for him. He's got this!

Can't Take Them Anywhere by @hacash, ~2K. The history of kit man Nate's very detailed and specific list of what to not do with hotel furniture. One of the tags is "potentially the real Nate Shelley villain origin story" and that captures so much of what I love about the fic. It's hilarious and fun! While at the same time there's a real undercurrent of how deeply messed up and unfair it is for all the players to be so immature and self-centered and for Nate to constantly be the one who has to clean up their messes! A delightful romp, but with weight to it. Perfection.

Leave Elegance to the Tailor by TwelveLeagues, ~3.5K. Nate shops for a suit with Ted, then with Keeley, and then with Rupert. Like everything TwelveLeagues writes, this has incredible nuance and character insight in pretty much every sentence. Seeing the way Nate changes over time is painful, and the end is devastating, but there's also hope because throughout the earlier scenes we've seen so thoroughly who Nate is at his core and that he's so much more than the terrible situation he ends up in.

#ted lasso #nate shelley #nathan shelley #fic recs

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alexiavettel · 1 year

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chapter three

pairing: charles leclerc x fem¡stroll!reader

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: kinda toxic!reader, mentions of Charles’ father, overthinking

disclaimer: any photo used is not supposed to represent the reader, are all Pinterest pics that match the context

⇦⇦⇦ previous part

Y/n Stroll POV:

There’s only one week left to the pre-season testing and they want us to go in a yacht and play cute happy couple while we could be training. I tried to fight my father and he just said “You signed the contract, honey. You knew what you were doing”. When I go to another team I promise I’m going to only see this old fucking man at Christmas!

And that’s how I ended up in this situation: sitting alone at the dock waiting for this asshole.

When I was about to go back home the bastard I was waiting for finally arrived.

“Please don’t shout at m-“

“I have waited for you for 45 minutes you asshole! Explain yourself!”

“Okay, first of all stop stomping like a kid” I might look a bit childish but can you blame me? “Second, I had something important to solve”

“What is so fucking important that you couldn’t even take 2 seconds to text me to tell you were going to be late or that you couldn’t come?!”

“I had a meeting with the team about some new updates they are looking for-“ he helped me get in the boat.

“I don’t need to know your bullshit. The fact is that you didn’t care enough to send me a simple fucking text and kept me waiting while I could be doing something better and more important than spending shitty time with you!”

“God okay, I am sorry! Is that what you so desperately want to hear?”

“Fuck you, Leclerc!” I marched to the farthest place from him, which happens to be the front of the yacht.

He can’t understand that I need every single minute I have to practice, obviously he needs it too but it’s so much easier for him, a man, a man in a dominant car specially. It’s so fucking frustrating pushing the car to the maximum and it still doesn’t give you what you want, what you need. And when you lose control what they will blame? The fact that I pushed the car too much until it almost exploded in my hands? Absolutely no. It’s surely because I’m a woman.

“You know Phill, Y/n is an incredible driver but I think sometimes the cars aren’t just made for women. I don’t think they can handle that much pressure, you got me?!”

“Y/n how much of the car Aston Martin had to adapt for your female body?” that’s not even close to the worst one but I would never get those if I were a man.

“Is it harder to drive when you are on your period?” “You have to do the underwear FIA check too?” “Come on, is it hard to handle yourself being around 19 men, right?”

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the boat engine starting. Yes, now I have no way out…

•••

“I bring lunch, you’re coming?” I was just getting my things back inside after putting my bikini on when I heard his hesitant voice.

“Y-Yeah sure” I shouldn’t have screamed at him, he didn’t deserved it. At least not this time.

“We are going to eat outside, all right?” when I finally found him he was shirtless at the kitchen (one of the prettiest I must admit, all clear tones and marble).

“Hmhm” I humm as I helped him with the trays.

“Pretty bikini” I paralysed in the moment I sat down next to the food “What? Am I getting the silence treatment now?! I know I fucked up earlier but I’m sorry okay? I just got caught up in the moment I forgot to call you”

“It wasn’t a silence treatment, I am just shocked that you can actually complement me” I couldn’t and help but let out a scoff “but I’m sorry too, to be honest. I shouldn’t have screamed at you, I got carried away by my disappointment towards somethings that doesn’t involve you specifically. So I shouldn’t have done it…”

“Oh my God, you can actually apologise!” he almost screamed.

“Fuck you, Leclerc”

“Yep, that’s the Y/n I know!” he messed with my hair getting an arm smack in return “Soo we got fruits, salad, loaves of breads, juice, jams and some slices of ham, cheese and salami”

“Oh God! I love salami!”

“Me too! By the way, fancy a swim after? I want to use the new jet skis”

“Yeah why not? But we have to wait a little after eating y’know because-“ I say while doing a sandwich for me.

“Don’t mom me, I know why”

“I don’t mom you!?”

“Whatever you say, darling. Gonna be back in a sec!” and he leaves. After calling me darling with the biggest smirk on his face and with a weird naturally…

“What is that?” I asked after he came back with a pot of something red.

“Cherry jam, I didn’t bring with the rest because-“

“I am allergic to cherries”

“Yeah and I know how you eat everything that’s red, thinking it is strawberries”

“Can you blame me? Strawberry is the best fruit, boy” I can’t help but think why he actually remembers I’m allergic to cherries… Whatever, it’s probably from eating together at restaurants so many times.

“Nah peaches are superior”

•••

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc I’m going to kill you!” I screamed from the top of my lungs as he splashed water all over me with his jet ski after I clearly had told him that I didn’t want to wet my hair.

“Not like you can catch me, darling” he speed away laughing… I want to drown him.

When I got by his side my desire was to crash the fast machine into his but I just took a turn and wet him all. Meeting with his face dropping water, eyebrows frowned but the biggest smile in his face as him try to dry his face. That made me smile.

Then he pointed the boat as a sign to come back. “Last to come to the boat have to do what the other wants for a whole day” I offered him, who wore a wicked smile agreeing with it. There’s no way he could beat me.

He actually could beat me. But only because my jet ski stopped midway, the engine has gone completely off.

“I’m going to help you but with one condition…” he proposed coming at me after seeing I apparently got a problem “I can choose when you’re going to obey me all day”

“You know this is literally your problem right? Your jet ski, not mine. And I’m not going to obey you, I’ll do you favours. But I’m not in the mood to swim my way to the yacht so it’s okay, you can choose when. But that can’t include race stuff” it was part of the challenge since the beginning but I think I forgot to mention it, so points to me!

“Whatever you say, sweetheart” he made me go behind him in his own machine to try to fix it “By the way, I had never seen you in one these how are you fast?”

“Well it’s not too different than bikes, and I am completely in love with my bikes”

“You ride??? You mean like motorcyclettes?” He stopped doing whatever he was doing to look shocked at me.

“Yeah I can show you the pics of my babies when we came back to the boat”

“Babies? Oh dear god! But anyway that would be soon since we are coming back right now, darling!” he needs to stop calling me that...

“How do you fixed it?”

“It’s the battery, I can’t fix it. The man who sold me that one probably didn’t use it in a very long time and didn’t switch the battery to sell it. I am going to call him after, but now you have to sit still here” he explained while tying a rope to connect the two jets.

•

“So yeah that’s it, my babies. They’re probably my most precious possessions” I gave my phone to him see the bikes while we sit together waiting for the sunset, shivering below a sharing blanket.

“I didn’t take you as a bike type… Why your ‘most precious possession’ isn’t a f1 car?”

“I’ve got last year’s, but once I leave Aston Martin I think it will be the only one I’ll keep”

“Are you planning to leave?” apparently the sun doesn’t want to go down, now would be an amazing moment huh?

“Maybe-“

“But then why would you agree with this deal?” He seems anxious…

“I still need a seat this season, ferrari boy”

“Oh…” an awkward silence took place after this and the sun finally started to set down.

“Even the moon it’s here too, so pretty” I said after asking for a pic in the wonderful mix of blue, pink, orange, yellow and purple in the sky.

“My dad used to say that the moon and the sun are a couple and when they’re in the sky at the same time, it's the only moment they can properly see each other and the closest they can ever be”

“My best friend used to tell me a story about how they fell in love with each other, and how the moon always try to hide her feelings from the sun ‘cause she knew they could never work out. But the sun being so shiny, warm and radiant, couldn’t hold himself and tried every single solar eclipse to ask the moon out, even receiving a ‘no’ every time he never took it as a real answer because he knew about moon’s real feelings”

“Your friend is no fun, is a sad story with a sad ending”

“It’s not sad, Leclerc! It’s an analogy of real life situations, sometimes life is sad and we can’t do anything besides watch it burn”

“But they could try! They would still see each other in the sky like now, they would still see the beauty left behind from the other, they could see each other properly in eclipses and all! If the moon really loved the sun she would’ve tried”

“Maybe it’s not that easy. What about the earth in that situation? And they could never touch each other! The sun would burn the moon down and he didn’t even think about that, the sun would be the end of the moon and even knowing that she still loves him… Being all destructive. Sometimes love can be like this”

The silence where this story belongs came to us, in a now dark sky where only the moon could be saw. Two bodies laying down in a boat in the middle of the ocean, looking at the sky and thinking about whole different things.

“But why the sun is a male and the moon a female?” he frowned.

“Me and my mate used to see it like that, the moon passes me this feminine energy”

“Still like my story better”

“You’re a kid who doesn’t understand the complicity of it” I got up and offer him my hand.

“I am not a kid!” He slapped my hand and got up himself

“See, kid’s behaviour”

“You-“

“I’m gonna get dressed and we can come back right?! I believe some people saw us today and we are probably being shipped in twitter”

“Yeah, I’m turning the boat back…”

my taglist!!

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #formula racing #formula 1 #formula one #formula uno #f1 fanfic #f1 #aston martin f1 #ferrari f1 #f1 x reader

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unluckyhoneybee · 2 years

Text

Having Fun (Pierre Gasly)

Pierre's fuck boy era comes to an end when he meets you. Smut+fluff+angst.

Notes: REQUESTED (x) (x)

Warning: +18. Penetrative sex (p in v). Fingering.

His eyes had been on me the whole night. He hadn't doubt when he came to talk to me. He was Pierre Gasly, handsome, charismatic, rich and talented. He had everything. But he seemed to only want me that night.

There had been women hanging from his arm the whole time, all of them trying to get his attention. But no, his eyes were on me.

He was Charles' friend and I was Charlotte's friend. We had seen each other a few times. And we knew a couple of things about the other. I knew about his reputation. He had a long relationship, but that ended a few months ago. And from that moment to this, he had gone through this fuck boy era. Charlotte and I had talked about it a couple of times. About how Pierre seemed to have a girl with him each weekend and how more and more girls had their own stories with him. Bathrooms, the back of a yacht, a boat, his team hospitality, luxury hotel rooms... There had been plenty of scenarios for those stories.

"He is still looking at you?" Charlotte said.

"Mhm"

"You should give him a go"

I looked at my friend as if she had gone mad or something.

"Don't look at me like that. You already said you think he is hot. Go, fuck him and that's it. Have a good night, enjoy. If he is as good as those girls say..."

"Char!"

"What?! You should do it" She shrugged. "It's just sex."

"He is..." I drank from my cup. "I don't like his reputation"

"He is a nice guy, he is just not dealing properly with the break-up. You want to get laid and he obviously wants to give it to you. That's it. Tomorrow you say goodbye and leave."

That's how I ended up having the most mind-blowing sex of my life with Pierre.

"Fuck..." I said pushing my hair out of my face. I was exhausted and I had cum hard.

"You are a goddess, YN..." He said caressing my abdomen and sides. "If I had known this before..."

I sat on the bed and took a deep breath. It has been great. Awesome. But I was going to clean myself and leave.

"Where are you going, cherie?" He said sitting right behind me and kissing my shoulder.

"Home"

"Home? It's 2am."

"Yeah, Pierre. Home."

I would go home, he would stay here and we wouldn't see each other until Charles or Charlotte's birthday. He would keep fucking random people and I would leave and go on with my life with the memory of a fantastic night with him.

"Don't you want to stay?"

"Stay?" I tried not to laugh. "This is just sex. What do you want? To marry me?"

He didn't say anything but looked at me with a glare I wasn't able to read at that moment.

"I thought that we could grab some breakfast tomorrow..."

I laughed this time.

"Pierre, this is just sex, really. I want nothing serious right now" It was a lie. I had been looking for a partner for a while, but I didn't want one with his reputation. I didn't want to date the fuck boy as if I was the main character in some Netflix series.

I left like that, leaving him looking like a lost puppy in the king-size bed.

"Happy birthday!" I hugged Charlotte and kissed her cheek. "YOu are beautiful, Char. Look at you"

"Thank you, YN"

She looked behind me and then at me with an expectant look.

"Oh, Charlotte, he is Nick. Nick, she is Charlotte, the birthday girl"

"Nice to meet you, Charlotte"

"Nice to meet you too, Nick."

Nick was an escape from all the suffocating thoughts I had been having for the last weeks. He was an accountant in his father's business. He was my age and had started working right after uni. He liked to play tennis and he was probably the most ordinary guy in the world. There was nothing interesting in him. Nothing. He was plain. Charlotte had gotten a bit angry at me when I told her about him, saying that I shouldn't date him just to occupy my mind. But I needed to get Pierre out of it. I needed to forget about that night and how his fingers and lips felt on my skin.

"Come with me, guys"

The party was fun, but Nick had decided to keep me at the bar talking about something his father was buying and how big the inversion was.

I drank from the cocktail and looked around, trying to see if Charlotte was close so I could go and dance with her. But no. Instead of finding my friend, I found a pair of angry blue eyes looking at me. I gasped. He was there.

And the moment I notice him, he started walking toward me.

"Nice to see you here, YN" He said with that delicious accent of his.

I clenched my thighs. He looked even better than the last time.

"Yeah... Hi, Pierre."

"I'm Nick Goldman. YN's date. Soon to be boyfriend, right?"

Nick elbowed me and I felt a wave of nausea. Pierre's eyes were on me.

"Oh. I didn't know you were dating someone" Pierre said ignoring Nick's handshake. "I thought you said you wanted nothing serious. You know, when we fucked."

I felt my cheeks getting warmer with anger. Who the fuck did he think he was?

"When you what?" I heard Nick talking directly to me.

Pierre opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped them with a hand on his chest.

"Let's have a talk. In private" By the tone of my voice, both of them knew I wasn't happy.

I grabbed Pierre's arm and pulled him, hearing Nick call for me but completely ignoring him.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I barked at Pierre when we finally got to the terrace.

"Me? What about you?! You said you want nothing serious and then you are dating some guy!"

"Well. I'm sorry for living my life as I want"

"So are so fucking hypocritical" He said walking closer to me.

I gasped. He had no right. Maybe it was true. But it was my life and he could not decide on it.

"How am I? Because I didn't want to stay and have breakfast with you?"

"No! Why did you say that you weren't interested in something serious if you were going to jump into that guy's arms?"

"That was months ago, Pierre!" I ran my hands through my hair and pulled at the roots.

Why the fuck did he care? It's not as if he hadn't been fucking girls all around the world after fucking me.

"And it's none of your business" I said lowering my voice. "You know what? I'm going home. Thank you for fucking up this party, Pierre"

I went back inside and looked for Charlotte.

"I'm leaving. Have a good night, okay? Have a lot of fun."

"What happened?"

"Pierre came and made a whole scene because I'm here with Nick" I sighed " I don't... I'm not comfortable anymore, Char"

"I understand. Do you want Charles to take you home?"

"I will be okay. Enjoy honey, you deserve it"

With a last hug and a knowing look from my friend, I left. Charlotte probably knew that I had these weird feelings about Pierre. She knew me well. But as I said, I didn't want to date Pierre. This feeling would end up fading and this would just be a sour memory.

"I'll take you home, don't go alone"

I turned around. There he was.

"No"

"I owe you that" He was so much calmer than before. "Please. Let me explain"

"There is nothing to explain" I said.

He took a deep breath and looked at me like that again. Like he did on his bed so many months ago. It made me weak on the knees. By then he had only been a wonderful fuck, but now... It was so much more now.

"Okay." I said with a sigh. If he had an explanation I wanted to hear it.

Sitting in his car and on our way to my flat, Pierre stayed silent.

"What did you have to explain?"

"I fell in love with you that night?"

My head turned to him way too fast. I had probably heard wrong. There was no possible way that he had actually said that. No. Not him.

"No"

"What do you mean no?" He said turning to look at me.

"You did not. You can't fall in love in one night. No. Not you"

He sharply pulled the car out of the road and parked on one side. Luckily there was no one around.

"Pierre, what the fuck are you..."

"What do you mean that not me?"

He was serious but not angry. There was a plain look on his face and his blue eyes looked at me with such an intensity that made me feel cold.

"I-I've heard stories."

"Stories?"

"Mhm. About other girls" I took a deep breath. "I don't want to be one more. Although I already am. I... No. I don't want to date you"

I looked away when I saw the pain in his eyes.

"What? You don't want me because I had sex with some other girls? I was just having fun. I was just a single man"

I didn't dare to look at him.

"What had you heard? That I fuck them and leave? That I didn't want strings attached?" He had that tone in his voice. He was angry. Angry at me for what I said. "The same thing you did? Didn't you leave me right behind fucking me?"

I looked at him then. He was right.

"Pierre..."

"Don't ask how or why don't even dare to deny it. But I fell in love with you"

Pierre took my hand. I couldn't stop looking at him. The reputation was still there, but there were also feelings.

"What scares you?"

"I-" I tried to breathe deeply, but only was able to take a shaky breath. "I'm scared of..."

"There wouldn't be anyone else if I had you. I may have slept with some girls, but I'm not that cruel. I'm not that bad. I can promise you that"

"I... I need air"

I opened the door and left the car, he following close. I was confused, I didn't know what to think. I wanted to let him in but I didn't know if I fully trusted him.

"YN?" One of his hands reached for my waist. He looked worried. "Are you okay?"

I looked at him.

"Do you really promise that there would be no one else?"

"Of course I do, YN" He said softly.

I didn't doubt it then, I kissed him. I could give him an opportunity. I could try and see if he was speaking the truth. Charlotte said he was a good guy managing a break-up poorly. And that was months ago. Something may have changed.

He grabbed my hips at the moment, pushing me against his hard body and deepening the kiss. I moaned on his mouth and ran my hands through his hair.

"I wanted to do this since that day" I whispered on his rosy plump lips.

"Me too, cherie. Me too"

We kissed again, more ferociously this time. We were devouring each other's lips with such a passion that took my breath away. Slowly, he manoeuvred me until my ass was against the car. I smiled on his lips feeling the warmth of his body and the cold of the metal hood in contrast. I really wanted this.

He left my lips and started his travel down my neck. It was all sloppy wet kisses on my skin and bites that would leave a mark.

"Mmm Fuck."

Months of waiting finally had their results.

"You taste delicious, baby"

I whimpered and pulled him back to my lips. Between slow kisses, I dragged my hand to his trousers.

"In a hurry, aren't we?" He said smirking over my mouth. "Can't believe you were saying you wanted nothing with me a few minutes ago"

I groaned and looked into his eyes.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you in these months Pierre." I kissed his lips and pulled them with my teeth

"Fuck, YN..." He cupped my face and made me look into his eyes. "Please, believe me when I say that I'm in love with you"

I nodded slowly and he kissed me again.

I took the lead, dragging my tongue between his lips and deepening the kiss. Meanwhile, I had slid my hand on his trousers, palming him over his underwear. He groaned and sucked my tongue.

"Why were you dating that guy? Was he better than me?"

Pierre turned my body around so I was now facing the hood of the car. He was jealous.

"Tell me, cherie. Did he make you feel as good as I did?"

He slowly pushed my skirt up and rubbed his hands over my ass. I was waiting for it, the slap. But it didn't come. He was waiting for my answer.

"I didn't sleep with him" I said turning my face to him. His eyes were darker and he was biting his lip. "I didn't because he wasn't you"

He grabbed my face and kissed me hard. I moaned on his mouth as he pressed his hard member against my ass. He was ready for me and I was more than happy to take him.

"Are we really going to fuck here?" I said over his lips when he pushed my underwear aside.

"Oh yes, we are. Look at how wet you are"

I bit my lip feeling his fingers over my lips.

"Suck them, baby."

I sucked his fingers in my mouth, running my tongue over them and wetting them.

"I love that mouth of yours" He said to my ear.

He pulled his fingers out and took them directly to my pussy, running them up and down before.

"Pierre..."I weakly moaned when he slid those fingers inside. "I need more, I need you to fuck me"

"Have to get you ready for me first"

I was desperate. That night had been the best night in my life and had left a print of me. It had been the fuel to the long nights I spent alone in my bed, thinking of how good Pierre felt and trying to remember every single thing he did to me.

His fingers felt like heaven inside of me, moving in the perfect rhythm and stretching my walls. But as soon as it started, it finished. I whimpered when he pulled them out.

"Desperate, cherie?"

"Mhm."

"Wait..."

I turned to look at him, my mouth watering at the picture. He was standing there, trousers and boxers hanging on his thighs and hands putting the condom on.

"Okay, you ready."

"I am"

Slowly, he dragged the tip over my slit and I stopped breathing as he carefully slid in.

"You feel so fucking good, princess."

I was gasping for air. The stretch felt delicious.

"So-So do you... Please, move..."

"As my princess wish"

Just like the last time, he started moving at a brutal pace, making me shake and unable to stand. Soon he had me pressed to the hood of the car, moaning and whimpering with each thrust.

"I missed this so much, I missed being inside you, baby"

One of his hands was in my waist keeping me in pace and the other was roaming my back.

"Fuck, Pierre" He felt good, so good. I felt stupid for trying to pretend that I didn't want this.

"I know, baby, I know" He was panting and groaning, his hips getting unsteady which every second that passed. "I'm not gonna last much"

With a hand around my neck and the other planted on the car, Pierre brought me to his chest and went harder, making me sob his name and grab into his arm. He was hitting the perfect spots and I could almost see white.

"Oh shit, Pierre..."

I whimpered when he started toying with my clit.

"Does it feel good, baby? Was this what you wanted?"

"Yes, yes. It feels so good Pierre."

It was delicious, the pleasure growing and growing and the knot in my lower belly tighter.

He moved his fingers faster and I grabbed into his hair. Moving my head to the side, I trapped his lips with mine, giving him a heated kiss.

His mouth tasted like glory. I never wanted to stop kissing those pink lips.

Soon, I was on the verge of cumming.

"Pierre..."

"Me too, princess, me too."

It took us a couple of more thrusts to cum, both panting and trying to support ourselves on the car.

"Give me an opportunity" He said kissing the back of my neck.

"Only one. No games"

"No games, I promise."

#pierre gasly #pg #smut #f1 fic #fic

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bobathirstaccount · 11 months

Text

Priceless Ch 2

Boba x fem!reader, slight action/adventure, no smut, bit of fluff, bit of angst

Ch 1

***

“Sexual favors?”

Boba laughed. “I can just fix it for you. Cause you know.”

Smiling shyly, you handed him the broken ship part. You had managed to make it worse with your attempts to fix it. He turned it over in his hands. “Hmm, actually; this might cost you some ‘favors’ after all. What did you do?”

Embarrassed, you shrugged, “Well, I thought I was helping…”

He nudged you, “How about a snuggle?”

You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his torso while he fiddled with it. “Okay, that’s pretty good payment. Now, just put this back where you found it; don’t get clever.”

You smiled to yourself as you took the part. “Thanks… baby.” You skipped off to reinstall the part as Boba waited in the entryway. He was leaving, but not without a proper goodbye.

You calmed yourself and walked back normally. But your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. He tilted his helmet slightly, “What?”  ”Oh, nuthin’ - I’ll miss you,” you came up to him and put your hands on his chest. He nodded, “I’ll miss you too. It’s only a few days, max, though. Vader just needs…. Uh, someone tracked down.” He clammed up.

You narrowed your eyes. “Is it someone from the Rebellion?”  ”…No..” he murmured weakly.

“Fuck, babe, would you come for me if he said so?”  ”That literally would never happen.” He was unmoved.

“You know what I mean. You’re helping him crush us. We’re fighting for something, here, and you’re just going where the money is.”  Boba shrugged, “How did this conversation get so out of hand?”

“Well?”  ”I don’t wanna argue. You know who I am and how I operate. You still okay with it or do you not want me around?”  You started to cry. “I want you around! All the time. With me. With the Rebellion…” you trailed off, realizing you were making a scene and feeling a bit foolish.

He embraced you. “Please, don’t get upset. Just think of it as I’m going away on business. And, I’ll be home soon.”

Sniffling, you decided to let it go and not ruin your goodbye. You hugged him back. After a moment, he stepped away. “I’ll be home soon,” he repeated. Then he was gone.

***  ”Your boyfriend knows you’re part of the Rebellion?” Your fellow Rebel was taken aback. If only you knew the whole story, you thought to yourself. You swirled your iced drink. “Well, he’s trustworthy, so, it’s fine…” you tried to change the subject, “So anyway, you seen the new guy?”

“No. But like. How do you know we can trust him? Didn’t you also say he was a merc? What if the Imperials buy him?”  You swallowed hard. “He has a code of conduct he wouldn’t break,” you said defensively.

“Everyone says that, but for the right price…”  You shrugged dismissively. You deeply regretted mentioning Boba at all. Damn your excitement. He had made things official by renting a hangar big enough for two ships. Your small airspeeder was barely able to squeeze in next to his Firespray, but it was the thought that really mattered.

She continued, “Don’t go around talking about this. It’s kind of a security leak. And! Don’t tell him anything else.” She grabbed your shoulder seriously.

“Okay, I agree,” you mumbled.

She released you. “C’mon, let’s get seated for this meeting. I heard that they have some kind of big news to share.”

Grateful for the change in subject, you followed her to the conference room.

***

“You understand what you have to do?” Your commander was stern.

“Yeah, yeah I get it,” your mouth got dry. You had volunteered for this, but now you were scared.

“Alright; stick with the others and do your part and we just may pull this off.” He grabbed your shoulder, “Keep your head in the game, kiddo.”

You nodded seriously, gulping a bit. Dismissed, you returned to the hangar where your team was gathered. After a bit of small talk and reaffirming everyone understood The Plan, you loaded yourselves into the ship. It was an old yacht, holding the memory of better times. But it was retrofitted with an exceptional hyperdrive, which was what mattered. You sat next to the New Guy, who seemed keen to chat. You smiled and put your headphones on. You needed to focus.

***

Your team made it to orbit around the target planet. Now you would wait until you got the signal. Your data pad pinged. Curious, you checked it. You immediately went to the fresher and reread the message. It was from Boba.

It was essentially about nothing. You smiled. He missed you. You suddenly realized your head was not in the game. You typed a fast reply and went out to sit with your team.

***

“There it is. Let’s go.” The pilot nodded and took the ship off autopilot. The ship tilted downwards and the ground became visible through the cloud cover. It grew larger very quickly. You looked away, starting to get vertigo.

The old yacht leveled out and landed among a stand of trees. The copilot killed the engines immediately. You sat in silence while the comms officer scanned for any sign you’d been detected.

“All clear,” they finally said. You all collectively sighed in relief. You hung back while the away team slipped out the door and into a light fog. You and your partner looked at each other. You closed the ship up. “Now we just watch and wait,” your partner commented, making your situation feel almost normal. But you reminded yourself you were on an Imperial prison planet, tasked with guarding the ship and its crew.

You engaged in small talk with the crew while you fidgeted with your blaster absentmindedly. The away team had 30 minutes. The time ticked by nervewrackingly.

The comms crackled to life. A coded series of beeps came through. “They’re in trouble. Not detected, but stuck in a bad position with guards around.” You all exchange looks. “They’re gonna go over 30 minutes. What do we do?”  You grit your teeth, “We wait.”  ”But, we could get caught…”  ”We all volunteered to be here. Let’s act like it.” You stood and started to pace. “We’ll give them another 15 minutes… we’re here as their escape, we can’t just leave them.”

“Right,” the pilot agreed.

You continued to pace until someone complained. Then you sat and tried to fidget quietly.

***

The comms lit up again with more beep boops. “They’re on their way!”

You opened up the ship and stood outside, waiting to see them emerge from the fog. You heard your partner take up position behind you.

The team appeared quickly, battered and down one member but up one rescued political prisoner. It was a mixed result. You were snapped back into the present by blaster fire, much closer than you would’ve liked. Ushering the team back into the ship, you yelled to the pilot to take off. You closed up the ship as it cleared the tree line. Blaster fire scorched it.

You were thrown to the side. The pilot was going through evasive maneuvers and you weren’t strapped in. You flew around the ship gathering bruises as the ship rocked left to right, then angled upwards abruptly. You dropped your blaster. It clattered away.

Both hands suddenly free, you were able to grab ahold of a ladder rung. You gripped the ladder grimly, holding on for dear life. The old yacht took fire. The deflector shield held. You thought of Boba. Would you see him again? More direct fire hit the ship as it screamed up towards space and a hyperdrive jump to safety.

Focused on holding on, you waited to exit the atmosphere. Finally the ship leveled out. But it was still taking fire. The shield had finally failed. You worried about the hyperdrive taking damage. If that happened, it was all over. You heard excited yelling from the cockpit. You hoped it was good excitement.

A huge explosion rocked the ship. The ship went dark momentarily, then the emergency lights turned on. Gravity disappeared. The main life support had gone out. Your heart beat even faster. You let go of the ladder and kicked off it, directing yourself towards the cockpit. When you got there, the mood was tense as the calculation to hyperdrive was being run. More hits scorched the ship. The computer beeped; it was ready. The copilot initiated it and you jumped. You held your breath.

Safety. You were staring at your home base world. It was calm, blue and white, with a few moons quietly orbiting. Your rescued passenger swore up and down out of relief. You sighed in relief yourself; it had been an extremely close call. The ship was very badly damaged.

The comms came to life with overlapping chatter on the emergency channel. Everyone quieted. You squinted out the front of the cockpit. Were those ships coming? They were small dots, but growing larger.

“He’s getting away- I’m on him, just give me another minute - Garra II, come in!” You recognized your ship’s call sign. “We’re in pursuit of a Firespray-31, engage but do not fire! They’ve got hostages!”

“Copy, we’re badly damaged over here with no shields. We can’t engage without risking ourselves and our passenger.  ”This is priority one, he’s got the Commander!”

You gasped. Your mentor and friend, taken by… Imperials? Wait. You replayed what you’d just heard in your mind. Firespray-31? It couldn’t be. Your mouth got dry and you started sweating. Shit. The comms officer got the enemy ship up on the view screen and magnified it. Sure enough, it was a red, green, and gray ship coming towards you. What did you do? Everyone was arguing about how to slow him down.

“Frag mines!” Your passenger exclaimed. Everyone turned towards her. “I.. uh… I think this ship is equipped with them?”  The copilot nodded, “Yeah, it is retrofitted with those. But we only have 2.”

“We’ll have to make them count.” The mines were quickly deployed by the pilot, who maneuvered the ship in Boba’s way. Your mouth opened slightly. Was he going to shoot at you? His ship grew quite large and veered downwards to avoid your ship and the mines above. The copilot pressed a button and something somewhere on the ship clanged.

“What was that?”  ”Heat seeking missile I remembered we have. Should damage but not destroy the ship.” It was a risky move. You watched through the view screen as the ship angled towards where the sensors said Boba was.

Flack! He had faked out the missile and the sensors and was gone. The comms officer swore as the copilot scanned for Boba and your Commander. Nothing. You sighed in relief, then became frustrated. The Commander was a big part of the Resistance. He was both personally and professionally important to you.

Your badly damaged ship was escorted back to base. The mood was dismal, but your team’s relative success bolstered it a bit. You debriefed, then headed back to your home planet, a few systems away. Landing in the hangar you and Boba shared, your mind stewed on what you were going to do now.

Boba had found and taken your boss. Did he use you to get the location? Your stomach flip flopped. Surely, he had no need to even think about doing something like that, right? And, should you use him to learn the location he’d taken your Commander to? You might be able to trick it out of him if you were clever enough. But… you didn’t want to do that. But did you have the obligation to?

You went in circles in your mind until you nearly felt dizzy. You decided sleep was in order. You checked your data pad for anything from Boba. You deleted a message from your ex. Nothing from Boba. Sighing, you laid down to sleep. It did not come easily.

***

“I didn’t know he was your Commander. Just a Commander.” Boba put his hands up. You were interrogating him about how he’d found your Commander.

You sighed, “Okay, I believe you.”

“No offense, but I am a professional. And, I have standards.”

“I know, I know… it’s just, when I saw your ship coming towards us, well, it was so crazy to see that…” you wrung your hands. You wanted to ask about the whereabouts of your Commander. If he was okay.

“What. What do you mean, ‘when you saw my ship coming towards you?’” Boba sounded put out. “You were on that old yacht?? Who put you on that horrendous thing; dank ferrick I could’ve blown you out of existence!” He grabbed your upper arms.

You squirmed out of his grasp. “Well, if we had better ships and more experienced pilots…” you started defensively. Boba sighed. You stopped, not wanting to fight more. You stepped back into his embrace, “Sorry. Let’s not fight anymore. I just wanna be happy that you’re back home and we get to hang out.”

“Okay,” Boba said easily, hugging you securely. After a moment, he asked, “Dinner?”

“Sure, I’m hungry.” You kissed his helmet.

“Hmm, more kisses without the helmet later.” He turned and pulled you with him gently. The two of you went off to eat. But in the back of your mind, you worried.

#boba x reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett fic #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fluff #star wars x reader #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars reader insert #reader insert

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stevesorgasmicriffs · 2 months

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early one school morning, i met my friend bailey by my locker.

i actually knew him through his older sister, blaire, who was my brother’s age. she ran a daycare inside her own home that my little sister went to. and i would always see bailey there whenever i picked her up after school. bailey was a year younger than me, and blaire was a year older than owen, but it didn’t matter.

“sorry i probably smell like a daycare center,” he joked as we embraced.

“all good,” i laughed. “you excited? or more nervous?”

“i guess both?” he shrugged. “i have a good track record of learning layouts of buildings pretty quickly, so considering how small this school is, this is gonna be a cinch.”

“i can help you, you know. that’s what i’m here for.”

bailey chuckled slightly. “i’m fine, riley, i promise.”

“whatever you say,” i rolled my eyes and smirked at him.

then i pulled out my phone and showed him my lockscreen of me and my friends at the pool.

“so these are my friends ava and harper. they’re identical twins.”

“twins, huh? so like… were they born prematurely?” bailey inquired.

i nodded. “yeah, a bit, maybe like a couple weeks.”

“do they have any other siblings?”

i shook my head.

“you know, i was born seven weeks premature. she told me.”

“you sound pretty proud of it,” i laughed. “but so was owen. well, he was only two weeks, actually.”

then i looked back to my phone.

“anyway, these are the girls we’re meeting right before class starts,” i told him, pointing to each. “the girl on the left is ava, she’s the pretty one, but also super obnoxious. and the girl on the right is harper…”

“huh, that’s funny you think that,” bailey mused.

“what do you mean?”

“well, you’ve showed them to me before i think.” he pointed to harper. “and i always thought she was the pretty one.”

my eyes widened slightly. “oh,” i chuckled nervously. “even though she’s got glasses and braces on?”

bailey nodded, smiling. “yeah. why should it matter how you look? i bet she’s got a cute voice, cute laugh,” he pointed to the picture again. “she already has a cute smile.”

“she’s also the shyer of the two,” i noted.

“i see,” bailey nodded slowly. “that’s okay, i’m shy too.”

“you are not shy,” i rolled my eyes.

suddenly ava and harper strolled up to us with their book bags in tow.

“and speaking of not shy…” i murmured.

“hey,” ava immediately turned to bailey, pointing a finger at him. “how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“oh, i’m new here,” bailey explained. “you see, i was homeschooled all my life before my mom moved to ireland. so ever since last summer, i’ve been staying at my older sister’s.”

“nice,” harper smiled at him. “it’s nice to meet you.”

“yeah, you too!” he smiled and shook her hand.

ava immediately went to shake his hand as well.

“and nice to meet you too,” bailey smiled at her. “i heard you two were twins.” he pointed at them both.

“yeah,” ava rolled her eyes and folded her arms, “unfortunately.”

“oh come on,” bailey chuckled, “i don’t see it as a bad thing. you both seem nice.”

“ava is not nice,” harper mumbled, sticking a hand on her hip and flashing her sister a glare.

ava responded simply by sticking her tongue out at her.

“yep,” bailey laughed, “you two definitely are sisters.”

“we know,” ava rolled her eyes again. “anyway, what are you like? tell us a bit about yourself.”

“well, my parents are divorced, but they still keep in touch. they’re still friends.”

“love that,” ava interjected.

“my mom moved to ireland, my dad moved near a golf club, he now has a girlfriend named erica. my owns a yacht. and he’s an orthopedic surgeon. oh, and he also plays golf, obviously. both he and the girlfriend, actually.”

“love that,” ava interjected again.

“does your mom have a boyfriend?” harper asked.

“no, she’s done being married,” bailey laughed. “erica, my dad’s new woman, literally went to school with my sister blaire. she was a senior when blaire was a freshman. oh, yeah, and blaire runs a daycare in her house, where i live now. it’s called lossa love daycare. cause that’s our last name, lossa.”

“creative!” ava remarked. “i love that.”

“you love everything,” i shook my head and rolled my eyes at her.

“are you single?” ava asked bailey.

“well, it’s funny you say that, cause there’s this cute little girl at my sister’s daycare who likes to bring me flowers during her outside playtime,” bailey chuckled. “it’s actually her sister’s best friend,” bailey pointed at me with his thumb. “so i’m starting to think that i might be her boyfriend.”

“aww, darcie,” i couldn’t help but grin wide, nodding slightly. “yeah, she’s sweet.”

“that doesn’t count,” ava replied snarkily.

“i’m sorry about her,” harper said to bailey, before mouthing, “she can be a mess.”

“i saw that,” ava rolled her eyes at her sister.”

“all good, no worries,” bailey chuckled. “but in actuality, no, i’m single.”

then he pulled out his phone and showed us a picture of him and his sister.

“so that’s blaire, the one with the sunglasses,” he pointed.

“i thought she had a pixie cut?” i inquired, glancing over his shoulder.

bailey shook his head. “she did, but then she decided to grow it out.”

“wait, is she single?” ava asked.

bailey nodded. “yeah, and proud to be. fun fact, she used to be a lesbian. but it took three toxic relationships and one toxic situationship to make her commit to the single life. but she’s open to maybe having a male friend or two in her life. she’s down for that.”

“does she know her brother?” ava pointed at me. “he’s a teacher here.”

“yes, i know that,” bailey chuckled. “they have met, and she says he’s nice. that’s all i know.”

then he pulled out his schedule and took a glance at it.

“what’s your first class?” i asked him.

“science with patricia goldstein,” he read from the paper.

“oh, i’m in that class!” ava beamed proudly. “but in the afternoon. i’m like her favorite student, not to brag.”

“you have a solid c in that class,” i rolled my eyes.

“c for crazy good, right?” ava nudged me and winked.

“yeah, sure, whatever you wanna believe.” i thought for a moment. “let’s meet back here right before lunch, then we can all walk to the cafeteria together.”

“sounds like a plan,” bailey agreed, glancing at his watch. “well, i guess i better be off.”

“my class is down the hall from goldstein’s,” harper explained to him. “i’ll show you where to go.”

“it was nice to meet you ava!” bailey said before he departed us.

we waved goodbye to each other as i mouthed “text me” to him. he flashed a thumbs up and he and harper went on their way.

•

“you okay?” i asked harper as we continued walking down the long and narrow corridor. we’d been walking for a bit, not really saying anything other than the idle small talk here and there. “you haven’t really said much this whole time.”

“oh,” she had a quiet voice when she talked, much quieter and softer than her sister’s. “yeah, it’s just… i just…” she sighed, stopped in her tracks and worriedly looked around, breathing out a small sigh of relief.

“what? what is it?” i stopped with her.

she sighed a bit heavier this time. “i have this… insecurity…”

“oh?” i furrowed my brow. “i mean, uh, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. i don’t wish to make you feel uncomfortable in any way…”

“no, no, it’s okay, i’ll tell you.” harper rubbed her arm with her other hand, shifting a bit in her feet. “it’s my smile.” she looked at me as if she was expecting me to react in some way, but i kept on listening.

“i know it sounds pathetic, but, like… look at me.” she gestured around her face. “i mean,” she laughed it off, “who would even want to look at my smile? it’s like i’ve got this stupid metal scaffolding all over it.” she shook her head, looking away slightly.

“well,” i smiled a bit, “the way i see it, the metal scaffolding on the facade of a building signifies a work in progress. or better yet, a restoration. so it’s going to become something bigger and better. and that’s what braces do, right? they make your smile appear straighter, and cleaner, and… i guess more perfect?”

“well… yeah… i mean, i guess…” she rubbed her arm again, something that used to be a nervous tendency of mine.

i thought for a moment. “when do you get them off?”

“next year, sometime in the spring.”

“right when the snow melts,” i mused, nodding a bit. “that’ll be fitting i think. the curse of winter will be over right when the curse of the braces will be for you.”

“huh,” harper chuckled, “that’s a neat way to look at it.” she pointed at me, “but you’re absolutely right, they are a curse. they make me look less beautiful.”

“who ever said braces made you look less beautiful?” i asked.

“i… i dunno…” she shrugged, taking her glasses off.

“glasses too,” i pointed. “living a life in shame just because of how you look shouldn’t be how you live, at least, i don’t think. plus, it makes you easy to tell apart from your sister.”

“yeah, true,” harper smiled slightly. “but… everyone says that she’s the pretty one, and i’ve always tried to be like her…”

“seriously?” i laughed. “you’re identical twins! you’re pretty much stuck looking like her.”

“well, i can’t see as clearly as her, that’s why i have the glasses.” harper pointed to them. “we’re already pretty different. she talks louder. maybe i should talk louder, so the teachers can hear…”

“i can hear you just fine,” i calmly said with a smile. “you sound great to me. have you ever considered that ava’s voice is perhaps a bit too loud, and that you talk normally?”

“n-no…” she stammered. “i guess not.”

“i think you talk fine.” i tried to sound as reassuring as i could. “bottom line is, you shouldn’t set yourself up comparing yourself to people you think are better than you. it won’t get you anywhere.”

“y-yeah. you… you’re right. i’m sorry…”

“no, no!” i gently put a hand on her shoulder. “don’t apologize. these are just facts of life that i learned early on. it’s great that i can tell you about them. cause in the long run, you’ll feel so much better about yourself, and you’ll thank me for telling you all this.”

harper thought for a moment, looking off to the side before her eyes flashed back to me. “so you really think my smile looks pretty?” she giggled slightly.

“i think everything about you looks pretty,” i said to her affirmatively, squeezing her shoulder slightly. “especially your smile. it looks beautiful. beautiful enough for me to kiss, maybe.” i winked at her.

her cheeks instantly flashed a bright red, and she covered up part of her face with her hand. “i- i’m sorry,” she whispered, lowering her hand gradually. “i… i don’t know what just… what i did just now…”

“you’re all good,” i chuckled. “sorry, should’ve clarified that some of what i say is very lighthearted. so i wasn’t being serious when i said that.” i smirked. “or was i?”

harper laughed and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me a bit. “you’re great,” she told me as she backed away, blushing slightly as a look of realization came over her face. “sorry,” she chuckled softly, “i’m a bit of a hugger, i couldn’t help myself.”

“oh, so am i, i don’t mind.” naturally, i wanted to return the favor, so i wrapped my arms around her a bit more gently.

“oh, you’re so better than me, i’m jealous!” her smile grew slightly. “and they actually feel quite warm.”

suddenly the bell rang, and realizing what this meant, harper flashed a glance at me sadly as i let go of her.

“aw, don’t go,” she frowned.

“we’ll see each other again,” i reassured her, taking her hand in both of mine before releasing it and opening up my arms for her. “here, one last one for good luck.”

and as i wrapped my arms around her, i felt her head nestle in right where my heart was. and it felt super comfortable.

i looked down at her with a smile that i just couldn’t wipe from my face. i could get used to this. to her. to this feeling.

right before we parted ways, we exchanged phone numbers.

•

during my lunch break that afternoon, i decided to head over to the nurse’s office to complete my site change.

as a diabetic, you had to change the site of your glucose monitor and your insulin pump that was attached to your body.

having those tiny contraptions hooked onto you was a hell of a lot easier than having to manually test your blood sugar and inject insulin via needle.

then again, it was still a needle going into to your body.

“hi nurse kate,” i greeted the nurse with a simple smile and wave.

she smiled and waved back, and i looked around the room to where i could find an empty seat.

sure enough, there was one located next to a young girl who was testing her blood sugar by finger prick. although, i could see her shirt pulled up, and on her waist she had a pump that looked nearly identical to mine.

i sat down next to her, and she immediately turned to me, smiling.

“hi, i’m victoria,” she said, sticking out the hand that didn’t have the prick mark on it.

“hi viktoria,” i said, shaking it. “nice to meet you.”

then her eyes travelled down to my pump, and she gasped slightly.

“we have the same model!” she exclaimed, pointing at it. “how cool!”

i laughed. “yeah, you’re a diabetic too i guess.”

“i really like this model.” she pinched hers with her thumb and forefinger and turned it towards me to show me. “it’s not as painful as some of the other pumps out on the market.”

“yeah,” i nodded, “it’s incredibly painless.”

“plus, they stick to you even better.” her eyes travelled up to my face. “i feel like i’ve seen you before,” she flashed a lighthearted skeptical glance at me, pointing. “aren’t you a teacher here?”

“yeah, that i am.” i began to change my own sites, glancing over at her once or twice in the process. “so you manually check your sugar?”

“yeah,” she nodded. “i didn’t have the best experience with my cgm, it kept falling off and… i stepped on it once, and the needle went into my foot,” she shivered slightly.

“ouch,” i chuckled. “hopefully you got a tetnis shot.”

she nodded. “i was five when that happened. then i got the diabetes a year later.”

“so you were diagnosed when you were six?” i asked.

she nodded, now putting her medical kit away and pulling a lunchbox out from underneath her chair. “i eat lunch here,” she quickly explained, gesturing to her lunchbox. “i have no friends,” she chuckled nervously.

“no friends?” that made me sad for some reason.

“what, i mean, when were you diagnosed?” viktoria quickly asked me, probably to redirect the subject.

“i was eighteen,” i explained.

“that must have felt weird for you.”

i shrugged. “yeah, a little. but i conform quickly.”

we were both silent for a minute.

“what do you teach?” viktoria then asked.

“ap calculus.”

“oh,” she laughed, “i don’t think i’m in your class.”

“yeah, i don’t think so either,” i shook my head, smiling a bit. “i don’t remember seeing you on my roster.

“what is calculus anyway? does that have anything to do with calculators?”

“well, we use them a lot, for sure. we use graphing calculators, i’m not sure if your math class has those.”

“oh, i’m not in math.” i could see viktoria blush a little bit, perhaps out of embarrassment. “i’m not very good at it.”

“not everyone is,” i told her. “and that’s okay if you aren’t.”

“but…” viktoria thought again, “i’d love to help you out in some way. you seem nice.”

“aw, thank you,” i smiled at her. i had wanted to say right then, “so do you.” but i didn’t.

“are there any opportunities that you, uh, that you offer?”

“well,” i explained, “i do have a slot open next semester for an intern. all you’d really be doing is grading papers.”

an expression of worry instantly flashed in viktoria’s eyes. “so does that mean i have to learn math? and like, become good at it?” i could sense total panic in her voice.

“no, no,” i laughed, “you’d have an answer key to look at.”

“phew, that’s a relief,” she sighed out.

“yeah, and…” now i had to think. “this might be beneficial for you actually, there is an after school program that is offered for any math student that just needs extra help. they’re looking for tutors there as well. i don’t run it, though. so you could either apply to help out, or apply to be helped out. but slots do fill up fast, so i recommend getting on it as soon as you’re able.”

“yeah, i think i’d rather learn how to grade papers than learn math,” she chuckled nervously. “no offense.”

“none taken,” i waved it off. “yeah, i figured the tutoring thing probably wouldn’t apply to you. but you might like being tutored by someone.”

“could you tutor me?” viktoria inquired, laughing it off (she was probably not being serious at all about it).

“so i don’t stay after school to help out, unfortunately. i have so many other things to do that occupy too much of my time.” i looked over to her, sort of shrugging in defeat. “sorry.”

“that’s okay,” she smiled, “i didn’t really mean it.”

“yeah, i know,” i laughed. “you really detest it, huh?”

“uh huh,” she nodded, pursing her lips.

then she whipped out her phone and showed me her lockscreen. “this is what i do like.” she pointed to the picture. “that’s my pet rabbit, dottie. i’ve had her for ten years. she poops everywhere.”

“aw, she’s cute,” i smiled. “my sister has three pet rabbits that she looks after. and she’s really good at taking care of them.”

“you have a sister?” viktoria asked.

“sure do,” i nodded. “actually, i have two. i have a younger sister, riley, and a miniature sister named starla.”

“miniature?” viktoria inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“well, i like to call her that. i think it’s just a me thing, i don’t know. but yeah, she’s four, a real sweetheart.” i turned to her. “what about you? do you have any siblings?”

“nope, only child. how old is riley?” viktoria asked.

“she goes here, she’s seventeen,” i replied.

“so you’re the oldest.”

“mmhm.” i nodded again.

“i think riley’s in my gym class— oh, wait, no, i’m thinking of a different riley, never mind.”

“yeah, riley doesn’t take gym. she’s like you with math— doesn’t like it one bit.”

“gym is okay,” viktoria remarked. “english is good, history all we do is watch videos and take notes, biology is boring… oh, and my elective is this art and music integration class. that’s really boring,” she laughed. “i have to write a ten page paper by the end of the month.” she pouted. “that’s no fun.”

“okay, you wanna know what i despised when i went to school?” i asked, pointing at myself. “writing papers. in any class. it wasn’t like i sucked at writing in any way, but it was so laborious and such a chore for me. i would always zone out after i’d written like a page. i just, didn’t, like it.” i made sure to emphasize each word in that last sentence. “and when i went for my masters in teaching, i had to write a paper that was about sixteen pages long. and trust me. the last thing you want to be doing at the eleventh hour is cramming in a sixteen page paper.”

“oh my gosh!” viktoria laughed out loud, “so, like, you procrastinate too?”

“i used to be really bad,” i chuckled. “like, it’s a miracle i’m actually here teaching people, and not back up at uni retaking five to six courses adolescent psychology courses.”

viktoria thought for a moment. “i want to major in history, and become one of those tour guides that leads one of those tours around those ancient historical buildings.”

“oh, that sounds super fun,” i smiled. “you like to be a talker, i can tell, so the job would suit you.”

“it would?” there was a glimmer of eagerness in viktoria’s eyes, it was kind of cute to see, actually.

“sure! and you’ve got the enthusiasm to boot. you’d be perfect.”

viktoria giggled slightly. “i could be a tour guide who makes everyone take a test at the end of the tour, and then i could grade the papers.”

“there you go!” i said. “looks like you got your work cut out for you.”

“i do,” she beamed.

suddenly the bell rang, and i had to get back to class.

“well, it was nice meeting you, viktoria.”

“you can call me tori if you’d like,” she said, getting up out of her chair and throwing away her trash into a nearby trashcan.

“okay tori,” i smiled, patting her back slightly when she came back. “it was nice meeting you. good luck with your tour guide business, and your diabetes management. it can be tough to juggle sometimes. but i’m confident you know what to do, maybe even better than me.” i winked at her.

“thanks,” she giggled, blushing slightly.

and as i exited the nurse’s office, i had two takeaways etched in my mind:

1. she had an infectious personality,

and 2. she looked like she was beginning to develop a crush on me.

•

one day, we were going on a small road trip, and naturally, owen was in charge of waking me up.

“ri. ri ri. ri. ri ri.” i felt incessant poking and prodding by a grown-up finger while i was peacefully asleep in bed.

i shuddered and the touch and turned over to my other side, towards where i could hear the voice coming from.

i sleepily blinked my eyes open. “what.” i muttered through my teeth, squinting at him, probably sounding more irritated and agitated than i meant to.

“we’re leaving in ten minutes,” owen tapped his wrist where the face of a watch would be. “you gotta get starla, i still need to finish packing.”

“because you procrastinated and forgot last night?” i asked, sitting up in bed now.

“don’t call me out like that,” he laughed. “but, uh, yes, that’s the reason. now go,” he casually tapped my bum, “mom and dad are waiting.”

so i got out of bed and went across the hall to starla’s bedroom.

the thing with starla was, she was extremely quiet, even for a four year old. she barely spoke a word. mom was working on getting her some in-home speech therapy. but she had her ways of communicating to us.

normally, when i walked in, she would be hiding under the bed, because she would often think that owen was coming in instead of me.

i noticed her teddy bear wedges in between the two plumped up pillows at the head of the bed.

what i would do is i would sit down on her bed, take the teddy, and sort of wiggle it on the floor right beside the bed to get her attention. and then when i could see her two tiny hands take it, i’d still be holding onto the bear and i would pull her right out from under there. and then she would see that i was on the other end. and she would be happy.

i learned that trick from owen, actually, cause that’s what he used to do with me.

right as i was about to look under there, though, i felt a tiny person wrap their arms around one of my legs from behind.

i smiled and spun around.

“there you are!” i bent down and rubbed the top of her head. “you excited for our little trip?”

she nodded, wanting to grab my hand.

so i took it and lifted her up on the bed, sitting down next to her.

“you wanna play on my phone while we’re on the road?” i asked.

she nodded again.

i echoed her smile. i liked seeing her happy like that.

i quickly opened it up, cleared out all my text notifications and put ava’s test notifs on mute. sometimes she used some really choice language.

a photo memory popped up on my phone, and i tapped on it, holding the phone so starla could see.

“who’s that smelly weirdo?” i asked, pointing to the guy on the far end with the swim trunks, chiseled abs and sunglasses. it had been a beach holiday.

starla giggled and pointed to the room across the hall that had the door shut, which was owen’s room.

i moved my finger to the girl next to him.

“who’s that even bigger weirdo?” i asked.

starla giggled again and squeezed my hand, which she was still holding onto.

i smiled and nodded approvingly, rubbing her head again. “that’s right, smart girl!”

suddenly we could hear mom yelling for everyone to start clearing out of the house.

“alright,” i sighed, “time to go.” i stuffed my phone into my pocket and carried starla out, the two of us heading to the car. it was only when mom got the car seat situated and starla loaded into it that i handed her my phone.

luckily i had plenty of games loaded on there that i played myself that she could take advantage of.

when i could see her eyes starting to close, i knew that meant she was getting tired, so i tapped her hand that was holding my phone.

“here, you need to sleep now,” i told her gently.

she let me take the phone back and before i knew it, she was passed out cold.

with the car seat wedged in between us, my eyes travelled over to owen, who seemed particularly engrossed in his own phone.

“who are you texting?” i asked, glancing over his shoulder from afar.

he wouldn’t say, but the name read “viktoria.”

“ooh, who’s viktoria?” i asked teasingly, tapping his forearm with my fist.

“she’s your grade,” owen replied deadpanned, not bothering to look up from his phone.

that caught my attention. was it… was it legal to text someone underage?

“my grade as in, she’s 17?” i asked.

he shook his head. “just turned 18.”

that’s when i realized something else.

“the viktoria you’re texting… it doesn’t happen to be viktoria spunaldi, does it?” i asked.

owen nodded. “it is, why?”

i sucked air in through my teeth. “ava absolutely despises her. as it, she hates her guts.”

“oh?” owen flashed me an inquisitive look.

“yeah, she and ava used to be best friends. like, they were inseparable. and then, back in middle school, they got into this huge fight, one that all the kids talked about for days on end… and they haven’t spoken to each other since.”

owen chuckled. “sounds like a lot of petty teenage girly girl drama to me.”

“oh, it was, trust me. harp and i stayed out of it as much as we could. ava only attempted to drag me into it once.”

“what was it even about?” owen asked.

“i’ve long since forgotten,” i chuckled. “so has ava probably.”

“i’ll ask viktoria about ava when i see her again,” owen said, setting his phone aside.

i then glanced over to my own phone, where i’d been texting bailey about his newfound relationship with harper.

“it’s funny, whenever we go to get chick-fil-a,” he had texted, “i’ll always get extra pickles on my chicken sandwich cause i’m SUCH a pickle person, and she’ll simply pick her pickles off her sandwich and give them to me.”

“harper never told me she hates pickles,” i’d texted.

“oh, she does, trust me,” bailey texted back. “but she knows just how much i love them, haha.”

that’s how a relationship is supposed to work, isn’t it?

i looked back to owen and saw him smiling down at his phone again, thumbs flying like mad over the lower portion of the screen.

i cocked an eyebrow at him.

“owen.” i tapped his shoulder. “what’s going on between you and tori? like, for real?”

owen shrugged it off, scoffing, “you really wanna know?”

i grabbed his phone and yanked it away from him, all bosslike.

“yeah,” i probably sounded more serious than ever before, “i do.”

•

“can i come in?”

the voice sounded soft, quiet, and subdued. still, it was enough to pique my attention.

it was after school, and i’d been sitting at my desk grading paperwork when tori had opened the door, looking a bit shy and nervous to step foot inside my classroom.

i looked up and smiled wide when i saw who it was.

“hey tori,” i waved. “yeah, of course, you can come in.”

“okay, thanks,” she blushed slightly as she shut the door behind her, probably embarassed for asking.

i gestured around at all the empty seats. “you can have a seat anywhere, i don’t mind. or stand.” i shrugged. “up to you.”

“it’s okay,” she walked over and took a seat at a desk that was right in front of mine.

“so what’s up?” i asked, clasping my hands together and setting them down on my desk, leaning forward slightly.

tori smiled and waved, giggling slightly. “hi.”

i smiled back. “hi.”

she began to look around my classroom, at all the work that was hung up from my students. she seemed to take it all in admirably, nodding ever so slightly in the process.

“so… this is your classroom?”

i nodded, beaming proudly. “this is my classroom.”

“it’s a nice classroom,” she remarked. “i really like it.”

“thank you,” i smiled back at her, noticing that she was still looking around at everything. “yeah, i try to keep it tidy. but i guess it’s better to have a disorganized classroom than a disorganized mind.”

“yeah,” she laughed slightly, her eyes now shifting to the framed pictures that i had on my desk. “is that your sister?” she pointed to a young girl in one of them.

my eyes followed her finger and i nodded in confirmation. “yeah, that’s riley. oh, gosh, that was a while ago.” i pointed to my mom at the far end. “doesn’t she look good?” i asked tori. “she was nine months pregnant in that photo. wait, no, it was six. still, she looked good, remarkably.”

“how does it feel to have a sister so young?” tori asked me.

i smiled fondly, looking off to the side for some reason. “i love her to death. she’s really sweet. i just wish she loved me more.”

“what did you do?” tori laughed.

i sighed, shrugging in defeat. “i don’t know. she always runs away from me. i think she’s just scared. i am kinda big, in her eyes. and big obviously means intimidating.”

“oh, so that makes you sad.”

“yeah, kinda.” i sighed again, a bit lighter this time. “but i know she’ll grow up and i’ll get smaller to her.”

then tori’s eyes flashed to a picture right next to it, of me and riley at some amusement park place with mini golf and bumper boats. “oh, i see she’s friends with ava.” her remark didn’t sound resentful at all.

“yeah, ri mentioned something about how you and her had a falling out in middle school?”

“yeah,” tori rolled her eyes, “but it was so stupid. i was over it years ago. but ava’s the type to hold these petty ass grudges, and she still hasn’t made up with me. but yeah, it was over this guy, roman clancy, and she was mad that i was into him at the same time that she was, and she got jealous when he was checking me out more, and she thought that i was dating him since we kind of hung out more, but we honestly weren’t. i wasn’t even really into dating back then. and roman had even said to me that he was into me more and that he’d choose me over ava any day.” she sighed. “and the roman moved away the year after, and ava still hasn’t forgiven me. she was definitely jealous.”

“of course,” i muttered, shaking my head.

“what?” tori asked, only because she couldn’t hear me that well.

“uh, nothing never mind.” i chuckled nervously. “that just sounds super petty to me.”

“oh it was and it is, trust me. ava is just… toxic, on all levels. she’s nice and all, but she’s just toxic.” she glanced over to the picture again. “and she and your sister, riley you said? yeah, so they’re like, friends, i guess.”

“yep,” i nodded, “friends since childhood. her and her twin.”

“oh, harper, yeah, i know her,” tori smiled. “she’s super nice. nothing like ava. we’re cool, we text.”

“she got a boyfriend now?” i asked, only because i wanted her to confirm (riley had already told me).

tori shrugged, “haven’t heard anything about that yet.” she thought for a second. “but i probably will soon. she doesn’t always inform me of stuff, we’re not like super close but…”

then she glanced at one more picture, it was of riley and i when we were really young, and her smile returned. “you and riley seem super close. i love that.” she pointed.

“yeah, well, i love all my family, not just riley.” i gestured to another picture of me and my parents, and then to a picture of me and my two sisters taken just last year (riley was holding starla upside down in it to get her to smile).

i couldn’t help but smile slightly, just thinking about them. “my family make me happy. and they keep me happy. riley’s a really good baker, and joke cracker, and her relationship with our mini sister is so precious.”

“did she always want one?” tori asked.

i nodded. “she begged for one when she were little, and our mom would go ‘what? you don’t like the one you have now?’ and she’d grumble and complain ‘but he’s owen, i want someone that’s not owen.’ she was just being funny about it though, i knew deep down that she loved me.”

“and what about your mini sister, star…ry? star something?”

“starla,” i gentle corrected.

“yeah, starla, sorry. what do you like about her?”

“well, i know that with her, because she’s so young, she’s got room for growth and development. but right now she’s a bit on the quiet side. a small thing i notice is when she takes your hand, she doesn’t let go unless you make her. she’s very touch dependent.” i smiled fondly. “and she’s actually super pretty for a four year old.”

tori glanced back to the picture of all of us again. “you must get jealous that riley and her have such a close bond.”

“well, keep in mind that so do riley and i. and it’s kind of hard, really, to have a sibling-like bond with someone who’s twenty years younger than you. i might as well be her dad,” i chuckled slightly.

“but you aren’t.”

“but i’m not, you’re right.” i nodded affirmatively.

there was a small bit of stillness in the room that came with the lull in our dialogue.

that was when i thought of something to say.

“what makes you happy?” i asked.

“music,” she grinned wide. “and dancing. lots of dancing to lots of music.”

“dancing, eh? you like to dance? are you a professional dancer?”

“oh, no, no no no,” she laughed, immediately frantically waving it off, “i could never be a pro. i just dance for fun, in my room.”

“here,” i pulled my phone out from one of the drawers in my desk and opened up my spotify app, “let’s get some music playing.”

“wait what?” a sense of panic flashed in her eyes as she stared at me in pure disbelief.

“what? you said you liked music,” i laughed slightly.

tori frantically looked around, her expression one of panic. “are you sure?” she asked.

“yeah, no worries here, no one’s around, we’re safe.”

“oh, uh, okay.” i picked up a slight nervous inflection in her voice.

“you’re okay,” i smiled reassuringly at her, “just have fun with it.”

now it was my turn to look around.

“here,” i said, getting out of my chair and going over to her with my phone in my hand, “i can let you pick out the song.”

her eyes widened when i showed her my phone, a smile beginning to grow wide. “you have a lot of playlists,” she breathed out in awe.

“riley created some of them for me. she’s more into indie, i’m more into rock and alternative. but there’s one playlist on here that’s like easy listening.” i scrolled down with my thumb to the playlist. “i play this whenever my parents are around.”

“really?” tori laughed. “so you must really like music a lot then, i guess.”

“yeah, sure,” i chuckled.

“do you dance?” tori asked.

“oh, trust me, you would not believe how much of a dad i look when i dance,” i replied deadpanned.

tori laughed again. “now i kinda wanna see you dance.”

i shook my head, laughing slightly to myself as i pressed play on the easy listen playlist. “prepare to be mortified.”

the music started to play, and we began to dance separately, laughing so hard at each other the entire time.

“we could become tiktok famous, i swear,” tori remarked.

“i don’t even do tiktok.” this earned another laugh from her.

we began to use the whole classroom, moving chairs and desks out of the way so we could perform our little routines.

and slowly but surely, as the playlist pressed on, we began to dance a bit closer together, becoming more and more comfortable with each other’s presence, each other’s personality. we began to hold hands and swing to the music, but not for very long, just enough to satisfy a part of a song.

at one point tori stood up on a desk and leapt from one to another several times during one of her dances.

“careful, don’t hurt yourself!” i laughed, seeing her from afar.

she only slipped once when she was tap-dancing on a chair, and luckily i was there to steady her.

she performed one more skit on a desk, and suddenly she said, “here, catch me!” giggling slightly.

i was about a few feet away from that desk, and when she leapt off, i caught her right under her arms, holding her up there for a bit before slowly and gently lowing her, smiling down at her in admiration when her feet touched the floor.

the music faded out, and we were left standing there.

i expected tori to break out into another dance once the music started back up, but the playlist had reached its end, and tori still had her arms wrapped around my middle, nestling her head into my stomach and grinning wider than ever.

i smiled and rubbed her back. “you look happy,” i laughed.

“i’m happy here,” she mumbled into my shirt, before looking back up to me. “it’s you.” she pointed to my face. “i think it’s you. i’m happy when… i’m with you… and you… you make me happy. sorry, did that make sense?” she let go of me and took a step back, blushing slightly, probably embarrassed that she held onto me for that long.

“aw, well, i’m glad i make you happy. you wanna know something? you make me happy too.”

“really?” she looked at me with eagerness in her eyes and excitement in her voice. “you really do, i mean, think so?”

i nodded, loving how thrilled and enthusiastic she could get over the little things i said. “uh huh. you really do.”

suddenly her expression turned into a frown as she looked down at her feet. “but… but why?”

“you know how to have fun,” i told her, taking her hand again. “you love doing what you do. and there’s no shame in that. and you bring out the happiness in me. normally my sister does that. but now i know that you can too.”

“really? aww…” her grin instantly returned and she hopped up and down in her spot, her hands flapping slightly.

i couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“you wanna know something crazy?” tori took a step closer to me. “so, like, i’ve really wanted a boyfriend for like… the longest time. or at least someone who could see my dancing or even like, dance with me? even? like wow, that’s a crazy thought. but… it just sounded silly and stupid in retrospect, or is it hindsight? well, whichever it is. and like, someone who just… likes me for who i am, and hey, maybe even… loves me? like wow, that would be cool. and i’ve always wanted someone who like, wants to get close to me, and touch me, but like, lovingly, i’m sorry if that sounded super weird.” she laughed. “and i’m sorry that was like, a lot.”

“no, no,” i could not stop laughing at her energy, “you’re all good. i love your energy.”

then i sat down at one of the nearby desks that we pushed back into the corner, tori sitting down on top of the desk, knees tucked up.

i took a deep breath in.

“i’ll let you in on something crazy too.” i chuckled slightly. “i’ve been on this planet for twenty-five years. almost twenty six now. and i’ve never been in a relationship before. like, ever.”

tori’s eyes widened at me. “shut up!” she exclaimed. “really?”

“yeahhh,” i nodded slowly. “like… i dunno.” i shrugged. “i guess i was never really like, gung-ho about getting into one. i just thought maybe… maybe it just wasn’t for me. at least that’s how i felt at the time.” i paused for a minute, thinking. “but now… i think i’m ready for one again. careful consideration taken into account, of course.”

“so you have, like, no experience like, at all?” tori asked. “of being a boyfriend i mean.”

“nada.” i pursed my lips and looked away slightly. not that i was ashamed of that fact in any way. well, okay, maybe a bit.

“oh, well, i’m sure you’ll find that somebody!” tori replied optimistically, turning to face me. “i mean… i really hope you do.” she flashed me a sincere look. “even if you have no experience.”

yeah, thanks for rubbing that in.

but it was funny how blissfully unaware she was of how i was truly feeling in that very moment. painstakingly oblivious.

“oh, trust me,” i chuckled, smirking at her slightly, “i already have.”

(a/n: this was a song that i hc they were listening/dancing to)

youtube

•

“hey, harper, could you come up here for a sec? i need to send you on a mission.”

it wasn’t until my ap calc teacher said that last sentence that i could breathe a sigh of relief. i had thought for sure he’d snuck a peek of what i was doing under my desk.

i was actually holding my phone there, texting my boyfriend bailey, who was in his human studies class.

and no, it wasn’t the same as anatomy. anatomy focuses more on the physical and biological components of humans. human studies was, i guess, more psychological? and tied in real-world stuff too.

anyway, i stuffed my phone in my pocket and went up to his desk.

owen (my teacher’s name) handed me an envelope with the word “tori” scribbled on it in sloppy cursive.

“you think you could send this over to your friend tori?”

i smiled and nodded. “yeah, i know what class she’s in right now.”

he smiled back. “good. off you go.”

so i went out of the room and down the hall, feeling pretty priveliged to be the messenger of whatever this mystery conversation could be.

now, i wouldn’t call tori and i the best of friends. my sister hated her, for one thing. and ava didn’t want me being friends with tori. i thought the reasoning behind that was stupid.

tori and i never really crossed paths outside of school. she was always off busy doing something, but she would never say what. especially as of recent. she was an off-and-on texter with me, and for some reason that annoyed me. you would think that it had something to do with me having a boyfriend now, and she was jealous of that. but no. she seemed quite happy without one. at least i thought she didn’t have one.

so i entered tori’s classroom and found her desk near the door, conveniently enough.

she turned around and smiled at me when she saw me. “hey harper,” she waved. “what are you doing here?”

i went over to the side of her desk and dropped the envelope on top of it. “it’s from owen,” i said.

tori did not waste any time opening it, the way she did it seeming unnaturally rushed and eager.

inside it was just a small slip of paper that read “meet me at the end of emily row, 1122. see you there, and soon. hearts. ~o”

“uh…” i cocked my head to the side, looking at her enthusiastic grin plastered in her face, her whole body trembling and giddy with excitement, even her feet were kicking slightly. “are you two, like… dating… or something?”

i wasn’t intending on being serious at all with that statement, but judging from the bright red color that instantly flashed on her face, it might as well have been.

she looked slightly appalled and offended that i would even suggest such a prospect.

“psht, what? no, that… that’s absurd.” she waved it off, chuckling ever so slightly. “you must be crazy out of your mind.”

i rolled my eyes, backing up a step. “i’m just gonna leave now.”

she waved goodbye to me and i waved back, watching her put the envelope back into the paper and stuff it inside her desk.

“god,” i muttered as i walked back to ap calc, “some people are just so weird nowadays.”

•

it was quite easy for me to find the address owen had written on the scrap paper.

no, it wasn’t his house. i bet that was the first thing you thought of a couple paragraphs back.

it wasn’t my house, either.

it was actually a community pool that was located about a block or so away from his house, at least, that’s what he told me via text.

so i parked at the parking lot, and found his car parked a couple of slots over. it was a grey mercedes, which contrasted my burgundy toyota sedan that had gotten handed down to me from my grandma.

now, i had a pool in the backyard of my house. but it was tiny and infested with algae.

but owen knew how much i liked to swim. so we chose here as a meeting spot.

i got out of my car, the duffel bag that i had my change of clothes in slung over my shoulder, and headed towards the gate.

once there, i searched all around for where owen could be, but he was nowhere to be found.

i sighed and dropped my duffel bag down by my feet. he said he would be waiting for me, where could he possibly be?

just when i was about to take a step back towards my car, a pair of hands covered my eyes.

“where do you think you’re going?” i could feel his voice right in my ear.

i couldn’t help but giggle, as i was quite ticklish.

then i spun around and squeezed him right.

“you made it!” i cheerily exclaimed.

“of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” i felt owen’s hand rub my head.

obviously, with him being older came the fact that he was also significantly taller.

so it was easy for him to treat me like a younger sibling, at least it felt that way to me.

but the way he ran his fingers through my hair suggested anything but a sibling-like relationship.

“c’mon,” he opened the gate, taking my hand, “we can strip off our clothes once we get settled.”

when we stepped inside, i instantly noticed how few people there were. and thank god nobody we knew or even recognized from school.

owen had on a casual t-shirt and shorts that i never in my wildest dreams thought i’d ever see him wear. i was used to seeing him in what he wore at school, more dressy, professional-looking attire.

he was the first to strip off his shirt, and god. DAMN. was he chiseled. i never expected him to be the type to have a six-pack. holy smokes. holy cow. all i wanted to do was feel it.

his skin wasn’t the tannest, but that didn’t really matter to me. god, what did a six-pack even feel like? now i desperately wanted to know.

“what are you waiting for?” owen chuckled, motioning for me to lift my shirt up and off my person.

so that’s what i did.

what that revealed was a small tattoo (my only one) that i kept in a very discreet place, underneath my left breast.

owen noticed it right away, of course.

he cocked an eyebrow and pointed to it.

“who’s emily?” he asked in kind of a soft voice.

the tattoo was simply the name “emily” written in cursive, with a few tiny roses around the perimeter.

“oh, um…” i blushed slightly. “that was, um… well, emily was…” shoot. i wanted to tell him, but something about it just made me the slightest bit uncomfortable.

whatever. he deserved to know. if he was gonna get to know the rest of me anyhow.

“i had a sister named emily,” i lamented. “she… died… from heart failure.” i swallowed hard. “she wasn’t even two. i never got to know what she was like, or would be like…” i sighed. “that’s why i’m an only child now.”

owen had a glassy look in his eyes and a hand over his mouth as he looked me over with the deepest sincerity, and almost apologetically, as if instantly regretted asking.

“i’m sorry i told you,” i quickly apologized.

“no, no, i’m sorry that happened to you. that… that must have been hard on you all.”

i nodded. “yeah, it… it was.”

suddenly i could feel my breath catch in my throat, in the form of a lump that led to tears collecting in my eyes from the discomfort. and then the discomfort quickly turned to pain. pain because i remembered it all so well. how my mother became depressed, battled with it for months before leaving me and my dad for a whole year. but then she returned only because she felt bad. but she had met another guy who she’d been texting on the regular. it was the year after my sister’s death that was the real rollercoaster. because my dad caught onto the other guy, and i guess it was his turn to leave me and my mom. but this time, for good.

drama did not sit well with me. any form, any amount, no matter how unnecessary or petty it was or became.

i just didn’t want it to consume my life, or my mental health.

but every time it seemed, all i would do was break down and cry. over and over again. because i couldn’t help it. i was human. i was vulnerable. i never had the easiest life in the world. but i never wanted to view myself as a dissapointment. although some days were harder than others.

before i could cover my eyes with my palms, i saw owen take a knee in front of me. looking up at me with genuine concern. “you okay sunshine?” he asked gently, taking both my hands tenderly in his own.

i shook my head. “no,” i squeaked out, “i’m not.” and i felt totally okay saying that, at least in front of him.

owen let go of my hands and brought his hands up to my eyes. making the motion with both of them like he was turning door handles, rotating them in towards each other. and he looked concentrated as he did,

“what… what are you doing.” now i was more confused than anything.

“turning off the waterworks.” he smiled slightly, dropping his hands into his lap clasped together. “it’s how i got riley to stop crying when she would break down.” he frowned. “it only worked some of the time.”

“oh, um…” i sniffled, wiping both my eyes with my own fists. “i… i’m sorry…” i swallowed hard, knowing full well that my face was bright red and puffy and disgusting, the way it always looked when i cried.

owen quickly glanced to the pool before looking back into my eyes, taking my hand again.

“here,” he tugged it slightly towards the pool, “why don’t we go swimming for a bit? that’ll take your mind off of it, won’t it?”

i nodded, smiling slightly. “y-yeah… it will… i think…”

“plus you’ll have me,” he squeezed my hand before moving a bit closer. “me… and you…” he pointed to each of us respectively, smirking a bit. “just us.”

i looked around, noticing that he was right. now, we were the only ones there.

so i allowed him to go first into the pool, still holding onto my hand and acting all gentleman-like helping me step foot into the shallow end.

he kept an arm around me as we headed towards the deep end.

i found myself diving right in, feeling the splash of him diving in after me, both of our bodies submerged under the water. even when we were far apart, it felt super intimate. like nothing i’d ever experienced before.

suddenly, i felt two arms encircle my midsection, with two hands settling right where my belly button was, pulling me into him.

and i could feel his abs press against my back. i turned around so my hands ran along each muscle of his six-pack.

two hands then grabbed my wrists, pulling them off.

but i couldn’t help myself. i wanted to feel all around him, everywhere, everywhere that was clothed, everywhere that wasn’t.

and maybe owen was thinking the same thing.

because now i could feel his hands run along my own body, down my sides, resting at the hips.

suddenly i couldn’t breathe underwater any more, i had to come up for air.

and as i blinked my eyes open and treaded water, owen came up right after me, his hands still firmly planted on my hips, our bodies barely touching.

“you alright?” he asked me, his left hand now running back up along my side and towards my face. i felt it caress my cheek as he used his other hand to pull me a bit closer to him.

i smiled and nodded. “this feels nice,” i whispered.

“oh yeah?” he brought my face closer to his. “you want it to feel even nicer?”

i cocked my head to the side.

“do you?” his voice and expression softened a touch, like he genuinely meant it.

i smiled wide and nodded. “of course.”

he then sunk back down to the bottom of the pool, pulling me down with him.

my eyes were completely shut as i felt his arms work their way around my body before one of them settled around my lower torso and the other around the back of my head, simply holding me in place against him.

i felt him slowly rubbing my back, almost tickling it, squeezing me a bit tighter.

then i felt a new touch that wasn’t by a hand, or an arm, but instead, by a pair of lips, right into my neck. then those lips worked their way up to my face, kissing me on the cheeks, the forehead, the top of my head, but when they reached my lips, i unconsciously wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning straight into him.

i felt the whole weight of my body float up towards the surface, me not even having to gasp for air.

i felt on cloud nine, being loved this simply, purely and intimately.

and when i opened my eyes and saw him staring back at me so lovingly, his arms still around me, i couldn’t help but smile wide.

“that… felt… amazing…” i breathed out.

owen chuckled and went right in to kiss me again. “i just wanted you to feel how a kiss feels to me. super magical, right?”

i nodded enthusiasticly, grinning widely.

he kissed me one more time. “every time i do that, it feel like we’re both submerged under the water, breathing into each other kinda like we did, and just… floating around each other. touching each other in all the right places.”

“it felt super intimate,” i remarked.

“yeah, it did for me too.” he caressed my cheek once again, dropping his voice down to almost a whisper. “you wanna know something crazy?”

i placed my hand over top of his. “what?” i asked with genuine curiosity in my voice and my eyes.

he shook his head and smiled. “you’re a pretty damn good kisser.”

i giggled slightly, and perhaps nervously as well. “um… thanks… i guess?”

“c’mon,” he laughed, “it’s a compliment, take it!”

now it was my turn to grab his cheeks and kiss him right back. “well guESS whAT?! yOU’re a pretty DAMN good kisser as well!!!”

“oh, stop,” he chuckled nervously, “i’ve never kissed a girl before, how should i be any good?”

“because i just know you are. i can feel it.” i kissed him again. “it feels amazing. it makes me feel happy. that’s what kissing someone you love is supposed to make them feel, right?”

he smiled. “yeah, i guess that’s true.”

he then took my hand in mine tenderly and gently. “i don’t ever want any moment with you to end. ever. not even if we have to fall asleep, and you have have to wake up in the morning to get to school, and i have to wake up in the morning to get to my job. that… that’s how i feel. every time i’m with you.”

my heart skipped a beat at the way he said it. so softly, so sincerely.

“i wanna kiss you again, fuckit,” i muttered, giggling.

he laughed with me before he dragged me back down into the water, repeating the intimate makeout session all over again.

maybe even a third time.

maybe even a fourth.

i lost count by the time the sun began to set.

•

“you KISSED her?!?!?!” riley spurted out at me.

“she was into it!!” i spat back.

riley’s jaw hung slightly agape and she simply shook her head, putting a hand on her chest, muttering quietly, “i can’t believe you.”

“look, it, i…” i sighed. “whatever. it doesn’t matter. just… promise me you won’t tell ava, alright?” i held out my hand, as usually we shook on promises.

riley rolled her eyes and hesitantly stuck her hand out to shake mine. “this doesn’t mean i approve of your actions.”

“i don’t need you to approve of them.”

“they’re morally and ethically wrong!”

“i’m well aware,” i sighed.

and for the rest of the car ride, riley and i didn’t say another word to each other, sitting on either side of starla’s car seat in awkward, uncomfortable silence.

i didn’t know what the worst part was, that starla was still fast asleep and not helping the silence any, or the fact that i didn’t even feel a smidge bad that riley was upset at me, or that i was doing something that would definitely get me in major trouble.

#Youtube

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jonesyjonesyjonesy · 2 years

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Wildflowers (pt. xiv.ii)

a john paul jones x fem!oc fic

summary: Julia Morgan knew nannying for three girls who had recently lost their mother would come with many challenges. But she never thought their father, the enigmatic musician John Paul Jones, would be causing her the most trouble. And while Julia is not in the business of saving broken men, her tenderness might be meant for more than little girls and wildflowers.

table of contents │ previous chapter

masterlist│ko-fi

notes: drugs, infidelity, yacht rock

a/n: You've all been so patient. I just hope you love it. 💖

pt. xiv.ii, wild rose

"You’re right. That is the best kind of magic.”

As soon as the audience burst into a final round of applause, my reverie was broken. I felt a hand on my arm tight before she had even left the stage. I jumped and came face to face with Richard’s growl of facial hair. “Let’s go.” Evidently, when Richard said hurry, he meant it.

Once I was on my feet, I was hit with a wall of dizziness. I had sucked down so much champagne in my nervous state that the room was spinning. I clung to Robert’s arm as we rushed out to the docks. The aforementioned "boat” was a bit of an understatement. This was a gargantuan yacht, lush with exuberant laughter and music, grandiose in all ways. As we walked down the gangplank, I was sobered by the crisp air coming up from the lake that tousled my hair and tickled the tops of my ears.

The upper deck was rife with dancers smashing their feet and dripping over the railings. We avoided this thrall and made our way into the more exclusive main cabin. Despite being indoors, all the windows and doors were open, billowing with lacy curtains. It was less crowded, but still full of activity. A bar hosted a boisterous crowd trading joints back and forth; in an open doorway people flicked in and out to look up at the beaming moon; and in the middle, a sunken conversation pit made up of red couches became a hub of activity for deep conversations and intertwined couples indiscriminately.

Richard brought us directly to the bar and ordered another round of champagne which I had switched out for club soda as soon as his back was turned.

“Don’t tell on me,” I murmured to Robert.

“Not if want to keep my bollocks, I won’t.”

I glared at him and he waggled his eyebrows in response. “You know I say things like that because of how cross you get. With that little crinkle between your eyebrows,” he teased.

I touched my forehead reflexively and shook it off. “How’s my lipstick?”

“In need of a refresh,” he said. He reached for my purse and retrieved the bullet of lipstick, but not before commenting on some other contents. “Plasters? You playing nurse now?”

I smacked his hand. “For the girls. Now. Lips.”

Robert had a remarkably steady hand when it came to applying the lipstick to my puckered lips. He gently carved the excess pigment from under my lower lip with his thumbnail. “There we go. Pretty as a picture.”

I had to appreciate Robert’s compliments, even if they sometimes felt like they were crossing a line. He wouldn't let me believe I was out of place for a second.

Abruptly, his gaze shifted up over my shoulder. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I frowned. “What? What is it?”

Richard blew past me with a placating smile on his face. “The man of the hour!”

My bones started rattling. “Oh god.”

“Julia…”

“Is it him?” I hissed. “Is it –“ I started to turn around, but Robert grabbed me.

“I don’t want you to panic.”

I immediately felt the symptoms of panic set in.

“He’s got someone with him, but it’s not –”

“What do you mean?” I asked and began to turn again.

Robert tried to pull me back, but I was intent on seeing. Intent on breaking my own heart. Before my eyes, my recurring nightmare manifested into exact reality. Sure enough, there he was. John ambling in, eyes grazing the scenery. And he wasn’t alone. Beside him, a brunette in a pair of slick to skin dungarees, clutching his bicep with sharp red fingernails. A cigarette propped between her pert lips, the smoke intermingling with her effervescent curls. Born of smoke, of fire, of my personal hell.

I somehow wasn’t shocked. Every doubt I had had about his interest was confirmed. Of course he couldn’t be interested in me, had probably never even thought of me in more than friendly terms. But god, I was gutted more than I ever had been. I could imagine the pathetic headline: Musician’s nanny, 27, found slaughtered on the floor of Montreux yacht.

She said something to make him smile; I couldn’t believe he just gave out those smiles to anyone. Briefly, John returned to scanning the scenery and in doing so, his eyes met mine. The corners of his lips perked, but I couldn’t tell if it was a smile of relief or apology.

What had it all meant? Me going to see him play? The song? My education? Was this it? Had he gotten the slightest whiff of my desire and was now trying to teach me a lesson?

“S’just a bird.”

I snapped my attention back to Robert. “Just a –“

“Julie, Julie. Listen. They’re everywhere. Like mosquitoes. Sometimes you can’t squash them before they draw blood.” Robert put his hand around the nape of my neck so I had no possible way of taking another, painful look. “You have to be cool about it.”

“How do I ‘be cool’ about it? I’ve never been coolheaded about anything,” I said with anxiety riding my every word.

Robert looked across the room to where I imagined John locked in a hungry embrace with a succubus. “You trust me?” he asked.

I didn’t answer before he slung a hand over my back and pulled me into his chest by the shoulder. “Robert, please –“

“You trust me?”

There was the ring of a bell outside, a hooplah from the upper deck, the slightest sway of my gravity. The boat had left the deck. There was no getting out of this, no running away. I could either accept his help or hide. And I didn’t come all the way out to Montreux to hide. “What do I do?”

“Don’t get all analytical about it, just let me help you out, alright?”

I swallowed, looking up at the towering, golden-haired man. “You better not get any ideas, or else I’ll –“

“I promise, it’s all for the game,” he replied. Despite his words, he leaned into my ear and pulled on the front of my skirt.

I squealed and resisted. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m doing you a favor,” he hissed back. The skirt hugged my bottom tightly. “I’ve played this game with John before. He’s fun to make mad.”

“You’re going to make me look easy.“

“Stop acting like you don’t want to make him jealous,” he purred, his curls starting to tickle my cheek. “Oh, there go his eyes, right on down to…god, he’s so predictable. Ah! Now he’s spotted me – oh, he looks mad!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was better than crying. I relaxed in Robert’s grip and gently rested my hand on his bicep; if this was a game, I would have to start making moves.

“Good girl. They’re coming this way…she’s a looker, isn’t she?”

“Robert,” I whined.

“So are you, please. You’ve got quite an ego, haven’t you?” Suddenly, he released my skirt and wrapped his arm around my waist, turning me toward my misery. “There he is! Johnny boy! How d’ya feel, mate?”

With nowhere to run or hide, no possible way to deny the inevitable any longer, I faced John. It was the closest my heart had ever come to bursting. John’s eyes were bright, but lazing, heavy and undoubtedly high. His hair at the scalp was piecey with sweat. And while our heights still matched as they usually did, it was sort of comical that we had both added a few inches by our shoes. “Oh, hi, John,” I managed with a gripping smile. I flicked my gaze to the woman at his arm who barely noticed me, her eyes squarely on Robert.

“Wasn’t the show good, Julia?” Robert prodded a finger into my waist.

“Brilliant. It was brilliant. We were just talking about it. How wonderful it was,” I rambled, discreetly examining every inch of John’s companion.

“You liked it?”

Robert snorted, “You don’t even have to ask. She was sitting on the edge of her seat the whole time, I was afraid she was going to fall off.”

I giggled coquettishly. “Oh, stop it.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Robert said to John’s companion.

Her eyes brightened at his attention. “I’m Peggy. And I know who you are,” she said in a feminine, lilting voice cloistered in an American accent.

“Really?” he replied wryly.

She nodded. I hated her. I examined the way her hips inclined toward John’s. Untouching and yet full of potent, suggestive energy.

“Peggy is Maria’s friend,” John announced as to not let the conversation drop. “From New York.”

“No kidding,” Robert said with an overly interested tone. “Which part?”

Peggy beamed. “The Village.”

“Of course. Obviously,” he said (although I had no idea what made it obvious).

I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes as Robert and Peggy traded banal small talk. I looked down at my club soda that was releasing bits of bobs of CO2.

“What are you drinking?” John asked, trying to draw me into a separate conversation.

I tried to remain nonplussed. “Club soda.”

John raised an eyebrow.

“I was quite jolly during your set. Had to…slow down,” I said.

“If you’re tired, I’m sure there’s a skiff that can take you back to shore,” John posited. “You don’t have to stay out on my account…or Robert’s.”

My blood boiled. So he wanted to be rid of me too. “Not tired.”

“Right,” he replied. “You’re having a good night?”

I gave him a patronizing smile. “Splendid.” And then I turned my attention back to Peggy so as not to continue the conversation.

In my periphery, I saw his mouth draw tight in a line before he turned to the bartender and ordered two vodka sodas. I wasn’t going to make nice, tiddling chatter with him when I felt so deeply betrayed. Could I be betrayed when a commitment had never been made? Or had a commitment been made? Over playing cards and whisky. The nights of laughter. The admissions. He knew too much for him to betray me like this.

“Been too long since we’ve been to New York, last time must have been the label launch, wasn’t it, John?” Robert asked.

John nodded, retrieving the drinks and handing one of them over to Peggy. “Mm. Yes. Probably.”

“Probably, yeah, yeah,” Robert replied. Then he slung his hand around to my hip bone, casual and possessive. John’s eyes immediately jumped to his hand.

We idled momentarily. "Aren't you going to introduce me, John?" I asked with pursed lips.

John cleared his throat. “Sorry, sorry. Yes. Um, Peggy, this is Julia.”

“Julia. Pretty name,” Peggy smiled. Her eyes lazed about in the same way John’s did. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had been passing around a joint backstage. “You’re John’s friend?”

The word friend hit me like a blow dart to the middle of the forehead. “I’m his nanny,” I said. “Well, not his nanny, not…” Peggy let out a raging giggle which made me want to sink into the earth. “For his children, I nanny his children,” I amended and reached for my club soda, wishing it was straight vodka.

“She nannies me more than either of us would care to admit,” John said to Peggy kindly.

She laughed and slouched onto his shoulder. “Well, he was the hero of the night. Maria would’ve totally been up the creek if he hadn’t –“

“No, stop that,” he interrupted. It was clear they had had this back and forth several times already.

“I’m serious!” she retorted. “He’s got this false modesty that’s so…”

I smiled. “I know what you mean.”

“Aggravating,” Peggy finished and then returned her gaze to John. “But very charming.”

I felt sick.

“Oi, listen, I think I see – well, I can’t tell if it’s Emerson, Lake, or Palmer, but one of them is waving us over,” Robert said, raising a hand to wave at someone across the room. I couldn’t tell if he was putting on airs to leave us alone, but it was a bloody good performance. “Lemme introduce you, yeah?” and then added for John, “He was making eyes at Julie all of your set.”

“Um, alright, enjoy yourselves then,” John said uneasily.

“We will, mate, we will,” Robert grinned and, with a flourish of his hand, plucked John’s vodka soda out of his hand and gave it to me. “If you don’t mind.”

John’s body went rigid and his nostrils flared. I’m ashamed to admit how pleased I was that he was annoyed. “Not at all.”

I took a sip of the drink. “Thank you, John.”

“You’re welcome, Julia,” he said dryly.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Plant,” Peggy said as we stepped away, batting her long lacquery lashes.

Robert winked, “Likewise. Catch up with you later, Jones.”

And before another word could be said, Robert tugged me away toward the red couches of the conversation pit. “Good show, I think,” he said in my ear.

I admittedly was a bit thrilled at how we had put a damper on John’s spirit. I couldn’t fathom where he got off on trying to be friendly, approaching me with a woman on his arm. It was emotional barbarism. “I feel pathetic,” I sighed.

“Shh…none of that,” Robert murmured.

“I mean it. Can’t believe I even thought for a moment I could –“

“Where’s the confidence you had when you pinned Jimmy Page down by the face?”

Normally, I would have been completely mortified that he had the gall to bring it up. However, tonight was not normal. I couldn't help but laugh. He was right. There was a spark about me, a flame inside, that always yearned to be incendiary. “What, do you think you should grab my arse as we walk away?”

Robert’s eyes glinted and his mouth curled into a twine-like smile. “Now you’re catching on, I think.”

We made our way down into the conversation pit where a group of tittering musicians and their lackeys greeted Robert with gusto. Robert introduced me, but I couldn’t remember anyone’s name. I was more concerned with keeping John and Peggy in my peripheral vision than keeping track of the new names and faces. I studied the way they spoke, as if they were in their own private world, whispering, and how he nudged her waist and nodded toward the opposite side of the pit.

“Stop watching,” Robert whispered in my ear. “Have fun.”

He put an encouraging hand on my shoulder and brought me into a buoyant conversation with Keith Emerson, who I pretended to be familiar with (but how could I when even Robert couldn’t discern whether it was Emerson, Lake, or Palmer?). “Wouldn’t you be keen on getting Zeppelin a permanent rehearsal space?”

“No, no, sounds horrendous. Don’t want to get stagnant.”

Emerson glowered. “We’re not stagnant.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean you were stagnant. ELP is always fresh and…well, I just can’t imagine we would do well with a space. Zeppelin isn’t much about roots. You understand?”

Emerson narrowed his eyes. “Creativity thrives with constraints.”

“For some, maybe,” Robert said after taking a tight puff of a cigarette. “Some people don’t know what to do with too much freedom on their hands.”

I laughed. “Not you though?”

“Not me, no,” he chuckled. “I’m not saying the choices we are make are always good ones, but –“

“Well, maybe that’s it. Maybe through constraint you have fewer choices to make, but they’re almost always the correct ones,” Emerson said haughtily.

Robert paused and then leant toward him. “Tell you what, I’d love to come by and see your space. See what kind of creativity it inspires.”

As I sat with him, listened to him speak, I felt like I was clearing away fog from a window. Robert could be lewd and forward, abundantly cocksure, and proud to an extent I had not witnessed in a human before and yet there was an undercurrent to him I wasn’t sure he even knew about. A wistfulness that punctuated the way he spoke. It must have been impossible to come to grips with being a living legend. Untouchable. Not just a “golden god” but King Midas. Rather lonely and sad. Maybe that’s why he took to women like fish to water, to avoid ever sinking in that feeling for too long.

I let my eyes drift across the conversation pit to where John and Peggy had sat. They looked awfully cozy, knees knocking together, giggling privately. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was green from tip to toe from how envious I was.

“I told you, stop watching,” Robert admonished.

“I can’t,” I said. “This is all just so silly.”

Robert huffed. “Put your hand on the inside of my thigh, alright?”

“Robert.”

“He’s looking. S’now or never, Julie.”

I did as Robert said, nervously draping my hand over his wide thigh.

“Plenty of girls’d be thrilled by the opportunity to touch my inner thigh. At least pretend like you’re enjoying yourself,” he mumbled.

I pushed my fingers into the denim. “Happy?”

“Easy there, I’m going to think you actually like me in a minute with a grip like that.”

“I’ll brain you.”

“You promise?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Okay, now look over at him,” Robert instructed, each word precise.

I took a deep breath and looked across the pit toward John. Robert was right. He was looking right at us. When our eyes met, John tried to smile pleasantly, as if we had accidentally looked at one another at the same time. There wasn’t time for more before Peggy wrapped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed him close to her so she could say something in his ear. I pulled myself in closer to Robert. Subsequently, John turned his chin toward Peggy so he could watch her lips while she spoke.

I narrowed my eyes. Game on. “What now?” I said to Robert.

“Slow down, Julie. This is chess, not checkers. And unfortunately, John’s very good at chess.”

So it went on like this. Trading closenesses like chess pieces. Robert would touch my chin and Peggy would thumb John’s hair. I would lean on Robert’s shoulder, John would admire one of the rings on Peggy’s hand, palm to palm.

It was absolutely chess. And I was teetering on playing an aggressive game until it was interrupted by a crude tap on my shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”

I turned around to be faced with a very perturbed Richard Cole who was straddling the back of the couch like he was climbing down a steep cliffside. This is a situation I would never wish upon my worst enemy.

“Not at all,” Robert said and gave me a squeeze. “Join us.”

“I’d like a word with Miss Morgan, f’that’s alright,” he said to Robert as if I wasn’t there.

I was about to object, but Robert had other plans. “I actually need to find the loo…or the head…funny name for a bathroom. The head.” He laughed gleefully. “You alright if I leave you alone, Julie?”

The idiotic, pleasantness of womanhood came over me. “Yes, completely fine. You go run off to the – the head.”

“Don’t be angry if I’m too long,” he said, brushing a knuckle along my jaw.

I couldn’t manage more friendliness. “Yeah, bugger off already.”

Robert stood and gallivanted off across the room to find the head, or, more likely, trouble.

I was left alone with Richard and his cold naked stare. “Hello, Mr. Cole,” I said politely.

His lips crumpled in the shadow of his beard. He held out a bottle of champagne and gestured it toward my now drained vodka soda. “Can I top you off?”

“Please.”

He began to pour the liquid delicately into the glass so the bubbles wouldn’t rush over the rim. “So what’s the big idea?”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s he doing over there with her?” he asked, jerking his head toward the objects of my loathing.

I snorted. “He walked in with her. You saw them, didn’t you?”

“So?” he snapped, as if I had let a child walk into traffic. “’He walked in with her.’ Christ, you’re making my job difficult.”

“What is your job?” I angrily replied.

He scoffed. “You aren’t going to play dumb with me, are you? I’m a facilitator. I’m a… I’m a conductor,” he said with a puffed chest. “You get it? They all play the instruments and I make sure they get on stage to play them.”

I did not get it, but I could sense lethalness in the folds of his words that I did not want to tempt.

Richard slid down the back of the sofa so he was now sitting in the spot next to me. “Peter tells me to keep an eye on the nanny because John’s got his eye on the nanny and the nanny’s got hers on John, but lo and behold, the two are morons because neither of them have got a fuckin’ spine,” he rambled as if he wasn’t even talking to me. Like a cunning cartoon villain spilling out his masterplan for all to hear.

“He’s the one who walked in with someone else. I’m not going to be a fool and try and get in the middle of that,” I said and then gave another fleeting look to the couple. At least John looked happy. I hated myself, that even when I was so wounded, I still wanted him to be happy. “You can still chalk it up as a win for Mr. Grant, I assure you.”

“That’s not the fucking point now, is it?” Richard tightened his hand on the neck of the champagne bottle and gave me a hollow smile. “You’re just over here making him mad by piddling about with Robert. We know that’s all just for show, right?”

I shook my head. “Mr. Cole, I have it on good authority that John is not in the market for a woman,” I said shakily. “At least not more than a night. There’s nothing between us that needs to be magnified like this.”

Richard looked at me with surprising softness. If he pitied me, I no longer cared. If he believed me, at least he’d be off my case. He glanced down at my glass and gave one last splash of champagne. “Try to enjoy yourself, alright?” he grumbled and then got to his feet and walked directly across the conversation pit to John. I watched sullenly as Richard handed him the whole champagne bottle; Peggy laughed riotously at the gesture and took the first sip.

I was such a nuisance here to everyone. I was a burden to Richard, a charity case to Robert, and a pathetic lonelyheart to John. I downed my champagne in three gulps and resolved to find a crewmember to take me back to shore.

“Someone sitting here?” An Irish accent, a polite question.

I looked up; before me was a man with fluffy, shoulder-length hair in a plaid shirt carrying a half-full pint glass. The man was not especially tall or short, but he was rather pretty looking, with lashy eyes and a mouth parted like a fish approaching a hook.

I coyly smiled. “You are, I think.”

He thanked me. In just a few words, the man made me feel incredibly nostalgic. He nestled in beside me, with respectful distance between us. Despite asking to sit next to me, he said nothing more.

“You’re Irish.”

His eyebrows raised and lips twitched. “What gave it away?”

I laughed. “Lucky guess.”

He laughed too, but again went quiet.

“My uncle was from there,” I added.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, Uncle Donal. He married my Aunt Virginia and stole her away from London to run a dairy farm.”

The man chuckled. “That sounds about right. My brother’s Donal too.”

“Really?”

The man nodded. “He’s around here somewhere. Although he hasn’t got a dairy farm.”

“Not yet,” I corrected.

“That’s true. You know how Irishmen are,” he replied cheekily.

“I’m familiar,” I said. “So your brother is Donal and my uncle is Donal.”

“And your aunt is Virginia.”

“And you are?”

His eyes, downturned and boyish, widened. “Rory.”

Rory. A darling name. He must have been around my age, but the perpetual look of wonder made me feel much older. “Julia.”

He was quiet and took another sip of his beer. “You alright?”

“Pardon me?”

“Whatever that conversation was didn’t look pleasant,” Rory said softly.

I smiled and felt my brow tucking upward. I really couldn’t wait to be alone to cry. “Oh. No. I mean. It wasn’t pleasant. But I’m fine,” I said. “Especially now that I’m talking with you.”

Rory blushed and looked off. “You’re here with Zeppelin.” Statement, not question.

Robert hadn’t been wrong. People watched, looked, and categorized. I cocked my head. “Yes.”

“Here with Plant, then?”

I guffawed. “No, no.”

“Part of their…entourage?” Rory said, clearly disdaining the word.

I bristled. “No, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Would you?”

“Well, you were talking close with the bassist at the bar,” he said with “And then you’ve been on Plant’s hip for awhile now, too.”

I smirked. “You’ve been watching me, have you?”

“Just notice things,” he drawled, lips hinting with mischief. “And it’s not hard to notice Led Zeppelin. They’re like walking advertisements.” Rory’s voice was pleasant to listen to and I had to listen very carefully. His words were so closely elided that his language became code.

I leaned toward him and said in a low voice, “Yes, but you can’t have your tits out in advertisements.”

Rory laughed, a duck diving under water. “Not unless you’re Robert Plant.”

I grinned with wide eyes and nicked him on the arm. He flushed and looked down into the dregs of his beer, rather pleased with himself.

“I’m the nanny to Mr. Jones’ children,” I said.

“A nanny? That’s a new one. Never met a nanny at one of these,” Rory replied amusedly. “Is this a perk of the job?”

I shook my head. “No, no, we’ve just become rather good friends, I suppose.”

“So if the nanny’s on a night out, who is watching the children?” he asked, tongue curling into the corner of his mouth.

I laughed. “Oh, they’re around here somewhere.”

“Ah! Yes, of course. Teaching them the ways of the world,” Rory said with an abject irony.

I laughed, but stopped when I got the gut twisting feeling of being looked at. I looked across the pit; John eyes were on me. No smile, no friendliness. Just…considering. Our game of chess, idling.

“I’m afraid I don’t know who you are. My profession precludes that sort of knowledge oftentimes,” I said with a demure cock of my head.

Unlike what I would expect from a well-known musician, he looked rather flattered I was asking. “I play guitar.”

“In a band?”

He chuckled, “Something like that. It’s my band.”

“It’s your band.”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s something,” I said, letting my knee bump up against his without drawing it away.

Rory’s eyes dropped to our new point of connection; he tucked his hair behind his ear. I wasn’t sure if he was anxious or calculated, but I didn’t mind either way. I found his timidity to be a respite from all the brashness of the evening.

“My drink’s all water,” I said quickly to Rory. He raised an eyebrow. I showed him the remains of the ice at the bottom of my glass. “Could I try yours?”

Rory appeased me with a “sure, sure” and held the drink out to me. Instead of taking it in my hand, I put my mouth to the lip of the glass and batted my eyes at him. He took the cue brilliantly and tipped the glass back slowly so the tepid beer slid to my mouth.

“Careful, don’t want to make a mess,” he murmured, putting two fingers to my jaw to guide me.

I swallowed, drew back from the glass, and looked back to John. He had watched, I knew he had. His lips were screwed together tight. In victory, I smiled back at Rory. “Thank you.”

“S’just backwash by now,” Rory replied.

“It was just fine to me,” I grinned.

Robert returned then, jauntier than before. I wasn’t sure if he had gone to the head or gotten it from the new swagger in his hips. “Gallagher! How’s Montreux treating you?”

I shot a look at Rory. This soft spoken man was the Gallagher that had been headlining the entire festival. It was hard to imagine, which made me like him even more.

“Good,” he said with a genial smile. “Had a good coupla shows.”

“I’m sorry to have missed it. Julie here wanted to watch Maria Muldaur sing camels to bed, despite all my protestations,” Robert replied, taking his spot again next to me and hooking his arm around my neck.

I glared at Robert. “I wouldn’t call them protestations.”

“Some other time then,” Rory said with a soft shrug. He paused only momentarily and then pointed at my empty drink. “What were you drinking?”

“Vodka soda,” Robert answered for me. He was leaning into my back heavily. Something was different. His whole posture was sludgy and cumbersome. Too many limbs in all the wrong places. “Such a gentleman, isn’t he Julie Andrews?”

I looked at him warily and then back to Rory. “Please, you don’t have to –“

“Naw, I’d be happy to,” Rory cut me off. There was a sort of sadness in his pleasantry. Perhaps a disappointment. I wished I could have had him a moment longer to show him that I shared that disappointment. “Besides, you practically drank me out of house and home,” he said with a gesture of his nearly empty pint glass.

Rory rose and mosied off toward the bar. Who knows if we had had just a few more moments together where that night would have gone. It’s rather romantic to think about untraveled history, but despite my best intentions, I am a rather romantic person and consequently this sort of thinking gets the better of me.

“Making the rounds, are we?” Robert said with a lazy tongue.

“What did you get up to?” I asked, drawing away so I could get a better look at his face. His pupils were wide and his whole face drooped.

Robert smiled, “Just a couple something or others from a girl who’s made an apothecary out of the head. You can’t piss without her hawking her wares.”

I blinked at him. “You look awful.”

Robert clutched his heart flaccidly. “My ego, Julia, my ego.”

“Barely bruised,” I said.

“You’ve gotten so cold. Should I have left you alone with Gallagher?”

I glanced across the conversation pit just in time to watch Peggy flock her hand down the side of John’s scalp, catching his hair in her hand. Fucking hell. I was just making it worse.

“Stop looking.”

“How can I, Robert?” I snapped. “This isn’t working you know.”

“Shhhh, shh, sh…” Robert reached into the pocket of his mostly unbuttoned shirt and revealed a thick, throbbing joint. “If you aren’t going to relax on your own, I’ll make you.”

I shook my head. “Can’t. Makes me cough.”

“Oh, that means you’re not doing it right.”

“Robert,” I had run out of patience. “I do it fine, it just doesn’t work for me. Alright?”

He rolled his eyes and ignored me; he propped the joint between his lips and fumbled around for a lighter, touching each and every pocket on his person before finding it in the very same pocket he had retrieved the joint from. “I’ll get it started and then you can have some, alright?”

“Don’t want any. I’ll wait for my vodka soda.”

Robert puffed on the joint. I couldn’t breathe without tasting cannabis on the back of my tongue. He held it out to me and I ignored it. “Fine, if you want to be obstinate about it.” He took another puff and wrapped his big hand around the side of my head, just as Peggy had done to John, except there was no restraint here, no tease. Suddenly, his lips were on mine.

There’s nothing quite as sobering as a kiss that isn’t supposed to happen. I crashed back to earth, remembered who I was and where I was. A tragedy of awareness. There was nothing romantic or passionate about the kiss. It was just lips, just a vacuum through which he could force the angry smoke into my lungs. An adamance of smoke. I pushed my hands up against his clavicle and shoved him off, leaving me breathless, unable to move.

“Well, don’t suffocate yourself. Exhale.”

I followed his instruction, but coughed weakly instead.

“You’re such a soft heart, Julia,” Robert said, words twinkling. “You really are.”

I don’t know how it all rolled out exactly after that moment. Robert’s attention turned elsewhere. I sat there staring off. I’d heard those words before although I couldn’t place. But they made me ache. I couldn’t afford to ache more in this moment. I couldn’t even look to see if John had seen what had happened. I didn’t care anymore. I had to get out of there or else I’d burst into tears. I just knew it.

I climbed out of the conversation pit, wading through the throng, and went toward the wavering open door.

Even though I had felt the boat rocking gently over the past hour or so, I was stunned to see the placid lake before me and the bounty of glittering light that was Montreux on the horizon. The music was louder out here, someone playing a smoky, electric guitar and a gruff singing voice that was interrupted with laughter. The deck was full of people milling about, lovers and madmen at once. Still too much.

I remembered the skiff John had mentioned: I looked off the bow to see if there might be a small dinghy floating alongside the yacht, but all that was below me was the sloshing water.

I wriggled down the starboard corridor of the boat. I had to even deal with the hawker Robert had mentioned, a tall, toothy girl with pretty blunt bangs. “You seem stressed,” she said sweetly and held out a handful of little circular pills. I refused politely and shuffled past her.

This is how I ended up at the stern of the boat, away from everyone but the moon and the mountains and the lapping water with my lashes on the railing and my heart completely in tatters. I dropped my purse at my feet, ripped off the false eyelashes, and looked up at the moon. It was a beautiful moon. She witnessed my tragedy so truly that I couldn’t quite bring myself to cry.

“There you are.”

My stomach dropped and my heart leapt into my throat, effectively stretching my insides to opposite, unyielding points. I turned, one hand still clutching the railing. There was John. He was mussed from the evening: rumpled shirt and drooping eyes. But he smiled softly, curiously. “I was wondering where you ran off to,” he said, taking a step further onto the deck.

Alone. At last, entirely alone after this bombastic and ridiculous night. And yet, I couldn’t look at him for more than a few seconds. I lowered my gaze and gestured to the panorama of mountains. “Needed some fresh air,” I said stiltedly.

“May I join you?”

“Please,” I answered and returned to my former station looking out over the water.

John sidled up beside me, distant enough to be both respectful and awkward. In my periphery, I watched him rest a hand on the railing. “How’s your night been?”

I laughed almost reproachfully. “Just fine. Yours?”

John’s brow folded the tiniest bit as he looked down at the water. Trying to think of what to say next. “About the same.” He raised his gaze to meet mine.

“You left Peggy by her lonesome, did you?”

“No, I’ve got Richard keeping an eye on her,” John said. “I was hoping you and I'd get to talk and I could hear how you enjoyed the show.”

It was very hard to stay upset with him when his glossy eyes were so easy to fall into, water engulfing each and every edge of me. “I told you I liked it, didn’t I?”

“Well, yes, but…” he trailed off. “You seemed preoccupied.”

I blinked. “Oh, did I?”

John nodded.

I let out a hum of ignorance. We were both quiet again. I traced my thumb over a flaw of paint on the railing.

“You look nice,” John said, his voice like molasses dropping from a spoon. Three simple words that couldn’t have felt more complicated.

“Thank you.” I glanced over at him. “I was expecting your outfit to be a bit more eccentric.”

John laughed and leaned on the railing. “Well, when I’m someone’s guest, I try to blend in a bit more.”

“Not many people would consider a yellow shirt with sleeves such as these ‘blending in’…” I said, snatching his sleeve between my fingers.

He laughed again. “I have to keep up appearances at least a bit, don’t I?”

I shrugged. “S’pose.”

We retreated into an itchy silence.

John chewed on the corner of his lip, his smile bending with apprehension. “So listen, you know, Maria’s from the whole Greenwich Village scene. In New York. And I asked her about Laura Nyro and if she knew where she’d been, right?”

It was hard to be angry with him when I remembered the song.

“Apparently, she got married and left music completely and no one’s heard from her in two years or something. Married a man who’d fought in Vietnam, I guess and just –” John made a poofing gesture with his hand, “— left.”

“Really? That’s a shame.”

“I know, it really is. I’ve honestly become quite fond of her music,” he said wistfully. “But I can’t say I don’t understand the impulse.”

I flushed thinking of all the times I had made him sit through her albums late at night. I dared to investigate further. Carefully, for my heart required carefulness. “Is that why you played ‘Wedding Bell Blues’, then?”

John tsked and rolled his eyes. “We needed something else to round out the set, wanted to ask Maria about Laura anyway, so I offered the suggestion and the…” He looked over his shoulder to make sure we had privacy and continued through clenched teeth, “The bloody keyboard player only knew that one.”

I laughed.

“Thought we’d play something a bit more nuanced. ‘Blackpatch’. Or ‘Emmie’, thought that’d be a good one for Maria’s voice, but no, the guy only knew fucking ‘Wedding Bell Blues’.”

John’s frustration was obviously for my benefit; the tone of his voice was rounded with humor. “You should have told him to move on over and show him how it’s done.”

“Trust me, I would’ve. But apparently they needed a bassist. No pedals available, so.”

“The horror.”

He chuckled. “Not horror. Just not what I was hoping for.”

My stomach flipped. “Well, I thought it sounded fantastic.”

“Oh good, at least someone enjoyed themselves,” John said drolly.

I couldn’t keep from smiling, the kind of smile where my lips were so tight over my teeth to keep from grinning. Despite the chill in the mountain air, I felt overcome with warmth. That inevitable feeling. That exactly-right feeling. I had to remind myself that right inside, a woman waited for him.

John took a step closer to me, hand sliding down the railing nearer to mine. “You know, it meant a lot you wanted to be there, Julia.”

I could feel my heart breaking already. We had been here so many times. So close, with such tender words. And it hadn’t led to anything but this ridiculous night. “You had plenty of fans out there, I promise.”

“Yes, but it’s different,” he replied, his words delicate pieces of china. “An audience is nice and – well, I always want to do a good job for them, of course. But sometimes it’s nice to know there’s just one person you’re performing for. That’s when I think I really give it my all.”

I felt the tears return to my eyes, although this time they were of elation. He wanted to perform just for me. Now that was really something. I felt a flush of shame overcome me thinking of how I had spent the last hour trying to make him jealous. “Really, John, I…I must have been a little flippant when I saw you. Just all over the place.”

“I understand,” he said, but he couldn’t veil his despondency. “It’s very overwhelming, this kind of thing. I should have prepared you better.”

I leaned in closer to him, speaking adamantly. “When I tell you I simply couldn’t have enjoyed myself more – Robert was right, I really was falling out of my seat.

The tenderness on John’s face split. He looked out at the mountains. A breeze traipsed through his hair. “I have to warn you, Julia. You can have your fun with Jimmy and you can have it with Robert too, if that’s what you want, but if you ever even look sideways at Bonz, Pat will have you drawn and quartered,” he said with an empty chuckle.

I stared at him in shock. This was clearly meant to be a joke and I found it lacking any humor whatsoever. “My god, you must think I’m a whore,” I muttered.

John’s eyes widened. “No, not – not you, not – we – us. Me and the –” he stuttered through words. “That’s not at all what I meant.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

John sighed. “Alright.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. “He was just keeping me company.”

John hesitated. “Right.”

“Just like Margaret was keeping you company, isn’t that right?”

“Her name is Peggy,” he corrected cautiously, but it never could have been cautious enough.

“That’s got to be short for Margaret, hasn’t it? It doesn’t say Peggy on her birth certificate.”

John’s mouth dropped open and his eyes darted over me, examining my face and my posture to know what to do next. “Probably not.”

“Yes, probably not,” I echoed. I flicked the bands of eyelashes off the railing into the water. “Well. You two will have fun, won’t you?”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Julia.”

I tried to smile. “What?!”

“You know, I’m not –” John stopped short. “I don’t even know why I’m having this conversation with you.”

“I just said you’ll have fun, that’s not anything –“

“I know what you’re implying and I don’t like it.” His teeth glinted in the moonlight, blinding me as he spoke.

I guffawed. “Oh, come on, don’t be daft. You two have been pawing each other all night. You could blow her over like a feather if you wanted, so –“

“What about you? Are you going to go chat up Rory Gallagher again? Emerson? Or have you not gotten tired of being Robert’s hanger-on yet?”

Fury flashed through me. “Hanger-on? I’m his guest.”

“I meant it in the more literal sense,” he spat back.

I felt a wave of nostalgia for our early days of constant animosity. “We’re just enjoying each others’ company, why are you so –“

“He kissed you for god’s sake.”

I laughed. At least that stupid kiss was good for something. “I don’t know why you’re so concerned since you’ve got Peggy ready to take you into the nearest corner and get your pants ‘round your ankles.”

“It sounds like you’re jealous,” John answered back quickly, plainly.

“Jealous?” I scoffed.

“Yes,” he replied, dragging out the vowel. “Jealous.”

“What? No, that’s –” I swallowed the lie. “If anyone’s jealous, it’s you.”

“Yes! Obviously,” he answered in a loud, exasperated voice.

I drew back in surprise. I couldn’t quite process if he was being facetious or not.

John’s eyes jumped away to the ground. His mouth moved to speak, but he shook his head, turned away, and ran his hands over his face.

“What?” I asked meekly.

He let out a sigh of frustration before dropping his hands and staring out again at the water. The reflection of the moonlight emphasized every contour of him I had ever admired, the peaks of his cheek bones, the valley of his cleft chin, his sorrowful eyes, the distinction of his nose. “Obviously, I’m jealous,” John said mutedly so only the moon and I could hear him.

I was at a loss for words. “How could…you came in with her, you had –“

“She asked if I could introduce her to Robert and I said yes,” John cut me off, finally returning his gaze to me. His eyes were unflinching, stolid in their truth yet wavering with honesty. “And when we walked in, he was whispering in your ear and pulling at your skirt and you barely wanted to look at me so what was I supposed to do?”

Desire makes us all a fool. It thrives on not living up to our expectations so many times that when it finally does, it's hard to believe. I had tricked myself into believing John’s darkness, his looseness with women, his former cruelty toward me. I couldn’t help but laugh at my folly. It echoed off the pane of the water before us. A tear let itself free down my cheek; I whisked it away before he could see.

“For fuck’s sake, Julia. I played a song for you,” John murmured, drawing nearer to me.

I leaned away nervously. “I know, but I – I thought you two were together. I panicked.”

John was so close to me now, watching me. Waiting for my truth to meet his.

“It was just to make you mad,” I confessed. “And it went too far, I know it did, but I was so –”

“Jealous?” John interrupted with a playful, knowing look.

I blushed and nodded. “Yes. I was.”

Triumph spread across his face.

“Oh, don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” John’s smugness increased.

I rolled my eyes. “The smarmy ‘I-knew-it’ smile. As if I’m not already…”

We were so close to one another. Not touching, faces idling nearer and nearer with each passing moment. Our bodies, leaning up against the railing, in parallel, eager to feel one another. To finally know.

“Julia.”

His lips around my name, like taking a bite of an apple that is crisp and luscious, sounded better than it ever had, looked more beautiful in the glowing night. Mauve, swollen.

“Come here.”

Whether John reached for me or I reached for him would be a question for the rolling waves, for it happened so quickly and so desperately, that all I truly remember is the relief of his lips on mine as we languished into a long kiss.

We were dear to one another, that much was certain from our unyielding tenderness. John’s hands clutched at my back and waist; his lips were soft and poised, but sent a riptide through me. I was swept away by the feeling of the kiss in every aching part of my body. I clung to him, arms around his neck, hand rushing through his burnished locks of his hair.

A first kiss between those who have yearned for one another is a miracle. Unfathomably gentle and passionate at the same time. The first kiss has to be just that, the first, and even if it is the most wonderful kiss of a lover’s lifetime, it must end. And this one was no different. It gradually ebbed, our lips parting, but our closeness uninterrupted.

“You’re so beautiful,” John murmured. His words aspirated onto my lips. “So, so beautiful.” He pressed a kiss against my jaw and I squealed with delight and buried my face in his hair. His scent was wonderful, the perspiration, the hints of aftershave and marijuana.

I would never let him go. I was convinced. No one could ever unlatch me from him. Every curve of his body fit exactly into mine. How could I not try and make that my home?

“Julia.”

I swooned at the sound of my name again, softening into his arms even more than I thought possible. “John,” I said. It tasted so sweet in my mouth.

Something had changed in his eyes. What was once hidden had risen to the surface. A look of adoration I had never seen reflected in the glossiness of his eyes, all of his attention undivided on me. I’d seen that look before when he watched the girls. I wonder if he’d given it to me before when I wasn’t looking. “What is it?” I asked.

John took a shaking inhale and hardened his jaw, determined not to let cowardice overcome what he needed to say. “Julia, I feel…so much for you.”

I beamed.

“And I’m terrified,” he sighed.

I tucked a wilted lock of his hair behind his ear and rested my hand on his cheek. He leaned into my touch, eyes fluttering shut. “I know it’s complicated,” I whispered.

John nodded. His lips nudged against my palm. Beautiful, sanguine lips.

“But there’s no…no rush…” I went on. I put a hand against his chest, the thud of his heart acute and steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He squinched his eyes open. “S’not just because of contractual obligation, is it?”

I laughed loudly, head hanging back, the moon bathing me in her glory. “No, but that certainly helps, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know, I thought Gallagher really had you there and I’d be in the market for a new nanny,” John drolly attempting to be humorous, but an edge of heartache still there.

We both were quiet, remembering the crossfire of envy that had run us ragged.

I grasped John’s biceps. There was a covert strength in his muscles that I had only felt in our embraces of comfort over the past few months. “We’ll be slow,” I murmured.

John’s lips transformed into a smirk. “Oh, Julia. I don’t know if I can be slow.”

My breath caught in my chest.

“After all the thinking I’ve been doing about you,” he said, words laced with wantonness. “How could I be slow?”

I didn't have moment to speak before he kissed me again with such force I felt he could devour me. There was no withholding desire now under the guise of gentleness. This was hot and primal. John’s tongue grazed my lower lip and I invited him inside with an unexpected whimper. He pulled me tighter to him, his hand bunching up the fabric of my dress at my hip, trying to restrain himself. I could feel him below, solid and throbbing. My mind raced with thoughts of needing him. I didn’t know if I could wait until we got back to shore to have him.

Abruptly, we were cut short. “Fucking finally.”

John and I jerked away from each other, utterly and entirely, turning to find Richard across the deck. He smiled pleasantly and waited for one of us to speak, but we were silent. Caught in something that was both so sure and so unsure at once.

“We were just…” John attempted.

“Yes, just…” I swallowed.

“Right, just…” Richard mimicked us and then rolled his eyes. “Hate to interrupt you just-ing about, but Julia has to get back to the hotel.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Something about plasters. Bonzo sent a dinghy to get you.”

I went pale. “Oh god. I took the plasters,” I muttered and swiped my purse from the ground.

“The plasters?” John asked.

I opened the purse and showed him the contents. “The plasters for Kiera, I took all of them and she’s probably a wreck.” I could have kicked myself for forgetting such a simple thing. I imagined her wailing her head off while her sisters buried their heads under their pillows and Pat and Bonz tried to haplessly cheer her up. I made my way toward Richard. “Where’s the boat?”

John followed at my heels. “I’ll go.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s my fault,” I replied.

“No, no,” John said and cut off my path to Richard. “It’s your night off, I’ll go.”

I shook him off and moved to the railing, trying to determine the best way to scale it. “You stay, enjoy yourself and everything will be fine, I promise.”

“Julia, there’s no point in me being here if you’re not.”

“Well, there’s no point in me being here if you’re not,” I echoed.

“Do you two even hear yourself when you talk? Christ,” Richard groaned. “Come on. Boat’s this way.” He started off down the corridor.

John and I looked to one another. “I guess we are morons,” he said with a shy smile.

“You might be,” I retorted playfully. “But I’m not.”

He grinned and pinched my waist before taking off ahead of me to follow Richard.

We rushed down the length of the boat. I had forgotten about the thrall of Montreux in the short time away with John. People everywhere, drunk dancing, chattering, finding dark corners for devious delights. It overwhelmed me. I couldn’t believe I had just been a part of it. Now it was like a waking nightmare.

John reached back for my hand, sensing my discomfort. That gesture alone washed away all my fears. I took it and let him guide me through the throng to where the skiff floated just off anchor, manned by a crew member.

“Would you apologize to Peggy for me?” John said to Richard before we climbed down into the boat.

“Don’t think she’s too worried about you, mate. Last I saw, she and Robert were going below deck,” Richard replied, clapping him on the back. “F’ya catch my drift.”

So Miss Peggy had had her eye on Robert. I had to giggle.

John climbed down first into the dinghy, miraculously graceful given the height of his platforms, and then helped me in too. The boat swished beneath us uneasily and I fumbled for a grip on the edge before sitting down.

The crumply motor revved before the skiff set off across the placid lake toward shore. The freshwater spray splattered up into the boat, landing like confetti against my skin. And as we pulled away from the yacht, the world got quieter and quieter until all I could hear was an electrified rendition of ‘Moon River’.

John and I sat with our knees jutting into one another. He was focused on the shore, a crease of worry in his forehead. We had been so caught up in the moment that the idea that Kiera was suffering. And while the ride itself wasn’t a long one, it was much too long for a worrying father (let alone John who seemed to worry as if he was salaried to do it).

“I feel like such an idiot,” I muttered to myself.

John raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The plasters in my bag, of course.”

He smiled solemnly and put his hand on my knee, thumb moving back and forth for comfort. “Perhaps we need to wean Kiera off of bandages. She’s a raging addict.”

I giggled and put my hand on his.

As the skiff approached the dock, I could make out the silhouette of a man dressed in a bathrobe pacing back and forth. Broad, tall. Bonzo. Once the boat was in striking distance, he practically pulled me out by the arm. “Thank god you came. She’s mental.”

“You don’t mean to tell me that the only bandages in Montreux are in my purse, do you?” I asked.

“Yours are the only ones with stars on ‘em,” he replied. “And that’s what the queen demands.”

“Is that my robe?” John quickly interjected.

Bonzo grunted in response.

We made it back to the hotel and up to the suite in record time (I had the blisters to show for it the next day). Pat greeted us at the door and was pleased as punch to see that John accompanied me. “She’s in your room, John. Tammy and Cindy wouldn’t have been able to sleep otherwise.”

“I’ll go check on her,” John said.

I handed him my purse. “These are all I have left, so be sparing.”

“I’ll try,” he sighed and then went off to go check on the problem child.

Bonzo had immediately collapsed on the couch in the sitting area and thrown an arm over his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was already asleep, but I wouldn’t have been surprised.

“I’m so sorry I forgot about the bandages. Don’t know how it slipped my mind.”

Pat stared at me. Even though her hair looked like she’d been pulling it with frustration, she smiled. “So. How was it?”

A part of me wanted to spill my guts and go absolutely giddy with her about the evening. However, I hesitated. I knew that my attraction to John was complicated, but I had been so focused on getting to this point, I hadn’t conceptualized what that complication looked like in action. The girls would always come first, that was a given. And with the girls would always come the echoes of Mo. Grief and loss were implicit to John. And if John and I were going to keep moving forward, however slowly, grief and loss had to be implicit to me. I could not spoil this with speed.

“It was…the show was good. We had a nice time,” I said, inflecting my voice with disappointment.

Pat raised her eyebrows. “Nothing happened?”

“Not like I’d have hoped. But it’s alright. You know,” I turned the subject. “I met Rory Gallagher. He brought me a drink. I think he might have liked me.”

“Well, that’s good, but…” she was not as distracted as I had hoped. “I’ll work on him a bit more.”

I shook my head. “Pat, it’s alright. Really.” I felt bad lying, especially when she had invested so much into our coming together. I felt as though what was budding between me and John was like an orchid and orchids can be so easily overwatered. It needed space, time, and no prying eyes (at least none more than Richard Cole). “I’ll call you when we get back home and I’ll tell you everything. But you all should kick off,” I added with a nod toward her husband who was snoring on the couch.

We said our goodbyes and I said my thank yous. She deserved to know the fruit of all her effort, especially after putting up with an inconsolable 5-year-old. It would just be a very delayed gratification.

After they had gone, I crept toward John’s room. I could hear Kiera’s little, tear-stained voice lamenting quietly and then John responding with the utmost soothe. I peeked inside the room: she was curled up in the very middle of the king-sized bed as John smoothed out a bandage on her knee.

“Oh, good, you’re alive,” I said teasingly to her.

“Barely,” she moaned and covered her face with her hand. “Daddy didn’t kiss the bandage.”

I gasped. “You didn’t kiss the bandage, John?”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he apologized, trying to stifle a laugh.

“It’s the most important part,” she moaned. “It’s the magic.”

John looked over at me with an amused smile. “It’s the magic, is it?”

“The best kind,” I replied and walked over to the other side of the bed. “But it’s okay, we can put the magic on after.” I kissed my fingers and put them gently against the fresh bandage. “Better?”

Kiera extended her aching leg, rolled her ankle around, and then sighed contentedly. “Yes. Much better.”

John ran a hand over her forehead and through her strawberry hair. “Now, you need to get some rest. Alright? Traveling tomorrow. Going to be a very long day.”

She yawned, “Alright.” She buried herself further into the bedclothes. “Can I stay with you tonight, Julia?”

“This is Daddy’s bed, Kiera,” John corrected.

“Daddy…can I stay in Daddy’s…” she was already nodding off, quite dearly. Her glossy, ruby lips hung open.

“Yes, I suppose I have no other choice,” he muttered and glanced up at me.

Kiera reached for his hand; it was uncanny how small hers was when amidst his long fingers.

I lingered on that image a moment to burn it into my brain. “I’ll go check on the girls. Goodnight, you two.”

“Goodnight, Julia,” Kiera slurred loudly, dwarfing John’s quieter goodnight to me.

Our eyes locked briefly. I would delay my gratification as well. I would take this night at face value. There was something. Something clear and spoken to. I couldn’t waste another moment questioning it.

I barely made it a step out of the room before I heard the door hinge keen open again. “Julia, your purse.”

I turned back to find John holding out my white beaded purse. “Oh, thank you.” I took the purse in my hand and immediately felt him tug back on it, drawing me into his arms in, his lips to mine one last time. My knees weakened, my body slack. If only I could take him into bed with me.

John drew away, nose nudging my cheek. “You’re right. That is the best kind of magic.”

From inside the room, Kiera called for John, a plangent voiced, “Daaaaaaddy.”

“We’ll talk when I’m home,” John hurriedly said.

“Yes.”

“Music. Gin.”

“Whisky.”

“Champagne,” he said with a flourish.

“I can’t wait,” I said and touched his dimpled cheek.

“Daaaaaddyyyyy.”

“Coming, darling,” John called over his shoulder and then looked back to me once more. A smile on his face so youthful and free. “Alright. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

One last kiss before we released one another; John slipped back inside the room. I could barely believe that the night had turned out like this. Not just a kiss, but several, with much more hope, even promise of more.

Music. Gin. Whisky. Champagne. An incantation. Magic. The best kind of magic.

tag list: @jimmys-zeppelin, @calico-skiess, @kari-12-10, @grxtsch, @edal-weis, @ritacaroline, @kyunisixx, @salixfragilis, @rebel-without-a-zeppelin, @jimmypages, @dollyvandal, @cassiana-on-dark-side, @thepinklovewitch, @babylennox777, @faisonsunreve, @sastrugie, @matty-heally, @seventieswhore, @raptorcat1960, @jimbypage, @thes0ngremainsthesame, @mayspringcome, @barrettavenue (always open for additions 💋…and let me know if I missed adding you)

#john paul jones #led zeppelin #fanfiction #wildflowers #wf #Julia Morgan #jimmy page #robert plant #john bonham #Pat bonham #Richard cole #Rory Gallagher #Montreux #Keith Emerson #<- a small appearance

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galacticgraffiti · 2 years

Text

☽⭒ Above the Skies ⭒☾

Welcome to a series about my OC Minretesh's crew on board of their ship, the Anak! Minnie started out as a supporting character for Eya's story, but the whole thing gave me some ideas, so here we are.

Please stand by to meet: the crew of the Anak! (This is the finale of my Star Wars OC Celebration Week. I hope you enjoy!)

Rating: General Wordcount: 4.2k Warnings: None. Just found family bickering and some angsty-ish thoughts amidst all the sweet chaos.

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Chapter 1: The Crew of the Anak

Coruscant. Loading Dock No. 23-W 20 BBY

“When do you think the Captain’s coming back? We were supposed to leave like, half an hour ago.” Tiv nervously paces up and down in the lounge, her trouser leg catching on a dainty leaf that overhangs the border of the terrarium.

“Careful,” Hanto says mildly, her red eyes betraying nothing but a deep, calm affection.

“Sorry,” Tiv mumbles, but does not stop pacing. She keeps away from the plants though, a fact that Hanto appreciates.

Hanto sighs deeply. It’s unlike the Captain to be late for takeoff. Usually, Minnie takes care to be on time, especially when the… merchandise is of sensitive nature. Being late means trouble fitting into the flight schedule they signed the ship in for, and the schedule on Coruscant is always crammed as it is.

“Where’s your twin?” Hanto asks, adjusting the fabric that covers her bald head.

“Wanted to take inventory,” Tiv shrugs. “Again.”

Tiv plops down into the lounge chair, her fingers drumming an unsteady rhythm on her pale knees. The faintest hint of green smoke wafts around her fingertips. Hanto doesn’t comment on it. Tiv does not particularly like being reminded of the dark magic that lives within her.

Hanto takes a drag of her pipe, enjoying the sweet and tangy smoke that fills her lungs. She should have guessed Temper was down in the hold.

Taking inventory sounds like Temper. They are meticulous, though their system of organisation is not one anyone aside from them would understand - a fact that has gotten them out of more hairy situations than the Captain would ever admit.

Minnie is a smooth talker, but it is Temper’s insane inventory lists have saved them more than once - most customs officers are far too lazy to grapple with the logic of lists written on ancient flimsi.

It’s a loophole in the organisation of the Republic. It’s not illegal to handwrite inventory instead of type it up on a datapad. No one does it, but it’s not illegal. Temper likes things done a certain way, and since it’s not illegal there’s really nothing anyone can do. Sometimes Hanto wonders if they will single-handedly be responsible for a galactic decree forbidding handwritten inventory lists. Judging by the looks some of the customs officers have given them, they just might be.

Tiv is still drumming on her thighs when Temper’s horned head peeks around the corner from where the stairs come up.

Stairs. Hanto quietly shakes her head at the thought. What a luxury. Rarely any ship - let alone a smuggler’s ship - has anything better than ladders to get around, but the Anak is hardly a standard ship by any measure. A yacht, once designed for luxury but converted into a multi-species home among the stars. Hanto loves the ship with her entire heart.

She smiles at the pale Zabrak and waves for them to come in and join them.

Tiv jumps up at the sight of her sibling and runs towards them, stopping just short of crashing into them.

“You finally done, you paranoid hornbox?”

Temper shakes their head in quiet amusement and looks over at Hanto.

“Hm. We should have bought more provisions for this run. As is, it might get a bit boring to cook, Han.”

Hanto shrugs and smiles her most reassuring smile.

“We knew that’d be the case. We don’t have any space left in the holds, not with all the merch we’re hauling back to Florrum. Food wasn’t really a priority, I suppose. But it’s not a long trip, barely a week. We’ll manage.”

Tiv dramatically throws her hands up.

“We’ll manage? Han, you can’t do this to me. We’ve lived off of dry rations for weeks, and I didn’t even get to go to my favourite diner here because the Captain said-“ she imitates Minretesh’s long, soft vowels- “We can’t afford any delays this time ‘round. And now, who’s late? I could’ve been to Dexter’s and back seven times over by now.”

She shakes her head, but Hanto knows she’s not really mad. She’s exaggerating- she tends to do that. They have not lived off dry rations “for weeks,” it’s been barely two days since fresh food has been off the menu. And Minnie has a good reason why she is late, and Tiv knows it. Still, a nagging feeling sits deep in Han’s gut, but she refuses to let it take root. There is no sense in making Tiv even more anxious.

Minnie knows that Corrie. She’s fine.

Temper lays a calming hand on their sister’s shoulder as they plop down onto the sofa next to her.

“We’ll make do. Maybe we’ll have time to stop into a port on our way, pick up some good spices to give the food some variety, hm?”

Tiv wrinkles her nose, but leans into her sibling’s touch.

“Sure. Just make sure you don’t accidentally poison Hanto again.”

Hanto snorts when Temper throws their hands up in the air indignantly.

“That was one time! I would’ve never bought that spice if I’d known Duros were allergic to it!”

Hanto gets up from the floor to pat Temper’s horns as she passes them.

“I know. Forgiven and forgotten, my dear.”

“Where are you going?” Tiv calls after her.

“Prep the engines for take-off. I want to be off the ground as soon as the Captain gets here, we’re already running way late. Can’t afford to waste a minute or we’ll have to book a new time slot, which means-“

“- less profit for each of us,” Tiv and Temper groan in unison. “We know.”

“I know you know,” Hanto chuckles to herself as she climbs into the engine room. “The reminder still doesn’t hurt.”

She can hear the dulled voices of the siblings through the metal plating as she goes through her practiced motions. Sometimes it still seems so odd that these two should be related- the pale, chaotic nightsister and her earnest, cordial Zabrak sibling. Polar opposites at first glance, and yet one union when it counts.

They are an odd crew. Even pirates tend to pick their crews from their own species for the most part, and yet here they are- a Duros, a Zabrak, a nightsister and their Togruta captain. Sounds like the beginning of a long winding joke.

Hanto laughs to herself and pats the engine lovingly.

“Let’s have a little look at you, old girl.”

Upstairs, Tiv starts pacing again.

“She’ll be here,” Temper says calmly, inspecting the terrarium Hanto so carefully maintains. The Duros has tried to explain the uses of each plant to them, but Temper is much more interested in the soils the plants grow in.

Half their cargo hold had been full of soil samples when the Anak landed on Coruscant three days ago. Apparently, the Coruscanti Botanical Gardens were trying to expand their collection of endangered flora. The various types of earth, dirt, sand and even rocks had piqued Temper’s interest. How could it be that some plants were so very complicated in their needs and still managed to survive?

They had spent days on the holonet to research the topic while the stars of hyperspace had passed the ship by. Tried to talk to Tiv about how interesting it all was, how impressive that Hanto knew enough to keep the plants alive in the dead cold of space, but Tiv wasn’t a particularly good listener when she didn’t want to be, so Temper had eventually left her alone.

It had been lucrative, this contract with the city council of Coruscant (subsection Society for the Betterment of Plant Life and Biodiversity), but the real money had come in from the merchandise that was not stored in the cargo hold, but in the hidden compartments of the ship.

At least, half of those compartments. They held rare items, expensive items for collectors - some stolen, some stolen back, none of them acquired in entirely legal ways. That was where the money lay.

The other half of the Anak’s secret compartments had been filled with items of no discernible connection at first glance: some dirty holo mags, cigarettes, buckets of paint, a wild array of tattoo needles, and even a few books of various genres, Tookah feed, spices, high quality caf.

No items of particular value, nor prestige or rarity. Just… ordinary things. At least to civilians.

These were the items the Captain had taken to the recipients herself today. Direct contact was a rare thing in these circles, but these customers were different from the rest. They received a special delivery, as Minnie liked to call it.

Temper has been flying with her long enough that they know who these items are for.

The clone soldiers of the GAR don’t get paid, but there are other ways to make some creds to afford smuggled goods. Especially for the Coruscant guard, who has easy access to all kinds of gambling establishments.

Temper does not know who Minretesh’s contact in the Guard is - none of the crew know his name - but he can’t be the only one who orders from them by now. It had started small, just a few items here and there with their usual haul, but the demand has nearly tripled in the last standard.

The clones are desperate for the small luxuries they can afford. Anything to give them some semblance of a normal life and respite from battle, Temper supposes.

So yes, Temper knows who the items are for. They don’t really understand why the Captain would give up valuable cargo space to hold this low-value merchandise, but it’s not their job to question that. Not unless the profits don’t cover the mission anymore, but they do - by the Stars, they do. The half of the smuggler’s bounty Temper has been calling the “Good Half” in their head more than makes up for the low profit of the Trooper Orders.

In Temper’s experience, good connections always pay off, especially in the underworld and the gray areas of legality they move in. And Minnie has the best connections, which means the best merchandise, which means the best customers. Which means the best profits.

A hand on their shoulder jolts Temper from their thoughts. Tiv sheepishly retracts her hand from her twin’s arm.

“Sorry. I just- I had this tingling sensation again. Wanted to tell you. The one I last had when that crew of Zygerrians started shooting at us?”

“Ah.” Temper abruptly stands up, and starts pacing just like their sister did before.

Tiv knows the feeling can mean anything or nothing - she hadn’t learned enough of the Force to discern any specific visions when they fled from Dathomir. Still, she always tells Temper of her feelings, her blurry visions. She has been ever since she didn’t and regretted it bitterly. “Anything in particular?”

Tiv shrugs, playing with the strand of hair that hangs in her eyes, scrunching up her face in concentration. Green mist rises from her closed eyes, and Temper pinches themself when their heart starts to race. Nothing bad is going to happen. This is their twin, she would never hurt them. Never.

“I think Minnie is nearly here.” Tiv hums, her eyes twitching behind closed lids. “And I think something went… hm. Not wrong, necessarily. But she’s… she was surprised by something. Something went differently than she thought it would.”

Temper nods and presses a quick kiss to their sister’s cheek.

“Well done. I’ll go tell Hanto, you do all the checks on the controls so we can take off as soon as the Captain’s in, alright?”

“Aye aye,” Tiv sarcastically salutes, but she is smiling as she does.

There has never been any official discussion about who assumes the role of Captain while Minnie is gone, and so the title gets passed around to whoever has the least to organise at that point in time. Which, usually, regarding takeoff and landing, is Temper, though Hanto tends to overtake most of the Captain’s duties the rest of the time. After all, she has been with Minnie the longest and knows the ship inside and out.

Tiv heads towards the cockpit while Temper makes their way down to Hanto’s realm. Just as they knock on the doorframe to the engine room, the ramp hisses.

“Captain onboard!” Temper shouts at the top of their lungs. Raising their voice is not their favourite thing to do, but the comm system took damage a few weeks ago and Hanto has not had the time to repair it. It’ll be another thing to add to their very long to do list when they all finally get back to solid ground.

The shout triggers multiple reactions - a dull call from Tiv: “Ready for takeoff,” Hanto appearing in the doorframe, wiping her hands on her headscarf and mumbling about the darn comm system, and a dismissive wave from the Captain herself who has hit the button to raise the ramp with her full fist, sighing in relief as it seals with a hiss.

“Glad you have such excellent timing,” she grins before Temper’s arms wrap around her and squeeze her tight.

“Tiv was really worried about you,” they mumble into the Captain’s wine-coloured lek.

“Only Tiv, huh?” Minretesh chuckles and gently pats Temper’s back.

“She had a vision. Said something might’ve gone wrong,” Temper explains in a low voice. Minnie raises an eyebrow but shakes her head quickly.

“Nothing went wrong, exactly. We’re fine, the business is fine. There was just an… unexpected addition to the meeting.” Her pale blue cheeks tint a light lilac colour, and it takes Temper a second to figure out that the Captain is blushing.

They open their mouth to ask, but Minretesh shakes her head again, lekku twitching.

“Later. I’m sure Tiv will burst with jealousy if I tell the story now when she’s busy.”

Temper smiles. Minnie is right, of course. Doesn’t make the expression on her usually so nonchalant face any less interesting.

Minnie’s eyes flick to the doorframe of the engine room.

“Cap’n,” Hanto smiles, tipping an imaginary hat.

“Tunga behm,” Minretesh greets back with that same conspiratorial smile she always wears when she says those words. Temper has never figured out what they mean.

Minnie pulls Hanto in for a quick but heartfelt hug before they all head up to the cockpit together.

Tiv lets out a little scream of joy when she sees the Captain’s reflection in the glass, but remains dutifully in the pilot’s seat, her eyes fixed on the bustling Coruscanti traffic. As chaotic as she can be, she takes her job very seriously.

Minnie hugs her chair from behind.

“Welcome home, Captain,” Tiv laughs, navigating carefully towards the hyperspace port. Her eyes remain fixed on the lanes, but her mouth is going a parsec a minute.

“You gonna tell us why you were late? We were scared to death, to death I tell ya! You know how much I hate flying in the city, you know we have a deadline to meet - I’m not accusing you of anything, but by the Mother, Minnie, we’re late - you’re lucky Temper always plans with stupid much buffer time of we would’ve missed our jump window… Anyways, lemme just get us into the lane and you can take over-“

“No need,” Minnie smiles. “You know how to do the jump. You do it this time.”

That makes Tiv avert her eyes from the sky before her.

“Really?” Her eyes shine with barely contained excitement. It is rare Minretesh doesn’t do the jumps herself. Temper considers if it is something to worry about that she is giving away that responsibility now.

“Yes, really. You remember everything, yeah?”

When Tiv nods eagerly, Minnie smiles.

“Good. I’ll go change and be back in time to coach you if you need it, I promise. Once we’re in hyperspace we can meet in the lounge. We all need to talk about something.”

Hanto and Temper exchange uneasy glances while Tiv doesn’t even fully register the conversation, laser-focused on the complicated net of hyperspace lanes before her.

“Hyperspace. Lounge,” she murmurs absently.

Temper wonders what the Captain has to say.

Tiv’s heart is racing as she punches in the coordinates and hits Confirm. Florrum.

She’s been there before, of course, many times in all the cycles she has worked for Minnie.

Worked with Minnie, she corrects herself in her thoughts. The arrangements on this ship are somewhat unorthodox by many standards, but they work.

Minnie is Captain, but in most matters, her vote weighs no more than that of the others. They all get paid the same, and they all have a say in which jobs they want to take and which they will refuse.

No live cargo. That’s the one they all agreed on from the start.

Temper’s condition was that they don’t run weaponry, so they don’t.

Hanto dislikes death stix, so that drug is out of the question even though it brings good creds.

Tiv doesn’t care what the merchandise is, but refuses to take any jobs that are even close to Dathomir’s sector.

Sometimes, these conditions cost them a lucrative job, but in the long run, everyone is happier. Minnie is a good Captain, Tiv would nearly call her wise if she wasn’t so young. For some reason, wise is reserved for old women, at least in Tiv’s mind. Old, like the Mother.

She shakes her head and refocuses her attention on the hyperspace lane in front of her as a directional droid shows her where to join the queue.

Tiv groans in annoyance just as Minnie settles into the co-pilot’s chair beside her.

“It’s always the same,” Tiv complains. “You get kriffing stressed out about making the allotted time slot, and then you have to wait a fucking lightyear to jump anyways. Why do we even do this to ourselves?”

Minnie grins at the small tirade, shaking her lekku.

“Who knows? It’s a billion people planet, Tiv. I’m sure they’re doing the best they can. And the jobs hauling here always pay well.”

“Mhm.” Tiv scoffs and raises an eyebrow as she side-eyes the Captain. “Aside from the Corries, of course. That, we do out of the goodness of our hearts, aye?”

Minnie raises her hand, then sighs deeply.

“I wish I could say you were wrong.” She sways her head thoughtfully. “But those troopers… oh, Tiv, they have nothing. Can you imagine how awful that must be? Surrounded by millions of the same face as your own, no possession to call yours and yours alone? By the Gods, if I can do anything to help them I will. They deserve better.”

Her voice breaks a little, as it always does when she talks about the troopers. Tiv knows there is more to the story, but she never asks. Minnie will tell her when she feels like it. Sometimes, Tiv catches glimpses through the Force - dark curls, a tattooed arm. Dark honey eyes and a face far too young for the pain that is written on it.

Tiv pats Minnie’s arm a little helplessly.

“I know. I know they do. I just… don’t like the risks. All we need is one traitor-“

“That traitor would have to betray his brothers too if he wanted to rat us out,” Minnie interrupts her. “None of them would do that. They are loyal - if not to us, then at least to each other.”

Tiv is about to respond, but is interrupted by the directional droid signalling them to take their jump position. Her heart speeds up again.

“Shh, calm down. I’m right here. I know you haven’t done this often, but you know how.” Minnie smiles at her encouragingly. “If you need any help I’m right here. But you’ll be great, love. I know you will.”

Tiv’s smile is thin-lipped as she goes through the cycle of buttons and levers. Minnie watches her with her razor sharp eyes, but Tiv knows she doesn’t mean anything by it. Minnie just loves her ship more than damn near anything else in the galaxy.

“Ready!” she screams, and hopes that Temper has sat down in the lounge. They get hyperspace sick so easily when they jump. When she pushes the lever down and the stars shimmer into nothingness, Tiv smiles and exhales in relief.

Minnie looks at her proudly.

“Well done. Didn’t forget a thing.”

She activates the autopilot and motions for Tiv to come with her.

Temper looks a little greener than usual when they step into the lounge, while Hanto is calmly watering the plants in her cherished terrarium, her pipe locked between her sharp teeth as she puffs away.

Tiv sits next to her sibling, patting their back until they don’t look like they’ll throw up any second anymore, and waits for Minnie to start her speech.

Minretesh looks at the small crew gathered before her. Takes in the oil staining Hanto’s colourful headscarf, the ink that eternally clings to Temper’s hands because they refuse to use a datapad for writing. Grins at the expectation that’s so clearly written in Tiv’s face.

She clears her throat.

“Well… you all know we’re going back to Florrum, yeah? We’re gonna go see my uncle.”

Tiv grins, bumping her elbow into Hanto’s side.

“You think the Captain understands basic biology?“ She lowers her voice to a dramatic fake-whisper. “We all know that’s not really her uncle, right?”

Minnie rolls her eyes but has to laugh. Tiv does this every day Minnie calls Hondo her uncle, but Minnie doesn’t know what else to call him. He is not her father, but he is family. He has always been there, from the very start. A long time business partner of her parents’. He is not exactly trustworthy, not to anyone else - but to Minnie, he is. Hondo would never betray her.

Uncle Hondo taught her to fly, found someone to teach her how to fight. Took her with him on her first job. Gifted her the Anak (though she never dared to ask how he… found… the ship in the first place).

“Uncle Hondo,” Minnie says, smiling when she puts a little emphasis on the term of endearment, “apparently found a job for us.”

She can see the unease in her crew’s eyes at those words. They pick the jobs themselves, that’s been the deal from the start. They work with the client directly, not through hear-say and middlemen.

Minnie raises her hands appeasingly.

“I have told him we’ll listen to his proposal. That’s all. I’d never accept a job without knowing what it is, or talking to you all about it. We needed to go to Florrum anyways, so I thought we might as well hear what he has to say. I - we - owe him that much. We can still decline if we decide the job is not for us, yeah?”

Temper is the first to nod.

“Alright,” Hanto says, though she doesn’t look entirely convinced.

Tiv presses her lips together.

“Why didn’t you ask us before telling him we’d listen to his proposal? What if we didn’t want to?”

Minnie pauses. It’s not their usual way of going about their business, but…

“What harm is in a business proposal with no strings attached?”

Tiv raises her eyebrows.

“It’s not about that. I just wish you’d asked.”

Her sudden hostility takes Minnie by surprise.

“I’m… sorry,” she apologises, inclining her head in thought. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Tiv purses her lips and nods, but says nothing else.

“Uncle Hondo called me when I was already on the way back to the ship, I was already late and he said he needed an answer now, needed to know if we’d even be willing to consider it. He knows us, he knows our rules. I didn’t see any reason to deny him that.”

“I don’t mind,” Hanto says. Calm, reasonable Hanto. Minnie could kiss her.

“Neither do I,” Temper says, then adds hesitantly. “But I would prefer it if you asked us next time. If it was so urgent, he could’ve had his pick of anyone else. Your uncle has excellent connections. I wonder why he wanted us for the job so badly that he was willing to wait and see if we’d accept the job rather than asking someone he could be sure would say yes.”

Oh. Minnie hadn’t thought much about that, her mind still drifting off, the stress of the hurried departure only now settling down. Her thoughts are set on the lilac-skinned Nautolan, for no reason she could pinpoint, and it’s distracting. Minretesh shakes her lekku to refocus, and addresses Tiv directly.

“Are you alright with listening to my uncle’s proposal? If you say no, we’re out. Easy as that. This is an all-in or all-out situation, love. No one will be mad if you don’t want to do it, for whatever reason you have.”

Tiv looks down, seemingly considering Minnie’s words. Minretesh wonders if she is just imagining the faint hue of green wafting around Tiv’s head. She probably is. It’s been a long day.

“Fine.” Tiv says. “We can listen and see what he wants us to do. All I’m saying is… I have a bad feeling about this.”

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Next Chapter

AHHHH!!! It's here it's here it's heeeeere!! I know the wait has not been long for you all, but it has been for me - I'm so excited to finally introduce you to the cast of my first all-OC story. Some familiar (canonical and other OC) faces will pop up here and there though, so not to worry!

Feedback means the world to me, especially about stories that don't lean on canon as much, so I really do appreciate every single comment, kind tag, nice ask in my inbox etc. Kisses to you all!

@rescuethewretched @deewithani @thefact0rygirl @baba-fett @rowansparrow @twistedstitcher27 @ashotofspotchka @thebitchformerlyknownaskenobi @ladykatakuri @solidago-sempervirens @meabravo @corrabell @stcrmhond @shadesofshatteredblue @purgetrooperfox @tachyon-girl @amyroswell @palpipeen @crowbafett @certified-anakinfucker @rain-on-kamino @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @pinkiemme @kakashibabe02 @writingbylee

#star wars oc week #star wars oc #gala writes #above the skies #gala’s ocs #oc minnie #oc hanto #oc tiv #oc temper #togruta oc #duros oc #nightsister oc #zabrak oc #star wars #star wars original character #star wars original story

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alwaysthesitter · 11 months

Text

Random surprise starter for @hawkinsjournalist

He had been beyond relieved that his parents had liked Nancy, even though he really gave two fucks what his parents thought at this point. It just made it a lot easier, if only because it meant that on the rare occasion that they would ask Steve to join, he could ask Nancy to come on the Harrington family vacations. His parents tended to fuck off anyways and do their own thing, only caring to bring Steve to show off family photos with their son and also probably to alleviate their guilt of abandonment.

He knew Nancy probably wasn't the biggest fan of being around them with everything she knew, but she still remained civil towards them, the same way Steve did. He didn't know if his parents truly liked Nancy - after all, she didn't come from wealth and her own parents' struggles were often talked about amongst the adults of Hawkins - but he figured they were just glad that Steve was with a woman, hadn't gotten her pregnant, and that maybe it meant he could finally start the continuation of the Harrington family.

Of course that all seemed nice - Steve had told Nancy about his huge aspiration of having six little nuggets - but he also respected whatever Nancy wanted. They were trying this again after everything, so rushing into marriage wasn't exactly the top of his list. Right now, he just wanted to focus on enjoying his time with Nancy, away from all the bullshit of the Upside Down. He had been thrilled when his parents had allowed him to invite Nancy to Hilton Head with them, so they could use the private family yacht.

His mother and father had gone off ashore to some romantic dinner that didn't include him and his girlfriend, so Steve had decided to use this time to soak up some sun. Maybe he'd splash around in the lake if he was feeling up to it, but he had enough with lakes to last him a life time since one had been a portal basically to Hell. Laying back in one of the beach chairs on deck, sunglasses over his eyes as he rested a hand on his stomach, fingers interlacing with Nancy's beside him.

"We could go for a romantic dinner too, you know. If you want. Whenever we're on these trips, dad likes to pretend he didn't cut me off and let me use his credit card." He knew it sounded like the old Steve, and he hated that a bit, but - "For all the shit they've put me through, I think it's kind of deserved."

#[four puffs of farrah fawcett spray*/threads]#hawkinsjournalist

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sasuhinasno1fan · 2 years

Text

A wish for a different life - Adrien AUGreste Day 11

Short, but I’m on time! I knew this would be a short one and it’s a slight build up for the next part. I also thought to give a bit of insight into how Juleka was still akumatized. Plagg just wants his kitten but also wants him to be happy.

Camembert

Adrien wasn’t that amazing of a sewer. He’ll admit, for harder cosplays, he’d mail them to his nonna and ask for her help. Simple things, he’d gotten good at. A mini sewing machine came with him to every place after his dad got it for him and it meant he could sew while binging anime. He’d gone to very few cons, but enough to know that con crunch was a real thing. cosplay photoshoots were similar.

After the success of their Shugo Chara OC shoot, his classmates – and Marc who was now considered part of the group once he finally talked to Nath and they started their comic – expressed interest in doing another one. They decided to do OCs again, this time from Naruto, since it gave many options for people to choose from. With Marinette’s help, they were able to make a list of small things to make for their classmates. Luka was even going to join them on this, as a member of the Sound Village. They’d joked that he could be like Mitsuki from the Boruto series, though Luka already expressed distress in having to sit still to have white painted on his body.

Currently, he was waiting for Juleka to come over. She had decided to be part of Hoshigakure as a Star Ninja, since she felt the main ones didn’t suit her. He was working on her boots and skirt and she was coming for a fitting. And probably tease him about Luka again. Since he’d been akumatized and he said those things to Luka, she and Rose took every opportunity to playfully tease him, Alya being no better. He didn’t mind it much; Luka had definitely given him more looks and smirks than usual. It was when he bit at his lip piercing.

“God, pure thoughts Adrien. His sister is coming over.”

He was trying on his own pants when the intercom went off and he let Juleka upstairs.

“Hi. I hope I’m not late. I had to go pick something up.” She said lifting the bag in her hand. There was a mild odour coming from it. Not a horrible smell, just…

“Is that cheese?”

“Camembert, it’s the cheaper version. It’s a good studying snack.”

Now, Adrien had been to the Liberty a fair number of times by now and there was something he noticed. In the fridge, there was always camembert. But he couldn’t for the life of him ever remember seeing any member of the family eat it. Even the one time they were studying in the sitting area under the pavilion and their mom brought out a charcuterie board – one client of her never ate on their yacht trip she captained for and the on-board cook told her to take so it didn’t spoil – it wasn’t there. Brie and gouda and a small pile of blue cheese, but no cooked camembert, because who would eat it raw?

There was another thing about seeing it. For as long as he could remember, seeing it made him feel a certain way. Not scared or nervous or anything, but there was this little thing that would be nudging the back of his head, hounding him like a fairy in Ledged of Zelda. Something he should remember or know. There was always a weird mix of feelings he had towards the cheese. Some annoyance over the smell, but also, the weird feeling of safety? He had no clue why. His parents didn’t really eat it, preferring Italian cheeses, nor did anyone else in his family. He had it a few times with friends, usually they had it during sleepovers if they were feeling expensive, though it tended to only get eaten halfway unless it had certain things on it.

So why did something as simple as cheese make him feel this way?

“You ok?” Juleka asked, her dark eye staring concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You remembered to get the headband from Marinette? You left your shirt here so we could do a quick cosplay check, finalize things?”

______________

Plagg held the oversized cracker as Juleka lift the cover for the cheese dish. The scent of camembert was mingled with garlic. To be honest, he preferred it plane but the siblings couldn’t stand the smell in their cabin. He looked over at Tikki, who sat on a box from Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. She rubbed a paw on the logo, one that Marinette had designed herself. Before, he knew Tikki had been encouraging Marinette as she worked on it for the Patisserie’s new upgrade. This time, Marinette did it alone but it still was special.

“Not hungry?”

He looked at his holder. Most of his holders had been male so it was always interesting when he had a female holder. He remembered bits and pieces of Roarr’s cub, mostly from when she hung out with Adrien or from what Roarr told him. He enjoyed getting to know her now, beyond happy that granting Lila her wish meant he wasn’t with her. No, instead of Marinette saving Fu and Adrien performing an act of kindness in a small rebellion, there was Juleka and her brother, who’d walked with her to school to get bread from the Patisserie, pulling Fu out of the way of the car, close to calling the ambulance before he managed to give them the slip. Juleka was sent to school, Plagg hidden in her bag and Luka tried looking for him and eventually having to give up to get to class, where Tikki was waiting on top of his laptop.

It was different, he came out in his usual way, knowing he’d have to change it up a little but he didn’t realise how much. As much as Juleka lived for supernatural and horror stuff, the idea of being responsible for Paris in defeating Akumas terrified her. Luka was her usual cheering team, finding her and pumping her up to join him in saving Paris, but Plagg hadn’t been a big help. He acted like he did with Adrien, who took a decent load of his abuse for he managed to wiggle his way into the god’s heart because he wanted so desperately to get out of his home. Juleka had a happy home, with a massive support system and support when her anxiety kicked in. during picture day, he’d been a bit callous with his words and she yanked the ring right off. He left the box in the bag and Luka found him as Scarlet Bug. She had somehow managed to hide her identity from Hawkmoth when she’d been akumatized, though if he had to guess, she probably didn’t feel like Catseye to say anything until after they talked that night.

“my last holder, his home life wasn’t great and it took a while for me to see that. He had to beg to go to school, to live a normal life. I didn’t really get a chance to say goodbye to him. I guess I forgot that not everyone is like him.”

“Was he nice?”

He laughed, remember his kitten, the one who dug his way into his heart more than anyone. “he was amazing. Complained about my love of camembert but he still got it for me.”

That night, Juleka made the first one and while he knew she didn’t love the taste, he felt lucky that she did it for him, even after how he’d been. When he saw Adrien standing in the front of the class, he wanted to rush over to his kitten. He relished in seeing him rip into Lila without hesitation. He was happier and more open and free. He was living his life they way he wanted to.

But honestly, all he wanted was to just share his favourite cheese with his kitten, just one more time.

“Not really. Sorry I made you go through all that Blacky.”

Juleka rubbed at his head, covering the cheese again. “It’s fine. This one was about to go bad soon anyway. No use getting sick. I was wondering if you could tell us more about your holders? Since Fu still thinks only Luka should be trained?”

“I thought I got through to him during Syren. I’m trying, I promise.”

“Well, my last holder was an amazing musician. His father wouldn’t think so, but he got so happy when he played.”

Adrien was happy now. But did he wish he gotten to keep him.

#adrien augreste #adrien august

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abyssal-ali · 2 months

Text

her own elusive pimpernel

| Pairing: Percy Blakeney x Marguerite St Just | Rating: M | WC: 5.5k | Ao3 | Summary: Somewhat of an exploration between Marguerite and Percy after their wedding, when all the angst begins, to after the ending, where the fluff begins. |

Spring 1791

Percy stared blankly into the mirror in front of him, overcome with disgust at the news the Baron had just delivered..

“From this moment on, she must never be trusted,” he whispered to Tony. “I only pray that I might be able to hide my horror at her actions.”

The musicians began a dance tune, and Percy slipped from the Scarlet Pimpernel, scourge of the Revolution, to Sir Percy Blakeney, idiotic sweetheart of London. Marguerite approached him, a small smile on her lips.

He swallowed down the disgust, fixing a smile onto his own and taking his new wife’s offered hand.

~~~

Marguerite received the nod from the musician, alerting her to the couple’s dance coming up. She crossed the room to find her new husband, talking with his friend, Lord Dewhurst.

He looked at her strangely, delaying in taking her hand with an unusual restraint. Their dance was perfectly smooth, but he was stiffer than she’d ever felt, keeping his hands and body in their regimented places, not even stroking her with his thumb as he had done before when they danced. Why was he being so stiff, she wondered. She hoped it was only post-wedding jitters.

She herself was smiling brilliantly, not giving away her nerves at the thought of the upcoming wedding night. Did bridegrooms get nerves too, or was it only the brides?

The dance ended and they paid their courtesies to each other. Percy stepped away as soon as he could, greeting some friend or another of his. She didn’t even miss his warmth–she hadn’t felt it at all.

Was Percy coming down with a cold? That could explain his strange behaviour and unusual lack of warmth.

Marguerite turned to greet the guest who had called her name, with one last glance at her husband.

~~~

The carriage was readied to take them to the inn at the port, where they would board Percy’s yacht the next day to take them to his estate in England. Marguerite waved her goodbyes and climbed in, accepting Percy’s hand.

He settled on the seat opposite her, even though there was plenty of space for the two of them on her side, even with the yards of fabric making up her wedding gown. She hid the hurt that caused her. Perhaps he did not want to be teased by his friends, who were still gathered on the portico outside.

The carriage started with a jerk, and she grasped the edge of the seat for balance. Percy did not glance at her, staring out the window. What he could see in the darkness outside, she did not know. He didn’t even bring his habitual quizzing glass up to his eye.

She was starting to think that he was ignoring her.

Dieu, she’d heard from other women that men liked the thrill of the chase, that they grew bored once they’d trapped their wives into marriage, but surely it did not happen the moment the ring was on her finger.

She recalled the moment from only a few short hours ago. No, he had looked at her with such passion in his eyes. She was the best actress in Europe–she knew when others were acting. That had been no pretense. So what had happened to make him so cold towards her?

Marguerite cleared her throat.

Her husband continued to look out the window.

“Percy.”

Finally, he deigned to look at her.

“Yes, m’dear?”

She bit back a sigh at his flippant query. He was certainly a simpleton in her eyes at times, but never to the extent that he showed the public. He had promised she would find out what lay behind those guileless brown eyes once they were wed!

“You seem rather tired,” she said instead. “Is it long till we reach the inn?”

~~~

Marguerite breathed in the fresh sea air, tilting her neck to watch the small flock of gulls crying in the sky above. The voyage to England on the Day Dream had been pleasant so far; she had never been one for seasickness–or any illness, louange a Dieu.

However, she was in rather an ill temper at the moment. Her darling new husband had been steadfastly avoiding her–a rather impressive feat, for having such a limited amount of space available to dodge her.

He’d also been rather stupider than normal, making an absolute mess of the ropes and lines his crew had left out in an attempt to be helpful, among other things.

Well, Marguerite would like him to stop attempting to be helpful to a crew of sailors who’d manned this yacht many a time, and would like him to instead attempt to be helpful to his wife , whom he was on his honeymoon with , and perhaps pay some attention to her instead.

The man hadn’t even tried to kiss her! She’d kissed him when he’d shown her to the privacy of her room, more spacious and holding more thought put into her comforts than she’d expected, and he’d barely even kissed her back, instead heading immediately out the door when she’d stepped back, hurt at his distance.

His kisses before their marriage had always had a certain level of passion to them, igniting a burning in her that she was sure only he could douse. Now, nothing more than a single spark passed between them. He’d been such a gentleman during their courtship and engagement, which she’d found rather sweet, if a bit irritating at times.

It was one of the reasons men married, non ? She would have thrown herself at him if she’d thought it would make any difference, but she instinctively knew that would not close the distance Percy had put between them.

Shaking her head at her musings over her husband’s strangeness, she turned from the rail. They were almost at port, and she needed to change to make a good impression on her new country.

~~~

Percy released a long sigh inwardly as the walls of Blakeney Mansion appeared. Home at last. Somehow, this had been the most stressful of his visits to France that he could remember, and he’d not been close to discovery once.

The unknowing source of his distress alighted from the carriage, turning slowly to take in her new home. Percy felt himself wishing for her to be impressed by her surroundings.

“Welcome to Blakeney Manor, my dear,” he said, taking her hand. “Shall we?”

~~~

Summer 1791

Percy’s refusal to stand up for her, despite having just received the horrible news that she’d sent an entire family to Madame Guillotine, was the straw that broke the back of Marguerite’s well-restrained feelings. He hadn’t chosen the other acceptable course of action, either–comforting her upon learning that she had innocent blood on her hands.

His cruel words to her still rang in her ears. “So, m’dear, it would seem you found a way to repay St. Cyr, after all.”

Suzanne, her dear friend, clasped her hand between hers, bringing her back to the present.

“Oh, Suzanne, what do I do? My husband does not love me, and I do not know why.”

“Percy worships the very ground you tread,” insisted Suzanne.

“Once, perhaps,” Marguerite said dully. Had she lost it even before she could even truly call him her husband? When had it begun, why had his disdain started? “But now he hides from me in private and in public. I sense moments when I catch some fondness in his eyes…a look, a glance…”

A tear rolled down her cheek, unbidden. “Why does he no longer love me?”

~~~

Marguerite took Percy’s hand grudgingly, sweeping into the Manor with her head held high. He may not speak with her as if they were equals, anymore, but she would not let him make her feel inferior.

He followed her up the stairs, to her room. She did not think that he truly wished to spend time with her, but perhaps– he’d simply been stunned as well to hear of St. Cyr’s death? No, the disgust in his eyes when he’d spoken to her had been all for her.

“Good night, my dear,” he said cheerfully as she laid her hand on the doorknob. “Pleasant dreams.” He smiled, an ironic twist to his lips as if knowing she would not get any sleep that night, tossing in her bed at the thought of her bloodied hands.

He kissed her forehead simply, and that small gesture, after weeks of his ignorance except when absolutely needed, moved her to impulsively ask him, “Stay with me tonight.”

He looked as if he might accept, for one moment, then his expression closed and he gave a yawn that, even if she had not been the best actress in Paris, she could have seen was fake.

“No, I’m afraid I’m far too fatigued. Besides, I don’t want to disturb you…I have an early appointment in London tomorrow.”

Oh, how positively thoughtful of him. Anger beat fiercely in her chest as she opened the door, intent on shutting it in his face. Not that he’d particularly feel left out, since he hadn’t stepped foot in her chambers since she’d arrived, but it was the symbolism of the matter.

“Your tailors, no doubt,” she snapped.

“Bootmakers, to be precise.” He waved his quizzing glass at his leather-clad feet.

Her anger melted some, to disappointment, perhaps. “Oh, Percy. Where is the man I married?”

“Od’s fish, my dear, you’re looking at him.”

“No, what I see before me is a facade, some role you are playing; I don’t know why, but I am sure it is. You promised me that I would get to know the man behind the mask, if I married you.”

Had anything been real? Which was the role, the fop or the actor playing the fop? She could never tell which was his true face, and which his stage face.

No, the actor playing the fop had always been honest with her. He was still there, somewhere, even if he refused to let her see him.

“Well,” he said softly, blinking. “Perhaps there’s no more to know.”

She exhaled in frustration. “I refuse to believe that. The man I fell in love with still exists somewhere. I shall never, ever stop loving him.”

Percy looked at her, really looked at her, something she hadn’t seen from him in ages. He leaned forward slightly, and she dared to hope that he would finally shed whatever role he insisted on playing, even in private.

But then he recovered, turning away.

She watched him walk away, heart breaking as she fled into her chambers.

~~~

Armand was visiting, and Marguerite felt some small measure of happiness. The first man she loved was there, and still loved her, even if the second did not.

But then her brother broke the news that he was returning to Paris, despite the dangers it held for him. She could not survive losing him as well, and she turned to her silent husband, begging for his help.

“Oh, Percy, do persuade him to stay here.”

Percy chuckled lowly, unusual for his higher, effected tones he continually used in her presence these days. “What has Armand done to be damned to matrimony?”

His words sliced through what somehow remained of her still-beating heart. Stricken, she stared at his implacable expression, before gathering her skirts and retreating to the house.

God help her, she loved him still.

~~~

Marguerite stared at her dressing table, thoughts swirling throughout her mind. Chauvelin’s whirlwind of a visit that afternoon had completely muddled her head.

Dear Armand was working with the Scarlet Pimpernel. She detested the added danger that her brother was in, but she herself had described the unknown hero as ‘brave, honest, and compassionate’. She could not blame her brother for wanting to work with the man, and she was certainly proud of his own bravery.

Apparently all of London thought her to be unhappy in her marriage. Well, she certainly was not happy, but she was an actress, for heaven’s sake! Surely, her skills had not completely failed her in the few months of her marriage?

And then the dreadful man had propositioned her! The nerve of him, in her husband’s house and after he’d maliciously implicated her in the death of the St. Cyr family! She had felt some fondness for him, once, but it paled in comparison to what she felt for Percy, even when he was being a dreadful idiot.

Any remnant of fondness died when she discovered he was the one to send the St. Cyr family to the guillotine, naming her as informant and putting the final nail in the coffin of her love-dead marriage. Now the only feelings she had for the man were hatred and repugnance.

The real issue tangling her thoughts was what the odious man had left her with: a proposition of the darker sort, to spy on society through her guise as Lady Blakeney, to find out the Scarlet Pimpernel’s true identity. And he had used his proof of Armand’s heroic links to blackmail her. Her brother, now the only one in her life who loved her, or the masked man saving dozens of aristos’ lives?

She could not send any more innocents to the guillotine, purposely this time, any more than she could sacrifice her brother.

Percy’s form behind her reflected in the mirror. She looked up, an unconscious smile gracing her lips. He looked so very handsome.

“I apologize if I startled you, my dear.”

There it was, that cold, cold ‘my dear’. That term of endearment meant nothing when he dropped it casually, the both of them knowing that he did not truly mean it.

Her smile faltered. “I was simply daydreaming.”

He smiled back at her in the mirror, gently resting his hand on her shoulder as he complimented her.

Percy may not love her anymore, if indeed he ever had, but she still loved him, and she would treasure every kind word he gave her, if he gave them even half-sincerely.

This was why she had refused to fall in love with any other before him. The pain of love she had observed in others did not seem to outweigh the giddiness of the emotion, the desperation that would drive one to act in ways they were far too composed for, eager for any crumb of fondness from the one they had enslaved themself to. No, it was not for her.

Then this stupid, beautiful man had come and swept her off her feet, stealing her heart with his playful clumsiness. Now, she was the one forlorn and aching for a morsel of affection, and yet she could not bring herself to regret it or give up on him.

She had meant what she said, forever loving the man she knew he was, somewhere deep beneath the mask he donned.

~~~

The ball was in full swing when they arrived, trailing the Prince of Wales. Percy left her almost immediately, and she was approached by Chauvelin.

She still had not decided on her response, the weight of at least two lives hanging over her head, making her unable to think clearly. Percy had surely been no help, nor comfort.

Marguerite was relieved to find out that she had only to lift the letter off of Sir Ffoulkes, for the evening’s task.

Feigning faintness was nothing new, and she maneuvered Andrew into the small reception room off the ballroom. Once she had memorized the note’s contents and assuaged Andrew’s worries that she’d read it, she bit her lip in thought.

Now what was she to do? The words circled her mind as she thought of the best plan of action.

We are leaving tonight for France. Meet me in the library at midnight for your instructions.

She had half-suspected Andrew of being the Scarlet Pimpernel, but clearly he was only in league with the man. Lord Dewhurst, then?

Her husband’s friends were certainly rather suspicious. She could not betray the hero or her husband like that. What to tell Chauvelin…

The simplest and most believable action was to simply tell the truth. With bated breath, she informed the man of the note’s contents.

The clock said a quarter to twelve.

As soon as Chauvelin was distracted with his dancing partner, she headed off to the library. There was no time to waste.

The dimly lit room was quiet and still when she cautiously entered. She glanced around, but no one appeared to be there.

A board creaked and she whirled. “Who’s there?”

“You must not turn around,” a man whispered.

A small smile crossed her lips. She had reached the man in time to warn him, and she was now in his very presence.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I tricked Sir Andrew and read your note,” she confessed. “I came to warn you. Chauvelin knows that you will be here at midnight.” Because of me.

“You told him,” the reproach was clear through his whisper.

“I had to.” For Armand. “To save my brother. He threatened to arrest him unless I aided his search to uncover your identity.”

“Why do you do this now?” he sounded wondering, hopeful almost.

“I could never live with myself, knowing I was responsible for your death.”

“You already have the St. Cyr family to your credit, what is another life?”

“That’s a lie!” she turned her head. A curtain rustled behind her. “Chauvelin deceived me!” Telling someone, who might believe her, even if he were not her husband, was a relief she had not known she needed.

“I turned him down for another and he maliciously used my name to arrest the man, knowing I disliked him for what he did to my brother. But I could never have sent the St. Cyrs to Madame Guillotine anymore than I can send you.”

“If that is true, you are very brave for meeting me here.”

“I am a fool,” she retorted. “If Chauvelin finds out, he could rake Armand from me”

“I will protect your brother,” swore the Pimpernel.

“Can I trust you?”

“I give you my word.”

“I don’t even know who you are; why don’t you tell me,” she suggested. His quiet footfalls sounded closer to her now.

“A phantom, my lady.” He sounded like he was warning her away from him.

“No,” she breathed. “You are as real as life itself to me…You are so near, I can feel your warmth.” As warm as Percy had once been, before their wedding dance.

“Touch me,” she asked.

For a moment she thought he would refuse, but then the weight of a hand was on her shoulder. The same feel as the hand that Percy had laid on her same shoulder that very night.

Her hand came up to grasp his. Could it be-

The clock struck midnight.

“Chauvelin,” she gasped.

She turned.

No one was there.

With one last glance around the room, she stepped out of the window. Her act here was complete; the curtain could now fall.

~~~

“Tell her I love her. More than ever.”

As Percy strode aboard the Day Dream for his nighttime sail to France, the evening’s events traipsed through his mind, instead of his usual plans.

His dear wife had not been as vicious as he thought, sending an innocent family to the guillotine. She had been tricked, by someone she once thought was a friend.

Now, with her darling brother’s life in peril, she had chosen to help him anyways, proving her goodness. When she had revealed her situation, he had felt a great weight lift off his heart, swelling up with love for her in its stead.

He had never stopped loving her, but for a time his disgust at her actions had covered it. Now, he found, she was more lovely than ever, and a certain happiness filled him. When he returned, he could find more about her than before and love all that he found as well.

But first: the Dauphin and Armand.

~~~

“Where is Percy? I must speak to him at once,” Marguerite ran into the Manor, rousing the footman by the door.

“He’s gone, my lady.”

“Where on earth would he have gone in the middle of the night?”

“There’s a note for you, in the library,” he motioned at the room.

She snagged a candelabra and headed off.

It was even darker than the one at Lord Granville’s, but with the light from the damped fire and the candles, she caught the letter left on the mantel for her.

“The north country?”

Percy was eccentric, but he would never do something like this. What if his precious cravats were wrinkled because they were packed in a hurry in the dark?

“Ridiculous.” She glanced up at the portrait of one of Percy’s ancestors hanging above the mantel. The signet ring on his left hand had a strange pattern on it–not the one she’d seen on Percy’s ring.

She had seen that same pattern on the Scarlet Pimpernel’s ring–three small pimpernels.

The Blankeney coat-of-arms was scarlet pimpernels–oh, how blind she had been!

Percy was the Scarlet Pimpernel!

It all made sense once that small missing piece had been fitted into place. His trips to France, his strange behaviour, his silly rivalry with Chauvelin, his lord friends’ suspicious acquaintances…all a cover for his identity as the Pimpernel.

Oh, that foolish, wonderful man!

With a gasp, she realized where he had gone. She had to go after him, to tell him that Chauvelin knew–

She summoned the carriage for the Ffoulkes Estate.

“You’ll have your brother back alive–once I have caught the Scarlet Pimpernel. Think twice before you interfere again,” Chauvelin had snapped as he left.

Marguerite headed for Andrew. She had thought twice, and her answer was still the same.

~~~

Andrew had taken the news that she knew of his involvement with her husband, and her husband’s secret identity, rather well.

“He gave me a message for you when he left last night, my lady. ‘Tell her I love her, more than ever’, he said.”

A tear formed in Marguerite’s eye, but she let the sea breeze blow it away.

There were no secrets between her and Percy. She desperately hoped that they could have the marriage she’d dreamt of once they returned to England.

~~~

They arrived in Paris, and she learned that Percy had been imprisoned by Chauvelin and her brother was caught as well.

Both men were now in more danger than they’d ever been before. She demanded Chauvelin let her see Percy. Surely, he would have a plan, and she could help somehow. She still had connections, and at the very least, her acting skills and love for her husband.

The cell Chauvelin let her into was fairly large, a thin ray of sunlight shining on Percy’s golden hair, illuminating the grey, damp space.

He turned, adoration and horror mixed on his face. “Marguerite,” he whispered.

“You promised me alone,” she reminded Chauvelin sternly.

He left, “two minutes” his own reminder.

She stared at him, fitting her new version of Percy together as he stood there. Bravery and honour stood in front of her, and she felt a new surge of love for him bubbling in her veins.

“Oh, my darling,” she cried, running into his extended arms, wrapping her own around him.

He kissed her passionately, more than he ever had, seemingly feeling as she did, relief and hope and love.

“Oh, Marguerite. I wished so desperately to see you. Can you ever forgive me for doubting you?”

He looked so heartbroken at the reminder of the time he had spent mistrusting her.

“Oh, darling, it is I who must beg your forgiveness. Chauvelin told me he will release you if you give him the Dauphin’s whereabouts.”

Percy’s gaze shifted, and her heart sank.

“Tell them what they want to know,” she begged.

“My darling, you must not ask me.” He looked afraid…that she would refuse him after he said that. That she would turn and leave him, or implore the information from him, and he would willingly give it to her.

She took a breath. “Then we must get you out of here.”

He looked relieved as he considered her words. “I may have a way.”

~~~

Percy watched on in amusement as the plans he and Marguerite had made played out exactly as they had hoped.

The line of his men, his friends, aimed their rifles, firing at the target on the wall.

“PERCY!” The echoes of Marguerite’s screams wiped the humour off his face. He’d debated not telling her this part, so that it would be real enough to convince Chauvelin, but ultimately decided that his brilliant wife would have no trouble with that part of the performance at all.

Still, hearing her calling his name in grief, even faked, was difficult to hear.

“Sink me, I couldn’t agree more,” he interrupted Chauvelin’s smug victory.

His smile returned as Chauvelin’s disappeared.

~~~

Marguerite leaned into Percy’s embrace, staring ahead at the cliffs of Dover. As often as she could, she wanted to touch him, to reassure herself that he was really there, with her, unharmed. It had been terribly stressful, watching as he methodically and smugly took Chauvelin apart in their sword fight, even as it had been incredibly gratifying watching her husband play with him.

“They seek him here, they seek him there, those Frenchies seek him everywhere. Is he in heaven? Or is he in Hell? My own elusive Pimpernel.”

Percy stared down at her as she recited his verse back to him, a genuine smile on his face and love in his eyes.

“Sink me, the lady’s a poet,” he breathed, and then their lips met and his breath was hers.

~~~

The trip from the Day Dream to Blakeney Manor was much different from the first she had taken, with Percy by her side and his intelligent conversation to accompany her.

The time was not nearly long enough for her to completely figure out what was Sir Blakeney, Baronet and Wealthiest Fop in London, and what was the Scarlet Pimpernel, Hero to the French Bourgeoisie, but he was no longer hiding anything from her, and she could not have been happier.

She told him how she had realized his identity, and he stared at her with a proud smile on his face. “The cleverest woman in Europe does not do you justice by half, my dear.”

Warmth spread through her, and she knew that Percy had meant it when he called her dear. She’d been a little too preoccupied earlier to think too hard about the ‘darling’s and ‘dear’s he’d bestowed upon her while they rendezvoused in his cell.

“Oh, Percy, I do love you so,” she confessed, settling her head on his chest.

He wrapped his arm around her. “And I love you, Marguerite. Truly, I’m the luckiest man in Europe, to be loved by you.”

~~~

Marguerite’s maid closed the door softly behind her, leaving her alone.

She straightened her bottles of perfume on her dressing table, thinking. Percy and she had never had their wedding night, but now, with their renewed commitment to one another…

She’d been sheltered at the convent, but overheard enough at the theatre to understand at least the basics of the act of consummation. She would be no blushing bride, and she desperately wanted her husband.

If he would not come to her, she would go to him. Mind made up, she stood, striding across her chambers to the door.

Percy stared at her as they met in the hallway, his own door cracked open behind him.

“Marguerite. Is something the matter?”

“I was simply looking for you,” she replied, stepping closer until she was face-to-face with him.

“Ah, what a coincidence. I was coming to find you, my lady.”

She motioned towards his rooms. “Shall we?”

~~~

As soon as he closed the door behind him, she turned, wrapping her arms behind his neck. “Kiss me, Percy.”

And he did, the sparks they had shared now an inferno, spreading throughout her body, settling at her core.

She let her fingers trail down his neck to undo his cravat, tossing the starched cloth to the floor with an impatient flick. Her fingers continued their path to his waistcoat, undoing the buttons deftly.

His hand covered hers and he pulled away. “Marguerite-”

“I want you to make love to me, Percy.”

Her interruption caused him to swallow hard, any objections going with it. “Whatever my lady desires,” he said, bending further to kiss along her neck.

A strange noise escaped her, spurring him on to spread his kisses across her decolletage revealed by her nightdress.

He moved his hands off her shoulders long enough to shrug off his now-loose waistcoat, then they were back on her, skimming her side, her hip, her back.

They were everywhere and nowhere, and she felt like she was drifting away, only he was her anchor to earth.

She managed to work his buttons on his shirt and get it off him, revealing his very pleasing muscled torso.

She backed up, bumping into his bed, and he picked her up, setting her on the mattress. He sat beside her, bending over to take off his boots, but she slid off, kneeling in front of him, covering his hands with her own.

Her earnest gaze met his. “Let me.”

He slowly removed his hands, straightening slightly as she removed his boots for him. She reached for the buttons along the waistband of his breeches, having heard from other actresses what men enjoyed.

His hand covered hers again.

She met his eyes steadily. “Will you help me with this?”

Slowly, he pushed his breeches down, nimbly undoing his garters and stockings as well and kicking the whole ensemble off.

Nonplussed, Marguerite leaned forward a little, wrapping her hand around his length and gliding it up and down. She glanced up at Percy, smugly enjoying the look on his face. “I’ve heard men enjoy it when women put their mouths on them.”

“You don’t have to do anything you do not wish to, my dear.”

“But what about what you wish?” she retorted, licking curiously up the tip.

He jerked and she felt pleased, fitting her mouth over him carefully, not wanting to accidentally bite him. As she bobbed up and down, she attempted to take a little more each time, until the back of her throat refused to let her take more in. Her fingers stroked what she did not fit in her mouth, spreading her saliva to the very base.

Percy’s muttered praises cut off. She pulled back, glancing up to see if he was alright.

“More than fine, my darling Marguerite,” he assured her. “As to what I wish…” He helped her to her feet, then lifted her back onto the bed. “I wish to kiss my wife.”

Every touch of his lips sent tingles straight to her core, burning a path behind them as he moved over her mouth, neck, chest, breasts, even the inside of her wrists, making her gasp.

“Allow me to return the favour, my dear.” He moved her further up the bed, staying where he was so that he could trail kisses from her ankles to her thighs.

He shifted, lying between her legs so that his chin rested on her belly. “Are you comfortable?”

The vibrations from his vocal chords went straight through her. “Quite.”

With a tilt of his head, he licked at her core, one hand coming up to stroke through her folds while the other held her down, bracketing her hips. He worked his finger in her walls, then a second, rubbing until he found the spot she twitched and gasped at. The tenseness that had been building at her core released and she called out his name, pleasure suffusing throughout her body.

He grinned up at her, pleased. “Are you ready for the main event?”

She nodded, watching curiously as he entered her. It was a strange feeling at first, but made her feel so very complete, so close to Percy. She pulled him down to her by his shoulders so that she could kiss him.

“Je t’aime , Percy Blakeney, mon amour.”

He smoothed a hair back from her face before kissing her again. “Je t’aime tellement, Lady Blakeney.”

His hand came down to stroke her where they were joined, building up the tension again as he traced circles around her nipples with his tongue.

“Oh, Percy!” she cried, feeling a second release take over. He became boneless as well, collapsing by her side and drawing her into his.

“You were marvelous, my dear wife,” he praised, kissing her softly.

She returned it, throwing an arm over his waist. “As were you, my darling husband.” She kissed him again. “Let’s not stay in separate beds any longer, Percy. I quite like being here with you.”

“I, too, my love. As you wish, we will sleep together, as long as Fate lets us.”

LE FIN

#percy x marguerite #the scarlet pimpernel #perguerite #sir percy blakeney #marguerite st just #fic #ali writes

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