#Led Zeppelin fanfiction

[chromations]

"Nothing helps it. The weed is bitter, and gross, and tastes like a panicked high. The drink is sharp and prickly, bruising his heart of what he has. Drink, Robert, drink, cause it’s all so good after three or four. Hey, wasn’t that a song he’s heard off of Jimmy’s stereo?

Ah, and that’s the final punch. Because there is no more Jimmy for him now."

Title: All My Love (Talk to Me)

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Fandom: Led Zeppelin (Band)

Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant, Maureen Plant/Robert Plant

Characters: Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, Maureen Plant, Maureen Wilson, Peter Grant (Rock Music RPF), John Bonham

Additional Tags: 1977, 1976, Abandonment, Betrayal, Overdosing, Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Sex, Wakes & Funerals, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Men Crying, Miscommunication, Hurt No Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Unhealthy Relationships, they're both justified but the way they navigate it places them both in the wrong, Heroin, Cocaine, Loneliness

Stats: Published: 2024-11-18 Completed: 2024-11-18 Words: 6,754 Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

In the early week of August, Robert finds himself grasping at straws after hearing the news he's been dreading to hear. Karac's loss bleeds his heart anew.

Throughout his addiction, Jimmy has had multiple failed attempts at getting clean again.

Robert quits. Cold turkey.

This is a fic that I've written that holds a deep meaning for me.

[bijouxcarys]

The High Life (Robert Plant x fem!OC)

Masterlist

Summary: Set in 1979, our unnamed fem!OC, a star in her own right, spends one night out of many with an 8-year-long fling she hasn't seen in a long time, the Golden God himself. NSFW/18+, minors DNI

Smut prompts: #1 "Feel this? It's just for you." and #2 "Let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

Word count: 2.9k

Note: This went in a fluffy direction I wasn't expecting it to, but I kinda love this one. Might be one of my favourites thus far.

Tags: @celestial-dragoness @whothefuckisanja @strsmn @chromations @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @firethatgrewsolow @angrychicksposts @m-faithfull @callmethehunter (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!)

They met on a rainy day in Scotland. Kindred spirits of the most beautiful kind. Living to create, creating to live. If fate had been kinder, She would have crossed their paths sooner. But the fleeting moments in which they did stumble upon one another were enough in the midst of the chaos some would call the high life.

Both knew of the incessant fawning from a crowd of dedicated supporters, following their every move, no matter where they went. Both had long forgotten how many they had spent a night with on the lonely road. And both knew they could have any one of those flustered, breathless beauties formed in a compacted huddle outside that hotel in Glasgow.

Robert enjoyed her carefree nature, something she’d only nurtured into a heady personality since he met her at 19. Though 8 years had passed, and their meetings were few and far between, it felt like a lifetime of back and forth pining for a childhood friend. And here they were, darting into the hotel lobby together after having encountered more than passionate fans and hoards of paparazzi.

They were giggling like teenagers, hand in hand, as they found the nearest available lift, practically sliding into it.

“Press it, press it, press it!” she squealed, pushing Robert to select his floor as quickly as possible. 

“I am!” He rapidly pressed the button to the 5th floor. She had a grip on his shirt, impatiently waiting for the elevator door to slide shut so she could pull him into her, instantly connecting her lips with his. 

His hands flew up to her face, taking it between his palms to hold her in place as he kissed her back. It was the exact same position they had been caught in that triggered their cat and mouse chase from a few streets away.

“That was your fault,” she mumbled against his lips. 

“Was it?” He smirked, playfully nipping at her ear and encircling his arms around her. Pulling her flush against him allowed her to catch the hardness forming under his jeans, though it was an easy few layers of clothing deep. 

“Yeah, it was,” she breathed in his sandalwood scent. “It was your idea to stop at that off-licence for a pack of fags.”

“You didn’t seem to protest too much, darlin’…” Her knees weakened when Robert began his expert teasing along the side of her neck, lips gentle yet determined. Tip of his tongue tickling her skin. “Much like right now.” He chuckled, a little smugly, as she involuntarily lifted her leg to graze his bulge with her thigh.

“I didn’t think there’d be that many people, Robert—“

“Of course there would be, everyone was in town to see you perform tonight,” he pointed out, pulling his head back enough to look at her lovesick face. Pretty eyes beaming up at him, cheeks flushed from their exertion… 

She’s gonna look even better laid over my bed,

hair splayed around her head, 

whole body glowing a gentle red. 

Damn it, she even had him thinking in rhyme.

“And to think, out of all those people, you still want little old me…” he let out in a somewhat dramatic sigh. He already knew she was his. No matter how many admirers packed themselves into an arena to see her, it was a done deal if Robert was there. 

The same could be said for him. Whilst the past couple of years had slammed the brakes on his ventures, and subsequently the amount of gigs Zeppelin did, whenever she was around… he was done for.

“I’d be an idiot not to,” she whispered, feeling the lift come to a stop with a jarring shake. 

They were off. Like a couple of hyperactive greyhounds, they darted down the hall to Robert’s room, and soon enough, they were closed off to the rest of the world.

“Anyway, whose idea was it to abandon the car and leg it over here?” Robert continued the conversation, shrugging his jacket off and kicking off his shoes. She followed his actions, smirking at him.

“I believe that one was my idea—you try getting through that crowd just to get in a fucking car that doesn’t belong to you!”

He shot her a toothy grin at her energy, despite having run around a stage for two hours. Seating himself on the bed, he beckoned for her to join him, pulling her by her waist onto his lap.

“At least we’re here now,” he hummed up at her, nuzzling his nose into the low neckline of her blouse. He could feel it as her heartbeat picked up and her legs squeezed around his hips. “Just the two of us…” He pressed a heated kiss on her chest, before tugging at a button with his teeth. “You’ve got too many clothes on, luv.”

Biting gently at her bottom lip, she brought a hand up to slowly pop open the first button that was fastened, having neglected the top two after her show. Robert caught a glimpse of the lacey bra, the delicate material peeking over. His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, wishing he could claw his way through her jeans with his nails.

“You’re a tease, my love,” he sighed, eyes glued to any expanse of exposed skin in his sights. She was a goddess. An otherworldly beauty of nature. Nobody could blame him for forgetting the existence of every other woman out there, when she was in front of him. She was everything he wanted, and as time passed, he became all the more sure that she was everything he needed.

“Do you want me to speed this up?” she asked him softly, breaking him from his moment of disconnect. Always so willing to please… she’s perfect.

Shaking his head, he pulled her as close to him as he could. “No… just…” he paused, a certain vulnerability in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. He drank in the depths of her gentle expression. “…just stay there for a bit longer… please,” he whispered.

There was nothing off-putting about his demeanour. In fact, it was all the more alluring to her. Each time she saw Robert marked another layer of the Golden God persona shedding. This time seemed to unveil a man straddling the line between clinging to the past, and cannonballing into the future.

She liked it.

Giving him a warm smile, she nodded down at him, leaning forward to nestle her lips into the fair locks that curled and twisted over his forehead.

Robert held her there for a while, completely glueing himself to her body. Even through all the layers of clothing, he’d never felt closer to her, or anyone for that matter. His hands continued to caress her sweet curves, occasionally pulling her hips down to feel him beneath her. He revelled in the shaky sighs that fell from her lips, the knowledge of it being for him empowering each movement he made.

Eventually, the steady embrace became too heated to prolong. She had naturally begun a rocking motion, back and forth, with her hips, providing both of them with minimal, much-needed, friction. He finally peered up at her, eyes blown out with lust, admiration… hitting all the correct emotional buttons to trigger her yearning.

Then, he drew her in closer, simultaneously grinding his hips upwards and keeping them pressed together. She gasped through parted lips, eyelids hooding.

“You feel that, baby?” he asked in a hushed tone. “It’s just for you…” he proclaimed very earnestly, watching as her eyes widened ever so slightly. With a desperate sigh, he grabbed the back of her head to close the gap of heavy air between them, crashing his lips to hers in a searing, sensual kiss.

Smiling against his lips, her hands buried themselves into his windswept hair, curls intertwining with her fingers. She fell, hard, into his embrace, surrendering herself entirely—body and soul—to his being.

Robert took his time, delicately undressing her as if she were an invaluable gift sent from Heaven itself. He pressed kisses along every inch of her skin, worshipping the body Mother Nature had bestowed upon her. She’d never seen him like this, and it was a much welcomed switch up from the hormonal fucking they were so accustomed to by now.

He worked the pink nubs on her chest to a stiffened peak through hearty caresses with his tongue, lips, fingers, teeth… Her skin was almost completely covered in goosebumps at the care he took. It was like he treated every ministration with his tongue as a predecessor, a preview, for what it could do in other places. His bright blue eyes staring up at her as his tongue circled around her nipples, he silently demonstrated the movements replicated on her swollen pearl moments later.

Just like in his premonition, he had her stretched out over the bed, body in a state of desire—writhing as he feasted on her weeping nectar below. Every mewl, whimper, and gasp fuelled the fire of his longing.

No fingers were needed; he reserved them for groping at her chest, holding onto her hand, and running them up and down the plush thighs bracketing his head. He worked her up to an ardent release, her hips grinding up into his face as she pulsated against his talented tongue.

Now, he was over her, his broad, naked frame shielding her from everything around them as he gave her an intimate taste of her own honey.

“I hope you realise you’ve ruined me for everyone else…” she exhaled. He looked over her flustered face, the small amount of mascara she had on transferred under her eyes. She’d never looked more beautiful to him. And to hear this woman, out of anyone, proclaim something so profound to him sent him over the edge. It was that moment in which he realised… 

Once in a blue moon is nowhere near enough time to love you the way I want to.

“Well…” he started with a jesting tut, “let’s ruin ourselves for anyone else, then, my temptress.” He let out a breathy chuckle, moving to lay back against the fluffed pillows. Once again, he beckoned her over, offering up his lap, where his rigid, desperate cock layed prominent against his stomach. 

Once she was over him, straddling him in her warmth, he dragged his tip along her waiting folds, collecting her juices, the result of his hunger for her. She found herself glad he hadn’t used his fingers on her earlier; she always loved feeling the effects of his size, the slight sting of the stretch he provided. She loved his lasting impact on her, being able to feel it for up to a week after. It was her way of remembering their encounter, at least for a little while.

He hungrily eyed her body, focusing on the way her cunt soaked the head of his cock as he held onto her leg. With a steel gaze, locked with hers, he finally pushed himself upwards, sliding into her deliciously. They both let out heavy gasps, their union more intense than they had anticipated. “C’mere…”

She obliged, needily resting above him, his arms moving to wrap around her as he brought her in for another kiss. Using his heels for leverage, he made a steady thrust upwards, burying himself as deep as he could. He groaned against her lips, swirling his tongue around hers before breaking it to inhale deeply.

“I don’t know how I manage without feeling you wrapped around me.” Another thrust. “You’re the most perfect…fuck…woman on the planet,” he groaned.

An airy whimper tickled his lips, and she furrowed her brows as she took the pace he set, his cock sliding along her convulsing walls. The hand that splayed across his chest was the only thing stopping her from completely collapsing over him. “Oh, fuck… Robert…” 

He’d never get over the way she moaned his name, from within the depths of her soul, with so much fiery devotion. The way she arched and rippled over him, taking every inch of his cock, whining and whimpering just for him… it unleashed an unbridled energy. Every. Time.

“Lean back a little, baby…” 

Doing as instructed, she sat up and angled backwards, one of her hands resting on his leg behind her to steady herself. With her upper half leaned back, Robert took a hold of her hips and pulled them forward as he picked up the pace.

“Fuck!” she gasped, followed by an elongated moan when his cock reached so deep within that it kissed the spongy surface of her cervix.

“Doesn’t that feel so good, darlin’?” he rhetorically asked with a knowing smirk. “Can you feel how deep I am?”

One thing she could never have enough of was Robert’s pillow talk. His silky voice, the accent that had ingrained itself into her mind. It sent something fierce through her veins and snapped her into overdrive more often than not.

“Here,” Robert took her free hand, fingers wrapping around her wrist easily, and placed it on her lower abdomen, close to her mound. “Press down…” he softly instructed before resuming his harsh thrusts, grinding all the way up. He watched her face, waiting for the moment. A proud smile spread across his lips when her eyes widened. She snapped her head up at him with a look of disbelief.

“Bloody hell…” she sighed, daring to press down a little harder. And sure enough, very lightly, she could feel the movements of his cock deep within her. There was something so beautiful about feeling his thrusts from an external source, and it strangely made her feel even closer to him. Connected.

They spent a good while in this position, having quickly resorted to allowing her to ride him to her heart’s content. Hands on his chest, back arched, as she ground and bounced on his red-hot length. He loved seeing her like this. Wild. Free. In the rawest human form.

“So fuckin’ beautiful…” Robert panted and grunted each time she collided with him, the lewd slapping sound resonating throughout the room. Fingers gripping into her hips as hard as they were, she was convinced there’d be lasting marks—the thought made her groan under her breath. 

Eventually, watching her on top of him drove him over the edge. He had to have her. With unprecedented force, he flipped them over and took her his way, hands on either side of her head. 

“Bit impatient, love,” she chided up at him with a bright smile, running her hands up his fluffy chest. He felt his stomach flip at her pearly grin, the endearing charm in her every expression bringing him to the highest levels of ecstasy possible. Smiling back at her, he breathed heavily through his nose, willing his hips to take them both to the finish line.

“Do you have any idea how pretty you are?” he huffed through his committed thrusts, bordering on slamming.

“I-I—mmm—I might have heard you say it a few times…”

“Well I’ll say it again… You,” thrust, “are,” thrust, “so,” thrust, “fucking,” thrust, “beautiful.”

Her moans reverberated in her chest each time his hips met hers, and she felt herself edging towards her release. Her chest rose up and down, her panting becoming more and more audible. The familiar flutters around his cock told him all he needed to know. Bringing one leg up to rest on his shoulder, he held onto her, putting every last ounce of his energy into making his lover come undone.

“Oh God… please… don’t stop, Robert,” she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulder.

“Oh, I won’t, baby,” he shook his head, blowing some of his own hair out of his eyes. “Come on, angel,” he urged, pressing a gentle kiss to her ankle to counteract the pressure between her hips. “I need to feel it… need to feel you cum for me…”

She was so close. Just a little more…

“Don’t close your eyes,” he held onto the side of her face with his free hand. “Need those pretty eyes on me…”

She gazed up at him longingly, biting harshly at her bottom lip as he drove her home, sweat-sheened skin glowing from above. “R-Robert… fuck, I’m…” She couldn’t even force the words out before she was thrown off the edge of her coital cliff, back arching painfully as she clenched around his cock.

“Good girl… good fucking girl, shit,” he whined, mouth dropping open at how tightly she clung to him, inside and out. “Almost there, darlin’… your cunt always makes me feel so fuckin’ good…”

Breathlessly, attempting to recover from her high with Robert still relentlessly grinding into her, she stared up at him with teary eyes. She shakily held onto the side of his face, leaving him no other option than to meet her gaze with intense eyes.

“Please, Robert.”

“Mmm…”

“Cum inside me,” she begged.

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up, baby?” he growled with clenched teeth.

“Yeah…” she answered with a nod.

“Ah, fuck!” he groaned loudly, thrusts staggering as he let out a string of expletives, deep grunts that spoke of ambitious roars, and a faint wail from the back of his throat. He pumped himself dry, unloading every bit of his release deep inside her, in his mind solidifying her as his.

With untamed whimpers, he laid his head beside hers, still inside her, hips gyrating as a final attempt to make sure he gave her everything he had—as much as he was allowed to give. 

Their skin seemed to meld together in its tackiness, but neither of them cared. If it was up to them, they’d be having this moment every single night. 

Alas, fate wasn’t as kind, and feelings were meant to be locked up—he’d go home to his wife, sharing special moments with her in the high life.

[talesofbron]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Led Zeppelin Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant Characters: Robert Plant, Magnet Ward, Peter Grant, Jimmy Page, Clive Coulson, Ray Thomas, Mick Hinton, John Bonham, John Paul Jones Additional Tags: 1974, Recording, PWP, A little bit of angst, as promised the writing of trampled under foot, In My Time of Dying, usual apologies to maureen wilson charlotte martin and this time krissie wood

Summary:

Set during a recording session for Physical Graffiti. As usual, takes place in my canonverse, so Robert and Jimmy are Roberting and Jimmying. This is another reimagining of an old fic, which is also uploaded on here; the original version was written I want to say 12 or so years ago, and I wanted to take another stab at it. Not a super elaborate fic; mostly PWP, with some silliness, angst, and music thrown in for sport.

[antigonenikk]

when the levee breaks

summary: "It was a very touch-and-go thing whether Robert would even be in the group after the first tour, because he didn't quite seem to make it up to Pagey's expectation. At the time there was a possibility he wouldn't do another tour. That was the truth." -Richard Cole, Hammer of Gods

John realizes that while the band might not need Robert, he does.

pairing: gen, implied off screen relationships

[untilthenextencore]

Nights To Remember Pt. 1: Of Gods & Goddesses & Magick & Memories~...

Backstory: Summer 1973~. Jimmy & Dahlia had gotten married in the past year~. Some of the more territorial newer wannabe groupies are having a hard time coping with not just her continual presence on tour, but now Dahlia's new status as THE Mrs. Page~. Her & Robert's displaying their close friendship doesn't help~.

Their subsequent finding a friendly way to deal with their boredom amongst the goings on that the hangers on & wannabe groupies live for by escaping certainly doesn't help~.

Robert offers the escape~. He's always been a little in awe of Pagey's choice of girl both in general in the early days, but also in the form of his chosen one, Dahlia~. She is so familiar yet foreign to him it makes his head spin~. So worldly, yet down to earth~. A mix of city yet downhome that he might've chosen for himself if he had the chance~. But as far as he's known her she's been Pagey's~. Solidly, decidedly, faithfully Pagey's~.

Suffice to say, even in his happiest moments in the friendship he's conflicted~. Even though they're not cheating or going behind Pagey's back~.

But when he finds himself even moreso conflicted about the cloak & dagger aspect of their innocent little excursion, that he himself offered initially, he then finds the idea of Pagey finding out also somehow doesn't appeal to him~.

~

Ho hum. Another day. Another dollar. Another concert. Another party. Another night to remember. Until they forget it all in the morning. Or lose track of which night in the sea of "nights to remember" held the goings on their shattered minds remembered only fractures of at tour's end. Glittered & goggle eyed groupies frantically flipped over themselves to catch the eye of anyone who was anyone in King Robert's court. Or so it seemed.

True. Robert was holding court like he was king. One of four at least. But being in the middle of yet another tour - an American one at that - only meant one thing. Like the others he was left without a queen. Only one of their roundtable could however not lay claim to such a misfortune. The luckiest one among them. The wizard in his stars & moon suit himself. James Patrick Page.

No. Because as ever Jimmy had brought along his lady. Lady Dahlia-Maria Dominguez Page. The Lady who was a natural creative herself it seemed. She & her camera, while remaining discreet & unobtrusive, furnished some of the most intimate portraits of the band allowed. A few Peter even sold at the merch table, netting her a tidy sum of her own aside from being married to he of the led wallet and house of Tower.

Though she only released a few here and there. She too liked to maintain her own brand of privacy. Despite the wingding that was their wedding in Hampton Court Palace - of all bleeding places - in the past year, she really preferred a smaller do generally. Friends & family & neighborhood kin & no more. As was borne out by the smaller dos held in Mexico at her family's small yet palatial feeling compound in Jalisco that was something of an early childhood home for her & Pagey's place in England for family that could not swing airfare for a trip to the palace.

Which begged the question.

What the hell was she doin here?!

Not that he begrudged her presence itself. Not at all. Robert & Dahlia always seemed to get on rather well. Down home types lost in the Wonderland that was the entertainment business. Though even with her downhome partial Mexican upbringing Dahlia was decidedly still more of a city girl to this country boy.

Being an LA local, Dahlia knew it like the back of her prettily manicured hand. A hand she also often used in keeping much of the frivolity at arm's length. Even when in the middle of it all. She seemingly always sat apart. That was what Robert didn't understand about her presence in such madness.

Clearly the groupies agreed. Equally manicured hands being verily filed into a point, eager to tear at a tawny-skinned throat as their owner's gripped. "What is SHE doing here?!" Calling her everything but a child of God or what her father's own book termed their culture, "Children of the Sun".

No matter.

She seemingly stayed unaffected.

Toying with her engagement & wedding rings just so. Arranging the gold bangle bracelets or matching pendant. Her only flashes of vanity or pride being her only answer. Letting both that & her presence along with the 5000 other ways she was the "chosen one" of the Mr. James Patrick Page do the talking for her. Knowing her, if she were feeling cheeky she might whip out her instant camera & take a pic of the offending party, leaving some hanger on to deliver it & with it the picture proof / photo evidence of their bitterness as she & her beloved husband tangled fingers & held hands. They can have a pic. She had the real thing.

Guinevere was not giving up her throne.

Unbothered by the petty strife clawing at the door, begging to enter her beloved Camelot.

Rather, she looked bored, really.

Jimmy had disappeared with Bonzo. Off to take a powder likely. She had been chatting with Jonesy about books & things to get his girls & Mo back home, but now he too was off somewhere. Hangers on knew better than to try to ingratiate themselves with her. She had iced them out before. Now they well knew. There was no way in to the Page / Zeppelin inner sanctum with her.

As further proof, both of her seeming boredom & inaccessibility by groupie or hanger on, Robert saw her pull a small book out of her purse. That was Dahlia. Forever a bookworm. Sodom & Gomorrah at her feet. Head in the clouds. Nose in a book.

Before he knew it, Robert felt himself propelled towards her, stumbling a few times when a glittered & bejeweled fan flung & slung herself over him. Extricating himself deftly every time he uttered a soft, "Not this time, darlin'." "Maybe another night, doll." Or even "What will me missus, think?" Laughing his way out of harm's way as he bid them good night & left them to join the party. He caught more curses & sotto-voce snipes when they saw in what direction he was heading. But no matter. His course was set. Off he traveled to the "land of the people of the sun".

It was then that he allowed his six foot sun-people seeking self to cast a shadow over her in the midst of her reading. This had the intended effect of having the dim light she had been reading under all but disappear as he blocked it out. She whirled around to regard him with sharp eyes that were cut to him in momentary disgust. Her lips pursed as a similarly sharp tongue went about finding the right barb to fling before suddenly dropping its weapon. Her eyes widened before her gaze then softened in mirth as she lifted her arm in modified Roman salute, hand tilted upwards slightly. "Hail, Apollo. What brings the Sun God to these darkened shores?"

Sun God? He quite liked the sound of that. So he decided to play along, wracking his brain for his schoolboy Mythology.

"Hail, Aphrodite. I come in peace." He said, mimicking her salute with the hand that was not holding his beloved ale. "Or should it be Persephone, luv? By the way... Where is our beloved Hades?" Robert craved his neck around, looking for the dark-haired lord of the underworld that always seemed to be lurking around every corner when she was involved. "My stars." He gasped, putting a hand to his bared chest for affect. "I see no star suited one for miles. How is that possible?"

"I think he's off with your fellow northern friend right now. The one who plays either Dionysus or Ares if the bacchanalia goes too far." Dahlia quipped, her lips quirking into a wry grin as she pointed to Jonesy at the bar. "Hermes just left himself as well."

"Foolish ones they are." He tsked, shaking his head. "Leaving one so fair alone in the midst of such bacchanalia indeed."

Looking down he saw that where the glittered ones would have blushed or fluttered their eyelashes & twirled a curl of hair into a coil in flirtation, that was decidedly not Dahlia's - nor Aphrodite or Persephone's - way. Instead, she stayed looking up at him with the same wry grin & mirthful if still piercing stare along with a soft incredulous shake of the head. Her lips said nothing. But those eyes? Those eyes said EVERYTHING.

Clearing his throat & lubricating himself & his suddenly dry mouth with more ale, he jutted his chin at her book. "Whatcha readin' there, luv?"

"A mini collection of Harlem Renaissance poetry. Some classics. The usual." She marked her page & closed it to show him the cover art. Brown bodies arced & curved in exultation.

"Classics indeed. Your usual. A nice addition to your other usual Agatha Christies." He grinned. "What for?"

"Just because." She shrugged as she pocketed the book. "And because I figure if I'm to live in the aftermath of the Swinging Sixties... The Roaring Seventies some have termed... I better brush up on how the times used to Roar back in the day. Better brush up on my Cotton Club classic bacchanalia... Although..." She cast a suddenly weary look across all the goings on around them. Glittering, giggling, sharpened nails & tongues of hardened decidedly un flowerchild GTO like groupies & grubby fingered, coke jittery, tipsy-drunk, outstretched-handed hangers on included & heated a sigh. "Forgive me for saying but this pales in comparison to my childhood dreams of the Cotton Club."

"Indeed." He nodded with another sip of his ale. So she saw what he did that night. What he felt. She felt it too.

"I mean, not to be ungrateful or anything. Knowing how you like it & all. "Prince of Peace" that you are." There was that quirk of her lips again as she drawled the last part out.

Try as he might not to, he winced at the memory of those words leaving his lips unironically. Ah, so she had heard that story too. Of course she had. Was nothing a secret in this God forsaken place?!

His momentary embarrassment was compounded at the same time he was delightfully distracted by the sound of her sweet giggle. "I know how much fun you have typically. And I get how you dig the scene generally speaking. It just doesn't... It doesn't... It doesn't really do it for me... Not much... I mean all these people... They'd probably not spit on me if I were on fire if I wasn't with you guys. If I wasn't Mrs. Page. Hell, half of them would likely be the ones holding the match. Some of them still would now!" She cut her eyes in half dismissal half bemusement at the nail-filing bile-spitting groupies.

Naturally, she saw that too. Nothing escapes a goddess's eyes. A queen misses nothing.

"To clink glasses & break bread with them feels so false & disingenuous. Knowing all that, I mean. That's another reason I have this book." She tapped the book with a finger before closing her purse around it. "That way, I don't have to."

"Suffice to say, grateful though I am to be invited to these things, considering some of the company that find their way in... This ain't exactly my kinda party, Planty." She took her champagne glass from the table, clinking it with his bottle. "Cheers." Before downing the swallow or two that remained.

A moment passed in silent agreement. Robert having nodded at everything she said. The falsehoods of their lifestyle that were apparently hitting him hard that night, she had always seen. Hence her keeping it all at arm's length. Alice falling down a rabbit hole but landing on her own two feet. Dorothy traveling through Oz in a bubble of her own design. Pagey or not, his girl had her own magick. This he had always known. So had Pagey, he surmised, as evident by the rock on her finger as much as anything else.

"What is your type of party, luv? Missing Hampton Court?" He teased, though he knew her well enough to know better.

"No indeed." She laughed, nodding as he refilled her glass. "Thank you, kind sir." Then after a sip, she continued. "Even I know that night was a one in a million. A once in a lifetime event. Though that indeed was a night to remember as you well know."

There went that phrase again. At least this time it was worth it. That night truly was one to remember for all involved. Mariachis and Led Zeppelin acoustic jam at Hampton Court. Would wonders never cease? That had to be a first for all involved!

"But, c'mon blondie!" She nudged him, shaking him out of his reverie.

A reverie of her in her wedding whites with glittering mantilla veil coming down the aisle towards at the altar, seated next to Pagey, dancing with Pagey... And the dances he was able to share with her himself. Cor, was she a vision then. A lovelier bride he had hardly ever known.

Shaking out a wince at the thought of even thinking thar when he had his own missus at home... One who had a decidedly less ritzy do when her own turn came years earlier... He again silenced these demons with another swig of ale & turned his eyes back to the dusky goddess queen vision at hand.

"You know what it is. What my kind of party is. You know it about as well as Jimmy. Think about it."

"Jalisco?" Robert asked.

"Well, yeah." She nodded. "Yes, of course. But what about stateside? You remember. Though it's been awhile."

Robert instantly got hit with another blast from the past and he rattled off the vignettes as they came flashing back to him. "East LA. Whittier Boulevard. The Chuco." A quaint little chill hangout spot for local Chicano youth that played a mix of oldies, early rock'n'roll, Chicano groups, Latin jazz & Mexican or Latin music of all kinds.

Dahlia snapped her fingers & pointed at him. "Bingo. That's it. That's it exactly, Robert. That's my kind of party. All of it."

"Why don't we go back tonight then?" Robert offered with yet another swig from his bottle.

Dahlia paused mid thought. Mid answer. Her mouth falling open in a silent gasp & lack of immediate response. Try as she might, she couldn't really think of a reason not to. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she also really wanted to. Really wanted to. But still, she had to ask.

"Right now?" She whispered conspiratorially.

"Why not?" He shrugged. "S'gotta be better than this lot, yeah?"

Dahlia gave a quick look around & then went back to regarding Robert with a bemused smirk. "Don't you think they might miss you, your highness? I mean, how could they not miss their beloved Prince of Peace?"

He winced again at the little rib. (Dahlia was one of the rare very few whose barbs both landed & made him laugh.) But he did his best to play it off with a laugh & a wry grin of his own as he mused. "We'll be back."

Dahlia cast her eyes back over the bacchanalia, mulling things over. Another moment passed before she shot to her feet, tossing a soft voiced request over her shoulder. "Wait right here."

She then left the table & crossed over the room to Peter sitting at the bar with his ever present cigar, tapping him on the shoulder. She whispered something in his ear which had the cigar chomping bear of a man nearly dropping his cigar in shock as his jaw nearly slackened. He muttered something back, motioning to the goings on to which she shook her head, explaining further. She motioned across the room, lifting her hands in a quizzical shrug before pointing to the door, which was guarded shut. Then folding her hands together, she evidently pleads her case. And surprise surprise, wizened, hard negotiator Peter folds. He relents.

Peter motions to Magnet - of all people - pointing to her & motioning to a back entrance & hence exit. Dahlia squealed, leaping into Peter's arms & giving him a grateful squeeze. Peter grinned, hugging her back & patting her on the back with a meaty hand, making sure to keep his lit cigar away from her & keeping her safe from the ashes.

Upon breaking the hug, Dahlia turned to motion to Robert himself & tell Peter something else that nearly made him drop his cigar again. Peter's eyes widened & then narrowed. Clearly telling Peter that Robert too would be making his exit & taking his leave just then.

Peter's gaze sharpened... Not with malice... But with knowledge... He knew Robert... His types... His wonts... Or wants...

Robert knew this well...

And so it was that as Robert sidled up to both Magnet & Dahlia, he heard something above the whines & curses of the groupies. A few gruff words grunted in Cole's direction by his behemoth of a manager that cut through the din. "Get Pagey..."

Hustling himself along with her & Magnet out the door, Robert did his best to avoid Peter's gaze from then on out. Helping her into her jacket, which was really one of Pagey's more subtle, casual & less spangled boleros, Robert couldn't help but ask. "What was that about, luv?"

"Oh nothing..." She shrugged before thanking him & Magnet for opening her door & helping her into the car respectively. "Thank you. Such gentlemen." The tension Robert felt was broken by a shared giggle between the three before she continued. "I just told Peter I wanted to leave & hit up East LA for awhile before we head back to the Hyatt. He asked if Pagey was coming & I said he disappeared with Bonz for a bit & I couldn't find him. Besides, he was having fun last I knew, so I didn't want to pull him away from him being able to relax."

"I see..." He trotted over to his side of the car, slipping inside himself with Magnet shielding him from view of any lurking groupies as best as he could. "And the motioning to me & the party at hand, luv?"

"Simple." Dahlia explained, punctuating her words with the click of her belt. "I told him to tell Jimmy where I was, that I'd be back soon & not to worry. That not only would Magnet be with me but so would you & that you were leaving to tag along with me too. That you'd be there to protect me as well."

Robert felt a slight quickening of his pulse despite the innocence of it all. The innocence of her explanation. Of the situation. Yet the cloak & dagger feel of it all gave him a little heart flutter & frisson at once. He didn't quite know why. He couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Why was he so unnerved?...

It was his idea, after all...

They weren't doing anything wrong anyway...

It was then that Magnet got onto the road & pulled off. Now Robert knew... There was no turning back...

Though turn back he did...

Robert couldn't help it...

And so it was that as he craved his neck to glance back at the traffic behind him, Robert swore he saw a hint of a familiar tall, willowy, smoking, silver accented, black-haired figure hustling into the back seat of a car that roared to life & took off a few car's length behind them.

Only one word came to mind to describe the situation Robert found himself shoe-horning himself into now & his current state of mind.

"Shit..."

~

Hope you guys enjoy~!

As ever this is forever under construction~!

[theoriginaleppieblack-blog]

Happy Belated Birthday, Mr. Jones.

From Duncan Cameron and Paradox.

[maziecrazycloud]

Jimmy meets with Zeppelin to discuss new beginnings, Aisling receives a ill-timed threat from the Prince. The universe will never be the same. The tipping point of The Bird and The Silver Spoon has arrived, the inception has ended, the chosen sapling has begun to grow.

-

Hello! Long time no see! As always, sorry for the delay between each chapter, but this one was justified. This chapter is crucial for me to set up correctly leading forward, as the description warns, "Nothing will be the same". I wanted this chapter to be as close to perfection as I possibly could get, and I really hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it. It was a daunting task, and I rewrote it a number of times, but this version is my best!
As always, Dark Tidings and Enjoy!
I would recommend turning on the songs "The Middle of the World" and "Dance of the Druids" for the last bit of the chapter! ;) (i thought id make this post with a bird, aptly names! Hehe)

CW: Animal Death, mild blood, anxiety attacks.

-

Tags! (If you want to be tagged in future updates, comment under this post!):

@jimmysdragonsuit13 @tiny-sorceress-mads @thegroovywitch @larsgoingtomars @jimmys-zeppelin @n0quart3r @foreverandadaydarling @lzep @summerofsmiles

[lil-melody-moon]

Today will be a marathon of fics because my mind said so. The first fic is with John Bonham x Female Reader. Just like I've promised, there's some fluff with the big guy. The fic takes place in a pre Led Zeppelin era, so John's young in this one. I hope I did him justice, enjoy <3

Likes, reblogs, kudos and comments are appreciated <3

Title: New Beginning

Summary: After having an argument about your best friend, you've had enough. Leaving your boyfriend who had beaten you just because you wanted to keep the friendship and not get his jealousy make you change your mind, you left the house and decided to wander around, hoping the pain will go away. The fresh air, loneliness and calmness of the land you were living at brought you the peace you longed for, but only partly. You've found the second part of it in the small caravan that John Bonham lived in, once he had found you strolling on the road all alone.

[zepskies]

Maybe More Than Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You’ve been a friend and ally to the Winchester brothers for years, but you and Dean break new ground while on a stakeout to catch a witch.

AN: Here’s another entry for @jacklesversebingo! It’s also based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @lacilou. 💜

Prompt: Window—Letter Opener—Binoculars

Request: I'd love to read about Dean and the reader who's his age or even a little older.

Song Inspo: “Over the Hills and Far Away” by Led Zeppelin

Word Count: 2.9K

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, bit of hurt/comfort, bit of spice.~

💜 Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Discreetly from the passenger side of the car, you peered through the binoculars again. Your target was in view through the unusual circular window: an average looking white man in his fifties, peeling a tangerine from the comfort of his kitchen.

According to his driver’s license, his name was Martin Reynolds. Sam was investigating the sudden death of his wife, Laura, and the wives of two other men in the small town of Whitebury, Mississippi. Laura was the first victim, so you and Dean were watching Martin for any suspicious activity.

Your companion shifted in his seat. You could hear the give of the well-worn leather against denim. The Impala wasn’t exactly inconspicuous for a stakeout, but he refused to be trapped in your “tiny-ass” Toyota Camry all afternoon. You preferred the term compact.

“What’s our he-witch up to?” Dean asked.

Your lips twitched at a smile.

“We don’t know if he’s a witch,” you said, but you passed him the binoculars.

Dean’s mouth quirked to one side before he took a look. “Well, he probably isn’t a shifter.”

“What makes you say that?”

He gestured back at the window and gave you back the binoculars. You peered over and saw that Martin had half the tangerine in his mouth while he opened his mail with a letter opener. It flashed like silver in the afternoon light.

“If that is silver, it would rule out a lot of things,” you agreed, “but it still wouldn’t tell us why he killed his wife.”

Dean looked over as a white Porsche pulled into Martin’s driveway.

“Hmm, well, I’d say motive is comin’ in hot. Literally,” he said, watching intently when a young woman stepped out of the car. Her dress was as tight as the ponytail tied high on her head, a coil of blonde bouncing down her back.

You sighed, with a roll of your eyes. “Typical.”

You noticed the way Dean’s smirk wiped the boredom away from his eyes. It was annoyingly handsome, along with the neatly trimmed stubble across his cheeks, framing a strong jaw and the enticing bow of his lips. You had to resolve to ignore all of it, heaving a small sigh.

You wedged the binoculars between you both and toyed with the silver rings on your fingers—both a fashion statement and a safety precaution.

“Could be a demon deal,” you said. “Three men sporting Touch of Gray, three wives over 40.”

“Damn. That’s cold,” Dean shook his head, crossing his arms from the driver’s seat. Always from the driver’s seat. “That’d be pretty cut and dry though. Downright stereotypical.”

You gave him a smile. “Since when do you like it complicated?”

“Like it?” he scoffed. “What I like and what I get are on two different fucking hemispheres.”

You sensed bitterness there, underneath the dry remark. You looked away from the scene in the kitchen where Martin was pouring Barbie, his presumed girlfriend, a glass of white wine. Just like you thought, Dean’s brief good humor faded, falling into his resting state. It was a harder look than you were used to seeing on him over the years. His lighter, devil-may-care attitude in his younger days seemed to gain a little bit of edge every time you saw him next.

A few decades of bullshit, blood, and loss will do that to you.

But every time he called, you answered.

“You okay?” you asked. You tried to hide the depths of your concern, but maybe you just weren’t good enough. Dean glanced at you and forced his crunched brows to relax, as if he’d caught himself opening the hatch a little too much. Letting his true depths come to light a little too long.   

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he replied.

Sure. Always good.

You met him with a long look, your head rolling onto your shoulder.

“Hey. You can be honest with me, you know,” you reminded him. “What, you think I’m gonna tell Sam all your secrets?”

Dean smiled a little, but he shook his head, remaining stubborn.

“Look, I’m fine. Just the usual bullshit,” he said. “Nothing you gotta be dragged into.”

You frowned. “What, aside from this hunt? Aside from the last ten years of bailing your ass out?”

That last part was more joking. The truth was, Sam and Dean had helped you just as often as you’d tried to help them.

Now, Dean just shook his head. The fact that he didn’t levy back a smartass response further let you know that something was off with him. 

You bumped his arm lightly over his jacket.

“Come on, tell me all about your man feelings,” you teased. It had its intended effect, bringing a reluctant smile to Dean’s lips. He shot you a look, and you couldn’t help but admire how the dimming sun caught in his eyes, that pale green.

“Whatever. Like I said, I’m good,” he said, deflecting further by turning up his music. Yet another Led Zeppelin song was playing, but at least this one was more mellow. The guitar riff filled the car at a moderate volume. You guys were still on a stakeout, after all.

You shook your head, despite your smile. “You sound like a grumpy old man.”

His brows popped up. “Old?”

You shrugged impishly.

“‘Cause if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got a bit more mileage than I do,” he retorted.

You laughed, shoving his shoulder.   

“Well, that’s just rude,” you said. “You’re not even a year behind me. Matter of fact, you’re just a few steps shy of Touch of Gray in there. I can even help you find your shade. I’m thinking, what, medium brown with a hint of silver fox? Could be very George Clooney.”     

The disgruntled look on Dean’s face had you dying.

“Now that’s just uncalled for,” he said, even though his lips were curving upward at the sound of your laughter. Without you knowing, he took in the infectious sound, and the way you pressed the back of your hand against his arm while you tried to get ahold of yourself. It was everything he’d ever liked about you.

Easy. That was what it was, being with you.

The hard part always came afterward, watching you leave.

Letting you leave.

“It’s just…I don’t know,” you said, biting into your lower lip. You smudged your lipstick there, a dark, juicy red. It was distracting enough that Dean almost missed what you said next.

“You seem weighed down.” Your eyes were more serious then, beautiful and warm in their honesty. “Every time I see you, it’s like you’ve got fifty more pounds on your shoulders.”

Dean didn’t have an answer for you, even as he held your gaze.

His cell phone ringing cut through the guitar melody slowly fading into the next song. Dean fished it out of his pocket and answered Sam’s call.

“Hey, what’cha got?”

Your hunch proved correct. Sam tracked down the demon that made soul-claiming deals with a handful of men from the same golf club. All of them bored of their wives, and all of them with too much money on their hands—enough that they refused to lose any of it in a messy divorce.

It was like the opposite of the First Wives Club, and you were sickened.

When you and Dean questioned Martin, he felt just guilty enough to spill his guts.

Sam managed to gank the demon on his own, which left you and Dean with a conundrum: what to do with the marked men who sold their souls. No matter how much justice you thought they deserved, their souls were still damned to Hell either way. As Dean pointed out, that would be price enough to pay.

You were sour about it, but you let Martin and the rest of his scheming bastard friends go…after leaving him with a well-placed knee to the nads. At the very least, he wouldn’t be making any more scheming bastards anytime soon.

Dean was still smirking when you two piled into the Impala. Sam was waiting to be picked up at the bar across town, where he’d found the demon.

“Shut up already,” you laughed.

Dean shook his head, still grinning as he put the car in Drive.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Your smile remained, but not for long as you stared out the window. You liked the evening time, where there was still light enough to see, but the world was winding down in shades of orange-gold and violet. The streetlamps were slowly coming on, lighting the way along the road.

The car pulled to a stop at the red light, there at a busy intersection.

“Hey.”

Dean’s voice, deep and a little tired, caught your attention.

“You okay over there?” he asked. He was side-eying you again, this time in concern. You could see it behind the usual gruffness.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said. “Just makes me glad I never got married. Else I might’ve gotten shivved just so he could get out of paying alimony.”

Dean sucked his teeth. “Apparently it’s a bitch.”

You gave him a dry, withering look. He chuckled and briefly reached over to squeeze your arm.

“Hey, come on. That shit’s not happening to you,” he said. “He’d have to be dumb, deaf, and blind.”

You tilted your head at him, a small smile lighting up your face again. You couldn’t help the way your face warmed in a blush, especially with the way he was looking at you, all smirky and charming and unequivocally Dean.  

“Green light,” you reminded him.

He returned his attention to the road. His right hand was molded onto the steering wheel casually. His left rested on his thigh, while his fingers bounced to the beat of a song off his second favorite Zeppelin album. And you knew that, because he’d been playing it on repeat all day.

Many have I loved, and many times been bitten. Many times I've gazed along the open road…

You watched his profile, for a moment spellbound. The sky dimmed over his shoulder, casting him in both light and shadow, gold and dark.

“Have you ever…” You didn’t even know where you were going with this, but you’d already opened your mouth, and Dean was already glancing your way, with half his gaze on the road ahead.

“You ever gotten close to having something real? Someone who's not gonna shiv you when you’re fifty,” you said.

A laugh caught in his throat. “Hell, I never thought I’d see my forties, but here we are. Apparently I’m old.”

He shot you a wry look. You smiled.

“That’s one hell of a way to avoid the question,” you said.

Dean shook his head, this time with a sigh under his breath. For a second, you didn’t think he would answer you. You almost didn’t blame him.

The music filled the silence in between.

Mellow is the man who knows what he's been missing. Many, many men can't see the open road…

“Once,” Dean admitted. “I thought I had it, but uh…didn’t take.”

“Was she a hunter?” you asked.

Dean shook his head, his eyes staying on what lied ahead.

“Just wasn’t my life,” he said. “Couldn’t keep dragging her into mine.”

There was a lot there, buried deep. You couldn’t even begin to find a shovel, so you let it be. Though you should’ve predicted the way he turned it back on you.

“And you?” he said, brows raised. “Never had a douchebag in a sport coat, playing Caddyshack at the club every weekend?” 

You shook your head as you laughed. If nothing else, Dean could paint a picture.

“Definitely fucking not.” You rested your chin in your palm, your elbow finding purchase above the door handle. “You know me. I’m either too much or not enough.”

You didn’t notice it then, but Dean looked over at you with a frown tugging at his lips. He didn’t like the melancholy in your voice, or the way you turned to look out the window, like you were trying to hide from him.

Instead of putting voice to any of the thoughts rolling through his head, he kept driving.

The Impala rumbled to a stop in the parking lot in front of the bar. You were ready to meet Sam for a couple of beers inside. You grabbed your bag resting on the floor between your feet, but Dean’s stayed your hand, his own wrapping warmly around your arm.

You looked over at him with blinking, expectant eyes. He met you with sincerity.

“Anybody who says you ain’t enough, doesn’t know you,” he said. And then, his smile was back, quirking up at the corner. “At least, not like I do.”

Slowly, you smiled back. Your blush fairly radiated down your neck as well as your face, but you crossed your arms.

“So I’m too much. Is that what you’re saying?” you said.

He chuckled. “I plead the Fifth on that one.”

You fell into a fit of laughter along with him, and you both climbed out of the car feeling a little bit lighter. The blaring red neon sign above the bar blinded you for a moment. You turned to see Dean fiddling with his keys, trying to pick out the right one to lock up the car.

Some deep-seated feeling compelled you to go to him. You made your way around the hood and stopped just behind him. You called his name softly.

Dean turned to look at you over his shoulder. He was surprised to find you there so close. It led him to turn around all the way.

You didn’t give him, or even yourself time to think.

You grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled yourself up to press your lips to his. It was more or less a gentle kiss. Just a sweet, slow meeting of lips. You pulled away just as slowly, the heels of your boots lowering back down to the ground.

Dean blinked his eyes open. When he came back to himself, he looked down at you in surprise and with a hint of a smile. He had the imprint of your lipstick smudged across his plush mouth.

“What was that for?” he asked.

You smoothed your hands over his jacket. It was a bit too hard to meet his eyes, so yours landed somewhere around his chest. It was also too hard to say what you really wanted to say, so you settled on half of the truth.

“A thank you, I guess,” you said. “And maybe the next time I see you, you’ll have a little less weight on your shoulders.”

His calloused hand cupped your cheek, and he earned your gaze, blinking up at him through your lashes. You couldn’t name everything you saw in his eyes, but it was more than just surprise or lust. In fact, he seemed to be debating with himself, fighting something deep inside.

You saw the exact moment he made his decision.

“Maybe we should make it count then,” he said, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

You didn’t even trust your voice, but your gaze drifted down from his eyes, to his mouth. Your shallow nod in agreement was like releasing him from his chains.

Dean framed your face with both hands and drew you into his kiss, like he was breathing life into you. You certainly felt alive.

You clung to the back of his shirt, to his arms, while he gathered you flush against his chest. His strong hands glided their way down the small of your back, eliciting tingles down your spine. All the while, he drew you in deeper and deeper with each new sensuous glide of his lips against yours.

You yelped in surprise when he turned with you in his arms, just to press you into the side of his car. Dean pulled open the door to the backseat, and you climbed in willingly. He followed after you, at the same time you dragged him over by the front of his shirt. Soon his jacket was wrenched off his shoulders along with yours, both tossed somewhere in the front seats along with his shirt.

While you explored the new expanse of tanned skin, roaming your hands over his strong, broad shoulders and dipping down his back, his lips had fastened to your neck, teasing and grazing with his teeth along your pulse point.

You were already moaning and panting in his ear, your body arching to meet his as you slung a leg across his lap. He grabbed onto your thigh and squeezed, pulling you even tighter against him.

Still, you couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Aren’t we a little old to be making out in the backseat?” you said.

“You can be a little old for a lotta things, sweetheart,” said Dean, his voice gravel and deep as sin. “But this ain’t one of ‘em.” 

AN: Some spicy flangst there for ya! It was honestly refreshing to write some Dean after working on so much Soldier Boy. I love that guy, but he gives me stress sometimes. 😂 Trying to cure Dean's angst is a fun break! 💜

Read the Sequel:

Bonus shot! Resless Nights:

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

▶️ Keep Reading: Restless Nights

Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Jacklesverse Bingo 2024 Masterlist

Dean Winchester One-Shots 

Dean Winchester Masterlist || Main Masterlist 

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19

@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found

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@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka

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@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof

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@call-me-mrs-winchester @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @ghostslillady

@siampie @hell-o-kittys

[chromations]

"It’s so mundane, every day, but it’s gorgeous. Maybe he’s been around Robert for too long. This is his kind of thought process.

The buzz reaches his brain; it’s peaceful."

Title: Sick Again (Smokers in L.A.)

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Fandom: Led Zeppelin

Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant

Characters: Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, John Paul Jones

Additional Tags: Marijuana, Drug Use, Shotgunning, Kissing, Hair-pulling, 1976, Sunsets, Robert Plant cane era, Anxiety, Nausea, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, also implied eating disorders but that's if you really look

Language: English

Stats: Published: 2024-03-23 Words: 1,660 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

In July of 1976, Jimmy finds himself forced to attend a formal party with the rest of Led Zeppelin. Uneasy with the environment, he sits on the balcony in the summer evening. Robert finds him and finds a way to quell the unease with his own charm.

[bijouxcarys]

Little Wayward Girl

Masterlist (requests are open)

Summary: As the result of a bet, you must prove to your friend that not only have you experienced the magic of Robert Plant once before, but that he will definitely remember you four years later. Right?

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNA

Word count: 9.6k (got a bit carried away)

Tag list: @brownskinsugarplum76 @firethatgrewsolow @chromations @whothefuckisanja @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull (if you'd like to be added, just let me know!)

1975

I huffed, brushing down my skirt after fighting my way through the hoards of fans that so desperately wanted to get backstage. There were displeased looks from surrounding girls, but it was their bloody faults for leaving a gap next to them!

"What are you looking at?"

"Don't know, but it's got a right face on it," my best friend, Ally, grimaced back at the scantly-clad ginger and her friends beside us.

"'Ey," I nudged Ally, sending her a look of disapproval.

"What, she's being a c--"

"Chill out, you're the reason we're back here anyways."

"Oh, yeah, because you wouldn't have wanted to come back here."

"Why do you say that?"

"To try and meet them, since you have never met them before." Ally smirked at me, making me roll my eyes.

"You're not budging, are you?" I asked her with a sigh.

I could see her lunging for the chance to make some kind of snarky remark, but chaos ensued further when the door in front of us cracked open, revealing a tall and large man with a noteworthy beard.

"Right, can't let all you birds in, as much as we all want you to," the man huffed, scanning his eyes over the huddle.

Squinting my eyes, I tried to place my finger on who this guy was, as he was staggeringly familiar. You'd think after four years, I'd recognise such a man immediately, but it took an embarrassingly lengthy amount of time for it to click.

G! Oh shit, it's Peter Grant--Y/N, you fucking idiot...

Peter, barely giving us a once over, let as many of us through as he could. Ally's hand grabbing onto mine, we sidled past Peter, finally entering the grounds of my mission. With a sigh, I glanced at Ally and rolled my eyes. I can't believe she's talked me into this...

...Earlier that day...

I stood behind Ally in front of the mirror, bobby pin between my teeth as I intricately braided the top layer of her blonde hair, ensuring there wasn't a lock out of place.

"I'm so excited!" she squealed. Her excitement made me grin, a similar feeling rippling through me.

"I just feel lucky that I get to see them again," I said through the bobby pin.

"I'm so jealous that you've already seen them live."

Smirking to myself, I took the pin from my mouth and secured the underside of her layer to the rest of her hair, followed by a thin hairband to secure the end of the braid. "All done."

Ally turned to her side, getting a good look at my handiwork and clapped giddily. She turned and gave me a tight hug, rocking me side to side. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I giggled, patting her on the back before letting her go. I needed to fix my hair. Nothing too special, just a blow-out look that made my hair fluffier and larger. I liked the way it framed my face and sat along my shoulders; I loved the way it hung down my back.

Then again, so did he.

It wasn't that I was nervous to be seeing Zeppelin again in concert, it was purely the fact that memories from the night I saw them for the first time played out very vividly in my mind the whole week leading up to this day.

I did a once-over in the mirror of our hotel room, catching glimpses of Ally shuffling around on the bed, trying to force her feet into the pair of platforms she'd innocently swiped from one of our housemates.

"I still don't know why you don't just wear your own."

She looked at me as though I was speaking cling-on. "Are you insane? I've worn those so many times, as if I'd go to a Led Zeppelin show in shoes I've worn close to a hundred times before."

"If you say so, Al..." I shook my head in amusement. Once I concluded that I was happy with the outfit I had chosen, I decided that now was as good a time as any to tell Ally what I'd been waiting to tell her since we bought the tickets for the gig.

"So... I think there's something I should probably let you know before we head out," I started, spinning on my heel to look at her.

"Go for it," she struggled, falling onto her back with one leg in the air as she pulled on the heel of the platforms.

Amused by her blissful ignorance to the bombshell I was about to drop, I leaned back against the wall. "You know how I've seen them live before?"

"Yup!"

"Did I ever mention that I, uh... met them?"

Her leg dropped, the chunky heel thudding on the ground. "You did what?!"

I grinned, keeping my nonchalant position against the wall. "You heard."

"I'm not sure I did."

"You did," I laughed with a nod of my head.

"But... how?" she breathed out with wide eyes and an open mouth.

I shrugged. "I just found my way backstage with some girls I'd met that night. They're actually lovely lads."

Ally narrowed her eyes a bit, sitting up on the bed. It was like she was analysing my demeanour.

"What?" I asked.

"You're bullshitting me."

"I promise you, I'm really not," I shook my head. "That's not even the most unbelievable part about it."

"Fuck's sake, Y/N, tell me already!"

"You clearly don't believe that I met them, I highly doubt you'll believe the other part."

"Please! Tell me, I promise I won't jump to any conclusion," she pleaded through puppy-eyes.

"Fine!" I feigned defeat, as though I didn't want to tell her the sordid details. "I may or may not... have had... an... encounter..." I contemplated my choice of words. "...With Robert Plant."

"Yeah, right," she immediately fired back.

"See, I told you you wouldn't believe me!"

"You're telling me that you, Y/N, shagged Robert fucking Plant?"

"Well, I did!"

"Lies."

"Just 'cause you're jealous."

"I would be jealous if it were true," she sang, standing up and giving herself a final look in the mirror. "Well," she sighed, turning to face me with her hands on her hips. "There is one way you can prove it to me..."

"I'll be honest, I'm not overly bothered about you believing me or not, because I know it did happen," I said matter-of-factly, heading over to where I kept my bag and taking out the necessary things I needed for the night, sticking them in the deep pockets of my velvety brown blazer-jacket. "Besides," I turned, "he liked my hair. And my tattoo."

"Your shitty tattoo that you did yourself when you were sixteen?" Ally asked in subtle shock.

"Yeah, he said it..." I stopped myself, smirking. "No, you don't believe me, what does it matter?"

"So much for you not caring about me believing you or not..." She sighed dramatically. "Well, if you're comfortable with me shagging Harry--"

"Since when are you shagging my brother, Al?"

"Since you decided that it's not important to prove to me that you shagged the sexiest man on Planet Earth. Apart from your brother, that is..."

"Ew, gross, okay," I groaned. "How am I supposed to prove it?"

With a mischievous smile, she stepped closer to me. "Easy. We get ourselves backstage."

I shook my head, running my hand through my hair.

"Unless you don't think he'd remember you..."

Her smugness was irritating me now. It really shouldn't have mattered if she didn't believe me. But the more she was insistent that it didn't happen, the more and more I wanted to prove to her that it did. Just for the petty reason of being right.

"He'd remember me." I narrowed my eyes, but completely knew that I was being ridiculous. The chances of someone like Robert Plant remembering little old me were second to none.

"Yeah, okay," she disregarded. "I'm not considering it until you prove it to me. And if you can't prove it, and he can't remember a single thing about it... I get to have my encounter with your brother."

I groaned again, sitting back on the bed. "Fine. Fucking whatever. But I'm telling you... it did happen, and... h-he will remember."

"You don't sound too sure, Y/N, but we shall see..."

....Now....

Ally was having the absolute time of her life backstage; two roadies had already offered her a drink, which she obviously accepted, and she'd already gelled with multiple people.

I, however, felt uneasy about this whole bet.

How desperate to prove my friend wrong was I to insist that Robert fucking Plant would remember a night with a random girl from four whole years ago?! I spent a majority of the first half of the night mentally slapping myself and trying to figure out a way to get myself out of this situation.

But it proved to be too late as those four well-known rockstars entered the room to an abundance of cheers and applause for yet another electrifying performance.

First came Bonzo. I always remembered him as this big teddy bear, and he maintained that disposition. His hand was quickly occupied by a bottle of San Miguel. Some things never change.

Then came Jonesy. He was nothing but gentle from what I remembered of my brief time with the band. If I understood correctly, it seemed that he steered away somewhat from the sordid escapades derived from post-show adrenaline.

Jimmy had grown his hair out a little more, something I immediately noticed throughout the night. His eyes were laser-focused on the two girls waiting by the door for him, one of which were instantly taken under his wing. She was clearly his for the night. Probably the other one, too, now that I think about it...

I swallowed hard and glanced over at Ally, who was both in awe and anticipation. I can imagine she tackled with two mentalities. The first one being that she was seeing her favourite band up close, and the second itching to be right regarding Robert and I.

Larger than life, he strode in last, blouse open, yet tied across the bare expanse of his stomach. The jeans... God, those jeans. From where I had cowered in the corner, I had a prime view of the full picture. The pure perfection of one Robert Plant.

Heart hammering against my chest, I wished for the moment to pass quickly, knowing that come sundown the next day, my dear brother would be in bed with Ally.

I made no attempt to make myself seen. If he saw me, congratulations to him, but I wasn't going to intentionally put myself in the crossfires of embarrassment. Not that easily.

Ally was far too smug beside me, her mouth angled upwards in a smirk. I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"Shut up," I mumbled, resorting to biting at my nails to relieve the growing anxiety.

"The moment we've been waiting for..." Ally started dramatically through a sigh. "...You shall be proven wrong, and I shall be between the sheets with H--"

I nudged her with some force, cutting off her provocation. She's so right, though...

My breath completely stilled in my throat when the enigmatic God of a vocalist scanned the room casually. And just like that, his eyes met mine. The moment was far too long for my liking.

Eventually, his eyes continued their surveillance around the room.

Nothing.

Not even the miracle of a second glance.

I cringed internally, lowering my gaze to the floor. Ally cackled beside me, before patting my back. "Damn, Y/N. Seems like he can't remember little old you..."

"Seems so," I mumbled, running my hand through my hair and shaking my head. Obviously, Y/N. You knew that would be the case.

All I could think back to was the moment Robert looked at me for the first time and didn't just pass me by.

1971

Ugh, you don't belong here.

I stood awkwardly amidst the small group of well-groomed girls that took me under their wing for the night. They were nice enough, and didn't look down on me like a lot of the other females in the audience did.

The hallway was eerily vacant as the final rings of the show erupted in precedence to the roaring yells of adoration. Vicky, who must have been about twenty-two, claimed it was best to get ahead of anyone else that may have wanted to come backstage.

I felt small and irrelevant with these girls. They were tall, beautiful, made-up, decked out, experienced... Everything that I was not. And when we heard an approaching cluster of footsteps, I quickly remembered that.

What are you doing, Y/N? This isn't your place.

My hands fist up into balls, hoping that my decision to extract myself from the situation would go unnoticed.

To my relief, it did. By them, at least.

Taking a few steps back, I initiated a turn, aiming to make a swift exit and retreat home. Perhaps in the comfort of my bed, I could indulge in fantasies of what might have been.

"Woah, easy there, love."

Startled, I collided with a broad chest, and in mere moments, I found myself locking eyes with the man who had elicited screams from thousands of girls just minutes ago.

Speak, Y/N! Don't be an idiot!

"S-Sorry," I stuttered dryly, lowering my head to walk past him. But he stopped me, reaching out to gently touch my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" I looked back at him, and tried my hardest to avoid his eyes. If I looked into his eyes, I'd melt. "You look shaken up."

My eyes darted to the floor, willing myself not to succumb to the beauty ahead of me. I nodded. "I'm fine. Just..." Muscle memory sabotaged my intentions, and I found myself finally looking back up at the blue pools of passion. And I couldn't look away. "I... was just... leaving."

"Already?" He tilted his head to the side as a charming smile took his features, embellished by the endearing tussle of facial hair I had swooned over all night. "Night's just started, darlin'."

His voice...

"Y-yeah, I know," I laughed pathetically, wanting nothing more than for the floor to swallow me whole. "You won't..." I glanced down the hallway at the girls I had left, their attentions fully on Jimmy by this point. "...won't be missing anything with me gone."

"Oh, I doubt that. The more the merrier."

I didn't answer him, I just pulled my gaze away from down the hallway and looked back at him with an unconvinced expression.

"Okay, well how about we start again normally?"

I scrunched my eyebrows up. "Wh--"

"Hello, my dear, I hope I don't seem too brash, but I can't help but notice how lovely and alluring your hair appears to be. I'm Robert, the silly prat that's just been jumping around on stage for the last two hours," he gallantly introduced himself with an exaggerated bow and an amused smirk.

My mouth hung open a bit, stumped at his energy. Not at all what I was expecting, but his subtle humour gave me a small sense of security, and I caught myself restraining a smile.

"I know who you are..." I said shyly.

"Yet, still, I haven't had the pleasure of knowing you who are," he pointed out, reaching out to cautiously take my hand in his.

Robert Plant is holding my hand. Robert. Plant. Is holding... My hand.

"Y/N," I managed to squeak out.

Robert grinned, squeezing my hand. "Names out of the way, may I ask why you don't think you'd be welcome?" Smoothly, he began to guide me in the direction of the dressing room where everyone else had convoluted. I barely even noticed, I was so caught up in his mere presence.

"Like I said... Don't think I'd be much fun." I shrugged. Robert's brows furrowed, an unconvinced expression on his face. "This is my first concert," I admitted through a nervous laugh.

"Ah," he chuckled, nodding his head. "I understand now."

By now, we'd stopped just next to the dressing room door. Robert turned to me, inadvertently trapping me between the cool breeze block wall and his heated, tanned body.

"Well, sweet Y/N with the pretty hair," he leaned down, lowering his voice to one laced with reassurance and the slightest hint of something else. "If you'd allow me, I'd very much like to be the one to... put an end to your post-show celibacy."

I swallowed hard, eyes wide as I stared up at his. He certainly has a way with words. So much potential to mean something entirely different. Without another word, I nodded, feeling my palms clam up at the realisation that I had agreed to something I only ever mustered up in my wildest dreams.

1975

Baffled by my own annoyance at Robert's complete lack of recollection, I grappled with the realization that my frustration stemmed from Ally being right and me being wrong. In that moment, I was an inconspicuous figure, a nobody.

Seeking refuge on a plush sofa, I settled into a comfortable spot, keenly aware that the majority in the room would soon migrate to an after-party in the hotel where the band was staying.

My gaze involuntarily returned to Robert, positioned at the opposite end of the room. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, and he was encircled by an eager flock of girls. Observing them, a wry thought crossed my mind – someone among them was in for an unforgettable night.

I couldn't pinpoint why his obliviousness bothered me so much. Was it wounded pride or misplaced expectations? Regardless, the scene before me unfolded like a vivid tableau, and I found myself grappling with a mix of emotions amid the impending revelry.

"What's with the long face? We're literally backstage at a Zeppelin show!"

I looked at Ally, unphased by her giddiness.

"Are you upset that you couldn't get away with your little fantasy?" She pouted. I could tell she had no real intention to upset me, and it didn't. It did, however, make me want to backhand her. In a friendly way, of course.

When I didn't answer, simply looking back over at Robert, Ally sighed heavily and shuffled closer to me. "Listen, just because it's not happened before, doesn't mean it can't happen tonight."

"Oh, sure," I rolled my eyes. "I'd have to get in li--"

Too engrossed in conversation, I was completely caught off-guard when I felt the chill of some liquid splashing onto my bare legs. I flinched backwards and looked up to see a very apologetic John Bonham.

"Oh, bloody hell, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, his voice booming over the chatter. He immediately looked around for something to help, settling on a nearby napkin. "Here, let me..."

I waved him off, laughing nervously. "No worries, it's just beer. I'll survive."

As he attempted to mop up the spill, our eyes briefly locked, and he grinned sheepishly. "Guess I'm not as nimble as I thought. Mini skirts and beer don't mix, do they?"

Still as lovely as I remember.

I chuckled, appreciating his good-natured attempt to diffuse the situation. "Lesson learned, I suppose." As I stood up to mop up the rest of the spilled beer myself, I knew it was fruitless, and I sighed lightly. I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of familiar blue eyes from across the room as I turned to pass Ally my own bottle. Wishful thinking.

"There's a restroom to the right down the hallway, love, I'm so sorry."

"You're okay, honestly. It was gonna happen at some point, might as well be by the best drummer known to man," I joked, giving Bonzo a genuine smile. "Be back in a sec," I said to Ally before taking off for said restroom.

1971

"Shh," Robert's lips moved against my jaw as I whimpered. "I've got you, darlin'."

My hips involuntarily ground upwards against the heel of his palm, searching for any semblance of friction. Robert's throaty chuckle tickled my ear with his beard.

"Have to go slow, sweetheart," he whispered. "Don't want to hurt you."

"Y-You won't..." I weakly whispered back.

Robert lifted his head to peer down at me, an unconvinced look splashed across his perfect features. "Oh, Y/N. Sweet, sweet Y/N," he breathed.

My hands clasped around the back of his neck, wanting nothing more than him flush against me. His eyes glued to mine, looking into the depths of my soul as he maneuvered his fingers below, tracing the outline of my underwear. "You need to be soaked, Y/N. If you want to take all of me..."

All I could do was nod in response, allowing his lips to cover mine in a searing kiss, his fingers very delicately navigating my untouched centre.

As soon as the pads of his fingers swiped gently over my folds, my hips ground upwards instinctively. I felt like I could unfold, just by his soft grazes.

With a lush swirl of his tongue around mine, he hummed into my mouth. Breaking the kiss with a subtle smacking sound, he gazed down at me with hooded eyes.

I could only imagine how desperate and needy I seemed below him; wide-eyed, flushed, barely touched.

"Am I correct in the assumption that you haven't done this before, Y/N?"

My throat closed up and I swallowed. Shit, I really didn't want you to figure that one out...

I stumbled in my response, diverting my eyes to the side, but unable to escape his ethereal clutches in the form of his fingers. He was still making slow strokes along my weeping folds. Even as he spoke to me with that voice.

"Hm, it's nothin' to be ashamed of, honey." His words came as an encouraging murmur, almost with a sing-song cadence. He put a stop to the movements of his hand, resting it on my abdomen. His head dipped down to pepper small, light kisses along my chin, along my jaw, and then down my neck. "I'll take such good care of you, darlin'..." he whispered. My skin tingled in response to his hot breath against it.

Robert nipped lazily at my neck before dragging his lips back up to mine with a chaste peck. "That's if you want, Y/N. Just say the words, and I'll take you there."

How can I say no?! You could have had me in the fucking hallway!

All it took was a feeble nod and a weakened "please" for Robert to spring into action. His gentle hands took their time in undressing me, and his eyes conveyed a novel's worth of intrigue, admiration, and pure lust.

A carnal desire; I to entrust, him to liberate.

1975

You know, you could just leave right now, and nobody would even notice. Maybe Ally. Shit, Ally. Why did you get me into this situation? Pfft, no, Y/N, it was you, you idiot. But still... you could make a run for it. Crawl into bed. Forget any of this even happened. Hopefully wake up and realise this is just a horrifying dream.... fuck.

The mental argument I was having with the reflection of the bathroom mirror went on, and I couldn't rationalise with myself. I should have left, but I didn't want to. I couldn't bring myself to. Something in the back of my mind told me that it was worth staying.

So, I huffed out, hoping to expel as much of the stress as possible, and did a once over in the reflection.

At least you can't see the beer anymore...

Leaving the restroom, I vowed to make the most of what the evening had to offer, and if that involved being completely ignored by Robert fucking Plant, then so be i--

"Woah, easy there, love."

Turning the corner, I walked straight into that broad chest I'd been ogling at for a majority of the night. With wide eyes, I craned my neck to look up at him.

Shit.

"Not the typical 'hello', but whatever suits you best," Robert chuckled.

"Oh, great, I said that out loud," I cringed inwardly.

There was a horrible moment of silence, of him just looking at me, studying me. It was hard not to revert back to that shy, scared 17-year-old that ran into him in an eerily similar way.

"D'ya enjoy the show?" he asked, leaning against the wall and folding his arms. God, those arms. I remembered how easily he hoisted my legs up with them. How they completely engulfed me when he held me for the night.

I found myself unable to speak. So I opted for a nod and a hum of approval. I was met with the signature side smirk, his dimple deeper than I remembered. Then again, he did have that beard back then. It felt great when he settled his head betw--

"Sorry 'bout Bonzo," he cut off my inner thoughts, "He's a clumsy sod when he's drunk."

I stifled a small chuckle, keeping my eyes anywhere but on his. That's how he captured me last time. Not that he fucking remembers... "Yeah, I know," I answered quietly with a nod.

My attempts at avoiding his gaze were cut short. His fingers rested under my chin, gently tilting my head up so I had no choice but to look at his face.

"I may be tall, but not tall enough that you can't look at me, love."

Jesus, the way he said that...

Swallowing, I pulled my head back. "Yeah, I know."

"You don't say much, do you?" he though aloud with a slight tilt of his head. Proving his point, I neglected to answer. "Were you planning to hang around tonight? We're going to head back to the hotel soon. Could have some fun, maybe loosen you up a bit, darlin'."

"I don't need loosening up. And my name is Y/N."

"Ah, my Little Wayward Girl speaks." He grinned.

"Yeah, well, it's a bit different when you wait outside of the ladies' restroom for someo--wait, what?" My eyes widened once again as I snapped my head back up to look him head on.

Robert's hand smoothed over the side of my head, stopping to cup my cheek as he dipped down to hover over me. Inches away.

"I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" he whispered.

Before he strode back down the hallway, leaving me dumbfounded and relieved all at once, he stole the lightest kiss from the tip of my nose.

1971

Robert's curls were soft and lush against the bare skin of my stomach as he laid facing the ceiling. He watched as the reflections of the sun danced in patterns above him, suggesting the break of dawn.

His arm was hooked around my bent leg, and my fingertips brushed over the mass of hair on his chest. My eyes were shut as I tried to capture the exact feeling of this moment, hoping to solidify the warmth of his presence in my memories forever.

Soon, my fingers were playing with his tussled beard, feeling the contours of his perfect jaw that were hidden under the natural mass.

"Tired?"

I forced my eyes to open. He was gazing up at me. The zeal in his eyes drew a shy smile from me, and for what felt like the hundredth time that night, my cheeks flushed.

"Yeah..." I answered in a hushed whisper, almost hoarse from the extent of which my voice had been exercised throughout the night. "I think you wore me out," I added with a silent giggle.

Robert responded with an amused hum, his hand idly tracing patterns along my thigh. "As long as you enjoyed it, darlin'... Though, I think it goes without saying."

I smirked at him. "How'd you figure that one out, then?"

He pulled himself up and turned over so that he was now hovering over me. Using his forearms to support himself, he pressed his clammy forehead to mine. "Those, sounds, darlin'... such a beautiful symphony." He lowered his head down, lips grazing the shell of my ear. "Music to my ears," he whispered. My teeth clamped down on my lips to subdue the idiotic grin that threatened to appear.

"What else?" I dared to ask.

Bringing his lips back up to mine, he melded us together in a searing kiss. His tongue teased my lower lip, but withheld the satisfaction of it going any further.

"Aside from the whimpers, the panting, and the dirty, dirty moans that fell from your pretty little mouth?" He licked his lips, eyes trailing down, his lips following suit. "The way your skin glistened..." He mumbled down my throat. "The goosebumps that you still have, by the way," he chuckled. Then, his journey travelled west and east. "The way your nipples became so taut, so early on." A light kiss to each of them. He continued south, dragging his soft lips and his rugged beard down my stomach until his chest was lined up with my used core. Broken into for the first time by this God of a man. "Then there's the perfect drip of your honey... Never tasted one so sweet, darlin'," he purred, daring to rest the palm of his hand over my mound. "You clenched around me so earnestly. You were so good."

Finally, he tilted his head back up at me. "Does that answer your question, love?"

I was breathless. It was like he was making love to me all over again, only lyrically. Like he did in his music. But for me, and me alone.

I wordlessly nodded, my lips parting in a shaky exhale.

"Good." Robert's playful smile returned, and he turned his head to pepper loving kisses on my thigh. He paid specific attention to the self-modification I made on my thigh. Then, he took a minute to ogle at it. "I like this."

I raised my eyebrow, an amused smirk on my lips. "Oh, the tattoo?" I laughed airily. "It's silly. Don't even know why I did it..."

"It's sweet. A little smiley face, the tongue sticking out." He looked up at me. "Innocent, yet... unruly and defiant. You're like my Little Wayward Girl..."

1975

Ally cackled, right in my face, as I gave her a quick rundown of what just occurred in the hallway.

"Yeah, okay, Y/N," she snorted with a shake of her head.

"I'm telling you the truth, Al!"

"I'm not judging you for lying about it, it's okay. You don't have to keep up with it."

"I'm not lying," I almost whined, running my hand through my hair. I near desperately scanned the room. Where the fuck did he go? It would be really helpful if he showed up and relieved me of this torture! I huffed, crossing my arms in frustration. What if I'm imagining things and what happened in the hallway was all in my head? Fuck, now I think I'm going crazy, thank you, Ally.

"Ally, you know me," I steadily began, "If it didn't happen, and you caught me out in a lie, I'd have given it up by now."

She squinted her eyes at me. "Yeah, but it's not every day you get to make something up about Robert fucking P--oh my god." Her eyes widened, looking behind me. Her hand reached out to grab at my wrist. And before I could turn my head to scope out what cut her off, I felt a steady touch on my lower back and a looming presence beside me.

"I don't believe I've had a chance to speak to you two yet," his distinct, velvety voice rang in my ears as a muffled shock, mixing with the rest of the noise in the room.

"N-No, you haven't," Ally croaked. She was starstruck. Who could blame her?

"I apologise for that. Y'see, there're always so many people waiting for us after shows, it's hard to get around everybody." I could tell without looking at him that he was speaking through his characteristically crooked smile.

"Just being here is crazy enough, I wouldn't even be mad if you didn't notice us," Ally said through a nervous and clumsy laugh. I couldn't withhold my stifled chuckle at her tone, very atypical for her. It was satisfying to watch her cool demeanour crumble with every word.

I could see Robert's head turn in my direction, and I instinctively looked back, my heart banging against my rib cage.

"Well, I've definitely noticed you, now." Even though it was in response to Ally, he was looking directly at me. The hand on my back bared a little more pressure. It was fleeting when he gave me another one of those smirks, before looking back at Ally. "So, how do you know my Y/N?"

My Y/N.

Ally blinked a few times, her eyes darting to me. I gave her a smile, silently screaming "I TOLD YOU," as I so wanted to out loud. I just froze in the moment, letting it unfold as beautifully as it seemed to be.

"U-uh, she's my friend--I'm sorry, you know her?" Ally's voice rose in pitch as he pointed at me.

"Know, knew, whichever suits you best," Robert shrugged. "Uh, when was it, love?" he asked me, once again looking at me.

Finally regaining an ounce of my confidence, I smirked ever so slightly as I answered him. "'71, I think."

"That's it," Robert grinned and nodded. Ally's mouth hung open a little, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Y-you were telling the truth!" she whisper-shouted at me.

"Uhh, yeah," I told her matter-of-factly.

"Fuck!" Ally slapped her hand on her forehead, most likely cursing the fact that she would not, in fact, be in bed with my brother this time tomorrow.

Robert's brows wrinkled in confusion, and he glanced at me. "Wha--"

"Don't ask," I answered before he could finish his question. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it, Ally?" I raised an eyebrow at her, an unrestrained smirk on my own lips now.

"No," she said through a clenched jaw.

"Okay, then," Robert exhaled, taking his hand away from my back to move his hair from his face. "Well, we're heading back to the hotel now," he said to Ally. "You're welcome to come along. However, I will be stealing Y/N for the evening." He looked down at me. "If that's alright with you, love."

Just like that, he had me again.

1971

I was grateful that they had a day off. It meant Robert and I could sleep well into the afternoon before they had to fly out the next day.

Robert seemed to adopt a somewhat domestic demeanour, though I suspected that was just how he was when he wasn't in the throes of making love--be that on stage, or off.

In essence, he dedicated the remaining time I spent with him to after-care. He truly looked after me after making my first time the most memorable, magical, and otherworldly. I couldn't help but let my mind wander, as he disappeared into the bathroom at 3pm, how lucky his wife must have been if he treated the women he didn't even know like this.

Lucky, ha. Her husband is off sleeping with countless women on the road. Luck doesn't seem like the most appropriate word to use in this situation, but anyone who came within a half-mile radius of Robert is naturally deemed lucky.

Lost in my thoughts, tangled up in the bedsheets, Robert blocked my vacant gaze at the ceiling by extending his hand out to me. He'd run us a bath.

He'd taken me there, twice more, in that hotel bathtub. Once with his fingers, once with his cock--and both times accompanied by the melodic moans, grunts, and murmurs of his platinum voice.

By 5pm, he was ordering more tea with lemon and honey to the room. He taught me about the importance of honey when it came to protecting the vocal chords, prompting a detour of innuendo and even more charm.

Out on the balcony, overlooking the city, we both took in the cool breeze. The much-needed fresh air. We laughed over the wind's assault on both of our hair, igniting a playful back and forth over whose hair looked the best all dishevelled and out of place.

Desperate to prove his point of mine looking "enigmatic and resplendent," this led to a series of photos taken on the balcony with the camera Robert had brought along on tour.

"You really do like my tattoo, don't you?" I giggled when he asked me to pull back the robe and maneuver my body so the inked smiley face was on show.

"I told you I liked it, love," he said as he focused on snapping a few shots. "You should, too," he grunted as he stood up, stretching up. "Anything that makes you different, you should love it."

Eventually, he took me as his guest for dinner with his band mates, along with one of Jimmy's girls, and the two men who I quickly got to know as Peter Grant and Richard Cole. My attention was solely on Robert, though, and his on me. Offering me cigarettes, drinks, introducing me to different foods I'd never tried before.

And before he gave me another night of mind-blowing, leg-shaking orgasms, we sat out on the balcony, listening to records, and talking about what music struck him in the heart the way Zeppelin did with me.

He even sang to me. Rough lyrics and melodies, originals that hadn't yet been released to the world. I was honoured. I couldn't believe I was in the right place at the right time. Little old me.

But there I was, sat on a balcony in Robert Plant's hotel room, as he hummed the first or second draft of what the world would come to know as Stairway to Heaven.

1975

I would have been an idiot to turn down another offer from Robert Plant. To deny him of that limousine ride to his hotel, where the others piled in after us. Ally had attached herself to Bonzo, falling into deep, drunken conversations. And in my own tipsy--not drunken--haze, I looked up at Robert and chuckled when the car started moving.

His arm was draped over my shoulders, burning holes into my jacket with the mere graze of his fingertips, up and down my arm.

"So, you gonna tell me how you figured out it was me?" I said up at him. "And why you waited to follow me to the restroom to let me know of that fact?" I tilted my head further back, with me being so close to him.

The audacity he had, in front of all these people, to slide his other hand up my leg, stopping just as his fingers disappeared under the hem of my skirt.

"Honey, a skirt that short leaves very little to the imagination, and can expose your most unique qualities..." he trailed off, glancing down at his hand as he carefully teased my skirt a few centimeters further up, enough to unveil the stamp of innocence that had led him to dub me his Little Wayward Girl.

"And, of course... yer one of the only lasses I've had the pleasure of meeting to have this particular unique quality," he jested with a smirk, before gently squeezing the flesh of my thigh.

He leaned into me, lips parted inches from mine. "Just need to get reacquainted with another treasure hidden away up there, don't I?" He didn't let me answer, he just captured my lips in a searing kiss.

That kiss took us all the way up to Robert's hotel room, where he had me pinned against the back of the door with his lips hot on my neck.

"And you're sure Ally will be alright with--" I cut myself off with a gasp as I felt Robert's teeth steadily bite down under my ear.

"I already told you, love, she's perfectly safe with Bonzo," he said lowly. He kissed where he'd bitten, and dropped his voice to a provocative whisper. "Now, no more about anyone else tonight, Y/N..." Pulling back, he cupped his hand over my cheek, looking into my eyes. "Just us, darlin'... You..." His free hand trailed down my chest, fingers delicately teasing away the covering of my jacket. "And me."

I let him push my jacket off my shoulders, barely feeling it pool around our feet. I couldn't take my eyes off of his, and I fell deeper and deeper into his allure--exactly how I wanted it to be.

"No more distractions," I whispered back with a slow nod.

"No more distractions," Robert smirked, tilting his head to the side. He took a step back and held his hand out. "Come, my dear."

His hands were gentle, but a fiery presence on my skin as he took his time to remove every stitch of clothing from my body. In that moment, I felt like the most sublime creature on Earth. Every inch of my body was doted on, appreciated, cherished...

Robert was still clothed when he took my face in his hands, delicately placing the lightest kiss to my lips. Then down to my chin, my throat, as far as his tall frame could reach without having to bend at the knees. His fingers threaded through my hair, causing my eyes to flutter shut and my thighs to instinctively clench at the thought of him applying pressure to my roots.

"Set the pace, love," he muttered.

"I'm not 17 anymore, Robert..." I reminded him, my eyes flickering down to his lips. "I can handle whatever pace you wish to set," I told him with a confident exhale. My fingers worked on removing his blouse, all whilst distracting him with the want in my eyes.

And I watched as his darkened with something akin to epicurean, sovereign desire.

With an unfaltering stare, his hands gripped my wrists in the process of me pushing his shirt from his shoulders. Bringing my hands up to his lips, he kissed them, almost like a Godspeed to his gallant complexion. Then he let me go, ushering me backwards with maintained eye contact until I had no choice but to sit back on the plush bed.

I took in the delightful view of Robert shrugging off his blouse. My stomach clenched when the veins in his hands flexed whilst unbuckling the stylish belt he had secured around his hips. It wasn’t hard to tell that those jeans were starting to become an issue. The two of us shared a small, knowing smile as he caught me eyeing the obvious bulge.

“You do it on purpose,” I stated, leaning back on my hands.

He had a permanent smirk on his face as he peeled off his jeans and underwear. The heat between my legs fluttered already once his large cock came into view, springing up, proud and prominent. “What do I do on purpose, love?”

He knew exactly what I meant.

“Don’t play innocent, Percy, it doesn’t suit your God status.” I slipped my lip between my teeth, using the well known nickname for the first time.

“God status, eh?” He grinned, stalking towards the bed and hovering over me, steadying himself of his hands. “My, my, where as my Little Wayward Girl gone?”

I glanced down at his lips, shivering internally at how close he was to me. The tension was palpable. Thick enough to saw in half.

“If I remember correctly,” I started in a whisper, gazing up at his eyes. “A Golden God took the time to school me. And he stole away with that Little Wayward Girl before sunrise.”

“And who exactly assumed my Little Wayward Girl’s throne, my dear?” He whispered back, trailing kisses along my jaw. When he got to my neck, nipping and sucking marks into the sensitive skin, my hands instinctively came up to hold onto his biceps. “A Goddess, perhaps?” He breathed hotly into my ear.

The natural sandalwood musk of his body drugged me. I was high on his presence, rendered unable to answer with anything other than a shaky breath.

Robert’s hand moved up to hold the side of my neck, tilting my head in his direction. His eyes were clouded and hooded. Hungry with desire.

“Why don’t you show me what that Golden God taught you, baby?”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. In what seemed like a momentary flash, he’d returned to a standing position with me perched on the edge of the bed: face to face with his cock.

Tentatively holding onto the base, I gave the tip of his cock a kitten lick. Testing the waters. I glanced up at Robert, seeing he had one of his huge hands rested on his hip. Like he did onstage. Fuck.

I kept my eyes on him as I wrapped my lips around him, steadily taking his length into my mouth. Cheeks hollowed, I sucked gently, a spark shooting through my core when his lips parted with a sigh.

“That’s it, darlin’. Mmm…” he grunted, shutting his eyes and hanging his head back once I set a satisfactory pace.

I let my saliva coat him, I swirled my tongue around his hot tip, I did anything I could, and more, to work this leviathan into a state of ecstasy. I wanted to see his chest shimmering in his sweat, the rogue blonde curls plaster to his forehead, and the taut muscles under his abdomen tense with an unbearable urge to take control.

He looked down at me, almost taken aback by my boldness when I started to pay attention to his tight, full balls. Flattening my tongue, applying pressure with the tip of it in the right places, even teasing him with the odd suction.

“So perfect… Fuuuck…” he moaned, and his free hand held onto my head. “Damn it, I schooled you well, babe…” Before he lost it completely and cut the night short, he pulled me up to my feet, barely having room between him and the bed. He crashed his lips into mine, tonguing my awaiting lips and grabbing onto my hips with mammoth hands.

My own hands flew up to bury them into his mane of hair, meeting his frantic kiss with a matching ferocity. He leaned down slightly to wrap his arms tightly around my thighs and hoist me up for a brief moment before ultimately dropping me down beneath him on the bed. The kiss was forcefully broken, and I needed more.

Robert kneeled in between my legs, keeping me completely at his mercy. Caressing my face, he studied me intently. As though he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me. His thumb tugged at my lip, and I earnestly took it into my mouth, grazing my teeth over it.

“My girl…” He traced the pads of his fingers down my chin, down my throat, down between my breasts. He stopped to cup them, thumbs teasing over the taut nipples that were electrified from his simple touch. “…you…” His fingers ventured lower, tickling down my sides. “…are…” Up my legs, under my thighs, over my tattoo, to my abdomen. Finally, he reached my centre, adorned with a small mass of soft curls. “A Goddess.”

One hand pressing lightly against my lower stomach, he used his other thumb to venture over my folds. Two little swipes, barely there, drew a gasp from my lips. He acknowledged this for a fleeting second, and smirked to himself when he brought his thumb up to his mouth to wet it. His appetiser.

His eyes were fixed on the sight below him as he placed his hand flat over my mound, pushing against it to open me up ever so slightly—enough to allow the pad of his thumb access to the bundle of nerves that had been throbbing with need for the past hour. He made continuous movements over it with his thumb, taking pleasure from my reaction.

“Sensitive baby…” he hummed, keeping up with his actions. He watched my form twitch lightly, hips automatically rolling upwards, and my mouth fall open.

There was no doubt that he could have made me cum like this. Just by rapidly swiping his thumb back and forth over my clit. He knew it, too. And for a moment I thought that was his goal. But he worked me up to such a high, to where it was impossible to miss the swelling his ministrations enforced and the progressive rise and fall of my chest.

Then he pulled away.

“Robert…” I whimpered, rolling my hips upwards again.

“You were so close, darlin’… so beautifully enthralled…” he practically moaned in response to my whimpers. He grasped onto my thighs, slowly pushing them forward towards my chest so I opened up entirely. “Do you want to cum, Y/N?” I nodded wantonly. “Tell me… let me hear it…” he coaxed, smoothly lowering himself to my thigh, where he pressed the lightest kiss. So, so close to my aching heat.

“I… Please… I want to cum, Robert…” I sighed, toes curling at the anticipation he had built. “Please… m-make me cum, baby, I need it.”

“I know, my sweet… I know…” he mumbled, kissing lower down. Just a little more… “You need it so bad, honey…” His face hovered over my weeping heat, having the sheer audacity to blow very lightly against it. “Speakin’ of honey… does my lady taste just as sweet as I remember…” He drawled, more of a vocalisation of his inner thoughts than a direct question.

“Robert! Please…” I whined.

He dived in, completely catching me off guard. Face buried as far as it could go, lips latching to my swollen clit, suckling, slurping, and flicking his tongue. He slobbered over it like a starving mongrel. His hair covered my thighs, curls bouncing with the movements of his head as he feasted on my nectar.

“Fuck!” I cried out, my hands shooting downwards to grasp onto his hair, tugging at the roots. He responded with a growl, the vibrations adding to the growing sensations between my legs.

He was feral. To him, this was his last meal.

“Oh…God… Robert, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!” I panted, once again allowing my hips to grind upwards in tandem with his tongue. He skipped further teasing by plunging two of his long fingers into me, curling them upwards and building a strong rhythm to match the way his tongue ravaged my pearl. “Y-yes… I’m… fuck…” I incoherently moaned.

Instead of verbally encouraging me, he simply moaned loudly against me, briefly nodding his head, letting me know it was okay to cum for him. He let out a sharp exhale, putting his all into his assault.

Instinctively pushing his head down, I felt my climax hit. Hard. I arched off of the bed and my head was thrown back into the fluffy pillows. I let out an almost animalistic groan, my breath halting in the process as I rode out the intensity of my orgasm.

Robert gave me the courtesy of letting me rest for a few moments, kissing my core in the process of the comedown. With glistening lips, he watched the aftershock contractions, admiring his work. Then he finally crawled back up to me, grabbing my face and meeting my lips with his, coated in my essence. The kiss was sloppy, and we had very little care for the mixture of fluids that covered both of our faces in the process.

“Robert…” my voice was muffled by his kisses. “Need…need you inside…”

“Already on it, darlin’,” he gasped, pulling himself up onto his knees. He eagerly guided his cock to my awaiting entrance, lubing himself up in the juices he’d conjured. He looked me in the eye as he steadily pushed forward, the thick girth of his manhood stretching me by the second.

My body tingled with the reminder of the burn and sting that accompanied a night with the Golden God. It was delicious.

Robert watched my face, looking for any indication of hesitation on my end. But my body welcomed his, and he easily settled to the hilt within me.

“‘S’that feel okay, baby?” he asked with a hurried whisper.

“Uh-huh…” I clamped down on my lip as I nodded.

“Yeah?” He got as close to me as he could whilst still on his knees. Once again, my legs were being pushed up towards my chest, allowing his cock to press against the most sensitive part of my body.

Robert didn’t waste time. He was unbridled. Primal. Insatiable. His thrusts were quick to set an intense pace, eliciting those lewd slapping sounds each time we collided.

“So good… baby…” he moaned, clenching his jaw and breathing heavily from his nose as he continued to fuck me into the mattress. My own moans and whimpers of ecstasy spurred him on, rolling his hips in a circular motion and maintaining pressure on my sweet spot.

“Oh fuck! Yeah, right there, baby…” I keened, having no choice but to fist at the pillow beside my head.

“Yeah? That the spot, darlin’?” He purred, before bringing one of my legs over so that both of them were pressed together. He rested them both on one of his shoulders, one arm holding onto them, whilst his other hand reached out to grab at my breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers as his thrusts intensified. “Ohhhh… fuuck, you’re so perfect around my cock, sweetheart.”

The positioning of my legs caused every contraction and flutter to be felt with ferocity by Robert. Nobody had ever taken me like this. But then again, nobody is quite like Robert.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, the unexpected rise of another release crawling up through my body. It wasn’t a progressive swell. The warning signs of another orgasm crashed into me, taking me by surprise, which only served to make the experience even more intoxicating.

Robert still had the ability, through his animalistic venture, to flash me that signature smirk as he caught onto my sudden response. He shook his hair from his face as he continued to pound into me. “You there again, darlin’?”

“Y-yeah… oh fuck, yeah, I am…” I whimpered, my chest rising and falling. This was going to be an intense one. And he knew it. So, he moved my leg back to rest atop his other shoulder and leaned down completely over me, folding me in such a visceral manner, though one of my legs fell slightly in the midst of him now slamming in and out of me.

“Come on, Y/N…” he hummed down at me, focusing on my second release before his first. “Show me how hard you can cum, little girl… I know you have it in you… I can feel it…” he breathed out hotly against my lips. His piercing blue eyes were glued to mine, and we maintained intense eye contact.

I huffed and panted in his face, digging my nails into the shoulder my leg had fallen from. It was coming. So close.

“Ah… R…Robert!” I gasped.

“That’s right, honey… you’re almost there… let go… make a mess of me…” He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t care that his thrusts were causing the headboard to start slamming against the wall.

His landscaped pelvis was grinding against my clit, and I could feel his tight balls slapping against me with every movement.

Then it happened.

“Fuck, I’m… I’m c—“ I cut myself off with a shriek, and the loudest cry of pleasure I’d ever mustered up. I came so hard around Robert’s cock, and my nectar wept and wept, soaking the sheets, and soaking both Robert and I. My body jerked and my ears rang, and I heard Robert offer up a breathless chuckle.

“My good girl… fuck! Shit, get ready, baby…” he warned, clasping onto my legs as he chased his high. “Fuck!” He let out the loudest guttural growl, his thrusts transitioning from inconsistent to completely stilled. He steadily and sharply pumped his load into me, filling me up with every inch of his love.

I felt so owned. Claimed. Possessed. Potent with the power and energy of this otherworldly human above me.

Robert writhed in the aftershocks of his release, and he soon let my legs fall back down onto the bed, followed by his own collapse onto my chest. He nuzzled me as we both fought to catch our breathes. I found comfort in the lewd sensations that came with him pulling out of me. I was dripping—soaked.

Robert eventually lifted his head up to look at me and he gave me a long, gentle kiss, accompanied with a sigh. “Sublime…” he whispered hoarsely. “We… definitely need to…get in that…bath, though…” he panted steadily.

I laughed weakly with a feeble nod of my head, “I… absolutely agree…” We had made an absolute mess of the bed, but it was entirely worth it.

“Sorry you only came…twice,” he playfully apologised, shifting to the side so only half of his weight was on me. “Ah well…” he sighed, sweeping some of my damp hair from my face. “Just have to give you…about five next time.”

I raised my eyebrows and turned my head to look at him with hazy eyes. “There’s a next time?”

“Oh, my sweet Little Wayward Girl,” he smirked, “There’s always a next time.”

[talesofbron]

Question: would anyone be interested in some fresh tooth decay, if I felt like adding some more episodes to "Page and Plant Genuinely Like Each Other" ?

[untilthenextencore]

"Nights To Remember Ch. 5: You Belong To Me~..."

~

~

Jimmy & Dahlia made their exit from the Chuco sometime after that. The smallest thing triggered it. The funniest thing. A song by the Duprees. And a shared look after one last dance.

"See the pyramids along the Nile…

Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle…

Just remember, darling, all the while…

You belong to me…"

The look they shared was laden with understanding. A flicker of a shared shy, sheepish smile. A soft laugh at how fitting the song was then.

They both knew it was time. It was in their nerves. In their blood. A little flicker in their eyes.

Jimmy laced his fingers through hers, hand swallowing hers as he gazed down at her. "Shall we?"

Dahlia nodded simply. "Let's go."

Jimmy slipped out of his jacket, draping it around her shoulders before leading her back out into the now much cooler night. He nodded & smiled in greeting, tossing a few waves to some cheering fans before they were both tucked safely back into the quiet private depths of the backseat of the town car he arrived in.

"Darling, you really shouldn't have run off like that. You really did give me quite a fright. Though I'm glad you left word for me with Peter." He tutted, patting her hand.

"Of course, baby." She reached up to cup his face tenderly & thumbed the swell of his cheek. "Like you already said I didn't want to worry you. I got bored back there but saw you were still having fun. I knew Peter would get the word to you in where I had gone. If you didn't already know or guess. I just got homesick I guess. Missed things. Missed the place. The fun. You know. The old days I guess."

The old days.

Memories danced in Jimmy's mind. Of more dances here. More dances at the Chuco. Inside under the tinted light. Outside on the patio. Under the streetlight. Under the stars. Under the moon.

From the first time she took him there in his Yardbirds days to then. Through all lengths of his hair. Through all lengths of his beard. Both before & after his beard. Pinstriped trousers, jeans, velvet bellbottoms. Silk blouses, lace trim, simple cotton. No matter what he wore he was always welcome. She was always welcome. They were always welcome.

It wasn't hard to see why she loved it.

Why she missed it.

Why she escaped.

The other party was the complete opposite.

Though she stuck out in both like a sore thumb - albeit a stunningly beautiful one - it was clear, she fit this one like a glove.

"I'm sorry if I worried you at all, Jimmy. I thought maybe if I went along with Robert when he offered you'd have less to worry about."

Jimmy stifled a laugh. Stifled a grin. Barely. After all these years. Even after that night. She still had no idea. He was glad in a way. It meant Robert hadn't tried anything. It also meant that certainly Magnet hadn't either. It meant she was still safe. Still his. Still secure.

"Forgive me?"

And thus, so was he.

Cupping her face in his large hands, Jimmy cooed in a dragon's curl of smoke from the cigarette he had just finished. "There's nothing to forgive, my dear. Nothing. As long as you're safe."

Dahlia beamed at him, placing her hands over his cupping her cheeks, starry-eyed as ever. "I had a wonderful time tonight, darling. Hope you did too. Despite the slight fright I gave you."

His smile grew before his lips pressed to her forehead once more. "My dearest. My sweetest. My loveliest. My only. My girl. My lady. My Dahlia."

His heart swelled in his chest at what he saw flickering in her gaze. The light. The devotion. The purity. Purity of gaze. Of heart. Of love. Of feeling. Of emotion. Pure, raw emotion.

All of this led him to make one simple promise. "The night's not over yet, my girl. My lady. It is but still young for us."

"I bless the day I found you…

I wanna stay around you…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Jimmy's smile brightened at the sound of the Everlys crooning over the radio. "Remember this song, my darling?"

"Don't take this heaven from one…

If you must cling to someone…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Dahlia's smile quirked in the same way. Instantly, she read his mind. "Palomino, 1969."

They shared a private giggle. A favorite date of theirs. A favorite memory of theirs. Jimmy taking Dahlia to see the Everly Brothers at the Palomino in 1969. Holding hands. Holding her close. Sneaking squeezes of her hand. Sneaking little clinches. Sneaking kisses. As they did before.

"Each time we meet, love…

I find complete love…

Without your sweet love…

What would life be?..."

As they did then.

Jimmy leant in & nuzzled Dahlia. Nuzzled his wife. She nuzzled back. A low growl sounded in his throat. A purr in hers. A chuckle followed from him. A giggle from her.

The partition rose between them & the front seat. Jimmy's arms came around Dahlia's back, hands caressing the skin left bare by her low backed dress. Dahlia shivered & purred again, reclining back as Jimmy leant her back into the seat. Her arms circled his shoulders as their nuzzling intensified & once again their lips met.

She shivered as she felt his silver jeweled pendant cool against her hot skin.

"Gee whiz, look at his eyes…

Gee whiz, how they hypnotize…

He's got everything a girl could want…

Man, oh, man, what a prize…

Oh, oh…"

As the song played Dahlia gazed up at him in the flickering, intermittent light. The dragon's green fire seared her to the core. A private smile was shared. A tandem flicker. The air crackling between the two as it so often did. And suddenly two pairs of curved lips crashed into each other.

"Heaven up above knows how much…

I love that fella's soul…

Angels sing of a love like this…

I hope our love will grow and grow…"

Jimmy's lips burned a trail of heated kisses down her throat as his hand blazed a trail up her skirt. Her legs fell open instantly. As if on command. Under his spell as ever. Open sesame.

"'Cause, gee whiz, I love that guy…

Gee whiz, my, my, oh my…

There are things we could do…

I could say I love you…

But all I can say is…

Gee whiz…"

His lips trailed back up to claim & conquer hers yet again. Dominating her again. Mauling her again. Dahlia nipped his lower lip softly, earning a throaty growl. The growl of course came with more hungry, devouring kisses.

A sudden gasp left Dahlia's lips, thighs tightening around his hand slightly as Jimmy's fingers shifted her panties aside & his middle finger pressed inside.

"Dahlia… My lady…" He panted.

Dahlia let her legs fall open just that bit wider. Jimmy's finger pressed deeper, curving towards those familiar places he knew so well would elicit those deliriously sweet sounds.

"Ah!..."

And little bucks & lifts & rocks of her hips as she was so doing then. Each little buck allowed her skirt to slip higher and higher up her thigh. The slipping slip dress thusly only revealed more and more of her shifted panties & his working fingers.

The sight of the flickering light, intermittent from passing cars & streetlights, flashing on her exposed core stirred him to no end. The sight of her lips parted. Him parting her lips. His fingers parting them & pumping. Curving. Pressing deep. Making her mewl. It stirred him… To action.

"Oh, my angel…

Come back to me…

And I will love you…

Till eternity…

Oh, my angel…

This fire in my heart…

Consumes my happiness…

Since we are apart…"

Jimmy let Dahlia slip from his arms momentarily, only to bring both hands to his belt & undo it.

"Dahlia… Forgive me… I need..."

Dahlia merely allowed herself to sink down onto the sear & giggled. "There's nothing to forgive… As you said, my love…"

Jimmy hurriedly undid & unzipped his trousers, freeing himself & allowing his length to fall free. Dahlia giggled again & softly stroked his length in greeting. Jimmy jolted, grunting, groaning deeply. He stilled himself, allowing her a few more smooth strokes before acting again.

Taking her hand & once more pressing a kiss to the back before draping her arms around his shoulders. Coming close, he gave her panties a tug down her thighs before embracing her once more. And with that, Jimmy rose over her, drawing his hips back & piercing her in one go.

"Ah!" Cane the tandem response.

"You're mine…

And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

The music was the perfect soundtrack as they lay wrapped in each other's arms. Another giggle was shared between the two before Jimmy pressed deeply once more. Another thrust. Another gasp.

"You're mine…

Your lips belong to me…

Yes, they belong to only me…

For eternity…"

Jimmy rolled his hips into hers slowly. Smoothly. Deeply. He drew out moan after moan. Sigh after sigh. Stirring her from deep within.

Dahlia's back arched, allowing Jimmy to slide the spaghetti straps down her shoulders. There he was able to bunch the silken dress at her waist. There he was able to trail kisses down her neck as her head craned back.

His lips trailed a heated path down to her breasts, circling her nipples & sucking them into peaks as his tongue batted & teased them. The sight of her panties, filmy & now sodden, ringing around her ankle led him to remove them, pocketing them secretly. Then, Jimmy's smile widened as Dahlia's legs wrapped around his waist. Her heels grazed the upholstery on the door behind him, her ankles locked behind his back as he drove consistently into her as they were driven around.

"You're my, my baby…

And you'll always be…

I swear by everything I own…

You'll always, always be mine…"

Dahlia watched as his pendants glinted in the light. Dangling & spinning. Hypnotizing her. Each thrust pierced her to her very core. Stealing her breath away. Her hands slipped under his jacket, sliding along the smooth expanse of skin along his back. Her fingers curled. Nails scoring into his shoulders.

His hips stuttered & faltered only momentarily before snapping harder & ever so slightly faster into her.

"You're mine…" The song crooned.

"Jimmy..." Dahlia mewled, arching her back slightly. The way her eyes both glittered & hazed over caught his eye. He recognized that. Recognized the way her nails dragged from his shoulders down his back. He hissed & shuddered & snapped his hips yet again, thrusting deeper still.

Her legs tightened around him. Walls tightened around him. Arms tightened around him. "Ahhh… Jimmy… Jimmy…"

"Are you close, darling?" He asked with a kiss, even though he already knew.

As he expected, he saw her nod slowly, still with that hazed starry-eyed gaze.

Jimmy smiled, sliding one hand down to brace her hip. His thumb swirled gently on her clit as he began to hone his thrusts in a very pointed fashion. Dahlia gasped softly. The gasp was muffled against his lips as he claimed hers in yet another passionate kiss.

"Mmmm… Me too…" He admitted, with a cheeky grin, muffling his subsequent chuckles into her lips just as she had muffled her gasps.

Now their hips rocked in unison. Lifting & rolling into a sweet, smooth grinding meeting. The two of them colliding over & over.

"Jimmy…" Dahlia mewled.

"Mmm-hmm…" He purred, wrapping one arm around her back, the other hand bracing her thigh, keeping it close to him.

"Jimmy… Jimmy…" She nipped his lower lip, causing him to growl. The sound vibrated through her body, making her shiver & clench around him.

She felt him drive into her clenching tightness in a few short quick thrusts, aiming for her spot just so & jolted. Another gasp fell from her lips as her back arched. She clutched into him & with the last of his thrusts as he grunted & groaned, he spilled & she shattered.

Galaxies collided as their bodies had, shattering & spreading stardust across her vision, the stars he had seen in her eyes sealed with a bated breath sigh of his name & kiss.

"Jimmy..."

The same stars she saw alight in his now as his lids fluttered open. Emerald depths twinkling in greeting as their gazes met.

"My lady…"

"Jimmy…"

Her fingers drew their last trails down his back. Another hiss fell from his lips as he stirred deep within her, filling her as he braced her body to his. Large right hand still bracing her thigh to his hip. His left arm still wrapped around her, keeping her stomach flush against his.

"I love you…"

He swore as his lips retook & staked their claim on hers at the same time. Deep, passionate, grateful, sated, yet all the more hungry kisses greeted her on the way down as they both recovered.

"I love you…"

She sighed her pledge in return.

Another purr sounded as despite the eternity their hurried climb & easy float down from their peak seemed to take, they both registered the last words of the song then on the radio. Fitting as ever. As always.

"And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

~

Hope y'all enjoy~!

As ever, this is forever under construction~!

[theoriginaleppieblack-blog]

Doll Stuff I’m workin On

Tris & Alex explore another vintage Barbie space - a 1972 Barbie ski cabin.

[maziecrazycloud]

Aisling Cowan’s interview and profile in June 1973 by Music Scene journal. Written by Oliver Thornberry (an unexpected ally) music journalist based in Seattle, Washington.

[teaforqne]

just finished reading this oh my god someone give this woman a hug WHAT THE FUCKKKK

I'm Gonna Put You Down For A While (Robert Plant x Fem!OC)

Hi! So I'm back with some more Robert/Evanna. I just got the random inspiration for an idea for these two late at night, and bust it out overnight. It's not as good as my usual stuff but smut and angst is what I have the most fun writing. So I hope someone enjoys it. :)

Takes place in early 1970. Evanna has been seeing Robert Plant for the past four months, and the more she spends time with him, the more she feels herself falling for him. But Robert does not want to be in a committed relationship with anyone and wants to keep things casual between the two of them. Evanna respects this decision and decides to stop sleeping with him. But quitting the Golden God is not easy.

Rating: Mature (very smutty, minors please dni!)

Warnings: Angst, smut, counter sex, high sex. Hurt/no comfort.

@bijouxcarys @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @jimmysdragonsuit13

@callmethehunter @firethatgrewsolow @brownskinsugarplum76

@m-faithfull @dzdndcnfsd @friccinfricks

@elliotts-personal-property @jimmypage7 @teaforqne @chromations

Let me know if you want to be tagged for future fics. :)

After spending four years in a relationship in which affection was withheld from her as a form of punishment, there was one thing that Evanna was sure of: she hated being toyed with. 

Robert had made it clear from the beginning that he wasn’t looking for anything long term and had wanted to keep things between him and Evanna casual. She was okay with that at first; the man had thousands of groupies at his disposal, ready to fulfill his every desire. Why would he want to be tied down to one woman? 

But Evanna did not like being used for pleasure and discarded. Every time she went to bed with him, she could feel a piece of her soul leaving her and being attached to him. 

She was speeding towards inevitable heartbreak, and she knew it. 

She eventually decided to break things off before it ended in tears and yelling like things had ended with Geoffrey.  

The contrast between the two of them was like day and night. When Evanna thought back on her relationship with her ex, she was filled with memories of coldness and paranoia - as if she were walking on eggshells that would someday cause him to explode on her again. But with Robert, he was like a bright ray of sunshine that warmed her from the years of being frozen to the bone. Being wrapped in his arms made her feel safe and loved. 

The idea of walking away from that feeling made her feel like an iron fist was clenching at her heart. The coldness was threatening to take her over again… 

Evanna was setting up her camera in the photographer’s pit several hours before the concert. Hyper-focusing on her job used to help her stay distracted from her personal life problems, but after falling into Robert’s arms - into his bed, multiple times over the past four months - she felt like this was only making her problems worse.  

Still, the quietness of the empty venue gave her a chance to try and clear her thoughts. 

That was, until she felt a familiar warmth as a pair of hands planted themselves on her hips. She mentally groaned, turning around to find her face against Robert’s chest. She had to tilt her head back to look into his face to find him grinning down at her.  

“Shouldn’t you be backstage warming up?” she asked him while taking a step back to free herself from his intoxicating spell. 

Robert let out a quiet chuckle. “I’ll be fine, darlin’. I’d rather be warmin’ you up.” He snaked one arm around her waist, pulling her up against him. She gasped, her hands flattening against his chest. He was wearing a button-down black shirt, and she could feel his warmth practically searing her through the fabric.  

“I have to work, Robert…”  

“Not for the next couple of hours,” he said while leaning in to give her neck and ear a playful nip. She could hear the rational part of her brain screaming at her, reminding her of her decision to stop giving her body to him if they were not in a serious relationship. But she couldn’t help herself. It felt so good. He felt so good, just with his kisses alone. 

“I thought you said you didn’t want anything serious…” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t still enjoy each other,” he said, an infuriatingly smug smirk playing across his beautiful face. 

He led her to the side of the stage, propping her up on the platform and peppering kisses along her jaw and neck. She let out a heavy sigh, feeling tempted to just let him kiss her worries away.  

But she couldn’t. Not knowing that it would eventually lead to her eventual heartache. 

She placed both hands on his chest and pushed him away. He gave her a confused expression. 

“Robert… I can’t do this…” 

He took a strand of her auburn hair and twirled it between his fingers. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked the question in such a gentle manner, she almost felt guilty for pushing him away. He had let her know from the beginning what the nature of their relationship would be. It wasn’t as if he had led her on to believe he wanted anything more than sex.  

It’s your own fault for developing feelings, she told herself. 

“No… it’s not you… I just… don’t want to continue having sex if there’s nothing else there,” she explained, unable to look him in the face as she kept her head down. 

She could feel Robert soften, even as she wasn’t looking at his expression. “Did I not make you feel good?” 

She furrowed her brow in bemusement. Is that really what he thought? That he hadn’t satisfied her? 

“What? Of course you did. It was… the best sex I ever had…” She felt her cheeks burn as she admitted that to him. She could feel his hand gently stroke her chin to bring her eyes up to meet his. She didn’t want to tell him the real reason: that he had made her feel too good, and that every time he entered her, she felt a piece of her soul leave her and cling to him. 

He placed a hand on her cheek, and she couldn’t stop herself from melting at his touch. He was so warm. 

“We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to,” he said while leaning in to murmur in her ear. Even as he spoke these words, his voice was low and seductive, and she could feel the heat pooling between her legs. 

Despite her insistence that she distance herself from him, she felt an emptiness in her heart as he finally had to pull away to get ready for the concert. She turned her attention back to her camera as the venue started to crowd. 

Back when Evanna’s relationship with Geoffrey had been mentally and emotionally draining her due to his constant emotional abuse, music had been a balm for her soul, healing her and wrapping her in an embrace that seemed to soothe every bit of hurt that he had caused her. 

Now, it would have had that same effect on her if Robert had not been on vocals.  

His voice had a way of seducing everyone in the crowd, of captivating the most unwitting spectator. Before, while Led Zeppelin’s music had felt like an embrace and comfort against the pain that Geoffrey was causing her, now it felt like an embrace but in a different way. It felt like he was making love to her all over again but with his voice. She knew that the same moans and shrieks that he made on stage were the same noises he made while she rode his cock. 

As did probably half the girls who were watching him backstage right now, she thought to herself bitterly. 

One of the roadies beckoned her to come backstage to get closer shots of the band. Evanna followed him.  

Evanna focused on getting closer shots of each individual member, zooming her lens in to capture their faces. She saved Robert for last, though she felt tempted to skip him all together. 

She let the music carry her away, her attention switching between Jonesy’s basslines to one of Jimmy’s guitar solos to some wildly aggressive drum solo that Bonzo was doing.  

Jimmy was in the middle of one of his ten-minute guitar solos during Dazed and Confused when one of the groupies were passing around a joint. Evanna stared at the long stick, thinking about how it was a very bad idea before taking a drag out of it. Perhaps it was due to her lack of experience with taking drugs, but she was pretty sure this was very strong weed. 

Someone had brought out a couple of sofas from the dressing rooms to the side of the stage and Evanna soon found herself sitting next to Robert and several other girls. The joint was passed to Robert, and he took a drag, seeming to be a lot more seasoned than she was when it came to marijuana. 

The thoughts she had earlier of distancing herself from Robert completely vanished as she stared at him through her marijuana-induced haze. His golden hair seemed to dance all around him like the rays of the Sun. His face was so beautiful, she thought. He was a Sun God whom she wanted to worship and bow at his feet like he had done with her so many times before in bed. 

She clung to his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder possessively. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders before bringing her lips up to meet his. They kissed passionately, and she was seemingly oblivious to the groupies giving her envious looks. 

Robert eventually had to pull away to go back on stage after Jimmy’s guitar solo was over. He was obviously buzzed from the joint but sang beautifully regardless.  

Everyone and everything were so beautiful, Evanna realized. The colors and stage lights were coming to life before her very eyes. Robert transformed into a deity as bright and as beautiful as the Sun. Jimmy transformed into his dark, Moon-like counterpart. Jonesy and Bonzo’s rhythm section ingrained itself into her very blood, causing the music to pulse through her veins. 

Evanna knew that she had to take as many pictures as possible while the colors were this beautiful. She circled the stage, snapping as many pictures as possible. She grinned, thinking to herself ‘this is my best work yet!’ 

Robert excitedly announced John Bonham as the percussionist before Jimmy and Jonesy started out the riff of Moby Dick. He quickly rushed over to Evanna, taking her by the arm and leading her to his dressing room. Every thought of staying to get pictures of Bonzo, as well as staying away from Robert to protect her own heart, was out the window. She didn’t protest as Robert led her away to his dressing room, lost in a kiss as their hands were exploring everywhere. 

By the time they reached his dressing room, they wasted no time. She quickly got rid of her jeans before sitting up on the counter. Robert unbuttoned his tight bell bottoms before pulling them down to his knees. He gripped her hips before pulling her against him. He kissed her as he slid himself into her. 

Evanna threw her head back and moaned in sheer ecstasy as she felt that sharp sting of him stretching her. The world around her seemed to swim as she clenched around him as he slowly started thrusting. Her hands clutched at his shoulders to steady herself as their pace quickly sped into their familiar erotic dance. They moved in sync with one another, their moans and grunts loud and unapologetic. 

“Evanna…” Gods, she loved the way he moaned her name, as he tasted each syllable on his tongue. She panted and buried her hands into his hair as she pulled him closer to her, pressing her forehead against him as his thrusts became deeper and quicker. Being this close to him felt like she was making love to the Sun itself. His heat and radiance felt like it was searing her skin, and his golden hair was making a curtain around them both, wrapping her in the golden rays of the Sun while she was being ravished by it at the same time. 

She felt a sharp stinging in her clit as he thrust into her deeper, causing her to clench hard around him. 

“Fuck, Robert, don’t stop…!” she whined as her back arched against the mirror on the wall.  

She could feel a low growl in his chest as he unbuttoned her blouse while keeping the pace of his thrusts. He seemed visibly annoyed by the black lace brassiere that was creating a barrier between his mouth and her breasts. She could feel him fumble around for the clasp and push the thin lace away to tease her nipple with his teeth and tongue.  

She moaned louder, winding her hands through his hair, trying to keep the Sun on her for as long as possible, not caring that she would end up badly burned afterwards. The rush she felt from him being inside her was worth the price she would eventually pay. Because like the Sun, she knew he could never fully be hers, she realized with an ache in her heart. 

She moaned in time with each of his thrusts. Bonzo only had a few minutes left of his drum solo, so they would have to make things quick. As his thrusts became deeper and more deliberate, he took her nipples into his mouth, sucking and tugging on them with his teeth, turning them into taut points.  

“Robert, I’m getting close-“ 

He shushed her, kissing her softly before holding her hips more firmly against his so that he could thrust into her so deep, the tip of his cock brushed against her cervix. 

She cried out as she held onto him tightly, which only pulled him deeper into her. She could feel his balls tighten against her, the sound of their skin slapping against each other filling the room. She quietly prayed that no one would walk in on them, though even if they did, she knew that neither of them would be able to bring themselves to stop. 

Robert’s face buried into her neck as his pace became faster, causing her to clench around him again. She felt his breath against her neck as he murmured something that sounded like “unghh, come with me…” 

She panted as her hands convulsed in his hair, her face contorting with pleasure as her back arched. They both climaxed together - two orgasms that were so powerful, it was as if the Sun had exhausted itself as the explosion engulfed her, heat searing her skin, melting away her resolve until her soul lay naked before him as they both rode out the waves of pleasure. 

His name as well as a string of curses came rolling off her tongue as she clung to him in the aftermath. 

She had never come undone so easily with anyone else. Not even her ex. Fuck, she couldn’t even remember that guy’s name in this moment. 

Robert’s face was still buried in her neck, his teeth sinking into her neck when he came inside her. But she had been so caught up in the throes of her own orgasm, she hardly felt the pain. 

When they finally stopped moving, she was panting heavily, trying to catch her breath. He was still inside her, as if she was too warm and comfortable to ever want to leave. Bonzo could be heard reaching the end of his drum solo, so they only had a few more minutes. 

He whimpered something into her now bruised neck: “I love you.” 

Evanna flinched, thinking that she must have misheard him. 

“What did you say?” The haze of the joint she smoked earlier was wearing off, and she was no longer having psychedelic visions. The aftermath of their encounter was still in full effect, however. 

Robert raised his head to look at her, resembling a confused lion cub. His face was pale, as if just realizing that he said that out loud. 

He pulled out of her suddenly, leaving her with an empty and cold feeling.  

“I’m sorry, Evie, I didn’t mean…” 

Evanna’s brow furrowed. He never called her by her nickname. He had always used her full name, as if he couldn’t bear to be parted with even a syllable of it.  

She reached for him, but he pulled away, tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping them back up. 

“Robert, please-“ She didn’t know how to finish that plea. Please don’t leave her? She had known from the beginning that he had never promised her anything.  

She reached for him, but he pulled away, unable to meet her eyes. She felt her heart break in her chest. 

“I need to go back out…” he whispered while keeping his eyes averted to the ground. 

“Robert, please don’t feel sorry… I… I lo-“ 

“Don’t,” he cut her off, this time meeting her eyes even though it pained him to do so. “Don’t say anything you’ll end up regretting.” 

She shook her head and took a step closer to him. “I don’t regret you.” 

He gave her a pained look before slowly raising his hand as if he wanted to stroke her cheek but pulled his hand away at the last moment. 

“Do you regret me?” she asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “No.” 

“Did you mean what you said?” 

Robert opened his mouth but then closed it, a pained look in his eyes as his mouth formed in a tight line. “Look, I’m not… built for relationships, okay? It will just end like it did with-“ He cut himself off and looked away from her. 

Jimmy and Jonesy were back out on stage now, performing the end of the song. Robert turned to leave. 

Evanna grabbed his hand. “Robert, I-“ 

“Evie, I have to get back onstage.” 

“Why are you calling me that!?” 

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Everyone calls you that.” 

“I know, but you never do! You…” She tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to come forth. Everything she had known was going to eventually happen was happening. “Why are you acting like this…?” 

Robert took a deep breath. “Look, maybe you were right about us needing to stop sleeping with each other.” 

“Funny how you say that after you just finished fucking me!” 

One of the roadies pounded on the door. “Plant! They need you back onstage!” 

Robert turned to face Evanna, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t think…” He couldn’t finish his sentence without confessing to feelings that he obviously did not want to have. “I need to get back…” 

He turned and left the dressing room, leaving Evanna in there with her disheveled clothes and hair. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks despite her attempt to fight them. Her heart ached in her chest as she adjusted her clothes back to their original state. She couldn’t stop herself from feeling this way, from having her heart be drawn to the man who she knew deep down could never give her what she truly wanted. 

The words he had murmured into her neck had hurt her the most because she genuinely did not know if he meant them or not. And if he hadn’t, then it only broke her heart more because she had. She had felt this way ever since he had offered her his shoulder to cry on four months ago. It hadn’t happened immediately, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had fallen so deeply in love with him, and nothing could pull her out of it.