#roger daltrey x reader

[born-to-lose-writing]

You Make It Feel Like Christmas

Pairing: old!Roger Daltrey x reader

Requested by anon

Summary: You spend the holiday season with Roger.

Tags: fluff, one sexual reference

Words: 1,321

A/N: Since I've been down bad for old man Roger lately, here's some Christmas fluff 💖

Tag list: @johnentwistlesbassguitar

These weren't your first holidays with Roger, but the first you spent with him entirely after you had only had a small personal celebration on the 23rd last year before spending actual Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with your families, respectively. To say the least, you were excited to experience the whole holiday magic as you now lived with him and had the chance to prepare for and celebrate Christmas with someone you loved like you had dreamed of.

However, Roger was a worthy opponent in the battle of who was more excited. Since mid-November, he had pointed out nearly daily how many days there were until Christmas. You adored how he was still looking forward to it this much while most people his age weren't too invested anymore and only saw the stressful side of the holidays. Despite having played Ebenezer Scrooge, he wasn't one at all.

It was almost like he was a child again, especially when you started decorating the house. He had plenty of decorations—many from the time when his daughters and sons were little—and he let you go through them all and choose this year’s theme. In case you found you needed more, he offered to buy some with you, but his selection was good enough and you only ended up getting a new table runner while you accompanied Roger buying presents for his kids and grandkids.

You had met them all separately before during your time with Roger, but this year, you were going to be together with his whole family for the first time as they were coming over for Christmas Day. You were a little anxious, even though there was no real reason to be, yet you also couldn't wait to see them all again, not least because Roger was happy whenever they visited him.

First, you decorated outside the house, but it was inside where you got to be more creative, putting up fairy lights, candle arches, paper stars, bows, snow globes, nutcrackers, porcelain figures and whatever else you found in his collection. You regularly asked Roger if he thought it was too kitschy, but he just watched you adoringly, handing you more decorations with sparkling eyes and saying he got to decorate every year, so you were welcome to do whatever you wanted.

Obviously, you let him help you decide where to put the items you had picked. That way, it was more fun for both of you and to reward yourselves afterwards, he made some eggnog and you cosied up to the fireplace in the living room together.

“We should get matching socks, shouldn't we?” you suggested, rubbing your leg against his.

“I wasn't going to reveal it until Christmas Eve, but I got us two pairs,” he said after a short pause. “It's not the only thing I have for you, so if you want, we can wear them earlier than that.”

“You really think of everything, don't you? It’s up to you, I don't mind only getting them for Christmas either,” you shrugged.

Roger put his mug down and wrapped both arms around you. Suddenly, you started giggling. “What is it?” he asked, smiling because you sounded like you were up to something.

“I also got matching outfits for us, but you'll definitely only see them in three weeks.”

“That’s okay, I like surprises,” he laughed, interlocking his fingers with yours. He did like surprises, but he was curious what your matching outfits would be; he had a feeling it would either be ugly Christmas sweaters or those silly costumes you could get at department stores.

Besides decorating and other projects Roger had to keep busy and liked to involve you in, you took walks on most days and when it snowed, it was even better. There wasn't enough to build a snowman or make snow angels, but it was nice to just watch the snowflakes fall and realise that Christmas was coming closer.

Of course, you also baked at least twice a week and always together. Roger's recipes were the best and it was no wonder the cookies, cupcakes and cakes you made were gone within two days.

You put down the tray of cookies and turned around to get a plate from the cupboard, but bumped into Roger, who was puckering his lips. “Give me a kiss!”

“Again?” you asked, surprised. He had just kissed you before turning off the oven when the timer rang.

“Didn't you see the mistletoe?” He grinned and nodded up at the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling above you.

You wondered where he even picked as much mistletoe as he hung up all over the house, insisting it's tradition every time you were standing underneath one. However, you were not complaining at all. You would kiss him all day if you could and he was committed to getting as close to kissing you all day as possible. His smile each time you leaned in to give into his gentle demands was the cutest thing.

You chuckled, putting your arms around his middle and pointing out, “You put them up everywhere, and I know you have one behind your back.”

Roger moved his face towards yours and closed his eyes, mumbling, “Mhm, that's for special kisses.”

Then he raised his occupied hand above your heads and eagerly kissed you—deeper than your usual chaste and sweet mistletoe kisses. In the heat of the moment, he pressed you against the edge of the counter, but he soon pulled away and reached up to open the cupboard, handing you the plate you had almost forgotten about by now.

“Thank you,” you said, still playing with the curls at the back of his head and pecking his lips before he stepped aside to let you get back to what you had been doing.

Finally, the day to see your promised matching outfits came. You had wrapped them in pretty paper and gave Roger his, leaving the room to get dressed yourself. Watching each other change was no issue at all, but you found it would make for a more dramatic reveal if you did that separately. Your costume probably looked more stupid than his, but you liked wearing it for a laugh.

You heard footsteps getting louder from the doorway of the living room and before you stood Roger dressed up as Santa Claus, wearing his classic wide smile. As you looked him up and down with a grin, he put his hands on his stomach and laughed exaggeratedly. Due to the way his normal laugh often sounded like a jolly elf, your costume may have been fitting for him too. Perhaps next year. However, he looked better in this outfit than you had expected. A little silly, but it suited him and he seemed to be having fun with it.

“Father Christmas? More like Daddy Christmas,” you purred teasingly, walking up to him and placing the matching hat on his head.

He put his hands on his hips and looked over the edge of his glasses. “Don't make me add you to the naughty list.”

“Oh come on, I’m only guilty of innocence,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him. God knows he had been naughtier than you, though much less now than back in the day, which you appreciated in certain aspects.

Roger sat in the armchair next to him and you immediately took a seat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. He gently put a hand on your thigh to keep you in place and smiled, stroking it with his thumb. Then he straightened up and asked like a mall Santa, but with genuineness in his tone, “What's your wish, darling?”

You stayed silent for a moment, getting lost in his blue eyes. “I have everything I could wish for,” you replied, gently pulling down his fake beard and cupping his cheeks as you leaned in to kiss him.

[earthfire-75]

Kashmir

Chapter One, Part Two: Kashmir (The Trick is to Keep Breathing)

Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music , beta-ed by @lady-jane-revisited

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips, “I’ll get them for you.”

“No thank you Robert, Grant gave me the money and I’ll pay for it.”

“Oh please, just one of them then?”

I shook my head, “No it’s fine. Besides, we need to head back.”

He pursed his lips and huffed, “Alright, if you say so.”

The purchase was completed and it was time to head out, however Robert was speaking to the woman behind the counter; or flirting no less. She nodded her head and wrote something down on a note by the dresses that he brought to her.

“Thank you darlin’, have a pleasant rest of your day.”

I chuckled, “Giving her the number to your hotel room?”

“Not exactly, Anjelika. Come on we better hurry, the party’s going to start soon and you still need to do your hair and makeup,” he informed.

Somewhere along the line, we lost the other three band members. Robert took me to the hotel they were staying at, figuring they would all meet up there anyway. He let me borrow his bathroom to change and do my hair and makeup.

“What kind of party is it? Formal or informal?”

“Well, I’m wearing a suit, if that helps?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ok.” I picked out the longer dress and started getting ready. I could hear Robert rummaging around in the other room and assumed he was doing the same. I just finished when Robert knocked on the door.

“I need the mirror, love. Gotta comb out my hair and beard.”

I flung the door open, grabbing the comb from the counter. “Don’t you dare take a comb to those curls! Tell me you have a pick.”

He swallowed. “Technically? I left it at home?”

I didn’t say anything else, but grabbed his hand and pulled him out to the common room and to the couch. I then sat, pulling him down next to me. It was then I noticed what suit he was wearing, and still with his beard. Fuck! He wasn’t yet wearing the jacket, but he had the vest on and the top two or three bottoms of his shirt were left undone. Now it was my turn to swallow hard as I leaned in with the comb to fix his beard. Then I started to run my fingers through his hair carefully.

“If you forget your pick again, use your fingers, not a comb or brush. You could ruin your curls otherwise.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Good. Now, we should probably get going.”

We both stood and, as Robert grabbed his jacket from the arm of the couch, we left the hotel room and headed downstairs. “The party is being held in the hotel restaurant,” Robert informed me.

At first, the party seemed more like a meet and greet with the other roadies and their tour manager, who seemed unimpressed that I was “some bird” Jimmy picked up off the street. But none of the boys were having it. Robert happily reassured the crew that I was indeed more than “some bird,” that in fact I was assigned to be a part of the touring as well. To be equipped with the behind the scene matters and the roadies would simply need to learn to live with this sudden change. Being the new kid in town was never easy, and I was feeling beyond self conscious about this, however I had to keep my intrusive thoughts at bay. New learning opportunities would be coming up and it was all a matter of learning the ropes. Even if a fair amount of the crew thought of me as another to be shared among the members of the band, especially with Robert since he had locked arms with me.

The party started off fairly quiet at first as we all sat down at our tables to listen to a congratulatory speech from Grant. He had nothing but high expectations for everyone involved and that this tour would be bigger and heavier than the previous one. I felt a hand touch my lap and I followed the arm to see Robert’s concerned expression. I gave him a little smile to reassure him that I was alright. The last thing that I needed to do was interrupt Peter in the middle of his talk, and right before my first day no less.

A line was formed as everyone made their way to be serviced by the chefs. All manner of succulent cuts of meat, freshly cooked fish, bubbling champagne, and assorted hors d'oeuvres were ready to be served. Everything looked so delicious and oh so appetizing, I just simply couldn’t believe my eyes. As we stood in line, I overheard Jonesy and Jimmy mention something, although it was hard to hear amongst the chatter of Robert talking to Bonzo.

“How do you suppose they’ll feel about touring?” Jimmy asked.

Jonesy shrugged, “Well, hopefully their antics won’t take away from the show. And your guitars won’t get demolished as well.”

Jimmy scowled, “If he even thinks about touching any of my guitars, I’ll bash his head in!”

“If you do, she’ll end up giving you a black eye. You know that she has a bit of a ‘short’ temper,” the bassist chuckled. “Besides, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Well you're the bass guitar player, none of your things will be obliterated,” Jimmy whined.

Bonzo joined in, “Not unless a certain someone decides to shove a cherry bomb in the strings.”

Jonesy smiled and rolled his eyes, “Well I suppose I’ll just need to stand close to Thunderfingers won’t I?”

Guitars being destroyed? Cherry bombs? My curiosity peaked, however I didn’t want to interrupt their conversation. At least not until I knew a little more of what or who they were referring to. We made our way to the table and enjoyed our delicious food and sparkling drinks. The champagne flowed like rain down our throats as the appetizing meals made our mouths water. A few questions were directed to me regarding how I was feeling about the new job and I answered honestly.

I smiled meekly, “Well I’m very excited about this. This is going to be something different for me for sure, but I’ll do my best.”

“You will darlin’, you will,” Robert smirked as he patted my hand. “So how long have you been playing and singing?”

“Well, for a while actually. I just picked up a few lessons from my dad and just… learned a bit on my own.”

Jimmy noted, “I did a bit of session work when I was a lad. Learned a few things myself along the way.”

Robert butted in, “Well I hope we can hear more of your singing and playing while on tour. I think you’ll sound wonderful, and the audience will love it.”

I felt myself clam up a bit at the prospect of playing before a live audience, even though it was a touching notion on Robert’s part. I didn’t think it was necessary to get myself even more involved than necessary, especially since a fair amount of the road crew weren't exactly pleased with me being here. I gave Robert a little smile and a shrug and let him know that we could put that idea on the back burner.

“I’m curious though…who were the three of you talking about earlier? You mentioned something about guitars being destroyed?” I asked. I had hoped they would have said more by now, but since they hadn’t and my curiosity was getting the better of me…I had to ask.

Jonesy laughed a little. “Interesting wording. We were talking about another band who will be touring with us. Interestingly enough, they are called The Who. They’ve got a habit of destroying their equipment. Jimmy was concerned it might spill over to ours as well.”

I know of them, of course and of that particular habit, though I had thought they had stepped doing so by this time. Then again, it's a different universe, likely also a different timeline. “I see,” I said instead. Looking at Bonzo, I got his attention. It was as good a time as any to talk to him, but I didn’t know what the other boys knew.

“Bonzo? Can we talk? Alone?”

“Uh, sure. Looks like there’s a spot at the bar surprisingly clear of people.”

We got up from the table and walked over to the bar, ordering ourselves a drink before I started the conversation, but Bonzo beat me to it.

“So…yer a Nightbane too?” He asked with such nonchalance.

“Yeah, I am. So are you. Do they know?”

“Yeah, they do. Rob found out first. He was there during my Becoming. Scared the daylights out of ‘im, but it was like he still knew it was me. Jimmy found it ‘fascinating’. Jonesy took it the worst, almost left the band when he first found out. But he came around.”

I nodded in acknowledgment and downed my drink. How did the fact that they all knew Bonzo was a Nightbane make it both a relief and up my anxiety about them finding out I was one too? Would they be able to accept the creature beneath as easily as they had with Bonzo? Granted my other form wasn’t monstrous in the traditional sense, yet, I still worried it would scare them off at best.

Bonzo smiles a little. “Don’t worry, Jonesy might freak out a little, but I really don’t think you need to worry about Rob and Jimmy at all.”

“Thanks, Bonzo.”

Someone cleared their throat behind us and we turned to see Robert. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but the other bands just showed up. I thought you might like to meet them, Anjelika.”

He stepped to the side and I found the members of The Who standing there, looking at me. I knew each of them by name and face, even as they introduced themselves, though I did a double take as my eyes landed on the shortest member. There, with the same blue eyes I had seen so many times before, was a very feminine looking Roger Daltrey. Now I know I’m not in my own universe…

“Rogina Daltrey,” she introduced herself to me, her blue eyes never leaving mine.

“Anjelika,” I responded back with a smile and she in return gave me a smirk.

“Bonzo!” Keith uttered, a drink in one hand as he hugged his fellow drummer, “You gained a few stones since last I saw you.”

Bonzo rolled his eyes as he chortled, holding his head in a strong arm grip. Keith complained that his champagne would fall out, but that didn’t stop Bonzo from treating him like a sibling. “Moonie, why don’t you and the lads say hello to our new friend here, yeah?”

John and Pete made their acquaintances, Keith was able to give her a little wave of his hand until Bonzo finally let him go and gave him a good slap on the back.

“You’ll have to excuse Keith, he’s a bit loonie as you can see,” Pete explained. “So what brings you here?”

“Well I’ll be going on tour with the band, and it looks like I’ll be seeing you four as well.”

Rogina interjected, “Is that right? What will you be doing?”

“A roadie, so I’ll be around helping with getting everything ready,” I mentioned.

“She might even do a bit of performing as well,” Robert mentioned proudly.

I was silent as The Who stared at me, my throat becoming dry. I tried to play off his comment as a joke, “Good one Robert. He’s just kidding-”

Rogina tilted her head as she looked at me, “Are you sure? Because if you can sing, we’d love to hear you.”

My heart was pounding, all I could give her was an unsure shrug, “Um, another time… maybe. Say why do you all go get something to eat, the food is very delicious here.”

Keith was already off to find himself a plate, with John closing in behind him. Pete kept himself occupied with discussing business matters with Jimmy and Grant. Rogina on the other hand decided to stay and talk a bit more. Everything about this Roger was pretty much the same: The height, the golden corkscrew curls, ocean blue eyes, toothy grin, muscular arms, and stylish clothing. Still it was odd speaking with her, considering the obvious factors such as a slightly higher register in her voice and the presence of breasts that protruded from her suit.

“So how did you manage to work with Zeppelin?” Rogina asked.

I tried to answer as best as I could, “Oh well… you see Jimmy let me know that a spot was available actually.” I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t tell her that Jimmy had found me like an abandoned cat in an alleyway that he felt sorry for. A little of me to say, but still I couldn’t seem to add that in.

“Is it true what Robert said about you performing? I mean you seemed awfully quiet when he brought it up.”

I sighed at the question, barely keeping myself from pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m quickly learning that Robert's a little like a puppy…very excitable. I played a little bit for them to prove that I know what I’m doing with the guitars. Something came over me and I sang a little bit too. I never agreed to playing in front of anyone else. Let alone in front of a huge audience.”

Rogina’s smile softened at that. “He really is, though I’m sorry to hear you won’t be playing. The offer is always open and I meant what I said, I'd love to hear from you. if you change your mind.”

I returned her smile and I knew I was going to love this version of Roger too. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

G made his way over with a couple other people, one looked vaguely familiar, the other I didn’t recognize. “Anjelika! I want to introduce you to Ahmet Ertegun, owner of Atlantic Records. He’s here to support the boys. And this is Alice Cooper, joining us on the American leg of the tour.”

Both men stuck a hand out for me to shake. I took Ahmet’s first who placed his other hand over mine gently. “I must thank you for joining the road crew, dear. Though, I must admit, I was shocked to hear you were a woman. Forgive me, I mean no offense, it’s just never been done before.”

I smiled at Ahmet, trying not to take offense. It may be a different universe, but apparently the ‘70’s were still the ‘70’s. Turning to Alice, I shook his hand next, barely recognizing him without the makeup.

“I don’t know if shocked is the word I would have used, but I guess I am a little surprised. Didn’t figure I’d see a female roadie for another decade at least. Don’t get me wrong, I love that women are getting more and more involved in rock. And if anyone gives you any shit, just say the word.”

My smile grew wider at Alice’s genuine words. “Thank you, I appreciate that. Though, I assure you, I can handle myself.”

“I’m certain you can, but the offer is still on the table. I would like to stay and get to know you a little more, but I need to get back to my girlfriend. It was nice meeting you, Anjelika.”

“I’m sure there will be time to get to know each other more on the road and it was nice to meet you too.”

“Fair enough. See you tomorrow, then.” And with that he was off. G and Ahmet soon excused themselves to go talk to the boys and I was left at the bar once more with Rogina next to me.

Rogina sighed, “I know this must be all new to you. Believe me that being a woman involved in rock and roll seems to weird people out, especially guys.”

I gave her a reassuring grin, “Yeah, I’m sure you probably have gone through a lot.”

Rogina took a sip of her flute, “I may have a few stories. One of them involves Keith actually.”

I leaned in, “What happened?”

“Well let’s just say he thought that he could get away with copping a feel. He lost a couple of teeth that night,” Rogina chuckled. “The bastard will never live that moment down.”

I wasn’t sure if I could share a laugh with Rogina, even though she was able to find humor in such a terrible situation. All I could muster was a nervous smile and a nod.

Rogina took another sip of her champagne, rested her head on her palm, and pondered, “So is this your first time working with Zeppelin?”

“Yes actually. And I hope that I’ll do alright while on tour,” I admitted.

“I think you will,” Rogina claimed with a warm smile. “So what would you like to drink? The champagne is alright, but I think I’ll get a whiskey instead.”

I was taken aback, “Oh well… a beer sounds good.”

Truthfully, a Nightbane could easily drink any of these mortals under the table. As to how I would do against Bonzo, a fellow Nightbane, well that would be a matter for another day. Still I was grateful knowing that Bonzo could understand, and hopefully the remainder of Zeppelin, Who, and Cooper would as well. However it was too early to let the rest of them know. In time I would say something, only when the moment felt right.

As we waited for our drinks, I felt a strange looming presence behind me. My throat went dry the moment I turned around to see John Entiwistle, the Ox himself, towering over the two of us. Rogina on the other hand casually remarked, “I thought you were supposed to be babysitting our dear boy.”

“Well quite frankly I need a break from him,” John mentioned with a deep chortle. “I think as long as nothing blows up tonight, he’ll tire himself out eventually.” He gestured to the bartender and asked for a glass of cognac.

Rogina nodded and asked him, “Where did Pete go?”

“Probably talking some poor bastard’s ear off about Lifehouse,” he laughed.

“Oh come on John, the man just wants to share his work to the world,” Rogina noted.

John leaned in towards me, “She says that, but even she gets tired of his songs about teenage angst.”

Rogina scowled at him, “I do not.”

John raised his eyebrows, “Keep telling yourself that Rog. It was Anjelika right?”

I nodded, “Yes John.”

He responded with a handshake, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“And you as well”, I responded with a return of his handshake. “I take Keith's handful?”

Rogina and John laughed. “That’s putting it mildly some days.” John admitted.

“I swear the man can’t not cause trouble in some fashion or another for even a few hours.” Rogina adds.

“I think there’s some unspoken rule that drummers are all crazy,” I chuckled.

“That explains everything, actually.” John said with a chuckle of his own. Rogina just shook her head.

I looked up to see the time on a clock on the wall. Midnight. Where had the time gone? “I should head up to get some sleep, I want to be up early to grab a few things I forgot earlier today from the drug store across the way. Besides, I’m assuming the roadies will be up earlier than the bands to pack up the buses.” Downing the last of my beer, I shook John’s hand again. “It was nice meeting you.” I set the empty bottle on the bar and left a few bills before turning to Rogina. “Thank you for the beer.”

She surprised me by pulling me into a hug instead of giving me a handshake. “Any time. And I’ll add to what Alice said earlier. Anyone gives you any trouble, let me know, I’ll kick their ass.”

“Thank you. But I really need to go.” With that I went to find G to figure out where I would sleep tonight. I found him still with the boys, though it appeared that Ahmet had left. I explained to G that I wanted to get to bed and why, but it was Robert who interjected.

“You can stay in my room for tonight,” Robert offered. “The rest of your things are still there from earlier.”

I had forgotten about that. Hesitantly I nodded in agreement, even if I was worried about what the other roadies, especially Cole, might say. “Alright, as long as this doesn’t become a habit. Just for tonight.”

I could see the disappointment behind Robert’s eyes, but he agreed. “Here, take my key, just leave the door unlocked so I can get in later.”

Nodding, I took the key and thanked him before heading upstairs to the room, getting as comfortable on the couch as I could.

@brownskinsugarplum76 @m-faithfull @jimmys-zeppelin @lady-jane-revisited @firethatgrewsolow @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @callmethehunter @tremble-and-shake @tophats-n-lespauls @princesspagey @tangerine-page

[herewegoagainniall]

I’ll Love Her Still: Part 10 (Brian May x Female!Reader)

WELL. It’s certainly been a while, hasn’t it? I know that the whole world has just kinda....ended, but on the bright side, the quarantine has finally made me write more! I’m coming to the last few parts of the fic now, and I honestly can’t believe this journey is going to be over soon. Thank you to everyone who’s supported this story in any way, I’ll never be able to thank you all enough ❤️. 

TAGLIST: @alittlepeoplemagic​; @brianmayplease​; @brianmayscurls​; @chlobo6​; @d-illo​; @delilahmay39​; @kenzie-belle​; @killer-queen-xo​; @kiwithekiwi​; @lizzybeth1986​; @maryfree​; @moreinfinite​; @readinghorn​; @rogerscupboard​; @thelegumemother​ 

TRIGGERS: Guys there is so much angst here. Like seriously, the end of this chapter gets...kind of awful. It’s important for character development! But if fights or name calling triggers you, just sit this part out and wait for the next one. 

“Ladies and germs,” the sound of Freddie’s best flight attendant impression roused you from your slumber, “welcome to sunny California!!”

You rubbed your eyes and looked out the window at the sprawling City of Angels, feeling an excited smile spread across your face. You turned to Brian with bright eyes and held his arm tightly. “Brian!” you said through teeth that were clenched in an uncontrollable smile. “We’re here!”

Brian looked past you and out the window, smiling. “I know!” he mimicked your tone teasingly before pulling back to kiss you on the forehead.

The wheels of the plane touched down (so harshly that you and Brian literally bumped heads, something that the two of you laughed about for the next hour), and the usual production of going to the luggage carousel and declaring your belongings at customs had an added element of enchantment to it. You were finally here- Los Angeles. The American capital of the rock and roll world. Anybody who was anybody made their name out here. And now you were here with Queen; it was almost to surreal to think of.

You didn’t really get to spend much of that day with Brian- he and the boys had to rehearse at the venue and then do press, so you roamed the city with Amber. The dress she picked out for you to wear to the concert and the after party was tasteful, but still clung to your body in just the right ways. It made you feel beautiful. Hell, LA itself made you feel beautiful. Beautiful, happy and… free.

That night, Queen and Mott the Hoople played their absolute hearts out- you could swear that you watched both bands transform into rock gods right before your very eyes. Brian, Freddie, Deacy, Rog… it was a true metamorphosis for the four of them. It was the kind of life-changing performance that you could tell your grandchildren you saw, and say, “I knew them when…”

Still in the clouds after the performance, the Queen entourage made their way to the Continental Hyatt House (lovingly referred to as the “Riot House” by the rock stars you ran with) for the after party. The place was practically swarming with people of all walks of life. Hippies, rockers, groupies, roadies, rock writers, tour promoters- anyone who was anyone was there. It was an overpowering kaleidoscope of long hair and glitter eyeshadow and alcohol. LOTS of alcohol. You’d had the perfect amount- just enough to get you buzzing, not so much that you were going to regret it later. Brian had been by your side for pretty much the whole night, but he also knew that this night was just as much for you as it was for him. This was your chance to reconnect with the scene that you’d left to follow him around the country, and he wanted you to grab it.

You’d seen so many friends already- old friends, the kind you never think about in the day-to-day, and then the minute you see them, it’s as if no time had passed at all. But you were also seeing a lot of familiar faces. Here was the promoter you’d blown for Led Zeppelin tickets, there was the roadie you’d flashed so you could get backstage and catch Roger Daltrey’s eye. They were everywhere, and for the first time in a long time, you felt wholly yourself.

The sunshine glow from your fourth drink was warming you all over, and you felt like you were on top of the world. Then you heard him. “Lily, Lily, Lily. The only woman who was my kind.”

You whirled around and felt your heart soar.

“Joe Walsh, as I live and breathe!!” you laughed and let out a squeal as Joe wrapped his arms around you and spun you in a circle. Out of all the rock stars that you’d been with (before Brian, of course), Joe had been your favorite. He was talented, sweet, and never ever failed to make you laugh. Maybe in another life, something more serious could have happened between the two of you- but now wasn’t the time for that. For now, you were just grinning like a fool, and you felt so happy to see him. “I’ve missed you,” you exhaled.

“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart,” Joe chuckled and set you down. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I could ask you the same question! I thought you were in Ohio.”

Joe shrugged and laughed softly. “C’mon, Lily, you know there’s not a whole lot out in Ohio for us. We had to come out here to make it big.” You felt his hands rest softly on your hips, but you didn’t push him away. It felt natural, having him here with you. “What about you?? You finally made it out to LA, like you always wanted.”

“I did,” you grinned. “I’m here with Queen.”

“Aw, shoot, we wanted to see them but we had things to do.”

“Well, you should see them if you can. They’re going to be legends.”

Joe raised his eyebrows. “Legends, huh? Well, Lil, if YOU say it, then it must be so.”

You chuckled softly, finding yourself falling more and more into Joe’s eyes. God, you’d forgotten how captivating he could be. But you didn’t want to take it any further, obviously: you were here with Brian. Where WAS Brian anyway?

“You know,” Joe smirked, “I thought I saw Delphi from Sacramento somewhere here. You maybe wanna grab her and a bottle of José Cuervo and see where the night takes us?”

“Easy there, cowboy,” you laughed, nodding over to the other side of the room, which was the last place you saw Brian, “I’m here with someone else.”

“So he doesn’t let you have fun?” Joe grinned that jackal grin that had always made your heart skip a beat. “I really have missed you,” he added, his voice becoming a little softer.

You tucked Joe’s hair behind his ear and smiled. “Maybe another time, Joe, okay?”

Joe nodded slowly, pressing his lips to the place where your thumb met the rest of your hand. “You must really like this guy, huh?”

A sunny feeling spread across your heart and you nodded. “I do,” you confessed. “He’s different, Joe, he really is.”

Joe was about to say something, but a sing-song voice called, “Jooooooooe” from across the room. The jackal smirk returned to his face again and he sheepishly said, “Guess I’ve gotta go.”

You nodded, understanding. “I’ll see you around, Joe,” you gave him one last smile.

Joe bent down and pressed his lips to your knuckles, a gentlemanly gesture completely at odds with his personality. “Take care of yourself, flower,” he murmured, already halfway to the other voice that demanded his attention.

It was odd- watching Joe leave normally made your heart drop slightly, the feeling of not knowing when you’d see each other again difficult to bear. But it wasn’t there this time. Maybe you were growing. Or maybe you just missed Brian. You decided to go with the latter and try to find him.

Making your way through the maze of glitter and flared jeans, you found yourself in the hallway. After you gave a quick hello to a couple more familiar faces, you saw Brian leaning against the wall, arms crossed. You didn’t pay it any mind- he was probably just tired or cold or something.

“Hey stranger,” you smiled at him.

Brian turned his head slightly and mumbled, “Hello.”

“Where have you been?”

��Around.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You sound like you just walked through the catacombs and the skulls started talking to you.”

Brian smiled unwittingly, lulling you into security. “’M just tired, I guess.”

“Why don’t you go to bed then, granddad?” you teased him slightly. “I’ll come up with you.”

“No.” The harshness of his tone surprised the both of you, and Brian cleared his throat. “I’ll be fine,” he clarified, his voice a bit softer.

His words were falling on deaf ears-  you were already turning around, the pull of an LA party too strong to make you want to leave. “You sure?” you called over your shoulder.

Brian didn’t respond, so you filled in the silence for him. “Okay, then I’ll just-”

“Exactly how much of a slut are you??”

You froze in your tracks. He didn’t… he did not… You turned on your feet slowly. “What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me.” Brian’s eyes were ablaze. “How many people have you fucked before that I’ve met tonight? Hm?”

“Brian, that is… there’s no stretch of the imagination where that could matter in the slightest!”

“How many?” he repeated.

“I-I don’t know, I…” you were sincerely racking your brain, trying to think of who was at this party. “Who’s here?”

Brian scoffed and shook his head, running a hand over his face. “Unbelievable,” he murmured.

“What?” you could feel your mood beginning to sour. “What’s going on with you?”

“‘What’s going on with me??’” Brian laughed humorlessly. “I didn’t realize taking you to L.A. meant I’d be confronted with every guy you’ve ever given the time of day to.”

“I… honey, I didn’t know that there would be so many of them here, okay? I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“Yeah. Well. It is.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Look, Brian, I get that you’re jealous, but that’s no reason t-”

“Jealous?” Brian said mockingly. “What do I have to be jealous about? I’m not some groupie who just goes around letting complete strangers into her bed night after night.”

The confusion in your heart was slowly starting to transform into anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Pretty obvious what it’s supposed to mean, isn’t it?” Brian scoffed. “I’ve got no reason to be jealous of someone like you, hopping from one sucker to another, lying about who they are and thinking that everything’s just going to be hunky dory.”

“Brian,” you said in a tone that you hoped conveyed just how pissed off you were becoming, “I don’t know where this is coming from, but it needs to stop. Now can we please just go back to the party?”

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “So you can find my replacement, right?”

You could feel your hands ball into fists. “You knew what you were getting into with me,” you growled. “The first night we met, I asked you if it bothered you that I was a groupie, and you said ‘no’. You haven’t had any complaints at all before tonight, and now all of a sudden, I’m just trash, is that it?”

Brian shook his head. “You don’t get it, Y/N. Or Lily, or whoever the fuck you are.”

“Brian, if you have something to tell me-”

“I LOVE YOU!”

Oh God.

The silence between the two of you was suffocating. It was a horrible, choking silence that completely knocked the wind out of you. “What?” you gasped, terrified to speak in anything above a whisper.

“I… I love you,” Brian repeated, softer but with the same intensity as before.

Words escaped you. It was like a nuclear bomb had gone off, but you and Brian were the only ones at the detonation site. “Brian,” was all you could say. Not even say, whisper. Hell, not even whisper- it came out like a breath.

“Is that all you’ve got to say?” Brian’s voice cracked slightly despite his best efforts to seem strong.

You took a shaky breath. “I don’t know what else to say,” you admitted, lamely.

“How about, ‘I love you too?’”

You let the sentence form on your tongue. It rolled around in the back of your throat like a marble. But you couldn’t speak it. It couldn’t fall from your lips.

Brian ran a hand down his face. “I knew it. I fucking knew it,” he grumbled. “What were you playing at?” he spoke clearly again, making sure you felt every jab of his words. “Why did you pick me out of everyone in the band? What, was Roger too easy? Was Freddie too smart?”

“Brian, stop it!” you begged. “How could you even think something like that?”

“What else can I think? You have every fucking part of me, and you’ve given me nothing in return!” The hurt in Brian’s eyes was palpable and shot like a rocket, straight to your heart. “All I want is for you to be mine. To go back home after a long tour and have you by my side. To wake up next to you and go to sleep next to you. Take you out on proper dates. Fight over whose turn it is to cook dinner or do laundry. Have you meet my parents. Show you where I grew up. It’s all I can think about, being with you for real.”  

You could feel blood rushing to your head. Where was all of this coming from? “Then what?” you asked harshly. “Marriage? Babies? Eventually leaving me behind while you go on tour and find another girl in every city, just like you found me? Is that really what you want for us??”

Now it was Brian’s turn to be gob smacked. “Y/N… I wouldn’t. I would never,” he said softly.

“And it’s not even that,” you shook your head. “I don’t know if I even want to get married or have kids. I don’t want to be locked down before I even figure out what I want!”

“You think I’m going to lock you down?” Brian said incredulously. “Would being with me really be so bad?”

“No, Brian, I-”

“So then what’s the problem??”

“Because I don’t know if I want to be with you! I don’t know if I want to be with ANYBODY!” you ran a hand through your hair. “I happen to love my life just as it is, and I don’t see any reason to change it or apologize for my choices. Least of all to you.”

You watched Brian’s expression morph from pain back to anger. “What are you going to do if I leave right now?” he snarled. “What if I walk away and just leave you here?”

“I don’t care what you do, because I’M NOT YOURS, BRIAN!”

That was it. Brian spun on his heels and stalked away from you, seemingly ignoring the, “Fine, walk away, real fucking mature!” that you threw at him.

Red clouded your vision, and the noise from the party shifted into a dull drone. You felt like you couldn’t even stand anymore, and you stumbled over to the wall, leaning against it and letting your head fall into your hands. What the actual fuck just happened?

“Oi oi!” You pushed a hand through your hair and slowly turned to see Roger coming down the hall from the same door that Brian had walked out of. He was certainly enjoying himself. “There she is, our sweet Peaches.”

Goddamn it. It was like the mere sound of the nickname popped the balloon that your anger had become, and the tears started to spill out of your eyes. “Fight with Loverboy?” Roger asked, clearly trying to do the “cheer the sad girl up” thing and failing.

“Don’t,” you spat out. “Please, Rog, just…”

“Okay, hey, hey,” Roger said softly, bringing you into his chest and rubbing your back. “Easy there, lovey.”

You knew he was just trying to help, but you also knew you couldn’t bear to be around anyone right now. Least of all, one of Brian’s best friends. You let out a huff and balled your hands into Roger’s shirt. “Can you walk me to the elevator?” you muttered into his chest.

“Course,” Roger replied, not letting you go for a second. The feeling of his arm around your shoulders was the only thing that was keeping you grounded as you made your way to the elevator. Roger pushed the “down” button and looked at you, eyes filled with concern. “Do you need me to stay with you?”

You shook your head. “No. I can’t… I can’t be around people right now.”

“Lily, if there’s something Brian did-”

“Don’t be mad at him,” you found yourself saying. “It’s something between the two of us. We’ll handle it.” Your voice actually felt like it was disconnected from your body.

With that, the elevator doors opened and you broke free of Roger’s embrace. You entered the elevator and pressed the button that led to your floor and watched as the elevator doors closed on Roger and the party you thought would be the best night of your life.

Welcome to L fucking A.

[stormtrprinstilettos]

Fun’s For Free - Chapter 5 (Roger x Reader) (smut)

Summary: It’s 1978 and you’re assigned to follow Queen on their North American tour to promote their new album. Only problem is the magazine you write for has not been kind to the band in the past, and someone has a hard time letting go of that fact.

Series Masterlist here!

In this “episode”: More? What does that mean?

Word Count: ~3.7K

Warnings: Language, smut (oral) and even some fluff. 18+

[A/N: I’m seriously blown away every time someone asks to be tagged in any of my stuff. Thanks to all of you who have ever sent me a kind word on anything I’ve ever posted here. It really means a lot. Hope you all keep enjoying this story. I know I say it all the time, but this one is really fun to write!]

November 12, 1978 – somewhere around Cleveland More. He wants more. What is more? You haven’t found out. The two of you hadn’t had the chance to talk since he told you that two days ago. It was driving you crazy, but you couldn’t focus on that. There was finally peace and quiet on the bus – everyone was sleeping except for you, so you were taking the chance to write. After Boston tomorrow night and Providence the night after, there would be four days in New York – your home base – and Mike, your editor, was expecting the first part of your article to be turned in.

You were so focused on writing that you didn’t notice your company until he started to quietly chuckle as he sat next to you. “Such concentration,” you hear Roger say before looking up at him. “And those glasses? You look like a sexy school teacher.” You roll your eyes and throw your pen at him. “I hope you’re only writing nice things about me in there.”

“So I shouldn’t put this part in about how you’re incredibly annoying and a major pain in my ass?” you ask with a cheeky smile.

“At least put in there that I’m good in bed.”

“Now why would I want to ruin my reputation like that?” you joke. “I’m still hoping to snag Roger Daltrey. It’ll never happen if he knew I let you have me.”

He smirks at your joke and chuffs when he accepts the fact that he can’t come out with a retort to it. “Tell me something about you. Your dreams, your fears. Your likes and dislikes.” He starts to chuckle. “I need to know you more than just intimately.”

“Well, I’m living my dream. I always wanted to be a writer,” you start. “I’m scared of heights and failure. I like sunny days and chocolate cake and I don’t like pineapples and boredom.”

For the next hour, you and Roger sit together on the bus, talking – not arguing. The conversation flowed smoothly, the laughter was immense and often, and you don’t think the smile ever left your face, or his. You don’t know how it went from complete loathing between the two of you to this, but it did; neither of you wanted to question it. It felt… right. It felt like this was how it was all supposed to be. You finally realize may be the “more” that Roger wanted.

“You’re sleepy,” he murmurs with a soft smile, noticing your heavy eyes. “I’ll let you sleep.”

He starts to stand up but you pull him back down. “No!” you whisper loudly. “Stay.” He sits back down and you put your head on his shoulder. He, in turn, wraps his arm around you and holds you close, and you both drift off to sleep.

November 13, 1978 – Boston, Massachusetts You and Roger woke up before everyone else, so it was easy to keep your little secret. Confusion was abound, however, when the two of you managed to walk off the bus and into the hotel lobby without arguing about something. “Are you feeling okay?” John asked, somewhat joking. “You haven’t had an argument in two days.” You roll your eyes and giggle before walking into the elevator to go to your room.

For the show tonight, you’re sitting with the rest of the press in front of the stage instead of on the side like you normally do. That’s where you meet Charlie, a reporter for one of the local newspapers. He’s tall, he’s got a nice body, he’s funny, he’s got great hair, and a great voice… basically everything you’ve ever looked for in a one night stand, but you weren’t looking for one.

Keyword: Weren’t.

After the show, Charlie followed you backstage. You introduced him to Freddie, John and Brian and left him to chat when you went look for Roger. You found him. With a girl, of course. It wasn’t any different than any other day, but tonight it stings.

So you invited Charlie back to the hotel for some drinks. And then to your room. But he was so drunk nothing happened. You were relieved, actually, but his snoring is making it impossible for you to sleep. Frustrated, and looking for any reason to leave the room, you throw on a sweatshirt over your tank top, slip on some shoes, grab the room key, and go for a walk. You have no idea where you’re going, but you had to get out of that room.

When you make it to the hotel lobby, you see Roger sitting at the bar alone. “Well this is something I’ve never seen before,” you joke as you sit next to him.

He doesn’t even look at you, instead looking at his drink. “What? He wasn’t good enough so you need me to finish you off?”

“Excuse me?” you say, actually offended.

He turns and glares at you, clearly pissed off. “Then what do you want?”

You stand up from the stool and start to walk away, but quickly turn back around and go back to him. “You have absolutely no right to be angry with me,” you tell him, your voice quite forceful. “No right at all.”

“I’m supposed to be happy I’m your second option?” he asks, his voice equally as forceful as yours.

“You think I’m here for sex?” Now you’re seething. “I saw you here and I came to say hi.” You turn to walk away again but you can’t let this go. “You know, fuck you. You want to talk about a second option? What about me?”

“What about you, Y/N? What?” He stands up and pulls you off to the side, away from the bartender’s ear shot. “You think I…”

“Every night, Roger,” you fuss. “Every night except for three I’ve seen you chatting up some girl. The three nights you didn’t were the nights you were with me.”

“And how many of them do you think I spent the night with?” he dithers. “None. Not a single one. Do you know why?” He grabs the top of your arms and pulls you close as he bends down to get close to your face. “Because I don’t want any of them. I only want you.” Your mouth drops open and you’re rendered speechless. He quickly lets go of your arms and walks out of the bar, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

November 15, 1978 – New York, New York The relief you felt as soon as you stepped off the bus was indescribable. Home. You’re home. They have three shows in New York in four days and you get to sleep in your own bed, see your friends, relax and rejuvenate. As soon as you were able, you grabbed your suitcase from the bus and scurried to grab a taxi. “You really are in a rush, aren’t you?” you heard Brian ask from behind you. You turned around and he was standing there chuckling. “I was going find something to eat. Would you like to join me?”

You were hungry, and you’ve taken a huge liking to Brian – as a friend, of course – so, while you were really looking forward to being alone, you caved and nodded your head. “Why don’t you come with me? I just have to drop this off at my place and there’s a great pizza joint right next to my building.” Neither one of you noticed Roger watching and seething as you both climbed into the cab to leave.

No, nothing happened with you and Brian. He didn’t even come up to your apartment when you dropped off your suitcase. You introduced him to the best pizza in Brooklyn, and an hour later he went back to the hotel. You took the rest of the day for yourself. It had been a mentally exhausting 24 hours and you wanted to get away from any and all drama for as long as possible. Roger wasn’t speaking to you, and the tension felt like it was at an all-time high. He was barely even looking at you, and for some reason it was eating you up inside. It was eating him up inside, too.

November 16, 1978 – Madison Square Garden “Mike says you’re having the time of your life,” Daisy, a co-worker, says as she tries to stifle a laugh.

You roll your eyes and start to giggle. “I could seriously strangle you and Barry and any of the other critics who ever said anything negative about them,” you tell her. “They’re great, but fuck. Roger has been…” Your voice trails off and you sigh. “Let’s just say it’s been interesting.”

The two of you are sitting on the side of the stage as the guys are preparing to do their soundcheck. Freddie, being nosy as he tends to be, is curious about who your friend is, so you introduce them. John and Brian soon come over to meet Daisy, too, but Roger doesn’t. Not that you thought he would, but he did walk by and immediately sat at the drum kit. “He’s not speaking to me either now,” Brian tells you in your ear. “I don’t know why.” He shrugs his shoulders and walks away.

Roger keeps glancing and you, and you at him, and Daisy immediately picks up on it. “So what’s the story here?” she asks. “With you and pretty boy.”

You give her the rundown, about how he completely hated you before you even met because of negative things printed about them in the magazine. “It’s beyond frustrating,” you sigh. “Just when we start to get along, something happens and we start despising each other again.”

“Well,” she starts. “Maybe you shouldn’t have fucked him.” You look at her, mouth completely dropped open, and start to deny, deny, deny – but she stops you. “Don’t even try to tell me that you haven’t.”

You give her a side eyed glare but can’t stop yourself from giggling. “I’m not discussing this with you.”

“They let you bring friends along now?” you hear Roger snip as he takes a drag of his cigarette, not even realizing he had walked over.

“I’m Daisy,” she says as she stands up and holds out her hand. “I write for…”

He doesn’t look at her, only you. “Now there’s two of you?” he asks. “One of you is hard enough to handle.” Daisy stops talking, instead paying attention to the interaction between you and Roger.

“She’s here for the show tonight,” you tell him. “Don’t worry.”

“That’s all I need. It’s bad enough I have you to deal with every night. Now you’ve multiplied and I’m going to stress doubly.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, Roger.” You turn to Daisy and give her a tired look. “See what I mean?”

He bends over and grabs your arm. “We need to talk.”

“No,” you say as you tug your arm away. “We don’t.”

“Will you just fucking…” He’s being loud, but quickly tones it down. “Stop being so difficult.” He gently holds your arm again. In order not to cause yet another scene, you excuse yourself and follow him down the backstage hall and to their dressing room. You walk in, but he stays standing in the doorway.

You stand there in silence, waiting for him to talk for what seems like forever. He walks closer to you and takes your face gently in the palm of his hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as he leans in for a kiss. Not a kiss tinged by alcohol. He’s completely sober, as are you, so that’s why your mind is completely blown right now. You grab the waist of his pants, pull him into the room and he kicks the door closed behind him. His breathing is uneven as he looks into your eyes, and they’re burning with a lust that matches yours. Your mouths meld together and his tongue effortlessly glides over yours with satisfying strokes.

“Roger,” you whisper as you stop the kiss. “We can’t… You have to do the soundcheck…” Your voice is somewhat hoarse and he responds by kissing you more. You pull back again, unable to open your eyes for a few seconds and start to talk again.

“Shh,” he whispers, still holding his palm to your cheek. Neither of you even know what to say. That kiss completely melted the both of you. “Why are we like this?” he asks, genuinely wondering why.

His eyes. His fucking eyes are amazing and you wonder how, after all of the glaring and staring you’ve done at them, how you never realized just how perfect they are. “I don’t know,” you whisper back. The door starts to open and you both quickly move away from the door and from each other.

“Come on, Rog!” John yells as he walks in before walking right back out. “You can finish the argument after we’re done.” Roger flashes you a soft, gentle smile before he follows John out, and every inch of your insides flutter.

You walk back out after taking a few minutes to regain your composure and take your seat next to Daisy again. “These guys are hilarious,” she says with a giggle. “They’re so… bitchy.” You just smile and turn your gaze to Roger. He gives you a wink and forces his focus to what he’s supposed to be doing.

After the show, you and Daisy are standing outside, away from prying ears, discussing the show. She hated it. The music was good enough, but she found the performance drab. “I am begging you, please, be gentle in the review. I still have another month…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I’m always honest,” she says. “But never mind that, tell me about Roger.” She nudges your arm and gives you a sly smirk. “How many times? Is he good? I bet he’s good.”

You roll your eyes and light a cigarette. “I am here to write a story. My judgment won’t be clouded by a pair of blue eyes.” You take a deep sigh and look out into the parking lot, seeing the crowd has thinned significantly. “I’m heading home. I miss my bed.” You give Daisy a hug, promise to hang out before you leave again, and head back inside to grab your purse.

And, of course, the first thing you see when you walk in is Roger, smiling his toothy smile, surrounded by giggling girls. Only this time, you don’t feel jealous or angered in any way. Not after that kiss. There was something different about it. He doesn’t notice you walk by. Freddie does, though, and he calls your name, blowing your cover. “Where are you sneaking off to?” he asks. “We’re just getting started, darling.”

“I’m going home,” you tell him. “I know. I’m boring. But I have to go to the office in the morning.” You give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “But I’ll be here tomorrow in time for the show.”

As soon as you walk outside, you hear a voice from behind you. “‘A colossal sonic volcano whose eruption maketh the earth tremble,’” he says. “I read it last night.”

“Yeah,” you smirk as you turn around. “Are you surprised, Mr. Taylor?”

“Yeah, I am,” he smiles. You raise a brow and continue to smirk. “Especially considering you wrote that in Dallas. I guess I misjudged you.”

“You did,” you giggle. “But I didn’t misjudge you. I still think you’re a dick.”

He inches closer to you. “Where you off to then?”

“Home,” you tell him before taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

“Well, that depends,” he says, inching even closer and bringing his same hand up to you cheek like he did earlier. “Depends on if I get invited anywhere.” He smiles and you can’t resist it.

November 17, 1978 – 11am, Brooklyn, New York “Yes, Mike, I’ll be there,” you groan. “I don’t know why you can’t wait until tomorrow.” Roger’s under the sheet and keeps nibbling on your thigh and you’re trying not to giggle. “No, Mike, there’s nothing going on.” Roger’s now positioned himself in between your legs and is trying to open them, but you’re trying to stop him and start tapping on his head. “I don’t care what Daisy said, nothing’s going on.” Roger’s won the battle, and he’s now starting to tease you with his tongue. You try your hardest to stifle your gasp. “Mike, stop. I’ll be there at 1.” You slam the phone down and start laughing, and you can feel Roger’s chuckle against your core. “You could have just gotten me fired,” you laugh, but enjoying the feeling he’s creating way too much to fuss too much.

“Shhh,” he says, moving away for a moment, throwing the sheet off. “I’m trying to work here.” He laps and sucks on your swollen lips, his tongue moving unhurried over your clit as he hums over your sensitive flesh, making you quiver. You prop yourself up so you can watch him, and you see his eyes looking up at you, leaving you unable to take a breath deep enough to clear the euphoria he is creating right now. An excitement cry escapes your mouth as he starts to suck harder, flicking his tongue over and over until the last drop is sucked out of you. Each muscle in your body tenses as he takes you over the edge and fucks you with his tongue until you cum. He takes one last lick up before looking up at you, quite pleased with himself. “Did I ever tell you how absolutely delicious you are?” he smirks. “I just couldn’t resist.”

You start to giggle and pull him up to you. He gives you a deep kiss when he reaches your mouth, cupping your neck as he kisses you. “If we get caught I can get in a lot of trouble, you know.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles as he kisses your neck. “Then I guess we better keep this our little secret.”

“I’m serious,” you giggle. His kisses are tickling you so you nudge him off, making him lay next to you on his back. “That’s what Mike was calling for.” He looks confused. “His exact words were ‘if I find out you’re fucking around with one of them I’m pulling you out.’”

Roger starts to grin and you can’t hold in your giggle. “Well it’s his own fault for sending someone pretty to us then, isn’t it?” You roll your eyes, but can’t stop giggling. “Hey, our secret. Promise.”

“Wow,” you say after you stop giggling and stare up at the ceiling. “So I’m actually getting paid to be a groupie.” You turn and look at him, keeping a serious face. “I’ve always wanted to be a groupie.”

He starts to laugh. “Yeah, but unfortunately, you’re a groupie for the wrong Roger.”

“That’s okay. I’ll consider this practice for when I get the right one.” You flash him a cheeky smirk before sitting up. “I have to get ready to get to the office before Mark comes and finds me.”

1:00pm – Midtown Manhattan You sneak in Mike’s office before anyone can catch you. Candice, the assistant editor, sees you and rushes in, excited to see you. “Soooo, how’s it going? Mike said you were having a little issue with Roger Taylor.” She sits in Mike’s chair, a big smile on her face, eager to hear everything.

“We’ve worked it out, actually,” you inform her. “At least I think we have. He doesn’t hate me anymore, so that’s progress.” As you fill Candice in on everything, Mike walks in and slams the door, startling you.

“Did you get to the part when you started banging the guy or no?” Mike is angry. Seething. You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s always happy around you, jovial, sarcastic… everything but downright angry. “Don’t even open your mouth to tell me that you didn’t. Daisy told me…”

“Daisy?” you yell. “Daisy who is pissed off that I got this gig and she didn’t Daisy? That one? How would she even know?”

Mark calms down, takes a deep breath and sits on his desk, directly in front of you. “Look, Y/N, I just want this to be a fair article. It’s not just your journalistic integrity at stake, it’s the entire magazine.”

You reach down into your bag and hand him your notebook that is stuffed with other papers. “My typewriter broke so most of it is jotted down until I can type it up, but that’s it. That’s what it is so far.” Candice rushes over to sit next to Mike and they start reading what you’ve written. “If you read this and can honestly tell me that it’s written from the point of view of someone who’s fucking the drummer, or all of them plus the road crew, I’ll walk away.” You stand up from your chair and start pacing. “But I’m quite proud of what I’ve got there so far, and I really want to finish this, Mike.” He looks up at you. “You’re the one who sent me.”

He stands up as he hands everything to Candice, who is still reading. “I sent you because of your attitude. I knew if anyone could handle these guys for two months it would be you.” You stare at him, wondering why he seems to be feeling like he’s made a mistake. “We’re the only magazine they’re letting in, and …”

“Mike,” you say as you place a hand on his shoulder. “This is a huge chance you’ve given me. Do you really think I’m going to fuck it up?”

“This is really good, Mike,” Candice pipes up. “You should read it all.” She stands and holds your notebook in her hand, pointing down at it as she walks over to him. “I mean, do you really think she would have written this part about how childish he is if she…”

As you listen to her point out all of the negative things you’ve written about him – not that there was many – you realize exactly what Mike was worried about. If you leave all of that in, Roger will be pissed. If you take it out, you’re not exactly going to be telling the whole story.

“Stay on it,” Mike tells you. “And get a new typewriter because you can’t turn this mess in.” You smile and take the notebook from Candice. “Y/N, I’m serious. If I find out…”

“You won’t find anything out,” you smile.

Permatags: @clogwearingspacepoodle @briansfatbottomgirl @culturefiendtrashqueen @jennyggggrrr @shutup-sorry @dontstopmemeow @letmelivetaylor @tommyleeownsme

Series tags: @toomuchlove-willkillyou @sunshine112 @ohtheseboysilove @luvborhap @painkiller80 @hannafuckingsucks @itsametaphorbriansblog @biscuit-barrel @capsparrowtara @asquiresofftime @aridrowse @geek-and-proud @a19103 @nicholeh7 @caborhapch @catch-a-deak @thebelgiancompanion @ultrablackwidower @maggieroseevans @protectrowanwhitethorn @mercurycrowley @amy-brooklyn99 @bellas2silly @rogxrtaylxr @gylfsz @amagicmess @thessxoxo @mariekuuuuuh @drowseoftaylor @luvborhap @bohemiansweede

[earthfire-75]

Kashmir

Chapter One, Part One: Kashmir (The Trick is to Keep Breathing)

Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta-ed by @lady-jane-revisited

I had fallen asleep listening to KIashmir as I fell asleep. It was all I could think about after that strange woman had told me that I would find myself in a distant place, that I would hold the fate of three hearts in my hands. I tried not to think about it much, but as the day grew later, that was proving more and more difficult, until I finally fell asleep.

I had no idea how right that woman was and I wondered if she was psychic.

I woke in an alley, laying flat on my back and I felt like I wanted to scream. I didn’t know why it even fazed me anymore. Three, three times now��� Did the universe hate me that much? Who was I going to meet that I would get my heart broken over this time? Who knows, maybe I wouldn’t this time, but I was not holding my breath. In both previous times I had found myself in a different universe than my own, that was exactly what had happened. I fell in love and just as I was ready to accept that I wasn’t going anywhere, the universe had other plans.

I picked myself up from the ground and found I wasn’t far from the mouth of the alley. Dusting myself off, I sighed as I noticed my already threadbare Zeppelin shirt now had a couple of tears in it, I headed out of the alley. I wasn’t paying as much attention to my surroundings as I should have been, trying to just keep my head down and find a place to stay and worry about everything else in the morning. But I ran into someone as I rounded the corner. I quickly apologized, but the person had my arms in a gentle hold.

“Are you alright, love?”

The familiar-ish English accent made me look up. Holy crap! Jimmy fucking Page! He chuckled at me, letting go of my arms.

“While it’s good to be recognized, I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Dear God, I said that out loud… sorry. I’m Anjelika,” I replied, my heart starting to slow down.

He chuckled again, smiling at me. “It’s quite alright, love. Come to the studio with me, at least get you a new shirt.” He tilted his head as he took a better look at the shirt I was wearing. “I see you’re a fan, but I don’t recognize this design.”

Shit! “I, uh...made it myself. One of my many talents.”

“Ah. Well, shall we?” He asked, gesturing to a building a little further down the street. I nodded and we walked together in silence, feeling Jimmy’s eyes on me now and then, until we reached the building. He opened the door for me and followed me in. “Straight down the hall and the first door on the left will take you to G’s office. You can wait there while I find you a clean shirt.”

“G?” I asked half distractedly. I was busy taking in my surroundings in awe when I heard Jimmy chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled again. “G is our manager, Peter Grant. He looks intimidating, and I admit, he can be when needed. But for the most part, he’s just a giant teddy bear.”

“Alright. I’ll see you there, yeah?”

“Yes. G might already be in his office, I’ll go with you to make an introduction. The rest of the band should be showing up soon as well.”

I nodded and headed down the hall to the first door on the left, as instructed. As I entered, sure enough there was a large man sitting at the desk in the middle of the room. The man I assumed was “G” looked up at me with a confused expression until Jimmy came in behind me.

“Jimmy! You’re early and I see you’ve brought a guest. Welcome, miss!”

“Please, call me Anjelika.”

“Morning, G! I came across this poor girl about a block away. Offered to get her a clean shirt at the least. I’m going to go find one, figured she’d be safe with you. Just keep Robert away from her.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible, but I can try.”

After that exchange, Jimmy left to find a clean shirt as promised. I started to look around the office, a bit fascinated by all the gold records. As I look around, Peter silently takes stock of me. The man towers over me, though I’m of average height.

“Anjelika?” He called to me, getting my attention. I turned to face the large man again, humming in acknowledgement.

“Forgive me saying, but you look like a sturdy woman. If you’re interested, we have an opening for a roadie. Specifically, someone who knows their guitars.”

“Well, I’m far from an expert, but my dad taught me quite a bit growing up. I know how to tune and play acoustic, electric and bass guitars. As for my interest, how about an enthusiastic hell yes!?” I wouldn’t mention that it was basically a lifelong dream, plus, this took care of how I was going to live while here.

Peter’s face lit up with a bright smile and stuck his hand out to me. “Welcome to the crazy life we call Rock n’ Roll!”

I laughed and took Peter’s hand to shake it, but before I could respond, another voice came from the doorway. “Did I hear right? You found the last roadie we need?” The accent was light and soft even in excitement. It was that and the feeling of another of my kind present that made me turn toward the door. There stood Robert Plant, John Paul Jones and John Bonham, a.k.a. Bonzo, who seemed to be eyeing me. Robert was as well, but their expressions were quite different. Bonzo was curious, if a little cautious, Robert had a clear interest in me, like a lion sizing up its prey.

I smiled to myself as I observed each of them. Bonzo’s cautiousness was a little surprising, but everything else about them was everything I had heard.

“Yes,” Peter replied. “Jimmy brought her in, but yes, I asked her if she would be interested in the job and she accepted. Anjelika, meet Robert Plant, John Paul Jones and John Bonham. Boys, meet Anjelika.”

John Paul was the first to step forward. “I trust Peter’s judgment, but have you ever played guitar before?”

“I have, granted, it’s been a few years, but I think I remember a thing or two.” I responded with confidence.

“Don’t worry Jonesy,” Peter said. “I’m sure Jimmy will want to test her skills.”

“Who’s skills will I want to test?” Jimmy asked as he came back with a clean shirt, walking in and handing said shirt to me.

I took the shirt, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Mine, apparently. Mr. Grant offered me a job.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for? There’s a party tonight and the American leg of the tour starts tomorrow.” He announces and starts back out the door.

“Tomorrow?! That’s cutting it a bit close, don’t you think?”

Robert approached now, taking my hands in his. “Sometimes that’s just how it works out. If you need anything let us know, for now, we should join Jimmy in the studio.”

I nodded , slowly pulling my hands out of Robert’s and followed Jimmy until we reached a recording room. “Alright, let’s see what you can do, love.”

Without a word, I picked up the acoustic guitar and tuned it with ease, then I did the same with the two electric guitars. Finally, I turned to the bass guitar and tuned it, but I didn’t stop there. Something in me needed to sing too, to show them all of the talent I had to offer. Even if the song wasn’t my own. I stood up, pulled the guitar strap over my head, and stepped in front of the microphone.

I began a strong bass line and then, feeling a combination of nervousness and excitement , I began to sing.

“She’s not the kind of girl

Who likes to tell the world

About the way she feels about herself.

She takes a little time

In making up her mind

She doesn’t want to fight against the tide.

Lately, I’m not the only one

I say never trust anyone

Always the one who has to drag her down

Maybe you’ll get what you want this time around.

Can’t bare to face the truth

So sick you can not move

And when it hurts

He takes it out on you.

Lately, I’m not the only one

I say never trust anyone

Always the one who has to drag her down

Maybe you’ll get what you want this time around.

The trick is to Keep Breathing.”

I was about to continue when I saw five shocked faces looking back at me. Jimmy seemed to recover faster than the rest, Robert soon after. “Oh, we’re keeping her,” The singer announced.

Jimmy shook his head at his friend. “She’s not a pet, Rob. But yes, I think she’ll do nicely for the job.” He turned his attention once more to me. “Congratulations, you’re hired!”

I couldn’t help myself as I did a little dance before setting the bass back in its place and rejoined the others. In my joy, I ran up and hugged Jimmy and then Peter. “Thank you! But, if you all don’t mind, I’d really like to change my shirt now.”

“I’ll show you to the bathrooms.” It was Bonzo who spoke now, holding out his arm like a gentleman for me to take.

As we walked down the hallway, my eyes wandered at the sight before me. The studio environment was unlike what I had ever seen, the space was brimming with creativity as the sounds of instruments filled my ears. I could have only imagined what sorts of sounds would materialize here within these walls.

My attention was brought back when Bonzo spoke to me, “‘Ere you are Anjelika, love. I’ll wait for you out here since the studio is a bit big and well it’s your first day.”

“Thank you,” I said with a smile.

I looked at myself in the mirror after replacing my shirt. The material fit snugly against my torso and the design was so colorful with the band’s logo printed in bold letters that practically jumped off of the garment. Aside from admiring the clothing, I couldn’t help but stare at the woman looking back at me with a sense of wonderment and confusion. A new life was about to begin for me: accomodations taken care of, decent pay, and an opportunity to work alongside one of the biggest, if not the biggest, bands in the world right now. I felt happy and yet, something was lingering inside of me. Doubt? Worry? I was jolted from my thought process by the sound of hard knocking.

Bonzo’s voice was muffled, “Everything alright?”

“Coming,” I answered back.

Jonesy was fiddling with a mandolin when we returned to the recording space. Long fingers turning the tuning keys as his other hand made use of the strings. Jimmy was beside Grant going over the business aspect of the tour and Robert was occupied with his novel.

Bonzo leaned over the lanky singer, “How goes the little fellowship Percy? Are they about to fight a dragon again?”

Robert’s eyebrows quirked from over the pages, “Wrong book there Bonzo, this is the one where they venture out to destroy the One Ring. That is until everything goes wrong for the group-”

Jonesy butted in with a chuckle, “What is this, the tenth time you read the book this week?”

“Sod off,” Robert replied, “Just because you don’t find it interesting, doesn’t mean it’s a bad story.”

I glanced over and saw that he was reading The Fellowship of the Ring by Tolkien, a favorite of his judging by the tone in his voice, “What part are you on now? Have they just left Rivendell?”

Robert’s eyes lit up as he put his book down for a moment, “Yes, they have actually. You’ve read Fellowship?”

I smiled, “All of them, including The Hobbit.”

“Looks like you’ll have someone to talk nerd with you Percy,” Bonzo chortled as he grabbed his drumsticks.

Grant cleared his throat, “Alright settle down everyone, come on you lot have more to record. Bonzo get in there.”

Like an excited schoolboy, the man rushed in and made himself comfortable at the drum kit. Lightning fast reflexes created the thunderous booming of his instrument. I thought the glass was going to shatter from the sheer force of his playing alone. To hear him through headphones was one thing, but to actually see the man at work was something else entirely. He was like a beast letting out everything within himself, the raw power echoing from the percussion instruments. He was swift in his ability to move from one part of his set to the next, his fists holding on tightly to his drum sticks as he went from cymbal to snare to Tom. His footwork on pedals was quick as his entire body followed a musical rhythm.

As the boys began to record their song, Peter approached me once again, sitting in the chair beside me. “You know, what Percy said earlier…if you need anything, just ask. I know this was a bit sprung on you.”

I smiled a little and nodded. “Literally everything I own right now, I’m wearing. And technically, the shirt is borrowed.”

“Nah, you keep it. We can provide you with some shirts that were made for the tour. They’re for the roadies. As for anything else you might need, I can give you a small advance on your pay.”

“I…don’t know what to say. Thank you!”

He patted my hand and stood up. “It’s no problem at all, love. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He left the room and I turned my attention to the boys. I recognized the song and couldn’t help but sing along from my side of the room.

“It is the springtime of my loving

The second season I am to know

You are the sunlight in my growing

So little warmth I've felt before

It isn't hard to feel me glowing

I watched the fire that grew so low, oh

It is the summer of my smiles

Flee from me, keepers of the gloom

Speak to me only with your eyes

It is to you, I give this tune

Ain't so hard to recognize, oh

These things are clear to all from time to time, ooh”

I had to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. I did not need Robert, or any of them really, to see me cry. Peter returned shortly after and handed me $100. I was in a bit of a shock, to say the least. “This is too much,” I said.

“Nonsense. Get yourself what you need, maybe a couple of dresses for after-parties. Anything left, consider it to be spending money.”

“Thank you, again, Mr. Grant.”

“Please, call me Peter. Or G, if you prefer.”

“Alright,” I smiled up at him, “thank you, G.”

The boys finished up the song and Peter stopped the recording. “I think you boys got it this time.”

“What did you think of it, Anjelika?” Robert asked, sounding a little shy.

“You all did wonderfully, it’s beautiful.”

Robert beamed like a ray of sunshine and the others seemed to approve of my opinion as well. Setting their instruments down and joined Peter and I on the other side of the studio.

“The party starts in a couple of hours, love. You should probably get your shopping done, there won’t be time for it tomorrow. I’m sure one of the boys will be happy to go with you, New York is a large city.”

“A guide seems like a good idea, especially since this is my first time in New York.” I turned to the boys only to see four sets of eyes looking imploringly at me. It seemed they all wanted to get out for a little while. I chuckled and shook my head. “You all look like lost puppies. Come on, let’s go. Robert, you can be my fashion consultant.”

Jonesy laughed. “You’ll regret that.”

“At least she didn’t give the job to Jimmy,” Bonzo laughed back.

Jonesy raised his hands up, “Fair point.”

“Oi!”

* * *

The city of New York was truly the picturesque place of all that was new and grand, while simultaneously being the same location that would change its image once the sun began to set. While not exactly a local and there was still a fair amount of daylight left, Robert insisted that I should stay close to him

“It’s a short walk from here, come on.”

“Robert, I think I’ll be okay. Besides, we'll go in and find a couple of dresses, some jeans and such. Shouldn’t be that hard,” I noted.

Sure enough, we made it to the boutique in no time. The place had all manner of outfits that were either displayed on their mannequins or hung from the racks. A number of the garments seemed to appeal more to the current generation with its float patterns, striped pants, button up blouses and skirts, big collared shirts, sweater vests, and corduroy suits. The shoes were something to marvel at as well. Robert had a big smile across his face and was about head to the nearest rack, that is until I cleared my throat.

“Right, dresses, sorry love.”

I raised a brow with a smirk, “It’s fine, I just have no clue where to start… Excuse me, ma’am?”

An employee turned my way, “Yes, how may I help you?”

“Could you help me find a couple of dresses for a party tonight?”

She answered with a smile, “Yeah, follow me to get your measurements first.”

She had me stand before a mirror, using her measuring tape to get my exact numbers. I noticed Robert’s eyes in the reflection examining me as she wrapped the tape around my bust. He bit down in his lip and tried his best to hide his smirk as I scowled at him. After the measuring was finished, she brought over a small collection of dresses and led me to the changing room.

She moved the curtain aside, “Just leave whatever you like inside the room and let me know if you need anything else.”

“I also need some work clothes. Jeans, mostly, under-things…and work boots.”

After thanking her, I made sure to keep the curtain closed up keeping my eyes out in case I see those ocean blue eyes peering at me. Everything looked really lovely, yet my perception changed the moment each time the outfits were on me. Everything seemed in place and the colors were beautiful, but nothing looked right to me. Even when I lifted my hair up in a makeshift ponytail and turned around, it hardly made a difference.

Robert cleared his throat, “Anjelika, how are you doin’ in there?”

“Um, well…”

“Come on, let me see you. I haven’t seen you in any of the dresses yet since we got here,” Robert mentioned.

“I don’t know, I don’t think… maybe…”

“Please, come out,” he begged.

I stepped out wearing a thin strapped red dress, the flowing skirt piece reached down to my knees and was cut asymmetric.

Robert eyed my look, “You look beautiful in red.”

“You think so? Thank you. What else should I get?”

Robert walked over and examined the other ones, holding up each one by the hanger’s metal hook. Positioning them in a way so that he could see what they looked like on me. He handed over the orange dress that was a bit longer and had a low v-neck cut. I was skeptical to wear it again, but tried it on once more and showed him.

The boutique employee returned with a small pile of jeans, a pack of underwear and a few bras, handing them over to me. “What’s your shoe size, dear?”

“9 ½ to 10, depending on the shoe.”

The woman nodded and left again to find shoes for me. I went back into the dressing room to try on the jeans and found they actually fit. As I came out once more, I found Robert had followed the woman to the shoe section. So I sat with my items until they returned. I tried on the work boots first, finding that the 10’s fit better. Robert had apparently picked out a pair of heels to go with the dresses. In that case, it was the 9 ½ that fit.

When we got to the register, the woman had also managed to fish up some makeup and jewelry to go with the dresses as well.

@salixfragilis @brownskinsugarplum76 @firethatgrewsolow @lady-jane-revisited @princesspagey @tremble-and-shake @tangerine-page @m-faithfull @jimmys-zeppelin @timetraveller4 @callmethehunter @tophats-n-lespauls please let me know if I missed anyone or if you would like to be added.