#scantly clad

[jesncin]

Ok, we know some stuff about the preferences of Ma'al and the people he's hooked up with

Other than Jemm, what is there to know about J'onn, did Ma'al try to set him up with like, Bruce or smth?

So while Ma'al likes to go around and have fun, J'onn wants a committed relationship. Though he's more reluctant to romantically open up because of recently "divorcing" with M'yri'ah. I imagine that even as he grows feelings for other people he doesn't let himself start truly dating until a year of living on Earth.

On Mars, J'onn was pretty popular and had a couple of relationships before settling with M'yri'ah. He struggles connecting with humans for a while, but eventually finds love on Earth too. I like to think he dates Al Crane (bartender), Helen Demoff (scientist who I headcanon as a trans woman), and Gwendolyn Heath (museum lady) among others :)

I don't see the twins getting overly involved in each others' love lives. J'onn is there to steer Ma'al away from distasteful people and Ma'al is there to comfort J'onn after any heartbreak.

[moe-broey]

*pulls out a crumpled up piece of paper*

My transfemme Fire Emblem Headcanons. Include:

> Rosado, transfemme non-binary, most likely to use neopronouns or multiple sets of pronouns (fae/faer, she/he, never let 'em know your next move)

> Forrest, has been on estrogen for years but still says "I'm a prince" if asked and insists on using he/him pronouns (may be closeted, may be in denial, may do so out of a sense of obligation, may be a case of pronouns being "indicative of but not exclusive to gender identity", may also just have an exceedingly complicated relationship with the gender)

> Loki, a shapeshifter, chooses to look Like That (and she's so based for it)

> Gullveig. Just. Everything Seidr/Heidr/Kvasir and Gullveig have going on. Is so transgender. To me

And on vibes alone

> Triandra

[fixaidea]

Oh yeah, at least SOME part of the reason, besides everything else, why Wu Xie is giving Rincewind vibes is because while neither is explicitly stated to be aroace, they pretty much are.

Or at the very least at any given moment they can be assumed to have more pressing stuff going on than pursuing romance.

[nanamimizz]

bro their loincloths are shorter than i remember

[lellalombardiapologist]

I'm trying to find out how the pits were organized in Monaco in the 80s and motorsport images isn't helping!! Why all these photos of scantly clad women? It feels like some shady website and that's not a compliment

[wolfertinger666]

being horny and queer kinda intertwines with each other and my art shamelessly shows that. it's the appreciation for the body while also showing love and attraction towards it. it's not too over the top but it's not subtle either, kinda just in the middle, which is what I like tbh.

here's to more cute fluffy boys in scantly clad outfits 🍾🥂

[murdrdocs]

bsfs!dad coryo + very slight blood play + age gap (r is 18+) + adultery MDNI

the drought growing on your tongue is quickly being satiated by coriolanus snow's saliva. it's wrong, literally swapping saliva with your best friend's dad, but it's truly not your fault. it's not like when you awoke in the middle of the night and wandered out of your best friend's bedroom you were seeking out her father.

truthfully, you were going for a glass of water and maybe hoping to run into mr. snow along the way. but this is way more than a run in. with your ass digging into the thick wood of his desk, his hands shamelessly roaming your scantly clad body. you're glad you decided against putting on actual bottoms before leaving the secluded four walls of her bedroom. you much prefer the feeling of mr. snow's hands against your thighs over the warmth from the fleece of your pants.

his hands grip the flesh of your thighs, he peels away from your lips to provide enough room for him to speak. "up," he orders, and you don't have to be told twice to situate yourself directly atop the mahogany.

mr. snow kisses you harder then, stepping between your spread legs and pulling your ass closer to him. your shorts ride up, leaving your bare bottom to drag across the wood with a harsh squeal. it's uncomfortable, it stings a little, but mr. snow kisses it better with pecks along the side of your neck.

"you think you can be quiet for me?"

he speaks directly in your ear, inciting a chill that prompts goosebumps along your arms and legs.

your answer is quick. "yes, sir."

you can feel him smile against you at the formality, definitely not used to it from his bratty daughter or anyone else your age.

"good girl."

being quiet is harder than expected. when other men fuck you, most of the time it's like you have to will yourself to make any noise. now, it's the opposite.

you're biting onto your bottom lip, the skin already broken from rolling it in your teeth earlier in the night. when you feel thin liquid coating it, you know you've caused bleeding, but you just lick it away and continue because it's the lesser of two evils. you either bite your lips raw, or moan so loud your best friend inevitably wakes up.

she knows her parents marriage is failing, just as well as you do, and her waking up and finding you missing would make it easy to put two and two together.

seemingly on the same page as you, mr. snow shushes you. his face close to yours, his nose brushing against the skin of your cheek. he presses a little kiss to your lips, not commenting on the blood that transfers and instead licking it away.

"gotta be quiet, doll. you don't want her to wake up, do you?" you don't know if he's referring to his daughter or his wife, but neither would bring a good outcome.

you shake your head, fumbling around behind you in hopes of finding something to ground yourself. maybe something to muffle your sounds if you're lucky. instead, you find paper, likely plans for the next hunger games. nothing useful to you now.

coriolanus is ahead of you. he reaches to the side of you and stuffs a fabric into your mouth. it's not until you taste the tanginess and smell the sweet musk that you realize it's your panties. he even kisses you over them, a wicked smile on his lips.

[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.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Taken!Series Part Six: Family - Angel Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @emily2003alzaga @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @expir3dl0v3  @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @stressed-chas @daydreaming-belle @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics

Taken!Series:

Part One: Mother - Tragedy strikes when Angel leaves you and Valeria alone for the evening.

Part Two: Bleeding Out - Angel returns home to discover what happened at the house.

Part Three: Touch & Go - Angel discovers where Valeria was taken.

Part Four: Meth Mountain - Angel retreives Valeria.

Part Five: Perfect - Angel reveals what he was really doing the night you were shot.

When you come home, it’s to Felipe’s house.

To a bedroom that’s been redecorated, to a space that’s tailored to help with your recovery.

You’ve been in Angel’s old room before. It used to be a blast from the past, basketball stuff littering the shelves, old, chequered sheets on the single bed in the corner, pictures of motorcycles and scantly clad women on the walls.

That’s changed now. There’s a double bed with crisp white sheets with pretty little plants embroidered into it, a swing cradle for Valeria is situated along side of it. The shelves hold all of your items from home. The various terrariums, the pressed rose in a frame from your Nana. Your clothes are hung up in a gorgeous dark wood wardrobe that had been hidden underneath Angel’s half naked lady posters.

The truth is you can’t go back to the house you were injured in, and neither can Angel. The memories are too raw, too vivid so instead you return to Felipe’s. A place where you can rest and recover with the help you need and the proximity to your daughter. You need to be close to her in the aftermath, the same way that Angel does.

Right now, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, rocking the cradle lightly as Valeria kicks her legs and puts her hands to her mouth. Those dark eyes of hers stare up at the mobile that Felipe had crafted for her, brightly coloured zoo animals that ensnare her attention. You feel settled right now, at peace. For the first time in a long time everything is right where it’s supposed to be.

Felipe clears his throat from the doorway, you tilt your head up with a small smile before your attention turns back to the baby.

“She doesn’t have a care in the world.” You say softly.

Felipe sits down beside of you, the bed dipping as his shoulder bumps against yours. He chucks his finger underneath Valeria’s chin, and the baby tries to grab at it.

“I never said thank you.” You say quietly. “For setting us up here. I know it can’t be easy having us in your personal space...”

Felipe shakes his head, cutting you off.

 “It’s good to have other people around the house again.” He says, his voice gruffer than usual as he takes over the rocking. “Especially this little one.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a moment as you both watch Valeria. She’s getting tired now, her motions slowing as she turns her head.

You hear Angel’s footsteps trapsing up the hallway before he ducks into the room. He’s wearing a grey wifebeater and basketball shorts that are covered in flecks of paint. There’s a streak of green across his cheek, you can see the same colour marring his fingertips.

“Pops, you said you were getting more paint for the nursery.” He says, before he sees the two of you sitting alongside the crib. A smile crosses his features as he steps inside the room, grabbing the rag from his back pocket and using it to clean his hands.

“EZ’s old room can wait a minute.” Felipe says, continuing to rock the cradle as the baby’s eyelids start to flutter closed. “I want to spend a little time with my family.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[sweet-cassi-cd]

...I can't sleep 'cause it's burning deep inside, Like gasoline on a fire running wild, No more fear 'cause I'm getting closer now, So unreal but I like it anyhow...

Within Temptation, "Faster" from back in 2011.

I'm typing this on the eve of the Formula 1 weekend at Monza, Italy, one of the old pioneering racing circuits and now the spiritual home of Ferrari's Tifosi . It seemed like a good time to get this one posted especially with my flag as a prop.

I know that scantly clad "Grid Girls" are a bit out of vouge these days, but I do like these fun outfits and when I saw this one on ebay I thought it would be great to give it a try.

Maybe you'd be getting the green flag for "GO" or the or the black flag for bad behavior, all I know is that with my chequered flag and my tight outfit I'd be hoping to help you finish haha!

Fun photos and fun words... hope you like them! Cassi Xx :-)

[jesncin]

"martians have quality gender" while I agree that DC martians have some banger designs, I fail to see what gender specifically has to do with their appeal? I don't particularly understand the whole "so gender" language that seems to be popular among certain circles. To me martians are cool because they're spindly with big ol' eyes, nothing to do with gender.

So when someone says "x is so gender" it's usually a short hand for saying that they find a character, creature, object, etc to have an appealing or desirable aesthetic presentation, charisma, or general vibe! Sometimes in a way they themselves want to emulate.

It's common among queer circles for people to love creature designs aesthetically (like martians) because there's a certain ungendered quality unrestricted by the rigid human western gender binary's expectations.

Essentially what you're describing- "martians are cool because they're spindly with big ol' eyes" and have "banger designs" that's the gender. Gender is more than "J'onn is a man" (if we ignore the times in canon his gender fluidity is a thing for a moment), gender can also be "J'onn acts ethereal, I love his scantly clad superhero outfit, and his martian form!" Hope that helps!

[angstics]

gerard is such an old queen. miss him. id send her campy postcards custom made with me, scantly clad, held bridal by a huge gorilla statue. wish you were here, pink, cursive. and she’d send it back signed and marked with a kiss. to q thanks for everything! gerard way

[wordsbymae]

nooo the wandering eyes😭 farmer, you were supposed to be different</3

would he ever see the insecurity of his little mouse? them trying to change to be more like people that he keeps looking at? and i'll be patiently waiting for the breaking point of mousey you mentioned, dear author👀

- 💫

Hehe my bad. If it helps, older farmer only has eyes for his pumpkin. But unfortunately, we're talking about Playboy Farmer so yeah his eyes wander slightly. He by no means ever acts on it, won't even talk to whoever he's eyeing. He's just a stupid man who doesn't see how it could count as cheating. To answer your question....maybe, most likely not. Mouse doesn't go out very much so it's only once or twice they notices this happening, and like most insecurities, it festers under their skin for a long time.

It starts small, eyes darting to look at their reflection before glancing away, worrying about how their clothes fit or how their hair looks. And despite telling the farmer they didn't really care what that cruel person said, those words dart around their head, causing doubt and worry. It's manageable though. Especially since they don't see many people so there are not many to compare themselves to.

But then they go out one weekend. To some market or fair or whatever. They walk hand in hand through the grounds, the farmer almost bored but still willing to be dragged where ever his sweet mousey wishes to go.

He stands behind them as they try to win a stuffed cow. Mousey's aim was shocking, but he knew they like to have a go first before passing the toy rifle over to him. He begins to lose interest, eyes wandering away.

Then a flash of skin catches his eye. A snake dancer is passing by, barely wearing anything at all, skin open for all to see. Long legs and a pretty face. Can you blame the double take he did, the low whistle and the roaming eyes from head to toe?

Mousey can. They turned when he whistled, thinking he was proud of the shot they just took. He was always saying they couldn't shoot for shit. Instead, they turn to see him lusty after a scantly clad figure, dancing with a snake roaming across their limbs. They dance with a fever, golden cloth shimmering in the light, eyes dark and seductive. Mouse watches as his eyes gaze at them in hunger, his mouth smirking. Mousey can't recall him ever looking at them like that.

They throw the gun onto the table and march away, tears blurring their vision. How could they compete with someone like that? So gorgeous that it hurt to look at them. They never dressed like that, acted like that, looked like that or even felt like that. They were just as plain as a mouse, nothing special or to write home to, nothing but someone to settle for.

Because that's why the farmer was with them, wasn't it? No one else wanted him, so he settled for what he could get. A boring little mousey. They rushed away, trying desperately to cover their tears.

It took the farmer a regrettable minute to realise mouse was gone. His eyes followed the dancer until they turned a corner and then he swung back around to see how his pretty mouse was getting on. Only to find them missing. His eyes darted around in fear and worry. Where did they run off to? did something happen?

He rushed forward into the crowd. His mousey was missing and wasn't gonna waste one second.

~~~~~~~~~~

He finds them sitting on the tray on his truck, eyes red and cheeks puffy. They were hunched over and tight lipped staring at the muddy ground below.

"Darlin'!" he called, "where the hell you bin, I've been lookin' for you everywhere. You got me worried sick"

You gave a loud sniff and turned your eyes away

"Why you cryn', someone say something? Was it that shit head?" he asked, hands finding your checks.

You flinched away from him, grimising as his touch.

"No body said anything" you grumbled, wishing he would just leave you alone

"Somebody do somethin then? Who was it" he growled. "You just give me a name, hell a face, and I'll fix it"

"You" you whispered with anger. "You did it. You're the reason I'm crying. You're the reason the night's been ruined"

"What I do mousey!" he huffed, "is it cause I wasn't watchin' ya shot the cans. I was watching, I swear!"

"How could you? you clearly had your eyes elsewhere! Couldn't peal them off, not even long enough to see me leave!" anger was rising now, pain morphing into a rage

"Now sweet-" he tried, his mistake now clear to him

"Do you even love me? Or are you just settling down with the only person who would be desperate enough to stay with you" came a growl

"Of course I love you!"

he was getting mad now, you could tell, defensive even.

"You show that love by eye fucking strangers? hm?" you jumped from the tray and gave him a light pushback. "I saw the way you looked at them! Like, like you actually wanted them. Like you were desperate for them!"

He let you advance upon him, his mind struggling to keep up. He just looked, why was it such a problem to just look?

"I would never cheat on you darlin'. Never" His hands were raised now in surrender or in defence you weren't too sure.

"Why should I believe you? It's a look today, a touch tomorrow and then next thing I know you're fucking them in our bed!" you shouted, eyes narrowed in hurt. This was apparently too far for him.

"Now you listen here mouse, I admit I ain't no church boy, not some holier than thou man free of sin. But I would never betray you like that, in our bed or anywhere. You are the only thing I care about." He huffed, rough hands gripping your shoulders tight. Love and pain were clear in his eyes.

"So yeah, I looked at someone else, my eyes do sometimes wander" You gave a groan of disgust "But! But they always come back to you. Come on darlin' let's just forget about this and head on home yeah? Or I can win you that stuffed cow you were after."

"I can't just forget!" you sneered.

"Well, why the hell not! Have you at least tried?"

"I can't forget because you don't look at me like that!"

Silence lingered, tears fell a bit further, and hands slipped away from your shoulders.

"You don't look at me like you want me" you whispered, "or like you're desperate to touch me, to have me. You just..... look at me, but never like how you looked at them"

"You can be real fucking dumb sometimes honey"

"Excuse me?"

"Of course, I don't look at you like that" he scoffed, and your heart fell "I ain't looking at you like that cause unlike anyone else, I need you. Like I need air to breathe or water to live. Without you, I'd die of heartbreak"

"Yeah right" you mumble

"It's true! Without you, I'd drink myself dead in a matter of days! And when I look at you, I look at you like I'm fucking in love with you, 'cause I am. So why would I look at someone like how I look at you? "

You stumbled over what to say, how to answer but nothing came out.

"And also I look at you like I wanna fuck you all the time, you just don't see me looking. Which is good for me 'cause I get to catch you in some pretty naughty situations" He smirked before a well-aimed slap to the arm changed his mouth to a small ow.

"If I ever, and I mean ever catch you looking at someone else you can sleep with the dogs"

"Aye, aye captain," he said, giving a mock salute as you giggled.

"You're not so easily forgiven though"

"Oh? And how does the light and love of my life wish me to be punished for my misdeeds?"

"Go be a man and win me that cow."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In all seriousness though, looking at other people like he did isn't very faithful at all and would be something I would struggle to forgive, but this is fiction sooooo

Tag list: @floraroselaughter

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 16 -> CH 17

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @thatsthewrongwallcraig @icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver @ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71

Jack knew he had to come clean to Dr. Carty about what he did the other night. He was surprisingly not as pissed as he would have expected.

"Jack, if your side effects were this bad then you should have told me. I will send a few new prescriptions to the pharmacy but I want you to start making notes of the side effects every day. We have to figure out a better way for you to get the things you need without wrecking your system." Dr. Carty pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You're lucky she checked on you when she did. You could have died." He scolded softly and Jack nodded his head.

"I know. I guess if I'm going to have a guardian angel, it's probably a good thing she's a nurse that lives next door." Jack could see that Dr. Carty wasn't impressed with the humor.

"You should consider adding her as an emergency contact in the event you decide you want to get a little fast and loose with your medications again." He peered over his glasses and Jack scrunched his face.

"I don't think we're there just yet." Jack didn't want to burden Y/n with so much of his shit so soon. He wanted to build up a connection before she had to be a part of all his demons.

They talked for almost an extra hour, discussing new medications, what they're supposed to do and some of the side effects. Jack made sure to make a list to ask Y/n about the next time he saw her which turned out to be at around 9:30 that night. He saw her taking her evening walk as he sat on the porch reading through googles best medication side effects. He sat the computer down and jogged towards her.

"Hey!" She jumped making him laugh.

"Sorry, you scared me." She pulled her headphones out and pocketed them as he started walking next to her.

"You're looking a lot better. How are you feeling?" Y/n she asked as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm feeling a lot better thanks to you. I just wanted to apologize again-"

"Jack please. I'm just glad I was able to get to you in time. I highly suggest switching to weed if you need something to knock you out but that's just my medical opinion." She smiled at him.

"I finally talked to my Doc about the medicine change. I made a list of all the ones he's changing up just in case you want to give an opinion on that too." Jack pulled the list out and she laughed.

"Are you comfortable sharing that with me? I mean you can just tell me about the side effects when they hit. You don't have to-"

"I trust you." Jack pressed and she took the slip of paper. She nodded at the names and handed it back to him.

"These are some good alternatives. I would keep an eye out for dry mouth with this one. They make tabs to put under your tongue if it gets too annoying." Jack smiled at the recommendation.

"Who takes care of you if you're taking care of everyone else?" Jack asked curiously.

"Oh I've taken care of myself since I was young. I don't require a lot of care anyway. You'll be shocked to hear I am insanely boring." She lowered her voice.

"I don't believe that for one second. I'm sure you've got a wild night life that no one knows about. Maybe a secret second job at a club where you can dance in scantly clad clothes to get your kicks." Jack teased.

"So you think I'm a nurse by day and a stripper by night?" She laughed.

"I barely have enough energy to wash my hair let alone change out of scrubs to find some upper body to swing around a pole. Plus I have terrible knees." Jack laughed as she tried to show off a squat and winced.

"Okay so no secret double life. How about hobbies? What do you like to do when you aren't working or taking care of your mom and crazy neighbor?" Jack watched her take a moment to actually think about it.

"I like to read. I like to build things with my hands. I love to paint." Jack let out a belly laugh.

"Well shit why didn't you say that? I have tons of house that needs painting!" Jack gestured over his shoulder towards the house and she shook her head at him.

"I like landscape painting, not free manual labor." She pointed out.

"Maybe you could do a painting for me? My dad was an artist. He has this drawing of the house that kind of got wrecked during the clean out. I would love to get it redone. I'll even pay you for it." Jack offered.

"You don't have to pay me. I'm not an artist. I just like to paint." She blushed. This was kind of the first time Jack had seen a more vulnerable side of Y/n. She always seemed confident in how she presented herself. As a nurse, as a daughter, as a care taker.

"What about you? I think you mentioned you like to write?" Y/n remembered.

"Yeah I'm working on a book about my life...kind of. Changing the names to protect the guilty I suppose." Jack rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I'm sure it'll be great. The horror stories of our lives always make for believable fiction. Most people don't think there are people who actually struggle as writers portray." She paused in front of the front gate and Jack stopped walking.

"Maybe...you could read some of what I have? Let me know how believable it is?" Jack asked nervously earning a sweet smile.

"I would love that, Jack." Jack now felt more anxious than before knowing she might hate his writing or his life story.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. Please call me if you start to feel your breathing getting weird. I'm still worried you're going to have after effects." Y/n touched his arm and he nodded.

"I'm feeling better, I promise but I will call you if anything feels off." Jack promised.

"You can call me too if you need anything...or you know, you just want to talk." Jack took a step further and Y/n laughed.

"You want to talk about all the neighborhood gossip? Did you see Sharon's new gardening outfit? Absolutely scandalous." She teased.

"If Sharon's the one with the red hair and huge tits then yes, absolutely scandalous." Jack's smirk made Y/n hit his chest with the back of her hand.

"Ew Jack! Stop jerking off to the neighbors!" She pushed her way through the gate and Jack threw his hands up.

"What!? You can't just expect me to not take advantage of free tits!? I'm a man!" He defended.

"Now you're hurting my feelings. I thought I was special." She put her hands over her heart.

"You are. You still hold the top spot of best tits in town." Jack admitted. Y/n smiled so brightly her cheeks were blushed as she shook her head.

"Goodnight Jack." She waved over her shoulder and Jack turned back to the road to walk himself home. He took a breath he didn't know he had been holding, worried things would have changed between them. He was ready to make a different kind of connection with Y/n. He just hoped she felt the same way.

[gogogodzilla]

Chapter 1

Summary: You investigate a murder and try not to stare too hard at the fancy android detective ✧ masterlist ✧ ao3 ✧ wattpad ✧ ✧ next chapter ✧

The stench of the Ortiz house clogged your nose as you walked through the front door. You held back a gag as you brought your hand to cover your nostrils, the action providing only slight relief.

"Chris, can we get someone to open up these windows?" You enquired, poking your head outside to look at the police officer.

Chris Miller looked up from his data tablet and chuckled a little bit, "We already did, Doctor." The news reporters were beginning to gather like carrion birds scouring for their next meal. Neighbors had started to gather as well. These people had nothing better to do with their night than try to sneak a peak at a corpse.

You crinkled your nose and went back inside to examine the crime scene. You weren't sure why they called you in tonight; crime scenes usually weren't, well... your scene. However, DPD brought you in as a police consultant aiming to better understand deviant's behavior.

You scanned the slaughter laid out before you hugged your tablet close to your chest. You aimed your focus at the writing on the wall.

"I AM ALIVE" written in perfect font, something only an android could do. You tried not to look at the body, fighting the bile that crawled up your throat. Instead, you turned your attention to the magazines glowing light on the counter. You wrinkled your nose, "Android Sex Officially Better!" as a scantly clad android posed mid-dance on the cover.

"You see this shit?" You questioned Chris, holding up the magazine. Chris scanned the magazine cover and a smile graced his features as he tried to hide it. You scoffed as you tossed the magazine back on the counter.

"People like what they like, Doctor," Chris replied, poorly silenced chuckles escaping from his lips.

You crossed your arms, pulling the tablet closer to your chest, a shield against Chris's all-knowing eyes boring into you. You tried to remain neutral towards androids, but a small part of you always felt bad for them. Slaves who didn't even know they were slaves, at least not until it was too late and someone ended up like Carlos Ortiz.

Your eyes fluttered to the front door of the Ortiz house where Detective Collins was leading Lieutenant Anderson. Your eyes lit up, eager to greet your old friend. Your face dropped as you saw the figure following diligently behind Lieutenant Anderson. The blue triangle stood out against the dim light in the house. RK800 glowed a bright white against the other side of the android's jacket. You quickly turned your back to them, attempting to appear busy. Detective Collins rattled on about the crime scene and the victim as you watched them from the corner of your eye.

As Detective Collins finished his speech, you slowly moved towards the bathroom of the house, hoping Lieutenant Anderson wouldn't notice you. You grimaced as Hank called out your name, "What are you doing here?" He enquired, glancing over at you.

You slowly turned around, feeling like a teenager that got caught sneaking out. "It's good to see you, Lieutenant," you greeted as your eyes flitted over to the android scanning the scene. You stepped closer to Hank, leaning in, "Who's your friend?" You asked, a slight smile on your lips knowing the kind of reaction you'd get out of him.

The lieutenant's nose crinkled in disgust, but before he could accumulate a response, the android stood in front of you. "My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by Cyberlife to assist the DPD in their investigations pertaining to androids."

He was... pleasant to look at, to say the least. You glanced over at the lieutenant, "I thought that was supposed to be my job?" You inquired, a tight feeling forming in your chest.

Hank grabbed your shoulder and gave you a look, "Don't worry, kid. It's just here for this case and then it'll be out of our hair."

You frowned, not favoring the way Hank referred to Connor as 'it'. The tight feeling in your chest remained, though the reason seemed to shift.

You watched as Connor returned to examining the murder weapon. Suddenly, Connor reached out two fingers and swiped them across the knife. Curiosity begged you to keep your attention on the android as he...

Oh.

Your eyebrows shot to the top of your forehead as Connor brought his fingers to his lips and stuck them in his mouth. The lieutenant let out a disgusted noise and barked, "Jesus, what the hell are you doing?"

Connor stood up, a small grin gracing his features, almost like he was proud of himself. "I'm checking samples in real time. I'm sorry," he paused, his eyebrows furrowing, "I should have warned you..."

Hank's eyes shifted from Connor to the knife, not knowing where to look. "Okay, just... don't," he paused failing his hands around," put anymore evidence in your mouth, you got it?"

"Got it," Connor replied, shooting Hank a semblance of finger guns with the hand he just stuck in his mouth. You wondered if androids had to wash their hands, or if Cyberlife gave them some sort of automatic cleaning module.

"Fucking hell, I can't believe this shit," Hank sighed as he met your eyes and ventured deeper into the house. You raised your eyebrows again, sparing one more glance at Connor before following Hank.

"Hey," Chris greeted, "there's something in the bathroom you should take a look at."

You nodded and made your way to the bathroom, eager to put some distance between yourself and Connor. You entered and scanned the scene before you. Frenzied writing covered the shower walls along with a figurine made out of... something. RA9 was written over and over again.

"Some sort of shrine," you whispered to yourself, tilting your head slightly, attempting to make something out of the image in front of you. You saw something move out of the corner of your eye and moved your head slowly, the hairs on the back of your neck pricking up.

Connor was standing in the doorway, silently watching you.

"Shit!" you gasped, jumping away from him and your back hit the wall. Your data pad clutched tightly to your chest, a shield against the offending android.

"I apologize," he paused, "did I frighten you?" His eyes continued to watch you, as you lowered your data pad away from your chest.

"Just a little bit," you chuckled, turning your attention back to the shower. "It seems like some sort of shrine to... RA9? Whatever that is."

Connor was silent as he knelt down, his clothes rustling as he leaned forward to pick up the figure. You were pretty sure they weren't supposed to touch evidence, but you figured that he should just go all the way since he touched the murder weapon anyways. His eyes were unmoving as the pieces of the puzzle shifted in his head. You watched, slightly unnerved. What was he thinking in that perfectly put-together head of his?

Connor stood up, causing you to step back slightly. You didn't realize that you had moved next to him, captivated by watching him work. Your cheeks flushed at the close proximity, attempting to avoid his eyes. He gave you a small nod and left the bathroom, his quiet footfalls letting you know of his retreat. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Lieutenant," Connor's voice called, "I think I've figured out what happened."

Your ears perked up, giddy for another chance of watching Connor work. You let your face fall, wasn't this the perso— android that was threatening to take your job? Your posture straightened, and you meandered to the hallway, waiting to see what Connor came up with.

Let's see how good at his job he really is.

  "Oh yeah?" Hank asked from his position lounging on the wall. He raised his eyes and shrugged, "Shoot, I'm all ears."

Connor straightened, preparing to present his findings to the lieutenant. "It all started in... the kitchen."

Hank nodded as he started to follow Connor into the kitchen. You watched as Connor's eyes focused on the baseball bat on the floor. "There are obvious signs of a struggle... The question is, what exactly happened here..." Hank looked over at Connor as he finished his sentence. It almost sounded like he was testing Connor. Like, he already had the whole case solved, he was just waiting for Connor to catch up.

You pursed your lips, waiting for Connor's response. "I think the victim attacked the android with the bat." You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, what did he mean by "he thinks"? Shouldn't he know?

"That lines up with the evidence," Hank nodded to Connor, "Go on." Hank and Connor switched places in the kitchen, and you scooted closer to the fridge, not wanting to get in Connor's way.

Connor almost looked eager now. "The android stabbed the victim," he replied, nodding his head at the knife rack missing the largest appliance.

"So the android tried to defend itself, right?" Hank replied as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, "Okay, then what happened?"

"The victim fled to," Connor paused before aiming his gaze at where Carlos's body landed, "the living room."

Hank followed Connor, and you waited for a beat before following them, eager to see where Connor was going with this. You claimed Hank's spot from earlier, trying to look inconspicuous, typing something into your data pad, deleting what you wrote, and writing it again.

"And he tried to get away from the android... Alright, that makes sense," Hank responded, rubbing his chin. They went on for a little longer, and you were partially listening, mostly trying to appear busy so they didn't send you home. You really wanted to see what Connor was capable of.

"It was damaged by the bat... and lost some Thirium," Connor stated.

"It lost some what?" Hank questioned, his eyebrows scrunching.

"Thirium. You call it 'Blue Blood'," Connor declared, "It's the fluid that powers androids' biocomponents. It evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye."

Hank scoffed, sending you a look when your eyes met. You quickly looked away. "Oh, but I bet you can still see it, can't ya?"

"Correct."

Hank rolled his eyes and returned to his spot next to you, crossing his arms. Clearly, he was done with Connor's charade. Connor paused, surveying the scene once more, looking like a bloodhound searching for a trail. For a second your eyes met. You quickly looked away, pointing your gaze at anything but the android in front of you. Suddenly, Connor was on the trail, following something only he could see.

A thud came from the kitchen, and Hank let out a deep sigh. His hands unclenched under his arms, as he went to go investigate. You followed, curiosity nipping at your heels.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! What are you doin' with that chair?" Hank questioned, glaring at Connor.

Connor paused, his posture rigid, "I'm going to check something."

"Huh," Hank sighed, looking at you, "going to check something." You gave him a small smile back, your eyes following Connor as he strode down the hallway. He picked up the chair like it was nothing, and placed it in a spot below the attic.

"What the hell is he doing?" you murmured to Hank, who shrugged in reply.

Connor disappeared into the attic for what felt like forever. You repeatedly checked the time on your data pad, waiting for any indication that Connor was okay. "What the hell is taking him so long?" You questioned Hank, starting to get agitated.

Hank shrugged, moving towards the attic entrance, "Connor! What the fuck is going on up there?"

It was silent for a moment. You gripped your tablet, praying for a response.

"It's here, Lieutenant!"

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding while Hank pushed you behind him. "Holy shit," Hank breathed, "Chris, Ben, get your asses in here now. Come on!" You didn't need Hank to protect you, but it was a nice sentiment.

This was going to be interesting. 

[wolfertinger666]

guy who still rags abt the "Tumblr artstyle " and sees t4t furries in scantly clad outfits and has a revelation.