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thepinkwriterr · 9 months

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Capricorn Season Chapter Thirty

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Word Count: 3.6k

She liked the beard. He looked rugged, in his own special way. The appeal of his beauty was always the defiled innocence of his smooth face. When he told her that he was growing it out she thought he would look horrible. But when she saw him she didn't think that at all.

She was laying on her stomach on the bed, feet in the air, and kicking them like a schoolgirl. He was sitting on the floor in front of the mirror, doing his hair and getting ready for the day.

"Have I ever told you how much I love the beard?" She asked, locking eyes with his reflection.

He smiled and turned to look at her. "No, you haven't. I was getting a bit nervous that you hadn't said anything about it yet." "Well, I love it," she kissed the top of his head, "Now I've said something." "I'm glad you do. I think it looks nice." "You look like a sexy professor like that." She was referring to his outfit. He wore a white dress shirt, complete with ruffles, and a nice pair of trousers. "That's kind of the look I was going for. Scarf or no scarf?" He held up a green silk scarf. She thought it complimented his outfit well and told him so. He nodded and began to tie it. "You should try it like this." She reached her hands around his neck.

His breath hitched as her hands brushed against his skin. The scent of her filled his nose, an unmistakable smell that only she possessed. It was floral and vanilla. He always thought it was wonderful. He thought it could be a mix of her shampoo and deodorant.

"That looks marvelous, thank you." He spoke breathlessly.

They had been together for eight months and she still made him dizzy and fumbling. He couldn't deny her effect, didn't want to. She smiled sweetly and sat back on the pillows, continuing the reading of her book. How could she be so unceremonious, so laid back, when she was absolutely breathtaking? She was stunning, certainly the most beautiful woman he had seen, but didn't seem to care. She thought this way about him too. She often thought how he didn't seem to be cognizant of how wonderful he really looked. Sometimes he was even insecure, which was always a laugh for her. The only time he looked poorly was when he chose a bad outfit, which she always had something to say about. "You need to change. A red scarf clashes with a yellow top and the plaid printed pants don't match anything you're wearing!" "No, the red scarf matches the red pants. There is yellow in my pants and yellow on my top. It goes together." "Fine, but you're the one who is going to look bad." "I don't look bad!" "That outfit is a disaster. I don't want you to leave the hotel like that." She was mostly joking, ending in a laugh. But it was true! He looked terrible. "Is this criticism or care?" "Care, I promise. Trust me, Jimmy, it looks bad." "I disagree." He shrugged, "And I'm wearing it to the show." "Alright, but it's your fashion funeral." His outfit today looked much better. His colors matched and he was presentable. "Love, I think you should start getting ready. We have to leave soon." "I think I'll just go like this." "Can I give you some fashion advice?" "Oh, no. Does my outfit look that poor?" She laughed.

He grimaced, gesturing to tell her "a little bit". "Fine, I'll change. What is the weather like?" "Hot. It's August." "Good point."

She chose a pair of shorts and a short top. The shirt she wanted to wear was in Lorelei's possession. She didn't mind, because she had asked. Robert and Jimmy never did. Yesterday she caught Robert sifting through her clothes! "Um, what are you doing?" She had been watching him rifling through her things like a rat. He jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Oh, Jesus, you scared me!" "I ask again, what are you doing?" She shifted her weight and put her hand on her hip. "Looking for something to wear." "Can you at least ask? Jeez. What do you want?" "That flowery blouse you wore last week." "Robert, you can't fit in that!" "Yes, I can! I'm slim." "Fine," She threw the balled-up shirt at him, "but if you stretch it out I'm killing you." "I won't, I swear." He did. She looked at the blouse now, wearing a frown. It still fit, although now loose and frumpy. Perhaps she'd just have Richard do her laundry and he would shrink it for her. He was a lousy tour mother.

He took more of a liking to her than Grant but still didn't cater to her, but Jimmy did not enjoy the way he looked at and talked about her. He had made it clear from the first day she joined that he found her attractive. He first justified the uncomfortable interaction with the notion that she was a lovely girl and he would just have to get used to people finding her fit. But Richard took it too far-- as he often did. "Jimmy, you got the best out of all the guys. Don't tell them I said that." "What does that mean?" "She's a photographer, so she's good to keep in your back pocket, she's a looker, and sweet. The way she takes care of you...Man, I need to get one of those." "And what does that mean?" He asked with a raised brow. "Y'know, I need to get a girl like that. And with her figure-" "Rich! That's his girl." Bonzo spoke for Jimmy. "My bad." He laughed. Jimmy tried his best to shuffle his anger away but it didn't work. He could feel the ugly hands of jealousy creeping in. This wasn't helped when they went to a club and men seemed to overlook him, hitting on Gwen even when they were holding hands. He was getting angrier and more jealous by the day.

He brought this to her attention, telling her it was getting hard to handle. She laughed and scoffed, and shook her head. When he asked what was the matter, the bitter bite of anger rearing at her reaction, she told him, "I have to deal with women literally trying to tear your clothes off. Do you know how many women I see literally asking to sleep with you and shrugging me off? And they're not sloppy men in a club, they're beautiful women scantily dressed. Thousands of people cheer and scream for you every single night. Women pray to god for a chance to even touch you. You know how hard that is for me?" He had thought about this, of course, but he couldn't see how that was relevant at this moment. When he told her this she seemed angry.

"You're not listening to how I feel." He exerted.

"I am, I understand. But I'm telling you that you have to get over it. I have to."

"It's not the same." He crossed his arms and pouted.

"You're right, it's worse."

"I'm a celebrity. You agreed to date me. You knew what you were getting into."

"And I'm a pretty girl. You knew what you were getting into." She crossed her arms now. They were both pouting. They'd given up trying to have an adult conversation, instead resigning to childish behavior and scoffs.

She thought about this interaction as she put on her shoes. His logical fallacy was amusing to her now, simply a musing that was pushed into the past. They'd both learned to get over their silly feelings of jealousy. At least

she

had. She hoped he had, but didn't know how untrue her thoughts were.

That night, after the show, another fit would strike. The concert had gone well, not having any interruptions or issues. Gwen took some nice photos and had a great time. Their energy always inspired her and spurred her to take wonderful photos.

As they were entranced by the music flowering from their fingertips they struck natural poses. They tried their best to face the audience, partly for her frames, partly for the audience. It was hard, though, they were so tight-knit and worked best when it was just them. Their shows felt like jam sessions when they first started, but as the audiences grew, so did the space between them.

After the show, they went to a club, as was becoming usual. Some towns didn't have good clubs or parties and those were the nights they partied together. But this was Texas and the parties were

superb

, as Robert put it.

Gwen wore her shorts and top from earlier in the day and Lorelei was in a pretty dress. The guys had showered and changed, a short detour on their way to the club. She was not excited to be packed into a sweaty lounge with loud music. They'd just been in the same environment and she didn't know why they had to go back. She wanted to wind down with a nice shower and a good book after a show.

Perhaps they were too filled with adrenaline to be that calm. She knew about this rush, not only because they'd detailed it to her before, but because Jimmy was wired after a show. He was borderline manic, his eyes wide and his mouth going a mile a minute. It was a natural drug, one that gave his reserved personality a spark.

He was charged after a show, particularly his sex drive, which was insane when the lights went out. He had detailed to her how carnal performing was. And he proved it. They weren't even back to the hotel and he would be trying to rip her clothes off. She would protest, telling him they were in public. He would shrug and continue to kiss her. She pushed him back, further exerting that he was sweaty and stinky and would need to shower before she would even consider sleeping with him. Tonight was no different.

He wanted her more than ever. His eyes drifted to her exposed legs, long and taut. He transfixed his eyes on her chest, considering it as a resting place for his tired hands. When he attempted this she slapped his hand away.

How could one person get so sweaty? He was dripping buckets! He could perform stark nude and he'd still come out slippery and stinky. He was like a caught fish.

After he was fresh and cleaned off, she allowed him to kiss her. He gladly devoured her lips in a hungry display of virile fervor. She could rise a dead man from his tomb with those lips, he thought. He was grateful she let him kiss her. He was desperate for any kind of contact with her.

She laughed and told him to get that thing down before they got to the club. She stopped kissing him, despite his whimpering protests. He was staring at her as they walked into the club. She looked wonderful. Never before had she looked this way. Although, he thought that with each passing day. Her beauty grew, swelling until it reached a sweltering heat that choked him. She was far too beautiful to be real or to be his. He'd found an angel amongst men. Someone had begun to threaten this beauty. A man, a bumbling fool, was grabbing at her. They were on the dancefloor and Jimmy was not sharing. He saw Gwen's face, scared and wanting to hide away. Still drunk on adrenaline and filled with jealousy, Jimmy pushed the guy aside with heavy force. "I'm sorry about that, Darling. But you are mine once more." He smiled. This victory was short-lived. The man came back around quickly, angry with Jimmy. "She's my girlfriend. Fuck off." He did not mince words. He was drunk and malice dripped from his tongue. She could smell the whiskey from where she was standing. It was not an attractive sight.

"My apologies, man. I didn't know she had a man." "So you'll respect me now? Just because I have a man." She spoke loudly as to be heard over the music.

He looked at her with a disgruntled expression.

"Well? Are you just going to look at me like you're stupid?" She widened her eyes, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

"You're a bitch." He said simply, sneering with disgust. He couldn't believe she would be so brazen.

Jimmy sobered with those words, now stricken with fury. He was not a physical man and would not often resort to violence. "Don't speak to her that way. You need to leave, right now." His words were cutting, his eyes lowering into menacing slits.

"Are you going to make me, cheerios?" "What? That doesn't even make sense. And never mind that. I won't, but he will." Jimmy pointed him in the direction of Peter. Gwen now understood why having him in your corner was a good idea. When things got ugly you needed a guy like him. "You can leave on your own or his accord."

Jimmy's gaze got Peter's attention and he headed over to them in short strides. "This guy bothering you?" He asked, his voice was sharp and intimidating. His size was suddenly noticeable, his voice as round and sonorous as his body.

"Yeah," Jimmy said.

Without hesitation, Peter picked the guy up and threw him over his shoulder. He looked like a child, so small and defenseless in his grasp. This made Gwen laugh, loosening her grasp on Jimmy's arm. She had been clinging to him in fear. Random drunk men approaching her wasn't any less uncomfortable for her than it was for him.

"Are you alright, love?" Peter asked when he was back in their presence. He had thrown the guy on the pavement, placing him down haphazardly. He hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you." She smiled appreciatively. Who knows what would have happened if Peter hadn't come to her rescue? Jimmy wasn't exactly the burly type.

"Don't worry, girl, I'll always be here if that happens again." Peter clapped a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder and went back to his place next to Bonzo.

Jimmy turned back, gloating with a smile. Gwen was not as happy. She was filled with bitterness. A mixture of her discomfort and a general disdain for her environment was making her unhappy. Her mind couldn't help but wander to all of these uncomfortable places. Her discomfort was palpable as she stared into space. The familiar feeling of strange hands made her insides cringe. She pushed her feelings down and tried to get through this unbearable night. The club was not a place to fight.

The next morning her anger erupted. It must have been building all night, stacking up while she slept. She could feel the weight of her dread when she woke. It was a metric ton of bricks on her chest. She didn't want to bother Jimmy this early in the morning. Not only was she angry and bitter, but anxious about letting it out. She didn't want to bite his head off but also didn't want to suppress it.

She could still feel those terrible hands on her body. It made her skin erupt into a flaming rash of anxiety. Her breathing was heavy and labored. Her limbs could not stop fidgeting. What seemed like a small advance lead to a shattering of her mental state. That man was not trying to flirt, he intended to shake her.

And she was shaken. She trembled like a leaf throughout the night and into the light stretch of the morning sun. Breakfast did not help. Bonzo was especially nasty that day. Before she'd even gotten down to eat he was talking shit. She heard him talking to Robert, saying one of the worst things she'd ever heard about herself. "She's a carpenter's wet dream. Flat like a board and in need of a screw." He bellowed with a guttural laugh. She could hear the smile in his voice.

Her first instinct was to pounce. But she didn't. She waited. She wanted to hear what everyone would say. Robert spoke first, "Bonzo, that is horrible."

Jimmy and Jonesy said nothing.

Last night was bad enough, to be treated as an object and only defended for some cheap honor. Jimmy wasn't defending her, he was defending his manhood. How dare someone touch his precious doll that sat on his little shelf? His reluctance, rather than his refusal, to defend her in a meaningful way was shown to her. He said nothing when it mattered.

Her face contorted with the weight of betrayal. She wasn't so hurt by what Bonzo said, but more so by Jimmy's silence. This had far surpassed a few teasing comments. Bonzo hated her, hated Jimmy's girlfriend and he didn't seem to care.

They turned at the sound of her shuffling feet in the doorway. They saw her pained expression. This pleased Bonzo. He was content to know his shot had landed on the target.

He got a twisted pleasure from hurting her. It was a special treat for a lone audience. On the days that he imbibed early in the morning, he attacked her.

She turned away with hot tears brewing on her lashline, quiet steps rushing from the scene.

The room was quiet now. They shuffled their eyes, passing awkward glances around. Robert broke the tension, as he often did. He found it hard to always be the peacekeeper, the jester, and the pretty one. But these roles needed to be filled, and he was multifaceted.

"You should go talk to her."

Jimmy grimaced and burned in hot anger. Who was Robert to tell him what he should do with his own girlfriend? He knew what was best for his relationship! But he stood with a huff and went to their room.

When he was out of their sight he broke into a fast-paced walk. He knew he was in trouble, he knew he was in the wrong. Perhaps that's why things played out the way they did. He didn't want to be wrong. He would rather die than apologize.

He was on her heels, in the room before she could even shut the door.

When he entered she just looked at him. She was overcome with feelings.

She just wanted to scream at him. "Gwen-" "Don't. Just don't. I don't want some half-assed apology." "I'm sorry." "I said I don't want it. I'm sick of you not standing up for me. Do you know how embarrassing that is? I heard what he said." She tried her best to remain calm. "I just don't know what to say." "You sure knew what to say last night." "What does that mean?" His expression was causing anger to churn inside her. It was a poorly plugged drain. The stopper was beginning to lose its seal and she soon would explode. "You can defend me when your honor is in question. This has never been about me, it's been about your ego. When your ego is concerned, you will say something. You don't care about me! You only care about yourself." Her voice raised in pitch as she spoke. "We're having this conversation again? That is not true! And you know it isn't. It's not the same when it's your friend." "Robert stood up for me. It's clearly not an issue for him." "What are you implying?" "Nothing." "Oh, c'mon, you were so brazen before. Don't be so shy now." "No, I didn't mean anything by it. He stood up for me and you didn't." "I think you meant something entirely different." "Like what?" She prodded.

She had waded into dangerous territory. No longer was this an argument about the topic at hand. They were taking jabs at one another due to unspoken feelings. She could feel the energy shifting to something nasty.

"I used to think Robert was just flirting with you because he's a whore, but now I see the truth. He's in love with you!" "In love with me? Jimmy, was just sticking up for me. You couldn't even do that." "No, you don't get it. Men don't do nice things for women unless they want something from them. He wants to take you to bed." "You sound crazy!" "I'm crazy? You're the one yelling at Bonzo and getting an attitude with me!" "Well, I think you have a problem with Robert because you feel inferior. You think he's more of a man than you and you're worried he's going to take me from you." "Maybe if you didn't dress that way he wouldn't be throwing himself all over you. Maybe Grant would take you more seriously." "I cannot fucking believe you. You've reached a new low." Her tone dropped, laying flat where her emotions lie.

She was hurt. She knew this wasn't how he truly felt, he was trying to hurt her. With nothing left to say, she left the room. Their room was no longer a place where love could be facilitated. She had to escape.

She left Jimmy's grasp immediately and directly to Robert's room. She placed three sharp knocks on the door.

It revealed a damp Lorelei. Her curls were stringy and wet, dangling down at her cheeks. Her face and arms were flecked with drops of water.

"Hey, girl, is everything alright?" She asked, scrunching her hair with a white towel. She had another one wrapped around her torso.

Gwen stepped in with apprehension. "Lore, there's something I need to tell you." She stood in the doorway, a look on her face that scared Lorelei.

----

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin , @jimmysdragonsuit13

#jimmy page #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #Jimmy Page smut #jimbert #capricorn season #classic rock fandom #classic rock fanfiction #classic rock imagine #classic rock imagines #robert plant #robert plant fanfiction #robert plant smut

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bijouxcarys · 4 months

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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.”

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