[nyraeafterdark]

Sit

Prompt: He’ll suffocate before he lets his sweetheart rise from her throne

Pairing(s): Robert Robertson (Mecha Man) x reader

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex (f receiving), face sitting, overstimulation, robbie being a cruel munch, cum marking

A/N: i think about this shit daily and i dont regret it, think i did ok, i aint proof read this shit but it's good nuff

Robert wasn’t the type to be dramatic.

He wasn’t the type to grovel, to beg, or to act like some lovesick idiot just because you gave him attention. He was polite, sarcastic, composed, and professional — even when the Z-Team was actively trying to give him a stroke over the comms.

You’d seen him keep a straight face through building collapses, hero meltdowns, and Sonar’s unmedicated nonsense.

But tonight?

Tonight the man walked into your apartment like he was holding back a storm.

Still in his SDN button-up — sleeves rolled to his elbows, a little grease smudged on his forearm, hair mussed from work — he looked at you like you had personally ended his last shred of self-control.

“You’re home early,” you teased.

“Yeah.”

His voice had that strained, polite edge he only used when he was barely hanging on.

“Work… was a mess. And you weren’t answering your phone. Again.”

You smirk. “Missed me?”

He exhaled once through his nose — not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh — stepping closer, hands slipping to your hips like he didn’t remember deciding to touch you.

“Sweetheart,” he said calmly, eyes dropping to your thighs then snapping back up, “I’ve had a long day. And if I don’t get what I’ve been thinking about,”

his thumbs press firmer,

“we’re gonna have a problem.”

You blink. “And what exactly have you been thinking about, Robertson?”

He doesn’t blush.

He doesn’t stutter.

He doesn’t lose composure.

He simply sinks to his knees.

Smoothly.

Purposefully.

Like a man who’s been planning this all damn week.

Then he sits back on his heels and looks up at you — brown eyes dark, steady, focused with the same intensity he uses when giving life-or-death orders over the comms.

“Nothing,” he says quietly, firmly, “but this.”

His hands trail down your thighs as he adjusts his position on the floor — back straight, shoulders squared, expression serious like he’s taking on a mission briefing.

You raise an eyebrow. “You planning some kind of worship scenario?”

He huffs a short breath. “Planning? Sweetheart, I’m offering you a throne.”

And then, with devastating calm:

“Sit.”

And thus, that is how you’ve been for the past couple of hours — trembling, slumped over him, thighs shaking around his head as you hover above his mouth. Your release streaks warm down your legs, mixing with the slick from his tongue and the shine of his spit, all of it soaking into the sheets beneath him.

Your whole body feels wrung out, your voice raw from the sounds he’s pulled from you. Your fingers curl weakly in his hair, tugging because you barely have the strength to do anything else.

“R-Robert… no more…” you breathe, the plea breaking apart into a thin, wavering whine.

He answers with a low, dissatisfied grunt — the closest he’ll allow himself to sounding feral — and keeps going, undeterred. His lips, his tongue, even the faint scrape of his stubble… every tiny movement sends another pulse of heat through your overstimulated nerves.

Your clit is so sensitive you flinch every time his nose bumps you, every time his mouth shifts. Your whole body jerks with each touch, thighs quivering violently around his head.

“R-Robert—” you try again, voice trembling.

He just tightens his grip on your hips, holding you steady above him like he’s refusing to let gravity or exhaustion steal you away. His thumbs rub slow, grounding circles into your skin — the only mercy he’s offering.

This man is going to kill you.

You can feel the determination radiating from him, the way his breath huffs hot against you, the way he refuses to give you even a moment to fall apart properly.

Every swallow, every groan, every small shift of his mouth makes you see white behind your eyelids.

Your legs nearly buckle, and he responds by pulling you down closer — not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you whose throne you’re sitting on.

His voice finally rumbles out beneath you, low and hoarse, vibrating against your core:

“Not done.”

And you realize —he absolutely means it.

He’s not stopping until he decides you’re done.

Until your legs give out.

Until your voice breaks.

Until you physically can’t say his name anymore.

Robert Robertson III — former hero, dispatcher, polite menace —is going to worship you to death.

You’re beyond words at this point — the noises spilling out of you aren’t even moans anymore, just broken, delirious sounds you can’t swallow down. Your body trembles like you’ve been hit with a live wire, vision fragmenting at the edges.

Robert is a disaster beneath you.

His SDN uniform shirt is completely soaked from your earlier releases, chin slick, hair damp, the entire front of his pants ruined — a dark, obvious patch spreading across his thighs from where he’s come in them again and again without ever touching himself a second time.

And he still refuses to stop.

You whimper something that might be “enough,” or “please,” or maybe just his name — you’re not even sure — and try, with the last remaining strength in your body, to lift yourself off him.

It’s a mistake.

A growl rips out of him — low, sharp, warning — and then everything flips.

Your back hits the mattress before you even register he moved. Robert pins your hips down with both hands, his grip firm but careful, dragging you back to his mouth like you’ve offended him by trying to get away.

His lips close around your clit again, and the shock of overstimulation makes your spine bow clean off the bed.

His arms lock around your thighs.

You can’t move.

You can’t breathe.

You can only take it.

He pulls another orgasm out of you, painful and bright, then a second, then a third — each one tearing through your nerves until you’re shaking so hard you’re practically vibrating under him. At some point you start crying, overwhelmed, and he still doesn’t stop until your body goes limp.

Then — only then — does he finally pull away, breath ragged, eyes unfocused with how far gone he is.

He pushes himself up on trembling arms, chest heaving. With a strained groan, he shoves his ruined pants down just enough and releases over your stomach and hips — weak, barely-there pulses that tell you he’s as spent as you are.

For a few seconds, there’s nothing but the sound of both of you panting like you’ve nearly died.

You stare at the ceiling in a daze, chest rising and falling too quickly.

You’re never letting him go down on you ever again.

You also know — with painful clarity — that you’re lying.

Because it happened again the next week.

And the week after that.

And the week after that.

Robert Robertson III doesn’t know moderation.

He only knows devotion.

And once he decided his face belonged beneath you…there was no undoing it.

[moviecritc]

a leaf? for me? ୭̥⋆*｡

katon-ur (phenomaman) x fem!reader. katon-ur and his tries to flirt with the pretty woman in the cubicle next to robert's

The first time he saw you he was already mesmerized. You were just sitting in your desk, headphones on, SDN shirt looking perfect on you and big glasses sliding off the bridge of your nose. You looked so effortlessly pretty for him, he couldn't put to words the feeling he was having in his stomach. Every time he locked eyes with you, boom, his stomach twists and his palms get sweaty.

Oh, and the first time you talked to him? He was gone. Katon was talking to Robert in his desk, something about a decision on the Z Team that you didn't care about when you came to them to ask the latter about a mission report. Your voice was so sweet and velvety, he could see closer the curls on your head and the slight frizz in them that drove him insane. You were so polite, saying hi to him before sharing a small talk with Robert.

He needed to talk to you, he couldn't miss the opportunity to say something to you. But, oh no, you were already saying bye to Robert and flicking your gaze towards him to also say goodbye.

He huffs under his breath, also leaving the conversation with Robert. Katon looks around confused, taking a moment to find you again at your desk, muttering orders under your breath. He decides at that moment to come up to you.

He rehearses something in his head. 'Greetings! I, too, enjoy… mission reports.' Absolutely not. 'Hello. I noticed you are a human.' Worse. His mind pings through a dozen doomed variants until he’s right behind you and suddenly there’s no time left to be a person with a plan.

“Hi,” he blurts, far too loud and then softens, “hi” again as if the first one was just warming up.

You turn in your chair, one earphone still half on and your eyes meet his. That single glance does catastrophic things to his internal equilibrium. His solar-powered chest practically flickers.

"Hey," You say lifting your glasses with one finger.

He tries to lean on the cubicle wall. The wall is not prepared for alien density and makes a noise like someone stepped on a violin. Katon jerks upright as if nothing happened, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth in a desperate attempt at casualness.

“I, um,” he starts, and then his mind blanks spectacularly. He can feel the warmth radiating off his cheeks, he technically can't blush, but you caused that

“I noticed you were… working. Which is good. Productive. Admirable.”

He closes his eyes for half a second, recalibrating. “What I mean is… I thought perhaps I should say hello. Properly. Since earlier you… spoke. To me.”

He gestures vaguely, as if that explains everything about the indescribable way your voice lodged itself in his chest cavity.

His palms are sweating again (absolutely ridiculous, since he’s not supposed to do that either) and he hides them behind his back.

“Sorry,” he adds quickly, “I’m new to… conversational… initiating.”

A beat.

“That is a phrase, yes?” He looks at you with panic, like a supernova trying very hard to be a candle.

And you smile. He might explode.

"It is a phrase if you want it to be," you say, the warmth of your voice filling his body.

He freezes.

You keep going, because leaving him suspended in existential suspense feels cruel.

“I’ve seen you around. You’re… hard to miss.” You glance at him up and down, your tone almost teasing. “In the architectural sense.”

His eyes go wide, and he straightens as if someone installed a steel beam along his spine.

“I am… visible,” he manages, then winces because that sounded too close to bragging about occupying space. “I mean—recognizable. I meant recognizable.”

You lean an elbow on your desk. “Relax. I know what you meant.” There’s a tiny, playful glint in your eyes now. “I’m glad you said hello.”

Katon’s whole posture tilts toward you involuntarily. He clears his throat in the most heroic, overly dignified way possible.

“I am also glad,” he says earnestly. Then, after a helpless beat: “Very.”

His shoulders sag with relief, because he did it. He has officially spoken to you without exploding, imploding or accidentally lifting something heavy. And you responded. Nicely.

He stands there, trying to figure out how a normal human exits a conversation without bursting into flames.

"I will leave you to work now, beautiful lady." He bows his head before turning in his heels and walking out.

That caught you a little offhand. He was very imposing, scary for some people even, but he looked so small talking to you. And the pet name? That made you feel like an awkward alien.

You lick your lips, seeing how he exits the room from a window. He tries to find you in the room one more time before leaving. And you get it, all of a sudden. He was flirting with you.

Katon-Ur spends the next three days attempting something that, for him, is as complex as astrophysics: continued flirting. He studies humans the way botanists study rare orchids. Quietly, intensely and with absolutely zero clue what he’s doing.

Robert, regrettably, becomes his primary source of advice.

“Flowers,” Robert says, not looking up from his PC. “Girls like flowers. Bring her flowers.”

Katon nods, heroic determination setting in. Flowers. Simple. A symbol of beauty, affection, terrestrial courtship. He can do flowers.

Except he cannot.

Because by the time he makes it outside, every flower on campus is either wilted, guarded by a bee colony he refuses to disturb, or planted in a way that suggests “do not pick unless you want the groundskeeper to kill you.” Katon stands there, hands on hips, cape fluttering, staring at the greenery like it has betrayed him personally.

But there are leaves. Many leaves. And one is particularly… nice. Symmetrical. A pleasing shade of green. Perhaps humans appreciate variety. Perhaps this leaf is a flower in spirit.

He plucks it with reverence, holds it as though it's an artifact, and heads inside before he can overthink and combust.

You’re typing when he appears beside your desk again, quiet for such a tall presence, holding something behind his back. His posture is stiff with purpose and terror.

“You,” he says, then swallows. “You are working again. You do that often, I notice.”

You spin slowly in your chair, eyebrow raised. “That is sort of how jobs work, yes.”

His face lights like he’s being praised for discovering fire.

“Yes! Precisely. And I have brought—” He thrusts something out toward you, then hesitates mid-motion, grimacing as if bracing for impact. “I have brought you this.”

You look down.

It is a leaf.

A perfectly ordinary, unremarkable, wonderfully green leaf.

There is a beat of silence so delicate it might shatter.

You meet his eyes, and they’re wide with earnest hope and absolutely no sense of how absurd this is. He looks like a puppy who’s brought you a sock and is praying you’ll treasure it forever.

“A leaf?” you say, letting your voice tilt warm instead of confused. “For me?”

He nods vigorously. “Yes. It is botanical.” Another nod. “Robert said flowers. There were obstacles.”

You try very hard not to laugh, not mockingly but affectionately. Impressed by the softness you didn't expect from a man capable of punching through steel.

“Thank you,” you say instead, smiling as you take it from him. “It’s lovely.”

Katon-Ur practically malfunctions. His hands fly up in an awkward half-gesture, his breath catches, his shoulders rise, his entire demeanor flickers between relief and sheer cosmic delight.

“You… like it?” he breathes, as if the universe itself hinges on this answer.

“There’s thought behind it,” you say, brushing your thumb over the leaf’s edge. “That matters more than anything.”

His knees nearly buckle. He steadies himself on the cubicle, gently this time.

“I will bring you more,” he vows heroically, then freezes. “Not leaves. Unless you desire leaves. I can acquire many. Infinite, even.”

You laugh softly, and he looks like he’d kneel at your feet if you asked.

“Maybe,” you say, “you can just keep talking to me.”

He inhales sharply, loudly, as if you’ve given him oxygen he didn’t know he needed.

“I can do that,” he promises, glowing brighter than any sun. “Conversational initiating. Continuation? Ongoing dialogue.”

“Katon,” you say gently, “you’re adorable.”

He goes still. If he had a tail, it would be wagging so hard it’d be hazardous.

He leaves your desk that day with the stuttery gait of someone whose entire sense of gravity has been knocked askew. You watch him go, broad shoulders, cape flicking behind him like he’s walking through a heroic wind only he can feel. And the ridiculous part? He looks good doing it. Too good.

That’s the inconvenient truth you’ve been skirting around: the man is awkward as an unplugged Roomba… and yet somehow hot in the way a star is hot. Big, bright, earnest, capable of melting things if he gets too close.

You spend the rest of your workday touching the edge of that leaf like it might still carry some trace of the way he held it, fingers too careful for someone who could crush cement.

And Katon?

He spends the rest of his day thinking about you.

He tries to train afterward, or something like training (lifting a comically large metal beam) which he usually does with smooth precision. But today he drops it twice. The second time he mutters your name under his breath and startles himself so badly he nearly launches into the ceiling.

By the next morning, he’s decided a new mission directive: Get braver. Get closer. Do not combust.

You’re running an errand in the hallway when he spots you. He tries to approach casually, failing.

“Beautiful—” he begins, then aborts mid-syllable. “Human lady— no. You. Hello. You.”

He stands fully upright, and suddenly the hallway feels smaller in comparison. He’s massive, yes, but it’s the warmth in his eyes that hits you, like catching sunlight on bare skin.

“Katon,” you say, grinning despite your best efforts, “breathe.”

He does. Loudly. Dramatically. As though you gave him permission to inhale for the first time all day.

“I wished to…” He pauses, gestures to himself. “Present myself. To you. Again. Properly.” Then, with reverence: “You look very nice today.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Yes,” he says, no hesitation at all. “Your hair is… curly.” He nods, pleased with this observation. “Very curly. It is good. It makes shapes.”

You bite back a smile. “Shapes?”

“Pleasing shapes,” he amends, cheeks heating in that not-technically-a-blush way of his.

“Thank you,” you say, leaning slightly closer without meaning to. “You look good too.”

He blinks. Once. Twice. Then he looks down at himself as if checking whether that could possibly be true.

“I do?” His voice drops an octave, surprise wrapped in something softer. “Truly?”

“Uh-huh,” you say, steady but warm, “you’re kind of cute.”

His breath catches.

You watch his hands curl and uncurl at his sides, like he’s physically restraining cosmic-level reactions. His whole chest seems to brighten, not literally glowing, but close.

“No one has ever…” He fumbles. “I mean, they have said things, but not…”

He gathers himself, squares his shoulders, and looks at you with a sincerity so intense it could bend steel.

“You think I am cute?”

He says it like you’ve handed him the moon.

You nod. “Yeah. I do.”

He looks as if he might ascend.

“I will attempt,” he says, voice hushed and full of wonder, “to be worthy of that.”

Before you can respond, he adds, softer but bolder than anything he’s said yet:

“And you are… far more than cute.”

His gaze lingers, warm and earnest and a little hungry in the most innocent way imaginable.

He’s awkward, sure. But he’s also very attractive, very sincere and extremely focused on you.

phenomaman masterlist a/n: this idea came to me bc i've been saying a leaf? for me? thank you all day and i thought it could be cute. haven't watched the movie and i'm lowk not planning to. i'm tired of 2025 gothic aesthetic

[myloumeti]

Jeez, how pathetic. (Flambae x male! reader smut)

A little blurb of an after-hours hand job in the SDN showers ;) (reader receiving) could be interpreted as Robert or Waterboy I guess?

"Jeez, how pathetic can you be?"

Flambae smirks down at your cowering form on the tile, slowly moving his hand up and down the length of your painfully-hard cock. A day full of teasing combined with a week worth of being pent-up had you extremely sensitive. His fingers teasingly splay out over the tip and precum webs between his fingers when his hand pulls away.

"I'm hardly touching you and you're already a mess like this? What'll you do when I finally fuck you?"

A whine escapes your throat and you lean back against the cold tile of the shower wall. Through the slits of your heavy eyelids, his form hovers over yours, caging you in. His eyes are alight with something predatory and hungry.

"please..." you mumble.

"What was that? I didn't quite hear you." His grin grows even wider as he leans closer until you're breathing the same hot, thick air.

"Please keep going... Touch me again..." His fingers grasp your cock again but stay perfectly still. Your brows knit together and your back arches away from the cold tile. The pressure has you pushing your hips closer in desperation for more.

"I don't know, can you handle it? I mean, look at yourself. You're about to cum just from that." Teeth gritting, you bark out a response.

"I can handle it! Just give it to me already, I can't take it anymore."

"Jeez. pathetic AND impatient," he punctuates with a roll of his eyes. "Just don't get anything on me. We both know you can't afford the dry-cleaning for this suit."

He lazily strokes your cock, slowing down even further whenever you get too vocal or tensed up. You push your face into the exposed skin of his shoulder to smother your moans. His touch balances you on the cusp of pleasure, just barely enough to keep you dazed. When you try to place your hand over his, he swats it away.

Lifting your head, you ask, "fuck- please can you go faster?" You know your answer before he even opens his mouth by the way his eyes narrow sharply.

"No. You'll take what I give you and be grateful I'm even touching your dick in the first place." Your mouth opens to respond, but he cuts you off.

"It feels good doesn't it? Don't get too greedy. Now tell me how good it feels."

"I-It feels so good. You're making me feel so fucking good I can't think."

"That's better." His grip tightens around your cock and his pace speeds up. A curse slips out of your mouth and your hips jerk, practically thrusting into his palm. You shove your face into his shoulder again, trying to dampen the increasing volume of noises coming from your mouth.

"You gonna cum or something?" You nod vigorously, unable to form the words.

"Then do it. Cum." Something snaps inside you and you're a whining mess, writhing against him to finally get relief. When you break apart from him, warm splotches of cum decorate your lower stomach.

"Nice going. At least you got it all over yourself this time instead of me. Now get cleaned up, you're coming to my place."

---

I've been obsessing over dispatch a bit the past week so if anyone wants to thirst over/ make small requests for Robert/Waterboy/Flambae in my inbox feel free. I write for male/gn/or female readers

[possumy]

Connor 😮‍💨

[neonbluehazardsign]

there’s a man in your apartment.

there’s a man in your apartment—mecha man, to be specific.

your window’s been hastily shoved open, and maybe it’s your fault for never locking it.

he’s unconscious, but you can see his chest rising and falling, his breathing shallow and ragged. he’s clearly taken damage—you can see the blood dripping from a gash on the side of his chest, his suit is torn and covered in more blood, and his skin is bruised heavily. something crunches when you try to turn him over to check for any more injuries, which…isn’t good.

you’re panicking a little. because while everything you’ve seen of him on the news has been favorable, you don’t know him. you don’t even know who he is under the mask. 

curiosity gets the best of you, and you hook your fingers under the fabric covering his face, pushing it up enough to see him.

messy, tousled brown hair fringes over one eye. his eyes are closed, but he looks…peaceful. he has freckles dusting his cheeks, sparse facial hair he probably forgot to completely shave on his jaw. his mouth is slightly open, and you can’t stop your eyes from flicking to his lips.

he’s—handsome. your face heats, and you push the mask back down. from the interviews, the tired way he spoke and how he carried himself, you assumed he was older. but this man is around your age. he could’ve been someone you saw everyday, someone you were friends with. 

you don’t know what compels you to grab the med kit, or what makes you want to help him. but he’s hurt. you have to pull his suit off—what remains of it, fingers brushing his skin as you work. stitching up the wounds on his chest, noting the old scars and mottled bruising there. he’s been through a lot, that much is clear.

the man doesn’t stir, but his lashes flutter as you wipe away blood and grime from his skin, and you could swear his fingers twitch. you redress him in spare clothes you have, patch his suit, and throw everything in the wash. you pass out on the couch opposite him, still keeping an eye open just in case.

when you wake, your apartment is quiet. the blood has been cleaned, the suit gone from where you left it folded on the table. there’s no sign of anyone being here except for the folded note taped to your chest.

thanks for the assist.

— R

below is a little doodle of a robot, and despite the situation, it makes you laugh. maybe…maybe you’ll meet him again.

[fi1iat3rra3]

sum; After meeting you, the new dispatcher, Robert's good intentions of being friends and pillars for each other become blurred, the lines falling apart when robert begins to think differently, making things awkward and leading to a new tension that needs to be solved.

content; some build-up, maybe slow burn? it happens over the span of a few months, Robert is a bit of a softie for the reader, Robert and reader get into an argument and have jealous moments, tension in the office, reader has an insecurity mentioned (teeth/smile), Robert has a wet dream, switch!robert, unprotected sex, Robert gets a little rough, but he's ultimately really sweet, fingering, multiple rounds, tummy bulge,

wc; 12.9k

a/n; ROBERT 😛😛😛 just started watching Jacksepticeye play Dispatch, and I'm in LOVEVEVEVEEEEE with everyone. im NOT done yet, only at like ep4, so bare with any details that might be found after ep4! Invisigal or Malevola possibly coming soon after this 😼

Since joining SDN, Robert was dedicated to fixing shit around the Z-Team. He didn't play around or let bullshit in the way. And he sure as hell didn't get distracted.

Until you came along. A new girl at SDN—a new dispatcher who happened to take the spot right across from him. For the first two weeks, you only talked to one person—Chase. Oddly enough. It was only odd because of how vulgar Chase was, and how you seemed so opposite of him, but you still got along great because Chase was a big help for you and your confusion around the office. He even helped you through your first panic attack during a shift when you freaked out about possibly being the reason that one of your heroes got hurt.

Chase helped you through the ropes, and slowly introduced you to Royd. Royd definitely freaked you out at first, but he was a big sweetheart. Once you got into the flow of things, Chase introduced you properly to Robert.

How did he do that?

By leaving you to watch Beef while Chase pretended to be busy while Robert went out for lunch on his break and you stayed at the office, eating with Beef on the floor. You literally sat on the floor, talking with the fat chihuahua like he was a person who could talk back. Just as you slipped him a piece of salami from your sandwich, Robert came back and did that dumb voice for Beef, almost personifying the dog.

"Oh, wow, that's some good salami, thanks, stranger!" His hand covered his mouth, like he was doing a bad ventriloquist act, and his voice sounded like a goblin from a cartoon. You turned, cheeks slightly flushed at being caught talking to a dog, but you couldn't help laughing at Robert, your hand covering your mouth.

"Is that supposed to be him?" You giggled, moving to stand, but Robert was already sitting down to join you, a small smile on his eternally tired face as he reached out to pet Beef's head.

"Mhmm. That's Beef. Tell her, Beef." Robert lifted his hand again, covering his mouth.

"That's me, miss, I'm Beef!" Robert did the weird voice again, watching you erupt with a fit of laughter, hand still hovering over your mouth.

"I do hope he doesn't actually sound like that."

"Aren't I handsome enough to sound a little silly?" The goofy imitation continued, but Robert gave it a break as he chuckled and let Beef scramble into his lap.

"Very handsome, little dog," you finally dropped your hand once your laughter eased, a softer smile on your lips as you reached to pet the dog.

"So.. I'm Robert." He finally spoke in his normal voice, holding a hand out. "I've seen you around. Chase has told me about your work so far." He said.

"Oh, that so..?" You hummed, taking his hand to shake it lightly, a bit shocked at the firmness of his grip and the calloused nature of his palms.

"Mhmm. We're all pretty impressed. You've done great so far. I'm still relatively new myself, only been here a few weeks more than you, but I still didn't do as good as you. Hell, my team is still a pain." Robert joked, huffing a bit.

"Yeah, Chase and Royd have told me." You nodded, glancing up at him. "Sorry I haven't talked to you. I feel a little bad because we sit across from each other—I-i don't mean to be impolite—"

"It's not impolite. I really don't mind." He chuckled. "You're not obligated to talk to some loser ex-hero like me. You're not even obligated to talk to Chase—which is why I'm a little shocked. You don't seem the type to be friends with someone so vulgar." He observed, head tilting.

"Well, he's nice. Looks like a grandpa, but he's definitely nicer than others. Uhm, also, you're not a loser. I don't think? I mean, I know I don't know you, but Chase talks pretty highly of you, Robert Robertson the Third." You giggled again, biting at your lower lip like you were holding back the possibility of showing an open mouthed smile.

"Oh, God, he told you my full name?"

"Yeah. He did." You nodded.

"Well, I guess the embarrassing stuff is out of the way. Now you're stuck here. Can't let you get out with that info." He joked, glancing up at you with a smile that made you feel weirdly at ease.

From the headset resting on your neck, you jolted at the sound of two heroes screaming at each other through the system.

"Fuck—sorry—I have to go, but it was so good to finally meet you! And Beef!" You quickly gave Beef one more excess piece of salami before you rushed off to your desk, turning your headset down as you checked on your heroes statuses.

Robert stayed on the floor for a moment, letting Beef eat the meat before the dog crawled off his lap and returned to his bed, flopping onto his side. Robert sighed as he stood, returning to his desk.

Running into him like that eased you into morning greetings, afternoon lunch breaks together, and evening goodbyes over the next month and a half. You weren't exactly known around the office, so when Robert invited you to come along with him and Royd to a work thing that you didn't even know about, you were... rather excited.

It was just a small celebration at a bar for a jump in improvement for the heroes being dispatched. Your heroes included. It was funny how you and your heroes were part of the praise, yet you hadn't known about the celebration. It was at a bar downtown, and you couldn't bring yourself to press for conversation with anyone. Not even Royd as he talked to one of the other people from the office whom you hadn't met.

"Got room for one more?" Robert asked, clinking his shot glass with your water glass as he slid into the booth next to you.

"Oh. Yeah, sure, I.. don't see why not." You said, scooting over to give him room.

"You enjoying your own company over here?" He asked, raising a brow.

"Not really. But I don't want to intrude on conversations. Everyone is having so much fun." You shrugged, both hands wrapped around your glass as you tapped your ring at the cup anxiously.

"Well, I'm intruding on your silence. Let's talk." He insisted, downing his shot and cringing slightly before he nudged the small glass away.

"About what?" You asked, laughing quietly at his expression of disgust at the sour shot.

"About you. About work. About anything. Unless you prefer we sit in silence."

"Well—I almost got punched by Invisigal. She's not even on my team." You muttered, huffing slightly as you glanced away.

"Yeah. She's on mine. Definitely a character, isn't she?" He murmured, lips pursing in thought. "Why'd she try to hit you?"

"Because I told her she didn't have a right to tell my team how to do anything when she was barely taken off the bottom of the leaderboard and she's hardly moved since." You murmured, shame sinking in.

"You said that? To Invisigal?" Robert's jaw was practically on the ground.

"She told one of the heroes in my call that he was going to 'fuck shit up for others' because he froze on a mission that they crossed paths on. She pissed me off."

"I mean, freezing could've caused a big issue." Robert murmured.

"But the one that froze was new to the team—new and afraid because I had sent him on the wrong mission. It wasn't his fault, and now Invisigal is pissed off at me because I told her she was a nosey cunt."

"Wo-hooah!" Robert laughed, straightening up. "You called her that?"

"I-i didn't mean to! It just came out! And I tried to apologize because I dont think she's truly that bad. She and I just got off on the wrong foot!" You insisted, turning to face Robert with a pleading look on your face, visibly still shaken from how mean you'd been to the hero you'd barely knew.

"Woah—okay, breathe. She's not actually gonna hurt you—well, she might—but I'll talk to her. Or you could. She's probably open to talking if you approach her right. Uh.. offer her some candy in the break room, maybe." Robert explained, chuckling at your distress.

"Candy? Like what? A chocolate or a gummy?"

"Mm.. she looks like she likes sour."

"Sour patch kids?"

"Definitely." Robert nodded, watching you deflate slightly as you looked at your water with a sigh.

"You wanna come with me to grab a drink?" He asked, gesturing for you to join him as he slid out of the booth.

"I don't drink often, it's probably not a good idea.."

"It's okay. You're in good hands, I promise."

There was a pause. A debate in your head.

You held your pinky out.

Robert blinked, looking at you like some alien life form being newly discovered.

"Pinky promise or it doesn't count." You said, more serious than Robert expected.

"You got it. I pinky promise that you're in good hands. If you get too drunk, I'll get you home safe." He promised, wrapping his pinky with yours and letting you squeeze until you nearly broke it, which is when you pulled back. He let you laugh at it, watching as you covered your mouth and got up from the booth.

"Yeesh, you've got quite a grip."

"I make everyone pinky promise. If they pull away from the grip, they're lying." You said. "You didn't pull away. So you're not lying."

"That seems a bit..."

"It works. I've tested it." You said confidently.

"I'm sure it does." He mused.

You two reached the bar, and he leaned over it as you mulled over your options. He gently tapped your hand to get your attention.

"Got an idea what you want?" He asked softly.

"Uhm... something weak and sweet, please. I don't know, I'm not good with picking drinks."

"I got you, it'll be good." He nodded, catching the bartender. He ordered himself a regular beer and got you a french martini. The name alone made you question his choices, but upon tasting, you were conflicted.

"Mm. It's.. interesting."

"Do you want something else?" He asked.

"No, no, this is good, it's just.. the pineapple is interesting with the vodka. It's just a strong flavor, and it's probably a bad combo, so I'll need something less acidic next." You took another sip, humming lightly before Robert ordered you something a little less sweet but with a little less liquor.

"Here, try this one," He said, holding the drink out to you. Instead of taking it, you leaned forward and let him tilt the drink back so you could take a sip. It was definitely a little out of the ordinary, but Robert wasn't complaining one bit.

"Mmh! I like that one. It's not as sweet, but it's less harsh on the throat."

Robert choked on his own snickering, to which you blushed faintly at your own wording. You turned your head and impulsively slammed the rest of the first drink in the blink of an eye, coughing at the attack of harsh flavor.

"Woah, hey, you don't gotta drink like that!" He reached out to place a hand on your shoulder, stopping you from taking the second drink.

"I'd rather get drunk at this point." You admitted.

"Well, let's see how that first drink settles, okay? Don't need you getting yourself sick." He said, keeping a hand on the other drink before he ordered you a glass of room temp water.

"Why's it warm?" You asked, raising a brow.

"It's room temp. It's not cold because the room temp water is better for your stomach and throat. Cold water sends a bit of a shock to your stomach, the temperature difference can cause indigestion, and cold water in general can increase the chance of sore throats." Robert rambled, watching as you steadily sipped on your water.

"Didn't know that. You're kinda smart." You hummed, a small smile stretching over your lips.

"Glad to be of service." He mused, staring at you with a slightly softened look as he watched you start to relax. He could see it in the way you didn't cover your smile when it got a little wider, the way you let your shoulders slump to ease the tension at the base of your neck.

The bar's noise became a soft buzz to you as you felt the alcohol settle, but you didn't mind the feeling yet, so you reached for the second, more preferred drink, and began to sip on it as Robert told you about some silly stories from the Z-Team. Just like back at the office, Robert did more talking than you, but he got a good amount of giggles from you, likely thanks to the alcohol that was just barely buzzing through you.

Soon, now on your third drink, you were focused on the music, so when the bar started playing one of your favorite bands, you swayed and tapped your finger to the music, humming as Robert kept you company with his conversation.

"You like the music?"

"Yeah. 's a good band. Heard it tons as a kid, never got rid of it." You muttered, idly chewing on the plastic straw you'd gotten for your drink. Robert reached out, tapping your jaw.

"Don't chew on that. It's not good for your teeth." He warned softly.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." You straightened up, setting the drink down as you blinked through some fuzzy blotches in your vision. "I'm.. uh... gonna run to the bathroom. I'll be back." You said, scrambling from your stool to stand up, only to stumble.

"Hey, don't get up so fast." Robert reached out to catch you, concern etching his eternally sleepy eyes as he stood to help keep you upright.

"I-i'm fine, don't you worry about me." You tried to play it off and take another step, but your body swayed. In your head, you were doing just fine, stepping in a perfectly normal fashion, but that wasn't the case. Robert caught you again.

"Okay, I'll take you to the bathroom, just.. don't collapse, please?" He sighed, helping guide you through the crowded bar to the bathroom. He felt awkward going into the women's bathroom, but he did promise to take care of you. When you made it in, Robert let you stumble into the stall to deal with your business. A woman walked out of a different stall, giving him an odd look.

"I, uh, I'm waiting for a friend. She's.. in the stall. I swear." He tried to explain, but she just left, mumbling about how 'men will lie about anything these days.' He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply.

"Roberrrt?" You called out from the stall, the sound of you stumbling making him worry.

"You okay in there?" He asked.

"'m okay, just had to make sure y'stayed." You muttered. Robert pinched his nose harder and hung his head low in shame as another group of women passed through.

"Yeah, I'm waiting. Don't worry." He spoke up, trying to ignore the way the girls stared holes into him as they fixed their makeup and washed their hands. Once you were done, you came out and shuffled to the sink. While you were washing your hands, the tallest woman leaned over and asked you a question, to which you looked offended.

"Does he look like he would ever do that to a woman?" You drunkenly snapped back, flicking the water from your hands at the woman's face. Robert jolted, grabbing napkins and taking your hands to dry them before he looked at the women.

"She's had a lot. She's a lightweight. Her sister will be taking her home now, don't worry." He lied, offering an apologetic look to the woman you'd splashed. He guided you out of the bathroom, only to erupt into laughter when you were far enough away.

"What so funny?" You asked, frowning up at him.

"Nothing. It was just really funny to see you splash a random woman without reason." He said, his hand at your upper back at he guided you back to the bar to get down some water.

"She asked if you were 'bothering me'." You frowned, slouching against the bar.

"Why does that matter?"

"Because she said it like you were gonna hurt me or somethin'." You looked at him, once again chewing at your plastic straw.

"Do you think I'd do that?" He asked, gently reaching out to take the straw from your teeth. A gentle reminder without criticism.

You pulled back from the cup, shaking your head. "You seem nice. Chase talks to me about how nice you are once a stranger gets past that hard head of yours."

"Chase said that?" Robert asked quietly.

"Yeaaahh," you drawled lazily, leaning your cheek into your palm as your elbow rested on the bar top.

"That's nice of him. He calls me a little fucker and a bitch more than he says my name." He scoffed, but it was a fond sound, despite the impression given by the nicknames he spoke of.

You stared at him, eyes lazily dragging along his features. His stubbled chin—he definitely hasn't shaved in a few days—his sleepy eyes, the brightness of his coppery irises, the dryness of his slightly pale lips, and that odd little chip in his right ear. You wondered what it was from.

"What? Is there something on my face? Am I bleeding?" Robert asked, and you really noticed how deep his voice was, how it rumbled in his chest.

"No. I just like looking at you." You mumbled honestly.

Robert blinked. "Oh. Well, thanks? I suppose," he looked off to the side, his cheeks tinting a faint shade of pink. He didn't often feel bashful like this, so it was a little odd for him.

"You've got a nice face. Good shape." You muttered.

"Okay. I think I should get you home now, mumbler." He stood slowly, reaching out to help you from your seat.

Your only form of protest was how you reached out and downed the last half of the abandoned third drink you'd gotten earlier. Robert groaned.

"Come on, you're already saying silly things." He sighed, guiding you back to your original booth to retrieve your purse and jacket from Royd who'd been sweet enough to hold them for you.

"She okay?" Royd asked, raising a brow as you leaned into Robert. Robert definitely wasn't used to a pretty girl leaning on him so comfortably.

"She's alright, just had too much to drink. I promised her I'd get her home safely. Uhm... do you... know where she lives?" Robert asked, his voice hushed in subtle embarrassment that he didn't ask before you were too drunk to tell him yourself.

"Nah, man, you on your own." Royd rumbled with a laugh, patting Robert on the back as he draped your jacket over your shoulders and gave Robert your purse. "Maybe check her ID. See if it on there." Royd said, gesturing into your purse.

Robert only nodded, sighing and thanking Royd before he helped you out of the bar. "I really don't wanna go through your purse." He murmured to himself, looking at your purse as he helped you sit on the curb, letting you relax into his side as he reluctantly searched for your wallet.

He found it, only to mentally slap himself. You lived way too far to walk. And his broke ass didn't have a car. But his apartment sucked. He had literally nothing in there. So what did he do? He decided to cough up the money for a cab, even though he knew it was probably a little suspicious looking. He was barely buzzed, but he'd had enough water to look and feel sober.

He gave the driver your address before he took off. It was a quiet, awkward ride, filled in occasionally with your mumbles about how warm Robert felt like this. Robert wondered how often you let loose like this, and how often you really felt safe enough to let yourself fall into the hands of someone you still only knew so much. But he was honored that you trusted him.

Arriving at your apartment building, he handed the driver whatever was left in his wallet that barely covered the ride and a small tip. He helped you out of the car, thanking the driver before he looked at your wobbly legs. He hummed.

"Is it alright if I carry you? I don't want you tripping.." he asked quietly, brushing your hair from your face.

"Tha's fine, Robert," you muttered, straightening your posture. You felt steady enough, but with the way he dove in you catch you again, you were losing confidence in your balance. Robert hoisted you into his arms, carrying you princess style as he headed into the building. He found your keys in your purse, and luckily, your key had your apartment number engraved in it.

"Almost there, miss mumbles." He muttered, mentally cursing the elevator for not working. He got to the third floor when he finally reached your door. He unlocked both locks and carried you in, looking around in the dimly lit living room.

"'M home?" You looked around, squinting at the darkness.

"Hang on, looking for a light." Robert said, hand blindly pressing around the wall for a switch. When he found the switch, he flicked it up and let his eyes adjust to the brightness before he carried you over to the couch.

"You brought me home." You smiled sweetly at Robert, watching as he took your jacket to hang it up before he covered you with a blanket.

"Of course I did. I made a pinky promise, didn't I?"

"You did!" You giggled, smiling wider before you grabbed Robert by his cheeks.

"Wait—fuck—don't do—" Robert panicked, but he immediately shut up when you kissed the corner of his eye. He sighed in relief. It was still kinda not a good idea, but it was better than you kissing him properly.

"You've been so nice to me." You slurred lightly, hands dropping to your lap as Robert gently tugged the blanket around you, making sure you were warm and comfortable. He kneeled, reaching down to remove your shoes before he set them at the side of the couch.

"Just keeping a pretty lady safe. I used to be a hero, yknow? It's in my blood." He joked, sitting on the floor in front of you.

"Which hero were you?" You asked, leaning forward to look closer at him.

"Uh.. I'm not sure it's a good idea to say. It's kinda... embarrassing, I guess." He shook his head.

"Tha's okay." You shrugged, already moving to lie down as your eyes closed.

"Hey, do you want anything before I leave?" He asked, reaching out to gently get your hair out of your face.

"You're leaving?" You opened your eyes to look at him, frowning like a kicked puppy.

"I.. thought it'd be best. I don't think it's right for me to stay at your place like this. It feels like an intrusion." He explained quietly.

"I don't mind, Robbieee," you shifted closer, hoping to get him to stay as you reached toward him.

"Uh.. I.. suppose.." he swallowed lightly. He didn't want to leave you on the couch either way, so he stood up. "Where's your room?" He asked, lifting you up with a small huff as he cradled your head against his shoulder.

"Mmh.. right." You said, lazily gesturing down the hall. The apartment was small enough to where there was only 3 options, and one was on the right. So he headed to your room and carried you in, flicking the light on as he laid you on the bed.

"You comfy?" He asked, pulling your blanket over your body to let you get comfortable.

"Thank you." You mumbled, eyes already falling shut. He could tell that you needed a night like this.

What made him hesitate was when you reached out and took his hand. "Sit with me?" You blurted, squinting up at him. He didn't know if this was okay. Your clingy drunken state was definitely a shock to him.

He gave in, sitting down at the side of your bed as he let you hold his hand close to your chest, eyes falling shut once more. "Goodnight. I'll stay." He whispered, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles.

Thanks to the alcohol, and his company, you were asleep like a baby in less than ten minutes.

Robert waited about half an hour before he gently removed himself from your grasp, returning to the living room. He plopped himself onto your couch, sighing as he relaxed, kicking his shoes off finally. The couch was shockingly comfortable, so he was also asleep pretty fast, which was uncommon.

The next morning, Robert was shaken awake by the sound of vomiting. He slipped on the hardwood as he scrambled to the bathroom to find it wide open, you holding your own hair back to avoid getting vomit in your hair.

"Shit. Fuck." He hissed at the sight, kneeling beside you as you coughed and spit into the toilet before you fell back against your tub and closed the toilet to flush it. Robert reached for a rag and wet it in the sink before he brought it to your mouth, wiping gently before he folded the yuck to the inside of the rag.

"Sorry. I know this is so gross." You rasped lightly, throat hurt from the intensity of throwing up.

"I've seen worse. Much worse." He said, shaking his head before he looked around. He found a hair tie and reached around to tie your hair back. "You want some water? Crackers? Uh.. bread?" He asked, unsure of what your usual hangover throw up cure was.

"No. I'm okay. You.. really don't have to be here. I don't even know why you stayed." You gave a small laugh, sniffling slightly as you curled up on the floor, back against the tub.

"I stayed because you asked me to. And I promised I'd keep you safe. Safety also includes comfort." He said simply, shrugging a bit.

"I.. really appreciate it, but I'm not drunk now. I'm sure you have better things to do on your day off."

"Not really. But I'll go if you want me to." He said honestly.

"I think that's best. I already don't remember a lot of how I embarrassed myself last night." You laughed quietly, a sad, anxious sound.

"Then I'll go. But if you need me, I left a note on your dresser. Or, yknow, just come find me at work. I'm not picky." He slowly stood up, grunting at the soreness in his back.

"I really appreciate you following through with your promise. As much of a mess as I feel like, I really needed to just... be a little stupid for once." You looked up at him.

He gave a small thumbs up. "Anytime, miss mumbles." And with that, he walked out, returning to get his shoes. But while you were busy still recovering in the bathroom, Robert took it upon himself to find you a bottle of water and some crackers from your pantry, laying it out on your counter for easy access.

Your morning was spent nursing yourself before you found the note on your dresser, staring down at it. You sighed, flipping it over. You felt like an idiot. You didn't think Robert would dare to use it against you, but you knew you were a clingy and touchy drunk. Not inappropriately, but affectionate to the point that you worried if Robert was contemplating an HR report. You decided it was smart to just go about your day. You threw away the note, banishing it from your mind as you cleaned your apartment and powered through your headache and regret.

Five days you'd avoided Robert. You skipped out on your usual lunch break, insisting that Blonde Blazer had given you some extra work to help out the SDN. You hardly even gave him a wave and a nod as you passed his desk to sit at yours.

Robert, on the other hand, tried to keep things normal. He'd come to your desk during breaks, only to be shut down with a half-assed apology. He'd try to walk alongside you in the mornings, but he'd be left behind when you'd apologize and say, 'sorry, gotta run to catch Chase in the records room!' or 'i have to stop by the restroom, i'll catch you later.'

He was getting tired of it. So what did he do? He convinced Invisigal spy on you. Probably a bit of a weird thing, maybe a violation of privacy, but he wasn't getting any answers from you or Chase. He knew it seemed weird, considering he'd only known you for just under two months, but after the other night, he wasn't about to let you avoid him over some silly drunken behavior.

"Royd, I really don't wanna talk about it." You said, arms crossing as Royd ran into you in the break room and asked about what happened when Robert took you home.

"'Ey, what happen? He put his hands on you, or some?" Royd asked, accent prominent as ever as his mind snapped to the worst case scenario.

"Woah! No, no, he's.. too nice to do that. It was just embarrassing. I get clingy when I'm drunk, and Robert was being super sweet, and I think.. I think I remember trying to kiss him? But I kissed his eyebrow? But then he took me to bed and let me hold his hand while I fell asleep, and then the next morning, I was throwing up every bit of solid food I'd eaten in the last 24 hours, and then Robert tried to stay to help me, and he didn't even care that I smelled like vomit and alcohol and I was still in my work clothes from the day before." You rambled quickly, words coming out at 50 miles per minute, brows furrowing before you turned away and hit your head against the vending machine. "He's so nice to me. Even though he curses like a sailor and has such a mean sounding voice and he looks so tired all the time."

"You got it bad for him, girl." Royd chuckled, handing you a cup of coffee.

"Wha—no I don't!" You perked up, looking up at Royd with flushed cheeks.

"Why do you care so much then?" He asked, crossing his arms after you took the coffee.

"I.. I care because... h-he could make a complaint! I tried to kiss him! He saw me in a way that a coworker shouldn't see another coworker!" You complained.

Before Royd could ask more about your situation, Invisigal lost her breath and knocked a chair over as she tripped trying to run out of the break room. You stared at her as she ran out, eyes wide.

"Oh, I'm so screwed." You whined, falling back against the vending machine and sliding down to sit on the floor.

"Ay, you'll be jus' fine. Robert ain't gonna file nothin'." Royd reassured, patting your shoulder before he checked his watch. "I gotta go, but let me know what goes, yeah?" He said, offering that teddy bear smile of his before he left.

When you were alone, you just sat there, sighing at yourself as you waited for your watch to beep for your break to be over. And just what you needed least—Robert walked in—the damn guy was practically summoned. You didn't bother moving. Invisigal had 100% already told him, and you could tell by the way he sat on the floor with you.

"I'll report myself to HR. No need to have that talk with me." You mumbled.

"Well, miss mumbles, I actually came to clear you of your worries." Robert shrugged. "But if you'd rather go to HR and tell them a lie, go for it." He joked.

"A lie?" You looked at him, confused.

"You didn't try to kiss me. You'd only kissed right here," he pointed to the corner of his eye. "and it was you saying thank you for me keeping my promise. I'm not upset about it. You were merely expressing gratitude, and although you scared me shitless when you yanked my face, I'm not bothered."

"You... don't care? That I kissed your eye and wouldn't let you leave my side like some sickly child?"

"You didn't force me to stay. I stayed because I liked the company, and it.. it was nice to see that side of you. I know we haven't known each other very long, but.. even though you were drunk, seeing you relax and not hide your smile was pretty cool." He reassured, leaning his head back to look at you.

"Oh, now I really might let Waterboy drown me."

"Wha—wait, why? Was that wrong to say?"

"No, not wrong, it's just..." You groaned, hands covering your face. "I don't like my smile, Robert. It's.. off, unless it's practiced." You muttered.

"I think it's cool. It's your own. It's you." Robert said bluntly, shifting to sit closer to you.

"You're just saying that."

"I promise—" He held his pinky out, a callback to the other night. "I promise that I mean it."

You stared at him, visibly stunned at the sweet reassurance. "You.. also remembered that." You looked down at his hand, a little embarrassed that he remembered one of your most childish habits.

"Well? Come on, mumbles," he wiggled his pinky at you. You stifled a snicker, reaching to accept the pinky promise. You both squeezed this time, and neither of you pulled away until Waterboy stumbled in, making you both stiffen.

"I-im sorry—apologies—I didn't mean to—didn't mean.." Waterboy stammered, only to watch Robert chuckle as you both stood up.

"It's alright, Waterboy. We have to get back to work, anyway." Robert said, letting you walk out first before he followed behind. Waterboy waved you two off, smiling apologetically at you two.

Things returned to normal. You stopped avoiding Robert, Robert eased up on being nosey, and you two resumed your work friend routine. Your fourth month hit, and by then, you'd become accustomed to having Friday nights with Robert to unwind, and Saturday to run errands together. Robert proposed the idea, secretly to feel a little less lonely, but he told you it was because 'Beef liked you and needed time outside of home and work,'

Tonight was one of those Fridays, and it was Roberts turn to make dinner, so you were relaxing on the couch, Beef sitting in your lap as you read some book you'd recently bought. The consistency of your weekly nights spent together made it feel like you were part time roommates, and you were a little shocked that Robert didn't move in by now.

"Hey, would you clear the coffee table for me?" He called from the kitchen, adding the final touches to his simple meal—just a nice beef stir fry with white rice.

"On it, Robs," you gave a thumbs up in his direction before you gently lifted Beef off of your lap, setting him at your side before you cleared the coffee table of your books and laptop. Robert came over with two plates, setting them down. He retreated, only to come back with four glasses—two glasses of water and two shots, and tucked under his arm was some vodka he'd been given by Chase.

"Dinner is served. Don't be afraid to send compliments to the chef, I quite enjoy the praise." He joked, sitting next to you as he handed you the shot glass.

"Really? You want to take shots?" You snickered.

"Come on, it's been a long week. You're stressed, I'm stressed—at least I'm not going to clubs and getting into fights." He huffed, setting your water down.

"I think I'll pass on the shots tonight. But help yourself." You shrugged, waving him off before he shamelessly downed both shots. He cringed after each one, but clearly had no regret.

"So, what's on the agenda for tonight? Dinner and TV? Card game? Uh... take Beef for a late night walk?" He asked, listing off lazy ideas before he leaned forward to take a bite off his plate.

"Mmh, I don't know. I need a shower tonight, so you'll be left alone for a bit. I also need to fold my laundry. And I should probably also do my dishes." You listed off your chores, bringing your plate to your lap as you took a bite of the food, humming in satisfaction.

"It's good, no?" He mused, mouth full with rice and broccoli.

"Really good." You returned the mouthful talk, nodding happily.

"Bet you didn't think a loser like me could cook so damn good." He joked, nudging your elbow with his.

"You're not a loser, Robert. You're just a doof." You smiled subconsciously, patting his leg as you paid attention to the food.

"Oh, that's so much better." He rolled his eyes. You plucked a piece of meat off of your plate and helped Beef onto the floor before you gave the dog the meat.

"That's cannibalism." Robert said plainly.

"Eh, he doesn't seem to mind. Beef likes beef." You laughed, watching the dog enjoy the small bit of treat he'd get whenever you had meat around him.

"You spoil him." Robert shook his head, feigning disapproval.

"Shut up and eat." You waved him off, handing Beef another piece of meat before you focused on eating your own food. Robert did the same, letting the silence ease between you two just like every other Friday.

Robert offered to deal with the dishes while you showered. From the bathroom, Robert heard you call for him, to which he was confused by.

"What's up?" He called back, listening through the bathroom door.

"Come in real quick!" You shouted.

Robert hesitated. He knew the glass of your shower door was frosted, and it hid details, and the steam probably barely let anything stay visible, but he kept his eyes closed as he entered.

"You need something?" He asked, a hand clamped over his eyes.

"Yeah, would you run to my room and grab me the new tube of face wash? It's blue, it's right next to my moisturizer." You spoke over the loud stream of water, peeking out from the crack you had in the door opening. He nodded.

"On it," he gave a thumbs up, turning around. When he turned around, he opened his eyes and stepped out. He left the door cracked as he retrieved the face wash from your dresser before he brought it back to you, eyes still clamped shut.

"Robert, you don't need to close your eyes. You can't see anything." You said bluntly, laughing at his refusal to look.

"Eh, I'm good to be blind for a minute." He said, unwilling to admit that if he saw you behind that foggy glass, he'd definitely lose his mind.

"Okay, well, thanks." You took the wash from him, and he left.

He rushed back to the living room and downed a couple more shots, groaning as he tried to wipe the perverted thoughts from his head. You were so careless around him, and he couldn't tell if that was a sign of trust and he should be appreciative or if he was going to really give a cause for an HR complaint.

Beef crawled into his lap, licking at his arm. "Ugh, she's gonna kill me, Beef." Robert sighed.

When he heard you emerge from the shower, he remained on the couch, waiting for you to return. Once you were dressed, you came to get him.

"You wanna stay here, or do you wanna sit with me while I do my laundry?" You asked. Robert turned, only to be momentarily stunned. He blinked.

You stood, leaning against the couch with a tight tank top and a pair of loose sweats that hung low on your hips. The cherry on top? He could see that you weren't wearing a bra—breast heavy and practically waiting, nipples faintly pressing into your tank top—, and much to his dismay, the sight had blood rushing down south.

"Uh.. I think I'm good out here. Probably gonna watch some... TV, I guess. Beef is already laying down." He gave a poor excuse, gesturing down to the dog in his lap that 'prevented' him from getting up.

"Okay, I'll be down the hall." You said, giving a thumbs up before you disappeared into your room. Robert was so fucked.

The vodka buzzed through him, and he sighed as he laid down, Beef still in his lap as he laid an arm over his eyes to shield them from the light. He yawned, relaxing into the couch.

Robert grunted, lower lip tucked between his teeth as he rutted his hips. His hands grasped onto the hips of the figure beneath him, the darkness consuming her features. "Fuckin' perfect. S-so good.. Fuck—fuck!" He hissed, nails digging into the skin of whoever was beneath him. He couldn't see her face, couldn't hear her words properly, but he could feel how good she felt. How good it felt to sink into the soaked warmth of her pussy, his hands roaming up her body to grope at her breasts. How good it felt to have her pull him in closer as his hips started to lose rhythm, keeping him deep inside of her as he choked on his own whimpers, cock twitching against her cervix as he spilled his cum into her. When he lifted his head from her shoulder, his eyes focused on her, hoping to praise her and thank her, the light hit her features finally. It was you. Gorgeous features looking up at him, dazed and satisfied, and even offering him that honest grin that you'd reserved just for him.

Robert woke with a jolt, sweat soaking into his t-shirt as he looked down at himself. He was hard. Like, damn near painful.

"Oh, shit." He cursed, a hand raking through his toasty brown hair as he yanked the blanket off and went to the bathroom.

You heard his frantic steps, making you stir from your slumber. The sun blinded you as you sat upright, eyes peeling open to get out of bed and see what Robert was doing up so early.

"Robs?" You called sleepily, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Shit—" He whispered. "Uh—yeah? What's up?" He cleared his throat.

"Y'alright?" You asked. "You sounded a little frantic." You muttered, barely audible to Robert.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Just... really had to go. Yknow how it is." He lied, swallowing harshly.

This was so wrong. So, so wrong. He had to will away his boner somehow because there was no way he was about to jerk off in your bathroom. So what did he do? He sat there. For half an hour. Pretending to be busy.

Until he finally willed away his boner. The issue now? Not picturing you underneath him. Because the moment he stepped out of the bathroom and found you draped over the couch, having fallen back asleep waiting for him, he had literal flashbacks to his dream.

Things were so good between you two! You were so close, he was so close to telling you more about his past regarding Mecha Man, and now he ruined it by his stupid wet dream.

He mentally berated himself, but he decided to let you sleep as he found himself something to eat. Just some cereal. He was beyond aggravated with himself, so to distract himself, he read the cereal box and chewed lazily.

"Robert?" You sat upright, squinting at him from the couch as you watched him glaring at the cereal box like it was the reason his dad died.

"Hm?" He perked up, looking over at you with wide eyes, cheeks full of cereal as he was in the middle of chewing.

"Make me a bowl?" You asked sleepily, eyes hardly even open as your head dropped against the back of the couch. Robert nodded. He made you a bowl of your favorite cereal before he brought it over to you, holding it in front of you as you took a bite and dropped the spoon back into the bowl.

"Tastes good?" He asked.

"Mhm. Sweet." You muttered, eyes still puffy from sleep as they remained faintly cracked open.

"You wanna take Beef with us when we go to the store later?"

"Mmh.. sure. You know where his leash is?"

"It's hung up in the hall closet."

"'Kay." You nodded, yawning loudly before you curled up on the couch and wrapped yourself in the blanket.

"Your cereal will get soggy, sleepyhead."

"Feed me," you mumbled, fully meant as a joke, but when you felt Robert press the spoon to your mouth, you opened your eyes fully and stared at him.

"Choo-choo." He said, his voice comedically monotone.

"I like whatever is wrong with you." You reached out and took the bowl and spoon from him, yawning one more time before you started to eat your cereal. Robert stood, returning to the kitchen to finish his own cereal.

Throughout the rest of the day, Robert was as tense as ever. It was like he was being puppeteered by a child who didn't know how to make the puppets have steady motions. He wouldn't stand too close, he wouldn't sit too close, he'd avoid making his usual flirtatious jokes, and he'd always seem to get a little warm in his cheeks when you'd lean too close.

You chalked it up to some bad sleep. You knew your couch wasn't always ideal, so you didn't bother to investigate further. Until you two went back to work on Monday, and Robert seemed like he couldn't be bothered with looking away from you across the office.

Talking with Chase, he had his gaze glued to you as you left the break room. You waved at him, offering your practiced smile before you went to your desk, only to stand up and peek over the wall that separated your desks.

"Robs, there's a new taco place down the street, do you wanna check it out for lunch?" You asked, chin propped on the wall.

"Mmh.. I-i have... lunch plans with Blonde Blazer. She said she needed to talk to me about my team." Robert lied, and at the mention of having lunch with Blonde Blazer, you seemed to deflate.

"That's okay, I'll take someone else." You waved it off, sitting back in your seat and staring at the computer like it'd offended you. Blonde Blazer was awesome, you knew she was, but something like jealousy burned in your chest, and you didn't understand why.

The next instance that week that made you jealous was seeing Invisigal walk so close to him in the office, giving him the kind of look that made you think she was undressing him with her eyes. The jealousy bubbled, and you felt like an asshole for being so jealous when you had no right to be jealous and protective of a man that you weren't romantically involved with.

It happened for a week straight before you took it upon yourself to try and distract yourself with someone else. Lucky for you, Waterboy was always willing to sit with you when he was in the office with time to spare.

Today, it was Robert who was pissed off. Jealous and pissy, staring at you as Royd tried to tell him something that Robert wasn't processing. He stared at you as Waterboy sat across from you, his gloved hands fidgeting anxiously as he sputtered about how he was so appreciative to you for sitting with him during lunch because you were usually so glued to Robert. Robert was snapped out of it when Royd tapped his shoulder, a brow raised.

"What?" Robert snapped unintentionally.

"Yeesh, you sound cranky." Royd frowned faintly.

Robert sighed, realizing his error. He set his coffee down. "Sorry. I'm not mad at you."

"Then who are you mad at?" Royd asked.

"I'm—no, I'm not mad, I'm just... a little frustrated. That's all. Maybe I just need to blow off some steam, or something, I don't know." He raked a hand through his hair, eyes falling shut.

"Maybe you should go home early. It's not good to be angry at everything around you. I'm sure Miss Blazer could find a replacement for you. We can't have you makin' bad choices for the team." Royd suggested, to which Robert shrugged.

"Sure. Maybe I'll check on that." He muttered.

"I'll catch you later, man." Royd gave a quick bump of his fist to Robert's shoulder before he walked off. Robert turned, looking at you and Waterboy.

Your back was turned to him, Waterboy across from you. Robert wasn't angry at Waterboy—he knew damn well Waterboy had no intention of having a thing for you—but boy, was he increasingly frustrated with you as you seemed to giggle and relax so freely with the hero. Without a word, Robert stormed off, grumbling about something you couldn't hear.

You jolted as the door slammed shut, and with that, Waterboy tensed. "I-i think—Robert isn't h-happ—he's upset—about s-something?"

"Yeah, I wonder what." You mumbled, picking at your food before you looked at Waterboy. "You okay if I run to check on him?" You asked.

"O-of course—sure," he nodded, gesturing for you to go and do what you needed.

"Thanks. I'll see you later." You gave him a quick wave as you shuffled to leave the room and go find Robert.

You found Robert back at his desk, and with him focused on his computer, you snuck up to lean against the edge of his desk. He swallowed harshly as his gaze flicked to your hips—another callback to his stupid dream that started all of his weird behavior. He looked up at you, brows furrowed subconsciously.

"Can I help you?" He asked, his voice rougher than usual.

"Actually, yes. You can start by telling me what's got you so pissed off." You said bluntly, arms crossed over your chest.

"I don't think you care as much as you're trying to." He scoffed faintly, looking back at his computer as he reached for his headset. You grabbed the headset, brows knitting together.

"Excuse me? You're the one who started ignoring me all week. Don't act like you didn't start avoiding me all of a sudden."

"I—mmm." Robert's mouth fell shut, knowing you were right.

"So, spit it out. Why are you ignoring me? And why are you so pissed off?"

"I'm not discussing this here." He said plainly, taking the headset back from you.

"Then you'll come over and you'll talk tonight."

"It's not Friday."

"You're coming over." You said firmly.

"And how are you going to make me?"

"You're coming over because I'm tired of you ignoring me and making me jealous because you've got chicks all over you in this damn office." You blurted out. "We're going to talk, whether you like it or not."

"Jealous? I'm not doing anything—"

"Yes, you are. You're ignoring me and you've got either Miss Blazer or Visi glued to you, and it's fucking infuriating, and I have no clue why." You snapped at him, keeping your voice as low as possible.

"Why don't you two fuckers get the fuck back to work and have your angry sex later?" Chase snapped over the cubicle wall, making both of you tense and blush wildly.

"Fuck off, Chase." Robert grumbled, turning away as you walked off to your desk.

Later that night, Robert found himself standing outside your apartment, without beef—who he left with Chase—, stuck on deciding whether or not he could be alone with you and not act like a damn fool.

His hand moved before he could think better, so he knocked louder than necessary, sighing lightly as he looked down at himself, fixing his shirt and adjusting his belt.

You opened the door just as his hands went to adjust his belt, and you paused. "You already taking your clothes off? Wow, maybe angry sex is the solution." You joked, arms crossed as you stepped aside to let him in.

"I'm not getting naked, and no, angry sex isn't the solution." He grumbled back, cheeks flushed as he stepped in and took his shoes off, shutting the door behind him before he looked at you.

"You sure? Or are you just saying that because you've got so many other girls to keep your dick wet?"

"Are you still on that? Why in gods name would I intentionally make you jealous?" Robert grumbled.

"I don't know! But you're doing it!" You frowned, padding over to the kitchen to grab two bottles of water.

"You think I'm so petty to go as far to ignore you and make you jealous?"

"Well, you've been ignoring me since we had dinner last time, and you've refused to be alone with me, to the point where you cancelled our last Friday hang out. So forgive me if I'm a little hurt by you randomly disappearing from my life when you pushed into it to begin with." You threw the bottle at him—harder than intended—and Robert caught it with a frown as you turned away to distract yourself to avoid staring at him.

"I've been ignoring you because I had a dream that we fucked." He admitted bluntly, tossing the bottle off to the couch as he stepped closer to you.

"You—what?!" You turned, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

"I had a dream." He repeated. "That we had sex."

"So you ignored me and startde canceling our routines and refusing to talk for more than two sentences? Come on, I know I ignored you after I got drunk that one time, but this lasted twice as long as that!"

"So, you're telling me, you'd rather know that I want to have sex with you?"

"Yes. I don't care how awkward it is. You're part of my life, and at this point, I'm starting to think that I might want more because a normal friendship doesn't involve the kind of jealousy that you pulled out of me." You blurted out, watching Robert's eyes go slightly wider.

"You what?" His voice came out quieter, almost softer.

"I'm starting to think that I want more out of this because you're a really good guy and I don't think a normal friend should be jealous if she sees her guy friend with another girl." You said, stepping closer to him.

"So, you want more. I want sex. I want you." Robert mumbled.

"Now what?"

"Do we fuck now, date later, or do we date now and fuck later?"

Both of you paused.

Fuck or have a nice dinner.

Robert wasn't standing that close, but he was close enough to see your breath hitch at his suggestions.

"I'd say dinner would be a great start.." you trailed off.

"But?" He prompted.

"But I don't think either of us will sit still that long like normal with our new... discoveries." You exhaled shakily as Robert stepped closer.

"I don't think so." He agreed quietly. "Maybe it's about time reenact that dream I had. Help you realize that I couldn't care less about the other women at work who you're so worked up about."

"I'm not worked u—"

Robert's lips were on yours in the blink of an eye, causing you to stumble back into the counter. His hands found your hips, lifting you onto the counter like you weighed nothing. Shocking, for a guy as small as him. He slotted himself between your legs, tugging you into him as your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his hips.

"Fuck—ow!" He hissed, yanking back as he felt you bite at his tongue when he tried to lick at your lower lip.

"What? You're not into biting?"

"Not biting my tongue," He grumbled, only to lean back in and press his lips to yours, trailing down toward your jawline and neck.

"So, you're into biting anywhere else?" You mused.

"Don't bite my dick." He said bluntly, only to nip at your collarbone as he reached to grab at the hem of your tank top.

"You think my mouth is going anywhere near your dick?" You joked faintly.

"I mean, if we're gonna really get into the dream, I'm hoping it will." He admitted, all shame tossed out the window. You went to speak, but he cut you off when he pulled back and took it upon himself to remove your top, tossing it somewhere in the kitchen. Neither of you cared to find out where.

"You're so fucking gross. Having a wet dream about your coworker." You huffed, letting him yank you closer as he slammed his lips to yours again—all teeth and tongue—like he'd die if he didn't get to keep his lips on you at all times.

"And you're letting me touch you. You're not much better." He argued, only to shut up when he felt you tug at his hair.

"Shut up and focus before I decide to change my mind." You threatened, and it worked, because he was already working on getting rid of his belt and tossing it aside before he lifted you to hold onto him as he rushed toward your bedroom. He kicked the door shut, pressing your back against the wall as he blindly reached for the light switch. Robert adjusted your position so he could press his bulge against you, eliciting a small gasp from you as he rolled his hips against yours. You tugged at his hair again, his head dropping to your shoulder as he bucked his hips.

"Fuck—shit, don't do that." He panted lightly, his hot breath fanning over your neck. You couldn't help but laugh quietly, the sound melting into a soft moan as you felt him grab your hips to grind you down into him.

"Don't tell me you're going to cum before you've even touched me." You huffed lightly, watching him lift his head as he panted, hips still pressed firm between yours.

"I wouldn't cum before you." He said confidently.

"Why don't you show me how you did that in your dream?" You leaned in and kissed him.

"Yes, ma'am." He muttered, carrying you over to the bed and laying you down before he settled between your thighs and went straight to kiss between your bra-clad breasts, his hands resting at the sides of your ribcage.

He reached under you, unclipping the band of the bra before he gently peeled it away and tossed it onto the floor before he dove back in, lips latching onto your nipple as his right hand moved to undo the button and zipper of your jeans. He looked up at you, a little discouraged by your lack of reaction despite how he could feel your breath hitch as your heart raced.

Deciding it was best to move on, he lifted his head to kiss you—softer, slower—his hands sliding your pants and panties down as he moved out of the way to let you kick them off. Once you were left fully revealed to him, completely exposed, he pulled back and looked down at you.

His staring made you feel a little awkward, so you looked off to the side and shifted around anxiously. "You look just like I dreamt of." He muttered finally, breath shuddering faintly as he reached down to spread your legs for him.

"You stare a lot." You observed.

"Only at you." He kissed you softly, letting one hand slide between your thighs before his fingers came in contact with your trimmed bush.

"Don't get sappy. This is supposed to be like your dream."

"This is better." He scoffed faintly, sliding his fingers down to your hole before he slid them back up between your folds, watching you shiver and whine slightly at the feeling of his cold fingertips sliding between your warm pussy lips.

"Jesus, your hands are so cold, Robs," you complained, a soft whine.

"Don't worry, they'll get warmer." He hummed, sitting upright between your thighs as he pressed his fingertip to your clit, pressing in a slow, experimental back and forth motion. You gasped lightly, body jolting at the sensation.

He switched his hands position to press his thumb against the nub, his fingers sliding back down to prod at the wetness of your hole. Before you processed the slow motions, he slid two fingers inside, watching closely as your body tensed, hands clutching at the sheets, jaw dropping slightly with a soft moan spilling from your lips. He kept his thumb nudged against your clit, his fingers pressing back and forth inside of you as he felt around for that sweet spot. It took him a second, but with the proper curl of his fingers, he had your thighs instinctively trying to shut around his hand. He used his free hand to keep one leg pressed into the mattress, staring down at you.

"Keep 'em open." He said, shifting closer and increasing the speed of his fingers.

"Fuck—oh, jesus—" you moaned, hips jolting away as you felt him press a third finger into your pussy, the stretch easing into a pleasurable burn.

"You still feel good?" He asked, a small groan leaving his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers, the sensation causing a rush of blood down to his cock, making it damn near painful to be untouched like this.

"F-feels good, mhmm." You nodded, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as your head fell back. Robert took his hand away from your thigh, using his knee to keep your leg from lifting to close as he brought his now free hand to find your clit, providing more focus on the bundle of nerves as he focused on letting his fingers stimulate the sweet spot he'd been abusing since he found it.

"That the right spot?" He asked, tilting his head at you.

You nodded, eyes rolling back as your eyes fluttered shut and you fully surrendered to the pleasure, letting Robert eat up every moan and gasp that you gave him, feeding his stupid ego. He leaned over you again.

"Move your hand, baby. Move it." He said quietly, voice soft and gentle, a contrast to the rough stimulation he was providing to encourage your pleasure. You moved your hand, looking up at him with your lips parted. Robert smirked lightly, enjoying how easily you gave into his soft demands.

He leaned in, lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss that you could barely return steadily. Your arms lifted to wrap around his neck again, keeping him close to you as he felt the tension in your lower belly become hotter and tighter, back arching into him. Your chest pressed against his, and he groaned at the feeling.

"Robert—Robs, oh!—'m gonna cum," you whimpered into the kiss. His only response was doubling his efforts and deepening the kiss, his hands focused with a kind of precision that almost made you wonder if Robert got more pussy than he looked like he did. You bit at his lower lip, a soft cry of pleasure leaving your throat as you dug your nails into his shoulders and pulled him as close as he could come, hips bucking impatiently against his hands. He felt you gush around the his fingers, his effort staying steady as he leaned down to kiss at your neck, letting you breathe as you slowly began to shift away, a nearly incoherent plea for a break making Robert slow his movements as he soothed you with soft kisses along your collarbone and neck. He retracted his hands, and without an ounce of shame, he held eye contact with you as he lifted his hand to lick his fingers clean.

Before he could even make a comment on how you'd lost your attitude just from a little amatuer fingering, he was flipped over onto his back. He grunted lightly as his back hit the bed, looking up at you like you'd just revealed some dirty secret.

"Don't give me that look." you panted slightly, still dazed from your first orgasm of the night,

"Would you rather me look at your tits?" He asked, eyes flitting down to your breasts as you straddled his hips and planted yourself firm against his untouched boner. "Oh—shit," Robert stuttered, his cock twitching in his pants at the sensation.

"You're really mean, yknow that?" You mumbled.

"Mean? I just fingered you—"

"Yeah, and I've been fully naked, completely exposed, and you've been enjoying the luxury and comfort of your stupid clothes."

"Then undress me." He huffed.

You rolled your eyes lightly, but you did just that. You yanked his t-shirt over his head, tossing it off to the foot of the bed before you shifted down and undid his slacks, tugging them down with his boxers. His cock sprung free, landing heavy against his lower belly, tip red and leaky.

"Y'know, for the size of the rest of your body, you hold a decent package." You looked up at him, watching that smug look form on his stupidly attractive face.

"I like to think I do, yeah."

There was a small pause as you situated yourself over him, and before you lifted his length to line him up, he reached out and paused.

"Are you okay with not using condoms? Unless you happen to have some..?" He asked quietly, like he was suddenly afraid of someone hearing the word 'condom'.

"I don't really care right now, Robert. We've gotten this far, so unless you're going to stop because of not having protection, I think I'm good to continue." You said, and Robert nodded.

"I'm fine. Just wanted to make sure you weren't gonna think about it later and freak out. Also, I'm clean, I promise."

"I wasn't worried about you being clean. You don't look like you get your dick wet too often nowadays." You snickered, earning a frown from him.

"I have sex every now and then."

"So you have sex every few months? Kind of sad for a guy like yourself." You teased, running your nail along the underside of his cock before you pressed your fingertip against his leaky tip, eliciting a whine from him.

"God—can't you just let me fuck you already?" He whined, hips bucking impatiently against your touch.

You listened, propping his length upright as you hovered over his length and lowered yourself to let his tip press just at your entrance before you eased yourself down his length until you were sitting fully on his cock, watching his hands twitch and shake at his sides as he fought his own self control, struggling between the choice of holding onto you and making you move or keeping his hands to himself and letting you do the work.

Slowly, you lifted your hips halfway, easing back down with a soft, breathy moan. Robert groaned lightly, his tip twitching inside of you as he subconsciously tried to buck his hips for more. "S-sorry, I'm sorry—don't rush—" he tried to apologize, the words getting caught between moans as he felt you find a slow, steady rhythm of lifting halfway and dropping back down.

To help with his twitchy hands, you reached out to take his hands, fingers tangling together as he grasped desperately, head falling back with a string of praise and pleas falling from his lips.

"Ho—ooly shit," he whimpered, hips bucking more freely now that you'd gotten comfortable and found a good pace. You leaned forward, pinning his hands down on the sides of his head against the pillow as you picked up the pace and found a better angle. With you leaning over him like this, your breasts were bouncing right in front of his face, and he almost came right then and there. He lifted his head and tried to latch onto your nipple, but when he couldn't due to your hands holding his down, he dropped back down with a whine, head falling back as he felt you squeeze around him.

"Mmh.. don't do that. Don't just pout because you can't touch me." You panted, face hovering over his as you stopped your hips for a moment, his tip barely inside of you. He choked out a groan, hips bucking upward to fuck into you.

"D-don't stop—not now, baby, please." He squeezed your hands, fucking himself up into you as he looked down where your bodies met.

"You know, you could—oh, shit—y-you could easily overpower me." You swallowed harshly.

"Don't want to. Just.. just want you." He looked up at you, and you'd never seen him look so wrecked. He really did just want you, however you'd give yourself to him, even if it meant letting you tease him and maybe humiliate himself a little bit.

"God, who knew you were so.. whiney?" You teased, finally dropping your hips back down and watching his chest heave with a cry of pleasure, eyes wide as he dug his nails into the back of your hands.

"Oh, fuck me," he breathed, his thighs trembling worse than yours, and he hadn't even finished yet.

"Yeah? You want that?" You shifted your knees propping yourself up properly before you practically sent him into a shock with how you started riding him again.

"Shit—fuck!" He cursed, his own back arching as he finally tore his hands away from yours, shooting to grab at your hips. You thought he was going to use that grasp to fuck into you at his preferred pace and rhythm, but he just wanted to hold onto you, and he didn't even try to take control other than the impatient bucking of his hips.

Much to your expectations, Robert was cumming before he could try to warn you, but lucky for his ego, you weren't far behind, and the feeling and sight of Robert coming undone only added to your pleasure as you stopped your movements and let him fuck into you from below, prolonging both of your orgasms before he went limp, chest heaving as his hands remained grasping your hips, keeping you from moving until he wanted you to.

"Holy shit." He breathed, slowly regaining his vision as he looked up at you when you fell forward onto his chest. His cock slowly slipped out of you, and you groaned in unison at the feeling of his cum spilling out of you and onto his softening cock in thick, seemingly endless globs.

"So, you definitely haven't touched yourself or had sex in a long time." You quipped, still panting as you lifted your head to kiss him.

"Mm-mm. Definitely not." He uttered, hands running along your ass and back, his hands now warmer and gentler than when this all started. You two relaxed for a moment, just kissing with a gross amount of tongue on Robert's end.

"You wanna go again?" He whispered against your lips, letting you roll off to lay next to him.

"Only if you're on top. Riding makes me really sore." You draped a leg over his, pulling his hips in closer to you. He hummed happily, a smirk forming over his lips as he rolled to trap you under him.

"Now this is where the dream comes into reality." He mumbled, mouthing down to your breasts as both of his hands groped and squeezed at your breasts, squishing them together as he licked and nipped at the skin.

"Ow! Don't bite so hard." You whined, swatting at his shoulder. In retaliation, he only bit harder. "Robert." You scolded quietly, kicking at his leg.

"Hush." He shushed, holding your legs down.

The switch of his behavior was a little shocking—from a whiney, gasping mess, now he was biting and holding you down to take what he wanted. It was a definitely hotter than you'd expected.

"Do you still think I have any unnecessary attention for other women?" He asked, sitting back on his haunches as he tugged your hips up, holding you so that your hips remained in the air.

"You haven't really proven that you're that dedicated." You mumbled, only half joking as you watched him reach down to press his length between your folds, his tip nudging against your clit as he spread your arousal around his length, allowing himself to finish recovering from the first round.

Robert lined himself up, lifting your hips a little higher before he eased into you, making you whine and drop your head against the pillow as you reached out to lay your hands over his as he kept his hands over your hips. Unlike his fingering and the first round, he started at a faster pace this time, tired of starting out slow. He knew you could take it now, so he was done hesitating. He pulled you back and forth, meeting his thrusts halfway as one hand slipped around to find your clit, using his thumb to press harder than earlier, feeling your walls tighten and flutter around his cock.

"O—oh shit." Robert choked. Even as he took on the dominant position, he wasn't immune to losing his mind when you'd clench around him. "You feel so fucking good." He breathed, picking up the pace as he thrusted harder to test it out.

Your back arched, thighs tensing and trembling slightly as your hips bucked into his thrusts. "R-robert," you reached to grab his wrists, but he didn't falter, only doubling his efforts to encourage your release. He finally tore his gaze from your face, looking down, and he moaned at the sight of a small bulge being evident in your lower belly with each harsh thrust into you, his tip just shy of meeting your cervix each time.

He lifted his hand away from your clit, allowing you to relax and savor the pleasure for a moment as he took one of your hands and pressed it flat over the reappearing bulge. With the gentle pressure against the bump, you whimpered, thighs squeezing around his hips.

"'m s-so full, Robs," you panted, looking up at him with a soft cry of pleasure as he pressed down a little harder, his thrusts harsher now.

"So fuckin' deep.. god, this is amazing." He groaned, brows knitting together, short hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy, the sight alone nearly causing him to spiral. "shit, 'm not gonna last, baby," he lifted his gaze, looking at you through his dark lashes as he trailed his hand up your belly and found the plush of your breast, squeezing the warm flesh.

"please—ah! fuck, fuck!" you cried, thighs trembling wildly around his hips as your back arched and your head fell into the pillow. Your hands grasped at his arms, tugging him to lean over you. He looped one arm under your hips to keep your hips elevated, his other hand planted at the side of your head as he let your nails drag over his back and shoulders.

Much to Robert's pleasure, you caved before him, your core squeezing around him like a vice grip that made his thrusts falter. He watched, taking in the way you cried out from the pleasure, body trembling beneath his. You damn near saw stars from how good it was. Robert followed moments after, burying himself as deep as he could go as his cum spilled into your pussy, a sensation that still made you shiver.

Robert stayed above you, panting heavily as his head fell to your shoulder, skin sweaty and hot against your own. Slowly, he pulled out, rolling over to plop himself next to you. You two remained silent other than the heavy breathing and occasional shuffle of getting comfortable. The room smelled of sweat, sex, and neither of you had any doubt that Robert was stuck on you, and only you.

"You believe me yet?"

"You just busted inside of me twice after fingering me, and made me see stars two out of three times." You huffed, sitting up to look at him.

"Yeah? Mmh, I'm not sure I remember that. Maybe we should go again." Robert rasped, pulling you onto his chest for another kiss.

"You're funny." You hummed into the kiss, letting him enjoy himself before you bit down and made him jolt away with a scowl.

"Okay, damn," he lifted you off of him before he stood up, stretching his legs. "Where are your spare sheets?" He asked.

"Bottom dresser drawer." You pointed, rolling over to sit up and drag the blanket with you to cover yourself as you waited for Robert to change the bedding.

Robert changed the sheets and got a new blanket from the hall closet before he came back to stand with you.

"You think we should shower?" He asked.

"Yes. I'm not letting you into my clean bed with your sweaty ass." You said, reaching around to swat his butt before you dropped the blanket and ran to the bathroom, starting the shower.

"Wha—hey!"

[st4r1ightzz]

[mmagurro]

joongdok 🦑🐟

[cyclic-abelian]

I put my entire being into that background

[cyclic-abelian]

[lemonlurkrr]

hyperfixation sucks I think just a little too hard about a guy who isn't even real and I could start crying any second

[190729]

[myloumeti]

playing matchmaker - chapter 1

pairing: yuta okkotsu x male! reader

genre: fluff, eventual smut

tags: soulmate au, post-rika

note: (not edited) this was posted on my ao3 over a year ago but I'm posting it here

wordcount: 0.9k

“They’ll love you! There’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N].” He pats my back and then nudges for me to come with him. My feet trek after him out to a wide, green area encircled by a track.

Nervously I hold my left hand with my right and run my thumb over my original soulmate marking- a spear run through the Sun. The spear points outwards, reaching toward my ring finger.

Some hushed tones guide my attention back to a handful of students warming up, stretching out, and practicing swings with a staff. They slowed their activities as we approached. I let my hands drop to my side.

“Good afternoon my wonderful students!” he said, clapping his hands together. A few complaints and groans could be heard from around the training field. “Oh, come on! That’s no way to treat your newest addition!”

With that, Gojo moved from his spot in front of me and went to my side, opening his arms extravagantly. My stance shrinks a little under their curious gazes.

“Now, there are four other students in your year. There’s Maki- she’s kinda moody, wears glasses, and has long green hair. Then there’s Inumaki. He’s a cursed speech user, so his mouth is usually covered and he only speaks in ingredients.

There’s Panda, who’s a cursed corpse. And then there’s the newest one before you transferred- Yuuta. He’s still kinda shy, but don’t let him off easy because of that. He’s very strong.”

“This is [Y/N]! He’s transferring here from another jujutsu school. Isn’t that cool everyone?” Their eyes shift back to him briefly before fixating on me once again. They all nod silently. “Well, now that we’re acquainted, [Y/N] is going to start training with you all today. Inumaki! You’re his first sparring partner.” The boy whose mouth is covered looks at me and gives me a nod, before returning his attention to Gojo. “Have fun, my lovely students!” With that, he leisurely walks off to a nearby building.

My eyes trailed back to the boy I’d be sparring with - Inumaki. He doesn’t seem too physically intimidating, but looks can be deceiving. He stands up from his spot on the grass and motions for me to walk with him.

I trail after him until we stop in front of a weapons station, all of which have blunted tips for practicing combat. After glancing over my options, my hand reaches for a wooden staff. His does the same.

Weapons in hand, we walk over to an open space on the field. I pause a small distance from him and prepare my stance. His eyes meet mine with a quick questioning glance. “Tuna?”

“I’m ready.” With a nod from him, we begin to slowly circle each other with our staffs poised. It takes a moment for one of us to make the first move. He starts forward with his staff tilted, ready to counter my upcoming hit.

As expected, I strike once he’s within range. He quickly responds with a set of short, forceful attacks. I’m able to hold them off and return a few attempts, but soon decide I need to step back and assess him for a second. He continues to barrage me with quick attacks, and my shoes scrape in the dirt when I evade them. Damn, he’s fast.

Once I’m able to maintain a fair distance, we circle each other like hawks, patiently waiting for an easy strike. After some time of watching his movements, he lurches forward at me again with the same stance as before.

This time, however, I swipe the blunted edge in an arc at him rather than go for the forward blow. It noticeably throws him off and he swerves to correct his balance. I seize this moment to try to throw him off his feet, extending my arm to let the staff reach his heel. In my haste, I failed to realize that Inumaki was countering my move with his own.

As my arm quickly reached out to hit his heel, his staff came down harshly where the middle of the staff had been moments before, except now my left hand is in its place.

Thwack.

Both our weapons immediately fall to the ground and I curl my hand into my chest protectively. I slowly let a breath escape through my teeth. Though I don’t think it’s broken, it still hurts like a bitch. A light drip of blood is coming from my knuckles and the beginnings of a large bruise are forming.

Inumaki swiftly approaches me with concern lacing his features. His eyes take one look at my hand before gently dragging me by the elbow over to the closest bench.

He motions for me to sit down and wait here. He then jogs off, soon returning with a first aid kit held in his hands. His fingers gingerly pry my fingers from their loosely bunched-up fist, careful not to use much pressure while examining it. His index finger gently traces down the spear within the soul mark on my hand. After a moment, he begins to wrap my hand with bandages.

Hesitantly, my eyes survey the other students. Across the field, Panda seems focused on a punching bag. That leaves Maki and Yuuta. Just as my eyes trail over to them, I realize Maki has partnered up with Inumaki, leaving Yuuta and I as a pair.

[ryukatters]

I found an AOT dating sim that these two girls made (it’s on Google Slides)

Here’s the link if anyone’s interested

[rulaineyu]

High School Impact: Monoceros Caeli

CHILDE GOOGLE SLIDES DATING SIM

Hey everyone! You may have noticed I’ve been a lil quiet for the past month, and that’s because I’ve been working on a google slides dating sim/visual novel for Childe’s birthday! I put in a lot of work into this dating sim and I’m so excited to have you all finally play it! 

It’s a choose-your-own-adventure dating sim, where you play as a high school student at Genshin High School as you try to woe the infamous third-year Childe! There are 3 endings - 2 romantic, 1 platonic - so you can play how you want! 

Can’t wait to hear what you all think! <3

(reblogs appreciated!)

Screencaps under the cut

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