"innocent people don't run." (in which Villain!Visi is very much lying about being innocent)
"Oh, this is you being innocent?" The tone of his voice is tight enough to know that he isn't even close to believing her. His fingers, with tips pressing against the concrete wall on either side of her, slide out until his palms strengthen his posture by being flat against the surface. Again and again. Robert didn't think something like this would keep happening. Begrudgingly he almost started to enjoy catching her like this. Almost. Because he still would so much rather it be more like the movies.
"I thought it was because you felt bad for just up and leaving while we were in the middle of something last time." Elbows bend to allow an intrusion into more of her space. Mecha Man leaning forward until he could smell the cigarette smoke still clinging to her clothing and a bit of air pushed from her lips. "That and because the Mech is in front of the only door out of the building."
Robert tilts his head, sliding his brown eyes to her own, looking for… something, any sort of break in this character of hers. That is, when he's not being so distracted by her lips. A subject that has been on his mind more than he feels comfortable ever admitting since running into her at the Sardine. Really since the night with Shroud.
Seems she only bit when there was chum in the water.
Hoarse, breathless, ecstatic. It was enough of a signal to let him know he was doing a fine job. And all he can do is grunt. Putting aside intended goals for tonight, it works in motivating him. As she could probably tell from the tightening grip of his arms currently encircling her. Which is also pinning her legs in, what Robert assumes, is quite an uncomfortable position with the added pressure of being held up against the cold metal of the Mech's flank with Robert’s entire body weight.
Not that he could tell she was uncomfortable by how she was acting. She seemed right at home being carried by him like this. She certainly wasn't holding back and more than once she had attempted to leverage her leg into a hook over his shoulder. It wasn't needed; the nudge was all he required as a reminder that her lips were left unattended to for too long. So, he remedies that, earning another pleasant trill from her throat.
Through it all and despite the numbing pleasure, Robert just can't help but wonder what in the good fucking god he was doing. This was the fourth time things turned out like this, if one were keeping count. Which he is. He absolutely is.
A pattern was coming together that was nothing short of impossibly reckless. As the night— what felt like any random night, was ending. Villains and punks put back in their place or sent running. Another robbery alert would come up, always from one particularly rich part of town. It was practically a calling card. That and all the other little signs she'd leave to lead him right to her. A cigarette butt here, sometimes a sour patch kids wrapper there. Signs that were clearly meant for him. Rob even had the inclination that inevitably, and despite his best efforts, things would turn out like this. —Maybe not down to the details of how he would hoist her up and put whatever energy he had to spare from a night of crime fighting into making her scream. Details always did get a bit hazy once they got started.
But even just thinking that made it more real than he would have liked. Made whatever was happening between them more real.
Courtney must have picked up on the spiraling within his mind, his movements jutting a bit more meekly, because her teeth come down hard on his bottom lip. The flinch is immediate as is the message she sends. Robert yanks his head back, a fresh taste of iron flooding his mouth. Confirmed breaking of skin when his tongue runs over his bottom lip. "Gah! Fuck!"
Glares are shooting back in return but the smirk she wears is undeniable, the breathless laugh that follows it is just salt in the wound. And it gets her exactly what she wants. Robert refocuses again. Pushing away the hesitation and doubt in favor of chasing a high that is so very temporary. Mouths collapse back together again; he moves to take that territory entirely. She could have a taste of it too if she was so keen. Tongue delivered.
The white-hot pain is enough of a jump start to frustration for Robert to bend back and turn from the Mech. This fight is taken to the floor. Not like he would need the support anymore, not when all pistons were moving in one direction and gravity was a constant force. She still managed to wriggle in his grasp just enough to free her legs from their upturned lock and find new purchase around him. Like this was all just some trap she set, like it’s all just part of the plan.
Maybe it was. Who is Robert to even say. The back and forth leading to this and all times prior was child's play, a game at most. Robert was used to the scraps. The bloody knuckles and busted lips. Tumbling and slamming into the metal walls of his Mecha. But here? With her? It was more evasion than clash. More teasing and groping, than grappling or clawing. Though she didn’t shy away from either of those. As the wounds still closing on his back and shoulders from last time would suggest.
"You're a fucking menace." Is practically all he can get out of his mouth between gulps for air. Her response? Well, it's no less biting even with the slurring in her voice. "Tell me something I don't know. No, wait, moan it." The tilt of her hips is the period in her statement, and she gets pretty close to it based on Robert's reaction. The spike in his timbre, the solidifying of his muscles into corded steel.
His posture is rigid, threatening to release. But he's quick to recover, back bending out of stiffness he lowers himself down to her close enough for lips to hover, cupping her face. "You're the one doing all the moaning." Head spinning, he knows he's close and still refuses. Not yet. Robert finds within himself that he doesn't want this to end. Just a bit longer. The Hero's lips part, wanting to consume her. Caught between wanting another taste to overwrite the iron still staining the tip of his tongue and the tempting delight of pinning down her talkative tongue with his thumb. Only hesitating because he is unwilling to cut short his thrust and another attempt to make her cry out again.
It works. And the split-second decision-making falls to a kiss because how could he not when she gives him such incentive. Locomotion at its finest he allows himself to give into that. Just the movements, just Courtney. Nothing else because worrying about what is and isn't right didn't have space in their room, whatever room that happens to be.
Robert wants to say more, to provide more emotion, more feeling into his actions but he holds that back in favor of a steadier climax. And still, what a fucking climax it is.
Complete and total shut down into hard reboot on all software. Hardware was on the fritz too. Well, at least he brought the protection.
When the kiss finally breaks the wave of self-inflicted shame comes like it had the previous times. Add to that being on the floor of some fucking warehouse on the backend of Downtown. Nothing about this jumped out at him as the spot for aftercare.
That sucked. This sucks.
What he wishes was spread out over minutes if not hours are compressed and delivered in silent kisses along her neck for just seconds. She was still catching her breath but that was momentary. She'd be back to taking shots at his ego in no time and not long after that she'd be fixing her clothes and leaving. Like it was so normal to do.
Like anything was normal about them.
Sucks.
"Robert…"
And there it is. She's already shifting too, that means it’s time to heel. Great. Once more instead of doing his job. Ya know, saving lives? He's out here getting off to someone who didn't even want to stick around to smoke after.
He's already climbing off of her. No need to ask. "We should just get a motel next time." Because he supposes there will be a next time. Inevitably.
Rollin’ - Limp Bizkit
Last Resort - Papa Roach
Destiny - NEFFEX
LONERS ANTHEM - WHO SHOT SCOTT
Holiday - Green Day
V; Dispatched:
End of it - Friday Pilots Club
Seasons (Waiting On You) - Future Islands, BADBADNOTGOOD
Tech Noir - Gunship, John Capenter, Charlie Simpson
Givin’ Up - Emarosa
Nightcall - Kavinsky
V; Damocles:
Venom - Eminem
The Chain - Fleetwood Mac
Damocles - Sleep Token
This one’s gonna hurt me - Artemas
Beggin’ - Måneskin
“You look like you could use another drink… or a bad decision.”
Man he felt like shit. And what else is new, Robbie? Christ, even the inner lashings had a certain tone about them now.
The night was young and so was the brand new wound that bled from inside chest. Liquor cooled with ice was a nice paralyzer but hardly the remedy he required. You'd think he'd have come to know better than to run off drinking and wallowing in self pity when the heart was wavering.
Seemed that she had that effect on him. Not very 'Mecha Man'. Had to be the Robert in him. He shook his head, then threw back the last swig. Last round it was then, lest he end up dangling upside down. Again.
Well, that was the plan anyway. Until he heard the voice that did freeze his bones. Why? Well it was one he he'd been wanting to hear. The one he'd be chasing and looking for in all of his free time. Robert just didn't expect the chill to accompany it.
Eyes cast upward to his side. The shaded lights of the bar cut quite a nice silhouette over her figure, a nice subtle red glow from the jukebox behind her. Was she eating it up? The shock in his eyes or the fear? Fear that the moment would come and pass and like that she would be gone again.
Parched lips parted, trying to find the right words to use. Ones that would hopefully extend this meeting beyond a simple taunt. "I have a hard time picking sometimes. Usually end up with both." He was staring. There was more he wanted to so say. So much more! But instead he flicked his eyes, motioning wordlessly to the stool next to him. Rob and Courtney. That's all this had to be. That's all he wanted this to be. "You sure know how to keep a guy on the chase. Couldn't cut me a little slack?"
Default timelines and verses will be the canon assumed unless otherwise stated.
Verse Contributors are those I've vibed and discussed at length with. Our threads canonically push the 'narrative' along within the verse on this blog as an affiliate.
—Default Timeline:
Default timeline affiliations and contributors:
@villainpowers
>The Mecha Man;
Pre-Dispatch, encompassing the 15 years blank period Robert operated as Mecha Man Blue. This will also encompass my prequel fic anthology, The Long Fall. (Link will be added here as I begin posting)
>Dispatched;
Taking place during the events of the 8 episodes across Season 1
>Hungover;
Post Season 1 with the assumption Robert succeeded as a Mentor and made the choice to take Shroud's life at the end of Season 1
——————————————————————————————————
—Alternate Realities:
>Damocles;
Post Season 1 timeline with the assumption of Robert failing as a mentor and living his worst life. He spirals as a full time hero once more and is barely able to hold the Z-Team and Phoenix Program together.
Verse Contributors:
@villainpowers
>Z-Team Started the Fire!;
Hypothetical Season 2 mixed with The Office.
Verse Contributors:
@villainpowers
@sdnshouldpaymemore
@warwaited
@celaestialchaos
@ascendedpath
@baeflame
>The BLUE KNIGHT;
Baldur’s Gate 3 verse (as mandated and contributed to by @estarion)
Three generations of proud Knights have stood vigilant in Faerûn. The first of that held the title of Baldur’s Knight was a success story. Someone coming from nowhere and nothing to become a great adventurer. Dubbed the Prime Knight by the legacy the people attached to the stories, fell in battle saving many lives. The second inheritor of the legacy was dubbed the Astral Knight, a charming and charismatic man who joined with a group of adventurers and be one of the many individuals that would usher in a golden age of heroes and peace. Wielding an Astral Sword blessed by the Gods, the Astral Knight’s legacy was cemented in history when tragedy struck. A wizard within the Astral Knight’s own party betrayed him, murdering him in cold blood.
Years would pass and a new adventurer took up the mantle of Baldur’s Knight. Dubbed the Blue Knight by the people, this armored individual took up the Astral Sword and once more the city breathed a sigh of relief.
The Wizard, Shroud that had killed The Astral Knight however would escape from his imprisonment prompting Blue to leap into action and hunt down the traitor for his predecessor. The results of the quest would be failure. Outsmarted and outmatched, the Blue Knight was defeated, his enchanted sword destroyed, and he was barely able to escape with his life.
Robert, no longer able to function as the Blue Knight is provided employment by a certain blonde paladin as a receptionist with a growing Adventurer’s Guild, in exchange they would assist him in hunting down the fragments of his blade and attempting to bring the Blue Knight back from the dead.
