Werewolf!Boyfriend who wants to stay secure in your arms while he transforms under the full moon instead of being alone like always but he's scared he'll hurt you.
Werewolf!Boyfriend who you hold in your arms, petting his hair and assuring him nothing he could do would hurt you.
Werewolf!Boyfriend who clings to you when night falls and it begins, his bones and skin aching as he starts to pant.
Werewolf!Boyfriend who whines against you in pain as his body starts to shift, burying his head deeper against your lap as he mumbles about how its going. You tell him reassuring words as he grunts.
Werewolf!Boyfriend who grabs onto your arm for support as he feels fur start to sprout on him, trying not to dig his claws into you as he groans in pain, sharp fangs crowding his mouth.
Werewolf!Boyfriend who collapses on your lap fully transformed, tail thumping as you stroke his ears and tell him that you're still here for him.
But like imagine neighbor! Price, he knows your husband and isn’t that big of a fan of him at all. Leaving you alone for days on end for “business trips”. Price knew that’s not what he was doing. Your husband was a damn junkie. Running up all you guys money on coke and bottles at clubs.
He had seen him while off duty at a club with Gaz and Nikolai. Blowing your money, the money he had spent without your knowledge, on strippers and the several bottles he had bought in the club.
Price being be good neighbor he was had told you. He felt bad when he saw how your heart practically shattered. You were tearing up and ended up crying into his chest. He brought you back into your house where he stayed with you the entire time. Your tears for your husband was soon replaced with tears for John as he had you splayed out on his lap.
“I know baby, I know. Feels good yeah?”
You could barely get your words out as he rubbed your clit for what seemed like forever while he had you propped up on his lap. Tears pouring down your cheeks as you felt your fourth orgasm hit you.
“So good for me doll, let’s make sure you feel real nice now, yeah?..”💭🎀
I love the idea of dating Jason Todd as a somewhat sugar daddy sort of situation. He pays your rent, won't let you pay for anything when you are together. And he never says no to anything you could ask for if you ask him right after sex. There isn't enough ftm!reader sugar daddy fics/drabbles.
I think Jason would but I also think he’d be so lowkey about it
examples! ˙⋆✮
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
You go out to a coffee shop and you sway back and forth as you try to decide if you want your regular or something—Jason just holds your hand as he waits for you to finally blurt out what you want and before you can even think about the total that the barista announces, his card is pressed against the reader and the transaction had gone through.
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
You’re looking over your finances for the month—they aren’t necessarily bad they were just a little tight. You’d probably have to put off your car maintenance for a while because rent and bills had to take priority. Jason bites into an apple as he peeks over your shoulder, looking at your current balance and your expected expenses—he swallows before telling you not to worry about it—he’ll cover your rent and bills, you should go get your car checked out. You try to argue, telling him you could at least split it, it wouldn’t be fair on him to shoulder everything. He argues that it wouldn’t be fair on you considering your salary differences (if you could consider his collections from a drug ring a salary)
You decide to split on percentage the next month. He still insists on paying the full rent (you tuck the $10 you theoretically owe him into his wallet every month).
(Also he looks at your car himself; how silly of you to think you would need to go to anybody else to fix a motor oil when your boyfriend could do it for you.)
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
You stumble into your apartment, exhausted after being awake for 20 hours straight and working some ungoldly shifts—you almost don’t notice the extra pair of shoes sat by your door—the only reason you do is because they are shiny and new and too small to be Jason’s. Your first thought should have been that Jason had invited somebody into the apartment while you were out but that was actually so far from your mind. In what world would Jason bring somebody back to your shared home?? His safe space?
Oh yeah, I bought you a new pair of shoes, he answers casually as you collapse on him. Something about noticing that your current shoes are falling apart so he just bought you the same pair, only with less holes. You mumble something that sounds like a ‘thanks’ and he’s mentioning something about going shopping for more if you didn’t like them anymore but you’re already out like a light
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
➜ ftm specific ♡
It often comes up during late night musings what your plans are for yourself in the future, especially when it came to transitioning. You’d done some of it, but there’s still so much more you want to do—you muse about top surgery like it’s a distant dream and with the current state of your salary and the lack of trans healthcare around, it might as well be. Hope is what keeps you going, but you absently rub at your sternum as you quietly admit to Jason how much of a relief it would be for you when you finally get it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the circles under your eyes as he asks furthering questions, where you want it done, if you have a surgeon in mind yet, what kind of surgery would you want, where would you want to stay to recover.
You answer every questions, it makes it feel more real as you do.
He asks when you want it done and honestly? As soon as you have the funds.
He asks if he can cover it and your heart leaps.
You want to argue, say it’s an insane amount of money and he’d have to cover a lot more than just the surgery because you’d have to skip out on work and you’d have to travel and all that other stuff he might not be thinking about but he’s staring with such earnest eyes that everything dies in your throat. And you nod wordlessly because both of you would love nothing more than for you to feel comfortable in your own body. ♡
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
uh,, tada! I didn’t expect to write so much lmao, clearly I missed this
hope you enjoyed ˙⋆✮ the last one almost made me tear up icl
summary:
“I need to tell you something,” Robert says somewhat stiffly, his heart racing in his chest. You look up from where you’d been scrolling on your phone, giving him a flat look. You glance to your left and right, as if making sure no one is listening.
“You’re Mecha Man,” you then remark dryly, taking another bite of your sandwich and covering your mouth. “I know,” you say once you’re finished chewing.
“Oh,” Robert blinks. That wasn’t even what he wanted to say.
Robert attempts to get to know the most private member of the Z-Team. You don’t give him much to work with, unsurprisingly.
word count: 7.2k | ao3 version
author’s notes: Since this is self-indulgent (as is all my writing), the reader is pretty antisocial. I’m usually careful to keep the reader a bit of a blank slate, but this one is probably closer to OC territory just in terms of personality and hero name. Ah well! I think it’s still a fun read.
So! The reader’s pronouns are he/him. Race is ambiguous; there’s a scene where he’s written to be shirtless, but otherwise, physical descriptions aren’t used. He’s written to have powers related to shadow manipulation and I gave him the hero name ‘Phantom’.
This is canon-divergent and non-compliant. Also worth noting that I think this game’s writing sucks, and I also hate Invisigal, so. Yeah.
The title of this fic is from what’s wrong with me by Olivia Rodrigo <3333 It really reminds me of Robert.
Warnings: spoilers to Dispatch, sexual humor/innuendo (thanks, Flambae), fainting and loss of consciousness, hospitals, blood and injury.
You’re doing nothing wrong. You keep your head down and don’t mouth off; you show up to meetings on time (which is more than can be said for most participants in the Phoenix Program); you’re not easily distracted. You work well with others when necessary, but you’re competent on your own.
And when Robert becomes the newest dispatcher for the Z-Team, you barely even react. You obey his orders, hide any sarcasm, don’t insult him. From the beginning, you’re the easiest person to work with.
Robert still isn’t satisfied. It’s not your performance—your speed, endurance, and intelligence make almost any mission a guaranteed success. It’s not your demeanor either. At least, not really.
“Where’s Phantom?” he asks loudly, the consistent thrum of the bass rattling his thoughts. Robert doesn’t exactly feel at home in this villain bar, but he wanted to spend some time with his team outside of work. Hence how he finds himself sitting in the Sardine, pretending not to notice the dirty looks he’s getting. The others fit right in, considering their pasts as supervillains. Robert, on the other hand…
“Phantom?” Invisigal repeats, throwing him a judgmental look. She doesn’t appreciate that he’s asking about you, clearly. “Who cares?” she huffs, resting her arms on the bar counter.
“This isn’t his kind of place,” Sonar remarks. Robert is the only one to hear him, and he frowns. He thought he’d been doing pretty well with the whole ‘team-bonding’ thing, but you haven’t been receptive. You’ve been easy to work with, but difficult to pin down outside of work hours. Hell, it’s like you disappear the moment you’re off the clock. Your hero name is far more accurate than you probably realize; like a phantom, you’re there one moment and gone the next.
Robert finds himself reviewing your file in his mind. He’s already memorized it, at this point. Because it’s the only information he really has on you.
PHANTOM
Bio: Comes and goes quickly. Enigmatic and clever. Selective thievery—steals from the rich and powerful, often returning cultural artifacts to public institutions after the fact.
Abilities: Can manipulate shadows and travel through darkness.
Crimes: Burglary, grand larceny, loitering, possession of stolen property.
Note: Do not leave in a dark room. EVER.
Note from Chase: Tolerable. Almost interesting to speak with, but never sticks around long enough.
Mondays at SDN Torrance are always slow.
Robert sighs. The Z-Team members on the clock today are either resting or currently on duty. They’re all preoccupied right now, which means he’s stuck sitting here contemplating his life choices. He does this for a few minutes, before eventually deciding to revisit your file. Just for maintenance, really. He’s not doing this for any particular reason, and he’s definitely not doing it to look at your mugshot again.
To Robert’s surprise, there’s a new line at the end of your file. His heart jumps in his chest, until he processes the words:
Note from Chase (again): Stop lingering. You won’t solve him.
Robert sighs again.
Eventually, he loses his patience.
It’s natural; Robert is only human. And for some reason, when it comes to you, waiting around feels like a complete waste of time. You’re not opening up to him, so he has to call in reinforcements. Namely, the human personification of sunshine: Blonde Blazer.
She isn’t convinced this will work. Something about you keeping to yourself, respecting your privacy, you being a reliable team member, yadda yadda. Honestly, Robert’s attention kind of slipped after the first few seconds. But Blazer knows he’s somewhat desperate—and she must be feeling particularly bad for him—because she’s soon summoning you to her office to speak with them both.
“I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ when this doesn’t work,” Blazer says just as she hears you knock. Robert sighs. “Come in!” Blazer says to you.
You open the door hesitantly, lingering in the doorway. Your hands are shoved in the pockets of your black cargo pants. That’s another thing that sets you apart from a lot of the superheroes at SDN: You don’t want to stand out. Your clothes are all black and a little baggy, as if you don’t want to be seen. Robert supposes that makes sense, when considering your superpower. You thrive in the shadows.
He watches as your eyes flit about the room. “Blazer,” you greet her cordially. Your gaze finds Robert second, and he pretends not to feel offended by it. “Robert. Hey.”
“Hey,” Robert replies.
You look between the both of them warily. It already looks like you’re going to bolt. “What’s this about?” you ask.
“Nothing; you’re not in trouble,” Blazer says reassuringly. She smiles. Uh oh. That smile means nothing good. And sure enough, she proceeds to throw him under the bus. “Robert was just telling me that he wanted to get to know you better.”
Robert sends her a dirty look.
Fortunately, you only look confused at the prospect. “Why?” you say skeptically, as if bewildered that someone would ever want to get to know the person beneath the darkness.
“We’re working together,” Robert answers smoothly, clasping his hands in his lap under the desk. He fidgets with one of his fingers, trying his best to keep his cool. For whatever reason, he gets kind of nervous in front of you. “It would be helpful to know more about you.”
“…Okay,” you say.
“That’s it?” Robert asks. He clears his throat and tries to sound more unbothered, less hopeful. It probably doesn’t work. “You’re agreeing?” The thought of learning more about you is an intriguing one, to say the least. Even your teammates don’t know very much about you. You keep your secrets—your thoughts, all of it— close to your chest.
“Agreeing to what?” you squint, bringing him back to the present moment. “I’m not agreeing to anything.”
Blazer sighs, sending him a knowing look. Robert presses on anyway. “But don’t you think—”
The door is swinging shut before he even finishes his sentence. He stares at the closed door in disbelief, before glancing over at Blonde Blazer. She’s looking down at the wooden surface of her desk, seeming to be fighting off a laugh.
“Don’t,” Robert warns her.
“Told you so,” she says with a teasing smile.
Robert scowls.
“The guy’s prickly,” Punch Up says to Robert after he’s recounted your conversation from earlier today. Everyone from the Z-Team was invited to this post-work outing at the Sardine; unsurprisingly, you aren’t here. Again. “He doesn’t really care for the mushy stuff. A man after my own heart.” He thumps his fist against his chest; Malevola rolls her eyes.
“You cried during the last movie night,” Sonar reminds him.
“Moana is a treasure, lad,” Punch Up responds firmly. Malevola just scoffs, before turning to Robert.
“Is this about Phantom again?” Malevola asks. “You could just ask him out. Save us the trouble of hearing you whine about it.”
“What?” Robert chokes. “I’m not asking him out. That’s ridiculous.”
“Riiiight,” Prism drawls, popping up from nowhere. “Girl. You’re always staring at him with those ‘fuck-me’ eyes in meetings. Kinda embarrassing. Like, get a room.”
“The what eyes?!?” Robert sputters, nearly choking on his drink. “I’ve never done that—!”
Robert looks to Invisigal for help, but she’s scowling and glaring at her drink like it’s committed a crime. He takes another sip of his drink… and pretends not to wish the empty seat next to him were occupied instead.
Robert Robertson’s ‘coming out’ goes down in typical Z-Team fashion: namely, out of his control; completely random and without explanation; and in the middle of the work day.
Prism is the instigator, unsurprisingly.
Honestly, Robert wasn’t sure if he’d ever tell the team formally. He’s always found it strange that people who aren’t heterosexual have to announce themselves to be validated. Like, why can’t he just show up with a boyfriend one day and leave it at that?
But, as much as he hates to admit it, everyone on the Z-Team is important to him. He wants them to know.
Could the announcement have been more graceful? Yes. But it’s too late for that. Instead it has to happen on a sunny afternoon in the middle of his shift. Robert had confided in Prism a few days prior, and she maintained that no one on the team would care. That many of them are gay themselves. But Robert was still unsure. He told himself he’d wait a bit longer, until he grew closer with everyone. (He wants to laugh at the memory now.)
The comms crackle after a few minutes of radio silence.
DISPATCH no. 163
Prism
(apropos of nothing)
Guys. Robert’s bisexual. He wants you to know.
The line is quiet for a while. Robert wants to melt into a puddle on the ground and disappear forever. He also wants to kill Prism, but that’s for another day. He’s more embarrassed than angry.
Just as he’s trying to psych himself up, though, Malevola makes the situation far worse by trying to get your attention.
Malevola
(pointedly)
Phantom.
You
(sounding distracted)
What?
That’s right. Robert had just sent you to the town square to calm down some rowdy citizens at the edges of a protest. You’re likely just getting that wrapped up.
Malevola
She’s talking to you.
You
Me? What does this have to do with me?
Prism
Robert wants you to know he’s bisexual.
You
(clearly confused)
Okay.
…Not really sure how that’s relevant, but good for you, Robert.
Robert(trying to save face)
That is nowhere near what I said. I’m not—
There’s silence on the line. Then everyone starts laughing. Everyone. Even Gollum, even Coupé.
Robert
(self-consciously)
What?
His face is burning red; Chase pops up from his adjacent desk, leaning over the divider with an amused expression on his face. Robert immediately waves him away, his cheeks pink as he runs a hand through his hair self-consciously. He forgot he’s sitting in the middle of the office right now, where everyone can hear him. Now he really wants to disappear.
You
Relax, guys.
Robert is immediately grateful that you came to his defense. He subconsciously presses his headset to his ear a bit tighter, his shoulders hunching as he tries to make himself as unnoticeable as possible.
He’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.
And is that amusement in your voice? That’s a new one.
Punch Up
(cackling)
Ahahah! Even the antisocial one knows. You’re really in it now, buddy.
Robert
(with a sigh)
All right, now if everyone can stop speculating on my sexuality—
Flambae
(with a louder sigh)
Who had bisexual?
Several voices overlap at once.
No, Sonar, you had gay, not bi—
Sonar
(arguing)
Same thing!
Prism
You would think a Harvard graduate would know the difference between bisexual and gay.
Sonar
Of course I do, I’m not a fucking idiot! But $100 is $100.
Prism
True.
Flambae
Sucks to suck, my fanged friend.
Malevola
Like you can talk. You thought he was straight.
Flambae
Yeah, ‘cause no gay guy dresses like that.
Robert
Guys. Can we please get back on track?
Phantom, there’s a robbery happening just down the street from you.
You
On it.
Your line clicks off as you exit the call. Golem chuckles.
Prism
Real smooth.
Robert
(demanding)
What?
Sonar
(amused)
You didn’t want him there for that. Awwww, Bobby’s embarrassed…
Robert
(threateningly)
Call me Bobby again and I’m sending you to the old lady who needs help with her cat.
Sonar
(with a punctuated sigh)
Fine… Robert.
Robert
Thank you. Now back to work, everyone.
Robert has always been aware of the fact that he is human. Unfortunately. He doesn’t have any superpowers. Without the Mecha Man suit, he’s average. His dispatching work at SDN has been fulfilling, and he feels like he’s contributing. But still. There are times when Robert wishes he weren’t so powerless.
Like now, for example. He saw some kids robbing a store—not even a supermarket or department store, but a mom-and-pop type of store—and he tried to intercept them. Tried being the key word in that sentence, because he proceeded to get his ass kicked and nearly curb-stomped.
Fortunately, just before the heel of the kid’s shoe reaches his face, the kid is shoved away. The world around Robert is briefly flooded in darkness, before he blinks and realizes it isn’t just his eyes—it’s you. You’re standing in front of Robert now, and though he’s unable to see the expression on your face, the shadows oscillating around you tell him you’re pissed.
“Scram,” you order them. “Now.”
The kids don’t hesitate to make a quick getaway, promptly ditching their stolen goods and running away. You watch them retreat, before you’re turning back to Robert. “You good?” you ask, blinking down at him.
“I— yeah,” Robert stammers, still sitting on the ground like an idiot. The rough texture of the pavement is digging into his hand. Still, he attempts to pick up the remains of his dignity. “I could’ve handled it, though.”
You just send him an unimpressed look. He caves.
“Okay, fine, maybe not,” Robert admits. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” you respond. “Want a shortcut to the office?”
“Sure,” he agrees easily. “Thanks.” Robert blinks in surprise at your extended hand, before taking it and letting you pull him to his feet.
“The prickling feeling’s normal,” you warn him. Robert can’t even begin to figure out what that means before the world around him is fading to black. Darkness coalesces around him, thick and impenetrable and stifling. His shoulders bend, his body contorts like it’s shrinking on itself, and his skin is itching.
Then, in a blink, he’s standing on the pavement outside the office. You’re regarding him with a concerned expression. Or maybe that’s just Robert’s imagination. It’s hard to tell. Everything is spinning. Why is everything spinning? His head hurts.
“Are you okay?” you question. Your face contorts unnaturally.
“Yeah— whoa,” Robert says, blinking a bit as his vision is thrown off. You steady him with a hand on his forearm. He should push you away. He doesn’t.
“Did you get hit?” you frown, studying him. Your voice sounds a bit distant. The sky is blurring behind you. “You don’t look so good.”
“Robert?” you ask. Now you sound far away. Robert tumbles to the ground, and the last sensation he recognizes is a hand on his waist and a murmured “Shit.”
Robert wakes feeling like he got hit by a truck. Then a bus. Then maybe a train.
His throat is drier than a desert, he realizes as he inhales past scratchiness. He clears it and coughs, before a glass of water is pushed into his hand. He takes a few greedy sips, nearly downing the whole thing before it’s pulled away from him.
“You’ll make yourself sick,” a flat, admonishing voice says. Robert feels his stomach turn as he realizes the absolute last person he wants to see is standing there: you.
He always enjoys seeing you! It’s not that. It’s more… the embarrassing nature of it all. Robert is strung up in a hospital bed; his head hurts; he feels like shit and probably smells like it too. Not exactly his most flattering moment. And it’s difficult to think past his searing headache.
As if sensing Robert’s attempts to get his bearings, you continue. “You fell into my arms like a fairy tale princess,” you say with a smirk, arms crossed over your chest as you look down at him with amusement. “Gotta say, you are heavier than you look.”
Ugh. He’s never going to live this down, is he?
There’s the sound of voices down the hall. It’s the rest of the Z-Team. You pay them a glance before turning back to him. “Feel better soon,” you say to Robert quickly, moving to the corner of the room and promptly disappearing into the shadows.
“Was that Phantom?” Punch Up asks disbelievingly, heading into the room with no hesitation.
“I think he’s actually put a dispatcher in here before,” Malevola reveals, walking behind him. To Robert’s growing horror, it looks like the whole team is here to visit him. “The one who said ‘ec cetera’.”
“A reasonable crash out,” Sonar agrees.
“So, how ya feelin’, champ?” Punch Up asks.
“Wonderful,” Robert dryly, clearing his throat again.
“Well, his sarcasm’s intact,” Prism announces, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not so sure about the rest.”
“Thanks, guys,” Robert says with a huff. He looks away. Despite how embarrassed he feels, it is nice to have visitors. To feel valued. “...Seriously.”
“Aw, you’re blushing.” Someone pokes his cheek; he glares over to find Invisigal standing way too close to his bed, a mischievous smirk on her face.
“Shut up,” Robert scowls. He maintains this expression for all of a few seconds, before the group’s shenanigans get him to crack a reluctant smile.
Despite Robert’s role as the ever-present dispatcher, he actually doesn’t get to see his team too often. A lot of the time, they’re preoccupied for most of the day—only returning to headquarters to rest before heading out on assignment again. He’ll spot them out of the corner of his eye sometimes, shooting them a wave before getting back to work.
Today, though, he’s particularly distracted. The second Robert sees you, he drops his headset and heads over to the break room you’re making a beeline for. Usually, that would be irresponsible of him, but considering the only thing his heroes are handling now is wayward pets or escalated conversations, he thinks he has a few moments to spare.
Robert stuffs his hands in his pockets and lingers in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe for a moment. He watches you move about the break room with practiced ease, grabbing a sandwich and taking a seat at the table in the corner of the room. After a second’s contemplation, he moves to stand across from you.
“I need to tell you something,” Robert says somewhat stiffly, his heart racing in his chest. You look up from where you’d been scrolling on your phone, giving him a flat look. You glance to your left and right, as if making sure no one is listening.
“You’re Mecha Man,” you then remark dryly, taking another bite of your sandwich and covering your mouth. “I know,” you say once you’re finished chewing.
“Oh,” Robert blinks.
“It’s fine,” you say dismissively, taking a few sips of your water. You look bored, uncaring. Robert isn’t used to reactions like that from his team. Most of them have strong opinions on him, and treatment oscillates from blatant suggestive remarks and flirting to outright hatred. He isn’t accustomed to being treated like he’s normal.
“You haven’t thrown me at a wall or anything, so… I guess that means we’re cool,” you add with a shrug.
“Cool,” he echoes, nodding in agreement. Good to know. “That… wasn’t what I wanted to tell you, though.” You raise an eyebrow, looking up at him again. Robert looks around again, before continuing to speak. “They were right. Well, Prism was. I’m bisexual.”
“Nice,” you nod. A brief pause. Robert stares at you expectantly. And you frown, seeming confused. “Why does everyone think I care? Do I give off homophobic vibes or something?”
“What?” Robert asks. “No. No. I just— I don’t know. I wanted you to know, I guess.”
“Ooookay,” you say, blinking at him. “Well. Cool. That changes nothing.”
“Ha,” Robert laughs. It’s an unnatural gesture, empty of genuine amusement. Because, truthfully, he does want it to change something. He wants you to see him as an option.
Instead he just falls quiet, heading back to his desk.
If he had remained a few moments longer, he would’ve seen the contemplative expression on your face.
DISPATCH no. 171
You
Flambae, I’m going to flame-broil you myself.
Flambae
(with a slight lilt to his voice)
Say less.
You
Shut up.
Prism
If I had a nickel for every time Flambe flirted with someone on comms, I’d be fucking rich.
Malevola
We all would be.
Flambae
Aw, come on.
Phantom, I saw you get assigned to that wayward cat in the tree the other day. If you’re gonna play sexy firefighter, you gotta give a guy some warning.
You(flatly)
Says the literal human fireball.
Robert
(firmly)
Enough.
Flambae
(teasingly)
What, getting jealous, Robby?
Robert
It’s Robert.
Flambae
(with a grin)
Maybe we’ll let you watch, if I’m feeling generous.
You
(scoffing)
There aren’t enough wayward cats in the world to distract me from what you just said.
Robert, send me off somewhere. Preferably far away.
Robert
(snapping back to attention)
I— Yeah, got it. There’s a baby trapped in a car two streets down.
You
Great.
Your line clicks off as you evidently go to handle the situation.
Malevola
Trouble in paradise.
Invisigal
(harshly)
Can everyone shut the fuck up?! I’m trying to focus.
Sonar
First time for everything.
Robert
This may be the only time I ever say this… but I agree with Invisigal. Back to work, everyone.
There are assorted groans and huffs. Robert focuses on dispatching the remaining heroes, before checking in on your progress. You rescued the baby a few moments ago; now you’re monitoring a nearby robbery. Robert moves to your private channel.
DISPATCH no. 171
Robert
So, you and Flambae, huh?
You
(scoffing)
He wishes.
Robert
Is he always so…
You
Flirty? Pretty much.
Robert
I can’t imagine he’s successful often.
It’s quiet. He ended that sentence as if he wanted you to reassure him. Did he want you to reassure him? He isn’t sure.
There’s the distant sound of breaking glass from your side of the call.
You
(huffing)
Stop distracting me.
Robert
You can multitask.
You
Don’t put that much faith in me.
You duck for cover and watch as the robber makes his way around the space.
I’m known to disappoint.
Robert
Haven’t failed me yet.
You huff under your breath, melting into the shadows on the opposite wall and appearing behind the robber’s shoulders. You’re quick to get him down to the ground, and he goes down with a groan. You keep a knee on his back.
You
We haven’t been acquainted for long.
Robert
Guess I’d better prepare for future disappointment, then.
You
Yeah, just maybe not today.
You get the guy’s hands restrained and then pull him to his feet, sending a wave to the camera in the corner of the room before disappearing into the shadows.
Robert turns off his microphone and sighs. It sounds more forlorn than he’d like.
Of course, Chase then pops his head up above the divider between their desks, and proceeds to tease him about it for several minutes.
INT. – Conference room, SDN office. Torrance, California.
Sonar leans back in his chair, one leg crossed at the knee. His head rests on the back languidly, as he twirls a pen around his finger.
Sonar
(in a mocking voice)
I’ve gathered you all here today…
A few of the other members laugh, but it’s slightly quieter than normal. The atmosphere is almost stifling. Ever since Robert and Blonde Blazer summoned the Z-Team for a mandatory meeting, things have been tense.
Robert himself stands at the head of the table, struggling to hide his restlessness.
He glances at the clock. 3:58 p.m. His eyes wander the table. Coupé, Sonar, Punch Up, Malevola, Flambae, and Golem are already waiting. Invisigal isn’t here, but she usually shows up late. The only one missing…
Like you heard him thinking about you, you emerge from the shadows in the corner. The minute hand hits the last slot. It’s 3:59 p.m. You eye the empty chairs for a long few moments.
Robert
(relieved)
You made it.
You
Hey.
You head around the table and take the free seat next to Prism, falling into it with a sigh.
Blonde Blazer
(calmly)
Does anyone know where Invisigal is?
A few head shakes and helpless looks. No one knows, apparently.
Chase
(huffing)
Good riddance.
Robert shoots him a half-hearted glare, before turning back to face the group. He’s been stalling for long enough.
Robert
(gravely)
I think we all know why we’re here. There’s been an information breach, comms channels intercepted… Shroud’s forces have intimate knowledge of our movements.
Sonar
(with a chuckle)
Intimate?
Malevola shoulder-checks him hard and he winces.
Robert
This is serious. One of you is leaking classified information to the Red Ring, and it’s endangering the rest of the team—and, more broadly, the organization.
We’ll be having conversations with each of you—
You
(interjecting)
It’s Invisigal.
The air falls to an uncomfortable tension, only punctuated by the ever-present hum of the fluorescent lights. Then, the room bursts into noise.
Punch Up
What?!
Prism
(amused as she bumps your shoulder)
You can’t just say that out of nowhere, dude.
The rest of the group seems just as skeptical. Several different conversations occur at once, sending the room into a cacophony of noise. Robert stares at you.
Robert
Why do you think so?
The room falls quiet.
You
She hasn’t used her inhaler in a while.
Your eyes are locked on Robert. He feels something like a shiver crawl up his spine at the prospect of having your undivided attention. It may just be the first time you’ve looked at him—really seen him, not as a mere prop to the team’s set, but as a genuine contributor.
You
The real inhaler, I mean. The one she has now is just tap water.
Robert
(with a frown)
Tap water.
(fingers tapping restlessly on the table)
What are you suggesting?
You
She took a deal from Shroud. To get new lungs, probably. That’s why she’s been able to sit here invisible this whole time.
There’s the sudden sound of shuffling footsteps, as an empty chair spins in a dizzying whirl. It’s all a blur, and when Robert’s eyes can process what’s happening, he finds Invisigal panting in the corner while you have dark shadows binding her arms and legs.
Invisigal
(furious)
I’m not with Shroud.
Robert hates that he notices, but Invisigal doesn’t even sound out of breath. Considering they’ve been here for more than five minutes…
You
Yes, you are. And you were there that night.
You then turn to look at Robert pointedly. And Robert’s heart sinks to his chest. He looks at Invisigal. It’s clear which night you’re referring to: the one when he was ambushed by Shroud, and the Mecha Man suit was destroyed. If Invisigal was there, that can only mean…
Robert
Is that true?
Invisigal
(turning on you immediately)
Hey, if anyone’s fucking suspicious, it’s you!
You freeze, seeming genuinely thrown off.
You
Me?
Invisigal
(looking at Robert imploringly)
You know it’s true, Robert.
She strains against the intangible bonds restraining her wrists.
InvisigalHe’s never around, always running off and avoiding everyone. We don’t know the first damn thing about him.
You
This isn’t about me.
(looking at Robert)
She’s trying to distract you. She was there that night, and she hasn’t denied it.
Invisigal
He’s a criminal, Robert.
Robert’s stomach stews in unease. He looks over at you, only to find you looking entirely unbothered by the accusation. In fact, there’s this slight quirk to your lips, almost like a smirk.
You
Sure, I’m a criminal, but I’m not a liar.
With a quick hand motion, you send something skittering across the conference table; Robert realizes that it’s Invisigal’s inhaler. It comes to a stop just at the edge, spinning at him mockingly. Robert picks it up and studies the label. The prescription is from several months ago.
You
Grab a CT scan if you’re still unconvinced. An asthmatic can’t hold their breath for five minutes.
And like a switch has flipped, Invisigal is suddenly in your space, reeling back to punch you in the face. You just barely manage to sidestep it, her fist going into the wall instead.
Invisigal
Fuck you! I’ll kill you, you stupid son of a bitch!
She twists and spits on you. You wipe your face off calmly. Superheroes from outside enter the room to detain Invisigal; they cart her out while she’s still spitting profanities and curses.
…And then it’s dead silent.
You
(turning to Robert and Blazer)
Does that solve your security problem?
It’s clear you’re not actually waiting for an answer, as you promptly sink back into the shadows and disappear. A tense silence descends on the space.
Chase
(huffing in amusement)
Well damn.
He pushes his glasses up his nose, begrudgingly impressed.
Guy’s got spunk.
Flambae
Fiery. I can work with that.
Robert
(flatly)
You are not working with anything.
Flambae
Why not?
Robert
Because you’re not.
Flambae
(picking at his nails)
You have a claim on him or something?
(looks up with a smirk)
Pretty sure he can do whatever he wants. Like me, for example.
Robert takes a deep breath in, out.
Robert
Shut up. Everyone, dismissed.
Flambae just grins.
Ironically, once Invisigal’s gone, the team functions much better. Robert hadn’t realized how much of a source of friction she was. Now that she’s absent, everyone gets along pretty easily. He can’t believe it: he’s lasted a few months with the Z Team—a feat no other dispatcher has ever accomplished. Blazer gives him a raise, he gets some more responsibility. It’s perfect.
Well. Except for one glaring issue: you. Namely, his feelings for you. Robert has no idea what to do with them. He doesn’t know if you even like him—you’re not really friends. You tolerate him as if he’s merely a coworker. And maybe that’s all you’ll be. But if there’s a chance that things could be different…
No use in daydreaming, though. It won’t happen. There’s no optimal time to confess his feelings, especially when they’re for a coworker. He only sees you at work, and he doesn’t necessarily want to ask you out yet. Again, it seems like you barely tolerate him.
Ironically, his opportunity comes when you get back to headquarters after apprehending a supervillain. Robert had been worried as he was monitoring the situation, but he left you to it. You tend to do better without his interference, he’s learning. And he didn’t want to distract you by suddenly throwing out advice in the middle of a battle. So instead he’s left to survey the damage, watching as you make a beeline for the breakroom habitually.
He’d almost be convinced that you’re fine, if not for the way you’re favoring your right side. Robert’s suspicions are confirmed when he sees you wince as you try and fail to grab something located on the lower shelf of the fridge.
When you manage to push yourself up, Flambae is standing there, leaning against the side of the fridge. Robert chooses to make his appearance then too, settling in the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest.
“You okay?” Robert asks, pointedly ignoring the knowing look Flambae shoots him.
“Just got nicked,” you respond dismissively, closing the fridge door. “It’s fine.”
It’s clear neither one of them believes you, but Flambae’s the one who leans in and pulls up your shirt to reveal the wound stretching across your ribs. He whistles. “Damn.”
You huff and pull away from him. Robert shouldn’t be satisfied by this refusal, but he is. Until he remembers there are more pressing matters at hand.
“That is ‘just getting nicked’?” Robert says disbelievingly. “You’re tracking blood everywhere.”
You look down, blinking blearily. “Oh,” you say. “Whoops.”
“I can cauterize it,” Flambae grins, summoning flames across his hand.
“Ha… please don’t,” you say helplessly.
“That’s definitely not necessary,” Robert agrees. “I’ll get the first-aid kit.” And if he seems particularly eager, oh well. He can’t remember the last time he’s had a chance to talk to you alone, without the entire team listening in or the weight of an unplanned confession on his shoulders. He’s not going to blow this.
Robert guides you to one of the empty on-call rooms, gently pushing you back until you’re sitting on the bed. Your hand is pressed to your side now, beads of sweat collecting at your neck and collarbones. You’re not showing it much, but you’re in pain.
“Gonna have to clean it first,” Robert says. He’s not sure if that remark is for his own benefit or yours. He decides not to think about it, instead unpacking the first aid kit and getting an alcohol wipe. “Ready?”
“I guess,” you say defeatedly. Robert looks up, something tugging at his heart when he notices the dark circles under your eyes, the exhausted slump of your form. As if you can sense him watching, you sit up straighter. You tug your shirt up, but the wound’s a bit too high up for the posture to be maintained.
“May need to take your shirt off,” Robert says, clearing his throat awkwardly and averting his eyes. You seem amused at his reaction, beginning to take it off before your face contorts in pain.
“I think I need help,” you admit begrudgingly.
“Sure,” Robert responds. “No HR violations here…” he chuckles flatly. He pulls your shirt up gently, careful not to graze you by accident. As he prepares the supplies and begins cleaning the wound, you tense up the moment the alcohol wipe hits your skin, hissing through your teeth.
“Sorry,” he says immediately.
“It’s fine,” you respond.
“So,” Robert starts, unable to shake off the intimacy of the moment. It’s just the two of you here, in this small on-call room at the office. He’s never seen you show much skin, never seen you very injured. This feels like a pretty big departure from how he usually sees you. “Invisigal was right about one thing: I don’t know anything about you.”
“I know,” you acknowledge, hands pressed to the mattress under you. You look at the wall across from you. “You have a file on me, I’m sure.”
“Well, yeah,” he admits, briefly pausing in his ministrations to give you an amused look. “That’s different.” He goes back in with the alcohol wipe one more time before discarding it.
“Just… tell me something,” Robert offers, rummaging around for the ointment in the first aid kit. “Anything.”
You frown, seeming to need a moment to contemplate the question. Your eyes flit about the room.
“My powers didn’t come around until I was nine or ten,” you begin. “I woke up for school one morning, opened the blinds, went to get dressed… and fell into the shadow my bed cast on the floor.”
“I didn’t know what was happening, of course,” you continue. “I must’ve been trapped there, in the darkness, for an hour or so. Screaming, yelling for help. My mom pulled me out.”
“That’s…” Robert breaks off. He doesn’t really know what to say. He was expecting a lot of things. Hell, he was expecting for you to refuse to surrender any information in the first place. He was definitely not expecting something that intense. “That sounds terrifying.”
“It was,” you agree. “But I got used to it. Obviously.”
“Good.” It’s quiet for a bit, as he puts some gloves on and applies the ointment delicately.
“You’re a bit too good at this,” you observe, noticing how practiced his motions seem. “Should I be worried?”
Robert laughs dryly. “No.” A beat. “Maybe.” He continues, applying the last of the ointment before discarding the gloves and heading to the sink in the corner of the room to wash his hands. You help him by holding the prepared gauze against your ribs, while he unrolls the adhesive and lays it over the wound as gently as he can manage.
“Most villains don’t think about the man behind the suit,” he admits as he unrolls the adhesive further, starting to wrap it around your torso. He glances up every few seconds to make sure he isn’t securing it too tightly. “They just want to destroy it.”
“You think you’ll go back to Mecha Man?” you ask. It’s far from the first time he’s been asked that question. But he finds himself genuinely considering it now, under your expectant gaze.
“Not sure,” Robert admits, wrapping the bandaging around one last time.
“You’re pretty good at the whole dispatching thing,” you remark, “if that’s any consolation.”
“Coming from you, that is a very high compliment,” Robert says, fighting off a smile as he ensures the bandaging is sticking to itself and won’t budge.
“I know,” you respond.
“All done,” Robert announces moments later, regretfully removing his hand from your side. You feel at the bandages experimentally, before looking over at him.
“Thanks,” you say with an awkward pull to your lips. You’re grateful for Robert’s assistance, though now that you think about it, the situation is kind of awkward. You’re just sitting here without a shirt on, and Robert was being so careful—almost too careful, as if he was wary of touching you.
“God, just kiss already, lads,” Punch Up huffs, walking down the hall as he evidently returns from an assignment. “You’re bloody unbearable.”
“Thanks for the input,” Robert says dryly. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’d better,” Punch Up says with a knowing look, before heading for the next on-call room to rest. “And don’t get the bed dirty!”
A disbelieving laugh crawls out of your throat before you can stop it, and Robert’s head whips around so fast it’s almost comical. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, lips parted in surprise. “Did you just laugh?”
“Uh… yeah,” you blink, amusement giving way to self-consciousness. You try to cover it up with sarcasm. “What, am I not allowed?”
The remark is promptly ignored, as Robert nudges the door mostly shut before heading over to you. “I’ve never heard you laugh before,” he says, hands in the pockets of his slacks as he considers you. He’s staring at you like he’s just seen an entirely new facet of your personality. It’s kind of weird. He looks… almost pleased.
Still, you feel the need to maintain what little remains of your dignity. “Well, maybe you’re just not funny,” you say defensively. The remark comes off as more rude than you want it to be. You wince internally.
“Wow,” Robert drawls. “And here I was wanting to kiss you.”
You’re staring at him like he’s just grown a third head. “You actually want to kiss me?” you say incredulously.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you this whole time,” he admits sheepishly. Robert scratches the back of his neck.
“Seriously?” you say skeptically. It’s kind of hard to believe that Robert would be attracted to you. You aren’t really… Well. You don’t think you’re a super stand-out person. You’re content with fading into the background—hell, that’s how you prefer to live.
“I’m serious,” he responds. He stares at you for several moments, watching you come to the conclusion that he’s being entirely sincere. Then there’s that slight quirk to his lips again, and he’s shifting his weight back and forth slightly, and you realize: He’s nervous. Robert Robertson is nervous.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he maintains. “But I wouldn’t mind an answer.”
It’s quiet for a moment. “You realize half of the team is in love with you,” you say, eyes searching his face. The words you want to say are trapped in your throat. Instead of accepting what is clearly true, your skeptical nature is forcing you to scrutinize this—until it eventually falls apart. And it will fall apart, because that’s what always happens.
“That’s an exaggeration,” Robert says dryly, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts.
“Not really,” you frown. “Blazer; Vis, when she was here; Waterboy, Phenomaman…” you continue, almost counting off on your fingers. Robert is a pretty popular guy around here: he’s companionable and friendly, dependable, a hard worker. It’s no surprise that he’s earned the attention of the office.
“But you like me,” you say disbelievingly.
“Yes,” Robert responds, something like amusement in his voice. It fades when he sees your expression, and he almost frowns. “Why is that hard to believe?”
“I don’t know,” you say helplessly. “I’m— I’m used to the shadows. No one’s supposed to notice me.”
And you wouldn’t know, but that resonates with Robert. Deeply. He feels like he’s spent his entire adult life trying to live up to the public’s expectations of him. He never chose Mecha Man; Mecha Man chose him. His father placed that responsibility on him without stopping to wonder if his son deserved more—more than patching himself up in a dark room, new wounds ripping old scars apart; rotting in a studio apartment while he tries to cling to the remnants of an old life. A life that was never really his.
A measured inhale. “Safer that way?” Robert asks quietly.
“Yeah,” you acquiesce, fingers jittering slightly as you smooth out a nonexistent wrinkle in the sheet beneath you. You don’t participate in conversations this much; you don’t talk this much. It’s a bit tiring, and it’s definitely nerve-wracking. No one stays this long. There’s a reason why you don’t linger: You don’t offer people the chance to get close. You keep everyone at arm’s length. And yet… here Robert is, standing there with bright eyes and a determined expression.
“Well,” he remarks, taking another step closer. “I notice you. Way too often, honestly.”
A breathless laugh crawls its way out of your chest. It sounds more like a scoff than anything else, but you can tell Robert still notices it. After a moment’s contemplation, you get to your feet so you’re standing right in front of him, eye to eye.
“Sometimes I think you’re the only one who bothers,” you say. It’s spoken quietly, but in the silent tension of the room, the words linger. A few seconds drag on, before you summon the courage to break the distance. There’s not much space between you now. Your hand moves almost of its own accord, as you reach out somewhat robotically and rest it on Robert’s shoulder.
“You don’t have to force it,” he consoles you, sensing you’re out of your element.
“No, I…” you break off. “I want to. I like you too.” And gods, what a mortifying thing to say, but it’s worth it to see the genuine happiness break through and rise on Robert’s face. “I just don’t know what I’m doing,” you confess in a punched-out breath.
“It’s fine,” he reassures you. “Just follow my lead.”
Robert then reaches out, his hand landing on your cheek. His gaze finds yours, giving you more than enough time to back away. You do nothing of the sort, and before long, he’s gently tugging you closer and kissing you. Your hand moves from his shoulder to the nape of his neck as you embrace him, and though you want to reach out with your other hand, you know the effort will just hurt your ribs. Robert seems cognizant of that too, as his hands don’t wander anywhere beneath the nape of your neck.
“Now, let’s… uh,” Robert stammers when you break apart, clearing his throat awkwardly. His cheeks are flushed pink, and he’s noticeably looking anywhere but your shirtless chest. “Let’s get you another shirt. Before I explode.”
Sometimes I write lines that even surprise myself. I wrote “follow my lead” and immediately went 😳😏 oh 😏😏
sigh... this is yet another installment of one of my favorite tropes: popular guy x the one who’s immune to his charisma... I have a Robert x SDN repair tech!reader idea that I want to get finished... sobs
thanks for reading! <3
check out my other works, sorted by fandom.
general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you @moss4ev3r @hottskull @bitterpoison
friendly reminder that i don’t give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!
Sitting in Nikolai's lap always guaranteed one thing. You were perched on his powerful thighs, his chest a solid wall of heat against your back, but the real focus was below. You tilted your head down, watching the hypnotic slide of his thick, flushed cock as it drove between your slick thighs. From your angle, it was a perfect illusion; his shaft disappearing and reappearing could have been your own, a foreign appendage that felt more right than any part of you ever had. The thought alone made your hole clench, a desperate, empty ache blooming deep inside you.
A low, knowing chuckle rumbled in his chest. He leaned in, his lips grazing your throat. "You like that, don't you, son?" The word was a spark, a possessive, filthy claim that made you whimper.
Your hand moved on its own, sliding down to wrap around his shaft as it pumped against you. Your fingers met his slick skin, stroking him in time with his thrusts. The feel of him, hard and hot in your palm, was intoxicating. You could feel every twitch and throb, hear the ragged hitch in his breath. It was a symphony of masculine pleasure, and it was all for you.
Your mind spiraled, imagining it was your own cock you were stroking, imagining the pleasure coiling in your gut was yours to claim. The fantasy was so potent that it pushed you right to the edge. You didn't even have to touch yourself; the sheer force of it crashed over you. A choked cry escaped your lips as your thighs clamped down, your whole body trembling as your release soaked your skin.
The sudden, tight pressure of your climax was all it took for him. Nikolai let out a guttural grunt, his hips stuttering as he followed you into oblivion. Thick, hot ropes of his cum painted the inside of your thighs, a wet, filthy testament to your shared depravity.
He was still breathing heavily when he spoke again, his voice a rough, satisfied murmur against your ear. "Didn't know you were one of those trannies," he said, the word a final, possessive brand.
And god help you, you loved it. A moan escaped from you and Nikolai only began to thrust again.
"Go on, son, enjoy your cock, show me how you play with your cock."
it has officially been 2 whole weeks since that night. you had walked home alone and didn't bother greeting anyone. you just went straight to your room and cried yourself to sleep. 'thankfully it's the weekend' you had thought to yourself when you got home. you didn't know how you would show up to school with a puffy, sore, face. let alone see rodrick.
so even though it had been 2 weeks since that night, it had been two weeks since you saw rodrick. well- technically not seeing him. every time you would walk the halls between periods, you would see him walking around as well except it was with some of his band friends or 'nerds' he would ask to do his homework. and every single time, you would get the hell outta dodge.
see him in the hallways? gone. the cafeteria? gone. the bathroom? gone.
by your locker? well, you purposely waited until you watched him leave your locker after he figured you weren't coming. you didn't care how pathetic it seemed to look, waiting for him to leave so that you didn't have to face him, but you just couldn't handle seeing him.
so here you were, at your locker after you literally watched rodrick leave- a small look of irritation written all over his face. this time he had waited for damn near thirty minutes, but you would wait it out as long as you had to.
grabbing your books from science class, you drop them into your bag along with a couple of pencils.
after cleaning up a couple of papers from your locker, you find one of rodrick's rings in the far-right corner. you recognize it from that one time you got it for him at a fair. during last fall where he dragged you out with him, just you two. picking it up, you examine it. the ring didn't necessarily match his aesthetic- it was gold with intricate patterns on it but he loved it. as soon as you won it for him he wore it ever since then, but now it sits in your locker.
untouched.
he must've dropped it in my locker throughout the week...
although, you couldn't make yourself leave it sitting in your locker collecting dust. so you dropped it into the side of your bag's pocket. but as you put your hand on the side of the locker getting ready to close it-
"why are you ignoring my brother?"
you jump and slam your locker out of fear and turn your body to the voice. your heart banging against your ribcage and your breathing starting to pick up. moving your head down slightly, you're met with rodrick's younger brother greg who has a hand on his hip and an interrogating look on his face. you arch your brow at him and squint your eyes as you try to figure out why he even asked you that in the first place.
"what the hell are you even doing- how did you even get in here? don't you-"
"go to the middle school? yes. but that's not what i'm here for. why are you-"
sighing you fling your backpack over your shoulder and start to walk towards the entrance doors. "yeah i heard you greg, doesn't mean i have to answer you."
you slightly cringe at how mean you sound but it wasn't like you wanted to be mean to the kid, in fact you really liked him- no matter how much he got on rodrick's nerves. but you weren't in the mood for his shenanigans today. or to be interrogated at all.
"just wait (name), please?"
stopping in your tracks, you turn around and lean against the lockers. "five minutes, i want to get home."
greg perks up at that and walks over to you. "well, rodrick's been moping around the house for weeks now. he doesn't even blast his music in the middle of the night anymore. why are you ignoring him?"
you make a face at that last comment and rub your fingers against your temple. "i'm not doing anything. he's the one who's been acting weird, maybe ask your brother greg." you finish as you turn to walk away.
"is it about the tape?"
what.
turning back around, your face for sure looks shocked because greg begins to speak again as if he's trying to explain himself. "i- i found it like a long time ago but he made me promise not to say anything to you," he pauses. "but if you want to know-"
"what's on it greg?"
he comically looks around making sure everyone is out of earshot before he turns back to you. "...it's a song. for you. about you."
he says the last part hesitantly and quieter than the rest. you feel that same burning sensation in your chest and the heat growing on your face. you wouldn't have guessed he would make a song specifically for you- but it made sense now.
sure you two had a strong friendship, stronger than any of the other friendships he has. and yeah there was that one time you two cuddled each other during one of your various sleepovers. or the time he wouldn't let go of your hand when you two went to go see a movie and walked back home at night- but it was cold so that's normal... right? that was just your guys dynamic.
...right?
"just talk to him? please? he gets on my nerves too but he's still my brother y'know?" and that was all you needed to hear.
tightening the straps of your bag you practically run down the hall and out of the doors. you had one thing on your mind-
talk to rodrick.
the sun was beginning to set now, and you eventually mustered up the courage to go over rodrick's house to talk with him. you did take the long way from your house to his to kill time and really kill your nerves, but you were in front of his house sooner than you wanted to be. you made sure to bring the ring that he had left in your locker as well, you wanted him to have it back.
no matter which way this conversation went.
you kick up the corner of the welcome mat on the porch and pick up the key that was sitting under it, taking note that his parents aren't here tonight either- again.
walking in, you don't hear rodrick's music blasting from his room. nor do you hear anything else throughout the house- it's really quiet. way too quiet.
but you make your way up the stairs anyways and see rodrick's door slightly ajar. but you don't just walk right in like you would've two weeks ago. not wanting to invade his space like you did with the tape. but you begin to feel your nerves eating away at you as you slowly raise your hand up to knock on his door.
however, before you can make the first knock, his door opens wider and he looks at you standing there with nervousness written all over your face. rodrick doesn't look shocked though, in fact he looks like he had expected you to be there. you look at him fully; he's in regular sweatpants and his hair is a bit messy but he's wearing the hoodie you gave back to him. the sleeves look wet and that's when you look at his eyes and notice how they have a slight red hue to them. you begin to feel a bit guilty.
"i didn't think you would come over today..." he begins, but he whispers it quietly. "come in?" he asks you as he opens the door wider and stepping aside for you.
you don't answer him, but you gladly walk in and plop down on his bed. his scent fills your nose, and you realize how much you had missed him. his room is messier than usual, his record player sat untouched, and some of his clothes were thrown out on the floor.
"don't mind the mess, i haven't cleaned up in a little bit," he says as he closes his door shut and sits right next to you on his bed. "how have you been?"
your lips quirk and you look at him at bit sadly because you know he's been crying and he's trying to ignore it just to check up on you. "good. i've been good-"
"i- itried talking to you but i haven't seen you around much and i didn't mean to make you upset either, but i didn't know what to do- and i wasn't ready to give it to you- but-"
"rodrick, calm down, okay?" you firmly say, stopping him from going on a tangent as you grab both of his hands that he was fidgeting with. his breathing was uneven, and you could see tears welling up in his eyes that he tried desperately to blink back. "it's okay, yeah?"
he shakes his head in agreeance and finally calms down after a couple of seconds. you let the room sit in silence as you continue to hold his hands, brushing your thumb over his fingers.
"i'm not mad at you, i never was mad at you. i think we just need to talk to each other," you say and you finally smile as he squeezes your hands back. "i apologize for going through the box, and for stealing your hoodies. i overstepped-"
"no (name), no. you didn't do anything wrong. i like when you wear my hoodies."
your eyes light up at that. "you do?"
"yeah, i uhm- i remember when you first started wearing my hoodies back in our freshman year and when i had asked you about it. you told me it helped you with your dysphoria so i liked how comfortable you were with me," he pauses. "so how could i be mad at you about that?"
you begin to feel your own tears well up in your eyes at his remembrance of you. huffing out a laugh as you squeeze his hands. "then what about the tape? i mean you kinda freaked out on me about it and i thought i overstepped a boundary."
rodrick begins to shake his head. "what? no, i just..."
silence returns to fill the room, but you patiently wait for him to get his thoughts together. he sits up straighter now and wipes the unshed tears out of his eyes. he grabs your hands again and looks you in your eyes now.
"i like you (name). i have for a long time now but i was scared because... well i didn't know if you would like me back and you're so cool- like my best friend- i just- i didn't want to lose that."
now, everyone knows that rodrick wasn't big on emotions. if something was truly bothering him, he would play it out on his drums or blast music until his ears bled, and his problems were gone.
but not with you.
no, with you he was real. he was tender, and he was willing to be vulnerable with you just like you were willing to be vulnerable with him.
"you'll never lose me silly," you begin. "i like you too, and i didn't tell you for the same reasons as well but i'm- different. so, i didn't say-"
"you're not different to me." rodrick states firmly as he cuts you off. "never have been, never will be. but i'm glad you uh- you like me back because now," he reaches over to his nightstand and pulls the tape out of the drawer. "i can officially give you this."
you can't help but have a goofy smile on your face. not only because of the way he reassured you but because now you have the tape you two were stupidly fighting over.
"oh, i have something for you too," you say as you pull out the ring he left in your locker. "this belongs to you."
he quickly put it on and stood up, pulling you into a tight hug. you two stood there for a long moment, just enjoying each other's presence. his hair smelled faintly of his coconut shampoo he used, and you could smell your own scent on his jacket that you always wore. pulling back, his hands found their way onto your hips as he held you in place, the sparkle now back in his eyes as he looks at you fondly.
"you know that was like my last resort, right?" he huffs out a laugh.
"you dropped your ring in their as a last resort?"
he scoffs. "well how else was i supposed to get your attention? you were hiding out on me."
"mm, i don't know. could've stopped by my house or came by ms. baxter's class-"
"okay that's not fair, you know she hates me."
both of you laugh at that and rest each other's foreheads against one another's. "...would a kiss work?"
"hm?"
"as a last resort, would a kiss get your attention?"
you slightly pull your head back, smirking at him. "wanna find out?"
he doesn't waste any time and grabs you by your waist and pulls you towards him, landing a kiss right on your lips. you kiss him back slowly, savoring the moment as much as you can. after a couple of seconds, you pull back and laugh as he tries to chase your lips.
"hm, looks like it did get my attention heffley," you whisper. "anything else?"
"well-"
"rodrick? are you home?"
you both quietly groan at his mother's voice echoing throughout the house. but before he goes to open the door and answer her, he grabs you from behind you neck and kisses you again. this time with more desperation and need. he lands three more small pecks onto your now bruised lips before opening the door.
"oh and (name)?"
dazed, but now in a better mood since that night two weeks ago you hum in acknowledgement. "i'm taking you on a date this weekend and asking you out properly. don't forget."
with that, he heads down the stairs to talk to his mom.
you feel your heart flutter and that weird feeling in your stomach when you first realized you had a crush on him. smiling to yourself you take off your hoodie and grab one of his out of his closet.
you lay on his bed, waiting for him to come back but not without planning what flowers you're going to bring him next weekend.
summary- finally home, the heavy weight of fear, regrets, and repressed desire spill over as he clings to you with the utmost desperation, as if you're the only thing granting him life. and you? got no clue what's going on. you're just happy your husband is home.
warnings/tags- trans man reader, some afab language used including clit and cunt, a couple of beautifuls alongside the handsomes, overstimulation, cockwarming, sleepy sex, somno maybe? you fall asleep while he's still inside, praise, emotional sex, crying, SO soft and loving, teasing, marking, aftercare, please let me know if i missed anything!!
word count- 7.3k
this all started because i wanted leon to beg you to cockwarm him. now this is my longest fic ever and my first time writing full sex scenes so tips are appreciated!! songs that inspired this are venus doom-him and mama saturn-tanerélle
the first thing you notice as you wake up is that you're not alone on the couch, the second thing is the arms wrapped around you holding you tight to a built chest, and lastly that leon, your husband who for the first time in his life refused to promise to come home to you, is finally back in your arms, warm and alive.
interlacing your fingers with the hand on your hip you bring it up to your lips gently, but you can't help the gasp when you see that the skin is completely clear, no longer marred by infection.
the gasp jolts him awake, eyes open and locked to yours within a second, but when he doesn't see any tension in your face, just amazement. it has him relaxing and taking a moment just to stare. he couldn't believe he almost missed this, almost didn't survive to hold his husband in his arms once again, so he can't help but stare at you, trying to sear the image of you into his mind.
fuck, he was a goddamn idiot, leon thought before breaking the short staring contest between you two by tilting his face up, lips meeting yours gently at first, but quickly turning desperate.
needing to feel the softness of your lips, the safety he feels with you, it makes him pour out all the conflicting emotions he has into the softness of your lips. how greatful he is that he gets to be with you again, how relieved he is to have you safe in his arms once more, something he never believed he would get again, that he didn't deserve to have, he thinks as his unoccupied hand comes up to cup your face.
you unfortunately have to pull away from each other to take in gasping breaths,, but as soon as his lips leave yours he's leaving a trail open kisses across your jaw and neck, breaths fanning across your skin. "fuck. sweetheart, i was wrong, i was so wrong" he mumbles into your collarbone with regret clear in his voice. his hands both move to your hips to pull you to straddle him as he lays flat.
his desperate kisses on your neck and shoulder start trailing even lower as you sit up fully on his lap and ask in a teasing tone despite your tears, unable to contain the joy spilling out of you "what were you wrong about this time darling?" you yelp as he playfully pinches your hip in retaliation turns to a chuckle while continuing to lavish his attention on your neck, able to feel the vibrations of it.
“well i was certainly wrong to leave you at home like this. what was i thinking when i've got a personal weighted blanket, it's even heated.” he smirks into your skin.
despite the teasing he remembers what he needs to tell you and sobers up, clearing his thoughts as he pulls back to look deeply into your eyes. pinning you in place with the intensity in the piercing blue gray as he tells you truthfully, "i'm sorry i didn't value my life as much as you do" one hand trailing up over your spine slowly with a featherlight touch, moving up to cup the back of your neck.
“and i'm sorry it took so long for me to realize that fact, that you're right, there's more to life, than.. than this shit, the atonement turned martyrdom. the people i couldn't save deserve someone to live and keep their memory alive even if it's only me" he tells you as his hand grips onto your neck, not pushing, just holding on like he's drowning and you're the last life float.
he's unwilling to hide from you after surviving raccoon city syndrome, something he thought was going to steal this life from him, the life you built together, the lives of the people he loves, his own life. thought it would rip everything away from him, destroying any semblance of peace he has, consuming everything and everyone in its path in the same way raccoon city has done for years.
but after meeting grace, he refuses to allow it to continue to let the fire keep consuming. he won't allow it rob him of everything he cares about, to continue to control how he feels about his own life. not this time.
“oh leon..” you choke out with a tight throat and tears welling in your eyes, “my love.. you've done so much more than honor their deaths and keep their memories alive.” your hands coming up to grip his face so he finally understands. “you have done your best to give them justice, respect, even in death. they would be so proud of you.”
you're both crying at this point, but you're not done talking yet, thumbing at the tears rolling down his cheeks as you continue, “i’m proud of you, for finally valuing yourself as much as you value others, for valuing your scars, your successes, your pain, as much as i do” you're honored at his vulnerability with you, it's something that you had vowed to never take for granted long before your marriage to the man.
laughing wetly through your tears you ask, "so who finally convinced you i was right all along huh? i need to thank them personally.” making him huff out a laugh to match, “oh you don't think i could've figured it out on my own, huh?” he jokes back with a croak in his voice.
he nuzzles into your hands on your face, rough stubble rubbing against your hands as he closes his eyes for a second, before the hand on your nape moves to gently brush aside your hands from his face. leaning up he brings you in for such a gentle, soft kiss that it has you melting back into his chest.
"the girl i mentioned before, her name's grace. she.. she showed me exactly how wrong i was. it's not that i didn't trust in you, i swear that to you. it's just that- it's one thing to know something, to change your beliefs on a psychological level, and it's another to see it, to see someone prove, without a shadow of a doubt. that what i was taught was wrong, that i was wrong." he tells you in a devastating tone, pain and frustration clear.
your tears start back up at his words and you lean in to press your forehead against his, eyes locked, sharing each others breaths you tell him, "well, i certainly need to thank her for that don't i..."
you trail off with a hum before bringing one hand up to card through his hair, "im so thankful that despite everything that's been taken from you that you're back home, safe. that you chose me and yourself over the mission, that's all i've ever wanted.”
as soon as the words leave your lips leon is leaning his chin up to connect his to yours passionately, only stopping to mumble in the small intimate space between y'all "how did i get so lucky..." before his mouth is back on yours, swallowing every noise he pulls out of you. tilting his head to a better angle for you to bite at his bottom lip playfully in the way he knows makes you smile into the kiss.
"i don't know either, it certainly ain't because you're an incredible person, even if you're incredible person that also happens to be a self sacrificing idiot" you try to pull back to say more but his big hands settle on your waist, keeping you in place.
he lets out a genuine laugh against your lips and you can't help but smile at as the sound vibrates through your own chest, but before you can get another word in his hands move to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he sits up and stands with you still on top of him, making you squeak at the sudden shift of being lifted up so easily.
"not so funny now is it?" he says as he leans back in to capture your lips, purposely ignoring your eyeroll and slick "i don't know.. it's pretty fun in this position" comment at his words, easily carrying you to your shared bedroom.
walking through the door he breathes out a reverent "fuck, i can't believe i'm here with you again.." as he places you down gently before he's immediately crawling on top of you. strong arms that just carried you next to your head propping him up as he runs his hands up along your sides while kissing you passionately, his stubble rubbing against your face in a familiar way you can't help to smile at.
his hands move to rest on your hips as he shifts his attention to your jaw. lavishing the skin there in open mouth kisses and the occasional nip you can't help but let a gasp out at every time. "god leon, more. i need more.. missed you so so much while you were gone, please don't tease." you say desperately, making him smile against your skin at the reaction.
he follows your directions without any complaints, mouth continuing down to your neck, then your collarbones, thoroughly marking the skin there with gentle bites that have your hands coming up to grip onto his shoulders.
then he breaks away, the hands on your hips moving to grip the bottom of your shirt to pull it off fluidly. he's enjoying the sight of your now exposed skin so much that he can't help himself as he bends down to leave soft kisses around your chest as he's unbuttoning his own shirt. when you arch up into his mouth though.. well he can't help the way the last few buttons pop off in his rush.
needing no further encouragement his skilled mouth moves to one of your nipples, tongue caressing circles into your skin that have your hands gripping him even tighter as his hands move down to the waistband of your boxers, incessantly tugging them down.
once he's done with that he switches to your other nipple as his now free hands come up to rub at and lightly pinch the one still wet with his spit. when he feels your moan more than he hears it he can't help but detach for a moment, taking in a shaky breath as he looks back up at you.
“don't worry handsome, i don't plan on teasing you, no..” he breathes out the last bit as his hands move down from your chest to settle on your waist, “no, you deserve better than that, i plan on worshiping you the way i should've been all along” he breathes out, sounding almost reverent.
your hips involuntarily jerk up at the words, reminding him that he's still half clothed. he grabs his belt buckle to undo it and his pants button, pulling the belt out quickly it gets stuck on a loop and you swear you heard him let out a little growl in frustration.
he decides to just push them down as quick as possible, not even bothering getting them further than half down his thighs before his mouth is back on your skin. kissing and mouthing down the middle of your stomach, creeping down your hip.
once he's hovering above his goal he moves to kneel down on the floor. using his grip on your hips to pull you further down the bed until you're settled on the edge of the bed with your legs thrown over his shoulders, plush thighs around his ears. he can't help himself when he starts nuzzling into one, tucking his nose in the crease between pelvis and thigh.
breathing in the scent of you makes his eyes flutter shut for a moment, completely content at being surrounded by you, your scent, your soft skin, your taste..
he's in the perfect position to lick a long stripe up your slit with a flat tongue to gather up the slickness gathered there, as you pleadingly whine at the feeling of him so close, but just not enough. he chuckles against your heat before focusing all his attention on your dick.
god, the feeling of his fingers gently keeping your lips spread as he starts to circle it with his tongue already has you gasping, but when he puckers his lip around it and he sucks you jolt up like you'd been electrocuted.
he's pulling out every trick to have you rutting up in his mouth, trying to bring you to your peak as quick as possible. your hands immediately go to his light gray-brown hair and tug which makes him open his eyes back up to lock onto your own with an intensity that has you clenching around nothing.
while maintaining eye contact his hand slides up your thigh to rest right above your mound, absolutely savoring the way you close your eyes and fall back against the beds.
it's an act of complete trust that has his heart clenching in affection for you and regret at his previous decisions. thanking every god there is that there was a cure and that he could enjoy being with you once again as he moves his head down further, fingers replacing his mouth on your dick.
the dual sensations of his soft lips on your most sensitive area, plus his stubble lightly scratching against the sensitive skin on your inner thighs has you arching up into him. you feel his tongue bullying it's way inside and you can't help your shiver at the way it feels like he's literally trying to pull an orgasm from you, his tongue working you open so well all you can do is move shaky hands down to grip his hair through the waves of pleasure.
you're so close that you're practically fucking yourself on his tongue, making leon chuckle into you before the hand still on your thigh moves to your knee, pushing it up and holding it there to keep you in place.
it pins you well but it also keeps you spread open for his waiting mouth, “be a good boy for me an stay still so i can enjoy my meal, yeah beautiful?” he mumbles out before diving right back inside of you, making you realize he ain't stopping until you cum on his tongue.
the feeling of your husband trying to get his tongue as far inside you as possible has you crying out in pleasure, eyes shut tightly as you start mumbling, “fuck-leon, so good, so good.. don't stop” you cry out desperately, grip on his hair tightening almost painfully as your hips twitch when you cum on his tongue.
as soon as he feels your walls sporadically twitching around him he moans directly into your pussy, the vibrations making your hips twitch while he works you through the orgasm with gentle but intense movements.
when you start tugging on his hair to give your poor dick a break he pulls back until he's leaning his head against your thigh, leaving gentle kisses on the skin there while you pant out, trying to catch your breath.
“thank you gorgeous, you taste..” he takes a long breath in to keep him from losing track of his thoughts so quick, “you taste so amazing, sweetheart. i dreamed about this, about you every time i closed my eyes while i was gone” he admits.
you prop yourself up on your elbow as the hand in his hair scratches his scalp softly, him leaning into your palm with his eyes half closed on instinct, “i know handsome, you did so well, coming home to me safe and healthy..” as his eyes open fully at your words when you give him a teasing smile, “now show me how happy you are to be home.”
he pulls back from your touch with a small smirk on his lips, “don't mind if i do” which makes you groan and fall back in dramatic exacerbation even though you started it.
but when he moves to pull away from you, even though you know it's just to climb onto the bed to join you, you can't stop the way you whimper so sadly at the loss of his presence.
it has him rushing back to join you, laying on his side next to you as he cups your face softly, turning it to face him. “hey, hey, it's okay… i'm not going anywhere, ii promise i'm right here, just let it out..” he whispers out soothing words in between the two of you.
you don't know why, but when he pulled away.. you were afraid you'd look up and see that this had all been a dream. see that this time, this mission, he didn't come home to you. because in reality he almost didn't. it's finally hitting you like a ton of bricks now that you're not aimlessly filling your days as you desperately hope he's gonna come back to you.
thinking back to the memory of your anxiety when he didn't finish his half of the phrase you say every time he leaves you, “come back safe” “always, got very important business to finish here” with a smirk on his lips, but this time he just pulled you in for a hug and walked out the door without meeting your eyes.
you think about the fear that gripped you when you stopped getting updates from sherry that all was well, the way your stomach sunk further when you think to yourself if she'd even be able to tell you, if anyone would be able to tell you, given the nature of his work. then about your relief at waking up in his arms, the joy you felt seeing his hand no longer covered in spidering black veins, of having him here and home and safe.
you start sobbing uncontrollably, shifting to your side as you curl in on yourself, feeling lightheaded from the different emotions. the pain, anger, depression, and relief.
leon had been bracing himself for this since he had gotten home, he knew the stress would take a toll on you. stress that would've only multiplied if he didn't return, he thinks regretfully, wishing desperately he could take away the pain he's caused you.
he knows he was wrong, and he doesn't plan on ever leaving your side again. “shh, it's okay i've got you, i'm still here, sweetheart.” he says with tears welling up in his own eyes as he pulls you in. your body is shaking with sobs as you curl into his chest, gripping on to his arms and back like he's gonna disappear at any moment. “i know.. i know, i promise i'll always come back to you.”
“but you almost didn't, you almost didn't come home. you didn't promise me you'd come back to me when you left, you left without promising me leon!” you get out in between sobs, hands weakly smacking against his chest as he pulls your shaking body fully to his, bringing you into a tight hug.
he rests his forehead against your own as icy blue eyes meet yours, locking you both into a moment of intimacy. his hand cupping your jaw moving to brush your hair back as he quietly admits, “you're right, and i am so, so sorry for that sweetheart.” his brow furrows a bit, “i thought.. actually- it doesn't matter now.”
he pauses for a moment, jaw clenching in resolution, “it doesn't matter, because what i thought was wrong, so so wrong.” his thumb strokes underneath your eyes, wiping the tears falling because of him. he swears to himself again he'll never do this to you again.
“and i promise you, if you'll give me the chance i will spend every single day of the rest of my life making up for the mistake of making you go through that. i can't erase the fear i caused you but i swear, i'm gonna do everything i can to atone for it..” he tells you with complete sincerity shining through.
you close your eyes, leaning into his hand as he wipes away the fresh tears spilling out. with a tearful voice you ask desperately, “god leon, you cant just- what happened out there? i'm so, so glad to have you home, but when you left you looked like you were headed for the gallows. i'll never forget that look on your face, but now you're here a-” your eyes flutter open to study his face.
what's staring back at you is the honesty in his eyes, his bandaged injuries on display now that his standard issue white shirt, that the dso has thousands of, is gone. the way he looks like he actually rested, no longer chronically tired with dark circles under his eyes the way you've gotten accustomed to. the way he's no longer shaking with coughs from raccoon city syndrome that got worse by the day.
“now you're here talking like a man who's seen the light, and i don't.. are you okay?” you admit, concerned and overwhelmed by the sudden change in his actions.
“i'm doing what i should've been from the beginning. i am so fucking sorry it took me so long to realize that my shit wasn't just affecting me, but our relationship and you.” he clenches his eyes shut, tears spilling out freely. “and i swear to you that i'll tell you everything that happened..” his arm around your torso squeezes you tighter to him, “.. but i need to just be with you right now” he begs you in a voice tight from tears.
the sight of leon -someone who has survived some of the most awful things, dealt with monsters both human and BOW so terrible that they haunt him even now- crying and begging to just hold onto you has your eyes softening.
your lips meet his in a sweet embrace as you nudge at his left shoulder, encouraging him to lean back flat. as soon as he complies you're crawling up to straddle his waist as you lay your entire body down to rest on his chest.
when you're settled comfortably he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you in tighter like he wouldn't ever get the chance again. you just chuckle against his warm skin as your hands come up to bury themselves in the at the nape of his neck, absentmindedly twirling the hair there.
one of the arms around you pulls away to grasp your chin, tilting your head until he's able to reach your lips. the soft touches quickly become heated when he groans into your mouth, loving the way your hands had moved to start scratching at his scalp.
it was everything to him, the obvious care in the gesture soothing his overworked, stressed mind that was only made worse in wrenwood, and especially.. after.
it has him leaning into you with more intensity, more desperation, kisses turning from intimate and loving into pure need for one another, the need to be closer, to be together.
when you have to pull away for a breather you don't go far, panting against the stubble of his jaw in between the kisses and nips you leave on the skin there, intent on marking him in the exact same way. you leave a trail all the way down his neck, and when you get to the crook of it you nuzzle into it with a smirk on your face before you open your mouth and bite down.
leon can't help the way he jolts under you, arching up into you as a groan gets ripped from his chest at the possessiveness of the action. it has him letting out a breathy “fuck, baby…” as his hands move to grip your hips like a lifeline.
you're smiling when you pull back, soothing over the dark mark with your thumb as you sit up to stare at the mark with satisfaction. it has you biting your lip as you grind your bare cunt against him, making the both of you groan at the smooth slide from your wetness.
you lean back to grab at his cock, giving it a couple quick pumps before you start to guide the blunt head inside you. the feeling of your wet heat so near has his hips jerking up, but instead of entering you he puts his hands on the underside of your thighs.
his big hands are holding you up, effortlessly stopping you from sinking down while his gray-blue eyes are staring up at you with concern. “wait. sweetheart, you only just stopped crying.. i don't think w-”
you quickly shut that shit down, “leon. i'm in my husbands lap, naked, grinding down, and trying to get him inside me. i am enthusiastically consenting.” you tell him with a playful roll of your eyes, unable to contain your smile.
“plus…” you trail off as your hands drift across the curve of his pecs, “i thought you said you'd do anything to show me how sorry you are and make it up to me.. promised you were gonna take care of me leon..” you say with an exaggerated pout on your face.
your teasing has him tilting his head back with a groan as he gives in to you, hands gripping your thighs even tighter before he lets go. “i suppose i did, didn't i..” he tries to give you a ‘disapproving’ stare that just looks more like a pout and the sight makes you smile wickedly, looking like the cat that got the cream as you start to sink down.
the stretch has you gasping out and clawing at his chest, erring on the side of too much. “you're almost there sweetheart..” he encourages while his warm hands run up your body. moving to cup your chest and thumb over your nipples as you settle down on his pelvis, taking a moment to just breathe.
it don't matter how many times you've taken your husband, the way he fills you up perfectly always steals your breath.
while you're getting used to the feeling you start rutting against him slowly, hands trailing down his chest down to his muscular stomach. you watch in interest at the way the muscles tense and twitch under your touch before you plant your hands there to give you more stability as you give a few quick, shallow bounces.
you quickly settle into a rhythm where on each downward stroke you're letting out a keening whine from the way he stretches you out, cock bullying your cervix out the way to make more room for him. you can't help but think about how well he fills you up, and you're not the only one.
“shit… look at you handsome..” he lets out a groan as you clench down harder at the praise, “taking me so goddamn well” he encourages, moving his strong hands underneath your ass to do most of the lifting for you once you had set a comfortable pace, “this dick was made just for you, i was made just for you” he murmurs out with a look of adoration on his face.
those loving, damn near heart eyes leon is aiming at you sends a jolt through your body. it has you sinking back down as you grind yourself against him, chasing your own high. your jaw drops open in a silent scream as the new angle has him rubbing directly against your g spot.
with his hands no longer lifting up your hips one moves to your lower back, trailing it up your spine with a featherlight touch that has you shivering against him. his hand stops at your nape, cupping the skin there and rubbing along the muscle with his thumb as he gently pulls you down until you're laid back across his broad chest.
you tilt your chin up to connect your lips, tongue tracing at his bottom lip before you bite down. his chest rumbles with a groan as his other hand drifts down to rub against your dick. the jolt of pleasure has you gasping into the kiss with your hands reaching up to grab onto something, anything. they end up falling on strong shoulders as leon moves his hips up to meet your mindless rutting.
your nails bite into his skin, leaving shallow little crescents that turn into long red stripes from clawing at the skin as you lock up around him. you let out a moan of leon's name directly into his mouth, hips still rutting down through the aftershocks.
the intensity of your orgasm has you falling against his chest, cunt still twitching around him. you're absolutely boneless on top him, panting into his sweat damp skin while his hands move to cradle your face. encouraging you to face up towards him he strokes your cheeks on either side as he asks, “how're you doing handsome? you done?” with full sincerity.
you lovingly roll your eyes at him, moving to bite at his hand which he pulls away with a fond chuckle. it moves to trace your temple and push your hair away from your equally sweat slicked skin softly as he gives you a moment to gather yourself.
leaning in to his touch you let out a hum of consideration before you tease, “are you done, old man? i mean- it's okay if you are! i know how back pain can be at your a-” you're cut off by your own laughter as he moves to flip your position until you're the one under him.
leon takes a moment to swallow thickly as he brackets you with his forearms. you're smiling so brightly, so trusting underneath hands that have killed things you couldn't even comprehend. things he kills specifically so you don't have to comprehend the horrors that created them.
it steals away his breath for a moment, how could he ever consider the possibility of leaving you to fend for yourself when he knows exactly what's out there?
as if you can read his mind, or more likely the sad look on his face leon don't even realize he's got going on, your hands reach up to grab his face like he did to you before. except when you do it you shake his head back and forth, trying to “forcefully” shake the thoughts out of his head.
when he huffs out a laugh and relaxes you stop messing with him, happy to remind him that theres no other place you'd rather be than trapped between your husband's arm, surrounded by him in every way.
his eyes pierce into yours as he lines himself up and pushes into you again. even when your own close at the feeling of fullness after the sensitivity of your orgasm- you know he's watching. you can feel his eyes on you, studying your reactions as if he were worried about missing out on a single flicker in your expression.
when he sits back up he sets a slow, deep pace while his hands trail down your body. when they reach your thighs he guides them into the exact position he wants, one leg over each shoulder as he leans back in to kiss you.
he's got you in a fucking mating press. it's got your eyes rolling in the back of your skull with the new angle he's hitting. his every stroke is rubbing against your g spot while he's got your knees fully pinned to your chest. he moves to catch your lips and pull you into a heated kiss, nudging your legs further up as his hips pick up the pace.
you break away from his mouth with a sharp gasp, unable to focus on his lips as you desperately try to catch your breath. every thrust is pushing you closer and closer to the edge, you just need-
leon nuzzles in to your neck and chuckles as he kisses up to your ear so he can whisper, “all this for an old man like me, handsome?” ending with a teasing nip against your lobe. it has laughter bubbling up between moans as you let out a breathless, “only for you.”
it has him dropping his forehead to your collarbone with a groan as his hips twitch up against your fluttering cunt. he moves a hand to stroke your dick as he starts to mindlessly mumble against your sweaty skin, “you feel so good around me. fuck, im going to cum.”
his panting breaths turn into wrecked whimpers, steady pumps into jerky back and forth motions as he finally spills inside you, filling you with thick ropes of cum. he's still jerking you off in between twitchy thrusts when you clench so hard around him and scream as you cum around him.
it has his jaw dropping with a punched out moan while he works you through it, stretching both of your pleasures out. he don't stop until you're both teetering on it being actually too much, enraptured with the way your walls are milking him until he's bordering on painful over-sensitivity.
that third orgasm has you melted into a puddle beneath your husband. between the praise, his warmth filling you, and his reassuring presence completely surrounding you, you're completely blissed out.
as you catch your breath you reach your hands into his hair and drop your legs from his shoulders to pull him down into a loving kiss. you're smiling against him, about to pull away to tease him when you taste something salty and feel wetness on your face. concerned, you try to pull back from him, but he stubbornly chases your lips with his own, letting out a desperate mumble of, “wait-please..” against your lips.
he takes in a shaky breath through his nose as he pulls out of you slowly, before falling to the side of you and pulling you into his chest. with thick arms protecting you from the rest of the world he confesses, “i.. i can't explain everything without putting you in serious danger.” he says with genuine remorse.
“what i can say is.. it was always my life on the line for theirs. it was.. the only way i could protect the people around me. with sherry, i.. they were going to-” he cuts himself off sharply, taking a deep breath to center himself again.
he clutches you even closer as he confesses, “taking this job is-was the only way i could keep sherry away from those.. shit.” he clenches eyes shut for a moment to think about what he can share.
“it was up to me to keep her safe. claire absolutely tried her best, but she was even younger than i was. i couldn't put that on her. i had to keep sherry safe” he tells you as tears start to well up in those gorgeous blue eyes you love so much.
“but when i met grace, and then emily- it made me realize how far i've come since then, how far we've come. i'm no longer the young rookie that's trying to save everyone yet unable to actually save anyone. i've got colleagues, friends, a family to help me protect what matters.” his hands trail down your arm to grip your own, pulling one to his lips he leaves a kiss on the center of your palm.
“and i am so fucking sorry i took that for granted. i was so consumed with everything i'd done wrong that i couldn't see the things i'd done right until i almost lost everything..” he kisses your hand again before letting it fall so he can cup your face, gently rubbing away the tears falling down your flushed cheeks.
“and i am so lucky to have an opportunity to be here to tell you just how wrong i was, how sorry i am for everything..” his voice cracks at the last bit, eyes closing in shame at his own actions.
it has your eyes softening even further, staring at him with an enamored look, “leon.. i'm the lucky one. you do so much, giving everything to come back home to me, you don't even realize how much you do.. plus….” you trail off as your tone lightens, a small smile on your lips, “i'm the one getting to watch my big strong husband tell me how wrong he was, and how desperate he is to prove he's so sorry for doubting his absolutely perfect husband.” you tease, desperate to fix the sour mood and pull a huff of laughter out of him.
“but seriously.. i'm proud of you, you know? you been mak-” you're cut off by your own laughter when leon reacts to your praise by dropping his head to hide it in the crook of your neck.
he starts leaving kisses on the deep red marks he left there previously as his hips start rutting up into your own. his hands move, pulling one of your thighs up and over his hip so he can grind his cock teasingly along your soaked slit, letting out a wrecked moan against the slick skin of your neck.
you let out an amused lil hum and move your hands to thread through his hair as you ask innocently, “what is it dear?” you can feel it when his mouth pulls up into a smile as he lets out a groan of defeat at your teasing words.
“you know what you did, what you do to me…” he mumbles out while his hand trails down to rub your clit, hips gently pushing back up into you.
when he's fully sheathed inside you he stills, pulling his face out from your neck to ask, “this alright, handsome? if n-” he checks in with you so sweetly.
it's one of the many reasons you're in love with the man, you absolutely adore how he treats you with so much consideration.. but right now?
“leon.” you deadpan, interrupting his question before it's even fully out. you refuse to let him stop on your behalf when you are exactly where you wanna be, needing him just as desperately as he needs you.
you need him right now actually, and you emphasize that point by grinding up against him, making yourself moan out when it pushes him even further inside.
“got it..” he chuckles out in reply, but it quickly turns into a moan when you clench down on him in retaliation. his head dips back into your neck, moving to mark your collarbones and chest in the same way he did your throat and jaw, as his hand on you clit starts to move in slow, circular motions.
every time you grind your hips against his he pushes up to meet your movements, encouraging you to fuck up onto him as you use his cock to chase your own orgasm.
while you're lost in your own pleasure he's moving his head back to stare down at you intently, almost needing to catalogue every single one of your gorgeous expressions.
“thank you” he says in a low tone, not wanting to break the blanket of silence that had settled over you both, only interrupted by breathless gasps and moans.
you hum out in confusion as you open your eyes, only for them to immediately meet his own that’re already intensely focused on your face.
“i just.. needed this. the closeness, you. thank you.” he chokes out in a rough voice. he's not embarrassed at needing you, and he never would be. he's just embarrassed at how much he needs the comfort you bring him. the comfort of being taken care of, valued, everything he's not allowed when he's on the clock.
“of course, my love. always. i will always be here to give you the closeness and the care you deserve, leon..” you trail off as your hands move back to his hair, fingers absently twirling the soft locks there.
he moves to capture your lips with his own passionately, humming into the kiss when your hands grip him even tighter, pulling at his hair. he gasps into your mouth at the twinge of pain as his hips buck up into yours.
the movement has you smirking against him, encouraged by the reaction. but the smirk is quickly wiped from your face when leon moves his hand to trail between your bodies in retaliation.
when his hand touches your cock your expression crumbles, hand reaching down to grab his forearm. your nails dig into the skin there, unsure if you want to push him away or pull him closer, you're so sensitive from your previous orgasms you almost can't take it.
“yeah baby.. just like that..” he murmurs hungrily into your mouth before pulling away from your lips just enough to get out, “you're so good for me handsome.. just one more for me? yeah?”
his hand starts moving even faster against you, and when your jaw drops in a silent scream he completely breaks away from the kiss. needing to see the way you tense and shudder through your orgasm as your nails dig into his forearm hard enough to break the top layer of skin.
too much, it's too much, you feel like your grip on leon is the only thing keeping you tethered to your body. all you can do is hold onto him as you pant out, coming down from the intensity.
but when you do catch your breath, blearily blinking your eyes open, you can't help but notice that leon hadn't cum. you make a questioning noise as you try and grind your hips down on his still hard cock, but he stops your movements once again.
he brings his soaked hand to wrap around your hips and keeping them still, “wait.. i- can we stay like this? please..” he begs you breathlessly, fingers digging in to your skin in desperation as he finally asks for exactly what he wants.
in response you just relax into his chest with a hum of acknowledgment, too tired to actually reply. you can feel his chest rumble against you in a low chuckle when you nuzzle the top of your head against his chin, trying to burrow into him even deeper despite there being no room left between you.
the pure intimacy of your positions, skin to skin, wrapped up in each other, while he's still inside you, has you shivering against him. eyes fluttering closed again as you listen to the steady thump of his heartbeat, the same heartbeat you can feel.
the thought of falling asleep like this, with the strong pulse underneath and inside of you.. it has you unconsciously clenching down against him despite the sensitivity.
it has leon letting out a wrecked whimper into your hair, the hand not moving back and forth against your hip comes up to bury itself there. when he starts scratching your scalp with gentle movements he can feel the way you melt even further into him, letting out a content sigh at being so completely surrounded by the other man.
leon though? leon stays up, watching the steady rise and fall of your back, enjoying being able to feel the way your breathing evens out by the puffs of warmth against his chest… and especially enjoying the way he's able to feel your slick walls subtly clenching around him even while completely relaxed against him.
he is absolutely basking in the feeling of being home, in bed, with his husband safe in his arms. he refuses to ever think about giving up his place beside you again, not caring if that makes him selfish.. after everything he's been through, there's absolutely no place he’d rather be.
