SUMMARY : When Robert comes back home at night after another hardworking day of dispatching, he wants nothing more than feel you in every way his sore body can.
TW : afab!reader, somnophilia, unprotected sex, sleepy sex?? I don't know if this is even sex guys what, groping, cockwarming hm, established relationship (married), there isn't too much here i'm so lame bye...
A/N : Nobody requested this okay... It all comes from my brainrotted head, i have nothing to say besides apologies for disappearing again omg.... Enjoy !! MASTERLIST
Spending time home sounds like a luxury to Robert in every aspect his tired mind can think of, and spending time with his girlfriend? God, only the elite must be able to do that!
So when his hand meets the cold steel of the doorknob that connects to the door of your home, he feels this is how Heaven actually must be like.
"I'm home," robertson announces, tired, gravelly voice mixed with the loud noise of the door closing behind him with a click as a witness of the arrival of your love β lips lifting in a closed smile when he hears your padded steps down the stairs, your feet were always cold in the early winter, and socks were like angels sent from above for your poor, shivery self.
After greeting him with a warm hug and a peck to his jaw, Robert's arms find comfort in the dips of your waist, letting you guide him backwards until the back of his knees collide with the chair at the dinner table β where hot, freshly made food waits for him to devour on top of the furniture built with polished wooden.
"All of this for me?" he asks with a smile after sitting down on the chair, lazy eyes raking over your soft face when he sees the dreamy look etched over your shiny eyes. "This of fit for a King, my love. Thank you so much."
You give him the pleasure of hearing your giggles, acting like a teenager in love when Robert takes you hand to press a chastΓ© kiss to your knuckles. "No problem, sweetheart. You deserve all of this."
You both eat in a comfortable moment, chatting about eachother's days, the weather, the mention of having to pay some bills and run the errands soon, purely domestical talk a normal, happy married couple would have the pleasure of having in the privacy of their home; the space where every marriage has to occupy together and forever. It's something Robert never imagined for himself when he was still Mecha Man, but now? He's deeply grateful for this grand opportunity, to be the man that gets to spend his last days alongside a woman as soft, but Incredibly strong and independent as you.
When dinner's over and both of your stomaches are full and happy, Robert takes care of the dishes in the sink while you clean up the table and rearrange stuff to the place they belong to in the kitchen β nothing's too perfect, condiments not organized by brand or alphabetic letters, just accomodated enough to show people actually live here and give these things daily use. When a marriage is loving, the house shows how alive you both are, in many different ways you've noticed over the years together.
Your combined steps echo gently in the stairs when you walk up alongside Robert, the loving space of the main bedroom enveloping both of your bodies; indicating the start of winter holidays, and with that, a well deserved rest for you both.
The routine is the same old, Robert changing into pajamas that look like they could easily belong to a victorian youngling, and your body finding comfort in the pajamas you may or not have chosen meticulously to be your companion for the night. When your weight dissipates under the inviting mattress adorned with covers, sheets and pillows that own a mix of both of your scents; a sense of contentment fills your lungs, a relieved breath sliding out of your lips until your husband's arm acts like a hook to extract you towards his side.
"You look so lonely over there," he says, tilting up your head to kiss the crown of your hairline. "don't you want to be close tonight, hm? I don't want your legs to shiver like a chicken's again, honey."
At his almost mocking words, you shy away from Robert β nuzzling into his chest with a pink hue already forming on your cheeks by the mere reminder of your little condition. He decides not to bother you again, at least for a little while, finding solace in petting your hair.
It's too late when Robert decides he wants to stick his lolli in your pop; peering down to find you drooling all over his pillow instead of your own one a mile away. He sighs, hand drifting down to pull down his pants with until his already throbbing length swats his abdomen, smearing the precum he would usually smear across your face, but oh well. He can never have what he wants, it seems.
The tired man briefly remembers you giving him consent to indulge in sexual activities if you ever happened to be asleep, still, Robert feels a deep need to ask just once again. Nudging you gently, the question slips out, and your reply is nothing but dismissive.
"Uh-huh." Uh-huh, okay. He should ask again, but Robert really doesn't want you to smack his head against the bedframe, so with lazy movements β the drooling tip of his cock finds the entrance of your tiny pussy after he slipped off your panties just enough.
When he's balls empty inside your guts, the man shivers visibly, hands shooting out to grip your hips as gently as he's humanly capable right now, he doesn't want to move, he doesn't feel like moving, he won't move, not when you're already sucking him in like a hungry vacuum cleaner. So Robert's lips purse, feeling nice and snug inside your silkened walls, and it's enough for his tired head to register the moment as the perfect time to finally sleep after tossing and turning for 10 minutes.
Hissing when you involuntarily squeeze around him with a golden grip, his hips jerk forward with a slow smack. "Wow. W-when did i order a sexdoll as a wife...?"
