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he’s all sunshine and sweetness — wide shoulders, pink hair, the kind of boy who helps old ladies with their bags and says “bless you” when people sneeze.
and he has no idea that every time he hugs you (tight, arms low, cheek pressed to your temple), he’s giving you another reason to lose your mind when you’re alone.
because he’s big. he’s warm. and he doesn’t pull away when your thick thighs brush his or when your soft belly presses against his abs.
you try to be normal. polite. sweet.
but then there’s him, stretching beside you in a tank top, moaning about how sore his muscles are. tossing his hoodie off like it doesn’t drive you crazy. and laughing — always laughing — in that boyish, god-help-me way that makes you think about things you shouldn’t.
like riding his thigh.
or sitting on his face until you cry.
or letting him hold your wrists while he pushes his big, meaty cock into your weeping cunt.
“you okay?” he asks one day, blinking those honey eyes at you.
no. you’re not. you’re soaked and sinful and ruined just from looking at him.
but you smile.
you nod.
because you’re a good girl.
and good girls don’t beg to be split in two by their best friend.
i haven’t posted anything in what feels like a decade. take this drabble i’ve been holding in my arsenal.
cw: rough but passionate sex! makeup sex; exes; p in v; clothes tearing, hickeys; biting; squirting; creampie; just yearning in the most extreme forms; aftercare + fluff.
“You missed me. I know you did,” he lowly rasped into your ear.
“Shut up,” you whined, squirming into his hold. He had so much power over you; it was shameful to admit. Even after the time apart, your body instinctively curved into his larger one like a puzzle piece finding its match.
“Aw, you think you can tell me what to do?” he teased, before reaching to the hem of your baby tee, ripping it down the middle and leaving your breasts exposed. “That’s cute.”
Your mouth was agape, “That’s one of my favorite tops!”
“Was. And close your mouth, before I get ready to stick something in it,” he threatened before tossing you onto the bed like it was nothing.
You pulled your thighs closer together, steadying yourself on the bed as you looked up at him. This was embarrassing — your lips swollen and puffy as you looked up at your ex who had kissed your whole lip combo off. He quickly snatched your shorts and panties off, throwing them to the wall with reign over your body as if you two were still a pair.
“Open these fucking legs,” he said as he pulled himself out of his pants, “you know I hate when you do that. No need to act shy.”
Despite what he said, you covered your face with your hand. “Why do you act like this? Haven’t you learned that talking to me crazy leads to breakups?”
You should’ve known it was coming. For him to forcefully open your legs with his rough hands on your knees. You whimpered when he did it, and again as he quickly grabbed your hand and pulled it down from your face, pinning you down to the mattress.
“You’re trying to make me angry, aren’t you?”
You were left doe-like after he uncovered your eyes, reveling in the state of his physique that you missed so much, even if you wouldn’t admit it to his face.
“Only fucking thing I’ve learned is that talking to you the way you deserve ends up with me between your legs. Like right now,” he said near a growl.
You could’ve trembled at the feeling of his hard cock slapping down against your stomach. He held it by the shaft, looking down at you as he tapped it against your belly again, then moving it aside as he looked at your glory.
“Fuuuck,” he dragged. He trailed his cockhead across your slit, and his precum mixed with your wetness made it shine. “It’s glistening for me, baby. You’re so fucking loyal.“
“Oh, hush,” you retorted, face feeling warm as you looked away with an eyeroll.
He lowered toward you, and what you expected to come out as a taunt in a teasing tone, instead came out as a firm demand. “Admit it. This pussy’s still mine.”
You’d been tracking the time: 1 month, 17 days, and 13 hours since you called it quits. So it had been more than that since you last had been pleasured by somebody other than your vibrating friends that were in your nightstand drawer.
However, you still pouted as he grabbed your chin, directing you to look at him. “Don’t spin it like it’s because of you. I was just focusing on myself,” you retorted.
The usual playfulness in his behavior wasn’t there. He looked at you with a narrow glare, “Yet look at where you are right now. Keep spewing bullshit and I’ll fuck you past the point where the only thing you can say is my name.”
He lifted back up, letting a trail of spit fall from his mouth down to your heat. He spread it around with his thumb, which naturally made you squirm a bit. But when he decided to focus on your clit, teasing it in circles, your back arched off the bed as you let out a high-pitched whimper. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his watching you. You were sure the teasing was only gonna get worse from here.
But to your surprise, he soon aligned his dick with your folds and plunged in. There was no hesitation, but fervor. The neighbors would have complaints from the volume of the moan you let out.
He stayed there for a moment, and you heard a “Shit,” come from between his gritted teeth as you tightened around him.
You blinked away your haziness, eager to evaluate his expression. You could tell how warm he was by the rosiness of his skin and the sweat beading at his hairline and neck. His nostrils flared with each breath and his chest was exaggeratedly rising & falling. He was looking down at your pussy like it was a challenge, one he was ready to conquer.
That’s when you recognized. “You haven’t had sex with anyone else either, have you?”
He hesitated, looking you in the eyes with that same narrow glare, before he shook his head, breathily saying, “I haven’t.”
The adoration in your eyes must’ve been visible, “Baby, really?”
He didn’t seem the happiest about your coo. He retightened his grip on your ankles, saying between two hard strokes, “Shut. Up.”
And that you did. No more words came out of you now. Just moans and whimpers. He knew your body so well. You knew this night wasn’t going to end without him bringing you to your peak over and over again, especially with the way he was fucking you right now. His strokes were long and slow, so you knew he was savoring you. And you were only getting wetter and wetter.
“You look so fucking pretty under me, angel. Damn it, you’re squeezing me so tight.”
Your hands were gripping the sheets as your body curved towards him. “Feels so good, baby.” Your words were full of breath and your vision was full of haze. You felt every piece of him thrusting in and out of you at that deliberately extreme pace. For you and him to have been having sex for so long, this time felt different. You were convinced that he only got better every time.
He lowered down, his exposed torso against yours as he wrapped his arm around you. He kept plunging in, and the sounds of your heat just got louder and louder.
He had his face buried in the space where your neck and shoulder met, and you quieted your moans so you could hear the way he instinctively sniffed you. He gave low grunts with each thrust, and his fingernails were digging into your side. You from last month would be pissed off if seeing how happy you were from your mean-mouthed ex showing his neediness while inside of you so much.
“Angel, can you tell me something?” he asked in your ear. His softness that you managed to get so often was finally starting to be heard in his voice.
“What is it?”
He began leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, “Tell me you missed me.”
He kept taking over you. Your legs were wrapped tight around his torso, “I missed you so much, baby. You know that.”
“You’re right,” he said against your skin. The way he was kissing was bound to leave a hickey, and he didn’t move on without sinking his teeth in. You tightened around him when he did. “I feel that. Tell me you need me.”
“I need you, so, so, bad. So glad I have you.”
His wet kisses were pecking up to your ear. He held onto you tighter as if there was anymore space to close between you two. “Exactly, angel.” It was low, and it was breathy, but you felt it in your core when he said, “Don’t know how to fucking live without you.”
You had your hand placed on his nape, fingers brushing through his hair as he kept going. Your moans were getting higher and higher, and you and him both knew what that meant.
He pressed his forehead against yours when he said, “Tell me you love me,” although it came out sounding like a question.
You pulled his lips to yours, curving into him as you said, “Of course I love you, baby. Always,” into his mouth.
He kissed you harder, hungrier, and you were whimpering more and more.
“I love you too,” he gave a hard thrust, “Fuck, I love you too. Love you so much. Don’t ever fucking leave me again, please.”
His force stayed hard and his pace had increased. You were moaning loudly into his mouth, and you felt his length start to pulsate inside of you.
You knew he loved to see your release, so that’s why he lifted up, looking down at you as your hand squished your breast, your warm body produced more sweat, and your thighs rippled with every movement.
Your eyes were squeezed shut, until he tapped your jawline. “Open,” is what he said, “you need to see the way you’re about to squirt.“
You looked down where you and him connected, and he was right. You were puddling more and more with each stroke, and you had to reach to one of his broad shoulders for some type of support. He put a hand on your back, and you and him were both letting out moans full of passion that melodized together.
One final thrust. It was hard, it was deep, and it was the one that pushed you past your limit. You remember letting out a scream and squeezing your eyes shut, your body letting out intense shakes as the bed and you two’s skin were getting a complete shower.
And that was all he needed for him to follow soon after. Mixing with your juices, he buried his seed deep inside of you, jutting his hips slightly as his pleasure milked into you.
He groaned as he pulled out, and not long after that, he fell down on the bed, laying next to you with his arm over your body, holding you close as you both caught your breath.
He was motionless for a while, until he started kissing on your neck over where he left hickies and a bite mark, cradling your face in his large hand.
“I amaze myself everyday. Never knew I could make love.”
You chuckled, “I’m surprised you didn’t know. You’re such a softie.”
He lifted up just to look you in the eyes, “I’m soft? Do you not see the nail marks in your side?”
“Angel, tell me how much you missed me. Don’t ever leave me again, pretty please.”
You knew that along with the deep pitch you mocked him in was going to drive him insane, and you were correct. “Okay, love-making has gone to your head. Pure fucking from now on.”
“I think you’re rougher during the love-making, somehow.”
Any playfulness on his face leveled out. He was serious as he asked, “Was I too rough?”
You shook your head, “No, I would tell you. I liked it.”
“Okay,” he pressed a kiss against your lips.
“But you do need to get me a new shirt.”
“Or, I could just fuck you until you cry.”
Your face was still. “I’m serious.”
“I am too.”
You rolled your eyes, and he kissed you again. “You know one thing I didn’t tell you to tell me?” he asked.
“What?”
“That you’re mine.”
You grinned cockily, “You’d love to hear me say that, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course. I’m going to hear you say it in a few minutes. And that you’re sorry.”
Your bewilderment probably showed on your face, “Get pigs to fly.”
“Get on your knees.”
i wrote this with yami sukehiro in mind, but feel free to imagine any mean buff man of your choosing. <3
★ in which your childhood crush…friend reconnects with you after years of no contact and invites you to his new apartment for a tour. fortunately, his apartment isn’t the only thing you end up exploring.
content ★ 3.8k words. reminiscing…ok let me get to the point - you fuck. (aftercare included). after episode six. reader is chase’s sister. poc reader friendly
author’s note ★ okay, idk what chokehold robert has over me. this fic is set after episode six but as you can see chase isn’t in the hospital yet (but depending on how well this does, i might write a follow-up fic about that). tbh, i was just looking for a reason to practice writing smut. anyway…inbox is open (as always)
“Now…don’t laugh when I open the door.”
You trail behind Robert, an amused smile already spreading across your face. That was the nature of your friendship: you teased and he cried. The days of being twelve, riding your bikes, and sitting in a field of grass until your brother came running to pick you up and gave you both a stern lecture about staying out for too long.
You dread how the nostalgia tugs your heart and the consequences that came with it.
But cheers to new beginnings - it’s been years since you’ve seen your childhood crush. Friend. Robert was your childhood friend.
Robert pushes the door open. “Ladies first.” He gestures for you to step inside.
“How chivalr-” You cut yourself off as you take note of the bare yet full apartment. You're not too sure as there’s everything and nothing at the same time. There’s a pile of boxes pushed against the wall and a variety of lights right next to it. On the other side of the room is a couch.
“Robert…” You try your best to contain your laughter but it comes out as a sputtered mess. He shoots you a dirty look over his shoulder, growing annoyed, as he closes the door.
“You live like this?” you finally manage to ask through your laughter.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he replies dryly. Robert tosses his keys on the counter and observes you inspecting his place.
“Why all these lamps? I’m so lost,” you continue, “No TV, no carpet, what’s going on here?”
“Do you want something to drink?” He ignores your teasing as he heads towards the fridge.
Your laughter starts up again. “You have drinks in that fridge? Robert, don’t tell me that’s where your paycheck is going towards.” You walk over to him, ready to tell him what you actually want. However, he’s already taking out two cans of beer. It’s probably all he has anyway.
He opens one up for you and shoves it in your face. “Drink this and shut up.”
“Did I hit a nerve…” Your teasing smile twists into a mischievous one. “…Bobbie?”
You earn an eye roll from Robert. “I wish I had a stupid nickname for you. Something to tease you about,” he says. “You’ve never had anything to be embarrassed about.”
You take a sip of your beer. “Oh, tell me how great I am.”
It’s his turn to smile and it seems genuine. “Well…you’ve always stood out,” Robert leans on the counter, “Never stuck to the status quo.”
You were a surprise - an unplanned one. In short, there was a huge age gap between you and your brother. Not only that, he got the powers and you didn’t. The world knew him as Track Star but to you, he was simply Chase.
You had two options: be a loser and sulk over not having powers or get the hell up and become a household name yourself.
As a kid, you made it your job to be the most unforgettable person in the room - involving yourself in activities ranging from dance classes, soccer, and student leadership.
But you found the most fun in building your confidence, by challenging Robert, who came off as quiet and babyish. His personality wasn’t what made you test him - you maybe had a small, minuscule, silly, little kid crush on him and maybe you wanted to show him you were capable of being his girlfriend.
As you grew up, your childish feelings for Robert subsided, and playing soccer and snatching up any leadership role you could became your priority. The older you got, the more your relationship withered away. To your friends, Robert was the guy you had play dates with. Then his dad died and your relationship was truly done for. When Robert first took on the mantle of Mecha Man, he made it very clear that he and he alone would continue his father’s legacy.
Even if you wanted, you didn’t have time to check on Robert - your brother was getting older.
You went to college, double majored in journalism and political science, and played soccer until you walked that stage to receive your diploma. Now, you sit on the morning and evening news decoding local, government, and superhero news.
“I wish I did that - go to college and the whole shabang.” There’s a sad look in Robert’s eyes. “I mean, I know I have my Associate’s but I’ll never have the chance to be on a campus like you were. Sometimes I’d look at your soccer team’s Instagram page and see a photo of you in action and think ‘damn, I should have stayed her friend’.”
He sees that your smile is widening. “Don’t laugh. I’m trying to be sentimental here.”
“I don’t think it’s funny.” You place your beer on the counter and take a step towards him. “It’s sweet…and affirming. My years of torturing you worked.”
You both share a laugh and the room falls silent. You find yourself staring at him. He was still cute, handsome now as an adult. He must be getting with all sorts of people nowadays. Your brother claims he’s less of a bitch and carries himself very well under pressure. “He’s a leader now,” you recall him saying.
His voice brings you out of your thoughts. “But I’m glad you’re here…that we can reconnect.” He straightens up and places his can of beer next to yours. “I see you on the news all the time but when I moved down here, I didn’t realize I could actually see you until your brother brought you up.”
It’s his turn to stare at you. You feel your cheeks heat up. “You watch the news all the time and it didn’t occur to you to reach out?”
“Like I said, you stand out. You’re unreachable.”
You say nothing, not wanting to argue. Then he starts to talk again.
“Well, to be frank, work is a lot and I don’t have a TV anymore, so don’t let what I said blow your head up,” he jokes. You hum in response, as you’re too distracted by his face.
Robert catches on and chuckles awkwardly. “What? Something on my face? Looking for something to pick on?”
You don’t want to admit that you’ve been admiring him. So you improvise. “These scratches…” You bring your thumb up to his chin and use it to analyze every angle of his face. “I thought you stepped down from-”
“I did,” he says firmly. He takes hold of your wrist. “It’s nothing.”
You free yourself from his grasp and cup his face. “You gotta be more careful…I thought you worked at a desk job and yet you have all these scratches…and you look so tired.”
Your noses almost touch and his air brushes your lips. You look away but notice something more. Your eyes lower as you let one of your hands trail down his neck, your fingers following his trail of bruises. Your hand stops at his chest and your remaining hand finds its place there. His chest is rising significantly and he’s breathing faster. Your eyes slowly look up at him once more; you want to feel lost but your body knows you’re concrete about your feelings.
“When did you become so caring?” he asks quietly.
All you manage to let out is a quiet, “Robert.”
He chuckles as he places his hand on your hip. “That’s the sweetest anyone’s ever said my name.”
His thumb finds your chin, pulling himself closer to your lips, kissing them.
At first, you were hesitant - weren’t you just talking about your childhood? Wasn’t he giving you an apartment tour? What prompted this? Does he like you? Has he always liked you? Or is he just looking to kiss someone?
But what the fuck - you’re kissing Mecha Man, you’re kissing the guy who you were infatuated with all those years ago. You give in and press your lips harder against him.
This continues for a while until you feel Robert pulling away.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just…” He presses himself against you to reach the beers on the counter. You hear him slide the cans over. Then you feel like your heart is about to drop from your ass when he lifts you onto the counter. “Just wanted to play with levels,” he clarifies.
You lean forward and your lips meet again. He slips his tongue into your mouth and suddenly it's your turn to pull away.
“When did you get so strong? You were always the weak one and…and…didn’t you sit in a robot for most of your career?” you question. You take this as an opportunity to feel up his biceps.
Robert squeezes your hips.“Oh, you wound me.”
“Okay, well if you aren’t doing-”
“I work out, smartass.” He shakes your hands off his arms and starts to unbutton his uniform top, further showing off his defined body, decorated in scars and bruises. You lean forward and kiss his nose as you let one hand roam his bare chest.
“Thank you…for all…your hard work,” you said quietly in between kisses. Your lips find his cheek, his left ear, his jaw.
He holds your shoulder and gently pulls you away. “I’d feel even more grateful if you took something off too. I can’t be the only performer here.”
You scoff, teasingly. “And what am I supposed to take off, my pants?”
“Preferably.” The dumbest smile appears on his face. You push him away with your foot and begin to strip away your cardigan.
“You didn't even take your shirt off,” you point out. Robert shrugs and slips the button-up shirt off his body. He holds a finger up, silently letting you know to “wait for it”. He unbuckles his belt, then his pants. You watch as he purposely takes a hundred years to unzip his pants. He finally pulls them down, revealing black boxers, and somewhat struggles to get out of them, earning a giggle from you.
He walks towards you and settles himself between your legs once again. You cup his face. “We’re doing this?” you ask, “l haven’t seen you in years and the first thing you’re going to do is fuck me?”
“Well, I don’t have to if you don’t want to. No pressure-”
You cut Robert off with yet another short kiss. When you pull away, you ask him to help you with your clothes. He doesn’t hesitate and slips off your top and your jeans. All you’re left with is a pink lacy bra and matching panties.
“You always dress like this?” He asks innocently, pushing your knees closer to your chest.
“Only when the opportunity to fuck Mecha Man arises,” you respond smugly.
He scoffs before once again finding your lips. As he kisses you, Robert lets his pointer and middle finger rub against your clothed clit, making it throb instantly. The faster he goes, the sloppier your kisses get.
He shifts your panties to the side and slips two fingers into you, slowly dragging them in and out. You pull away from the kiss and bring yourself closer to him. You whisper expletives in between hitched breaths over his shoulder.
“So sensitive…” he mutters, “Not even going that fast.”
Robert picks up the pace, making you squirm. You try to close your legs but he immediately pulls his fingers out of you and a mewl escapes your lips. He pushes your left leg open and pulls his torso away from his body. You balance yourself on your arms.
“Don’t do that again,” he growls.
You watch as he slightly lowers himself between your thighs. He slips your underwear (and you’re grateful he’s not one of those freaks that just tears it off. Good underwear is hard to come by).
He drags his tongue over your slit before slipping his fingers back in and continuing his quick pace. You can’t help but let your head hang back and whimper as everything feels tighter. “Robeeert…fuck...I…”
Robert pulls his fingers out of you, seemingly sensing that you were close, and stands up straight. “Never heard my name moaned like that,” he says casually. He watches you as he sucks on his wet fingers. You’re trying your hardest to be patient but the more you sit on the counter, the more eager you are for him to fuck you.
“I’ve always been told my name isn’t moanable,” he continues.
You groan as you now completely understand he’s screwing with you. Robert walks over to the side of the counter and wraps one arm under your thigh and the other around your back and under your arm. He holds you bridal style and carries you to his sorry ass blue couch.
“You picked this out?” you tease. It isn’t a bad couch - it was comfortable - but this wouldn’t be a hangout without you making fun of Robert at all hours.
You start sitting up on the couch but pause as you watch Robert pull his boxers down, revealing his length. He wasn’t scary looking and you weren’t disappointed. Robert had to be about five inches, six even.
“The couch was a gift,” he replies, “I don’t mind it.” He walks away from you and back into the kitchen area. You sit up, curious about his next move.
It takes Robert about five minutes to come back. He waves a square mint green package in the air. He rips the top half with his teeth and sputters the ripped piece out of his mouth before taking out the condom. “Can’t afford to have any kids, especially if I can't afford a couch you might approve of,” he says. He rolls the condom down his shaft.
“Okay, I see my disapproval of this couch really rubs-.” Robert lifts you again and puts you on your side, making you yelp. He lies on the couch and presses his torso against your backside. You feel him navigating his way to your slit and when you find that he isn’t successful, you help him by putting him in the right spot.
Immediately, he thrusts into you. “Thanks,” he whispers in your ear. His arm is wrapped around your waist and his lips leave kisses behind your ear.
Your arm snakes behind you and you’re not sure if you’re holding onto his shoulder or his jaw. You weren’t sure of anything to be honest. His name is a chant, a prayer even. Robert, Robert, Robert until it’s just Rob, Rob Rob.
Robert’s mouth remains near your ear; you can hear all his moans and illegible dirty nothings as he continues to stroke inside of you. You pant and cry until you finally reach your breaking point.
You’re breathing heavily and you can hear Robert sighing right next to you - he must have reached his limit too. You whine his name and caress whatever body part you may be holding on to. Patiently, you wait for him to pull out of you.
Eventually, he does. You’re ready to tell him that he’s amazing and that you missed him so much until you realize you’re being shifted on your back. Robert climbs on top of you, adjusts your legs to either side of him, and penetrates you once more.
Instinctively, you grab onto Robert’s face and take note of how many freckles are on his face and how brown his eyes are.
“Missed you so much,” he growls. His cadence starts steady. “How lucky am I…” he continues, “…that I get to do this.”
Then it’s erratic. He lowers himself against you and you wrap your arms around his neck, as he moves frantically inside you. You grab his hair and cry his name out once more. You climax and you’re sure this last one you can manage.
Robert lies on you, only for just a second, and then gets up off of you. His breathing is lighter than it was before but it’s still evident that he put in the work.
He offers you his hand. “Let me help you out.”
You muster up the energy you can to get up off the couch. Its appearance is evident from what just happened. “Hopefully, you can afford to get your couch cleaned up.”
“Hey, I’m broke, but I’m not that broke,” he retorts. He leads you to the bathroom. “You’re welcome to use the shower - just not too much water though. I’m prioritizing the bill over the couch.”
“Cheapskate,” you tease. “What happened to all your inheritance money?”
Robert ignores your question. “I’ll grab you a towel and something to wear.” He’s about to head out when he turns around and gives you one more look over. He steps forward and tugs on the strap of your bra. “I wish I got to take this off.” Then his fingers find the lacy party on the cup. “So pretty.”
You unbuckle your bra, slide it off, and dangle it in front of him. “Put it with my stuff, will you?”
His eyes shift between your chest, the bra, and your face before quietly taking it and exiting the bathroom.
You lock the door behind him and lean against it. You get a glimpse of your image in the mirror. “I just fucked Mecha Man…Robert Robertson,” you whisper to no one in particular. It takes you a few minutes but you muster up the energy to step inside his shower.
You’re standing in Robert’s living room, smelling like Old Spice (flavor: Swagger), in a towel.
He comes up behind you and kisses your cheek. “I brought you some lotion. Maybe that’ll balance out the Old Spice?”
You laugh. “I don’t mind, I’ll be going home soon. No one will know that I smell like Robert Robertson.”
“Whatever that means.” He then waves a menu and a bank card in your face. “I’m gonna take a shower too. Order whatever you want. It’s on me.”
Robert places one more kiss on your cheek before leaving. You turn around and see the clothing he picked up for you on the couch and Jergens Ultra Healing on top of them. You needed to get out of here immediately.
Nevertheless, you lather yourself up in his lotion and slip on his East Los Angeles College tee and grey basketball shorts. You walk over to the kitchen counter where your clothes are neatly folded and your bag is set next to it. You fish for your own wallet. Normally, you wouldn’t pay for any guy’s food but Robert just wasn’t any guy; you’d do him this favor just once (…and maybe ten more times if he keeps fucking you like he did today).. You open the menu, learning that it’s from a Chinese takeout place nearby, and see he’s circled something to order.
“Jalapeño Beef…okay but with what rice?” you mutter to yourself. You look over the menu and decide on what you want before finishing Robert’s. After three minutes, you decide you want to do the Jalapeño Shrimp with brown rice. You figured he wouldn’t mind brown rice, 1) because he’s so clearly fit and 2) seems like he'd do anything nowadays with his sorry fridge.
You call to place an order. 45 minutes is the ETA. You head over to the couch and spread the towel you were using over the seat. You take out your phone and start to scroll through multiple social media apps, switching every two minutes. You were so distracted; all you could think about was Robert. How he made you cry and squirm…how he held you.
Your thoughts are interrupted by an incoming text from your brother.
[Old Head: Are you home yet?]
[Old Head: Did tou have a good playdate with the stupid little bastard?]
Oh, he had no idea.
Robert eventually comes back, in just a set of grey joggers. “Food’s on its way?”
You tuck away your phone and nod. “Hope you like brown rice.”
He makes a face, a disgusted one. “We’re getting Chinese and you ordered brown rice? Who are you?”
Good thing you used your card instead of his. “You could probably eat a little bit healthier, Bobbie,” you point out. “You’re not still eating Twinkies, are you?”
He scratches his neck sheepishly. “You caught me.”
You pat on the space next to you, gesturing for him to sit and he does so. Robert fake yawns, stretching his arms and wrapping one around your shoulder, pulling you close.
“Brown rice is good for you, Robert.” You run your hands over his abs. “It’ll keep you nice and strong.”
Your statement earns you a smirk. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea all of a sudden.”
His scars catch your attention again, so you start to trace them. You both sit in silence; Robert simply watches you as you try to wrap your brain around the past few hours.
Thinking doesn’t help, so you confess. “You know, when we were kids, I had a little crush on you.”
He takes hold of your wrist. “I had a feeling,” he replies matter-of-factly.
“Oh really?” You ask. “How?”
“I used to complain to my dad that you were always trying to one-up me and that sometimes you’d get mean about it. And then he’d say,” Robert then puts on a deep voice mimicking his father, “If she’s being mean to you, she must like you. Now, suck it up and be a man, boy.”
You burst out laughing, as you could hear Mr. Robertson’s voice. You place your head on his shoulder. “Obviously, that wouldn’t fly today…I kind of miss him.”
“A lot of shit he said wouldn’t fly today,” Robert replies. He unwraps his fingers from your wrist and lets his hand sit on top of yours.
“I remember asking your brother if you liked me, just to confirm. I think he got confused…he cussed me out. Something along the lines of I’ll never get to know you that way and if I did, he’d twist my balls. And then he called me a little shit. I was eleven.”
You snort. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Robert.” That one hundred percent sounded like something Chase would say. “He’d kill me if he knew what we just did.”
“You’re an adult…he’s…a super old adult. He’ll understand,” Robert says casually.
You sigh and shake your head. “I’m his sister. He just wants the best for me.”
Robert lifts his head slightly to get a better look at your face. “Are you insinuating I’m not good for you?”
Your mouth hangs open, trying to find the best words. “Well…maybe…take me on a real date and…perhaps I’ll change my mind.”
Robert looks up and hums, a thoughtful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I could work with that.”
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