Rob’s Corner

As soon as Rob’s office door shut (and locked, Rob noticed) behind Spencer, the man looked mischievous.

“Hello,” Rob said slowly, almost jokingly. “What’s gotten into you?”

Spencer grinned, whistling as he clasped his hands behind his back, walking slowly toward Rob’s desk. He was bad at whistling, so it was just air blowing more often than it was noise. Rob couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous his husband looked.

“Spence, seriously.”

The man shrugged, continuing his amble around Rob’s desk until he was standing right behind his chair. Rob tried to turn to face him, but Spencer laid gentle hands on his shoulders, squeezing them gently to relieve some of the tension he knew his love carried there. “Shh,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss Rob’s neck. “Relax.”

Rob looked at Spencer with wide, incredulous eyes, trying to act indignant, but it was somewhat dampened by the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. Spencer didn’t kiss his neck casually, never in public, never at work. “Spencer,” he said carefully, chiding. “We are in my office.”

The other hero hummed against Rob’s neck, smiling. “You’re so tense,” he said softly.

“You’re actually coming onto me. You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Spencer slowly turned Rob’s office chair, getting on his knees so his hands could trail to Rob’s legs, gently massaging away the tingling sensation that came with an asleep limb. Rob, despite himself, reached to comb his fingers through Spencer’s hair.

“You okay?” Rob asked quietly, not sure why Spencer was acting like this. Usually this was reserved for home, behind firmly closed doors, away from the Agency. And even then, these moments of doting sweetness and attraction were slowly becoming fewer and farther between.

Spencer nodded, unlacing one of Rob’s shoes and squeezing his foot, ridding it of the same uncomfortable pinpricks. “I’m alright,” he murmured, resting his cheek against Rob’s knee. “Just thinking about you. Worrying about you.”

Rob felt as though his heart could burst, and he was struck with the sudden urge to cry. “Oh, philatos,” he whispered, pulling Spencer’s bangs back to watch the way his eyes closed contentedly. He couldn’t bring himself to argue, to say that he was alright, to insist that Spencer was being ridiculous and should probably get back to whatever work was waiting for him. He simply watched as Spencer untied his other shoe, continuing his gentle but firm massaging until some feeling had been worked back into Rob’s legs.

“Lay with me?” Spencer asked quietly, opening his eyes to look at Rob through his lashes. Rob opened his mouth to shoot the idea down---he had so much work to do, he didn’t need the rest, someone could come knocking on the door at any time---but Spencer spoke again before he could. “Please? I had a long morning. Just wanna be with you, for a bit.”

Rob knew full well that Spencer was lying, that the rest was for his benefit. Even still, he had never quite been able to resist when Spencer outright asked for comfort, in those very rare moments. He nodded and they both stood, Spencer kicking his own shoes off and laying down on the large couch, opening an arm to Rob. The Head Hero crawled onto the cushions beside him, head resting on his lover’s bicep, nose buried in his soft shirt.

Spencer reached up to tug at the knot of Rob’s tie, undoing it slightly. Rob couldn’t help but feel as though a noose had been loosened, his hour of execution delayed. When his husband’s lips met his neck again, he sighed. “Spencer.”

“Mm?” Spencer hummed innocently, as if what he was doing was innocuous. As if they just did this all the time, as if it didn’t carry such a heavy weight. Again, Rob’s eyes stung, but he’d be damned if he ruined this moment with tears.

“...we can’t,” he said eventually, but again, his relieved smile undercut the firm nature of the words significantly. “Not in my office.”

“Can’t what? Who said I’m doing anything?” Spencer’s fingers trailed to Rob’s wrists, undoing the too-tight buttons at the cuffs of his sleeves. “I’m not allowed to kiss my husband?”

Rob snorted, but moved his arms so his other sleeve was easier to reach. “There is a very big difference between a quick kiss on the lips and making out on a couch. What if an apprentice walked in?”

“I locked the door,” Spencer murmured. “Besides, we’re not doing anything besides relaxing.”

“Spencer…”

“I just-” The man cut himself off with a sigh, and Rob was suddenly struck with the thought that his earlier statement of a long morning may not have been entirely fabricated. “I just want to lay with you. Just for a little bit.”

Rob could tell Spencer expected more pushback, to have to argue or even plead more, so he spoke up quickly. “Okay,” he murmured, reaching up to put a hand at the base of Spencer’s neck. “Okay, philatos. Whatever you want.”

Spencer blinked, then grinned. Oh, Rob loved that grin, the boyishness that the Agency never seemed to be able to fully beat out of him. The crooked teeth that most certainly should’ve been addressed with braces when he was younger. The little chip in one front tooth, one of his rare marks not caused by training, but rather opening their apartment door into his face the day they moved in.

Again, Rob’s eyes stung, and he leaned forward to kiss Spencer. His husband leaned into him without hesitation, arm bending to tangle his fingers in Rob’s unruly hair, his other wrapping dutifully around his torso. When they broke apart, Spencer frowned with all the gentle concern that Rob had fallen in love with. “Rob, my love,” he murmured, the hand on his back now there to wipe away tears as they formed. “Don’t cry, philatos. Everything’s alright.”

Rob nodded, blinking tears away. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m okay. Really, I’m okay.” He took Spencer’s arm and guided it back to his waist; he liked the feeling of his husband’s large hand at the small of his back, warming him, steadying him. He let his own arms wrap around Spencer’s neck, bringing his face to Rob’s shoulder. “I love you,” Rob murmured, gently combing his fingers through Spencer’s hair, undoing his hair tie and braid so he could fully work through the wavy locks. “I love you so much, Spencer. More than I could ever possibly tell you.”

Spencer’s breath hitched, just a little, and he held Rob that much closer. “I love you too,” he said, voice muffled in Rob’s shoulder. “I worry about you so much, about this job-”

“Don’t,” the other man said quietly. “Please, just let me hold you right now. Just for a little bit.”

Eventually, someone would knock on the door. Rem would have questions about the training schedule, Mariano would be back from patrol and want some tea to chase away the chill of the outside. Rob would drag himself out of Spencer’s arms, tighten his noose, button his sleeves, and slip his shoes back on while Spencer clumsily re-braided his hair. Eventually, Spencer would slip back out the door, giving Rob a sad and tired smile, which Rob would dutifully return and think about in the hours they were separated. But for now, he could hold his husband.

Just for a little bit.

Oops I had a cuter idea for this day! Archer still belongs to @that-one-thespian c:

TWs: minor character death, betrayal, kidnapping

blurred vision / hallucinogen / haunted

Mariano squinted, heart racing. He couldn't see. He didn't know where he was. "A...Sir Archer...?" He tried, voice hoarse.

They'd gotten separated in the attack on their caravan. Mages had poured out of the woods, magic flickering at their hands and smoke filling the area. Mariano had tried to cover his nose and mouth, thrashing and hitting and biting at the bare hands that tried to restrain him.

Even so, his chest felt impossibly heavy. It was too hard to breathe. Now, he wasn't even near the road. How far had he run?

He'd lost his glasses in the attack.

Sir Archer belongs to my beloved @that-one-thespian

TWs: Bruises, aftermath of whump, guilt

greed / on display / black and blue

"Easy, your highness." Archer's voice was soft, delicate. He spoke like being too loud would shatter the man who held onto his arm. "I've got you."

His prince was still limping from the beating he'd received before Archer had been able to save him from his kidnapper. This was the first day he was medically cleared to walk around--but only if Archer was at his side. Together, slowly, they made their way around the gardens.

Brooks belongs to my beloved fiance, @whumpr!!

TWs: impalement, shot with an arrow, royal whump, blood, magical healing

sold off / bleeding heart / bargaining

"Treasure!" Brooks' voice cracked, terror ripping through his chest as he watched an arrow rip through Prince Mariano. Comet, wings flapping, screamed as another pierced his dark hide. They wobbled in the air, Comet visibly struggling to stay aloft over the lake as both gleaming arrows loosed their magical charges in a terrible flash.

Mariano had mentioned once that the archery portion of a dragon race was always the most perilous for the front-runner.

Brooks gripped his seat, vibrating as he heard the other competitors start to whistle and flash their magic. S-O-S they all screamed, starting to close in on Mariano and Comet in a cloud. For a brief, terrible moment, Brooks half expected to see them to start tearing his prince apart.

My Spooky kitty boy is in with the emergency vet right now. He seems to be constipated but he keeps panting. I'm setting up a go fund me for his vet bills. Please help! 🥺

I hope you’re doing well. I started a fundraiser on GoFundMe and it would mean so much if you could take a look at it. Any help, like donating or sharing, gets me closer to my goal. Thank you in advance for your kindness and support.

ANOTHER WHUMP EVENT LET'S GO

TWs: overheating, fainting, disoriented whumpee

brainwashing / heavy / overheating

Voices buzzed around Mariano as he made his way back to his and Bastian's room. Condor had needed extra hands to help get supplies, they'd been attacked on the way back. His magic had been enough to fend off the attackers, but between that, the way the sun had beat down on him, and the weight of his supply-laden bags, it felt like he had been running on fumes all day.

His mouth was terribly dry, his head pounded, and he'd nearly tripped over his feet twice when walking to the storage hall. It was over, though. He'd done his duty. He'd carried Markus' bags when the heat had started to get to him. He'd kept his complaints to himself.

"Bug. Are you in there?" A snap in front of Mariano's eyes made him blink hard. "There you are. I've been talking to you for the last two minutes."