#dispatch robert fanfic

— Pairing: Robert Robertson x Coworker fem!Reader —

* Read Part 2 here *

Description: You send some risqué pictures to Robert before going to an office party together. You both end up leaving early — but not before making good use of a spare empty conference room.

4.0k — 18+ minors DNI — Content: tame sexting/nudes, alcohol, dirty talk (in character, I promise), fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), semi-public

Note: i’ve been obsessed with dispatch recently (need all of them fr) but specifically robert has me banging on my chest like a gorilla, so here’s my small contribution to the robert x reader fanfic community — if anyone is interested in a potential part two, let me know :)

The invite had outlined what you were to wear. Black cocktail attire, straightforward enough. Surely, you could choose between the few options you dug from your closet. But decisiveness had never been your strong suit — and that sounded boring anyway.

Picking up your phone from the nightstand, you begin to send your coworker and for-all-intents-and-purposes-casual-date for the evening a text.

“Hey, need your help”

After a few moments, your phone vibrates.

“Yeah?”

“Help me pick, going between three options”

You stand in front of your floor length mirror, phone in hand with the camera opened, dressed in option number one. Sleek, elegant, and decently modest despite its form fit. You posed slightly, but the image was innocent enough. You hit send.

There was only a slight pause before Robert thumbs-upped the picture, quickly followed by another text.

“Mhm. Are there others?”

A smile made its way across your face at his response, a bit eager. A good sign.

You quickly slip on your second dress. Not much different than the first, your photography skills were going to have to do the work this time.

You turn your camera front-facing, taking a picture from the neck down where you stood, showcasing the dress and how well you fit into it.

A longer pause on his end. Typing bubble pops up. Then disappears. Then reappears.

“Turn around.”

You let out a heady sigh as something lower in your stomach twists with want. You were the one trying to get him flustered, making all this effort when apparently all he needed to do to return the favor was send two fucking words. Your skin was heated, buzzing.

You bring your phone up over your shoulder to capture the back, including the slope of your hips and where the length of the dress sat high on your thighs. You send the picture as he had asked, eyes trained on the screen as you wait for his response. Your phone vibrates again.

“You look beautiful. But try the third on.”

You began chewing on your bottom lip to distract from the giddy feeling in your chest. God, you were so fucked.

The third option had purposefully been saved for last. You slide the dress over your frame, also black. Formal, definitely tight, and definitely short. Truthfully, near too scandalous for a company party.

With your pulse high in your throat, you move to your bed this time, lying down on the sheets causing the dress to ride up significantly. You don’t fix it. Bringing your phone camera up above you to take the picture. Arching your back so that a glimpse of your lace underwear peeks from between your legs and ensuring that the cut of the neckline was deep from that angle. You take a moment to examine your work. Too much? You question, yet you almost don’t care.

You had been around Robert enough over the past few months to realize that, unless you were completely delusional, the feeling was mutual. You got along well, you would even go so far to say you were good friends by now. Casual flirting here and there, nothing too intimate, and nothing you hadn’t seen him do with others at the office.

But it wasn’t just that. Any time he was close, you could feel it. This tension.

From leaning over your computer to assist on a call, to sharing a booth during team bonding at the bar on occasional Friday nights. Or any time he touched you — playful jabs, reassuring gestures, a hand briefly grazing your waist as he moved past in the break room. All innocent enough on paper, but devastating in person.

Before joining SDN, you had chalked up the notion of immediate chemistry upon meeting someone to lustful romantics being full of shit.

But, oh, were you wrong. And it hit like a drug.

Thinking back to all the times you had been this close to sending a text that said, “I really want you to fuck me” during late, drunken hours of the night, this approach was perhaps tasteful in comparison.

So, with bated breath, you hit send.

And…

He doesn’t respond.

Fuck. It’s been well over ten minutes. You immediately begin thinking up an appropriate apology.

“Sorry, I got carried away.”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t want to make things weird between us.”

“I clearly can’t read the fucking room, I —”

*Bzzt*

Your heart stutters as your phone jolts against your palm.

There weren’t any words. Instead, he had sent a single picture of his own.

The image was from the jaw down, leaning casually against his headboard. Clearly in the middle of getting ready himself, his white dress shirt was half unbuttoned at the collar and untucked at the waistband. You could see the faint trail of hair leading down from his navel underneath to where his hand rested low on his stomach. His belt was undone. And the top of his suit pants was strained just enough to show what you had done to him.

You were speechless. And warm, really warm. Your thighs press together where you sat on the edge of the bed, eyes tracing over every detail. Heart racing and nerves ablaze. Suddenly, it was real. Not a question, not an inkling. The proof sat in your hand, hot and heavy, followed by a complimentary shot of adrenaline straight through your veins.

“Noted. Option three then?” You send back.

Teasing. Casual. Cool. As if that exchange didn’t have you completely and utterly wrecked. Like, somewhere along the way, your respect and appreciation for him hadn’t turned into something more depraved. A raw need that you couldn’t keep to yourself anymore.

*Bzzt*

“Good choice.”

*Bzzt*

“Be by to pick you up at eight.”

Your head spins. You were so done for. Then, just when you think you had survived.

Robert saved image to camera roll.

He fucking saved it. Your imagination starts tumbling over itself thinking up scenarios for when that might be used. All of which had your skin tingling as you tugged on the hem of your dress. Suddenly bashful, as if he could see you through the phone screen.

Walking to your vanity, you start applying your makeup in a haze, hiding the flush spread across your skin. Hair followed — pushing pins in each strand to keep yourself together. A metaphor, really. The rest of your routine was a blur. Your focus was instead spent anticipating the night ahead.

* * * * *

He picked you up, punctual as ever. Conversation came easy as you slipped in the passenger seat, despite the exchange just an hour earlier. It was familiar, natural banter. That was the thing about Robert. He was a professional, respectful and controlled — but he was also warm, grounded. A combination that made him magnetic without even trying.

“So, any etiquette I should be made aware of?”

For most circumstances which you hadn’t been acquainted, Robert usually showed you the ropes. And “office party” could mean wildly different things depending on where you were employed.

“Eh, not really.” He said with a shrug, one hand lazily perched on top of the steering wheel as he pulled up to the familiar office building. It looked a bit different after-hours, you thought.

“Maybe stay away from the appetizers — they look better than they taste. And just don’t, like, punch the CEO and I think you’re good.”

His tone was dry, playful as his eyes flicked to yours. You chuckle.

“Shit, well, there goes my party trick.”

A laugh rumbles from his chest as he puts the car in park, getting out of the driver’s seat to come to your side.

During the half-second after opening your door, his gaze flicks over your frame — so quick, almost like it was involuntary — before returning to your face, offering you his hand.

“Guess we’ll have to find you a new one, then.”

You let him pull you up, both of you standing closer than usual. Close enough that his cologne slips under your guard; understated and masculine. You smile at the gesture, adjusting the bottom of your dress with the opposite hand as you stand.

“Thanks.”

He nods gently, turning to walk with you towards the entrance. Cars zip by, headlights streaking your vision. As you cross the street, his hand came to rest on the small of your back. Subtle, protective without being overbearing.

You drag in a long breath of the brisk night air before you enter, trying to remind yourself of the sensation. Cooled, calm.

Inside was buzzing with energy. Superheroes, reformed villains, faculty and staff alike filled the large main floor lounge. Someone’s playlist was fed through the intercom, the beat echoing in your chest. Warm, low lights were haphazardly strung to the walls in an endearing attempt at ambience.

The tension in your shoulders eases up, realizing that the expectations were casual. One could let loose for a little under the pretense that no one talks about it the following Monday. Or, at least, not to their face.

Robert watched you, observing as your gaze flitted around the room recognizing a few familiar faces, most new. His shoulder brushes yours, leaning in to speak.

“Gonna grab us some drinks, any requests?”

His words came out low and gravelly against your skin. You wondered if he knew what it did to you.

“Thanks, uh, yeah, I’ll just have what you’re having.” You offer an appreciative smile before he left for the makeshift bar on the opposite side of the room.

The plausibility of you making it through the evening was dwindling fast. The drinks would help. A lie, you knew it too.

Minutes later, Robert had returned close to your side with two glasses of Whiskey; his neat, yours mixed with some coke on ice, how he knew you usually ordered it. You wrap your hands around its chill to ground yourself, watching as he took a sip. He held your stare as you followed suit.

“It’s good. Strong.” You punctuate your remark with a short cough, the burn lingering on the back of your tongue.

Robert clears his throat as he brings the glass back down. “Believe it or not, I didn’t order doubles.”

“Bartender must have a thing for you.” You tease.

“Oh, definitely.” He purred.

Your focus flicks to the bar where Chase was making drinks, rolling his eyes as he handed off another round of whatever the fuck he mixed together and deemed close enough to the original order. Noticing you, he gives a small wink; the trademark gesture of a wingman.

And before you could react, you were whisked away by a friend to the dance floor. You glanced back at Robert who seemed more than content to watch, nodding you ahead.

Shortly after some quick catching up and another drink, you circled back around to him. Cheeks rosy and breath still a little short.

“Having fun?” He asked, amused by the state of you.

“Yeah, need a breather.”

You go for more of your drink to cool down, but the clink of ice against the glass reminds you it was empty.

Robert doesn’t hesitate, lifting his own drink to your mouth instead. Your lips catch the straw as you take a sip. You try not to think too hard about what just happened as his arm comes back down to his side.

“You know,” You move in closer, reaching up to smooth out his collar as an excuse to stay there. “You could come dance too.” You hum as your palm moved down to brace against his chest, tapping your pointer finger against one of his shirt buttons. His eyes flicked down to your hand before looking back up, intrigued.

Never usually this brave, the alcohol was slowly chipping away at both of your restraint. And neither of you were complaining.

“Mm, what happened to taking a breather?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

You roll your eyes in agreement, smiling. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You turn to head towards the front entrance, but his hand finds your waist — stopping you, physically and mentally, in your tracks.

“They usually smoke out front. This way.” He punctuated the pivot with a soft squeeze above your hip, nodding towards the hallway.

The party muffles as he leads you both to the other end of the hall into an empty conference room. With a precise click, the heavy door shuts behind you. The bass still faintly thrums under your feet as you move towards the table in the center of the room, taking a seat on the edge. Robert follows behind you comfortably, stopping to stand in front of where you sat. More space between you and him than you wanted, admittedly.

“Better?” He asks, appraising.

“Much.” You let out a sigh in reprieve, “Are you sure we’re allowed in here?”

“Probably not. But the way things are going out there, I’m guessing HR will have bigger issues to worry about.”

You snort, reaching up to adjust the pins in your hair. Compounded by the loud environment, the hairstyle had become suffocating. A pin slips into your fingers, but not the one you were looking for. A minute of searching later and your arms start to feel heavy.

“Need help?” He notices.

You concede. “Ugh. Yeah, maybe.”

He takes a few steps closer, standing between your legs. You settle for holding on to the edge of the table, dangling slightly forward to give him easier access. Despite your helpful posture, he leans in anyway. One of his hands tangles in the hair at the nape of your neck, bracing himself, the other searching for the pin that was bothering you. You could’ve come undone from that alone.

His face moves closer, trying to get a better look. Before registering it, your head tilts to the side in response, baring more of your neck to him. The body’s version of a freudian slip. You feel his breathing stutter in recognition.

“Got it.” He whispers into your neck as the stubborn pin slides loose, clacking softly against the table where he sets it.

Yet, he doesn’t move.

Leaning into you, not quite drunk but plenty tipsy. Enough where inhibitions slipped and reality hit slower and harder at the same time. His face finds the crook of your neck and stays there, breath brushing your skin before he spoke.

“You…smell really good.” Soft. Affectionate. A little too honest.

His lips grazed the side of your neck, causing a noticeable hitch in the back of your throat. Testing, but not giving in just yet. Your thighs tense against each other. Involuntary. Shameful only because of how little it takes.

His hands gently find solid ground on your thighs, pulling back from the slope of your shoulder. Now face to face and mere inches from something neither of you could come back from.

“Can I try something?” He asks lowly, gaze flicking down to your lips momentarily in wait.

“Mhm.” God, yes.

But, he doesn’t lean in.

Instead, you feel his hands, calloused and warm, run down your thighs as you watch him lower down on to his knees.

The act catches you off guard. It makes your stomach flip and heat coil deep as you slightly stance your legs apart on instinct. Grateful for the access, his touch slips just barely under the line of black fabric.

“Still okay?” His eyes find yours, admiring but dark around the rim with want.

“Yes.” Your answer is breathy, earnest.

He exhaled like he’d been holding it the entire evening.

“Lean back on the table.”

You do, bracing your elbows slightly behind you. Below, but somehow still the one in control, he begins to push the hem of your dress further up, his thumbs rubbing slow circles by the laced edge of your underwear. You watched him move closer, taking his time placing soft, hungry kisses up the inside of your thigh. The stubble along his jaw grazed sensitive skin, sending a shiver down your back.

“Lift your hips.”

You follow his direction; it felt automatic, inevitable. He was the only one you could see yourself surrendering to like this. Earned trust and innate desire intertwined to make one hell of an aphrodisiac. His fingers hooked under the lace adorning your hips, pulling them down — almost reverent. Watching your reaction before dropping them gently on the floor.

He swiped his finger through the need evidently pooled between your legs.

“Someone came prepared.” He remarks, only a bit smug and mostly turned on.

You choke at the brief friction. “Been that way since you sent that picture.”

Your admission made something tight and hungry clench in his gut. He pulls his hand away, moving his mouth closer to where you needed him. His nose brushes once against your clit.

“Yeah? Wanna know what I was doing when you sent yours?” He uttered, nipping further up the inside of your thigh before soothing it with his tongue.

You gasp, followed by a strangled hum. He took that as a yes.

“Definitely caught my attention with the first one,”

His kisses turned open-mouthed, greedy. Roaming the outer edge of your heat before pulling back enough to continue his answer.

“Saw the next, knew I was fucked,”

His hands trailed down your legs, keeping them open.

“Was hard before you even sent the last one.” He exhaled roughly — as if just being reminded of it was torturous.

“Then what?”

You wanted to hear him say it.

“I undid my belt, then the waistband,” His voice was low, hypnotic.

“And after I sent my own picture in retaliation,”

He brings his thumb to your clit, tracing slow, measured circles. Taking his time, mouth still agonizingly close. You whine impatiently, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Started stroking myself through these pants, thinking about how I wanted to do this,”

Cutting himself off, his tongue finally makes contact — flattening against where you ached for him. Swirling and tasting like a man starved simply because nothing else had satisfied.

You moan and your hands tangle through his hair in an act of gratitude. He pauses, letting out a hum against you, making you squirm before he began moving again.

He continues, adding pressure from the tip of his tongue between expansive strokes up your folds. Then, he made sure to pay more attention to your neglected clit. Offering small, deliberate flicks before softly taking it between his lips, sucking, earning another sound of approval from you.

He didn’t rush, savoring every jolt he sent up your spine. Memorizing how to build you up before taking you apart. His hands held onto your inner thighs, squeezing in promise; going to take care of you.

Robert, a proponent of fairness, made sure his mouth eventually found your throbbing center. It tightened desperately, begging for contact.

He pushes into you with his tongue, the act also causing his nose to press up under your now swollen clit, making you shudder. You tug gently on his hair, grinding down onto him like you couldn’t help yourself. His grip tightens, and this time he was the one groaning with need.

Wanting to make you earn it, he pulls back and opts for more teasing and sloppy kisses against where you shamelessly dripped for him. And, fuck, something had to give.

You move forward, holding the sides of his face as you gently bring his gaze up to yours. Somehow, he looked even hotter. Hair mussed and composure slipping into a more primal, focused control. Dark, blown pupils saying more than words ever could. With a hand under his chin, you urge him back up and to your mouth. Smoothly he follows, meeting his lips with yours.

Messy. Perfect.

You grant him entrance as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, tasting yourself as he moved deeper. The kiss was searing — the kind that comes from months of pent up tension and second guessing. His teeth lightly tug on your bottom lip as his hands roamed over your hips, pulling you closer. You could feel him, taut against his pants and pressing into you. An act that was as much self serving as it was a confession.

But, right now, it was not about him.

He wanted you. Not for what you offered in return, but for the simple fact that you made his chest tighten and head swirl. Because you slipped in his thoughts day in and day out. Because every second spent with you was more than worth it, filthy or innocent. Nothing owed, everything given for the sake of making you understand, and possibly himself too, that it was always you.

His dominant hand glides up your thigh towards your core again, drawing out the suspense as he planted his mouth across your neck — tender bites overwritten by rough kisses.

His middle and ring fingers line up to your entrance, waiting. Without wasting a second, you rut yourself onto them — and that was more than enough proof for him to continue. He sunk in slow, stretching you out deliciously.

“Fuck — ah,” A tremble in your legs followed as he presses deeper, curling up into you. He watched, enrapt, as your head lolls forward, revealing he’d found the spot he was looking for.

“That it?” He asked, lips pulled into a small smirk.

“Mhm,” You respond, the noise halfway between a whimper and a moan.

He makes sure each drive of his fingers lands there. Precise and devastating. You tighten around him, signaling you were close. But he decides to keep you there, just to see how you would react.

Mind and body on the edge of surrender — you don’t know why, but you couldn’t let yourself go just yet. Like he had to be the one to say it. Like you needed proof it was all real.

His thumb comes up to your clit, swiping back and forth. Pressing just enough to ground you between each relentless thrust of his other hand into that spot that made your vision blur.

“Don’t hold back, want to feel it.”

He breathes out the command while placing a quick, gentle peck against your temple. Having no right to be as sweet as it was given the current context.

With one last nip to your throat, the taut coil he had patiently built began to snap. And you start to come. Hard.

The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure near reaching ecstasy. His name followed by a string of moans poured from your throat — the sound of it, raw and earnest, only sprawled him on further. Your core clenched around his fingers incessantly while he pressed as deep as you could take him.

Your thighs involuntarily jerk closed around his forearm. But he doesn’t stop — fully intent on helping you ride it out as you quickly learned how long an orgasm could actually be. His breathing was heavy as he watched, focused. Feeling the rhythm of your core eventually slow around his fingers, muscles lax and blissed out.

Before overstimulating bordered on painful, he gently pulled his fingers from you. Slick heat dripped down off the lip of the table followed by a shiver down your back at the loss of sensation.

The comedown made everything seem fuzzy around the edges. Completely spent, you look to Robert, still using him as your tether to reality.

And he takes it all in, basking in the state of you. Noting your inhales as they turned into exhales and how your bottom lip was blushed from where his teeth had been.

Gently, he helped you to your feet. You reach out, bracing your hands against his lower abdomen, knees wobbling momentarily as he helped bring the hem of your dress back over your bottom half. Unrushed, he moved to the table to clean up the mess he had made.

Finally, you watch as he bends to the floor, picking up your lace underwear discarded from earlier and tucking them safely into his suit pocket. A shared secret that made your cheeks burn.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Supporting you against his frame, he led you both to the back exit — away from what was sure to end in a lot of questions neither one of you felt like answering at the moment. His thumb brushed carefully back and forth over the small of your back as you walked, like you were something sacred.

tldr: you're a newer dispatcher, you gain a crush on robert robertson, and y'all fuck after a meeting

content ahead: afab reader, some plot then smut, p in v, unprotected (stay safe), hr violation(s) (wouldn't be dispatch without them), consent checks, semi-public, the slightest bit of exhibitionism

word count: 4,646

Originally double date fake was sfw but this is NOT.

SMUT 18+ below the cut. Oh not beta read sorrry

— Pairing: Robert Robertson x Coworker fem!Reader —

* Read Part 1 here *

Description: You send some risqué pictures to Robert before going to an office party together. You both end up leaving early — but not before making good use of a spare empty conference room. On the comedown, you invite him up to your apartment. And upon realizing what happened earlier wasn't nearly enough, neither of you hold back anymore.

2.7k — 18+ minors DNI — Content: alcohol, making out, dry humping, handjob/blowjob, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex

Note: part two is finished! hopefully it lives up to the first. enjoy :) #softdomroberttruther

Your focus returns to the present as you feel Robert’s still-warm suit jacket close around your shoulders, shielding from the bite of night air. Stepping back outside and towards the parking lot together. Still processing. Still reeling.

The friction as you walked, wet and bare beneath the line of your dress, was already building you up again. And now that you had gotten a taste, you had an appetite. How his palm had been flush against heat, fingers deep in you, coaxing out every single feeling you’d repressed since day one. God, you wanted more. Greed was a vice you didn’t often indulge, thinking to yourself he should take that as a compliment.

You glance to his fingers as they curled around the door handle of the car, helping you in. Taunting, a reminder of how they had just undone you. Once seated, Robert takes a moment, silently checking on you before turning the key in the ignition.

Meanwhile, you were thinking of ways to return the favor. You knew he would protest. Walls came down brick by brick, not in one swoop.

Regardless, something had shifted — and neither of you wanted to go back. So, hesitation was self-righteous at best and pointless otherwise. Band-aid ripped off and wound bared. Raw, open, real. A little dangerous, but risk was a necessary evil. And maybe a fun one too.

Right now, you just wanted to show him how much you were willing to give in return; aching to, honestly. Was it slightly self-invested? Yes. Was it also genuine? Absolutely. Desire was a multifaceted endeavor, which he deserved in equal respect.

Eventually pulling up to your place, he puts the car in park, looking to you.

“Want to come inside?” You utter, not wanting to leave him like that. Not wanting to leave him at all.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” And he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

You take him up to your floor, apartment key fumbling through tipsy fingers as you opened the door. Sliding off your heels followed as you hung his suit jacket nearby.

“Here,” You lead him to the living room before heading towards the kitchen to get some water for you both.

Returning, glasses in hand, you set them on the coffee table as you stood in front of where he sat on the edge of the couch.

“Need anything? Something to eat?” You ask, the role of polite host kicking in despite the egregious lack of formality that brought you both here.

Robert found it sweet; you wanting to take care of him. Like that made any sense given what just occurred. His hand moved to the back of your thigh, tracing up and down reassuringly.

“I’m fine. Promise.” All disarming with his brown eyes and freckles.

It made you want to drop forward into his lap. Knees straddling and arms wrapping around his neck, keeping him close. Which is exactly what you did.

“I just don’t want you to leave yet.” You murmured into his neck. It hit him square in the chest. A longing near physically painful, he recognized all too well.

He hums in response; a dead man walking. His arms wrapped around you, long breaths and calm heart beating against his. Savoring it. Innocent and near domestic in a way that felt scarily right.

Until your hands traced down his chest and your mouth found his again, slower and sweeter — until his hands tangled back in your hair and yours lowered to his waistband.

With a gentle tug, your mouth parts and he takes full advantage, slipping deeper. Dress riding up as his hips pressed into you. Whether it was intentional or not didn’t matter. No dignity in the way you were still bare beneath your dress, ruining the outside of his pants and no shame in the way he was enjoying it either.

He groaned at how earnest you were.

“It’s late. You should rest.”

“It’s only ten,” You exhale. “Want you — need you, please.” You ground down against him to emphasize your point, which was quickly returned with an upward roll of his hips in response.

His knee-jerk reaction was to let things cool down back to a comfortable simmer, lest he be burned. If he were lying to himself, he would say that was what he wished to do right now. Because wanting someone so badly it bordered on a need as fundamental as oxygen scared the shit out of him. But something about you had always made him too honest.

“Okay.”

You observe him, now a bit apprehensive yourself.

“You sure?” Suddenly worried that you were being pushy. Or that he didn’t want you to that extent, or maybe he was already regretting what had happened, or —

You feel his hand slide around to cup the side of your face, taking your lovesick, hungry eyes in his own.

“Yes.” He utters the single word with the amount of conviction usually reserved for when lives were at stake. And, well, maybe his was.

It wiped away any doubt you had left.

You move your hand to smooth over his length through slick fabric. He groans, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. “One condition,”

You look up at him, eager.

“You tell me if it’s too much.” He says sternly but not without warmth, leaning to kiss once under the curve of your jaw. “Deal?” The offer rumbles low and hot against your cheek as his hands come down, tracing the curve of your hips.

“I’ve done plenty more in one night than this.” Your retort would’ve sounded a lot cooler had your delivery not come out heady and a bit strained.

“Is that a challenge?” His gaze flits down to your lips, smiling. A man who didn’t seek out challenge, per se, but wouldn’t back down if an especially beautiful one ended up in his lap.

You lean in, lips near the shell of his ear as your fingers began to work down the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll take whatever you give me.”

Now, that shot heat straight under his skin.

Once his shirt hung open, you traced a hand down his chest — just slow enough to see his skin prickle in wait. You shifted off his lap and next to him on the couch, turning to face him as you propped your knees under you on the cushion. Gradually, you start unbuckling his waistband.

His hand smooths over the back of your head gently. Grounding you both without saying a word. You look up at him, his breathing was heavier than before, eyes trained on where your hands slid under fabric, pulling him out.

You wrap your fingers around just the head to start, twisting up and down. And the way his breath hitched did more than any praise ever could. You spread what he had leaked fully down his length, soothing the friction as you add just enough pressure to make his mind go blank.

“Mm,” He moans, and a single noise had never sounded so sweet. “Just like that.”

You continue, stroking up and down his length. Fully hard in your grasp now, and if it weren’t so lewd, you would tell him your mouth was watering. So, you settled on showing him instead.

You leaned forward, lowering your face into his lap. Your tongue traces around the tip, catching its wet grievances on your tongue, before pulling back to leave a short kiss above the base. The act sent a twitch through his nerves and down his cock, giving you a certain satisfaction you didn’t know you needed until now.

Finally, you take him in.

The feeling of your cheeks hollowing around him as you sunk down was gut-wrenching, perfect. Mind-numbing in a way he assumed most drugs couldn’t even touch. Your nose bumped into skin, holding yourself there before slowly sliding back off. Spit dribbles down your lip as you catch your breath and he swipes it away with his thumb. Always attentive to you no matter the circumstance — and, fuck, did it turn you on.

You take him in your mouth again, this time reaching your hands around the base to supplement. The sound as you pushed his cock in and out was obscene, shooting something molten through his veins.

“Fuck — you’re really good at that.” He gasped with a strangled chuckle.

He was in disbelief of whatever he had done to deserve this. Never having bought into religion, he found himself thinking that maybe there was a god — some sort of higher power. And it existed in the form of you making him whole and then broken again within the same drag of your lips.

Previously braced against the side of your head, you feel his hand drift down your back, stopping to push down gently at the base of your spine, indicating for you to lift your hips. You follow suit, arching your back for him.

His hand smooths down the curve of your ass and traces up and down the back of your thigh once, as if thanking you, before then lining up his fingers to your entrance once again. He slides them into you carefully, noting how you squeezed around one finger, quickly followed by a second.

Thrusting in and out of you, he matches the pace of your mouth. You hummed around his length, taking his fingers at the same time. It made you feel depraved in the best way — only for him.

Each take of your mouth got faster, and he followed, plunging deeper until you were so dizzy you were acting on baseline instinct: don’t stop. However, Robert wanted to pace himself.

Gently, he pulls his fingers from you. You feel them wrap around the back of your neck, careful but firm, causing your core to flutter around the emptiness in protest. You look up at him, dazed.

“So pretty.” He remarks, entirely sincere.

Despite everything that had happened so far, this made you blush the most. Aching for more and skin flushed hot, he didn’t want to make you wait any longer.

You sit back up, lifting your arms as his hands reach to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up over you. You were a sight to behold, he thought, kissing your stomach as he went. It knocked the air right out of his lungs.

Dress off and forgotten, he guides you by the waist, laying you down on your back against the cushions and positioning himself above you.

“Bed?” He asks, slightly breathless. Worried that taking you on the couch read a bit too casual than this all meant to him.

You shake your head, too impatient. “Next time.” You nip at his bottom lip, sealing the promise.

And Robert knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After adding a pillow underneath your hips, he takes his length in his palm. Stroking a few times as you watched, hungry.

“Please,” You beg. “Want to feel you.”

“I know.” He coos, leaving an open-mouthed kiss under your ear. “Just wanted to hear you say it.”

Had his admission not made you so lightheaded, you might have rolled your eyes.

Ultimately just as impatient as you were, he brought the tip to your entrance, finally sinking into you. Slow, so you felt every drag of his length against your walls. You couldn’t help but clench around his cock as he fully seated himself inside you, sending a raw shiver up his abdomen.

The angle of your hips had him pushed up against that same spot he found earlier. He was fairly certain, but brought his palm over your stomach to check. Pressing just enough to feel you involuntarily tighten around him — definitely it. You whine, but he moves quickly, swallowing it down as his lips caught yours.

After one more tender kiss to remind you that he cares, he starts thrusting in and out of you. Easy at first, reading your reaction. Once he was sure you could handle more, he picked up the pace.

Realistically, you knew the drinks had to be leaving your system by now. But you still felt buzzed — drunk on him alone. On the way he filled you up over and over until you didn’t know where he started and you ended.

Sharp noises broke from your throat as he pushed into you, not letting up. Still, you wanted more.

“Harder,” You choked out, throwing away the last shred of propriety you had left.

He wanted to question it — to check in. But the most he could muster was a twitch upward of his brow before letting the fire of your words burn away his conscious. Giving in.

Each snap of his hips met yours, dedicated and stronger. Hitting that spot deep inside your core that made you see stars. Your pulse thumped in your peripheral as his hand smoothed strands of hair from your face. He watched intently as his breathing grew more labored, revering in the image of you.

Your arms wrap around his neck momentarily as you bear down on his cock, noticing the muscles coiling low in your stomach. Body indicating you were on the edge of surrender before you could admit it. Robert, never missing a detail, drags your focus back up to him as he speaks.

“You close?” He breathes out.

Your throat hitches. “Almost.”

“Lift your knee for me.” He instructs, patting your right leg. You follow. For fucks sake, he could tell you to grab the moon from the sky and you’d find a way to do it if it meant you could always have him like this.

His hand runs down your calf, bringing your leg up over his shoulder and deepening the angle of his thrust in one motion. To his delight, it resulted in the most beautiful moan falling from your lips he’d heard yet.

He makes good use of this new position, rutting further as you both clung to the edge a little longer. You notice him twitch inside you, and he sensed you holding back again — seemingly a habit of yours. One he intends to help you break.

“Look at me,” He commands, voice still soft but with his own need peeking around the edges. You train your eyes on his, suddenly noticing the way he was looking at you. Like you were the center of everything.

“Let go." He turns to peck a hasty kiss to your ankle still held against the slope of his shoulder. "I’ve got you.”

You couldn’t hold back much longer. Stubborn to your own dismay. His other hand reaches down, rubbing fast circles over your clit as he drove into you. Overwhelming in the best way.

“Fuck, ah — ” Body eventually caving, you cry out as your climax crashes over you.

It came in violent, unforgiving waves. Euphoric, eyes rolling back as his cock seated itself so deep you were sure to memorize the sensation. He didn’t stop pumping into you, tip brushing that spot from earlier as he saw how long he could make this one last. You deserved it. All the pleasure he could give.

Strangled moans and a few expletives poured out of your mouth. Your hips jerk up, core clenching around him so desperately now he was the one seeing stars. He groans, not able to hold out anymore.

Before impulsive turned into reckless, he pulled out of you, wrapping a hand around his cock as his release spilled out across your stomach in hot, devoted pulses. He gasped roughly, his hand eventually coming to a slow on his length.

You were still throbbing between your thighs as the aftershocks rippled through your system. Every nerve tingling; a reminder that you were alive. He gently brought your leg back down, letting go, then bracing one hand beside your head on the cushion. The other cradled your face as he breathed you in.

“You okay?” He asks softly, admiring his work. Like he wasn’t equally as fucked out.

“Mhm.” A hum was all you could manage.

After taking a moment to tidy up, he brings you against him. Arms curling you into his torso. Warm. Breathes in sync and minds completely lost; a nice change of pace.

You feel the stubble along his jaw brush your cheek. “We should have done that way sooner.”

A small laugh comes from you in response. You shake your head lazily, tracing the line of a scar across his chest with your finger.

“Guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

He smiles. You always were the more optimistic of you both.

Talk about reading my mind… ouh this is getting the brain worms some good food five star, four course.

CW: fingering, squirting, explicit language, Sex, etc. ‼️MDNI‼️

I really feel like with Flambae he’s aggressive and quick paced, wanting to make you squirt. Like it’s a prize of some kind for him. So he takes you back to his place, after talking up a big game of course. He pins you down kisses you with passion, and undresses you quick, and needy. Makes you comfortable and goes to town on your cunt. Long stride-full tongue lapping up every drop you leak out. Rubbing your clit in that sweet little way that gets you loud. you grip your sheets, and he can’t help but go faster, rub harder. Makes you scream. You can’t count how long he goes for your overstimulated and whiney beneath him. He smirks, a sick little evil grin. You can see it in his eyes when he starts eating you out like a starved man, your juices running down his chin until you can’t hold it anymore, you squirt. Shivering and squirming as you come down from the intense high.

with Sonar He tends to be more careful, he fears his nose will get in the way but, you don’t care as you stand over him, letting him grab your thighs, he’s so horny from all the dirty things you’ve already said to him, so he practically makes out with your cunt. Lapping at it like a mad man as he grips your thighs. You can’t explain the texture on his tongue but god does it feel like heaven on earth. After a while he has to hold you up from how bad your knees buckle, and when you look down you shiver as you watch him take a long blissful lick down your cunt. That’s when you snap and every move, every lick, every lap he makes, makes you quiver and moan. You can’t hold it anymore you know you can’t then he sucks that sweet spot and all you can do is release all over his face. You look down as your high wears off afraid he might be upset but all you see is the most jolly and blissful man alive.

Waterboy however is shy, doesn’t know much so of course you have to teach him. You lay him down and position yourself over his face sitting on it when he’s ready, slowly moving until he figures himself out, and when he does? fuck you can’t stop yourself. Practically smothering him with your cunt. If you could think clearly you’d think you were suffocating him, but the way he laps at your cunt so greedily tells you he’s fine. You stop holding back, practically grinding on his face, and when he starts moaning into your cunt? That’s when you lose it all. You grind til you can’t feel your legs. Moans so loud you can hear anything else you ride and ride and ride til a wave of pleasure hits you and you lose all sense of self squirting so hard you swear you’ve never felt that good in your life. When you finally get up to check on him the poor guy has came in his pants untouched. What a cutie.

Robert, likes to finger you, no not likes… LOVES. the way you look the way you sound. It drives him crazy. His favorite thing is when he’s got you on your back infront of a mirror, you watch his fingers, methodically they go in and out in and out as his thumb rubs that sweet spot on your clit. You mewl and whine, as you cum on his fingers but that’s not enough for him. So he gets down and kneels between your thighs kissing down them and smiling teasing you until he licks a long stripe down your folds, kissing your clit and then letting loose, face buried in your slick, licking every sweet spot, sucking your sensitive clit and fingering just that right spot that has you practically shaking from pleasure, as you grip his hair. He gives your clit one more kiss before he starts going faster and faster, every moan boosts his ego more and more, he can’t help himself but make you squirt all over him especially when you shake and moan so loud, he didn’t know he could ever get harder then he is now. But you’re full of surprises, he licks every bit of slick and juice that pours from your cunt. Practically encasing himself in the moment, wanting every second to last just a bit longer.

ugh I need them guys….

Robert is the number one munch, absolutely WHINES into it too, moans creating vibrations that send a shock to your nerves. that have you cumming on his face so hard that you don’t even realize your practically smothering him. You’d feel bad if wasn’t for that stupid smirk on his face telling you just how much he enjoys it. Although he loses it when you ask to fuck him in the suit. Lord forbid a person dream… god he’s sexy.

MDNI -

AFAB reader,

Smut with microscopic plot…. SNS 💋

Robert who has the most cocky and condescending attitude, with a pair of jeans that match it perfectly. A little “lucky you” tag with a clover sewn behind the zipper. So while you unzip his plants your reminded how lucky you are to be fucking sexy asshole.

Because when you take his thick cock out of those ever stretching boxers. Looking up at him with those pretty sparkly eyes a condescending smile on your pretty face as you struck his fat girth. You really do start to feel feel lucky. 🍀

Biting your lip you look down at the tip leaning over kissing it while pushing your hair back. He takes that as his Que to take a hand to the back of your head. Guiding that pretty face to take that fat cock down your throat. And you do with a big fat smile.

He can’t lie it fills his pride to hear you choke and watching you tear up is even better.

“Bite off more than you can chew sweetheart?” He practically groans watching you struggle. You let out soft muffled moans. He’d never admit it but when he looks at you sometimes. He imagined just this you taking him whole down past those pretty lips he wants to kiss so badly.

He’s a whipped man. He’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact you practically whipped him into this shape. Being so sweet when you wanted your way and only giving him affection when you got what you wanted. Like a cat. He thinks to himself watching you take another big gulp licking up his length licking up that vein that makes his head throw back.

He groans. Gutturally. Making you whine and stuff his cock back into your warm mouth. he’s infatuated with that glossy look in your eyes. Bobbing your head so obediently between his legs. Muffled moans falling on deaf ears. What he’d do to hear what you’re saying to him.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you practically whine. And suck on his pretty pink tip laying a fat kiss down as you stroke him faster and faster with your tongue out. Eager. Waiting for his warm cum in your mouth. Waiting so patiently with a soft smile on your face looking into his eyes. He finally cums spurting on to your face he quivers from the sensation of his release.

While watching the cum run down his length you lick a stripe up the falling streak licking every bit up not leaving a single drop.

He wishes he could hold himself back right now. He feels awful for the way he grabs you up like you weigh nothing flipping you over on your back and fucking his tip into you. Thrusting so hard into you he swears he’ll be releasing his cum into you poor womb sooner than later.

he knows you wouldn’t complain. How could you? You’ve been so nice to him giving him what he wants. This is just one more thing. Having you on your back whining and mining out his name like a symphony for him. He could cum just from that sweet hazey look in your eyes. The drool that streams down your chin that he so sweetly swipes away for you.

Watching you come apart has him writhing in his own ego. Felling his every thrust. Every time his tip kisses your womb it feels like heavens right where the two of you are. That you could never feel this good again.

You know you couldn’t. You’d been trying to fuck him for weeks on end. Being so patient. Trying everything you knew how to get him in bed with you. Coming over to his house in shorts way too short but the final blow?

inviting him over in that practically see through tank top with stripes of your favorite color. No bra, and panties. Acting as if it were so normal. It made you shy at first but every time his eyes wandered you gained more confidence.

More and more confidence until you were straddling his lap practically begging him to take you.

and that’s how you ended up here getting everything you ever wanted and then some. As he fucks your brains out til your a dumb sopping wet mess under him. Pounded pathetically as you praise him. He fucks you til you both cum so sweetly together moans and groans mix into one sound making it hard to breathe.

He treats you to ice cream on the couch. Kissing your face and talking to you til your both asleep in each others arms.

A/N: computer how to 3D print real life, Alive Robert to fuck me IRL??? 😔

What I need Robert to do to me ⬇️