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The city was oddly quiet for once. At least just enough. You've been patching him up in intervals ever since Los Angeles was almost flipped upside down by the Red Ring, and although you weren't a superhero, you still used your powers to help out in some capacity. Robert couldn't be anymore grateful. For everything.
The warm breeze that came through the window was no bother. Your place was always the go-to even before he was nearly flat broke. Your apartment was far cozier and generally livable. You insisted that he move in but after the thirtieth try, he admitted that he'd feel like a burden. And that there wouldn't be a point if he's just going to be gone all the time. He had this sentiment when he was doing hero work and it still holds now that he's a dispatcher. Even though you wholeheartedly disagree, you digress. Your boyfriend's wishes came with great respect because of everything he does for the city and you just love him that much.
It was dark but the city lights illuminated parts of your room, cascading over the side of your face. You were just...mesmerizing. He could stare at you for hours. Funny, because he actually has. The few photos of you together that are hung up in his room? On those off days, there's not a single part that goes overlooked. And, honestly, he might be overthinking it but he swears he finds something new about your appearance every time. He legitimately cannot get enough. It's impossible.
"...but I still don't feel bad at all about throwing that spaghetti at him-" he grunted softly at the same time you were patting a deep scar on his shoulder. A look of concern replaced your focused one.
"Too hard?"
"If you're asking about the cotton ball, no," he said. This sentence could've easily worked as a general sentiment if he wasn't kneading the fat of your thighs. You narrowed your eyes, shifting your weight by a centimeter. His jaw flexed and his calloused palms slid up to your hips clad in your conveniently short nightgown. "You're trouble."
"I don't know what you mean," you lightly shrugged and went to clean a cut on his temple. It went smoothly until he grunted again.
"Ya know, when you suggested that sitting in my lap would make me feel better while you tended to my wounds, I didn't think sitting pretty on my dick was included with the care package."
You pulled back and folded your arms, smushing your breasts together. He almost already forgot what the conversation was about.
"You didn't say no."
"Well, yeah, because I thought it'd take my mind off the ghost-knife wound in my side."
"Is it not?"
"Oh, it definitely is," he claims, "it's just difficult not to keep going back and forth between wanting to muster the strength I have left to bounce you in my lap or let you do your job. Pain or pleasure type of thing."
You didn't respond immediately to feel how his body was responding.
"The twitching says otherwise," you comment, "I can't finish if you're going to be impatient."
"And I can't finish if you're going to be patient," he pauses for comedic effect, "looks like we're at a crossroads, baby."
"Looks like it," you agreed. You were having a face off but he folded within the minute. Robert always felt so greedy when it came to you. Every time he catches a whiff of your hair or hears your laugh or catches you staring in the mirror too long trying to figure out if your outfit is on par, his heart could explode out of his chest.
"You have such pretty eyes," he said softly, one hand brushing your cheek. "I ever tell you that?"
"Only all the time," you said. He chuckled.
"Then I take it back." he added. "I love you."
Now it was your turn to melt. He didn't say it often because he didn't want it to lose meaning. To save it for the moments he knew you'd 100% appreciate hearing it come from his lips.
"I don't say it nearly enough as I should, but-"
"I know," you gently cut him off and held his hand before releasing it and wrapping your arms around him. "I love you more."
He playfully scoffs. "Impossible," he murmured, daring to pull you a little closer to his chest while leaning in closer. Your lips ghosted his and he spoke softly again. "Don't tease."
"But you're so pretty when you beg," you whispered and kissed him slow. When your hips started to rock a bit he moaned into your mouth. The soft pads of his fingers squeezing your sides when you lifted them just enough for it to move from cock-warming to almost riding.
"Please, baby, please..." he whispered against your lips. You smiled and kissed him again. He's had a long few days, so you decide against making him work for it. This time.
You sank back down and felt him tense beneath you. Not out of discomfort or pain from his recent wounds, but because nothing compared to being snug inside you. It was like a warm embrace.
"Wanna make you feel good," you muttered while setting a slow pace. His cold hands long since slipped under your nightgown. He shuddered and gently guided you, eyes half lidded.
"You always had a knack for that," he replied and closed his eyes for a moment. Pure. Fucking. Bliss.
You slid the gown down past your shoulders so it would fall and pool at your hips. When he opened his eyes, they were stuck on yours for a long moment before drifting down to your bare upper body. Watching you ride him and how your breasts bounce every time your thighs meet his. This was nothing new for him. He was unfazed by many things in his life, but this one thing. You. Sometimes he genuinely cannot believe you're his.
He looked up at you getting yourself off. Listening to your sighs and soft gasps. Occasionally breaking eye contact when you'd drop a certain way that had him hit the angle that gets you there quicker.
When you felt him harden and look up at you with those perfect brown eyes, you knew you had him. That he was finally letting himself go. Finally letting himself feel.
Feeling his hands grip your hips tighter, you leaned down to kiss him once more. This time rougher; more passion. He groaned into your mouth, hips bucking up to meet yours as the pleasure struck his veins. You could feel him throbbing inside you.
Breaking the kiss, you sat up and braced your hands on his chest. You started to move faster, your breasts bouncing with every roll of your hips.
The sounds that filled the room were downright sinful. Moans and groans increasing in volume every up and down. Sweaty skin slapping against each other.
"You were right," his deep voice cut through the fog that was your mind. "I feel so much fuckin' better, baby. More than you could- fuck imagine."
His words only spurred you on, causing you to pick up the pace. Riding him harder. Faster. You both could feel your climax approaching, your walls starting to flutter around him.
"Who makes you feel this way?" you asked, sliding one hand up to cup his jaw. "Who makes you feel good?"
"Only you," he nearly cut off your second question. His eyes flicked between your face and your chest, drinking in the erotic sight of you losing yourself in the pleasure. "Only- you-"
His eyes shut tight as he came faster than he thought. He cursed and exhaled deeply, but that didn't stop him from helping you chase your high. He wasn't going to let this end before you got what you deserve.
"Don't stop," he grunted and held you tighter, looking back up at you, "don't fuckin' stop. I got you. Use me."
Each drag of his thick shaft against your sensitive spots sent jolts of electricity through your body. You changed the angle of your hips and cried out in ecstasy as he hit that sweet spot dead-on, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck-"
Your movements became erratic as you chased your rapidly approaching climax. The room filled with the symphony of making love to one another. The creaking of the bed, the slick glide of flesh on flesh, and the increasingly profane desperate sounds spilling from your lips. One of many states he finds you the most beautiful in.
Finally, that coil snapped. Your orgasm was like a slingshot as the force hit you without preparation. Your walls clamping down around him like a vice as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Robert held you tightly as you rode out your high.
"I got you...I got you..." he whispered into your shoulder. You may have painted his lap with slick but he didn't give a fuck.
As you both calmed down in each other's arms, he used the bit of strength he had left to gently flip you into your back. He couldn't stop himself from peppering your face with soft kisses, starting with your heavy, tired eyes.
"I know you have another in you," he mused quietly then kept kissing you. You playfully scoffed and wrapped your legs around him.
"One more before we go to sleep?"
He backed up slightly with a genuine small smile, the softest he's spoken in a minute.
"I'll make sure you're first this time."