various dispatch fics
a collection of dispatch fics that we've read
(Open, Moderated)
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Summary
“H-here I’ll just…” Waterboy said as he reached his hands up and tucked them under the hem of Robert’s underwear and pulled them down, releasing the other’s length from where they were hidden beneath his clothing.
Waterboy admired the other’s dick momentarily, letting his eyes fall from his tip, down every vein, and settling on his balls. He then moved his head forward, parted his lips, and stuck his tongue out.
Robert choked on a gasp as he felt his cock become free from its confines and seconds later, feeling the other’s tongue against the underside of it.
“Wh-whaaat the fuck are you doing?!” Robert shuddered as he felt the other’s tongue lick up the underside of his shaft until he settled his lips around his head and gave it a suck. Robert shivered.
Waterboy glanced back up at Robert and pulled his lips away to answer.
“H-helping…?” Waterboy replied, though he had spoken as if his response were a question.
“Hooow is sucking my dick helping this situation exactly?” Robert retorted, but Waterboy placed both of his hands on either one of Robert's thighs.
“Well, I-...you have an erection because of me, so-so I figured I’d…help you get rid of it…?”
Series
- Part 3 of Kinktober 2025
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Summary
Flambae finally learns the trick to getting Robert to go to sleep: laying on top of him.
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My hands are not clean (they can still carry you home) by Arcturus_Ish
Fandoms: Dispatch (Video Game)
30 Nov 2025
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Summary
The thing about plastic chairs is that they weren't a great substitute for an actual bed; the other thing is, Robert can't exactly afford to be picky and even if he 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 the internal debate is still ongoing as to whether or not he deserves a mattress at this current point in his life.
So, the plastic chair stays and is staying for the foreseeable future. Besides, it's charming - in a depressing, minimalism-that-is-totally-not-a-reflection-of-his-inner-sense-of-worth way.
Or:The fic where Robert has chronic pain and Flambae has warm hands. The two of them will figure out what to do about that eventually, right?
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Summary
It was supposed to be a joke.
It was supposed to be a one-off thing to mock the team for how immature they were being.
So why the fuck was it working??
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Summary
Flambae's jaw tightened, a crimson flush creeping up his neck. "Don't flatter yourself, Robert. It's the situation. The… intensity. Not you."
Robert's initial shock gave way to a slow, wicked grin. "The 'intensity?’ What, do you get off on being put in your place, Flambae? Is that your secret kink?"