Robert Robertson Fanclub

Need an outlet for my new hyper fixation. Really only focusing on x reader fics and Invisigal x Robert Robertson ~ Requests: OPEN

[beeffromdispatch]

Girl, do you have anything with Robert x and innocent-ish reader?

It doesn't have to be like a crazy naive reader, but just a more innocent one? I love you. Muah

Omgggg I’ll get on that asap!! Life has been so hectic lately so I haven’t been on here much, but I’m so excited to write this!!

Love you too pookie🫶 thanks for your patience

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Robert Robertson runs hot. He usually sleeps in boxers, fan on, his body sprawled across the bed. When you first start spending the night, he tries to do the boyfriend thing and hold you, even though his arms fall asleep in the first twenty minutes and he ends up a sweaty mess.

He's not comfortable enough to suggest other arrangements until a few months in, when your things have crowded beside his on the nightstand, in the bathroom, by the door. Evidence that you plan to stay.

Only then does he tell you you’re a blanket hog, and you tell him he’s a space heater, and decide that as long as some body part is touching it still counts as romantic.

Which is how you end up sleeping soundly with Robert’s arm thrown around your waist from a distance, his back brushing yours, your heads angled so your hair spills over onto his pillowcase, or your butts pressed together while you curl up facing opposite directions. Sometimes you half-wake to find him sliding his foot over to your side of the bed in his sleep, mumbling anxiously before relaxing when he brushes against your leg.

< more Robert here (smut) and here (fluff) >

[mandythinksalot]

thought about Robert being the clingiest man in the mornings. hes so used to not sleeping comfortably (he literally has a mattress on the floor and a plastic chair he sometimes sleeps in) that the moment he starts sleeping at your place its basically impossible to get him up.

he loves waking up and just cuddling with you for thirty minutes minimum, pulling you close in your comfortable plush bed and just taking in your scented. he does not let you leave before those thirty minutes are up.

obviously beef gets to be a part of the cuddles, probably squeezed in between you both.

[witherediris]

getting strict on beef’s diet and exercise habits because you know robert will spoil and overfeed the boy until it’s concerning and you don’t exactly want beef ending up at the vet for something serious.

he’s weak to his SON so it breaks his heart when beef is begging for something and he can’t give him that because you’re looming nearby. robert really does care for beef though and understands why you’re so strict. he tries his best to comply with your new routine for beef and ignore the puppy eyes (hopefully offer chin scratches instead)

“sorry buddy, mom said no.”

—

witherediris does not use mom spelling where she is from… and as much as i love robert x reader being z team parents, before they are the z team parents, they are beef’s parents. had to write about it somehow.

[threadbearsweater-deactivated20]

she might let you stay (but just for the night) | robert robertson, dispatch

When you start working at SDN, the last thing you expect is to fall for one of your coworkers. It's probably a bad idea, and there are probably people who are betting on your inevitable downfall, but who can blame you when said coworker charms the pants off of you (quite literally)?

A/n: 4k words, minimal to no editing (I haven't written smut in forever and I think I forgot how) female reader; lots of making out; they both get pretty drunk; sleepy sex, lots of banter. Robert is sarcastic, earnest, and adorable. Cameos by a few members of the Z team. Special shoutout to Beef, who plays an important role in the order of events here.

Robert charms his way into your life with his dry humor and half smiles, his careless hairstyle and ill-fitting clothes. He makes you laugh more than anyone, and you’re a little bit embarrassed about the way you giggle like an idiot at everything he says. You’re afraid he thinks you’re a little dense; maybe he does, but just a little. He finds it endearing, and it makes him feel good that you find him funny. 

He brings out a side of you that you thought was lost. To adulthood. To the daily grind, to weekdays spent pining for the weekend, when you could afford to let your hair down (so to speak) and enjoy the fruits of your labor. When you start hanging out with the rest of the crew after work on Friday nights, he’s the first one to give you the rundown of the group dynamic: who’s fucking who, who has beef, who had the most successful rescues and who was at risk of being cut. He’s straightforward in a very smart, concise way. You could listen to him talk for hours. 

No, really. You’re content to nurse your drink and listen to him for as long as he wants to talk. Robert, on the other hand, begins to feel a little self-conscious when you haven’t said anything for quite some time.

He ducks his head a little and flashes that lopsided grin, tapping a finger against your forehead. “You, ah…you falling asleep on me?”

You blink slowly a couple of times; a lucid smile blooms across your face. “Yeah, no. I just– I just like hearing you talk. I mean, I like the stories you tell about the heroes. You really care for them, don’t you?”

Robert scoffs and rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah. I’ve kinda built my team from the ground up, you know? They’re like family at this point.” He’s pink, high in his cheekbones, around his eyes. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe he’s feeling shy. “I do. I care about them a lot.”

You nod and take a moment to look around the room; it’s warm in more than one sense of the word. Robert’s hand on yours gives you pause, and you look up at him with a soft, dreamy sort of smile. “They care about you too, you know.”

He meets your gaze. “Do they?”

“Yeah. We– I mean, I– I, um– they do.” Shit.

“Thought so,” he says. So sure of himself. You envy how secure he is in who he is and what he wants. How effortless it is for him to just be and not second guess every little decision he makes. You wonder how long it took to cultivate such confidence; part of you even speculates that maybe it’s a mask for something darker, something not quite as put together as he projects.

You wonder if you can peel back those layers. You wonder if he’ll let you in, or if what you see is what you get. You think that there’s no better time than the present to find out. And judging by the curious, inviting way he pulls you in with those eyes of his, you think maybe he wants to be discovered. 

When he kisses you, it’s so easy. He doesn’t force it, but it isn’t a question, either. It’s a statement. I like you, he says with his gentle breath on your mouth and a guiding hand along your jaw. You’re pretty, he says, the hint of his tongue tracing along your bottom lip, the smallest little sound left on your cheek before his lips find yours again. So soft. His forehead pressed against yours, fingers spread under and behind your ear. 

He pulls away and you follow, hungry and breathless. He presses a thumb to your lips and you open your eyes, still buzzing from the way his kiss filled in some empty part of you that you never knew existed.

“We shouldn’t, ah– we should probably stop. For now.” The soft brown of his eyes is all but lost to the hungry way his pupils dilate under the low lights; you can barely tear your eyes away from him. “They’re watching,” he says, tilting his head just slightly toward the rest of the room.

All eyes are on you, and you want to melt into the patent leather booth when they all start cat-calling and cheering. Malevola begrudgingly hands Punch-Up a wad of cash, Blonde Blazer lifts a glass in toast, and Flambae and Prism argue over who’s going to sing karaoke next.

You’ve barely been at this job for a month, and you already feel like part of this makeshift family. Falling for Robert is just the icing on the cake.

His arm around your shoulder anchors you to earth. The crew goes back to whatever they were focused on before your kiss, and Robert grabs your hand, bringing your palm to his lips.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Your eyes widen as your alcohol-addled brain tries to process what he's suggesting. Robert senses what you're thinking and squeezes your hand, a look of apology on his face. 

“Oh, no! Not like that. Not. I mean, we don't have to, if you don't want to. I just meant, like, let's go for a walk or something. God.” He drags his hand down his face and blows a raspberry. “I'm not trying to fuck you.” Yet. Unless that's what you want. 

Every bit of air leaves your lungs as you dramatically bend forward and press your face against the table. “Thank God, because I was worried that you liked me or something.” 

He laughs at that, then nudges your cheek with his index finger. “C'mon. The fresh air will feel good.”

He's right. As soon as you leave, the chill of the night air fills your lungs and you feel like a new person. Snow flurries glitter under the yellow glow of the street lamps, and your footsteps leave tracks in tandem on the city sidewalk. The snow blankets everything in a calm, soft white, muting the sound of car engines and conversations. It feels intimate, expectant. Full of anticipation.

You don't really have a destination, though you hope you end up at either his place or yours, eventually. It's quiet downtown for a Friday night. Only a few stray bar flies wander the streets with you, and traffic is sparse. In a way, it feels like the world has created this little pocket of time just for you and Robert. It's so easy. So joyful.

He's funny. Funnier than you'd realized. It isn't often you get to talk to him outside of work and away from everyone else. He's got a great sense of comedic timing and deadpan delivery. Long after your drinks wear off, you're still dizzy and giddy from his company.

But he's so earnest, too. He notices things. He grabs your hand when he sees you lift it to your mouth to blow hot air into your palm to keep warm; he wraps it in his own and and tucks it into the pocket of his coat. He steadies you with a surprisingly strong arm around your waist when you trip on a crack in the sidewalk and pitch forward. 

“Whoa, there.” You’re face to face with him again. He cups your burning cheek with those lithe, cool fingers and thumbs away an eyelash from the side of your nose. So serious. So close. So irresistible. “You good?”

“I did that on purpose,” you breathe, nose to nose with the most beautiful boy you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Wanted to make sure you’d catch me if I fall.”

His eyelashes sweep low, and that cockeyed grin threatens to take you all the way out. “I’d never let you fall.”

“What if I wanted to fall, Robert Robertson the Third?”

His lips brush against yours when he speaks again. “It’s dangerous. You might get hurt.” I don’t want to hurt you.

You open your eyes to see the way his shimmer under the street lamp. “Ouch, I guess.” 

You kiss him again, and again, and again. You kiss him until you can’t remember where you are. Until the streetlamp flickers to sleep and your back is pressed against a cold, unforgiving brick wall. You kiss him when he lifts your legs around his waist and sucks the tender skin of your neck. His hair is softer than you thought it would be when you card your fingers through it and pull his head back to take a bite of his jawline. 

“You live around here?” he pants, hands gliding up over your bare torso. Your feet are back on the ground, but your legs threaten to give out on you when he slips his tongue into your mouth.

Do you? Where are you, even, in relation to the bar? What day is it again? “I don’t remember.” You dissolve into breathless laughter while Robert tugs down the collar of your shirt to suck a bruise into the top of your breast.

Robert laughs, too– a few puffs of air through his nose that warms your sensitive skin. “What’s your address?”

You rattle it off without a second thought. Robert sacrifices his rapt attention to you for a few empty moments while he glances around for a street sign. You watch the way his eyes scan his surroundings; your own shoulders relax when you see him breathe a sigh of sweet relief. “We’re like, two blocks away. Let’s get you home.”

He pulls you along at a frenzied, adrenaline-fueled pace, as if he knows the way to your apartment building better than you. You wait for an eternity for the elevator and seal your mouth over his as soon as the doors close behind you, only to break apart just as quickly when there’s an unexpected stop on the fifth floor. A tired looking janitor pushing an industrial yellow mop bucket boards the elevator with you, and you hide your face in the lapel of Robert’s coat in shame, though there's little that could wipe the smile off your face at this point. If he saw you making out, he doesn't give you any indication, just stares straight ahead and nods absentmindedly to whatever is playing on his headphones.

Thankfully, you're only two floors away from your apartment. Your hand has been in Robert’s for so long that both your palm and his are sweaty and warm. You pull him to your door, fumble with your keys, and tumble inside. When you're met with the first indication of resistance this evening, you falter and gasp, taken aback by how he hesitates. 

“I should probably get home. Beef, he–” He combs a hand through his hair and looks adorably apologetic. “Fuck, I forgot about Beef. I need to go. He's probably pissed at me.” He laughs in spite of himself. His dick is throbbing from being hard for the last hour at least. It makes his head swim and his thoughts cloudy, irrational. He looks at you, at the mark he left on your neck, at the way you lick your kiss swollen lips and look up at him through your eyelashes.

Maybe Beef will be okay for a little while longer…or maybe his guilt won't let him linger in your doorway much longer. 

“Look, I gotta at least go take him outside to piss. I'm so fucking sorry. I'd feel like the world's shittiest dog dad if I didn't.” He thumbs your chin and kisses you, lingering longer than he should. 

“I could come with you,” you offer with a shrug, suddenly feeling like maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You've got a habit of rushing into things that inevitably break your heart, and now you're afraid that you got too caught up in whatever feelings you've been feeling and maybe Robert is looking for an easy way out. Of course his dog is the perfect excuse. “Unless, I mean, you don't– you'd rather just go alone. I understand.”

He looks at you with those melancholy eyes and exhales slowly. “My place isn't…it's kind of a mess right now.” Fuck. Shit. Fuck. “Not that I don't want to be with you. I do. Fuck, I want to so bad.”

The relief that washes over you makes your fingertips buzz and your heart skip. “Oh god, so do I,” you exhale. You sling your arms around his neck and kiss just beneath his ear. “Go get Beef and come back. I'll wait up for you.”

“You serious?”

You nod. “As a heart attack.”

Robert smiles. “He snores really loud.”

“So do I,” you counter.

“Okay, yeah. Okay. I'll be back really soon. I swear.”

You kiss him one more time and step back, shutting the door halfway between you so neither of you are tempted to keep stalling. “I'll warm the bed for you.”

He laughs. You close the door and crumple to the floor. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest; you're trembling from the inside out. You try to steady yourself, to breathe deeply– in through the nose, out through the mouth– but it does little to remedy how keyed up you are. You have no idea how far away Robert lives, or how long it will take him to get back to your place. In a panic, you also realize that you have nothing to feed a houseguest of the canine variety, and you briefly consider running down to the 7-11 on the corner to buy a handful of Slim Jims. 

Instead, you do a little box breathing, grab a glass of water and a few ibuprofen, and kick off your shoes on the way to your bedroom. I’ll just lay down for a minute, you tell yourself. Oh, the naivety isn’t lost on you, but as you peel your jeans off and slip under the covers, the intensity of the evening bears down on you. I’m gonna close my eyes for a second. Just for…a second…

Robert arrives less than 20 minutes later to find the door to your place unlocked. He knocks a handful of times first. He even calls, but when you don’t pick up, he tries the door, thinking maybe you were too distracted to remember to lock it. With Beef cradled in one arm, he pokes his head in and calls your name in a hushed voice. When you don’t answer, he steps inside and shuts the door, lets Beef down to sniff and poke around, and toes off his shoes before making his way around your place. 

He says your name again, opening the bathroom door. “Nope, not there,” he says mostly to himself, though Beef waddles along with him. He looks down at the dog and shrugs. “You think she’s okay?”

Beef’s answer is to sniff the air and trot toward your bedroom. The door isn’t shut all the way, and there’s a faint yellow glow of a bedside lamp that filters into the hall. “Good boy,” Robert says, bending down to give the dog a healthy scratch behind his ears. 

He should probably just leave. It’s definitely a bad idea to stay, to crawl into your cozy looking bed with the patchwork quilt and well-loved pillows that probably smell like your shampoo. You’re passed out– belly on the mattress, arms tucked under your pillow, mouth open just enough that you really are snoring. He chuckles, leaning on his shoulder in the doorway to just…admire you. Is this creepy? It’s probably creepy. Definitely creeper vibes. He pulls his bottom lip under his front teeth and shifts his weight to his other foot. I should go home. I’m going home. “Beef,” he whispers. “Beef, where’d ya go?”

“Stop it, that tickles!” Your voice is muffled, sleepy. Robert sees the shape of you curl into itself and Beef, with his paws on your bed and his long, red tongue licking your face. You laugh and turn your face into the pillow, halfway between asleep and awake.

“Aw, Beef, no! Come on!” Robert scoops him up with one arm; Beef's little legs kick like crazy as if he's trying to run and jump on your bed. You flip the covers down away from your face and squint at Robert, as if the light in the hallway is the light of a thousand suns. 

“Sorry, I must've fallen asleep,” you say, pushing yourself up to sit and rub your eyes, then yawn. Robert thinks he's never seen you more adorable than you look right now.

“It's okay. It's really late.” Beef almost lunges out of his arms. “You wanna see her, buddy? Wanna see if she really snores louder than you?”

You laugh and reach your arms out. Robert deposits Beef into your lap, where he circles a couple of times and flops down, looking up at you expectantly. You scratch the top of his head and smile up at Robert. “Guess this is where he's sleeping.”

“Damn. Missed my chance.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “I'll just crash on your couch and give you two some privacy.”

“Don't be silly.” You pat the space beside you and yawn again. “There's room for you, too.”

“I don't exactly perform well with an audience.” Robert yawns too, then slips under the covers, giving Beef a look that accuses him of having the fucking audacity. The dog just grunts and closes his eyes. 

“Does this mean we aren't gonna do it?” you ask, turning to Robert, touching his cheek.

“Not unless you wanna kick out our third wheel. He's kind of a mood killer.” Robert shifts to his side and rests a hand on your thigh over the blanket. “Do you want to?”

You sigh and lift Beef under his front legs to look him square in his funny little face. “Listen, I know you just got here, but your dad and I have some business to attend to.” You walk him to the door and set him down in the hall where he looks up at you, wagging his tail. “You can sleep here when we're done. Just…give us a little while, okay, Beef?” 

The dog cocks his head to the side, sneezes, then waddles off down the hall to investigate the rest of your apartment. You shut the door and fall back into bed where Robert waits for you, sleepy and slow and warm. You curl yourself into his arms and let him kiss you until you're warm all over again.

It doesn't take long to get back to where you left off. And now that you're alone– truly, utterly alone– you waste no time whatsoever in getting reacquainted with him. He’s stronger than he looks, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he tugs you over him and you straddle his hips as your palms plane his torso under his t-shirt. Robert reaches up to cup your cheeks and pull you down for a kiss at the same time you grind down; he groans so beautifully into your mouth as you slip your tongue over his.

“God, you feel good,” he whispers, hands at your waist to guide you as you roll your hips and unbutton his pants. You both gasp when you wrap your hand around his cock and give it a couple of languid strokes. He is warm, weighty, velvet soft in your hand. Your entire body reacts, anticipating the way he will feel once he’s inside you.

“So do you,” you reply in kind. 

The next few moments pass in a cloudy haze. Sleep deprived, lust-driven, you revel in the way his skin slips against yours, the tender, almost reverent way he kisses you. His hands are everywhere– cupping your cheeks, molding your breasts, skirting across your abdomen and between your thighs to where you are warm and wet for him. He makes the most intense eye contact with you when he curls a finger against your clit. You whimper when he slides it in; your body accepts him so easily it would almost be embarrassing if you didn’t need him so badly. He curls the digit, then slots another one in beside it. You arch your back and grab his waist, raising yourself up just slightly to align yourself with his cock.

With your hand wrapped around him, the head of him pressed lightly just against your cunt, you grin at him where he lies under you– flushed, panting, reverent, ready. “Sure you’re not too tired? I’m tired,” you tease, yawning loud and long with a squeeze to his cock. 

He barks a disbelieving laugh and laces his hands behind his head. “Yeah, maybe we should get some sleep instead.”

You’re throbbing, he’s leaking. “I’m on the pill, by the way. You know, for when we fuck in the morning.” Your heart is racing so fast you can barely catch your breath.

“Noted. Glad we got that cleared up.” He grins at you, and you want to combust. You shift just a little and it sends a jolt of pleasure straight up your spine. “Well, goodnight, then.” And before you can give him a snappy comeback, you’re flipped suddenly on your back as he hovers above you, slipping a hand over your thigh and behind your knee to wrap your leg around his waist.

“You coming in?” you breathe, so close you can count his freckles; the tip of his nose gently butts against your own.

“Yeah.” 

He moves with a quiet intensity, all breath and lithe strength. It’s exactly what you imagined it would be and yet nothing like what you were prepared for. His kisses border on desperate, but you meet them in kind, fingers kneading into the muscles of his back, shoulders, and torso with each thrust. You’re at his mercy, it seems. So you hang on desperately as he pulls and molds you ever closer to him as if he wants you under his skin. Maybe he does. Maybe you’re the first real thing he’s felt in so long that he’s afraid of letting go.

You’re insane for this, he tells himself, in awe of how you feel, how alive and pretty and eager you are. He can’t bring himself to stop, let alone think straight about anything with the way you’re squeezing around him and moaning in his ear with every stroke.

Somehow, he manages to hold off until you cum. Your hands are in his hair, your mouth open against his neck as you cry out and lock your legs around him as if you’re afraid he’s going to stop. You jolt when he thumbs your clit, and that’s all he needs to cum. The eye contact nearly kills you when he pulls himself upward to watch your face, still moving, unhurried strokes that make the most obscene, wet sounds between you. It makes you laugh, which makes Robert laugh, and it’s a total body experience. From your head to your toes, you’re alight, aglow, amused, still aroused despite having one of the best orgasms of your life. Robert thinks he’s never been quite so content.

He flops onto his back and you roll to your side, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat thrums against your ear; he lets his arm fall around you and rubs gentle patterns across your back. “Good sleep,” he says.

You reach for your phone and squint at the screen. 5:47 AM. “The sun will be up soon. Wanna go to the diner at the corner and get coffee?”

Robert’s eyes are closed. He hums in the most content way; his chest vibrates and you curl closer, pulling the blankets up over both of you. “In a second. Just let me rest my eyes first.”

You press a kiss to the center of his chest and hug him tighter against you. “Yeah, good idea. Maybe a shower, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Sleep comes fast. 

Coffee comes a little after noon.

[beeffromdispatch]

A masterpiece truly

[beeffromdispatch]

Robert Robertson X Teacher!Reader Headcannons

•When Robert first met you and found out about your career, he thought it was the sweetest thing in the world. In fact, he was worried that you were way too sweet and innocent for him because of it.

•However, this thought quickly went away when he realized your humor and vocabulary was just as vulgar and explicit as his, if not more.

•Both of your alarms are set for the same early hour so that you can get up and use the SDN gym together (technically it’s for employees only, but no one ever stops you)

•Because both of your jobs pay like shit, you probably only have one car to share, meaning after the gym you drive to work and leave him at the office. That also means you get to pick him up from work everyday after you leave the school.

•Inevitably, you picking him up from work means that the Z-Team sees you and asks Robert TONS of questions about who the hot chick that picks him up everyday is. He tells them all about you and what you do for work, his eyes glowing as he talks about the love of his life.

•You have a photo of you, Robert, and Beef on your desk- the same one he now has on his desk.

•Whenever you talk about Robert to your class, you always call him ‘Mr. Robertson.’ For example…

“Let’s go in a circle and share something fun we are doing over winter break! Mr. Robertson and I are going to go see the Christmas lights in town!”

•Those kids as NOSEY- always asking you about Robert and what he likes to do, what you two did over the weekend, etc.

•Their obsession over him definitely started when you told them that he works with superheroes everyday. They lost their damn minds over that- took a good few minutes to quiet down the classroom after that one.

•The kids also can’t get enough of Beef. You have a picture of him in your morning slides that are displayed at the beginning of class each day. They’re ALWAYS asking for new Beef pictures.

•Whenever you have to cut things out or prep activities, you make Robert help you out the night before. He’ll always pretend to complain, but he secretly loves that quiet time with you. On the couch, your legs draped over his while the tv is on in the background and you chat while cutting out 20-something copies of the same thing.

•You also pack both of your lunches everyday. He always feels bad and insists that you don’t need to go through all of that trouble for him- that he can just grab something at the vending machine. You assure him that it’s no trouble at all and you would rather have him eat an actual meal instead of Twinkies.

•In return, he makes coffee for you both every morning. He knows exactly how you like your coffee and what your favorite travel mug is.

•Whenever you’ve had an extra hard day, he can tell as soon as he gets in the car. Once you two step into your shared apartment he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, letting you sink into him and finally relax.

•He actually tried implementing some of your behavior tactics when he first started with the Z-Team, but they caught on immediately and called him out for treating them like children.

•Speaking of children, when that conversation finally starts, there’s a WHOLE list of names that are now off the table because of their correlation to students.

•Anytime you tell him stories about your day or gush about how much you love your students and how they love you back, his heart feels like it’s going to explode. He can’t fathom how he ended up with someone so caring filled with passion- but he’s grateful for it everyday and makes sure you know that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Def something a little different- haven’t seen this done before so lmk if you like it or actually want a little fic based off of this (or if you totally despise it). It’s lowkey just a self insert LOL but that just means I’m an expert on the subject😎

[beeffromdispatch]

Can’t decide whether or not I want my next little oneshot to be Robert Roberston x Reader or Invisimech. What do you guys think 🎤

Robert Robertson x Reader

Invisimech

Voting ended onDec 9, 2025

I got the idea in my head. It’ll be pretty short- a little fluff and a little smut (freaky duh). Very indecisive and gotta make sure I’m giving the people what they want

[ziseos]

Invisigal/Courtney headcanon:

she likes being called "good girl" by Robert, not only because she has some sort of praise kink, but also because it makes her believe that he really sees the good in her, something she never thought possible.

[scappu]

SPOILERS FOR DISPATCH FINALE

Make her happy, cause God knows she's not

[lily-radiance]

“Donut” Disturb

Pairing: Robert Robertson x fem superhero reader

Tags: NSFW, smut, AFAB reader, swearing, fingering, (implied) oral, creampie, choking, marking

Sum: I couldn’t stop thinking about the donut conversation between Robert and Invisigal

Thinking about being a superhero who works alongside the dispatch team and makes rounds at the office with Blazer. At first, you brushed the whole idea of the organization aside, and assumed your friend was in over her head again.

But she insisted that with the retirement of Mecha Man(aka your best friend) and Shroud growing stronger, the city needed a new plan. So reluctantly, you followed alongside her into the office space, expecting nothing, only for her to introduce you to—

“Robert, what the hell are you doing here?”

Yes, your best friend had miraculously ended up in this building, not just working dispatch, but also working here because of your overly-optimistic, gravity defying homegirl. The same girl he could have kissed, but didn’t, and now Blazer knows why.

“Excuse me, Miss powerful, but I wasn’t expecting you either. Aren’t you supposed to be fighting twice as hard since I’m out of commission?….”

Of course, Robert couldn’t go a day in his life without sarcasm, especially with you staring right through him. And Blazer was acting like she didn’t exist, subtly backing away to let the situation figure itself out.

“And who says I’m not fighting? You’re certainly not Mr. Computer Expert. I heard you were assigned to the Z-Team. Ouch.”

Great, just great. Now you knew he was babysitting a bunch of lowlife criminals. He just needs to act cool and collected…

“Yeah, yeah, shame on me or whatever. You’re always right, blah, blah, blah. Are you going to show me the ropes or just stand there being pretty?” Your pessimistic colleague grumbles, but doesn’t shoo you away as you sit on his desk.

“Okay, open this file. Go there, no not there….”

Thus begins your miniature lesson on various codes and tips for the brunette. But the whole time he has to remind himself not to stare at you, except out of the corner of his eye.

———————————————————————

The next few days are relatively easy, besides Flambae starting a few dozen fires and Water-Boy ruining several computers throughout the office. You’re following your routine checking on the cubicles, coffee in hand when something catches your attention.

That rough morning-voice that you swear you’ve only heard in your dreams and over the phone, is gruffly complaining to the team. Each occasional sharp inhale and exhale accompanied by frustrated curses, bounces throughout the room, hitting you straight in your heart. You need caffeine, lots and lots to overwhelm your senses just so you don’t let your mind wander.

It should be a simple enough task, but to get to the break room you need to walk right by Robert, something that seems damn near impossible. You swallow, stomaching your feelings and stepping forward, but the conversation you think you hear causes you to damn near combust.

“Yup. You got me. I love gobbling on hot sloppy donuts. I love that warm cream all over me. Now, can we focus on the dead body a few feet away?”

He mutters casually, not caring that anyone in range can hear him. He continues on in a more serious tone as Invisigal works on the case, pushing his every button in the process. What he doesn’t know, however, is that you’re standing awkwardly in an empty cubicle trying not to get off to dirty talk about donuts for god’s sake. You lean against the wall, burying your face in your hands in embarrassment as all that floods your mind are lewd images of your coworker.

It was bad enough finding him attractive when you saw him every couple of days out in the city. Now you see him daily, hunched over a monitor, typing away on that keyboard with those long, slender fingers that would be much more useful stretching you open or choking you until your neck bruises.

Would he be the type to leave marks where everyone can see or just underneath your clothes? Would he leave them at all? For all you know he could be slow and gentle, but that’s never how you imagine him. How could you knowing how the simplest task sets him off like a ticking time-bomb? He hates incompetence. God, he’d probably wreck your insides if you so much as rolled your eyes at him.

Slow down, what the hell are you thinking? You’re at work right now, idiot, and you have a job to do. What were you doing? Coffee, right. Caffeine will surely destroy the horny teenager controlling your brain like when you were in high school. You just gotta act natural. Breathe. Walk. Repeat.

As casually as you can, you stroll towards Robert’s desk, maintaining an indifferent expression while tapping your nails on the polished surface.

“Hey, Robert, how’s it going? I was heading to the break room, but I wanted to check on you first.” You greet, leaning on one arm.

Mecha-Man immediately snaps his head in your direction, straightening his posture and scooting his chair forward just enough so you can’t subtly check him out. That, and because seeing you dressed up like this, hair neatly done, and makeup painted, is torturing him.

“Oh—uh—hey. Hi. I didn’t hear you come in earlier. Things are shitty per usual. Invisigal and Flambae are my worst nightmare. I can be a crude asshole, too, but I keep it at a minimum.”

You crack a smile at his sour tone, well-aware how difficult those particular delinquents are towards authority. He catches your involuntary reaction, and for a moment, his dead eyes light up in amusement.

“You have a sense of humor, Rob. They think they do. What was our disappearing friend talking your ear off about?” Initially, he doesn’t think much about the interaction, huffing out something related to a laugh. Then, he follows your legs with his eyes, up to your hips, then your waist, and finally to your chest.

“Something along the lines of asking me if I’d deepthroat a donut. Which, now that I think about it, sounds really uncomfortable. Not that I’ve ever had the mental image of someone doing the unspeakable to a pastry.” He says every word in his usual dry voice, but he’s not focusing much on the conversation with you in front of him.

“Right? I mean, you get used to it, and it’s about the person owning the…donut enjoying themselves. Plus, depending on the filling’s taste, among other things…it’s not that bad.” You mutter partially under your breath, pulling at the collar of your shirt to get some air.

Shit, he was just joking around. Why’d you have to make it weird? Now, he’s only going to think about this. There’s probably a memory wiping device somewhere in the building….

“I suppose you’re right. There’s all sorts of desserts, too. Crepes. Mousse. Boston Cream…”

He pauses for a moment, letting his gaze wander obviously, letting you see him staring holes between your legs. However, the moment that seals your fate is when he licks his lips and you finish his sentence.

“Boston Cream-Pie?…” You whisper just loud enough for him to hear, feeling your lower stomach tense with just the utterance of those few words.

He doesn’t think in-between the time it takes for him to stand up, grab you by the waist, and kiss you for the first time. It’s by no means slow and gentle, but it’s deep. You can’t busy yourself with how many rules you’re breaking, just the sensation of his tongue swiping across your bottom lip a few times before invading your mouth. He doesn’t taste like you imagined, but honestly? You can’t remember anything except the combination of mint and saliva.

His pace has hurried significantly now that you’ve both semi-processed what you’re doing. Your hands reflexively reach for his shoulders, digging into his uniform shirt, but when that’s not enough you swap them for the back of his neck.

“Okay, this is going from a terrible job to my new goddamn favorite. If I knew this would happen if we were coworkers, I woulda’ retired the suit ages ago.” He says breathlessly, acting completely on autopilot as he grips your ass through your jeans and pulls you closer.

Now that he’s standing—and this close to you—you have a clear view of how desperately his zipper is struggling to maintain his excitement. Without much care, you gently palm him with your left hand, almost certain your eyes will roll back.

“If I knew donuts could be sexy, I would have devoured one whole right in front of you. Speaking of which—either fuck me in the break room or I’ll cum on your desk.” You mutter into his mouth, teasingly biting the tip of his tongue before pulling away.

It’s safe to say the two feet away from the room has never been closer as he practically shoves you through the door way and against the nearest counter. He doesn’t care about the security cameras or the idea of Blazer firing him. She can go recruit someone else for all he cares. Right now, he needs to bury himself deep until he’s filling your womb.

“You’re so fucking wet. What? Did imagining my dick really get you hot and bothered? Or was it hearing me talk about covering a certain someone knee-deep in cream? Baby, I could ruin you for days and not break a sweat.”

He mutters shakily behind you, easily shoving two fingers inside your aching heat. You squeeze around his knuckles, forcing him to let a groan out from the back of his throat.

Just like you imagined, he’s not only good at typing, but teasing, and showing you that hours spent scrolling on his mouse were great practice for making you see stars.

“Don’t worry if you miss a report. I’ll just tell Blazer you were too busy satisfying my inquiries. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: wrote this in the middle of the night quickly just to get something out there. LMK if anyone actually wants this completed or likes it as is. <3

[beeffromdispatch]

Pillow Talk (Inivisigal x Robert Robertson)

Finally, a confession of feelings after months of hooking up.

TW///references to smut, but no actual smut.

Robert placed one last kiss on Invisigal’s lips before slowly pulling out of her.

“Fuck, be careful man I’m still sensitive,” she moaned, but quickly felt her face get red from realizing what came out of her mouth.

“Oh believe me, I know.” Robert smirked and positioned himself on his side next to her. He thought it was adorable how timid she would get after every time they finished having sex. It made sense though- her head was finally clear and she was in a state where she felt the most vulnerable.

It had only been a few months since they first started hooking up, and both of them were falling for each other. Hard. Not hard enough to admit it to one another, of course.

“Why the hell are u staring at me like that? Got cum in my hair or something?” She waved a hand over Robert’s eyes to snap him out of it. Invisigal always used humor to cope with discomfort. Everyone knew it; it was kind of her thing.

“No, no, don’t worry, I got it all… uh… inside,” it was Robert’s turn to blush. “Obviously I’m going to stare at the beautiful, naked woman in my bed.”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah of course. You think I’d be fucking you senseless for the past few months if I didn’t think you were beautiful?”

“Well,” she started, “I don’t know about senseless…”

“I think the only time you’re actually unable to form a sentence is when I’m inside of you. So yeah, I would call that senseless.”

Invisigal felt the red creeping onto her cheeks again. It wasn’t the post-sex dirty talk embarrassing her this time: it was the compliments. The softness in his voice when he spoke to her. All the feelings she had towards him creeping their way out.

“But yeah… I think you would,” she finished.

“Huh?”

“You wouldn’t be the first guy to do me without thinking I’m beautiful. Or without thinking about me much at all for that matter. Believe me, I don’t care about it- seems like a normal guy thing.” Invisigal didn’t want to look at him while she spoke. Robert’s smirk quickly shifted into a frown.

“Then, contrary to popular belief, I guess I’m not a normal guy. You’re beautiful and I think about you. I’m tired of you thinking I don’t care about you” He studied her face to try a gauge a reaction to the last sentence.

“I…I know that you care. It’s easier for me to pretend you don’t.” She didn’t want to talk about how she felt. She wanted to lay there in post-orgasm bliss and turn her brain off like she did after every other time they slept together.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh my god, you dumbass I care about you too! I even fucking like you! I just don’t like getting hurt, okay.” Her voice was exasperated as she finally turned to face him. His lips curved into a smile and she couldn’t tell if she loved it or hated it.

“Come here,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer. Her head was flush against his chest, taking note of the sound of his heartbeat. “The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. If I do you have full permission to beat me in front of the whole team.” He felt her giggle into his chest. “I got you, Visi. You’re not gonna get hurt with me.”

“Good, I better not,” she smiled into him. “Now go take me out for some food. The sex and vulnerability made me hungry.”

“You got it,” Robert said, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Been working on trying to capture their personalities in these fics because they have such strong ones (compliments to the Dispatch writers ofc). It’s a challenge I’m still working on, but I think I’m starting to get there woohoo‼️ Lmk if there are any other ideas you guys have about what I should write with these two

[m1nusone]

Dream Sequence Sketch (👀💔)

[stardust-ed]

why do they like to stare at each other so much are they STUPID

[sevengaysins]

Invisigal being clingy 😏

[beeffromdispatch]

Storage Closet Catastrophe (Invisigal x Robert Robertson)

Classic “caught doing it in the closet” moment. In an AU where Invisigal and Robert are dating.

🚨TW/// smut ahead🚨

“Are you sure you can’t wait until after work? The thought of a major HR violation doesn’t sound as exciting as sex in my own bed,” Robert whispered, wedged between his girlfriend and a storage closet shelf lined with cleaning chemicals. Despite his apparent resistance to the idea, he had one hand on her hip and the other behind her head as their bodies pressed against each other.

“Nope, can’t wait.” Invisigal mumbled into Robert’s neck, as she trailed kisses down it. “Beating up assholes gives me an adrenaline rush. An adrenaline rush makes me horny. And me being horny…” she said as she trailed her hand down the front of his shirt and towards his belt buckle, “makes you horny, too.” Her lips curved into a smile as her hand made its way down just a little further to between his legs. As soon as her hand made contact with his hard member, Robert’s breath hitched. His gently placed hand on the back of her head suddenly turned into a rough fistful of her hair as he angled her head into his, crashing their lips into one another.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Visi” Robert groaned between kisses. His hand on her waist gripped even harder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear as the hand behind her head snaked around her throat. Despite her talking big game in the field, she wanted to be manhandled in the bedroom. And Robert knew that.

Invisigal let out a small gasp at the feeling of her boyfriend’s hand around her neck. She felt her panties getting soaked fast. As their tongues fought, Robert used what little space they had to flip their positions, letting Visi be the one pushed up against the shelves while he loomed over her. His hand went from her waist to her pants zipper, slowly exposing the front of her panties. She let out a small moan as he traced his fingers along her slit on top of the fabric.

“Nuh uh, you have to be quiet for me now,” Robert whispered with a grin. “Think you can do that?” His fingers slowly trailed from her entrance to her clit, getting wet through the fabric.

“Fuck, yes, whatever. Just touch me already.” Invisigal needed him bad. She palmed at his cock through his pants just to prove how needy she was.

Right as his fingers finally dipped inside of her, the small closet space was filled with the light of the office.

“You guys gotta be fucking kidding me.” Flambae stood in front of the closet door, yelling and shielding his eyes. “This is an office space goddamnit.” Invisigal held her breath, but clearly not soon enough.

Robert was dumbfounded- completely speechless.

“Don’t be an ass,” Invisigal said, reappearing with her pants zippered and hair fixed back into place. “I was just showing Robert where the printer ink was.”

“Not unless it’s hidden in your vagina you weren’t.”

“Woah, okay, that’s enough,” Robert said, pushing past the both of them. “Let’s all just get back to work and keep each other’s genitalia out of our vocabulary.”

“Woah woah woah, who said genitalia? What’s goin’ on now?” Punch Up trailed into the room, with Coop by his side.

“Robert did. I walked in on his closet se-OUCHH,” Flambae was quickly cut off by Invisigal’s boot making swift contact with his shin before she disappeared again.

“Just shut up and get back to work okay? I don’t want to hear another word of this,” Robert demanded as he turned his back to walk back to his cubicle.

“Just remember to wash your hands, mate,” Punch Up called back before a gaggle of laughs erupted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little rusty from being out of the writing game for a while, so this DEFINITELY isn’t my best work. Hopefully y’all found some enjoyment in it and let me know if you have any other ideas or suggestions!!

[celestialwrites]

flirty or threatening? dialogue prompts

@celestialwrites for more!!

“good god, you are a pain.” “then why are you even here?” “maybe i’m a masochist.”

“say that again i dare you.” “what are you going to do about it if i do?”

“your existence unnerves me.” “aw, i’m flattered.”

“hi honey.” “don’t honey me, you just threw a book at me!”

“huh, you know when you’re not scowling at me your eyes look a little more blue than green.”

“what if one day you wandered off a cliff?” “would you join me?”

“sometimes i feel like you want to get hit.” “by you? most certainly.”

“miss me?” “i had wondered where my headache went.”

“you are certainly interesting.” “is that a compliment or are you making fun of me?” “yes.”

“i’m not docile by any means.” “i’ve noticed, i notice everything about you.”

“i need help to bury a body.” “and you thought of me? aw.” “actually, i’m the only one that would miss you if you went to prison.” “you’d miss me?”

“i hate you!” “as long as you feel something towards me.”

“watch it!” “it’s cute how easy i can rile you up.”

“do you truly hate me?” “i wish that was possible.”

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3

[beeffromdispatch]

Robert and Invisigal coded. DM me which one y’all want me to start with👀

[stardust-ed]

[beeffromdispatch]

Someone send me a fic request prompt for them I dare you.