Robert Robertson x reader who runs really. really cold. || 350 words
Early in your guys’ marriage, you had asked Robert if he wanted to shower with you. To save money on your water bill and what not. Robert was all too excited to join, and all but dashed into the huge bathroom you two shared. A huge change from his tiny ass apartment bathroom that barely had space to walk. However, the moment he stepped into the shower, he felt every single one of his nerves burning up.
‘What the fuck!?’ He clambered out of the shower, you flinched. ‘‘Why is the water fuckin’ boiling?’ He sucked in his breath, grabbing one of the towels to dry himself off.
You hum, turning the water off and peeking over the shower curtain. ‘It’s the temperature I always use,’ You respond.
‘What, to soft boil your skin?’
‘No, to shower,’ you deadpan. ‘Just shower after me if you have a problem.’ You pull the shower curtain closed, turning the water back on.
Robert sighs, standing in the bathroom, contemplating his decision. If he didn't apologise or come into the shower with you, you'd likely hate him forever. Or at least for the next hour.
He inched closer to the curtain. ‘I can hear you coming, don't try and scare me, Rob.’ You scold.
‘I’m not scaring you, I'm coming in.’ He stopped just short of the shower and reluctantly pulled the curtain open, sucking in a breath and stepping inside.
‘Why are you shivering?’ He blinked, noticing how the water was only a bit cooler.
‘I turned the temperature down so you wouldn't throw a hissy fit.’
‘Well, you didn't have to do that.’
‘Great, I'll turn it back up then.’ You reach your hand towards the tap, only for Robert to grab your wrist before you reach it.
‘Leave it, ‘s fine like this.’
The two of you ended up having the worst shower of your lives. The water was too cold for you, too hot for Robert. Cross that out of the list of newlywed activities you two had tried. And were not going to try again anytime soon.
Robert with a protective s/o? (I can't be the only one who wanted to slug Invisigal when she hit him, right?)
a/n: man some of the things invisigal did genuinely made my blood boil... idk i just dont like her as a romantic interest bc it gets to a point where you're like. girl. you're a grown woman. act like one tf 🤣🤣 i havent done blazers route yet tho so..
warnings: semi descriptive depiction of getting punched in the face, reader is a superhero
"Scared? Good, fuck you."
Robert already knew he was going to slam into the ground when Invisigal's fist made contact with the side of his cheek. A warm gush of blood spewed from his nose, splattering along the back of his chair.
The impact from landing on the floor never came. Instead, he felt a hand on the back of his head and one on the small of his spine holding him up. He looked to his left and saw you. Of course. With a venomous glare directed towards Invisigal, who was lingering over him.
You set him down against the wall in one smooth motion. "Invisigal." You bring yourself to your feet. "What the hell is wrong with you?" You tighten your jaw, to divert the pent up energy in your fists.
"Your boyfriend is a piece of shit." She retorts. "Seriously! I did my job just fine–"
"No, you disobeyed a direct order."
"What is this, the army? I don't have the permission to do what I want?"
You exhale sharply. "No. Simply put, you don't. When you're on the clock, you listen to your dispatcher. You could've gotten Thunderstruck if you just–" you throw your hands up. "If you just fucking listened!"
Robert pushed himself off the floor, pressing the back of his hand against his bleeding nose. You pass him a handkerchief without looking.
"I did listen. His orders were shit! Granny would have died if I didn't disarm him. Isn't preventing a civilian death more important than getting the bad guy?"
"He wouldn't have died. If you just listened to Robert you could've gotten Thunderstruck–" Sonar fired up his blender again, drowning out your voice. "Stop that. Now." You order. Sonar looks up at you. "Sonar seriously, I swear to God I will skin you alive and sell your fur on Ebay if you don't turn that fucking blender off." The sound stopped. You turn back to Invisigal. "How do you expect to be a hero when you can't listen to the guy that's actively trying to help you? This isn't fucking daycare, Invisigal, you cant just do whatever you want and expect zero repercussions."
Robert says your name, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to pull you away from Invisigal before you hit her. You shrug him off.
"Not only did you mess up the mission, lose Thunderstruck, cause a controversy against the SDN, but you then came back, expected Robert to be nice to you and then punched him when he didn't say what you wanted to hear." Robert sighed, watching you with a dazed expression. Likely from getting hit. "He could have gotten a concussion!"
"What are you, his mother?" Her voice sounded weaker now. And in the sensible corner of your mind, you would've stopped.
You narrow your eyes. "This is going on your record. You're a part of a team, Invisigal. So grow up and get over yourself or get fired."
Invisigal clicks her tongue, taking a puff of her inhaler before disappearing. The break room door swung open, and slammed behind her invisible form with a force strong enough to make the glass wall shake.
You exhale, finally letting go of the surge of anger that caged your brain. You turn back to Robert, giving him a look over. "You okay? Did you get a concussion? Does anything hurt?" You hold his face in your hands, gently dabbing at his nose with the handkerchief.
"Not– Not concussed. Just dizzy." He grits his teeth. "You shouldn't have done that."
You give him a look he couldn't quite place. You grabbed some ice from the freezer and wrapped it in the handkerchief, pressing it against his nose. "Hold it."
"You gonna eat those twinks?"
You startle, brows furrowed in confusion as you turn to Sonar. "That's not what they're called." You and Robert say at the same time.
"Take them. It's fine." You glanced at Robert. Sonar took the smushed twinkies and walked out of the break room.
"You can't let them boss you around. Alright? You need to hold your ground. You can't be getting hurt like this, not after a four month coma." Your voice softens at the end. "You're–"
"I'll be fine." He tries to give you a reassuring smile. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before." You look at him warily. "You don't need to keep saving me."
"I do." Because you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you didn't. "You should've fought back, or gotten mad, or done something." You look away from him, at the table.
Robert says your name again. Softer. Trying to coax you into looking at him again. "Look. They need to respect me to listen to me, alright? I can fix my own messes. Relax." His hands go up to your shoulders, and you immediately relax them, spine curling forward into a slight slouch.
"Just... let me take you to the infirmary." You look at him, pleading.
"How could I ever deny you?" He chuckles, removing the handkerchief from his nose for a second to plant a kiss on your forehead.
may i request robert with a neighbor who shows affection with food, and she constantly drops off extras for him (and gives beef some snacks, of course :3)
a/n: luxury cheese connoisseur beef. highkey headcanon robert as anaemic lol,, hope this fit your request anon!!!
"You alive?" The fluorescent hallway lights burned into his retinas, clouding his vision with white.
"God?" Robert rasped out.
"No. I'm your neighbor." Robert blinked. Your head was blocking out the hallway lights. The carpet beneath him was weirdly damp. "So, uh. You good, dude?" You reach your hand out. Robert flinches like you were going to hurt him. He eventually decided to stand up all on his own. You noticed the way he winced when he stopped using the cracked wall for support.
"I can take it from here." He raised a dismissive hand to brush you off, stumbling to the door of his apartment.
"Don't think you can." Funnily enough, right as you said that, he doubled over. You stare at his crumpled form on the carpet, before retreating into your own apartment and bringing out a glass of medicine and a slice of cold pizza.
You crouch down next to him, placing your hand against his neck to check for a pulse. He swats you away. "I'm alive. Stop it." He turned his head, eyelids drooping closed as he looked at you with contempt.
"I'm just trying to help, dude. Have you eaten anything in the last hour?"
"No." That was one of the things he remembered atleast.
"M'kay. Well, eat this." You nudge the plate towards him. "Not poisoned."
His expression relaxes. The wrinkle between his brows disappears. You place one hand underneath his shoulder to push him to a sitting up position. He takes the plate in his hands, taking one bite, slowly chewing, making sure it was safe, before finishing the rest of the slice in fifteen seconds. You lean back against the wall, summer heat making sweat bead on your brow and your breathing heavier. "Drink that. Should get your blood sugar up." You gesture to the medicine cup.
He gulps it down, wincing at the taste. You chuckle. "Think you can make it to your front door?"
"Yeah." He was regaining his strength, his heartbeat receded from his eardrums, returning to where it should be. The pins and needles faded from his foot. "You... didn't have to do that."
"Maybe I didn't. I wanted to though." He tilts his head at you, brows furrowed like he couldn't fathom someone being kind to him.
You help him to his feet, despite him insisting he didn't need you to. He eventually limps to his apartment door, testing 5 keys before unlocking it. He looks back at you once, before walking into his apartment. You catch a glance of the inside of his apartment. Paint peeling, a dirty air mattress in the corner of the room, and a plastic lawn chair facing the window. Wow. Yeah, that's... You ignore it and walk back into your apartment.
Your doors close at the same time.
A week later, Robert came back from work and saw a little plastic bag at his doorstep. With a note attached to it that said:
From next door.
had some stuff leftover in my fridge, think u shud have it, ur apartment looks awful BTW
"Huh." Robert brings the plastic bag inside his apartment and takes out the things inside. Dog-safe beef jerky, a salad from the deli near the complex, and some random drinks. He smiled to himself.
He actually caught you leaving your apartment a few times, and repeatedly insisted that you didn't have to give him so much, only for you to shrug him off.
"I'm not losing money over this, keep it." You'd smile at him and tilt your head slightly every time.
And every time you said that, he'd pinch his temple, sigh and silently admit defeat.
"I'm not a charity case, y'know?"
"Never said you were."
He didn't even know your name.
The packages gradually came with your visits. You'd knock on his door, hold out a plastic bag, and ask if he had gotten a bed yet. He'd say no. You'd laugh, say goodbye, and leave. Every week, like clockwork.
He even came home from work earlier on Mondays, sitting with his lawn chair menacingly facing his front door, waiting for you to knock.
He heard you knock. Three taps, as usual. He all too eagerly ran to the front door, expression brightening when he saw you.
"Special delivery."
"Don't think your deliveries are too special now." He joked, accepting the bag and placing it on his kitchen counter.
"So... got a bed yet?" You lean against the door frame, back pressed against the peeling wood.
"No, not yet."
"A couch?"
"No."
"Holy shit you need a better apartment." Robert laughs, but you're being entirely honest. "Well... do you wanna get coffee sometime? Maybe on the way back we could stop at a furniture store, get you a bed." You smile, fingers numb with nervousness.
"I'd like that." The warmth returns to your skin. And your heart rate returns to normal.
summary: You procrastinate. Too much. Which means that your desk is a mess. An unmanageable workspace. As you contemplate cleaning it, Robert comes up to help you. (more like do all of the work for you.)
a/n: dispatch fic was inevitable i love thsi game.
tags: robert LOVES. the reader. robert yearns. he wants that cookie fr. reader hates doing the dishes. reader has a tendency to procrastinate. highkey imagined this as buff lazy reader but it's up to u :3
You chugged the last dregs in your mug of coffee, holding it limply in your hand as you scanned your cluttered desk for a place to put it. There was none, unless you wanted to place it on top of the insanely tall stack of novels you brought into the office. You consistently forgot to take them home. Apparently that adds up.
You tap your feet impatiently, staring at your desk with contempt. Maybe you should've listened to Malevola when she said you should clean your desk, because right now, you don't even know where to start. Maybe tackle the horde of coffee mugs? Or the insanely cluttered pinboard that had like a million sticky notes on it? Or maybe you should gather up all of the hair ties scattered across the surface.
You sigh in defeat, dropping down to a crouch on the floor, holding your face in your hand with a dull expression. It's pointless. Nothing can fix the mess on your desk. The mess has swallowed the desk.
In the middle of your existential pondering, you hear a voice.
“You okay?” You turn around to look at who was talking to you. Robert. Of course. Your desk is right next to his.
“No,” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Hey, you actually look tall from here.” You smile. You catch his blush, the way his ears redden.
“Well, just for that comment, I'm not gonna help you.” He takes a sip from his mug, leaning his shoulder against the cubicle wall. He reaches his hand down towards you.
You grasp it, pulling yourself up. Robert didn't expect you to pull so hard, and he stumbled towards you.
You didn't notice, already having let go of his hand to turn around. He sucked in a deep breath to stabilize himself before he accidentally brushed against your back. He exhaled, shuffling to stand beside you. “Wow.”
“Shut up, I know it's bad.”
“No– no, it's good!” He laughs, you glare at him.
“Just help, okay?” How could he say no to any of your requests, anyhow?
Robert smiles, already drifting away into the astral plane the longer you looked at him. You grit your teeth to suppress a smile, trying to maintain your upset expression.
“You look like you're about to cry. Or yawn, I can't tell.” Robert pushed the office chair aside so he could pick up all of the coffee mugs.
“Shuddup," You mumbled, staring aimlessly at him.
He looked over his shoulder, noting your gaze. He ignored it, straightening up so he could carry the mugs to the break room.
“...Why didn't you put these away?” He asked. You fall into step beside him.
“I hate washing dishes. Something about scrubbing off the chewed, cold remnants of food off of silverware just turns my stomach.”
Robert nods. Not to agree, just to show that he was listening. If it were up to him, he'd do all of your dishes if it meant you didn't have to.
As if he'd tell you that.
You inch closer, letting your shoulder brush against his as he placed the mugs in the sink, rinsing them down. His breath catches.
“Thanks.”
“For what? Our job isn't done yet," He joked drily.
“Yeah, I know. Just meant that– I dunno. You're cool.” You brush some hair behind your face, "I didn't expect you to actually help," you turn around to rest your back against the break room counter so you could look at him as you spoke. “I thought that managing the Z-Team would require some rude uptight jackass but… you're… not that.”
Robert paused, glancing at you for a second. A small smile appears on his face. “Thanks. Glad to know you don't see me as a jackass," He deadpans, turning the water off.
“No problem, Bob.”
“Rob," He blurted before he registered his words.
“I thought your name was Robert?” You grin.
He stops. “Y'know what? Nah, ‘s Rob from now on.” Rob, just for you.
“Sure, Rob.” You narrow your eyes, bumping his hip with yours as you walk back to your desk. He turned around, watching you for a moment.
He hated people calling him Rob. He wanted to be taken seriously, even Chase didn't call him Rob. The name sounds just fine coming from your lips though. He'd listen to you say it forever. Morning day and night.
He clears his throat, trying to push down the weight in it. “So what's next?” The air felt painfully stiff, and he could've sworn the temperature rose a couple degrees. He took a strangled breath before following behind you.
“Uhh, maybe separate the finished paperwork mound from the unfinished paperwork mound?” You called back.
“Sounds great.” His voice cracked.
You smiled. Robert didn't see it.
Extra;
"And then he let her call him Rob." Sonar recalls.
"You sure you aren't mishearing?"
"Visi's right, it seems pretty unrealistic." Prism interjects.
"No, no, my memory is clear. He distinctly said Rob."
"I'm betting 300 on him making the first move." Malevola says
"Really? Bobbert Bobbertson making the first move? When pigs fly." Flambae jeers.
The conference room door slams open. The Z-Team falls silent, watching you enter the room. "What are you all doing here? Blazer needs to use this room for an actually important meeting."
"We were just—" Malevola clamps her hand over Sonar's mouth.
"Yeah, yeah, I don't care." You wave him off. "Just get out."
one of my favourite things to do is to imagine my faves with a s/o who is just. odd. like famous for saying and doing odd shit. like a writer or a film director at the level of quentin tarantino or chris nolan. in interviews they just go off on inane tangents about ethics and religion and everything under the sun BESIDES the movie or show they directed. everytime u see a news article about them theyre doing crazy shit like donating millions of dollars to charities or performing social experiments or making crazy innovations in their field. and their s/o has to deal with their crazy shit, waking up in the middle of the night to just start writing random incomprehensible ideas that only make sense to them and are like 'unicorns hate capitalism so they eat chicken beef' and 'the french revolution was a prop to sell scented candles'
bonus points if their s/o is a character who is equally as odd like sonar
robert with a dispatcher reader who literally never takes their headphones off. no matter what's happening, those headphones stay on. their superpower is enhanced hearing and mind-reading, so to deal with the noise of everyone's words and thoughts, they listen to music throughout the day.
It has become a source of irritation for robert. whenever he needs to speak to you, you always have your headphones on. and considering you both work next to each other, he needs to speak to you a lot. and everytime he has to tap your shoulder, watch you get startled and frantically take your headphones off, listen to him speak with an ignorant expression and put your headphones on again. safe to say he can't rely on you for much.
within a few days of him beginning to work at SDN, he would keep an eye on you throughout the day subconsciously, trying to catch a moment where you didnt have your headphones on so he could actually talk to you. suffice to say, he couldnt. it was like they were glued to your head.
"you sure you dont have a headset dent?" he asked one day, when the office was quieter and your headphones were around your neck instead.
"a what?" you respond.
"a– a headset dent." maybe the headphones made you partially deaf too.
"I dont think so? i just keep them on at work." you stir two sugars into your tea, watching the cubes break apart and dissolve with much interest. you could hear the fizz and cracking of the sugar.
"hm. so... can you hear my thoughts right now?"
"nah." you hold up your wrist, revealing a glowing green bracelet. "not with this on anyways."
oh thank god. Robert exhales. "so... what do you listen to?"
You pick up your cup of tea and sit across him in the break room. "A bit of everything. i really like system of a down... the last shadow puppets, gorillaz, björk, the smashing pumpkins... videoclub too. maybe some pinkpantheress if I'm in the mood for it." you smile. "what about you?"
"I'm not a big music guy. I like pink floyd–"
"hey, me too!"
He cracks a small smile. "what about oasis?"
"i like them. aquiesce is good. what about PJ Harvey?"
"down by the water is one of my favourite songs ever."
this was the first time he saw you smile, he just realized.
"really? you'd really like interpol then. and 'denial you win again' by the buttertones. they seem right up your alley."
"is that right?" he made a mental note of the songs in his head. "I'll check them out."
once your break ended, more people filed into the office, and you instinctively put your headphones on, bidding robert goodbye to go and work.
that went well, you think.
robert watches you walk away and almost bump into waterboy. the hero stammers a few apologies that you dont hear, merely raising your hands up to say sorry before continuing to walk. robert lets out a snort despite himself, getting up to walk back to his desk.
the next day, he walks into work and immediately finds you in the break room. headphones on, mixing sugar into your tea again. he taps you on the shoulder. you startle, take your headphones off, and turn around. a smile graces your features when you see his face. you lean against the counter. "funny seeing you here."
"at my job? yeah, pretty funny." he pauses, wondering how to go about this conversation. "so.. i listened to the songs you recommended."
"ah, really?" your grin brightens at that. "how'd you like 'em?"
"they're great. really." for once, he wasnt lying about having listened to someone's recommendations.
and clearly, you weren't used to someone showing interest in your recommendations, because robert saw your skin darken around your ears.
"do you like sadder songs?" he asks after swallowing the weight in his throat. you nod. "well– i think you'd really like 'the smallest church in sussex' by sea power."
"I'll give it a listen." you brush your hair behind your ears, something he's seen you do a million times. this time it feels more endearing. "ah, listen to cherry-coloured funk by the cocteau twins."
he hums to show his acknowledgment. "well, get back to your tea." you give him a small, awkward wave to bid him adieu and he chuckles, walking back to his desk.
you suck in a sharp breath, rubbing your hand along your face as if to wipe away the heat in your cheeks and turn back to your tea.
the next day when you rolled into work, you saw a note on your desk.
in case you want to send me any more songs, heres my number.
-robert
and a phone number underneath. you smile to yourself, pulling your phone out to write his number into your phone.
that was the start of your tradition of exchanging music with robert. it was nice. you even made a playlist with all the songs he told you to listen to, and he did the same.
you were working late, filling out paperwork for a new batch of heroes that had to be allocated to different teams. the sun had already set, and no one but the night-shift janitors were in the office, sweeping floors. you yawned, signing the last sheet. bundling up the papers in your arms, you stood up, tucked your chair in with one hand and made your way to blonde blazers office to drop off the papers. on your way back, you saw robert coming out of the gym, carrying a dog carrier containing his dog, beef.
"hey!" you called out to him, he ignored you. you tilt your head and furrow your brows, deciding to walk up to him.
"robert?" you tap his shoulder. he startles, and his hand goes up to pull out his earbuds.
"oh, hey." you could faintly hear the last shadow puppets playing through his earbuds.
"hey." you glance down at his chest where his earbud was dangling. he raised an eyebrow. "the last shadow puppets?" he relaxes his features, realizing you weren't just checking him out.
"oh, yeah." he chuckles. "thanks for putting me onto them."
"no problem. heading home?" you extend your hand out towards beefs carrier.
"pretty much." beef begins licking your hand, and you give him a few neck scritches. "you go by the bus, right? you could go with me, it's not safe at this time anyways."
"sure." you were planning on taking an uber anyways, but you'd rather go with robert. because it's safer. you don't have any ulterior motives.
The two of you make it to the bus stop in comfortable silence, occasionally chatting about work and your respective teams. the bus was pretty much empty, even the bus driver seemed pretty zooted. you wouldn't have it any other way. crowded buses sucked. you sat by the window. the glass was fogged up and cold under your fingertips as you traced stars and hearts on the glass. beef was sandwiched in between your seats, sleeping peacefully. robert tried to keep his eyes glued to the back of the seat ahead of him, but kept sneaking glances at you.
as the bus crossed more stations, more people began to file in. he saw your expression sour, one hand going up to cover your right ear as you pretended like you were just resting your arm against the bumpy windowsill.
"what happened to your headphones?" he asked, gentler than he meant to.
"they died. left my charger at home." his brows furrowed with worry. he paused for a moment.
you looked at him. he held out his hand to you, holding one of his earbuds out. you smile softly, taking it in your hand and putting it in your ear. it kept falling out though, because the wire was too short.
Robert picked up beefs carrier and placed it in his lap, scooching closer to your seat to close some of the distance. the earbud fit perfectly in your ear. Robert took his phone out to switch the song.
you looked at him, mouth slightly open in shock as the familiar guitar riffs played. robert grinned. "guilty as charged."
he's pining for her,
in a people carrier
there might be buildings and pretty things to see like that
but architecture wont do
although it might say a lot about the city or town
i dont care what they've got, keep on turning 'em down
it dont say the funny things she does
...
Robert closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the fuzzy bus seats as the driver called out station names and the opened bus doors let in a gush of cold air that would sink down to his skin.
and the thought of it
you kept your eyes open, watching him for a moment, before getting lulled to sleep by the music, closing your eyes and resting your head against his shoulder.
Arcade Games and Blankets and Cheers to an Eternity Spent with You.
Robert Robertson x reader || 940 words
summary: you and Robert share a nap in the office lounge when you think no one'll find you. surprise! prism does. so much for keeping your relationship under wraps.
a/n: this idea has consumed my waking thoughts. wisp use a good header challenge impossible
tags: ooc prism mayb? cuddles, naps, reader loves video games (projecting), sonar gamer hc, reader is very grumpy after a nap
The Z-Team caught onto your and Robert’s relationship pretty early. The way you kept your pinkies intertwined, how you coincidentally came into work within 15 second increments of the others arrival, how Robert lingered by your desk and had to be yelled at by the team to do his fucking job, how you often broke into the Z-Teams channels just to talk to Robert about paperwork or staplers or whatever the fuck. Now, all they needed was cold hard proof.
You and Sonar had all but begged Royd to fix the old arcade machines the two of you found in the third floor storage closet while you were putting away boxes of equipment. Justifying it by saying that it would boost morale. Royd agreed, just to appease you both. And now, the office lounge had not just a TV, but a Pac-Man and Mortal Kombat arcade machine held together by duct tape. You regularly roped Robert into playing Mortal Kombat with you, spending the extent of your break in the lounge that no one really visited anyhow. Nothing good would be on the News and no one cared about the arcade machines besides you and Sonar.
One day, after five rounds of Mortal Kombat, Robert officially ‘retired’ from playing with you and collapsed onto the L-Shaped couch.
“Hey, c’mon. I'm sorry, I'll let you win next time!” You offered, following behind him.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather play against anyone else besides you.”
You grimaced in offense, sitting down right next to him. “You just suck. Even Punch Up could beat you, and he can't see the screen even with the stepping stool.”
Robert laughed. He turned on the TV, leaning back against the cushions and slinging an arm around your shoulders. “How much of our break is left?”
“About fifteen minutes,” You take off your shoes and swing your legs onto the couch. “Why?” You fold them under you and rest your head against Robert's chest.
“Take an hour off.”
“Why?”
“It's relaxing here. Our teams don't need us anyways, they can manage just fine.” He looked down at you, planting a persuasive kiss on your forehead.
“I don't think they can.” You smile at the kiss, wrapping your arms around his waist. You squeeze.
“Hey–” he nudges your arms and you relax your grip, yawning. “You're tired.”
“I'm wide awake. Shut up.” You grumble, head drooping.
Robert pulled you closer to him, scooching downwards to rest his head against the arm rest. He rested one leg on the couch, the other dangled off the side. “Stop manipulating me into napping with you.”
“I'm not. You can leave any time.” He coos.
You fall silent. Robert looks at you, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. You were gonna end up drooling on his shirt. He was too tired to care. His eyelids fluttered closed, and his senses succumbed to sleep.
A blinding white light burned into your retinas despite your closed eyes. You startle, one hand going up to cover your eyes and the other pushing yourself off of Roberts chest. “What the hell?” You mumble.
Once the light and headache fade, you open your eyes and see Prism, her phone up and pointed at the two of you.
“What's wrong?” Robert squints, looking at you and then at Prism. “Oh come on.” He rubs his eyes with a bit too much vigour.
“Oh, this is gold.” Prism grins. “Those two hundred dollars are mine, baby!” She cheers.
You glare at her. “The hell's your problem?”
“The two of you are late. That's why I was sent to find you. But I found something way better.”
“Prism, delete that. No one’s supposed to know.” Robert tries to be stern, but the way his eyes are squinted and his hair is messed up, he comes off as the opposite.
“They already know. The two of you aren't great at hiding things.” Ah, of course. Your worst nightmare. The office knowing that you and Robert are together. Your heart would've dropped if you weren't so disgruntled.
Robert groans, detaching himself from you to stand up. “So much for a nap.” He stretches his arms over his head, joints popping.
“Eugh. What do you see in him?” Prism turns to you as you pull on your shoes. Robert takes your hand and gently pulls you to your feet, keeping an arm around your shoulders to prevent you from disbalancing.
“What's it to you?” You spit.
“Give her a few minutes to wake up.” Robert sighs.
“Whatever, not my business. Just make sure she has enough energy to do her job.” Prism has already forgotten about you two in favour of her phone. You throw up a middle finger that she doesn't catch as Robert leads you out of the lounge.
“So much for keeping it secret.” He jokes. You're still pouting.
“You owe me a nap when we get home.”
“Whatever you say.” Your frown falters for a moment, and you press yourself deeper into his side. You stay that way while he makes you a cup of coffee and while he leads you to your desk.
Your breathing has evened out, the blanket covering all of your body save for a few inches from the top of your head. You lay spread out on the bed, arm loosely thrown over Robert's side and both legs tangled with his. You rest your head in the dip of his collarbone. He keeps one arm wrapped around your back, the other scrolling on his phone as you sleep. He opens up the Z-Team group chat, in which Prism has already posted the photo of the two of you sleeping. He skims through the messages and turns off his phone, pulling the covers over his body and turning towards you, closing his eyes to just… relax.
Robert x Reader who has a fear of dogs? It could be interesting, what with the adorable Beef.
a/n: omfg i have an absolutely huge dog that's been with me since i was a little kid, so ive had to deal with people being absolutely horrified of him despite me insisting that he doesnt bite!!! he only jumps on you!!! very aggressively!!!! but it's okay no one has died from that!!! anyways enjoy this request anon!!
the first time robert brought beef into work, everyone had fawned over him. literally nobody had a problem with the dog, they even fed him pieces of their lunch before chase said: 'this fat fuckin' dog is only going to get fucking fatter and pop like a balloon so stop giving him food.'
no one protested that because, well, they respected chase.
Anyhow, after the new rule, beef had began sulking around in the office, walking up to people and whimpering to ask for food, only to get denied again and again and again. dejected, he waddled over to the break room, getting stopped by people who wanted to pet him in the process. once he made it onto the break room, he sat underneath one of the chairs, resting his fluffy head on the tile and brooding as sadly as a dog could.
you were so happy to finally get your break and to finally tear into the new box of biscuits you had hidden in one of the break room cabinets to keep Flambae from getting his grubby hands on it. you hummed all the way there, swaying side to side as you put your coffee on the pot and grabbed yourself a few of the biscuits, taking your seat on one of the chairs.
halfway into your first bite, you heard a bark. a recognizable, impossible to mistake, dog bark.
you jumped, sliding the chair back so fast it knocked over. You shrieked, dashing away from the table at the speed of light.
The office fell silent. pin-drop silent. Beef jumped up from his spot on the tile, staring at you with those big beady eyes as your heart beat out of your chest, your soul still reconnecting with your body, all of the blood rushing to your feet to prepare you for the ultimate decision, fight or flight.
You weren't going to box with a dog, so you sprinted out of the break room, skidding to a stop when you noticed everyone staring at you.
"What, did you get burnt?" one of your coworkers asked.
"Why's there a fucking dog in– in the fuckin' break room?!" you say in exasperation, still gaining your bearings.
"oh, you met beef!" robert looked up from his desk.
"what kind of name is beef?" you contort your expression into one of disgust.
"uh, a good one. why is your face doing that?"
beef waddled out of the break room, stopping at your feet. you look down, and scream. not even just a small squeak. a full on screech, akin to the ones sonar does to echolocate. robert takes that as a sign to immediately get up from his seat and pick beef up in his arm. the office breaks out into quiet laughter.
Beef licks Roberts face and you grimace, trying to conceal your disgust and desperately failing.
"what, are you allergic?" his tone was deadpan but he genuinely looked concerned.
your skin darkens in embarrassment, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. "no i just, didnt expect a dog to be... here. in the office. here." you clear your throat, taking a few large steps away from robert and the harbinger of death, beef.
robert just... stares at you. yeah, you weren't going to recover from this one.
"I'll keep him at home if you're scared of him."
"No, I'm not scared of him, just perturbed by his presence."
"perturbed. yeah, sure. seems a lot like being scared to me."
"no, just keep him here, it's fine." you continued to back away. "ill find a solution." you were pretty far from him now. "bye."
robert chuckled. "yeah, bye."
after that... embarrassing incident, you decided to keep a ten feet distance from beef at all times. your coworkers would be kind enough to keep him away from you while you worked, and invisigal had decided to give you various dog themed items to see if it would induce the same reaction. it didnt. it just irritated you. you even threw the dog shaped mug at her, only for her to catch it perfectly and stick her tongue out at you.
one day, after the day had ended and people were beginning to leave, you were gathering up your things when you heard the jingle of a bell coming up behind you. you turned around with a start, scanning the area for any sign of beef.
and soon enough, the dog had dashed into your line of sight, running as fast as his stubby legs could allow him. he let out a small bark, sitting down a few feet away from you. before you could even process it, robert had run over to pick beef up and whisk him away from your vicinity.
"oh god. sorry about that." he sighed. "he's probably looking for food."
"you're good." you skirt the edges of your cubicle to get away from the dog.
robert watches you with a quizzical expression. "he doesn't bite, you know?" he reassures.
"I'm sure he doesn't i just... don't like dogs."
"yeah, i could tell." he takes a step towards you. "just try petting him, maybe? I won't let him lick your hand or anything, just give it a try."
you look at beef, then at robert, at his freckles and furrowed brows as he tries to be soft and comforting to convince you to pet beef. "petting the beef is supposed to have rejuvenating effects." he deadpans in a news reporter voice. you laugh despite your lingering fear.
you reluctantly step closer, close enough to only be a footstep away from him. you reach your hand out towards beef, furrowing your brows in contemplation. beef looks up at you, tongue sticking out and pupils dilated in the most adorable way possible. you smile, giving him an awkward pat on the head like a robot would.
"see? it's not so bad." your hand lingers over the top of the dogs head. he gently holds your wrist, the touch sending lightning bolts through your nerves, and guides your hand back to beef's head, making you run your hand over the soft fur. it... really was rejuvenating, actually. he lets go of your wrist, and you pull your hand back.
"he's soft." you blurt. what a stupid thing to say. he's a dog, of course he's soft. what were you thinkin–
robert laughs. "so i take it you hate him a little less now?"
"maybe." you mumble.
since then, you've opened up a bit more to beef. the distance you kept from him was now five feet instead of ten. and you didn't actively run away from him. as you got more accustomed to his presence, you even let him rest by your cubicle and eat a few strips of chicken from your sandwich. after washing them of course. robert still had to convince you to pet him though. and beef seemed to... really like you, actually. so much so that robert would have to actively drag him away from your cubicle, a scene that would always make you laugh.
maybe beef was just trying to matchmake the both of you.
