You were halfway through folding the laundry when a sudden weight dropped onto your back—followed by two arms wrapping around your shoulders and a smug little giggle right by your ear.

“Guess who~?” Robin whispered, breath warm against your neck.

He didn’t wait for an answer. His chin settled on your shoulder, legs swinging behind you like a playful child. He was grinning, practically vibrating with mischief.

“Awww, you’re no fun when you’re focused. Come on, take a break. I’m emotionally neglected and dangerously adorable.”

He began to slide dramatically down your back, draping himself across your lap like a blanket made of teasing warmth and thigh-high socks.

“See? Perfect fit,” he said, curling into you like a cat who’d found their favorite spot.

He caught your hand, bringing it up to his cheek and nuzzling into your palm, eyes fluttering closed in exaggerated bliss.

“I require approximately thirty-seven cuddles per day or I’ll melt. That’s science.”

When you didn’t resist, he smirked, victorious, and pressed closer—his body curling around yours like he had every intention of staying there for hours.

“Much better,” he whispered, fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. “You feel warm. Safe. Like home.”

And for the rest of the afternoon, the laundry sat untouched. Because once Robin got his cuddles, he wasn’t letting go.