writing sideblog

intro post :D

i’m blue, i write drabbles and oneshots. everything is gn unless specified :]

currently writing for dispatch (mainly robert)

i’m okay, i just got really bad writer’s block and i was demotivated, i don’t think i’ll be writing for robert anymore.

he yelps when you pull him into him into the water, so you nuzzle close, purring at him and rubbing against his neck to calm him down. you fumble with his wetsuit at first, eventually giving up and nicking through the thing with your claws.

he moans when you rub his cock against your slit, the sound so different from his usual rougher tone. you grind down and his hips buck up against yours, desperate and overeager.

the only thing is, when he cums, you don’t feel the familiar pressure of eggs filling you up. maybe he didn’t finish? so you get right back to grinding against him, rubbing his cock through your slit, sinking deeper. his noises have changed, high and whiny now.

maybe it’s his way of saying you’re his, maybe it’s his oral fixation kicking in. but either way, you’re getting some marks.

he’ll curl close, teeth pressed to your pulse. feeling it flutter under his lips before he gently bites down, leaving a mark behind. he continues, trailing down your neck, your collarbone. lips pressing to every inch of skin he can access.

down your chest, your midriff. biting at your hip and feeling you shudder, humming softly in response. he can see your arousal, but he’s not interested in that. moreso in how he can work you up with no touch and just his mouth. 

it’s not hard to figure out. not with how he can hear how your heart beats faster around him, smell the nervous anxiety (and arousal) whenever he’s near you. and maybe he likes to tease.

claws wrapping around your wrist to pull you close, ignoring how you stammer and flush so he can press his teeth to your throat. dangerously close to a mating bite, the gesture has your knees weak, breathing coming out shuddery as he noses over your pulse.

and then he’s tilting your head up and licking against your mouth. you’ve seen him do this with other wolves, more a friendly greeting than anything else. but with you on the receiving end, it feels different. 

more heated, messier, keeping you pinned in place. almost like a kiss, and you nearly whimper at the implication. robert likes when you get like this—flustered, shy. easier for him to mess with.

and yet he can’t cum, cock twitching uselessly, because you haven’t given him permission to cum inside yet. he’s slurring his words, claws leaving red lines on your hips with how hard he’s clutching you, teeth grazing your neck but not directly biting down.

tiger shark mer! robert who meets dwarf lantern shark mer! reader and basically blue screens.

you’re so small. practically the size of his forearm, shadowed in size by him. a look of awe on your face as you stare up at him, fins flicking while you wait for him to react. pup, his hindbrain coos, and robert’s already itching to hold you.

so he does.

it’s not his fault you smell so good, okay? the smell of your soap or whatever perfume/cologne/ect you always wear gets him dizzy, desperate, hard. he honestly doesn’t know what it is, but he wants more.

whenever you get home, he’ll curl close, eyes fluttering shut as he presses his face against your chest. mind going deliciously hazy as he smells whatever soap you use and the faint hint of sweat. 

he’ll grab your hand and pull you into the bedroom, mumbling something about how good you smell as he presses his nose into the curve of your neck. not so subtly grinding his hard-on against your hip, groan turning into a low whine when you press your knee between his leg.

(thank you anon :])

mer! robert already knows something’s wrong before the handlers even come.

he can tell just from the signs—glassy eyes, the way you haven’t been eating, the paleness that colors your scales. you’re sick. he doesn’t leave your side, tail swishing anxiously, curled close like that will fix it.

he bites a handler when they take you. it’s anger, sharp and territorial. mine, his hindbrain screams, and he’s clamping down on the nearest gloved hand. they don’t react, just leave, all hushed tones and quick glances at him. 

it’s not obvious, and it’s not excessive. just a firm squeeze to your shoulder, or a hand splayed across your back. casual. grounding. like he isn’t sending sparks down your spine and making your heart skitter with his touch.

he slips into your space so easily. making room for himself, like he belongs there. 

leaning over you to point out something on the computer screen, dangerously close to you. nudging you out of the the way or grabbing you by the neck like he’s not even thinking about it, grip firm and nearly dizzying.

and every single time, there’s a pulse of arousal underneath the adrenaline and excitement you get around him. sharp and sudden, not easy to just brush off or ignore. it lingers, and aches.

most of the time you just end up face down, ass up in your bed, moaning into your pillows as you touch yourself. dizzy at the thought of him pushing you into the bedsheets, propping your hips up for him, hands rough against you.

teeth pressing into your neck, voice dark with arousal. the smell of sweat and his want for you in the air.

when he’s drifting off, it starts. the soft press of knuckles against his back, pressure pushing and pulling until his eyes flutter shut and you pull him closer with a satisfied hum.

or during work, when you stop by to say hi. fingers fluttering over his wrist, easing any aches he might have. pressing a small kiss to his forehead as you do so, eyes bright with happiness.

robert rolls his sleeves up for something and the instant you see him like that you’re biting down on his biceps (gently of course, you don’t want to hurt him) mumbling something about how cute he looks as you pull away.

or maybe he wears his cute pajamas, the ones with little dogs on them, and then you’re pulling him into your lap. running your hands through his hair, ruffling it up and cooing at him about how snuggly he is right now.

especially if you’re a virgin??? fuck, he gets hard at just the thought of you on your knees for the first time. fantasizes about being the first to touch you, to show you what feels good and make you cum on his fingers. 

and when he does get you in his bed…well.

he goes slow at first. gets you settled with two, three fingers, drags all those pretty noises from your throat, lips against your neck and his fingers curling against your sweet spot.

and he takes his time sinking into you, letting you get used to him. smoothing a hand over your stomach, saying how cute you look like this underneath him. cooing at you when you flush, still flustered from the mere prospect of this.

you didn’t expect to like the idea of robert pinning you to the bed, whining against pillows when he tells you how good you look like this, slick and tight around him, shuddering whenever he presses a hand against your stomach. but you do.

which is obvious—because when he’s worrying about rent and the mech and food and everything else, and he didn’t have good sleep even before the coma, and he doesn’t even have a bed—he doesn’t really have time for sleep.

which is why he’s hesitant to stay in bed when he moves in with you. he likes cuddling with you, sure. but he gets restless, not used to actually being comfortable when he tries to sleep. most of the times he just ends up sitting on the couch, half-awake and frustrated with himself.

and when your arms wrap around him one night, he’s already pulling away instinctively. but you don’t let him. “c’mere,” you mumble, voice heavy with sleep. “don’t leave.” he’s so tired, and he doesn’t really want to leave. 

so robert stays, and he’s safe. held by you, arm draped over your chest, head tucked into the space between your shoulder and neck—robert sleeps. and when he wakes up the next morning, he actually feels good.

purposefully sitting in his lap during meetings even when there’s free seats, grinding back onto his half-hardon and making him stumble over his speech. sitting back against him fully just to hear how his breathing hitches and his heart bears a little faster. z-team definitely teases him about this.

dragging him into break rooms and closets, making out with him with a knee shoved between his legs and your hands fisting his work shirt. he gets so incredibly flustered if anyone points out his ruffled hair or the flush on his cheeks, but…some part of him likes it.

and, of course, you do get a little brave sometimes. 

kissing and touching turning to giving him a handjob while he’s on break, a hand pressed over his mouth to hide all his desperate moans. or maybe flirting over comms, telling him all the things you’d like to do with him once he’s finally off work.

meaning that any time his pain flares up, he’s dragging you into bed with him, mumbling something about how you make it all better. pressing your palms against his chest or his legs or his own fingers—wherever it hurts—and finally relaxing as you work to numb the pain.

most of the time, you’re using your full powers, and this would probably give robert frostbite. but for him, you dial it back. enough to have a pleasant numbing effect, but not enough to hurt.