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ckret2 · 4 years

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Mutant Dorat (Part 2)

This is part 2 of a commission fic for @sableghoste. You can read Part 1 here, but if you don't wanna read that part: the premise is Ghidorah is three juvenile dorats (cat/bat/snake pet things) and Rodan is a horrifically mutated baby dorat rescued from a military experimentation facility. And then they flirt. It’s nothing but Baby Monsters Being Cute fluff here, folks.

Cast of characters, ME-319 is a Xilien dorat breeder/caretaker, Noodle is Ichi/Ghidorah’s middle head (because I refuse to dignify him with a respectable name), and the "new arrival" is, of course, Rodan.

I ain't proofed this because it's already pretty late, it'll get proofed when it goes up on AO3.

###

Day three of the new mutant dorat living in ME-319's aerie.

Every time she glanced out of her office, he was easy to immediately spot. For one thing, among a sea of sleek golden serpents, he was the only one covered in dark rough rocky chunks.

For another, he was almost always alone.

When the other adolescents chased each other around in a flurry of excited activity, he tried to join in; and every time he did, they moved out of his way en masse, like a school of fish fleeing before an approaching predator. Whenever he flopped down to rest, the others gave him a wide berth, even getting up and scooting somewhere else to nap if he was too close.

It was just like she'd feared. The poor escaped lab experiment was just too different for the other dorats his age to see him as one of their kind. At least they weren't aggressive with him—but for a social little dorat, this kind of isolation wasn't any better.

ME-319 was worriedly checking up on him for the tenth time that day when she saw, for the first time, another dorat getting close to the mutant. Who was that—Noodle? Yes, that was Noodle. Huh. She'd never noted him to be particularly curious or courageous. Was he trying to figure out what the new arrival was?

She got up from her desk and stood at the door to her office, one hand on the latch as she watched out the window, waiting to see how this turned out. If all went well, she'd let them be; but she had to be ready to intervene at the first sign of violence.

She hoped this went well.

###

Okay. This was the third day the new arrival had been here. So he wasn't one of the temporary visitors that came in with owners for an afternoon and then go home. He probably going to stick around for a while.

It was time.

Noodle was going to make his move.

He couldn't risk letting anyone else move first. Sure, they were avoiding the new arrival for now—but sooner or later someone else was going to notice his gorgeous golden eyes, or realize how wonderfully intimidating those copper-black spines of his were. Noodle wasn't exactly what one would call a catch, what with his flaky scales (itched like nobody's business) and his rather under-developed tail spines. Not like, say, Pineapple. Mister Pine-"Wow I Haven't Even Noticed How Hot My Big Sharp Tail Spines Are, Let Me Swing Them All Over The Place And Get Them Stuck On Everything"-Apple. Jerk. If he took an interest in the new arrival—or, heck, anyone else between Noodle and Pineapple—he wouldn't stand a chance.

His only chance of getting close to that fine set of wings was by beating all his competition to the punch. He had to make his move.

So he waited on the fringes of the mob of playing kids—they were all avoiding the new arrival (for now)—until the shared frenzy of activity had died down; and then, while the new arrival was flopped down tiredly, grooming his spiny hide, he scooted in.

He was uncomfortably aware of others watching him as he approached the new arrival. If this didn't go well, he was going to draw everyone else's attention to the new arrival. He'd better get this right the first time. He had to be the most attractive, the most handsome, the most amazing and impressive—

What if the new arrival was into flights instead of spinetails? What would Noodle do then?

Don't worry about it. Just keep going. Stay on task—

Oh he was looking at Noodle.

Noodle—who until then had been slinking stealthily down low, neck and long tail practically slithering across the floor—jerked abruptly upright, staring. Oh. Okay. He had the new arrival's attention. Good! That was what he wanted! Exactly as planned!

The new arrival tilted his head curiously.

Should Noodle just—just start, then? He raised a his tail uncertainly but didn't try to rattle its spines just yet, not sure if he was supposed to just go for it or if he was supposed to wait for some sort of signal from his audience. It always seemed easy when the elders did it. Maybe he should have followed some of them around to find out—

The new arrival let out a harsh greeting caw, launched himself up in the air, and dove at Noodle claws first.

Noodle yelped.

They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of wings and claws.

Abort mission abort mission he was not prepared for this! Wrestling was way farther than anything he'd planned for today! He was not trained in combat! He was hardly even trained in running around in circles! He was not an athletically inclined child!

He barely managed to whack the new arrival off of him with his tail and scrambled for the safety of the watching crowd.

Stupid stupid stupid STUPID stupid. Ohhh wow he looked like a loser now. That was it. He'd ruined his chances.

No—no, it couldn't be too late. He refused to accept the possibility. If the new arrival wanted him to prove himself in combat, then he'd learn how to fight. He knew the kids that got into scraps most often—he could spar with them. And once he wasn't terrible, he could try again.

In the meantime, if anyone else got close to the new arrival, he'd just have to sabotage them. Right? Sure. How hard could it be.

He shuffled off behind the chains dangling off the nearest low nest to watch the new arrival from afar. He'd righted himself after their brief skirmish, glanced around—for his battle partner? For someone else to fight?—then apparently had given up. Now he was flapping his way up to a higher nest. Instead of getting in, he latched his claws into the chain linked bottom side, dangled from the bottom of it, and swung back and forth, chirping merrily to himself. Wow. The power and grace. He was so acrobatic.

One way or another, Noodle was going to seduce him.

###

ME-319 winced as her newest dorat lost his grip on the bottom of the nest and tumbled to the ground with a squawk. At least he didn't seem harmed; he rolled over, shook his head, and fluttered right back up. And his short confrontation with Noodle had ended before she'd needed to intervene. He was fine. She forced her grip on her door handle to loosen.

Still. It had taken three days for one of the other adolescents to finally work up the nerve to try to befriend him, and he'd immediately scared him off. Why? Was he as scared of the other dorats as the dorats were scared of the strange mutant? It was possible—she had no idea what kind of experiences he might have gone through before he was rescued and brought to her. Between his physical deformities and the fact that he clearly hadn't been socialized by other dorats, she couldn't pick up on any of the usual body language she used to determine her other dorats' moods.

After that disastrous first meeting, maybe ME-319 had better prepare herself for the possibility that her little mutant was always going to be a loner. At a minimum, she doubted that Noodle was ever going to express any interest in him again.

###

If you enjoyed this fic, I'd appreciate a comment or reblog! Part 3 coming... eventually.

#rodan #ghidorah #king ghidorah #rodorah #godzilla #fanfic #my writing

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whoever-iwant-tobe · 5 years

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It wasn’t meant to be a long game. (part 1 of ?)

David x Natalie-- honestly, what I imagine their history and life to be. Obviously this is made up, but some of the actual timeline stuff is most positively messed up because my memory is shit so just pretend my timeline is entirely fictional so that you aren’t holding me to any type of standards. This is my first fic ever and is probably teeming with errors.

Warnings: none YET. No promises on part 2.

___________________________________

You were surprised when you got the text.

“What are your plans for the next 6 months”

“?????”

You hadn’t talked to him for a while, you were in your last semester of classes before your internship (not to mention the hunt for an internship that wouldn’t make you want to absolutely die) and he was living a zillion miles away. On top of that, you both had separate lives now, relationships, separate friends.

“Dave what are you talking about?”

Facetime request from David. When you answer, you don’t even try to hide the confused look on your face.

“I want you to be my assistant. It can be your internship! Since I’m an LLC or whatever the fuck, it can be legit. I’ll pay you! I’ll pay more than the fancy event planning place downtown will. Come onnnn”

“I’m sorry but why the fuck do you need an assistant?”

“Jack says I need one and honestly my world is kind of a giant mess right now and you’re the only one I can imagine trusting to help run my life”

“Dave, I don’t know. LA is so far, and then there’s Shawn... I just don’t know”

“I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. 6 months, then you can help me find someone to replace you if you wanna leave”

So, you went.

That was 18 months ago, and you were still in LA. But your life was completely different. Now, when you went in public, people stopped and asked for pictures. What started as picking up Chipotle for Dave turned into sitting in his trailer on sets, coordinating with his publicist (yes, a publicist!), and training people to do the grunt work that used to be yours. What started as parking tickets in your dad’s hand-me-down car parked outside of Bellingham turned into making yourself a home in the place you shared with David overlooking the better bits of the city.

What also changed was that you and David were both single, out of long term relationships that, if we’re being honest, never had a shot at lasting. They felt perfect for both of you from the thick of it, but once you were on the outside, the troubles were glaringly obvious.

What didn’t change was the way you bickered like people who’d known each other half a lifetime, the way he listened when you put your foot down, or the way his bullshit antics still made you laugh even when you knew they were risky as hell.

9 months ago, something shifted. Where you used to tiptoe around each other out of respect for the other’s partner, walls came down. David didn’t feel like he needed to keep such a healthy distance like he did when Shawn was still in the picture. You didn’t feel like an outsider interfering with every little mention or memory of Liza like you did before. Now you could be the actual best friends you were before it all. Before the fame and before Liza and Shawn and before all of this.

You were 14 when you found out he had a crush on you, but the thing about being a 14 year old girl is that you don’t actually feel like you’re ‘allowed’ to have a crush on whoever you want. Like whoever you’re crushing on needs to be someone who will impress your friends. Now you know it’s bullshit, but 14 year old you knew that your goofy, kind of dorky next door neighbor wasn’t going to be a crush that would impress anyone. So you did the logical thing, something you’ll probably regret for the rest of forever, and decided that you were only going to “have crushes on football players,” because that would impress your friends. You couldn’t imagine the teasing you’d endure if your girlfriends heard about the soft spot you had for your dorky next door neighbor, so you repressed. You repressed it until you didn’t even really believe it was there either.

You didn’t know that your 14 year old next door neighbor was kind of crushed when he found out you were not only not interested in him, but the guys you were crushing on were nothing like him. 14 year old David had lots of friends, and it kind of protected him from comparing himself or categorizing himself, but seeing you choose the football players was quite possibly the biggest ego blow of his whole life. It was where he realized that people have leagues, and you were out of his. Way out of his. So, like you, he repressed. He accepted friendship because he still wanted you in his life. Like a lot. So he pursued a friendship, and you were open to it because you wanted him in your life too. He teased and played with you, but he knew where he thought he stood, and he didn’t push it.

Adult Dave and Natalie were playing the same game you’d started when your were 14. Repression, denial of feelings. Except David wasn’t the dorky next door neighbor with braces anymore, and having crushes wasn’t for impressing your friends anymore. But the damage was done. Despite millions of dollars and followers, admiration, and all the fancy things he could want, David still had it internalized that you were miles out of his league. So you stayed in your leagues.

This is where the regret of a 14 year old girl haunts a 22 year old woman. Its where she wonders what would be different, if the damage is too much to overcome, or if it would even be worth it.

Ever since his public breakup and your private one (exposed by the stans, to no real fault of anyone-- everyone was bound to catch on), things have changed. He’s more open with you, your relationship is more balanced, and those little voids in your lives that your partners left are being filled with each other. You’re an assumed duo, a de facto pair. You tell each other more than you have in years, and you lean into one another for support. You’re closer than you’ve ever been. You start to miss him when you travel separately, and that is confusing to you. You start to notice how good he looks when he’s fresh out of yet another shower, before he’s picked a truly stupid fight with you that ends up in fits of laughter from you both (or some passive aggressive twitter activity). The regret of a 14 year old girl creeps back-- the girl who’s own self consciousness about who she should “like” had broken her neighbor’s heart, spirit, and ego. She’d spent their formative years denying she ever “liked” him like that, and he’d spent his convincing himself he could never have her, until he’d convinced himself to put her out of his mind.

When there was distance, it was easy to squash feelings. Out of sight, out of mind. When the distance was gone and she’d moved in with him, they both had their own stacked deck of distractions. Even though she was micromanaging his life and the physical distance was gone, there was still an emotional barrier. They had other partners and they were friends with a business relationship. Hell, he didn’t even claim her as one of his best friends in interviews. She wondered if she deserved that, after she’d crushed his spirit at 14.

But then the barriers broke, your relationships ended-- his was a long and brutal 12 months of pining. Your decision had been made months before you finally cut the cord, though. So your breakup was a bit easier. Once you were both “over it,” so to speak, you threw yourselves into your work. Dave was making moves online, you helped Jack find him a publicist, and his schedule was exploding. Time that used to be spent sitting around at Bellingham, picking up food, and booking prop- animals was long gone. You were being put in the vlogs more, which was not your favorite, but you knew how much David loved it. He always loved your reactions, and you weren’t one to make him unhappy on purpose unless he deserved it.

Now it was interviews and premieres and bringing your new LA friend on as another assistant to lighten the load. You had a fanbase now, and like a million followers and fan accounts. You were traveling more, in big groups, in small groups with just the two of you and Jason, and sometimes just you and Dave. Your favorite was when it was just the 2 or 3 of you. You didn’t have to be always on, didn’t have to impress anyone, and you could be yourselves. And as much as Dave loves surrounding himself with action and chaos, you knew he loved those trips too. The two of you were growing closer and it made your heart feel full.

There was a turning point for the two of you, and it hit right around the time you helped him put together a whole sham marriage as a prank on Jason. The two of you were side-by-side in your first class seats on a late night flight to Boston to get Lorraine. You couldn’t bring anyone with or draw attention to yourselves online or it would blow your cover. So for the first time in a really long time, the two of you got to be normal. No rush to edit, no stories to post. You got to talk and laugh and relax for those glorious hours, 30,000ish feet in the air. You wrapped yourselves in the airline blankets and talked about the things you’d avoided. How you were both doing post-break up. Who you thought should get married next (besides David and Lorraine and Erin and TJ-- your vote was Heath and Mariah). Before you knew it, you found yourselves in a game of 20 questions, just like when you were teens. It was like the universal 13-15 year old way to flirt or to tell someone you like them or to find out who they liked. But there you were, two grownass adults in first classs, leaning on your sides and playing 20 questions.

“So are you over over Shawn?” yes.

Will you ever be over Liza? “I’m almost there.”

“What happened with us?” We’ve always been friends.

“No, like why did we grow apart?” Well I went to college, and you chased your dreams.

“Do you ever wish some things had gone differently when we were younger?” Absolutely.

For the first time in a really, really long time, the two of you just looked at one another. Silently. For a long time. It wasn’t awkward. It was like you were both thinking about the same thing without discussing it aloud.

After a good long while, David finally spoke. “I’m glad we’re doing this together Nat. I couldn’t do it without you.”

“Me too, Dave”

And you both knew that neither of you were talking about the sham marriage he was about to get into. You were talking about this life you were now building together.

Before you knew it, your eyes had grown heavy. The two of you fell asleep face to face, propped up by the airline seats you never fully converted into beds, and for the first time in a while, feeling content.

------------------

[more to come when I find the time]

#david dobrik #datalie #david x natalie #vlog squad #daviddobrik #natalinanoel #natalie mariduena #david dobrik smut #because there might be some later #david dobrik fanfiction

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wildefiction · 5 years

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Insatiable

PAIRING: Rob Benedict x Reader

WORK COUNT: 5,521

SUMMARY: What happens when Rob's forgetful nature forces the reader to have to react quickly?

WARNINGS: Flirting, Heavy-Petting, First Kiss, Personal Assistant Relationship, Pining, Smut, Public Sex

A/N: This was written as a direct 180 degree turn in Robs' personality from @mamabug1981's 'Leather and Eyeliner' story - born from a stunning visual of Rob in eyeliner and tattoos <3

Turns out there's some confidence lurking beneath the surface of our shy, awkward Rock God..

The sharp rapping of knuckles on the hotel room door was startling. Tossing the tablet propped on your lap to land with a quiet fwhup on the duvet, you slid from the bed - the schedule you'd been memorizing for the weekend momentarily forgotten as you made your way towards the sound.

Twisting the deadbolt, no sooner had the door begun to open then Rob came striding into the room. Twisting fistfuls of hair in his grip, he began to pace at the foot of the bed, his blue eyes fraught with worry.

“I fucked up [Y/F/N]!” “I fucked up!”

A small smile pulled at one corner of your mouth. Checking the abandoned hallway for anyone who might've accompanied him, you closed the door before turning to face the anxious man.

“Breathe, Rob...breathe..” Clasping one hand on his shoulder, you fixed your eyes on his. Moving from his shoulder to place one palm on either side of his face, you made a show of taking several deep breaths, prompting him to follow your lead. Gradually, his heart-rate lowered until he was no longer on the verge of hyperventilating. You'd been his personal assistant for almost two years and calming him in this way was something you'd learned over time.

“Now, what's up?” Releasing your hold and stepping back a few paces, you sat on the edge of the mattress, crossing your arms, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I was supposed to bring a costume for the concert tonight and I...I completely spaced.”

Plopping onto the bed next to you, his weight sunk into the mattress, the worn springs groaning under the intrusion. He was back to raking long fingers through his properly messy hair.

“Oh, is that all? This is for Rich, right?” Nodding mutely, Rob raised his head from his hands, the thick waves now sticking out in every conceivable direction. Pushing up from your spot on the bed, you might've laughed if you weren't trying very hard not to think about your boss in other situations that might result in this same state of disarray.

“I got ya, dude - no sweat.” Crossing the room and pulling a hanger from the closet, it was Rob's turn to laugh at the red jumpsuit and accompanying blue cotton-candy wig.

“Matt gets a matching set.” The grin on your face left no doubt at how proud you'd been at finding such great outfits. The pair if them really were the epitome of Thing 1 and Thing 2.

“What would I do without you [Y/F/N]? The sigh of relief accompanied a softened expression. Shrugging in response, you held the hanger out to him as he made for the door.

Glancing at the clock as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans, you watched him silently contemplate what he was supposed to do next.

Eyes flicking to the mirror hung just inside the door, he studied his appearance for a moment before declaring that he was in sore need of a haircut.

“Do I have time before the show?” The question was muttered under his breath, but you were so used to knowing his schedule that you answered anyway.

“If you go now, you'll be fine.” Ushering him out the door, you returned to your work - hoping to finish before the concert. Watching him on stage was great incentive. The shy, awkward, loveable man had the uncanny ability to morph into a confident, showy, rock God at a moments notice - that switch so easily flipped that it took even you by surprise some days.

*****

He was crazy, why had he let Billy talk him into this?

[Y/F/N] had sent him a text shortly after he'd left, begging him to not do anything crazy. But, what had he done? The exact opposite. He wasn't seventeen anymore, he had no business cutting his hair the way he had. Now he stood at her door again, second-guessing his choices, just like always. And then he was knocking. Dropping his head, the ten seconds that passed before the sound of the lock sliding back was an eternity.

*****

Pulling open the door, your first thought was interrupted by your second, and then a third. None of them remotely coherent. But then Rob slowly lifted his head, the blue-gray hue of his eyes staring up at you from beneath dark lashes; breath caught in your chest at the sight. The arm supporting his weight on the doorframe corded with muscle, veins straining at his wrists. Several bracelets encircled the left one, the right covered with a thick leather cuff. A simple black Zeppelin tee stretched around his arms and across his chest. Your eyes trailed down the dark grey skinny jeans fastened with a wide leather belt at his waist, ending in a pair of well-loved chucks; classic in their black and white stitching.

Your mouth was dry. The metallic glint of a wallet chain caught your eye before you focused again on his expression. It was almost apprehensive. As you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, your eyes shifted to his hair. How it hadn't been the first thing you'd noticed was beyond you. Each side of his head had been shaved short, the length gathered on top and combed into a mohawk. Instead of the intelligent question you'd been about to ask, all that came from your mouth was a barely-stifled squeak.

“Oh..jeezus” Barely a whisper, you could feel a blush creep across your cheeks as Rob's look of concern flickered briefly, turning almost predatory. At least, that's the word you might've used had the man had an aggressive bone anywhere in his body.

Blinking several times in rapid succession, you stood back, inviting him into the room - the soft click of the latch on the door following shortly after.

“Whe--uh” clearing your throat, you tried again “where's your costume?” The high-pitched lilt to your voice betrayed the nonchalant expression you were trying very hard to keep in place. Either he didn't notice the change or he chose not to comment.

“Rich forgot too. Lucky for me..I uh..I guess. Only now, I don't have a costume to wear for tonight.” “Any bright ideas?” Those eyes of his still fixed intently on yours.

He was back to pacing the small space at the foot of the bed, his hands resting on his hips.

With a deep breath, you looked him up and down. There was only a couple things that could make him look better than he did now.

“Do you trust me?” Blurting out the sentence before you'd had a chance to properly prepare for his reaction, you watched as he slowed, seemingly thinking about his answer, never taking his eyes off of yours. After a moment, he nodded, “Uh..I-I guess?” The confusion was plain on his face, his head tilting briefly to one side as he regarded your expression, searching for any clues as to what your idea might be.

Disappearing into the bathroom, you emerged a moment later with a black eye pencil and a small bottle, the tip edged in a flat nozzle.

Gesturing to one of the wooden chairs flanking a polished table in the corner of the room, you followed as he walked in that direction, his face still unsure when he'd lowered himself onto the edge, fingers gripping the sides of the seat.

“Okay. I'm going to need you to hold very still.” “Like. Please don't move. I don't think I could concentrate if you did - besides..no one wants to look like a racoon.”

Eyebrows furrowing further in confusion, Rob glanced between you and the kohl pencil you held up in front of him.

“Wooahh, wa-wait just a minute...I..what are you doing? I don't wear makeup.”

Scoffing, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, you stared at him for a moment before approaching.

“You're an actor, this is wardrobe. Think of it that way. Besides..you show up to the concert after I'm through with you and you're guaranteed to be beating women off with a stick all night.” You kept to yourself the idea that you'd be the one doing the beating.

It was Rob's turn to blush this time, but he remained silent.

Inching as close to him as possible, you bent at the waist, a reassuring smile on your face as you approached.

“Okay, just look up - and try not to move.”

Doing as you asked, Rob concentrated on the off-white panels set into the ceiling.

Your own face mere inches from his, you set to work, lining his eyes with the dark makeup.

*****

[Y/F/N] was so close, Rob could almost feel the heat of her body. Her chest rose and fell steadily, and although she likely hadn't intended to, the tank top she wore with her sweats showed off every curve of her body. Swallowing thickly, he raised his eyes back to the ceiling - trying his hardest to find something interesting to focus on.

*****

After a few tense minutes, you leaned back to inspect your handiwork. Rolling his eyes down from whatever he'd been so intently staring at, the darkness lining his beautiful eyes ignited a small fire low in your belly. Turning away as quickly as possible, you covered your mouth to stifle the groan that involuntarily tried to escape.

Rob was out of his seat immediately, his long fingers wrapping around your upper arm, concerned at your sudden change in behavior. As his grip tightened and he turned you to face him, you found yourself concentrating on keeping your breathing even, while the fire inside your gut crackled and grew.

For the second time that night, you looked at him from only a few inches away, the tip of your nose just brushing his. Warm breath, held for the barest of moments, escaped from parted lips and you wondered what they might feel like. Frozen in place, you could only close your eyes when his palm slid up to cradle your face.

“What's the matter [Y/F/N]?”

Knowing him, he was looking right at you, trying to get your attention.

“Is everything okay?” Taking another deep breath, you steeled yourself and opened your eyes. He was still so close. Too close. Nodding quickly, you stepped back, retrieving the ink bottle from the table. By the time you were at his side again, you were breathing normally, fully intent on forgetting the entire situation.

“Ridiculous, huh?” His voice barely a whisper, all thoughts from what had just happened seemed to vanish, replaced with a blanket of anxiety.

“I-I know I'm no-”

“No. Rob. Don't.” Cutting him off mid-sentence, you waited for him to look at you again before continuing.

“I assure you..I wasn't laughing. Just..yeah. Trust me. Definitely not laughing.”

He still looked doubtful, but nodded anyhow.

Smiling in encouragement, you reached for his arm, placing it palm up on the table. Unscrewing the lid of the small bottle held in one hand, you began drawing on his exposed forearm.

Finished with the tattoo of a heartbeat, you stepped closer. Brushing the tips of your fingers under his chin, your eyes met briefly before you tilted his head to the side and began dragging the tip of the bottle over the curves of his neck.

Watching as the pulse there began thrumming harder with each passing moment, you chuckled to yourself, “little nervous there Mr. Benedict?”

When he said nothing, you leaned closer, and, maintaining eye-contact, blew softly along the skin to help dry the still-glistening obsidian ink. Rob’s eyes fluttered closed, a low growl bubbling up from his chest even as you turned away. The vice-like grip that closed around one wrist before you’d taken more than three steps brought you colliding into his chest. Locking one arm around your waist, you were made very aware that he possessed a strength you’d never witnessed.

“[Y/F/N]...” the single word was almost a warning.

The hollow sound of a fist banging on the door broke the secluded world you’d been engaged in. Rob’s fingers curled into a fist at his side, the knuckles white with impatience. Crossing the room in several strides, you pulled open the door to find Richard and Matt waiting in the hallway.

“Hey, hey! [Y/F/N]! Where ya hiding Bob-O?” Shoving his way through the opening, Rich found Rob with his back turned, one hand dragging over his face as he turned to the newcomers.

“Impeccable timing.” “As always.” He didn’t bother trying to hide the annoyance in his features.

Eyes darting between you and Rob, then across to Matt, who merely shrugged, Rich clapped a hand on Rob's shoulder. Holding him at arm's length, his left eyebrow raised, almost completely hidden beneath the wig perched on his head, “Did I...interrupt something?”

The stupid grin on his face had you smiling again. Shaking your head, you stepped back enough to press each of your palms into the center of their backs, “you guys are going to be late - get out of here.”

Collapsing against the door after you'd finally gotten them outside, you slid to the ground, knees weak after what had just happened. This was ridiculous - where were these sudden feelings springing from and what the hell had Rob been about to say?

Somewhere across the room, an alarm sounded. Picking yourself up from the floor, you found and silenced your phone, retreating to the bathroom to get ready for the concert.

*****

Rob was still on edge. He'd almost lost control when [Y/F/N] had teased him as she had. Although he was positive she had been trying to get him to relax, it'd had almost the exact opposite effect.

Now, pacing the green room, his hands trembled, the bowl of corn nuts he snacked on vibrating with the nerves shooting through his body.

“Ten minutes guys.”

Focusing on the familiar voice, Rob turned to find that [Y/F/N] had arrived. The others nodded their understanding, moving to prepare for the night. Talking amongst themselves, they failed to notice the color drain from Rob's face. What was she thinking!? Better still, what was she wearing?

*****

In lieu of her normal leggings and oversized band tees, [Y/F/N] had decided, on a whim, to see if she could elicit more of Rob's earlier behavior. She didn't know what it was, but the heat spreading through her body was something she wanted to feel more of, and she had a sneaking suspicion this might do the trick.

Short, black boots laced up over light-washed skinny jeans, the fabric clinging to her thighs and hips like a second skin. Thin straps crossed over each other decoratively, joining at the shoulders of a tight-fitting knit top. Just under the curves of her breasts, the striking red material flowed freely, falling slightly past her waist.

While ushering the band from the room, [Y/F/N] watched Rob from her peripheral vision. He'd stopped pacing, that much was clear.

When everyone had left aside from Rob, you turned, holding the door open for him as you always did. He hadn't moved. Standing across the room, arms crossed over his chest, the dark t-shirt accentuated the swell of his deltoids and biceps. You knew he'd been hitting the gym more often than in the past, and it was starting to show.

“Coming?” Arching an eyebrow in his direction, you rolled your eyes when he remained steadfast, his expression some mix of contemplation and exasperation. He was good at this. The thoughts in his head often swirled together so completely that he'd miss entire interactions in his attempt to figure them out. And, as usual, when you realized what was happening, you simply went on about your day - waiting for him to get caught up.

Finally, he focused. Nodding, he crossed the room, joining you in the hallway that ran between the greenroom and the stage.

Laughter could be heard on the opposite side of the thick, heavy drapes - the concert was always full of energy. Your favorite place to be was with your friends who lined either side of the stage. After going to a concert that wasn't at a convention, you knew you'd never go back to sitting quietly in your seat when you could be screaming and dancing near the band.

Turning a corner, the aluminum stairs gracing the stage entrance came into view; Billy disappearing at the top amid screams from the audience.

Sudden enough to be unbalancing, Rob's fingers once again found themselves around your wrist. Stopping short, you turned - or, rather, you were turned, finding your back against the solid wall of the hotel ballroom.

“Ro--” there wasn't even enough time to ask what was happening before his lips were pressed to yours. Surprise gave way to desire almost immediately, a whine of protest unavoidable as the chaste kiss was cut short.

“I - you look amazing [Y/F/N].” His left hand had released your wrist, moving to rest lightly against your hip.

The pressure of his grip tightened as he stepped closer, “you have no idea what you're doing to me right now.” The words were a whisper under his breath, but they seemed to reverberate in the space between you.

Stepping forward, your body aligned flush with his, you placed a tentative kiss just beneath his ear; a mere brush of lips against his erratic pulse.

“Show me.”

Even in the dim lighting, you could see the change in his eyes. The pupils dilating and eclipsing most of the steel blue irises; the lighter color darkened with lust.

Any restraint he'd shown crumbled at these words, the fingers of his right hand latched on to your other hip, pushing your body back against the wall you'd stepped away from, his hips rolling against yours in one fluid motion.

“Fuuucckk, [Y/F/N].”

Breath heavy, the groan spilling from his lips when they descended back to yours was pained. There wasn't enough time for where he really wanted to take this, and for the first time in years he half-considered disappearing, leaving the others to fend for themselves on stage.

The kiss was fevered, all tongue and teeth and desperation. Sweeping along your bottom lip; Rob silently asked for more.

Sighing into the kiss, you adjusted your stance, shifting to be more comfortable. Fingers dancing along his waist, they dipped beneath the tight leather of his belt, grasping a fistful of denim and dragging his body as close as you could. Sliding one hand down to encircle your thigh, Rob lifted it up to rest around his waist, digging into you with his growing erection.

Rich yelling into a microphone startled you from the haze that you'd willingly succumbed to, the fog lifting instantly as his best friend questioned his whereabouts.

“Whhhheeerrrre's Robbie? Where's Robbie?! Is he snackin’ on some corn nuts? He likes them a whole bunch - with their fun crunch...where's Bob-o?”

The audience applauded, screaming for Rob to show himself.

Reluctantly, your hands slid from his pants up to his chest, the steady thrum of his heart sure beneath your touch.

Pressing against his body, it took everything you had to not give in to your thoughts of sneaking off to somewhere a little more private.

Having worked with Rob as closely as you had, you knew he'd regret it later if he missed any part of the show.

“Rob. Fuck, you need to go. Everyone is waiting for you.”

“Let them wait. Mmmbusy ..” the last words mumbled beneath his breath.

Hands still roamed your body, his lips and mouth creating lazy paths from your ear to your collarbone and back again.

“Yeah..but..” “Damnit. Dude, where was this earlier?!” Whining into the warm skin of his neck, you took a deep breath, pressing firmly against his body until he'd pulled back enough to glance at you through dark-rimmed, hooded eyes. Sparks reignited as a low, rumbling laughter assaulted your senses.

“So...when you said you weren’t laughing…?”

“Yeah, yeah. Like I said, definitely not laughing.” Reaching up and covering your face with one hand, you tried to hide the sudden heat coloring you embarrassed. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to have such a strong reaction. Let’s just go with that.”

Grabbing his shoulder, you straightened, adjusting your clothes before turning and shoving a hand into the small of his back - steering him towards the stage.

“You need to go.” “Now.” Glancing at your phone, the light illuminating your features with it's cold blue glow, your eyes widened. “Yeah, you’re twenty minutes late - damnit.”

Rob slowed, and, hesitating only a moment was back at your side in two long strides - crushing you against his body with one arm, the other palm cradling your chin. Lips warm against yours for the briefest of moments, he tilted his forehead to your own, a small smile lifting one corner of his mouth, “later?”

The content sigh as you nodded made your heart swell. In the far recesses of your mind, you knew it wasn't wise to look too deeply into what was happening here, but the hopeless romantic in you still liked to get a bit carried away.

*****

With a surge of adrenaline, Rob flew up the stairs, grabbing his mic stand, immediately launching into the first lines of This is How.

Thoughts of [Y/F/N] invaded his mind and occasionally, he’d glance to his left, eyes raking over the way she danced with her friends, the way she screamed the lyrics to her favorite songs. It only turned him on more. How had he never noticed her before today?

With the initial strains of Roll Me Over, he glanced her direction again. While so many people thought the song was dirty, he knew it wasn’t. Did that stop him from putting extra emphasis on the lyrics when his eyes met hers? Not a chance.

“Girl, you come and say my name...you come and anything..”

Screams exploded from the pit when he swayed his hips to the beat of the music, prompting a lascivious smile to cross his face.

The concert continued with Taxi Driver, another Swain favorite. Rob’s energy was through the roof, right along with his lust. Stomping out the beat, he faced her again, nearly stumbling over his words as he watched her dancing with her friends. “Girl, you know my weakness is red...maybe that’s a fact better left unsaid..” a wink in her direction, his fingers curling into a beckoning motion, the renewed screams that filled the air validated his surging ego. Rolling his hips as he sidled up to the microphone, his own screaming turned his features crimson. Bending double, he clapped out the final verse, a thousand people joining in as the song slowed to a stop.

Chest heaving, his heart filled with pure love and admiration as a sea of rainbow colored lights erupted from the darkness during the next two songs.

An hour later, the final strains of Medicated were punctuated by a sea of kazoos as they filled the ballroom. Wrapping his arms around Billy and Mike, the four of them took their final bows and filed off the stage. It took everything he had to not run to the green room. Once inside, he laughed with the others, joking about something that he couldn’t remember if you’d asked. A few minutes later, the metallic click of the door being pulled open had his eyes zeroing in on the newcomer.

Misha sauntered in, face buried in Twitter. A shuddering breath fell from his lips. Where was she?

*****

Sweat coated your forehead. The concert had been amazing, as always. Following a few of your friends, the group ducked out a side door - the chill breeze of the spring evening bringing a welcome relief to your fevered skin.

They began chatting animatedly about the concert and their favorites in the band. The songs that were selected. The way Rob had been working the crowd.

“He was pretty great, wasn’t he?” Grinning to yourself, you knew why he’d been so full of energy.

“I should probably get back. They usually have me help them put their gear away.” Maintaining your composure was difficult. You wanted nothing more than to share what had transpired earlier. Luckily, Rob chose that moment to text you, the screen illuminating the night surround you and your friends.

Holding the phone up, you grinned “speak of the devil…” “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” Confirming plans for the following day, you waved before unlocking the screen to check your messages.

Rob: “Where are you?”

Fingers moving across the keyboard, you typed out a quick reply, letting him know you were on your way.

[Y/F/N]: “ Coming.”

Less than ten seconds passed before his reply showed up:

Rob: “You will be.”

A chill ran through your limbs as you walked through the now abandoned corridor of the convention center. A few stragglers gathered in groups dotted the hallways, excited and high on the energy from the show. Smiling to yourself, a terrible thought crossed your mind. Maybe you should take your time. Draw out the anticipation more? Pretend like maybe you’d forgotten about earlier. Not that it was remotely possible. Still though...the idea had merit.

Taking the stairs two at a time, you crossed the stage and disappeared behind the curtain, your phone lighting the path in front of you.

“Hey [Y/F/N]!” Glancing up from the screen, you smiled at Briana as she approached from another direction. ‘ Oh, good, just the distraction I needed.’ Maybe that plan would work out better than you expected. You wondered how long you could make him fidget. Or if he would at all. Maybe he really had just wondered where you were so you could help with tear-down. Thoughts floating back to the second message he sent, that thought fizzled almost as soon as it appeared.

Focusing on your conversation with Bri, the two of you were laughing as you entered the green room. The band was mingling with some of the other guests. Misha was spread out on a sofa on a Face -Time call with Vicki, while Kim and Ruth were laughing over some private joke across the room.

A quick scan of the room found Rob talking with Billy and the others, arms crossed over his chest, a bubbling laugh shaking his frame.

A good hour passed, and as the others slowly filed from the room, you realized that you hadn’t spoken to Rob since the concert. As Briana hugged you goodnight, you turned to find that only Misha, Rob and you were still in the room - Chris following Bri through the door ahead of you.

Crossing the room to Rob, a tired smile on your face, you waited until Misha finished his sentence.

“Alright guys, I’m beat. See ya in the morning?” Nodding, you took turns hugging Misha goodnight. The latch had barely closed on the door behind him before Rob turned to you, “I thought they’d never leave.”

The inky pencil lining his eyes had smudged with the sweat, but your breath still caught in your throat when the man approached, backing you into the table lining the back of the sofa. “No more fucking distractions.” His breath was heavy, the words a low growl when he claimed your mouth once again. There was no softness this time, Rob’s lips were insistent immediately, his hands traveling over your body, memorizing every curve and surface.

Pulling away from the kiss, he fixed his lust-blown pupils on yours, “do you still wa--”, Wrapping one hand around his neck, you pulled him back down into the kiss. Eager, he returned the favor, his leather-clad wrists framing your body as you backed into the decorative furniture. Breaking away, you leaned against the wood, hopping up onto the surface. Twisting one hand into the fabric stretched across his chest, you pulled his body towards you, spreading your thighs so he could slot himself between them.

The tips of your fingers brushing along the hem of his shirt, you slid your hands over the warm skin of his hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles over the burning surface. Rob kissed over your lips to the side of your mouth, trailing down the juncture of where your neck met your collarbone. Setting his teeth into the skin there, he sealed his lips to your pulse point as his hands snaked their way beneath the fabric of your shirt. “Mmmmm...I love this on you..”

Fingers splaying over your ribs, one hand traveled to your back, making short work of the constricting material of your bra. Pulling it free, he tucked it into his back pocket and dove back under your shirt before you had time to protest. “Rob wha--aaaahh!?” Sucking in a sharp breath as Rob’s fingers closed over your left nipple, heat flooded your core when he dropped his mouth to take the place of his hand. Grabbing his belt to pull him as close to you as possible, you slid the heavy leather strap from its buckle, yanking open the button and zipper in quick succession. Flicking your [Y/E/C] eyes down to marvel at the sprinkling of hair running from his belly button to disappear beneath the band of his black boxer-briefs, you hesitated only a second before sliding your right hand over the hard length that strained against the soft material. Pulling him free from the layers of clothing tore his attention from his ministrations.

Sucking in a harsh breath of his own, Rob’s eyes flicked up to see the wicked gleam in your own. One hand remained where it was, the nimble fingers rolling and pinching the now pebbled flesh between them, a ragged gasp flew from your parted lips as the other dove beneath your own waistband - dancing over the cotton panties already damp with your desire.

“Fuck baby, little needy are we?” “That all for me?” The new confidence in his tone only made you want him more.

Pulling his head up from your breasts, your breath was heavy in his ear, “I need you to fuck me Benedict...now.”

With a growl, Rob wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you from your spot on the table long enough to yank the jeans from your hips. The denim now a forgotten heap on the floor at your feet, he pushed you back onto the table, not bothering with the thin panties you still wore. Pushing the material to one side, he wrapped his other hand around your right thigh and, taking a moment to align himself, sunk into you - pulling your body against him, even as he rolled his hips up into the first thrust. A collective gasp punctuated the space between your bodies as pleasure spread through you. Your skin burned with his touch, ragged panting the only sound possible aside from the primal noise of skin against skin.

Somewhere in the pleasure, it dawned on you that you were in a very public space. Someone could walk in at any moment. Although it was late, the risk was still there. Rather than the fear you expected, excitement coursed through your veins. Did you want someone to catch you?

Rob chose that moment to slide two fingers over your clit, the swollen bundle of nerves sensitive to touch. The heat that had been building over the course of the evening swelled to an inferno, crashing over you. All at once you were gone, fingers digging into the skin of his back as you came; his name on your lips. Capturing the string of expletives spilling from your lips with his own, Rob held you close, working you through your orgasm with sure strokes of his fingers. Your walls pulsed around him as he continued to move inside you, his thrusts becoming erratic with the change in your body. Folding your other leg up to rest over his shoulder altered the angle and he shuddered as it affected his movement and the depth at which he could thrust.

“Ohhhh..Oh fuck..” Pushing a hand against your chest until you fell back against the table, Rob moved his grip, both hands wrapping around your hips. Slamming his body into yours had the table groaning beneath you and, after several progressively harder thrusts, he too, fell over the edge, bending over your body as he came.

A fine sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies, Rob pulled himself free, helping you into a sitting position. Bending down to retrieve your pants, he helped you into them after securing his own. Lacing his fingers with yours as you stood, he leaned in for a soft kiss.

“Come by my room in ten?” Head tilting in curiosity, you regarded him, a silent question on your face. Chuckling under his breath, your chest tightened in anticipation as those beautiful blue eyes rolled up to meet yours. “Don’t think I’m finished with you yet [Y/F/N]..no, no...I’m just getting started.”

TAGS: @natasha-cole @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

#wildefiction #rob benedict x reader #louden swain #supernatural

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wildefiction · 5 years

Text

Insatiable

PAIRING: Rob x Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,521

SUMMARY: Reader is Rob’s assistant on the convention circuit, and over the years she’s gotten to know him better than anyone. When Rob forgets about an important part of his schedule, what’ll happen when [Y/F/N] has to quickly find a solution?

WARNINGS: Pining, Flirting, Heavy Petting, First Kiss, Public Sex, Rob in leather and eyeliner (yes, this is a warning!)