#wildefiction

[wildefiction]

Elysian

Pairing: Rob x Reader

Word Count: 1,723

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter Summary: Rob invites reader over to his place to continue their movie marathon, but something seems...off...with Rob.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, Slight class-ism (minor characters)

A/N: That writers block tho! Seriously, it’s good to be back. 

TWO

The following morning, as you pulled open the front doors of a very large, very sterile-looking office building set into the heart of downtown, you were glad you'd agreed to only one movie. Black, strappy heels clicked against reflective slate tiles beneath your feet; portfolios held securely beneath one arm.

"Right this way, Ms. [Y/F/N]." "Can I get you anything to drink?"

The receptionist was a bright, young intern. Bold, coppery hair fell nearly to his shoulders, his striking blue eyes lit with an eager kind of excitement as he showed you to the conference room.

"If you've got any tea, I'd love some." 

Smiling as the man nodded and bustled away, you took a moment to glance around your surroundings. As conference rooms went, it was fairly ordinary - a long, glass-topped table was set in the middle of the space, surrounded by about twenty leather office chairs. One wall was constructed entirely of crystal clear glass, though the only view was more of the same tall, lifeless buildings. 

Turning as the door shushed open behind you, a woman approached, a grand smile on her face; one hand extended in your direction.

"Ms. [Y/F/N], it's so good to finally meet you. My husband and I have heard good things."

The woman's grip was firm, confident, and immediately you got the inclination she was going to be the one you'd need to impress.

The man from earlier had returned, a selection of teas, creams and sugar arrayed on a dark serving tray.

"Thank you Dylan, that will be all." 

Glancing to the woman whose hand you still held after smiling in appreciation at Dylan, you wondered if this woman was as dismissive with everyone else as she appeared to be with him. His own smile faltered, quickly replaced with a wary expression of disinterest as he turned and left the two of you alone.

The next two hours were spent presenting your work to the owners of Caliber Entertainment. 

By the time you'd been shown to the door by Dylan, you were exhausted. While confident in your abilities and your work, your struggle had always been selling yourself.

Regardless, you were happy to be out of there. While meetings like those were a necessary evil, you really wanted nothing more than to go home, take off these damned heels and relax.

Pulling your phone from the pocket of your blazer, you typed in the lock-screen password and found several messages waiting.

[Rob]: Hey, finished at the studio a little early today. How was your meeting?

[Rob]: Thought I might stop by the store, pick up a couple steaks...you hungry?

The rumbling of your stomach as you read the words was answer enough.

Noticing the last text had come through only a few minutes prior, you hurried to type out a response.

[Y/F/N]: Starving. I didn't know you could cook.

Almost immediately, the device in your hand chirped with an answer.

Rob: One of many things, I'm sure. Movie at my place tonight? Should be home in twenty.

Trying to remember if you'd ever actually been inside his house, it took only a moment to realize you hadn't.

Sending off a message to let him know you'd bring the beer before dropping the phone on the passenger seat of your car, you couldn't help but be excited at the prospect of spending another evening with Rob.

Pulling into your driveway a short time later, you were surprised to see him sitting on the front porch. The ridiculous grin that spread across your face was hard to hide, so you decided not to bother.

"Well look at you, all dressed up...heels and everything eh?" His teasing tone matched the mirth in his expression.

"Don't get used to it." The phrase was clipped, but accompanied by your smile, still firmly in place.

Reaching out to grip his arm while you kicked off the footwear, the blazer quickly joined the abandoned semblance of professionalism. 

Crouching to pick up both items, you proceeded through the front door, calling out an invitation for Rob to follow. 

"Let me just change real fast, no way am I doing movie night in jeans."

Nodding, Rob headed for the kitchen "I'll grab the beer."

Disappearing down the hallway to your room, the closet stretching along the north wall held more clothes than you knew what to do with. Unfastening the buttons of the dark-washed denim clinging to your thighs, you reached a steadying hand out to balance against the dresser as you peeled them from your body, abandoning them in the wicker hamper set in a corner.

"Hey, [Y/F/N] - have you got any pepper? I think I'm out."

Nodding to yourself, you quickly realized that he couldn't hear you. Grabbing a pair of cutoffs, you turned, stepping into the bottoms and pulling them up as Rob paused in your doorway.

Peeling the flowy chiffon fabric of your business shirt off over your head, you answered his question without missing a beat; completely unfazed at your state of undress.

"Yeah, I think so - one sec." 

Pulling open the second drawer of your dresser and selecting a solid-white tank top, you pulled it over your head while heading for the door.

Walking past the man into the hallway with the shirt still covering your head, you missed the flustered look on his face.

Closing his eyes, the back of his head fell against the doorjamb. The initial attraction he'd felt towards his neighbor had started to blossom a few months prior, but he'd never said anything to her about it. He liked the way things were between them, but her obvious nonchalance for being half-naked around him was going to change that.

Pushing a breath between his pursed lips, he stepped away from the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face as he joined [Y/F/N] back in the kitchen.

"Here's that pepper you needed." "Ready to go?"

Dropping the pepper mill into his outstretched hand, you made for the front door, flipping light switches as you went.

Following you from the house, Rob pulled the door shut behind him, watching with a small smile as you skipped barefoot down the sidewalk.

The sun-kissed warmth of his deck seeped into the bottom of your feet; the smell of the grill wrapping you in the savory flavors of summer.

Twisting the caps off of two amber bottles pulled from the cooler, you handed one across to Rob. Closing the lid on a large stainless steel grill, the man turned, accepting the drink with gratitude.

"So, how was your day?" Flopping down on one of the adirondak chairs situated around the wrought-iron grate of his fire pit, Rob turned his eyes up to yours, the light blue-grey hue fixed in place. Raising the bottle to his lips, he took a long swallow, awaiting your answer.

"As good as can be expected I suppose. I despise having to suck up to rich assholes though." 

After a pause, you laughed. 

"No offense." Tilting your bottle towards him in apology, the lopsided grin on your face made him chuckle. 

"None taken." "Hey, how do you like your steak?"

Rob stood from his seat, wandering over to check the grill.

"Medium rare, please." 

Shielding your eyes from the late-afternoon sun, you peered out across the expanse of chillingly still water, ripples of light dancing across the surface of his pool.

"So...do you ever actually use your pool or is it just for sheer decorative purposes?"

"Oh, uh, well..no real point when you live alone right? Sometimes I swim laps I guess." 

Shrugging nonchalantly, Rob turned back to the grill, transferring the food onto a serving platter.

"Can I help with anything?" Placing a hand against his back, you peered over one shoulder. 

"That looks amazing, I could eat a goat right now."

Rob chuckled again. Pointing towards his kitchen, the tongs still in one hand, he shook his head.

"Could you grab the salad please?"

Over dinner, which was even better than it had smelled, the conversation revolved around work and the increasingly fleeting amount of free time both of you found yourselves with.

It took you longer than you cared to admit to notice towards the end of the meal that Rob was acting a bit strangely. Pushing what was left of his food around the edges of the plate and offering little in the way of conversation or eye-contact when he did speak, the sudden shift in his behavior concerned you.

When he began to stutter and it took visible effort for him to form complete sentences, you reached across the table, tentatively covering his hand with your own. The touch startled him enough that you nearly pulled back. 

"Hey man, you okay?"

While the question remained friendly and open-ended, the idea that he might not want to share what he was thinking only occurred to you after the fact. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” The smile he offered was anything but convincing; wilting quickly, it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. Rather than push the issue however, you reflected that same uneasy smile, drawing your hand back and rubbing the suddenly clammy skin against your bare thigh. 

"Ready for movie number two?" Standing suddenly, Rob reached forward, grabbing your empty plate before hurrying inside.

A seed of doubt wedged itself in your chest, tendrils of unease taking root when your brain began to throw every possible scenario around as to why his behavior had so suddenly changed.

Slow to follow, by the time you'd walked back through the patio doors and crossed the house, Rob was kneeling in front of the entertainment center, elbow deep in Lily's toy box, muttering under his breath about something.

In one fluid movement, he stood, clutching the remote he'd apparently been searching for in one hand.

Perching on the edge of the sofa, eyes shifting between Rob and the screen in front of you, the worry that flitted around your consciousness continuing to grow. Where earlier in the afternoon, he’d been all smiles and carefree laughter - his rigid posture and the awkward silence blanketing the room in a thick fog allowed only one valid conclusion to form in your mind: Rob was angry, and somehow, somewhere - you’d messed up.

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

[hornsbeforehalos]

Forever, Sweetheart: Part 2

Pairing: Rob Benedict x OFC, past Norman Reedus x OFC

Warning: Smut, Language, RPF, mentions of violence and sexual assault, mentions of miscarriage, recreational drug use (weed), drinking, Rated E for EXPLICT A/N: TRIGGER WARNING: Mingus and Ky talk about the baby in this chapter. If you have triggers regarding subjects such as infant loss, please be cautious. 

As per usual I mean no harm or offense to anyone referenced or mentioned. this is a work of FICTION and no all your favorite people will be your favorite people in this. They’re characters.

Please do not read this if you are under the age of 18. Please do not copy or steal this and put it somewhere else. I will find you.

I do not own anything related to Supernatural or The Walking Dead or any other shows mentioned in this work of fiction. I am not affiliated with AMC or CW in any way.

MASTERLIST

Tags: @coffee-obsessed-writer @sandlee44 @wildefiction @sorenmarie87 @through-thesilver-lining @runekisses @pink1031 @zelda2248 @kazzieglove @journeyrose @his-paradox @docharleythegeekqueen @beffyblueeyes  Please let me know if you want to be added to the list!

My eyes drifted open the next morning as my senses kicked in, the strong scent of coffee wafting through the small hotel room. I could hear Rob in the shower, the sound of him singing while washing himself coming from the bathroom and making me smile.

I let out a groan as my body stretched itself out, the stiffness in my shoulders making me roll my neck back and forth for a moment before I climbed out of bed. Walking past the mirror on the wall, I let out another groan, this time as I observed the giant rat’s nest that resided itself on my head from falling asleep with it wet.

Lovely way to start out the morning.

I heard the shower shut off and the curtain be pulled back as I sifted through my clothes for the weekend while sipping on the cup of coffee Robbie had set out for me, selecting a Gishwhes t-shirt from the pile as well as a pair of shorts. I was pulling my pajamas off as I heard Rob open the bathroom door, my butt bent over in his direction as I stepped into my denim shorts.  

A low whistle sounded as he pressed his denim-covered groin against my ass as I straightened myself, earning him a giggle from me as his fingers dug themselves into my waist when I turned around in his arms.

“Don’t even say a thing,” I grunted as I watched his eyes widen as he took in the state of my hair, “Not a God damned thing, Benedict.”

Rob chuckled but made the gesture of zipping his mouth, patting my butt before shaking his head as he released me to select a shirt for himself. I made my way into the bathroom after getting the rest of my clothes on, sighing deeply as I stared at the heap on my head.

It took twenty minutes and Rob’s help to get the shit to cooperate, and I was grateful when I was finally able to get it tied into braided pig-tails. I was just done pressing the false last eyelash to my lid when the Richard’s unmistakable rap sounded at the door.

I exited the bathroom as Rob pulled the door ajar to let Rich inside, the poor man already looking flustered.

“Kay, Mish is looking for you. He’s on the war path already.” Rich warned, raking his hand through his hair as he turned to Rob, “Me and you gotta skedaddle, buddy, Daniella is having issues with the sound check guy.”

“Jesus, okay,” Rob sighed, shaking his head again as he pulled a flannel over shirt on. He walked over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug before kissing me, “I guess duty calls, my love. I’ll come find you later?”

I nodded before giving him another kiss, waving to Rich as I watched them leave.

It took about thirty seconds before my phone’s ringtone blared. I slide the answer button across Misha’s face, putting it on speaker as I pulled on my converse.

“Whaaaat? I’m on my way, damn. Let me get my fuckin’ shoes on.”

“Hurry your ass, woman! Did you know Marvel people are here too?” Misha asked excitedly. I could tell he had already made his way downstairs to the green room from the noises in the background, Bri’s unmistakable laughter sounding through the phone, “Sebastian fucking Stan even!”

Giggling, I strapped my laptop bag around my shoulder and grabbed my phone, taking it off speaker and pressing it to my ear as I made sure I had everything, “You’re such a nerd. I’m on my way.”

Misha hung up the phone without a good bye, and I placed it in my back pocket as I headed down to the convention.

The majority of the day had been hectic yet uneventful, and it was easy to slip back into the routine of convention life. As I had expected, I didn’t get to see Rob for most of the day, save for a couple of seconds here and there in between dragging Misha from one area of the hotel to another. I had hoped to at least be able to have a moment to go to his panel with Rich and Matt, but Misha wanted me to make sure the Random Acts information desk had everything they needed. I was talking to one of the past Gish contestants when Mingus approached with a couple of his friends.

“Hey Ming!” I beamed at him after the girl left, rounding the corner of the table I was behind to wrap my arms around him, “Glad you could come.”

“This shit is so cool, Ky,” He smiled, folding his lanky limbs across my shoulders as I pulled away to look up at him, “I’ve never been able to actually walk around one of these types of conventions before.”

“It has his moments of being cool,” I chuckled, turning to see two the two guys that came with him staring at me. They both looked familiar, and I remembered seeing them from the time when Ming had stayed with me.

“You guys remember my step mom, Ky, right?” Ming introduced with a wide grin.

Rolling my eyes, I smacked him in the chest with the back of my hand, “I’m like 7 years older than you, dude, don’t call me that.”

“Whatever,” He chuckled, “This is Matt and Kyle. You got time to go with us to get some food?”

I pulled my phone out and checked the time, noting that Rob’s panel was going to be ending soon and he’d texted that he wanted to meet in the green room afterwards.

“I can’t really leave, but ya’ll can come to the back with me if you want, they’ve got hella food piled up back there for everyone.” I replied, placing my phone back in my pocket, “Jensen and Jared should be headed there soon, too.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Mingus nodded, watching as I gathered all my things before following me.

I pushed the door to the green room open so the four of us could enter, my eyes instantly finding Robbie perched on the side of the couch with my brother’s guitar, strumming the chords as Jensen hummed. He looked up to me as he felt my approach, his grin faltering slightly as he saw Mingus behind me.

“Mingus! Dude! What’s up?” Jensen said joyfully as he stood up to hug the kid, Jared following suit before moving so everyone could sit down.

I turned to face Rob as Mingus spoke with the others, not missing the glint in his eye as I slotted myself between his legs in front of the guitar. His eyes moved back to the instrument, and he thumbed a few chords before returning his attention to me.

“How was the panel?” I asked sweetly, running my fingers through the thick curls on top of his head. Rob stopped playing and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the scratch of my fingertips against his scalp.

“Mmmm, it was okay. Couple people asked about you.” He answered, his eyes opening and shifting up to look at me as I stopped my ministrations.

“Anything interesting?” I wondered out loud, watching as Jared and Jensen lead Ming and his friends over to the food table. I pulled the guitar from Rob’s grasp as I sat on the couch beside him, my fingers finding the frets effortlessly.

“Nah, just asking if you were going to start doing conventions again, how you were doing, stuff like that.” Rob replied, a smile on his face as he looked down at me playing, “If you were gonna sing with me tomorrow.”

I looked up at him knowingly, my lips pursed together in a straight line as I rolled my eyes at him and sighed through my nose, “Maybeeee.”

“Maybe means yes.” Rob snorted, his grin splitting his face into a  full blown smile, “What song are we gonna do?”

Shrugging, I looked down at the strings of the guitar, “I don’t know, probably just one ya’ll always do or something.”

“I’ll figure out the details and let you know, ‘kay?” He promised, his hand curling around my shoulders as he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. Glancing at his watch, he stood up, “I gotta get back out there, but I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Kay,” I replied, looking up at him as he leaned down again to kiss my lips, his hand cradling my head and stroking my cheek, “Love you, Rob.”

“Love you too, babe.” he replied before waving to the others, Jared and Mingus rejoining me with his friends as Rob and Rich left the room.

“Mingus said he could join us for dinner after karaoke,” Jared announced as him and Jensen squished themselves onto the couch next to me, tossing a wrapped sandwich my way, “We’re going to that one place we went last year.”

“Cool,” I smiled, letting Jensen take the guitar from me as I unwrapped the sandwich, my stomach growling loudly, “I’m glad you get to hang out, dude.”

“I’ve got the photo shoot tomorrow and I’ll be busy for the rest of the weekend, so I wanna see you as much as I can. We never get to hang out anymore.” Mingus stated, a sad tone to his voice as he took a sip of his drink, “I miss my super awesome cool step mom.”

“Stop calling me that!” I groaned, rolling my head back and huffing as everyone chuckled, “I’m not your step mom!”

“Anymore!” Ming contested before taking a bite of food, playful grin on his face.

“Not never!” I huffed, tossing a piece of lettuce at him, “So weird, dude.”

“I wish my step mom was as cool as you,” Kyle snorted from beside his friend, “Mine’s a cunt.”

“She’s not as cool as you think, kid,” Jensen chimed in, his hands instantly rising up to defend him against a flying piece of food.

Everyone laughed, and I shook my head at Mingus, “Doesn’t he have a new girlfriend or something anyway?”

“Eh. I mean not really I guess. I’ve seen him hang out with that chick Keagan a few times, and he was dating this one chick for a while, but I don’t know what happened to her.”

Nodding my head, the mention of Keagan’s name brought a flood of memories to the forefront of my mind. She’d been my friend, but had let Jeffrey manipulate her into being the reason for Norman and I’s separation. I had no ill will towards her, though, I was extremely over Norman and extremely happy with Rob, but I still wondered from time to time if things would have been different with the baby if she hadn’t done what she did.

Sensing the change in mood, Mingus pulled the subject away from his father, “We need to hang out when we get back to the states. I’m going to be spending the summer in LA with Matt.”

“I’m down dude, I just work all the time so you gotta let me know.”

“I’m sure we will get it all figured out,” Mingus grinned as the door to the room opened, Misha entering, looking rather stressed.

“Kylin! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” He urged, throwing his hands up into the air, “You gotta come to autos with me.”

“Uhhh, why?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him and tilting my head curiously, “There’s no reason for me to be there.”

“Because I said so,” Misha stated, his own eyebrow lifting itself, “Now come on.”

Sighing as I wrapped the uneaten portion of my sandwich back up, I turned to Mingus and the guys, “Sorry, my boss is a dick.”

Chuckling, Ming responded,” It’s fine, we gotta go meet my dad anyway for something with Ride, I’ll text you later for the dinner details.”

After telling them bye and showing them the quickest way to get to the exit, I followed Misha down a different hallway towards the autograph room.

“You know I wanted you to come with me so I could spend some time with you, right? You’ve been so busy, I’ve barely seen you.” Misha complained as he threw his arm around my shoulders.

“You’re the one that asked me for the help, dude,” I rasped as I wrapped my arm around his waist, “Runnin’ me ragged.”

“I know, I’m despicable” Misha chuckled, squeezing me close for a moment before releasing me as we neared the area, “I’ll give you a raise.”

“Ha. I doubt it.” I snorted, rolling my eyes and jabbing him in the gut with my finer as he held the door open for me.

I took my seat behind him as he got situated, pulling out my phone to scroll through social media while we waited for the fans to be allowed through. I had been tagged in numerous things on twitter and Instagram, and I ignored most of them as I usually did until one from Mingus caught my eye. He’d taken a selfie with him and his friends and Jared, with the caption ‘Supernatural in Rome, thanks step-mom!’ Followed by a winking emoji.

Stop fucking calling me that! I typed back in a comment quickly, adding a few laughing emojis myself as the room started to fill up. I pocketed my phone again and stood up, moving beside Misha to help the handlers take the tickets.

“Um, Kylin? Would you mind signing this too?” A woman asked shyly, about fifteen minutes into the session.

“Um, sure, I guess. What’s your name?” I replied, startled.

“Megan.”

I gave her a smile and signed the board she’d placed in front of us before handing the metallic marker back to her, “Here you go, Megan.”

“Thank you so much. It really means a lot. I’m sorry about what happened to you.” Megan smiled sadly at me, her eyes kind and gentle, “I lost a pregnancy myself not too long ago. I don’t know your whole story, but it was devastating for me.”

I could feel the crack in my chest try to reopen again as I gave her a small smile back, looking down at my hands before over at Misha, who wrapped his arm around me and kissed the crown of my head.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry for your loss as well. I don’t know where I’d be without my family.” I replied, my voice low in attempt to conceal the emotions threatening to bubble over. The girl got her hug from Misha and moved on, not realizing she’d broached a tender subject.

“You okay?” Misha asked as he watched me sit back down in the chair behind him, my arms crossing over my chest protectively.

“Yeah, I should’ve been expecting someone to talk about it.” I exhaled deeply, “I think I’m gonna go get a cigarette, okay?”

“Sounds good, after I’m done here I’ll meet you upstairs to figure out dinner plans before you leave for karaoke, yeah? I might just go with Ruth and Briana, Jensen and I are arguing today.”

“Just let me know, I’ll kick him in the nuts for you” I snorted, grabbing my purse and double checking I had everything I needed, “Grab my bag when you leave, please.”

“Got ya.” Misha replied with a wink, throwing a thumbs up in my direction as another fan approached and demanded his attention.

I found the side exit quickly, happy to be able to finally get some nicotine into my system. I exhaled the strong smoke as I scrolled through my phone again, trying to forget about the woman’s words. I jumped as the door I’d just came out of opened, but smiled upon seeing Rob crook his head around it, like he’d been looking for me.

“There you are,” He smirked, verifying my suspicions as he let the door close behind him. “You okay? Misha texted me that a fan had upset you.”

Letting one side of my mouth fall, I shrugged, “Not really, just threw me off guard I guess. I should have been expecting it though. It’s why I haven’t been coming to conventions.”

“I’m sure seeing Mingus doesn’t help either, huh?” Rob asked, leaning up against the wall next to me as I took another drag.

Shrugging again, I exhaled, “I mean he doesn’t really bother me, besides with the stupid step mom shit, but I don’t know. This woman decided it would be a good time to share her story with me, and... like I said, I don’t know.”

"I get it,” Rob nodded, reaching over to grasp my free hand, “I’ve had fans do that stupid shit too.”

He leaned his head over and onto my shoulder, chuckling as he said, “That step-mom stuff is definitely pretty weird.”

“Right?” I snorted, a smile breaking across my face that turned into a full blown laugh, “Kid is out of there, man. I’m so glad Calvin and Audrey aren’t like that.”

“That’s because they hate me.” Rob replied, the tone in his voice instantly shifting as he pushed himself off the wall to stand directly in front of me, our hands still entwined.

“They don’t hate you, Rob,” I argued, looking at him before taking another hit from the cigarette, exhaling quickly, “They’re going through a lot right now.”

“Feels like they hate me,” He mumbled, looking down at his feet and kicking at an imaginary rock, “They barely ever call me anymore.”

The kids had taken the divorce a lot worse than Rob had expected them to. Worse then I think they even expected to. They always knew the divorce was eminent, but their mom had them moved all the way to San Diego before the papers were even filed, making them leave behind everything they’d ever known. In their anger they blamed Rob, his inability to work things out with Mollie uprooting and destroying their whole lives.

“Hey,” I said, tugging on his arm to get his attention and make him look at me,  “They’ll come around, alright? Give it some time.”

He smiled weakly, pulling me to him to kiss my lips. I pulled away for a second to flick the butt of the cigarette into the parking lot before turning back to him and pressing my mouth against his.

Curling both my hands around Rob’s neck, I parted my lips to taste his tongue with mine, a soft encouraging noise coming from his throat as he tightened his grip on me. We kissed for a few moments, my skin growing heated under his touch as I moaned into his mouth before he pushed me back into the wall, the brick biting into the back of my thighs as he ground himself into me.

Panting when he finally pulled away, he rasped, “I love you, Sweetheart.”

“I love you too, babe.” I replied, small smile playing on my lips as I gazed up at him lovingly. “Forever.”

“Forever, Sweetheart.” He grinned before kissing me again.

After karaoke, Rob and I met up with the boys and Mingus, his friends having something else planned for that evening. Jensen and Misha were still arguing apparently, something Jensen ‘didn’t wanna talk about’, so he’d gone with Ruth and Bri and the rest of the band. 

We got a ride to the quiet restaurant the boys had been to the year before, the lighting low and music soft as we sat in the back corner and conversed between ourselves. Mingus was taking full advantage of the nonexistent drinking age, knocking back shots in between beers at a pace that would rival even his father’s.

“Mingus, you need some water or something?” Jared asked, concern lacing his voice as the boy finally started to sway back and forth.

“I’mmm...okay.” Mingus sighed, leaning his temple against my shoulder as he sat next to me.

“You sure?” I whispered, tilting my head to peer down at him. There was a sad look on his face, and I brushed a piece of his hair off of his forehead as his eyes met mine for a moment. There was definitely an emptiness there, and my heart broke for him. Poor kid was probably still in the grieving process himself.

“Mind if I bum a cigarette from you?” He asked lowly, up-righting himself on the seat, “I think I need some air.”

“Yeah, I’ll come with you.” I replied gently, giving him a small smile as I watched him stand up. He steadied himself by gripping the table, a goofy grin on his face suddenly as the alcohol started moving through his body again.

Shaking my head with a small chuckle, I turned to Robbie on the other side of me and excused myself, kissing him on the cheek and reassuring him I’d be okay. I looped my arm into Mingus’ elbow, my own slight intoxication making me lightheaded. We exited the building and turned down the narrow alleyway beside it, finding the small private smoking area dimmly lit by a street lamp down the way. Leaning against the cool brick, I passed Mingus a cigarette from my pack before placing my own between my lips and lighting it.

“You alright?” I drawled cautiously, my eyes scanning him as he looked down at his feet.

He stayed silent for a few moments, his eyes never leaving the ground before a silent tear rolled down his cheek, barely visible in the lighting.

“Hey, sweetie, you’re okay,” I instantly soothed, reaching my hand out for his and pulling him to me. His long limbs encased my shoulders, a muffled sob retching through him as he pushed his face into my hair.

“Shhhh, Ming, it’s alright,” I cooed, rubbing his back with my free hand as I flicked the accumulated ashes with the other, “Come on, let’s sit.”

I pulled away from him and tugged him towards a nearby bench, making him sit beside me as I helped him wipe his tears away while his breathing slowed.

“Sorry, Ky,” Mingus rasped, his voice still cracking with emotion, “It’s just…this year has sucked so fuckin’ much for me.”

Nodding my head as I exhaled smoke from the drag I’d finally taken, I placed my hand in his, “I know, babe. It’s been hard for everyone.”

“I have dreams about him, you know? Nax. I see him.” He mumbled, his words slightly slurred.

“I do too. Except I won’t ever know for sure if it’s really him I see.” I replied, my own voice shaking as I fought back the tears that were threatening to spring forth.

“What do you mean?” Ming asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Dad didn’t show you a picture?”

Shaking my head, I brought the cigarette to my lips for the last time before tossing it, “He never talked to me after the day I woke up. There were no pictures taken of him that I know of.”

“What a dick, are you fuckin’ serious?” Mingus cursed, swaying to the side slightly as he shifted to pull his phone out. Before unlocking the screen, he looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine, “Do you want to see?”

Nervousness pin pricked throughout my bloodstream, stinging my skin as my stomach dropped. I couldn’t stop the moisture from rolling down my cheeks, a sob gasping from me as I nodded my head.

It had been over a year, and I never once had seen a picture of my son.

Exhaling sharply, Ming sniffled before wiping his nose. He unlocked the phone and scrolled for a second. Finding what he was looking for brought a small smile to his face, his watery eyes looking up at me before asking, “You sure?”

Nodding again, I held my breathe, closing my eyes for a second while he turned the phone around. When I opened them again, I was peering into the most beautiful blue eyes of the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.

My chest cracked open as a sob wracked through me again, but it was accompanied by a smile spreading across my lips as I took the phone from him. Lucian’s perfect face was was right there, looking up at me. I noted the nasal tube that curled around his cheek, the only thing besides his obvious size that made him appear any form of weak. My shaking fingertips drifted over the screen, tracing the lines of his little nose and lips. I felt strong arms wrap themselves around me from behind, the scent of my brother encasing me instantly. I’d been too absorbed in staring at my son that I hadn’t even heard him and the others approach.

“He was beautiful, sissy,” Jensen croaked, eyelids blinking back tears as I turned around to look up at him, “Just like you.”

Sniffling as I attempted to compose myself, I handed the phone back to Mingus, prying my eyes away from the little thing on the screen.

“Thank you, Ming. Can you please send it to me?” I sniffled, exhaling the tension from me as foot steps could be heard approaching.

I turned my head to see Norman’s silhouette, the looming figure unmistakable.

“You alright, kiddo?” He rasped, his voice husky as he took in the sullen expressions on our faces.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Mingus snapped, pulling hisself unsteadily to his feet.

“I sent him a text when ya’ll hadn’t come inside for a bit. Figured you needed a ride,” Jared spoke, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“I’m fine.” Mingus spat, glaring at his father, “I’m so fucking pissed at you, dude.”

“What the hell did I do?” Norman questioned, confusion twisting his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Dad, huh? You were so wrapped up in your own asshole that you couldn’t even let her have a fuckin’ picture of her child!?” The boy’s towering figure stepped into Normans personal space, his chest puffed out in fury, “Not only did you fucking blame her, you couldn’t even give her closure for that? And you never fucking told me?”

Mingus shoved his father back, Norman stumbling before catching himself before he could fall. Jared instantly shot his hand out to Mingus’ chest as the boy attempted to advance again, rage flicking in Mingus’ pupils and encasing his irises.

“Enough, Ming,” I begged, my hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling as Jared and Jensen placed a barrier between the son and the father. I could see Rob helping Norman to his feet over their shoulders, hushed words with a sharp tone being spoken between the two.

“Fuck you, Dad, seriously. I hate you!” Mingus continued, fighting against the bodies surrounding him, “I fucking hate you.”

“Ming, you don’t mean that.” I argued, continuing to tug on his arm until he looked at me, “Come on, I’ll get you back to your mom’s hotel.”

I turned to lead him towards the parking lot, when I heard Norman’s voice call out to me.

“Just know I’m sorry, Whiskey.”

[natasha-cole]

Focus

WORD COUNT: 2,438

CHAPTER SUMMARY: The party proves to be too much for Chris to handle. Rob continues to let his affections for Reader show, and Reader is already struggling with her own internal dilemma. Kim and Briana help to ease her mind a bit, at least until she realizes that she has to talk to the guys about what she is considering doing.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: innocent kisses, jealous Chris, very mild angst

A/N: Part 11 of my series written with @wildefiction

                                              ELEVEN

————————————————————————————————

Chris saw the way Rob leaned into her. The way he placed that soft kiss to her face, and the way she looked at him when she realized it was him. She had reserved that specific look for Rob only and the thought of it made Chris far more jealous than he would ever care to admit to being.

He side-eyed the two of them, fully aware that Rob had definitely piqued Y/N’s interest and he began to berate himself over the fact that he couldn’t even verbalize to her what she meant to him.

He thought the kiss from earlier would say it all, and she seemed to be into it at least. But, she was less than thrilled the way he failed to just come out and say what was on his mind. He was fucking things up with her when it should be easy.

Now, she had Rob wooing her and, interestingly enough, he was really good at it. Rob had a way of playing up his adorable awkwardness and managed to constantly have women hypnotized by his charms. It was just who he was. He only wished that Rob hadn’t turned on his charm with Y/N.

This was the first time that Chris felt threatened by his friend. He hated the feeling of jealousy and the need that he felt to challenge Rob in this game. But, he had decided that he wasn’t giving up on Y/N. He had pined over her for far too long and although his friend was definitely interested too, he wouldn’t back down.

The worst part of it all was that he felt that Rob knew that what he was doing. Chris tried to tell himself that Rob was oblivious to the situation, but he wondered if Rob was fully aware of his interest in Y/N and just didn’t care. Hell, he had been the one to invite her here and make a point of letting Rob know that he wasn’t Y/N’s type. The fact that Rob hadn’t backed down immediately made Chris believe that Rob was most certainly challenging him.

He watched the two of them for a moment; as Rob moved around from behind the couch and staked his claim right next to her. He casually draped his arm around her shoulders, leaning in so that he could rest his other hand atop her leg.

They seemed to get caught up in a conversation, but Chris was more focused on the way Rob touched her and the way she reciprocated his advances. She couldn’t stop smiling as they spoke.

Chris huffed to himself, downed the last of his drink, and decided that he needed to step away for the rest of the night. He couldn’t just outright say what he wanted to say to her, not now anyway. And the last thing he wanted to do was hang out and watch her make googly eyes at his friend.

As he quietly made his way to the exit, hoping that no one would even notice he was leaving, he gave them one more quick glance.

He definitely needed to step up his game. By no means had Y/N rejected him, but she was unimpressed with the way he chose to make his feelings known. He just needed to figure out how to get Rob to back off so that he could have a proper chance at being with her.

If nothing else, he at least hoped that their kiss still played on her mind, even as she talked to Rob.

***

Reader’s POV

You were too caught up in your conversation with Rob to even notice Chris for the rest of the night. You didn’t notice the way he kept his eyes on you and you didn’t notice when he left. The only thing you were noticing now was Rob and the way you felt when you were with him. There was something about him… that charming personality, the awkward yet confident way he showed his interest in you. His deep blue, attentive eyes and infectious smile didn’t hurt either.

You hardly knew the man, but you definitely wanted to get to know him more.

The two of you chatted for some time, you eagerly leaning into his touch throughout the conversation, him smiling as you did so.

It was nice to spend time with Rob this way. While you and Chris always had something to talk about because you shared so many of the same interests, it was different with Rob. With Chris, conversation just came naturally as you already knew each other fairly well. But you and Rob, the two of you were actually getting to know each other, and that sort of excited you.

While you were internally wrestling with the dilemma you seemed to be caught up in, you had failed to realize that there were people on the outside of the situation who were just as aware as you were.

You had excused yourself from the conversation with Rob to quickly head to the restroom to freshen up, not expecting it when Kim and Briana hurried in after you and closed the door.

“Uh, what are you doing?” You asked in surprise, unsure of what this was.

“What are you doing?” Kim asked. She raised a brow at you, almost accusingly.

“I was going to use the restroom, but I didn’t expect an audience.”

“You know what she means…” Briana argued.

“I’m not doing anything,” you mumbled as you turned your attention to your bag instead.

You pulled out a tube of lipstick and began to apply it, pretending that you didn’t know what they were on about.

“Well, I’d say that sneaking off with Chris earlier and then getting cozy with Rob in a crowded room is… doing something.”

“What are you accusing me of?” You sighed.

You put the lipstick back once you were done and turned back to face the girls, now waiting for them to tell you exactly what you had been thinking.

This entire back and forth situation between you and Chris, and you and Rob was weird. You felt sort of bad about the way things were happening, but you also couldn't bring yourself to tell either of them to back off. You liked Chris, even if it was annoying that he wouldn’t just say something to let you know for sure that he saw you as more than just a friend. And you also really liked Rob, who was at least taking the initiative to let it be known that he was interested.

They were both attractive and sweet and you felt that you could easily connect with both of them; but even you knew that whatever was going on with each of them could get awkward. Apparently, it already had as Kim and Briana brought it up.

“Nothing,” Briana replied. “We’re just curious about what the deal is here. At first, I really thought you might have a thing for Chris… but then I saw you with Rob...”

“It’s… complicated,” you sighed.

“Which is why I’m interested in hearing all about it,” she said, a sly grin pulling up on her lips as if she was intrigued by your dilemma.

“Can I be completely honest about something? Possibly without being judged?”

“Please do,” Kim replied.

“I’ve known Chris for years and he’s amazing. He’s always been good to me, and yeah, maybe at one point in time, I might have had a little crush on him.”

“Really?” Kim grinned in response, perking up as you finally spilled the juicy details.

“I didn’t realize that he might be interested in me until recently. The other night, we had what I thought was a work dinner that turned out to be a date. He kissed me that night and then just walked away. Didn’t say anything, didn’t actually tell me that he liked me… then he did the same thing tonight.”

“Huh.”

“Then there’s Rob…” you sighed, smiling as you thought about how good you felt just to be around him. “He’s…”

“Adorable, we know,” Briana chuckled.

“Yeah, and he’s nice, he’s talented, he’s funny, and he actually talks to me. He actually asked me out and we had an amazing time. He didn’t kiss me and walk away… I actually had to make the first move.”

“Wait, so you’re making out with both of them this weekend?” Briana asked gleefully. “And going on dates with both of them?”

“Okay, to be fair, all the Chris stuff is weird and he’s the one kissing me. Not that I’m against it.”

“We’re not judging,” Kim promised. “We’re just- interested.”

“The thing is, maybe this is terrible of me, but I kinda like the attention I’m getting from both of them. Chris is frustrating beyond words and I wish he would just tell me he likes me… and Rob is not at all what I expected…”

“I get it,” Briana chuckled. “It’s nice to get attention from two attractive men.”

“I like both of them,” you admitted. “Honestly, I’m not really sure of what to do. They’re friends, so I sort of feel bad that one is kissing me one minute and then I’m making out with the other right after. It probably wouldn’t be so complicated if they weren’t friends.”

The two ladies stayed quiet for a moment, giving each other knowing looks before Briana turned back to face you.

“So… then just date them both for a while to see which one you click with best,” she said simply.

“Really? Is that a good idea?” You didn’t expect to hear this from her. You half expected for the two of them to berate you and tell you that you were an awful person for the way things were going as it was.

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with dating around to find out what it is that you’re looking for. You’ve got two great guys interested, and it’s okay to get to know each of them better before you decide which, if either, of them you actually want to be with.”

“I think the fact that I technically work with both of them, and the fact that they’re friends, complicates things.”

“Well, dating is complicated,” she argued. “Maybe consider being open with both of them though. Tell them about the other, tell them you like both of them and want to see where each relationship could go.”

“I should date both of them at the same time?” You asked, attempting to make it clear that it was their idea and that you should definitely go along with it.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with doing that,” Kim added. “But they should really know about each other and your intentions. If they’re not comfortable with that, then one will back out anyway, so maybe your decision won’t be too hard.”

“I have to admit,” you began softly, “I have been thinking about how to handle all of this and I thought trying to date them both would be a bad idea…”

“It’s only a bad idea if you hide it from them,” Briana said.

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting this type of girl talk tonight,” you chuckled. “I expected the two of you were following me in here to yell at me about all of this.”

“Nah,” Kim laughed. “We’re just nosey and intrigued by your situation. We’ve all noticed the way Rob and Chris are with you. They’re whipped. We’ve also noticed that you’re a certain way with each of them as well.”

“I’m that obvious?”

“But, they each seem to get a different Y/N,” she answered. “Either way, we can tell you like them both and you owe it to yourself to explore your options.”

“I can’t believe I’m even considering dating both of them… I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, you gotta get each of them on board first before you have to stress about it. Also, don’t hurt either of them. They’re equally great guys who we love.”

“I don’t know, if they’re both really that interested in me, won’t one of them get hurt in the end?”

“Such is love,” Briana sighed. “Just- don’t purposely hurt them. That’s all we ask.”

“Well, I guess they’re not the only ones who could get hurt in all of this,” you reminded her.

Something told you that, if they agreed to date you at the same time, there was a better chance at things ending poorly for you more than anyone else. Still, you had been caught in an internal struggle about what to do the moment you kissed Rob after your date. You enjoyed that moment immensely, but you also found yourself thinking about the way Chris kissed you the night before. Both men made you feel something, and this seemed to be the only way to find out which one of them could have potential.

You were grateful to have the girls on your side with the idea of dating both of them, even if you were sure it was because they were more interested in the drama of it all. But, you figured you would at least have them to turn to when you undoubtedly ran into issues if you started down this uncharted territory of dating two men at once.

The real problem now was that you didn’t know how you would have this conversation with Chris and Rob yet. You couldn’t believe that you had decided on doing this in the first place. You had never dated more than one person at a time, but this was a special circumstance. You really did like both of them, and at this point, you couldn’t decide which one of them you wanted to give all of your time and attention to. You wanted to try to see where each of the relationships could go.

It eased your mind to know that at least the girls understood your dilemma and they fully supported you in whatever you chose to do.

You decided here and now that dating them both was the only way you would ever be able to pick one of them. You decided that it was time to tell them that you already had been sort of seeing them both since you first showed up here at this convention. Hopefully, they would both understand and be on board with the idea.

Now, the only thing you had to worry about was how much Rob and Chris were going to freak out when you told them that you wanted to try openly dating each of them for a while.

***

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

[wings-of-a-raven]

 It’s been over a year since Kylin’s life drastically changed, for the better and worse. One thing that always remained constant though, was Robbie. When both of their pasts come back to try to haunt them, the strength of their love for each other will be tested, but there’s one thing that’s always been certain for both of them - they were for forever.  I went to post it on Tumblr, and it was immediately flagged. So here it is on AO3 until the @staff can get their act together tags: @coffee-obsessed-writer @sandlee44 @wildefiction @sorenmarie87 @through-thesilver-lining @runekisses @pink1031 @zelda2248 @kazzieglove @journeyrose

[atc74]

WIP Tag Game

Post the last sentence in a current WIP and tag as many people as there are words. I was tagged by @wildefiction and @evansrogerskitten. Thanks ladies! 

You were born naked just like the rest of us, so get over it!”

I have already played this week, but with about 13 WIPs, I have some material to work with. This is from a new one-shot, filling my Arranged Marriage square for Kink bingo, called Oil & Water. 

Not tagging anyone this time around. 

[wildefiction]

Elysian

Pairing: Rob x Reader

Word Count: 1,587

Series Summary: Reader moves to LA to pursue her dreams and finds a best friend in her new neighbor.

Chapter Warnings: Heart-break, Drinking

ONE

"I..I can't do this anymore Rob." 

The heavy sigh on the other end of the line was laced with exhaustion, but not the type that would be fixed with a restful night. This was the type of exhaustion that resulted from one too many missed dinners and far too little time spent actually being with each other.

Distracted as he was, the man stilled, ice pouring through his body, the chill of her words ran deep.

"Wh-what do you m-mean?" "Jenna?!"

Rob's grip on his cellphone tightened, his fingers dappled in white, as if he could hold on to the woman he loved simply by force.

"Goodbye, Rob."

-Bee-doo-

The silence deafening as he pulled the device from his ear, Rob's expression of shock quickly shifted to horror and then dismay as he realized what had just happened.

An hour had passed by the time he ran up the stairs to his front door, hastily shoving the key into the lock after dropping them twice. Pushing the front door open, the harsh sound of the wood bouncing off the wall echoed through the entry. He barely noticed. Striding through the house, he stopped short upon reaching the dining room.

Four tapered candles sat in crystal holders, the tip of each wick frayed and singed with obsidian. Perfect white plates resting atop ruby chargers, matching linen napkins were artfully arranged with the good silver.

In the center of the table, a half bottle of wine sat open, the cork abandoned next to the single wine glass; one drink remaining at the bottom.

Approaching the table, Rob reached out, fingers trembling as he picked up a single sheet of paper, his name scrawled on the front in her looping penmanship. 

Opening the note, only two words met his blurred vision:

'I'm sorry'

Frantic, he turned the paper over, hoping for something more. In his haste, he'd neglected to notice the brass key that had dropped from it. Picking it up, he recognized it as the one he'd given her to his house a few months prior.

Having landed next to a medium-sized box, Rob's focus slid to the bright blue paper, a black satin bow tied to the top. 

For the second time that evening, a sense of dread overcame the man. With shaking hands, he dropped the paper and picked up the gift. 

Pulling on one end of the ribbon, the satin fell from the box as Rob worked to remove the paper.

A sleek black frame surrounded the scroll of paper the cardiologist had printed for him that illustrated his heart-rate. Months of hard work and speech therapy had paid off, and, during his last check-up, the doctor had declared he was healthy, no longer needing regular visits to track his recovery.

A second sheet of paper had been included with the gift, this one just a small note:

'Later we'll put that ticker to the test ;)'

'Xoxo'

The tears fell then, staining his cheeks as he realized that this time, there was no amount of pleading that would get her to forgive him.

He'd forgotten their anniversary.

****

"Dude. You didn't…" 

[Y/F/N] was seated on the couch with her feet folded beneath her, a beer held in one hand while she stared at her friend.

Scoffing, Rob lifted his own bottle to his lips, taking a long swallow of the IPA.

"Yeah, I uh, guess I'm good at fuckin' shit up."

"Hey man, we've all been screw-ups at least once in our lives." 

With a gentle squeeze of his denim-covered knee, you rose from the couch, watching as he averted his eyes, nervous fingers picking at the black label encircling his drink. 

"Want another one?" 

Not bothering to look up, the man nodded, a faint smile on his lips. 

Walking into the kitchen, you thought back to the day you'd been relaxing on your deck with a new novel, glancing up to see the woman storming out of the house next door, a distraught Rob trailing after her. You remembered how he watched, helpless, as she had climbed into her rather expensive white Bentley and driven away without so much as a glance in the rearview mirror.

That had been just shy of two years ago, and while the two of you had always been friendly, until recently, conversations had consisted solely of talk about the weather and your respective careers. 

After a particularly shitty day about six months prior, you'd invited him over for a beer and now get-togethers like these had become increasingly more common. 

Pulling your air-popper from the pantry, you emptied what remained of a Costco-sized container of popcorn kernels into the machine. Hitting the power, you moved to the refrigerator, pulling a stick of butter from the door as the steady hum of the motor whirred behind you.

Rob loved popcorn. It always made him smile, and although his heart had been broken so long ago, sometimes you felt like it had been just yesterday.

Bending down to retrieve a large ceramic bowl from beneath the counter, your thoughts turned protective when you remembered the pain that had been etched into his features that day. 

Of course, you knew how Rob could be. How musicians and actors.. and...how artists could be when it came to their work. It's why, as much as you felt for the man, you weren't surprised when he'd finished recounting the full events of how she'd walked out of his life. 

You weren't surprised because you'd had that exact thing happen to you.

Dumping the excessive amount of popcorn into the red and white striped bowl, you drizzled the butter you'd melted over the heaping pile and finished the snack by sprinkling coarse sea salt and sugar into the mix. 

Turning and flipping off the light, you pulled open the door to the fridge, grabbing two bottles from the top shelf, the bright light casting a soft glow over the counters behind you. Using a hip to close the door and wrapping your free arm around the hefty bowl of popcorn, you sauntered back into the living room, taking a moment to snatch a few pieces with your mouth from the top of the pile.

"Here, brought you a snack." 

*****

Rob glanced up as [Y/F/N] re-entered the room juggling a sizable bowl of popcorn and the second beer she'd offered. He smiled to himself at her gesture; she was always looking out for him. Although he was more apt to keep to himself, he realized then that he'd grown to really enjoy her company.

"You know me too well [Y/F/N.]" 

Chuckling, his eyes lit up at the sight when she flopped next to him on the couch, depositing the bowl into his lap before turning and grabbing the remote. Settling in, she slumped back against the plush cushions before lifting her feet to rest on the table. Clicking the power button, [Y/F/N] navigated through the Netflix menu in search of something to watch.

"Hmm, Lord of the Rings marathon or Harry Potter marathon?"

The question was so nonchalantly asked, that you were surprised when Rob laughed.

"If you want me to come over more often, you just hafta say so." 

Nudging your shoulder with his, you blushed against the darkness, thankful he couldn't see you, but internally embarrassed at having him call you out so immediately.

Still, he answered, as if he really didn't mind spending his Friday nights on your couch.

"I've seen all the Tolkein movies, and I can't wait for the next one. Let's do Harry Potter, everyone keeps asking me what house I'm in and it'd be nice to have an actual answer next time instead of just bs-ing my way through the question."

With his mouth full of popcorn, you'd only been able to make out every fourth word or so, but regardless, you started the first movie, the tell-tale notes of Hedwig's theme filling the space around you.

Two hours passed in a blur of questions and enraptured silence alike, Rob taking great joy in the discovery of how much he enjoyed the start of the saga. 

"Wanna watch one more?" 

Raising his brows, the man turned to you, his eyes shifting between your face and the remote you'd picked up off the arm of the couch.

Glancing at the time on the bottom corner of the screen, you noted that it was almost midnight. 

The confliction in your expression was obvious. You were having a great time, but this was a huge gig. One you'd been trying to land for months. They'd finally taken the plunge just last week. Yet for some reason, your mind warred with you, the details trying to lock themselves in place while you mentally juggled the options. 

"It's okay if you don't want to, we can always do a different day. Not like I'm going anywhere."

His soft smile had you nodding. That really was the more logical, adult thing to do. With an annoyed groan, you stood from the couch. 

Rob followed suit, stretching his arms overhead as he yawned. Your eyes flicked to the small strip of exposed flesh between his t-shirt and jeans, lingering a little longer than was probably necessary. 

Leaning against the door as you held it open for him, you were already looking forward to the following afternoon as he descended the steps of your porch, spinning around to wave once more before crossing the street to his own house.

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

[wildefiction]

Of Course...Mr. Collins

Word Count: 1,654

Chapter Summary: Reader helps Misha and his family prepare for the holidays.

Chapter Warnings: None. Maybe brief anxiety

TWENTY-EIGHT

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of trashy mid-day television, several short naps and more trips to the bathroom than you cared to count; the ceramic floor cool beneath your fevered skin.

By the end of the weekend, your symptoms had all but completely subsided, a mild headache the only reminder of how miserable you’d been over the last few days. Buried in the warmth of your deep blue fur-lined parka, the bite of the early morning chill went un-noticed as you walked hand-in-hand with Misha to his car.

So lost in your own mind, you barely noticed when he pulled into the driveway – the smooth electric engine so quiet that Misha removing his seat-belt was the first thing you noticed.

The entire day Saturday, while you’d been confined to bed, the multitude of tweets and other notifications you’d been tagged in were impossible to miss and since then, the tiny seed of doubt that lived in your chest had begun to flourish. As a fan yourself, seeing through the mean comments to the worry and concern beneath the awful words wasn’t difficult. Misha was adored by people around the world, news spread like wildfire on the internet and often innocent actions were blown out of proportion by those who were either genuinely concerned or who just liked to stir up trouble. The pictures surfacing from San Francisco seemed to be some mix of both.

“You okay?” Misha’s fingers, laced through your own, tightened while those impossibly multi-dimensional eyes stared down at you, worry etched into the creases of his expression.

The pain evident in his features was like a vice around your chest, and, as pinpricks of moisture gathered at the corners of your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to erase that hurt, whatever it took.

“Of course! Mish, don’t look at me like that – I’m okay, I promise. Just thinking about this weekend is all.”  A soft smile of encouragement replaced your own concern as you leaned up on your tip-toes and wrapped your arms around his waist. Pressing lips lightly to his cheek before burying your face in his chest, the warmth of his body mingled with the calming scent of his cologne and immediately you could feel the tension start to dissipate – just like it always did.

The moment of quiet was short-lived as the front door was pulled open and both Maison and West came spilling down the steps, Vicki chasing after them with their jackets, which neither child appeared to care for.

“Daddy!” “[Y/F/N]!” Four arms wove themselves through both your and Misha’s legs, the children’s exuberance nearly knocking you off balance.

Looking up from the tangle of limbs, you smiled warmly at Vicki. The woman had lowered herself to the steps of the porch. Leaning against one of the thick stone columns, she held a camera in one hand and a tired expression on her face. Gently prying Maison’s left arm from its spot still around your thigh, you approached the front steps, leaning over to hug Vicki as well. This kind of welcome home was still a foreign concept for you, but slowly you were beginning to enjoy the feelings associated with being around Misha and his family.

*****

Over the course of the subsequent days, preparations for the holidays started to become the focus of your daily schedule.  

The weekend after returning from California found you crouched in the attic of Misha’s house, sorting through bins filled with lights, wreaths and shiny baubles. Misha’s voice echoed up through the opening across the room, letting you know he was ready for another load. Vicki pointed to a shallow box on your left, indicating that was the next to go. The three of you had managed to work out an assembly-line of sorts and soon the three of you were all gathered in the living room, the decorations neatly stacked atop the sideboard flanking the fireplace. The very same one that had held your contract all those months ago. While it often felt like you’d never been without Misha, you were suddenly reminded that it had been a mere few months since he and his family had welcomed you into their lives and into their home.

“We seem to be missing something…” Misha tilted his head and stared at the blank space stretching before the large bay windows.

“I just…can’t put my finger on it.” Tapping his bottom lip, his clear sapphire eyes turned to Maison and West. “What do you guys think, are we missing something?”

“Daaaaaa-deee, we need a kwis-mas twee.” Maison stared up at her father, a bright smile spreading across her face as she laughed at his question. Putting all of her weight into the effort, the little girl planted her hands at the small of his back, trying her hardest to push him towards the front door.

Coming up behind her husband, Vicki planted a knit sock-monkey hat atop Misha’s head, the bright blue and cream features of GISH’s mascot sliding down over his eyes. Shrugging into a black parka, Misha laughed at his wife’s antics; West stomping around the entryway in his oversized snow boots, the zipper of his own jacket jingling with each step.

For just a moment, you stood there – watching the dynamics of this family play out before you. They were so very typical, almost down to the white picket-fence. And yet, at the same time they were all so incredibly different in the best way possible.

Three hours later, snow danced around your feet as gusts of wind disturbed the pristine, glittering powder. After searching for what seemed like hours for the best tree, West had stumbled upon a giant he deemed ‘the one.’ It was breath-taking really, the boughs heavy with emerald needles; two rich, deep mahogany pine-cones still clinging to one branch.  The boy, buried to his knees in the drifts surrounding the magnificent fir, was beaming with pride as Misha knelt to assess how best to bring the ten-foot tree home.

*****

Flames licked at the edges of the logs piled neatly in the living-room fireplace; the warmth of it filling the room with comfort as you hung four stockings from the mantle. Across the room, Maison and West sat at a small table, shaking crumpled paper sacks with unimaginable glee. When asked what they should do with the pine-cones they’d removed from the tree, the kids had decided they wanted to make bird feeders (so the small birds wouldn’t go hungry in the cold winter weather.) Watching as they each opened their bag, both children were very excited to see that spreading seed on a peanut-butter covered pine-cone yielded new treats for the sparrows who hadn’t flown south.

“[Y/F/N]! Look at what we made!” A trail of multicolored seeds following in his wake, West lifted his prize up to where you could see it better, blowing a few long strands of sandy hair away from his eyes.

“Ooh, those are great, I bet the birds will really appreciate you looking out for them by making this treat. Why don’t we go outside and hang them up?”

Faces glued to the large living-room windows, both children were seated, legs crossed, with mugs of hot cocoa on the thick bench seat overlooking the front yard. Several small birds flitted between the safety of the eaves and the veritable buffet hanging before them.

Vicki and Misha were positioned on either side of the great tree, taking turns stringing lights through the branches; boxes of ornaments scattered at their feet. Jason’s Christmas album playing on low in the background added to the memorable day, and as you gathered the links of garland made from popcorn and cranberries, you realized just how excited you were for the holidays - something that had been missing in you for more years than you cared to count.

The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way, and, by early evening the house looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. Rather than being kitschy and overdone however, it felt homey and welcoming. With thoughts of the holidays however, also came thoughts of gift-giving. The simple bliss you’d felt much of the day started to ebb away, replacing itself with anxiety – what could you possibly give Misha and Vicki that they didn’t already possess? In the short time you’d spent with this family, it had become quite clear that they were both incredibly talented, giving and creative people. Somehow a new blender just didn’t fit the situation. Nor did you feel like you could just walk into the nearby mall and miraculously find the perfect thing. The more you thought about it, the stronger and more intense your worry became. Idea after idea would drift through your mind, only to be stricken from consideration almost immediately. So consumed were you with the problem; eyes staring blankly into the flames dancing in the hearth, that only after being called several times did you realize you were being spoken to.

“What’re you thinking about?” Lowering himself to the plush carpet, Misha turned, a lopsided grin spreading across his stubble-blanketed features. Scooching to sit behind you, the arms he loosely draped around your waist tightened until your back was pressed hard to his chest, breath warm against your ear.

“Well, I was thinking about what I should - …. you know? It doesn’t matter, because now I’m thinking about something very different. Twisting to face him, your lips hovered a breath from his – eyes locked.

“I should go help with dinner, and I do have to go home tonight – so this little game you’re playing… definitely isn’t going to work. Good try…Mr. Collins.”

With a quick press of your lips to his cheek, you rose from the floor, sauntering off in search of Vicki and the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen.

TAGS: @jamielea81​ @wings-of-a-raven​

[wildefiction]

Hunger: One

PAIRING: Jared x Reader

WORD COUNT: 4,558

CHAPTER(S): 1/?

SUMMARY: When reader isn't attending a Supernatural Convention, she's preparing for the next one. Staying busy is the only thing that keeps her sane. While it's difficult for some people to understand her motives, one person will show her that he knows exactly what she's going through. Will Jared be able to make the reader believe she deserves to be loved or is she too far gone already?

SERIES WARNINGS: While this first chapter has little in the way of warnings, future chapters may contain content difficult for some readers. Each chapter will be tagged appropriately but may contain topics such as: Mental health, severe depression, trust-issues, and abnormal psychology along with eventual forms of healing and discussions centered around relationships and support systems. Please heed the warnings for each individual chapter.

A/N: This is the first chapter of what I’m guessing will be a fairly long series. Originally I was going to try to tie this up in a neat little one-shot, but it’s just not going to happen. This was completed for @saxxxology‘s Plus Size Reader Challenge

“It’s called Alexithymia.” “Yeah, I don’t know - I’m just glad I’m not actually a sociopath.” “What? No I--fuck!” “Fuck these fucking pants!” The sleek metal phone slipped from its precarious position against your shoulder and fell to the floor with an ominous clatter. Closing your eyes in frustration, you filled your lungs with several deep breaths - in through your nose, out through your mouth. 

In-out, in...out. 

Rolling sideways from the mattress onto the floor and reaching a cautious hand towards the new device, you prayed to whatever God would listen that the screen was still intact. Opening one eye a fraction of an inch, a deep sigh of relief flooded your body as the smooth, black screen flashed once; the tinny voice echoing from the speakers prattling on as if nothing had gone awry. 

Standing from the walnut floorboards, you turned to face the floor length mirror. While it had taken almost a decade, the wide, curving hips reflected in the glass had become the favorite part of your body. Only problem was, finding jeans that fit well was nearly impossible. “I need new pants.” Whining into the receiver, the woman on the other end of the phone simply snorted in amusement. 

“Well if you’d spend more than twenty-dollars on your clothes, you’d have a helluva lot easier time finding ones that you liked.” “I’ve offered to take you shopping how many times?” Your best friend had a point. Focusing again on the phone call, you relented - one outfit couldn’t possibly cost that much, could it?

Two hours later, your arms rested atop a cool wooden counter; a scowl painted across your features while numbly holding out a metallic blue credit card. The woman behind the desk smiled brightly, faltering a bit when she had to wrestle the card from your grasp. Walking from the store with what felt like an entirely too-small-bag-for-the-amount-of-money-you-spent outfit, you joked about what else you could’ve done with that money. 

Shaking her head in exasperation, your friend tried again to argue her point. “These clothes will last you a long time - the photo ops you so voluntarily throw your money at last all of - what? Ten seconds?!” Pushing one hand through the hair covering your eyes, you tried again to explain why you paid large sums of money for those ten-second interactions. Violet’s expression let you know that she still didn’t understand. Funny thing was, she’d been the one to introduce you to Supernatural in the first place. “Well this weekend you’ll be at the boys’ beck and call, so I think you spending the money here is worth it. Don’t they give you a free photo op for working anyhow? While far from glamorous, you’d been thrilled when the company hosting the event had accepted you as a volunteer. Rolling your eyes, you assured her (and, okay, yourself) that you likely wouldn’t even see any of the cast. Only seasoned help got to be handlers. 

The rest of the week flew by, and Thursday afternoon found you trying (unsuccessfully) to clear the sting of sweat from your eyes while simultaneously carrying an arm full of poles and light posts. They’d put you on stage duty for the first day. Afterwards, you were pretty sure if you ever saw another velvet-backed chair again, it would be too soon. Two-thousand of them sat in neat rows filling the main theater room. “Alright [Y/F/N], could you please take these and label the seats?” Suddenly conscious of the slight tick in your right eye, you nodded silently - sliding the heavy rolls of numbered stickers over your wrists before walking to the end of the front row to begin your new assignment. 

You don’t recall falling into bed Thursday night. The melodic voices of Rob and the boys from Louden Swain cut through your dreamless sleep far too early Friday morning. “Is it cool if I come over…” 

Excitement warred with irritability while dressing in the new jeans you'd purchased the day before. The dark denim clung to your hips, the waistband taut once the button was fastened. “Woah! What. Is. This?!” Turning to the left and then the right, your mouth fell open in a soft “oh” - there was no gap! You'd never been able to find pants that fit both your hips and waist simultaneously. It was a miracle. Still - you weren't about to complain. Pulling the basic black volunteer tank top over your head, you slipped on the trusty pair of Chucks that had followed you to every convention over the last decade. Some people cherished a hat or a cozy flannel, for you - these shoes filled that spot.

“WHAT!?!” “What do you mean she’s not here today? How..what am I supposed to do?!” You’d been about to duck behind the heavy black drapes dressing the stage to report for your morning assignments when a familiar voice made you stop short. Derek, a fifty-something event planner was pacing just the other side of the divide, his simple brown loafers kicking up small torrents of dust with his agitation. Startled as the man threw open the curtains and stomped across the stage, you decided it was probably a better bet to find someone else to talk to about how you could help for the day. Turning, you were nearly through the opening and had started to descend the rickety metal staircase leading to the volunteer break-room when a heavy hand landed on your shoulder. 

“ ‘Scuse me. You’re working here...yes?” Unexpected tension lanced through your body at the sudden contact and some part of you froze. As if he could feel it, Derek removed his hand rather quickly, absentmindedly shoving his ring-adorned fingers into the pocket of his slacks; the other hand busily scrolling through his phone; artificial light illuminating his tired, pale blue eyes. In your silent contemplation of the man, you’d failed to answer his question. “Ms…[Y/L/N] - right?” “Have you been assigned yet today?” With a slow shake of your head, his hand shot out of his pocket as he threw an arm around your shoulders - laughing heartily at something you’d missed. The mans face was jovial, faint creases of forehead wrinkles and crows’ feet framing his watery irises allowed you focus on what he was saying, rather than the pressure of his proximity. 

“You’re savin’ mah bacon Miss [Y/L/N] - I tell ya what.” 

The shrill screaming of his phone was sudden and briefly you felt bad for Derek. Raising the device to his ear, his body language calmed significantly; assuring the person on the other end that he’d found a replacement. A replacement for who, you still didn't know. Not that it was really any of your business. Nodding once, Derek turned back to you, sliding the small device into the clip on his belt. 

Fishing into the pinstriped fabric of his pocket, he pulled a cluster of keys out. “Okay, take my car to this address” -- procuring a pen from his jacket, the man scribbled some notes onto a slip of paper; the handwriting sharp and messy -- “Have you got a phone?” Tentatively reaching into your back pocket, you slipped the oversized Samsung into your fingers. “Good! When you get there, call this number..” --more scribbling-- and bring everyone here.” “Let me know when you’re back.” Glancing at the unfamiliar handwriting, you squinted, trying to make out the address. 

“Ms. [Y/L/N]..?” The impatient snapping of his fingers focused your attention on the man before you. “Please hurry - lots to do...lots to do!” With that he turned on his heel and hurried back through the curtained wall.

Although it was still well before noon, the parking lot held hundreds of vehicles, including two beautifully restored impalas. Sunlight glinted across the deep onyx paint as you walked by. The only clue to what car you searched for was a familiar gold emblem embossed on the black key fob clutched in your hands. Anxiety prickled along the base of your neck. You should've asked where Derek had parked. As your mind filled with every possible worse-case scenario, continually jamming your thumb to the unlock button prevailed when a flash of golden light several cars down caught your eye.

The engine roared to life with the press of the ignition, the lumbering bear of a Tahoe easing from it's reserved parking space as you wondered why anyone needed this large of a vehicle. Twenty minutes later, the truck settled into a quiet hum in front of a downtown hotel. Derek hadn't bothered to write a name on the paper he’d hastily scribbled upon, and you really had no idea who you were supposed to be collecting. 

Craning your neck to see through the windshield, the immense hotel tower rose impossibly high before you; the steady ticking of scarlett hazard lights keeping time with the ringing as you waited for someone to answer.

The tall, revolving glass door caught your attention, several people clambering into the contraption at once made you smile; a generic voicemail message kicking on after the fourth ring. The group spilled from the door in a mess of laughter and a tangle of bodies. 

Why you felt the need to duck behind the steering wheel upon recognizing them, you'll never know. 

Rob, Rich, Briana, Kim and Billy were still laughing amongst themselves. Inside, you were happy the windows were tinted, as you were fairly certain you sat there with your mouth hanging open while you watched the group of friends wander over to talk to a street performer. Eyes darting to the clock on the dash, you quickly realized it'd been nearly an hour since Derek had sent you on this assignment. 

Without looking away from the group, you tried the number again. The phone clicked and a cheerful voice answered with a giggly hello. Immediately you refocused on the task at hand, “Uh, hi. I think I'm supposed to be picking you up?” The mean bitch in your head snickered at how uncool you sounded. 

“Scuse me, what was that?” A blush crept across your cheeks when you realized who you were talking to. Looking from your lap to the window, Rob stood halfway between his group of friends and where you were. Twisting and looking back over his shoulder, he must’ve put two and two together because he waved before beckoning the others to follow. 

You weren’t prepared for this - you’d volunteered with the direct understanding that behind-the-scenes was where volunteers stayed. Occasionally one would bring the cast bottles of water or coffee, but picking them up at their hotel? Didn’t they have drivers for that? Your thoughts were cut short as three doors opened almost simultaneously and bodies began to climb in around you. 

That had been the start to a whirlwind weekend. The Creation staff kept you on your toes constantly, although somehow Derek continued assigning tasks more cast-centered than had been expected. It started with picking up the Friday guests, sure - but since then you’d done everything from coffee runs to walking the ladies’ to the bathroom and photo-op room, to helping with the sound check for the concert currently taking place on stage. 

Now in the green room, crouched in front of the mini-fridge, your mind wandered while removing water bottles from their thick plastic casing, stocking the shelves for the guests. 

A faint beeping and the murmur of voices caught your attention as the door opened across from you. Osric, Clif, Jensen and Jared sauntered in, lost in their own conversation. A familiar prickling sensation that often assaulted you in new situations made your shoulders tense. Luckily, the repeated exposure to the guests this weekend had given you plenty of practice to collect your emotions quickly; stuffing them into the deepest recesses of your mind. 

A few breaths later, you stood from the position on the floor, a large smile plastered across your features as you approached the small group. 

“Hey guys, anyone need a drink?” Osric smiled widely and accepted one of the chilled bottles. The others followed suit, Jared’s eyebrows furrowing slightly in concern as his fingers closed over yours. 

“Hey, thanks…” “What’s your name?” Your eyes darted between his brilliant hazel irises and the long fingers wrapped around the drink; beads of condensation wetting your skin as his hand rested on yours. 

Hurriedly pulling away, you scrubbed a palm against the denim of your jeans before extending it and introducing yourself. 

“Hey, I’m [Y/F/N].” The others said their hellos as well, your gaze shifting between them while they chatted animatedly for a few moments. Occupied as you were, you failed to notice that Jared didn’t take his eyes off of you for even a moment. 

She was nervous. Not that he wasn’t used to the look. But this one was different, Jared decided. He recognized the determination to hide her anxiety as something he’d gone through as well. He could see she was excited to meet them, and yet, she held back; likely protecting a small part of who she really was as she presented the version of herself she wanted everyone to see. While genuinely happy to interact with all of his fans, Jared felt intrigued by [Y/F/N]. He wanted to know more about her. About the discomfort she tried her best to disguise as nerves. Something was off. 

Crossing her arms over her chest while making small talk with the others, Jared noticed how proficient she was at distributing her attention to each of them equally, pausing for only a moment before looking to the next person. 

Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Jared turned his attention to the door, having opened for a second time; watching as Rich strode in, beckoning to Jensen. 

“C’mon man, your public awaits.” He bowed dramatically, waffling his hand in the space before him. Jensen huffed, shaking his head as he clasped Rich’s shoulder, following him from the room. [Y/F/N] trailed along behind them and Jared allowed himself to take a longer look at the woman. The tank top she wore clung to her body, the curve of her full breasts and thick waist led his eyes to her hips. 

“Damn.” 

The word of admiration was muttered under his breath, but as he focused on her face again, the pink in her cheeks made it clear she’d heard him. 

“You coming Jared?” She’d stopped, holding the door open for him. Nodding, he quickened his stride and disappeared into the darkened hallway as he headed for the holding area backstage.

If Saturday had been busy, Sunday was borderline chaotic. 

Attendance surged for the final day of the convention. Awake earlier, you were due to report in by 6:30 even though the first panel wasn’t due to begin until noon.

Shuffling through the abandoned corridors of the hotel, you could only hope there’d be caffeine waiting at the check-in station. 

“Good morning Ms. [Y/L/N].” Blinking several times in rapid succession, you focused on Derek as he sat behind the assignment table. The quiet murmur of his voice as he looked over the sheaf of papers laid out before him only partially registered in your mind. 

The concert the night before had been amazing, and you’d been up until the early hours of the morning from the level of energy you’d absorbed. It didn’t help that a certain phrase kept replaying in your mind. You’d definitely heard Jared last night and you liked to imagine he’d been talking about you. The thought brought a smile to your face, regardless of how absurd the notion was. While pretty sure he likely had some gorgeous girlfriend waiting for him back home, you were content with the small amount of time you did get to spend around Jared. Silent pining was more your style anyhow. 

“...order.” “Ms. [Y/L/N]?” Snapping out of your daydream, you worked harder to listen to the man in front of you. 

“I’m sorry...what was that?” The middle-aged man smiled kindly. 

“I know it’s early Ms. [Y/L/N], but we really need you to be completely present at these briefings. Otherwise, the chaos about to descend on this place will be ten-times worse.” Shifting oversized reading glasses from where they’d fallen down the bridge of his nose, the man cleared his throat, consulting the Sunday schedule. Finished with his admonishment, Derek held a slip of paper out to you. 

“As I was saying, please grab the coffee order for the cast. It’ll be ready precisely at 9:50. That should give you enough time to get back upstairs so everyone can get their daily dose of caffeine.” “Until then, make sure the green room has plenty of breakfast items and if the cast need anything, it’s on you to make them happy.” 

Derek’s last sentence drew your attention from the list you’d been perusing. Outwardly, you nodded so he’d know you were paying attention, even though you still struggled with the personal Hell that came with sleep deprivation.

Later that morning, as you stood in line at the bustling Starbucks just outside the hotel, your mind once again turned to thoughts of the cast. Although you were tired, you wouldn’t change these experiences for the world. 

As silly as it seemed, these conventions had gone a long way to helping prevent you from falling into your depression. In-between event weekends you often busied yourself with planning the next one and it got you through each day. It was refreshing to see mental health being addressed more by the media. When you’d been diagnosed several years prior, only your doctor had believed it was a real thing. 

Walking up to the waist-high counter and pulling the folded paper from your back pocket, you began to list the order scribbled upon it. At one point, squinting your eyes in an attempt to read Derek’s handwriting you gave up and handed the barista the list, hoping she’d be able to help discern it. 

“Maybe I can help?” Clutching the paper, you raised your eyes to the woman in front of you. She stilled as a hand reached over your shoulder and gently took the list from your grasp. Breathing deep, you turned to find Jared standing behind you, long strands of auburn hair falling across his face while he perused the handwriting. 

Shifting to stand next to Jared’s tall frame, you took a moment to point at the line you were having trouble with. His body was like a heater, the intoxicating scent of his cologne made all the more apparent by the warmth of his skin. 

Jared brought the paper closer to his face, squinting at a particular cluster of letters. 

“I..think that says...skinny?” Glancing at the rest of the scribbled letters, he was able to make out the order for a non-fat soy latte. “Huh, I didn’t know Mark was here today.” Shrugging, his eyes flicked up to yours; an easy smile replacing the serious expression he’d worn moments before. “Did you get everything okay?” Nodding, the young woman behind the register added up the total while you handed her your credit card. 

Moving to the end of the counter to await the several drinks, you turned to the man behind you. “My hero.” The smirk on your face was genuine, even if your tone erred on the side of sarcasm. 

“Hey, no problem [Y/F/N].” God, the way he said your name… Clearing your throat as you settled against the far wall, you did your best to continue the conversation.  

“Why are you up so early?” “Figured you’d be sleeping while you could.” Jared shrugged his massive shoulders before answering.

 “Went for a run. Couldn’t sleep.” You wanted to ask why. You wanted to ask a lot of things, but instead you kept to yourself. He likely had his reasons, and you’d be willing to bet - if he was anything like you, that he wasn’t keen on sharing the details of his life with a relative stranger. Nodding in understanding, you turned back to the counter, gathering the three drink trays and rearranging the cups so each carrier held the same size. Stacking the grandes atop the venti order, you slid the coffees into one hand, grabbing the third tray with your free arm. 

“I can carry one if you want..” Jared was at your side again, talking to you as if he wasn’t a gorgeous, successful actor with his own security detail. Speaking of which, where was Clif? 

“Uh, nah..I’m okay.” Scoffing, the man saw right through your feeble attempt to decline. Removing the top tray from where it rested under your chin and taking the second one as well, he simply smiled. “Lead the way [Y/F/N].” 

There was something about her that occupied Jared’s thoughts. She was strong, sure of herself (or so it seemed) and gracious. He wanted to know more. “So, [Y/F/N] where are you from?” 

The chill bite of a fall day in the Pacific Northwest swirled around your body when the two of you stepped from the relatively warm coffee shop. Breath fogging in the early morning air, the small-talk you made with Jared as you crossed the street to the hotel gave you a small look inside the finer points of Austin, his hobbies and the show. Back in the green room, you passed out drinks to their respective owners, everyone murmuring their appreciation to you for your efforts. Pulling the phone from your back pocket and realizing it was nearly time for the Sunday morning gold panel, you ushered Jared and Jensen out the door as politely as you could. 

Grabbing two mics from the table set-up behind the stage curtains, you handed one to each of the boys and turned to leave. Jared’s hand on your shoulder made you freeze momentarily, more out of habit than anything. Apparently it didn’t matter who it was, the discomfort of being touched still prevailed.

“Thanks for the chat [Y/F/N], we’ll talk more later?” Searching his face for any hint of what was going through his mind, you nodded numbly. A wide smile spread across his face as he squeezed your shoulder before turning and taking the stairs two at a time. Wild cheers assaulted your ears as the gold members screamed for their first panel of the day. 

The voices of Rob and Rich joking with Jensen buzzed in Jared’s ear, but his thoughts were still on [Y/F/N]. She’d flinched when he had touched her shoulder. Whatever made her react that way, he hoped it was something she’d be willing to talk to him about. For the hundreds of people who thanked him on a daily basis for noticing their struggles and standing in solidarity with them, he knew there were many others who couldn’t bring themselves to share.

Before you realized it, the afternoon autograph sessions were scheduled to start. Walking through the main theater hall, your most recent task was simple enough: Provide each of the guests with a handful of colorful sharpies at their table. The headphones connected to the phone in your pocket piped Swain music into your ears and you danced happily while completing the mundane task. You’d do this job full-time if you could. 

“Oh, there you are!” Turning abruptly, you pulled the cords from your ears, effectively silencing the indie rock as Derek strode up to you. 

“Ms. [Y/L/N], did you receive my text message? You’re wanted in Adam’s office as soon as possible!” His blue eyes searched yours frantically, even while you became acutely aware of your quickening heartbeat. 

“Oh, uhm..do you know why?” The man shook his head as he hurried away, staring intently at the clipboard clutched in his hands. A million scenarios chased themselves through your mind; the least of which involved the numerous bottles of tums you were sure Derek consumed regularly. Walking through the side doors and turning down the long hallway where the convention offices were set up, you busied yourself with the pattern beneath your feet. There were fifty-two blue diamonds set into the grey carpet between the main theater and Adam’s office. After several deep breaths, you squared your shoulders and rose your fist to knock on the oak door. The sound of a chair tracking across the floor echoed from behind the barrier and when the door opened, you were surprised to see the man still sitting. 

“Ah, Ms. [Y/L/N], do come in.” Following him inside, you paused to close the door at Adam’s insistence. 

“Ms. [Y/L/N], it appears we need to have a chat.” Shifting uneasily just inside the door, you tried to still the worried thoughts still cavorting in your subconscious. 

“Is something wrong sir?” Adam barked out a laugh and you were disappointed when you jumped at his tone. 

“Quite, the opposite actually.” The man still sat in the office chair, his head thrown back as it swirled in lazy circles. “We’ve had a request to add you to our permanent staff.” He said it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Furrowing your brows, you tried to think of a reason why, or, for that matter who’d sent such a request. Sure, you had thought about talking to Adam about the possibility, but you hadn’t made any solid plans to do so. 

“Can I ask by who?” Maybe Derek? I mean, he’s really the only staff member I’ve interacted with on a regular basis this weekend. Stephanie perhaps? Adam chuckled to himself and shook his head, his eyes bright. 

“Mr. Padalecki has asked for you personally.” Of all the people you thought might’ve suggested it, Jared certainly hadn’t even come close to making the list. You were quiet as you absorbed the information. Looking up at Adam as his chair lazily swayed behind the card-table turned makeshift desk, you cleared your throat. 

“Did he...did he say...why?” The little conversation you’d had with Jared this weekend had been pleasant enough, but you couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d make such a request. 

“We discussed it.” “Suffice it to say he is impressed with your dedication to the job.” “This opportunity doesn’t present itself often Ms. [Y/F/N], strictly because exactly zero personal requests have occurred. Like, ever. I’ve been doing this a long, long time...and this is a first.” “Usually we staff the more experienced volunteers as handlers, it just so happened that our senior team member bowed out with the flu this weekend and you were the first person Derek saw upon finding out.” “Simply a ‘right place at the right time’ kind of scenario.” “Jared came to me earlier today after his gold panel and asked about you.” Shrugging, the black suit jacket he’d pulled on over his  grey t-shirt bunched at the seams. “That’s all I know.”  “Think about it Ms. [Y/L/N].” Nodding slowly, you turned, grabbing the overly shiny brass door handle to let yourself out. 

“Oh, and [Y/F/N]?” Looking back over your shoulder at Adam as he started gathering papers together, you paused; “Jared’s about to start his autographing sessions, I suggest you make haste.” 

CHAPTER TWO

TAGS: @jaredsunflowergoddess @arses21434 @wings-of-a-raven @jamielea81

[wildefiction]

Hunger: Three

PAIRING: Jared x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,506

CHAPTER(S): 3/?

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Job Loss

Relief and terror fought their way through your chest. When he'd left moments before, you'd assumed it would be the last time you'd see him. Sure, he seemed genuine in the time you'd spent together, and yeah, Adam had summoned you to his office, all but offering you a permanent position with the company - but still. Some part of you had decided that the entire thing had only existed in your mind. You'd actually half expected to wake up in your bed to the screeching of the alarm - chalking it up to simply a nice dream.

But he was there. Really there. The hand holding his phone starting to droop, the expression on his face conflicted. Did you want to exchange phone numbers? What could it hurt? These thoughts swirled around in your consciousness, and while it had seemed as if an eternity had passed, in reality it had been only seconds. 

“Oh, uh, su-sure Jared.” A hesitant smile lit up your eyes and you retreated further into the room, holding the door open in invitation. 

After a moment's hesitation, he followed you - choosing to lean his lanky frame against the door. Half in, half out. Like he wasn't fully sure if you were inviting him in or not. Hair fell over your eyes as you bent double, grabbing a thin black cord from the floor beside your bed. Following it up the side of the mattress to disappear under one haphazardly strewn pillow you found your phone; a small green charging light illuminating the darkness.

Spinning to face him once more, your phone held out in exchange for his, you dialed your number into his contacts list. 

After reclaiming your device, the two of you just kind of stood there - neither sure what to say. The silence became nearly palpable. Clearing his throat, Jared's brow furrowed for a moment before smiling down at you. 

“I'll uh..I'll text you. Kay?”

Nodding mutely, you couldn't quite understand what was happening here.

“Sure. Well, uhm, goodnight Jared.” Moving back towards the door, you watched as he turned, grabbing the solid wood barrier as he stepped back into the hallway.

“Night [Y/F/N]” 

*****

The following week was back to business as usual. And, as expected, the grey walls surrounding your cubicle matched too well with the grey weather outside. Glancing out the window across the room, rain pounded the glass, the trees bending against the onslaught of  the wind.

Usually, you loved this weather. You loved living here, but for some reason, something felt off tonight.

With a resigned sigh, you rolled the desk chair back into your workspace and pulled up your email. 

The refreshed inbox now held a single composition. It was from Adam.

Eyes widening, you glanced furtively around, on the lookout for anyone's prying eyes. Personal business on company time was greatly frowned upon.

Maneuvering the non-descript grey mouse to hover over the message, you took a deep breath and clicked. Closing your eyes for a few moments, you steeled yourself for rejection. He'd probably changed his mind. After all, he'd said it himself, not many people had been brought in by special request.

Lifting your eyes to the screen, you scanned the document - searching for the words of regret. Searching for your dismissal. 

It wasn't there.

It was, instead, a formal offer.

The contract detailed everything from your anticipated responsibilities to your travel schedule and their proposed salary. While the offer was generous - there was also the stipulation that you'd have to relocate. To California, where Creation held it's offices. 

Perusing the remainder of the email, you noted fine print at the very bottom:

“Applicant has three business days to respond to first offer. If no contact is made – company has full power to revoke the proposal at any point.”

Three days?! The thudding in your chest picked up speed. A sideways glance to the corner of the monitor gave you pause. It was Tuesday. They expected your response by Friday. Did that mean, if you were to accept the terms that you’d be out of this miserable place by then?

Being a creature of habit, you really weren’t sure you could decide that quickly. Only an hour ago, you’d been convinced the offer wasn’t going to come. Three days ago, you hadn’t even met Jared in person. Now you were faced with one of the biggest decisions of your life. On a very tight deadline. Sweat dotted your forehead even though your skin was cool to the touch. Folding your arms across the top of the formica desktop, you lowered your forehead to rest upon them.

In. Out. In….out.

“What are you doing Ms. [Y/L/N]?”

Startled out of your position, you spun around in the mesh chair, coming face to face with the sour-expression of Mr. Blaine – department supervisor. Flanking him, a stern-looking woman in a boxy polyester three-piece grimaced. To her right, Ted, the loveable bear of a security guard for your building stood quietly; hands clasped over each other. He wouldn’t even look at you.

“Wha..what’s going on?” Fear boiled in your gut. While you’d never been in trouble at work, nor had you ever been approached by anyone in this fashion. There was a current of tension in the small space. Coworkers surreptitiously peered around the corners of their own workspace; ears open for any tidbits of gossip that might make their day more interesting.

“Ms. [Y/L/N], if you would please follow us?”

Standing from your chair, the squeak of the plastic frame was thunderous in your mind, prickling dots of adrenaline present in your extremities as you followed along after Mr. Blaine, the remainder of the small troupe hovered around you and all you could see were sharks circling a potential meal.

The walk down the hallway to the elevator was awkward. The ride down the lift silent; a monotone buzz of the single light inside the only disturbance. Hinges protested with a squeal as the heavy steel doors slid open, your procession filing out silently around you. Approaching the HR department, your mind kicked into overdrive. Had you done something wrong? To your knowledge, nothing was amiss – hell, you’d never even called in sick. Leaning over her desk and selecting a large manila envelope from a stack inside her inbox, the woman turned to face you. A heavy sigh slipped from her pursed lips, replaced quickly by a ridged, flat line. She was un-amused. “Ms. [Y/L/N], we regret to inform you, that effective immediately, your services are no longer required at this agency.” “Please accept this severance package with our sincerest apologies.” Trailing off, her eyes were wide – her breath now held in her chest. Waiting for the backlash. Waiting for you to react. You could almost see the fear in her expression. You almost felt sorry for the woman, it wasn’t her fault that firing people was part of her job description, although you had the very distinct impression that she had no idea about it either. Eyes darting back to the considerable stack of identical packages that she’d selected yours from, the realization that you weren’t the only one this would happen to was immediate. “Ca-can I ask why?” While not timid, your tone was still just above a whisper – confusion laced through the words you uttered. “Unfortunately, Ms. [Y/L/N] – the company was sold last week. They’re moving the headquarters to another location…” Glancing across the room to Mr. Blaine, currently slumped against the wall, hands buried deep in the pockets of his dress pants – you noticed, for the first time his unkempt hair and loose tie. He’d been putting on a show in front of your co-workers. This was affecting him too, so it seemed. Scrubbing his hands over his face, the exhaustion and worry were evident in his expression. “So, this isn’t because I did something wrong?” You were careful how you worded the question. While you hadn’t been able to place why they might be letting you go, neither did you want them to think you had a reason. “No, unfortunately. You haven’t been the first this week, and…you’re not likely to be the last.” “I’m really, very sorry. I do wish you the best of luck Ms. [Y/L/N].” Holding his hand out, Mr. Blaine fixed you with a look that was, quite likely, the closest thing to you’d ever seen to sincerity. And so, for the first time in several years, you found yourself home in the middle of the afternoon – with nothing to do but wonder where your life was about to go. At least you had options. So, with a deep breath, you pulled your laptop from the couch, opened the email you had received earlier from Adam and accepted the offer – proposing a meeting over lunch to discuss details and to hopefully convince him that you didn’t -need- to live in California to fulfill this role.

TAGS: @jaredsunflowergoddess @arses21434 @wings-of-a-raven @jamielea81

[wildefiction]

Hunger: Two

PAIRING: Jared x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,801

CHAPTER(S): 2/?

SUMMARY: When reader isn’t attending a Supernatural Convention, she’s preparing for the next one. Staying busy is the only thing that keeps her sane. While it’s difficult for some people to understand her motives, one person will show her that he knows exactly what she’s going through. Will Jared be able to make the reader believe she deserves to be loved or is she too far gone already?

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Anxious Reader, Touch Aversion, Inner Mean Girl

In through your nose...out through your mouth. 

A skin-numbing tingle spread through your limbs, your mind swimming with the implications of Jared’s request as you shuffled down the hallway stretching through the quiet hotel. New knots twisted themselves into a worrisome frenzy the closer you came to the large theater room where autographs were scheduled to take place. Your hands trembled just slightly. Clenching your cold fingers into fists and with the aid of several more deep breaths you found yourself pushing through the anxiety threatening to debilitate you. 

Familiar black curtains were erected in each of the four corners of the ballroom. Low-hanging chandeliers cast a warm glow over each station. You knew Jared sat behind one of those panels. You knew you’d have to join him - acting as if everything was normal. As if you did this all the time. 

But then again, maybe you were overthinking the situation. It's not like he'd confessed his undying love for you. Maybe he just appreciated that you were a hard worker? His compliment from the previous day floated back through your subconscious and your cheeks flushed with a sudden warmth.

Steeling your nerves, you quietly slipped through the crowds of people all chatting amongst themselves, their faces lit with excitement as they waited for their time in front of the guests.

With a final deep breath, straightening your posture to appear as tall and confident as possible, you proceeded to walk through the last few bodies as you approached Clif, knowing well enough that if he was around, Jared and Jensen weren’t far away. 

As luck would have it, you had chosen the correct table and the smile you plastered across your face was mostly genuine as Jared came into view. 

He’d begun signing moments before; a young girl with wide eyes clutching a cardboard poster tube with white knuckles-stood before him, her breathing quick and shallow.

Looking up from where he’d scribbled his signature in the lower left of the glossy print on the table, he’d started to slide the picture back across to her when he paused, bending over the print of the impala before furiously scribbling a message that personalized his signature. A breathless nod of thanks was uttered as the girls’ eyes shone with unshed tears. You could see how hard she was trying to hold back her emotions as she slipped away.

“[Y/F/N]! Standing suddenly, the giant man skirted the table and wrapped his arms around you. Instantly, you froze. Eyes wide, back stiff, your haphazard pat to the back didn’t go unnoticed and Jared pulled away suddenly, realizing how uncomfortable you obviously were. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry - I was just happy to see you.” Hurriedly you waved off the unease you’d felt. Sure, it was Jared Padalecki that had just crushed you against his very solid chest, but it had still been unexpected and you’d yet to find a way to convince yourself that hugs were okay. 

Truth was, you craved them. You needed to be touched almost as much as you needed to eat, or sleep. It’d been so long since you’d experienced any kind of real affection however, and you weren’t sure how to react. 

To most people, a simple hug was nothing...merely a greeting perhaps. But your conscience went into overdrive at a moments’ notice. How long were you supposed to hold on? Was this a genuine hug or simply an awkward, superficial gesture of a typical human hello? Your reaction was always delayed, and most people would’ve stepped back and moved on to conversation by the time you’d had the opportunity to return the embrace. What you wouldn’t give to have someone really hold you. To take a full minute and just envelope you in a blanket of comfort. No agenda, no awkwardness - just comfort. As you began to focus, you noticed Jared had returned to his seat, the next few people in line curiously looking between you and him - likely trying to figure out if there was some new story worthy of a late-night Twitter discussion. 

“Be normal. Just move to your chair and smile. Just smile. Smiling is what they expect. Ask how they’re doing. This is fine.” The narration played in a loop through your mind as you quietly took your seat. Turning to the next person in line, you forced yourself to do just that, the more agreeable expression replacing the lost look of moments before. 

“Hi!” Reaching forward, you carefully took an electric guitar from a middle-aged blonde that stood before you. Gingerly, you set it on the deep red linens covering the table and handed Jared a gold sharpie, captivated as the metallic ink flowed over the polished black body of the instrument. Taking a moment to admire the other signatures she’d collected, Jared spoke for a few moments about how it was a really neat item to have signed, asking the woman why she’d picked a guitar. While you’d never worked with or near anyone of even remote celebrity status, you were pleased with how engaged Jared was with his fans. He seemed to genuinely care about the people patiently waiting to speak with him and, for a moment you forgot that he was an actor. Thinking, you realized you’d like to know what he was like everyday. There were stories on the internet about his generosity and seemingly real interest in the people who looked up to him. But to witness it in person was a completely different thing. 

The following two hours passed in a similar fashion. At one point, you took a moment to look around the edge of the draped wall. A lot of people still waited in line, their expressions varying from excitement to exhaustion and everything in-between. What surprised you most however, was that Jared was the last guest still in the room. Volunteers were chatting with each other as curtains were folded and stacked in totes and the frames surrounding the folding tables were disassembled. Jensen and Misha must’ve been long gone.

Eventually, Jared came to his last autograph of the evening. 

“Hey there, thank you so much for waiting this long for me!” As tired as he had to be, Jared didn’t even think about letting his exhaustion show. Speaking the longest to this particular young man seemed important. Technically, as his handler it was your job to move things along as efficiently as possible, but it was the end of the night. You were tired, no one was waiting and this interaction seemed to be a once-in-a-lifetime event for most people. Who were you to rush it? 

A short time later, you rose from your seat, fully intending on calling it a night. While it hadn’t seemed much like a fourteen-hour day, your body was sternly reminding you that you were, in fact, no longer a teenager that could run on two hours of sleep.

Stacking the cold plastic chair atop the others lined against one wall, you turned to head for the doors, removing the thin black lanyard from around your neck. You wanted nothing more than to blend back into the crowd, to become just another person, to not explain that the bathroom was, in fact, twenty feet back in the opposite direction for the five hundredth time.

Just as you reached for the lock-bar stretching across the double wooden doors of the theater, you turned to find Jared saying his own goodbyes to the crew. 

“Hey, [Y/F/N], wait up!”

Had it been -anyone else- you might’ve pretended you couldn’t hear them. Ignoring Jared wasn’t an option however. You’d never forgive yourself. So, instead of pretending, you turned to see the man literally jogging up to you. “How did he have so much energy after such a long day?” Briefly wondering, you realized you could actually ask him that very question. 

“Ha, uh..I dunno. Guess I’m still running on adrenaline?” 

“Ahunh, well, you’ll hafta tell me how you do that sometime.” A tired smirk accompanied your reply and you realized that you’d missed what he’d said afterwards.

“What was that?” “Sorry, guess I’m a little slow tonight.” Nervous laughter took the edge off of your words.

“I asked if you wanted to maybe get a drink?” 

“Mr. Padalecki, you realize it’s like..oh.” Pulling the phone from your pocket to check the time, you had the decency to blush when you realized it was still fairly early.

“What?” Wow, his smile really was infectious. “Crap, stop staring [Y/F/N], focus!” Clearing your throat, you took a moment to gather some sort of order to your scattered thoughts.

“I was gonna scold you for wanting to go out so late..but then I realized it’s only nine o’clock.” 

“Sooo…?” It was then that you were made blatantly aware of why the Supernatural Family referred to him as an overgrown puppy. 

How often would this situation come up? After this weekend, you’d go back to your normal nine to five in your hometown. Back to the office. Back to traffic. Back to complacency.

“Uh, sure. I guess one drink can’t hurt.” Grinning, you pushed your weight against the door leading into the corridor connecting the theater to the green room. Grabbing your bag from the carpet next to one of the overstuffed armchairs, you promised to meet Jared back here after changing into something a little less work and a little more appropriate for a night out.

“I look forward to it, [Y/F/N] - meet me here in..say...thirty?” Glancing at his watch, the man sank into the deep blue cushions of a long couch, slouching and raising his feet to rest upon the solid wood coffee table arranged in front of it. With another wide smile, he pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly becoming lost in what you assumed to be his social media feed as you made a hasty retreat to your room, not realizing just how much everything was about to change.

As you stepped from the elevator, after casting a cursory glance over both shoulders to make sure no one was around, the sprint to your room at the end of the hall left you breathless with excitement. 

Checking the time and setting yourself an alarm, you quickly began to rummage through the mess of a suitcase that sat haphazardly at the end of your bed. Today was the last day of the convention and you'd had no plans on doing anything remotely exciting, least of all spending the night having drinks with Jared Padalecki.

Throwing off the stiff, black t-shirt you'd worn all day, you stood there in little more than your underwear, trying to decide what to wear. 

The fifteen-minute warning sounded from your phone and panic tried to set in. Muttering to yourself, you hastily grabbed an oversized, cream-colored, off-shoulder sweater and a pair of black leggings. There was no time for anything fancy and this wasn't a date. For some reason you had to keep reminding yourself of that little detail. 

Freshening up your smeared eyeliner and swiping on some new deodorant was the best you could do as the five-minute warning sounded.

This time, you couldn't care less if people saw you sprinting through the halls of the hotel - you weren't about to make Jared wait.

With ten seconds to spare, you arrived back at the green room, taking a moment to collect your senses before calmly pushing open the door to where Jared sat waiting.

Looking up from his phone at the sound of the metal latch clicking open, Jared could only smile. [Y/F/N] looked beautiful. The stretchy black material of her leggings clung to every curve of her hips; small triangles of mesh strategically lining the length of the pants hinted at the beauty lying hidden beneath. [Y/F/N]’s hair framed her face perfectly; the fluffy sweater she'd chosen artfully draped across her bare shoulders was meant to be comforting, he was willing to bet. He was intimately familiar with anxiety, seeking comfort from inanimate objects helped ground him when he was struggling too.

He wanted to tell her she was beautiful. He wanted to show her she was beautiful. But instead, he smiled, hoping she'd realize how genuine it was.

“Hey, [Y/F/N].” His voice was soft in its greeting. “Ready for that drink?”

With a deep breath, you nodded, a bright smile lighting up your [Y/E/C] eyes.

Watching Jared haul himself up from the low couch would have been amusing if he weren't so graceful. But, he pulled it off with an elegance you weren't used to seeing in most men.

The hotel bar was bustling with groups of people winding down from a busy weekend. How the two of you managed to snag a booth in the back corner was a bit of a mystery, though you weren't about to question his methods. Approaching the dimly lit table, you felt Jared slow, stepping aside and gesturing for you to go ahead. Silently grateful, you slid into the wide cushioned bench, instantly more comfortable with your back pressed to the wall. 

Flicking his eyes between the open seat next to you and the one across the table, he carefully slid his large frame into the opposite seat. Glancing back over his shoulder, he took a deep breath before turning to face you; his broad shoulders angling to slot themselves into the very corner of his booth.

An hour into the night, you were finally beginning to relax. The double whiskey you sipped likely helping you feel more comfortable, though it too, could have just been Jared. He didn't seem to have an agenda, and he listened to you with as much focus as he gave anyone else. The conversation flowed easily and you sat perched on the edge of your seat, enraptured with one of his stories from set. 

Once again, you noticed him glancing around the room before trying to sit deeper into the corner of his seat. Twenty minutes prior, he'd turned, reclining his legs in front of him on the bench, twisting his upper body to still face you. 

Scrunching your face into a concerned arrangement of apprehension, the mean-girl living in the recesses of your mind sprang to life. “He just feels sorry for you, why else would he have asked you to drinks? He's way out of your league, just look, he's clearly not having a very good time…”

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, surprised at how even your tone was despite the disappointment and embarrassment you felt. 

“Hey, Jared. Are you okay? I mean, you really don't have to hang out with me...you just..I mean..you seem pretty uncomfortable.”

His gaze landed back on you and his heart ached at the thought that you thought he pitied you. 

“Wha-? No! I…” 

Leaning forward he reached out with one hand, intent on grasping the fingers of your hand that wasn't cradling your glass tumbler. At the last moment, he hesitated, pulling back to put his hand in his lap. Looking down at where he fidgeted with a loose string on his shirt, you marvelled at his beautiful coppery hair as it fell around his face. 

“Heh, you're probably going to think I'm silly, it's just…”

Another deep breath escaped with a huff before he glanced back up to meet your concerned face.

“I'm really anxious about sitting with my back to people.” The words came out in a rush, and he was back to looking everywhere but at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to maintain his composure.

You sat there for a minute, stunned by his confession. You knew he struggled with his own inner demons, but to see him fully able to tell you about his discomfort with a situation when he barely knew you was kind of inspiring. If Jared Padalecki could talk (mostly) confidently about his struggles, maybe you could too.

For a moment, you considered what to say next. While your mind still weighed your options, your mouth clearly had other ideas and you were surprised as the words tumbled forth, “you could come sit on this side with me..uh..if you want.”

“Shit. Uh. Well, guess that’s out there. Be cool. It’s fine if he says no. Just breathe…”

Letting out a slow breath, you put your smile back on and hoped it reached your eyes. 

Jared was surprised. “Oh. Uh, are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I think I’ve done that enough for one day, ha..” Fidgeting, he clapped a large hand to the back of his neck, his gaze averted as he remembered quite nearly knocking you over in his exuberance earlier.

Were you sure? Yes. Yes, you were sure. 

“Yes.” That same smile still in place, you patted the seat next to you and watched as the man slid across the seat, rose and cautiously lowered himself into the space next to you. Not realizing the breath you held until your lungs started to scream for air, inch by inch you relaxed. The scent of vanilla and sandalwood settled over you as Jared got comfortable, one knee pressing against your left thigh. A light twist of summery pineapple and pear rounded out what would become a very intoxicating scent. 

Turning to lean against the corner of the booth, you were careful to maintain the light touch between your bodies - this time, the smile on your face - though hesitant - was one-hundred percent real.

As the clock approached midnight, you began to dread the end of your conversation. Nothing could last forever, and this had been one of the best nights you’d had in a very long time. Trying your best to stifle a yawn - and failing miserably, you might add - Jared chuckled under his breath “I guess I should let you get to sleep, don’t want you turning into a pumpkin.”

“Aha, yes, very funny Mr. Padaleski.” Jared rolled his eyes when you drug the syllables of his incorrectly-pronounced name out in jest. “Just because I like pumpkin flavored liqueur, doesn’t mean I’m gonna turn into one!”

“At any rate, I should get going anyhow. My plane leaves in a few hours and I’ve gotta be ready to start filming very shortly afterwards.” The exhaustion was evident in his features, but his tired smile was comforting, nonetheless. 

When he made no move to let you out of the booth, you almost didn’t say anything. But, he was right. Besides, who were you to keep him here? He’d already lost out on a full nights’ sleep because of you.

“Here, let me walk you back to your room?” Sliding from his side of the booth, he turned and reached a hand out to help you. There was no hesitation when you grasped his warm fingers and allowed him to pull you from your seat. 

“You really don’t have to walk me back, I’m sure you’ve much better things to do - like sleep?” 

“Well, maybe I want to walk you back." Hurriedly, he added “If you want... besides, I can sleep when I’m dead.” A quiet huff of laughter softened the statement. Relenting, you fell into step next to the taller man as the last minutes of your night out ticked away. 

Too soon you stood in front of the door to your hotel room. In a few minutes, you’d have to say goodbye - unlikely to ever have this moment again. Sure, Jared had asked specifically for you to be his assigned handler for conventions, but Adam hadn’t officially offered you the position. You had a lot to think about. While the answer seemed easy enough, it would likely be anything but. You were a creature of habit, often shying away from change and the unknown. 

“So..I guess this is goodnight...goodbye even.” Jared’s words trailed off and you picked up on the distinct impression that he wanted to say something else. 

“So, rather than tackling you head-on, I’d very much like a hug goodnight. Would that be okay?” 

Jared’s eyes widened in surprise, but rather than answering, he simply opened his arms - allowing you to come to him.

Reminding yourself to breathe, you stepped forward into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist and turning your head to press your ear to his chest. The warmth of his scent washed over you as he held you to him, his chin resting atop your head. The sure, thick, beating of his heart had just started to help loosen the tension singing through your veins when your brain started screaming at you to back away. “That’s enough [Y/F/N], let the poor guy go! Why are you still hugging him?!”

Hurriedly, you removed your arms, intent on listening to that voice and stepping back from Jared. Intent on escaping through the thick barrier of a door and back into the comfort of your own world. With a resigned sigh, he loosened his grip and let you go. Instantly, your body temperature seemed to drop, even though it certainly wasn’t cold in the hallway where the two of you stood. 

“Well...goodnight [Y/F/N], I had an amazing time and I hope you have a wonderful night. Sleep well..” With a final flash of his bright smile, Jared turned, his long legs carrying him down the hallway and to the elevator. 

Disappearing behind the heavy door of your hotel, you slumped against the wood - sliding down to rest on the floor and allow yourself to breathe again. A flood of emotions from the previous several hours assaulted you all at once. 

Wrapping arms around your knees, forehead resting against your chilled skin, a heavy sigh slid between your lips as you began to decompress.

The quiet sound of knuckles against the door behind you went unnoticed at first. Only when the sound became more insistent did you get to your feet. Bracing yourself against the door and peering through the peep-hole you couldn’t see anything. Turning the brushed-nickel handle as quietly as possible, you pulled open the door to see Jared sauntering away from you. 

“Jared?!” Your tone might have been incredulous but you were in disbelief that he’d come back. Slowing, the man turned to face you, hesitating before his approach. 

When he had reached your side, one hand slid back into his hair as he nervously avoided looking directly at you. Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, expectant. 

“Hey, uh, sorry to bother you.” “I was wondering…-reaching into his pocket, he pulled an iPhone out and handed it to you - a shy smile hesitant on his face.

“...would you maybe...want to exchange phone numbers?” 

CHAPTER THREE

TAGS: @jaredsunflowergoddess @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven @arses21434

[wildefiction]

Focus

PAIRING: Rob x Reader x Chris

CHAPTER: 12/?

WORD COUNT: 2,176

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Cute fluff, Stressed Reader, Gossip, Frustration

A/N: Here's chapter 12 to the collaboration @natasha-cole and I are writing - enjoy!

With a reassuring pat on your shoulder, Kim smiled before pulling open the door to the ladies’ room. Bri, ever the optimist, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked out with you. Bidding you good-night and good luck, the two of them sauntered back over to the decidedly smaller group of people they’d been sitting with earlier.

Wandering back over to the couch with the conversation you’d just had with the girls still fresh in your mind, you began to gather your things, fully intent on heading back to your room.

Rob’s tired smile greeted you from where he still sat on the couch. Lifting himself from the cushions, he raised his arms, stretching while trying to stifle a yawn.

Realizing your own exhaustion, you glanced at the phone in your hand to see how late it was. The screen read three-forty-five. How you’d managed to stay awake this long, you weren’t sure. Though it may have had something to do with the company you’d kept and the conversations you’d had in the several hours that had passed since you’d followed Kim up from the green room.

“I don’t know how you guys do this every weekend.” Smiling at the man in front of you when he reached for your hand, the question in your eyes was undeniable as his warm fingers laced themselves through yours.

“You get used to it, or rather, some of us do. We see each other a lot, but Saturday nights – everyone is so hyped up after the concert that we couldn’t sleep right away if we tried.”

Nodding your understanding as the two of you made your way to the door, you let his answer sink in. He must have mistook your silence for discomfort however, and as his thumb smoothed over your knuckles, you were brought back to the present.

“You okay?” Concern mingled with the fatigue on his face, and you smiled. The idea that someone could read you well enough to tell the difference between your being tired and upset was a new idea for you. For a moment, you considered just talking to him right then. The halls were quiet as he walked you back towards your room, but the thought was brief. You knew you’d rather be completely present for the conversation you’d be having with both him and Chris. Squeezing his hand, you nodded.

“Just tired. I don’t think I’ve been up this late in ten years.” “I’m actually debating whether it’s even worth it to sleep at this point.”

Rubbing your free hand across your face, the small movement seemed to bring with it the full weight of your exhaustion.

“Trust me, you’re going to want to sleep as much as you can. Don’t wanna show up for work in the morning and not be at the top of your game. It’s J2 day after all.”

Nudging your shoulder as the two of you approached your door, Rob stopped short, pulling you around and into a sweet hug. The steady beating in his chest threatening to make you fall asleep standing right where you were. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he smiled sleepily.

“Get some sleep, [Y/F/N] – I’ll see you tomorrow. Or…rather, later today.”

Nodding to yourself, but finding it difficult to move away from his embrace, you finally sighed and unlocked your door. With a final glance, Rob said goodbye and turned to walk back down the hallway.

Having zero energy to change into different clothes, you fell face-first into the mediocre hotel bed, asleep before you could even think about anything that had transpired tonight.

****

A frenzied knocking at the door pulled you from a deep sleep. Squinting against the early morning sun streaming through the window, you hoped the noise had been part of your dream. Closing your eyes to try and recapture it proved futile as the insistent interruption sounded again.

If only you'd given whoever stood on the other side of that door a spare key, you wouldn't have to get out of bed.

Wishful thinking on your part.

The next round of knocking came with the muffled sound of your name. Not wanting to disturb the people who were likely trying to sleep in on the final day of their weekend, you begrudgingly extracted yourself from the nest of blankets and crossed the room to the door. Pulling it open amidst yet another flurry of knocking, you were surprised to see Kim and Briana standing on the other side.

Craning their heads to look over your shoulder, Briana brushed past you into the room while Kim started immediately with rapid fire questions.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" "How ya feeling?"

"We brought coffee, and not that gross hotel sludge they so generously offer for free, but the real stuff. The good stuff." 

"You like coffee right?"

Nodding with a barely disguised grumble of affirmation, you could only smile as the women both grimaced good-naturedly.

"Yikes, rough night?"

"...you're uh, you're not hiding anyone under the bed or in the closet are you?"

The last teasing remark was the first thing Briana had said to you, and honestly, the first thing that even remotely registered as a question needing answered.

Standing to one side so Kim could squeeze past, you turned, still wrapped in the duvet as the door clicked shut behind you.

"Definitely not."

Sipping at the bold flavors of the latte Kim had given you, the surprised glance shared between the other two women went unnoticed.

"Well, uh, have you talked to them yet?" 

Glancing at Briana, her gaze was still on Kim even though she had spoken to you.

Turning your attention to the other woman, your eyes narrowed upon noticing the poorly concealed consternation Kim wore on her face.

"No….why?” Setting the coffee on the bedside table, attention now fully on the girls, you crossed your arms under your chest, alternating your attention between them, hoping one of them was about to start talking.

"Uh, well, funny you should ask...but uh...we..erm.."

Briana was stalling, shooting furtive glances to her friend, silently asking for help.

"We can't find Chris. We thought maybe…"

Waffling her hands in the air, her very pointed expression made it clear why they were at your room at nine am. 

Choking on a sip of the coffee you'd picked back up, you took a moment to wipe the back of a hand across your chin.

"And..what, you thought he'd be here?!"

Scrunching up her face, Kim shrugged before nodding vigorously.

"I'm not sure whether to be offended or flattered." A snort of laughter followed the statement, but you weren't really upset.

"I mean, I guess I can understand why you guys would think to come here but I haven't seen Chris since last night."

"Rob walked me back to my room and then I crashed. As you can see, I didn't even change."

Skirting the bed to pick up your phone from the dresser, you flicked open the screen. There were no messages or missed calls.

"I'll shoot him a text and--"

"We've all done that. Went to his room too." Briana said the words softly, as if she wasn't sure how you'd take the news.

"Yeah, but maybe Chris will answer [Y/F/N]. Couldn't hurt anyways." Kim pointed out.

"I mean...it is still really early. Hell, I've only slept five hours myself. Are you guys sure he's not just passed out in his room?"

Typing out a quick good morning text, asking Chris if he wanted to meet for lunch, you set the phone back down on the dresser.

"Chris is always the first one up. Dude is awake before the birds, regardless of how late he stayed out the night before." Kim went on to explain that nobody had heard from him since he'd left the party last night.

"I'm sure he's fine. Really...he's a big boy, he can take care of himself." 

"The convention doesn't start for another few hours, right? I bet he'll be back before the first set of photo ops. He's probably just getting breakfast or something."

****

Following the girls downstairs after you'd taken the time to shower and brush your teeth - which went a remarkably long way towards feeling like a functioning human again - the vendors room caught your eye.

"I'll catch up later guys, I'm gonna check this out."

Ducking into the adjacent hallway, several tables were spread across the space. Arranged amongst the typical t-shirt vendors, artists sold everything from paintings to jewelry to custom figurines. 

Selecting a tote bag and several CD's from the Louden Swain merchandise table, you were paying for your selections when a familiar voice caught your attention.

"Yeah, that's her."

"I don't know, but he's been really different this weekend. It's like he doesn't even see us now that she's around."

The conversation was all hushed tones and urgent whispers, and it was clear that whoever the woman was talking to was trying, unsuccessfully, to keep her voice down.

You weren't typically one to eavesdrop on others discussions but it was pretty clear you were part of it. Plus, they were talking about Chris. Maybe they knew where he was.

Before you had a chance to ask them, the two women walked away, leaving you to wonder what they were talking about.

"Don't pay them any mind, unfortunately, gossip spreads like wildfire around here and since you're the new girl, you're the hot topic of the weekend."

Sitting diagonally from where you stood, a girl smiled at you from behind her booth. Approaching her table, you took note of the stylized art of the guests, lined up next to a large, incredibly detailed portrait of Rob.

"Wow, this is really amazing."

Bending over to study the color palette she'd chosen to use, you'd intended to take her observation with a grain of salt. She, however didn't appear to be finished.

"You seem cool enough though. You're pretty talented with that camera of yours. Chris talks about you often."

There was no hint of jealousy or mockery in her words, and her neutral expression seemed friendly enough.

"You guys are friends?" "Have you seen him today?"

The woman shrugged nonchalantly.

"I suppose? He and I have been at the same conventions for several years, and we take great delight in annoying each other - but aside from that?"

Bending over her notebook, she went back to working on her drawing. 

Taking note of the fact that she hadn't really answered either of your questions, you were just about to look through her portfolio when your phone rang.

"Hey, did you guys find him?" "Oh...really? And what time does it start? Damnit. Ok, I'll be there in a sec."

Dropping the device back into your pocket, you said a hurried goodbye and made a beeline for the door.

It was nearing eleven o'clock, when a line of people would be waiting for their photo ops with Jensen. Hurrying to the room, when you arrived and the space was silent, concern really started to set in.

Chris had never missed a Creation event since he'd started. Well over a hundred events and he'd always shown up. You could only hope today wouldn't change that. 

Approximately fifty people were already milling about outside of the quiet space, volunteers trying to herd them back into the auditorium.

"Guys, please return to the theater - we'll be calling Jensen's photo ops in groups of fifty to a hundred at a time."

"Chris hasn't even set up for the day please go back to your seats."

You made a mental note to thank the volunteers at some point today, they really were the backbone of these conventions.

Slipping through the door, you were quick to flip the light switches. The silence and the dark were too much together when you'd only ever seen the room brightly lit and loud.

Figuring the least you could do was start setting up, you made the rounds, checking that lights were connected, the printers were turned on and the marks on the floor didn't need refreshing. Chris's equipment wasn't in the room, but then you hadn't really expected him to leave it overnight. 

Checking your phone once more, it was still devoid of any notifications. Navigating to your own playlists, you hit start and docked it in the cradle sitting on the table. It wasn't his music, but it made the wait infinitely less awkward.

When the door opened, you glanced up, heart beating wildly in your chest. Hoping…

"Hey, uh, we've got the first fifty people lined up out here. Should I let the handlers know to bring Jensen in?"

Chris's assistant searched your face for answers. Problem was, you had no idea how to do this alone. Right now, it looked as if your choice was being made for you however, as you couldn't realistically ask them to wait any longer than they already had.

'Uh..ye-yeah.. go ahead. Let's see what happens."

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

[wildefiction]

Roll Me Over

PAIRING: Rob Benedict x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,527

SUMMARY: After a long day of recording, an exhausted, cold Robbie knows just how to warm up <3

WARNINGS: Smut, Oral Sex, Sensation Play, Dom!Rob Undertones, Cold Hands, Unprotected Sex, L.A. Snow (This is definitely a warning)

A/N: Almost zero plot here guys...pretty much porn ;)

L.A didn't get snow. Everyone knew that. Rob certainly knew that. He'd lived in the city most of his adult life. And yet, thick powder drifted from the heavens as he stepped from the warmth of the studio. The moon, swollen and heavy, hung in the night sky, basking the streets in her filtered light.

Blowing warmth into his freezing fingers, Rob hurried to the small car parked among so many others in the narrow alley. Exhausted from the twelve-hour day, he couldn't wait to get home. The twenty-minute drive across town flew by, one verse from the bands’ most recent writing efforts revolving in his otherwise occupied thoughts. Slinging the thick nylon strap of his messenger bag over his head, Rob stepped from the rapidly cooling vehicle - his worn Converse landing directly in a rather deep pile of snow. With a silently muttered curse, he stomped through the offending weather, pulling his leather jacket a little closer around his shoulders after a particularly icy gust of wind cut through the small amount of warmth he'd managed to build up along the way. A smile pulled at one side of his face as his stark blue eyes flicked up to notice the warm golden light framing his bedroom window. “[Y/N]...”The sound of dancing paws greeted him as he fumbled with his house keys; the correct one sliding home after a brief struggle, nearly dropping both his phone and keychain in the process.

“Heya Lily, how was your day?” A rough scratch between the dogs’ ears quieted her excitement as she turned and trotted from the room. The unmistakable noise of the dog flap colliding with its frame followed shortly after her departure. After tossing his things in the wooden bowl on the hall table and kicking off his sodden shoes, Rob turned for the stairs, his muscles relaxing as the heat of house began to seep into his body.

“[Y/N]?” The short walk through the upstairs hall yielded no answer. Pausing at the oak frame of his bedroom door, that same small smile found itself back on his face at the sight that awaited him. Although still fairly early, [Y/N] was sprawled across the middle of his bed, face down, crisp, forest-green sheets tangled around her ankles - her back rising and falling steadily in her sleep. A small sliver of skin peeked from beneath the hem of what looked to be one of his band tees; deep garnet boy shorts stretching deliciously over the firm curves of her ass.

“[Y/N]?” His voice was softer this time as he approached her, his bare feet making no sound on the plush carpet.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight as Rob slid into place behind [Y/N], feather-light brushes of his lips caressing her warm skin. Skirting beneath the cotton fabric of her shirt, his still freezing fingers splayed out over her soft belly as he nibbled along the curve of her ear - his beard tickling the sensitive skin as [Y/N] stirred, quickly grabbing his hand away from her flushed skin.

“Damnit Benedict, get your cold hands off me..”

Warm fingers interlaced with his to take the sting from her words, a mischievous, sleepy grin greeting him as she turned to her back. With her free hand, she pulled him close, capturing his lips with her own and carding fingers through his dark curls. Wandering hands once more caressed soft skin, but this time, the chill felt refreshing and when Rob's fingers closed around one pebbled nipple, the strangled moan that assaulted his ears only encouraged his movements.

“Have I ever told you how much I love when you wear my clothes?”

Smirking, [Y/N] tilted her head curiously.

“Mmm..maybe once or twice. But...remind me?”

“You are incorrigible, do you know that?” “But..” -Rob's fingers closed tightly around [Y/N]’s rib-cage as he leaned back onto his knees, bringing her with him. With a final, lingering glare, his blue eyes found a new focus, and he lowered his mouth to nip teasingly at the flesh now pressing against that black and grey Metallica shirt.- “...I can't seem to get enough.”

“You?!” “What about me?” Leaning forward, you took a moment to properly straddle Rob's lap, pressing your body close to his as you leaned in to whisper against his ear, “have you seen yourself tonight? You look fucking gorgeous, as always. I swear you do this on purpose.”

Pulling back, you fixed the man before you with an intent stare - eyes raking over his disheveled white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled back over the corded muscles of his forearms. A black waistcoat layered over it lay open. His charcoal jeans suddenly tighter than moments before at the growl in your voice, at the look in your eyes.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Although Rob was pretty confident around his friends, occasionally his anxiety would flare up, but you only found him more endearing during these times. Cradling his face with both hands when he tried to laugh it off, you made a point to look him in the eye as your lips descended on his again. You'd learned that this small gesture went a long way towards assuring him you meant every word you said. The blush coloring his cheeks faded as your lips traveled from his neck to his collarbone; fingers nimbly popping buttons as you went. Suddenly impatient, Rob surged forward just as the last button gave way - his hands making quick work of your own shirt, which now lay in a discarded heap on the bedroom floor.

“Mmm, as beautiful as you look wearing my clothes, I've gotta say...they look better on the floor.”

Wrapping his arms back around your waist, Rob pulled your body against his, your breasts pressing flush against his chest just as he rolled his hips, the groan falling from his lips sending a shiver down your spine as his teeth closed over your pulse point.

A squeal of surprise sounded as you were tossed back against the pillows, Rob slotting himself between your thighs; the cool metal of his wallet chain sliding over your skin.

Chest heaving as he lavished you with bites and open-mouthed kisses, your hands once again found themselves tangling in his hair as he traveled down your body. Goosebumps flowed over your skin at the feel of his beard scraping against you. The distinct difference between his eager ministrations and the feather-light touch of sure fingers dancing over the elastic of your panties sent another shiver fleeing through every limb. Rob had naturally discovered your affinity for touch and often spent lazy days figuring out exactly what drove you wild.  Torn between wanting to watch his every move and wanting to succumb to sensation alone, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, the bottom edge of your lip caught between your teeth as the increasing echo of your heart beat filled your ears. It'd been about fifteen seconds since you'd last felt anything, fifteen seconds of absolute silence - not even the sound of clothing rustling as you lay there, waiting - chest rising and falling erratically...  [Y/N] was almost vibrating with tension; begging to be touched. Rob sat back, one slender finger touching down on an ankle, the slight twitch of surprise from [Y/N] making him grin. He was careful to move as quietly as possible and he'd become quite adept at teasing the woman before him. Taking care to only just graze her skin with the tip of his finger, he drew patterns on her body as he traveled up her long legs. Just before reaching the edge of the material encircling her thighs he stopped, his lust-filled pupils nearly eclipsing the steel grey-blue irises [Y/N] so loved.  After a moment, he dipped beneath the edge of the garment, the stretchy, knit material clinging to this new intrusion. Gingerly his fingers twisted into the fabric, an almost feral growl rumbling from his chest as he lowered his mouth to the newly exposed skin of [Y/N]’s hips.

“[Y/N], baby, look at me...”

You almost shook your head, he'd barely touched you and you were already a hot mess. Not that you were complaining - Rob had had this effect on you since the first night you'd met him.

When you finally managed to open your eyes, you nearly lost yourself at the sight of him, staring up you with that hunger in his dark expression.

Crying out as several seams gave way under his strength, your panties soon joined the growing pile of clothes abandoned on the floor. You had only a moment to consider the ruined garment before the heat of Rob's mouth descended on your core - slow, heavy swipes of his tongue leaving you breathless before grazing your clit with his teeth.  Fingers twisted in the bunched bedding at your sides and your head fell back in ecstasy when he blew the lightest of breaths across your damp skin, rolling his eyes up to catch the look of bliss painted across your features.  Struggling to sit up with Rob still nestled between your legs, your first coherent thought was that he was still wearing far too many clothes.

“Lose the pants Robbie…” Your eye contact never wavered as he moved from the bed, taking his time, making sure you watched as the thick leather belt around his waist slid through the denim - the reticent scrape of the brass on his belt buckle jingling as it fell to the floor.

Eyes trained on the newly toned ligaments disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants, your breath caught briefly in your chest as Rob deftly unbuttoned; the stark, metallic sound of his zipper falling just before the pants did. He'd chosen today to forgo boxers, and standing there before you with a cocky grin plastered across his face, you could tell he'd done it on purpose - just like you'd guessed. Scrambling from the bed, you were dropping to your knees in front of him, mouth descending on the velvet head of his cock before he had time to think. A guttural groan fell from parted lips as his eyes fluttered shut, the thin cluster of bracelets wound around his wrist filling your senses with his scent; crisp notes of cool wintergreen paired with delicate notes of the tropics and layered with the warmth of vanilla. Layered over it all was the intensely recognizable smell of leather; his hands trembling as they slid through your hair, fingertips gently pressing into your skin. Sliding your tongue beneath the heavy weight of him, you closed your eyes, reveling in his texture. A quiet hum of appreciation had him groaning again, your nose pressing against his taut belly as you took him to the back of your throat; fingers tracing soft circles on his now fevered skin. When his hips began to lose their rhythm, he moved his hands to cup your face, bringing your lust-filled gaze up to his. Unfolding yourself from the spot at his feet, your hands traveled up his body as you rose, lining up every inch of your body to his.

Walking forward, you crawled on the bed after him, slinging one leg over his narrow hips and settling yourself on his lap. Rob held himself still for only a moment, his hungry eyes raking over your creamy skin as he pulled you close, capturing your mouth with his.

He fed at the edges of your lips - his fingers straining with their desire to touch you. Dragging his mouth down your neck, teasing your flesh with his teeth, his arms snaked around your waist, crushing you against his body even as you rose up on your knees, wrapping one hand around his length. Lining yourself up, you pressed yourself against his head, teasing for both of you, prolonging that brief moment of anticipation..With a growl Rob rolled his hips, seating you fully in his lap - filling you completely. Breathless, eyes wild, you bucked against him - pleasure seeping through your body as he began to move. “Fuck, you feel so good [Y/N]..”

You could only whimper as warmth spread out from your core, igniting a fire inside that you only ever had felt with Rob.

Sure, thick strokes stoked that fire until it became a raging pleasure and you began to match his thrusts, the fervor coating both of you in a fine sheen of sweat. Surging forward, you found yourself on your back, Rob shoving your fevered body to collide with the cool sheets, the change in angle allowing him to sink deeper. Running one hand along the length of your right leg, Rob's agile fingers wrapped around the back of your thigh, lifting it up and around his waist, as he continued to thrust into you.  Rob's breath was heavy, his forehead rested against [Y/N]’s shoulder as he picked up speed, the slick between her thighs building warmth as he moved with her. The sound of his body colliding with hers created a heady, primal harmony that quickly wrote itself into his memory.  As his thrusts became increasingly erratic you felt a telltale pressure building in your belly, your release slowly mounting, though still just out of reach. Several moments later the build ramped up, increasing waves of pleasure ripping through your body. As your walls began to pulse around Rob's cock, you cried out for him to move faster. He didn't need to be begged a second time; the wooden frame of the bed groaned beneath his efforts, and he knew exactly what would send you over the edge.

“Mmm, you take my cock so well baby..fuck I’m gonna fill you up..ya want me to do that? Hmm? Would you like that?” His breathing turned ragged, eyes shifting out of focus and he had only a moment, brow furrowing as his steely irises locked with yours, until he felt the pressure of your orgasm wash over you, your body clamping down around him as his own release followed almost directly afterwards, thick ropes of cum painting your insides as he collapsed.

Legs shaking, sweat painted your skin as his weight shifted and he rolled to his side, immediately reaching to lace his fingers in yours, one thumb tracing lazy circles across your hand.

“You are so...incredibly beautiful [Y/N]. I don't know what I did to deserve you.”

Rob had always been a sap. It had taken you awhile to believe just how much he cared for you, but in moments like this, you could see it in his eyes. Truth was, you'd never known a love as strong as you felt when you were around him, and you hoped it would never end. As his fingers traced imaginary lines down the length of your back, only the barest sensation of air movement skimming across your cooling body, a new fire ignited deep in your belly and you rolled over, intent on showing him just how much you loved him, even if you couldn't tell him just yet.

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

[wildefiction]

Focus

WORD COUNT: 2,100

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Reader takes Kim up on her offer of attending the SNS after party.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drinking, kissing, and…feeeeeeelings

A/N: Here it is folks, chapter 10!

TEN

As the discussion about drinks and where everyone was hanging for the night began to filter around the group, you realized the relationship they all had with each other was like that of a family. Just like Chris had said. There were no cliques, no gossip, and everyone truly seemed to enjoy everyone else’s company. Moving to grab your camera bag, and seeing it open and empty, a bolt of dread lanced through your body. Remembering suddenly that you’d set in down backstage in your haste to catch Chris earlier you slipped out the door as Misha walked into the room, making a beeline for the stage entrance. Never had you been so careless with your camera. Silently berating yourself as you almost ran down the narrow hallway, you sighed in relief when it was sitting on the same table you’d left it on earlier.

Taking a moment, you had to remind yourself that, while this was a new experience and the people all seemed amazingly welcoming - you were here to work. Leaving your equipment unattended in an unfamiliar environment was asking for trouble, and if it was lost or stolen? You shuddered to think what would happen.

Returning to the greenroom and carefully ensuring your bag was packed and put under one of the tables, you turned to find Kim approaching, a beer in each hand and that same infectious smile on her face.

Handing you one of the chilled bottles, she motioned for you to follow as she wandered out into the hallway.

“So, [Y/F/N] - how’s your weekend been so far? Enjoying yourself?" 

Taking a swallow of her beer, you could see the mischievous gleam in her dark eyes as she awaited your answer.

"Kim, I don’t take you for someone who skirts around what you really mean to say." 

Grinning at the woman, you watched as she pressed the call button for the elevator. 

Shrugging, she dipped her head and nodded as the two of you stepped into the lift, heavy steel doors closing after you with a soft chime.

"Touche. I was trying to hold back, can’t have you running screaming already can we? What with Chris and Rob following you around like lost puppies.”

Scoffing, you followed behind her as she pressed a plastic keycard to the lock on a set of double doors at the end of the long corridor. Several blinking lights and a faint buzzing sounded, the woman pushing on the heavy doors and leading you inside.

If you thought the green room was big, nothing prepared you for the enormity of the space you walked into.

The suite was easily a thousand square feet. A large stone fireplace divided the sitting area into two sections, groups of overstuffed armchairs framed long leather couches that were arranged on each side. A cheerful fire provided warmth and a soft light to the living space. Another set of large double doors were set into the wall just ahead, massive sheets of glass framed in dark iron leading to a private balcony.

Turning, you noted the room also had a large alcove lined in glass shelves, every conceivable type of liquor arranged within. A wide, six-inch thick slab of oak topped the bar, the dark stain highlighting the natural textures of the wood. 

“Wow, they really get you guys the best huh?” “This some kind of Penthouse?" 

You’d only ever seen rooms like these in magazines and movies - nothing about your salary could afford you a stay in a place like this.

"Yeah, Creation shells out top dollar for Jared and Jensen.” 

Kim said it like it was obvious, but with zero hint of jealousy.

Eyebrows shooting up into your hairline, you were suddenly feeling a little intimidated. 

"I’m pretty sure my entire house would fit in this room alone." 

The sentence was a mumble to yourself, and while everyone had been nothing but welcoming, you were reminded that most of the people around you lived a very different lifestyle.

“Yeah, me too.” “C’mon, let’s go take advantage of that wet bar, shall we?”

A short glass tumbler gripped in your right hand, pomegranate juice and vodka swirled together with edible glitter was mesmerizing. Fancier than you were used to, sure, but delicious all the same. 

“So, you gonna tell me about what’s going on with Chris and Rob or do I have to keep dropping hints and waiting?” Leaning into the edge of the couch on which she sat, Kim sipped her drink, the look on her face stating there was no room for anything but acquiescence.

Shrugging, you went on to tell the woman about the dinner with Chris, and how you’d thought it was just going to be a casual thing. When you mentioned the kiss and how strange it was to have him act like nothing had happened afterwards, you could see she was intrigued. Telling her about how both men kept asking about your relationship with the other, and how Chris had been oddly possessive of you all weekend, you weren’t surprised to hear her laughing by the end.

“Oh, [Y/F/N], they’ve got it bad, don’t they?” “It’s obvious Chris is into you, especially with his behavior. What’s strange is that he’s being so coy about it. See, Rob is good at unintentionally worming his way into your heart. Chris? Not so much. He tells it like it is, I’ve never seen him hint at anything and hope someone will figure out what he means.”

“So, what are you going to do?” When you merely shrugged, she emptied her glass, and, standing from the chair, leaned over to look you in the eyes. Bracing one hand on the edge of the couch, she gave you the best advice she could under the circumstances. 

“You can’t just ignore the issue and hope it’ll magically fix itself. You need to talk to them.” “But hey, have some fun, ya know? This is supposed to be a party - c’mon, do you want another drink?”

Smiling at her frank advice, you realized she was right. You didn’t have to decide anything right this second. In fact, you didn’t have to commit to anything at all. With that thought came some semblance of relief. And suddenly, you decided to worry about potential relationships later and just focus on enjoying your Saturday night.

As midnight came and wore on into early morning, you found yourself wandering out onto the balcony, sweat beading at your temples from the exertion of dancing with the girls. The air was unseasonably warm, a light breeze bringing with it the smell of pine from the trees surrounding the hotel. When the voices inside grew louder for a split second, you turned to see Chris had followed you outside.

“Hey.” A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he approached the railing you leaned against. 

“Hey Chris, what’s up?” 

“Apparently we need to have a talk.” Turning to look back over his shoulder, you leaned around his lanky frame to see Kim waving through the window. When the man had turned back to face you, it was to see you rolling your eyes at the woman winking from the other side of the glass.

“Sure Chris, let’s talk.” The several drinks flowing through your bloodstream brought with it a certain bluntness you only possessed during such times.

Crossing arms under your breasts and staring up at the man who’d stopped only a few inches in front of you, you wondered if he’d gotten that close purposely or if, like you, he was a few drinks in and incapable of judging his distance. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier. How I have no right to be upset at you for dating Rob…and, you’re right.” “But, I–”

“I know I’m right, Chris - there’s never been an–”

The way the man looked at you just then had the sentence dying on your lips before you could finish the words. Clearly there was more he wanted to say. The smallest drop of moisture landed on your upturned cheek then, several others falling from the sky to land on the fabric of your dress. The breeze picked up then, a gentle gust dancing through the tendrils of your hair, sending the strands playing across your shoulders and back. 

Far from one to let a little rain dissuade you, you returned your attention to Chris, waiting for him to continue. When he stood there staring at you instead of talking, you tried to prompt him.

“But, what Chris?” “You’ve never had a hard time telling me exactly what you’re thinking. I mean, hell, it was your tough love that made me realize I didn’t need anyone’s approval on my work. It’s how I found my style, and it’s how I stopped waiting around for the people in my life to give me their blessing on how I should live in general.”

The moisture fell in heavier drops now, the wetness collecting on your shoulders and staining your dress a red so dark it was nearly black. Brushing the hair from your face, you waited to see if he’d say anything at all, or if he’d simply continue to stare at you.

*****

She was waiting for him to explain himself, and, as he stared down at her, he desperately wished he could. He wanted to be able to tell her that he thought about her all the time. He wanted to be able to tell her that he didn’t like her dating Rob, not because he was a bad man or that he was jealous, but because he desperately wanted to keep her all to himself. And he wanted to tell her that his interest in her had begun that fateful day all those years ago when she’d knocked him flat on his ass. But how did you tell one of your best friends that you were essentially in love with them, especially when she was intrigued by this other man. He knew Rob would be good for her, even if he told her he wasn’t. He wanted to say all of that, and yet, the words simply didn’t come. 

He was un-surprised when she sighed, realizing in that moment that as much as he said they should talk, that he either wouldn’t or couldn’t. Stepping around her friend, she was several feet away when his hand closed around her wrist, spinning the woman back into his very solid chest. Tipping her chin up with one hand, his lips were on hers before she knew how to react.

*****

Tensing, the kiss was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. Your hands exploring his chest as his lips roved over yours. Crushing your body against his warmth, he put all of the words he wanted to say into that kiss. Starting gentle, the intensity deepening with each passing moment, he brought his other hand up to join the first in cradling your face. When he stepped back a few moments later his eyebrows knit together in confusion when you laughed to yourself. 

“If that wasn’t the most cliche thing I’ve ever experienced…” Your eyes were bright with mirth as you tried to explain. Trouble was, that had been some kiss. Truth was, you were a little breathless, and maybe a little wanting more of the same. 

Pulling you into a spine-crushing hug, his scent washed over you again and you inhaled, closing your eyes and just absorbing the moment. With a reluctant sigh, you pulled away. This complicated things. While the two of you still needed to talk, you were pretty sure you knew exactly what he had to say. 

Rejoining the party, it appeared as though people had started drifting off to their own rooms, as the conversations had quieted and broken off into small clusters. Lowering yourself back onto the couch, the flames still crackled along a half-burned log, red embers glowing at their base. 

Looking around the room, you noted Clif laughing with a very inebriated Jensen and Misha. Briana, Kim and Ruth sat across from the pair with their own drinks, the conversation still flowing even as it approached two in the morning. Kicking off your shoes, you curled your feet up under your body, smoothing the dress over your legs. Eyes sliding out of focus as Chris’ kiss replayed in your mind, you startled when a set of calloused hands landed on your shoulders. Rob massaged the tense muscles for a moment before leaning over your shoulder to press a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Hey beautiful.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

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

[wildefiction]

The Beast Inside

PAIRING: Sam x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,063

SUMMARY:  Reader has been hunting with the Winchesters for several years now. She's always had a thing for Sam...not that she'd ever admit to it. But recently, Sam's been different. Cold. Calculating. Scary. When the reader witnesses what's happening, will she turn from him or will her attraction allow her to justify his new behavior?

WARNINGS: Anxiety, Trust Issues, Soulless!Sam, Murder, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Rough Sex, A Smidge of Breath Play

A/N: This was written for @hornsbeforehalos 666 Follower Challenge last year. My prompt was: 'He who makes a beast out of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man."

The metallic, copper thickness coating his tongue was simultaneously entrancing and revolting. An almost comical adaptation of small figures on ones’ proverbial shoulder. One egging him on, the other shrinking back in disgust at his newly predatory behavior. The first time it had happened Sam had woken in his bed, much like any other night - this one perhaps a little more sleepless than the rest. Shuffling down the hall to the nearest bathroom, he’d absentmindedly flicked on the light, the harsh fluorescents illuminating the space; a dull buzzing echoing around the room. Reaching for the calcium-stained faucets that lent a cool reprieve from his consistently rising body temperature, he’d first noticed the dark residue beneath his fingernails. When the water poured forth from the stainless steel spout, that residue had sloughed away - hitting the white porcelain and blossoming into crimson flowers, like some macabre art exhibit. Eyes widening, Sam caught his reflection in the mirror. Dark purple circles edged red-rimmed eyes, his hair disheveled from what he assumed had been sleep. The night terrors had prevented any semblance of rest. Delirious, he could remember nothing from the previous few days.

At first, he struggled with it. Fought against the rising panic. Blood was part of the job, maybe he’d simply forgotten to scrub beneath his nails after the last case? As the weeks wore on however, small bits of detail too sharp and mundane to be dreams lingered in the corners of his mind when he was awake. Almost like memories. Regardless of how intricate the minutia, his inability to remember entire events is what intrigued him the most. His constant struggle with the fate thrust upon him as an infant quieted in these times. There was no worry about the demon blood coursing through his veins, nor was there an ounce of shame or distress at the idea of letting his big brother down. Sam’s failures lessened and he came to embrace the idea of entire blocks of time disappearing from his conscious.  

*** 12 weeks later**

Dried flecks of crimson hit the cool, white porcelain -- the clean purity of the surface now somehow marred, tainted by the blood. Running water circled the drain, washing away any evidence of the brutality that had occured just hours before. Violet cupped her hands together beneath the flow, watching as it quickly filled the makeshift basin before raising them to splash the liquid over her fevered skin.

Three. It'd been the third body in as many days. Things were getting out of control. Violet padded from the bathroom through the dim hallway of the bunker. The twisted, black wall sconces glowed with a dull, golden glow - lighting a path to the end of the hallway where he was waiting.

Sam had been..different lately. At first Violet had figured it was an adjustment disorder. Coming back from the deepest pits of Hell could make anyone act erratically. But the more time passed, the worse Sam became.  The gentle, research-loving man she'd hunted alongside for the past three years was gone. Sure, he still looked the same, he still recognized you and Dean and even Cas but he was also a lot more calculated - almost to the point of being empty, as if there was no emotion left at all.

Raising a hand, you tentatively knocked at the solid oak door.

No answer.

Closing your eyes, you very nearly turned and just went back to your own room. It would've been easier. Steeling yourself and shaking out the nerves that prickled along your spine, you tried a second time. The echoing thud of your heartbeat almost matched the hollow sound of your fist on the barrier between you and Sam. For a moment there was silence, and then you heard it; the quiet shuffle of bare feet across thick carpet. If you were tense before, nothing prepared you for the surge of adrenaline that spread from the base of your neck through the rest of your body as the solid door opened and Sam filled its frame.

Truth be told, he'd always been imposing. Being six and a half feet tall, it was a given. His mannerisms hadn't been the only thing to change in his absence however. His entire body was different; eye level with his massive chest your mouth was suddenly dry. Almost as long as you'd known the Winchesters, you'd had a thing for Sam. He was one of those people who just didn't realize they were beautiful. You never mentioned it though, eventually settling into an easy friendship with the brothers had dampened the fire living in your belly. Sure, on occasion there was playful flirting and comments that reddened your cheeks, but little by little the winged-flutters quieted into a sort of easy contentment.

“Violet.” There was a lilt at the end of the word, almost a question as to why you stood at his door. Was his voice deeper? Had it always sounded that way? Blinking several times in rapid succession, you abandoned the thoughts trying to invade the more sensible parts of your brain. “Hey Sam, I..” “mmhm" “do you..?” “are..how are you?” Wondering exactly why you were standing before him, Sam’s lip twitched in amusement even as his eyes narrowed, the hazel irises swimming with colors you'd never noticed. Teal and spring green mixed with the more muted hues holding you captive. The man had the gall to laugh at your flustered appearance, stepping forward until his body brushed against yours. “I'm good; was about to watch a movie. Wanna join me?” That dazzling smile slid into place and you could almost believe the old Sam stood before you. Something in the back of your mind cautioned you to be wary, but it was such a small blip that you very nearly hadn’t noticed it at all.

Before Hell, the two of you would often spend the occasional quiet evening watching old, black and white television. Silent movies had always been amusing, the use of exaggerated body language providing all the dialogue needed. So, you accepted his offer; hoping against hope that it would be like old times.

Looking around the room, nothing had changed. Rows of books sat neatly on shelves flanking his large bed, the lamps alit on each end-table bathing the space in low light. Perching on the end of the mattress Violet watched Sam fuss briefly with the television before sitting next to her. “You okay?” Sam had turned to look at the girl and it didn’t take a rocket-scientist to notice her anxiety.” Hey... it’s just me, how many times have we watched movies together - hm?” Reluctantly you tabled the concerns you’d wanted to voice aloud, little by little allowing yourself to relax. Sam scooted to the head of bed and patted the space next to him. Apparently you took too long to move and he had no problems wrapping one massive arm around your waist and hauling you into the space he occupied; grunting with the effort.

The television flickered to life, shortly thereafter you realized he’d chosen Bram Stoker’s Dracula. A favorite of his. Soon, the two of you were back to laughing at the campy effects and trying to decipher messages hidden in the storyline. Legs crossed around a now empty mixing bowl that had held a mountain of popcorn, you finally relaxed against the man sitting behind you. While the position was more intimate than any you’d been in before, it didn’t feel out of place. You were simply friends enjoying each others company. Just like before.

Launching into a lively debate on the themes of the film pushed the rest of your doubt to the wayside. “I never understood this part really, why does he turn into a wolf and a bat type..thing?” “He seems to be winning her over just fine as a man.” Sam shifted into a sitting position; legs still framing your body as he leaned into you. His golden skin hot against your back - “ Sometimes , ‘He who makes a beast out of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man.’ ” His mouth brushed against your ear, the words a mere growl. Abruptly that fire was back, spreading through your limbs even as his arms tightened around your body. Teeth closing upon the lobe of one ear, the words faded into silence. “Sam, what are you doing?”

Silence.

His lips were now pressed against the thud of your pulse point. In all the years of flirting and sidelong glances, nothing had ever progressed beyond that point. “I know how you feel about me Violet.” For a brief second you wanted to deny his accusations, tell him it was all in his head. In the course of trying to figure out what to say, the silence was answer enough. “The walls are pretty thin…” he was laughing again. “Honestly though? It was sexy as fuck .” The last word was barely a groan. Turning wide eyes to meet his expression was a bad idea. The darkness was back; an expanding ring of lichen rapidly filling his normally bright eyes when he pushed his mouth to yours. The kiss exploded into wandering hands, heavy breath and snapping teeth. The comfortable embrace from earlier tightening into one that crushed your body against his, palms steady on his chest when he gripped your thighs, pulling them to straddle his lap.

The swell of his arms encircling your waist;  his thick fingers digging into your hips reminded you of the strength the man possessed. What he was capable of.

Flashes of red ripped through your mind when you allowed your eyes to fall shut and enjoy Sam’s touch.

So much blood. You were covered in it. Sam was drenched to the elbow, a broken body lay in a heap by his feet. The night was supposed to have been a fun trip out for a couple of drinks, instead becoming a grisly admission of what you had been trying to deny. Yes, the man had been lewd, his comments about your outfit leaving little to the imagination - but you had paid him little mind. Having him follow you out of the bar though..

Sam turned his attention back to you, as if what he'd done had meant nothing..

“Sam, wait a minute..Sam we nee--Aahh!” The hunter chose that moment to roll his hips, the cotton sleep pants you wore barely deflecting his intentions. “Fuhhngck me..” The words hadn't been intended for him, more of an exclamation at the situation, but Sam answered you all the same. “Oh, sweetheart I plan on it.”

And then you were on your back, a yelp of surprise escaping your lips at the sudden change. Sam's broad hands curled around your hips, flipping you to your stomach and pulling your ass in the air. You felt ridiculous, your chest pressed to the cool, inky sheets. The complaint never made it past your swollen lips, a chill breeze assaulting fevered skin when the pajama bottoms were yanked from your hips. Your body vibrated and you had only a brief moment to wonder if it was from the sudden change in temperature or the anticipation of what was to come. Sam's face nudged against your panty-covered ass, his thick, warm tongue swiping over the bit of satin and lace. Once. Then again. A deep growl accompanied his eager teasing and suddenly you forgot what you'd been about to say, instead pushing back against his roaming tongue - yearning for more.

Hot bursts of breath fanned over your delicate skin, the damp fabric between your legs clinging to you, Sam's nose brushing against it while his tongue greedily consumed everything your body offered. Fevered panting matched the beads of sweat dotting your forehead, a high-pitched whine escaping when Sam twisted his hand in the ruined silk and pulled - the sound of splitting seams and tearing fabric sending an unexpected shiver of delight through your body.

He was a monster, he deserved to die.

That's when it started. You justifying Sam's actions.

Sam's tongue flattened and dragged through your folds, the tip flicking against the swollen bundle of nerves nestled within. Closing his lips around you, he sucked in earnest while one long finger traced your inner thigh - teasing but not giving in to your pleas. “Fuck, Sam... please..” Not one, but two fingers sunk into your body then, a low groan filtering between your lips at the sound of your core accepting his ministrations.

“That's it baby...fuck you're so wet. S’that all for me?” Truth be told, Sam had wanted this for as long as he could remember. Coming back from Hell, he found most of his memories were gone. You though...you he remembered. His cock strained against the pants slung low on his hips; one palm closed over his erection, the pressure alleviating a bit of the uncomfortable sensation; his hips rutting gently against his touch, almost of their own accord.

Eyes flicking between his cock and Violet’s swollen cunt, he pulled his fingers from her body, the wet sound assaulted his ears and it took everything he had to not take her just like this.

The quickness with which Violet was on him took Sam by surprise. Not that the hunter dwelled on it for long. The woman kneeling before him was different than the Violet he thought he knew. Lust-blown pupils zeroed in on him as she dove beneath the elastic band of his scrub bottoms-turned pajama pants. There was no hesitation when she wrapped her fingers around his thick base, and he groaned at the sensation of finally having this particular dream come true.

Pushing the fabric down his muscular thighs, you wasted no time in wrapping your lips around his head, swiping your tongue across the drops of precum that dotted the surface.

Sam's hands wove themselves in your hair, his fingers flexing with the effort it took to not twist the locks in his painful grasp. He’d never hurt you. Not without you directly asking for it anyway. He knew your frustrations with him. The old him had done everything in his power to avoid killing anything. Whether the particular thing in question deserved it or not. He was a monster. He’d told himself that often enough, that he’d started to believe it. The looks Dean gave him when he thought Sam wasn’t looking only further solidified those beliefs. And so he gave the things they hunted the benefit of the doubt until he couldn’t. That was before. Now, he really couldn’t muster the strength to give two fucks whether they were innocent - the less time he spent on each case, the more cases he cou-- fuck . This girl knew how to suck cock. Sam’s head flung back, his thick auburn mane brushing his shoulders. Whimpers leaked from Violet’s lips, excess saliva and her probing tongue almost too much.

His fingers tightened more and he pulled back from her mouth, leaving the woman gasping - her eyes slow in re-focusing as she looked up at his pained expression.

Sam cupped your face, his wide hands cradling your cheeks even as he brushed tendrils of stray hair away from your wide eyes. He pulled you close then, and you became intimately aware of the heat of his lips as they descended on yours, his tongue almost gentle in its exploration of your mouth. Grabbing your waist and pulling you close, Sam’s cock brushed your belly, his brilliant eyes searching yours as you wrapped arms around his shoulders; sweat-soaked skin burning beneath your touch. Boldly you sought his attention, lining yourself up against his body, a challenge in your eyes.

When Sam trembled against you, his eyes fell shut with the effort of not moving too fast. Violet wrapped her long fingers around his length, bringing him closer and tracing the thickness of him through her folds. That was the final push Sam needed, his eyes snapped open, his grip tightening around her waist as he pushed his way into her core - the heat enveloping his cock and eagerly pulsing around him. He struggled to remain still, letting Violet adjust to the intrusion. She was eager though, clenching her walls and dragging herself up to catch his mouth with hers again almost immediately. A ragged breath flew from her lips as she cried out, “Sam, Sam move, please!” The hunter didn't need to be told twice, a growl bubbling up from his ribcage at her request - hands that had been holding her to his chest now threaded into her hair and twisted, pulling a moan of pleasure from the woman straddling his waist - “Fuck Violet..damn baby..” Coherent sentences escaped him as he rocked his hips up into her body and she met him thrust for thrust, wanton cries of pleasure filling the room around him accompanied the sounds of skin colliding against skin.

Violet’s fingers whitened around the tips as her grip tightened, nails biting into Sam’s broad shoulders as the first ripples of an orgasm passed through her, a wave of slick coating her thighs while Sam continued his onslaught. The desperate clenching of her muscles around his length caused Sam to stutter, the biting heat of her nails in his skin building layers of his own release up, his hips snapping towards her erratically as his teeth closed over the thudding in her neck. Screwing his eyes shut, the youngest Winchester bit harder, Violet’s pulse racing between his teeth as his pleasure ripped through him, thick ropes of cum spilling into her body. His forehead falling to her shoulder, Sam's arms tightened around his best friend, holding her warm body close to his.

He noted with a new curiosity the realization that he had to physically tell his brain to loosen the grip his teeth still held on her neck. A small part of him had toyed with the idea of seeing just how far he could go, wondering what the next step would be if her blood filled his mouth. Like with the others. Gingerly, Sam released his hold. He could never hurt her. The mantra lazily drifted through his mind. As she laced her fingers with his and a cautious smile tugged at the corner of her mouth - Sam hoped it would be enough.

Make no mistake, the beast inside me is sleeping - not dead.

TAGS: @arses21434 @jaredsunflowergoddess @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

[wildefiction]

Strawberry Sheets

PAIRING: Rob x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,274

SUMMARY:  When the reader blatantly ignores the rules of their new agreement, Rob must step-in to remind her what happens when she chooses chaos over order.

WARNINGS: Domestic!Kink, Dom/Sub, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Housewife!Kink, Fluff, Aftercare

A/N: This was written for @spnkinkbingo. Having never heard of this particular kink before, I dove into the Google rabbit hole and can only hope I've done the topic justice. Please heed all tags/warnings as this story contains potentially triggering sexual behavior and/or relationship roles.

Check out my 2019 Bingo Card

SQUARE FILLED: Domestic

The melodic sound of rain on glass woke you, your eyes focusing on the thick drops as they collided with the balcony doors in the room you shared with Rob. The space surrounding the bed shrouded in thick shadows, the only reprieve fought its way through the gaps in the heavy drapes flanking those same doors. It was the kind of early light that only comes before dawn; the hush of the world so at peace with itself, that time of day where even the sparrows still slept.

Fingers splaying over the warm curves of your naked body, Rob pulled you against him, his grip tightening, seeking the comfort of your presence even while he slept. He’d arrived home only hours before, coming off of a red-eye flight after a hectic four-day weekend in Vegas.

While you wanted nothing more than to stay right where you were, your mind was already buzzing with the mental to-do list you’d put together the day before. Your desire to have everything perfect for Rob’s return home eclipsed the idea of spontaneously staying in bed with the man you loved on this early Monday morning. Carefully sliding from beneath the weight of the white duvet, your feet had barely touched the floor before Rob’s arms slid back around your waist, hauling you, once again, into the warmth of his embrace.

“Don’t. Just..stay with me.”

His voice was thick with sleep even as his lips pressed themselves between your shoulder blades. Any protests you’d even entertained voicing were cut short when his free hand snaked between your thighs, his calloused fingers dancing over the smooth skin. His touch was masterful, soft and insistent simultaneously.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you..”

The sleepy cadence of his voice from moments before had slipped into something far more possessive as he pulled you closer, his hips rutting against your ass while his fingers continued their assault. Heat began to spread from where his hand worked against your body, blossoming out to travel the length of your torso. Curling up and over your breasts, your nipples tightened beneath the dichotomy of the fire burning through you and the chill of the morning; the duvet having fallen from the bed to land in a heap on the floor.

Impatient, you turned towards him, slinging one thigh across his hips.

Pushing your concentration and all of your weight into Rob’s frame, a profound shudder ran the length of your body, waves of goosebumps chasing the sensation when you pushed him to his back and settled in his lap.

You knew what the consequences of your actions would be, but maybe that's exactly why you were acting out of character. The brief shift in his expression was enough to confirm your theories, but right now you just couldn't be bothered enough to care. Right now you just needed to welcome him home.

*****

The aroma of fresh coffee and crackling bacon roused Rob from his sleep. Eyes mere slits, he focused on the digital clock glowing on the walnut nightstand next to where he lay. Ten Forty-Five. Absently, he reached out for [Y/F/N], but wasn't surprised when the space next to him was empty.

The drapes had been drawn tightly closed, so even though it was approaching mid-day, the room was darker than it had been the first time he'd been awake.

Drifting somewhere between sleep and conscious thought, Rob almost didn't hear the door open. Her bare feet quiet on the plush carpet, [Y/F/N] approached him, the smell of coffee was stronger now and it pulled him from his drowsy state. The soft clink of a ceramic mug being set on the table drew his attention. [Y/F/N] bent over the mattress, brushing Rob's messy curls to one side before placing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Good morning, Mr. Benedict.”

With a soft smile, she turned and left the room, the quiet swish of her dress fading into silence as she continued down the hall.

Coffee in hand, Rob shuffled down the wooden staircase, the second from the bottom step creaking beneath his weight, just like it always did.

Settling himself against the archway leading into the kitchen, Rob sipped at his coffee while he watched her finish breakfast. She was humming under her breath, the tune familiar even though he couldn't quite place it. His gaze roved over her body, the retro styled dress she wore clinging to her curves before flaring out to fall just past her knees. The white cotton fabric was decorated with a cheerful blend of cherries and lemons; she was taking her role very seriously. Nude stockings disappeared beneath the full skirts and red pumps rounded out her choice of attire. Why she wore shoes in the house, he couldn't say - but she looked amazing.

*****

She knew he was watching, could feel his presence. Still, she went about her task, piling his breakfast on a plate before setting it on the counter so she could remove a tray of fresh biscuits from the oven. Rob quite nearly choked on his coffee when she bent over to pull the oven door open. Her skirts rode up just enough to flash her lace topped hose, hinting at the cherry red garter they were attached to.

Continuing to hum softly, [Y/F/N] grabbed one of the fluffy biscuits and pulled it apart, steam billowing from the buttery layers. Adding it to his plate after spreading it with whipped butter, she carried it to the table before turning to face him.

“Come and eat love, I'll get you some more coffee.”

Taking the now empty cup from his hands, [Y/F/N] emptied the remainder of the carafe into it before stirring in exactly two and a half teaspoons of sugar.

Absentmindedly, Rob moved towards the table, lowering himself into one of the two chairs. He ate quietly, never taking his eyes from [Y/F/N] as she bustled about, the click of her heels echoing on the tiles beneath her feet.

Setting the mug beside his plate, you turned to cross the room, remembering the load of laundry that needed changing.

Letting yourself into the laundry room, the smell of lemon and lavender assaulted your senses. Pulling a pile of warm towels from the dryer, you dropped them on the counter before turning and opening the lid to the washer. Transferring the wet clothes to the dryer, you threw a few dryer sheets into the drum before closing the door and pressing the start button; the chime of the machine starting distracting you from the door opening behind you.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, taking you by surprise. Rob turned you to face him, his normally bright eyes had shifted to a steely blue, his intense stare fixed on your face.

“Babe, wha--?”

Squealing, your hands scrambled for purchase when his grip tightened on your hips and he lifted you off your feet. Dropping you unceremoniously atop the pile of cooling towels, Rob's mouth was on yours immediately, his hands prying your knees apart before he slotted himself between them.

“You broke the rules, and I simply cannot let that kind of behavior slide.”

Silent, your eyes scanned his, waiting for an explanation.

“What you did this morning? That little act of rebellion? I bet you thought I'd forgotten huh?

Shoving the skirt up to sit bunched around your waist, a growl bubbled up from his chest when he noticed your decision to completely forego panties.

“Oh, [Y/F/N]... really ?”

Closing his eyes, Rob sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“You're being uncharacteristically bad today...and -”

Sliding one hand up to cup your cheek, he smiled. Leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his tone hardened.

“-now…”

teeth closed over the soft skin of your ear, he groaned, “you don't get to come.”

Tracing circles around your inner thighs with the pads of his thumbs, Rob’s touch was a barely-there stroke that made your skin shiver.

“Lay back on the table [Y/F/N], I want those shoulders touching the wood.”

His fingers shifted,now tracing over your skin, just narrowly circumventing where you really wanted him to touch you.   “Don’t move from that spot...”

Lowering himself to his knees, he flattened his tongue, tasting you with one long, sure stroke. Bolting up from the table, you reached for him, a needy whine slipping from your lips. Without missing a beat, Rob’s fingers snaked out to wrap around your wrist, effectively halting you from touching him.

“Ahh, ah - what did I say?” “No moving.”

Motioning for you to resume the position you'd just been in, Rob once again lowered his face to rest between your legs. His beard was scratchy on the sensitive skin, but it only added to the experience. Rolling his eyes up to lock onto yours, he pulled away just long enough to give his next instructions:

“You will look at me while you enjoy yourself [Y/F/N]. If you break eye-contact even once, your punishment will be oh, so much worse. Do you agree to my terms?”

Not trusting yourself to speak, you could only nod. Wrapping his hands firmly around each leg, Rob spread them further before lifting each one over his shoulders; adjusting his grip to make sure you couldn't move. Staring into his dark, lust-filled expression was almost enough to make you lose yourself on the spot, and the longer you watched, the closer you came to letting go. Noticing the shift in your body, Rob smiled, a low chuckle sounding just before he pulled away. Resting the heels of your red pumps on his shoulders, he simply watched as your chest rose and fell, your breath slowly evening out as you came down from the edge of the release that you'd gotten so close to realizing.

Grabbing your hand, Rob lifted you to your feet, the pile of clean towels soundly trampled, scattered around both the table and floor. Noting the disarray, you bent to gather the discarded laundry, folding and stacking it into piles as you went. Crossing his arms over his chest, Rob leaned against the table, watching as you went back to work.

You hadn't complained, not even a little. He'd need to change that. He did love it when you begged…Stroking the edge of his lip with one thumb, Rob appeared lost in thought. The black and red flannel pants slung low around his hips were very distracting. Rob's expression focused when your knees hit the cool tile floor. Clasping your hands in your lap, you looked up at him, silently asking for his permission. He stared down at you for a moment, one eyebrow arching in consideration. The slight incline of his head confirmed his acquiescence. Leaning forward, you smoothed your hands up his thighs, the cotton material soft beneath your touch. Wrapping your fingers in the flannel, a sharp tug brought the loose pants to his ankles. Stepping from the discarded clothing, your eyes snapped to where they sat abandoned.

“Leave them.” Rob's tone was even, quiet, commanding.

Lacing his fingers in your hair, he guided your attention back to him. Sliding your palms up his thighs, you wrapped the fingers of your right hand around his thick length. Your eyes fell shut at the first taste of him, velvety and warm. Humming in contentment, you re-opened your eyes, staring up the long line of his body to meet his expression.

Mouth falling open in ecstasy, his grip on your hair tightened, fingers twisting in the strands as he fucked your mouth.

Pulling back to focus on the delicate skin beneath his head, you watched his expression change - he was trying so hard to remain in control. Wrapping one hand around the base of him, your fingers set to work while you traced patterns along his length with your tongue.

“God dammit [Y/F/N]...”

Rob's eyes remained closed, his voice strained as his rhythm began to stutter. Saliva pooled beneath your tongue when his hips snapped forward, more urgent with every pass.

Pulling back abruptly, Rob reached down and pulled you to your feet. Spinning you backwards into the table, one large hand centered in your back had your face pressed to the table, the surface cool beneath your cheek. Hoisting one of your legs up to rest next to your chin with a grunt, Rob grabbed handfuls of the cotton skirts you wore, flipping them up over your back.

The bright red garter belt framed your ass nicely, and a muffled cry fell from your lips when Rob took only a moment to gauge his position before slamming into you. Swearing under his breath, he stilled momentarily to readjust his grip before drawing himself almost completely out, filling you again immediately. Sliding one hand around to the front of your belly, his fingers danced across your belly button on their way down your body. Two fingers sliding over your clit, Rob caressed the sensitive bundle of nerves while maintaining his cadence; heat building with the friction. Sweat dappled your skin, loose ends of hair sticking to your forehead.

Breath heavy, Rob draped himself over your back, strings of expletives and praise a constant murmur in one ear.

Slowing his movements to a languid rolling of his hips, he redoubled his efforts with his fingers. As the fever in your core continued to build, you began to meet Rob's thrusts with your own. Bracing yourself on the edge of the table, you did your best to increase the pleasure coursing through your body. Abruptly, Rob stilled - fingers of his free hand tangling once again in your hair. Twisting hard, he pulled your head up and back. His pupils had dilated, the darkness almost completely eclipsing the rings of blue. The sudden, sharp crack of his hand across your ass tore a ragged cry of pleasure from your throat, your thighs drenched with your pleasure.

“What did I tell you [Y/F/N]? You will NOT come until I give you permission, and that's only if I decide you've earned it.”

Rob shifted, once again setting a brutal pace with his thrusts and increasing the tempo of his assault on your clit. His own hand now slick with with your body's indulgence, the second time it came in contact with your skin, it brought you up on your toes. Your orgasm imminent, your body reacted, tensing for release - and Rob once again stepped back, removing his touch completely.

Sweat drenched your body, the cotton dress sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Your legs shook as you tried to stand on your own, the limbs betraying your will. A broken half-sob your only reaction, you straightened, taking a moment to compose yourself before turning to face Rob. As soon as your eyes met his, you knew he wasn't finished - the challenge in his expression evident. As he reached for your hand, you hesitated, giving him pause.

With a deep breath, you stepped up to him, pressing your lips to his. Grabbing one of his hands, you pressed the long digits back where’d they’d been only moments before, a pleading whisper on your lips.

Rob had been known to drag out your punishments before, though today he happened to be feeling benevolent. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he drew you against his chest before lifting you back onto the towel-laden table. Stepping between your legs, he lined himself up and sunk back into you, his mouth slack at the feeling. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he leaned into you, the angle of his thrusts deepening.

“Okay baby, I’m going to tell you when to come...are you ready?”

With his pelvis rolling into your clit with each thrust, you were nearly there already. Nodding, you tensed. Short, panting breaths got lost in the curves of his neck as your fingers dug into his shoulders. He didn’t slow down for a second, and, combined with the talent in his hands, his rhythmic movements brought you right to the edge, ready to jump. Nudging his nose along your cheek, Rob tilted his lips up to your ear, his uneven breathing all you could concentrate on;

“Come for me [Y/F/N]...”

That one phrase was all the extra push you needed, and you shuddered as waves of pleasure washed over you. With your walls pulsing around him, Rob was quick to follow, thick ropes of come filling your belly as he stilled inside you. After a minute, Rob pulled free, stepping back and helping you down from the table. With a solid smack to your ass and a cocky grin, he left you to your chores after pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Placing the towels in a wicker basket and hefting it into your arms, you swallowed thickly, leaving Rob to his musings.

With the laundry put away, you descended the stairs, intent on doing the breakfast dishes. Arriving in the kitchen, you busied yourself with filling the sink, suds mounting as the spray from the faucet hit the liquid soap. With the plates washed and the coffee machine filled and set for the following day, you wandered through the house to the living room. The rain from earlier had stopped, the sky now a beautiful sun-streaked grey.

Rob was perched on the couch, his legs crossed beneath him. The tattered white t-shirt he’d pulled on since he’d left the laundry room stretched over his back, pooling in his lap. It'd definitely seen better days. Despite the fact that small holes littered the fabric, he always insisted it was the most comfortable shirt he owned and he'd specifically told you not to throw it out, regardless of how much you tried to reason with him. Dark, rectangular glasses perched on the edge of his nose, his bright eyes focused on the notebook before him, an acoustic guitar rested in his lap. Plucking several notes across the strings, he'd play, rearrange the order and scribble notes before resuming his work. You loved his music, his voice the most beautiful thing in the world in your opinion, but it was entirely possible you were just a touch biased.

Padding over the the other side of the couch, you lowered yourself onto the opposite set of cushions, drawing your feet up underneath you, much as Rob had. Remaining quiet, you simply watched him work; fascinated by his skill. After several minutes, he looked up, a shy smile crossing his face. Lifting the spiral-bound notes from the cushion beside him and setting them on the coffee table, he took a moment to set his instrument aside as well. Sliding closer to you, he removed his glasses, dropping them next to his book and pen. With a sigh, he turned, scooting down the couch so he could lay his head in your lap. A wistful expression had him closing his eyes as you began to comb your fingers through his hair, the dark curls peppered with grey.

“Will you sing for me?”

Rolling his eyes up to search your face, he smiled. The song wasn't one you knew, but it was beautiful, as all of his songs were. Even in your lap, he put his everything into the music. It was sort of soft, the words twisting through the small space between the two of you, weaving their own narrative. Enchanted, you closed your eyes, humming along under your breath to what would become the first song he’d ever write for you, though certainly not the last.

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

[wildefiction]

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