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ehstarwar · 5 years ago

Text

flesh stays no farther reason (2/6)

It takes three weeks for him to contact her again.

A one word text after only one night of fucking (albeit, glorious, life-altering, religion-defying fucking) shouldn’t make her heart flutter the way it does now.

Five times Ben looks for Rey and the one time she finds him.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.7K

Read on AO3

rank sweat of an enseamed bed

It takes three weeks for him to contact her again.

She’s just gotten home from what is, quite possibly, the most draining shift she’s had this year, when the notification brightens her phone, and subsequently, her day.

From u/KyL0_R3N

Hi.

A one word text after only one night of fucking (albeit, glorious, life-altering, religion-defying fucking) shouldn’t make her heart flutter the way it does now.

From u/R3yoflight

hey

From u/KyL0_R3N

How have you been?

From u/R3yoflight

good, for the most part

work sucks, but thats just the way it goes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

hbu?

meeting go well??

From u/KyL0_R3N

I’m glad you’re doing good. Sorry about work.

I know how that can be, unfortunately.

The meeting did go well. Thank you for asking.

I’m sorry I didn’t call you after our night together.

Rey stares down at her phone, not knowing how to respond.

The morning after their night together was a point of contention in Rey’s mind. On one hand, it was a hook-up. An old-fashioned, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am hook-up that just so happened to be between two thoroughly compatible people. They had barely even talked to one another. She hadn’t made fun of his stupid, clearly made-up name, hadn’t teased him for his large ears that she found too endearing, she hadn’t even gotten his actual phone number.

But… it was so, so sweet.

The way he had handled her was not that of an impassive man looking to get off and get going. It was of someone who knew how to take care of another, who wanted to take care of her. The gentleness of his lips from the last time they kiss will forever be burned into her brain.

Part of her had expect get a call the next day, with Kylo confessing that he had the same butterfly feeling she did. After a few days past and she hadn’t received so much as a new post alert on reddit from him, she decided to push back the feelings into a tight corner of her mind that was slowly filling up with emotions she wasn’t ready to unpack.

From u/R3yoflight

it’s nbd, i know how hook-ups go

don’t feel bad

From u/KyL0_R3N

I think it is a big deal, but I know what you mean.

I would like to see you again.

Would you like to see me?

Would she? Would she even survive being with Kylo Ren again?

Rey decides its all comes down to attitude, and she’ll go in with a better one this time.

From u/R3yoflight

yeah, i would

u have another big meeting u need to prep 4?

It takes him a whole 10 minutes to respond, a first for him.

From u/KyL0_R3N

Sure.

What about the 8th?

Does that work for you?

From u/R3yoflight

i work the 7th and the 8th, but the hotel we

were at last time is p close to my job

i could meet you there and just pack stuff

for work

From u/KyL0_R3N

We can do another date so you don’t have to do that.

From u/R3yoflight

nah

i don’t want u to have to move ur meeting

so im good if ur good

From u/KyL0_R3N

Of course.

I’m good, too.

From u/R3yoflight

🤗🤗🤗

Rey bounces the ball of her foot on the hard concrete beneath her, watching the clock with rapt attention. The minutes seem to slow the further she got into the day, making the last hour and a half feel like an eon. Plutt had already barked at her to make herself useful somewhere, but there’s only so much to do when they’re down cars for the day.

The moment the clock strikes 5:30, Rey is out of the shop like a bat out of hell. She thinks about stopping in some bathroom and changing into a skirt or dress or at least some clean underwear, but she can’t bring herself to waste that much time.

She want’s to see Kylo. Desperately.

The wall she’d constructed around all her curiosities from their last meeting had come crumbling down with the promise of a second one, and this time, she was determined to know a little bit more about the man in question.

He’d sent her the room number a few hours ago, letting her know to meet him there whenever she got off work. Her mind had already begun reeling in the possibilities of tonight by that point, and it only added gas to the flame.

There’s a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead when she walks into the lobby, and a few things become apparent at once.

One, the hotel is full to the brim with people who look like they make in an hour what she makes in 5 years.

Two, she absolutely should have taken the time to change into something that wasn’t the grease-stained overalls that had seen much better days, probably long before she’s fished them out of a bin at the goodwill.

Three, the doorman (with white gloves) looked moments away from calling the cops on her.

“Excuse me, miss,” the doorman says, walking up to Rey. She gulps and prays with every fibre in her being that he’ll just inform her she dropped something and let her go on her merry way. “May I ask if you’re staying at this establishment?” His tone isn’t accusatory… yet.

“Um… sort of? I’m meeting someone,” She explains. A few of the posh guest are trying to remain inconspicuous as they attempt to hear what’s going on. It makes her cheeks burn red.

“Ah, well, the bar is downstairs and… there is a dress code.”

Rey has felt small plenty of times before in her life. This is nothing new.

“He’s in his- our room, already,” She tells him, keeping her eyes on the doorman and actively ignoring the now-open stares of the lobby. The doorman’s eyes narrow.

“Why don’t you check in with the front desk to make sure you have the correct room number, shall we?” Without waiting for her response, the man moves his arm and begins walking her to the far end of the lobby, where beautiful women in black blazers stare on at her.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary. I’ll just call Kylo and tell him I can’t-“”

“I beg your pardon?” The blood runs out of the face of the doorman. “What did you say your friend’s name was?”

“Kylo. He’s upstairs but I don’t want to bug-”

“My apologies, Miss. I had no idea that Mr. Ren was expecting guest. Allow me to escort me to your suite-”

“That’s really not necessary. I’ll just go now-”

“Rey?”

Her whole body freezes as his voice cuts across the lobby. She doesn’t turn to look at him, instead still focusing on the now queezy-looking doorman. She feels his presence come up beside her, and the warm, large hand come to rest on her lower back.

“Is everything alright?” He asks.

The doorman looks at her with wide eyes and a pleading stare.

“Everything was fine, I was just coming upstairs.” The lie rolls off her tongue and she hopes she sounds convincing. Rey finally glances upwards to look at Kylo, maybe to flash him an ill-advised smile and silently say ‘lets go please.’

It is striking just how beautiful he is, especially after so long without seeing him. His hair looks even more perfect now than she was remembering it, but Rey assumes that her imagination will never quite compete with the real thing.

“You we’re taking a while and I got nervous. I’m glad I came down when I did.” His eyes shoot over to the doorman who looks moments away from passing out, so she acts quickly.

“Well, I’m here. Let’s get going, please.” Rey takes both her hands and pushes against the solid bark that is his chest, and Kylo eventually complies, but still sending a death glare the the rest of the hotel staff.

When she’s finally pushed them into the elevator and they’re blessedly alone, Rey takes a deep breath of relief. For as poorly as that interaction went, it could’ve gone much worse.

“What did he say to you?”

Kylo’s voice is low and sends the wrong kind of nervousness to her gut.

“He was just making sure I was in the right place. He had every right to ask what I was doing here. I mean, I know how I’m dressed and how I look, so if we could just move on-“”

“No one should speak down to you, no matter how you’re dressed, Rey. It isn’t okay.”

“But it is!” She snaps. “Because I know people in the service industry are just doing what their told and that guy is probably underpaid as is and his boss would have reprimanded him if he’d said nothing, so it’s fine!”

Kylo stays silent beside her and she can’t bring herself to look at him. The elevator takes it’s time, crawling to their floor, but blessedly does not stop to board anyone else.

“You were going to leave, weren’t you?” He asks, voice suddenly much smaller than it was a moment ago.

“I just don’t want to be a problem for anybody. For you, for the doorman, for… I probably should leave, even now,” Rey admits. For an evening she was so looking forward to, it really is going sour.

Rey feels a hand come around her cheek and gently guide her to look up at him. His expression is softer now and his lips have that delicious pout that she should absolutely not be thinking about kissing right now.

“You’re not a problem.”

Kylo stares down at her with such intensity, she thinks she’ll melt right then and there.

The elevator chime breaks them from their reverie and Kylo steps out into the hallway. He holds his hand out for her, looking at her with a question. Giving her an option. You can go back down and leave right now and just remember Kylo Ren fondly for the rest of your life or you can go with him right now and see whatever else this bizarre experience will give to you, her mind says.

Rey makes up her mind and takes his hand.

She’s on him the moment he closes the door behind them. No warning, no hesitation; just Rey pouncing on Kylo. She kisses him so deeply, the way she’s thought about for the last 3 and a half weeks, that she can feel it in her toes. For his part, Kylo doesn’t seem all that surprised. He scoops her up in his arms the moment she’s between them, making Rey’s heart flutter.

He holds her up, not pinned to anything and just lets her make out with him. Suspended in air, only holding onto him, hands touching any part of him she can reach; it’s delicious.

“We should… go to… the bed…” He says between kisses. Rey whines into his mouth (why, she’ll never know).

“No… here…” She breaths against his lips.

Kylo immediately lowers them to the floor, and holds himself above her. The carpet is plush against her back and is almost softer than the old futon she’s been using as a bed for the last few years.

“You… deserve a bed…” He says, while quickly undoing the buttons to her overalls. She’s trying to help him, but her hands get distracted by the growing hardness between his legs.

“What this… here is good…” She tries to say. She’s not sure if this would make sense to anyone outside of the two of them, but she’s can’t care at the moment.

The second the last button comes undone, Kylo focuses on getting her completely bare. He practically rips off every piece of clothing on her body, until she’s left only in her tube socks. When her hands go to take them off, he stops her.

“Leave it,” Kylo orders. Rey feels herself gush.

Once she’s in the perfect state of undress, Kylo doesn’t even bother taking off the rest of his clothes. He just opens his belt and fly, taking out his beet-red cock and pumping it a few times.

“… Missed your cunt…” He says against her lips as he slides the head of his cock over her core. She’s squirming under him, trying to force him to put it inside of her. “… so tight and wet for me…and you’ll just… let me make a mess of it, huh? Let me fuck it ‘till it’s… molded to me… full of my come…”

She arches her back, pressing her chest into the coarse fibers of his shirt. His hands go to hold down her abdomen as he slides himself into her, stretching her out every bit of the way.

The drag of him makes Rey delirious; like Kylo is reaching a part of her that hasn’t existed until he came into her life. If she thought that her body would be more accepting of him since last time, she would be wrong.

“… take me so fucking well, baby…” Kylo breaths, making Rey clench. He whimpers at the sensation. Her hands go up to his neck, one holding him there and the other rubbing the shell of his ear. His whole body trembles beneath her touch. He grips the underside of her thigh, as a warning almost, before pounding into her.

Full force, no hold-backs, pounding her right into the floor. She’s sure he’ll have to tip housekeeping very well this time around.

With every stroke, Kylo make Rey feel split in two. He bumps her cervix more often than not, and her clit rubs deliciously on the metal of his belt buckle. The hard, cold metal feels so good and so rough that Rey is reduced to muffled cries and moans agains his skin.

He bites more hickeys into her chest and shoulders, deeper and harder than the ones last time. Her chest will be covered in purple marks of Kylo for a long time to come and she loves it. Her legs wrap around to his back, squeezing him. His movements become messy and uncoordinated and she knows he’s close, just from the sounds he’s making above her. Rey does nothing to stop her oncoming orgasm, just letting the feeling wash over her as she convulses beneath Kylo.

He with her the next moment, come spilling out of him like the grunts spilling from his mouth. His hips still thrust, harder and more infrequent, like he’s making his final claim on her body. She lets him manhandle her as she feels a warm, sloshing heat in her core.

Kylo rest on top of her as their breathing slows. Rey feels a twinge of carpet burn on her back and her ass but ignores it. Kylo’s hands have found their way to her sides, nearly engulfing her waist. They slide up her arms until they find her hands, and interlocks their fingers together.

He plants warm, wet kisses on her sternum, up her throat, and eventually her lips. Rey smiles into the kiss.

Then, as if called, her stomach growls so loud, Kylo stills. He pulls back to look down at her with a quirked eyebrow. She bites her lip and her cheeks would be red from embarrassment if they weren’t already red from their fucking.

“… would you like dinner?” He asks. She nods.

The wet ends of her hair tickle the back of neck, so she pushes it out of the robe. The water pressure in the massive shower was enough for Rey to sell her soul, but the burger she’s currently devouring is coming in at a close second.

After their entryway tryst, Rey had happily jumped into the shower while Kylo had ordered them dinner, assuring her that she could order both the Tomato Bisque and french fries as her side.

When she’d gotten out and into the plush robe, Rey had found Kylo on one side of the bed, some nascar race on the TV, and him biting into his too-raw-for-her-taste steak.

It was a beautiful sight.

She’s sitting at the edge of the bed, Kylo on the other side and a few feet away from her, both watching the television. It’s too quiet for how loud her head is right now, so she can’t help the word vomit that forms.

“What do you mean when you say you’re in tech?” She asks, eyes still on the television screen.

“I work in research and development for a technology company,” he tells her, unhelpfully.

“What does that even mean?” She can’t help but sound exasperated.

“My job is to come up with the next best gadget or update and figure out a way to make it work,” he says as he shifts on the bed. Rey still hasn’t looked at him.

“Must be hard to be successful in that field right now… I mean, First Order pretty much has a monopoly on any techie thing out there.”

Kylo chuckles.

“I wouldn’t exactly say monopoly… but yeah. But I still make do.”

Rey hums while chewing.

“Do you like working at an auto shop?” He asks, after a few moments of silence between them. She shrugs.

“I like fixing things, so that parts nice, but… my boss sucks.”

“Why don’t you go work somewhere else?” Rey can’t stop the sharp ‘ha!’ that escapes her.

“I’m a young, female mechanic, with no higher education degree, who’s immigration status is tenuous at best, who can barely afford her half of a shithole of an apartment. I’m not the bright, shining pupil that most places would want to take on.”

She finally looks back over at Kylo, who seems to be in thought while polishing off the rest of his food.

“If you’re struggling financially, I could-”

She cuts him off. “No. That’s not what this is about.” The burger suddenly taste like ash in her mouth, so she sets the rest of it down. “I make due on my own. I don’t need a… benefactor.” This makes him chuckle, causing Rey to give him an incredulous look.

“Sorry, sorry…” He chuckles, “It’s just… benefactor? I at least think I would be deserving the title of sugar daddy.” Rey rolls her eyes and throws a soggy french fry at him. He catches it and eats it right away.

“I don’t need a benefactor or sugar daddy. But… thank you.”

They fall silent for a while before Kylo gets up and removes the trays from their room. Rey scoots back, laying herself in the middle of the bed between the mountain of pillows. When Kylo returns, he stays at the foot of the bed, watching Rey. They say nothing, just keep heavy eye contact with one another.

Her eyes rake down his form, shirtless with some joggers on. She doesn’t see a band of underwear so she hopes that means he’s going without.

Feeling bold, she pushes herself up and craws her way across the bed to him. When she’s finally in front of him, she goes on her knees so that they’re eye level. Her hands trace the muscles in his arms and chest, dipping down to his toned abdomen. Rey feels his eyes on her face the entire time, but looks down to wherever her hands go to next.

“I didn’t get the opportunity to ride you, last time,” her eyes flick up to his, “I think we should rectify that.”

Kylo doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking at her with that intense gaze that could kill a lesser woman. His hands come up to push the robe off her shoulders, pooling around her calves and revealing her naked body.

His hands brush up her sides as they make their way to her jaw, and when he’s finally got a hold of her, he kisses her. It’s slower than any of the ones they shared earlier, and reminds her of that goodbye kiss from last time; the sweetest nectar that she’ll never be able to perfectly replicate with anyone else.

The kiss deepens and Kylo crawls into bed with her. They move until she’s situated over him, straddling his stomach. His hands kneed her ass, pushing the flesh until she’s sure it’ll bruise. She allows herself to grind on him, making his abs slick with her want. His hands suddenly let go of her, and she feels him go to push off his joggers.

Rey kisses his neck, remembering what he said in all those earlier messages about liking both giving and receiving hickeys. So she bites. He gasps.

When he’s finally naked, Rey reaches around to pull at him. He’s already so hard and dripping that Rey gets a little swell of pride. She takes him in hand once she scoots back, and holds him center with her. She glides down on him, slick enough to take him in one go.

His whole body is flushed, his lips even poutier than normal, his breath coming out in spurts.

“Why… do I aways feel… like you’re holding back… whenever you… get your cock… in me,” She asks between shallow thrust. Kylo tips his head back as his hands go to hold her hips.

“Rey… your cunt… I could fucking come right now. I don’t care if we have sex every day for the next year… your cunt is like a vice. I could come in you right now… fuck…” Rey smiles down at him, proud to see this big man reduced to the puddle he’s currently in. It’s as endearing as it is hot.

She starts to move in earnest, riding him with her whole body. She eats up the sounds he makes, his praises of ‘good girl’ and ‘riding daddy’s cock so well.’

Without her asking, Kylo brings a thumb to her clit, moving in time with her thrust, making her yelp. “Need you… to come… with me…” He breaths. Rey nods as she adjust her angle, making him hit the spot in her that’s guaranteed to get her there in no time.

Her hips can’t keep up with his thrust, so their movement become sloppy, until Kylo takes charge and starts guiding her and slamming up into her.

“… So perfect… riding my cock like a good girl… you’re so fucking hot… like this…” He says, but his praises are lost on her as she’s thrown over the edge. Rey complies into him and Kylo catches her, still pistoling his hips into her. He comes after a few more thrust, biting into her skin like last time.

Rey rides out the last of her orgasm while he’s still pulsing inside of her. Her hands still grip at his shoulders and Kylo wraps his arms around her back and hold her there. She feels the warm rush of fluids dribbling out of her, and Rey knows he can feel his own come dripping back down his cock, but he makes no indication that they need to move.

They stay like this so long, Rey cradled against Kylo’s chest, feeling so safe and warm and wanted, that she falls into the deepest sleep.

She’s groggy when she wakes. Kylo has maneuvered them so that she’s tucked under his arm, halfway covering his torso. He’s snoring lightly and the rise and fall of his chest is oddly soothing. She lays there for a while, hours maybe, but isn’t able to fall back asleep.

Rey busies herself by looking at him unashamedly. Kylo is built, to say the very least. His arms are thick with muscle, and even relaxed, his stomach looks well toned.

Why did he need to post that on reddit? She thinks. He’s beautiful. He could get anyone just off his looks, let alone his wallet.

Eventually he stirs, hands instantly seeking her out, and head going into the crook of her neck and nuzzling there. His hair tickles her, making her giggle lightly against him as he holds her even closer.

“What time is it?” He asks, voice muffled by her skin. She glances at the clock across from her.

“6:27… I’ll need to leave in an hour,” she says. Her voice is quiet and she feels a slight, almost imperceptible shift in his body language. She brings her hands up, running her fingers through his hair, hoping he’ll relax back again.

Neither of them say anything for a while, and it’s becoming very clear that their form of intimacy is best experienced in silence. It should concern her how quickly they’re forming habits. It’s probably one of the first things he wanted to avoid when making that post.

But the sound of soft rain hitting the window, the warmth of the expensive sheets, the feel of Kylo’s body pressed against hers, makes it very hard for Rey to feel sorry for anything.

They shower together, after she came up with some half-hearted excuse that it would save time and water, but he makes no sexual advances on her, so she doesn’t try and pester him. Would it be nice to end their tryst with some wet shower sex or even mutual oral? Sure, but Rey didn’t want to push her luck. She was glad enough to spend this time with him, even if neither of them were getting off.

When they’re both dry and dressed, him in a perfectly tailored suit and her in the same greasy overalls from yesterday, he takes her hand. She had been reaching for her bag, but lost momentum halfway through when he touched her.

“I… don’t want to go another three weeks without seeing or hearing from you again,” he tells her.

“You can call me? I’ll give you my number. I work usually six days a week, but sometimes I’ll have a few days off in a row, so… we can meet up then, if you’re… up for it?” She tells him. Something in his face falls, but she doesn’t quite know where to place it.

“…That would be… yeah. We should exchange numbers.”

He passes him her phone as she does the same, putting in her number with the little purple devil emoji beside it because he probably doesn’t have any emojis in his contacts and she wasn’t him to remember her. Not that she’s overly concerned with that happening, but, it’s always better to be safe.

When they exchange phones again, she looks down to see the contact he’s placed, but looks back up at him, confused.

“Ben Solo… what’s that?”

“Me… well, my real name. I haven’t gone by it in a while but… I just wanted you to know it,” he tells her. Rey’s lips tremble. You are not going to cry because he told you his real name, she chides herself. It is the absolute bare minimum to do, so you will not read into it more than you should.

“Well…” She begins, looking down at the phone again because looking in his eyes is too much right now, “It is a very nice name. Certainly more realistic than Kylo Ren.”

Ben has the wherewithal to look a little sheepish at her teasing. He brings a hand through his hair and smiles at the floor.

“It was something I liked when I was a teenager and became too rebellious for my own good. It was my first aol email,” He says. Rey laughs as she imagines a gangly 13-year-old Ben running home to his computer every day after school and changing his AIM status to some moody-angst ridden lyric of a bad he thought was too cool for mainstream.

When the laughter dies down and Rey is able to look at him without bursting into giggles, she thanks him.

“Thank you for last night. And for… telling me your name.” He smiles at her, and puts a hand on her jaw, tilting her head further up. Before he can bring her into another soul-melting kiss, she speaks again.

“Ben is a very nice name but… I think I prefer calling you daddy.”

His grin is wolfish.

#reylo #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #daisy ridley #adam driver #sw #starwars #fanfiction #fan fic #smut #fluff #fsnfr #chapter 2 #my work

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rafestyles · 6 years ago

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“oh, it was live?” | david dobrik

Requested? Yes: You are honestly the best writer I’ve come across! Please consider possibly writing an imagine about David dobrik that is friends to lovers where he takes you to a movie premiere but all the reporters assume ur his gf and it’s awkward but then later he admits to you he wishes you did come as his date

A/N: whoa look who’s back from the dead !! lmao. i never write for any of the requests i get anymore but i read this one and the idea wouldn’t leave my head. so everyone welcome back, me, dobrikstyles. (also, THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE SWEET COMPLIMENT)

——-

being best friends with david dobrik is not at all what it is hyped up to be among his fans.

yes, you get invited to parties.

& yes, you’ve been able to meet so many cool celebs.

but, the man (child) is actually a psychopath. (you and the rest of the vlog squad are still trying to convince shane dawson to do a series on proving that, but that’s not the point right now.)

in all honestly, he really was great. just sometimes he looked at you with his (sweet) puppy dog eyes and begged you to do something for him.

thankfully, today he was only trying to convince you to come to a movie premiere with him, not trying to convince you to shoot one of the boys with a paint ball gun (for the twentieth time).

“y/n.. please. no one else will go with me & jack says i can’t make any excuse to get out of this one” he groans, throwing his body back against the love sac to look at you upside down, a small pout forming on his lips.

“oh fuck off. good to know i’m your last option” you scoff, crossing your arms across your chest, as you sit on the couch.

he quickly sits up, shaking his head. “no, no- fuck. that’s not what i mean, y/n.”

you shake your head back at him, rolling your eyes teasingly, “mhm.”

“y/n. please come with me. i’ll buy you - fuck, i don’t know,” he pauses as he bites his lip in thought, “i don’t fucking know. whatever you want. just please come with me.”

you raise a single eyebrow at him, “hmm... anything?” you smirk.

he nods hesitantly, a look of fear on his face.

“okay. buy me a tesla.” you state.

he opens his mouth in shock, “y/n- c’mon. what - fuck. is that - god, y/n. is that really what you want? fuck, i gotta call ian. he’s not gonna be happy, he just helped me buy that fucking ferrari.”

you watch him panic and look for his phone, muttering to himself. you throw your head back in laughter after a few minutes, “fuck, david, no, i’m seriously kidding. i don’t want a fucking tesla, of course i’ll go with you. don’t you realize you don’t have to bribe me with money or gifts anymore? we’re friends, dave.”

he stops his frantic searching for his phone and glares up at you, “fuck you, y/n y/l/n.”

“ah, ah, ah,” you sing, shaking your finger at him, “i wouldn’t be talking to me like that after i just willingly decided to go to a movie premiere with you, mister david dobrik.”

he reluctantly shuts his mouth, holding back any other remarks he was planning on making at you. you smirk, “good. now, what do i need to wear?”

——

a couple of days later finds you at david’s house again, this time getting ready in natalie’s room for the movie premiere.

“and why can’t you go with him?” you sigh, putting the last finishing touches of makeup on your face.

you watch natalie roll her eyes in the mirror, “because, y/n. i’m getting over having the flu. i have explained this to you four times already.”

you sigh again, turning around and facing your friend on the bed, “i know, nat. it’s just - is it weird that i’m nervous?”

you nervously mess with some of your dress as you continue talking, “like - i know i’ve done this before, but the rest of you guys have been there, or at least someone else has gone. but this time it’s just him and i, and you know -“ you pause, groaning slightly.

“i know you have a huge, giant, massive crush on the literal psychopath in the next room?” she teases quietly.

you groan even louder, “shut the fuck up. if you weren’t sick, i would beat the shit out of you right now.” you joke, pushing at her leg.

“i’d like to see you try, y/n. but listen, friend to friend, you’re gonna be fine. like i’ve told you thousands of times - yet you still refuse to believe - he likes you too. i’m sure he’s just as nervous, if not more nervous than you right now. so seriously, you’re gonna be fine.”

you roll your eyes, “stop fucking saying that. he doesn’t like me. i would know.”

she rolls her eyes right back at you, mumbling under her breath, “yeah, you would think you would know.”

——

you step into david’s tesla, sitting in the passenger seat, “thank god we’re not taking the ferrari, i couldn’t deal with my hair messing up right before we go in front of hundreds of photographers.” you joke, buckling up.

you finally turn around and make eye contact with david, who quickly turns his head down, a soft blush high on his cheek bones.

“you, um - you look good, y/n. really good.” he mumbles, starting the car.

“fuck off, david.” you joke, trying not to make it too evident in your voice that you’re actually freaking the fuck out inside.

“i guess you do too.” you say, almost too quietly.

he giggles softly, “fuck off, y/n.”

——

your nerves had finally started to wear off in the car with david, you actually almost forgot you were about to step out into a media frenzy, until you actually did, and the nerves hit you all over again.

you turned to david, panic evident in your eyes.

he rests his hand on the small of your back, leaning forward to whisper in your ear (it was very loud, okay.) “hey, you’re good. they’ll just take pictures and i have to do like one interview. it will be fine.”

you take a deep breath, making eye contact with him and nodding your head, “we’re good. it’s fine. i’m fine. why are we even still standing here? let’s go dobrik.” you ramble, grabbing his wrist and dragging him up to the (red) carpet.

he laughs (yes the cute vlog one), and follows after you.

his interview is with someone from ET (Entertainment Weekly). you stand off to the side, holding his camera and watching some celebrities walk past you, and glancing at david every now and then.

you weren’t paying much attention to the interview until you heard your name.

“so, david. i see you brought y/n here with you tonight, although she’s only in a few of your vlogs.” she says in a suggestive tone.

you continue to look the other way to not make it obvious you were listening in.

“well, i mean, everyone else was busy, so she was my last option.” he jokes, laughing at himself.

you try your very hardest not to roll your eyes at the boy and make a snarky comment back.

“no, no. i’m kidding. she’s great.” he says, not actually answering her question.

“oh c’mon, david. give us all the details! is she your new GF,” (who actually says the letters like that instead of the whole word anyways?), “she’s pretty cute and i know some fans have been speculating!! what’s the tea?!” she fishes.

you glance at david for a split second, noticing his hesitancy, “i mean - no. she’s not my girlfriend,” he pauses, “yeah - no. we’re not dating.”

your stomach burns with a million different types of emotions, and you can’t pinpoint what any of them actually are.

“that was a strange way to answer that, david dobrik,” the interviewer jokes.

he shrugs, glancing over at you to make sure you’re not listening, his famous grin over taking his face once again as he leans in to whisper to the interviewer, “how about you ask me that question again the next time i see you?” he suggests, causing your brain to short-circuit and your heart to start racing.

shit. you really had to pretend you didn’t hear him now. what the fuck does that even mean anyways?

you were too lost in your own thoughts to even realize that the man of all your inner turmoil was standing in front of you.

“earth to y/n. you good?” he waves his hand in front of your face, pouting when you slap it away.

“yes i’m good. how did that interview go anyways?” you ask, nonchalantly.

he shrugs, a fond smile on his face, “good. you ready to head in?” he nods his head towards the entrance.

you nod, “lead the way, dobrik.”

——

after the premiere, you were sitting in david’s passenger seat again, heading home.

you finally fished your phone out of your dress pocket, unlocking it to (what felt like) a million and one notifications.

“what the fuck?” you mumble to yourself, thumbing through them.

“everything okay?” david asks from the drivers seat, glancing over towards you.

you begin reading all of the notifications, only to find one common thing among them: The Clip of David Talking About You in the Interview ™️. (which you had efficiently blocked from your memory, thank you very much).

you hadn’t realized david peeking over your shoulder until you heard him speak, “fuck. it was live?” he groans, and as you turn to look at him, you notice the blush rising on his cheeks.

“david dobrik. what the fuck is this?”

he bites his lip, parking the car, (which made you realize you had actually arrived at his house already).

“i may or may not have made the interviewer believe that i may or may not have a crush on you?” he says in a high-pitched tone. “and she may or may not have asked me if you were my girlfriend and i may or may not have suggested that she asked me the next time she saw me?”

you stared blankly at the boy you (somehow) had a giant crush on, “and why, david dobrik? would you ever do something like that?”

“because i may or may not have a giant, massive crush on you, and i may or may not have been planning on asking you on a date soon?” he tilts his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut a little, a hopeful smile beginning to form on his face.

you don’t say anything for a minute, allowing the tension to get heavier. after finally deciding to break the tension, you say, “well, which one is it?”

he looks at you with a confused expression on his face.

“which one is it, dobrik? may or may not?”

a smile begins overtaking his face once again, as he glances down before looking up at you again, “may,” he whispers quietly. “i mean - i was - am. i am planning on asking you on a date soon, and by soon i mean, right now.”

you blush softly, grinning at him and nodding at him in encouragement to continue speaking.

“y/n y/l/n, will you please do me, david dobrik, the honor of going on a date with me?”

your grin (somehow) gets wider, and you nod at him once again, “fucking finally.” you cheer.

——

a couple of months later, finds you and david in (almost) the same scenario again, except this time, when the interviewer from ET asks if you and david are dating, you get to squeeze his hand, and nod along with him as he says,

“yes, after fuc - oops. after forever, yes, we finally are.”

#david dobrik #vlog squad #davids vlogs #the vlog squad #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik fanfiction #david dobrik fanfic #david dobrik imagines #david dobrik fanfictions #david dobrik fanfics #natalie mariduena #david x reader

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early-sxnsets · 6 years ago

Text

Scales, Fins, and other Fishy Daydreams

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43151156

Chapter 3/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 1553

Chapter Summary: Baz takes Simon's shitpost text a step further, and the outcome ends up spreading a few rumors.

SIMON

bi-sammy: sammy would still fuck huxley if he looked like the fish from shape of water

I grin smugly at my screen, sitting in a dark room with nothing shining but my mobile. The shutters stay shut, and the light from the bottom of the doorway barely filters into the room. It’s just me, this scratchy blanket, and Baz, somewhere else in England on another screen. I absolutely adore that.

gaystrell: why would you say something so controversial yet so brave.jpg

Sometimes, I catch myself smiling. Other times, I elect to ignore how real it feels. It’s weird, given that it feels like I’m just chatting with someone who I see everyday. The casualness of this reminds me of texting Penny in the afternoon on a Thursday.

Except, given the current time, it could be interpreted as more intimate than that of a friend’s text.

8am on a Saturday is usually a time reserved for comfort. For staying warm with someone you care about. Instead, I’m just messaging Baz.

bi-sammy: because im right

bi-sammy: hear me out here ive got a brilliant idea

gaystrell: whoever taught you the definition of a brilliant idea was clearly misleading you

bi-sammy: dont be an arse until youve heard it

bi-sammy: wanker

gaystrell: you’re truly proving your point

bi-sammy: ANYWAY

bi-sammy: shape of water au

bi-sammy: thats all

gaystrell: i’m appalled.

gaystrell: hold on.

I don’t think much of it. Occasionally, he disappears for an hour to two. I don’t bother asking, assuming it’s none of my business, but I do tend to worry a bit. I hope he’s alright.

After clicking off my phone, my head settles against my pillow as my eyes fall shut.

There’s something about this. There’s something about him. It’s a bit hard to pinpoint what it is, but the overwhelming feeling of comfort I have in the notifications I get from him just answering my bullshit is incredibly welcomed. He’s semisweet. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier, but he’s a fantastically bitter person.

My head slowly turns over, eyes opening and straining in the darkness.

I hate my empty room.

I hate the absence of comfort--I hate the plainness of these walls.

I want to say I hate my foster dad, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to say that. Not because the system will take me again and throw me back (even though I could have left a year back, if I was still in it). Instead, I feel like I shouldn’t hate him. Theoretically, I should be thankful for what I have. I’m not in a boy’s home, and I haven’t been since I was 11, but the remnants remain. The fights don’t go away, and neither do the weeks of starvation.

Still, I sort of despise living here under Davy.

That’s what he makes me call him. His name. His nickname. Not dad; of course not dad. He’s had me in his care for roughly six years, but he’s still Davy to me.

Shitty fucking Davy, with his strict curfews and practically using me as a housemaid because he’s too cheap to care for himself.

Shitty fucking Davy, not letting me add anything to my room because the day I turn 18, I’m out of here until his next kid (and cheque, apparently) come in. Told me I’d wreck the walls and ruin his furniture if I did put anything on it, too.

So that’s what I’ve got. Blank walls, blank furniture, blank everything. It’s like a jail cell for a bedroom, and everything I’ve got to show for myself is in a backpack and two dresser drawers/

But, at least, I own my mobile.

Every summer job, mixed with odds and ends shit and whatever I can do for my bill. It’s all mine, and Davy can’t fucking touch it.

Maybe that’s why, when I feel it buzz against my chest, it makes me feel more alive. It’s a reminder of all that work just to be able to talk to someone freely.

Arguably, the best feeling in the goddamn world.

I grab it and flip it over. It’s just an email about uni.

Fuck.

I end up scrolling through tumblr for a little while, doing nothing but liking and reblogging a thing here or there. It takes a little while before a little drop down falls from the top of my screen.

gaystrell: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1r7Wkwj7MSFk0--DgquHGhYVBbqneEYq0J01t0uMRmxA/edit?usp=sharing

gaystrell: feel the need to apologize before you click the link, but then again, you asked for this hell

When I click on it, it pulls up a doc titled just “crackfic”, and I’m floored with the first sentence alone.

“Fuck my fish ass harder, daddy.”

My hand flies up, covering my mouth as I practically wheeze as quietly as possible. A few paragraphs in and I’m nearly crying into my palm, muffling my laughter as I read through pages upon pages of the most ridiculous fic I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.

I check the word count out of pure curiosity, and it somehow makes me laugh harder.

bi-sammy: holy fucking shit

bi-sammy: i swear to god if you don’t post that i will

gaystrell: already in the process of making the archive post

gaystrell: i seriously believe you underestimate my sincere ability to be the biggest dick on the street

bi-sammy: i dont know whether or not u meant that as ur literal dick or the big dick energy in making that a post but id probably agree with you in both

bi-sammy: tag me in the post pls i want to be the first to reblog it

gaystrell: you’re a ridiculous, sad, little man

gaystrell: of course i’ll tag you

Within minutes, it’s uploaded with the absolute worst slew of Archive tags attached to it, and as soon as he tags me in his post, I tap the notification.

Scales, Fins, and other Fishy Daydreams

Word Count: 3,192

Summary: Fish!Huxley and Sam get it on Shape of Water style

@bi-sammy this is your fault (you're welcome)

I immediately slam like and pull up reblog, rapidly typing out my response before posting.

absolute madman. cant believe youve done this. i trust you with my entire life.

As usual, he's quick to reblog back.

anything for the absolute pain in my life x

Smiling shamelessly, I ride on the moment's high as our conversation stays out in the world. I quite enjoy this version of his softness. The public, taunting replies to mine. In all this time of following him, I can't really recall him ever being this friendly with anyone but me.

Makes me feel special. Maybe too much so.

BAZ

The jarring shock of the seemingly endless notifications rattles me momentarily speechless.

It isn't even 15 minutes after I'd replied to Snow and there's already a few people reblogging it with comments about him and I. A quick “i ship y'all’ to “powermove of the century”. Each make me flush deeper as the replies flood in.

If I were to be practical, I'm aware that I shouldn't be so flustered over the concept of us being a couple. It's most likely my overactive, sad, lonely imagination, but the idea of being loved just makes me blush. Especially since it's someone who doesn't seem to absolutely loathe me.

gaystrell: are you reading these?

bi-sammy: the what?

bi-sammy: i have. nothing to read. i cant read.

gaystrell: use your two remaining brain cells look at the notes for the crackfic

bi-sammy: holy shit

bi-sammy: im cackling

A notification pops up, making me snort this time. I pull up the post and send it off to him without a second thought.

gaystrell: sent a post

gaystrell: “sounds like something huxley would do for sam”

bi-sammy: stop im gonna piss myself shits too fucking funny

I pull it back up, scrolling down to reblog and adding a quick reply that, in all honesty, I should have thought out more. Secretly, part of me is glad that I sent it.

huxley wishes he was this smooth ;)

Within seconds, replies flood in from everywhere. From jokes about Snow and I possibly dating to the concept of Huxley writing (purposefully) shitty homoerotica about himself as a fishman. I quite like the conversation about the latter, while the former makes my chest knot in ways inexplicable.

Going through the notes makes me smile, even if it's mildly embarrassing. The amount of times I've seen the eyes emoji used is definitely excessive, but still somewhat welcomed.

Even my archive has a few comments already, although more based around the fic itself. More ironically, though, is the one person who probably took it seriously and just commented, “Nice fic!” I love the abundance of shameless appreciation for obscure fanfiction in the depths of this community.

Snow's messages roll down my mobile screen as I'm checking the comments, continuously replacing the previous message for the top slot.

bi-sammy: mate

bi-sammy: i love you

bi-sammy: also every time you reblog something of mine i get like 5 followers

bi-sammy: if you mention me i get 10

bi-sammy: youre???????????? a god????????

bi-sammy: can i marry you????????????

I slowly close my laptop, eyes on my phone with an absolutely gleeful grin.

gaystrell: when and where?

#carry on #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #mine #it's a handheld disaster #snowbaz #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #simon #baz

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