#cup run! not fucking but wanting to fuck! u get the gist!
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never have i ever ... long form tim/brady? if you had to write 90k about them what would compel you to do so?
oh gosh. there is one idea for them that like, i think could turn into a long thing, and it once again features my guy, divorced brady (this is in no way shape or form a knock on the real life man and his relationship, it is just SO narratively compelling, truly rotating the blorbo on a hot dog roller):
in any case THIS time, we have the same sort of - marriage falling apart, divorced by the time the summer starts. and brady comes back to ottawa for the pre-season and has to buy a new place and fill it with new furniture and it is empty and generic and sad as fuck, and he is lonely, and life is not turning out how he thought, etc etc
tim, meanwhile, i think had a boyfriend. and the boyfriend was - fine. a perfectly nice mayonnaise jar of a man. literally everyone on the team was like "i guess???". they've been dating for like a year or so and then around the start of the season things start to fizzle out, but it's not quite over yet. on the verge.
the thing is, as the season goes from october to november to december, brady keeps asking tim to hang out, and tim keeps saying yes.
it's not like - there are other people on the team, yeah, but all the guys who are older have partners and brady is feeling so blatantly unpartnered. and all the young guys just want to have a good time, and brady loves to have a good time, but he's 30 and also needs a proper amount of sleep. and he feels a little guilty, sometimes, that he keeps asking if tim wants to hang out and play video games, or watch a movie, or whatever, anything so long as he isn't in his condo alone, but also tim keeps saying yes, so what's the harm?
by the holidays, tim's bland boring boyfriend is no longer his boyfriend. tim's over at brady's more often than not. by the all star break, the team is on an upswing. tim has clothes at brady's condo. brady feels mostly fine about the divorce, not nearly so bitter as he had been in september. when tim asks, haltingly, how he's doing, brady isn't lying when he says he's okay.
they aren't sleeping together. but every so often - once a week - once a day - every hour - brady thinks about it. about what it would be like to do that. one time, when tim comes over after a night out, two in the morning and drunk and smelling like someone else's aftershave before brady rolls him into a bed (his bed), he has to go take a shower and jerk off and bite his own fist not to make any noise, and then he goes and sleeps in the guest bedroom so he doesn't feel like a creep.
but the team is doing well. they're on track to make the playoffs, second in the division. brady can't fuck up the rest of his life just because he wants to sleep with his teammate - and maybe other things, besides.
in april, they clinch. in april, they go out, the whole team. in april, tim drags on his shirt collar and braces his forehead against brady's and swallows hard enough that brady can hear it echoing in his skull, and brady's gonna kiss him, he's gonna, it's happening now -
in april, brady says, after the playoffs, and tim shudders.
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A/N ::: Anyone that has breast tissue knows that shit can HURT . Like, o-u-c-h. And our darling Mikey from TR seem to like to push that envelope a little passed where it should have stopped. Listening to THIS playlist right now but got so hooked on #4 that I'm already tired of hearing it.
C/W ::: Rude bf, boob stuff (play, teasing, mean and not mean, sucking, licking, flicking, pulling - whatever I come up with along the way but that's the gist of it).
WC ::: 2,169 (actual body of fun reading part)
* Gets an unmistakable smirk on his face when you wince and retreat from his touch because he knows for the next week or so, your tits are going to be at their most sensitive. And he can't wait.
* Lays low for a while (hours, not days - because he doesn't want you to think he's up to something, even though he most definitely is.)
* Will hug you from behind and cross his arms over your chest and pull you close.
* Doesn't let go right away when you say "Ow, loosen your grip, my tits hurt."
* Turns you around and presses himself right against the front of your body and buries his nose in your neck, kissing you sweetly and softly.
* Absolutely comes off like he cares and like he feels genuinely bad for you but this is too good an opportunity to pass up.
* He'll pull you into the bathroom and turn the hot water on, making it a little hotter than you usually like it and tells you to trust him.
* You give him the side-eye because what the actual fuck is he up to right now. (You already know because he doesn't let a month pass since this started with him where he doesn't give your aching tits the attention he 100% believes they deserve.) But you go along with it because a hot shower would feel really good right now and neither of you have anywhere else to be - for once - so you play along.
* He undresses you like you're a porcelain doll that is about to shatter if he moves too quickly (don't worry, he'll start moving faster.)
* With each new square inch of skin that he uncovers he lays down the most breathtaking kisses. You can't help but melt under his touch.
* Once he's got you nice and pliable beneath him naked, he will take your hand and look you in the eyes like he still can't believe you're with him.
* He takes you into the shower and turns the water to a light spray (because oh my fuck, those harder sprays can KILL).
* Runs his hands over your body, not paying any attention to your breasts and nipples just yet, he's getting you needy and wanting his touch elsewhere (you both know how much you fold when he's playing with your tits in his special "Mikey way."
* He'll start at your shoulders, rubbing deep circles into the muscle with his strong thumbs.
* His dick starts to twitch to life when you let that first sigh/moan out.
* Knows he's on the right track as soon as your head falls forward/backward - that all depends on where he's standing.
* Asks you if that feels good - knows fuckin' well it does feel good, he just likes to hear you say it.
* Works his way down, kneading your lower back and buttocks - making sure to give them a cute little smack every now and again.
* Finally, he'll come back up and stand behind you, his chest pressed up against your back, his cock rubbing between your cheeks (but not in a "let me fuck you" kinda way - more in a "I wanna make you feel so good you won't be able to handle it" kinda way.)
* He'll snake his hands down to your waist and bring his arms around to your belly and slide them up to cup your tits - one in each hand, of course.
* You'll tense up for a second as he starts to massage your breasts.
* He'll ask you to relax and just enjoy the sensation, and that it's all for your pleasure.
* You'll lean back against him, letting him take your weight and he'll start to move his hands up and down, side to side, making sure to hit every inch of your chest.
* He'll tell you how he loves your tits - loves the way they feel in his hands, how they fill up his palms and then some.
* He'll let his thumbs brush over your nipples, slowly, gently at first.
* You'll shiver against him and he'll know he's onto something good here.
* He'll start to work your nipples over more - circling, pinching, flicking, and pulling - all still very gently ... for the time being.
* He is always on the right track, though. It's fucking Mikey. He knows more than he lets on sometimes.
* Will start to ask you how you're feeling - knows the answer but, again, wants to hear you whisper it to him.
* When you say it - whatever "it" is - he will turn you around and drop to his knees.
* His eyes will be dark and full of lust, but his touch will still be gentle - he knows you're already on edge and he doesn't wanna push too far/too fast/too much.
* First you'll feel his breath against your skin and it only escalates from there.
* He'll kiss your nipples, barely grazing them with his tongue.
* Then he'll latch on and suck, hard.
* Your legs will start to shake and you'll wonder why you didn't just let him do this to you when you had your period when you two first got together.
* He'll remind you, "There is pleasure to be had in pain, sometimes. It's all about context, mamas."
* Waits patiently for you to roll your hips forward because he is the king of calling you the right name at the right time - also, made a mental note that you like to be called "mamas" ONLY when you're ovulating/on your period. Something about the way he says it all breathy like against your ear or your neck or your pussy. The man could start his own religion and you're sure many would follow it to a T.
* He'll keep sucking and licking and biting at your tits until you're squirming against him, desperate for some attention elsewhere.
* He'll reach down and slide a hand between your thighs and start to ghost his fingers over your clit in slow circles.
* You'll buck against his hand and he'll let out a low groan.
* He'll pull back just enough to look at your face as he traces 8's over your, now really, wet hole.
* Asks you if you want him to put his fingers inside you.
* You'll nod and beg him to - you can't help it.
* He'll push two fingers into your cunt and curl them upward, hitting your g-spot just right.
* You'll moan so loud that you're sure the neighbors will be able to hear you. (Neither of you care what they hear, though. If they don't want to hear that shit then they shouldn't be listening.)
* He'll start to fuck you with his fingers, slow at first - and then faster and deeper, his thumb pressed against your clit.
* You'll wrap your arms around his neck and he'll hold you close as you come undone around his fingers.
* When you start to come down, he'll give you a minute to breathe before he gets down on his knees in front of you again.
* He'll spread your legs and bury his face between your thighs, licking and sucking at your clit while you thread your fingers through his wet, blond hair.
* He'll suck and slurp and moan against you, sending vibrations straight to your core.
* He'll push you back against the shower wall and keep going until you're cumming on his tongue, calling out his name and telling him to "never stop, never stop, never stop."
* You'll regret your choice of words because he WON'T STOP and you will have to literally push him away because you're too sensitive and you know he could make you cum a million times before the sun comes up.
* He'll give you that smug look that you can't help but love and he laughs and pulls you in for a hug.
* After you've both caught your breath, he'll wash your hair, his hair and both of your bodies.
* He still looks at you like a starved animal. His eyes are as dark as they were when he first got you in there and there's something so primal about how his muscles move beneath his skin. It makes you want to fuck him.
* And yeah, he knows. He sees you looking at his back when he reaches for the towel on the rack. You're so oblivious right now to things that otherwise make perfect sense that you forget he can see you in the mirror.
* You get out and dry off and he wraps you up in your robe and asks if you want him to rub some cocoa butter on your nipples for you.
* You nod and he grabs some from the cabinet and tells you to go lay back on the bed.
* He'll straddle your waist and scoop some out until he has a generous amount on his hands.
* He'll warm it up in his palms and then start to gently massage it into your breasts, taking his time and making sure he gets every inch of skin.
* He'll look at you like he's waiting for you to say something, but you won't - not yet. You know he's working up to something.
* He'll finally ask if you feel better and you nod.
* He'll smirk and lean down and start to kiss your nipples, one at a time, slowly.
* You'll ask him what he's doing and he'll just smile and continue kissing and sucking your nipples.
* He'll suck hard and bite gently, then pull back and blow on them.
* Your pussy will start to get wet (again) and your hips have a mind of their own (again) and he'll know he's doing something right (again.)
* He'll crawl around your body until he's positioned just right and start to kiss your neck, your collarbone, your chest, your stomach, and your thighs.
* He'll push your legs apart and tell you to keep your eyes on him.
* He'll get back down on his knees and push your legs further apart and start to lick your pussy from top to bottom.
* He'll bury his tongue in your folds and suck at your clit until you're begging him to stop.
* He'll push two fingers inside you and start to pump them in and out of you as he sucks your clit.
* You'll buck against his hand and cum on his fingers, crying out his name - repeatedly.
* He'll give you a minute to catch your breath before he starts to line his leaking cock up with your entrance.
* He'll ask you if you want him to fuck you and you'll nod yes, pleading with your eyes for him to fill you up.
* And he'll tell you that's not sufficient, that he wants you to tell him how badly you want his cock.
* "Wanna hear the words, mamas." He leans down and kisses your neck until you're practically crying from being so turned on. "Gonna give that pretty pussy a high-five with my cock, don' leave me hangin', love."
* You have no idea how you're completely and utterly enchanted by him, but you oblige and turn your head so your mouth is against his ear, "Mi-key, wan' you n'side uh'me, pl-please ..."
* He gets that cocky look on his face because he got you to do exactly what he wanted and he'll push into your pussy - slowly - inch by inch, until he's balls deep inside you.
* The way he moves should be criminal. Like, he hits you right every time - your clit, your whole pussy is so happy.
* He fucks you hard and deep and slow - then fast and shallow - then hard and deep again.
* He'll change positions at least five times, all while fucking you like he's never going to get another chance.
* You'll cum again before he even starts to get close, but he's not done with you yet.
* He'll pull out and turn you around, bending you over the bed and pushing into you from behind.
* He'll reach around and play with your tits while he pounds into you - telling you how much he loves the way they - and all of you - bounce and jiggle against his touch.
* He'll start to rub your clit again and you'll cum around him, hard and surprisingly drawn out.
* He'll keep fucking you from behind until he cums, filling you up and saying your name.
* He'll pull out and collapse on the bed next to you.
* You'll lay there and catch your breath, wondering why you didn't let him play with your tits from the get-go.
* He'll wrap his arms around you and pull you close.
* Asks you if you feel better now.
* You'll say yes and thank him.
* He'll kiss you softly and tell you that he loves you and he knows you love him too.
* You'll smack him in the arm and laugh. "Oh, so you think you can just get whatever you want because I love you? Is that it?"
* He'll shrug and tell you that he's just that good.
* And you can't deny that he is. So you'll snuggle up together and fall asleep with your tits pressed against his chest.
@katshimizuu @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku @darkstarlight82 @viburnt @arlerts-angel
#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tokyo revengers smut#tokrev smut#tokyo rev smut#tokyo rev#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x you#tokrev x you#tokrev x reader#sano manjiro#mikey x you#mikey x reader#manjiro sano x reader#manjiro sano x you#sano manjiro x reader#sano manjiro x you#mikey smut#manjiro sano smut#sano manjiro smut
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Skz thot incoming bc I saw u asked oops - seven minutes in heaven with Han who’s secret bf so it goes from kissing to him fingering you with a hand over your mouth in like thirty seconds flat
“thank god the bottle landed on me or i would’ve killed myself.”
you roll your eyes and shove your boyfriend, sending him tumbling into the hamper behind him. he’d been on his knees, unsteady already, but you didn’t mean to push him that hard.
“oi, what was that for?” he grumbles, righting the hamper and himself.
“for being so dramatic.”
“i’m not being dramatic! the bottle was this close to landing on minho and then you’d be in this closet with him for seven minutes.”
“yeah, but we wouldn’t be doing anything, ji. the ‘heaven’ part of seven minutes in heaven isn’t guaranteed.”
“yeah but he’d definitely try something,” jisung mutters.
“oh my god.”
“knowing him! c’mon you know i’m right. have you seen yourself?”
you purse your lips. “do you really want to spend all seven minutes arguing over this or do you want to actually put them to good use?”
jisung sighs and pulls you onto his lap.
“for the record, if everyone knew we were dating, i wouldn’t have to worry so much about one of the other boys trying to get in your pants.”
“first of all, weird way to put it. second of all, you know why they can’t know. and third of all, i thought we agreed not to talk about this anymore.”
“i know, i know. i just-”
“so kiss me.”
he does, cradling the back of your head with his hand. he slips his tongue into your mouth the moment you part your lips in a moan. you want to grind down onto him but it’s hard to through the tight pants you’re both wearing.
jisung had chosen leather out of all things.
sensing your frustration, he snakes his free hand down between your bodies to unbutton your pants. it’s still difficult for him to get his hand down them, considering how big it is, but he manages to wiggle it in so that he’s cupping you over your underwear.
“fuck, you’re wet. what’s all this for?”
“you, duh.”
“well i’d hope so,” he scoffs, “but why?”
“you know i get horny when i drink,” you whine. “and this hair color looks so good on you, and your pants are tight in all the right places-”
“shit, you just got even wetter, i can feel it running down my fingers.”
“touch me, ji,” you plead, trying to grind into his hand.
“i got you, baby. let’s just get these pants down a little… there we go.”
your body slumps against his when he slides two of his fingers inside of you. you feel him chuckle and kiss the top of your head before repositioning you so that your back is against his chest.
“i’m surprised you haven’t already jumped me tonight,” jisung admits. “just knowing how turned on you are right now.”
“i have self-control,” you mumble.
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
“nothing, but if you think it means something then what does that say about your restraint?” the end of your sentence gets cut off because jisung started to move his fingers to shut you up but you know he gets the gist.
“what was that?” he asks.
“fuck you.”
“you already are.”
“i wish i wasn’t.”
“you know that’s not true. just feel how wet you are for me, baby.”
your head lolls back against his shoulder. “fuck, go faster please.”
“that’s what i thought.”
he speeds up and adds a third finger, making you whimper involuntarily.
“shhh, gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers. “can’t let them know what we’re really doing in here.”
“can’t help it…” you choke out.
jisung’s solution is to hold his other hand over your mouth to muffle the noises you’re making. it’s effective, but it only turns you on even more, and you know jisung can feel you tightening around his fingers.
“how many minutes do you think we have left?” he asks, “maybe three?” you nod against his hand. your guess is about the same. “i’ve made you cum in less time. this should be easy.”
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teacher!dave fic. chapter 1. (d.d)
A/N: oops. I couldn’t not. I wrote this SO quick, apologies if there are any errors! let me know what you think. -hailey
wc: 3.5k
The thought of senior year in its entirety was nerve wracking. Left and right, everywhere you went, you were going to be experiencing things for the last time ever. Including your last relationship of high school.
++
You had been hoping to see Mrs. Porter on you schedule ever for your AP Lit class; instead, seeing someone named Dobrik. There were only 2 AP Lit teachers at your school, so you can’t help but wonder if whoever Dobrik is replaced Mrs. Porter, or if they replaced the other teacher.
You and your friends flood the steps of your high school’s main campus on the night of Open House, schedules in hand as you flit around the grounds, meeting your teachers and finding your classrooms.
It’s an easy process, you and your friends were the same types of students with a majority of the same classes, so out of your 7 classes, you shared the same periods with them. It being your senior year, finding your classrooms was a piece of cake and took little to no time.
You move period by period, hopping through your lists out of order. A constant in your conversation was whoever Mr. or Mrs. Dobrik was; it was rare for teachers to leave your school or quit, so it made you all curious.
You and your friends eventually make it to the classroom of your first period: room 225, AP Lit with Dobrik. You mistake who you assume is Mr. Dobrik for a student, his hips propped up against his desk at the back of the room, arms crossed as he talks to a parent. His eyes glance toward the door as your group files in, standing up straight and politely excusing himself.
“Hey! You guys have this class? Let me check you all off my roster, just so I know I saw you and talked to you and gave you the syllabus and all that.” Mr. Dobrik turns to his desk, grabbing his rosters and thumbing through a stack of stapled papers, eyes looking up as he counts how many of you there are and taking the matching amount.
He makes his way over to you and leans against the nearest desk to you all, pen and green highlighter in hand.
“So, hi. I’m Mr. Dobrik. This is my first year teaching so don’t be too rough on me, but like, if I’m doing a terrible job and you don’t understand anything…..please tell me, even though my ego will get hurt. Seriously, though, this is a really difficult course and while I want to make it academically challenging, I don’t want to make it impossible. I’m pretty malleable with homework deadlines, but only if you come talk to me. Otherwise, late work is an absolute no and I can’t forgive it,” Mr. Dobrik is highlighting the same spots of every syllabus as his eyes scan back and forth through your group of five, making a point to make eye contact with every single one of you every time he glances up.
“I know you guys have jobs and extracurriculars and everything, but again: my answer is to just talk to me. I’m easy in that aspect. Um...there was something else, too,” he scratches his head, pushing his glasses up and searching through a syllabus.
“Oh! Phones. You can listen to music or whatever, I just ask that you don’t text or post or anything during my class. I’ll go more into all of this on Monday, I just wanted to clarify the basics, okay?” He looks up and makes eye contact again, searching for all of your confirmations.
“I know there’s usually a summer assignment for this class, so you guys are lucky you didn’t have to do it since I wasn’t here. That being said, my lesson plans are especially rigorous for the first quarter because you didn’t have one.”
“Basically, a good rule of thumb if you have any questions about anything, is to come talk to me. You can’t get the notes done on time because you work three to ten? Come talk to me. You have band until eight that night? Come talk to me. I’m here to help you, not make shit - sorry, not to make things difficult for you. I want you to pass the exam and get this credit.” He stands now, capping his highlighter and uncapping his pen.
“What are your names and what period are you in?” Mr. Dobrik makes the point of eye contact, checking the name off of his roster, and writing the name on the syllabus. You’re the last one, and you stutter out your own name, your eyes glancing down to his lips as he scans through his list, putting a check at the side of your name. He writes your name in the top right corner of the paper in messy handwriting, looking as iif it was written with the intent to be neat.
“Okay! Thank you guys. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning. Have a good weekend.” You all murmur your polite reciprocation, waving him goodbye as he smiles and runs a hand through his hair, seemingly nervous.
Once down the hallway, one of your friends eventually bursts, “Okay, was he totally fucking fine or is it just me? He’s also super young. Like, he’s barely older than us. Please tell me it’s not just me.”
You and your group immediately start, “Oh my God, no. It’s not just you. He’s probably the most fuckable teacher now. He’s got that messy brown hair, doe eyed, smart, nerdy thing going for him. I literally felt speechless as he looked at me for my name...Y/N stuttered!” You blush at their derision as they only laugh harder.
You don’t know how you’re ever going to talk to him or ask him questions when you can barely tell him your name.
++
Monday morning comes quickly; your last first day of school begins with you and your group stockpiling into your car, picking each of them up one by one. It’s an easy (albeit early) morning leading up to the first bell.
You all wander through Mr. Dobrik’s propped open door a few minutes after the first bell. He’s fiddling with his coffee pot he must've brought, back turned to the door. He hears the ruckus, though, looking over his shoulder.
“Hey! Good to see you again. You guys can sit anywhere. I’m not gonna have assigned seats or anything, so…” he trails off, turning back to whatever he was doing. His hair is slightly wet, white dress shirt clean and pressed, paired with a red tie, black skinny jeans and black Vans. He was too close to your age to be your teacher.
You and your friends are mostly too nervous to make any sort of conversation with each other amid the mostly silent room, sitting together and mouthing to one another, Oh my God, he looks so good!
More students come through his door and he greets every single one of them, quietly fixing himself a cup of coffee in a mug that stated what must have been his alma mater. The late bell rings, Mr. Dobrik immediately shutting his door and taking attendance. He calls out the names under his breath, eyes darting in between his computer screen and his students as he searches for the familiar faces.
“Y/N is present...okay, we’re good! Everyone’s here.” Mr. Dobrik doesn’t look at you as he says it though, one of your friends kicking at your leg under the table as you blush at the fact. He quickly sets up his computer and his PowerPoint on his class information, leaning against a table as he sips at his coffee.
“Okay, hi, everyone! I’m Mr. Dobrik. I went to University of Illinois and graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree. I majored in English and minored in Film, and I’ve just started an online Master’s program with U of I, where I’ll study Psychology. Um, I just turned 23, like, last month, and this is my first year teaching so all I ask is you don’t murder me if you don’t like something about my class or how I act, ‘cause I’m new at this!” Mr. Dobrik takes another sip of his coffee, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and hitting the next arrow on his keyboard, revealing a slide of essentially everything he had explained to you the night of Open House.
“So, like, the phones...I don’t care if you listen to music, but I don’t want you Snapchatting or playing iMessage games or anything while I’m trying to teach or you’re supposed to be doing an assignment, you know? I believe it’s disrespectful and rude; don’t waste my time and don’t waste yours. This is an AP class and we all know it’s a difficult course. If any of that’s an issue for you, I politely ask that you head down to guidance and snag you one of those handy schedule change request forms. Um,” he pauses, “I won’t ever put my hands on your stuff; you don’t touch my stuff and I won’t touch yours. It’s simple. I respect you guys and it’s not fair if I can do things you can’t, you know? So, I won’t take your phone. Again, I will never lay a finger on anything that’s yours, however, if your phone is out and you’re not changing a song or something, I will kick you out and send you to attendance. It’s different if you come up to me and say, Hey, Mr. Dobrik, my mom is calling, can I step outside and answer it? Like, duh. If it’s important, just ask me.” Mr. Dobrik continues sipping at his coffee, pulling his glasses off and placing them on the table. He rubs at his eyes before he slowly takes another mouthful, eyes peeking up sleepily as he looks around the room blindly.
“That’s really the gist of this whole thing, honestly. If there’s an issue, if you need more time for an assignment, need to take a phone call or text someone back, just talk to me. I was practically just in high school, so I get it; I know how hard it is when everything is due at the same time and the pile keeps getting bigger and bigger and you’re trying so hard to balance everything along with school. I’m also all ears if you want to come and talk to me about something that’s happening in your life or something similar, I have A lunch so if you guys want to come in and hang out, feel free. Again, the main point is: if you have any issues at all, just come talk to me, we can work through it together. Most of you are seniors, so it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” He shrugs nonchalantly, putting his glasses back on and placing his mug on the table. “D’you have any questions?” He scans the room quickly, taking everyone’s unresponsiveness as his answer, “No? Okay. Cool.”
Mr. Dobrik continues speaking about the first quarter and what you’ll cover during the first few units, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows as he lectures. He reveals the first assignment: simple Cornell notes for the first two chapters of the textbook due Wednesday.
“The plan is to have a day every month where I meet with you guys and talk about what you understand and what you don’t. My philosophy is that your grade reflects what you know, not what work you did or didn’t do or copied off of someone else. If I can talk to you and have a good discussion about whatever we’re analyzing at that time, you’ll be fine. I really just want you to be able to analyze and have the ability to connect what we read with our personal lives in this day and age. You probably know this, but we’re starting in the 1600’s and going until present day. We’re going to read some John Keats, William Wordsworth, Anne Rice, Charlotte Bronte, et cetera, et cetera, you know the drill. I’m going to try to pick things that I believe you will be genuinely interested in or connect with, and if I don’t...um, not to throw him under the bus or anything, but it’s probably Mr. Carroll’s pick that he’s making me do with him. I’m serious! He wanted to analyze, like, the Federalist papers and I immediately said hell no.
“Really, though, your grade reflects what you know. And you guys probably need to get to it, so I’ll stop beating you over the head with my voice. Talk to me if you don’t like a certain type of assignment and we can come up with an alternate; talk to me if you need to take a call; you can eat in here but be nice about it; talk to me if you don’t understand something, all that jazz. I’m easy to get along with, I promise. Just talk to me and respect me and we’re all good. Cool? Alright. Textbooks are under your seats. You’ll need to go down to the Media Center on your own time to check one out. Get started. I’ll come around and talk to you guys in a few.” Mr. Dobrik finally pushes himself off of the side of the table he had been leaning on for the past 15 minutes, students rustling through their bags for pens and paper as he sits at his desk, submitting his attendance and responding to emails.
“Y/N, stop staring!” One of your friends, Jessie, kicks you under the table for the second time that period. “You’ve been drooling over him ever since he said Hi, I’m Mr. Dobrik! Like, it’s impossible for you to stare any harder. He totally noticed, too!” She’s whispering as you all work, a quiet hum of voices spreading across the room.
“He did not!” You defend, “No way. I was just paying attention.”
“Y/N, you were literally leaning against your arm with hearts in your eyes. Get a grip. If he wants to talk to us as much as he says he does, you’re going to have to get over it. He’s our teacher and he’s hot, but that’s all he is!”
“Oh my God, Jessie, it’s not that big of a deal. Just because I think he’s hot doesn’t mean I want to date the guy-,” you’re scribbling main ideas down as you skim through the paragraphs.
“Who’s the guy? Maybe I have him,” Mr. Dobrik leans over your table, scanning over your group’s papers before looking at you.
“Oh, um,” you blush at his eye contact as he bites at his lips, looking down at you. “Doesn’t really matt-.”
“I’m joking, Y/N,” he cuts you off and leans over, turning your paper to face him. He repeatedly glances between you and the paper before speaking once more, “Okay! You ladies good?” You all murmur your agreement before he moves around to another group, shifting from table to table.
“Y/N, what the fuck was that? He has to know you’re into him!” You shake your head, no longer wanting to speak about it.
++
Two days later in Mr. Dobrik’s class, he’s going around, table by table, and grading everyone’s notes in front of them. It’s a snicker fest between your friends as he leans over you, red pen in hand as his eyebrows scrunch together and he shakes his head.
“No. You did this wrong. I’ll give you partial credit, but it’s not what I asked for. You can come in here during lunch and redo it for full credit. They look good, though.” He’s stern, already moving onto Jessie’s work before you stop him, making his eyes meet yours.
“Mr. Dobrik, respectfully, what do you mean? You looked at my notes both Monday and yesterday and you said it was fine. Like, I don’t understand. This is the first assignment of the quarter, and I’m starting it with a fifty? I’ll come in and redo it, but why? I just don’t understand.” You maintain the eye contact with him, his lips going in between his teeth as he chews on them for a split second.
“We’ll talk about it at lunch, okay? It’s fine. We can do this later,” he promises, returning to Jessie’s work as you stare at the bright red fifty percent at the top of your page.
So, you come in during lunch. He’s alone, typing away at his laptop as you walk through the door.
“Hey, Y/N. Come sit and we’ll talk. Can you get out the notes?” You feel odd about this already, silently obeying him and pulling the papers out as he continues sending emails, not looking at you. You wait quietly, placing the notes on his desk. He turns to you, looking them over quickly and leaning in closer. He’s too close, it feels like, and you can smell hints of his cologne mixing with his soap.
“Yeah. Okay. So, like, you paraphrased this entire time. There aren’t any bullet points, they’re just paragraph summaries. I don’t want what the book says, except for vocab, maybe. Like, I can tell just by looking at this that if I made you take a quiz right this second you’d fail it. Convince me. Make the work worth it and make it help you in the long run.” He leans back in his chair, looking at you again.
“I thought you said it doesn’t matter how we take our notes-.”
“It doesn’t,” he shrugs, “I don’t care how you do it as long as you know the content. But you don’t.” He doesn’t appreciate your talking back to him, but he lets it slide, liking the fact that you feel comfortable enough with him to argue about your work.
“How do you know that?”
“Y/N. I’ve peer edited and peer edited and peer edited these past 4 years of my life. I can spot when someone’s writing is half hearted. Even if it’s just notes. I know what I’m doing.”
“Oh, shit, I didn’t mean it that way, like, I never thought that you didn’t know what you were doing, I was just asking-.” He waves you off, smile playing at his lips.
“I know. I’m teasing,” Mr. Dobrik rolls a pen in his fingertips, running the pads of his fingers down the ridges of its side. “Really, though, just think about the content thoroughly and analyze it and you’ll get a 100. The work was phenomenal, I mean it, I just don’t think it’s the best you can accomplish as a student. I know I’ve only had you for 3 days, but like, it’s really obvious to me that you can do better than half-assed summaries. Again, they’re still great, but you can do better. It’s really not about the grade, at this point, right?”
You tilt your head in confusion, looking at him as he leans forward.
“Your work is college-level already. They’re just summaries, but you reworded them great and got the main idea across fine. If you do your best, I’m giving you a 100 in here,” he shrugs again, still playing with the pen in his hands. “I also saw you skimming the passages and your mind was somewhere else entirely.” You know what he’s hinting at, and it’s suddenly obvious how right Jessie was. He knows, but there’s nothing you could do about it and there’s certainly no going back.
“It’s fine. Just be present in my class and we won’t have any issues.” What the hell did that mean? That he knew you had the hots for him and that it was fine, that he was perfectly comfortable with it as long as you kept focused?
“Back to the point, though. You can produce better academic work. Do you agree?”
You nod, meeting his eyes.
“Okay. So, since you agree you can do better, I can start pushing you. If you want that, of course. Do you?” He’s pushing his fingers through his hair now, still looking at you. You don’t know what game he’s playing at, but something in you is telling you there’s a different motive than purely a teacher/student drive. Still, though, you say yes, looking at your hands.
“Okay. Then, tomorrow, I want the revised notes, your favorite poem, and a five paragraph analysis of it on my desk first thing. Can you do that for me?” You make eye contact again, nodding.
“Then you’re all good. I just wanted to talk to you privately about it. Let me know if it becomes too much or something. I honestly just think you have a lot of potential and as your teacher, I’d hate to see it go to waste. I don’t want you doing what I did. I didn’t try hard enough.”
“That’s besides the point, though. You can go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Mr. Dobrik promises as you both stand and he begins walking you to his door. He’s putting the doorstop in as you step out of his room, making sure you hear his Can’t wait to see what you come up with for me!
You stay up until 2AM ensuring everything is perfect.
#david dobrik fic#david dobrik#vlog squad#vlog squad fanfic#david dobrik x y/n#david dobrik x reader#david dobrik x you#david dobrik imagine#vlog squad imagine#vlog squad fic#david dobrik fanfiction#david dobrik fanfic#teacher/student au#TALK TO ME ABOUT IT#WHAT DO YOU THINK
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Love Me Better - Ch. 39
A Monsta x Story...
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A large sign in big letters read "Starside Inn". It was mounted on a large neon lit star and hung from a pole mounted beside the main office. The building was U shaped and had three levels. They climbed up the thin steps to the top.
They got two adjoined rooms and unlocked the door between them. Vy led Miranda and Jihun to their bed and brought in their bag. Jihun had calmed down since the accident and looked sleepy again. His eyes drooped slowly whenever Miranda stopped moving. She sat Jihun down on the bed and turned to Vy.
"Vy, thank you. You saved our lives," she said. She gave Vy a hug and held her for a moment.
Vy hugged her back bashfully.
Miranda then looked at Wonho with a smile. "Wonho, still as reckless as always huh?"
Wonho chuckled. "I'll never change my ways Miranda. Ji got so big!"
Wonho walked over to Jihun and picked him up. The boy giggled sleepily and reached his arms up in the air as Wonho held him high. He spun Jihun around and swooped him up and down. Jihun laughed at every turn.
It was yet another side of Wonho that shocked her. She smiled as she watched him playing with Jihun. One moment she thought he was gone forever and the next he was as happy as a kite standing in front of her.
"Okay okay that's enough, you're gonna make him puke. He needs some rest, today has been exciting enough eh Jihun?" Miranda said.
Wonho handed him over to her and ruffled his hair. Miranda took Jihun to the bathroom to get him washed up.
Vy sat on the bed in the other room and took off her shoes. Her feet had gotten sore since the beginning of her monstrously long day.
"You knew about Shownu's family?" Vy said as Wonho walked in.
He sat in the bed across from hers. "Yeah I did, I met Miranda years ago. I told Shownu not to do it, starting a family isn't the best plan for people like us. But here we are, and I just love that kid."
Vy smiled. "He is pretty cute," she paused and thought for a moment, "So Shownu hid them for this long?”
"Yeah, it wasn't the greatest solution, but it was one they accepted. He knew the secret wouldn't last, and today looks like that day," he said.
A knock sounded on the door and they both stiffened. Wonho got up to look through the eye hole and laughed as he unlocked the deadbolt.
"You fucker! You missed all the action," Wonho said.
"Not all of it," Shownu said as he lifted his shirt. A jagged cut ran along his side that was stitched together rather roughly.
"Shownu you should disinfect that..." Vy said.
He nodded and Vy saw him walk into their room looking like a complete mess. His hair was dirty and oily, his temple had crusted dry blood on it, and his clothes were covered in mud.
"Going to be honest Shownu, you look like shit," Vy said.
Shownu smiled and Wonho burst out laughing.
He removed his shoes and looked around, "where are Miranda and Jihun?"
Vy told him they were in the other bathroom as he walked into theirs. She smiled thinking that even though her day had started off incredibly poorly, it was ending on a better note.
Vy was starting to feel all her adrenaline wear out. She wanted to shower too as her skin felt covered in some invisible film. Her hair felt greasy as she ran her hands through it, there was no way she could pass out yet.
Shownu came out a couple seconds before Miranda took out Jihun. Vy saw them both walk by the common door between the rooms and see each other. Shownu tossed his towel on a desk by the wall and walked over to her.
Though they were both clothed and only embraced, Vy sensed a deep intimacy that made her look away. He held her tightly with Jihun in between them. Vy looked at them again and might have teared up had she not been so tired.
"I think it's time we put him to bed," Shownu said. He took Jihun with ease and held him comfortably with one hand. Jihun nestled in his chest with a sleepy smile.
Miranda said goodnight and went back into their room. Shownu turned back and thanked them once again for bringing his family back safely. He gave a sleepy smile adorably similar to Jihun and they closed the door that joined their rooms.
Vy sighed loudly.
"Tired already?"
She jumped a little, forgetting Wonho was still in the room. "It's been a long day, I have to fill you in, but I can't right now..."
He smiled at her dismissive attitude. She got up and went to the bathroom with a towel. The door shut and Wonho sighed loudly.
He thought about the way she looked when they saw each other again. Her expression was something that shook him to the core. He felt her emotions through the air between them. When her body touched his...He looked over at the lamp to stop his thoughts before they overwhelmed him. Yet he found himself replaying the moment in his head over and over again. He was stuck in a loop.
The door opened and Vy came out in a towel. "Shower's free," she said with a yawn.
Wonho looked her up and down. Her legs glistened with water droplets hanging from them. Her hair was wet as steam blew into the room from the washroom. All he wanted to do in that moment was tear that towel off her body and...
He got up and half ran to the bathroom shutting the door. Inside, he panted and wiped his face with his hands. He took off his clothes and stood on the tiled floor looking himself in the mirror. The mirror was hazy from previous showers but he wiped it and saw his pale face. His body was covered in dirt and blood. He also needed a haircut. It was starting to come over the ears and he hated when it was this long.
He stepped into the shower and enjoyed the feeling of water running down his body. It was hot and destroyed the odour he carried with him. He grabbed a washcloth and found himself cleaning for a while. He usually never took this long. Though every time he thought of Vy, a part of him wanted to make sure he was presentable.
He thought about her hair and how it might smell when wet. Then he thought about how it might feel with his hands running through it. The towel. It was so loose, hanging off her body. He unconsciously licked his lips. His body hardened without him realizing as he continued to think of her.
When he saw what his thoughts did he immediately turned the shower knob to the coldest setting with a pained sigh.
When he stepped out of the bathroom he just wore his boxer briefs and wiped his head with a towel. Vy had gotten into her bed and turned to look at him. He saw her face flush red when she saw him and looked away.
He smirked. "What's wrong?"
She gripped the sheets around her. "Nothing, I'm just tired." She then resolved her expression and turned to face him with only a small amount of strain. "I need to tell you what's going on though, just the gist of it for now."
Wonho nodded and crawled into his bed. He turned to face her as he pulled the sheets up over his bare skin.
"After the building fell, we looked for you for a while and couldn't find anything. Then we went back to the construction site from before to warn the others. That was basically an ambush and there was an accident there. An absolute shit show, and..." she paused and he noticed that her face lifted into a soft rage. "Soo was there."
Wonho clenched his fists and thought of her role in all this. She was constantly after the top of the heap, stepping on everyone in her path.
"But we had to get away quickly. Then Jooheon and I split up. I went to find Kihyun and the other guys up north. When I saw them, Mr. Kim was there."
Wonho's body shot upwards into a sitting position at her words. "What?”
She widened her eyes and continued, "he said that you were a traitor and they're now looking for you. He said you're behind the whole conspiracy against your dad. The guys are playing along but nobody believes it."
"Fucking Kim...that bastard..." Wonho grit his teeth.
Vy got up sleepily and sat beside him. She slapped her arm across his back and held him at the side. Her head flopped on his shoulder.
"We would never believe him, not in a million years," she said.
Wonho turned his head and could smell the flowery scent of her hair. He took one of her hands and laced his fingers through hers. Both of their hands were rough and calloused.
“Vy...I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am to have met you. I…” He lifted her hand and kissed it long and softly as he turned to look at her reaction.
She remained on his shoulder, unmoving.
"Vy?" He said. There was no answer.
It was then that he heard the faintest snoring sound. Like ripples over water. He laughed silently and cupped her head as he laid her down on his bed. He lifted her legs and placed them carefully on the sheets. Her eyelids fluttered only a little when he moved her. Otherwise she was falling in a deeper sleep. He took the blanket and put it over her body.
She had bags under her eyes along with cuts and scrapes but somehow watching her fall into the vulnerable state of sleep moved him deeply. He watched her for a few minutes before moving a strand of hair from her cheek. His hand stayed there for a moment. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. He then kissed her cheek. He found himself unable to leave the proximity of her face. With a tug of regret he pulled away.
As he went back to his own bed he turned off the light. The darkness was comforting though he felt anxiety crawl under his skin. As much as Vy's precious face was seared into his heart, his mind could not help but shift to the mess that was their whole situation.
He closed his eyes and hoped he could think of a plan soon.
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