#im gonna take the rest of this last semester easy and slow and just do what i can | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

floatinginwords · 3 years

Text

Saved by the Devil (12/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: One week before Epsom you or tommy can get your minds off one another

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (romantic)

A/N: sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. this semester is just killing me. i really hate online school dude. oh and fair warning i did not proof read this so there might be mistakes please be forgiving towards them. Hope you enjoy and have a fantastic night.

One week before Epsom. A lot was going through your head as time seem to go faster and faster. Tommy hadn’t called you or seen you since you were last in Birmingham.

‘Probably busy with May’ you thought to yourself. You rolled your eyes as you recount her giggles and flirtatious behavior.

“What was that?” Trinity asks. You almost forgot she was in the same room as you. You almost forgot you were in her house. Giving her the last of what you needed for when you were ready to runaway from the country.

“Sorry, just thinking.” You say, going back to sipping your tea.

“Okay, is there anything else I need to worry about or hide for you.”

“Well hopefully I wont need to have so many fake ids, and I can get a legitimate one.” You say sighing.

“Hows that going?”

“Its going.” You say, though you weren’t really sure if helping Thomas Shelby ensured you for what you wanted. Its why you had a backup plan. You always did.

“When are you leaving, (Y/n)?” Trinty asks.

“next Friday hopefully.”

Trinitys eyes almost pop out of their socket. “That soon?!”

You nod. Right after Epsom you were gone. You needed to make quick moves and this one seemed the quickest and smartest. You were starting to recognize faces on trains and buses. Men were following you. You didn’t know who these men were and why they casually followed you places but it helped you make an important decision that it was time to leave. And soon.

“What are you gonna do about Thomas Shelby?”

“What about him?”

She wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“No.” You say.

“oh cmon, you want him a little bit at least.”

“Not even.” You lie.

“Oh cmon he calls you and you rush to him like a puppy and vice versa. Ada told me that when she called him when you were missing he dropped everything to help you, even rushed over himself.” She says

“Trinity please drop it. Hes just someone good to have around.”

“Yea he is.” She says suggestively.

“No.” You say but the two of you end up giggling at Trinity’s antics as you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.

Thomas Shelby stares across at the empty seat that not too long ago held a sitting Grace. It felt like years since he had seen her. And he thought that the same emotions from before, from every other time he saw her would brew back up and he’d be in love with her again. But as she talked about America and her new husband all he could see was the woman who betrayed him and his family. She left, nothing happened between them, though it easily could have. He sits and thinks about the woman in his life. He thinks about Greta how he held her hand as he died, Grace the way she had made him smile for the first time in years and then broke hi heart as if it was the first time ever, May who was charming but he knew he would never talk to her after (seeing as he was only using her). And there was you. No amount of words can describe you accurately. They wouldn’t do you justice. Tommy smiles as he recalls the last time he saw you. The flustered look as he said the word ‘date’ as you left the pub. Polly had demanded answers on what he was doing with you. Which he calmly replied, “Business pol, don’t worry about it.” He saw the tension between the two of you when he had walked in. He knew that polly would grow to love and trust you the more she got to know you. You were just that type of person.

Without thinking he picks up the phone, calling adas house. Lucky for him, its you that picks up.

“hello?”

“(Y/n).”

“Mr.Shelby. Are you calling for Ada?”

“No, I was calling for you. How do you feel about Charlie Chaplin?”

*******************************************************************************************

It was only two hours ago when you had gotten back from Trinitys when the phone rang in you and Adas shared house. You picked up naturally not expecting to hear the sweet deep voice of Thomas Shelby. He had invited you out, which you accepted without thinking. He had picked you up in a car after telling you to dress nice which you did finding a dress you never worn. It was a lovely shade of green. A pity for it to go waste.

You kept telling yourself its just business as you applied a bit of lipstick to your lips. Its just business you think as you rush down the stairs when you see his car pull up in front. Its just business you think as you open the door and see him standing there looking amazing.

“You look exquisite.” He says And a thought sneaks up through the cracks of your mind, ‘its not just business.’

When the two of you arrive at the party, the two of you have a grand time as you mingle with famous people and eat little appetizers on plates. You ignore the drinks and the bar not wanting to get drunk.

“Would you care for a dance?” He asks you. The two of you were sat at a table when a slow song comes on and all the couples rush to the floor.

“I’m afraid to say that I’m not much of a dancer.” You say embarrassed by your lack of skill.

“Im sure we can remedy that with some practice.” He smiles, taking your hand and leading you away. And you cant help but follow entranced by the way he guides you and holds you gently. The music is lovely and awfully romantic. You look everywhere else but his eyes. Knowing that you’d just end up lost within them. You watch the couples dancing, wondering which ones were in love or not. You stumble a bit as you attempt to not step on his toes. You do a good job at following his lead although you’re incredibly stiff.

“Hey, are you okay?” Thomas voice breaks you from your thoughts. You lock eyes a time seems to stop. For a moment you think he’s gonna kiss you.

He continues speaking, “C’mon lets get out of here.”

The two of you head back to tommys, the silence comfortable. Though you didn’t have anything to drink, you feel drunk off his presence. You wish now that you have talked to Trinity or Ada about your conflicting feelings because at this moment as you sit down again on his couch you had no idea how to act.

“So Epsom…are you ready?” He says

“As ready as ill ever be.”

“You’ll be there right?”

“Of course. I said I would.”

Another smile falls on to his face as he moves to his vinyl, playing a record that was on it. He holds hi hand out again like at the party.

“What are you doing?” You ask

“Asking to dance, do you not want the practice.”

You smirk and grab his hand. He pulls you in closer than before. His hand resting on your hip and his other hand intertwined with your hand. Again you try to look away from him but then fingers guide your chin to his eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me.” He says.

And you do. And for a moment you feel this gravitational pull. You see him lean forward; you close your eyes. And then…

RING the phone rings terribly through the apartment,

“Fuck,” he mutters the edge of his lips barely brushing over yours, he leans back, “stay right here.” He leaves to pick up the phone.

You take a deep shaky breath as he leave you standing by yourself. You hear him pick up the phone and quietly talk into the receiver end of it. You sit down on the couch replaying what just happened in your head. Your heart beats fast against your skin and you know no doubt that your flustered as can be. You sit to catch your breath and hopefully steady your beating heart.

Two small knocks on the door. You think to get Tommy but he sounds aggravated you decide to not bother him. You open the door yourself revealing a beautiful blond woman. You blink confused of what she could want, she looks at you equally confused.

“Hi is tommy here,” her Irish accent is clear as day, “You know what never mind that I just need to get something real quick.”

She pushes pass you and goes immediately to the couch digging her hand through the cushions. She pulls out a ring and sighs in relief.

“Imagine going home without this.” She says to you.

“Im sorry I-“ You finally find the words to speak but she interrupts you.

“Its okay he probably didn’t tell you. Im grace. I was here a couple hours ago. he’s always been one to move on fast.” She says with a tone of disapproval as she looks up and down at you.

“Did you meet Chaplin? Hes one of my favorite actors.” Grace continues.

You feel scrutinized under her gaze. She walks past you with a smile. She knows her words cut you deep even if you don’t show it.

“Tell Tommy I said bye. Enjoy your time.” And then she’s gone.

You stand in the same spot by the door. You finally met grace. The one he was with a year ago. The one he named his horse after, the one he kept unopened letters, the one he didn’t like talking about. She was here and she was beautiful. Were you just a second choice for him? And easy get since he couldn’t have what he wanted?

“(y/n) why are you standing by the door?” you hear tommys voice from behind you.

“I think I should go home,” Before he can ask why, you answer that question, “Grace came by.”

“(y/n)..”

“No this is good before we do something stupid, right?” You say trying to laugh it off, though on the inside your hurting.

“Lets talk about this..”

“Mr. Shelby we’re both drunk and not thinking clearly”

“You haven’t been drinking all night and I’m as sober as I’ve ever been.”

You shake your head, “Why did you bring me out tonight? Was it cause she said no?”

“I-I” For the first time Thomas Shelby was at a loss for words.

You sigh, “Ill see you at Epsom, Mr.Shelby”

And then you left.

Read pt.13

Tags

@babylooneytoonz @captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034 @ms-dont-care @owenniasstars @shikin83 @lauren-raines-x

#tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #Saved by the devil fic #fanfic

50 notes · View notes

freddiesaysalright · 4 years

Text

Soft in Love Part 8

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges.

Word Count: 2.7k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @benders-diamond-earring, @im-an-adult-ish, @anincurablefangirl, @kiainspace, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @god-save-the-deaks, @assembledherethevolunteers, @misslolasworld, @not-john-watsons-blog, @spacedustmazzello, @theindiealto, @riddikuluslypotter, @depressedbitchxox, @tenement-funstah, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @sarablog10, @johndeaconshands, @coincidence-ithinknots-blog, @simonedk, @queenlover05, @goodoldfashionedloverboyy, @the-claire-bitch-project, @kerouacsroad, @rose-writes-prose If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Y’all the drama is about to get so real!!!

Warning(s): Use of the word c*nt.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Part 8 here we go!!!

As it turned out, with Gwilym, making love properly meant incredibly slow, incredibly sweet, and just overall incredible. No one had cared more about you in such an intimate moment, and it made you fall for him all the more. As you lay in the afterglow with him, you looked up at his face.

“What are you thinking about?” you wondered.

He grinned at you. “I’m thinking about how lovely you are.”

You beamed and pressed your lips to his chest. His skin was still warm. You could hear his accelerated heartbeat.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“I’m thinking about how much I want you,” you answered.

“You’re insatiable,” he teased.

“Just for you,” you returned.

Chuckling he rolled on top of you and kissed you some more.

Weeks passed in this bliss. Giving Andrew space was the perfect excuse to not hang out at him and Sloan’s apartment. Although, you were pretty sure Sloan kept inviting you in order to get you to be friends again. However, more often than not, you were at Gwilym’s. You also frequently stopped by his office during office hours. Sometimes you had sex, but you usually didn’t while at school. Gwilym was too nervous about getting caught. You understood, but the thrill of it made it so sexy to you.

Of course, you still had your moments before class where you talked, and occasionally snuck a kiss in every once in a while. It made you so happy, you could barely contain your giggles.

Weekends, you also spent with Gwilym at his place. This worked out too because Sloan and Andrew worked on weekends. No one suspected a thing. Everything was falling into place while you were falling for Gwilym. And you were falling hard. You wanted to tell him you were pretty much in love with him, but the right moment never seemed to come around. And you wanted to be sure of your feelings before all of that came out.

On top of all that, rehearsal was going amazingly well. The art department had created beautiful sets, and the costumes were wonderful. You could hardly miss a note, it seemed. You told Gwilym in a private moment that it was his fault.

“My fault?” he’d chuckled.

“Yes, your fault,” you repeated. “You’ve made me entirely too happy.”

“Well,” he said with a smile. “For that, I will gladly accept blame.”

He had leaned in and kissed you so tenderly, your heart fluttered. Everything was perfect. Just perfect.

Daniel trudged after Edith as she walked down the hall to Gwilym’s office. He hated to be doing this but she had told him she’d set him up with another friend of hers - an easy friend - and he figured it was worth it.

“I still don’t see how you’re gonna convince him to let you play Esther for a night,” he said. “He and Y/N are super close, he’d never take it away from her.”

“I’ll convince him by using my womanly wiles,” she said, batting her lashes dramatically.

“Oh, yeah, because that’s worked so well for you before,” he retorted.

She glowered at him and his sarcasm and he only shrugged.

“Look, I’ll pretend I’m all for it while I’m in there, but I don’t think he’s gonna bite,” he said. “But, I’m an actor, I’ll make the case with you as convincing as possible.”

They reached the door and Edith came to a sudden halt as she reached for the knob.

“What are you waiting for?” Daniel asked.

“Shhh!” she returned. “Listen.”

He leaned closer. Through the door, he heard a steady rhythm of skin on skin. Some soft grunting. Then, a quiet whine.

“Gwil…”

Daniel cringed. He knew it was you.

“Y/N, quiet, darling,” Gwilym hissed.

“We shouldn’t be listening to this!” Daniel hissed to Edith.

“I just found my ammo,” she returned, ignoring him.

She turned on her heel and started down the hall. He jogged after her.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“To the Dean’s office,” she said.

“You’re going to tell?!” he gasped. “Why?! Y/N could get suspended! Or worse!”

“Exactly,” she said with a smirk. “With Y/N out of the picture, I’ve got a shot at the starring role.”

“Edith, are you serious?!” he cried. “Gwilym will be fired! You could ruin both of them!”

“Since when are you Mr. Morality?” she challenged. “Don’t tell me you’re still carrying a flame for her.”

“Look, she and I aren’t like that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about her,” he explained. “I wouldn’t wish what you’re about to do on anyone.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

His mind searched wildly for an answer to give her. She stood to gain a lot by removing you, but maybe he could use Gwilym as a way to soften her.

“Tell Gwilym what you heard,” he said. “Use it as a bargaining chip to get to play Esther for one or two shows or something. You can even say he has to end it with her and go out with you instead. But if you go to the Dean right now, all opportunities go out the window.”

“You’re right, Dan,” she said, looking away thoughtfully. “With this information, I can have them both at my mercy.”

“Yeah,” he said, nervous. “Think about it, okay? Don’t act rashly.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but then the door to Gwilym’s office opened. Daniel and Edith jumped into the side corridor and peeked around, watching you. You kissed Gwilym with a massive smile on your face, and he had one to match. They heard you say your goodbyes and then head down the hall, away from your peeping classmates.

Edith watched you disappear and then got a wicked gleam in her eye.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” she said.

“Right now?!” Daniel wondered.

“Sure,” she said. “This is my opportunity, and I’m going to take it. Before you can tell Y/N and spoil everything.”

She threw her hair over her shoulder and then marched down the hall.

“I’m not coming with you,” he said. “I can’t support this.”

“With this information, I don’t need your support,” she shot back.

She knocked on the door and Daniel sighed. He watched her disappear into the office and then took off down the hall, desperate to find you and warn you. Edith was right, he was going to try and ruin this for her.

Gwilym was startled to see Edith, but allowed her into his office. She took a seat on a chair across from him and met his eyes, mischief on her face.

“So, what can I help you with, Edith?” he asked politely.

“I want to play Esther for three nights,” she said.

He blinked. “Why would I take that from Y/N? She earned the part.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she returned. “You can’t refuse.”

“I am refusing,” he said. “I could never do that to her.”

“Oh, but you’ll fuck her?”

Gwilym froze. Edith smiled at him in such a villainous way it sent a chill down his spine.

“What are you talking about?” he said finally.

“Don’t play dumb,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I heard you.”

“You’re wrong,” he insisted.

“I’m not,” she returned. She closed her eyes and raised her voice a few octaves as she threw her head back and mimicked you, “Oh, Gwil…” She cleared her throat and donned a British accent “Y/N, quiet, darling!”

The blood drained from his face. How long had she been out there? He didn’t see her when you left. Had she hidden herself away? Just so she could come in and rob you of shows that were yours?

“Give me three nights, or I take this to the Dean’s office,” she said. “Then both of you will be out of my way.”

“Why not just do it then?” he challenged. “Get rid of us?”

“Come on, Gwilym, I’m not so evil,” she sighed. “I’m willing to play ball and at least let her graduate.”

He sighed, resting his elbows on his desk and putting his face in his hands. He thought you both had been so careful. This was his worst nightmare. And now, it meant you lost three of the shows. Either way, you were being punished because he was too weak to refuse you. Gwilym had never hated himself more than in this moment. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Edith.

“What nights do you want?” he asked.

“I knew you’d see it my way,” she returned. “I want night three, night five, and closing night.”

“You can’t have closing night,” he said flatly.

He had a few surprises for you that night. You had to be the star.

Edith glowered at him. “Why not?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said. “You just can’t have it.”

“I don’t think you can really dictate the terms of -”

He cut her off. “I’ll give you opening night.”

Inside, he was cursing himself. He imagined the look on your face when he broke the news to you. It would crush you. You would be hurt and confused, and how could he explain this? He couldn’t let you feel the guilt.

“Opening night?” she repeated. “Are you serious?”

Opening night was usually the biggest turnout. It was going to be a massive blow to you.

“I’m serious,” he said. “Opening night, night three, and night five. Those are your terms?”

“They are,” she agreed. “Let me have those, and I won’t say anything to the Dean and Y/N graduates with no black marks on her record. Deal?”

She extended her hand. Gwil hesitated. Could he really do this to you? Wasn’t it better than suspension? Expulsion? Loss of your scholarship?

He shook her hand.

“Pleasure doing business,” she said as she released him. “See you in class tomorrow.”

He just scowled at her as she left, wiggling her fingers as she closed the door. He heard her laugh before walking away down the hall. Gwilym had one more question: could he tell you about Edith’s blackmail? Or should he carry this guilt alone?

He decided on alone.

The next day in class, Gwilym didn’t meet you there early. You checked your phone, but he hadn’t texted or anything, so you guessed he was busy with something and didn’t have time. You scrolled through Instagram as you waited for class to begin. You other classmates filed in before Gwilym, who came in looking rushed. You saw him exchange an odd look with Edith and you frowned. What was that about?

“Morning, everyone,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Gwilym, you’re right on time with everyone else,” Sloan pointed out.

Gwilym met your eyes fleetingly. You knew he meant he was sorry he didn’t come early and spend that time with you.

“Right, sorry,” he said. “Anyway, let me just take roll.”

He began taking attendance and Sloan leaned over to you.

“Is it just me or is he fucked up about something?” she whispered.

“No idea,” you breathed back. “Definitely seems weird, though.”

When he finished with roll, he looked at the class.

“You can all begin wherever you like, but first I need to speak with Edith and Y/N,” he said. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me backstage.”

You and Sloan looked at each other, confused.

“This doesn’t sit right with me,” Andrew said. “Be careful, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Andrew,” you replied.

You got up and followed Gwilym and Edith backstage into one of the dressing rooms. Your mind raced with all the questions you had. Gwilym closed the door and then faced you both.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but Edith is going to be playing Esther for three nights of the show,” he said.

It would have shocked you less if he’d punched you in the nose.

“What?!” you cried. “Are you joking?”

His downturned mouth told you he wasn’t.

“Why?!” you demanded.

Edith opened her mouth, but Gwilym held up a hand to stop her.

“It’s just...circumstances,” he said. “She’s got opening night, night three, and night five.”

You actually stumbled backwards. Your chest felt heavy with this....this betrayal.

“Opening night?!” you went on. “You’re giving her opening night?! How could you? I’ve rehearsed, I auditioned for this part, and you’re just giving it away at some request? What’s going on?!”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I don’t have a choice.”

“What are you talking about?” you pressed. “You always have a choice. You’re choosing her!”

“I’m not, Y/N, believe me!” he said desperately. “Please trust me! This is for the best.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. How could he do this? Three nights? And opening night as one of them!

“Gwilym, please,” you choked out. “Don’t do this to me.”

He sighed so heavily, you almost felt sorry for him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You could see in his face how much he longed to take you in his arms and comfort you. Not that you would have accepted it. You were so angry at him, you could have spit nails. But mostly, you were hurt.

“Can you give me a minute, please?” you said, barely audible.

“Look on the bright side, Y/N,” Edith began.

“Save it, bitch,” you snapped.

She sneered at you and left. Gwilym lingered. Something was on the tip of his tongue, and you willed him to say it. To give some explanation for this. But he didn’t. He sighed again and left you.

You cried for a few moments. It wasn’t so much losing those nights, though that was devastating. Opening night was important. A lot of casting directors came that night to check out upcoming talent. What hurt more was Gwilym allowing this. What on Earth could she have said to him to convince him to do it? He clearly didn’t want to.

A soft knock interrupted your thoughts.

“Go away!” you called.

Whoever it was opened the door anyway. You thought it was probably Sloan and Andrew, but you didn't want to talk to them. They didn’t know about you and Gwilym, and therefore could not understand why this was such a blow to you. To your surprise, it was Daniel.

“Hey,” he said.

“I said go away,” you returned with a sniffle.

“I’m not a good listener,” he said with a shrug. “Look, I came in here because I know what happened.”

“Everybody probably does by now,” you pointed out. “Edith’s surely gloating.”

“Don’t be too hard on Gwilym, okay?” he said. “He’s just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me? By giving away my part?”

“He’s only doing it because Edith’s blackmailing him,” he said. “She heard you two in his office yesterday.”

Shock went through you. You stared at Daniel, wide-eyed and horrified.

“She didn’t hear -”

He cut you off. “I heard it too, Y/N. There was no mistaking it. You said each other’s names and everything.”

“Shit…” you breathed.

He explained everything. What they heard, Edith’s plans, and that he’d tried to find you and warn you, but couldn’t. You took it all in, feeling very sorry for Gwilym now. This was what he had feared all along.

“Why would she do this?” you wondered. “Even for Edith, it seems so mean.”

“Because she’s a terrible person who enjoys being a cunt for no reason,” he said.

You laughed a little and a beat passed.

“My advice?” said Daniel. “Break it off with Gwil. Get rid of what she holds over you.”

“I can’t do that,” you said stubbornly. “I won’t.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he said with a groan. “Surely you’re not so horny that -”

“We’re not just messing around!” you interrupted. “I love him!”

As soon as the words left you, you clapped your hand over your mouth. Your heart raced with regret. The first person to hear that should have been Gwilym. Daniel’s jaw went a little slack as he stared at you.

“Well, shit, Chip,” he sighed. “That’s different. Does he know?”

You shook your head.

“Look, the choice is yours,” he said. “Break it off, or just let Edith have her way.”

He left. You remained in the dressing room wondering where to go from here. Gwilym was always wanting to protect you. If Daniel was right, would this be your chance to protect Gwilym? Were you strong enough to let him go? Were those really your only options?

115 notes · View notes

malifikook · 5 years

Text

Gym Affairs

you swear the gym was never this exciting before.

pairings: Yoongi x Reader, (slight vmin)

warnings: yoongi’s kinda a gym trainer but not really, slight smut, vmin flirting, my poor attempt at a birthday gift fic for Yoongi (I know im a day late, bear with me), typos might be there, way too long to be a one part fic lol

You swear the gym was never this exciting.

Before it used to be boring and monotonous, a chore in your already in busy life that used up too much of your precious time. You knew that you were bettering your life this way, getting into better shape and getting that dream body you had always sighed at whenever you encountered a picture of it while scrolling on Instagram, but still, it was horrible.

Because the gym was sweaty and crowded, full of men and women who had the same determined faces that never smiled back whenever you offered one, and you had assumed that, maybe, the gyms were the worst place to befriend anyone.

Your assumption was quickly shot down when you met Kim Taehyung. Clad in fucking Gucci from top to toe, he was easily the most noticeable person in the gym. You had spotted him on his first day awkwardly staring at the treadmill with his hands worrying a towel that had a sign which awfully resembled two Gs.

“It’s not a hard equipment to master.” You had piped up from behind him, hopping to stand next to him and outstretch a hand. “I’m ____, you?”

“Kim Taehyung,” he had responded easily, grasping your hand before pouting at the equipment. “Do you know how to work this?”

Oh boy, did you. You had enough mess ups and falls from enough treadmills to work your way around them.

You had helped Taehyung that day, and you two had grown close quickly. You two shared everything the together, all your secrets and hidden stories, over lunches and coffees and even, rarely, sleep overs.

It was around two months after meeting Taehyung when you were jogging steadily on your usual treadmill, hair tied up in a ponytail in a way that swung as you ran. You felt Taehyung gaze at you, his arms propped up on the arm rests of the machine as he hummed in contemplation, his treadmill turned off.

“So what do you think of Min Yoongi from the front desk?”

You nearly lost your footing at that, stumbling slightly to keep up with oh so sudden fast pace of the machine, blinking your features back into place. “W-Whatta ya mean?”

“I mean,” Taehyung sang, “Whenever I bring him handsome boy, you always tense up like I’ve shoved some vibrator up your ass.”

You winced at the imagery, hand coming front to up the speed of the run. “My butt just clenched, please stop. And no I do not tense up, what does that even mean?”

“Oh you know,” Taehyung said smugly, wiggling his eyebrows at you when you spared him a disgusted glance before carrying on, “Well if you don’t make a move on him I will.”

You glanced at him, confused, focus now turning to him as you slowed your jog. “Huh?”

“You do know that I’m gay right.” Taehyung dead-panned.

At that you lost your footing and you tripped over your shoes, sending you flying forward and off the machine in a pile of loud smashes and groans as you rolled to the floor in pain. You groaned, hand coming up to massage your nose as you sat up on the ground. “Ow, fuck.”

“Anyways,” Taehyung continued, unfazed, as he turned to lean against the head of the machine. “Yoongi’s not really my type, so rest easy.”

“And who is?” You snorted - partly because you wanted to check if your nose was still working.

“Park Jimin.” Taehyung sighed dreamily, his eyes drifting off as if automatically to the dance rooms, and the two of you listened to the heavy beat that thrummed from the room.

You two glanced at each other. “He does have a great butt.” You admitted, giving back the cheeky grin Taehyung wiggled at you and just as you were about to ask him to help you up, thundering steps came from the side staircase before -

A panting Min Yoongi stood at the stop of the staircase, his striped t-shirt bearing a few wet spots that most likely came from the younger children who’d splash like maniacs in the pool area with his blonde hair messed up.

“I heard someone fall.” He gulped, regaining his breath before his eyes flicking from Taehyung to you. His eyes suddenly flattened. “Oh, it’s you who fell.”

Indignation rose up in your throat. “Excuse me!” You hissed. “Aren’t you supposed to be worried about me? Like - I’m on the fucking floor!”

Yoongi sighed, bringing a hand up to knead at his forehead before dropping his hand down to slap against his thigh. He glanced at Taehyung. “What were you talking about this time?”

You winced, having leaned back on your hands to relieve some of the pressure and your legs, eyes quickly flicking up to Taehyung. Your warning gaze had him stuttering for a second.

“Oh no,” Taehyung dropped his hands down from the machine to step off, bringing himself onto his tip toes as he exaggerated his stretch. “It seems like it’s my Yoga time. Toodles!”

You watched with your jaw dropped as the Gucci clad boy picked up his duffel bag and circled around Yoongi to get to the staircase, his gaze on you for a second to wink at you before disappearing down the staircase.

Unbelievable, you thought to yourself as you pushed to your feet. I’m gonna fucking skewer him the next time I see him.

“This is the third time, ________,” Yoongi sighed, and it was only then did you look up, startled, and studied him. The under bags underneath his eyes were growing darker and the shirt he wore seemed too big for his body. “You can’t keep doing this, you’ll not only damage the property but your own body.”

Your cheeks burned with shame, lips pursing around as you ducked your head, running a hand through your hair. Your eyes flicked back up at Yoongi.

Have you eaten? is what you wanted to ask him, eyes flicking down to your hands as your ears burned with embarrassment as Yoongi gazed at you again. Are you skipping your meals as usual?

But none of those questions left your mouth. Dissatisfied with yourself, you took slow steps to your bag, crouching down to gather all your items before pushing to your feet. Turning around, you saw Yoongi at the stairs, hand on the railing as he watched you.

You followed him down the stairs in silence, the change in the atmosphere so drastic you found yourself staring at the wooden table that belonged to the front desk of the gym thinking what did I do wrong?

“Hey,” Yoongi’s soft voice made your head jerk up and bring you back down to the earth. You met Yoongi’s relaxed gaze, a slight tug of his lips as he outstretched your card back to you. “Go home, I think you overworked yourself. Not to mention your bad fall.”

You winced, giving him back a tiny smile, before grasping the card and stuffing it back in your wallet, feet taking you to the exit.

“Goodbye Yoongi,” you called out, giving him a wave which he reciprocated, although a bit lazier, his elbows folded atop the table and his body leaning forward.

You stepped outside the gym, the air hot and stuffy and your cursed your choice of outfit, wiping a hand down your neck as you tried to shake of unwanted sweat.

Just as you turned around the corner, you came to a halt and yanked your phone out, your mind repeating like a mantra: I’m gonna fucking kill you, Kim Taehyung.

“So what you’re saying is - ”

“I’m not saying anything, Kim.”

“ - that if Yoongi were to come up and ask you out on a date - ”

“Oh my god, Taehyung, quit it!” you slammed your hand down on the bouncy ball, trying to convey your anger in the best way, only for the wretched ball to bounce up in the air and drop back down with a loud boing!

You two made eye contact and that set off Taehyung into a pile of laughter, his arms coming around his waist as he laughed. “Y-You really tried I can’t.”

“Stop talking about him,” you tried again, this time feebly, eyes flickering around just in case. The stretching room was right in the centre of the ground floor and if anyone was to stand in the front they’d hear you.

And the last thing you needed was for your gym trainer to find about your crush on him.

“Mmm,” Taehyung gave back a non-committal hum as he stretched, smirking when you glared at him. He just missed the ball you had thrown at him and you cursed your awful aiming skills in that moment.

A wave of vanilla curled right under your nose and without looking you knew who it was. Taehyung also seemed to know since his eyes perked up, body straightening, hands grasping the ball you had thrown at him.

“____!”

The famous brown haired dancer appeared from the entrance, his movements smooth as he crossed over the wooden flooring, gentle eyes meeting yours. “How are you?” he pouted. “You haven’t attended a single of my class since the new semester started.”

You laughed, unfolding your legs out as you bent to hold the tips of your toes. “I’m a broke college kid, Jimin. And your classes aren’t cheap.”

It was true. Park Jimin wasn’t just known for his good looks - although he could be; the guy was the definition of handsome, with his sharp gaze yet soft, warm smile, his tiny, slim body, but fierce and rough dance moves - he was a living paradox.

But no, Park Jimin was known for his famous dance classes. People from all over the country, and some real eager students sometimes from abroad, came and studied under Park Jimin. The boy was a millionaire at the age of 23, and yet he chose to hold his classes at a measly gym on the 23rd Block.

This was partly due to the fact that Jimin and Yoongi went way back. Many stories were recounted by Jimin on nights spent in the dance studio and you’d keep him company, and you found out that Yoongi had taken care of Jimin when no had ever offered to.

That, to your displeasure, did not help the stupid crush you had on him.

“Well I’m off.” Jimin smiled at you, walking around the circle you and Taehyung had formed.

As he rounded behind Taehyung, he leaned down, slowly and swiftly, to bring his hand down to tickle at Taehyung’s neck - and you knew from a hundred tickle fights that that was in fact Taehyung’s weak spot.

“Don’t be late for class, yeah?” Jimin murmured into Taehyung’s ear, the poor boy frozen to spot with his hands tightening the grip on the ball, his eyes fallen tight and chest halted mid-breath.

Jimin flicked his eyes to you, full of mischeif and mirth, and you gave him a playful frown, lips tugging up in the end when Jimin gave you a sly wink before straightening and walking towards the studio.

“Holy fuck.” Taehyung whispered after a minute, dropping back onto the wooden floor with his arms splayed out. “I think I’m hard.”

You rolled your eyes and threw your bottle onto the boy’s stomach.

A week later you entered the gym frazzled, your mind fuzzy and and your temper on edge. College was getting on your nerves and your friends were irritating you to no end. Did no one in college do their own work? Was it necessary for them to all the time ask for your papers hours before the deadline?

Mumbling some unpleasant words underneath your breath as you pushed open the gym door, you welcomed the warm air inside and,

“Hey there, loser. How’d college go? You’re late today.”

Giving back the smile Yoongi gifted you, you relaxed your shoulders and entered the building, making way across the carpeted floor to stand in front of the boy that leaned over the table with his arms folded to smile at you.

“College was shitty.” You shrugged when Yoongi frowned questioningly before glancing around. You took in the silence of the gym. “No one here today?”

“It’s half past eleven, ______,” Yoongi grinned as he pushed back off the table to point up at the clock that hung overhead. “Gym closes at twelve. No one’s here.”

“Oh.” Your heart sunk. You had been waiting the whole day to get back into the gym to take a few laps in the swimming pool, the muscles in your body aching to stretch. You sighed, tapping the wooden table with your fingertips. “It’s okay, I’ll come back tomorrow early.”

You had crouched down to tie your shoes, mind reeling. What else could you do - going back to the dorm was out of the question. You needed to stay away from that area as long as possible. Maybe you could crash at Taehyung’s? You never actually had been in there, but you had seen it through the window of his car when you once rode in his car.

“Oi.”

You looked up, fingers halting on your shoes, eyes making contact with Yoongi. He was bent over the table, fingertips pressing white against the wood as he poked his head off the edge to glance at you.

“I can give you thirty minutes tops, okay?”

You furrowed your brows at him, mouth twisting before the meaning of his words sinking and your features relaxed before lighting up.

“You serious?”

Yoongi smiled. “Get swimming, miss.”

The water wasn’t as cold as you had expected.

Nevertheless you had catapulted yourself into the water, diving deep and staying underneath before emerging up in a gasp, a smile making it’s way onto your face.

There was something relaxing of swimming - at least in the pools - to you. The water surrounding you, letting you loose yourself to your own world as you floated.

You did a few laps, some more intense than the others. Gripping the ledge of the basin, you pushed yourself off and did a few more back strokes.

“Pool’s closing in five, ___, get moving!”

You flicked around, arms splayed out, to see Yoongi walking across the edge of the pool, arms full of towels and shampoos. He wore a grin, those beautiful brown eyes making your heart stutter, even under the weight of the water that pulled you down.

A gear clicked in your mind.

When was the last time you had played a prank on Yoongi?

Swimming to the center of the pool, you floated around, hair wet and sticking the back of your neck.

“Hey Yoongi!” you called out.

Yoongi turned around, humming out a hmm?, expression blank and unaware to the scheme you had in mind.

“Do you think you could - ?”

You broke off mid call with a yelp, dragging yourself down by yourself, and straight into the water. All you saw was fuzzy water around you, your ears blocked and cheeks puffed with oxygen.

This is gonna be hilarious because

Yoongi can’t swim.

You saw blurred movements above you and a splash signified he had dove into the water.

Surprise filled you when you saw his body swimming easily to you, his worried eyes clear even through the water when he reached to you.

You felt his grip on your waist and lamely you let out a yelp, causing you to inhale a gulp of water, before you were yanked up to the surface.

Oxygen never tasted sweeter, and you inhaled in lungfuls, spluttering out the water that had gone down your throat. You tried to eyes clear your vision as you swung your head around to clear the droplets away.

“Are you okay?”

It was only then did you focus on Yoongi in front of you and -

Oh, he was so close to you, his hands spaced around your waist and holding you firmly in his grasp, his chest heaving as he breathed, brushing against your own.

Your eyes flicked up to his, lips sealed, hand coming up to press at his shoulder in reflex but the emotion in his eyes made you freeze, breath caught in your throat.

He was staring intensely through his wet bangs, lips parted as he panted, throat swallowing as he inspected your whole face.

“_______, are you with me?” Yoongi shook you slightly and you jerked out of your haze, nodding quickly to answer him, lips still shut as you blinked up at him.

“What’s wrong, why aren’t you talking?” Yoongi frowned, one hand coming up to grasp your chin and tilt you closer. “Ah, I bet you swallowed some water from...”

He broke off, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, settling there and maintaining eye contact with you. You felt his grip on your waist tighten, blunt fingertips digging harder, and pulling you closer.

Your hands settled against his shoulders, your heartbeat tripping and racing against your rib cage like a rabbit. You could feel your cheeks and ears burn, and you swallowed, glancing away.

“Fuck,” a garbled swear made your head jerk up with a surprised gaze.

Yoongi’s eyes were trained on your teeth dug deeply into your bottom lip. You quickly released it, harsh and ragged breaths leaving you as you felt how close you were with Yoongi, his nose nearly brushing against yours.

“Yoongi,” you finally whispered, gaining his attention back to your eyes. “Please.”

That one word seemed to set him off, cut the tension that had built up in between you two, and he launched himself forward, yanking you forward to his eager lips, grip bordering on bruising. You kissed him back with fervor, arms sliding around his bare neck - when did his shirt fall off? - and looping around, pulling yourself up. Gaining leverage, you kissed him back until your breath gave away.

Tipping your head to his neck when the kiss burned your lips too much, you felt him pepper kisses along your neck. His teeth scraped down your neck, one of his hands coming up to tighten on the back of your neck.

You moaned, arms tightening around Yoongi’s shoulders, heart pittering too fast for you to keep up -

Yoongi froze beneath you and your eyes flew open, gazing through water fuzzy vision at the clear water that surrounded you both and only then did the situation actually dawn upon you:

You had kissed your gym trainer.

With slow, careful movements, Yoongi brought you back down to eye level. Swallowing, you refused to look at him, eyes trained on the dip of his collarbone and fuck that wasn’t helping.

“Hey.” he whispered, hand coming up to rub soothingly at your arm. You finally wrenched your gaze up to him. His gaze was void of any lust he was full of before, just the usual concern, and your heart sunk. He hadn’t felt anything right? Or was he regretting it? “Go shower yeah? I’ll close up the swimming pool.”

Nodding, you pulled yourself away, somehow feeling colder all of a sudden, and wading over to the edge of the pool. Glancing back, you took in Yoongi’s pale back and your heart beat tripped: he was giving you the space to pull yourself out of the water without feeling conscious of the clinging material to your body. You had said that years ago, when you had first met him. How had he still remembered?

Pushing off the the cement edge and into the cold air, you tugged at the wet material off of your body as you scampered over to the showering room. Teeth chattering, your heart beated in rhythm to your shaking body.

In there, you stood under the hot shower for well over five minutes, swallowing as you thought back to the way Yoongi’s lips had felt kissing and mapping out scenarios over your skin, the way his hot breath had panted into your ear. A hundred and one scenarios ran through your mind and you groaned, thudding your head against the wall.

The ache in your core demanded your attention, and your eyes flicked to the door where you knew Yoongi was waiting for you. Steeling yourself that you’d leave here without touching yourself, you moved to turn off the shower when you froze.

You hadn’t brought your bag into the showers. You had no spare clothes to change into.

Cursing out a long sentence of expletives, you ran a hand through your hair frustratedly before glancing at the door. You had no choice but to ask Yoongi to fetch your clothes for you.

Oh my god you really had to do this. You let out an agitated whine, thumping yourself on the head for being a dumb ass.

“Okay,” you spoke to yourself after a minute, shaking your limbs. “You can do this.”

Padding over the tiled bathroom, you opened the door a notch and slowly poked your head out. “Yoongi..?”

And there he was, sitting on one of the long beach chairs, eyes trained on the water with his hands behind up propping him up. When you called him his eyes snapped to you, flicking down to the bare expanse of your neck before quickly gazing back into your eyes. “Yeah? Everything okay?”

“Um.” You had no idea how to put it politely, or discretely, your cheeks flaming as you glanced down at the water puddles forming at your feet. “Could you get my bag?”

“Huh?” Yoongi sat up, head tilted to the side at your mumbling. “I can’t hear you.”

You closed your eyes, fiercely trying to ignore the way your ears went red and curling your toes, you opened your eyes and looked back at him through the space. “My bag. I left my bag upstairs. I don’t have my clothes. Do you think you could get it for me?”

Yoongi’s eyes widened a fraction when he finally heard you, and you saw the way his eyes twitched to blink down at your neck before he got to his feet. Footsteps bringing him closer to you, he brought his hands down in front of him to pull his shirt off. “Here.”

“W-What’re you doing?” you jerked back, eyes wide and desperately trying to stay focused on his face. Which proved to be a hard task when he raised his hand to ruffle through his damp hair.

“Wear this for now.” Yoongi pushed it into your hands. “I’ll be right back with your bag.”

You clenched the fabric in your hands, glancing down at the shirt, and nodded, turning back into the washroom to change. Pushing the door shut with your back, you rested against it and held up the shirt. It was a simple dark blue shirt, nothing too fancy.

Get over it you shook your head. Just wear the shirt. He clearly pulled away from you. He doesn’t see you that way.

A twinge ached at your heart, and you caught your somber face in the mirror of the washroom before sighing and slipping the shirt over your head. It fit you, showing your legs enough for you to hold your hands down to tug it lower.

Slipping out of the room, you stood in front of the door, hands clutching your wet and sodden swimming clothes, bare feet tickling against the tiled floor. You stared at the water of the pool, ripples drifting across the surface, and you could feel your tiredness catching up to you.

Footsteps made you look up and you saw Yoongi jog down the stairs, duffel bag slung over his shoulder as he seemed lost in his thoughts.

“Found it?” you hoarsely teased out, making him glance up.

Yoongi stopped in his tracks a couple steps away from you, hand gripping the strap of the bag as he stared at you, eyes dark, flicking up and down you before looking back into your eyes.

“You,” he croaked before clearing his throat. “You don’t have any clothes in your bag. Did you not pack for swimming?”

You stared at him, jaw dropping, hands releasing the fabric you were clutching and you crossed over to him, unzipping the bag to peer down and-

Nothing. There was nothing in your bag.

“Fuck.” You swore under your breath, hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck. How fucking dumb were you? How could you forget a pair of clothes when you knew you were going to go swimming?

Anxiety and frustration rose in your body. You were never this forgetful, what made you loose focus and skip prepping your bag the night before -

“Oh right!” it hit you and you threw your hands up in exasperation. “Fucking Kris pissed me off so much he made me forget to pack my bag right fuck - ”

“Kris?”

Your eyes flickered to Yoongi. He was standing with his head cocked, eyes still dark and dangerous, but now his hand tightening on the strap of your bag.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied, shifting from one foot the other, hand slowly drifting down from your neck. “My roommate. I got into a fight with him tonight - ”

“About?” Suddenly Yoongi was taking steps forward and reflexively you stumbled back for every step he took, eyes wide and going up to his, seeing the way his eyebrows were furrowed.

“How does that even matter?” You raised an eyebrow, acutely aware of the cold air pricking at your bare legs and raising goosebumps to the flesh, feeling the cold brush of the wall behind your back. “He’s just a roommate, Yoongi.”

“Fuck do you know what you do to me?” Yoongi whispered, bringing his hand up to tuck a loose hair behind your ear. His eyes flicked to yours and he inhaled, leaning closer till your noses brushed. “You have no fucking clue about how much you affect me.”

The air around you two seemed to increase a few degrees, the limited space decreasing between your chests and you found yourself growing light headed the closer Yoongi neared. Something was bubbling inside of you, had been simmering since he kissed you, but now you needed more, needed to touch him, to feel him.

“You don’t have a clue either,” you whispered back, lashes brushing against your skin as your gaze flickered from his lips to his eyes. When he held a questioning gaze, you carried on, “About how much you affect me as well. Whenever I see you at the entrance you make me feel so light and relaxed and when you kissed me I think I lost it but you pulled away and I don’t know if I’m reading the signs wrong because please tell me if I’m reading it wrong - ”

Hands buried themselves into your hair and yanked you against Yoongi’s harsh lips, pushing you up and into him. Without hesitancy you kissed him back, arms slipping around his neck, his soft, pink lips pressing roughly against yours, making you moan out in pleasure.

Yoongi was pushing you back against the wall, lips never leaving yours, head tilting as he gave you mini kisses before letting his tongue come out to lick at your lips. The weak groan you let out made him smirk, the hands in your hair rubbing soothly against your scalp before he fisted a handful, yanking you back to look him in the eyes.

“Oh sweetie,” he murmured, nose gently rubbing yours as he breathlessly smiled. “I’ll make it pretty clear soon enough.”

#yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #bts #bts fic #bts smut #bts series #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #jimin #taehyung #vmin #jungkook #forgive any typos

136 notes · View notes

spidergwenstefani · 5 years

Text

Finals Week

This is a really self-indulgent semi sequel to this ficlet I wrote a little while ago about theatre major Bucky and frat bro Clint. Apparently this is gonna be the AU i use for pointless fluffy comfort now bc I’m stressed with finals essays and these boys are helping.

I definitely shifted some background characters around since the last fic sorry steve but i don’t super care so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bucky spins his desk chair around in a lazy circle, watching the moon shining through his apartment window blur into a bright stripe with the rest of his surroundings. Someone on the floor above him has tuned their Spotify to some kind of low-fi study playlist, and Bucky feels genuinely relaxed for the first time in… months, actually.

This last week has been rough. Nearly all of his finals ended up scheduled on the same Friday and Natasha had to actually hold him back from leaping out the library window on Thursday night. It worked out alright. The Lighting Design 201 presentation had gone off shockingly well, the History of Stage Design final was way easier than expected, and his group project for Gender in Shakespeare really pulled through in the end. He half-assed the conclusion for his Dramaturgy essay, but there was only so much he could say about August Wilson without the professor realizing he was just spitting his class notes back at him. So now he’s done. A whole five days before the semester ends, too. It feels like a thousand-pound weight has been lifted off Bucky’s shoulders. He hums along to the slow jam echoing down from his upstairs neighbor, scooping up his phone to check his messages.

Nat (3 hours ago) Congrats on being done with finals

Nat (3 hours ago) If you didn’t turn that gd Fences essay in on time I will climb in through your window and strangle you in your sleep

Steve (2 hours ago) Hey! Me and some buddies were planning on going out for pizza around 7 tomorrow. Do you wanna come with? You can bring Clint so you don’t have to listen to grad students all night.

Steve (2 hours ago) Please say yes. I don’t want to listen to grad students all night.

Nat (42 minutes ago) Have you heard from Clint? He hasn’t answered my texts in hours. Not sure if I should be concerned

Nat (40 minutes ago) Send him a dick pic and see if that gets a response

Clint (3 minutes ago) im fckin dropping uot

Bucky ignores Steve and Natasha for now, typing out a quick response to Clint.

Bucky Well I’m done with finals

Bucky Can I convince you to stay in college with some fantastic Fuck Dramaturgy victory sex?

Clint i dont kno what htat is

Bucky I’ve explained Dramaturgy to you like five times

Clint i cant remembr

Clint what day is it

Clint bucky im dyin :’(

Bucky rolls his eyes, grabbing the keys off his desk and pulling on his sneakers. He would have preferred to avoid the Greek side of campus today if at all possible, but he has an idiot boyfriend to console.

Bucky omw

>>==========>

Beta Theta Pi is, as far as frat houses go, not the absolute worst. It had still been kind of a shock when Bucky realized Clint actually lives up to his frat bro vibes. Not only lives up to them but embraces them with the same enthusiasm Clint has for any other thing he cares about. Bucky could probably do PR for the Beta charity drives by now after how much Clint has gushed about them. Lord knows he’d do a better job than fucking Pietro.

Bruce answers the door on Bucky’s third knock, looking surprised to see him and vaguely stoned.

“Bucky?” he says after he gets a few blinks out of his system. Bucky wonders if it’s such a good idea to be smoking in his letterman jacket. Coach Fury’s been known to have a nose like a bloodhound. “Clint didn’t say you were coming over.”

“Has he said anything at all in the last twelve hours?” Bucky asks, shouldering past Bruce because he knows he won’t move on his own. Bruce is actually his favorite of Clint’s brothers. He’s chiller than any offensive lineman has a right to be. He does yoga, for fuck's sake. It’s probably the copious amounts of weed that mellow him out in the end, though.

“I dunno,” Bruce says, still blinking his way back to the present. He gives Bucky a slow smile as he shuts the door behind them. “Do you want tea? I made tea.”

“Maybe later,” Bucky says, because he’s just spotted Rumlow studying at the dining table and that’s the one Beta guy he genuinely doesn’t want to see today. He heads for the stairs.

“Wanna play Smash Bros?” Bruce asks as Bucky bolts for the second floor.

“Maybe later,” he shouts over his shoulder.

Clint’s room is at the far end of the hallway, and Bucky frowns at the closed door. Clint’s the kind of endearingly codependent guy that keeps his door open unless absolutely necessary, never wanting to miss out on anything that might be blocked by a thin layer of wood.

He knocks more as a warning than anything, letting himself in and shutting the door softly behind him. All the lights are off and nothing but moonlight illuminates Clint spread dramatically across the floor, staring up at his ceiling fan like he’s hoping it’ll fall on him.

“Fucking Christ,” Bucky mutters, mostly because he’s not sure Clint even heard him come in.

“I’m gonna die,” Clint answers from the floor. “Statistics is actually gonna kill me.”

“You can’t die,” Bucky says, leaning back against the door. “My mom will be crushed if I don’t bring you home for spring break.” The moonlight is making the angles of Clint’s face look especially soft, and Bucky takes a moment to watch him pout before sinking down onto the floor.

“No, it’s too late. I’m dying,” Clint says, shifting to make room on the rug as Bucky crawls over to him. He wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and plants a quick kiss on his forehead before turning his glazed look back up at the ceiling fan. “You’ll come to my funeral, right?”

“Obviously,” Bucky snorts, sliding his hands under Clint’s t-shirt. He knows his fingers are ice cold, but Clint doesn’t even flinch.

“Wear black, okay? Something sexy, so my enemies get jealous of the hot piece of ass I bagged before kicking the bucket.”

“Should I cry?” Clint hasn’t seen Bucky act yet, but he’s totally going to audition for The Laramie Project next semester and blow his fucking mind.

“As much as possible. Maybe mention how much you’ll miss my massive dick.”

“I will,” Bucky says emphatically. He looks up at the ceiling fan and takes a deep breath, doing his best to bring tears to his eyes. “I’ll never love another dick as much as I loved his.” Bucky’s voice comes out impressively choked up. “I’m cursed to a life of longing. The only man who can satisfy me is lost forever.” Bucky blinks a single tear down his cheek, and Clint’s staring at him when he finally turns back.

“Holy shit,” Clint says, moving to wipe at Bucky’s cheeks like he’s actually worried about him. “Do exactly that, please. When did you learn how to cry on command?”

“When my third sister was born,” Bucky answers smugly. “I didn’t appreciate how much more attention tutus and pigtails got, so I had to find my own edge.”

“Becca’s sent me a few pictures that say you still cashed in on tutus and pigtails.” Clint rolls onto his side so he can face Bucky better, pulling him closer with a hand around his waist.

“I rocked those butterfly clips better than she could ever dream,” Bucky says, and Clint buries his laugh in Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky runs a hand up and down Clint’s back. “What day is your Stats final?” That earns him a despondent groan.

“Monday. I’m so gonna fail.” Clint’s voice is muffled by Bucky’s sweatshirt. “Why the fuck did I decide on a Business major?”

“Because you’re smart,” Bucky insists. Clint shakes his head weakly against his shoulder and Bucky smacks him lightly on the arm. “You are. You’re smart and practical, and once you have your diploma you and Nat can move to New York and open your gym.”

Clint mumbles something into his sweatshirt that Bucky doesn’t quite catch.

“What?” he asks, and he tugs the back of Clint’s shirt just enough to get him to scoot backward and speak clearly.

“I said you’ll be there too,” Clint repeats, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Bucky’s side and making an effort to keep his eyes anywhere but on Bucky’s. “Designing costumes on Broadway. Having a meltdown every other day.”

“Exactly,” Bucky says, and Clint looks up long enough to give him a hesitant smile. “And on tech week I’ll gripe to you all night long and make you rub my feet.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Clint says, and his voice is too soft to be joking. Bucky leans forward to kiss him. Clint brings his hand up to Bucky’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheek while they lose themselves for a moment or two.

“It’ll be awesome,” Bucky says once he’s pulled away. “And all you have to do is pass one dumb Stats final. It’s all easy street after that.”

“No it’s not,” Clint says, but his face doesn’t seem quite as pinched with worry. Bucky shrugs one shoulder.

“Maybe not, but this is all you have to think about right now. And even if you don’t pass, which you will, Momma Barnes will be waiting at the train station, ready to fill that void of disappointment with cookies and brisket. They offer Stats over the summer. You can even get Bruce to help you study.”

Clint smiles a little easier and presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

“Bruce offered to help me study earlier this week, actually.” Bucky raises his eyebrows at him.

“And you’re not taking him up on it? Bruce is pretty much Einstein. You know that, right? What are you doing in here when you could be getting schooled on Stats in the library?”

“Well, you’re here,” Clint says and Bucky just knows his smile goes all dopey at that. “And I think even Einstein would struggle with Stats after smoking that much weed.”

“You’ll study with him tomorrow though, right?” Bucky’s not going to let Clint throw him off that easy. Clint rolls his eyes, but he nods. “Steve invited us to get pizza tomorrow. I’ll pay, as a reward for studying.”

“Steve invited us, or Steve invited you?” Clint asks, scrunching up his nose. Bucky snorts, shoving at Clint half-heartedly.

“Steve invited us. To go out with him and his friends. I dunno why you hate him so much. He thinks you’re pretty cool.”

“I don’t hate him,” Clint says defensively, but he still shifts forward to wrap his arms possessively around Bucky. “I just want to make sure he knows that the position of Bucky’s Buff Blond Boyfriend is already happily filled. Also, fuck him. I’m really cool.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky says. He’s kind of stuck in Clint’s steel trap of a hug. “It’s not like that. First of all, I don’t date grad students, and second of all we totally have more of a big brother-little brother sort of thing going on. I think he’s more into Tony, anyway.”

“Aw, gross,” Clint laughs, letting Bucky out of his death grip. “They deserve each other.”

“People probably say the same thing about us,” Bucky says. Clint grins at him, opening his mouth to share some kind of smart-ass response. A knock on the door cuts him off and makes them both jump.

“Do you guys have pants on?” Bruce’s voice comes through the door way louder than necessary. “If you don’t, sorry. Keep doing your thing or whatever. We’re starting a new Smash tournament, though, if you wanna join.”

“No, Bruce. C’mon man,” Bucky hears Sam say, and there’s the sound of scuffling feet like Sam’s trying to yank Bruce back from the door. “They’re probably having their own Smash tournament in there.”

“Bucky would have invited me,” Bruce insists, and Clint sits up with a laugh.

“We have pants on, Bruce,” he calls, and the door opens a moment later.

“Are you guys just sitting in the dark?” Bruce frowns down at Bucky, who’s still sprawled across the rug.

“Yeah,” Clint says, and then because he catches Bucky’s meaningful look, “Are you busy tomorrow? Think you could help me with Stats?”

“Yeah,” Bruce says, smiling easily. Bucky thinks Clint looks relieved, like he actually thought Bruce might say no. “We can go to the library.”

“Alright, Bruce.” Bucky stands up, offering a hand and hauling Clint to his feet too. “Let’s smash. I call the pink controller.”

#my fics #winterhawk #rated: g #college au #wait have I been remembering to rate my fics lately #i didn't even realize i was making a hulk smash pun until the very end #i was just thinking about all the frat houses ive been to where they do nothing but play super smash bros #also clint is definitely the friend that switches off autocorrect despite needing it the most #im sorry if his shitty texting hurts anyone's brain

74 notes · View notes

dragonterriers · 6 years

Note

you go to allegheny college right? im just wondering what it’s like over there im accepted but idk if i should go or not bc im worried i wont fit in whats ur experience like over there?

Hello friend!Boy howdy this is a complicated question, it’s gonna have a long answer so hold onto your ramen cause we’re going for a rideI really love the people here. That’s why a lot of people come- you can usually settle into a group of friends pretty quickly bc a lot of the students here are chill af, and 96% of the faculty are the most caring individuals you’ll ever meet and they take your life, as a learner and otherwise, seriously. Professors regularly email you if you miss more than a couple classes to make sure you’re okay, everyone knows each other, the President almost always strolls around campus giving words of wisdom (and occasionally hugs!) to people. It feels like home and that’s why I like it. Additionally, the academics are rigorous and challenging (depending on your major, you will probably be writing papers regularly, most of which will be at least 5 pages; there’s also our senior comp, which is a research project akin to a dissertation and is usually 20-150 pages long depending on your department), but the professors are really there to make sure you grasp the content. And the financial aid is pretty good- it’s still hella expensive, but they usually toss you a good wad of cash to get you going. THAT SAID. There’s a lot of problems, institutionally; some may affect you and some may not, and since I don’t know anything about you I’ll just give a rundown and you can come back with any specific questions you have. First. Our Title IX office (which deals mostly with sexual harassment/assault/etc) is HORRENDOUS. Cases are extremely slow to even be looked at and solutions are rarely implemented. In many cases, people who commit acts of sexual violence are allowed to stay on campus, which often leads to the survivors leaving- we are a small campus after all and you’re bound to run into them eventually. Just last semester, we had a student who had two PFAs (Protection From Assault/Abuse (cant remember which of those it is), a document ordered by a county court similar to a restraining order) against him who was permitted to stay on campus after two separate girls accused him of attempted sexual assault. The girls had attempted to go through our Title IX office, but that proved so ineffective they ended up going to county court instead (which is a lot of extra steps most of the time). There have been countless similar cases of our Title IX office responding inadequately or extremely slow; a friend of mine sophomore year requested to get her locks on her room changed due to an incident and it took them over two months to do so. Tldr; I have a friend that works at the local domestic violence shelter and they were having a training where the question of where to direct a college student who has been assaulted for help. One of the non-college people brought up Gheny’s Title IX office and every SINGLE student in the room made it very clear that that is the exact opposite of what you should do.Generally, Allegheny tends to be reactive rather than proactive; they respond to individual incidents when they happen (albeit usually poorly), but never take steps to make sure they don’t happen again unless the student body puts ENORMOUS pressure on administrators. During my freshman year, a student was hit by a car at night, due to the fact that the main road on campus (which is also a main road into town) did not have any street lamps. The student was killed. After running a campaign about pedestrian safety that felt EXTREMELY victim blame-y, they did install some lights on that road, but none of the others, so the rest of campus is still hella dark and I would probably not recommend walking around at night for a whole lotta reasons. Our racial diversity is... disappointing. Especially faculty. We have two Black professors left on campus, I think, plus some other faculty members here and there (there were a LOT more; there’s been at least 5-10 faculty members of color that have left since I came here in 2015); no Native faculty that I’m aware of, a couple Southeast Asian, a couple Latinx, etc, but it’s pretty dismal. We can recruit faculty of color but they don’t stay for long; partially because the school doesn’t appreciate the efforts they make and partially because Meadville (the town we’re in) is not always safe for POC. That tends to trickle down into students of color as well. Queer/trans stuff- we’re getting there. We have two trans faculty members that I’m aware of (one of which is a counselor and one who is an associate dean), and a handful that are some flavor of queer. Generally, you can walk around campus with your same-gender partner or expressing your gender however you like with minimal problems, though I would be cautious in town. We have some limited gender-inclusive housing options and all-gender restrooms in many of the academic buildings; when I was working in the IDEAS Center (our multicultural office) last year one of my projects was to go to every building and tally the restrooms in every building, how many stalls etc and I /think/ we got all of the single-stall bathrooms converted into all-gender because of that? And we may look into de-gendering some multi stall bathrooms if we can. We have some work to do here but we’re getting there. All in all- it’s a really great place in terms of the people you meet and the education you get. It’s really great for networking because our alumni are super involved with current students and it’s really easy to get into jobs and internships if you utilize the alumni connections. The education is also phenomenal prep for grad school, since the work you do here is only a half-step down from what most places require for a masters. Everything feels really homey and it’s easy to find your place- but it’s really REALLY hard to find help if something does go wrong. If you haven’t yet, I encourage you to do one of the overnight visits if you can, as physically being here is what really gives you the best feel for the school in my opinion. If you visit here please let me know and I’d be happy to talk with you in person and show you around to all the cool shit they don’t show you on tours. Best of luck in deciding on your college friend!!!

2 notes · View notes