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winsmoke · 3 years ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝟎-𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧

Acclaimed photographer and virgin extraordinaire, Jaemin finds himself crushing hard on a girl working at a pizza shop. And by some miracle, they’re hiring for the summer.

⊹ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 7.4k ⊹ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 female pizza chef y/n x virgin photographer Jaemin ⊹ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 virgin au, college au, fluff, smut, angst ⊹ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 swearing, kissing, blowjob, university acceptance anxieties, unprotected sex ⊹ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 🦷 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 I’ve been working on this fic for eight months and I’m very proud of how the story and writing has evolved. I really wanted to show the delicacy and sugar rushes in a relationship. Thank you so much for reading. ⊹ 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | disclaimer | masterlist

　“Why are you staring at me,” you grumble. The paper cup holding your oolong tea was choking under your stubby fingernails. Crossing your legs tightly under the wooden library desk, you try to ease the building pressure between your thighs.

　It had been weeks since Jaemin had confessed to you and you had yet to talk about it. But you couldn’t avoid him because he had the same shifts as you and worse, you liked it. His calm demeanor had somehow charmed you.

　So when he asked if you wanted to study together, you couldn’t seem to turn him down. You keep finding yourself with him in various cafes and libraries with endless cups of oolong tea that Jaemin stubbornly pays for. You confess that it was nice having a composed presence while you frantically wrote and edited poems to submit for your graduate school applications. But his lip biting and long fingers could only keep you concentrated for so long.

　“I like watching you,” Jaemin confesses, his MCAT prep book forgotten under his twitching fingers. Good job idiot, you sound like a creep now.

　What did he just say?? You raise the cup to your lips, and eagerly gulp down the lukewarm liquid, trying to contain the violent twisting in your stomach. You look down as you wipe your lips and mutter, “I’m just writing.”

　“It’s just interesting to hear you read bits of your poetry out loud since you refuse to let me read anything.” Jaemin internally wipes his brow as a look of understanding and relief washes over your face.

　 “Uh, yeah. Well, it’s shit so I’m not showing you anytime soon.” Lowering the brightness of your laptop, you angle the screen away from Jaemin’s direction.

　Jaemin nods rigidly, urgently willing the boner under his notebook to die down. Needless to say, your long sighs and moans of frustration while writing had an impact on him.

　“Besides, you won’t let me see any of your photos,” you point out.

　Flinching, Jaemin looks away. “That’s different,” he mutters.

　At first, Jaemin was surprised to learn that you hadn’t already googled his photography which was widely available in various art and news publications. He shouldn’t be so protective of his work, especially because a photographer should want their pictures to be seen. But he can’t help but think all of his photos are private. And you somehow seemed to understand.

　“How?” you press.

　Thinning his lips, he mumbles, “They’re just–ah–not ready yet.”

　“You’re paid thousands to take pictures. I think that means they’re ready for me to see,” you grumble.

　A small smile curves up Jaemin’s pinched lips. “I’ll show you when you show me.”

　Huffing, you angle your laptop even further away from Jaemin and jerk your chair into the leg of the table. “Fine. You’re just going to have to wait until I get published then.”

　“Looking forward to it,” he responds softly, his piercing stare making you retreat your eyes to the safety of your screen.

　You swallow the whine creeping up your throat. Even though you enjoyed these study sessions with Jaemin, being so close to him was not helping your wet dreams. And keeping your legs tightly crossed to alleviate the burn between your thighs could only do so much.

　“So, um, what are your plans after you graduate?” Jaemin asks as casually as possible.

　Does he want to know if he’ll still see me? Nope, don’t put that idea into existence.

　“All I want is to continue writing... so I’m just applying to a bunch of MFA creative writing programs.

　“Out of state or in-state?”

　“Out,” you respond immediately. “Anywhere is better than here. I’m so sick of…” You pause to collect your thoughts. You don’t want to overshare. “What about you?”

　Jaemin shoves his MCAT book closed so you can see the cover. “Can’t you tell?” he snaps. Glancing at your raised brows, Jaemin’s shoulders sag as he sinks into his chair. “Med school for me. If I even get in.”

　“That sounds horrible.”

　“Well, it’s what my mom wants, so I don’t have a choice.”

　You nod slowly as guilt creeps up your chest. His dull expression says it all. You think you understand now.

　How could I be so stupid? He’s not in town for me. He’s here to study.

　“Look, I’m sorry for kinda being a bitch to you,” you say quietly.

　Jaemin laughs. “You’re not, I promise. We’re friends.”

　Friends. The word burns down his throat. He’s strangely resigned to the fact you don’t want to discuss his feelings for you. It seems you don’t quite trust him, which is why he’s trying not to push anything. Even though he sees you almost every day. Even though you look at him in a way that leaves him breathless.

　“But what about photography?” you ask, dragging Jaemin out of his thoughts.

　Jaemin hesitates. “I’ll take fewer jobs.”

　“But why? I mean, it must be amazing to be flown out to anywhere in the world.” you sigh dreamily, settling your chin into your hands. “The last time I left town was two summers ago. I went to California and wrote an ode to Yosemite like George Sterling. That place is surreal.”

　Jaemin laughs as he pictures you scribbling furiously on a rock. “Actually I’ve photographed Yosemite before. It was definitely impressive…” Jaemin rubs the back of his neck. But a little lonely.

　“I would give anything to go on one of your trips,” you groan as your gaze sinks back into your laptop.

　Jaemin bites his lip, disappointed that your attention has already wandered away. “Me too,” he whispers.

　“You wanna, I don’t know… get some dinner or something?” You tug at your ear, hoping your expression doesn’t look too desperate or anxious.

　The two of you study together every day now. With the school semester soon approaching, you’ll have less time to prepare for applications during college. But you’re not sure if you’re there to be productive or to spend more time with him. Between working at the pizza shop and your library sessions, you don’t think you’ve gone without seeing him for more than 9 hours. You’re not one to spend this much time with anyone but his company is… comforting.

　Disgusting.

　“Yeah,” Jaemin gulps, trying to swallow down the leaping feeling in his chest. Trying to shove one of his prep books into his canvas bag, he smiles at you. “That’d be cool.”

　It doesn’t matter that his MCAT is tomorrow at 8 a.m. If he knows it, he knows it.

　“You good?” you ask as Jaemin continues trying to jam his book into the bag.

　“It’s getting caught on something,” Jaemin grumbles. Successfully finding the strap that was catching the corner of the book, he gives you an overwhelmed smile. “I don’t usually carry around bags… but dinner?” he prompts again, hoping he didn’t ruin the moment.

　“Right,” you respond quietly, briefly closing your eyes to get the image of his flustered smile out of your head. “Wanna get ramen or pho?”

　Jaemin laughs. “In the middle of summer?”

　You shrug. “I’m feeling noodle soup.”

　Jaemin nods. He would say yes to anything you suggest. “Pho sounds good. You know a place?”

　“Yeah… uhh but I don’t have a car so…” You fiddle with the straps of your backpack nervously. Glancing down at his bulky rose gold watch circled with grain-sized crystals, you wonder how many cars you could buy with such a watch.

　“Neither do I, can we walk?”

　Always a surprise.

　Nodding, you type the name of your restaurant into Google maps and begin heading in the right direction.

　Falling into a comfortable silence, your gaze slowly falls to his hands swaying by his side. You’ve never been much of a hand holder but with Jaemin, anything was tempting. His fingers were thin and long, just as you had imagined…

　“What’s your body count?” you blurt out.

　“Huh?” He looks bewildered. What is it with you and these personal questions?

　“Nothing,” you mutter, unwilling to repeat the question again.

　“Y/n,” Jaemin laughs. “You know me pretty well—”

　“No, I don’t,” you scoff. You’ve only known him for a few weeks. A month at best.

　“—Do you see me with many girls?”

　“Just because I don’t see the girls doesn’t mean they exist,” you huff.

　“I go to work. I study. I eat and sleep. Repeat,” Jaemin shrugs.

　Maybe a month ago, Jaemin would be nervous telling you how plain his life was. But you’ve been with him every day for a while now. If you hadn’t gotten bored of him yet, well… he had you. Or at least he’s close. Hopefully.

　“Your life can’t be that simple.”

　“It is. But to answer your question, zero.”

　You fold your lips, trying to contain a pleased expression. But then you realize– “You’re a virgin?” I’ve been fantasizing about a virgin?

　Jaemin glances between your bulging eyes and raised hands. “Is it really that bad?”

　Realizing how you must look, you relax your body and mutter a quick, “No.” You mumble an apology and look at your feet guiltily. “I’m just shocked…you are, ya know…kinda perfect.”

　Jaemin shakes his head in confusion. “I’m really not. Far from it.”

　You nod enthusiastically. “Yes you are! Even though I boss you around at the pizza shop or I can tell you’re exhausted, you’re always kind and patient and–”

　Jaemin snorts. “Only with you.”

　Warmth blossoming in your chest, you try to force the gleeful feeling down but you can’t help it. An enormous smile surfaces onto your lips. And Jaemin can’t look away.

　A flush surges over his neck and up to his ears. Jaemin can’t help blushing when you’re looking at him like he's the only person that matters. It’s moments like these where he really thinks you might return his feelings. Jaemin glances down at his feet before smiling shyly.

　“You're really pretty,” Jaemin compliments sheepishly.

　The two of you are standing a stride away from the sidewalk but neither one of you budges from the empty street. Under the dim light of a streetlamp, the two of you are folded in your own world.

　“O-oh, you’re, you’re pretty too” you sputter idiotically.

　“You mean handsome?” Jaemin offers.

　You shake your head. “No, I stand by my statement. You’re ridiculously pretty.”

　“Uh, thanks?” Jaemin laughs. “But you’re much prettier than me.”

　“No really, sometimes I wonder why you even bother with me…”

　You gulp, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. You haven’t wanted to admit it to yourself but you’re insecure. The more time you spend with Jaemin, the more you like him. But there’s always that irritating voice that reminds you that you’re a very broke and struggling writer. How could you compare to a globally successful photographer?

　Jaemin frowns, his hand is reaching for you to reassure you but he stops. The two of you haven’t established physical contact yet.

　Stepping directly in front of you, he waits for your eyes to meet his before speaking. “I think you’re incredible. I’m gonna sound stupid but I honestly haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met.”

　Your lips parted in surprise, they look swollen and irresistible to Jaemin. Before his mind can stop him, he’s leaning towards you. Stopping inches from your lips, Jaemin wants to kiss you so badly. He wants to show you how much he wants you, but he’ll wait a second more.

　He smells so good. You can’t help yourself, he’s so close and his eyes are closed. Jaemin’s jaw is clenched as if restraining himself. But you won’t be the one to stop him.

　Leaning in slowly, you gently suck his bottom lip. A tiny breath releases from Jaemin’s nose and his hands fall to your waist. Raising your hands to his neck, your kiss becomes more firm.

　His lips are so soft and you can’t seem to get enough. Your tongue starts wandering and when it rubs against his, a hot feeling shoots between your folds. He’s pulling you closer, groaning quietly at the feeling of your chest pressed against his but there are too many layers and not enough skin. Jaemin is tugging at your shirt, trying to untuck it from your jeans but his hands are too weak, he’s lost in your warm lips and soft pants.

　The door to the Vietnamese restaurant bursts open and full customers sluggishly lumber to their cars. They’re too sleepy to notice you two reluctantly pulling apart.

　Realizing you’re still on the street, you pull Jaemin up onto the sidewalk. Now that your hand is in his, you can’t seem to let go.

　“Hungry?” you ask breathlessly.

　“Very,” he breathes.

　Being with you but not being with you at the same time is fucking with Jaemin’s head. And he’s never been happier.

　Yes, there is no label on your relationship but Jaemin knows you care about him. Even if you refuse to tell him.

　When university began, you convinced Jaemin to actually attend his classes. Despite hating his near-perfect attendance (whatever happened to the senior slump?), his grades have never been higher. With your help in his personal statements and a satisfactory MCAT score, Jaemin feels somewhat confident he would be accepted into at least one of the medical schools he applied to. With luck, you will be accepted into the same school’s MFA program.

　Although the two of you are inseparable, when it comes down to it, it’s a relationship out of convenience. The two of you have the same job, the same work hours, and the same college schedules. If the two of you are accepted into different graduate schools, Jaemin doubts you will continue seeking him out. He even quietly declines every photography job to continue seeing you every day. Fragile or not, he’s determined to keep your relationship as it is.

　Having declined a job offer before heading to your apartment, Jaemin’s body was urging him to reach for his camera and Uber to the airport. Grabbing his camera anyways, Jaemin resolved that he would settle the hunger in a different way.

　“Let me take pictures of you,” Jaemin announces as you open the door to your apartment.

　You immediately begin closing the door on his wide smile. “You’re asking to get thrown out.”

　Jaemin forces his way through the door before you can snip off a finger and pulls you into a hug. Rubbing his cheek against yours, he begs, “Y/n, please! Just a few!”

　“Absolutely not. You’ll take a picture of my corpse before you take a picture of me alive,” you deadpanned, unmoving in his arms.

　Pressing his lips against yours, Jaemin sighs contently as you immediately part your lips. Freshly showered, he breathes in the faint smell of your conditioner and lotion. Placing his camera bag on your kitchen island, he slowly backs you up to the couch. Eyes halfway closed, his hands eventually grapple for the couch arm and he sits down, pulling you down in the process.

　As you straddle Jaemin, your lips not parting with his, he moans happily. Why bother traveling the world when your body is his favorite place.

　“But I want to take pictures of you,” he whines into your ear before licking and sucking your neck.

　“You just miss taking jobs,” you groan as his kisses lower to your shirt line.

　Jaemin’s hands creep up your back, and after a ten-second struggle, manage to undo your bra clip. His fingers are cold against your skin but you’re so hot, you feel like you’re burning. As his hands inch up your stomach, you suck in your breath. You don’t want slow, you want his fingers, his mouth on your nipples, on your neck, in your pussy.

　“Maybe a little,” Jaemin acknowledges. He cowardly raises his lips back to your mouth, your untouched nipples throbbing for attention.

　“Take a job,” you say as you break the kiss, licking down his neck.

　Lifting his shirt, you pull his shoulders sideways so he’s laying on the couch and begin licking down his warm and hardened chest. When you suck his nipples, you can feel his dick prominent through his sweatpants. But it’s when your lips touch below his belly button that Jaemin can’t suppress his moans.

　“I–I don’t wanna le-leave you for too l-long,” Jaemin stammers as you raise the waistband of his sweats and boxers and pull them down. “I’d be gone for at least a week.”

　“Hmm,” you hum disappointed. You don’t like the idea of being away from him that long but it bothers you more that you’re the reason why he hasn’t taken a job.

　Not picking up his fully erect dick from his stomach, you lightly lick his dick. Smooth and thick, it drags slightly across his stomach as you lick it without steadying it with your hands.

　“In, please, in,” Jaemin requests desperately.

　Taking his dick in hand, you patiently raise your head. “Only if you–”

　“Fine, fine! I will,” Jaemin gasps.

　“Okay, good,” you grin happily.

　Lowering your lips, you lather your saliva across the surface of his cock with your tongue. Spitting into your palm, you pump him a few times before putting his dick into your mouth. Wrapping your lips over your teeth, you push his cock to the back of your throat. Feeling him grow a little more in your mouth, your saliva builds and you easily bounce your head up and down.

　“Fuck…fuck…it feels so good…” Jaemin moans.

　He strains his neck up with great difficulty, lips wet and parted as he watches you swallow his cock over and over again. Every ten seconds, he drops his head back onto the couch to let out a moan and more mindless words. You can feel Jaemin’s hips flatten onto the couch as he tries to keep himself from thrusting down your throat. Narrowing the space between your cheeks and his dick, you move your mouth faster down his cock, closing your eyes as you chase the base of his cock.

　Jaemin’s hands move to your damp forehead and weigh down your head. Taking sharp breaths through your nose, you propel yourself further down his length, your nose barely brushing over a patch of black hair at the base of his dick. You’re too focused on telling yourself not to choke and throw up to hollow your cheeks anymore. Your jaw fully stretched and your gag reflex over-exerted, you internally beg him to cum.

　“Shit, I–I’m gonna cum,” Jaemin groans pushing your head down a little more.

　You choke as his dick pulses in your throat, shooting down bitter cum. When his hand raises from your forehead, you raise your mouth and slump on Jaemin’s side, wheezing and coughing. The two of you lay panting for a minute before you wrap your arms around Jaemin’s neck, your damp head resting on his shoulder. Glancing down his chest, his sweats and underwear remain halfway down his legs and his cock is still bulging on his stomach.

　“How,” you heave, “how are you still hard?”

　Jaemin shakily laughs. “I dunno. But I can’t feel my lips…or my hands.”

　“Oh…”

　Hugging Jaemin tighter, you hide your prideful grin in his shoulder.

　You wait for his questions — Was that your first blow job? Have you had sex before? Have you been with anyone before me? But they never come. You get the feeling that Jaemin is only interested in the now. Thinking back to how you asked him his body count a month or so ago, you wish you had held in that insecure question. But you couldn’t help it, Jaemin was too pretty, too perfect.

　“So, when will you go?” you ask, trying to chase away those thoughts.

　Jaemin rubs a hand down his sweaty face. Now. I want to leave now. “I’ll take a job when the semester ends.”

　You can’t help but feel hurt by how content he looks. But you’re the one who suggested he leave. “Where do you wanna go?”

　“Anywhere,” Jaemin sighs dreamily. “Anywhere is better than here.”

　Rolling off Jaemin, you turn on your side.

　“Y/n? … No, no. I didn’t mean it like that.”

　“No, you’re right. Anywhere is better than here.”

　“Hey y/n,” Renjun greets eagerly.

　Pausing your sudoku game, you quickly set your phone down on the cash register. “Renjun…hey.”

　His eyebrows raise. “You know my name?”

　You look at him incredulously. “You’re one of Jaemin’s best friends. Why wouldn’t I know your name?”

　“Kinda doubted Jaemin would talk about me. Plus I’ve never really met you.”

　“Yeah,” you bite your lip guiltily. “Sorry, I know Jaemin hasn’t hung out with his friends much since we started working together.”

　Renjun grins. “Are you kidding? I’ve seen him at university like every day! He must really like you for him to actually come to class.”

　You rub your chin with discomfort. “Uh, I guess.”

　“Where is he by the way?” Jaemin glances at the kitchen window.

　“Somewhere in Venezuela for a job,” you shrug.

　“Oh,” Renjun’s shoulders deflate in disappointment. “I never know if he’s not answering my texts because he’s out of the country or if he’s just avoiding human interaction. He’s such an introvert,” Renjun laughs.

　“Not necessarily,” you frown, feeling defensive. It feels like you’ve spent an endless amount of days with Jaemin and not once has he struck you as introverted. Quiet perhaps, but even when he’s working, he always tries to draw you into a conversation.

　“Well, obviously he’s different around you. But I see Jaemin once a month if I’m lucky.”

　You nod slowly, not sure how to respond.

　Sensing your discomfort, Renjun begins backing to the door. “Well, can you pass on my congrats to Jaemin? I bet he answers your texts.”

　You scrunch your eyebrows. “Congrats for what?”

　Renjun’s expression brightens. “Jaemin might win a Pulitzer! Some of his photos were published alongside some groundbreaking news article a week ago and everyone is saying he’s sure to be at least a finalist. I always knew he was an incredible photographer but geesh - a Pulitzer, I mean that’s crazy.” Noticing your dumbfounded face, Renjun frowns. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

　“No,” you say as you shake your head. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

　Hey Jaemin, you type out into iMessage.

　Hmm, capital letters seem too official.

　You hold down the back key.

　hey jaemin

　I was wondering if we could talk?

　Fuck, just send it.

　After hitting send, you immediately lock your phone and roll onto your back. Your apartment ceiling blanketed by the night greets you. Scratching away some dried flour on your forehead, you groan softly.

　“I can’t just wait,” you tell your ceiling.

　Although unmoving, it seemed to agree with you.

　Sluggishly heaving yourself out of bed, you reluctantly turn on your kitchen lights and begin boiling some water.

　Once you and Jaemin transitioned from cafés to your apartments, he brought you a new oolong tea box every week. One of your cupboards held the various containers, sorted by shape, size, and color. He even bought you oolong tea candles.

　Rolling some of the oxidized plant into a tea bag, you slowly bounce it in and out of your steaming mug. As you sip your tea, the usual warm feeling of comfort doesn’t settle in your chest. Glancing back at your darkened bedroom where your phone lies, you wait for Jaemin’s text to brighten the room.

　Nothing.

　You wait till all the tea has been downed.

　Still nothing. Just an empty bedroom with a useless phone.

　Scratching off more flour from your forehead, you tell yourself you’ll get a text after you shower.

　Grabbing your phone, you begin peeling off your clothes as you head to the bathroom. No matter how hard you turn the handle, the water can’t get hot enough. About halfway through scrubbing your body, you give up. You need to look. Wrapping a towel around your body, you carefully dry your hands and then reach for your phone.

　Your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you see a notification. But it’s not a text, it’s an email. An email from Columbia University School of the Arts. Your top choice.

　Quivering legs bring you back to the kitchen. With your towel tightly wrapped around your chest, you boil more water and dip another tea bag. When your mouth finds the curve of the cup, no noise comes from your sipping lips. You open the email on your phone and cover your eyes with your hands.

　Peeking through your fingers, you read:

Dear Y/N,

The Committee on Admissions has carefully reviewed your application and we are very sorry to inform you that we cannot offer you a place in Columbia University MFA Writing Program.

　You don’t bother reading the next sentence.

　You delete the email and open your text messages. Blinking slowly, you examine your screen.

　Green. Your two texts to Jaemin have turned green.

　You open your phone app. In the Recents, Na Jaemin is listed on every single line. You could scroll all the way down and it would only be his name. Clicking on his name, it rings and rings and rings.

　You gulp down your oolong tea and pour more hot water into your mug.

　Your phone lights up.

　Clicking on the bubbled rectangle, you realize it’s another admissions email.

Dear Y/N,

On behalf of the Faculty Committee, I thank you for your interest in our MFA for Writers and Poets at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. I am sorry to say that we are not able to invite you to begin the program next semester.

　Delete.

　You call Jaemin again.

　Nothing.

　You boil more water and grab more tea bags. You haven’t eaten much today. After Renjun had visited you at work, you didn’t feel like eating. The caffeine in the tea is making your veins pulse and your fingers twitch. But still you sip.

　You call Jaemin again. It rings until you can’t bear hearing the sound anymore.

　Your phone lights up.

　Another rejection email and more silence.

　There’s no room for anything else but silence.

　“How was your trip?” you ask, not hiding the bitterness in your voice.

　You were closing the pizza shop tonight. A greasy tower of pizza trays, containers, and kitchen tools was stacked next to the sink and this was the last thing preventing you from going home and staring at your black ceiling for another three hours. And now, there was a boy with newly dyed hair standing in your way too.

　Jaemin steps next to you at the sink. The excitement in seeing you again quickly melts into concern. He knows something’s up. He raises his hand to your cheek to wipe away a streak of flour but he thinks better of it and sighs in defeat. “Pretty shitty.”

　With your hands grinding the foaming sponge into a plastic lid, you raise your eyebrows without raising your eyes. “Really.”

　Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Jaemin tries not to groan. “Yeah.”

　It was one the tip of your tongue, Take any pretty pictures? You wanted to know so badly if the photos he took were worth leaving you for. But you feared what he would ask for in return.

　Before he had left, Jaemin had promised to show you the photos he took when he flew back from Venezuela and in exchange, you would read him some of your poetry. But as you looked at him now, you couldn’t help but wonder - what could you read to him? Poems so uninspiring and dull that would never leave your journals or laptop? Poems so meaningless and boring that weren’t good enough for any writing program?

　“I missed–”

　“No,” you shake your head while slamming your palms over your ears. “I don’t want to hear it.”

　“You don’t want to hear that I miss you?”

　You shake your head harder, the nails of your fingers digging into your ear. You’re angry, no, infuriated, that Jaemin was gone when you most needed him. “Nope.”

　Jaemin frowns as he tries yanking your hands away from your ears. “Why, tell me why.”

　Slipping away from his grasp, you turn away. You’re blinking too fast but you swallow hard to prevent the tears. You don’t want to accept your failure but there’s nothing else to say.

　“I—I got rejected,” you whisper. “From every writing program I applied to…So, I’m stuck here.”

　Of course, you wanted to get out of this fucking job and town and continue writing poetry somewhere far more wonderful than here but there was something else. A part of you thought, maybe if you were accepted into graduate school, you would be somewhat on the same level as Jaemin. Then whatever was happening between you two could make some sense. But no, you’re too stupid, too plain, and much too insignificant to be worthy of someone like Jaemin.

　Jaemin sits next to you, looking flabbergasted. “How could they not accept you. I read your personal statements and application essays, and they blew my mind. You’re overqualified.”

　“Clearly not,” you choke. “I’m going to be in debt, stuck making pizzas forever while you’re becoming a surgeon–”

　“That’s not true,” Jaemin interrupts sharply. “I was rejected too,” he glares at you as your expression softens.

　“You were rejected?” you echo.

　Jaemin looks at his feet. “Yup. From all the med schools I applied to.”

　“When—when did you find out?” you ask slowly.

　“I only had access to wifi for like an hour while I was buying food in the capitol. When I sat in Starbucks, I was hit with rejection email after rejection email. Then…” Jaemin stops to support his head with his hands. “Then my mom called me,” his voice tightens before he turns his reddened eyes to you, “What was I supposed to say to her? Sorry I didn’t get into any of the ten medical schools I applied for? Sorry I couldn’t achieve the one thing she asked of me?”

　You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he buries his face into your neck. “I—I’m so sorry Jaemin.”

　“Anyways,” Jaemin sniffs as he wipes away a few stray tears, “I didn’t take any photos worth your pretty face.” He tries to chuckle but it’s strangled.

　You narrow your eyes. You remember your anger again. “What about that Pulitzer prize-winning photo?”

　What? Jaemin leans back to better examine your face.

　Impatient with his silence, you take a step back. All the insecurity and uncertainty have been rooted so deeply in your relationship with Jaemin. Because ... you love Jaemin. You think you always have, in a way. And despite his obvious adoration, you fear that you’re not enough.

　“Why the hell do you like me Jaemin?”

　Jaemin glares at you.

　“What kind of question is that? Think about it… why the hell do you like me?”

　You’re falling onto the freshly mopped floor. For some reason, you can’t stand being on your feet anymore. You bring your knees to your chin, soapy hands covering your eyes. You’re so tired.

　“I don’t know,” you whisper. “I just do.”

　Jaemin quickly sits beside you, wrapping himself around you. “Well, now you know how I feel.”

　“Jaemin, what am I going to do?” you whisper. “I didn’t get in anywhere…”

　Jaemin is pulling your hands away from your eyes but his hands stay on your wrists. His eyes on yours, you try shrinking from his gaze but his hands keep you close. Why does he always make me feel exposed?

　“I didn’t get in anywhere either,” he reminds you.

　You look down, shame slowly pooling in your stomach. All this time, Jaemin has always been considerate of you. It was time that you let go of your insecurities and start being considerate of him too.

　“Did you end up telling your mom?” you ask hesitantly.

　Jaemin’s gaze darts to the side. “No. I told her what she wanted to hear.”

　“How did that go?”

　Jaemin forces a laugh. “You know what’s crazy? She wasn’t even happy for me - when I told her I might get a Pulitzer.”

　You bring Jaemin’s hand into your lap. “I’m sorry, Jaemin.”

　“So then I told her I got into every med school I applied to. I don’t know why I lied. I think I just wanted her to be proud of me for once. But she sounded… I dunno.”

　You tightened your grip on Jaemin’s hand. He still hadn’t raised his eyes to yours.

　“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the Pulitzer,” Jaemin says slowly. “I was waiting for my mom to call me back because I wanted to tell her first.”

　You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry for getting mad about it.”

　“It’s alright, I get it.”

　You don’t like Jaemin’s vacant expression so you try to smile. “You hungry? I’m sure you had a long flight.”

　His eyes finally meet yours, a small smile tugging at the sight of yours. “Yeah, a bit.”

　“How ‘bout I make you a potato pizza?”

　“No, you already shut off the oven and put everything back into the walk-in.”

　You’re already standing up, determined to make him the best potato pizza. “Don’t worry about it, I open the shop tomorrow anyways.”

　“Can—can you cut it into a heart shape, like before?” Jaemin requests hopefully.

　“Of course,” you grin genuinely. “Whatever you want.”

　After a 30 minute process of waiting for the oven to reheat and preparing the ingredients, you and Jaemin sat in a booth together, eating pizza with one hand and holding each other’s hand with the other. The both of you ate without talking, mutually pondering your murky future. Eventually, Jaemin decided to break the tension. He wanted to make you smile again.

　“You know I used to stare at you in the kitchen from this exact booth?”

　You almost snort in laughter. “How could I forget?

　“In hindsight, I was such a creep. But since it worked out between us, I feel like it was kinda sweet.”

　You wrinkle your nose. “You’re just lucky.”

　Jaemin nods vigorously, squeezing your palm. “Definitely.”

　Letting his crust fall, Jaemin stares at his empty paper plate. He can’t remember the last time he ate something so fast. “You know, I think the last time I ate a potato pizza was when I first met you.”

　You slumped back against the booth’s cushion. “Whoa, same for me I think. I didn’t dare make one after Taeil got so angry.”

　Jaemin grimaces. “I’m sorry for getting you into trouble.”

　You shake your head. “No worries.” Wiping your sauced lips with a napkin, you sigh. “Besides, I’m in bigger trouble now.”

　Jaemin didn’t know what to say to make it better so you just sit in silence. But this time, the silence didn’t weigh as heavily with Jaemin’s hand in yours.

　“You feeling better now?” Jaemin asks quietly.

　You nod. “I’m okay if you’re okay.”

　For fucks sake, you’re an adult. You can tell a guy you like him. Especially one that flew you out to another country. You know he likes you so just say it!

　“Why are you glaring at me,” Jaemin mumbles, tiredly looking up from his laptop.

　He had been editing his pictures on the bed ever since you arrived at the hotel room. You were furiously scribbling down a few stanzas before you realized you were just ranting about being horny. But you were too anxious. If you kissed him now, you think you might accidentally bite him.

　Standing abruptly, you walk to Jaemin’s side of the bed and pull at his hand. He instinctively slams his laptop closed and looks up at you with surprise. Jaemin doesn’t try to suppress the soaring feeling in his chest. It’s been there since you slept on his shoulder during the plane ride.

　“Let’s go for a walk,” you demand.

　Jaemin shrugs. “Sure.”

　You need to get out of that hotel room before you accidentally scream at him that you’re in love with him. Walking at an aggressively fast pace, you don’t know what you’re looking for but you want to be alone with Jaemin.

　“What’s up?” Jaemin prompts gently.

　Something is obviously on your mind. He worries you’re still sad about getting rejected from graduate schools. Jaemin knows this trip is only a temporary fix and eventually, the two of you will have to face the reality that you’re both very, very fucked.

　“I…I” I love you. You’re stumbling on words, on thoughts. You want to say it so badly but you can’t. “…thank you for bringing me here. I really, uh, I really appreciate you.”

　Jaemin smiled tenderly. “Of course. Thank you for coming and I… I appreciate you too.” It was harder to say than he expected.

　“But you know, I would appreciate you more if you read me one of your poems.”

　You glare at him. “I told you, they’re not ready yet.”

　“I don’t care,” Jaemin whines, grabbing your hands. “Let me inside of that pretty head of yours.”

　“Absolutely not.”

　“At least name a date.”

　“A year from now.”

　Jaemin’s smile is so wide, it’s splitting you in two.

　“Don’t be silly, tell me a different time.”

　“A month from now.”

　He’s lowering his head to yours.

　“Tell me a different time.”

　He’s so close.

　“A week from now.”

　But he doesn’t lower his lips onto yours.

　“Tell me a different time.”

　“When we get back to the hotel.”

　Jaemin yanks your hand forward, practically dragging you back where you came. “Excellent, let’s go.”

　“You’re the worst,” you moan loudly.

　“Love you,” Jaemin sings happily while tugging you further. He doesn’t seem to realize what he’s said while trampling every plant under his impatient feet.

　“Love you too,” you whisper, a stupid smile filling your cheeks.

　You don’t know what came over you at the hotel. Instead of pulling out your journal, you found yourself pulling up your dress. You honestly didn’t care anymore about seeing Jaemin’s photography or him seeing your poetry. It would all happen eventually. For now, all you wanted was Jaemin.

　Once he had closed the hotel door, you had reached for his neck and brought his lips to yours. It was all happening so fast and yet so slow. You were tugging at his belt and he was kicking off his vans. All of a sudden you were on the bed with your shoes and socks on the floor. Jaemin’s hands slid up your thighs, only raising them from your skin to lift the hem up your stomach.

　“You’re so pretty,” Jaemin whispers as you pull your dress over your head.

　Too shy and horny to respond, you let out a shaky laugh before connecting your lips. The feeling of your bare chests pressed against each other is making you shiver but it’s not enough. Fingers tucking into Jaemin’s pants, you strain them down. He winces as they rub uncomfortably over his dick but he eventually kicks them off. Pulling down your panties while he tugs off his socks, you swipe a finger down your folds to make sure you’re wet enough.

　Pushing down a moan, you quickly wipe your finger on your sheets. Impatiently pulling Jaemin’s body onto yours, he squeezes his eyes when he feels your body completely bare against his. Pushing up his chest, you reach your hand down to grab his dick.

　Fuck. This is really happening.

　Your hand goes rigid around his cock while your heart quivers between your lungs. Desperate for some sort of movement, Jaemin clumsily rubs his pointer finger between your folds. Your grip loosening under his touch, you begin pumping his boner, pre-cum seeping between your fingers.

　“Is this okay?” Jaemin mumbles. He knows must be doing something right since your wetness is dribbling down his palm. But he’s greedy, he wants your sighs and moans.

　“Yes, please add another finger,” you whine against Jaemin’s ear while tightening your grip around his length.

　Groaning quietly, Jaemin releases your fist and pulls your back into his chest. Bringing his middle and pointer finger together, his strokes are more firm. You close your eyes and inhale his natural odor. Pushing your ass against his hard-on, you rub your legs against his. Eventually, your movements become soupier as you buckle under his touch. His fingers demand more skin, more space.

　Jaemin wishes the lights were on as he watches you tremble and moan. Your night-lit curves, warm skin, and long whines fill his senses. He’s never been so aroused, so hot, so hard.

　“I wanna be inside you,” he whispers in your ear.

　You’re trying to get words out but it’s not working. You’re nodding and turning your body so your back is now lying on the mattress.

　Emboldened by his words, you frantically push his dick into any space near your vagina. You manage to find your opening after several moans of frustration and unintentional teasing. Letting your knees fall to the bed, you breathe roughly when his dick slowly slides into you. You’re dripping but there’s still weighted friction. As he moves further and further, you twist your face in discomfort and ecstasy. It’s all too much, too tight. Your legs, shoulders, and stomach stiffen as your body tries to decide whether to reject or accept the pleasure.

　Kissing your face and neck feverishly, you let Jaemin ease the tension in your body. As you relax, his cock hits a spot that makes you both groan and all the pressure between your legs seems to melt away.

　Sensing that you’ve relaxed, Jaemin timidly thrusts. Your pussy completely slickened, his dick slides all the way inside. He flexes his stomach on yours, reveling in the way his hips feel against yours. “Oh fuck,” Jaemin moans. Wrapping his arms tightly around your shoulders, he presses deeper into you. Biting into your neck, he tries to keep his groans at bay. “Shit, I-I’m not gonna last long.”

　“It’s fine,” you reassure, “Just keep going.” You slip one hand in his and move the other down his back. It’s damp from his sweat and strained from his thrusts but you pull him down even more, trying to get closer and make him push further. Your mouth and legs are widening as Jaemin buries himself into you.

　Your pussy so warm and sleek, Jaemin licks wet moans into your shoulder as he barrels his cock into you. The trembling friction between your legs and the feeling of your naked chest against his keeps your back curving and juices leaking. Lifting his chest, he stations his hands at your shoulders. With additional leverage, his dick slams into deeper crevices and you whine loudly in satisfaction. Your moans are the only thing keeping Jaemin from cumming. He’ll wait till his cock is about to explode to hear them.

　“I’m gonna cum,” Jaemin huffs, raising his hips.

　You pull him back onto you, “Inside,” you moan. “Cum inside me.”

　Teeth clenching and eyelids squeezed, Jaemin pumps his semen into you. His taut muscles seem to slump into piles of nothingness and his mind is drained of all thought and reason. All he knows is you and your body.

　Collapsing on top of you, Jaemin heaves a satisfied sigh into your neck. “That was amazing.”

　You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck. Kissing his cheek, you settled your head onto his shoulder.

　After a few moments of comfortable stillness, you tap your fingers against Jaemin’s closed eyelids.

　“What?” he mumbles, eyes fluttering.

　“Mind getting me a towel?” you ask while shifting your ass slightly. Definitely still some cum pooling out of you.

　“Yeah, sure.” Jaemin begins to shift his body upwards before turning to you in realization. “Are you… sore?”

　You laugh. “Of course. I mean, it’s my first time having sex.”

　“You’re a virgin?!”

　“Well, I was.”

#jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin x y/n #jaemin fluff #nct dream fluff #jaemin fic #the 20-year-old virgin #jaemin scenarios #NCT Dream Scenarios #nct dream fic #jaemin imagines #nct dream imagines

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jerzwriter · 3 years ago

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Never Too Soon

From the Pregnancy & Baby Prompt List - # 20 Big words

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan) Rating: General Words: 600 Summary: Kaycee wakes up in the middle of the night to listen in on a conversation Ethan is having with their daughter. A/N: @simbralia request for #20 from this list E&K. @choicesjuly2022challenge Domesticity Day 30 A/N 2: I know the baby in the photo is not 6 months

old like the baby in the fic, but this isn't perfection. lol :)

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

Kaycee barely opened her eyes to wince at her alarm clock. 3:15 AM. She was quite convinced she’d never get a full night of sleep again, but at least Emma wasn’t crying this time. That brought a little smile to her face. She turned over in bed to hold her husband close, only to find he wasn’t there.

So, that’s why Emma’s not crying.

Tossing her legs over the bed, she pulled on her robe and slid her feet into her slippers. Yawning, she shuffled down the hall to the nursery to check in on her two favorite people. But as she neared the room, she stepped to the side, leaning in to hear better and doing her best to remain undetected. Her husband was having a conversation with their little girl, and she had to know what he was saying.

“… and that’s how I met your mommy. Now, repeat after me, Emma… thoracotomy. I know it sounds big and scary, but if you break it down….”

Kaycee covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, then she went back to listening as Emma cooed gibberish at her dad.

“Ah – ba- boo- ah – boo – ab.”

“Oh, Emma,” Ethan sighed, “I have to admit I’m a little disappointed. Ahbabooahbooab sounds nothing like thoracotomy. Try again… thor-a-cot-o-my. Try again.”

But little Emma let out another stream of incomprehensible noises, followed by a rather amusing raspberry.

“Emma, this will reflect poorly on your college applications….”

“Ethan Johan Ramsey,” Kaycee chuckled upon entering, “what are you doing to our little girl?”

“I’m trying to give her a leg up on the MCATs. It’s never too soon.”

“Hi, pretty girl!” Kaycee beamed as she lifted Emma out of Ethan’s arms, then sat on his lap. The grin on his face was broader than he ever thought he could smile. Cuddling his beloved wife and baby girl in his arms, he paused to take it all in… he was sure there were few moments in life that would be more perfect than this.

“Didn’t we discuss not putting pressure on her to be the best at everything, dear?” Kaycee began.

“Yes, but I….”

“And we also said she can choose her own path? She’s not required to go into medicine like us.”

“I know, but….”

“But you were teaching her to say thoracotomy at 6 months of age?”

“Be kind to me,” Ethan yawned. “It’s the middle of the night, and I have to go with what I know.”

“Fine,” Kaycee sighed with amusement. “I’ll let it go this time.”

“Well, look at that,” Ethan marveled, looking over his wife’s shoulder. “She’s fast asleep. She just wanted her mommy.”

“Nonsense! You were doing perfectly fine when I walked in!”

“Mmm. But perhaps you are right. Medical procedures might be too stimulating for 3:00 AM conversations. Next time, I’ll keep it to puppies and fairy tales.”

“That’s more like it, Ramsey! What do you say we put her in her crib and try to get some sleep ourselves?”

“I’m all for it, Rookie.”

Ethan watched as Kaycee put Emma on her back in the crib. After quietly raising the rail and checking the baby monitor, she extended her hand for Ethan to join her. Wearily walking back to their bedroom Kaycee looked up to her husband.

“Did you ever think this would be your life, Dr. Ramsey?”

Ethan’s yawn quickly turned into a snortle. “No. Never in a million years, but,” he stalled to take Kaycee in his arms, “I’m so happy it did.”

Perma: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @bex-la-get @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @danijimenezv @differenttyphoonwerewolff @dorisz @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @lady-calypso @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @parisa-kh @peonierose @potionsprefectt @quixoticdreamer1616 @rookiemartinn @rosebudde @schnitzelbutterfingersutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @sillydg @spookycolorpeanut @socalwriterbee @thegreentwin @trappedinfanfictionfanfiction @writer-ish @youlookappropriateriate @zahrachoicesoices @kachrisberry @fayeswiftie @choiceskatie @ofmischiefandmedicine @tessa-liam

OH: @aishwarya26 @onikaloverr @peonyblossom @toadfrog26 @jerzwriter2 Ethan Only: @cryomyst @custaroonie @gryffindordaughterofathena @mysticaurathings @queencarb @sincerelyscarring @wanderingamongthewildflowers @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#choices fanfic #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x kaycee #pregnancy prompts #fulff #domestic fluff #choices monthly chllenge #cfwc fics of the week

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aashiqeddiediaz · 2 years ago

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good luck with ur mcat!!🌺🌻✨💫🐈

Ah thank you nonnie!

#zee answers #<3 #i just gotta get through this #and then i can meet alie and pass out in peace

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court-mills · 4 months ago

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Ah, yes. That was why he had barely spoken to Parker in what had to be almost a year at this point. D&D. A group that had been rife with awkwardness as it was, and the aftermath of Penny getting kicked out - and then killed - something that Court couldn't quite face. Not that they were related. But they could be. If Court was right about Ollie, there was definitely a chance they were.

Before he could better think up with some response, he forced out a laugh, the sound slightly too high pitched for it to sound genuine. "Oh, you know," he said, shrugging up a shoulder - though she clearly was asking because she didn't know. "Just got too busy for it." That and he was pretty sure no one actually wanted him there anyways, Ollie's opinion sure to have been spread amongst the group by now. "Classes, practices, studying for the MCATs." Being off and on stalked by maybe one of the group members, though in reality he was involved a lot less than most of the people it seemed, which brought it's own time consuming concerns. "Just...busy."

the call had unmistakably been made in her direction, parker immediately looking over her shoulder to try and locate the source. sure, she'd been on her way somewhere, but that somewhere had been nothing more than to speak to the head of the theatre department whom she'd spotted on the opposite side of the space. she needed to—had been putting it off due to decision paralysis. though, fate seemed intent on stalling at least one last time.

parker fully turned to find courtney standing there, a grin instantly painting her face. she should've thought to look for him sooner, should've known he's also be here. "noted," she replied as her gaze briefly shifted towards the spot. "sounds like you've got the lay of the land." maybe she should've held onto the small talk for a minute longer, but before a decent pause could settle in parker added, "i've missed you at D&D. where've you been?"

#thread: parker #parker05

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sceptilemasterr · 3 years ago

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Endless Winter (ES Book 2) Act 2, Scene 5 - A New Year Dawns

Title: Endless Winter

Main Pairings: Estela x Ian (M!MC), Jake x Alyssa (F!MC)

Other Pairings: Craig x Zahra, Grace x Aleister, Michelle x Quinn, Diego x Varyyn

Genre: Full Rewrite

Rating: PG-13 for swearing, violence, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: It's New Year's Eve on La Huerta, and the Catalysts are determined to make the most of it.

Previous Scene: Any Port in a Storm

Masterlist: Link

INT. ELYSIAN LODGE RESORT - LOBBY

Several hours later, the sun is just beginning to set outside the windows of the Elysian Lodge’s expansive lobby, which has been completely transformed into an ornate party room, complete with marked-out dance floor in the center of the area. A series of tables laden with food have been set up near the walls, with a haphazard arrangement of various candles scattered around. Craig, dressed in a tight-fitting dress shirt and tie, leads Furball around the room as the little fox freeze a series of impromptu “ice coolers” around the bottles of champagne and other drinks scattered about.

CRAIG: Nice job, little guy!

FURBALL (proudly): Mrrrrrffff!

Raj emerges from the kitchen, dressed in a suit and tie with an apron over it, bringing another food-laden tray out into the lobby. Quinn follows close behind with a tray of desserts, a similar apron to Raj covering her ornate blue dress.

QUINN: Where should I put these?

RAJ: Over here is good!

He indicates a table, and she sets her tray down. Raj looks down at one of the fruit trays and frowns.

RAJ: Hey… has someone been eating all the strawberries?

CRAIG: Don’t look at me… but I think I spotted Alyssa usin’ some strawberries to practice her Time Lord stuff.

RAJ: Aww… (brightens) Ah, never mind! Good for her. If I know anything, it’s that the Time Twins are gonna be the key to getting us out of this place. Besides, there’s still a bunch more fresh strawberries in the kitchen fridge!

FURBALL (excitedly): Ffrrrruuulll!

A few of the Vaanti trickle in, all wearing haphazard mismatches of formalwear. Varyyn, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie, accompanies them.

VARYYN: Hello, Centaurus. I am told today is your people’s New Year celebration. I thank you for inviting us.

Varyyn bows deeply. Raj blushes and laughs.

RAJ: No need to be so formal, Varyyn! You invited us to your festival the other day, the least we can do is return the favor!

Michelle and Ian enter the lobby, chatting animatedly about school. Michelle is wearing a sparkling golden dress, while Ian is dressed in a black tuxedo with matching bowtie.

MICHELLE: --so I think you’d only need one more bio elective if you already finished Genetics and Ecology. And the MCAT, of course, but I’m pretty sure you can take that anytime…

Michelle’s voice trails off as she sees the newly redecorated lobby. Behind her, Sean and Grace walk in, chatting excitedly to one another.

MICHELLE: Wow! Look at this place; Raj, you did all this?

Raj turns and grins broadly at her.

RAJ: Yep! With plenty of help, of course. Quinn here was--

He stops abruptly when he turns and sees Quinn is no longer in the lobby. He frowns, puzzled.

RAJ: …Uh, Quinn was right here a minute ago. Huh.

IAN: This place looks amazing! Perfect for a Raj party!

RAJ: Haha, thanks!

ALYSSA (O.S.): Alright, let’s get this thing started!

Alyssa strides confidently into the lobby, wearing a long white dress with a plunging neckline. Michelle looks her up and down approvingly.

MICHELLE: Wow. Looking good, Alyssa!

ALYSSA: Thanks, Michelle! You too!

Alyssa frowns as she looks around the room, evidently searching for something.

RAJ: Hey, Alyssa, everything okay?

ALYSSA: Yeah, I’m fine, just.. y’seen Top Gun anywhere?

It takes Raj a moment to realize who she is referring to.

RAJ: Oh, you mean Jake? Actually, I haven’t seen him since--

A sudden commotion from the top of the lobby stairs draws Raj’s (and everyone else’s) attention. Emerging from the second-floor hallway, Jake, Estela, Quinn, Diego, Aleister, and Zahra stand on the landing, all fully done-up and impeccably dressed. Alyssa, Ian, Michelle, Varyyn, Grace, and Craig all stare open-mouthed at the sight of their respective significant others, completely lost for words. Estela frowns.

ESTELA: What? What are you all looking at?

RAJ: Hey, there you all are! Come and join the party!

All of them descend the staircase, though Estela is blushing heavily as she does so. She doesn’t look entirely comfortable in her formal dress. When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she beelines immediately for Ian.

IAN (stunned): I… uh. You. Wow.

ESTELA (shyly): I… I know Raj wanted us to dress up for New Year’s, but I never… really went to big parties or anything. Is this right?

Ian smiles warmly at her as he takes her hand in his.

IAN: More than right. Wow. Uh... I actually can’t even think of any other words right now.

In spite of herself, Estela giggles.

ESTELA: You… uh, you’re looking pretty good yourself.

Ian blushes heavily. Near the back of the room, Raj plugs his phone into the stereo system, but nothing happens. He frowns.

RAJ (frustrated): Damn, and here I thought this would work…

Craig and Zahra approach him.

CRAIG: Man, can’t believe it’s been a whole year already.

ZAHRA (frowning): …It hasn’t. We skipped six months, remember?

CRAIG: Oh. Right. Duh. I knew that!

ZAHRA: Raj, y’need some help?

RAJ: Yeah, I’m tryin’ to get the music working, but…

Zahra takes his phone in her hands and fiddles with it for a few moments. Before long, party music starts playing through the whole resort.

RAJ: Awesome! Thanks, my dudes!

CRAIG: Anytime!

ZAHRA: Craig, you didn’t do anything.

CRAIG: What? Naw, I… uh…

Any retort he may have had is cut short when he looks back at her in her formal dress. Craig can only stare open-mouthed.

ZAHRA: Huh. Guess there may be perks to dressin’ up like this after all…

Zahra playfully reaches out a finger and closes Craig’s mouth for him. Near one of the tables, Jake pours himself a glass of whiskey and raises it into the air.

JAKE: So! Who’s up for a toast?

ALYSSA: Personally, I can’t believe I’m still sober. Drink, please!

ESTELA: What are we having?

Jake grins and glances toward Ian.

JAKE: Why don’t we let Hero Boy pick?

IAN (surprised): I… what?!

ALYSSA (smirks): You heard him, “Hero Boy.”

Ian looks nervously at the assortment of drinks laid out on the table, feeling put on the spot.

IAN: I, uh…

Alyssa nudges him, glancing meaningfully toward the glass of whiskey in Jake’s hand.

IAN: Alright, how about this one?

He grabs a similar glass to Jake and pours himself some whiskey as well, then pours two more glasses for Alyssa and Estela. Estela takes a sniff of her glass and frowns.

ESTELA: What is this? It smells like sawdust.

JAKE: Trust me, there’s an art to whiskey. Now, the key to appreciating it is--

ESTELA: Getting it over with. Cheers.

She clinks her glass against Ian’s and throws back the whiskey. She winces.

ESTELA: It burns.

IAN: That bad, huh? Sorry, I--

ESTELA: Pour me another.

JAKE: Looks like Dragon Rage’s a fan, y’all.

Ian pours Estela another shot of whiskey as the four of them clink glasses and toast to the new year. In another area of the party, Varyyn and a few of his Vaanti warriors sip their own drinks as they chat with Diego, Lila, Raj, and Quinn.

VARYYN: It is interesting that your people count your years. You say this year is…?

DIEGO: Well, in a few more hours, it’s about to be 2018.

RAJ: Y’know what Varyyn here needs? One of those party sunglasses with the year on ‘em. Then he’ll never forget!

He, Quinn, Lila, and Diego burst into laughter. Diego claps Varyyn’s shoulder and pulls him into a hug.

DIEGO: Varyyn, I know you probably don’t get it right now, but we will take a picture next year while wearing those, okay?

VARYYN (warmly): I trust your judgement, my light.

Diego and Varyyn snuggle into one another as Quinn glances wistfully across the room. The camera follows her gaze to where Michelle stands chatting idly with a few of the others…

Some time later, the sun has set and most of the Catalysts are noticeably tipsier than they were previously. Several of the Vaanti warriors excitedly clink glasses of whiskey together with a triumphant cheer, then all down their drinks in one shot as Zahra looks on approvingly after downing her own glass.

ZAHRA: Doin’ great, guys! Now this is a New Year’s party!

Behind her, Aleister takes a seat at the grand piano as Michelle stands beside him. The others all crowd around. Aleister begins to play Auld Lang Syne.

MICHELLE (singing): Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never come to mind…

Aleister accompanies her, infusing each note with a delicate, classical touch. A few people sniff back tears, including Quinn and Grace.

MICHELLE (singing): For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne…

Alyssa looks pensively up toward the ceiling while Jake wraps an arm around her. Estela and Ian look deep into one another’s eyes. Raj sniffs back a tear. As Michelle begins the final part of the song, Quinn stands up and joins her:

MICHELLE AND QUINN (singing): We’ll take a cup of kindness yet, For auld lang syne!

Everyone bursts into applause. Aleister stands and takes a formal bow. Quinn and Michelle look at one another; Michelle is the first to blush and look away. Jake walks up and claps Aleister on the back.

JAKE: Nice job, Schroeder. Didn’t think you had it in you.

ALEISTER: Ah. You are most welcome. I did enjoy that quite--

RAJ: Whoa! Everyone, hold up! I almost forgot; we still gotta sing “Happy Birthday!”

Everyone looks back at Raj. He grins broadly and gestures to the crowd.

RAJ: Dunno if I mentioned it to everyone yet, but with the skip forward in time, we missed a bunch of birthdays! Including Aleister, and the Time Twins here! …Not to mention myself, of course!

He steps between Alyssa and Ian, pulling them both into a group hug.

RAJ: Anybody else we missed? Who’s had a birthday between… uh…

GRACE: June 6th and December 26th!

Aleister, Michelle, Craig, Quinn, Estela, Zahra, Raj himself, and the Czasa twins all raise their hands.

RAJ: Alright, cool! Aleister, if you don’t mind?

He gestures to the piano. Aleister nods and takes his seat once again at the keys.

DIEGO: Are we even allowed to sing it? I heard it was copyrighted--

CRAIG: Who’s gonna stop us, bro? Unless… (completely seriously) Dude, does Rourke own the rights to Happy Birthday? That’d be his most evil plan yet!

Zahra shakes her head and sighs. Aleister begins to play, and everyone else starts singing along, with the Vaanti catching on after the first few bars…

EVERYONE (singing): Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear…

A variety of names are all shouted out at once. Ian makes a point to sing Estela’s name rather than his own, and she likewise sings his name in return. They both smile warmly at one another.

RAJ (excitedly): Dudes, that was flawless! Best birthday song ever!

CRAIG: Ha! Take that, Rourke!

Everyone applauds and hugs one another after the song. Lila stands off to one side, glancing around at the others with a strange expression on her face. She glances around furtively for a moment, then quietly slips upstairs as the others continue celebrating.

SEAN (shouting): Hey! Don’t forget, it’s only a few minutes ‘til midnight!

Everyone startles at this pronouncement, glancing at various clocks… which all show completely different times. Sean shrugs.

SEAN: Well… as close as I can tell, anyway. Who knows on this island?

ALYSSA (laughing): Fair enough. Alright, let’s do this!

RAJ: Craig, you ready for our master surprise?

CRAIG: You know it!

Craig and Raj lead the others up onto the roof of the Elysian Lodge. A large crate full of red flares has been set against one edge of the roof; Craig rushes toward it excitedly with a lighter in his hand.

MICHELLE (worriedly): Uh… guys?

JAKE: Are those flares?

Craig stops and turns around, grinning broadly.

CRAIG: Yup! One of those commando dudes dropped ‘em! Me and Raj thought--

JAKE (fiercely): Don’t you dare light those--

RAJ: Aww, c’mon, don’t ruin our fun! I’d have thought you’d be all about this! What’s the harm in--

Estela crosses her arms and steps closer to Raj, glaring angrily.

ESTELA: So, right now, we’re hiding from a death squad of highly trained, well-armed mercenaries… and your plan is to shoot off a bunch of flares directly over our location.

She holds her death glare on the two of them. There is an awkward silence before Craig and Raj finally glance at each other, both clearly embarrassed.

CRAIG: Okay, when you put it like that…

RAJ: Sorry guys. No fireworks this year.

Raj looks down dejectedly and starts heading toward the stairs, when suddenly:

GRACE: Wait! Look!

Everyone follows her gaze off toward a distant mountain range, where the sky is lighting up in beautiful, otherworldly colors. Jake and Alyssa exchange a shocked glance: the colors are identical to those they had seen during their first day on La Huerta, back at the airstrip.

SEAN: What is that?!

VARYYN: Ah, the Lights of Vaanu. Among our people, they are believed to be a sign of good fortune to come.

JAKE: Dunno about y’all, but I’d say we could definitely use some good fortune right about now.

Raj shrugs.

RAJ: Well, it’s not fireworks, but it’s close enough for me! Fifteen seconds ‘til midnight!

Everyone starts looking around at one another, most of them pairing off: Alyssa with Jake, Aleister with Grace, Craig with Zahra, Diego with Varyyn, and two of the Vaanti with one another. Quinn looks as though she is about to approach Michelle, but shies away at the last minute. Ian nods toward Estela, who approaches him. Ian starts to turn away, when Alyssa not-so-subtly kicks him with her heel, pushing him back toward Estela.

IAN (annoyed): ‘Lyss!

He bumps into Estela, who awkwardly catches him in her arms.

ESTELA: Oh! …Hey.

IAN (awkwardly): …Hey.

Everyone else starts counting down from ten. Ian scratches the back of his neck and glances away from Estela. Alyssa shoots him an “are you kidding me?” glance, while Diego raises his eyebrows so far that they nearly vanish into his hairline. Ian sighs and nods in acknowledgement, then takes a deep breath.

EVERYONE: Five… four… three…

Estela steps close, the brilliant otherworldly lights reflecting in her deep brown eyes as she and Ian gaze at one another.

ESTELA: I…

EVERYONE: Two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The other couples all pull one another into New Year’s kisses as those who are single celebrate in their own ways. Ian starts to hesitate, then relents and pulls Estela into a deep kiss. When they part, Estela smiles up at him.

ESTELA (laughs): I almost thought I would have to do everything myself. Again.

IAN (laughs): Guess I just thought… I was worried you might not want--

He is interrupted by Estela pulling him back in for another kiss. Elsewhere, near the rooftop jacuzzi, Diego and Varyyn sit side-by-side, just breaking apart from their own midnight kiss.

VARYYN: This tradition of yours. Kissing at midnight.

DIEGO (awkwardly): Well, it’s not exactly my tradition--

VARYYN (warmly): I enjoy it quite a lot. Does it apply only to midnight?

DIEGO: Well, uh, if you’re asking if we can kiss again… I won’t say no.

VARYYN (ecstatic): Wonderful! Then, may I…?

Diego nods, and he and Varyyn kiss once more. In the background, Raj can be seen nodding at the two of them, and Craig groans and hands over some cash. Elsewhere, Jake and Alyssa stand hand-in-hand, gazing off at the multicolored lights.

JAKE: Looks familiar, huh?

ALYSSA: How could I forget? That was kind of a big day for me. Y’know.

JAKE: Why, ‘cuz you met me?

ALYSSA (teasingly): Don’t get too excited, Top Gun. A lot more happened than just that.

JAKE: Alright, answer this: were you really looking at those lights the whole time?

ALYSSA: I--

She laughs and rolls her eyes in tacit admission that her attention had indeed been elsewhere at the time. Jake wraps his arms around her and pulls her in close.

ALYSSA: What do you say we take this somewhere else?

JAKE: What were you thinkin’, Princess?

ALYSSA: Somewhere with a bed, if you know what I mean…?

JAKE: I am never gonna say no to that. Lead on.

Alyssa takes him by the hand and leads him back downstairs. As the night continues on, several other couples do the same. Diego and Varyyn are on their way toward the stairs when Diego stops for a moment near where Ian and Estela are sitting.

DIEGO: Go ahead, Varyyn, I’ll catch up. I’ve just gotta check on something first.

Varyyn nods and continues down the stairs. Diego approaches Ian and Estela, resting a hand on the former’s shoulder.

IAN: What’s up?

DIEGO: Can I talk to you for a sec?

IAN: Uh… sure?

Ian gives Estela an apologetic look, and she nods in response. Diego leads him over to a secluded area of the rooftop and lowers his voice.

DIEGO: You know the night’s not over yet, right?

IAN (genuinely confused): What?

DIEGO: Ian! Seriously! Surely you noticed the other couples heading off, right? Me included?

IAN: Yes… and?

Diego seems to be fighting the urge to facepalm.

DIEGO: You. Estela. Do I need to say anything more?

IAN (nervously): Okay, I get what you’re saying, but… where would we even go? It’s not like the lobby is exactly private, and--

DIEGO: This is a hotel, Ian! Are you kidding right now? All the bedrooms you could possibly want! Just go find one!

IAN (laughs): Alright, alright. I’ll ask her. You know, she might say ‘no’--

DIEGO: With how she’s been looking at you all this time? If she says ‘no,’ I’ll literally eat my shoe. Not even kidding. (sighs) Just ask her, would you?

IAN: Will do, Diego. And thanks for the push.

DIEGO (shrugs): What can I say? It’s kinda my job.

He nods at Ian, then turns to rejoin Varyyn and head back downstairs. Ian steels himself, then heads back toward Estela.

ESTELA: What was that all about?

IAN (awkwardly): Diego. He, uh, not-so-subtly hinted that… we should… y’know, ‘find a bedroom.’

ESTELA (coyly): Oh? And what did you think about that?

Ian scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

IAN: Well, uh… if you said ‘no,’ I’d definitely understand--

ESTELA (genuinely confused): …Why would I say ‘no?’

IAN: Dunno, guess I just thought--

She holds a finger up to his lips and smiles.

ESTELA: You think too much.

With a wink, she takes him by the hand and leads him downstairs…

_______________________

Note: If anyone was wondering, Ian was born at 11:59 PM December 31st, 1995, and Alyssa was born at 12:01 AM January 1st, 1996.

Next: The Fourteenth Vaalta (Coming soon!)

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0 @shaylan211 @griselda1121 @acanthisorbis @marmolady @choicesbabie @mauvecatfic

Endless Summer Tag List: @mysteli @edgydepressedchoicesthot @endlessly-searching-for-you @lovelywrites

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thepeoplewhoknowwhatpjois · 4 years ago

Text

Will: Why hello there, fellow Homo sapien.

Nico: *Looks up from book* Um, hi?

Will: You are my myocardium.

Nico: Alright… Will, stop with your jokes already. I need to finish this book for class.

Will: Ah! I see you’re using your oculus uterque to read this text.

Nico: My uterus? Will, I don’t think you’re ready to be a doctor.

Will: Nonsense! I know everything about the human anatomy.

Nico: That’s great but I need to finish this so I can do my project on Shakespeare soo…

Will: Before I go, may I squeeze your torso with my brachium?

Nico: Uhh, nooo..?

Will: Well, that’s too bad. But, can I place my labium superius oris and my labium inferius oris on your labium superius oris and your labium inferius oris?

Nico: What the heck does that even mean?? This is exactly why I’d never be a doctor!

Will: Calm your sensory nerves. I know your oculus uterque can’t resist my rectus abdominis muscle.

Nico: My what to your what to my what what?

Will: I don’t think your neurons, astrocytes, oligodendrocytes, and microglia are functioning very properly.

Nico: Will, I’m fine. I just got a check-up- FROM YOU- last week. I’m alright, I’m healthy.

Will: May we reproduce?

Nico: …

Will: “Phew, he doesn’t know what that means”

Nico: Could you get my hydroflask from the fridge, honey?

Will: Oh, sure, babe.

Will: *Hands Nico his hydroflask*

Nico: *Yeets hydroflask at Will’s head*

Nico: *Grins* I hope I inflicted some nice trauma to your cerebrum.

𝔽𝕚𝕝𝕖: 𝕄�� 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖 🌻

𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕.𝚎𝚡𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢

Will: NICO WHERE THE HELL AM I?!?!

Nico: Oh, you’re just in Hades.

Will: But the MCAT’s today.

Nico: 😑

Will: 😩🥺😭

Hey, guys! Do you want a finished version of the Solangelo campfire song? Comment down below if you do. Also, thank you all for the great support!! 😌💖

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aerisahale · 5 years ago

Text

Catharsis

Pairing: Clarke Griffin x Lexa kom Trikru Fandom: The 100 Length: 4,311 Summary: Raven invites Clarke to stay at her house over Christmas break after the university forces all the students out of on-campus housing. Clarke doesn't expect to see her angry ex-boyfriend or the incredibly gorgeous friend of Anya's. Read it on AO3, if you prefer!

The chair to Clarke Griffin’s desk in her dorm room is the best seating in the small space and Raven Reyes is quick to throw herself down into it, bag hitting the ground with a thud. The bright lettering stands out against the mild background. Raven’s eyes are drawn to the flyer immediately. “Getting kicked out?”

“Just for the holidays. I have that extra semester to make up before it’s a full eviction,” Clarke says as she flops down onto her bed, her equally heavy bag hitting the floor hard.

“You going home?”

“Probably. Mom’s in Pakistan working at a Doctor’s Without Borders clinic that helps women and other refugees in the area, so I’ll have the house to myself.”

Squinting at her friend, Raven cocks her head. “Christmas alone?”

“It’s fine. I can catch up on The Mandalorian.”

“What did you do last year?”

Clarke sits up, eyes on the floor. “Bellamy and I went to his parent’s house.”

The remorse is easy to see on Raven’s face. “Sorry, Clarke. I know it’s still a sore subject.”

“It isn’t,” Clarke says quickly.

Too quickly. Raven raises a brow.

“It shouldn’t be,” she amends. “I ghosted him. Not the other way around.”

“You did the best thing for yourself. That doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt.” Raven reaches out and places a comforting hand on her friend’s knee.

“It’s been almost a year. I really am mostly over it. This is just the first Christmas in years without him.”

“You’ve been through a lot together. Despite how it ended, you cared for each other for a long time and that means something. It will always mean something.” Raven smiles her warmest smile and squeezes the knee she’s resting her hand on before pulling it away to snap her fingers. “Listen. Come to my place. You can stay in the spare room. We’re even throwing a Christmas Party.”

Clarke looks hesitant so Raven throws in a drawn out please with her best pout until her friend gives in. “But nothing crazy.”

“Just a few friends, no worries.”

“Thanks again for having me over,” Clarke says as she takes sets out the trays of food Anya handed her. Lining them up neatly on the countertop of the kitchen pass-through window, Clarke takes an extra moment to observe them in the whole of the setting.

An enormous tree sparkles in multiple colors in the corner of the living room, near their fireplace. Garlands, lights, and holiday-themed décor are arranged perfectly throughout the public spaces, down to the Christmas linens and hand soap in the bathrooms. All the invited guests have a stocking hanging over the fireplace as a party favor and three gifts currently sat wrapped beneath the tree for the white-elephant gift exchange planned for later in the evening.

Clarke knows all the names but one. The first hanging from the mantle is Octavia’s. Octavia, Raven and Clarke had all gone to school together and Clarke used to date her brother. She and Octavia played soccer together for awhile until the latter had transferred schools mid-year in their sophomore year. They were fairly close until that happened.

The next is John Murphy’s. There were so many John’s in high school that everyone started calling him Murphy and it stuck. Murphy wasn’t always her favorite person, as her moral compass did not quite point in the same direction as his, but she did not foresee them having any issues. She had a particularly fond memory of a time where they both got called to the principal’s office—both for very different concerns—and they had shared a pair of headphones while waiting.

After his was Emori Emmerson’s. She only knew of her. They did not frequent any of the same social groups growing up, but she had fallen in with Raven and Murphy, the latter of which she was dating. As far as Raven told it, she was fun to be around and had the same sense of humor as Raven.

Nathan Miller and Eric Jackson followed Emori’s and Clarke hoped they were still together. They started dating in their junior year of high school and seemed like a picture-perfect couple. She still saw the occasional Facebook post of stunning settings such as where they held hands against the backdrop of a vivid sunset. If anyone was going to make it through as high-school sweethearts, it was them.

Remember when they said that about you and Bellamy? Her traitorous brain completes the thought before she can stop it and it makes her angry. She argues back, Remember all the times he blamed me for things that were out of my control? Like the time you refused sex because you were on your period?

Satisfaction makes her smile when nothing else decides to bubble to the surface. Focusing her attention on the final stocking, the name she doesn’t know intriguing the curious, non-traitorous part of her mind. Lexa. She finds herself whispering it under her breath, enjoying the feel of it rolling over her tongue.

A knock on the door pulls her attention and Raven claps her hands as she sets the napkins in her hand next to the plates that were beside Anya’s appetizers that Clarke had laid out. The front door opens to reveal Miller and Jackson first, gifts tucked under their arms as they each pull Raven into a hug with their free arms. Those three converse for a minute before Raven takes their jackets and hangs them in the breezeway closet while Jackson puts their gifts under the tree next to the other three.

Miller sees Clarke first and waves to her, Jackson’s attention going that way moments after. She moves to hug them both, greeting them. “How have you guys been? I’m so glad to see you!” Privately, she adds, Together.

The exchange pleasantries as Raven starts pressing buttons on their stereo system until Christmas pop spills out of the speakers distributed well throughout the house. Clarke can hear it coming from the kitchen even. The lights on the Christmas tree dance to the beat and Clarke knows Raven enjoyed setting that up.

Another knock finds John and Emori on the other side of the door and the couple enters. The conversations of seven people fill the house with chatter and laughter, swirling with the Christmas music and the emerging, mouthwatering scent of warm sugar wafting out of the kitchen. The dancing lights distract Clarke from the next guest that enters, letting the cheerful music sit in her soul like a hearth fire, warmth filling her bones. It’s not with regret that her eyes find the next guest, she just wishes she had been paying attention because the woman she finds steals her breath.

She only sucks in another when the stranger is coming towards her, guided towards the food by Raven. Clarke panics. She ducks into the kitchen and finds herself staring into the fridge for absolutely nothing. The amount of cheese sticks Raven has stuffed into the crisper drawer is concerning, however. At least its twin is actually packed with vegetables.

“Oh, Clarke!” she hears Raven say and she takes a moment to pre-compose her reply to the inevitable introduction. Armed with her most charming smile, she turns away from the cheese overload, closing the door behind her. “This is Lexa! She’s a friend of Anya’s.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Clarke!” She holds out her hand and tries not to wince at how overly-perky she sounds. Raven gives her a weird look and she knows she’s doing too much. She tries to dial it down by three notches as she asks, “How do you know Anya?”

There is an awkward moment where Lexa just stares at Clarke and she begins to wonder if she forgot to ask the question out loud until Raven says, “They grew up together, a lot like we did.”

The doorbell rings and Raven excuses herself, leaving Clarke and Lexa alone in the kitchen, alone in the uncomfortable silence as Clarke mulls over the fact that the other woman has yet to say anything to her. She wonders if the silence was better when the woman trips over her speedy question, “You’re the pre-med student that Raven goes to school with?”

“Ah, yeah, yes. I graduate in April. I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage?”

“Sorry,” color warms her pale cheeks as Lexa clears her throat and says in a much more paced tone, “Anya mentioned you might be here. What is your major?”

“Double-majoring, actually. I have one more semester to get my Bio and Chem degrees. Then off to med school.”

“You’ve already taken the MCATs?” the woman asks and Clarke is caught off guard.

“Yeah! Took them in my junior year to save time. I start at Harvard Med right after graduation.”

Surprise widens the woman’s green eyes and Clarke’s heart races. “I will be attending Harvard in January.”

“Small world,” Clarke jokes in an attempt to soothe her nerves. “What are you studying?”

Lexa smiles and the house around Clarke is spinning giddy circles to match the butterflies in her chest. “I also took the LSAT in my junior year. I just finished a double in Poli-Sci and History.”

“A lawyer!”

“Indeed. The real goal is to get into Congress, down the road. I hope for more, but that is my realistic goal.”

“That’s amazing! I have this feeling that you would be impressive at it.” Lexa smiles wide. “Thank you, Clarke.”

The way Lexa’s voice pops on the K of her name has Clarke wondering what she would sounds like if Clarke had her quivering under her mouth and the way Lexa is looking right through her, as if she can read her thoughts, has heat creeping up her neck and across her face. To distract herself, she turns towards the living room, surveying through the pass-through window.

Her eyes lock with familiar ones, the last ones she ever wanted to see again. His eyes were already on her and she feels trapped all over again. She spins around and suddenly finds herself breathing heavily. Lexa lays a hand on her back, rubbing a soothing circle as Clarke continues to chase her breath.

She turns back towards the party to see Raven looking at her with concern, mouthing, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’ and Bellamy just behind her, eyes locked on the spot on her arm that Lexa’s hand gently remains. Only when Lexa’s arm drops back to her side does Bellamy say coldly, at odds with the words themselves, “Nice to see you again, Clarke.”

“Wish I could say the same!” Clarke blurts before pushing past him and beating a hasty retreat to the far corner of the living room.

Octavia finds her shortly and fills her in on what she has been doing, over the years. She keeps glancing at the kitchen door but she doesn’t think Bellamy has left there yet. Chuckling weakly at a joke that Octavia made, she jumps when Bellamy is suddenly at Octavia’s elbow, eyebrows drawn in anger. He speaks quietly enough that Octavia and Clarke are the only ones to hear him. “Why are you joking around with her?”

“We were friends before I switched schools, Bells.”

His voice rises slightly louder, people close to them glancing towards the group. “Friends? You don’t even know what you’re saying, Octavia.”

“Bellamy.” Clarke says his name in warning at the same time as Octavia tells him to stop making a scene.

“No, I think it’s time you—it’s time everyone knew the real Clarke Griffin,” Bellamy raises his voice, the conversation in the house falling silent as everyone focused in on them in the corner. The cheerful Christmas music and rhythmically twinkling lights at odds with the suddenly tense air. “You changed schools because of Clarke.”

“What?” Octavia asks. “What are you talking about? What is he talking about, Clarke?”

Shame fills every inch of Clarke as she stares at the ground, all eyes on her. Torn between running and praying a miraculous sinkhole swallowed her and only her, Clarke stays rooted to the spot. She tries to look at Octavia but can’t meet her confused gaze.

“Clarke planted the drugs in your locker that got you expelled from Arkadia High.”

The chill in Octavia’s voice actually makes Clarke shiver and she finally gathers the courage to meet her former friend’s furious eyes, “Explain, Clarke.”

“You…You all know how…competitive and ambitious I was in high school. I…put the drugs in your backpack the day before and then told the school officer about them. I thought it would just get you kicked off the team! We were both up for Captain and—at the time I thought it was what I had to do to win. I was young and dumb. I swear I had no idea you would be expelled. Please, Octavia, I’m so sorry.”

Octavia doesn’t say another word, storming out of the front door. Clarke is quick to follow, just behind her as the dark-haired woman keeps her steady march towards, well, Clarke isn’t really sure. Suddenly, she stops and whips around, finger pointed right at Clarke, jamming it into her collar bone to enunciate her words.

“You never told me? You never owned up to it? Even after you saw the consequences of those actions?”

“Octavia, I’m so sorry. Nothing I can say can ever make up for that.”

“I had to go to court!” Stab. “I had to go to therapy!” Stab. “No one believed they weren’t mine.” Stab. “Except Bellamy, and I guess I know why now.”

“No, no!” Clarke is quick to say, pleading with her eyes. “Octavia he always believed you. I only told him later when I was beyond drunk and feeling extremely guilty. I swear, he was always on your side.”

“And the worst fucking part, Clarke? Is that you lied! For all these years.”

“Please, Octavia. I know I can never make it up to you now, but you have to know, if I could go back and do it over, I would never have done it. I hated the person I was and I’ve learned from those choices. I choose every day to be a better person. I’m becoming a doctor to save lives, not ruin them. Maybe that’s why, if I’m being honest.”

The anger drains out of Octavia and Clarke holds her breath. “I was angry for a long time. I never knew how they got there. I did a lot of unsafe, unhealthy things that I regret while coping with that anger.”

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke breathes out.

“Look, I’m trying to say: I get it. We all have done things we’re ashamed of. All we can do is move forward and be a better person than we were yesterday. I definitely can’t forgive you yet, but let’s take it a day at a time and not let this ruin Christmas any more than it has.”

Clarke admires the woman Octavia has become, wonders what she went through to become this level-headed woman before her. In high school, Octavia would hold the longest grudges. Quick to anger and quick to give it a home adjacent to her heart where she would house it forever. It is part of the reason Clarke could never come clean about what happened.

Octavia heads back in, but Clarke stays in the cold a moment longer, taking a few deep breaths to calm her emotions before following back into the warmth. The Christmas music filled the quiet house, as everyone murmured quietly to one another. Bellamy stood in the back and it looked like he was quietly arguing with Octavia.

It took the party a while to lose the tense atmosphere, but it eventually did. Clarke kept near Raven, worried what the others must think of her, learning one of her deepest regrets. Not too long after the conversation picked back up, Raven pulled out a game of Pictionary and divided the group into teams. One team had Raven, Anya, Clarke, Bellamy, and Lexa and the other had Octavia, Miller, Jackson, Murphy, and Emori.

Clarke is chosen to draw first, and after Emori earned her team 4 spaces on the board, the turn passed to her. The first things she had to draw was stained glass. A church window came to mind and she quickly sketched Saint Mary as the centerpiece to a Curved window with lines to represent the where the glass was different colored. She thought this was going to be hard for any of them to guess but Lexa guessed correctly at the same time as Bellamy shouted, “Mary, the mother of Jesus!”

“Yes, but not exactly correct. Lexa got it, though. Roll for us?” Clarke tried to say it as gently as possible.

It turned into a competition between the two, or at least, as far as Bellamy was concerned. Every time it was Clarke’s turn to draw he would try to shout over Lexa, usually incorrectly. He would glare every time Lexa was right and he was wrong. Eventually, the game ended and Clarke’s team won, but barely. Despite the problematic moments, Clarke really relished how well Lexa got her.

She offers to help clean up as Lexa starts doing it. They gathered up the pieces and fit it all neatly back into the box. Clarke smiles at her. “Let me show you where it goes.”

Clarke leads her down the hallway to a closet and opens the door for her. She reaches in and turns the light on towards the side and Lexa slides past her to add the box to the stack of board games already in there. As Lexa turns to leave, she caught Clarke looking up and swallowing. She follows her gaze. Mistletoe.

Clarke glances back down in time to watch Lexa’s eyes dart up and she suddenly realizes how close the two are. She chuckles and attempts a joke, “Who puts mistletoe over a closet door? I feel like this is some sort of ‘coming out of the closet’ joke.”

“We don’t have to—” Lexa starts.

“But it is tradition—” Clarke stumbles.

“It is—" Lexa gets out before she’s crashing her lips into Clarke’s, missing by slightly too much before she pulls back and finds her center, placing a proper kiss on the shorter woman. Clarke moans into it, surprising herself, as she parts her lips for Lexa’s tongue that wastes no time in seeking askance.

It’s over as soon as it starts, as the sound of a toilet flushing just further down the hall has them pulling apart. Bellamy emerges and there’s no making excuses for what they’d just been doing. Anger further clouds Bellamy’s face as he says, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He storms past them and down the hall, turning back to shout. “Good riddance, you fucking slut.”

Octavia’s reply in the second sudden silence of the party at Bellamy’s hands issues down the hall, “You did not just slut-shame someone.”

“Yeah, I fucking did. Clarke is down her making out with Lexa after she fucking ghosted me.”

Clarke and Lexa head back out to the scene being made about them in the living room. All eyes are once again on Clarke as she confronts her ex-boyfriend. “You act like this, Bellamy! You act like this and worse, all the time. This is why I left you!”

“We spent years together and now you’re fucking some random chick!”

“First of all, it’s been almost a year since we broke up. Second of all, we were not fucking, clearly.”

“Third, she can do whatever she wants!” Octavia intercedes. “We don’t slut-shame in this house.”

“Once again, O, you have no idea what you’re talking about. The things Clarke and I have been through together mean something.”

“Look-“ Clarke starts to say, but Bellamy is hearing none of it, already set on his path.

“She was a secret fucking teen mom and now she’s hooking up with a stranger in her friend’s fucking closet. This is ridiculous. I’m glad I broke up with her. I clearly don’t know her at all.”

“What the fuck, Bellamy,” Clarke growls. “It took two to be that fucking teen mom!”

“Teen mom, for a minute, anyway. I’m fucking out. Fuck this shit.” He slams the door behind him and Clarke sways. Lexa is at her elbow and quickly has an arm around her waist.

“Let’s go sit down, okay?”

She lets the other woman guide her to the couch, taking a seat beside her. The soothing hand from earlier is back, rubbing circles into her back, and this time, Clarke leans into it. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, building a dam around the tsunami of emotions coursing through her, knowing her friends want an explanation.

Lexa is a silent but reassuring presence at her side. Raven looks heartbroken. Octavia is furious. The others wear looks of mild concern to curiosity. Raven is the first to break the silence, “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I—I want to. It’s time. It’s been years. I got pregnant in senior year. Bellamy’s, of course. It’s why I worked so hard to graduate early and why I took classes online for the first three semesters. I gave birth to a beautiful, amazing, healthy baby girl, but I wasn’t ready to be a mom. So, she was adopted by this lovely couple with enough money and time to give her an amazing life that I wasn’t sure I could guarantee her.”

She takes a few deep breaths, bolstered by the hand on her back, by the awe on her friend’s faces, by the love. “I was really depressed for months afterwards. Bellamy always supported my choice, he just didn’t get it, you know? I joined a Post-Partum Depression support group and ended up becoming friends with this other woman who also gave up her child and was experiencing a lot of the same feelings I was. Eventually, I worked through it.”

“I was different afterwards, and so was Bellamy. He was irritable, blamed me for a lot of things that weren’t my fault. I think deep down, even beyond admitting it to himself, that he blamed me for us not having our child with us. I think he felt pressured to support whatever decision I made and never voiced any of his feelings on it and it led to the rift that formed between us, until, one day, I just left.”

All of the shame and guilt that Clarke has carried with her for years felt lighter. Something else had changed tonight, and Bellamy was still an asshole, but it was all cathartic in some way. She smiles over at Lexa. “Nothing like meeting a cute girl and finding out all her deepest, darkest secrets, am I right?”

Lexa laughs and everyone else joins in. The atmosphere lightens and people begin a few side conversations. Raven throws herself into Clarke’s lap and pulls her into a tight embrace. “I love you, Clarke. I’m so sorry that this all happened tonight, but I hope it turns into something that helps you heal. I’m always here for you.”

“I love you, too, Raven. We should probably talk more about it, but later.”

“Oh, and, by the way, there might be some mistletoe hiding up there above the couch!” Raven points as she darts off Clarke’s lap, leaving her next to just Lexa, who she pulls into another kiss, drawing hollers from the crowd. “You owe me ten bucks,” she hears from John Murphy and she breaks the kiss in laughter.

“I know it’s been a pretty intense night, but I really am pretty attracted to you and I heard I might be living in the same city as you in a few months.”

“I feel the same way, Clarke. Following the tradition of candor this evening, Anya hoped we might hit it off tonight. She told me all about you and I was so stunned by how beautiful you are, I forgot how to talk when she introduced me.”

“Let’s exchange numbers for now and we can see how things play out once I move out there?”

Lexa smiles and kisses Clarke again. “I’ll miss these lips, but that sounds good.”

-- One Year Later --

“We’re going to Raven and Anya’s for Christmas, right?” Clarke asks.

“That’s the plan. Is Bellamy going to be there?”

“He is,” Clarke begins, stopping Lexa’s protests with, “but he’s bringing his girlfriend, and he seems to really be working on himself. However, in honor of last year, I proposed a new game to Raven. Confessions: The Game of Secrets and Lies. With a few custom added cards to carry on the tradition of last year, but it’s his turn.”

“Clarke.” Lexa frowns.

“All in good nature! I promise. Not like he was. Besides, it was pretty smooth sailing for us after all that!”

“Just because it worked out for us, that doesn’t make it a good model to cementing the foundation of a new relationship.”

“Okay, but it made mine and Octavia’s relationship even stronger!” Clarke adds with a sweet smile at her girlfriend. “Fine! Without the custom cards. Maybe. I reserve the right to be petty.”

“I am really glad I met you that night.”

“Maybe there will be more mistletoe!”

“Any excuse to kiss me?”

“As if I need an excuse! No, this party I’m going for scandalous!” Clarke directs a devilish smirk towards Lexa. “Gotta keep ‘em guessing.”

Lexa laughs. “Alright, scandalous, it is. Let’s practice right now.”

Clarke groans as Lexa bites right into the spot she knows drives her crazy. Their clothes hit the floor as they make their way towards their bedroom, thoughts of Christmas parties long gone.

#Clexmas20 #Day 6 Rockin Around The Christmas Tree #Clexa #Clarke Griffin #Lexa kom Trikru #Lexa x Clarke #The 100

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deathonyourtongue · 4 years ago

Text

Calling on the Rain

Summary: What’s a first date without an interlude from Mother Nature? Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (part of the Yvonne/Ray/Arlo series which I’ve yet to name. 🤦🏽‍♀️) Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: All the fluff! A/N: This was a request from the lovely @livinglifeformemyselfandi ! Enjoy!!

Completing a PhD in clinical psychiatry at Cornell tended to leave one without time for any sort of social life. Lately however, Yvonne had found herself trying to carve out little bits of it here and there. All because of a guy.

Being 26 with an MCAT score in the 500’s, Yvonne had breezed through her undergraduate program, but with her time at med school coming to a close, the pressure was on. She could start applying for her residency positions next year, and while she was beyond excited, the major shift didn’t come without a healthy dose of fear. She needed some time to simply…be, and since she wasn’t a fan of being alone, finally accepting a date from the guy in her neuro class seemed like the best idea.

Arlo was from London, and though he’d explained it more than once, Yvonne still couldn’t fathom why he’d chosen to do his med program in the States. It didn’t matter however; the moment he’d opened his mouth, she was a goner.

The plans for the day were simple. A walk around town, taking in the sites, lunch at a little cafe that had an unbelievable dessert selection, and finally, a late show of a movie they’d both wanted to see.

Putting on a pair of Navy shorts, a cream tank top, and a matching pair of strappy sandals, she checked her hair and makeup one last time before heading out to meet Arlo in the common room. To say she was nervous was an understatement, but Yvonne knew that if she chickened out or cancelled on him again, she’d lose her shot with him and that was the last thing she wanted.

Arlo’s glance up at her put an ear-to-ear smile on Yvonne’s face, flustering her to the point where she had to keep her hand on the railing despite usually being okay without it.

“You look lovely,” he said as he extended his arm to her, Yvonne taking a moment to take him in before linking her arm through his. She was glad she wasn’t over or underdressed, and couldn’t help but smile a little brighter when she realized they matched.

“And you look very handsome,” Yvonne replied, her nerves easing a bit as they got moving.

“How’re you doing on your project?”

“Nope. Don’t wanna talk about it. Any topic other than school,” Yvonne grinned before playfully letting her head fall to his shoulder as though she were going to faint. Arlo laughed warmly, squeezing her hand as he thought about other topics. Never once did he ask her to move her head, and never once did Yvonne entertain the notion. After a few moments, his arm came around her, tucking her in close.

“Any topic other than school. Fair. What’s a movie that you can watch over and over again?”

“The second Mighty Ducks movie,” Yvonne answered sheepishly, pushing her face into Arlo’s chest as her cheeks caught fire.

“Didn’t take you for the sports type. I’ll keep that in mind come winter,” Arlo grinned, giving her a playful wink. It was his words that caught Yvonne’s heart in her chest however, the easy way he promised that they’d still be a thing at least until next winter. It intrigued her and Yvonne couldn’t help the excitement she felt at the prospect of actually having someone to be with.

“What about you?”

“Mine? I’m gonna have to go with...The Professional. Still holds up.”

Arlo held the door for Yvonne as they veered into one of the first shops along their walk, a place that sold a variety of different knick-knacks, from old skeleton keys to little frog statues, and even street signs. Though the aisles were narrow, they manage to stay side by side, Yvonne relaxing more and more into the warmth of his chest as they browsed.

“What’s one dish you’d never stop eating if there was an endless amount of it in front of you?” He asked as they checked out postcards, the majority related to their chosen alma mater.

“Ooh, good question! Fettuccine. Always. So yummy,” Yvonne answered, hoping her stomach wouldn’t growl at the thought of her favorite meal, especially since she’d skipped breakfast on account of nerves.

“Yeah, Fettuccine’s great. Personally, I’d be really sad if the world didn’t have pizza,” Arlo chuckled, letting her lead the way to the back of the store, where they had all sorts of games and toys, a few that harkened back to childhood.

Yvonne couldn’t help but reach for the magic 8 ball as soon as she saw it, her grin turning excited as she shook it.

“Will we enjoy the movie?” She asked, one eyebrow raised as she gazed up at Arlo, giggling when his expression mirrored hers. When the liquid settled, the window read a clear answer.

Outlook good.

“I hope so. Everyone can’t stop talking about it,” Arlo laughed, shaking his head before taking the 8 ball from Yvonne and giving it a shake of his own.

“Will my devastatingly smart and beautiful date find me up to snuff before the night is out?” He asked, making sure to keep his voice soft in the quiet store. Yvonne couldn’t help but cover her mouth to muffle her laughter when he showed her the answer.

My sources say no.

Arlo pouted, giving her his best puppy dog eyes, hunched shoulders and all.

“That’s not true!” Yvonne shook her head, giggling as she reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, unable to help the little flutter in her heart when his already ruddy cheeks went a shade pinker. The blush was made even better by his smile, the genuine happiness bringing out a more youthful side to him.

Taking the eight ball back, Yvonne shook it vigorously while she thought of a question to ask. She wanted it to be something outlandish, a prediction that couldn’t be true in a million years. Something that would cement this as the best date she’d ever been on, were it to come true.

“Will it rain on our date? Maybe right at the very end so I don’t have to walk around with frizzy hair all day?” Once more her eyebrow went up, part of her hoping it happened, and part hoping it didn’t, if only because she’d just gotten her hair done two days before and she’d opted for a silk press. As gorgeous as it was, it wasn’t rainproof in the slightest, and Yvonne didn’t want it to get ruined.

Better not tell you now.

Shrugging, she smiled sweetly at Arlo before wiggling her eyebrows, eyes wide. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“That was…”

“Delicious,” Arlo agreed, taking Yvonne’s hand as they made their way out of the restaurant, having a little time--and a small walk--to the theater.

They’d both chosen the Fettucine--hers with chicken and his with steak--and a glass of wine, and though the cafe was somewhat empty given the time of day, it might as well have been last call, because Yvonne felt like there was no one else in there with her except Arlo and she couldn’t have been happier.

He’d paid without even asking, so as they approached a candy store, Yvonne all but pushed him inside, giggling like a mischievous kid as she did so. “My treat. Can’t go to the movies without a few essentials.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Arlo let her lead him through the aisles, picking out things here and there, wondering how much of it would be used as study fuel later on when they headed back to the reality that was med school.

“So we’ve got Reese’s Pieces, gummy bears, fuzzy peaches, Milk Duds, and of course, Junior Mints.” Yvonne explained her haul as they left the store, carefully putting each candy in her purse and shuffling things around so that nothing bulged inconspicuously.

“I’ll never understand why theaters get upset when people bring their own candy. It’s not as though we haven’t already paid for the tickets,” Arlo mused, gently shifting Yvonne out of the way of a cyclist who was careening down the sidewalk. Startled to be moved so suddenly, Yvonne was about to say something to Arlo when the gust of wind caused by the passing cyclist nearly took her off her feet.

“Thank you,” she whispered, one eye half shut as she tried to blink the dust out of it. Yvonne’s breath caught in her throat when she felt Arlo’s warm hands cup her face. “Open as much as you can, and I’ll try and blow it out,” he explained, keeping her face steady and waiting until he saw her brown eyes fully opened before letting a quick burst of air escape his lips.

“Better?” Arlo asked, ducking his head to meet Yvonne’s gaze.

“Yes, much better, actually. Thank you. Again,” she smirked, leaning up to give him another kiss on the cheek, this time unable to help but smooth her hand over Arlo’s blushing cheek.

Yvonne would later chalk it up to misleading marketing and the exhaustion of med school, but after sitting through the first half of the movie--and half a bag of gummy bears which she shared with Arlo--she found her eyes growing heavy. Before she realized it, she was out like a light. Far from being put off, Arlo carefully lifted the armrest that separated them and tugged her in close, letting her head rest on his chest as his arm cradled her gently. As the credits rolled, he rubbed her back gently to wake her.

“Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing!” Yvonne groaned as she straightened herself out, realizing what she’d done. Arlo couldn’t help his big grin, finding her utterly endearing in her half-awake state.

“You didn’t miss much, believe me. I’ve half a mind to petition the movie studio for my money back, it was so boring.”

“Okay, so it wasn’t just me. Good. That makes me feel a little better,” she shook her head, remembering what little she’d seen of the movie and how she kept waiting for the action to begin.

“Ah, well, two out of three isn’t bad. Overall I think we did alright, no? As far as first dates go?” The anxiety and hope in his facial expression made Yvonne smile, knowing full well he was wishing on every last star in the sky that she would feel the same.

“I think we did more than alright. I think there’s second and third date potential there, mister.”

This time, Arlo blushed hard enough that he had to look away, though there was no missing the big, bright grin and the excitement in his eyes. Yvonne held him a little closer as they walked through the theater’s lobby, her own smile unwavering until she took a look outside.

“Oh my!” Arlo exclaimed, his expression a mix between true shock and more than a little amusement.

“Guess the 8 ball was right,” Yvonne answered, cringing momentarily before dissolving into giggles. “I just had to ask about rain, huh?”

“That just means you’re magic, love. True magic,” Arlo’s laughter sobered as he spoke, his blue eyes softening as he gazed down at Yvonne, looking for all the world like a man head-over-heels in love.

Pausing to think for a moment, Yvonne weighed their options; a taxi back to student housing (which would cost a fortune) or ruining her hair (which would also cost a pretty penny) on the first date with the first guy she’d truly been interested in since her childhood crush on her brother’s friend. Taking a deep breath, she took Arlo’s hand and tugged him through the door, knowing they were both about to get soaked to the bone.

“Love, what are you doing!?” Arlo called over the pouring rain, squinting against the drops and trying his best to pull Yvonne back into the building.

“Come on! I’ve always wanted to dance under the rain!” Yvonne answered, beaming at Arlo despite the drops that battered down on them.

Though he couldn’t hear it at first, when Arlo finally reached Yvonne, the soft sounds of music coming from a nearby restaurant were clear. Pulling her flush to his chest, Arlo took her hand in his and slipped the other around her waist.

Time ground to a halt as they slow danced, forgetting the rain, the cars going by, or even the people watching from inside the stores. There was only the rain, the stars, and the other person.

Their eyes met as the rain began to slow from a downpour to a sprinkle, and without a moment’s hesitation, Yvonne reached up on her tip toes and pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to Arlo’s lips, capping off the best date she’d ever had, ever.

Two things were certain to Yvonne as she and Arlo slowly parted from their kiss; she’d have to make more time to simply be, with Arlo, and she’d have to go back for that Magic 8 Ball soon.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #deathonyourtongueoriginals

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