#i wrote this during spanish tutoring maybe you can tell

[tormentis-omnia]

hey guys! idk if anyone's interested, but I wrote a short kunizai angst ficlet a while back and finally got around to publishing it. you can check it out on ao3 or wattpad :) basically kunikida died on a mission and dazai's going through it

[everybodyscupoftea]

chemistry

isaac lahey x reader

isaac needs help in chemistry and you need help in english - the beginning

this is for isaac anon and the few people that wanted this. i’m just dabbling here, so let me know if you guys want more! (i did quite a bit of Research for this and i have ideas)

also let me know, i left it vague, but if i expand i’m probably going to add in scott, stiles, allison, and lydia. would you guys like to keep it supernatural or do full au where they’re just normal college students?

You noticed the boy in your Intro to Academic Writing course, but you didn’t really focus on him, mostly due to freshman year stress, until he sat down next to you in General Chemistry. Stepping into the classroom you’d felt at ease, science was your jam, but the really cute boy put you back on edge. You felt hyperaware of him, his scent, kind of cinnamon-y, fall-esque.

He tapped his fingers on his notebook, and you couldn’t help but notice he wrote in green pen. You glanced every so often to see him doodling in the corner of the page instead of taking notes on the intro lesson on the scientific method that your professor was doing.

The boy rested his chin on his hand and his fingers went from tapping on the notebook to his jaw and you shook your head, trying to focus back on the professor who was talking about your lab groups.

“The people at your table are in your group. Lab is on Wednesday nights, I won’t be the instructor, you’ll have a TA, but you can email me or come to my office hours if you have any questions about what’s going on. I’ll see you all on Thursday.”

You started to pack your stuff and the boy turned to you with a crooked grin, “I’m Isaac.”

Shaking his hand, you introduced yourself and he stood, waiting for you to finish packing your stuff. You zipped your booksack, “You’re in my English class, right?” you asked, faking as if you didn’t notice him as soon as you stepped into the door.

He nodded, “Yeah, with Dr. Terranova.”

“He seems,” you trailed off, looking for the right word, “interesting.”

Isaac grinned, “You mean overwhelmingly picky for an English 101 professor?”

“That’s a great way to put it,” you told him, laughing.

The two of you walked out the door and down the hall together. Isaac shifted his booksack on his shoulders a little and asked, “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Calculus,” you told him and he grimaced.

“Fuck that.”

“You?”

He nodded, “Spanish.”

Unfortunately for you, the buildings were on opposite ends of campus, so you paused just outside the door to the chemistry building. Isaac paused too and smiled, “See you tomorrow night?”

“See you tomorrow, Isaac.”

-

Your lab group was made up of two boys and two girls. Isaac, Andrew, Abigail, and you. Out of the group, you were the only STEM major, and the only one who actually liked chemistry. Isaac patted your shoulder, “Well, that officially makes you team captain then.”

“Thank god,” Abigail added, “I’m an advertising major, my brain noped out of the sciences years ago.”

The other guy, Andrew, said, “I took Chem 2 in high school and didn’t pass the AP exam, chemistry and I have beef.”

You snorted and said, “Cool, well, I’ll try and lead us to the promised land.” They seemed to like that.

-

Your group was really smart, everyone was picking up the labs really easily and you were thrilled, especially when the teacher stood in front of the class after the first test review. She clapped her hands once, “Okay, the lab group with the highest combined test average gets five bonus points added to their test scores. This is me trying to get you guys familiar with study groups, especially if you’re going to be in STEM, which I know some of you are. Study groups got me through school.”

Unfortunately, everyone in your lab group already had stuff going on, so you couldn’t study with them. Fortunately, the test was on intro stuff like the scientific method, conversions, and balancing equations, and your group hadn’t had any issues in any of the lab work, so you weren’t worried.

But when you got the test back, you realized, maybe you should’ve been. Isaac got his handed back first and actually laughed when he looked at the grade. Before you could ask, the professor set yours down on the desk and you started flipping through it, frowning at the little points you’d had taken off for careless mistakes.

“Fuck,” you muttered, “should’ve gotten at least a 97.”

“Wow, can’t believe you fucked it up for the whole group,” Isaac sarcastically responded, nudging you with his elbow, before sliding his test on top of yours. He nudged you again, “As you can see, I’m carrying the team,” and he motioned toward the D written in bright red at the top of his paper.

Your mouth dropped open and you picked the test up, flipping through to see what he’d missed. Eyebrows furrowed, you looked over at him, “You should tell her you accidentally skipped the back page.”

“Oh, it wasn’t an accident, I just didn’t know how to do it.”

“Well,” you stuttered, “it was the same stuff we did in the last lab activity.”

Isaac nodded, “Yes it is, and I didn’t understand it then either.”

“I thought,” you paused, mind racing, “I thought we all did?”

He grinned at you, “Some of us aren’t science brains, my friend.”

“What are you?” you asked as the class started to pack up.

With a soft smile, he threw his booksack over his shoulder, “I’m a literature major.”

-

You didn’t mean to think about it as much as you did, but when 2 a.m. rolled around and you were at your most impulsive you couldn’t stop yourself from sending out a text.

Hey, do you maybe want to meet up and study sometime?

After hitting send you could’ve slammed your head into a wall. You locked your phone and put your head in your hands, “God damnit.” And then your phone dinged.

I’d love that, love to have a STEM genius in my corner.

Your cheeks heated as you read it and your mind raced with your heart. It was beating harder and part of you couldn’t even believe he’d said yes. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you responded.

Idk about genius but I’m not half bad at chem

He responded, even faster than the first time and you grinned, unable to stop it from overtaking your face.

I may not know much about the scientific method or whatever, but all evidence suggests otherwise, genius

-

The next test wasn’t for a few weeks, but Isaac wanted to start studying earlier. He suggested meeting at a coffee shop called The Beanery. Coffee shops weren’t really your jam, you liked the silence of the fourth floor of the library. Go early, get a table, put in head phones, and go to work. But, you were open to try Isaac’s suggestion.

It was brightly lit when you walked in, and he was already there, at a table in the corner, laptop out. Books were spread across the tabletop, and he already had two empty mugs on the table in front of him, leg bouncing as he aimlessly chewed on a pen.

Shaking yourself out of staring, you walked to the counter to order. Isaac smiled up at you when you made it to the table with your coffee.

“Welcome,” he told you, moving some of his books out of the way. Sitting up straighter, Isaac glanced around, “What do you think about this place?”

“It’s nice, definitely a change of pace from my norm.”

“Where’s that then?”

“Library, fourth floor.”

“Quiet up there, huh?”

“Yeah, but I listen to some music for background.”

“I like coffee shops,” Isaac said, closing his laptop, “the vibes are nice and my clothes always smell like coffee afterward which is a fun bonus.”

At his comment, you looked down at his clothes. You were a little surprised to see that he was dressed just like during the week: jeans, a nicer t-shirt, and a cardigan. You’d wondered, deep down, if he dressed nicer for class, but it didn’t seem the case. Isaac cleared his throat and your eyes snapped to his face, ears burning when you saw him staring at you in amusement.

Coughing quietly, you reached for your booksack, “So, chemistry. Do you understand what we’ve been going over?”

“I know they’re called Bohr models but I don’t know anything else about them.”

“Right, so,” you paused a minute, trying to figure out where to start, “it’s a way to draw an atom and it’s kind of like a planet.”

Isaac leaned forward through your explanation, resting most of his weight on his elbows, and tapped the green pen against his lower lip. Every so often he’d ask a question, shift a little and write something down in his notebook by whatever he’d scribbled in class. His questions were shockingly insightful, and you eagerly answered them all.

By the time you’d gotten through the basics of thermodynamics, he’d added a whole page of notes, and you could tell he was starting to lose interest. Shutting your notebook, you told him, earnestly, “I hope this helped a little.”

“I promise,” he looked you straight in the eye, “it makes sense. This all looked like a foreign language before we met up.”

“Good,” you nodded, “this is my jam.”

“Keep on spreading it,” he joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well,” you admitted, “you may not be good at chem but you’d kick my ass into next week in English.”

“How’s your paper going?” Isaac asked, leaning back and crossing his arms, looking genuinely interested.

“It’s…going.”

He snorted, “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“Yeah neither does my thesis.”

“Do you have your laptop?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me have a look,” he suggested.

Pulling up the word doc, you passed your laptop over, staring down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs, a little nervously, as he read through your rough draft.

“What did Dr. Terranova have to say in your conference?” he asked, pushing your laptop away.

You sighed, “He was less than complimentary.”

Isaac laughed, “It’s not that bad, but it could use some polishing. I can help of course.”

Relief washed over you and you felt a weight off your shoulders, “That would be incredible actually.”

“There, now we’re even. You tutor me in chemistry and I’ll make sure you pass English, starting with this rough, and emphasis on rough, draft.”

Reaching across the table, you shoved at his hand, “Be gentle.”

“I’m going to get another chai,” he said, standing to stretch a bit, “and you pick out what sentence exactly you think is your thesis. We’ll start there.”

Biting your lip to conceal a grin, you nodded, waking your laptop back up.

[loudsuitlover]

could you write a Christmas piece for Harry and indie and their family please? I’m not sure if you are taking requests, I know you said you’ve been busy but if you get time and this inspires you I would love to read!

A/N: Thank you for the request! It did inspire me quite a lot! I hope you like it x

“Merry Christmas, doctor Styles.” The new Anaesthesiology inter smiled at him.

“Merry Christmas, Steve.”

But oh, the holidays. He had never been a fan of them. Granted, that- like every other thing in his life- had changed since he spent them with Blue and just by thinking about it he smiled. Blue loved Christmas. She loved most holidays, but if she had to choose one then that would be Christmas.

He remembered their first Christmas together. He remembered too that the year prior he had already been in love with her but they had been angry at each other during the holidays and even if he thought he wished things had been different, deep down he knew he wouldn’t change a thing. And he remembered that first Christmas they had actually spent together, he was having a hard day, a really hard day but Blue didn’t yet know he didn’t really like Christmas- he didn’t want to sound like the Grinch- so she was standing right outside the hospital with a Santa Claus hat on and she was grinning at him and he remembered she almost scolded him because they were going to be late to her mother’s dinner and he just chuckled and made fun of her for her hat.

“Everybody’s looking at you.” He had laughed.

“I don’t care. So are you.” She shrugged.

“Ain’t I always?” And he gave her that smile of his that would always have her weak at the knees.

She didn’t drive yet then so he knew she had walked from her friends’ apartment to the hospital and then he drove towards her mother’s house, that was still her own house at the time, and in the ride he prayed for the dinner and the evening not to be as hard as he anticipated.

Blue’s family was big on Christmas so Alicia was having this huge dinner and she was having everybody over- Blue’s dad and siblings and his own family. Alicia had even invited his dad but they hadn’t spent Christmas together since Harry was 7 so it was no surprise when he said he couldn’t make it.

Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra and even Elvis Presley played that night on the Anderson’s house, and every other Christmas eve after that; and the truth was as years passed, new memories came with them- first it was Blue with the Santa hat outside the hospital, then her first Christmas gift to him.

“Now” she said the minute he laid on her old bed at her mother’s house that night “there’s a present to you from me under the tree so you can open something tomorrow in front of my family but” she smiled and she had his full attention then “you’re real present is here.”

“Are you gonna give me a lap dance?” He smirked, propping himself up on his elbows over her mattress but she rolled her eyes.

“No.” She giggled. “It’s a proper present.”

“So is a lap dance.” He smiled.

“There will be no lap dance on Christmas for you, mister. Did you know today we celebrate the day Jesus Christ was born? Does it look like the night to be giving my boyfriend a lap dance?”

“You don’t even believe in God.” He laughed.

“But you do.” She smirked. “You should show some respect on his birthday.”

“Alright, alright.” He smirked. “Then what is it that I can’t open in front of your family?”

Pictures of a sexy Santa Claus lingerie set played on his mind, or maybe some new sex position she had done some research on, or maybe a new edition of the Kamasutra. She sat down before him on her bed and she was hiding something on her back and she tucked her hair behind her ears and she looked so gorgeous to him.

“Is this the present?” He smirked.

“What? I haven’t given you anything.”

“I thought it was this sight.” He shrugged.

“You’re such a dork.” She giggled and then she showed the present from behind her back.

It was carefully wrapped on reindeers’ paper and he smiled at her cheesiness. He took it from her. It was a book- it definitely was the Kamasutra- o a cheeky smirk crept onto his face. Except it wasn’t and when he read the title, even if his Spanish wasn’t that good at the time, he knew what that meant.

“Canciones para Harry.” (Songs for Harry.) He read out loud.

He opened the book and flipped through the pages. She had gotten it printed and among the lyrics, all in black ink, there were some fragments in pink and from them it came some notes written on her handwriting on shinny black ink, and he ran his fingers across them before he looked up at her. She wasn’t looking at him, instead her eyes were set on the book, and he knew she was just embarrassed.

“I made a playlist for you. Well, not technically for you. It was more a playlist about you. I started it after one day at your house when you told me you had chosen to tutor my essay because you thought I was smart. Well, I was falling for you then.” She giggled. “So I made this playlist with songs that made me think of you and I… I mean I can share the playlist with you too but I- I did this book.” She set her hands on the pages so she could point at the things she was mentioning. “I just wrote the lyrics of the songs, well I got them from the internet, and then I wrote in pink the bits that reminded me of you and on the sides I wrote why, sort of like in genius. You know that website, right? And” she flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for “since some songs were in Spanish, I translated them myself, see? There on both sides, like one of those Spanish-English books for kids” she giggled “so you can understand better.”

He was at a loss for words so he just stayed quiet, only for a moment, and he read some of it. Her handwriting: this was when we met, when I thought I didn’t need anything from your heart haha what a fool and he smiled and read the translation she had made from one of her Spanish songs about him I don’t need no clothes, I’m wrapped by yesterday’s warmth; I don’t need no clothes, I’m wrapped by the taste of honey; I don’t need anything to be between us, just our skin; I don’t need anything from your heart. And he kept reading…

Reality doesn’t let go of me. I search for a better world and dig on one of my drawers just in case you’re there. Searching for my destiny, living pre-recorded, without being or hearing or giving. I would like to talk to you so we could tune in.

My house is falling since he left and now I’m just waiting for the wrecking…. His memory’s pinned between my eyebrows. But I dream that there’s a new song beginning, I live on the echo of yout voice, entertained; and I follow the trail of your scent that says to me come with me.

I find a song that talks about me and you. Be quiet and hear it- the sound of my dreamy belly that dreams about devouring you every hour. The held back desire roars.

I want to relish on the essence of things.

I decided to leave my door open just in case your warm air comes in and brings news about you.

“It’s not much” she giggled “but I thought it might embarrass you to open something so cheesy in front of my whole family.”

He looked up at her and he just gave her a smile for he still didn’t know what to say and he hoped he was a poet then. He had written some things about her, that he had, but he didn’t even have them there; even though he had decided then he would let her read them.

“This is the best gift anyone has ever given to me, Blue.” He confessed. “But yeah, I’m glad you didn’t give me this in front of everyone because I’m all mushy now.” He smiled. “Just come here, you. Te quiero.”

So yeah, Blue had made sure he didn’t hate Christmas as much as he used to. It wasn’t that he hated them. It was just that it reminded him of everything his sister could have had but hadn’t and he couldn’t help but to think it was his own fault and so Christmas was always hard on him but since Blue, Christmas was an opportunity to pamper her and to be pampered, to decorate the entire house with her and have chocolate together and she even got him a Christmas PJs for Dylan’s first Christmas- Daddy was dressed like an Elf too- and he wore it every other Christmas after that. And that year wouldn’t be different, he thought.

“Mummy” Dylan walked down the aisle at the grocery store with his white woollen beanie on, the one Aunty Gemma had knitted for him “do you think Santa leaves presents for animals in the jungle too?”

He was four years old then but he was the smartest kid she had ever seen. They had probably overstimulated him, but oh well. When he was just one year old, Harry would tell him all these things and he would never scold him- he would just explain what was wrong and in all fairness- Blue had thought that was silly at the time- but maybe he had been right all alone.

“Yo me imagino que sí. Si han sido buenos, claro…. Pero no lo sé porque nunca he ido a la jungla.” (I would say he does. If they have been kind, of course… But I’m not sure because I’ve never been to the jungle.)

Hughie was a giant 2 and a half years old and he was sitting on the small chair on the trolley, minding his own business with the toy he had brought with him and Dylan was helping you with the groceries, grabbing the things you asked him from the shelf and placing them on the trolley.

“¿Tú quieres algo, Dylan? Es Navidad. Puedes elegir lo que tú quieras.” (Is there anything you want, Dylan? It’s Christmas. You can choose whatever you want.)

“¿Lo que yo quiera de toda la tienda?” (Whatever I want from the entire store?)

Blue smiled. The store wasn’t bigger than four corridors but she nodded her head for she figured for someone 107 cm tall, the store was actually big.

“I think I want a box of chocolates so I can share. I can leave one for Santa too.”

Blue smiled.

“A box of chocolates it is. And Hughie, is there anything you want?”

“Agua.” (Water.)

Blue laughed but handed him his bottle of water and sweet Dylan explained.

“She means a present, Hugh.”

“Biscuits.” He smiled mischievously as he looked at her.

She laughed again because the day before, he had misbehaved a little with the biscuits- he was such a gluttonous kid- but she knew Hughie was a little naughty but had such a kind heart and she secretly loved it.

Dylan was so good. He had always been so good, even when he was a baby. He would grant her 8 hours of straight sleep and he would always smile when you look at him, even before you said anything, and when he was a little older, he was so good too. So kind and such a loving big brother. She remembered when Hughie needed a nappy change, Dylan would run off to the nursery and get a clean nappy and wipes and run back to the living room and he was just one and a half years old.

After the store, they had gotten home and she had turned on the heater and she had gotten everyone on their Christmas PJs after the baths and then she had played her mother’s Christmas CD and the three of them had walked inside the kitchen where they were baking.

“Mummy, why are we making a cake for Daddy?” Dylan asked as he stirred the dough.

Hughie was sat on his knees on the stool next to his brother’s but all he had been doing was nipping on leftovers of chocolate or butter.

Well, they were making a cake for Daddy because Daddy tended to be a little sad when Christmas was coming. The accident had been on the 18th December, so many years prior, but he still felt his heart breaking every year around that time. So then, then it was December 23rd and the following day they had Christmas dinner at Abuela’s house but that day, they would have a Christmas day of their own and Harry would have a cake because a cake could cheer anyone up.

“So he knows we love him.”

At that reply Dylan looked up from the bowl at his mum and his hazel eyes set on hers and she knew another question was coming.

“Otherwise he won’t know we love him?”

She smiled.

“Es verdad, yo creo que ya lo sabe. Pero es que Daddy es médico como mamá y la Navidad en el hospital da un poco de pena, ¿sabes? Porque nosotros vemos a mucha gente que no tiene tanta suerte como nosotros y no tiene unos hijos tan guapos y tan buenos, ¿sabes?” (You’re right, I think he already knows. But, you know, Daddy is a doctor just like Mummy and Christmas at the hospital can be a little sad, you know? Because we see some people that aren’t as lucky as we are, some people who don’t have kids as beautiful and kind as you, you know?)

Hughie was listening too then and he had smiled at his mummy’s compliment and he looked so much like Harry she wanted to laugh.

“¿Y eso pone a Daddy un poco triste?” (And that makes Daddy a little sad?)

“Sí, eso pone a Daddy un poco triste.” ((Yes, that makes daddy a little sad.) Hughie frowned as she said that. Daddy was his favourite person in the world, she was sure, but so was Dylan and her herself and he didn’t like it when any of them wasn’t happy. She knew even if he was little, he would take their pain from them if he could. “Pero vosotros le ponéis feliz.” (But you guys make him happy.)

“You too, mummy.”

“Yes, me too.” She smiled.

“Mummy” Hughie smiled again with that naughty smile of his, and Blue hoped he would never grow old for it “¿cuándo es tu cumpleaños?” (when is your birthday?)

“¿Cuándo es mi cumpleaños, Dy? ¿Tú lo sabes?” (When’s my birthday, Dy? Do you know it?)

He frowned and his mummy smiled as she stared at him. He was so small to everybody but he had grown up so much to her and time was going too fast and was taking away her little baby Dy. But he was so gorgeous and so kind and she was so proud of him as it was, she couldn’t imagine how proud she’d be when he was older.

“Es en verano.” (It’s on the summer.)

“Sí, es en verano, Hughie.”

“¿Y el de Daddy?” (And Daddy’s?)

“Dylan?” She smirked.

“Después de Navidad.” (After Christmas.)

“Sí, muy bien, Dy, ¡qué observador eres!” (Yes, well done, Dy! You’re so thoughtful!)

“¿Y el mío?” (And mine?) Hughie asked.

“El tuyo es en marzo, después del de Daddy.”

“¿Cuándo es el cumpleaños de Santa, mummy?” (When is Santa’s birthday, mummy?)

“No lo sé, pet.”

They didn’t hear the door but it had been a while since Harry was standing on the other side of the kitchen door, eavesdropping to their conversation. The scent of vanilla and chocolate filled his nostrils as he stood there quiet and peaceful and he hadn’t realised the smirk that was on his lips; but holidays weren’t so bad anymore.

“Well, who are all these elves on my kitchen?” Harry smirked.

Hughie almost jumped from his stool and he clapped his hands together and turned his body around and Dylan grinned widely at his dad’s presence.

“Daddy!” Hughie celebrated. “It’s us! We’re not Elves. We’re Hughie, Mummy and Dy.”

“Oh, okay, thank you, Hughie.”

He leaned in on his sons and he pressed a kiss to Dylan’s hairline as he hugged him to his chest from behind before Hughie climbed over his chest and hugged him as if he hadn’t seen him just this morning.

“What are you guys doing?”

“We’re- uh” Dylan’s eyes opened wide as he stared into his mum’s eyes in panic.

So Harry looked up at her too and she gave him a naughty smile.

“Díselo, Dy.” (Tell him, Dy.)

“Te estamos haciendo una tarta para que sepas que te queremos y para que no estés triste.”

“Oh, muchas gracias.” He smiled at his wife and shook his head slightly, but she just shrugged and giggled.

“And that’s not the only thing we have for him, is it?” Blue smiled. “We also have a little show after dinner, right guys?”

“Yes, yes!” Hughie pressed his hand on his cheek and turned his head until he was looking into his eyes. “We learnt a song, a Christmas song with Mummy.”

“You did?” He smirked amused.

And then he set Hughie back on his stool but she asked her children to help set the table so they both started grabbing their colourful plastic cutlery and making their way to the table. Harry approached her and he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to his chest while she put the cake on the oven.

“Do you not get tired?” He whispered on her neck before he gently nibbled on her skin.

“Of what?”

“Of being so lovely.”

“What a dork.”

“And sexy.” He grabbed her butt and almost made her moan but she just pushed him away with her hips and he chuckled.

So they had dinner, the four of them, and Dylan told Harry about the box of chocolates he had gotten and Hughie told him about a meteor that apparently had crushed against his toys in the afternoon and it was simple, but it was perfect.

And then after dinner came the show and both his kids performed a very cute, very well choreographed performance of Rudolph the RedNosed Reindeer while his wife guided them from behind him. And then there came the cuddles before bed and the best moments, when they would tell each other right before turning the light off, what had been the best moment of their day. For both of them it had been the piece of cake after dinner, obviously, and Blue could only roll her eyes internally when she thought it had been none of the games they had played, or the rehearsals for their performance, of the chocolate box but the cake- it was always the cake.

And it was after the kids had fallen asleep, when Blue and Harry were having some wine in front of the fireplace that she had gotten up from the couch as Nat King Cole lull them with The Christmas Song and she had offered him a hand as she swayed her body to the slow rhythm and he had stared at her hand with a smirk playing on her lips before she had smiled invitingly and then he had finally taken it and gotten up. He placed his hands on her waist and her arms wrapped around his neck and he couldn’t help the chuckles as she sang to him.

“Merry Christmas to you.” She pressed her lips to his and there was no more singing as they kissed for the rest of the song.

The kiss started slow and neither of them had realized they were that hungry for one another until he deepened the kiss. He hadn’t done it on purpose, he had intended to go for a gentle, tender Christmas kiss, but she smelled so good… And she was so warm and he had skimmed her skin underneath her sweater and damn… She was so soft… She was always so soft and so his eager tongue had pushed her and she had moaned against his lips and that was everything he had needed.

His hand fell from her neck to the valley between her breasts and she gasped on his mouth.

“Baby” She gasped.

He hummed and kept sucking on the skin on her neck.

“The boys” She whispered “what if they wake up?”

“I need you, baby.”

He was painfully hard and he didn’t quite know how it had started. It must have been the way she smelled. But he had thought about being inside her and then he couldn’t take the thought out of his mind.

“Bedroom.” She had said.

He pulled away from her and with his hands firmly on her hips, he took her to their bedroom and he closed the door after him. His hands were on her hips as he nibbled on the side of her neck.

“I love you, Blue.” He whispered against her skin.

And his hands slipped under the hem of her pyjama pants and he took them and her knickers off swiftly before he walked towards the bed. She could feel it- his hard length, big and warm- against the low of her back and she didn’t know how she could get wet so fast but she was so lightheaded she wouldn’t have known her age anyway.

She heard him took off his own clothes and so she took off her pyjama top and waited for him with both hands on the bed, giving him her back. Warm, strong arms wrapped around her bare waist and one hand moved up and squeezed her breast while the other travelled down her belly between her legs. Her head collides against his shoulder when his fingers collected the wetness from her warm lips and spread it against her hungry clit and she moaned. She tilted her neck so she could capture his lips and his tongue searched for hers. The familiar humidity and the eagerness drove her crazy even all those years later and she let him do with her what he wanted.

With one hand on her belly, he laid her down on the bed, chest and belly pressed against the mattress and he laid his weight over her making her moan. His hands pinned hers against the mattress on both sides of her head and their lips connect on an impossibly wet kiss. She gasped against his mouth.

“I love you.” He repeated.

“I love you too” she moaned “but fuck, fuck me already.”

He chuckled before he pressed a kiss on her temple.

“My girl… Always so impatient.”

His girl… His girl was a mum already but he was still his girl, first and foremost, and he would fuck her like he did when they first met and she would scream his name and mark his back with her nails still.

She desperately wanted him inside her, but he deprived her from it purposefully, just so she was as hopeless as he was. So she could feel, even if it was on a physical level, how desperately in love he felt, how vulnerable, how much in need he felt times like that night.

The tip of his tongue went down the side of her neck and she shivered. She was deprived from movements too since Harry’s weight was over her so she could only bit on her bottom lip as he sunk her teeth on her skin, not enough to hurt but enough to sting, before he licked and kissed the pink marks. He moved above her, making her think that was the time he was going to thrust inside her, but he didn’t driving her crazy. She had hoped he would times enough so that she had given up and as if he knew, that was the time he actually slipped inside her. He groaned on her ear at the contact, that wet canal that had wrapped around him for years, his happy place, his calm. And even if he was thrusting her from behind, he still found her lips and they kissed passionately, and he would bit on her bottom lip and pull from it and dived his tongue inside her mouth.

She was a moaning mess and only then she understood why he had chosen to take her from behind because in this position at least her moans were muffled against the pillow. He held her hips and fucked hard and fast inside her and she knew they were only the orgasms she would have solo, before he’d cum himself and then he’d slipped his hand between her legs and he would rub her pussy fast enough so that she came with him again.

He was lying next to her with his back resting against the mattress and his chest was furiously going up and down and he turned her head and smiled at him sleepily.

“I think that’d do for two long sexless days.”

She rolled her eyes and chuckled and, smiling, he leaned in and captured her lips with his.

“Merry Christmas to you too, love.” 

[secretsantasides]

Gift #18: Tutoring Sessions

Gift for  @problemtique​

Request: Analogical, Highschool au where Virgil is Super Smart but prefers to hide it Logan finds out and is GAY

Virgil sat at his usual table watching crowds of students bustle about. He eyed people who got too close to his table. Whenever someone caught his eye, they hurried along. He didn’t really mean to scare them. He simply had a resting face that screamed anger. During middle school, he tried to be friendly, but it never worked out in the end. So freshman year Virgil had found himself with Dolos and Remus- the two local delinquents. Everyone feared them and began to fear Virgil for being associated with them.

He didn’t mind. He adopted his closet to match their’s. Black jeans and tops. Dark purple hoodies and high tops. Heavy eyeshadow and dyed hair. After some time, Virgil found comfort in the dark aesthetic. He found comfort in the other’s presences. In Dolos’ dry and witty humor dripping sarcasm and how he always made sure people had somewhere to belong.In Remus’ loud laughter(albeit annoying as it was loud) and how he never judged anyone for anything. Everyone viewed them as bad and no good, but they were simply chaotic. And Virgil stuck with them throughout the past four years.

His thoughts came to a halt as a familiar face passed by. Virgil could feel blush painting his cheeks as he watched the boy. The other male’s blue eyes were framed by thick black glasses. He wore a dark button up shirt and jeans as he usually would. His movements were sharp, but fluid in a way that mesmerized Virgil. He could hear his heart beating in his ears and could only hope he was the only one who could hear it. The male continued to walk along and sat down at another table a few yards away. He nodded to the other two at the table before opening a book. He always read books during lunch. Virgil knew he had cooking after lunch so he simply ate then. Similar to how Virgil ate his lunch during his cooking period beforehand. And, oh, how he wished they had been put in the same class.

“Watching Logan again?” a voice startled Virgil. He jumped and glanced towards the direction where it came from. Remus grinned teasingly at Virgil as he sat down beside him. Dolos rolled his eyes as he took his seat opposite of the two.

“That’s a stupid question. Of course he was. When is Virgil not watching Logan during lunch?” Dolos chuckled.

Virgil cursed them under his breath before speaking louder, “You say that like I stalk him or something.”

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Remus podded.

“Because he’s the model student of the school and I’m a delinquent maybe? Or have you forgotten that?” Virgil opened his backpack and pulled out two tupperware kits. He slid one to each of the others, “Here. We made Korean beef and rice today.”

The two thanked him as they began to eat. Dolos smiled, “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, you’re a really good cook Virgil.” He paused for a brief moment before exclaiming, “I know! How about you cook something for Logan? That might get his attention.”

“And paint myself as a weirdo? Like, ‘Hey, I know we haven’t properly talked since seventh grade, but I really liked you back then and I still like you! Have this cake I made for you!’? No thanks.”

The three fell silent as Dolos and Remus continued to eat. Virgil’s attention shifted back to Logan. He would glance up occasionally when one of his friends said something. Sometimes Virgil found himself jealous of Patton and Roman for being best friends with Logan. But he quickly tossed those feelings aside. There was nothing to be jealous of.

A shrill bell rang out announcing the end of lunch. Virgil shoved his tupperware back into his bag and waved goodbye to Remus as he headed off. Dolos and Virgil shared language arts after lunch so they made their way to the classroom together. The class was boring per usual. The pair sat next to one another and passed notes instead of focusing on the movie. Virgil had read the book plenty of times and seen the movie many more. He even owned the movie. He already knew everything about it and knew he would ace the test.

The class after that was chemistry with Mr. Sanders. Virgil dreaded this class, but it was also his favorite. The class itself was okay and Mr. Sanders was kind and friendly. Yet Logan was also in the class. While he wasn’t aware of it, he always managed to distract Virgil.

The purple haired teen walked into the classroom and made a bee line for his seat. It was several desks away from the door. He kept his eyes down the whole time to avoid glancing over at his crush who was seated four rows ahead of him. When the bell rang to begin class Virgil began to count down the minutes until it was over. Everytime he looked up to check the spelling of his notes or the clock, his eyes drifted to the back of Logan. He could see the other’s muscles moving through the black fabric as he wrote.

Virgil tore his eyes away from Logan’s back. He looked anywhere else. At the black tables lining the room that are used for experiments. At other students’ bags or shoes. At the cabinet full of various supplies. They landed on the clock. Thirty more minutes. Finally, he figured he’d tune back into the lesson. Every so often, he’d catch himself staring at Logan’s back again. And each time he’d force his attention elsewhere.

Just as the class was packing up, Logan approached Mr. Sanders. Virgil watched in curiosity as they spoke. Mr. Sanders smiled and clapped his hands together to gain the class’s attention. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at him.

“Class, Logan has just told me that he is now going to start offering one-on-one tutoring for those who need and- or want it. He is writing his number on the board so anyone who wants can contact him to set up a session,” Mr. Sanders beamed.

Logan sure enough had his number written on the board in large, clear numbers. Virgil realized this was his first time seeing his hand writing. It was crisp and neat and… Actually really pretty. The raven haired male spoke up, “Do not call or text me after nine o'clock or before five thirty. Please do not spam me nor call during school hours. I can help through text or over the phone if you can not meet in person. That is all.”

Without thinking, Virgil jotted down the number and made note of when not to message or call. He closed his notebook and shoved it in his backpack just as the bell rang. The male bolted for the door and disappeared into a crowd of students.

“You should totally text him!” Remus exclaimed, “This is your chance Virge!”

Virgil groaned. He regretted telling Remus and Dolos about Logan’s tutoring sessions. Now they’d find some way to force him to text Logan. They wouldn’t rest until Logan agreed to go out with Virgil- or reject him completely. He should have never let Dolos borrow his chem notes. They’re not even that good. It’s mostly just a bunch of correct spelling. He should have known Remus was going to also look at them and asked about the number. I should have lied about it.

Remus kept pressing for Virgil to text Logan or to even call him. The purple haired male didn’t notice Dolos grab his phone and start typing away. With a chuckle, Dolos placed the phone back down in front of Virgil, “There. That fixes the issue.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed at his bleach blonde friend. He quickly picked up his phone, “What fixes the issue? What did you do?”

“Set up a tutor session between you and Logan after school tomorrow.”

“I don’t need tutoring. I-” Virgil started before being cut off.

“Good thinking Dol!” Remus laughed and high hived Dolos.

Virgil stared down at his phone. A conversation between ‘him’ and Logan stared back. He felt like telling Logan the truth and cancelling the session. Surely he would understand… But what if he takes it the wrong way? Like I don’t need his help? Or that I think I’m above his help? Gah stupid Dolos…

“Fine. I’ll do this one session with him and that’s it. Got it?” Both Dolos and Remus nodded. “But Dol, you need to to talk to Roman then.”

Dolos’ face flushed. He opened his mouth a few times before closing it. Remus snickered at the sight. After a minute, Dolos nodded, “Deal.”

The next day was agonizing. Virgil had hoped he’d wake up sick to get out of the deal. Luck wasn’t on his side. He could hardly pay attention to his classes- not that he did half the time anyways. During lunch, Dolos informed him that he had spoken to Roman during Spanish class. Virgil didn’t believe him until Roman passed by and waved at Dolos.

By the time chemistry class rolled around, Virgil’s stomach was in knots. He lingered outside for a few minutes so he went in just before the bell rang. He hardly took notes and barely processed the words being said. When everyone started packing up, Logan approached Virgil.

“Hello Virgil. I would just like to confirm that we will be meeting in the library at three for your tutoring session,” Logan’s voice was flat and monotone. Yet Virgil’s heart leapt into his throat at the sound. He swallowed back the lump.

“Yeah… Totally… I’ll see you there!” He hated the words the second they left his mouth. Why did he have to say it like that? Logan nodded and the bell rang.

Virgil walked into the library to find Logan already at a table waiting. He walked over to the raven haired boy and sat down next to him. His brown eyes scanned the table. Logan already had his chemistry book and notes out. He began to pull his own out of his bag, “Hey Logan.”

“Virgil,” Was all he received back. When Virgil put his notebook on the table, Logan grabbed it, “May I look through your notes to see what all you have already?”

The purple haired male nodded. He watched as Logan frowned. His blue eyes piercing through Virgil. The latter smiled weakly as he already knew what his notebook looked like.

“This is nearly empty Virgil.”

“I know, I just…” Have most things down by memory... “Get confused as to what is important to write down and what isn’t?”

Logan sighed. He flipped through the notebook again, “We’ll start with definitions then move on from there.” Virgil nodded.

The session went smoothly. Logan was fairly patient and explained everything thoroughly. Virgil played dumb and asked for 'clarification’ occasionally. The hour flew by fast for the pair.

Virgil packed his things away. He messaged Dolos that the session was over. He watched as Logan began to pack up as well. He raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you have another session? I mean, you’re top student so plenty of people must want your help.”

“Everyone else simply texted me their questions. You are the only one who asked for a one-on-one session so far.”

“Oh.”

The two began to make their way to the parking lot. Virgil hated the silence. It made him anxious and uncomfortable. He had to break it, “Do you have your own car or are you getting picked up?”

Logan glanced at him, “I have my own car. Parents got me one when I turned sixteen. You?”

“I have my license, but can’t afford a car. Dolos is picking me up though,” Virgil explained.

“Ah. I see.”

A silence fell between them. They reached the student parking lot. It was relatively vacant with about ten cars. Virgil looked around for Dolos’ vehicle and groaned. He wasn’t here yet.

“I can give you a ride if your friend doesn’t show up,” Logan offered as he realized what Virgil groaned about.

Blush painted Virgil’s cheeks and he looked away from Logan hastily, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure he’ll show. He’s probably just trying to get his little sister into the car. He has to watch her while their mom is at work.” Why did I just tell him that? He didn’t need to know why Dolos is most likely late. He just needed to know that Dolos will show up.

“Um, okay then. Well,” Logan shrugged, “How about we have another session since you appear to need the help.”

Virgil’s heart pounded. He didn’t need the help. But this could be his chance to at least befriend Logan. He would be an idiot to waste this opportunity. “Yeah sure. I’m usually free whenever so whenever you can…” He trailed off.

“Tomorrow after school? Same time?”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Virgil smiled.

Dolos pulled up just then. He waved at both of them. Virgil rolled his eyes and began to make his way to the car. He turned around quickly, “Bye Logan! I’ll… See you tomorrow?”

Logan waved with a nod, “Yes. Goodbye.”

Virgil hopped into the front seat and looked at the back seat. He waved at Trinity, “Hey Trin. How was your day at school?”

“We had a party! And I got to eat cake! And drink soda! And candy!” Trinity beamed. Virgil laughed and Trinity joined in.

“Ssssooo, Virgil… How’d your lil’ study session go, hmm?” Dolos asked.

The purple haired male faced his friend. Dolos shot him a glance. Virgil looked down at the floorboard, “It was good. He thinks I know absolutely nothing since my notebook is nearly empty- or was. He had me copy lots of his notes. And we… Uh… We’re having another session tomorrow.”

“Ooohhh. Virgil! Look at you! Willingly doing another session!”

“Shut up.”

The following weeks, Virgil met up with Logan after school two to three times a week. Remus and Dolos always poked fun at him. He always brushed off their remarks. He was content with where he was with Logan. They weren’t necessarily friends as they barely talked outside of the tutoring, but they were talking. And they were getting to know one another. Virgil told Logan about how he was an only child and how his parents were often at work. How they didn’t want him to work because they thought he should focus on school. How Dolos and Remus weren’t as bad as everyone seemed to think they were and how he’d never trade them out for anyone else.

In turn, he found out that Logan had a younger brother who was an eight grader and an older sister who was in college. He felt overshadowed by his siblings as the middle child and that why he made sure to make top student. He wanted his parents to be proud. And they are. Virgil also learned that Logan also didn’t have a job, but it was mostly due to his after school activities. That Logan’s best friends, Patton and Roman, always supported him at academic competitions.

Break time was rolling around and report cards were handed out first period. Virgil looked at his. All A’s. A few teacher’s left notes saying the typically “pleasure to have in class” while others were left blank. He stuffed the paper into a random notebook once he was done and left for his next class. Teachers throughout the day had also been giving back past works and tests. Virgil would have preferred to toss them out, but his parents wanted to see them. They could just look at his report card to know he was doing well in school, but they also wanted to ensure he was doing his work. So he tucked all the papers into their corresponding notebooks as he got them.

Virgil had a tutoring session later that day. He felt a bit bad about lying to Logan. Yet it got them talking so it was something. Besides, everyone else assumed he wasn’t very smart anyways. They all assumed because he preferred to do anything other than pay attention in classes, that he was failing. In reality, Virgil didn’t need to pay attention. He usually got most things down by memory after going over the materials a few times. He was much smarter than he let on. It’s not his fault everyone made assumptions just because he didn’t actively show it.

 Once Virgil entered the library, he looked around for Logan. He found him at a table near one of the windows. Logan saw him and waved him over. Virgil bit back a smile as he made his way to him, “Hey Lo.”

 “Hello Virgil,” Logan started, “Today will be shorter since break is coming up. There’s not a lot to review as Mr. Sanders prefers not to give us lots of work.”

 Virgil hummed in response. He pulled his notebook out and placed it down without looking as he pulled out his chemistry book. He looked up as he found it. Logan was flipping through all of the papers cramped in the notebook. Shoot! I forgot about them!

 Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. He set the stack down with a frown. Virgil began to sweat as anxiety started to creep in. Logan fixed Virgil with a look, “You don’t need this sessions, do you?”

 Virgil shook his head. His voice escaping him before he could explain.

 “Then why?”

 “Uhhh…” Virgil’s mouth felt dry as he worked fast on how to explain, “Well… Dolos actually was the one who texted you at first. And I was planning on telling the truth, but… I don’t know…”

 He shrugged and ducked his head trying to hide the blush settling on his cheeks. It was silent between them for several seconds. Virgil was growing more uncomfortable and his stomach twisted into knots.

 “Why did you keep doing them then? You, yourself, agreed to keep showing up.”

 “Well… I… Uhhh… Reallylikeyouandwantedtogettoknowyoubetteranddidn'treallyknowanyotherwaytosoyeah?” Virgil rushed out in a single breath.

 Logan blinked, “I’m sorry. I didn’t get all of that.”

 The purple haired male drew a shaky breath, “I said that I really like you and didn’t know how to talk to you. So I decided to use this time as an excuse to hang out…”

 “Oh.”

 Silence fell between them again. Virgil reached for his stuff to start packing up. He felt like ditching all of his stuff and running away. Logan’s hand stopped him as he rested it on top of Virgil’s.

 “You realize a simple ‘Hey Logan want to hang out sometime?’ would have sufficed? I wouldn’t have said no,” Logan said in a soft voice.

 Virgil froze. His eyes were glued on their hands. He could hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He started to slowly process what Logan told him.

 The raven haired male sighed. He rolled his eyes, “Hey Virgil. Want to hang out sometime?”

 Virgil’s eyes slid from where they were fixated to Logan’s face. His heart skipped a beat at the gentle smile Logan had, “But I lied to you?”

 “Yes, well, it was nothing major that you lied about. So how about I pick you up sometime during break and we go out to eat somewhere?”

 “Um… Yeah sure! Sounds great!” Virgil laughed nervously. His heart pounded in his chest. Holy shit that sounds a lot like a date. I don’t think I’ll survive!

 “Great! It’s a date then!” Logan stood up and began to walk off, “I’ll text you details later.”

 “D-date?!” Virgil exclaimed. He heard a shush come from presumably the librarian, but ignored it. Items forgotten, he scurried after the other.

 “Yes Virgil. A date,” Logan smiled back at him, “I do prefer someone smart that I can have intellectual conversations with.”

 He ended the sentence with a wink before exiting the library. Virgil nearly fainted at the words. Dolos and Remus were going to lose their minds when he tells them. He himself could barely believe it. Virgil squealed inwardly as he went back to collect his things. Logan actually asked me out on a date! I can’t believe this! And I can’t wait!

[hellolittleogre]

Billy Goody Jane Eyre AU

@lazaefair wrote a wonderful not!fic Billy x Goody Jane Eyre AU, which you can find here, and it was amazing and then my brain went but what if Goody was the mad wife in the attic? Because Wide Sargasso Sea is a thing. And then my brain went BOOM and spat this out.

Thank you @lazaefair for the inspiration, it was really fun writing this and I hope you don’t feel like I’m playing all over your sandbox.

The not!fic is under the cut because its a lot.

Soooooooo, it struck be that of course the real touchstone for this would not only be Jane Eyre, but also Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys about Bertha’s life before the attic, and the Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte, about a woman who marries for love but her husband is a abusive and a drunkard.

Goodnight is the rich spoiled son of a Creole family on Jamaica who runs away with his brother to fight in the America civil war (they have family in Louisiana), he admires his brother and has always done what his he did. The brother dies and Goody becomes a celebrated sharpshooter but still comes home a disgrace, fighting for the losing side,  severely traumatised and having made friends with Sam Chisholm a free black man, and with alarming notions about equality and slavery.

The family marries him off to Bouge as quick as they can with a fat dowry and no questions asked. (Same sex marriages exist with the proviso that the leading partner is allowed to have one official mistress in order to have an heir, or the couple can joint decide to adopt a child).

Bouge, a nouveau riche robber baron is at first elated over such a social coup, a status spouse, old money, beauty plus the official allowance to have a mistress in order to get an heir but soon he realises he has been cheated. Once the honeymoon is over and they have settled on his new estate in England he realises the extent of his mistake.

Goody is too frail, too obviously damaged to help him get ahead socially and it's a scandal to have a mad husband, can’t even fulfill his marriage duties because he is so mentally frail (Think pretty vulnerable Ethan Hawke in the mid 90s), Bouge finds this unacceptable.

Goodnight has written letters tightly to Sam during the first year as married, trying to put on a good front (elements of the Tenant of Wildfell hall), too proud to admit mistakes. He tries to have optimism, maybe Bouge will have a child and the act of raising it will bring them together. Surely Goody is just to sensitive to his meanness, tries to be a good partner but Bouge will have none of it.

Then he has a bad period and Bouge locks him away, writes to Sam and tells him Goody has asked him to cease writing it that his emotional state is too easily upset to undertake this task himself.  Sam insists that Goody writes and Bouge gets pretty nasty.

“If you knew how he begged me, your attentions upsets him and you are a constant reminder of his unhappy past. I would not be so I gentlemanly to make further reference to your history but cease this contact, if only for the sake of the one you profess to love so.”

Sam realises he has to play the long game.

Meanwhile Billy has grown up in an orphanage, the son of a woman who came to work as a servant to a British explorer. The man was working and collecting in China, and even managed to gain entry to Joseon, where he took the woman on as houskeeper. When his mother died the man took Billy in out of good will and when he suddenly died too, Billy was bundled along with the rest of his belongings to his family back in England. The family was expecting a white child and are besides themselves when Billy shows up, it might be implied that the explorer had fathered him (he hadn't, Billy had a very loving father who unfortunately also died. If anyone feels all this dying is unrealistic I would please refer you to Elizabeth Gaskell). Billy is pushed off as quick as they can to a school. He is very learned due to the old gentleman and becomes a very good student. When he is grown he advertises as a tutor. The boys home taught him how to fight, he makes two friends a brash Irish boy called Faraday, illegitimate child and Vasquez, nephew of some Spanish noblewoman married to an English lord (everyone’s an orphan! see: Gaskell)

Billy has been working  as a tutor for a while when he meets Bouge, he wants a governess for a little girl but changes his mind when he finds Billy.

Billy is curious as to why,  as it turn out Adele his ward is half Vietnamese, her mother a French-vietnamese dancer who used to be Bouge’s mistress and Bouge figures one Asian is as good as another.

Adele is as vain and silly as she is in the book and Billy kind of loves her. Her airy head has lots of space for learning. She speaks french and english in a charming unselfconscious mix and Billy was worried how they might talk to each other but in the end he finds that his old tutors were right, the language of arithmetic is universal.

She is not Bouge’s daughter, his mistress in Paris left him and he killed her new lover and stole her daughter to torment her. She is now destitute in Paris and he sends her letters now and then to remind her that her daughter is entirely at his mercy.

He tells Adele that her maman is dead,.

Billy hears somebody crying at night. Adele is terrified of the crying ghost but later calms down,  and when Billy asks after a couple of days she says the ghost is telling her fairy stories in French and he's not dangerous, only sad. Billy is kind of bewildered by this. Sees a man spying on him in the library, looks like nobody in the household.

Bouge has come back, Billy startles his horse, and he twists his ankle and Billy has to help him home, Bouge says that he owes him entertainment for being responsible for his incarceration. There is something hungry in how he looks at Billy. Sends for him in the evenings and talk to him.

Taunts Adele, Billy tries telling himself that it is playfully.  “that's how she charmed the money straight out of my pretty pocket”. Pinches her nose and cheeks just a little too hard

Billy is teaching Adele how to fight and Bouge watches them, silent and approving, eyes roving over Billy. Presses him a little. Mentions in passing that he is dependent on him, that without reference he would never be hired again, and then how will he live. No relations and no means?

Flirts a little and makes promises, comes down one evening with his face scratched, “by an owl” but you'd always be sweet to me? It makes Billy smile. It's nice to be wanted.

Billy hears the ghost crying at night, sees a white figure in the hallways.

Then as a cold shower Bouge invites a party of similarly ranked men, McCann and Denali, hints that he might be engaged to McCann. That he might ruin Billy and leave him on the street. Your reputation is in my hands, you can never leave me.

Billy meets the ghost man. Himself and Adele are exploring the garrets when he hears a voice singing a drinking song, they can't decide from where the sound is coming from but Adele is not afraid, it is the Goodnight man, he helps me sleep. He speaks French like maman.

Eventually Billy, pretty stiff with fear at this point though he would never admit it, finds a little crawl space that leads into another stairs and they find Goodnight. (Goody is kept in a room which is bolted not locked from the outside and his nurse often dips into the laudanum and he goes wandering.) He is beautiful and confused, flitting between lucidity and imagination but the more Adele and Billy talks to him the steadier he becomes.

Goodnight are convinced they are figments of his imagination. A little girl as he imagined at the beginning of the marriage. To tell stories to and never never go to war. And their shared features convinced him, Billy and the child with the same dark hair, mere reality could never conjure anything so beautiful.

They meet at night, both of them still not convinced the other is real. Adele calls him The prince in the tower after the story of Richard III nephews and Billy secretly agrees.. Billy wakes up one night to find Goody at the foot of his bed, looking terrible. He startles and goes looking for him. Follows him into Bouge room and finds a candle overturned, saves him from the flames.

Bouge proposes the next day.

Billy accepts, he's tired of being at somebody else's mercy and charity all the time. Bouge is not too unpleasant to look at, his attention is flattering and being a married spouse offers a hell of a lot more protection than he ever thought he would have.  So he accepts.

(Bouge plans to marry him so he can become his legal guardian and force him to be his assassin, plus Billy is hot)

Meets Goody and tells him he is going to stay, and that they will have more time together. Omits to mention that it's because he's getting married. He feels reluctant to tell Goodnight that.

Billy brings wine up one night and becomes terribly drunk and kisses Goodnight. The last little bit of freedom I have left.

Adele tells Bouge about the ghost and Billy tries to downplay it and when Bouge won't be deterred he makes up a story about seeing a woman in white, an interred nun. However it makes Bouge confine Goody more securely and they can't meet anymore. Billy is smart enough to understand he can't let Bouge know he and Goody know each other.

The night before his marriage he hears Goodnight wailing in the tower, like a banshee or a condemned soul.

Sam and Red show up to stop the wedding. Sam has been living in the Indian territories (Bass Reeves!) and befriended him and finally has bided his time enough to come to Europe and track down Goodnight (they have agreed to go on a Grand Tour if it turns out Goody is fine), Bouge tries to say that he is dead but Billy puts two and two together and alerts them of Goodnight in the tower.

“There he is,” Bouge says with disdain, Goodnight white and crouched at the far end of the room, “Who would not change a vulture for a raven? Look at him, so hale and beautiful, who can blame me?”

Red and Sam bring the family lawyer who concludes that its not lawful for Bouge and Billy to be married but equally since Goody must be seen as mentally deficient its perfectly fine for Bouge to keep him locked in the attic. Like y’know, no problem.

Sam and Red tries to resist but are powerless to help, Bouge locks Goody away, very upsetting scenes between Goodnight and Sam, fighting to get to each other.

Goody comes to Billy’s room at night, tells him he has to go, go Bouge plans to do something terrible to him (possibly lock him in the cellar?) Billy doesn’t want to leave but has no choice, Goody refuses to follow him. Without me you have a chance but if I come with you Bouge will never stop hunting us, besides he has the law on his side if he chooses to bring me back while you can go where you chose and have full protection of the law.

Billy flees in the night and ends up on the moors with Faraday and Vasquez, who are living together in a cabin (coincidence!)

They plan to go back and free Goodnight (and Adele) but before that Billy finds out that the explorers family has all died and he is the sole heir, he is now rich enough to take up the fight against Bouge. He hears Goody call for him in the night.

They prepare but as they are travelling back the hear that the whole house has burnt down and the poor madman in the attic perished in the flames. Billy goes over to kill Bouge but instead finds Goodnight, the house (mysteriously!) caught fire (some say they saw a man with a bow and arrow but such talk is nonsense surely?) and Bouge died in the flames. Goodnight was rescued and inherited the lot.

Then they all live together and are disgustingly rich. They send for Adele’s maman and Emma comes to be Adele’s governess.

FIN

[m2k021]

Coffee

Part 1

Summary: Kora accidentally bumped into Min Yoongi on her way home. He offers to help her write her songs and to help her Korean, since she’s a little rusty. Over time, she begins to feel things, things she doesn’t want to feel. She knows that Yoongi thinks of her as a little sister. But does he really?

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: Fluff, Flirting, Eventual Smut

A/N: Set right before the release of Cypher 4

“Ah, dammit!” I shouted, crouching down to pick up my scattered notes. A boy kneeled to help. “No, it’s alright. I’ve got it.” I said, darting my hands out to grab the notes before he could read them. “Sorry for making a scene.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” he said, his hand reaching for my lyrics book, which was wide open.

“No!” I said, lunging forward to snatch the book from his grasp. “I-I’m sorry, it’s personal.” I muttered. My face burned with embarrassment.

“Um, I understand.” He said, flipping over the pages as he handed them to me. I finally looked up and re-dropped everything. He chuckled.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, feeling my face burn even brighter. “Min Yoongi.”

He grinned his usual gummy smile. I glanced around for the other members, semi-glad to find them not there. Suga is my bias. “So, you finally recognized me.” He teased.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for being such an ass.” I muttered, keeping eye contact with him.

“No, it’s okay. You weren’t an ass,” he said with a stomach fluttering smile. “What are they?” He asked, nodding to my various papers.

I hesitated. ‘Um, they’re lyrics.” I muttered, tucking the pages into my bag.

“Oh, you write?” He asked, leaning back on his heels to look at me.

“Not really, well, I mean, yeah, but um, I, uh, I…” I fumbled for my words,

He chuckled. “It’s alright, you don’t owe an explanation. But, if you would like someone to look over them, I’ll be glad to. I’ve got nothing scheduled for the next couple of hours.” He offered his hand to help me stand, which I took.

“Well, um, you don’t have to, that’s fine.” I stammered.

“No, I’d love to. I always like to read other people’s lyrics.” He said with a smile.

“Um, really?” I asked quietly, rocking back and forth on my heels.

“Yeah, come on. We can do it over coffee?” He asked, moving so I could walk first.

“The others won’t wonder where you are?” I questioned, turning around to look at him.

“No, they know not to expect me for another two hours. We’ve got plenty of time,” he said.

“Thanks, for doing this, but, why are you doing this?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.

He was quiet for a moment. “Well,” he slowly answered, “I like to help and, well, I think you’re cute and I want to help you.” He said, smiling at the ground.

My eyes widened and my face flushed a deep red. “O-oh, thanks.” I said, biting my lip to hide my smile.

“It’s no problem.” He said. “The shop is just up here. I was thinking we could grab a coffee, then go somewhere more quiet?” He asked, turning to me for approval.

“Yeah, yeah, that’d be great.” I said, nodding vigorously. We quickly approached the store and darted in. His face was obscured by his hat, and somewhere along the way he had slipped on his face mask.

“What’ll it be?” He asked, pushing his mask down under his chin. I grinned at the chance to see this sight in person.

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato,” I said with a smirk. He chuckled, his cheeks filling over the mask. He looked cute and puffy.

He approached the counter and gave the barista our orders before coming back to me. “It’ll be just a minute,” he said. “In the meantime, what’s your name? I never asked.”

“Oh! Right, I’m Kora.” I said, sticking my hand out to shake his.

“Kora, pretty.” He said with a smile. I blushed again. “You’re American?” He asked.

“Hmm, Italian, actually,” I said. “My mom was born in Florence, as was I, but we moved to America when I was a year old.” I explained.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Do you know any Italian?” He asked.

“Mmm, unfortunately, no, no I do not. I was too early for the language to stick, and my mom always spoke English after we moved to America.” I said, shaking my head. “I wish, though, that she’d teach me some Italian, but she’s very weird whenever I bring up Italy.”

“Aw, that’s shame.” He said. “So, why’d you move to South Korea?” He asked, asking me to wait when the barista called our names. When he came back, we both left the shop and continued to talk.

“Well, I moved here to get away from America. I’m sick of it there, to be completely honest. My life wasn’t all that good. I was the straight-A student, Valedictorian, then I graduated and my mom and dad wanted me to be a lawyer like them, but that’s not what I want.” I shrugged and sipped on the coffee, relishing in the caramel goodness.

“Then what do you want?” He asked, watching me over the edge of the cup as he sipped.

I considered the question before answering. “Well, I have a strong passion for music, like singing and dancing, and also for learning, That’s partially why I came here. I wanted to learn about another culture and language, and, I gotta say, I’m impressed.” I said with an approving scoff.

“How so?” Yoongi asked, swishing his drink back and forth. From the aroma, I could tell that it was the same as mine.

“Well, for one, your culture is amazing! You’re use of honorifics, it’s great. Everyone is so polite and respectful, meanwhile, over in America, you’ve got people shooting up elementary schools.” He smiled over the steam that was rising from his coffee. “Also, the language. I thought that learning spanish was hard, but, phew, Korean is ten times worse. It’s so complicated, especially with the Hangul. Like, if you guys wrote with the romanized version, it would have been slightly easier, but no. It was so difficult for me to learn, especially since I came here with no knowledge of Korea or its customs.

“So, when I got here, I knew nothing. I could only speak English and spanish. It took me nearly two years to learn Korean, and I’m still rusty. I constantly forget the honorifics, and people tend to think that I’m incredibly rude, especially when I mess them up. It’s so embarrassing.” I blushed slightly, shying away from his amused expression.

“Well, a few times during this conversation I’ve gotten lost. Who taught you Korean?” He asked.

“Myself,” I said timidly.

“Really?” He asked in surprise and amazement, stopping me.

“Yeah, I went to some classes, but I began to piece everything together after a while. I taught myself almost everything.” I said, my cheeks reddening again.

“Wow, for a second I thought I was going to have to scold someone, but you’re actually a pretty good speaker for being self-taught,” he said with a huff. “I’m impressed.”

I stood straighter, a little confused. “Wait, so I’m bad?”

“No, not bad, just….a little confused. You used some words backwards, but you’re still really good. If you want, I can also tutor you in Korean, in exchange that you teach me some English.” He said with a gummy smile.

I grinned. “Deal,” I stuck out my hand and he took it, shaking it firmly.

“Deal,” he grinned back. “But still, you’re pretty darn good, I just need to see your writing.” He said.

“Oof, that’s where I’m really bad.” I laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of my neck. Just then, a phone pinged and we both dug through our pockets to check ours. It turned out to be his, but I decided to shoot my best friend a text about who I was with.

Yoongi was busy on his phone as I screamed at my best friend, Ella, about what was happening. “Here, let me get your number, Kora. I’m so sorry, but something just came up.” He said, handing his phone to me.

“Oh, that’s no problem,” I lied. Maybe he was ready to ditch me. I quickly typed in my phone number and name, with a reminder of who I was before handing his phone back to him.

“Look, I’m not trying to ditch you, Kora-” he read my mind- “Namjoon is having an issue with some equipment, and none of the others can help. I’ll call you later tonight. Again, I’m so sorry. Enjoy the rest of your day.” He called out as he rushed across the street and got swept away by the Seoul current.

I huffed in disappointment. Maybe I jinxed myself when I told Ella. I thought, chugging the rest of my coffee before throwing it away. Not even a minute passed before my phone pinged. I thought it was Ella, but was surprised to find an unknown number. It was Yoongi. I internally screamed as I answered.

He wasn’t ditching me! I skipped along the sidewalk, giggling and humming happily as I made my way. I finally made it home and threw my bag down, giggling again as I sat down. I put my phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ so Ella’s frantic texts wouldn’t come through anymore. I sighed as I flopped onto my bed, tucking my hands between my knees as I thought. Best. Day. EVER!