#Misty’s book club

[moodymisty]

Imagine that you’re Dante’s personal serf. You do your job very well, and despite being just a simple mortal you try your hardest to easy his many burdens. You cheer him up and try to lift his spirits, you tuck him into bed when he’s got the option to sleep, and at times to help him rest you even run your hands through his hair. All to help your lord of course. Even if your feelings towards him lean towards the romantic side, you just hope that you hide them well enough. You don’t wish to burden him with it. He’s hallowed and has much more important things to worry about than the desires of baseline serf.

Meanwhile Dante feels literally the same way about you. But he’s too tired to properly articulate them so he just hopes that if he stares at you sadly enough from under the blankets you’ll finally get the memo and climb in.

Awww poor Dante, I would really do anything for him to feel a bit of relief.

[kangarooqueen]

“I’m dumb she’s a lesbian”

Jeff Sadecki anthem

[couldcarefewer]

we’re all having a normal one

[sparkthespork]

Ranking Yellowjackets Characters by their Likelihood of Having a Tumblr

6. Lottie

Now she might have the greatest Tumblr vibes out of all of them, but unfortunately she lives in the middle of nowhere without any kind of electronic device except a landline, so her chances of using any social media are next to none. This is very sad because I know her cult-y cottagecore blog would slap.

5. Taissa

Now we have someone who at least HAS a phone, but this ungodly void of a website is so notoriously unmarketable that anybody running for office would have no business using it. Given the reputation she needs to uphold, I can’t imagine Tai uses social media for anything except campaigning.

4. Shauna

Poor thing is trying so hard to act like she’s normal, and having a tumblr is not going to help. The only reason she would end up on here is because she has yet again failed at that. I should not have to elaborate on this one.

3. Natalie

Now I highly doubt that Nat likes social media, but if she used any of them it would be tumblr. You don’t have to be anonymous, but there’s also no pressure to “reveal yourself,” and probably plenty of people on here who like the same bands as her. She might also like all those aesthetic posts with edgy quotes.

2. Misty

She’d come here after the Reddit blackout, if she wasn’t here before. I can’t imagine she appreciates having to sort between actual Citizen Detectives and regular true crime fans, so she still prefers Reddit. But she’d at least enjoy the musical side of Tumblr.

1. Van

Niche and/or old movies, and gays abound? Yeah, Van’s used Tumblr. And would’ve been active on Tumblr until her cancer diagnosis caused her to shut down. All her regular customers are using it too, and if she didn’t hear about it from them, then she’s had a blog since its original days. And she definitely likes typical “Tumblr humor.”

[stackslip]

ngl guys i'm so much more invested in the middle aged versions of the yellowjackets than their teen wilderness drama. HUGE fan of truecrime fanatic and local creep misty, ADORE disastrous senator-elect taissa trying to keep her life together, BIG into shauna's soccer mom murder comedy with her husband and daughter, LOVE nat and lottie's awkward reunion and dancing around "so are you a cult leader or not" thing. if the show were just the wilderness part i'd be far more bored tbh, it'd be fun but i'm not that into shauna and jackie's Thing except as a catalyst for adult shauna to snap, and i like the folk horror best when it's leaking into the present day with "we brought it back with us".

[lottieurl]

no offense to anyone but i hope this time shauna kills jeff just so i don't have to see people thirsting for him in the tags

[moodymisty]

Guilliman is extremely methodical, making sure there's a medicae/apothecary that is close at hand and able to alleviate any symptoms until you recover. He's even more cautious after having to quarantine so many planets thanks to the Death Guard, Guilliman is well aware of how much illness can affect baselines.

He'll sit with you for awhile until you finally fall asleep, then goes to his office and promptly freaks the fuck out.

He lost both his father and mother, and seeing you sick in bed is a huge sore spot for him that takes him back to those days. He never shows his weak side (a theme with him of course) but while you sleep he's actively going grey over you literally just having a cold.

Once he's over it (he's not) he goes back and checks on you, sticking around until one of his men has to forcibly pull him away.

I have a stinking cold so everyone add to this post how primarchs/other lads would act when you’re ill. I’ll start

the lion: genuine panic, thinks that you are dying. Has not been exposed to baseline humans often enough to see them get ill and recover. You wake up with a cold, all achy-jointed and snotty, and try to drag yourself out of bed to start your duties, only for the lion to grab you by the neck and pick you up for a good sniff. You smell wrong to him — all sour, and your skin is too hot, glazed with sweat. He drops you back into the bed, growls at you to stay put, then rushes off to get Luther

“My woman is dying.”

Luther rushes along with Lion, only to find you very much alive, but a little confused.

“Her heart rate is too high and she smells wrong and she — stop moving girl — she is too hot. What is wrong with her.”

Luther very gently explains what a cold is. The Lion is not happy at the idea that he was perhaps overreacting a tad, and in typical lion fashion he refuses to acknowledge any wrongdoing. Instead he listens intently to everything Luther says you need - rest, ginger tea, maybe painkillers - then shoos his brother out, procures all of this for you, and then shoves you into a nest of pillows and blankets. Clearly whatever illness you have is far worse than other serfs, since it takes a lot to lay you low - this is the closest thing he’s given to a compliment in a while - and you require expert care. Him. That’s him. He will not leave you alone. You get a very good sleep in, but you wake up to him having not moved in six hours, his golden eyes boring into you. He makes sure you eat — “this has optimal nutrition and those green things you like, you will eat it”.

the green things are vegetables. Normally he doesn’t touch them. You are very well cared for. And just a little intimidated. If you try to leave the bed before he deems you well, he will scruff you and drag you back. No. Stay. Bad serf

[armeniuslaurant]

I'm finally rewatching Cruel Summer and Kate/Mallory is still so freaking good. Really the best way I can describe it is it feels like there is an alternate universe where it isn't canon and everyone is really mad at it for queerbaiting, it has that specific energy

[thestarlightexpress]

Kinktober 2024: Day 2 - Somnophilia - Azriel x Reader

TW: sexual themes including overstimulation and dubcon

word count: 1.48k

NSFW under the cut

The sharp wind and misty rain pelted Azriel’s face as his long flight back from the Continent came to a close. He spent the last week surveilling Koschei’s lake for any useful intel and had unsurprisingly come home with nothing. After 8 straight hours of flying, all he wanted to do was collapse in his fluffy bed and sleep for a whole day. 

He neared the House of Wind, feeling the drowsiness and pull to his bed grow even stronger as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Finally landing, his tense and taut muscles were able to gradually start relaxing. As he slowly wandered down the hallway towards his room, his ears perked up at the sounds floating towards him from a few doors down. Muffled moans and something that suspiciously sounded like a headboard striking the wall. Cassian and Nesta must be at it again.

He slowly opened his door and was dismayed to find an obstacle in between him and his comfy bed - you, laying on your back, starfished right in the middle of his bed. You were dead asleep despite gripping an open book in your hand. Knowing he was set to come back tonight, you had done your best to wait up for him but evidently couldn’t resist the coziness of his bed. 

A soft smile ghosted his lips as his shadows softly shut the door behind him. He pried the book from your hands, setting it on the nightstand before softly kissing your forehead and heading to the restroom. He quickly shed his sweat-soaked leathers before running a quick bath. His sore muscles sang in relief at the warm water. As he lay in the bath, the light and sweet smell of your arousal drifted through the open door. 

His shadows slinked back into the restroom, whispering to him the name of your book. It was one he and Nesta had been reading a few weeks earlier in their secret smutty book club. Knowing exactly what his sweet little mate had been reading had his blood swiftly rushing to his cock. He had intended to just quickly wash off and curl around you as best he could and go to sleep, but he suddenly found himself changing those plans. 

Azriel hurried to dry himself off and slip on his sleep clothes before wandering back into his bedroom. The forceful waves of your arousal nearly knocked him over. You were still in a deep sleep with a blissful smile on your face. The skimpy camisole you were wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination, showing off your perky nipples. Azriel’s gaze raked over your chest and down to your high-waisted shorts that barely covered your ass. He inched closer and closer to you, feeling his now hard cock straining against his sweatpants.

He crawled between your legs, soaking up the smell of your need as you continued dreaming. Azriel slowly gripped your shorts and pulled them down your legs. He was almost on the verge of drooling at the sight of your slick, pink pussy bared in front of him. He trailed up your legs, leaving warm open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Azriel placed a soft peck on the tip of your clit before licking a slow strip up from your entrance. His rough hands reached up to pull your thighs further apart, spreading your cunt for him.

Azriel softly suckled on your clit, sending a new wave of slick sliding down towards your entrance. He shifted down and dove into your pussy, licking up your syrupy arousal. A gentle moan slipped from your mouth as your hips shifted up and chased his mouth. He moved back up and his lips wrapped around your clit while he slipped two fingers inside you. He felt your body shifting above him as he pumped his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. A small hand landed on his head and laced through his damp hair. 

“Well, this is certainly a way to wake me up.”, your rough, sleep-ridden voice drifted down towards him. Azriel glanced back up at you from between your legs, finding you propped up on your elbows. His free hand grasped your wrist and moved your hand to rest on your stomach. Azriel sent some shadows to weave through your hair and rest around your neck and shoulders. “Go back to sleep, my love. Just let me make you feel good.” He gripped your thigh and dove back into your inviting cunt. Releasing a needy moan, you laid back on the bed and swiftly drifted back to sleep.

Your slick continued to drip between your legs, soaking Azriel’s face and the sheets below you. Even while asleep, his skilled mouth quickly brought you to your first orgasm of the night. Your back arched and your breaths quickened into soft pants as you came in his mouth. The intoxicating taste of your release had his hips bucking up, grinding his swollen cock into the edge of the bed, desperate for a sliver of relief. 

Azriel groaned into your heat as he felt his precum drip down his cock. His fingers inched further inside of you, pressing against the spot that always made you see stars and beg for more. He glanced up at you and grazed his teeth against your sensitive clit when he heard your breath hitch. He promptly brought you to your second and third orgasm until your legs were shaking around his head. Your hand drifted back down to his hair and softly pulled him up from your cunt. Drifting in and out of consciousness, you managed to string together a mumbled plea. “Too much, Az.”, your soft voice lowly murmured.

He rose up and trailed his hands over your body, taking off your camisole in the process. Azriel hovered over you and rested his head on your bare chest. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to get carried away,” You sleepily hummed and cradled his head in your hand. His head drifted up and he nosed into the crook of your neck. “But I think you can cum one more time for me, yeah?” You roughly bit your lip and rapidly nodded against him. You whined at the anticipation of feeling him again. The Mother had certainly given you the horniest male in existence for a mate. His scarred hands gripped your hips in the way he knew you loved as he gently flipped you onto your stomach. Azriel crawled off the bed and stood at the foot of the bed. He outright moaned as he loosened the laces of his pants before pulling them off to release his leaky cock from its confines. He couldn’t hide his smile at the sight of your head resting on top of your arms, already asleep again.

Azriel loved many things about his sleepy girl, particularly how cuddly and pliant you get. But this, this was something you had always talked about doing that Azriel hadn’t been lucky enough to experience. You both loved the idea of him taking you as you slept, letting him use you solely for his pleasure. His cock bobbed in the air as he stared at your supple ass, debating about how he wanted to take you. He crawled on top of you and sat on your thighs a few inches behind your ass. He gripped your cheeks before using one hand to guide the tip of his member through your soaked folds. Azriel angled your hips up towards him before sliding into you and sheathing his cock fully inside of your warm, welcoming heat.

You both groaned at the stretch, Azriel much louder than you. He didn’t even need to give you time to adjust as your body was relaxed enough by your previous slumber. He grasped your waist and pulled his hips back to thrust into you. He had been so pent up over the past week that it didn’t take him much to get close. Getting lost in his own pleasure, he roughly took your tight cunt. Your light moans could barely be heard over his hips slapping into your ass.

Azriel felt his abs straining as he started to approach his release. He shifted his legs further up the bed and caged your torso under his chest. His thrusts started to get harder and erratic as he felt you tighten around them.

Azriel bit down a moan as his hips stilled and he spilled into you, your walls spasming around him as you came for the fourth time. After taking a few minutes to catch his breath, he slowly clambered off the bed and slipped his pants back on before laying down next to you. He gingerly turned you onto your side and pulled you into his chest. Not even five minutes later, he found his chin resting on your shoulder and felt himself pulled into sleep by your comforting warmth.

Kinktober Taglist:

@honethatty12 @sweet-chai-amore @helo1281917 @scarsandallaz @thatacotargirl @a-courtof-azriel @lmadness @riorgail

[goddessofvalyria]

THE NERD BOY | Michael Gavey x fem!oc

Summary: Mabel is a rich pretty American girl who moves to Oxford to study. One day, the nerd Michael Gavey notices her in the library pining for mathematics. The boy offers his help and soon a strange understanding is born between the two…

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Mabel with black eyes and hair, oral (m receiving), SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, Michael being insecure.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4243

Mabel Reyes was the kind of girl who turned heads everywhere she went. She had that effortless beauty, the kind that made people whisper and stare in admiration. Her long black hair always seemed to catch the light just right, and her brown eyes sparkled with a confidence that came from knowing she was the queen bee of any social circle she entered. Back in California, she had ruled her high school like queen, with her impeccable grades and a cheerleading record that was the stuff of legend. She was the girl everyone wanted to be or be with, and she wore that title with pride.

But Oxford was different. Mabel had left behind the sun-kissed beaches of California for the misty mornings and historic halls of the University of Oxford. It was a place where her reputation had preceded her, whispers of the beautiful American girl with rich parents had quickly spread through the ancient stone walls. By the end of her first week, everyone knew her name. The daughters and sons of Britain's elite were drawn to her like moths to a flame, particularly a group led by the charismatic Felix Catton. Felix and his friends were Oxford's version of royalty, and Mabel fit in with them perfectly.

They spent their weekends in London, sipping cocktails in exclusive clubs and being photographed by paparazzi, their every move chronicled by society pages. Mabel dazzled them with stories of her glamorous life, tales of sailing in the Caribbean, and surfing in Australia. She spoke of America with a fondness that made it sound like a paradise, and she hinted at the life waiting for her after graduation—a life of luxury, managing her family's fashion empire back in California. 

But beneath the surface, Mabel was struggling. Her academic record had always been spotless, but maths had never been her strong suit. Now, in the hallowed halls of Oxford, the pressure was mounting. The looming exams were like a dark cloud over her, especially the thought of failing math class. It was the one subject she couldn't charm her way through, and it terrified her. 

One late afternoon, the library was nearly deserted, and Mabel was slumped over a pile of textbooks, her usually flawless appearance slightly disheveled. She had been staring at the same page of equations for what felt like hours, the numbers and symbols blurring together. She was used to things coming easily to her likes literature and history, but math was like a foreign language she couldn't decode.

That's when she noticed someone standing nearby, a figure she hadn't expected to see in her orbit. Michael Gavey was the polar opposite of everything Mabel embodied. Where she was glamorous, he was unassuming; where she was surrounded by friends, he was totally alone. But Michael was a math genius, known throughout the university for his brilliance and to be the most loser boy ever. He was the kind of person who preferred the company of books to people, someone who lived in his own world of numbers and theories.

He approached her hesitantly, as if unsure whether he should intrude on her space. "You look like you could use some help" he said quietly, his voice soft but clear. 

Mabel looked up, surprised. For a moment, she considered brushing him off, but the desperation in her chest won out. "I really don’t get this" she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Math has never been my thing."

Michael nodded, understanding her struggle more than she knew. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her, his presence calming in a way she hadn't expected. "Let me show you" he offered, and for the next hour, he patiently explained the concepts that had been eluding her.

As they worked together, Mabel found herself relaxing, her usual defenses lowering as she realized that Michael wasn’t there to judge her. He was just there to help.

As the weeks passed, Mabel Reyes found herself surprisingly drawn to the company of Michael Gavey. What had started as a purely practical arrangement—using Michael's brilliance in math to help her pass—had slowly transformed into something more. With each study session, she began to appreciate his quiet intelligence, his dry sense of humor, and the way he never treated her like the celebrity she was used to being. Michael saw her as Mabel, not the glamorous American heiress or the popular girl everyone envied, but just Mabel.

Word of their unlikely partnership spread through Oxford like wildfire. It was the kind of story that people couldn’t resist: the nerdy, awkward boy and the beautiful, popular girl, straight out of a rom-com. People gossiped about them, whispered as they passed by in the halls, and even made bets on whether something more would happen between them. But Michael, in his usual fashion, seemed completely unfazed by the attention. He never cared what others thought, and he made that clear during one of their study sessions.

It was a chilly afternoon, and they were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, the same place where Michael had first offered his help. Mabel was struggling with a particularly difficult equation, her frustration growing as she scribbled out yet another wrong answer. Sensing her tension, Michael calmly walked her through the problem step by step, his voice patient and steady.

After they finished, Mabel leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I heard there's going to be a big Christmas party soon. Felix and the others are all excited about it," she mentioned casually, glancing at Michael to gauge his reaction.

Michael didn’t look up from the book he was paging through. "I was NFI: not fucking invited" he replied, his tone neutral but with a hint of indifference.

Mabel frowned. "Why not? There will be all the college!"

Michael shook his head, a small, almost bitter smile on his lips. "Michael Gavey doesn’t exist in the eyes of others. And honestly, I don’t care about their stupid lives. They’re all wrapped up in their own little bubbles. I’m just not part of that world, and I’m fine with it."

His words struck a chord with Mabel. For so long, she had been the center of attention, the one everyone wanted to be around. But with Michael, she was reminded that not everyone was drawn to the same superficial allure that had defined her life so far. She looked at him, really looked at him, and noticed the faint blush creeping up his neck as he kept his eyes on the book. It was then that she realized something she hadn’t noticed before: Michael had developed a crush on her.

At first, she had used his feelings to her advantage, making sure he would continue to tutor her. But now, things were different. She had come to value his friendship and his company, and she didn’t want to hurt him. He was the only person who saw her for who she truly was, not just a pretty face with a wealthy background. And that mattered to her more than she wanted to admit.

The Christmas party was only a few days away, and as the date approached, Mabel found herself feeling more conflicted. Normally, she would have been excited about dressing up, being the center of attention, and partying with her friends. But this year, something felt off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, the party wasn’t where she wanted to be.

That evening, as she sat in front of her vanity mirror, carefully applying her makeup and fixing her hair, she couldn’t help but think about Michael. She pictured him, alone in his room or maybe at the library, completely uninterested in the glitz and glamour that surrounded her life. Part of her wanted to be at the party, to enjoy herself and live up to the expectations everyone had for her. But another part of her wondered what it would be like to spend the evening differently, away from the spotlight and with someone who truly understood her.

As she finished getting ready, she stared at her reflection, feeling a tug in her heart. For the first time in a long time, Mabel wasn’t sure what she wanted. The Christmas party was just hours away, but whether she would actually attend was a question she couldn’t yet answer.

Mabel stared at her reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail. Her silver dress clung to her figure perfectly, shimmering with every movement. The high boots added a touch of boldness to her elegant look, and her hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place. Her makeup was flawless, highlighting her already striking features. She was the epitome of beauty, the kind of girl who could stop traffic with just a glance.

But as she gazed at herself, a strange feeling washed over her. This was the image everyone expected of her—the glamorous, perfect Mabel Reyes. Yet tonight, it felt like a mask she no longer wanted to wear.

She took a deep breath, stepping away from the mirror and grabbing her coat. The party was waiting, and she knew she’d be the center of attention as soon as she arrived. But as she walked through the corridors of the old Oxford building, her heels clicking against the stone floors, doubts began to creep in. Each step felt heavier, as if something was pulling her back.

Halfway to the party, Mabel stopped. She could hear the faint sounds of music and laughter in the distance, but instead of feeling drawn to it, she felt a growing desire to be somewhere else. With someone else.

Without giving herself time to overthink, she turned around and headed back in the opposite direction. Her heart raced as she made her way to Michael's room, a decision forming in her mind with every step.

Michael was in his room, completely absorbed in solving a complex equation. Numbers and symbols danced across the pages of his notebook, the familiar comfort of mathematics grounding him in his solitude. The Christmas party was the furthest thing from his mind; he had never been one for social events, especially those where he felt like an outsider. 

But then, there was a knock at his door. It was unexpected—no one ever knocked on his door, especially not during party hours. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was a mistake. But the knock came again, more insistent this time.

He got up and opened the door, and there she was: Mabel Reyes, the most beautiful girl in all of Oxford, standing in front of him. The sight of her took his breath away. The silver dress, the high boots, the impeccable hair—all of it made her look like she had just stepped out of a dream. But there was something different in her eyes, a softness that he hadn’t seen before.

“Mabel?” Michael stammered, utterly confused. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the party?”

Instead of answering, Mabel took a step closer, her gaze locked on his. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside her. Michael, with his slightly tousled blond hair, glasses slipping down his nose, and that familiar sweater vest, looked up at her with wide eyes, clearly baffled by her presence.

Without a word, Mabel reached out, grabbing him by the front of his sweater. In one swift motion, she pulled him towards her and kissed him. The kiss was soft yet firm, a collision of two worlds that had seemed so far apart until now. Michael froze for a moment, completely taken by surprise, before he slowly started to kiss her back, his hands hesitantly finding their way to her waist.

As she stepped into his room, the door closing behind them, Mabel felt a wave of relief. She had no idea what this meant or where it would lead, but right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the connection she felt with Michael, something genuine and untainted by the expectations of others.

They pulled apart, both a little breathless, and Michael stared at her, still in shock. “Mabel, what—why did you do that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mabel smiled, a real, unguarded smile. “Because I wanted to” she said simply, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “I didn’t want to be at the party. I wanted to be here, with you.”

Michael blinked, as if trying to process her words. “But...why me? You could be anywhere right now, with anyone.”

“Exactly” Mabel replied, her voice soft but certain. “But I’m here. You’ve been the only person who sees me for who I am, not just what I look like or where I come from. You’ve been real with me, Michael, and I needed that.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, slowly, a smile began to spread across Michael’s face, one that lit up his usually serious expression. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening, but he didn’t want it to end.

Mabel stepped closer again, resting her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. It felt right, in a way she hadn’t expected. And as they stood there, holding each other in the quiet of his room, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little universe.

Michael stood there, his heart racing as he processed what had just happened. The girl he had admired from afar, the one he never imagined would even notice him, had just kissed him. And now, she was standing in his room, looking at him with a smile that made him feel both exhilarated and terrified.

“That…that was my first kiss" he confessed shy, his voice trembling slightly. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, but there was something about Mabel that made him want to be honest.

Mabel's expression softened as she took in his words. She had suspected as much, but hearing it from him made her realize just how different their worlds were. Yet here they were, together in this moment. “Well, I’m glad I could be your first,” she said with a gentle smile.

She reached down and began to unlace her high boots, sliding them off one by one. Then, without hesitation, she climbed onto his bed and patted the space next to her. “Come here” she invited, her tone playful yet sincere.

Michael hesitated, nerves tying his stomach in knots. This was all so new to him, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. But he couldn’t resist the pull he felt towards her. Slowly, he walked over and sat down beside her, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He was tense, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which made any sense.

“What now?” he asked nervously, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Mabel looked around his room, taking in the shelves filled with books, the stacks of papers covered in equations, and the general chaos that was the domain of a true academic. It was exactly what she had expected—a space that reflected Michael’s brilliant but solitary mind. She turned back to him, her smile widening as she realized just how innocent he was.

“I’m guessing that if that was your first kiss...” she began, her voice teasing, “you’ve never had a girlfriend either?”

Michael shook his head, his blush deepening as he met her gaze. “No, never” he admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. He had always been focused on his studies, never even considering the possibility of a relationship, let alone one with someone like Mabel.

Mabel’s smile turned mischievous as she stood up in front of him, looking down at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Mmh, Gavey” she murmured, her voice soft but full of intent. She reached for the straps of her silver dress, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she let it slide off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet.

Michael’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of her standing there in front of him, completely vulnerable and utterly breathtaking. His face turned a deep shade of red, and he quickly averted his eyes, not sure where to look or what to do.

Mabel, seeing his discomfort, stepped closer and gently lifted his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. “It’s okay, Michael,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

But he was nervous, more than he had ever been in his life. He had no idea how to navigate this situation, and the fear of doing something wrong was almost paralyzing. Yet, the warmth of her presence, the softness in her voice, made him want to try, to take a step into this unknown territory with her.

Mabel leaned in and kissed him again, this time slower, deeper, her hands resting on his shoulders. Michael closed his eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of her lips on his, letting go of his fears, if only for a moment. When they pulled apart, she guided him to stand up, her hands trailing down his arms.

She could see how tense he was, but she also saw the trust in his eyes, the way he was willing to let her lead. And in that moment, Mabel realized that this wasn’t just about physical attraction or desire; it was about connecting with someone on a deeper level, someone who saw her for who she truly was.

Mabel stood in front of Michael, now wearing only a lace thong and no bra, her boobs were big and round. Her confidence was unshakable, while Michael was visibly flustered, unsure of where to look or what to do next. His glasses fogged up slightly, and he fumbled with his hands, trying to figure out where to place them. The reality of the situation was overwhelming, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.

Noticing his discomfort, Mabel stepped closer and gently reached up, removing his glasses. She set them aside on the nearby desk, her touch soft and reassuring. “You don’t need these right now” she said with a smile, her voice low and soothing.

Michael blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden blur of the room without his glasses, but Mabel was the only thing he could focus on. Her closeness, her warmth—it was all consuming. He swallowed hard, still feeling awkward and unsure, but Mabel’s presence was calming.

She could see how nervous he was, and she knew she needed to ease his anxiety. “It’s okay, Michael,” she whispered, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll guide you.”

Mabel’s words were like a lifeline, something for him to hold onto in the midst of his swirling thoughts. He nodded slightly, trusting her to lead him through this unfamiliar territory.

With that, Mabel leaned in, closing the gap between them, and began kissing him softly. Her lips moved against his with a tenderness that was both comforting and exhilarating. Michael was stiff at first, unsure of how to respond, but Mabel was patient. She took her time, her hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to relax.

Gradually, Michael began to respond, his lips mirroring hers as he let go of some of his tension. Mabel’s hands wandered down his back, feeling the slight tremble in his muscles as she deepened the kiss. She pressed her body against his, feeling the heat between them intensify.

Michael’s mind was spinning, the sensation of Mabel’s skin against his, her scent, the softness of her lips—it was all overwhelming, yet he found himself getting lost in the moment, letting her guide him as she had promised. 

As their kisses grew more passionate, Mabel could feel Michael beginning to relax, his awkwardness melting away under her touch. She knew this was all new to him, and she wanted to make it a moment he would never forget, a memory they would both cherish.

Mabel pulled back slightly, her lips just inches from his, and whispered, “Just follow my lead, Michael.” Her eyes searched his for any sign of hesitation, but what she saw was trust, and something more—desire.

With a reassuring smile, she guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to explore, to take the next step. Michael hesitated for only a moment before his hands moved cautiously over her skin, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

Mabel kissed him again, more urgently this time, letting him know that it was okay to let go, to embrace what was happening between them. And slowly, Michael began to do just that, surrendering to the moment, to her, as the rest of the world faded away.

Mabel took off his sweater and shirt, stopping to admire his bare chest. "Do you go to the gym Gavey?" she said with a smirk, noting his defined chest and toned arms. "When... when no one sees me" he revealed shyly.

Stripped of his clothes and wearing only black boxers, he felt uncomfortable. "I've never had sex" he declared. "I... I've never touched... a... girl" he continued embarrassed. Mabel, sitting on his hips could feel the hardness of his masculinity. "Fuck Gavey" she whispered.

"I'd like that" he continued embarrassed. "With you" he added, shyly encircling her hips with his hands. "If you like" he looked up at her. "Mmh yes, Gavey" Mabel whispered. She rose from his hips. "Look at me" she ordered, slowly slipping off her lace panties.

"You can keep them" she whispered, naked in front of him Michael felt paralyzed. he couldn't take his eyes off her. Mabel climbed back onto the bed, on top of him. "I can do something to make you feel better" she whispered kissing him, slowly moving her kisses down. she felt michael tremble, she grabbed his hand to give him confidence. Then she pulled down his boxers, revealing his big fat cock. She smiled at Michael before taking him between her lips, sucking him and feeling him give under her touch. The nerdy boy started to pant, that girl was demonic.

Mabel got even more excited, sucking and licking him, she felt herself soaking wet between the things. she didn't make him come, she stood up licking her lips, leaving Michael hard and erect. "Why---" he moaned.

"My pretty and nerdy boy" she began looking at him. "Do you want to fuck me, Michael Gavey?" Mabel asked. Michael felt himself blushing, he looked at his erection. "I... I would like that" he whispered. "Look" Mabel whispered, bringing two fingers between her legs and showing them to the little nerd. "I'm soaking wet and horny because of you"

Michael felt himself faint, his breathing becoming heavy. "Do you have a condom?" he asked. "Fuck, no, sorry I-" Michael began.

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill" Mabel replied, lifting her hips. "Say goodbye to the little virgin nerd Michael Gavey" Mabel whispered, letting Michael's big cock invade her.

"Oh fuck Michael" she cried as she started to move, she put her hands on his chest riding him, michael brought his hands around her hips helping her move. She was so hot, so wet, tight... god, she was driving him crazy. Mabel was riding him so good, so easy.

Michael reached up to her breasts, touching her sore nipples. Mabel found herself moaning his name, riding him so fucking good that Michael felt the need to come. "Look at you," she whispered, cupping his face with one hand. "You're so cute, Gavey..." she teased him again, and soon Michael hardened and came inside her.

Mabel closed her eyes, clenching around his cock, coming on top of him. She collapsed on top of him, shaking and sweating, her makeup running.

Michael hugged her. "I know you like me," she whispered against his ear. "You have a girlfriend now, Michael Gavey."

Michael felt his heart explode with joy.

He had a girlfriend.

He was loved.

"If you want to," she whispered, still lying on his chest. "I... I'd like that, pretty girl," Michael whispered. Mabel smiled, sitting up.

"Ah" she groaned in pain. "My legs hurt." Michael looked at her. "You fucked me so good, my little nerdy boy." Michael sat up, gently took the blanket from the bed and handed it to her. "Sleep with me," he offered. "Of course I'll sleep with you," Mabel whispered, still naked, slipping under the sheets.

Michael let her have the side of the bed next to the wall, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I like you Michael, I really like you," Mabel whispered.

"Two weeks after you started tutoring me, I broke up with my boyfriend," she declared. "I was with him because my parents made me."

Michael felt a tightness in his chest. "With you, I felt free to be who I wanted to be and you accepted me." Michael turned onto his side, caressing her face and warming her with his body.

"My little nerdy boy," Mabel whispered, kissing him so intensely that it made his insides tremble.

Finally, Michael Gavey was happy and proud to be the little nerd boy.

[moodymisty]

When the Legion Mother is going into labour, who'll help her?

It's between an Apothecary or a group of midwives. And I think I'll go with the latter. Apothecary specifically are made to treat Astarte physiology. I don't think they'll even know what to do in the moment they'll get a new brother 😭😭

Fun fact, in Eye of Ezekiel a group of dark angels are actually forced to help a civilian woman give birth. Well not forced but you get what I mean. She unfortunately doesn’t make it but the baby does.

I think think the potential for a fic where poor Lady Guilliman or lady Sanguinus goes into labor while only in the presence of her retinue would be fucking hilarious.

Like they have zero idea what to do, there’s no midwife around for even emotional support, and like, this is your genefather’s wife and child, you cannot fuck this up. Hilarious.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Epilogue✨

Club Owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me and loving Joel and Angel as much as I do 🥹 This series has meant the world to me, and it’s been so healing to write. I can’t wait to write a whole book about them 🥰

Chapter Summary: As days turn to long months, your love for Joel only grows stronger. And tonight, you’re right back where it all began.

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Tags: Just a lot of fluff and Joel and Angel being in love 🥹

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Three Months Later

The vibrant colors of pink and shades of ruby reds fill your peripheral vision as you make your way through Club Inferno, which is now called Angel’s Place. A place that’s become like a second home; a place you’ve come to love because this is Joel’s, and he’s made it as much yours as it is his.

As you pass the lit-up bar, you nod to Tommy, who’s standing behind the bar in his black leather jacket, conversing with one of the blonde bartenders. He smiles your way, and that big grin nearly covers his entire face when he lifts a glass of whiskey to you and pushes locks of greasy black hair back into place.

Tommy feels like as much a part of your family as Joel is now, and you can’t imagine not having either of them in your life. They anchored you when you were slipping under the stormy waves, pulling you free from the darkness and impending doom. You won’t ever thank them enough for showing you what a real family feels like but also what stability feels like.

Giving him a friendly wave, you turn and push your way through the rowdy crowd, stepping into the quiet hallway that’s draped with muted pink lights and hanging mirrors. Your heart thunders in your chest the closer you get to Joel’s office, overly excited to see your favorite person in the entire world who’s also the absolute love of your life.

Your love. Yours.

Smiling ridiculously wide to the point where your face hurts, you stand in front of those glossy black doors, the ones that’ll lead you to Joel. When you flick your eyes up, they become a little misty each time you stare at your mark he imprinted on his club.

A sign that’s the color of a light pink blush sparkles on top of the door, and the name takes your breath away every single time your eyes trace over those words. Angel’s Place marks the wall with sparkly wings that hover on the outsides of the name. And it feels like it's yours more and more each time you see it glowing in the hallway.

He told you he put it right over his office because that’s where you belong, with him. And it’s probably one the sweetest things he’s ever done. No one has ever gone through this much effort for you, but Joel did. In fact, he gave you the entire world.

God. You love this man with every fiber of your being, and you don’t think you’ll ever stop. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

Latching your hand against the large door handle, you turn it and step through the heavy doors, immediately met with the smell of spearmint, whiskey, and scents of freshly chopped wood. Joel’s signature scents. Your favorite smells. You waft in his presence and lean against the now closed door, your eyes staring straight into the center of the room at your man.

He’s wearing one of his favorite green flannels, sleeves rolled up to the elbows to expose those thick, veiny arms you love to get wrapped up in. His tousled dark locks are slicked back by some expensive gel, and you can’t help but smile at how gorgeous he looks under the dim lighting of his office. Even with his nose stuck in some paperwork, you think he’s the handsomest man you’ve ever seen. And you just can’t believe he’s yours.

He sighs and flips over a stack of white papers, groaning into the air. “Tommy, not right now. I said I’m…”

“I’m not Tommy,” you giggle.

Joel looks up from his piled up paperwork, and a wide grin slowly spreads over his plush mouth. The mouth you love to kiss. “You sure as hell ain’t, sweetheart.”

“You busy?” you ask sweetly, letting your hand linger on the painted door as you pull away and start to head toward his mahogany desk.

“Never too busy for my girl. C’mere.” He throws the stack of papers out of his hands, not even caring that some fly over the desk onto the floor. Pushing his leather office chair back, he coaxes you forward, curling his thick fingers in a come hither motion until you’re close enough to where he can reach you. He snatches your hips and pulls you onto his lap, his strong arms circling your waist until you’re face to face with him.

“Hi,” he smiles, pushing a loose strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

“Hi,” you purr back, your hands locking around his neck. “I missed you today.”

“Not as much as I missed you, Angel. Been dreamin’ about kissin’ those pretty red lips of yours all damn day,” he says, his fingertips trailing down your skin and lingering on your cheek, making you blush from the affection that’s slipping from his glistening brown eyes.

“Well, now you can, handsome.” You part your full lips and give him a big smile, and he just can’t stop staring in awe, like you’re a diamond in the rough. You’re his diamond.

“C’mere then, babygirl.” He tugs you flush to his chest and presses his lips against yours, eliciting a deep sigh when his mouth melds to yours. He tastes like whiskey and smells like an autumn day, out in the woods where pine trees and chestnuts permeate throughout the cool air.

He smells like your favorite scent, and you want to bottle it up and keep it forever. Maybe make your own perfume so you can smell like him every time you’re apart.

He’s got you hooked, and you’ll never be able to let go.

“God, I’ll never get tired of kissin’ you. You’re sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted before,” he pants out through messy kisses, reeling you back in to lick inside your mouth.

You open wider, allowing him to swallow your moans whole with every stroke of his tongue, hands roaming through his tousled hair, making him groan into your mouth while his fingers press further into your hips. It’s like the room is on fire, and both of your bodies are the center of the heated flames.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Angel,” he mouths, nipping at your bottom lip and teasing you on.

“Oh, Joel. Stop. You’re making me blush,” you giggle, nuzzling your nose against his in an affectionate way.

“Well, s’true. You’re the sweetest thing that’s ever walked into my life. And I want you to know, you make me the happiest man in the world.” He smiles and kisses your cheek, his lips dragging along the shell of your ear, nipping and teasing as he elicits another giggle from your lips.

“And you, Joel Miller, make me the happiest woman. I love you.” You curl your fingers over the soft material of his green collar and stare into beautiful brown eyes.

“Not as much as I love you, Angel. You really know how to make a man’s life light up with that beautiful smile of yours.” He pushes your hair to the side and slowly plays with the strands like they’re guitar strings, his fingers expertly working as they drag along the back of your head.

Another groan and you’re tugging him forward. “Come here, handsome.” Your mouths meet again, hot and fiery like the first night you met him, simmering sparks flying across the warm air as your lips lock together. There’s a hunger in his kiss, like he wants to devour you whole, but he’s also so gentle, and you think he’s the perfect combination. He’s dominant and soft. So very soft.

When your lips break apart and your ragged breaths fill the air, he cups your cheeks in his large palms and a soft smile curls against his mouth. “Why don’t we take this in the back, where it all began.”

You smile and crawl off his lap, locking your fingers with his as you tug him forward. “Take me to the back then, Mr. Club Owner.”

He chuckles and licks his bottom lip, pulling you out of his office and back into the dark hallway, back where it all began. “Follow me then, Angel.”

You gladly follow after him, your glittery heels clicking against the polished floor, his eyes dark and dangerous, a smirk curled against his mouth. His eyes flick back and forth between you and the last door in the hallway, and your heart pounds impossibly fast at the possibilities of tonight.

You haven’t been back in this room in weeks, but tonight is your lucky night. Because this room right here is where everything began. It’s where you found all-consuming pleasure, where you found this dominant yet gentle man, where you fell in love with those big sappy brown eyes you want to drown in, and now he’s all yours. Now you’re free. Free to love, to be vulnerable, to express your feelings without any consequences.

Joel freed you from your dark shades; now you’re just a swirl of vibrant, glittering colors that paint the sky bright hues of pinks and violets.

He tugs you through the sleek doors and leads you across the shiny floor, past the embers of the crackling fireplace, right to the felt-topped pool table. Wrapping his arms around your waist tight, he picks you up and lays you down against the soft velvety material and crawls over you, your legs splayed wide as he hovers over you, his lips brushing softly against yours.

His arms cage you in, his broad body crowding your space until you can’t smell anything but him crashing against you like a rolling wave. Your body hums with electricity, the blood pumping through your veins violently, and your center is already slick for him, ready to take on anything he has for you.

“Look at us, right back where it all started,” he hums, the pads of his fingers brushing locks of hair behind your ear, trailing them down down down until he’s hiking the skirt of your dress up, teasing you slowly and gently.

“Look at us,” you whisper back, eyes glistening like gold when he tips his head down and looks at you with those soft, sappy brown eyes you just can’t get enough of. If you had an option, you’d fall right into them, let him drown you until all you can see is him.

He’s all you ever want to see. Forever.

His lips brush against yours as light as a feather, and you melt into the pool table, letting your fingernails trace against his greying scruff, tangling your other hand at the back of his neck in those smooth curls that feel like silk.

“You gonna be mine forever, Angel?” he smiles, leaving a trail of kisses down your cheek and ending at the base of your neck.

“Mmm, yes. I’m yours, Joel. Forever and ever. I’ve always been yours.”

His lips crash into yours like a tidal wave, everything else in the room fading to black. It’s just you and Joel, your pink shades mixing with his dark reds, colliding into mere bliss as the kiss envelops you fully.

He pulls off just enough to mutter those three words you love to hear repeatedly. “I love you, Angel. Always have and always will.”

“And I love you, handsome. You’re my forevermore.”

His lips fall back on yours, and then the night fades away while he makes passionate love to you on top of the pool table. But this time it’s not just lust. No. It’s a beautiful, everlasting love that can move mountains.

Your love for Joel is infinite, as is his. You had to go through the dark times to find the light, and Joel showed you that light. He lit every single spotlight he could find and pulled you out of the dark pits of despair. He saved you in every way a girl would want to be saved.

He was the reason you found love again. He was your savior, and he gave you wings so you could fly. He showed you what it was like to be fully loved, and it was beautiful like a brand new pair of white wings.

And when you couldn’t fly; he caught you and taught you how to fly again. He was your safety net, and you finally knew what it felt like to be loved.

Joel is love, and he’s everything you’ll ever need.

This club, this room is a sacred place. It’s Joel’s and yours. And it’s where your love will continue to grow, forever.

[tetragonia]

Masters of the Air characters as aesthetics

John 'Bucky' Egan

Bucky was a golden hour, warm hues of gold and amber casting a soft, ethereal glow over everything. Giggles and banters over a sip of liquor. He was a low hum in a pub, filled with chatter and joy. Bucky was a worn sheepskin jacket, familiar and comforting. Waves crash against rugged cliffs, vivid colors pop against a backdrop of blue skiess. He was gentle and dominating, yet he asked to be taken care of behind closed doors. Back arching high against the bed sheet, hands pinned and left marks everywhere. He was a smoky jazz club alive with the sound of saxophones and clinking glasses, the sound of people laughing so loud until the stomach hurts. Grass stained knees. Running through the rain without an umbrella. He was classical music blasting from a cheap speaker. He was Apollo playing his instruments.

Gale 'Buck' Cleven

Buck was a calm before a storm. A misty forest enveloped in fog, with towering trees draped in moss and winding paths leading to hidden glens and secret clearings. He was both silent movies and thunderstorms that you'd feel inside your chest. Raised eyebrows and cold hands, pinching the bridge of your nose. Watching a painting a bit too long before the gallery was closed. Long walks to the library. Winter winds and freezing hands, subtle glances across the room. He was soft murmur of reassurance and a gentle touch behind the doors. Consensual and always asked if it's okay. Dark red lipstick, chilled red wine. A quaint cottage nestled in the countryside with a thatched roof and ivy-covered walls, surrounded by a garden bursting with fragrant herbs and vibrant flowers. He was Hestia tending the sacred flames.

Harry 'Croz' Crosby

Harry was the swirling feelings in your stomach night before a trip. A vintage typewriter sitting on a weathered wooden desk, surrounded by stacks of yellowing paper and antique books. The soft autumn sun. He was handwritten letters and cracked statues. Silver waves lapping at the shore and seashells scattered across the sand like scattered jewels. The rattling of rain against the window, messy and needed direction. He was scribbles and ink stains, messy notebooks, and the tea kettle whistling in the silent morning. He was urgent and hurry, but comforting afterwards. He was everything about pleasure behind closed doors. A disheveled bedroom with rumpled sheets and discarded clothing strewn across the floor, with posters peeling off the walls and sunlight filtering through grimy windows. He was Poseidon guarding with his trident.

Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal

Rosie was a vintage record player spinning vinyl records, filling the room with the warm crackle of music. He was sweet smiles and clear eyes. Paper planes. Overgrown rose bushes. That one song you always skipped but ended up loving it. He was tweed jackets and loose blouses. A field of wildflowers stretching out as far as the eye can see, with colorful blooms dancing in the breeze and the scent of earth and pollen filling the air. Gentle and nurturing, caring and soft behind the doors. He was a giver and always maintained satisfaction. He was pink-tinted blush. A pair of combat boots scuffed from countless adventures. Smiling at strangers on the street. He was all kind and modesty, but also Athena leading battles.

[nopointic]

when lisa said how everyone always says "time heals all wounds" when you lose a loved one or are hurt so badly you feel like nothing will ever be okay again, and she said that's a lie "time is the wound" i was like!!!!!!!

that's the fucking wound!!!!! that's why we feel distressed when we're looking back at memories and can't find that shirt we wore every other monday to a club meeting or that bracelet your grandma gave you. the smudged and faded writings in old books you've had on your shelf for ages. we memorialize EVERYTHING as humans. hell even animals do too!

we write letters and sing songs and we lay flowers and grin at laughs that sound familiar and get misty eyed at scents we catch walking through a crowded store. we cut hair and keep lockets of it and i've seen parents hold onto gowns they wore at the hospital while giving birth (my grandma still has the gown she gave birth to my mom in! she's 82 years old!!!!!!!!!! had my mom at 17!!!!!!) we are all made of memories and lisa is so right about how nobody should be forgotten.

the creature leaving flowers and writing beloved wife on her tomb! the gummy rings! the stitches she used to put him back together. the note folded like a football and she used her favorite pink gel pen! you KNOW she spritzed some perfume on that letter! you know lisa! we know her! cos weird shy quiet girls are her! (i am still selectively mute)

time is an open wound because we don't know how much we're gonna get. when he played the piano and lisa said you had a whole life. yes! people in the past had lives and fufilling ones! even if the final tombstone says something as fucked up unmarried or unknown, that use to be a vibrant soul! a person! like you and me.

lisa frankenstein may be corny or too campy to some, but it was everything my libra pink heart emoji with the yellow sparkles could ever want in a romcom.

someone literally ride or die for you, showing you their wounds, holding their wounds and saying i see and feel you and i'm gonna make this better, not perfect, but better, and i love you for loving and noticing me, and not throwing me away. for remembering me and picking me over and over even when i wasn't there. even when i didn't talk. when i couldn't talk. when i chose NOT to talk. you picked me? and loved me anyways? and got me?!

that is love.

and yes, lisa frankenstein is poetic cinema to me. sorry not sorry but it is. 5 stars. a million pink heart emojis.

a pair of gummy rings and tulle skirt in pastel goth colors with bold rainbow suspenders. this movie has my heart!

[star-dust-stuf]

Neil Perry x period!reader

title: girl you’re sweet like

warnings: mentions of blood, pain

a/n: you know me, I had to do this! I hope you like it, not proofread, as always enjoy.

-

Neil was studying in the dining hall, and to be honest I didn’t even want to study I just wanted to cry in my damn pillow. I went just for Neil though, maybe it would make me feel better. When I arrived and sat next to him he greeted me with a smile, “hey! I thought you had a girls soccer club to practice for?” He watched as I sat down.

I shook my head, “I quit before I even started.”

“Oh…” he put his head down to his paper.

“I-.” I cut off, my heart in my throat and a feeling I’ve felt before sat under me, I crossed my legs, he saw my worried expression.

“What?” He gave a small chuckle.

I shrugged, “mmh?”

He saw I was playing dumb so I got up, not thinking anything of it, when I made it out the door I felt him close behind me. “Neil-!” I turned and saw his brown eyes gaze at me.

“I think you-.”

“You forgot your books-,” I said, interrupting him.

“No- wait, y/n!” He tried to catch up with me when I walked off again. “I think you-.”

“Neil, my stomach is killing me.” I walked up the stairs, he followed.

“Y/n, you started your p- p-…” he stopped in his tracks, making me come to a complete stop.

“I… what?”

“You- you got your p- period.” He saw my face turn pink, I felt the back of my skirt, I was damp, “it’s ok- hey!”

He ran after me when I ran into the girls bathroom and shut myself in a stall. I didn’t expect him to follow me in there, but he was consistent. “It happens sometimes. Let me help you… please?”

I saw him outside the stall, i felt tears go down my chin. “I- I cant Neil,” I breathed as the pain intensified.

“Let me take you to your room…”

I took a moment, my heart going in its place when I opened the stall, his sweet face met mine, “I- I…”

“You’re in pain, let me help you!” He said softly holding out a hand for me to hold, I took it. He led me to my room.

He got me clean clothes, “put these on,” he smiled at me, he turned his face to the wall and waited, when I was done he got me tugged into my bed, he lied beside me, practically cradled my stomach.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why not?”

When I lied there with him I felt his body rest against mine, he relaxed more. He took my pain away, his soft eyes over me like misty clouds in a pink sky, his smell was familiar and felt like home.

I jumped at the sudden knocking at the door, Neil got up and got to the door, opening it a crack He saw Keating. “Mr Keating!” He was surprised. “W- what are you doing here?”

“What am i, what are you in her bedroom?!” He laughed.

“Oh umm…”

“She’s late for class, and so are you!”

“She’s feeling a little- under the weather,” Neil replied.

“Is she ok?” Keating asked.

Neil nodded, “yeah, you know.” His voice squeaked.

I hid myself under the covers. “Will you be joining me?” Keating asked.

Neil looked to his feet, “well- she’s…” Keating listened carefully. “She needs someone right now so I thought I’d-.”

“That’s alright, Neil. Tomorrow then.”

“Yeah, tomorrow!” Neil smiled.

When Keating backed away, he the saw me in my bed, he gave a wink and walked away. When Neil shut the door he gave a sigh if relief, “ok.”

“Ok? What’s he gonna think when we go into class tomorrow!”

“He doesn’t think we’re- you know - i mean, Im sure he knows what I meant when I said ‘under the weather’.”

I looked down, “really?”

“Don’t be embarrassed, y/n, it’s a period it’s not that big of a deal- well, it is a big deal but not like that!” He got snuggled with me again.