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voie-lacte3 · 2 days ago

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HI MLLL could you do some mason thames x reader fluff where shes on her period?? 💗💞💗💞

OFC MY DEAR 'NONNY, i wasnt sure if you wanted headcannons or a fic, so i did a little of both! hope you enjoy ml 🫶🏼

—the one where mason comforts you as you 'woman' (his words not mine!)

| fluffy fluff fluff!!

| check out the rest of his masterlist!

| and my taglist while you're at it 🤷🏻‍♀️

• mason knows before you even say anything. you so much as blink slightly too hard and he’s like, “are you okay? is it... are you woman-ing?” you just groan from your couch and nod. he kisses your forehead dramatically and disappears. (he returns with a heating pad, snacks, and a blanket.)

• he literally becomes a human weighted blanket. he lays on top of you just the right amount, arm around your waist, hand rubbing small circles on your lower stomach like it’s second nature. “i’m your painkiller now. fda approved.”

• he doesn’t get grossed out. at all. if you leak on the bed or need help getting your meds or even cry over a commercial, he’s like: “babe. you’re literally bleeding and surviving. you’re a superhero.”

• runs to the store like a pro. “u want the pink ones with wings or the purple ones that feel like clouds? and when he brings them he also includes your favorite snacks and a squishmallow because "duh"

• if you're feeling gross or bloated, he literally lays his head on your stomach and goes, “this tummy’s perfect actually. 10/10 pillow. warm and soft. its honestly elite.”

• he’ll sit through the worst cramps with you, even if you're just curled up in silence. he watches whatever you want— romcom, sad girl movie, or literal YouTube commentary videos. “if it distracts you, i’m watching it. even if it’s 40 minutes about why early 2000s disney channel had the best fashion.”

• if you're irritable, he doesn’t take it personal. like at all. “why are you breathing so loud???” “my bad. i’ll just switch lungs.”

• if you cry out of nowhere (you lost a hoodie string in the wash), he just pulls you into a hug and lets you sob into his shirt. “let it out, my love. mourn the hoodie string.”

• when your self-esteem dips, he gets serious. sits you down, “listen. i know you feel gross. but you are seriously the prettiest human i’ve ever laid eyes on. like... you're stunning. even right now, in fuzzy socks and murder in your eyes.”

• he keeps a “period drawer” at his place with pads, tampons, pain meds, chocolate, fuzzy socks, and a backup hoodie of his just for you. “i stocked up. it’s the emergency kit for when my girl’s uterus goes to war.”

• he googled what foods help with cramps and tries to cook for you. once made you a salmon quinoa situation you absolutely didn’t eat, but you loved him for trying.

• he’ll literally track your cycle in his phone. he doesn’t make it weird or controlling, he just wants to know when to be extra gentle and have your favorite snacks on standby.

• calls you his “delicate little gremlin” when you’re curled up on his bed with snacks and heating pads. “look at you. fearsome. in your beast mode.”

• gives you a "period pass” — meaning anything you say goes. you want pancakes at midnight? done. you want to cuddle while watching trash TV? say less. you want to put your cold feet up his back? you got it! “your uterus is calling the shots, and i obey.”

• when your cramps are bad, he lets you lay on top of him like a heating pad. if you fall asleep? he stays still for hours. “i got nowhere better to be than under you, baby.”

• 2 words. snack roulette. when he doesn’t know what you’re craving, he just buys everything. sweet, salty, crunchy, chewy, he drops the bag on your bed like, “i got anxiety in aisle five trying to guess, so i just panic-bought the whole snack aisle.”

• remembers your period schedule better than you do sometimes. “you got really emotional last time on day 2, so... want me to cancel plans and just be with you tonight?”

• validates every single emotion like it’s the most serious thing he’s ever heard. “i cried because a crow looked lonely.” “that’s so valid. loneliness is hard. also crows are very emotional birds.”

• gives you little kisses on the forehead every time you groan in pain. “you okay?” “cramps.” kiss “cramps again.” kiss “still cramps.” double kiss

• lets you rant uninterrupted. sits there like your personal therapist while you spiral.

• occasionally says things like, “she said THAT to you? do you want me to fight her or emotionally ruin her using only two tweets?”

• random affirmations when you’re bloated and cranky, “your body’s working so hard right now. you’re literally a goddess.” “your stomach is cute and you are allowed to feel like shit.” “i’d still kiss you if you were a swamp monster.”

• offers to “sacrifice” his own comfort for yours like,“take the entire blanket, love. i don’t need it, im warm with the power of your love.” “you can yell at me if it helps. just, like, aim away from the food.”

• pretends to be mad at your uterus with you, "why would she do this to us?? we trusted her. we LOVED her."

• once asked seriously, “is there a way i can give you some of my blood so your body can chill?? like a swap?” you laughed for 10 minutes straight and then cried. and he just held you through it.

────୨ৎ──── first blurb

you’re lying sideways on the couch like a defeated worm. your blanket’s wrapped around you in a tragic little cocoon. your cramps are acting like they pay rent. your heating pad is hot, but not helping, and you may or may not be halfway through crying over a tiktok of a hamster eating spaghetti.

you text mason,

| cramps are tryna kill me, send help or mozzarella sticks

| jk. kinda. idek bro

you don’t expect a response. he’s probably busy. maybe filming, maybe with friends. maybe anything. so you go back to tiktok, continuing to sob over a golden retriever puppy who just learned how to fetch

ten minutes later, your phone buzzes,

| outside. don’t move.

girl what.

you slowly sit up like a reanimated corpse, blanket still attached, watching as he enters your house; hood up, sweatpants baggy as ever, slides with socks on, hands full of everything you could’ve wanted and more.

“emergency delivery for my dramatic little blood monster.”

you blink.

he's taking out, somehow heated mozzarella sticks, a sprite, a heating pad (??), your exact pad brand, chocolate, and a tiny stuffed duck with a little bow

“mace… did you just rob a walgreens??”

“no,” he says, dramatic eye roll following sweet. “i ransomed a walgreens. theres a difference, i pay for one of them"

he kicks off his slides and drops next to you on the couch. “how bad is it? scale of 1 to ‘murder me.’”

you groan, head flopping into his lap.

“murder me and then resurrect me as a less bloated version of myself.”

he smiles and brushes your hair away from your face. "no promises. but i can feed you mozzarella sticks and tell you how beautiful you are until the pain gets scared and leaves.”

you grin, already reaching for the snacks.

“deal.”

he wraps an arm around you, tucks the duck plush in next to you, and presses a soft kiss to your temple.“we’ll ride this out together, babe. just you, me, and fried cheese.”

────୨ৎ──── second blurb

you’re pacing the room like a feral raccoon in fuzzy socks. you’ve got cramps, your hoodie sleeves are too long, and your hair’s doing a thing. a thing you hate.

you’re bloated, your sweats don’t fit right, and someone at school had the AUDACITY to say 'you don’t even look like you’re on your period' today.

mason’s on the couch, legs folded, holding a plate of vanilla cake he got from God knows where.

he says nothing.

you whirl around. face contorted in anger, eye twitching, “and THEN he said—‘it’s not that bad, just take an advil’—LIKE BITCH, I AM BLEEDING INTERNALLY. YOU HAVE A WEAK PENIS THAT COULD NEVER ENDURE WHAT MY UTERUS DOES.”

he nods solemnly, smiling, “internal bleeding. atrocious. how dare my girlfriend woman. here, bite.”

he holds out a fork with the fluffiest vanilla cake on it. you stomp over, take it dramatically, chew with fury.“and why is it that every single time i get my period, my skin breaks out like i’m thirteen and in a clearasil commercial??”

another bite.

“people have the nerve to say ‘glow through it’ like i’m a fucking pinterest board. mason, i am not glowing. i am GREASY and UNSTABLE.”

he’s holding in a laugh, but barely. “you’re glowing in a rage-filled, powerful woman kind of way, which i think is epic”

you glare.

“you’re lucky you’re hot and feeding me.”

he shrugs.

“i know.”

you pause. take another bite, voice softening a little.

“it just sucks. i hate how i feel and how i look and how little weak XY chromosomes just... expect me to function like normal while my body’s literally in battlefield mode.”

mason puts the plate down and stands, walking over to wrap his arms around you from behind. he kisses the side of your head.

“you don’t have to function. not with me. you can cry, rage, eat cake, and threaten everyone from the safety of this house.”

he squeezes gently.

“you don’t have to shrink your feelings just ‘cause they make other people uncomfortable. if it sucks, say it sucks. and if you need me to keep the cake coming while you threaten a, ahem— weak penis XY chromosome? i got you.”

you melt into him with a sniffly laugh.

“thank you for not being a weak penis-ed XY chromosome”

he wheezes out a laugh, “of course, my love”

......later that night

you’re under a weighted blanket, still slightly annoyed at the world, but mason’s hand is rubbing slow circles on your hip while your favorite comfort movie plays. he feeds you one last bite of cake, and when your eyes flutter shut, he plants a kiss on your head, whispering “even on your worst days... you’re still my favorite.”

a/n: hope this met your standards 'nonny!

tags: @bluebvrriee @v4mpire-bit3s @neroloops @m-e-m06 @icollectrubberduckies @tuttifrutt1 @unsaidjaelinrose @sorry-for-party-rocking-rah

#mason thames #mason thames x reader #mason thames fluff #actor x reader #how to train your dragon #the black phone #🦢asks

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