#he was just. having himself a little snack

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

The Return of Superman- Jaemin

(cw: f!reader called “mama”, children)

Jaemin liked his privacy. He liked knowing that only certain parts of his life were shown, certain parts he shared, he liked having the clear distinction or public and private. He, of course, enjoyed providing content for his fans and living a dream that millions of people could only dream of.

He got the best of both worlds. He got to date you for a good few years without getting caught, he'd spent two years of newlywed marital bliss with you with only so much as a statement from his company to let the world know that he was a married man. When he was asked about you, his wife, he merely smiled and expertly evaded answering. So how did he get himself here?

What had happened in his years of famous privacy to now allow a whole camera crew into his home to film him and his daughters-- who, no one had even seen since they were posted with obscured faces in a birth announcement post 3 years ago?!

It had definitely been his management that suggested he do the show, they planted the seed in his brain, but it was you who pushed him to do it! "Come on, my love, the fans will love it. You can do just one episode and then the girls won't be seen until their 30! Come on, it'll be fun," You'd convinced him. And Jaemin, well, he wasn't a strong man when his wife was whispering so sweetly in his ear and pressing even sweeter kisses against his cheeks.

So that's how he got into this mess, at least he would have you to help him out... right, he wouldn't. Damn this show!

-

"Would you stop rubbing your head against the pillow, please?! Appa just did your hair!" Jaemin yelled in exasperation, his eyes locked on the three year old who for some reason was rubbing her head across the pillows on his bed. Meanwhile, his hands were preoccupied with the identical girl standing on a stool right in front of him.

"Well, what an introduction to the Na family," a commentator laughs while they all watch Jaemin struggle to pull one of his daughter's hair into a bun while simultaneously also trying to sweet talk the other twin to stop being a menace. He was unsuccessful.

The scene cuts to show Jaemin sitting in front of a black backdrop smiling at the cameras as he introduces himself, "Hello, I'm Na Jaemin from NCT. I have twin daughters, Taera and Sora. They're both 3 years and 5 months old and the light of my life-- along with my wife, of course. Taera is the older of the two and struggles with listening, at least to me while Sora is the better listener of the two."

The producer behind the camera asks a question and Jaemin listens intently before answering, "honestly, of the two of us, I'm the parent that let's the girls get away with a lot. She plays the authoritarian role, which admittedly, I struggle with. The girls are just too cute to get mad at!" He takes a break to think over his answer, "I do think it will be a little difficult with it being just me and the girls. Usually my wife and I are each responsible for one of the girls, and we rarely go out just one of us with both of them. It will be very interesting to see how this plays out."

-

The scene cuts to a scene of the toddlers running around the living room, hair done in tiny buns on top of their head, looking messy, though no one can tell whether that's from their running around or their dad's lack of skill. Jaemin can be seen scrambling around the kitchen filling matching purple and pink water bottles with water and tossing snacks into the bags.

"I wonder what Jaemin is getting the girls ready for..." One of the commentators adds as the girls play tag with each other, giggling wildly.

There's nothing telling quite yet, both girls are wearing matching pastel pink shirts and pink sweat pants with white socks. Jaemin wrestles them into sweaters, then their backpacks, and finally their matching Crocs. He holds one twin on each hip, making his way to the car to load them into car seats.

"Wow! He's a professional! Look at the way he carries both of them at once!" A commentator exclaims in wonder.

"Wait a second, this song sounds familiar," Another commentator adds quickly. The panel quiets down, all eyes locked on the screen to watch the girls dance around in their car seats.

"Chew-chew-chew-chew chewing gum! Chew-chew-chew-chew," the girls chant, legs kicking out as they wiggle and dance in their chairs. They look so happy, smiles plastered on their faces and Jaemin, he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else right now. His face is set in a mild frown, listening to this repetitive song that he made when he was 16.

-

The scene changes, showing Jaemin helping one of the girls into a tutu while the other, who is already dressed, twirls around laughing as her skirt flares out. "Oh my! The girls are in ballet! How cute!" One of the producers coos.

Jaemin can be seen sitting in front of the black screen once more. "Oh yes, the girls are trying out ballet. We want to get them more involved in other activities and find some way to get their energy out. They're not very... good yet, but it is only their third lesson. I think Sora might be more of a ballerina in the future, and maybe Taera will be better at something more... energetic."

True to his word, the scene cuts to show a very focused Sora following her dance teacher's instructions. Her arms are posed in front of her while in the first position. She listens intently and copies the teacher's moves, she wiggles her feet out until they point outward and extends her arm.

"Good job, Sora. That's perfect!" The teacher praises softly. Sora giggles excitedly, a blush spreading across her small, chubby cheeks.

On the opposite end of the room, her twin is jumping and reaching for the small window that allows parents to look into the small studio. Jaemin is busy taking pictures of Sora among other adoring parents to send to you when he hears a familiar sound, even muffled he'd know that sound anywhere. He casts his eyes down and catches Taera with tears in her eyes and red cheeks with her arms reaching for the window.

Jaemin jumps into action quickly, moving his way through the small group of parents around the window and enters the small room with a look of concern on his face. Taera has never reacted like this before. He pulls Taera into a hug, calming her down until her tears have stopped. He sends an apologetic smile to the teacher and she sends him a small bat of her hand as if to say, 'it's fine.' Jaemin cups Taera's face, wiping away her remaining tears with the pads of his thumbs, "princess, what's wrong?"

She lets out a shuddery breath, her tiny chest trembling while she tries to breathe in a deep breath, "I want Mama to watch me too."

Jaemin feels his heart break, pouting sympathetically at his daughter, "I want her to be here too, princess, but she'll be back before you know it. Tomorrow we can wake up early and make breakfast for her when she gets back. How does that sound?"

"With berries?" Taera asks with wide eyes.

Jaemin laughs softly, booping the girl's nose, "yes, with berries. Now, go be a good big sister and dance with Sora. We can't leave her alone can we?"

"No," She smiles, turning to run to her sister's side before she comes bounding back to Jaemin. She presses a kiss to Jaemin's cheek, "love you, Appa. Stay with us?"

Like Jaemin said, he can never say no to them. Instead of joining the rest of the parents on the other side of the small window, he finds himself following along with the teacher's instructions behind the rest of the children in the class.

His daughter's turn to look at him with the biggest smiles he's ever seen. They're so excited that he's in class with him and even more so, doing the dances with them!

The commentators coo at the scene, gushing over Jaemin being such a good dad. He raises his arms, drops them, extends them forward, and situates his feet into the right positions to follow along with the teacher.

At the very end of the episode and his girls sit in front of the black backdrop. The girls raise their arms over their heads, forming the biggest hearts their little bodies will allow. In unison, all three Na's scream out, "we love you Mama!"

Jaemin leans forward, getting close to the camera with his arms wrapped around the twins to keep them from falling, "you're not allowed to leave me alone with these monsters ever again!"

The girls giggles persist as the episode fades away, a faint, "but Appa you said we're princesses."

"Yes, baby I did say that. You're like monster princesses, do you like that?"

The girls can be heard screaming a loud, "no!" in perfect harmony.

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: Bad Energy

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, mentions of baby stuff, pregnancy symptoms and one moment where Ethan is mean (not to you lol)

A/N: I feel like y’all are working your way to a good place and maybe y’all can be friends soon if nothing happens that could potentially get in the way?👀✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r

Summary: You and Harry have sort of an odd routine going and the two of you begin discussing baby names and rocking chairs✨

“Morning.” Harry softly greets you when you open your apartment door, you give him a small smile as you move out of his way so he can enter your apartment allowing him to head straight for your kitchen. You let a yawn escape you as turn so you can follow him after closing the door but Harry pauses right before he enters the archway of your kitchen and turns his head to look at you over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to-”

“Lock the door.” You finish for him with a tired sigh making Harry have to bite his bottom lip to keep the soft chuckle to himself. He enters the kitchen while you turn and quickly lock the door so you can join him and take your usual spot at your little table while he busies himself with cutting fruit and the random veggies.

It’s been almost two and a half weeks since Harry came over to your house far too early in the morning just to make you some green juice and since then he’s been coming over every other morning. The only difference is he now changes what he puts in the juice depending on how you’re feeling about certain fruits or vegetables and he also secretly adds a bit of protein powder because he knows you’re in more of a snacking stage and the odds of you sitting to eat a whole meal are slim. Most of the time the two of you engage in some simple small talk while you sit at the table and watch him cut things up, not getting too deep about anything minus Harry asking questions such as how you slept and if you’re feeling okay or if your ankles are still swollen.

“Do you want pine-”

“Oh please don’t even mention that evil fruit.” You say with a groan making Harry just nod as he puts the pineapple back in your fridge and grabs a mango instead. “I don’t understand why something that tastes so good has to hate me so much.” You pout as you place your chin in the palm of your hand while your other one rests on your bump as you lean over your small kitchen table.

“I’m guessing it’s still causing you some reflux issues then?” He asks as he looks around your fridge for the bag of spinach he just brought over the other day.

“Yes but sometimes I think it’s worth it but not today.” You explain with a yawn making Harry take a half step back from the fridge so he can turn his head and look at you with a raised brow. Normally you’re a bit sleepy when he comes over for your morning juice before you head off to work or he has to go run an errand or attend a meeting but he’s never seen you this tired before and it makes him a little concerned about how well you slept last night.

“How did sleep last night?” He questions as he hears you let out a small sigh as you close your eyes and give him a shrug.

“I don’t know if I actually got any sleep last night so I guess that would mean I slept horribly? No that sounds a bit dramatic. I’d just say I slept not very well.” Your mumbled rant like explanation makes Harry chuckle as he shakes his head and closes the doors to your fridge, he places the fruits and veggies for you juice on the counter near the cutting board and then turns so he’s fully facing you.

“Well come on then.” You slowly open your eyes just as Harry takes a few steps towards you with his hand out. “You can drink your juice in bed and take a nap afterwards or something. But you need rest. It’s important.” He tries to not sound bossy or rude because he knows the two of you are in a weird place right now and he doesn’t want to do or say anything that would make you upset enough to kick him back out to just being allowed in your hallway.

“You’re just trying to get me out of the room so you can put weird stuff in my juice.” You accuse him with a playful glare as you sit up and take his hand so he can help you get up from the chair.

“You caught me.” He jokes as he wraps his hand around your smaller one before taking a step back so you have room to stand in front of him. “I’m just trying to load your juice up with things you hate.” He adds as you let go of his hand and head out of the kitchen, he stands there for a moment not sure if you want him to follow you or not since really the only rooms he’s ever been inside of in your apartment are the living room and kitchen.

“Can you grab my water for me please? I left it on the counter.” You call over your shoulder as you make your way to your bedroom. Harry doesn’t hesitate as he turns and grabs your green and pink water bottle off the counter and walks out of the kitchen into the living room.

He catches a glimpse of you just before you enter your bedroom at the end of the hallway and for some reason he feels nervous as he stands there with your water bottle in his hand. For a moment he worries that you’re only being this relaxed about him entering your bedroom because you’re exhausted and don’t really know what you’re doing or saying. But then again he knows you well enough by now to know you are usually always the one who tries to be polite and civil out of the two of you, it’s usually him that messes it up with his unkind words or actions. So he just shakes off his nerves and heads down the hallway to leads to your bedroom, he can’t help but pause at the door on his right that he knows is your spare bedroom because you told him one morning how you’re happy you splurged for the two bedroom unit when you moved in so the twins won’t have to share a room with you.

When you get to your bed you look over your shoulder and when you don’t see or hear Harry you quirk a brow as you turn and take a few steps towards your bedroom door. You poke your head out and you can’t help but smile when you see him standing in front of the twin’s room, you take a few more steps so your about halfway between where he’s standing and your bedroom.

“You can look inside if you want.” Your voice being so close to him makes him jump a bit causing the ice in your water to clink against the metal sides of your bottle.

“Oh uhm I don’t-”

“You don’t what? Want to see where your children will be sleeping and playing while they’re with me? That’s rude.”

“Well when you put it like that then okay yeah I’ll take a look.” You chuckle as you reach for your water bottle so you can take it from him, Harry chews on his bottom lip as he turns to look at you and when you just give him a reassuring nod as you take a sip of your water he places a hand on the doorknob and twists it open.

Harry feels his heart beat faster as he takes a step inside the room, he obviously knows that you’re carrying twins meaning two babies but seeing two cribs set up really seems to make it feel all the more real for him. He steps further inside the room and places a hand on one of the cribs as he looks around the room. The walls are a soft white and to no surprise you’ve hung up a little bookshelf in the corner that has a few books already on it, the cribs are also white and when he looks down he sees you picked out matching sheets for them that have little story book animals on them such as Pooh Bear and Petter Rabbit.

“It’s not done yet but sometimes when I can’t sleep or I’m restless I come in here and-”

“Did you put these together yourself?” He asks as you walk over to the dresser on the opposite side of the wall the cribs are on.

“I did yeah.” You answer as you turn and look at him, his eyes are a little wide and you know he wants to say something about how that couldn’t have been good for your back or your ankles. “It wasn’t very hard and it didn’t take long.” You explain as you place a hand over your very obvious baby bump, giving it a soothing rub as you walk over to the bookshelf.

“I haven’t uh-I haven’t gotten cribs or really anything yet.” He informs you as he runs his hand that’s not gripping the side of the crib through his hair as all of a sudden a feeling of being unprepared and overwhelmed with things he needs to get begins to hit him like a tidal wave.

“That’s fine Harry these were just on sale so I grabbed them. You have plenty of time to-”

“What if they come early and I don’t have anything still? Or what if they hate the cribs I pick and never want to sleep in them or-” A soft hand landing on top of his that’s gripping the crib makes him stop his rambling. He blinks a few times as he tries to calm his breathing down before he looks over at you and sees you giving him a small yet comforting smile.

“They’ll like whatever you pick Harry because you’re their dad and they’ll know you picked it just for them. Now I’m sure there’s going to be days and nights they don’t want to sleep but it won’t have anything to do with the cribs you get them.” You do your best to reassure him and ease him away from the edge of the small anxiety attack you know he is mere moments away from having.

“Would you uhm maybe want to help pick some things out for them?” He knows he could ask his mom or sister to help him but honestly for some reason he feels like picking the furniture for his nursery would be a good experience for the two of you to have.

“Sure oh actually your mom invited me shopping tomorrow she wants me to help her pick some crib sheets so would you want to just join us for that and we can look at cribs and stuff as well?” You feel a tinge of nervousness as you tell him about the plans you made with his mom, not sure if he is aware that she reaches out to you to see how you’re doing and even comes over for the occasional cup of tea.

“She told me about the two of you having plans tomorrow.” You let out a sigh of relief as you move your hand off of his and place it back on your bump. “Are you sure you would be okay with me joining you? I don’t want to get in the way.”

“She’s your mom Harry so of course I don’t mind you joining us.” Harry watches you closely as you speak so see if he can find any hints that you’re lying just to save yourself from hurting his feelings. But when you just stare at him for a few moments before taking another sip of your water he knows you’re being honest, you really don’t care if he comes with the two of you tomorrow and oddly enough he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact he’s going to be shopping for his twins with their mother and his mother.

“Okay I’ll uhm call her later to set up the details.” You just nod as you turn and head for the door while Harry still stands with a hand on the crib closest to it. “I’ll uhm go-go get started on your juice.” He fumbles over his words as he finally releases his grip on the wooden frame of the crib and turns around so he can see you standing in the doorway with your back towards him.

“Okay but don’t try to sneak any carrots into it this time or I’ll probably start crying.” You warn as you take a step into the hallway.

“Carrots are good for-”

“I don’t care what they are good for Harry they ruin the juice and make it a disgusting color.”

“The juice is already a gross color? It’s green.”

“Says the man with big dumb green eyes and green shorts on?” To that Harry decides to ignore your comments about his eyes and takes a moment to look down at his outfit, having forgotten he came here from the gym so he is in fact wearing green athletic shorts and a gray tank top with his neon colored running shoes.

“Just go lay down and I’ll bring you your carrot free juice okay?” You give him a smug smile as he stands at the end of your hallway near the living room with a hand on his hip while you stand in your bedroom doorway with your water bottle in one hand and the other also on your hip.

“Okay.” Harry rolls his eyes at how happy you sound all because he agreed to not add any carrots to your juice, he watches as you turn and enter your bedroom and waits a few moments till he hears the sound of your water bottle being placed on your nightstand before he turns to go to the kitchen.

“Oh and Paris is in the living room!” You shout as you fold your covers back so you can climb into bed, wanting to give Harry a heads up on the orange cat’s whereabouts since he still doesn’t seem to like Harry therefor thinking it’s okay to still use his ankles as little chew toys.

As if on queue Harry hears the all too familiar sound of a bell jingling from behind him just as he begins to cut up the mango that he decide would be a good substitute for the pineapple in your juice. He freezes the moment he feels the soft hair and slightly pointy whiskers rub against the back of his calf, Paris’s go too move before he sinks his teeth into the flesh right above Harry’s ankle bone. Harry takes a deep breath in preparation for the pain he knows he’s about to endure and sure enough maybe two seconds later he feels Paris bite down on his ankle as he starts to purr while Harry releases his breath and lets out a groan.

“Fuck sake Paris how long are we gonna be doing this mate? I’ve been here how many times now and you still don’t like me? I’m making your mom homemade green juice for Christ sake what else do you want from me?” Harry rambles on as he looks down at the orange cat who is just sitting there staring at him all innocently as if he didn’t just make a meal out of his poor ankle.

“One day you’re going to like me. I just know it.” Paris tilts his head to the side and looks up at Harry for a brief moment before he decides he’s done in the kitchen and walks off leaving Harry standing there with a half cut up mango in one hand and a knife in the other.

Harry isn’t sure if he’s dreaming or not, because surely there’s no way you actually said what he just heard come out of your mouth.

“I’m serious.” Your simple statement answers his question as you cross your arms over your chest and stare at him with a very stern look in your eyes that he’s never seen before, granted he hasn’t been around you for very long but still he’s never seen you look so serious.

“It’s a rocking chair how can it be haunted?” He wonders as he looks at the wooden chair in question that’s currently sitting in between the two of you.

The two of you are in the middle of a antique shop looking for some things to go on the wall in your nursery and also to see if they have any baby furniture that could potentially go in the nursery at Harry’s house. While it upset you a bit it’s no surprise to Harry that his mom suddenly “wasn’t feeling well” as soon as she found out you had invited Harry to tag along on today’s shopping trip, he knows very well she’s fine at home on her couch watching her shows and researching things for her garden. And while normally Harry would be annoyed at her subtle ways of trying to interfere in his personal life he’s thankful his mom isn’t here to witness him look absolutely lost on why the mother of his children thinks used rocking chairs can be haunted and refuses to buy one.

“Not haunted but it could hold bad energy from the last person who used it.” You explain for the second time as you scrunch your nose up while looking at the chair. “What if the last person who sat in that chair was a weirdo? Or was a serial killer?” Harry rolls his eyes at your ridiculous reasoning for why the chair could have bad energy.

“Oh come on what are the odds Ted Bundy used to rock his kids to sleep in this rocking chair.” Harry playfully argues as he points to the chair while you drop your hands from your chest so you can reach over and smack Harry’s arm with an annoyed huff making him glare at you.

“Why would you say that? Now we really aren’t getting it you asshole.” You snap as you give his arm one more smack before turning around and heading further down the aisle of old vintage looking furniture. Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand over his face because it’s only been half an hour since the two of you started this shopping trip and at this rate he’s not sure if the two of you will still be on the decently good terms you’ve been on the past few weeks by the time it’s over.

“Are you really mad? I know you’re more emotional than normal right now but it’s just a rocking chair and it doesn’t have to go in your house it can go in mine.” He tries to reason with you as he follows behind you down the aisle, he hears you let out a scoff at he mention of you being emotional and he instantly knows that wasn’t the correct thing to say.

“It’s not just a rocking chair Harry.” You quickly turn around to face him making him take a step back so he’s out of reach making you unable to smack him just incase you get the itch to do so again. “It’s where you put your babies to sleep while singing a lullaby and where you soothe them when they are upset and-and where you sit and read to them before bed and I just don’t want one that someone has already had all those special moments in. Even if it’s not going in my house I know my babies will still be sitting in it with you and I just-”

“Okay okay we can get you a brand new chair that no one has ever sat in just-just stop crying.” Harry’s words are rushed as he takes a small step towards you so he can place his hands on your shoulders, you didn’t even realize you were crying until you finally feel a few tears roll down your cheeks. You sniffle a few times as Harry bends his knees so he can be eye level with you. “I promise you will get whatever rocking chair you want. Just please stop crying.” He’s practically begging you at this point and giving your shoulders some gentle squeezes as you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan

“Oh sorry am I embarrassing you?” Your voice is a mixture of harsh and watery making Harry let out a sigh as he stands up and drops his hands from your shoulders. “Because news flash Harry pregnant people cry a lot okay?” He doesn’t want to start a fight with you so he just stands there and lets you take your frustration out on him because it was his poor choice of words that caused this reaction from you in the first place. “It’s not like I can control it either. I just cry all the time over the stupidest stuff.”

“I just don’t like seeing you cry.” You almost don’t hear his admission as he looks down at his feet while rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you upset I didn’t know you uhm had such strong feelings about rocking chairs that’s all.” He explains as he looks up at you making you let out a huff as your arms fall to your sides.

“It’s okay.” You tell him as you adjust the strap to your purse, Harry watches as you make a face of slight discomfort and he can’t even stop himself before he’s reaching over and grabbing the strap, he raises an eyebrow as his silent way of asking if this is okay and when you just let the strap of your bag fall into his hands he smiles as he takes your giant purse and puts the strap over his shoulder.

“I read somewhere that most people hyper fixate on one thing during their pregnancies and I just think mine has been the nursery. Mainly the furniture in it. So that’s why I uh had my-my little moment about the rocking chair.” You tell him as a way to help him get a better understanding on what’s going on in your mind, since you know having a breakdown in the middle of a store isn’t ideal especially for him. Mainly because anyone within a few feet of the two of you would be able to tell instantly who he is thanks to the short sleeves of his worn out Rolling Stones shirt letting his more recognizable tattoos be on display.

“Gemma’s was the car seat. She read every single safety review on hundreds of car seats and I swear she still doesn’t even like the one she uses everyday.” You smile as Harry talks about his sister, doing his best to help make you feel like he really does get it and that you being very particular about what you want in the twins nursery is totally normal.

“Oh speaking of Gemma I was thinking of Nora if one of them is a girl.” Harry feels as if his feet all of a sudden don’t know how to work as you turn around to begin heading down the aisle, tossing out a baby name as if it’s just a suggestion on what the two of you should eat for dinner and not a possible name for one of your children. “And I like Anne as a middle name and I know it’s her middle name and obviously it’s your mother’s name so I thought it would be cute?” You add having no clue Harry is still frozen in place a few paces behind you.

“Uhm-uh you’ve been thinking of-of names already?” He asks as he quickly rushes to catch up to you before you turn to head down another aisle that has framed art.

“Yeah? I’ve been thinking of names since I found out I was pregnant but I’ve just now narrowed the girl name down to that one.”

“And it’s Nora?”

“Yes I like Nora.”

“Nora is nice. I think I like it.”

“I’m glad.”

“So Nora as in Jones?”

“Uh more like Roberts.”

“And who’s that?” You stop mid step and turn to face Harry who has a very curious expression on his face as he flips through a bin of floral themed art.

“Nora Roberts is an author.” You answer making Harry just nod as a small smirk forms on his face.

“Should’ve known.” You roll your eyes as he looks over at you. “Of course you want to name our daughter after an author while I want to name her after a musician.”

“Well at least both Noras are talented.”

“You’re missing the most important part of this whole thing.”

“And that would be?”

“We just agreed on something.” The grin he gives you leaves you no choice but to smile back. “Nora Anne Styles? Or did you want them to have your last name? I’m fine with hyphenating it if you-”

“Styles is fine.” Harry feels hit with an odd swirl of emotions at your answer, knowing that you want the twins to have his last name makes him have a sense of pride but also makes him feel slightly nervous that one day they might hate having the same name as him. “I haven’t thought about boy names yet.” You tell him before you turn to look at a bin that has framed posters.

“Uhm how do you feel about Edward?”

“Edgar? Like Allen Poe?”

“Uh no I uhm said Edward not Edgar.”

“Oh sorry. Edward-Edward what?”

“James?”

“Edward James Styles.” You whisper it at first making Harry nervously rub his lips together as he listens to you repeat the name a few more times before nodding. “Okay yeah I like it.” You say with a smile as you place both hands on your bump before you turn to face him.

“Wow we are two for two.”

“Better stop before we break our streak or you even worst you make me cry.” Harry rolls his eyes as you take a step towards him while holding a hand out. He doesn’t know what you want his hand for but he turns so he’s facing you and gives it to you anyway with a quirked brow. “Can you feel that?” You ask as you place his hand on the side of your bump, he’s about to shake his head no when all of a sudden he feels like tiniest something press against his palm.

“Is-is that one of them?” You just nod as Harry stares down at his hand that’s pressed firmly against your bump. You watch his eyes go from wide and shocked to soft and glossed over so you place a hand over his and give it a small pat just as he lets out his first sniffle.

“Figured it was your turn to cry in public.” You joke as he blinks a few times trying to stop the tears from actually falling and rolling down his face.

“Thanks.” He says with a wet chuckle as you move his hand to the other side of your bump so he can feel another tiny little movement.

“I think they are stretching or something.” You explain as Harry just stares at his hand with a look of pure amazement. “They’ve been extra active today though.”

“I bet it’s because of the carrots I snuck in your juice this morning.”

The laugh you let out has Harry imagining for a moment this is what it would be like if the two of you weren’t just a few levels above being complete strangers who are having kids together and instead you were just two people happily shopping for nursery decor for their twins. It’s moments like this that he desperately wishes he could remember more about the night he met you because it’s glimpses of you like this, laughing at a stupid joke he said that have him feeling like you are so easy to be around and he’s sure that’s how he felt about you that night as well. But the harsh reality that Harry is very aware of is moments like this are rare for the two of you, he’s already made you cry today so he just tries to live in this moment that has him feeling a comforting sense of happiness as long as he can because sooner or later he knows it’s going to come to an end.

You let out a groan as you stretch your legs on your couch letting your sock covered feet land in Ethan’s lap which makes him just roll his eyes when he looks down and sees you wiggling your toes at him. He turns to look at you and lets out a laugh when you poke your bottom lip out and continue to wiggle your toes, a combination you know he can’t resist. Ethan lets out a huff as he places his phone down on the table next to the couch so he can use both hands to gently rub your slightly swollen ankles.

“You’re so lucky I love you because I usually never touch feet for free.” He states making you laugh as you get comfortable and go back to reading one of the pregnancy books Anne gave you the last time she came over. “Oh so how was the shopping trip the other day? Didn’t see you two on the news and you never called me to bail you out of jail so that must mean it went well?” He asks with a teasing tone that makes you roll your eyes as you flip a page in your book.

“It did go well actually I got a few new books for the twin’s bookshelf.” You begin as you lower your book a bit so you can see Ethan’s face over the top of it. “We picked baby names and-”

“Excuse me?” His eyes are wide and his hands momentarily stop rubbing your ankles as he snaps his head in your direction. “You did what now?”

“We sort of agreed on two baby names. I told him the one I’ve been thinking about for a girl-”

“Nora Anne?”

“Yes and he liked it but he thought it was because of Nora Jones.”

“Well yeah you can’t expect Mr. Asshole to know who Nora Roberts is.” You glare at Ethan for a moment making him just shrug because he doesn’t get what he did wrong so you just continue on explaining the baby names.

“But then he had an idea for a boy name and it’s uhm well it’s Edward James St-”

“James? As in Ethan James your super attractive young neighbor?” He all but shouts as he stares at you with an excited grin on his face and you just nod and laugh because you knew he would react this way to finding out the middle name Harry picked unknowingly wanting to give his son just so happens to belong to the very man he can’t stand.

“Exactly.”

“Weird way to ask me to be their godfather but I accept.” He says with a shrug as he goes back to focusing on rubbing your ankles.

“Don’t get crazy Ethan no one has asked you to be anyone’s godfather.” You explain with a laugh making him let out a dramatic sigh.

“Here I am rubbing your feet and ankles and you don’t even think I’m godfather material? That’s just rude.” You playfully glare at him when he turns his head to look at you with a smile. “But really I’m glad it’s going well with him I know you’ve been through some shit with that asshole so I’m happy that he seems to be making an effort to do things that are actually nice and helpful.” You just nod as you try to focus on the page you’re reading in your book.

“Yeah it’s been-”

“I saw photos of him out with another girl last night.” You drop your book to your lap as Ethan lets out a sigh of relief, feeling ten times lighter now that he’s spilled the beans about something he wasn’t sure he was going to tell you about or not but he figures you deserve to know the whereabouts of the father of your children.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw photos of Harry out with some chick in a god awful tacky green silk dress with yellow-”

“Ethan.”

“Right sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his body a bit so he is facing you, but makes sure your feet are still comfortably resting in his lap. “He was out at some club with her and they left hand in hand and got into his car and the only reason I known it was his car is because I recognized the driver.”

“Is that all?” Ethan raises an eyebrow at your question because you’re handling this rather differently than he expected.

“Uh yeah-yeah that’s all.”

“That’s okay.” You say with a slow nod before you grab your book. “He’s single he can be seen with whoever he wants.” You explain as you turn to the page you were just on, ignoring the look of confusion on Ethan’s face and the way your heart feels like it just dropped to the pit of your stomach.

“It’s okay if it’s not okay you know that right? He’s the father of your babies and it’s perfectly normal to feel attached to him in a way that no one will ever understand.” You can’t look at Ethan as he speaks or you’ll lose it so he just gives your feet a little squeeze before he reaches over and grabs the book out of your hands. “Look at me.” He says as he tosses your book onto your coffee table, you slowly look from your hands that are resting on your bump over to his face and then finally you meet his stare.

“He told me he had plans with his mom last night. That’s why he couldn’t come over to help put up the curtains I got for the nursery but he said he’d do it the next time he’s here to make my juice.” Ethan lets out a sigh as he watches your eyes get glossy as you let him in on a piece of information that you weren’t going to share with him because it seemed unimportant until now.

“God this wouldn’t be happening if you would’ve went with Zayn for your baby daddy.” His voice is serious but you know he’s joking as he reaches for one of your hands.

“Zayn wasn’t an option.” You explain with a sniffle as you try to stop the tears from falling with a few blinks.

“That’s a shame because that man is-”

“Was she pretty?” You mumble as you look away from Ethan and down at his hand that’s got a firm hold of yours as it rests on your bump. You don’t know why you asked because you know it doesn’t matter but you can’t help but be curious.

“Fuck no. She was hideous.” He watches the corners of your mouth twitch as you fight off a smile. “You’re the hottest woman that man has ever been with. Hands down.”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t cry.”

“No I’m not.” He argues as he gives your hand a squeeze. “I’m saying it so you’ll make me the godfather.” He smiles at the sound of your laughter even if it’s a littler watery sounding it’s better than the sound of you bawling your eyes out, that’s one sound he is sick of hearing from you. “I love you. You’re going to be okay.” You let out a sigh as you give his hand a squeeze making him smile.

“Thank you. I love you too.” With that Ethan lets go of your hand so he can lean over and grab your book off the coffee table and hand it back to you. The two of you silently deciding that you’ve had your fill of gossip for the evening so he picks up his phone with one hand and scrolls his social media pages while his other lazily rubs at your ankles. While you try to focus on the words on the page of your book you can’t help but let your mind wonder to the reasons why Harry would lie to you and if you should even bring it up to him. But as you get comfortable on the couch and Ethan lets out a soft sigh you decide that you’ll just deal with Harry later and enjoy your time with one of your bestfriends, refusing to let the man with the big dumb green eyes ruin anymore of your evening.

[arkhamsbrat]

are you sick of me? would you like to be?

jason todd x reader

jason couldn’t help the constant feeling of being out of place, even with your invitations. your constant, incessant invitations. one night sleepover? come have dinner? sincerity poured out of you. warmth, goodness, everything he wasn’t, couldn’t be.

why were you so insistent on having him around? smiling at him with teeth that wouldn’t tear his skin open. he’d let you, if you asked. shred him up and leave him behind. at least he’d see you smile at him again. its all worth it.

he waits for the day you get tired of him. or bored, scared, disgusted even. one day itll happen. whether it be when he tells you about Red Hood, how he let his rage get the best of him- or when he finally breaks. when he shows you just how badly he needs you. it felt like his ribs were cracked open, with you consistently pulling his heart into your hands, squeezing tightly. he waits for the day you drop it onto the concrete, for you to watch it roll away in the grime.

you don’t. your teeth nip at his arm affectionately when it wraps around you at night. your hands tangle in his hair rather than his veins. you just keep letting him in, practically begging him to stay. gentleness is in your nature, at least with jason. it’s clear he hasn’t been treated kindly, you could tell that from day one.

you were selfish, well, in your own opinion. creating a safe space for him so he did need you. but its only because you needed him just as much. ghosts chase him from a life you hope he’s left behind while he sleeps. his arms tug you closer and you fight back that proud feeling in your chest. you press a kiss against his forehead and whisper that you’re staying, for him. no one else but him.

he’d asked you if you thought he overstepped, took up too much space. you scoffed at him, and leaned against his arm. you wanted to crack him open, wanted to crawl in and never leave the safety he provided you. the guilt would leave him, eventually, when you started demanding he add “his touch”. you wanted it to look collectively like you both lived there. not just you. you started coming home to little things. his books moved from the box under your bed, to your bookshelf. he hung his jacket by the front door

it’s unspoken when the rest of his things slowly migrate to your apartment. one drawer for him on weekends turns into half of the dresser, the closet, the bathroom. your shoe rack has his only three pairs, an extra key for the apartment found its way on the ring that hung by your front door. he didn’t need to ask- you didn’t want him to. what was yours was his. coffee, toothpaste, towels, blankets, anything. all of you.

you tug him with you when you shower, smiling at the false grumbles. his hands massage at your scalp, knowing the favor will be returned when you look back from the shower head. his fear is never gone in full, but it slows. quiets down. he gets to be selfish too now. trap you in his embrace and hide you from the world. from anyone who would ruin this for him.

the feeling of belonging seeped into him every day he came home and there was two plates on the table. when you’d come home from your snack run with two new drinks that you thought looked gross, but you wanted to try with him. when the holidays came around and there were two pairs of disgustingly ugly socks because “we needed them, jason.”

“your apartment” became “our place”. your shared safe haven that would have to be ripped from him piece by piece. you couldn’t leave him, even if you wanted to. jason had cracked you open, crawled to the depths of your heart and chained himself to it. he’d made a home he felt safe in. he’d stopped feeling panicked at the realization that you did the same. he’d take his own hands and tear his chest apart to let you in.

all you have to do is ask.

[rinffection]

♡ Sickeningly Sweet!

How blue lock boys show you how sweet they are to their girlfriend!

featuring! Isagi Yoichi, Meguru Bachira, Itoshi Rin, Seishiro Nagi & Chigiri Hyoma.

a/n : hellloooooo :3 back with some blue lock head canons, ahhhhh!!!!!! Anyways I’m writing this as I watch the shining so plz spare with me.

notes : mxf, afab!reader, sfw headcanons, NOT PROOFREAD

ISAGI YOICHI!

definitely compliments you on dates! — whether your outfit or face :3

when he sees something that reminds him of you, he buys it for you immediately!

after scoring a goal, his eyes immediately go to find yours. When he does, he gives you a big puppy smile.

adding to above, he would text you instantly after the game, asking if he did well today or if you saw that goal he shot!

late night calls after a whole day of soccer training! He actually sleeps better after hearing your voice.

he always holds your hands when you guys walk together.

sends you a bunch of lovey dovey TikTok’s, when he has time, of course.

whenever he gets jealous, it’s always in a cute way. he wouldn’t start a fight but instead he would hug you a little tighter after the guy is gone.

loves to make those cheesy couple TikTok’s with you! He actually enjoys it a lot.

MEGURU BACHIRA!

THE MOST PLAYFUL PUPPY EVER!! He will literally cuddle with you every chance he gets.

okay but his love language is just physical touch. He loves hugging or giving you kisses all over your face!

he likes drawing little doodles of you and him on his notebooks whenever he’s not paying attention in class.

likes to send you voice messages during evening’s all about his day, and loves when you send back too :3

since he’s always playing soccer by himself, he likes to drag you with him so he can teach you to play as well!

adding to above, he would pat you on the head with his golden smile whenever you do something correctly.

likes to have sleepovers with you! (mostly so he can cuddle with you when he goes to sleep)

whenever your frustrated over something, he lets you rant to him like he’s your bestie.

he will lay down with his head in your lap while he yaps to you.

doesn’t mind doing your girly stuff with him. As long as you have your pretty smile on your face, he’s happy!

ITOSHI RIN!

like a lot of people say, he doesn’t like showing PDA, but when it’s just the two of you in a room, he’ll immediately become a clingy puppy.

you might think he’s nonchalant, but he actually remembers every little thing about you! Whether it’s a habit you have or your favourite snack.

he buys you things without telling. Like if you were eyeing a necklace or a snack, he would buy it for you :3 (even if you don’t say anything)

regularly checks up with you via texts!! He’ll message you good night and good morning texts, and sometimes ask ‘did you eat?’ or ‘it’s getting late, you should go to sleep’.

he likes to keep things that remind you of him in his room — whether it’s a present, card, a trinket from the date you guys recently went or even photos of you two! He acts like he doesn’t care, but he actually does….

Rin always waits for you! after class, training, for a date or after a game, he would wait for you so you can walk with him! (He wants to make sure you’re safe when you walk home and that no guys hit on you.. lol.)

rants to you about sae and the ‘annoying’ teammates he has to deal with because he trusts you! While you guys cuddle on the couch or bed, of course.

DEFINITELY lovesssss giving you forehead kisses! He thinks it’s cute how you’re shorter than him.

cares for you. And when I mean he cares for you, I mean he would give an icy glare to whoever’s making you feel sad. (and sometimes it wouldn’t be just a glare….)

gives you his jacket or hoodie when you’re cold. It’s a quiet gesture, but he doesn’t need you shivering or catching a cold, and sometimes, he lets you keep it. It smells like him anyways!

watches your favourite shows or movies with you! He might grumble about how ‘this is so boring,’ but he actually secretly enjoys spending time with you— even if he had to watch your girly stuff with you.

SEISHIRO NAGI!

pulls you into naps with him! He loves sleeping, but he also loves you.. so why not both together?

lets you play with his hair. he probably doesn’t like it when others do it, but when it’s you, go wild.

always has your hair tie on his wrist. You don’t go a day without seeing it on his arm. (or maybe he’s just too lazy to take it off)

loses video games just for you to win. And when you ask about why he seems to be lacking, he’ll reply with ‘dunno, I guess I was distracted by you’.

lazy pecks on the lips. Sometimes it’s to shut you up while he’s gaming or sleeping— but he likes seeing you blush after anyways.

his go-to dates are definitely sleepovers, just so he can cuddle with you while watching a movie or something. (also, it’s because he’s too lazy to go out, lol.)

asks you to feed him because apparently, eating is too much of a hassle.

teaches you how to play a video game he likes — just so you can play with him!

makes you wear his hoodies, and sometimes, he even lets you ‘borrow’ it! He actually likes seeing you in his clothes, especially when it’s a bit too big for you.

shows you off. Like when someone asks him about his packed bento that you made for him, he’ll nonchalantly say ‘my girlfriend made it for me.’

CHIGIRI HYOMA!

LETS YOU BRAID HIS HAIR!!! Since he has long hair, he lets you style it however you want. (even if it ends up looking like a funny mess)

he’ll tie or braid your hair for you. Since he has long hair, he basically knows how to tie and braid hair like the back of his hand.

hear me out…. he discusses hair products with you. Sometimes even lets you share his favourite hair mask!!

buys you your favourite flowers every time you guys have a date together. It’s a way of showing how much he cares.

matching always. When you get him something matching, like a bracelet or necklace, he insists on keeping it on every day.

he’s probably the person who takes you out on the BEST dates. Like this guy lives for aesthetics. Just imagine him taking you out to watch the sunset, canoeing down a pretty river or finding amazing small cafe’s to try out with you!

soft/hard launches you on Instagram. He posts you on his story, and always takes photos of the both of you going on dates to post onto his page!

he takes the best pictures of you, lol. You don’t even need to train him into taking good photos for your Instagram, he’s just naturally good at it. Usually after he takes the pictures, he’ll compliment you and say ‘it was all because of how pretty you are’.

writes short poems or notes for you. It’s one way of showing his love— through words!

celebrates every holiday with you. Whether it’s Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or Halloween, he goes out his way to celebrate it the best with you!

after notes! : Hai again everyone.. :3 I think you can probably tell who’s my favourite in here…. lol…. But anyways, lmk if you guys want any fics on these headcanons! :p

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 059 - Lover! HSR Men x Fem! Reader: Period Cramps ♡ ˎˊ˗

꒰ Dan Heng, Aventurine, Caelus, Sunday ꒱

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is actually a veteran in taking care of girls during their periods. Why? You have March 7th to thanks for that. His poor friend's cramps are hell so he stepped up to assist whenever he can if Himeko isn' present to soothe her.

So when it comes to you? It's no problem really, he even enjoys the fact that you're relying on him for this since it shows that you trust him entirely.

Does he track your period schedule? Definitely, he has a tracker installed in his phone that he always checks. Periods are tricky and he wants to know incase anything wrong comes your way.

A little overdevoted of him, but you're not complaining. Why would you?

He has everything prepared a week advanced before your period.

Heating pads? Check. Extra napkins? Check. Snacks? Check. Chocolates? Check. Medicine for cramps? Check. Plushies? Washed and ready.

"Is your stomach acting up? No?" Dan Heng asks as he secures the blanket over you after placing a heating pad on your belly.

"I hate being a girl..." You complain, curling up further beside him for comfort.

"I know, but just for a few more days, it'll be alright" He says, stroking your head lovingly. "How about a movie? There are a bunch of new movies I managed to download."

"Okay..."

You actually passed out halfways into the movie, which Dan heng of course predicted already since he had the lights in his room already turned off. He changed the heating pad on your stomach first before tucking himself back in.

"Goodnight," Dan heng mumbles, placing a peck on your forehead before pulling you in for a cuddle.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"There we go" Aventurine gently settles you down on the bed after placing an extra towel on it. "Is that better, love?"

You nod, cuddling the teddy bear he bought you just because you're on your monthly hell.

Your period week is strictly a no-gambling and no-business-trips time for Aventurine. Even if his bosses and the other stonehearts decide to bug him into doing stuff.

He values your happiness and comfort above all else, even work. So to hell with them if the ipc blows up out of nowhere during your menstruation. Aventurine will just throw a middle finger at them and laugh at their misery.

Aventurine was so dedicated he spent hours reading books about periods and even goes so far to research good napkin brands that wont make you itch.

He wants nothing more than the highest of qualities for his beloved who is going through a lot just because a woman's body decided to evolve suffering like this. he even has some doctors on stand by just incase anything goes wrong.

Of course, we can't forget his philanthropic side— this peacock man needs to spend his money on you even for the littlest things. You'll be having brand new jewelry, cosmetics and perfumes coming in rapid succession for you as well as a barrage of kisses to go along with it.

"My poor princess, are you sure you don't need anything else?" He asks, kissing each and every one of your fingers. "Should I order some shortcakes for you? Or should I call the doctor to check on you?"

"Vasha... I'm not bedridden..." You say.

"I know, but I would rather not risk anything happening bad, so if anything hurts too much you must tell me" Aventurine simply smiles.

"Your kisses are more than enough"

"Who am I to say no to that?"

And with that, he dives in to pepper your precious and pretty face with pecks.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Okay, everything is settled" Caelus nods to himself after making a makeshift pillow fort in his bed for you to snuggle in.

The plushies he had ordered just arrived in time with your menstrual cycle. He made sure to ask March 7th about this just to be sure too. He can't screw this up—

Yeah, he's acting like he's about to go through something major or something. What an idiot.

Your lovable idiot atleast.

"Cae? I'm back" You say, walking out of the bathroom after changing your napkin. "???"

"Ah... Well" Your boyfriend sheepishly scrtaches the back of his head as you glance at the makeshift fort he managed to make during your time in the bathroom. "I figured I should make a fort so we could snuggle up more?... I don't know"

"You're cute" You laugh, kissing his cheek before crawling into the fort he made. "I like the fort, maybe you should keep it"

"I'll order more pillows and a canopy for my bed then" He grins before going in after you. "I'm not really good at taking care of you, my bad"

"It's fine, just you being with me is more than enough and I'd much rather cuddle with you" You wrap your arms affectionately around his waist. "Just be you as usual, that's more than enough."

"I should be the one comforting you" Caelus pouts, rubbing your cheeks together just so he can elicit a sweet giggle from your lips. "If there is is anything I can do, please just tell me what you need and I'll do my best"

"You're really like a puppy" You muse, kissing his cheek lovingly.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Just like Dan Heng, Sunday is a veteran at this. His mother died before his sister had her very first menstrual cycle. And although there were servants around to assist— he still took the initiative to help Robin himself because he was her brother.

The result of that? He's absolutely good at taking care of you during your period. Much like Dan Heng, he has a period tracker on his phone and prepares everything in advance the week before your period starts.

But of course, Sunday actually memorized your cycle dates, he just prefers to be more organized and to fouble(triple) check everything

It's much more important for him to be assured that eveything is ready.

"Not like that, you'll make your stomach hurt even more, dear" Sunday says, putting down the book he was reading and reaches out to rub firm but gentle circles around your tummy. "I know it's different for each woman, but this is the method I used on my sister when her cramps are bad. Is that better?"

"Yes..." You nod weakly, melting into his massages quickly. "You're really good at this"

"it's only because I took care of my baby sister a lot" Sunday replies, keeping his gentle pace to help ease your pain.

"Robin must miss you" You mumble.

"It's alright" He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I miss her too, but one day we will reunite. But right now you're the main character. You need me since your cramps as especially bad during the first few days of your cycle."

"What did I even do to deserve you?" You whisper, slowly drifting off to sleep the further he massaged you.

Sunday wouldn't reply until you finally gave in to the call of sleep.

"I need you more than you need me" He finally says, replying to your unconcious state while pressing his lips on your forehead. "So let me do this, it's the least I can do since you never gave up on me"

꒰ 🪼 A/N: This one is a bad fic but I'm really deep in writer's block. I'll try to get it in my next one. For now please be patient with me qwq. I hope you guys understand huhu. I'll try to make more comprehensive and better fics:3 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

r you still open for requests? if so and if you havent done this, stan twins taking care of reader on their period? im on my period rn and i lowkey am craving for it,, /nf!!

❥ Stan & Ford taking care of you on your period headcanons <3

a/n: oh anon this one's for you and for everyone dealing with the struggle right now <333 may ur cramps be mild 🙏

STANLEY

★ “what do you mean you feel like garbage?? you were fine an hour ago! what happened?? who do I have to fight??” and when you explain, he just. OH. THAT.

★ “okay, okay, don’t freak out, but,” he digs around in some closet and pulls out a very old hot water bottle. “this thing got me through some rough winters. i hope this will, uh. . . stop the angry uterus thing.”

★ if anyone (Soos, Dipper, some poor clueless tourist) makes a dumb joke about “mood swings,” Stan will protect you. “oh, you think that’s funny? let’s see how funny it is when I lock you in the Mystery Shack bathroom for a week with no toilet paper!”

★ will not let you lift a finger. so worried about your state he physically shoves you back down if you try to do anything. “nope. nope, nuh-uh, baby, don’t even think about it.”

★ if you're dying from pain and nothing helps, he just holds you close while dramatically saying “oh sweetheart, if only nature was FAIR, it’d be me bleeding instead! why this world is so unfair????”

★ of course he buys you snacks. SO MANY SNACKS. he heard somewhere that chocolate helps, so now he’s bought four different brands of cheap chocolate bars from the gas station

“uh, i got these. one of ‘em’s gotta be the magic one, right?”

★ “old man Mcgucket says bark tea fixes everything. should we. . . should we try bark tea?”

★ once Stanley pulled out a beer and immediately regretted it. “. . . wait, no, that’s for me.”

★ ofc he cooks for you. he’s a big believer that food fixes all things, even if he doesn’t understand the science of it. makes you the heartiest, greasiest, most filling meal he can. you might not even want it but it’s the intent. it's the love. (and if you actually ask for something? he’ll make it with no hesitation)

★ you look even slightly like you’re in pain?? immediate concern. hunched over? “alright, that’s it, you’re going on the couch.” he literally herds you over with his hands on your shoulders, forces you to get comfortable. “c'mon, c'mon, up ya go. feet up. blanket on. there ya go.”

★ lovingly teases you when you cry over dumb stuff, but only a little. “you're cryin’ over a commercial? sweetie, c’mon.” wipes your tears anyway. kisses your forehead after.

★ grocery store trip. Stanley standing in the feminine hygiene aisle, he calls you from the store like, “baby, what the hell is ultra-thin? why are there WINGS on these? you gonna fly away or somethin’? :(”

★ i have a feeling he'll get the wrong ones. Stan comes home proud of himself only for you to be like Stan these are panty liners. he’s FLABBERGASTED. “they were in the same aisle!! they had the same stupid pink packaging!!”

★ eventually, he settles into his caretaking mode, ruffles your hair, makes bad jokes to make you laugh even when you feel awful. if you get emotional from the hormones he panics a little but ultimately just lets you cry on his shoulder and pats your back

★ mutters “alright, where’s it hurt, lemme at it.” then massages your lower back, rubs your stomach clumsily but gently. Stan is determined to physically get rid of your pain somehow even if that’s not how it works

★ makes you rest by putting on a movie and forcing you to stay put. he picks the weirdest mix of old action flicks, crime shows and one sappy romance he swears he doesn’t like. (he totally does.)

★ if you’re in pain he's gonna fix it. but since he can’t punch your uterus, he does the next best thing. distracts the hell outta you. "alright, sweetheart, what’s it gonna be? poker? tall tales? let's watch duck detective?”

you giggle. “Stan, just cuddle me.”

“oh, yeah, you got it, c’mere.” immediately pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his big arms around you, rocking his most precious thing in the world.

★ if you're up at 2 AM, restless from cramps, Stan notices immediately “owwh, doll, let’s getcha comfy.” guides you to the couch, sets you up with a blanket, turns on some quiet late-night TV. he stays up with you, spending sleepless night taking care of you. he sits there, rubbing your back, making sure you’re okay

in some hours more though, he falls asleep next to you, head leaning against yours

STANFORD

★ HE KNOWS BEFORE YOU DO. this man has studied interdimensional quantum phenomena. you think he hasn’t mapped out your cycle like a scientist mapping the tides???? PLEASE

“sweetheart, shouldn’t you be starting your period soon?”

“what? no?? I feel fine“ and twenty minutes later, you’re in pain

“ah. as I suspected.” Ford says

★ literally tracks it like a researcher. has a whole-ass journal with little notes. estimates symptoms, cravings, moods. he says it's because “I want to be prepared for you”.

you catch him writing in it one day. “Ford, what is that?”

he looks guilty and awkward. “a. . . documentation of your menstrual cycle?”

you take it, open it and your eyes widen. it got a whole-ass formula for predicting your moods

“wtf Ford, you made a menstrual algorithm??”

he rubs the back of his neck. “well, i wanted to ensure that i could be fully prepared for any and all symptoms—“

you’re just staring at the notes, not even listening to him. “did you seriously track that I crave sour candy more than chocolate???”

Ford pushes up his glasses. “i prefer to call it an empirical observation, yes.” next thing you do is kiss him senseless, because this nerd is the most devoted man on the planet

★ i assure you, he's already stocked up. you go to grab something and oh . . . heating pad? already plugged in. pain meds? already out on the counter. ur favorite snacks? somehow already bought. tea? brewing

★ of course! of course you'll get his lectures about periods. “did you know that menstrual cramps are caused by the uterus contracting due to prostaglandins? i read a fascinating study on ways to mitigate the pain—“ but let me tell you, he’s rambling because he’s nervous about you hurting. also because he thinks knowledge = comfort

★ his gentle hands, always. adjusting your blanket. rubbing slow circles into your back. fingertips ghosting over your forehead to check if you’re feverish

★ absolutely 100%, without a doubt, Ford takes notes on what helps you. if you ever say something like “ugh, this tea actually helps a lot” he writes that down. if you offhandedly mention “i think dark chocolate makes it better” he’s buying you ten bars of it next time.

★ he tries to keep you distracted. puts on old sci-fi movies and nerds out over them. reads aloud from a book if you want because he knows you love his voice

“did I ever tell you about the time I discovered a species that only reproduces once every ten years?” he just TALKS to you. calmly. thoughtfully. lets his voice carry you away from the pain.

★ he will stay up with you if you can’t sleep. even if he’s exhausted, even if he has research to do. if you’re in pain, he’s right there. “sleep, darling. I’ll stay up for a while. you need to rest.” strokes your hair until you do and presses a kiss to your temple when you finally drift off.

★ Ford can’t stand inefficiency. the first time he hears you complain about normal period products, he rubbed his chin, thinking. you’re uncomfortable??? with a problem that science could potentially solve???

“hmph. there must be a better way.” he disappears into his lab for hours.

★ what he makes depends on what you complain about! hate pads? “ah. they’re inefficient, bulky and uncomfortable. yes, darling, I see the flaws.”

hate tampons? “too absorbent, prone to leaking at unpredictable rates. . . fascinating, but flawed.”

cramps?? “prostaglandin-induced muscle contractions. I can work with this!”

no problem is too small. he listens to every complaint

★ “i will revolutionise menstruation, darling!” you're so proud of him. Ford is proud of himself too

★ normally, he treats you like his equal, his partner, his greatest love. but when you’re sick ohh he secretly loves having an excuse to baby you. he brings you tea and tests the temperature on his wrist before handing it over. he fluffs your pillows, tucks you in way too snug. if you groan in pain, he’s immediately alert. “what is it? what do you need? tell me, dearest, I’ll get it.”

i can't believe i wrote an entire fic from Ford's pov journaling reader's cycle, im going insane

[ravens-bird]

Yours to Keep - Sylus.

Pairing: Sylus x F!Reader.

Tags: Boyfriend Sylus, fluff, smut, kissing, fingering. this was supposed to be like soft sex (and it is) but I almost got carried away. Blame the man not me. Not Beta'd we die like Caleb. MDNI‼️

Nicknames used: Sweetie, Kitten, Sweetheart.

Note: Based on the prompt "Making love, except it’s on the bedroom floor" (link)

wc: 3.6k.

Sylus had long since stopped being surprised by your tendency to do random things on a whim. By now, he knew better than anyone to not question the little things that you did just because they felt right.

Like when you decide that having a whole block of cheese as a midnight snack was completely normal, or when you apply random products and make questionable concoctions in the name of skincare and then drag him into it while calling it a ‘spa day’.  

Sure, watching you Do Your Thing was quite amusing to him, but sometimes he wished he could take a look inside your head and Understand.

Case in point, he wasn’t sure why you were sprawled out on the plush carpet beside the bed, akin to a cat that curled up and napped anywhere it deemed a worthy spot. His red eyes flicker with quiet amusement as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching you.

“You do know we have a bed and a desk in this room right, Sweetie?”

You don’t bother looking up, shrugging in response as you spread out your haul from the gift shop — a thick leather-bound scrapbook, three different types of decorative tape, a set of colourful markers — and Sylus stopped counting.

His eyes furrow. “What are you doing?”

You finally glance up at him, blinking at him as if he was being silly. “Scrapbooking? Duh.”

His lips twitch at the corners, though the sigh he lets out is equal parts amused and exasperated.

“I can see that,” his tone is dry. He straightens up, pushing off the doorframe as he saunters towards you, a little curious. When you pat the space next to you, urging him to join you, he doesn’t hesitate.

He lowers himself onto the floor beside you, stretching his long legs out in front of him as he leans his back against the bedframe, taking in the mess— ahem, the arrangement of art supplies. The carpet is warm, and the faint evening light streaming in through the window paints the room a warm gold.

You scoot closer to him, nudging the scrapbook towards him. “Wanna help?”

He hums in thought, reaching for one of the photos from the pile you'd set aside — probably to include in the scrapbook, he assumed.

It was from one of your first public dates together, taken at Café Destiny — with you striking a peace sign, half out of the frame, while the camera had caught him mid-sip, eyes on you instead of his drink.

He smiles, picking up another one.

This one was from the new year celebration, taken by the twins — you were beaming, while Mephisto perched on your hand, with a tiny white ruff around his neck — an imitation of the Grumpy Crow plushie, looking thoroughly affronted and a touch betrayed, with his head turned towards Sylus who was standing out of frame.

Sylus hummed in amusement, flipping through a few more photos. His sharp eyes softened as he took in the little snapshots of your time together — laughing over coffee, wandering through night markets, you dozing off on his shoulder in the back of a car after an auction. Most were candids.

He briefly ponders how much you might have bribed Luke and Keiran for these.

“You’re really into this, huh?” His voice is softer now, more curious than teasing.

You smile, turning back to the task at hand. “Of course. It’s our memories.”

There’s a warmth spreading through him that he doesn’t quite know how to react to. So instead of trying, he just picks up the Polaroid camera beside him, aims it at you, and snaps a picture.

The flash makes you startle. “Hey!”

His crimson eyes gleam with mirth as he shakes the developing photo in front of you like one would dangle a feather-toy in front of a curious cat.

Once it clears, he holds it up for the both of you to see. For a quick picture, it had come out rather well, but it looked a little silly - because he had snapped it right as you closed your eyes.

Your pout lasts all of three seconds before you’re giggling, reaching for the camera yourself. Sylus doesn’t resist when you take it from him, instead hooking an arm around your middle and pulling you to him.

You squeak at the sudden movement, instinctively grabbing onto his arms as he settles you into his lap with ease, resting his chin on your shoulder as he keeps a lazy hold on your waist. Trying to ignore the way your heart flutters, you lift the camera, angling it so both of you fit in the frame. “Alright, smile.”

Sylus huffs but obliges, a half-smile tugging at his lips.

You press the button, the camera clicks, and as the photo develops, you glance down at it with satisfaction.

“See?” you say, turning the picture toward him. “We look cute.”

You glance up at him, still in his arms, expecting him to study the image but instead he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small, surprised noise before melting into it, reaching up to touch his cheek softly.

When he pulls back, your smile is dazzling.

Sylus has always wondered how it would feel like for his heart to race — either out of fear or excitement. Lately, he’s been experiencing it often, thanks to you — though, oddly enough, it seemed to be due to a secret third thing.

Which was not much of a secret, anyway.

Everyone around him — at least, those he considered relevant — knew he was smitten with you. But still. His chest feels full.

So full that, when you giggle again, he doesn’t think — just shifts the scrapbook and the photos aside, guiding you gently down onto the carpet with him as the camera slides out of your grip, falling into the carpet with a muffled thud.

You let out a small gasp, eyes wide, as he flops you down, one arm bracing the back of your head as he mindlessly shoves the camera aside.

His name barely leaves your mouth before he’s pressing his lips to yours, fingers grazing your waist with his free hand. He kisses you slowly, deeply, and you lose yourself in his kiss, his touch, the scent and feel of him, that you forget entirely about what you were doing.

He pulls back a little and your breath is shaky as he nips at your bottom lip, before he swipes his tongue over it, soothing the sting. His hand slides up, cradling your jaw with a tenderness that makes your heart stutter. His thumb traces just below your eye, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing the shape of you.

His face is so unguarded, so open, that words fail you.

Sylus despised vulnerability.

The mere thought of giving someone that kind of power over him had always been unbearable. Not that it was a common occurrence or anything — but with you, it was different. You made it feel less like a weakness and more like something he could surrender to — something safe.

He may not always find the right words to tell you how he feels, but in moments like this, his touch speaks for him.

Desire sings in his veins as you tug lightly on his collar, kissing him again. When his tongue teases the seam of your lips again, you open your mouth, and the noise of satisfaction that escapes your lips has his ego soaring.

He was determined to drag out more such sounds from you.

He goes easily when you flip him over, relaxing under you as you straddle his waist, feeling the press of his hardening erection against your heat. He watches you with a quiet intensity as you settle yourself over him, taking the lead, and his sharp intake of breath when you roll your hips gives you immense satisfaction.

His hands trail up your thighs to rest on your hips. “I’d rather take the initiative,” he speaks, red eyes sparking. “But I must admit. It is quite nice seeing you on top like this sometimes, kitten.”

You roll your eyes playfully, tipping forward to kiss again. He sighs against your lips, squeezing your side in response, before his fingers begin fidgeting with the material of your shirt.

You splay your palm against his chest, right above his heart, while resting the other on his shoulder, letting him hold you up and his hand sneaks beneath your clothes, caressing the skin underneath. 

Before long, he starts moving his hips too, jerking upward to grind against you and you gasp into his mouth, and his responding groan sends a spark of desire straight down to your cunt, and suddenly, there’s just too many layers of clothing separating the two of you.

Sylus seems to be thinking the same, because when he tugs at the hem of your shirt, you pull back, pulling it off immediately so that the only thing covering your upper half is your bra. When you reach for the buttons of his shirt immediately, he chuckles lightly.

“You’re rather impatient today, Sweetie.” 

You ignore his comment, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing them off his shoulders, and the amusement vanishes from his eyes when you run your hands down his front, all the way down to the waistband of his pants. 

He sits up then, pulling you into him as he presses hot, wet kisses against your lips, your cheek, your jaw, and your neck, trailing down to the swell of your chest before he unclasps your bra in one quick movement, baring your breasts.

You feel a wave of heat wash over you, tinging your cheeks red — not in embarrassment, but because of the way he looks at you. His eyes rake over you slowly, and the quirk of his mouth tells you that he's enjoying it immensely.

That, and the way his cock hardens further underneath you.

His voice is a quiet rumble as he cups one breast and gives it a little squeeze, “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Sylus—” His name is barely out of your mouth before he rolls a pert nipple between his fingers, and you whine. “Stop teasing.”

He chuckles again, “Your wish is my command, kitten.”

And when he takes your other breast in his mouth, his wet, hot tongue pressing against your nipple, your nails dig into the smooth, pale skin of his shoulder. His shirt was shoved off one shoulder, resting at the crook of his elbow and the sight of him like this, with his mouth on your chest, a faint blush on his face, is truly one to behold.

Your fingers get lost in the strands of his hair, tugging at them as he worries the sensitive flesh with his teeth, when his right hand trails down to the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips readily when he tugs, and he pulls back to slide your shorts off you with ease.

“So eager,” he murmurs teasingly, as if he wasn't the one who started all of this. You don’t get to retort, because his hand is on you again, rubbing you against the fabric of your damp panties.

Sylus's fingers ghost over the material, teasing the sensitive skin beneath, before applying just the right amount of pressure that sends a surge of warmth pooling low in your belly, and your breath catches in a soft whimper as he finally pushes your underwear aside, dragging his fingers up to circle over your clit.

When you buck your hips against his hand instinctively, craving more friction, impatient and a little desperate for him to just touch you properly, god damn it all, he gathers some slickness in his fingers, slowly pressing into you.

A delicious mix of relief and tension flooding over you.

He thrusts his fingers in and out slowly at first, and you moan at the sensation, clenching around him. when he curls his fingers ever so slightly, and finds that one spot that has you crying out and grinding into his hand, he picks up his pace. Soon, you start to feel the waves of pleasure heighten, and you wrap both arms around him, holding on.

When Sylus gently presses the pad of his thumb against your clit, keeping his pace steady as he breathes against your mouth, you could do little except cling to him, and you come hard, drenching his hand, lap and your panties as well as your thighs.

He flips you over gently, letting you rest on the carpet on your back and you immediately try to stop him. 

“We’re going to ruin the carpet—!”

“I don’t care about the carpet, Sweetie.” He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, pushing you back down gently. “Not when I'm on top of you.” 

He pulls your panties off easily, and you help him take his shirt off, running your hands down the swell of his muscles appreciatively, and gasp in pleasure when he presses his clothed erection against your core.

You reach down, palming him through the material of his pants, as he kisses you again, and with great patience, he kneads the softness of your body, running his hands up and down teasingly yet carefully, as if he was trying to etch the memory into his mind.

“Sylus, please.” You whimper, empty and needy, already starting to feel aroused again, and he caves, letting you unzip his pants and take them off along with his underwear. 

He reaches for the nightstand and takes a condom out. You bite down on your lip in anticipation as you watch him roll it onto his fully erect cock. Despite the number of times you’ve done it before, the Moment Before was always a little intimidating. 

He lines himself up at your entrance, breath quickening as he looks down at you, gaze soft yet burning with anticipation.

"Are you ready, Sweetie?" His voice is low, laced with desire and affection.

You nod, heart racing as he presses a gentle kiss to your brow as he begins to slide inside. Your breath hitches as he sinks deeper, burying himself to the hilt.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust.

You nod quickly, urging him to move. "Mmm, you feel so good."

"You're so tight," he breathes against your lips as he kisses you sloppily.

When he starts to move, your toes curl with the sensation and you wrap your legs around his waist. His breath shudders as he picks up the pace, and the wet squelching sounds of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt, paired with the sounds escaping you both, adds a layer of lewdness to the whole ordeal.

“Shit, you feel so good, Kitten,” Sylus’s praise unleashes a swarm of butterflies in your tummy, and you grip his shoulders harder, your head falling back. 

Just as you feel your climax start to build, Sylus slows down, making you whine but he merely hushes, uncurling your legs from around him and shifts.

“Patience, sweetheart.” Despite the commanding tone of his voice, his eyes and touch are gentle. But what you wanted was not gentle. Not right now. 

However, your protests are once again thwarted as he lifts your right leg up, pulling you closer by the hips, still inside you. 

You’re about to ask him what the hell was he trying to do — though you have an inkling as to what it is, when he slinging your leg over his shoulder and moves again, thrusting inside you. Deep. 

Your garbled moan gets a devious smirk in response, as he tilts his hips just enough, angling himself to hit your G-spot, his cheeks splotched red to match his eyes. Strands of light hair stick to his forehead, while beads of sweat dot his brow and temple. 

There are four red half-moons on each shoulder, from when your nails dug into him, and the half faded hickeys on his collarbone begs for attention.

He looks so sexy like this.

Your breath stutters as you catch his eyes, and the way he’s looking at you — the intensity of it, makes you wonder what you must look like to him. Naked and flushed, panting as your breasts bounced with the momentum of his thrusts, the sight of him moving in and out of your wet cunt… 

“Lost in your head again, Kitten?” The huskiness of his voice carries a hint of warning in it — something dangerous. “When I’m still inside you?” 

You quickly shake your head, but he’s unconvinced as his pace slows down yet again. 

“Sylus—” You gasp as he presses his thumb against your pussy again, rubbing your clit with just enough pressure for you to whimper. You try again. “Please.”

Sylus chuckles, low and dark, the sound vibrating against your skin. He watches you with sharp eyes, drinking in every little reaction as he drags his thumb in slow, torturous circles.

“Please, what?” His voice is a whisper of sin, teasing, coaxing. His hips barely move now, keeping you right on the edge, just out of reach.

You squirm beneath him, fingers digging into his arms, nails biting into his skin in frustration. He loves that—loves how desperate you get for him. But he’s not done playing.

“You get lost in that pretty head of yours so often,” he murmurs against the side of your calf, pressing a lingering kiss to the bend of your knee. “Maybe I should fuck you hard enough to remind you exactly where you are.”

His crass words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation crackling through your veins. Your breath catches when he pulls out nearly all the way—only to slam back in with a force that steals what little air you had left.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growls as he turns his head to bite your leg slung over his shoulder, leaving an imprint on the skin, setting a brutal rhythm that has your body arching off the carpet, your moans spilling freely now. His fingers don’t stop either, overstimulating you and pushing you closer and closer to the ledge.

And this time, there’s no room for wandering thoughts—only him, only this.

Not that your thoughts ever strayed far from him to begin with.

But now, your mind is blissfully blank, lost in the waves of pleasure as your body tenses and trembles beneath him.

Your release crashes over you just as he continues his pace, dragging out every sensation, every spark, until he follows soon after — burying himself deep inside you with a low, shuddering groan as he too chases his high.

You sigh a little as he pulls out, feeling the sudden emptiness in you as he rolls off of you, laying next to you, breathing a little heavily. You both lay there for a moment, with you being drowsy after coming twice. 

You’re only half aware when he gets up to dispose of the used condom, and don’t protest much as he scoops you into his arms, holding you to his sweaty torso. 

He breathes you in, his lips ghosting over your ear as he whispers softly, "I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you."

And in the silence that follows, you feel your heart swell. The words come out before you can rethink them, breathless and full of warmth. "I’m all yours to keep."

Which is true. You don't think anyone else could quite make you feel the way he does, and anything else couldn't compare.

So when you smile, holding onto him like he’s your whole world, he finally understands why people compare love to the sun, the moon, and stars.

Because here, right now, having you in his arms—he has them all.

“Have you caught your breath yet, Sweetie?” His fingers rub lazy circles on your back as you nuzzle into his side. You hum sleepily in response. 

Then he chuckles, voice dark with intent. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Your eyes snap open. “Sylus, are you serious?”

He tilts his head, amused. “What? You look so pretty all wrecked like that. How could I resist?”

“No way! First, you interrupt my scrapbooking, and now you want to continue?” You scoff. 

“That’s not a no,” he drawls in response, before sneaking his hand down and giving your ass a quick, teasing squeeze. You yelp, swatting at him as he grins against your temple. 

“It is,” you wag a finger in front of his face playfully. “Let’s just clean up and get dinner already!”

Sylus sighs, clearly reluctant to let the... session end, but after a moment, he gives in. “Fine, fine.” He pushes himself up, then effortlessly scoops you into his arms, making you squeak, before he carries you to the attached bathroom. 

But as the warm water starts to stream down your bodies, his hands find your hips, his lips find your neck, and well…

Who’s to say that you both will only shower, though?

The night is still young.

Note: found the Praying Mantis position quite hot, despite its name being very... yeah. I think it's Sylus for me (get it??? 🤣)

Masterlist.

[darkintothedawn]

DATING WOULD INCLUDE... || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Some headcanons I have for dating Stiles!

Memo— This is probably kind of ooc because I'm so overdue for a Teen Wolf rewatch but I think these fit well!

Word Count — 543

Stiles is the type to send you a million texts throughout the day—some sweet, some completely unhinged. One minute, it’s “Thinking about how cute you looked this morning” and the next, “If I turned into a dog but still had my head, would you still love me?”

He constantly finds ways to make you laugh, whether it’s dramatically re-enacting entire movie scenes, putting on ridiculous accents, or just making weird faces at you from across the room.

Despite all his chaos, he’s actually incredibly attentive. He notices when your mood shifts, when you’re overwhelmed, and when you just need a moment of quiet.

If you’re having a bad day, he shows up with your favourite snacks, a hoodie that smells like him, and a marathon of your comfort show queued up—no questions asked.

He definitely overthinks things sometimes, but it just means he puts extra effort into making you feel special. You offhandedly mention liking a certain kind of drink? Now your pantry is stocked with every flavour from that brand.

Stiles is obsessed with holding your hand. Walking? Holding hands. Sitting on the couch? Your fingers are laced together. Driving? One hand on the wheel, the other squeezing yours.

He makes up the most ridiculous pet names for you, and the worst part is they change daily. One day it’s “Sugar Muffin Supreme,” the next it’s “Detective Snuggle Pants.” You never know what’s coming next.

He will 100% go out of his way to find the weirdest, most specific memes that he knows will make you laugh and send them at random times—especially if he knows you’re busy and trying to be serious.

He’s your biggest hype man. Whether it’s a new outfit, a school achievement, or something as small as getting out of bed on a tough day, he’s right there cheering you on like you just won an Olympic medal.

Loves teasing you but gets so soft the second you give him a look. His sarcasm might be legendary, but the second you pout, he’s pulling you into his arms and muttering apologies against your hair.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll tell you the most nonsensical, rambling stories until you eventually pass out. Half of them involve conspiracy theories or supernatural creatures, but his voice is so soothing that it doesn’t even matter.

Absolutely insists on dramatic forehead kisses. Any excuse to lean in close, pause for dramatic effect, and press a slow, lingering kiss to your skin like he’s in a romance movie.

Stiles is a huge cuddler. He’ll dramatically sigh and drape himself over you like a human blanket, whining if you try to move away. Whether it’s spooning, you lying on his chest while he traces patterns on your back, or tangled limbs on the couch while watching TV, he always has to be touching you in some way. If you get up in the middle of the night, he groggily mumbles “Nooo, stay,” and tries to pull you back into bed. He doesn’t even care if he’s boiling hot—he will suffer in the name of cuddles.

Stiles loves you with his whole heart, and he’s not subtle about it. He's loud, ridiculous, and a little chaotic—but also warm, unwavering, and completely, hopelessly devoted to you.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

daddy hurt / comfort (nameless, but written with chan in mind)

cw: daddy / princess dynamics, reader being babied, sweet talk, pet names, crying

if this content isn’t for you, pls skip. remember to be kind. ♡

“princess needs a big hug, huh?”

you nodded, looking up at him with watery eyes and tear stained cheeks. it broke his heart.

he repositioned himself on the couch so there was room for you to sit on his lap. he opened his arms wide. “come here baby. come to daddy.”

and with a sniffle you sat on his lap, your side against his front, head in the crook of his neck. he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a big squeeze.

“how’s that baby?” he asked. “feel daddy’s arms around you? hmm?”

you nodded, gripping his shirt in your fist, trying to get closer to him but it was impossible.

“daddy will never let anything happen to his little princess.” he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “i am always here to protect you.” he brought one hand up to cradle your head, petting your hair gently. “baby, do you want to tell daddy why you’re crying?”

you sniffled and shook your head back and forth.

“no? well that’s okay, baby. you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. i’ll just stay here and hold you and rock you, okay? and then maybe in a little while you can tell me what’s got you so worked up. yeah?”

you did your best to nod, a fresh wave of tears washing over you at his sweet words. you felt so safe in his arms. so loved and cherished. like nothing bad could ever touch you. like all the bad thoughts would just melt away under his touch.

“my sweet girl..” he cooed, kissing the top of your head and continuing to sway both your bodies back and forth. “my brave, sensitive, big hearted girl..”

kiss kiss kiss

you sniffled. your nose completely plugged up and making an awful noise.

“shh baby. don’t cry. i’ve got you, okay?” he reached over to the table next to the couch and grabbed you a tissue. “daddy’s got you.” he held the tissue up to your nose. “big blow.” he said. and you did. letting him help you blow your nose. letting him take care of you. letting all the burden fall away. so there wasn’t anything left but him.

“can i have a kiss, baby?” he asked. “i bet some daddy kisses would chase the sadness away.”

you looked up at him, his eyes were soft and concerned.

“i’ve always said daddy’s kisses have healing powers.” he said. “let’s see..” he leaned in and kissed you softly. a feather light touch of his lips against yours. and then again. and again. and then a kiss to each cheek, the tip of your runny nose, your forehead.

“there we go baby. how’s that?”

you nodded. still feeling nonverbal. and he didn’t push you.

“a little bit better?” you nodded again, your tears had stopped, your heart feeling lighter. “good..” he wiped at your cheeks, swiped his thumb under your nose. “have you eaten anything baby?” he asked. “had any water?”

you shook your head no. looking down at his shirt, knowing he would be disappointed.

“that’s okay baby. i know it’s hard sometimes.” he squeezed you. “why don’t we go get some snacks together? hmm?”

“just a li-little longer..” you said, nuzzling back into his neck, gripping his shirt tight.

“okay princess.” he said, caging you in with his arms again. “just another minute and then we will go. gotta get some food in your little tummy.” he kissed your head again. humming a loving sound against your hair.

you closed your eyes and breathed in his scent, feeling calm, feeling better. he always knew how to make you feel better.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[bomber-grl]

Kusuo Saiki Dating Headcanons

Pairing(s): Kusuo Saiki x Gn!Reader

It takes a really long time to get to the point where the two of you are dating. Like 100,000,000 words, slow burn, they finally kiss at the end– sort of fanfic. Honestly, I think Saiki’s a bit hesitant about relationships in general because they seem like a hassle. Everyone else is on thin ice already, the thought of putting effort into a relationship is exhausting enough.

Like with everyone else, he’s pretty indifferent toward you at first, and you only move up to "mild annoyance" status if you stick around long enough. Especially since he’s probably hearing all your thoughts, so there’s that.

Now, onto the actual headcanons. Saiki isn’t exactly the affectionate type. You two probably started as friends, mostly with you bothering him. Even after he realizes he likes you (though he really tries to hide it), nothing changes much. The difference is, you’re the only person he seems to tolerate. Everyone else wonders why you even bother with him.

Sometimes, Saiki gets... freaked out? There’s really no other way to put it. He’s used to being around people who are idiots, so when someone like you comes along—someone who’s rather perceptive—that’s a bit much for him. It messes with his head. Despite being able to hear your every thought, he starts wondering if you’re psychic too.

You can tell what he’s feeling, what he wants, and even do things for him. Sure, he could do all those things tenfold in just under a minute, but for some reason, he finds himself smiling. He even starts thinking fondly of you.

If you were another Nendou, though? He’d probably avoid you, and your relationship would be a slow burn that takes another 100,000,000 words and even worse edging (Not like that). But I digress. Saiki shows affection in subtle ways. Like remembering offhand comments you’ve made about your favorite snack or color.

He’s the type of guy who’ll subtly push your chair out of the way when you’re about to trip or pick up a dropped pen without you asking. He might not say much, but he’ll do whatever he can to make your life a little easier, even if he doesn’t directly tell you that.

I know it might sound like I’m painting him as a deadbeat bf, but honestly? He’d probably be a great boyfriend. He can literally hear your thoughts. He knows what you want, even before you say it. He’s seen (and heard) men ruin their relationships because they thought they knew their partner. So, when you want to grab a treat or have been wanting something that relates to an interest, he’ll know.

He’ll also know (and hear) if you slightly even think he’s good looking on a particular day. He’ll never admit it, of course, but if you get embarrassed thinking about it (since you know he can hear your thoughts), he secretly enjoys that. Seeing you flustered is one of his guilty pleasures—even though he’d never show it.

And yeah, Saiki’s protective. He won’t say it, and he won’t make a big show of it like other people would, but he does care. If something’s bothering you, he’ll subtly step in. Like if someone’s making you uncomfortable, he’ll use his telekinesis to, throw something at them or trip them up—whatever works, as long as no one knows it was him.

He doesn’t like people messing with you, and he won’t hesitate to shut them down, even if he keeps it minimal to avoid drawing attention to himself.

In this following scenario you're another Nendou. He hardly ever gets surprised. I mean, hearing everyone’s thoughts kind of ruins surprises, spoilers for a new tv show, honestly anything for him. But maybe—just maybe—the only way to startle or fluster him is by turning the tables on that. Maybe it’s the first time you show affection in your relationship.

Saiki’s not big on physical touch– we all know that much. If you want to hug him, go ahead, but he’ll probably just stand there like a statue. So, let’s say you somehow convince him to come over to your place, and then you, attempted subtly, suggest that you kiss him out of nowhere.

He’d choke on his drink and immediately try to cover it up. Forget not hearing your thoughts, he literally didn’t think you’d want to kiss him anytime soon. He won’t show it (obviously) but deep down, he’s definitely a little shaken.

Now, in the chance that you two do kiss, (which is chapters later– in fanfiction terms) he’s very hesitant? Like sure, he can destroy the entire Earth if he even wanted to but the idea is still startling. He thinks it over and once he agrees (which is the only kiss you’ll get until the next blue moon) he is admittedly worried.

He’s never kissed anyone, he never planned to so he tries to be collected like he always is. If a satellite suddenly went offline somewhere in space, well that’s nothing to do with him.

Also, an extra that isn’t a dating hc is that Saikis mom and dad love you so much, his dad literally asked if you were actually real which earned a side eye from Saiki. It does get annoying for Saiki, but he’s pretty glad you all get along.

[laswells-ashtray]

Soo uhm... autistic ghost if you do that? I mean that man is autism creature. And I love him. And need him being a silly little autistic guy. Like headcannons, and how it'd be in his relationships with people. Like romantic sexual or platonic? Please and thank you.

Ghost doesn't think he shows many symptoms of having autism because he's commonly told "I'd never have guessed", however, that's typically because the people telling him that haven't spent enough time with him to pick up on anything.

Eventually, the people he's closest to notice things but they never bring it up. Notable but not worth making him self-conscious about. That's what John calls it.

Simon doesn't like the texture of some of his clothes, he'll brush up against John and then automatically reach away to wipe his hand on his own t-shirt or his cargos. John stops wearing certain shirts around him, and sticks to the softer, worn fabrics that Simon doesn't mind touching when it's reasonable for him to do so.

He notices that his lieutenant stocks up on certain foods that he likes, always the same ones before they spontaneously switch up after almost a year and he doesn't tend to go back to them. He tries to keep whatever snack or drink it is in his office so that on the days that Simon wants to crawl out of his skin, he can offer the other man something and maybe somewhere quiet to sit in away from everyone else.

Gaz thinks for a while that maybe Ghost just doesn't like him, but that's alright, they're coworkers and they don't have to be friends. He doesn't seem to like Soap either. That's until he picks up on something, Soap and he can get loud after missions. The adrenaline is still pulsing through their system and they joke around, getting rowdy like two lads in the back of a classroom. Ghost tends to stay quiet, only speaking if spoken to and even then it's a faint mutter. He gets twitchy the louder Gaz and Soap get, his breathing becomes consciously slow and his eyes narrow until he's glaring daggers into whatever is opposite him.

Then it clicks, the man is overstimulated. Overstimulated and unwilling to say so despite his own blatant discomfort. And all it takes is keeping quiet after missions, the conversations between him and Soap become soft whispers and the stabbing tension in Ghost's shoulders lessens noticeably. It's after that, that Ghost starts talking to him more, friendlier and willing to joke around. Gaz knows they aren't exactly the closest of friends, Simon Riley is a puzzle he doesn't have the decades of solving like Price does but it's something and that's good enough.

John and Nikolai have to adapt certain aspects of their relationship when it opens up to include Simon, something that both of them are more than willing to do to ensure the comfort of everyone involved.

Simon is open to touch in varying ways. If he's the one to initiate contact then he could end up sandwiched between the captain and the pilot without complaint. He'll grumble and bat at them half-heartedly, all for show but all it takes is Nikolai kissing his cheek and John nuzzling his jaw to shut him up.

Some days a simple hand on his shoulder is too much, Simon will tense up and he won't say a word about it but they can hear how his breath hitches. Those days they won't touch him, if they sit down together on the couch tne he'll sit down on the tattered, ancient swivel chair by the window. Sometimes he'll brave sticking his legs out and poking John's thighs with his toes, other times he won't. It's up to him and they see no reason to push.

It can be a mix other days, a kiss on the cheek might be fine but when Nikolai plasters himself over Simon's back it's just too much at once. He'll retreat tactically and brush a thumb over his cheek instead.

Sex is different than they're used to but it's a welcome change. There's no more lying around and falling asleep disgusting, leaving it a mess to be dealt with the next day. They become adept at clean-up, and Simon prefers to shower after they're done. Sometimes he'll drag one of them in alongside him, other days he needs the moment alone. Make no mistake, Simon is usually the filthiest out of the three of them. he does things with this tongue that have left John's ears ringing and he can haul Nikolai around without thinking twice. But he needs time to decompress and he'll take it as a moment in the shower or a post-shower cigarette.

[bcmbiquinn]

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson Headcanons

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’d always make mixtapes/playlists for you for any occasion, “songs that remind me of us” “we should make out to this rhythm” type of thing.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’d drag you to every underground metal concert he can find but he would also go to any concert you want.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Following the above, he would do anything to get you tickets for your favourite artist, like anything! Camping the night before to be early in line -modern Eddie would have a laptop, 3 phones and a tablet to get you tickets-

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Late night drives with your boy, yup! Blasting music, windows down and taking random turns until you end up in a secluded spot and make out for hours. (Maybe more)

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Eddie is definitely a total romantic, he would write you cheesy love notes on scraps of paper, make poems for you, showing up late at night outside your window with a flower he stole from your neighbour yard.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He would try on making breakfast for you, but it’s mostly just burnt toast and half cooked scrambled eggs, he tried tho!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Touchy touchy, this man can’t take his hands off of you, pinching your cheeks, hand on your lower back, on your knees, caressing your arm, kisses on your forehead and neck and so on.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Eddie definitely needs a lot of reassurance, deep inside he always feels like people would eventually leave him, he desperately wants you to reassure him but struggles to ask for it, but once you do it and tell him there’s no one else you’d rather be, he melts instantly!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’s really into matching tattoos and would love to get one with you but if you’re hesitant about, he’d just draw one on you with a sharpie.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ ridiculously overprotective, you stub your toe, he’s like “Who did this to you?” Then proceeds to flip of the chair or hit the couch with his foot and ends up hurting himself too!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He’s sooo dramatic when he gets a cold, acts like he’s dying, all tucked acting like he’s on his deathbed holding your hand dramatically “my love…i don’t think I’d make it this time”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He can’t lie and definitely can’t keep secrets from you, if he has planned a surprise for you, he’s going to mess up immediately “Okay but when we get to the… I mean the totally normal thing we're doing! Forget what i said that!”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He would stole your snacks and leftovers, his logic? “What’s yours is mine, love. That’s how love works”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He takes fake offence to everything, if you say you don’t like a band he loves he would act as if you just stabbed him.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’s genuinely protective of you, if someone upset you he goes full beast mode, “do I need to kick someone’s ass?” He doesn’t play about you or your safety.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ if he’s ever mad at you, he would never be mean, he may cross his arms and grumble but the moment you give him puppy eyes he melts “you’re so lucky I love you, you little gremlin”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Our boy is a crybaby but he never had someone to rely on until he found you, he would try to hold his tears but the moment you hug him and whisper “I got you, Eds” it’s over, he buries his face on your shoulder shaking as he sobs.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He loves making gifts for you, he thinks it’s way more romantic, he would spent hours making the perfect necklace, ring for you, love letters, a scrapbook with all the memories you’ve made together, concert tickets, Polaroids.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He totally loves your quirks, if you’re into collecting rocks, you better believe he would get you the prettiest rocks!

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He would give you one of his rings and if it doesn’t fit on your finger because it’s too big he would turn it into a necklace.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧he would give the most out of place birthday cards “congratulations on your promotion” “yaaaaaaaaay”

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He gives you his stuff to you for no reason, his jacket? Take it, his favourite band pin? Take it. If you ever mention liking something he has, straight right into your hands “No, really take it, I don’t even need it” he probably does need it.

We’re close to valetine’s day baddies!

Divider: @adornedwithlight

[howdoyouknowaboutgandalf]

please please for the fluff prompts, eddie munson + "your hair is really soft after you wash it"

Soft.

BestFriend!Eddie Munson x reader blurb

Word count: 637

“Eddie! Are you there?”, I call. He said I was good to come over for movie night, but he hasn’t let me in. I can’t exactly knock on the door with my hands full of tapes and snacks. “EDDIE! Open the door!”, after a few more screeches from me, I hear Eddie running from one end of the trailer to the front door. He, very dramatically, may I add, swings the door open. “I’m sorry!”, Eddie responds, looking mildly disheveled in his pajamas and wet hair. “I was just cleaning up for you sweetheart.”, he finishes with a wink. “Let me in you dork.” he promptly steps aside at my words and motions for me to come in. I set my things on the kitchen bar and turn to see Eddie with his arms wide beckoning me to give him a hug. I oblige, and his still very wet hair tickles my shoulders and sides of my face. I break away and say, “Okay you sap. Poltergeist or Halloween?”. He laughs softy before replying, “Hmm, Halloween?”. I walk to the tv with a nod, the movie in hand. Eddie moves to grab sodas from the fridge. We both finish our task and he plops down on the couch next to me with an exaggerated sigh. A few minutes pass, all the while I can feel Eddie’s big baby deer eyes burning a whole in the side of my head. “Go ahead. I know you want to.”, I say with a roll of my eyes and a (not so well hidden) hidden smile. His face lights up before grabbing a throw pillow and setting it in my lap before aggressively laying his messy haired head on it. “Ahh yes. My spot.”, Eddie says in a weird posh accent that I can’t really place. My hands almost immediately reach to mess with the ends of his still damp mane. “Can I play with your hair?”, I still want to make sure he’s okay with it, even though I have countless times. I can feel his head nod as he says, “Yes. Pet me.”. I pause for a moment, and (jokingly) respond, “I hate you. You make everything worse. I don’t even want to now.”. He laughs in response before grabbing my hand and bringing it to his scalp. I run my fingers across it, admiring him from above. The movie is over halfway done now, my hands still tangled in Eddie’s hair. “Your hair is so soft when you wash it.”, but he doesn’t say anything back. “Eddie?”, I try again. He hums this time. “I fell asleep for a minute.”, he mumbles. My mouth can’t help but turn up into a smile. “Go back to sleep Eds.”, he lets out a little whiny sound at that. “Can you stay the night?”, he asks, his voice is soft. “Yeah.”, I replied with a stroke to his head. He doesn’t move in the slightest. “Come on you big baby, you’ve gotta get off the couch to go to bed.” He whines again before rolling off of me and trudging to his bedroom, with me on his tail. He makes a pitstop at the bathroom while I make myself comfortable on one (my) side of the bed. He enters and all but flings himself on top of me before shuffling around to lay on my chest. My hands find their way back to his tresses. “Goodnight Eds.”, he has already settled, and I assume it won’t be long before he’s out like a light. I don’t expect him to respond, but he does. “Love you.”, his sleepy voice is muffled against my skin. “I love you too.”, I respond with a smile. His arms slither under my waist to hold me while he drifts off. My own sleep follows soon after.

More fluff prompts to request: https://www.tumblr.com/howdoyouknowaboutgandalf/774235908022075392/i-found-this-list-of-fluff-prompts-on-pinterest

[v6quewrlds]

do you have anything with Justin Herbert? 🫶🏾

imagine being fuck buddies with justin.

author's note⠀⁎⠀another abandoned draft/stream of consciousness lmao, oc warning (sorry), despite the title there is no smut, this is angst (sorry again) <3

Ruby liked it when things were easy. Predictable. Like a perfectly seasoned stew that bubbled away, never burning, never needing to be checked on. That's what her life had been for the past few years, easy, breezy, Covergirl-adjacent predictability.

Then she met Justin.

Justin Herbert, the star quarterback of the Los Angeles Chargers. He was the kind of man who could turn heads without even trying, his tall frame and tanned skin a beacon of athleticism in a sea of mere mortals. His blue eyes had captured Ruby's attention the moment they met from across the bar. But it wasn't just his appearance. It was his charm, his wit, the way he argued with her about the last 30 minutes of Interstellar as if he had penned the screenplay himself. She insisted that it was much too complicated, that Nolan had gone full Nolan, while he defended it as a masterpiece of cinematic brilliance. That's when she knew he was different from most guys, as cliche and misguided as it sounded.

Their friendship grew through a series of chance encounters and shared laughs. Ruby had built walls around her heart brick by brick. She had her son, Malakai, to think about, a six-year-old tornado of energy and love that took up most of her time. And then there was her career, a demanding beast that required constant feeding with innovative ideas and late-night panics. But when Justin suggested they keep things casual, she saw the appeal. No strings, no drama, just two adults satisfying a mutual craving. It was perfect, and just like the two of them, it was structured.

Most of the time, they hooked up at Justin's place in Hidden Hills. Ruby would show up in the early afternoon after seeing a client, her work usually wrapped up for that part of the day. She knew the code to his door, had a drawer for her clothes, and even a set of towels reserved just for her. It was a strange dance of intimacy without the intimacy. Sometimes, she'd arrive while he was stuck at the Chargers' facility, working on his game or doing media appearances. He'd always text her, though, asking if she got there okay and if she needed anything picked up from the grocery store on his way. The answer was always no. But it was sweet, he was sweet. His upbringing seemed to be stellar, his parents had raised a man with manners, and it showed - in and out of the bedroom.

They'd melt into one another, go for a round or two, and then Ruby would shower, feeling the warm water wash away any lingering doubt or guilt she might have had. Afterward, they'd sit on his giant couch, eating a bougie snack she assembled in his kitchen, and sometimes they'd talk about their days. It was surface-level stuff, mostly. A cute drawing from Malakai, a new recipe she was working on, his latest endorsement deal. But it was comfortable, easy, predictable.

She would leave by 2:45. Malakai got out at 3 and Justin's place was - conveniently - just a 10-minute drive from the elementary school. But she liked to get there early, sit in the parking lot, and shift back into her Mommy Mindset. It was her little slice of me-time in an otherwise hectic life. Plus, it gave her enough space to ensure she didn't look like a hot mess when her son saw her.

Mondays were added into their rotation when the season began. That was Justin's recovery day after Sunday games. Ruby would leave a hot dinner on the stove, knowing he'd be sore and tired, and that the quietness of her place in the Santa Clarita suburbs was something he craved. He would use the spare key hidden under the mat and let himself in, usually around 11 PM Sunday night. Malakai was with his grandparents, as embedded in Ruby's weekly schedule.

So, Justin would slip in while Ruby was catching up on sleep, showering off the stress and the loss or victory of the game. He had a little assigned space in the back of her closet, a couple of shirts and some sweatpants, not much more. He'd get into bed with her, his body warm and smelling faintly of muscle balm, and she'd curl into him like he was a giant teddy bear. The fever was slow and gentle in the morning, the kind that made her gasp into his chest and hold on as tight as she could for fear he'd vanish into thin air.

Justin would let Ruby boss him around as they made breakfast, the smells of eggs and bacon filling the kitchen. He liked it, liked that she was comfortable enough to take charge in her own space. They'd sit at the kitchen table, the sun peeking through the blinds, and she would listen to him talk about his schedule, how much he missed his family, and his fears about the next game. She'd nod and offer advice, her hazel eyes looking into his with a sincerity that was surprisingly comforting.

It was perfect. No labels, no drama, no expectations. Just two people enjoying the company of the other when their busy lives allowed it.

-

Malakai loved sports, which was a small miracle since Ruby had done everything in her power to steer him away from football. She had never been a fan, finding the sport too violent and too consuming of her ex's time. But when the six-year-old bounced around in the backseat of Ruby's Range Rover one afternoon after school, declaring he was a Chargers fan and Justin Herbewt (his consonants still a bit jumbled) was his favorite player, she felt dread creep up her spine.

Unable to deny her baby's happiness, she found herself sitting in front of the TV every weekend, pretending to work while Malakai's eyes were glued to the screen, cheering for Justin's team. It was strange, watching the sport she used to despise, now finding a strange comfort in the rhythm of the plays, the sound of the crowd. And every time she caught a glimpse of Justin, his arms, his height, his focus, she felt a swell of something she didn't dare name.

One wildcard weekend, the Chargers had a surprise loss. Ruby couldn't pull her eyes away from the TV as Justin's team fell apart. She saw his pained expression, the defeat etched into every line on his face, and her heart ached for him. It was unlike anything she had felt before. After tucking Malakai into bed, she sent him a tentative text, unsure if she was crossing a line.

The next morning, Ruby woke up to silence. No text from Justin, no acknowledgment of her offer to talk. She felt a pang of rejection, but she knew he was probably just tired from the game. She went about her day, dropping Malakai off at his grandparents' early Sunday morning. She couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake.

Her schedule was tight with meetings and calls, but she couldn't shake the image of Justin's face from her mind. The way his jaw had set, the tension in his shoulders, it was a stark contrast to the carefree, silly, intelligent man who occasionally slept in her bed. Ruby knew she was crossing into murky waters, but she couldn't ignore the pull she felt towards him. It was more than just the thrill of being with someone so desirable. It was his kindness, his understanding, his ability to listen without judgment that had started to mean more than she cared to admit.

When the text came, it was just like him - sweet, considerate, and yet straight to the point.

Sorry for the late response. Had a long night.

I'm with my family tonight, but if you're free on Monday, I'd love to come over.

Ruby felt a mix of relief and nerves. She didn't know why she cared so much about his response, but she did. She replied as simply as she could.

Sure.

Malakai will be with his grandparents, as usual. I'll be in the area all day. Let me know when you're on your way.

-

Monday rolled around, and Ruby found herself pacing the living room. She had done her best to keep the day as normal as possible, but the anticipation was thick in the air. She had met with clients, picked out the freshest ingredients for her next culinary masterpiece, and even squeezed in a workout, but she couldn't shake the butterflies in her stomach. When the doorbell finally rang, she took a deep breath and composed herself before opening the door.

Justin was dressed down in a pair of Nike training pants and a plain black t-shirt, his messy brownish-blondish hair hinting at the emotional rollercoaster he'd been on since the game. He looked tired, but his eyes lit up when he saw her. Without a word, he stepped in and wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a tight embrace that made her heart race. Ruby knew that this was a line they hadn't crossed before, but she didn't push him away. Instead, she leaned into his warmth and let out a sigh of relief.

"I was worried about you," Ruby murmured into his chest, the words muffled by his shirt. Justin's grip tightened around her. "That was a tough watch. How are you holding up?"

Justin stepped back, his eyes searching hers. "It's been a rough 48 hours, to be honest." He took a deep breath. "But I'm okay."

Ruby nodded, unsure of what to say next. She hadn't anticipated the raw vulnerability in his gaze. "Do you want to talk about it?" she offered tentatively.

Justin hesitated before nodding. "I don't know if I can put it into words," he said, his voice thick with unspoken emotion. "But it's more than just the game. It's... everything."

Ruby led him to the couch and sat down beside him, her hand resting gently on his knee. "Take your time," she assured him. "It's good to vent."

He leaned back, his eyes scanning the room before settling on hers again. "I just... I've never felt so... exposed before," he admitted, his thumb tracing circles on her hand. "Everyone expects so much from me. To be perfect, to win, to be the hero. And when I don't..." He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

Ruby's heart ached for him. She knew all too well the pressure of expectations, of feeling like you had to be everything to everyone. Recognizing the tension in his posture, she allowed him the space to collect his thoughts. After a moment, she spoke up, her voice soft but firm. "Sometimes, it's just not meant to be. And that's okay. You're allowed to be upset, but never feel sorry for yourself. You work too hard for that."

Justin offered a half-smile, appreciative of her understanding. He leaned back into the couch cushions with an exhale. "I'm sorry about all the football talk, I know it's not your thing."

Ruby shrugged. "It's fine, really. I mean, you're passionate about it, and it's a big part of your life. It's important to you, so as your friend, it's important to me too. No big deal," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

But Justin wasn't ready to let it go. "Friend," he echoed, his voice half-chuckle, half-challenge. "Am I your friend?"

Ruby felt the tension in the room thicken. "What else would you call it?" she asked, her voice just as light, despite the sudden heaviness in her chest.

Justin's smile grew, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, you know, we're not exactly hanging out when we see each other." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Friends don't do the things we do."

Ruby felt her eyebrows furrow for a brief second, but she held her ground. "What things?" she asked, playing dumb. She knew exactly what he meant, but she didn't want to be the one to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"You know," Justin said, his voice a low rumble, "the kind of things that make me clear out a drawer for you and keep your favorite ingredients stocked." His eyes searched hers, and Ruby blinked back at him, her heart racing. "Or," he continued with a small smile, "the kind of things that make me want to risk everything just to have you in my life."

Ruby felt the walls she had so carefully constructed start to crumble. "Justin," she whispered, her voice shaky. "That's dangerous," a mirthless chuckle escaped her, "especially for you." She looked down at their intertwined fingers, his thumb still making lazy circles on her hand.

He sat up, his expression earnest. "I know. You're dangerous."

The words were simple, but they carried the weight of a confession, of something deeper than either of them had been ready to admit. Ruby's eyes searched his, looking for a sign that he was just saying it to get in her pants again, but all she saw was a sincerity that was as surprising as it was disarming.

"I'm dangerous?" Ruby echoed, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. She hadn't anticipated this turn in their conversation.

Justin nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yeah," he said, "extremely dangerous."

Ruby's heart skipped a beat. "What does that mean?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Justin sighed and leaned back into the couch, his eyes searching the ceiling as if the answers were written there. He clearly didn't want to dive into this conversation, seemed to be fighting with himself internally.

"Justin," Ruby said, her voice firm despite the shock, "what do you mean by that?"

Justin took a deep breath, his blue eyes finding hers again. "I mean that... I can't help but feel like I'm falling for you," he admitted, his voice thick with vulnerability. "And that scares the shit out of me."

Ruby's breath caught in her throat. She had been bracing herself for a casual, teasing conversation, not a declaration of feelings. She felt her heart thud heavily in her chest. "What?" she said, trying to keep the tremble from her voice.

Justin stood up, his eyes darting around the room, avoiding her gaze as best he could. "You heard me," he said. "I really like you, Ruby. More than I should, probably. I know you don't do relationships and I'm not supposed to want that either, but I can't help it. What we have is good, it's easy, but I keep thinking that I want more than easy. I want all of you."

Ruby felt like she had been punched in the gut. "Justin, we agreed on this," she said, her voice shaking. "No strings attached, no messiness. We're both busy, we have our own lives. Feelings ruin everything."

Justin nodded, his eyes downcast. "I know, I know. But I can't help it. I'm trying to be more intentional about how I treat you, how I talk to you." He paused, his voice low. "Because I don't want to ruin what we have."

Ruby felt the tears welling up. She didn't know why his words had such an impact on her, but she knew she had to protect herself. "Justin," she began, her voice shaking, "I agreed to this because it was easy. Because I don't have time for a relationship, especially considering who you are."

He looked at her, confused. "What do you mean, 'who I am'?"

Ruby took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "You're an NFL quarterback in LA, Justin. Like it or not, you're a big deal. I'm a single mom with a career, and I hate football. I don't have time to be a WAG, dealing with all the drama and the scrutiny that comes with it. And you don't deserve to be forced to deal with someone who can't handle that."

Justin frowned, his gaze intense. "I never asked you to be anything but yourself. Why do you think I've kept this from everyone? Because I know the kind of bullshit that comes with my job. I've done everything I can to keep us separate from that."

Ruby sighed, looking away. "This is exactly what I didn't want," she murmured. "This... mess." She knew she had painted herself into a corner with her own words, but she couldn't deny the fear that washed over her at the thought of letting anyone into her life in a real way, especially someone in the public eye like Justin.

Justin's hand cupped her chin, gently turning her face towards him. "Look, I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend, or to go to every game, or to deal with any of that crap. I just... I care about you, Ruby. More than I should, and I don't know what that means for us. But I had to tell you."

When she didn't respond, he continued. "I was honest about who I was from the beginning, and it was never a problem before. But if me being honest about how I feel is going to make you run, then maybe we should reconsider this whole thing." He paused, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped her eye. "Because the last thing I want to do is hurt you."

Ruby took a deep, shaky breath, feeling her heart twist. "It's not that, it's just..." she began, but couldn't find the words.

"What?" Justin asked, his voice softer now.

Ruby looked at him, her hazel eyes swimming with unshed tears. "It's just that... I'm scared," she admitted finally. "I can't be a part of that world, and you can't escape it. I have to protect Malakai, protect myself, and I don't know if I can do that if I get too involved in... this." She gestured between the two of them, her voice cracking.

Justin's gaze never wavered from hers. "I understand," he said gently. "But I'm not asking you to be anyone but you. I just want a chance to see where this goes. I won't push, I promise."

Ruby felt the weight of his words. He was giving her an out, but she also knew that he was giving her a chance. A chance to explore something real, something that could be more than just a casual arrangement to satisfy their physical needs. She took a deep breath and looked into his earnest blue eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or insincerity. All she found was hope.

"I can't promise that things won't be hard sometimes," he continued, "But I do promise that I'll always be honest with you, and I'll always respect your boundaries. If it doesn't work, or if you're not happy, just let me know and I'll walk away. I won't make it messy, I won't make it complicated. I promise I'll let you go. Just please, give me a chance to love you."

Ruby felt the words resonate through her, shaking her to her core. She had never heard anyone speak to her with such sincerity, such vulnerability. She knew that the life of a football player's girlfriend was not what she had signed up for, but she also couldn't ignore the connection that had grown between them over the months. "You swear?" she whispered, her voice shaking.

Justin nodded, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on her cheek. "I swear." His voice was steady, his gaze never leaving hers. "If you're not happy, if it's too much, you just have to tell me. We can go back to what we were before or I'll walk away. Everything's your call."

Ruby felt her resolve crumbling. The fear was still there, the shortsighted doubt and the uncertainty, but so was the undeniable pull towards Justin. The thought of losing him, of pushing him away, was suddenly unbearable. "You're not making this easy," she murmured, a sad smile playing on her lips.

Justin leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "I know," he said. "Please, let me in."

[malk1ns]

january 29 @ utah, 3-2 OT win

hi geno. this was inspo for today's.

sid is rounding into form and had several milestones in this game.

Zhenya understands why sometimes new guys mistake him for part of the equipment staff, or one of the trainers.

It’s been decades since your designation stipulated what types of jobs you’re allowed to have, even in the NHL. There are omegas at all levels these days, and the Penguins hire more than most. With Zhenya’s tendency to mooch around the training facilities in athletic gear, it’s never a surprise when a rookie or a new signing tries to hand off their gear to him, or stop him to ask a question about their rehab plan.

Zhenya’s too nice to turn up his nose and sneer, even though handling sweaty hockey gear even for a second makes him want to hurl. They never make that mistake more than one time anyway, not when they see the symbol on his badge or one of the more established guys comes up to poke fun at them for the misunderstanding. 

Zhenya doesn’t mind. He knows he dresses a little untraditionally for a contracted omega; the girls are usually decked out in skimpy dresses that wouldn’t be out of place at a nightclub, and the guys tend to either wear formalwear or mesh. Anything to stand out.

He hasn’t felt a need to stand out in a long time. It’s not like anyone who counts is going to forget what he’s got on offer.

The rest of the team omegas usually watch games from whatever room the team has set up for them. Zhenya goes sometimes, to mingle with the omegas with other teams he’s known for years and introduce himself to the newbies, but most games find him down in the lounge, taking advantage of the quiet and craft services to have some snacks and zone out on his phone.

He usually keeps the game on in the background, just to keep track of what the mood in the room is going to be after.

This road trip has been pretty ugly, but Zhenya’s watching raptly when Sid backhands in the overtime winner, and the manic smile on his face as the players all pile on him says it all.

He’s on the clock now, so Zhenya beelines to the trainers to get his knee looked at quickly and make sure the muscle he strained in the pickup game he went to last week is in good shape. He manages to skid into the locker room just before Sully starts in on his postgame pep talk.

The omegas always cluster at the far end of the locker room, out of the way of the cameras if they can help it. Zhenya ends up standing next to Evelyn, who gives him a pointed once-over, rolls her eyes, and turns to face the coaching staff.

Evelyn’s new, and she doesn’t like him. Zhenya doesn’t take it personally. Whenever the Penguins contract on a new omega, they always walk into the job thinking they’re going to shoot to the top of the pecking order, that the big prize on the Penguins will lay eyes on them and be so overwhelmed by their scent that he plucks them from the crowd and makes them his favorite.

Evelyn does smell nice, sweet and slightly fruity, like the jam Zhenya likes to stir into his tea. She’ll be popular. She’ll never be a threat, though.

Eventually she’ll come around. Zhenya’s charming and funny, and he’s been able to win over every omega the Penguins have hired over the last 19 years. She’s taking longer than most, admittedly, but he’ll figure her out before the end of the season.

Sid gets the helmet tonight, which isn’t a surprise. The commentary from the team is explicit enough that Zhenya can see the cameraman wincing.

Finally everyone calms down enough for the players to pick their omegas.

Zhenya’s never known how they decide who gets to pick one for the night. There are the obvious ones, of course, the game-winner or the goalie that kept them in the game or the guy who scored his first NHL goal. Outside of that, though, the team has some arcane internal system for deciding who gets a reward for any given game.

It doesn’t matter. Zhenya isn’t like the rest of the omegas, waiting to see who picks them, if anyone. A night off isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but an omega who goes too long without getting selected is in danger of getting traded, or sent to the AHL affiliate, or cut entirely.

Sid will pick last like always, so Zhenya watches the rest of tonight’s winners make their selections.

Ned and Petey, both of whom are far too faithful to their wives to utilize a team omega, cede their choices to Rusty, who isn’t. His grin is sharklike when he pulls two omegas along with him to his stall, and Zhenya snorts, loudly enough to distract Evelyn from where she’s staring at Sid to glare at him again.

Whatever psychic summoning she was trying doesn’t work. Karl picks her, which doesn’t surprise Zhenya at all—he knows everyone’s type. He swings her into his arms as she giggles up at him, batting her eyelashes. Zhenya smiles blandly at her when she shoots a poisonous glare over Karl’s shoulder, then moves his gaze to Sid.

“Boring,” Zhenya hears Tanger mutter as Sid gives to the staffer who’s in charge of writing down their choices Geno’s name.

“Smart,” Zhenya corrects, tilting his head just enough so that his scent starts to fill the room. “Sid gets best, he knows this—why change?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tanger says with an eye roll, but Zhenya doesn’t miss the way his nostrils flare.

Zhenya’s scent has always defied an easy description. There’s something marine about it, salt and wind and ocean spray, but with a base note that’s just on the verge of being unpleasantly spicy. It’s complicated, and it turns heads wherever he goes. Some people hate it, but some—a surprising amount of athletes—find it absolutely irresistible.

None more than Sidney Crosby, who’s making his way across the room, a huge grin on his face.

“Did you watch?” he demands, stopping scant inches from Zhenya. He’s still in his base layers, and if it were anyone else Zhenya would wrinkle his nose and step back, but he’s been conditioned into finding Sid hot no matter what state he’s in—and it doesn’t hurt that his own scent is especially sharp right now, citrus and sugar and gin making Zhenya’s mouth water.

“Such good goal, Sid,” Zhenya praises, watching as Sid’s chest puffs. “Best backhand, like, goalie doesn’t have chance. Great win for team, too.”

“Yeah,” Sid says, looking around the room with a fond smile. The guys who got omegas are all happy, of course, chatting with their picks at their stalls before staff shows up to hustle everyone into the showers and out to the shuttle, but everyone else smells happy too, relief and excitement saturating the air. “We needed it.”

Zhenya’s not a part of the team, not like the players are, but he takes pride in their successes and mourns their rough streaks too. A happy, chattering locker room settles something in him, especially after how dire they’ve been the last week.

“You get for them,” he says, redirecting Sid’s attention back to him. “Surprise you let them give you helmet, though.”

Sid shrugs sheepishly at that. The helmet isn’t meant for players like him, he’d explained to Zhenya years ago. For big milestones, sure, but it’s meant to recognize a guy who did a lot of little things right, or someone who’s been struggling and got the monkey off their back. Sometimes, though, the players insist, and Sid almost always gives in when his team wants something for him.

“Okay,” Tags says, popping up at Sid’s shoulder and smacking his arm. “C’mon, Sid, you know he’s a sure thing, you don’t need to flirt. We need to get packed up and get to the plane. You’ll get him back when we land.”

Sid looks ready to snap something unkind, so Zhenya reaches forward and squeezes Sid’s shoulder, and Sid relaxes, heading obediently back to his stall to strip off the rest of his gear.

Tags watches him go, shaking his head. “Pain in the ass,” he mutters, but it’s fond, just like everyone on the Penguins is when dealing with Sidney Crosby. “Hey, did I see JP at UPMC the other day? You thinking of extending after all?”

Zhenya hesitates, and Tags doesn’t push, giving Zhenya a kind smile as he rushes off to start breaking down the room.

Zhenya’s agent had been in town, it’s true. He’s been fielding calls about Zhenya’s contract status for months, now that Zhenya’s eligible to extend again starting in July, and he’d wanted to meet with Zhenya face-to-face.

He’d left their meeting frustrated, Zhenya knows. He’s not being a very helpful client right now.

He brushes those thoughts away and makes his way to the dry change room to throw sweatpants on over his compression shorts and grab his bag. He’s really looking forward to going home.

—

Technically, omegas and players aren’t supposed to sit together on the plane. There’s something about it in the code of conduct contracts everyone signs, to keep any funny business with team omegas away from team property, but when Sid snags Zhenya as he’s walking down the aisle towards the back and tugs him into the empty seat next to him, nobody has much of a reaction except for Ty, who shakes his head at Sid but keeps walking.

“Sorry,” Sid says, not sounding very sorry at all. “I just didn’t want you walking past everyone.”

Zhenya stares at him, unimpressed. He’s never had any problems with any of these guys. The last time a player joked about picking Zhenya before Sid was able to, Sid had practically dropped fang in the locker room and the guy had been traded a week later. Nobody who’s sitting on this plane is going to give Zhenya a hard time or look at him twice, not after a game like that and with the way Sid’s smelling. “Okay,” he says, making sure he sounds exactly as skeptical as he feels. “So, what we do?”

Sid’s eyes drop to Zhenya’s mouth, but before Zhenya can say a word he shakes his head and leans down to dig through his bag, pulling out his iPad. “Want to watch something?” he says, offering the tablet to Zhenya. “I haven’t watched any more episodes of Severance after the ones we watched together.”

“Me too, was waiting,” Zhenya says, grabbing the iPad and scrolling until he finds the right app. Sid’s found Zhenya’s headphones, a too-expensive pair Sid bought for him a few years ago, and when they’ve got the audio figured out so they both can listen they settle into their chairs.

Sid’s warm against Zhenya’s side, and he smells fantastic, strong and masculine and like a winner. Zhenya shifts in his seat and tries to focus on the show, but his mouth is watering and he thinks he’s getting wet. If Sid notices, he’s too polite to comment on it.

They have to wait until they’re back at Sid’s house. Sitting together is one thing; Sid gets rules bent for him all the time. Starting something with the team all around them, though, might actually have consequences, and Zhenya’s not willing to risk that.

He misses most of what happens in the show. From how Sid’s scent grows, though, he’s not doing much better. They’ll just have to re-watch these episodes some other time.

—

Sid’s restless by the time they touch down at Pittsburgh International. Zhenya spends the last hour of the flight with his hand covering the back of Sid’s neck trying to pump calming pheromones at him, but it’s pretty much a lost cause; he even snarls at Kris when he walks past their row.

Kris just rolls his eyes at them. Zhenya grimaces apologetically and thinks to himself that probably this is why omegas aren’t supposed to sit with the players that picked them on the plane.

Sid bats Zhenya’s hands away from his own carry-on and shepherds him off the plane, practically tripping in his haste to get them both to his car. Zhenya barely manages to toss his keys to a staffer; they’ll get his own car to Sid’s house for him to use in the morning.

If Sid lets him leave tomorrow. Sometimes he doesn’t. That’s not technically allowed either; an omega’s obligation ends after twelve hours, but nobody can dictate what Zhenya does in his off-hours—or who.

Sid relaxes once he’s got Zhenya tucked safely into his passenger seat. The further he drives them away from the airport, the more his shoulders come down, and once they’re pulling into his garage and the gate is closing behind them he’s practically jovial again.

“It was a pretty good game, eh?” he says, hauling their bags inside and dropping them unceremoniously in the mudroom. Zhenya considers making a fuss—he’s got a lot of his nice clothes in there, after all—but for all that Sid’s finally stopped looking around for an active threat, he’s still practically vibrating with pent-up energy and hormones. Zhenya can bill him for his dry-cleaning.

“Great game,” he affirms, letting Sid tow him to the staircase. Sometimes Sid gets like this, needs his ego petted before he’ll let the game go and take his reward. “You get team working together, like, everyone on same page. I’m know you figure out what to do.”

Sid sends a smirk over his shoulder, and Zhenya shivers a little at the show of teeth, suddenly aware on a very primal level that he’s alone with a dominant alpha male that’s strong enough to take him down and keep him there without much effort.

Sid’s smile goes sharp at the turn Zhenya’s scent takes, and the click when he shuts his bedroom door sounds final.

Zhenya hasn’t made his living off reading alphas his entire adult life for nothing, though. He knows what it is Sid really wants tonight.

Before Sid can turn around from closing them into his room, Zhenya’s got him pinned against the door, wedging his hand around Sid’s chin and turning his head so Zhenya can see his face. Sid looks like he’s going to fight it for a second, but Zhenya grinds against him, rubbing his dick along Sid’s ass, and Sid lets out a long breath, deliberately letting his muscles go lax.

“And I figure out what to do with you,” Zhenya coos, trailing his hand down Sid’s torso until he can grope Sid’s dick through his jeans. He’s rock-hard, huge in Zhenya’s hand, and when Zhenya squeezes Sid growls, bucking his hips forward into Zhenya’s grip. “Yeah, you want it bad, I watch you all night and I think to myself, he’s play so good, superstar, I get to have him tonight.”

“Fuck,” Sid hisses through gritted teeth, letting Zhenya manhandle him back to the bed and shove him onto the mattress face-first.

Once he gets Sid naked, Zhenya spends some time groping his ass. He doesn’t get his hands on Sid this way all that often, so he ignores Sid’s whining to really appreciate it.

The omegas from other teams always giggle over Sid when they’re gossiping with Zhenya. He’s more than happy to share tidbits—nothing too personal, of course, nothing that would get either of them in trouble or result in bad press if it went public, but enough to make them jealous, make sure everyone knows what they’re missing out on. They couldn’t even dream of anything like this, though. Sid’s ass is everything that’s been said about it and more.

Zhenya reaches down to palm himself, taking the edge off a little. Sid figures out what he’s doing and struggles under Zhenya’s hold until he manages to flip onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows to stare.

Zhenya’s got a big dick for an omega. It’s nowhere near even the most poorly-endowed alpha, obviously, but he’s proud of it, knows how to use it. When he fucks around with betas and other omegas in the offseason, he does his best to leave them panting and bow-legged.

Sid’s bow-legged enough on his own already, but he’s got a perverse fascination with Zhenya’s dick and balls. Has since the beginning, really, the first time he felt comfortable enough to hint around this as something he wanted sometimes. It turns Zhenya’s crank the way Sid practically drools over his dick.

“You want?” he asks, cupping his balls and tugging meanly, watching Sid’s mouth drop. “Yeah, you do. Big strong alpha, big important captain, everyone wants to say how good you’re play—what if they knew, huh? What if they saw how much you like getting fucked by omega dick? What you think they’re say?”

“Oh my god,” Sid whimpers, reaching forward. Zhenya slaps his hands down, baring his teeth when Sid moans and his dick twitches, drooling precome all over his stomach. “G, please, I need it bad.”

“I know, baby,” Zhenya croons, leaning off to the side to paw through Sid’s nightstand until he finds the lube. “I give to you, nice and hard like you’re deserve.”

Sid lets Zhenya turn him back over and tuck a pillow under his hips, spreading his legs obediently when Zhenya tells him to.

“Good boy,” Zhenya says, watching Sid’s whole body shudder. “I take care now.”

He opens Sid up agonizingly slow. Sid shivers and pants and sweats under him, squirming back for more as Zhenya gets one finger, then two, then three into him.

Sid’s always so tight when they do this. It’s a good thing he doesn’t like alphas, not even for an occasional dalliance, because Zhenya’s not sure there’s enough lube in the world that would let another alpha get at his ass.

There’s plenty for what Zhenya’s working with, though.

Sid’s practically incoherent by the time Zhenya takes himself in hand and lines up against his hole. “Take it now,” he mutters practically to himself, pushing until he’s inside Sid’s body.

He can feel Sid squeeze around him, an instinctive rejection, before he takes a breath and relaxes. When Zhenya pushes all the way in with one smooth thrust, they both moan.

Zhenya goes slowly at first, but when Sid fumbles one arm back and grabs his thigh, he tucks his head, braces his palms on the mattress, and starts to fuck him in earnest.

Sid always goes so, so quiet when he’s getting fucked. It had alarmed Zhenya the first time; he’d stopped, concerned Sid was in pain, or had changed his mind and didn’t know how to say it.

As if Zhenya could ever do anything to Sid that Sid wasn’t explicitly allowing.

Now, Zhenya focuses on his smell, the way the citrus blooms so heavy it’s overripe, almost rotten, the closer Sid gets to the edge. He runs his hands over Sid’s back to feel his muscles clenching and relaxing, the way his hips hitch into the pillow as he rubs himself off.

When Sid’s scent is strong enough that Zhenya feels like he’s practically drunk off the gin lacing through the orange, Zhenya slips his hand under Sid’s torso and squeezes hard where his knot would pop if he were fucking an omega.

Sid howls. His back bows to an almost painful angle as he comes. His dick kicks in Zhenya’s hand, pumping come out at an incredible rate, and Zhenya whines at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he fucks Sid through it. He knows what it feels like when Sid comes inside him, and the smell of Sid’s come kicks at something in his brain that makes him want to fawn and beg.

He grits his teeth and fucks Sid harder instead, holding him to the mattress with the full weight of his body until he grinds in one last time and comes with a grunt.

As soon as he’s got control of his limbs again, Zhenya pulls out and rolls to the side, making sure to give Sid space. They’ve learned the hard way that sometimes Sid’s body reacts in the aftermath before his brain can, and Zhenya isn't interested in spending 20 minutes trying to talk down an angry, hormone-addled alpha who’s got him pinned to the floor tonight.

Sid comes back to himself quickly tonight, and it’s not long before Zhenya finds himself in Sid’s arms, cheek rubbing against Sid’s pec as Sid plays with the hair at the nape of his neck. Zhenya purrs, going boneless at the answering rumble in Sid’s chest.

He’s practically half-asleep when Sid opens his mouth and jolts him back to wakefulness.

“Has Kyle talked to you about your contract?”

Zhenya freezes.

Some of the guys, like Tags earlier, have been tiptoeing around asking him outright. Trust Sidney Crosby to just rip the bandaid off.

The truth is, Kyle’s been asking him to sign for at least another year for months now. He wants Zhenya there for Sid, he’d explained; nobody else knows Sid as well as Zhenya does, nobody can get to him when he needs sense talked into him. Nobody could step into his shoes.

It’s the truth, which doesn’t make it less flattering. Zhenya’s still hesitating, though.

Sid clears his throat. “I mean. I know you’re probably…well, this is your fourth contract here, and I wouldn’t blame you if-—you’ve probably got offers from all over the place, right? You don’t need to stay in Pittsburgh.”

“Yes,” Zhenya says warily. There’s no such thing as tampering rules when it comes to omegas; teams are allowed to submit contract proposals whenever they want. JP’s got a filing cabinet in his office dedicated to the most outlandish offers Zhenya’s gotten over the years. The compensation packages aren’t as outrageous as they were a decade ago, but they’re still lucrative, and there are plenty to choose from.

He could go somewhere warm if he wanted. He could walk into a new locker room, one that’s closer to winning the Cup, and relive the manic adrenaline rush that is a run for the championship one last time. There are options that would cater to whatever whim he wants to indulge.

But…

“I figured,” Sid mutters, and his scent goes briefly sour. “I know that Pittsburgh isn’t…there are other cities. But I was wondering, maybe…I mean, I’d never ask you to quit, not if you didn’t want to, but if you’re thinking that maybe you don’t…” He blows a big gust of air out of his nose, laughing ruefully. “Sorry. This is coming out all wrong. But, I wanted to ask…” He tightens his arms around Zhenya briefly before loosening entirely, rolling Zhenya away from him until they’re face-to-face. “I was wondering, would you consider contracting with…with me, instead. Like, as my omega. Not mine, oh my god, you’re your own person, obviously. But—”

Zhenya lets him babble, staring at him wide-eyed.

Sid’s hinted at this for years now. Zhenya never really took it seriously—alphas say all kinds of shit when they’re knot-deep in an omega’s pussy and drunk on pheromones. Before Sid put unofficial dibs on Zhenya and he’d still get picked by others, he’d been proposed to probably half a dozen times. But…

Sid had emailed him this past August, just a few days before his own contract extension went public. They talk pretty frequently over the summers, just to catch up and chat, but this message had gone a little more serious than their off-season conversations usually do.

I don’t know how much longer I’m going to play, not really, Sid had written. I don’t want to be one of those guys that everyone looks at and shakes their head, like, why isn’t he retiring, doesn’t he see he doesn’t have it anymore—you know? I never want to go out that way. I do know that I don’t want to do it without you, though. Even if you decide to hang them up after you’re done, I hope you’re still around with me.

Zhenya can recite that email word-for-word. Sid hadn’t said a thing about it when they both got back to Pittsburgh for camp so Zhenya hadn’t brought it up either. He’s spent the intervening months wondering, though, and avoiding his agent’s increasingly irritated missives about giving Kyle an answer.

“Yes.” Zhenya interrupts whatever no doubt embarrassing nonsense Sid is stammering his way through. “Yes, I want. Want to stay with you. Be yours.”

[justastraymoa]

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

~

The sun hadn’t even peeked over the horizon when your door opened, and you bounced awake as several bodies jumped onto the bed with you.

“Y/n!”  Han crooned pushing at your shoulder.

“Why?”  You asked plainly rubbing your tired eyes.

“We wanted to say goodbye.  You will be gone by the time we are done today.”  Lee Know replied.

You slapped the bed as Binnie draped himself on top of you.  “I said goodbye last night.”  You shift so Bin wasn’t crushing your hips together painfully.  His weight pushing you into the bed was surprisingly comforting and you pat his head heavily.

“Like that was going to be enough.”  Seungmin scoffed.  He smacked at your foot, and you kick at him petulantly.

“Did you pack?”  Chan asked.  He looked around the room at the lack of suitcase.  Just a mini backpack.

You pointed to the backpack.  “Just a carry on.  I have clothes at home.”

“Did you pack your charger?  Snacks?  Water?”

You smiled.  It was nice to have someone worry over you again.  It had been several years since anyone cared.  “Packed the charger.  Snack and drinks are provided on the plane.”

You tapped Bin to let you up.  He sat up and pulled you with him, making you whine as the blanket slipped off and the cool air hit your sleep warm skin.  He mumbled an apology.

“How are you getting to the airport?”  Hyunjin asked.

“We can give you a ride.”  Chan offered.

“You cannot skip more work.  You will make STAY sad.  I will get an Uber.”  You looked at your phone.  “In fact you are going to be late already.”

Chan checked his own phone and I.N shrugged.

Hyunjin threw his arms around both you and Bin, squeezing tight.  “Be safe.  Text all the time.  And call!”  He ordered.

You squeezed him back.  “I will.  And 2 weeks will fly by.  You will be so busy trying to catch up you wont even have time to think about me.”

“I already miss you!”  Felix whined, joining in on the hug.

Everyone else wrapped around you as well until you were being squeezed by all 8 of your soulmates.  And you were pretty sure you felt someone kiss the top of your head, but there was no way to tell who it was, and you doubted they would fess up if you asked.

~

Once at the airport you sat at your terminal, facing the runway to watch the planes, but pulling your phone out first.

You chuckled at Chans obvious overthinking and simultaneously cringed at yourself.  You were so awkward!

You texted back and forth for a while before your plane started to board and you were forced to turn off your phone.

Traveling with no luggage was the best. No baggage claims or trying to fit bags into the overhead compartment. Literally just had a mini backpack you could shove under your seat.

And your flight only had one crying baby. They settled down after an hour or so. Tuckered out most likely. You were sure the poor parent with them was just as relieved as everyone else, if not more. You felt bad for them.

In your row was just a young girl and her father. They quietly talked while watching cartoons on her pink tablet. And the girl was in the middle so you didn't feel as squished as you usually would.

You even managed to relax back into your seat and let the background noise of the plane become a pleasant hum, closing your eyes and managing a light on and off sleep to kill time.

In between naps you played offline games and read on your phone, even interacting with the little girl next to you when she seemed to get fidgety and bored with her cartoons. Her dad snored softly beside her.

Overall, the flight was long, but entertaining enough to not bore you to tears. You were still relieved to be walking when you finally landed and were allowed to deplane.

You never flew or really went on trips anywhere. But somehow this airport felt more comfortable and familiar. More like home. Maybe because this is the airport you grew up near. The one you stood with your mom at while waiting for your dad to get back from a business trip. The one you toured and got to go behind the scenes in when you were in Girl Scouts. The one all over the news when that meth head went crazy and started screaming through the terminals, security chasing after him.

This is where you lived and graduated from. You learned to drive on these streets and went to a nearby hospital when you fell off your bike while learning to ride a 2-wheeler. Your grandfather took you, lecturing you the entire time about the proper way to ride and what you did wrong, but being so gentle when he carried you in, even when you said you could walk.

Its where your family is buried.

Leaving this place behind was bittersweet for you. You would miss it, but you were also moving toward a huge and amazing adventure. With your soulmates.

Your mother said you were lucky. It had been 5 generations since your family had had someone born with a soul mark. And you had 8 soulmates. Anytime you felt lonely or sad as a child she would remind you that there were 8 people out there waiting for you. Whose souls called for and matched yours like puzzle pieces. It never failed to cheer you up. And even when she was gone, you would remember her words during hard times and feel less alone in this big world.

Your phone chirped repeatedly with new messages as you waited for your ride home. While you stood off to the side and in plain view, you read over the messages and realized that they kept using the group chat to talk to each other. It made you smile. You were still kept in the loop, and it felt good. They still wanted you to know what was going on and be a part of their days.

You continued to text through your ride home and freshening up. Until you could no longer keep your eyes open. They popped in and out of chat as they got busy with things and couldn't text

You were shocked you lasted as long as you did. As soon as you unlocked your door the weariness hit you like a ton of bricks, and you didn't even bother to unpack anything from you bag before cleaning up and crawling into bed.

The first week didn't necessarily fly by, but it didn't drag either. The pain and emptiness from being so far from your soulmates was a constant ache that you could never escape from. And you often found yourself staring off into space and rubbing your chest above the ache, trying to ease it as best you could. It was worse at night when you were lying in bed trying to sleep. There was nothing to distract yourself then and, in the end, it made it so you didn't sleep very well. Often giving up and getting up to pack some more instead. You were trying to get done quickly anyway.

As you expected, your job fired you immediately when they heard your lack of explanation. How were you supposed to explain your sudden disappearance for days? It's not like you could tell them you were kidnapped!

But in the end, it worked out for you. Now you could leave as soon as your apartment was packed up and sold off. Get back to the others faster.

You didn't tell them. You weren't sure how quickly you could finish, and you didn't want the anticipation to make things worse than they already were. It was so hard being away from them. Being alone again. And you had only had them for a very short time. Truly, your entire existence is altered when you meet your soulmates. How does anyone ever resist the bond?

You only kept the most irreplaceable and sentimental things. Including your K-pop memorabilia that you spent so much money on over the years. You couldn't part with it. You packed everything tightly and securely in boxes and shipped it to the apartment in Korea. It was much cheaper and easier than trying to get everything onto the plane. Everything else was sold, donated, or thrown away.

You notified anyone who needed it that you were moving, closed accounts, paid off remaining bills, etc. Even as busy as you were, the ache was always in the forefront of your mind.

You spend all day and night in the chat group. It was your lifeline to your boys. Even if you had nothing to say other than letting them know what you just packed up or canceled. Or sending a random picture or meme when you were taking a break.

The deeper conversations where you got to know each other happened when one side was in bed for the evening. Feeling secure and safe in their beds under the covers and willing to open up and be more vulnerable.

Also, later when everyone over there was asleep but insomniac Chan and you two switched over to one-on-one conversations in order to not blow up everyones phone while they were trying to sleep.

Finally, you were at the airport and more than ready to get back to your soulmates.

You still hadn't told anyone you were coming home. But only because you looked when you changed your ticket and realized you were on the same flight home as Hyunjin and Felix when you switched flights at your layover. You wanted to surprise them.

Granted you weren't going to be able to talk to each other or sit anywhere near each other since they were in first class. And you needed to be careful that no one found out you knew each other and made the connection before your perfectly created story had the chance to be aired. But you were still going to be closer than you had been in over a week.

The teasers and wind up to the reveal would start tomorrow. You would be taking partial photos with each member to post to their account with very carefully worded hints into finding their 9th and final soul bond member. Each member would take their own photo, and you would work with them on how and when to post it to keep STAY and the media guessing and craving more. And you were working with staff to create a cute, cozy little, meet cute, coffee/book shop photo shoot for the reveal photos. Plus, your one kids' room type of introduction video will be recorded soon.

Somehow you were nervous about seeing everyone again. Everything seemed fine in the messages. It was easy and flowed nicely. What if it wasn't as comfortable, as open in person as you were in texts, and it became awkward?

And it meant really starting your new life. Getting into the new job and letting the world see Stray Kids soul bond group for the first time all together.

When they saw you at the terminal, Felix almost ran right to me, but Hyunjin stopped him and pointedly looked around them at the hundreds of phones from STAY, recording everything they did. Felix looked so disappointed when he realized.

You had joined the crowd of STAYs swooning over and recording Hyunlix. Screaming at the top of your lungs and trying to get closer, jumping excitedly.

They were both trying to watch you without watching you and failing to hide their laughing. Hyunjin even snapped a photo, pretending it was of the crowd at large but aimed at you.

Hey, you are a fan, and you had done a marvelous job at not fangirling all over them when you first met, so you were going to take this opportunity while you could. Too bad all 8 of them weren't here, so you could really get it out of your system.

You watched as Felix and Hyunjin both worked their way down the barrier of fans. Making hand hearts and pausing for photos. You expected Felix to grab your hand briefly like he had several others and move on, but instead he grabbed your phone, shocking you.

He gestured you forward with a laugh, flipping the camera on your phone to selfie mode and leaning in close to you. Giddy and still in fangirl mode, you squeal and lean in, giving your phone a half heart to complete the one he was doing. He snapped the photo and handed you the phone back, brushing your fingers as he did, and gave you a wide smile and wink before moving on.

As he passed the STAYs around you crowded closer to see the photo and you proudly show it off, tears building in your eyes from excitement.

Hyunjin was slightly less subtle. He didn’t take a selfie with you, but he did lace your fingers together in the air for a bit longer than strictly necessary. And he didn’t lace his fingers with any other fan either. He squeezed your hand and made direct eye contact before moving on. Your fangirl heart was fit to burst.

You smiled at Hyunjin and Felix one more time as they boarded before everyone else. Celebrity treatment. You wouldn’t be able to be anywhere near them on the flight, but it soothed something in the space you associated with your soul mate bond in your chest just to have them near you again. To know that they are close after so long.

This flight wasn’t quiet. There were several crying children who never quieted down, and at least one small yapping dog that the owner just let bark the entire time. And it smelled like wet dog throughout the whole cabin. You were in the middle seat between a man who smelled like a bar and woman who used an entire bottle of perfume. And both hogged the armrests. Halfway into the flight the woman removed both her shoes and socks and proceeded to cross her legs and pick at some kind of green fungus on her toenails. You wanted to vomit.

You were so ready to get off the plane you broke plane etiquette and almost ran off the plane and through the airport to the exit. You got absolutely no sleep, had a massive headache from the smells, and was exhausted from the whole disgusting ordeal.

A car was waiting to pick up a passenger right outside the airport, so you didn’t even need to wait. You gave the driver the address and leaned back in the seat with a sigh, closing your eyes.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

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