Killers Comforting An Anxious Reader Who Can't Sleep.

Killers comforting an anxious reader who can't sleep.

I'm going through a rough time right now, and so I wrote this to try and help.

...

Jeffrey

He could tell that you were restless, tossing and turning every ten minutes in the space beside him. He knew that you had been particularly distracted this evening, lost in thought and gazing out into space. When he asked, you hadn't said anything reassuring, just that you were "fine"... Which was bull crap.

By the time you sat up straight in bed, Jeffrey turned his head over and asked firmly, "Is there any damn reason why you're actin' like a tied up hog boughta' be burned alive?"

You startled at his voice, your body slumping in shame as you ran a tired hand over your face, "I'm sorry, Jeff. I didn't mean to keep you awake."

"It ain't no apology I'm after," Jeffrey sat up a bit, reaching out to coax you against him, "Why ya not sleepin', prince/princess."

Leaning into his warmth, you unconsciously snuggle against Jeffrey's side, seeking security in his large, soft form. "I just... I guess I just keep worrying about the thing." You admit quietly, shivering.

Jeffrey huffed, knowing exactly what "thing" you were talking about. "Well stop," He barked lightly, rubbing your back and side soothingly, "Ya can't get nothin' done if ya keep overwhelmin' yourself for no damn reason."

"I know," You whisper, pressing your face against the top of his belly, "You're right."

Jeffrey brushed his fingers through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck. "Hey? Wanna be my teddy-bear?" He asked.

You whimpered, fluttering your lashes at him hopefully, "Just for a little bit? Please..."

"As if I could resist them puppy eyes," Jeffrey sighed in exaggeration, straightening his pillows behind him and leaning back, giving you easier access to straddle his lap.

Once you were in his lap, you immediately leaned against Jeffrey, belly to belly and nudging your face underneath his chin. It was the coziest, safest, most wonderful place you could ever be, and when he wrapped his arms around you to massage your back while planting soft kisses against your forehead, you found yourself relaxing in utter loving bliss.

"No more'a this anxious shit, ya hear?" He grumbled at you.

You smiled warmly, hugging him tightly, "I hear you. Thank you, Jeffrey."

Herman

He woke up to the sensation of you tossing and turning repeatedly, the sound of your breathing irregular and uneven. When he heard a rather exhausted sigh, he turned over and asked in concern, "My love? Is something wrong? Are you alright?"

"O-oh, I'm fine," You answer quickly, "Did I wake you? I'm sorry, I-I'll try not to move anymore."

"It's alright, no need to apologize," Herman sat up a bit and scooted closer to you, one arm reaching out to pull you against him, "Will you tell me what is troubling you?"

Can't get anything past Herman. You whimpered, falling victim to his soft, loving kisses as he rubbed expert hands over your back and shoulders. "I... It's about the thing. I'm... I'm just afraid that somethings gonna go wrong."

Herman hummed, placing a kiss against your cheek. He knew that what you were going through was difficult and stressful, and that anxiety was a significant side effect. "Try not to overthink too much, my sweet," He turned your head to look him in the eye, his expression full of passion and love.

"You can do this," He said, his tone reassuring, "You're one of the strongest people I know. I have faith in you. Perhaps you should try having some faith in yourself too, hm?"

Leaning into his warm, safe hands, you close your eyes and nod, saying gratefully, "Thank you, Herman."

"Of course," Herman kissed you gently, murmuring against your cheek, "Now... How might I be of service to help get your mind of this ordeal?"

"Hold me? Please?" You timidly ask.

Herman smiled and brushed a hand through your hair, saying fondly, "Anything for my beautiful angel."

As Herman laid on his side, you shuffle forward and bury yourself against him, instantly inhaling his familiar, comforting scent. A big arm wrapped around you, holding you close. He was so safe. You sigh, remembering his motivational words and praise.

"You can do this," Herman kissed your forehead, tilting your head up for confirmation, "Hm?"

You smile at him in loving appreciation and nod, "I can do this."

Jason

He's generally a light sleeper, so when he feels you begin to get restless beside him, he's onto you immediately, checking to see if you were alright.

"What?" You whimper, confused about the worried expression on your partner's disfigured but beautiful face, "Is everything alright?"

Having got it backwards, Jason scooted to the edge of the bed to grab his pen and messy notebook from the nightstand. Turning on the lamp and sitting up straight, he wrote down a question and lifted it out for you to read, "Nightmare?"

Squinting your eyes, you read his sloppy writing and shake your head, saying in exhausted reassurance, "No. No nightmares. Sorry for worrying you. I just... I just keep thinking about the thing I have to do and now I... can't sleep."

Hearing your defeated sigh, Jason felt his heart wilt. He knew that what you were going through right now was immeasurably stressful and honestly kind of scary. He wasn't happy about it either. He wrote down, "Want to talk?"

You smile at him and go to hold his large hand, squeezing it fondly, "Nah, I'm just... I'm just a little scared is all. Those people I have to deal with... I don't like them."

Jason nodded in understanding, taking a fine minute to write a response, "Dont be scared. I will be with you. They cant hurt you."

Warmth filled your chest as well as your cheeks as you read his note with happiness and love. Jason truly was your greatest star. You look at him, your hands reaching up to hold his face. "Thank you, Jason, so much," You whisper softly.

Addicted to your gentle touch, Jason tossed his notebook and pen aside and went to scoop you into his arms. He loved you so much and he would always, always be there for you. This wasn't something you had to handle alone.

As the tension bled from your body, Jason coaxed you into laying back down. From there he pressed himself right up against you and pulled you against his chest, his love and warmth enveloping you eternally.

Freddy

Freddy was the mastermind of sleep. He was always using his powers to suck you into blissful dreams and/or simple darkness, assuring that you got the best rest possible, but tonight? Tonight you were actively breaking through his power.

Having woken up from the feel of your restlessness, Freddy attempted to pull you back into sleep only to realize that you were literally too overwhelmed to sleep. So, with a growl, he rolled over, crawled on top of you and pinned you to the bed.

"Restless aren't we, baby?" He mumbled, looking into your wide, tired eyes, "Mind tellin' me why?"

Having been caught off guard, you shuffled beneath him, testing his light grip on your wrists but not fighting against it. "I'm sorry... I'm just having trouble," You admit sadly, sagging into the bed.

Freddy tilted his head, raising a suspicious brow at you, "Is it because of that shit you gotta put up with tomorrow?"

You frowned at him, your gaze drooping off to the side. "I know I'm gonna be so tired. I really don't wanna go," You whine, almost on the verge of tears from the stress, anxiety and emotional chaos, "I hate this so much."

Softening his approach, Freddy let go of your wrists and leaned down to cup your face. "Normally I'd tell you to skip chores, but this... This is different, baby," He kissed your jaw, making a line up your cheek to your forehead, "I fuckin' hate it too, but it's gonna be worth it in the end. But you know what you need to be able to beat these bitches? Sleep."

Pouting like a scolded puppy, you hold onto Freddy's shoulders as he continued fondling your body and kissing your face. "I know... I just don't know what to do to stop thinking about it," You sigh, wishing that you could snap your fingers and zap the anxiety from your brain.

"Oh..." Freddy leaned back and smirked at you maliciously, "Oh, baby, I got just the solution."

About thirty minutes later, Freddy was successful in pulling your blissfully distracted mind into the dream world. Then he covered you up and pulled you close to cuddle. If only you knew how much he loved you and believed in you. You could do this. He knew you could.

Freddy didn't fall for the weak ones.

Wesker

He awakens to the sound of feather-light sniffles and the smell of salty tears, and so he slowly sits up, running a hand through his ruffled hair as he gazes at you in slight concern. "(y/n)?"

You jerked, gasping and going to throw your legs over the edge of the opposite side of the bed. "O-oh, you're awake. I-I'm sorry, Albert, I-I didn't mean to disturb you," You say quickly, terrified that he'd learn of your tears and judge you.

As you go to stand up to let him have his peace, a firm hand landed on your shoulder and kept you in place, "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," You fight to keep your voice from cracking or sobs spilling out. You just needed to be alone for a bit. "Please, go back to sleep. I'm fine."

"You're crying," Wesker pointed out, his voice monotonous and unreadable as always, but there may have been a hint of worry inside. "Why?"

Oh God, he knew. He knew that you were crying and now he was going to judge you. He saw your weakness and now he probably hated you. And you had no good excuse. Wesker dealt with problems far more intense than this, and he never cried. God, you were pathetic.

When you wouldn't answer, Wesker stood up and walked around the bed, standing tall before you. Reaching down, he grasped your chin in a gentle grip and coaxed you to look up. Once he saw the sparkling tears in your eyes, the way you flinched and tensed at his touch and how you stared at him with horror, Wesker crouched down in front of you and went to hold your hands.

"Is this about your thing tomorrow?" He asked, his voice gentle.

You whined, your lips curling with overwhelming emotions. "Yes... I'm not ready. I-I'm not ready to handle all of it yet. I'm not strong like you... I'm just a dumb, useless crybaby."

Wesker reached up and cupped your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your tear stained cheek, "You will preform remarkably, (y/n). I know you will. And it is okay to cry. I'm here."

Feeling the ultimate collapse of emotional weight inside you, you fell to the floor in front of Wesker, your arms thrown around him as you held him close. Wesker held you back, and continued to hold you for as long as you needed.

Killer reactions to a reader who had their pants pulled down while they were on a hook. (Part two).

Evan

He heard one of his traps being dismantled near where you were hooked and swiftly went to investigate. He had imagined your team mates would have pulled you off by the time he arrived, but... Apparently not.

"No, no- stop!" He heard you shout, turning the corner just in time to see Jake tearing your pants and underwear down to your ankles. You were struggling and shouting, trying desperately to cover your naked crotch.

Rage boiled deep inside his gut at the disrespectful, offensive display. How dare Jake treat one of his own members this way.

Releasing a loud, bear like growl, Evan chased after the unsuspecting coward, cornering him into a trap and killing him. By the time he passed by your hook, he heard you crying softly and slowed in his tracks. For some reason, he didn't know why, he couldn't find it in himself to just leave you like this...

Turning around, he kept his head lifted and slowly approached you. At the sight of him, you flinched and cried harder, and it put a rod in his chest. "Want me to pull em up for ya?" He asked as calmly as he could manage.

You sniffled, looking at him in baffement and humiliation, your voice a quiet whisper, "Yes please."

Evan did it fast, stepping up to you and leaning down to pull your pants up. Once he was done, he took in your humiliated stance and reached out to gently cup your chin and tilt your head up, "I'm sorry they done this to ya, but it ain't so bad."

He brushed your cheek gently for a moment before letting go and turning away, "Keep your head up, darlin'."

Max

Everyone knew that he was an extremely sensitive person, and some times people tried to take advantage of that- like the times when survivors would flirt with him or get in suggestive poses; they knew he couldn't handle it without getting flustered and angry, his ability to focus shattered.

But this... This was different.

"Oh Max," Kate had whistled, "(y/n) here has something they wanna show you." And then she yanked your pants and underwear down.

Max had immediately flinched and gone to cover his eyes, the sound of your loud, horrified screaming causing him to hurt on the inside. Why were they doing this? You were hooked, they should be helping you, not... Not this.

Unable to look at you, Max took in the sounds of your loud cries, whimpers and whines and realized that this wasn't something you were purposely a part of. Your team mates were taking advantage of you like they constantly tried to take advantage of him, and he could tell how much it was bothering you.

Officially too shy to even look at you while you were half naked, Max ran off and did his best to kill Kate and the other two survivors. At the end he found you hiding by the shack, the hatch just a few meters behind him.

Dropping his chainsaw and hammer, Max stood aside and gestured to the hatch. It took you a few minutes, but you finally came walking out, your body tense, shaky and nervous. You couldn't make eye contact with him.

"Thank you," You whimpered gratefully, "I-I'm sorry about the..."

Max shook his head and uttered a soft growl. When you looked at him with a smile, he blushed and closed his eyes. For the first time, he wasn't flustered.

Ji-woon

He returned after hearing excessive screaming from where you were hooked, his chest flaring in anger at the thought of someone touching what was soon to be his. He worried that you might be being assaulted, and when he arrived at your hook, he cursed in Korean at the sight of you.

Your pants and underwear had been pulled down, and you were panicking in a struggle to cover yourself. Ji-woon saw red. "Who did this?" He demanded to know as he sprinted up to you.

You gasped, crying harder as you shook your head and looked away, utterly humiliated and afraid, "Élodie did it."

That monster. "Did she touch you?" Ji-woon asked, his teeth baring in dangerous rage.

Relief flooded him when you shook your head, but still... This was unacceptable. "I'll pull them up, yes?" He softened his voice while gesturing to your pants.

"Please." You whimpered, shaking lightly as he bent down and pulled your pants up.

Once that was done, Ji-woon looked at you and smiled, one hand slowly reaching up to cup your cheek. "I promise," He grinned at you with an almost endearing, psychotic blush, "I will get you revenge."

And then off Ji-woon went, leaving you in a pit of shock. Later after you got unhooked, you would discover Élodie's hooked body mutilated and... Pantsless. Revenge achieved.

Pinhead/Elliot Spencer

Elliot wouldn't deny that he had preferences. You weren't very far up on his list of favorite survivors to torture, and more often than not he subconsciously allowed you to escape him. But some times there were trials where he had to hook you at least once to please the Entity.

This was one of those trials.

Having sensed odd commotion from the area you were hooked, he went to investigate only to go immobile in shock and disbelief that soon melted into pity and frustration. The other survivors had pulled your pants down thus leaving you exposed, humiliated and vulnerable.

Whenever you noticed his presence, you brutally shook your head in embarrassment, anger and shame, your hands trembling as they covered your privates. You refused to look at him, your shoulders hitching with small, quiet cries.

Rules be dammed, Elliot lifted his arms out, summoned four chain/hooks and carefully used them to grab hold of the edges of your pants. You startled at this but otherwise remained still, watching the hooks with breathless awe as they worked your pants back up your legs.

Yanking your pants up the rest of the way yourself, the hooks around you disappeared with a clatter. Elliot stared at you with his usual monotony, observing the nervous yet grateful expression on your face as you offered him a timid, thankful wave. Hmp.

Elliot left with a light smirk. Perhaps now you would be more open to accept his offers of pleasure.

Wesker

When he finds you, all he can do is stand there and stare. You were one of the more efficient survivors- one that always gave him a run for his money. To see you this unhinged, this defeated and vulnerable... It, well...

It made him furious. Compared to you the other survivors were ants, and the fact that they felt the need to take advantage of you in such a state made his blood boil. How dare they.

"Stop staring at me," You screamed at him, your face flushed, body shaking and hands covering your exposed crotch.

Blinking behind his sunglasses, Wesker mentally shook himself from his thoughts and slowly began to walk forward, "My, my... I didn't take you as one to so easily break under pressure."

"Go away- don't come any closer," You shouted, your voice so passionate and defensive and true.

God, you had no idea what kind of effect you had on him. Wesker smirked, "You know, requesting help is not a crime. You should be smarter than that."

At that, you had gone silent, your eyes on him and filled with distrust, embarrassment and anger. For a few seconds you were hesitant, but then you quietly mumbled, "Will you help me? Please..."

It took all of his effort not to grin. "Since you asked nicely," He nearly closed the space between you as he bent down and pulled your pants up. "I must say," He whispered lowly, looking you in the eye, "You are exquisite in more ways than one, (y/n)."

Pyramid Head/The Executioner

He's good at reading auras even from far away, so when he hears a shout and senses your ill distress, he follows. And soon he comes to the wild scene of you frantically trying to cover your naked crotch while Nea and Nancy raced away in a hurry.

They had pulled your pants down, he realized with a swell of empathy. You weren't the only victim of this particular method of humiliation and immaturity. Many times now the survivors had taken advantage of his lack of speed and succeeded in pulling his own pants down.

You had never done anything like that to him before though. In fact you were a rather kind, modest person- a rare one that he envied and respected. Just like him, you didn't deserve this type of childish torment.

As he walked forward, constantly emitting monstrous growls, you trembled and shook your head, stuttering in fear, "N-no please. Stay-stay away, please. I'm sorry- just please... Stay away."

And when he was right in front of you, you really began to panic, "No please! I'm sorry, please. Please stay away. No!"

Using one hand, the Executioner grabbed an edge of your pants and sloppily drug them up until you were able to reach them yourself. Once you had them back over your hips, he stepped away and quietly observed you.

You bore an expression of gratitude and surprise, your eyes glossy as you gaped at him, "Thank you."

Nodding once, the Executioner left you in search for Nea and Nancy. Don't worry (y/n), he was going to get you some revenge. Maybe later you both could share your stories.

(A big thanks to the lovely EroismPro and Enigma-System for helping me choose what killers to use- give momma Weirdo some smooches you two, *mwah*, I love you! Also, shout out to any other interested viewers, I'm happy to make a part three, so if you want then just leave a comment on which killer you'd like to see in here. Thank you so much for reading).

Fanart of Jason Voorhees from my fic Battle of the Imaginary Minds.

Another commission for Semi_Weird_Shipper.💕 This is a painting of Jason for her fic Battle of the Imaginary Minds. One of my favorite fics that I recommend.🤗 ⭐https://archiveofourown.org/works/19892938/chapters/47117080

Not for Sale Do NOT repost Copyright© 2022 EroismPro18. All rights reserved Original character belongs to their rightful owners.

Hello loves! So I've been writing cute little drabbles here on Tumblr about the killers taking care of a reader on their period. The layout is fairly simple. Basically the reader and killer live in a house together (not in the Dead By Daylight realm) and are already in a relationship. So far I've written about Jeffrey and Herman.

And I'd like to give you loves a chance to vote for who I should write next. Down below is a list of killers I'm willing to write.

Michael Myers

Evan MacMillan

Frank Morrison

Caleb Quinn

Bubba Sawyer

Freddy Krueger

Rin Yamaoka

Sally Smith

Julie Kostenko

Jason Voorhees

Pyramid Head/The Executioner

Pinhead

Max Thompson

Ji-Woon Hak

The drabbles will be simple and sweet. Romantic but not smutty. As always, they're for emotional support. Depending on the killer, some of them will be silly, serious or sappy. I hope you'll enjoy.

Jeffrey Hawk/The Clown taking care of a reader on their period.

He knew there was something up. Last night you had tossed and turned for hours on end, even going so far as to leave the bed and lay on the couch to "not bother him as much". Pfft. You should know better than to think that way. The only thing that bothered Jeffrey was when you made wrong and unnecessary assumptions about him. It was as if you expected the worst out of him. But he wouldn't get frustrated with you over this for he knew exactly what was going on.

Jeffrey had woken up before you, hauling himself out of bed to go fix breakfast and watch TV. He knew that, after such a difficult night, you needed the rest, and it was best to let you recuperate. The day could start later. However, on a trip to the restroom, he decided to stop and check in on you, his grey-blue eyes taking in the sight of your uncovered body bathing in the morning glow of sunshine penetrating through the curtains. You were so beautiful and cute, your mouth parted open, hair messy, arms strung out and feet tangled in the blankets. Your peaceful aura brought joy to his broken world.

He continued to gaze at you in simple admiration until the sight of something dark glistened within the morning sun. He huffed in suspicion and waltzed into the room, his eyes squinting as he looked down at the splotches of red in between your thighs. Oh boy. He sighed, noting that your underwear was soaked as well as the sheets beneath you. Welp, looks like you were going to be boss of the house for a while.

Minor aggravation coursed through Jeffrey's nerves as he quietly stomped off to start you a warm bath. He wasn't aggravated with you or the situation by any means, but he did have a feeling that this was going to be a problem for you. You were already so skittish, insecure and doubtful around him in general, constantly apologizing and panicking over the simplest things. Waking up to this? He just knew that you were probably going to freak out and overreact. You might cry too. Ugh... He hated seeing you cry.

After starting the water and grabbing a spare towel, Jeffrey returned to the bedroom and approached you on the bed. Carefully he seated himself on the mattress, his head turning back to take in your slumbering form. Dang it. He really didn't want to disturb you. He sighed, his hand reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. "Hey... Hey, bunny, wake up," He mumbled, stroking your cheek. "Wake up now."

"Mm?" Came your endearing reply, little, tired whimpers filling the air as you roused, eyes blinking open goofily. "Jeffrey?" You whispered, your sleepy tone just so adorable and sweet. He could eat you up in a heart beat.

"Hey bunny," He coughed a little while leaning down, his hand brushing your cheek before allowing you to take his hand, "How're you feeling?"

You blinked gorggily and hummed, your mouth opening with a yawn, "Mmm... Still tired." As you began to stretch, Jeffrey suddenly released your hand and went to place a palm on your thigh, stilling you into confusion, "What-"

"Try not to move too much, m'k?" He whispered in a somewhat hushed voice, his palms rubbing soothing circles into your thighs as he tried to pull a funny face, "I think the captain here's sailing 'cross the red sea."

"Huh?" You rasp in confusion at his confusing joke before the familiar terms hit you at bullet speed, and you were jerking yourself upwards far enough you could look down between your legs. And that's when the horror settled in.

"Now, now," Jeffrey began, pointing a firm expression your way before you started going haywire. "Don't you dare go off them rails, ya hear? This ain't nothin' to worry about, got it?"

"Oh no," You gasp, you're conscience overrun with mortification. You had started your period. You had started your period on Jeffrey's bed. How disgusting could you be? And he had caught you. He was right here in front of you witnessing it. Oh God, he must be furious. You had contaminated his personal belongings with your nasty human filfth, and now he was probably going to throw you out like the unleashed dog you were. "I... I..." Your eyes began to water.

"Damn it, (y/n), I said don't worry," Jeffrey sighed in visual frustration and stood up, his big arms lifting outwards towards you. "Up," He demanded, wiggling his fingers at you, "Come on."

"I-I'm sorry," You whined, one hand going to cover your eyes while the other clenched up in the sheets, "I'm so sorry..."

"For God's sake, quit apologizin'. I ain't mad; you know that," He grumbled, tossing the towel at you. "Here, wrap yourself with this. I got the bath runnin' for ya. Hurry an' get in there before it overflows."

You took the towel with a small speckle of uncertainty, your watery eyes looking at him with sad wonder. He wasn't mad? And he had made you a bath? You sniffled, your humiliated, terrified heart scrambling around in a ball of worry inside your chest. "Thank you, Jeffrey," You whisper, unable to face him as you grab the towel with shaky hands and go to wrap it around your waist. "I-I promise I-I'll clean this up. N-new sheets and everything, I promise, I-"

As soon as you stood up, Jeffrey pressed two fingers against your lips and wheezed, his scowl small yet teasing, "Do I needa' glue your mouth shut?"

You bowed your head at him in shame. Jeffrey sighed in huge exaggeration and pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you and holding you against his side, "Quit mopin', alright? The only crime you've committed is raisin' my water bill."

You scoffed, glaring at him from where your face lay happily smooshed against his pecks. He chuckled and ruffled your messy hair playfully, "I need'a redecorate anyway. Same ol' sheets get boring to look at all the time."

"I really don't mind cleaning it up," You whimpered, gazing at your bloody mess with shame and misery, "I know I'm disgusting..."

"And I don't mind spankin' your ass ya say somethin' like that one more time," Jeffrey growled, glaring unhappily at you in the hopes that you would understand that he wasn't in the mood to tolerate your obnoxious doubts and insecurities. Whenever you looked away in further despair, he sighed, hugged you tight and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead. "Get in there b'fore the tub overflows. Leave your clothes on the sink. Got it, sunshine?"

"Yeah," You replied quietly, your body absorbing his tender affections as he held you close for a few seconds longer.

"Now scat," Jeffrey gave you a small push, ushering you away so that he could take care of the blankets and sheets.

Stuck in a cloud of humiliation, you followed his orders and went to the bathroom, abruptly turning off the facet water before shedding your shirt, shorts and underwear. You sat the stained clothing on the sink as he requested and went to dip yourself into the fresh, clean tub, loving satisfaction buzzing through you as you enjoy the soothing temperature. Jeffrey always knew just what you liked. You were lucky to have him.

"Wastin' my water..." Jeffrey sighed in exasperation as he entered the bathroom to grab your dirty clothes, his eyes lingering on your shy figure lying cozily in the tub. You were so damn beautiful to him, even on your bad days.

"Really?" You groaned, knowing that he was obviously teasing you. He was always cracking silly jokes, trying to make you feel guilty about random things you would never feel guilty about. Over the months you had grown used to it, simply rolling your eyes every time he teased, but you wouldn't deny the fondness you felt towards his ridiculous jokes.

Jeffrey chuckled and asked, "Want me to cook ya breakfast?"

You fumbled nervously, unconsciously feeling bad for nodding, "Yes please?"

"What'a ya want?" Jeffrey coughed, purposely playing around with your dirty underwear and earning himself an attack of water being flicked his way. "Hey, I said no wastin' water. Jesus, you're tryin' to ring me dry."

"Oh stop it," You bark, rolling your eyes. See? A tease. You smiled at him and requested what you desired eating for breakfast, your heart drumming with content as he agreed to have it ready by the time you got dressed.

Before he left the bathroom, he made sure that you had everything you needed. Clean clothes, pads, your hairbrush and a fresh towel. He also brought you a cup of your favorite morning beverage along with some menstrual medication. Later on he would go to the store to stock up on some more of your monthly needs, but you might have to write it all down on paper for him. He wouldn't make you go anywhere when you were feeling like this.

After you were finished with your bath, you got dressed and did your morning bathroom routine before making way for the kitchen, the sight of the fresh bed sheets sending a warm tremor through your heart. How could you ever want for anyone greater? Did a greater person exist? The smell of breakfast outlined your precious feelings as you wandered into the kitchen, your fingers pressing together over your aching belly as you approached the man sitting at the dining table.

"Feelin' better?" Asked Jeffrey, his mouth twitching as he took one last drag off a cigarette before crushing it in the ash bowl.

"Mhm, thank you," You almost came close to apologizing again but paused immediately on account of the fact that Jeffrey did not like it when you apologized too much. So you settled for walking up beside him, your hands going to wrap around his shoulders, your face forming into a pout, "My tummy still hurts."

"Well tell it to stop," Jeffrey wheezed while waving the lingering smoke away as he pulled you close to him, one large hand slipping up the front of your shirt.

You instantly uttered a deep, quiet moan of bliss, the feel of Jeffrey's large, warm, magnetizing hand rubbing your tender, aching flesh causing your toes to curl in bodily satisfaction. It felt so good. You sighed, hugging him against your chest, your throat nearly purring from how good it felt, the love he gave you. He kissed your neck, his hot breath sending a shudder through you.

"Darn thing, makin' me waste all this water and gas," Jeffrey grumbled, chuckling whenever you pushed on his head a little in frustration. "Can't even watch my favorite show. Know why?"

"Because I'm dis-"

"Cause I already got it right here in my arms," Jeffrey cut you off, one arm tightening around you in a manner of fondness, love and protection. "Best show I ever did see." You melted at that, your body sagging into him as if you were perfectly molded for each other. Inside your chest your heart fluttered in madness, consumed by the loving attention he continued to shower you with.

Jeffrey finished cooking you and himself breakfast, continously teasing and making ridiculous jokes. You were beginning to feel better although the aches and pressure still greatly lingered. Eating helped a bit, but the cramps restrained you from properly enjoying the delicious meal. A few times you had complained up until the point Jeffrey grabbed your mostly empty plates, scraped them and threw them in the sink before dragging you to the living room sofa, and from there he proceeded to do one of your favorite things ever.

Once Jeffrey had the TV turned on to his desired channel, he grabbed his soda and sat down on the couch, steadily reclining back into the beat-in cushions. From there he gazed up at you and shook his head in confusion, his arms gesturing you forward. "Well come on," He ushered.

Blushing, you timidly walked forward, your body erupting with a small tremor of excitement as you stopped before him. Gazing away, you carefully put a knee on the couch on one side of his thigh before quickly following suite with the other, straddling his strong thighs between your own smaller ones. "That's it, bunny," Jeffrey rubbed the back of your head, his hands gently coaxing you into leaning against him.

And you did.

With a happy whimper, you leaned forward, your belly and chest pressing against Jeffreys and leaving you with just enough room to lay your head against his thick, warm pecks. And yes, it was precisely as amazing as it sounded. Forget hot water bottles. Forget heating pads. Forget massager guns. Why would you need any of those things when you had literally all you could ever want and more right here?

You sighed pleasantly, your cramps feeling significantly less destructive while being snuggly pressed against him. "I gotcha," He whispered against the top of your head, kissing you as his hands caressed and massaged the areas of your body he knew often ached the worst. "I gotcha."

And he would always have you.

I need to write these three narcissistic, dangerous, intelligent A-holes in a fic together with a reader, like, soon.

Geez, just imagine the chaos.

Herman is the reader's primary care physician.

Hannibal is their psychiatrist.

And then Wesker can be their boss or something like that.

The reader is just trying to get by (definitely has suffered some kind of past trauma, possibly has a mental illness or maybe even some kind of disease. I don't know yet, but I'll find a way to make them unique), and they're going by without realizing that these three powerful men have feelings for them.

Imagine Hannibal learning that Wesker has something to do with the reader's stress, and so he goes to seek him out to kill and/or eat him only to discover that Wesker is much more intelligent and dangerous than he thought- and he too also has feelings for the reader. Oh, the irony.

Herman can be a step ahead of both A-hole 1 and 2 by using his professional, sappy charm to woo the reader into a dinner date or a walk in the park or something. (Writing this prince charming of a man is like drinking redbull- He gives me wings, baby!) And maybe one of the other two A-holes show up or do something dramatic to try and ruin their time. Hell, maybe Wesker and Hannibal work together to ruin the damn date, I don't know, but I'm bound to write something stupidly insane.

All three of them want the reader to themselves, but there's competition. What are they gonna do about each other without ultimately ruining the reader's happiness and trust? All three of them are extremely manipulative, so charming the reader is a breeze, but what about when the reader becomes overwhelmed because- hello!- their doctor, boss and psychiatrist are all each asking them on a date! Ahhhhhhh.

Gosh, the things I could do with this concept... I know, I know, I need to stop. I just figured that getting the idea out of my head this way would help me concentrate on updates that are actually important.

Thanks for listening to my goofy rambling, my loves. Maybe this idea could be something that blossoms into a story one of these days. We'll see.