#readers on her period

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Cramps and Cuddy

Summary: Reader goes to work despite feeling terrible and being on her period which is always rather bad for her. Luckily she gets help from Dr Cuddy who takes good care of her.

TW: nausea (no vomiting though), fainting, periods

Words: 3.5k

A/n NEW FANDOMMMMM also I’m alive. Just been … livin my best life :)

To say you felt bad was an understatement. Somewhere between the stress and busyness of your life as a doctor you had managed to only notice the absence of your period by the time it had been missing for four going on five months.

This happened to you sometimes. When you were stressed or overworked your period would take a vacation, but it would always be back with vengeance. The longer it was away the worse the force in which it came back with.

You honestly were considering calling out of work. Your mid section was rolling with cramps, and you felt vaguely nauseous, not to mention how heavy it was.

You cursed any god that would listen as you heard your phone ring, knowing it would be exactly the opposite of what you wanted, a day off.

Sucking in a breath, you snatched your phone off the bedside table and answered the call. Half expecting the voice to belong to your asshat of a boss, you were pleasantly surprised to hear from your boss's boss. Who was much sweeter and more palatable when you felt this terrible. However, that wouldn’t change the content of the call.

“Hello?” You answered still feeling exhausted which was reflected in your voice which was deeper and slightly more gravelly than normal despite the abundance of oestrogen in your body right now.

“Hey y/n.” Dr Cuddy’s voice sounded down the phone. “I saw your text asking to stay home today but I’m afraid house is out today probably causing misery elsewhere. I need you and the ducklings to come in to cover his caseload and clinic hours for today and possibly the rest of the week.” She said with a sigh of someone who was used to dealing with houses unexplained absences and unpredictable yet highly mapped schedule. It wasn’t a matter of organising it that was the issue, Cuddy mapped houses day down to bathroom breaks but it was more a matter of if he followed it, which was almost never to be precise.

“Alright.” You sighed steeling yourself to deal with getting ready. “When do you need me and what am I doing?” You asked.

“If it’s alright with you I wanted the ducklings to cover the tricky cases and you and I can split houses clinic hours so we should be done early.” She said sounding slightly apologetic for making you come in.

“Ok, when do you need me in?” You asked rubbing your palm to your eye as a headache began to press itself against your skull behind your eye socket.

“As soon as possible if you can.” Cuddy said sounding more guilty than apologetic now.

“Ok. See you in roughly twenty minutes Dr Cuddy.” You said before she bid her farewells and ended the call.

You spent around two of your twenty minutes staring at the wall opposite your bed and struggling to plan how you were going to survive clinic duty while feeling so awful yourself. But Cuddy needed you and you prided yourself on your work ethic and to blatantly refuse to help would only end with you laying in bed all day feeling guilty. Which, when mixed with hormones was never going to end any other way than with tears and self loathing.

Drawing a deep breath, you held it for a second and exhaled through your mouth. Steeling your nerves you stood up and the room spun for a second, but it steadied before you went crashing to the floor. Gritting your teeth you slowly begun to painstaking process of getting ready for work. You had to sit to brush your hair as standing too long made your head feel floaty and the room would start spinning.

After detangling your bedhead and applying some product you scrunched some mousse to keep the curls and threw on some scrubs. Looking slightly more presentable but still feeling atrocious, you grabbed your bus card opting not to drive to work today due to the pain you were in. Those two Panadol you had taken earlier doing nothing to help with the pain in your midsection.

One very rough bus trip later you stepped into the foyer and crossed the reception area to the lift. As you pressed the button and the doors closed, the lift lurched upwards. You reached blindly for the rail as it threw you off balance feeling slightly dizzy still and using your other hand to protect your midsection with tossed with nausea at the unexpected and sudden movements of the life.

When you stepped off onto the clinic floor you took a moment to slip on your doctor's face despite still looking a few shades to pale to be considered your normal pallor.

Approaching the nurse behind the desk she looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow before simply handing you a stack of files. You nodded at her thankfully, not feeling like you could open your mouth without spewing on the desk at this point and headed to an empty exam room.

You thumbed through the files and fought down another wave of nausea before feeling ready to take on your first patient of the day. Swollowing back the thick feeling in your throat you took a deep breath and called in your first for the day.

You hadn’t seen Cuddy yet, so she was most likely already busy with patients like you.

After seeing two or three people, you had already lost count due to the pounding in your head only exacerbated by the flickering fluorescent lights overhead, you stepped back into the waiting room. Your eyes locked with Dr Cuddy who had been handing a file to the nurse behind the desk. A whirlwind of emotions crossed her face upon see your state. Ranging from shock to worry to neutral. She said her thanks to the nurse and began to head over to you. Panicking you called for your next patient. And before Cuddy could pull you aside, she was waylaid by a panicked patient begging to be seen next. Something about a ringing noise that just wouldn’t stop.

By the time Cuddy looked back to where you had been you were gone along with your patient. The door to exam room one shut behind the both of you. Cuddy frowned but took the man into a room to deal with.

It was another half an hour before you saw her again. You had moved onto a new patient’s file when the door cracked open, and Cuddy poked her head in. She scanned the room before finding it empty bar yourself as she slipped inside and sat on the exam bed.

“Y/n.” She said her voice slightly stern.

“Yes Dr?” You said feigning ignorance to her disapproval.

“You shouldn’t be working; you look dead on your feet. How much sleep did you get last night? You should have told me you were sick, and I would have had Wilson cover for house while you got some rest.” She said crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m not sick. I’m fine. Just tired.” You said deflecting.

“You're squinting.” She said matter of factly.

“And?” You asked.

“You only do that when you have a headache or a migraine. The fact you’ve reread that file three times since I came in here leads me to believe it’s not a particularly gently one either. You have dark smudges under your eyes and wether you realise it or not your left hand is protecting your stomach. And since I know your note pregnant, your either nauseous or hungry and I saw you wrinkle your nose at the smell of a patients' granola bar, so I know it’s the former. You're fighting with your pen which you only do when your anxious and your tight posture tells me you're in pain. How far off am I?” She asked softly.

“And they call house the genius.” You scoffed and sunk your head into your hands. A second later you felt a gently hand rubbing up and down your back as you leant into it.

“You can’t be feeling well.” Cuddy said sympathetically before pausing her movements.

Gently she spun the chair around and pried your hands from your face, shielding them from the light with her left hand as she used the back of her right to gauge the temprature of your forehead.

“Darling, your warm.” She said.

“No, I’m tired.” You said feeling worse for making her worry.

“Who says you can’t be both.” She said softly. “You need to rest. I’m giving your clinic hours to Wilson.” She decided as she gently stroked your hair from your face with her manicured nails.

“Now, how about we start with how your feeling? What are your symptoms and how long have you been feeling this way?” She asked softly.

“Well, it all begun when I was fourteen and ever since I’ve been cursed to suffer each month for roughly three to six days.” You said and Cuddy frowned sympathetically.

“What are you feeling?” She asked keeping her voice low.

“Headache, light sensitivity, nausea, loss of appetite, cramps, lightheaded when I stand up and dizzy. Sometimes the rooms spinning when it shouldn’t be, and the smell of food makes me want to throw up. And it’s too warm.” You said and Cuddy looked worried.

“How about you rest in my office, and I’ll come check on you when I can. I’ll drive you home after my shift as your sure as hell in no state to get yourself home.” She said. “We can turn the lights out and turn the AC on to lower your temperature. Ok?” She asked.

You swallowed and nodded.

“Nauseous?” She asked and you nodded.

“Like you're going to be sick?” She asked and you paused for a second before shaking your head no. “Alright.” She said grabbing a sick bag from the cupboard anyway.

“‘M n’t gonna be sick.” You mumbled still clutching your mid section.

“Better safe than sorry love.” Cuddy said softly as she tucked the sickbag into her coat pocket. “You feel ready to move to my office yet?” She asked hovering nearby.

“No.” You deadpanned.

“Well, its either that or a stretcher and I’m pretty sure you don’t want that.” She joked, offering you her hand to take.

“I feel terrible.” You said shaking your head and accidentally making the room spin and tip. You groaned holding your head with one hand.

“Oh honey, come on you’ll feel better.” She said softly.

“Alright.” You said tentatively taking her hand as she gently pulled you to your feet. She tucked you into her side as you began to sway dangerously from side to side.

“Don’t pass out on me now.” She joked and you smiled slightly.

“Don’t tempt me. And I make no promises.” You said feeling worse with each step you took.

You were still tucked under Cuddy’s arm as she supported most of your weight as you passed the nurses station, drawing a few pairs of eyes as you went. Cuddy’s attentive gaze switched to her ‘Dean of medicine’ look as she challenged any of the onlookers to say something. They all went back to work as Cuddy let you into her office.

You felt awful, the short trip somehow taking what little energy you had left away from you.

You saw a small pile of files on the couch and Cuddy swore softly knowing she’d have to move them for you too lay down.

“Can you stand on your own for a second while I sort this out?” She asked sounding hesitant to leave you based on how much you were leaning on her for support.

“Mmhmm.” You said with a weak nod.

Cuddy hesitated but slipped out from your side. She watched as you swayed for a second and gave her a weak thumbs up. She chuckled with worry before quickly moving to sort out the couch.

While Cuddy fussed with the files you felt the colour draining from your face. Your head spun and began to float away as your vision went patchy. You felt your body began to drop before you fell into nothingness. The impact never reaching your unconscious mind.

While Cuddy cleared away the files she kept glancing back at you. Stopping when she saw the colour draining from your face as you swayed. She swore softly and quickly crossed the room as your body dropped.

Cuddy half leapt the last few steps towards you, getting to you just in time to wrap an arm around your torso and another under your head. She gently lowered you to the ground with your head resting in her lap as her legs were folded under her. Your face was extremely pale as she gently tapped your cheek to try and rouse you.

“Y/n? Y/n.” She repeated her concern growing by the second. She glanced at the clock taking note of the time, her doctor skills kicking in to time your episode.

After almost half a minute your eyes began to flutter. Cuddy gently stroked your cheek with one finger as she repeated your name.

Your eyes finally opened, and you groaned.

“Y/n? Are you with me?” She asked softly. You smacked your lips making Cuddy smile slightly despite her worry for you.

“Yeah, I think so.” You said with a frown.

“You think.” She teased softly.

“Mmm.” You hummed shutting your eyes again.

“Nope. Keep those eyes open for me love.” She said tapping your cheek. Your skin was still ghostly pale.

“What happened?” You groaned, ignoring Cuddy's request and keeping your eyes shut.

“You passed out.” She said softly. “Do you feel ready to move to the couch?” She asked. And you shook your head.

“Rooms spinni’g.” You said.

“Alright.” Cuddy frowned. “Can I pick you up?” She asked softly.

“You can try.” You said with a half chuckle.

Cuddy, with more ease than you were expecting, gently lifted you off the floor and set you down on her couch. You gave her a questioning look.

“Im stronger than I look.” She said brushing a curl from your face and frowning. “Your warm still.” She noted. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“Not going anywhere.” You groaned and she smiled despite her mounting worry for you.

Your eyes began to drift shut from the exhaustion.

Next thing you knew you felt someone’s thumb on your lip. Opening your eyes slightly, you saw Cuddy standing over you ask she pulled your lip down with her thumb and you opened your mouth as she stuck the thermometer under your tongue. With a gentle finger under your chin, she shut your mouth.

“Keep that there for a second alright?” She asked and you nodded. Eyes drifting shut again.

Cuddy pulled her chair over to sit next to the couch as she pulled out her laptop and balanced it on her knees.

“How are you feeling now?” She asked as she gently rubbed your bicep.

You looked at her with sad eyes and gave her a thumbs down with a shrug. Cuddy frowned and nodded.

“Let me know if you need anything, I’ll be right here, ok?” She said and you nodded before letting your eyes drift shut again.

Barely a second later you heard the thermometer beep, and you opened an eye to see Cuddy typing on her laptop with one hand while using the other to keep the thermometer in your mouth. You must have fallen asleep.

Cuddy looked up from her concentration on the third beep and gave you a soft smile seeing you awake. She gently took the device from between your lips and turned the small screen over. Her brows pinched as she read the number. 102.4 a high fever.

“Alright.” She said taking note of your flushed cheeks and pale face. “I’ll be right back.” She said and you nodded.

She returned a second later having grabbed an ice pack and cloth from the nurse's station. Gently she lifted your head with one hand and placed the ice pack wrapped in its cloth under your neck before lowering your head back down onto the pillow.

She paused looking you up and down and mentally cataloging your visible symptoms. “How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Terrible.” You responded bluntly.

“Are they usually this bad?” She asked.

“No. I’ve just been stressed, and I missed a month or five because of … I don’t even know … probably stress?” You said phrasing it almost like a question.

“You sure you're not pregnant?” She asked gently. You scrunched your nose at the question.

“Um… no way?” You said. Cuddy raised a brow at your tone.

“Are you sure?”

“Unless you can suddenly get pregnant without sex or a man, then yes I am.” You said and she nodded. “Im ace … and a lesbian. I doubt my equally ace girlfriend would be impressed if I was pregnant.” You said with a grin and Cuddy laughed.

“Yeah, that’ll be a definite no on the pregnancy question then.” She grinned.

At that moment a particularly sharp cramp hit, and you curled up slightly. Cuddy frowned as you screwed your eyes shut against the pain.

“I’m going to go find you some pain killers. I know I have some around here somewhere due to how much of a headache seems to follow ever visit from house.” She said and you nodded.

“I need to …” you said trailing off and cheeks flushing. “I need to change my pad.” You said with a burning blush.

“Alight. Do you have what you need?” She asked and when you stayed quiet, she added, “There are spare pads and tampons under the sink in my bathroom, help yourself.” She said and you nodded. “Do you need any help?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Maybe just to get there and back.” You added after a second, chewing on your lip.

Cuddy gently removed your bottom lip from between your teeth with her thumb and a tender almost motherly look as she helped you sit upright.

She took most of your weight as the two of you slowly walked to the bathroom. Once you made it there you thanked her and after she checked you were ok, shut the door.

You changed your pad and took mental stock of your body while looking yourself up and down in the mirror. You looked rough to put it nicely.

After taking a breath to gather yourself you opened the door. Cuddy walked back over from her desk and helped you back to the couch. You still felt dizzy, and Cuddy passed you an unscrewed bottle of water. You took it mumbling a thank you.

Cuddy studied you closely as you swayed slightly sitting up.

“If you pass out again, I’m admitting you, got it?” She said with a firmness in her voice that left no room for arguments.

You nodded and sipped the water. After barely any you tried to put it back but Cuddy stopped you.

“You need to stay hydrated.” She said guiding your hand with the bottle back to your lips. “Blood loss makes that especially important on your period.” She added and you sipped the water some more.

Feeling slightly less lightheaded you laid back down.

“Tired?” Cuddy asked. And you nodded.

“Yeah.” You whispered. “Tired and sore.” You agreed and Cuddy smiled down at you brushing the hair from your face.

“You’ll be alright. Take a nap. I’m going to do some work; I’ll be just over there.” She said pointing at her desk and you nodded, already drifting off.

Cuddy worked quietly, praying nobody would disturb her as you slept.

An hour passed, then two and Cuddy knew she had to wake you up soon to change your pad and have some more pain medicine.

Checking the time, she paged Wilson to bring a sandwhich and a wrap to her office. It was past lunch and you hadn’t eaten. She was hoping you’d be able to stomach some food despite your nausea.

Cuddy prepared some pain meds and cracked open another bottle of water before gently kneeling down beside you and rubbing your back.

“Y/n.” She whispered softly as your eyes fluttered open.

“Mmm.” You groaned stretching out like a cat in the sun and making Cuddy smile slightly.

“Time for meds and a bathroom break.” Cuddy said and you nodded. Taking the meds you stood, swaying before Cuddy stabilised you with an arm around your shoulders before helping you to the bathroom.

Whilst you changed your pad Wilson came and left the food with Cuddy, having been paged himself to tend to a patient.

After you and Cuddy had eaten with minimal issues you returned to resting on the couch feeling safe and well looked after you were able to drift off to sleep again. Knowing you’d be ok with Cuddy watching over you.

[fatalhoon]

ENHYPEN BF TEXTS — while you’re on your period

warnings | fem!reader, mentions of blood (obv), swearing and death jokes (again, the usual), nsfw in jakes (i couldn’t resist lmaoo), fluffy fluffy!! just enha being the greenest of flags

a.n | my first ot7 post!! once again this is purely self indulgent and just me coping with the fact i don’t have them to help me through my own :,)

[microwavablefork]

Something something Nikto who was raised in an extreme traditional household to the point that he has very poor knowledge of female bodily functions and anatomy.

Cut to him moving in with his sweet зайка and not understanding why you’re so pissed off with him now! He assumes you must be sulking over some frivolous thing, curling up in a blanket nest on the couch. Whining about your cramps; he marks it up to food poisoning, scolding you for eating seafood at that Chinese down the road again, much to your chagrin.

Imagine his horror when he smells blood in the bathroom. He immediately assumes the worst, panicking over your health, if you’re hurt, why you are bleeding or if there’s something else dying in the house. This is all, of course, followed by your sweet laughter as you try to explain what a period is to your brooding bear of a boyfriend (who’s holding an unopened pad like it’s diseased mind you) between tears of laughter.

[illovehaileesteinfeld]

domestic abby headcannons 💗

~ came up with these with the help of @scott1shabbyand3rson , thank you so much!!

sfw and nsfw ;

sfw :

this woman is DEFINITELY a cuddler. shed always have her head on your lap (or vise versa) if you were on the couch or if in public her arms would be around your waist, maybe one of them on your hip if in a shop. shed be so warm too, a blessing in the winter/autumn but otherwise a loveable type of hell.

if you're on your period she would be a literal human heating pad, always laying in bed and holding you or peppering kisses on your cheeks, always ready to throw compliments or praise if you felt bad or insecure.

she would either be a horrible cook or top tier chef, no in-between. either way, she would have your comfort food(s) mastered if you were sick or just not feeling good in general. also always making sure you ate enough no matter what it was, always noticing if you didnt and talking to you about it after.

while going grocery shopping she would let you wander as she pushed the cart, letting you get your favorite drinks or snacks or flowers if they had them just to see you happy, and if you really wanted something they didnt have she would order it online with the fast delivery, no matter how expensive it was to do so.

shed love seeing you in her hoodies or her clothes, finding it adorable that you would want to be in her stuff. if you didnt feel well she would help you into one, snuggling you and putting on a movie or your show in the background

as said earlier, she's such a cuddler. shed almost always be the big spoon or have you laying on top of her, but of she ever felt vulnerable or just needed more comfort you would always be open to change that. sometimes she would just lay her head on your belly, the rest of her body inbetween your legs as you would toy with her hair. other times you would subconsciously know she needed more comfort, curling around her as she lay beside you.

nsfw :

god, she would be such a sucker for praise. always whispering in your ear as you took her fingers, saying how good you were doing.. if it was one of the days she let you do anything to her, she would absolutely thrive off your praise aswell. any sweet words exchanged between the two of you she took to heart, cherishing them as if they were her lifeline

she would seem so dominant, but eventually got to the point she would let you boss her around, loving it when you told her just what you wanted her to do to you, loving the sounds you would let out when she did it perfectly.

she would get addicted to your body, always having her hands on you even if you two were just laying in bed, cupping your boobs or scooping you onto her - more times than not leading to so much more than cuddles

shed love watching as she fucks you, the way you take either her fingers or her strap, listening to every breath you take or just looking at the way she goes into you..

if she just wanted to be taken care of, you would happily do as she asked, and every time you thought she could never taste better she seemed too. her thighs would latch around your head, trapping you as you ate her out

~ im on my period and projecting a tad with the first bit, hope you all like them 💗

tags : @aanvime

[f-mcthetherapist]

Imagine mc on her period and she's getting period pains worse than usual.

Mc: *face scrunched up holding her stomach*

The bros: *concerned*

Asmo: Hun you ok you don't look so good...

Satan: Yea is there something wrong?

Beel: Does it hurt anywheare?

Belphie: Yea can we help u in anyway?

Mc:yea it does hurt

Mammon: Oi human just tell the great Mammon and i'll help ya to-

Mc: My.Ass.Hurts.

Mammon: I-...

Mc:My.Stomach.Hurts.

Satan: Umm do you need-

Mc:I feel like throwing up and crawl to a corner and cry.

Mc: Can you help me with that?

The bros:........

Mc: Yea didn't think so, so shut up and leave me alone.

After that the brothers tried to cheer her up in anyway possible, giving her her fav snacks,movie night,pain killers etc etc.

The brothers try their best to always make sure their human is happy just like mc always does to them.

[countrygalbitch]

I need her to look at me like this

[photo not mine]

[chai-berries]

taking care of abby on her period! she’s usually has a, according to her, “low key” period. she gets cramps that she uses pain meds for and she could be a spokeswoman for ANY sports-related tampon brand with what she can do physically on her period.

she is a bit of a medical weirdo, and has hers [and yours too if you have one/don’t mind her doing it] tracked on her phone and has all the “no caffeine, not too much greasy food, high/low energy, cheat days, gym days” down like a science.

but there are ones that knock her down a peg. she’s more whiny and clingy and just wants to cuddle and eat junk and sleep all day!!!

and that’s honestly perfect for you

you hate to say it but abby on her period is one of your favorite abby’s to snuggle with <3 she’ll flop on top of you and you’ll comb and smooth her hair back with your fingers, pressing kisses to her hairline. she always makes a cute groan noise when she starts to relax onto you that makes you coo every time. the poor lil baby :(

[szynkaaa]

I think my OC and Sun Wukong's entire relationship dynamic is that both don't think much about marriage or love or relationships, but they both clearly act like they have been married for 50 years with the way the bicker and banter but also just be there for each other but they'd totally get married and claim because it just made life easier for both of them like yeah the celestial court and all the others are getting off his back now and she has an extra layer of protection and they insist this is a marriage of convenience and yeah they're best friends ofc they love each other plus this is ancient china every second person gets married for convenience not out of love how is that any different than our marriage but outsiders can just see how loyal and head over heels they are for each other and yes there was that one accidentall kiss incident but only because Wukong was hanging upside down from the tree and she turned around too fast and their lips met each other but that doesn't mean anything-

[zepskies]

Hey! I was wondering if the requests are still open? I’m so obsessed with BMD💗✨ I was wonder how Ben would react to his gf having cramps during her moon cycle✨

Tysm for sharing these awesome stories with us hun🫂💗✨Hope you’re healthy and happy💃🏻❤️

Hey there!

I'm so glad you love BMD. 🥰 I’m slowly but surely working through my inbox of requests! And because I’m currently on my “moon cycle” as I’m writing this [last week. I was suffering for four days], I just had to do this prompt. So thank you for it, lovely!

And you're so very welcome. It's my pleasure. I hope you're healthy and happy as well!! ❤️❤️

AN: This one is set in the Break Me Down-verse, but can be read as a stand-alone. Considering where we're going next in "Strong as Blood," I thought it'd be good to release this first lol.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Word Count: 2,700 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, of course. Hurt/comfort, fluff, grumpy Ben.

Imagine: How Ben reacts to his girlfriend having cramps during her period.

You really were going to die this time.

The thought was both a conviction and a deranged mantra as you stood hunched over the bathroom sink. Nausea and pain warred for dominance as you pressed a clammy hand over your forehead.

Jesus Christ, end me please. I beg of you.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend was in the bedroom getting ready for work. Both you and Ben worked at Supe Affairs now, with Butcher and the rest of the team.

You were one of the top agents in the Surveillance department, while Ben was considered a “contractor,” catching rogue supes and dealing with the remnants of Vought.

He was just about to undress from his shirt and sweatpants and start getting his supe suit on, when he heard the toilet flush in the bathroom…for the third time now. He realized then just how long you’d been in there.

He went over and knocked on the closed door.

“Hey, you planning on going to work today?” he said, with a teasing note to his voice. “Or making breakfast, for that matter?”

“Not now, Ben,” you replied, barely stifling a groan.

A frown tugged at his lips. “What’s wrong?”

“Debating if I’m gonna start my day by throwing up last night’s pot roast,” you replied sourly.

Ben’s brows crunched when he heard the strain in your voice. But at the same time, he couldn’t help smiling.

“What, are you pregnant?” he asked.

He heard your dry huff from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Most definitely not,” you said. “But at this point, I’d much rather be knocked up.”

Ben didn’t like the sound of that. He twisted the doorknob and let himself in, just to see his girlfriend locked up with pain. He read the misery written across your face. You were still in your pajamas (one of his old shirts that hung almost to your knees).

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeated gruffly. He rested a heavy hand on your back, between your shoulders. You let out a breath.

“Move that hand lower?” you requested. “My period came early this month. Hit me out of nowhere with a vengeance.”

His brows crunched a bit, but he obliged you, moving to your lower back. His hand was warm, as usual, and the weight of it was a small relief as he rubbed back and forth into your aching muscles.

You let out a deep breath and briefly closed your eyes. Finally, the nausea was starting to pass. And if you dawdled any longer, you were going to be late for work.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I need to get ready.”

You tried to straighten up, even though what felt like your entire lower body protested.

“You can barely move,” Ben said. “How’re you gonna work like that?”

“The way all women have managed to do for centuries,” you tartly pointed out. “With a buttload of painkillers and a heating pad under my desk…speaking of, where is that thing?”

You moved past him to look for said object. You knew you put it somewhere…

Ah! You found it in the top drawer of your nightstand. You plugged it in just to make sure it was working, but to your frowning suspicion, it didn’t turn on.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said. You pressed the “on” button several times, but it didn’t light up. You touched the fluffy heating pad on both sides, but it was still cold. “Damn it. Don’t tell me this thing’s broken!”

You were about ready to tear the thing apart with your bare hands, when a sudden cramp spasmed in your lower belly. You inhaled sharply and held a hand there with a wince. Your back bent forward on reflex, and you grabbed onto the nightstand to steady yourself.

“All right,” Ben said. He took the defunct heating pad out of your hand and guided you to sit down on the edge of the bed. He went over to his side to grab his cell phone where it sat on his nightstand.

When you twisted to see what he was up to, you raised a suspicious brow. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not going to work,” he said. His tone was matter of fact, and your brows rose even higher.

“What? Ben—”

He ignored you when whoever he was calling finally answered the phone.

“Yes?” came Grace Mallory’s steady, but slightly incredulous voice. Ben never called her, nor did he want to. But he didn’t have your manager’s number and didn’t feel like scrolling through your phone to find it.

“She’s not coming in today,” Ben said, without preamble.

"Ben," you tried. Again, he ignored you.

In his ear, Grace spoke your name, both a question and a clarification.

“Yeah, she’s sick. Get someone else to fill in,” he said.

Grace sighed. “…All right, but just so you know—”  

Ben hung up the phone before she could finish. He then tossed it onto the bed. You shot him a wry, questioning look.

“What did she say?” you asked.

“It’s fine. You’ve got the day off,” he said. “Just relax.”

You sighed. Going above your manager to call Grace wasn’t the protocol for taking PTO in the slightest, but you couldn’t help but smile.

You beckoned him over with a hand. "Come 'ere."

A smirk tugging at his lips, Ben came back around to your side of the bed. You pulled him down by his shirt until he sat next to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Maybe it was a small thing, but sometimes your boyfriend surprised you with the ways he showed that he cared.

“Thanks, baby,” you said softly. You carded your fingers through his hair, rested them at the back of his neck.

“Mhmm,” Ben nodded, rubbing your back again. “I gotta get going.”

“If you must,” you sighed. You pulled away enough to see his face, and something occurred to you. “Oh, can you get me some more feminine pads on the way home? And some Midol, and a new heating pad?”

Ben raised a brow at you. This was where he drew the line. He wasn’t about to be caught dead browsing through pads and tampons in some pharmacy aisle. God for-fucking-bid, some kid would be there with a camera phone. He’d learned about the internet, and it was worse than the tabloids used to be.

But you read the pullback in his face. You implored him with your eyes, and your gentle fingers in his hair.

“Please?” you asked. “I’d do it for you.”

Ben’s frown deepened.

“I’m not the one with the…” He gestured at you vaguely. “Monthly problem.”

You grinned a little. The way he reluctantly phrased it amused you. Despite his deplorable sense of humor, and often vulgar language, not to mention his blatant love of pussy, you supposed his fragile male disposition wouldn’t allow him to say the words.

Period.

Menstrual cycle.

Bleeding from the vagina.

“Exactly,” you countered, and you leaned up to once again snuggle your face into his neck. “Please, baby. You don’t know how much it hurts right now. You really want me to go to the store like this?”

Ben held you back with a terse sigh. You were somehow ready to go to work a minute ago, yet you couldn’t drive around the corner to the drug store?

“Fine,” he groused. His voice was nearly a growl, but you still smiled behind his back. You laid small, sweet kisses into his neck. When you leaned back, you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Thank you,” you said between kisses. Ben just shook his head when you were done bribing him with affection.

“Yeah,” he dully replied. The things I fucking do for you, said his tone.

He finally withdrew from you to continue getting dressed, leaving you to crawl back under the covers and try to find a comfortable angle to lay down. You used all the pillows on the bed, even dragging his toward you. That one you rested your head on, as it still smelled like him.

Ben watched you settle in out of the corner of his eye, like a cat curling up in her bed. A smile tugged at his lips when you sighed in relief and turned on the TV.

He didn’t see so much pain in your features anymore. You seemed in a better mood, relaxed as you held his pillow like an anchor.

So that’s how he left you. However, it wasn’t until he got to the Supe Affairs building that he saw your text pop up on his phone:

Here’s a picture of the pads I like. If you don’t see them, call me and I’ll help you. And don’t forget the heating pad! 😘

He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

By the time he got home that evening with takeout and a plastic bag (filled with the things you'd asked for), he spotted an empty cup of yogurt in the kitchen.

It meant you’d gotten out of bed at some point, at least. He set down the takeout bags on the kitchen counter and made his way up the stairs.

He found you in the same place he left you: in bed, in your pajamas. And you were crying while watching a movie.

Ben frowned. He stood in the doorway in his supe suit with the pharmacy bag.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. You looked up and finally noticed him.

“Oh, hey.” You paused the movie. “I’m okay. It’s just…Marley & Me.”

“What?”

“It’s this true story about a dog…just, don’t ask. It’s ridiculously sad,” you sniffed and wiped your eyes.

He raised a brow at you.

“Sure it’s not just your uh…situation, making you all weepy?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You did not just say that.”

Was he really calling you hormonal right now?  

His lips pursed, but he held up the bag.

“Before you start blowing your top, I got your female shit.” He ventured into the bedroom and laid the bag in your lap.

Giving him some annoyed side-eye, you peered into the bag. You nodded in approval at the correct brand and size of the pads you wanted, and a new pack of Midol. You then had to smile, as he even got you a couple of Twix bars. Your favorite chocolate covered candy.

“Admit it, I did good,” Ben said with a smirk. Your side-eye was begrudgingly amused this time.

“Color me surprised,” you replied, but you still treated him with a genuine smile. “Thanks, baby. This is perfect…”

Though you realized something was missing. Ben’s smirk started to fade as he caught on.

“Wait.” You sorted through the bag. “Where’s the heating pad?”

Fuck, Ben thought. He forgot.

His expression slackened, making you sigh in disappointment.

“Okay, it’s fine,” you said, ripping open the box of Midol. This would have to be enough to relieve your pain (but it never was). Even now, your cramps were starting back up again.

Ben nodded in response. You were no longer looking at him though.

He let out a sigh. Didn’t he get credit for fucking trying here?

Without another word, he started unzipping his supe suit and disappeared into the bathroom for a shower.

By the time he returned, you were nearly in full fetal position. The Midol had only put a dent in your pain. The First Wives Club movie from the '90s was playing on the TV, but not even that could make you laugh, let alone relax right now.

You were truly miserable, and Ben saw it as he got dressed in a clean pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asked. He wasn’t sure about the last time you’d eaten anything.

You paused the movie and moved your head enough to meet his eyes.

“Not really,” you admitted. “You go ahead and eat.”

Oh, he was starving. After the day he’d had, rounding up another telekinetic that tried to trash Midtown to evade capture, Ben could go for about five burgers. But there was a part of him that…didn’t feel right, leaving you like this.

Still, he needed to eat. He went downstairs and grabbed his meatball sub out of the takeout bag. He also took your sandwich along too, just in case the sight of food managed to make you hungry. He brought it all upstairs and sat next to you in bed. Though he was also kind of behind you, the way you were curled up.

You'd felt when his body dipped on his side of the bed. His presence both soothed and annoyed you. The former, because you did love your man. The latter, because he forgot the most important thing you'd reminded him not to forget.

You reached back blindly, eventually finding his hand that wasn't occupied with holding his sandwich. You placed that hand on your lower back.

"Massage, please," you grunted into your pillow. (Well, his pillow, but semantics.)

He sighed through his nose and a mouthful of meatball.

"I'm eating," he replied.

"What, you can't multitask?" you quipped.

Ben's gaze hardened with annoyance at the back of your head.

Still, he found himself reaching over and rubbing across your lower back. He applied gentle, but firm pressure with the heel of his hand. You sighed in appreciation.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Ben nodded and continued to polish off his sub while watching the movie. He usually wasn’t into chick flicks, but Bette Midler was hilarious, and Goldie Hawn was hot as fuck.

“I got you turkey and provolone,” he said. You nodded.

“Thanks. I’m still not hungry though.”

“Are you nauseous?”

“No…just in pain.”

Ben frowned…until he got an idea. He crumpled up his trash and tossed it onto the nightstand for now, along with brushing off the crumbs from his chest. He grabbed a couple of your pillows and propped them up behind him, against the headboard.

You shot him an annoyed look. “Hey!”

“You’re like a little dragon with her hoard a’ gold,” he remarked, smirking. Before you could start getting all huffy, he reached for your arm. “Come ‘ere.”

“What?”

“For once, just do what I'm telling you," he said. His lips twitched at your narrowing eyes. "I’ve got an idea."

With a loud sigh, you reluctantly (and slowly) uncurled and turned towards him. Ben laid back against the headboard, and he guided you to lay on top of him. You often complained that his skin was too hot at night for summer. Sometimes you woke up sweating.

It was a result of the power that emanated from his chest. Ben couldn’t exactly control the heat; at least, not when he was sleeping. But he was sure you were going to appreciate it more when winter came.

Not to mention, right now.

He positioned you just right, with your knee curling around his hip and your head resting against his chest. His large hand once again soothed against your lower back, underneath your shirt, and his fingers massaged into your skin.

You smiled as you realized what he was doing. You felt the warmth emanating from his body as it seeped into yours. Along with his calming touch, it slowly managed to relieve your pain.

After a few minutes, you let out a deep sigh and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, before you went back to resting on him fully. You couldn’t see it, but Ben smiled.

“Better?” he asked.

You closed your eyes with a soft smile. “Yeah. My new heating pad’s working wonders.”

Ben huffed a bit at that.

Just then, your stomach growled fiercely. Your eyes popped open.

You met your boyfriend's wry look, biting your lip. He smirked and reached down into the bag that still laid beside the bed. He retrieved your foil-wrapped sandwich and handed to you. You took it and happily began breaking through the foil.

Ben looked down at you, both fond and resigned. You clearly had no intention of getting off him. Which meant you were about to try and use him like some kind of makeshift man table.

You eventually took a bite of your sandwich, your eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation. You glanced up at his raised brow with a happy little smile.

“So good!” you said, still with your mouth full.

Ben restrained the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he thumbed at a bit of crumb on the corner of your mouth.

“Just don’t get mustard on my shirt,” he said.

AN: Lol I hope you liked this! I had fun with it, even though I don't have a body heater for my cramps. 😭

(It's fine. I bought a new heating pad online. ❤️‍🔥)

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[rabbitsrams]

poly! tedschlatt when you're on your period headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

nsfw under the cut, minors dni!! 18+ only.

sfw:

♡ both of them running to the pharmacy to get you tons of snacks and arguing about what to get you

♡ ending up buying way more than you'll need

♡ ted giving you a heating pad/water bottle and literally holding it on you

♡ schlatt ofc makes sure the cats are close by so you can cuddle/play with them as you rest

♡ "i need painkillers!"

♡ "i got it!" said at the same time.

♡ ted is just so sweet, always checking in on you

♡ he gives you massages if you need them

♡ schlatt giving you his sweatshirts to wear and tons of blankets and plushies to cuddle with while he and ted are working

♡ and when they're ready to cuddle? best believe y'all are not leaving your bed

♡ brings you meals and snacks so you don't have to get up

♡ you end up watching a ton of movies/catching up on a show together

♡ and you crying whenever something sappy/sad/etc happens

♡ schlatt resisting the urge to cry so you don't cry further but ted just SOBS and that has you sobbing more and he just cries more all of u are crying so much akdjskf

♡ if you're running out of period products and you need some more they buy. everything.

♡ (which one of them is "what size pussy do you wear" coded sound off in the comments)

♡ they're constantly doting on you which makes you even more emotional than usual

♡ if you get emotional over anything they're hugging and kissing you, telling you everything's okay ugh i need them ):

nsfw:

♡ apparently sex during your period can help reduce cramps so...

♡ you're constantly worried about the mess and if they'd be grossed out but they don't care, in fact they love it :)

♡ laying out a couple of towels on the bed or couch so you know what's about to go down

♡ plus your hormones make u like 10 times hornier so :)

♡ "we're gonna fuck the cramps out of ya."

♡ "ted, come on man."

♡ "no, by all means, please do."

♡ schlatt massaging your tits when they're sore to help relieve pain and totally not bc they're bigger and squishier

♡ ted mindlessly reaching into your shorts to touch you, not even caring if he gets blood all over his fingers

♡ them simultaneously touching you gets you so worked up that you come pretty quickly

♡ feeling utterly relieved when your cramps go away without needing to take a pill

♡ oral when you're on your period from your boyfriends... oh my god

♡ why does the sight of blood all over their mouths turn you on so much???

♡ so many stained towels are thrown into the laundry during that week 😉

[futuremrscameron]

rafe and biker pogue coded actually

[young-lover-of-literature]

Stephanie Stans ARISE

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Nine

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing’s Wrong with Dale Chapter 29

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5][Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten]  [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve]  [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four][Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] Part Twenty-Nine [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

It’s finally arrived: the morning of your wedding.

Only three hours from now. You’ve rehearsed and made all the decisions and socialized with what feels like everyone in the country and several outside of it. You’ll finish getting dressed over the next hour or so, finalize any last minute arrangements and handle any day-of problems with Grandmother or the Steward, and then the wedding ceremony will occur. After that, there will be the final signing of papers for the legal offices. The wedding luncheon will take up several hours, but you’ll be the first expected to leave for once. While your guests continue to socialize, you, Dale, and a small number of servants ride off. 

You’re headed for an old hunting lodge a couple hours away. It’s a traditional destination for all Northridge newly married couples, with a separate house for the servants therefore privacy for the new couple. Some only spent a single night there, heading on to more distant destinations, but you and Dale shall spend at least a week there. After you’ll continue on to Riverton, the closest city in Northridge to the hunting lodge, to start your tour of the fief. 

A strangely nervous excitement fills you with both anticipation and trepidation. There has been so much build-up to today that it feels surreal to have finally arrived. There will be the days after today where you and Dale will finally have unbridled privacy to talk openly. You are worried about what he might reveal, but if these last few weeks have taught you anything, it’s that not knowing is far, far worse. You cannot help but look forward to the absence of other people you must socialize and make conversation with. There will be no more focus and attention on you which is something you need desperately. 

Your family will no longer be constantly around. They’ve been well enough behaved, to be sure, and Callalily has not brought up any further concerns. Your other siblings give no hint that she might have spoken with them on such matters, which you are grateful for. You’re also grateful that Dale has stuck closer to you these past few nights than he had previously. Some of his friends even were carefully integrated into the Northridge and Portsmith conversations with ease, although you did notice a certain few who remained on the other side of the room. Wilhelm was among them. He did apologize to you directly the next day, once he’d gotten over his hangover. He’d been profoundly embarrassed, admitting he’d no true memory of the night. 

Dale was still a bit odd, often lost in thought. He maintained a cheerful enough disposition that you don’t think anyone else noticed. His control seemed to have been reasserted as you’ve noticed no suggestions to his true nature in the slightest, which allowed you to relax as well. You know you will both be far less stressed once this fuss is all behind you. 

Brisk hands with a plush towel drying your hair pull you out of your thoughts. Freshly clean from a bath, your maid is getting ready to style your hair. Behind you in your dressing room other maids are pressing your clothing and packing your bags for the trip ahead. You’re enjoying the quiet atmosphere as they chat. It helps that everything’s already been decided so no one has to speak with you. You’ve been purposely avoiding thinking about the wedding ceremony itself—even more than all the galas, everyone’s attention will be on you and Dale. It's rather terrifying. You need every second you have to yourself to try to reach some sort of calm. 

So far, you're dressed in your lovely wedding chemise, a gift from Marigold, and you distract yourself to admire it in the mirror. The lacework is finer and more intricate than any you’d seen on such a garment with a lovely ribbon of maroon woven through the hem. Marigold insisted that these decorations were a trend among certain nobility, shirts and shifts alike, for special occasions and the like. You had been touched when it arrived near a month ago. You feel retroactively guilty for the mild suspicion you’d pessimistically attributed to her intentions. You’d been both flattered and anxious about being condensed to, as if you were too young or naive to have known of the fad yourself, which of course you had not.

Now you believe she had merely wanted to give you a present and share her more intimate knowledge of fashion trends, with no slight intended. It is her gift to you for the wedding and you greatly appreciate it. Douglas has given you a fine horse and Asher a handwritten booklet, with tips and advice from what he remembers learning as he began to run your home fief. Not to play favorites, but you’ve already begun reading Asher’s, even if the mare is lovely.

No sooner had your mind turned to Callalily’s gift, than there was a knock on the door. Miss Adir opens it to admit Callalily and her maid, who she’s lending to you for styling your hair for the wedding. She has also given you a wonderful book on herbs and medicine, which you didn’t have the heart to tell her was one you’d read before. You remind yourself that it is a more recent edition than the one you’d used in school and that it is nice to have your own copy.

Callalily elects to stay in the room, her outfit and hair already fully taken care of for the day, and lounges on one of your dressing room chairs. “Where is your dress?”

“With the laundress, my lady,” Miss Adir tells her at your questioning look. “They are steaming it. Your underskirts as well. Your stays are ready, if you’d like me to lace them up before we start on the rest of your hair.”

You roll your shoulders as you eye the stays on the rack nearby. They’re freshly cleaned because, unlike your underskirts, you’ve not worn them recently. Your eyes dart to your bed where the stays you’ve been wearing lay. They’ve been cleaned this week, but not yesterday and they’re different enough due to the busk knife sheath that the dress might sit oddly over them given the way they’ve been made.

Reading your look, Miss Adir offers, “We can still switch to the other stays my lady.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. You’ve practically worn no other stays without the sheath knife since the attack, but you know it's foolish. It’s not as though you’ve been alone since then where you would need to rely on it. Still, it’s made you feel safer to have it there. But it’s not as though someone would try to strike you during the ceremony or wedding luncheon and you’ll be with Dale after. “The dress was made with that one in mind,” you state as confidently as you can, “No matter my reluctance.”

“Why are you tempted by this other pair of stays?” Callalily asks, glancing over the assorted freshly laundered undergarments. “Surely they cannot be so different.”

“Oh, they are the ones you gifted to me,” you say, not sure how exactly to broach the subject without worrying her. She’s the one who gave them to you for a purpose. As a diplomat, she’s the sibling most involved in politics—of multiple countries no less. She’s had to deal with her own fair share of such attacks, but you don’t think she ever truly expected you to need to rely on her gift for its intended purpose. “I’d meant to thank you again for them.”

“You did?” Callalily raises an eyebrow at that.

“Yes,” you admit, eyes darting to the maid with her back to you as she packs clothes into your trunks and avoiding Miss Adir’s gaze. You select your words carefully, “I had cause to make use of their unique construction and am very grateful for the gift.”

You watch in the mirror as Callalily’s maid braids your damp hair. Her eyes widen as she pares your allusion. “You… did,” she says slowly, sitting straighter in her chair as she fully absorbs what you're saying. “When? Are you alright?”

“I am fine,” you reply just as carefully. Callalily’s eyes are insistent as she stares at you and you reluctantly elaborate, “There was an incident two weeks or so ago.” That at least is easy enough to tell her. Your mother’s penchant for specific coded language comes in handy. “Incident” means an attack on the family without serious injury or death, for you. It also indicates a private attack otherwise it would have been a ‘commotion’. Neither you, Dale, nor Grandmother were injured enough for a “disturbance” and since Dale took care of the assassins it's not “ongoing”. “The matter has been settled personally by Lord Dale, for now.”

“Two weeks—” Callalily starts to press before she cuts herself off. Her eyes are critical on your form in the mirror. You can see her take note that you have no visible injuries. You’ve no injuries hidden either—all bruising has since resolved. “I see.” You’ve never seen her at such a loss until the other day and to have it happen twice is nothing short of a miracle. She resettles herself in the chair and says, “Well, I’m very glad you had the stays then.” The sincerity in her voice makes you smile. “I can provide you the name of the maker, in case you should like to order more.”

Your smile widens at her offer. You’d asked one of the seamstresses to look into just such a thing, but it would be far easier with her help. “Thank you.”

She can’t seem to stop herself from questioning further, saying, “Did you have occasion to do more than…?” Something in your expression must answer her incomplete question for her. She stands up from the chair and walks over to the stays, pulling out the entire busk sheath.“I see. Then I am grateful indeed that you had this. I can provide a cord and show you how else to wear it, if you’d prefer.”

“Yes, please,” you reply, already feeling more settled at her suggestion. Callalily murmurs to a maid instructions for what to get from her rooms. 

Only a few minutes later, the maid returns with the necessary supplies and Marigold in tow. “Apologies for my delay,” Marigold says as she quickly takes Callalily’s place on her chair. “It was more difficult than I expected make my way here without notice or accompaniment.”

Before you can question what she means by that, you’re distracted by Callalily’s maid needing to pin up your braids and set your curls. You do catch a look Callalily and Marigold share and wonder what it could mean as Miss Adir laces up your stays. When two of the maids, including Miss Adir, leave for the laundry room, you are unsurprised when Callalily sends her maid on an errand for some jewelry she’s decided to lend to you.

The final maid has finished with the fireplace and correctly reads the room, taking her leave. You eye your sisters in the mirror and ask, “What is it you wish to discuss?” Marigold tries to adopt an innocent expression, but Callalily doesn’t. She smirks as she inspects the dresses that haven’t been packed yet.

“Mother and Father wanted to be the one to speak with you,” Marigold says, as if she is reassuring you of something. Your eyebrows raise at that and she continues, “but we decided to do so instead.” 

You lean back against your vanity in your chemise and stays. You don’t think there is bad news they are wishing to impart or truly news at all. However, you’re not sure what else they would need to tell you in private and in this manner. “What did they wish to speak about?”

Marigold looks extremely amused as Callalily answers, “The wedding night.”

“Oh.” You frown, wondering why they’d want to discuss tonight’s accommodations. As family of the bride, you expect them to stay on the Northridge estate for another week even as other guests might begin to leave as early as tomorrow, depending on how long the gala lasts today. Then something in Marigold’s smirk sparks a connection in your mind. “Oh!” You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you try very hard not to seem too awkward or naive. 

They mean your wedding night. Tonight. With Dale. Then you remember the rest of what they said and feel an embarrassed panic fill your veins at the thought of having to discuss anything along those lines with your parents. “By the light, please no.” You’ve no true desire to discuss this with your sisters, although part of you is curious about their general experience as both are married, but your parents? No.

“I did not escape their talk and neither did Asher,” Callalily explains, a teasing twinkle in her eye, “but we were able to save Marigold.”

“And so we shall save you,” Marigold proclaims magnanimously. 

Your mind races, not having expected any of them to want to discuss physical affection with you, even in preparation of tonight. You know that is the purpose of a wedding trip, everyone does, but it feels far too personal somehow to discuss anything detailed with them. You hadn’t felt nearly this uncomfortable when you’d have these facts explained to you in the first place. “We already had lessons! In school!” you protest when it becomes clear that by “save” they mean to still speak with you themselves. “Did you not?”

“We did,” Callalily confirms. Her teasing demeanor softens in the face of your discomfort and she explains further, “But Mother in particular still wanted to provide, ehm, additional context and opportunity to ask questions.”

“It’s genuinely rather sweet—in theory,” Marigold says. She’s not wrong exactly, on some level you appreciate the offer, but a larger part of you has never divulged personal information of this nature to anyone in your family or the reverse and you are perfectly content for it to stay that way.

“Yes well,” Callaliy’s voice is exceedingly dry. “I did not need to know anything about their wedding night or continued marital bliss.”

“Please stop,” you say weakly.

“We meant to speak with you far sooner,” Marigold clarifies, “but since we arrived late and with how busy everything was, we were not able to until now.”

“We apologize,” Callalily says, but she continues talking, “but truly, do you have any questions?”

“Or concerns?” Marigold leans in, eyes intent. “Have you—”

“No, of course not,” you reply before you can help yourself. Having a child outside of marriage for a noble was considered a societal taboo of the highest level. It’s seen as diluting your bloodline, evidence of careless stupidity, and disrespectful to nearly everyone involved. Those who did so and were found out were often ostracized from noble society, along with their family. The risk of such an outcome was impressed upon you and the other students–not to mention by your parents. As you knew you’d have a challenging time earning a betrothal as it was, you’d never considered doing so. Not to mention you’ve had enough health concerns and medicine in your body that you’d not wanted to take any chances with certain contraception methods. 

But your sisters wouldn’t have had all those concerns. You also knew that it was somewhat common to preempt your wedding vows with your fiance in the weeks before the wedding. Everyone knew that first-borns tended to be born early, which means everyone knew that some did wait for the wedding night, if they felt their marriage was guaranteed strongly enough for that risk. With eyes wide you ask, “Had you?”

“I did not and neither did Asher,” Callalily sniffs in such a pointed manner that you turn to Marigold somewhat incredulously.

“I did,” Marigold confesses boldly. You knew she was always more willing to go against convention, but you’re still surprised. “It is not such a travesty or such a danger and I’m glad for the experience. It seemed ill-advised to me to wait until the wedding night.” You want to ask if she slept with her future husband or someone else. You want to ask how she kept the risk of a child out of wedlock low. Perhaps you will ask later as she does not have any children to this day, but you can’t make yourself ask right now. 

You’d purposely not been thinking in too much detail about tonight, let alone engaging in such activity earlier. First, that had been due to who Dale was and then you’d been preoccupied with everything else this Dale is. Now they’re making it hard not to worry. What experience does this Dale have? What does he expect from you? Is what Marigold did far more common than you thought?

Marigold’s eyes narrow as she asks, “Have you had any experience with lust at all?”

You resist the urge to cross your arms defensively in front of yourself before saying, “Yes, some. Nothing—” you swallow as you try not to sound too defensive or accusatory after what Marigold confessed, “nothing as you seem to have experienced, but more than a kiss, if that is what you are asking.”

“Truly?” Marigold seems genuinely taken aback. You don’t know whether to feel offended she thought you too naive or unwanted to have done so or pleased you’ve managed to surprise her. “When? With who?”

“Does it matter?” you ask, the heat rushing to your face at the memories. You know peasants and other classmates and clearly Marigold herself had more experience than you managed to have. Both of Callalily and Marigold were married so they had far more by now too. You’re sure they’ll view your paltry experience as quite innocent.

“No one took advantage of you, did they?” Callalily’s expression is intent, her hand subconsciously drifting towards her sword as she reads the discomfort in your body language.

“No, of course not,” you reply quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. “Just some games at school, in the dormitory.” Dormitories at your school were for four girls in a room, but some nights, more would sneak out after stealing something from the kitchens and all gather together. You’d never been invited to one in another room, but you’d joined in the one or two times everyone had gathered in your own rooms. Nadine’s brother would sometimes send her packages with liquor harder than the watered down wine you’d have with dinner that she would share with the others. Many of the games were silly but some turned to romance and kissing in addition to other daring challenges.

“Oh,” Callalily blinked in surprise before smiling, “Yes, we used to participate in such games. Many of my classmates enjoyed professing it as ‘practice’ without too much unnecessary risk.”

“That is not all, is it?” Marigold says shrewdly, her eyes intent on you.

You jut out your chin stubbornly because she’s correct. “No, I… There was one Spring Equinox festival, soon after graduation.” At their looks of mild confusion, no doubt remembering the family dinners and boring sacred ceremonies, you reluctantly expand further. “One I went to with my maid.” They frown in confusion. “As her cousin.” Their eyebrows raise at that reveal, remembering how different those festivals were from the more staid affairs your parents would host. “In the Garden district.” 

Your home city, not the country estate, is where you’d attended this particular festival. That is why you had been able to pretend to be Martina’s cousin—everyone would have recognized you back on the estate, or at least know you weren’t Martina’s cousin, but not in the city. She’d help you dress and coached you on how to talk and act. She had said she wanted you to experience more life than you had received. Your quiet nature had easily fed into the idea of you being her country cousin with no experience in the large city. It had been one of, if not the best nights of your life. You’ve never talked to anyone about it besides Martina.

“You did what?!” Callalily exclaims.

Marigold grins. “I did not think you had it within you to do such a thing. Wonderful! That sounds like a marvelous time.”

“With how much everyone drinks?” Callalily says, still looking shocked. “Especially in the Garden district. Their liquors are dangerous!”

She isn’t wrong. They made delicious drinks without burn or foul taste which could easily lead to someone overindulging. Your contribution of coin had been carefully managed to acquire enough equally delicious street food. Besides, Martina is a good friend and you’ll not let them think she was careless with your well being. “M-She looked out for me. There was no lasting harm from that night. Nothing dangerous happened.” You can’t help but say, “I just wanted to enjoy myself as a real person for once.”

“Oh, honey,” Marigold says.

“I know that you—” Callalily tries to say, obviously not recalling enough from your previous conversation.

“Do you? You do not know,” you say sharply, the words coming easier this time. “And you all insist I must have slept through the first decade and a half of my life, but I did not. I was merely trapped in those rooms, listening to faint music from below, forbidden by Mother and my own body from—” You cut yourself off in a frustrated huff. But once again, at least they’re listening. You try to keep your voice steady so as not to feel like a child complaining about not receiving enough sweets. “It was like I was a doll, put up on a shelf, who could do nothing without another’s permission and manipulation. It was painful, the life all around me that I could not participate in.” You swallow, looking away from them and the pity you knew must be in your eyes. “So if, when I was an adult who could truly live,” you told the floor, “I wanted to drink and pretend to be someone else for the night and, and kiss someone in a barn,” you look back up at them, “then so be it!”

Silence fills the room as you breathe heavily, not having meant to say so much in such a short period of time. Then Marigold throws her arms around you in a fierce hug and Callalily soon joins hers. “My apologies,” Callalily murmurs, “I do not mean to presume so much. I had thought myself better than that.”

“I’d have gone mad, stuck in such a manner,” Marigold confesses. You don’t think saying that it felt like you had for a time would be appreciated but you’re grateful for the acknowledgment. “It was easier to believe you’d slept through it all than think of you in pain the whole time. I’m so happy that you’re here now and that you’ve done all you can to enjoy yourself.”

“Yes, precisely,” Callalily agrees before backing off to give you some space.

Marigold gives you an extra squeeze before she pulls back enough to tease, “How was the barn lad?”

You laugh even as you discretely dab at your eyes and take a sip from the water Callalily’s brought for you. “Sweet, he was a carpenter’s apprentice.” He’d been strong and confident—settled in a way that had greatly attracted you. You’d needed some air after how hot and tightly packed the tavern had gotten and he’d asked to come with you. The memory is still tinted with a pleasant haze. “We were interrupted by the maid who brought me before anything aside from his shirt—” You cut yourself off, rather embarrassed and wanting to keep some of that night to yourself.

Marigold giggles.

Callalily nods and finally stops looking as though she plans to call the guards to find Martina and take her to task. “It’s probably for the best,” she ends up saying. “Barns are not near as romantic as one might hope when it comes to anything that requires the actual removal of clothing.”

“Callalily!”

“My husband misses me when we travel apart,” she says airly. “We cannot wait at times.”

Marigold scrunches up her face. “I’m not sure I required that information.” 

“I could instead tell you of Mother’s—” Callalily begins.

“No!” you and Marigold interrupt her at the same time.

Callalily rolls her eyes but seems intent upon bringing the conversation back to where it originally started. “If you do not wish to have further discussion, or you do not have any questions, that is fine. I would like to impress upon you that communication is the heart of a marriage, in all aspects including matters of physical affection.”

“Encourage what you enjoy, put a halt to anything you dislike,” Marigold adds, more serious than she’s been on the subject so far. “As well as listen to him for the same.”

“It should be an enjoyable night,” Callalily says definitively, “and if either of you are not enjoying yourselves, talk to each other. There is always the next night.”

“Do you believe he would pressure you?” Marigold asks with a frown. “Some are very insistent regarding the manner in which a wedding night should progress.”

You shake your head before she’s even finished asking. “No, I don’t. Dale listens to me.” Original Dale would have had expectations and perhaps this Dale does too, but you’ve never received that impression from him. If anything, you’re beginning to wonder if he’ll be interested in the usual trappings of a human wedding night. His recent attitude, his confusing demeanor. It must all just be pressure from the investigation and the wedding and having to perform for so many people. Once the two of you are finally alone, everything will all be so much easier. It has to be.

In truth, it's how his inhuman nature will impact tonight and your future together that you have the most questions and concerns around. What if demons marry differently? What if they express physical affection in a manner you cannot reciprocate? Would that be better than if he’s no interest in you physically at all? The original Dale had proclaimed you passable, did this one agree? It’s not as though you can express all of those twisting thoughts to your sisters.

“As he should.” Callalily nods decisively and questions you no further on your assessment of Dale, which you’re grateful for. 

“You,” Marigold stares at you, head tilted to the side, as if a new thought had just occurred to her. “You are happy to be marrying, aren’t you?”

Despite all your worries, you smile shyly back at her. “Yes, I am.”

She grins back. “Then that is what truly matters.” Marigold glances at the clock and frowns. “As it is, we had best be on our way to rescue him from Mother.” At your frown, she explains, “He’d agreed to stay with her in the garden and entertain.” You take that to mean ‘allow Mother to play matchmaker for him’. You’re surprisingly touched by the sacrifice. “However, we are already approaching the hour and he shall wish for his deliverance from her shortly.”

“Luckily Asher is occupying Father,” Callalily says. “And is unlikely to want for rescue. If anything we shall have to pry them away from a riveting board game of some kind to attend the wedding in the first place.”

“We can let Mother deal with them,” Marigold waves off Callalily’s concern.

“Thank you,” you cut in to say. “I truly do appreciate it.”

“You are most welcome,” Marigold replies.

“If you require anything at all, do not hesitate to contact us, any of us, yes?” Callalily adds.

“Yes,” you answer and you think you actually will, if you need to.

After they leave, you sit down, suddenly unaware of what to do with yourself. Your eyes catch on the various wedding accessories spread out on your vanity. You run your fingers over the garter’s lace detail as your mind drifts to tonight and how Dale might–

The door opens behind you and you hope your expression doesn’t give the direction your thoughts had been drifting away. “Did you forget something, sister?” Your eyes land on a maid instead of your sisters. “Oh, my apologies.”

“My lady.” She looks surprised to see you, which is odd considering these are your rooms. Her eyes dart around as if looking for someone else, but there’s only you. If anything, you’d say she has the look of a woman who just learned some piece of tantalizing gossip and instead of finding a room full of her fellow servants, has found a superior instead. When you were still young and bedridden, it was one of the few times you were grateful you never counted fully as one such superior. It was always so interesting to listen to the stories they shared. Now, in a bittersweet way, it seems you’ve finally moved to the latter group. “I…”

Still, as she begins to look more worried than disappointed, when she hasn’t made an excuse about being confused about which room she’s in and left, you frown. “What is it?” you ask.

“Lord Dale has…” she trails off when the other maids return from the laundry with your clean clothes for packing, your corded underskirts pressed and bleached to pure whiteness. 

The maid who’d burst in seems to be attempting to act casual, but even the other maids notice something is amiss as their eyes keep darting to her with interest even as they return to their places. Then it appears she is going to slip out of the room. You can’t have that. “Miss? You were sharing news?” you remind her, hoping how tightly strung her words have left isn’t obvious.

“There might be a mild issue,” she says hastily, taking another step towards the door. “I’m sure it shall be dealt with quickly. If it were more serious, you would have been informed by a person far more appropriate than me. There is no point in worrying you.”

You swallow, each word increasing the panic shooting through you. “Be that as it may, you are here now. Tell me, what is your understanding of the situation?”

“I truly should not trouble you, my lady,” she tries to insist. “Lord Archibald is handling it.”

“What is wrong with Lord Dale?” you repeat, as clearly as you can because whether they know it or not, you are the best person to handle whatever might be wrong. Did someone try to give him willowbark again? Did someone involved in the assassination attempt attack? Is there some new danger you cannot even fathom?

“I overheard,” she says haltingly, “there was a lot of shouting, you see. They’re still arguing about it I believe, but… well…from what I heard, which was not terribly clear you must understand, it sounded as if…” You try your best to prompt her with your expression, the whole room gone silent waiting for her final words. “Lord Dale, he’s called off the wedding.”

[Part Thirty]

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Hiiii :) okay so this kinda deviates from your prompt list but doesn’t Yano?

Wandanat x r where r has been in a bad relationship and her period was always something that caused her to get in trouble, r would fear Wanda and nat seeing her on her period, but it’s now painfully obvious bc she’s leaked on her suit. One of them mention it and that caused r to have a panic attack and get so caught in her own mind she reacts instinctively to protect themselves but the girls are there to comfort and love their gf

~ a writer you follow 🕯️

Period Panic

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: After hiding her period from her girlfriends due to past relationships, what happens when you leak on your suit during a mission?

TW: mentions of past abuse, panic attacks, period / blood, canon typical violence, non sexual nudity, past trauma, flinching, crying

A/n I love this idea. I hope I did it justice. I am happy to explore any requests that aren’t on my prompts list as long as they follow my do’s and don’ts so I’m happy to write it. It was quite fun to write :) Also would you like to be 🕯anon? (So I can know when its you) Im very excited to get a request from a writer a follow (I only ever really follow my favourite writers so it means a lot)

Standing in your bathroom you quelled the anxiety rising in your chest. Sure, Wanda and Natasha had always been amazing. They were by far the best girlfriends you could ever ask for.

But that didn’t stop the fear you felt at the idea of them finding out. Past relationships had ingrained fears in you that were hard to shake. As a child your period was simply a fact of life. Something you would deal with and move on. However, after your last long-term relationship you began to fear it. Your partner had made snide remarks, insults and mean comments whenever you expressed anything to do with that time of the month.

At first you simply had brushed it off. However, as time went on, they had only seemed to become more aggressive in their actions. Eventually, by the time it ended you were afraid of that time of the month. The unbothered feelings you had towards your period were gone, replaced with a deep-rooted fear of inadequacy and disgust for yourself.

A knock broke you from your thoughts and you sucked in a sharp breath.

“Detka?” It was Natasha, most likely back from training and wanting a shower.

“Y-yes?” You cursed yourself for the waver in your voice, knowing as a trained spy she wouldn’t miss it.

“Are you ok my sweet?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, I'll be out in a minute.” You called slipping on that mask easily.

“Ok love.” Nat said and you sighed softly in relief. Maybe she hadn’t realised

Quickly you went to your hidden stash of period supplies. You didn’t want Wanda or Natasha to ever know when your period was so everything you needed was kept hidden. Pulling the pad from where it was tucked inside the centre of a spare toilet roll in a small cupboard you stuck it in your underwear as quietly as possible. Shoving the wrapper in your pocket to dispose of later you washed your hands and exited the bathroom. Making sure you had left no blood or evidence before leaving.

As you entered the bedroom you caught a glimpse of Wanda pulling off her shirt as Natasha smiled at you and took your place in the bathroom for a shower.

“How are you this morning my lovebug?” Wanda asked and you smiled.

“Im good. Are you ready for the mission?” You asked and Wanda sighed.

“I wish we could just stay here and cuddle.” She said and you nodded.

“Me too.”

“We better get changed into our suits the jet leaves soon.” Nat said leaving the bathroom in record time. She had a towel around her as she grabbed her suit and retreated back to the bathroom to change. Wanda nodded and grabbed her own suit, slipping it on in the corner of the bedroom. Once Nat left the bathroom you took her place and changed. Wanda shot Nat a confused look, normally you had to issues getting changed in the same room as them. Nat shrugged and decided to keep a close eye on you for the mission.

In the bathroom you looked at the pads wings that were visible on the outside of your undies with disgust. Shaking you head you pulled on your suit. It was rather tight but snug. The light grey colour was a risk, but you had no alternative. You simply prayed the pad would be enough and left the bathroom.

Wanda was sat on the bed watching Nat slip all her weapons into her suit before they stood and the three of you left to head to the jet. Tony, Steve and Bucky were waiting as the three of you got on board.

“Geez i almost thought i got stood up.” Tony said and shoved Nat toward the cockpit. “Do your thing Romanoff.” He grinned and Nat glared at him.

“Stark.” She said warningly. Tony put his hands up in a surrender and she suppressed a smirk. Although she was quite soft behind closed doors with you and Wanda, she had a reputation to uphold in the compound. Nat settled herself in the pilot seat and the jet rumbled to life.

The mission itself was rather simple. Tony and Steve had cleared the west wing of the base while Natasha, Wanda and you had done the east. After taking out a handful of agents and grabbing the hard drive of intel that shield needed, Nat holstered her gun and her and Wanda walked behind you as you made you way back to the jet. Wanda’s eyes fell on your ass as you walked. Widening slightly at the red patch between your legs.

You had never been one to make a big deal of your period with them, but Wanda didn’t think you appreciate it if the boys saw. Wanda nudged Natasha whose eyes were scanning the trees as you walked to the jet which was in the woods near the base. Natasha followed Wanda’s eyes and nodded in agreement. The two girls stopped their movement and as you realised, they were no longer following you, you turned around swiftly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in high alert now scanning the trees for a threat.

“Honey.” Nat said with a soft tone.

“Sweetheart here take this my love.” Wanda said handing you a jacket.

“W-why?” You asked starting to worry.

“Love your periods escaping a little.” Wanda said trying to make you laugh so you didn’t feel bad. At the look you had on your face Wanda began to get worried.

Your eyes widened and your breathing picked up. Wandas hand still held out the jacket, but you made no move to reach for it. Nat studied you every move as your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides. Fingers trembling slightly. Your breathing was now short as ragged as you struggled to get the air into your lungs. Your chest felt tight, and your heart began to race in your ears. Tears dripped down your cheeks and for a moment the two girls froze, unsure of what was happening.

Before they could react, you began to apologise profusely. Seemingly afraid of what they would do. Nat carefully took a step towards you, but you flinched back before your legs gave out and you curled up on the floor. Nat soon became aware of how exposed you were and simply shoved down her feelings. Gently she picked you up in her arms, unbothered as her suit was black and didn’t show blood stains. Wanda went ahead on high alert to protect the both of you. You sobbed and buried your face in Nat’s chest.

“It's ok love, we aren’t mad.” Nat said rubbing her hand up and down your back. She whispered words of reassurance and began to exaggerate her breathing as she realised how pale you were begging to look.

“Breathe with me my love. In deep for four. One…two…three… four. And hold…. Two … three … four. And out… two … three…four. You're doing so good for me lovebug.” She said coaching you through the panic attack. Once back on the jet Nat took you to one of the small rooms and sat on the floor with you still tucked into her.

Wanda sat next to Nat and rubbed your back as you continued to cry into Natasha’s neck. The two girls began to get a hold on your breathing. Still talking softly and reassuring you. Wanda had told Steve to pilot the jet as he was just as qualified as Natasha just not as smooth. Soon you found your head in Nat’s lap curled into her stomach as your legs rested in Wanda’s lap. Wanda drew shapes on your thigh as your breathing went back to normal. You pulled a hand to your eyes and began scrubbing at it harshly to get rid of the tears. Nat took your wrist in her hand and pulled it away from your face gently.

“None of that now love.” She said and pressed kisses to your knuckles. You felt a warm feeling in your chest at how they cared for you. Tentatively you asked.

“You're not m-mad?” You said and Nat frowned.

“Never my sweet.” Wanda said and Nat looked at you.

“Sweetheart we will never, ever be mad at you for the things your body does. We love you just the way you are. Period or no period.” Nat said pressing a kiss to your forehead. You buried your face in her stomach again.

“Thank you.” You mumbled into her skin and Wanda chuckled.

“Anytime sweetness.” She cooed.

MASTERLIST

[alaina-starling]

☁️Cuddles and Kisses☁️

[Lee Minho x Fem!Reader]

summary: reader is on her period, so Minho does the only sensible thing: give her kisses and cuddles (and orders her favorite food but that’s a surprise)

genre: fluff

warning: weird writing, idk i wrote this at 1am. tooth-aching sweet Minho, y/n speaking in another language(?), mentions of cursing god(s) lmao

note: okay so I know he doesn’t understand tagalog, but that diff breed filo skz stan in me kicks in and I have to make you speak tagalog😌💚 (it’s not really a warning but just an additional tag idk why it’s in warning lmao)

Masterlist

“Babe? Can you get me a soda from the fridge, please.” Minho’s shouts are muffled by the thick wooden door of his office but Y/n understood it nonetheless.

She takes small steps, her abdomen aching. She opens the refrigerator door, softly humming a song that pops in her mind. She vaguely remembers a gas station, two annoyed younger siblings in the car, and a steaming engine.

She chuckles, her warm hands touch the cold soda and she shivers. She takes a mental note not to leave her blanket anywhere on days when 40 millimeters of blood is gushing out of her vagina because of her uterus shedding some stupid lining that was prepared for a dumb fetus.

Y/n grumbles when she nears his door, wiping her numbing hand on her shirt then reaching for the door handle when it bursts open and she crashes with an excited Minho.

“Baby- oof!” He squeals, left hand finding her waist while the other grabs the falling soda can that’s about to crash to the floor.

She thanks the gods who gave Minho good reflexes, but curses the one who made him have a habit of not paying attention when opening doors.

“Oh dear, are you okay, hun?” He stabilizes her, his right hand tucking a stray hair that fell to her face. He cups her cheek and she melts to her boyfriend’s touch, leaning in.

He’s soft and passionate with the kiss, despite her neediness. Y/n lets out a whimper, the feeling of a sword stabbing and jabbing right on her abdomen and through her lower back engulfs her senses.

These cramps are messing her up, and yet again she takes a mental note not to miss her monthly chamomile tea before the ‘red’ curse enters (more like violently exits) her body.

“Hah, just peachy.” She huffs out before kissing him again, now biting gently at his lower lip.

“Nngh.” A soft noise slips out of his lips before he can stop it and Y/n stops kissing him, instead staring at him with disbelief etched on her face.

She stifles a laugh, preventing a gush that threatens to stain her pants. “Min?”

He smiles, laughing. This is her first time hearing him being vocal from a kiss, after all that’s always been her job. “Oh come on. You were biting me!” He defends and the look he has is enough to send her to the ground cackling.

“You’re too cute.” She manages to choke out as he pulls her up to carry her, settling her down on the couch. “Mmh, are you spending time with me instead of doing work because of my period situation?”

He nods, rushing to his office, she hears him shuffling around. Probably looking for his phone she thinks, turning her attention to the tv and realizing she doesn’t know where the remote is. “Min.” She calls for him, not wanting to move from her spot on the couch. “Lee Minho, where did you put the tv remote?” She finally shouts, head lifting to go look at what he’s doing in the other room.

He suddenly pops up behind the couch giving her a mini heart attack.

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles apologetically, “I left it in my room, here.” Minho holds her hand in his, giving her the remote.

Y/n smiles, patting the space next to her. Her boyfriend mirrors her, his lips tugging upwards. He lets his bunny slippers fall off his feet as he snuggles beside her, his back on the couch, his chest pressed against her own.

“Good?” He asks, running a hand through her ruffled hair.

“Mmh, as long as you’re here.”

10 minutes later she sees the doorknob of her front door turn, panic digs its claws on her throat and lungs, until she sees Hyunjin by the door. “Uh… Minho hyung, here are the things you asked for.”

[honestly switch to second person pov, im struggling af]

He sheepishly grins, demeanor shy from intruding your cuddle time. “I hope you feel better, Y/n noona.”

After Minho thanks him, Hyunjin bows a few more times before exiting your apartment and locking it with his, seemingly, own set of keys.

“Did you give Hyunjin your keys? Is that why you’re always locked out of your own home?” You tease and he playfully pouts.

“Oh, come on. You know you love helping a damsel in distress.” He jokes, cupping your face and leaving butterfly kisses all over.

You shy away, shifting your attention to the plastic of food Hyunjin brought. “Let’s eat,” you say, eager to taste Hyunjin’s cooking after not having his dishes for a long time.

Your boyfriend nods, standing up to get the plastic, two plates, two pairs of silverware and mugs. “Want the imported tea or the, uh,” he pauses, reading the small writing on the tea bag but not finding the name of the actual tea.

“Chamomile babe, thank you.” You answer, pulling the blanket by your feet over you. “Lamig naman, kakaiyak.” You sigh, complaining about the cold and half expecting him to turn the temperature a bit higher.

“What’s that, baby girl?” He hums from the kitchen, “You know I don’t understand the language, sorry.” He apologizes genuinely, feeling a bit guilty you’re learning korean but he isn’t making an effort to learn your language.

“It’s alright, Min. I’m sorry I didn’t notice, I said I’m cold.” You reply in a nonchalant tone, you don’t care at all, it’s not like he’ll be going to the country, and besides you only learned korean because you were going to the country.

When he finishes fixing you a cup of tea, he brings it to the table in the living room. Setting up everything else for your comfort, and not letting you do anything.

“Alright let’s watch that movie you keep talking about!” He starts excitedly, caressing your cheek before turning to the food and tv.

You relax the rest of the day, receiving absolute princess treatment from Minho. At the end of the day you’ve been pampered with kisses and lulled to sleep with cuddles.

Minho truly is a treasure.

Find all my works under #skzwife-02

[chai-berries]

after a particularly hard practice, abby comes home to you taking your midday nap. she slips her gym bag off her shoulder and tiptoes to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sleep shorts and a shirt. she internally thanks herself for taking a full shower after practice so she can quickly slide into bed with you. you’re on your back on your side of the bed and abby settles in, putting her head on your chest. you startle and abby feels bad but practically starts purring when you begin playing with her drying strands of hair. she presses a warm kiss to your collarbone in greeting as her body relaxes into yours and you’re both asleep in no time.