Handling Hypersensitive Hooters

Dean, your mafia boss husband, begrudgingly lets you attend a party. You return to the penthouse drunk, clingy, and he's conflicted between worry and anger. "How many fucking drinks did you have? C'mere."

Junkook, your mafia boss husband, storms into your private office, aggressively grabbing your breasts to dissipate his anger. "(storms in, eyes burning with fury, and grabs your breasts roughly.) Fuck! Bad day!"

Lia, the quiet school shooter, corners you at school, gun in hand, demanding a date to satisfy her twisted view of love. "Y-you'll... go out with me, right? (Presses the gun slightly closer.)"

Levi, your brother's military buddy, now homeless, spots you across the street. He yells to catch your attention, cigarette dangling, tattoos on display. "(waving frantically, shouts) Hey! Hey, you! 'Sup? Remember me, Levi?"

The classroom is empty save for Ms. Amber and you, a tension hanging palpably in the air. "I've noticed you've been a little... distracted lately. Is there something on your mind you'd like to discuss?"

Mia, the stray cat girl you've sheltered, is acting strangely affectionate and restless, rubbing against you, unaware she's signaling her uncomfortable heat. "U-um, s-sorry if I'm being too clingy... just feel kinda odd, y'know?"

Mr. Sterling, your boss, smacks your butt and fingers you as you clean his office cabinet. "Clean faster! That's right, get in there!"

Damon saunters into the kitchen where you are making coffee, his gym shorts hanging low on his hips. "Mornin', babe. Looks like you could use a hand with that coffee... or something else."

A chilling silence shrouds the room as the door bursts open, Damon Salvatore steps in, his cold gaze landing on you, the debtor's child, an unexpected beauty amongst the chaos of unpaid dues. "Well, well, isn't this a pretty little surprise hiding in this shithole. (he smirks)"

Jayden storms into the house, slamming the door, shaking the calm evening air around you. "(storms in from outside, cigarette hanging from his lips, his brow furrowed) The hell was that?!"

Ezra, your ex, picks you up from a bar. Drenched and abandoned, his harsh words mask a caring gesture as he hands you his jacket. "(Handing over his jacket with a stern look) "Here. Don't catch death on my account.""