Laundry Day

Title: Laundry Day
Author: RachDemented
Rating: NC-17 for subject matter.
Category: It’s pretty raunchy, definitely for mature audiences only. You’ve been warned!
Content: C/A
Summary: Dirty laundry only gets dirtier in the basement of the Hyperion Hotel.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Please ask.
Notes: I sincerely apologize for turning our salty-sweet Angel into a dastardly perv!
Feedback: Please

Cordelia Chase flipped open her new Cosmo and started searching for interesting articles. It was laundry day, boring day, and she was in for a wait as the washing machine had barely started to chug into its first cycle.“What Men Want, And How To Give It To Them,” She murmured.

Skimming through the first paragraph, she wrinkled her nose and flipped to a new page.

Really. What a dumb article. She was sooo over worrying about anything like that. It’d been months since she’d dated, at least six since there’d been a prospect of wanting to give any particular man anything he wanted, and over a year since she’d actually given that what a man needs!

And no way had the year been long enough. Not after that Wilson Christopher fiasco. Really!

That had been a nightmare. Sex had led to that scary nightmare. Sex. Had led to a nightmare. Sex equals Nightmare. Sex equals scary. Sex equals bad.

After that, Cordelia decided she never wanted to have sex again.

At least not for a while…not with a man anyway. And before you ask: No. Cordelia had not decided to become a lesbian, so she wouldn’t be having sex with a woman either.

Nope. No sex. Not at all…not with anyone other than herself that is, and that felt weird anyway. Like it wasn’t really real, or something. Who knows; maybe it just wasn’t her thing. Maybe she just hadn’t gotten the hang of it.

Maybe she wasn’t doing it right, but how could she know? It’s not like they handed out manuals or anything…

“How To Please Yourself, A Celibacy Savior: The Art Of Masturbation.” Cordelia raised a brow.
She’d had to bring her laundry over to Angel’s today. The dryers in her building were all out of order, not just one, ALL, all three, and she’d been waiting nearly a week for their repair. But the landlord just hadn’t gotten around to it yet, and Cordelia was tired of going clean-clothes-free.

She could’ve washed them there, then hit the local Laundromat to dry, but who wanted to drudge around wet clothes? Besides, washing clothes at Angel’s meant free washing. And free drying. And her pocketbook could definitely benefit that.

Cordelia was becoming immersed in this article. Who knew you could do THAT with a cucumber! She blushed slightly, glancing around even as she knew she was alone in the old basement, what with Angel still upstairs asleep (it was still morning, she’d came over early) and Gunn and Wesley not in the office yet.

Satisfied that she was completely, explicitly, and impeccably alone, and that it was safe to continue undetected, she continued to read the lurid, yet fascinating, article on…she couldn’t even bring herself to say the word! All right, here goes: “Masturbation.”

‘EW!’ Cordy wrinkled her nose, ready to cover her face in her hands.

It was such a…she didn’t know, weird word. It seemed so…private. And here these so-called “fashion” magazines were just putting it out there! Available for anyone to access!

(K, maybe that was a good thing, cause where else could Cordy look for m…m…pleasing yourself advice!) These magazines were on every shelf! Giving “how-to’s” and lesson plans and…Cordelia looked down at the page and turning the book sideways grimaced…diagrams!

God, this was sick! She was so ready to cancel her subscription! But instead, she turned the mag back upright and quickly continued the reading.

“When masturbation’s lost its fun, do something about it!”
What a freaky article!

Okay, so steps one through six were about getting in the right mood:

“Primping yourself up so you look attractive”… ‘Who cares?’ Cordelia thought. ‘It’s not like there’s anyone to impress! You don’t have to buy yourself a glass of wine and try to pick yourself up to go get you to do it at a cheap motel! Geez!

Really,… “Having a glass of wine so you feel loose,”… nice choice of word there. Makes me feel very confident…

“Wearing clothes that makes you feel sexy, like silk pajamas or that satin teddy that’s been sitting in the bottom of the drawer since you bought it as a motivational gift last Valentine’s Day,”… God, this was so hokey!

“Dress your body to dress your mood! Be sexy to feel sexy!” Oh brother.

Still, Cordelia looked down at what she was wearing and admitted she didn’t feel very sexy. Especially not today.

Seeing as it was laundry day and all, she didn’t feel that bad about it. Sweatshirts and old jeans weren’t the sexiest outfits to wear. But it’s not like she was going anywhere. She reasoned it was okay to be a slob once in a while, especially on laundry day! It’s not like she didn’t get dressed up on other days! She did!

Once…in…a…long while. And, so what! No, she didn’t feel sexy today! Not exactly the end of the masturbating world… But then she admitted that she rarely felt sexy at all, on average, on a day-to-day fighting evil basis, and that made Cordelia feel even more insecure with herself and this whole pleasuring yourself business then when she’d originally started out!

Who could want a non-sexy, unable to masturbate, dumbass like herself!

“Stupid magazine,” She cursed, skimming through to the next paragraph.

She read the whole thing, tips on fantasizing and all, and her heart sank just a little as she realized she had a hard time imagining anything but monsters and demons and visions (oh my!). The article said to fantasize about hot men (or women, she supposed, if you went that way or were a straight man reading this article) and as Cordelia closed her eyes, and tried to think of hot guys, she found out surprisingly that it wasn’t such a lost art to her!

Mmm, Ben Affleck. Mmm, Heeath Ledgerrr. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm…Braaaad Piiiitt.

Cordelia had to admit it; she did start to feel a little tingly!

Feeling warm and smiley, she opened her eyes and took another glimpse of the article, rereading the tips and how-tos.

Great. The next step was to fantasize about men you know. Hot guys that you may or may not be interested in, hot guys who make you feel hot, who turn you on, who make you feel sexy.

STUPID! If there was one, she’d have been throwing herself at him!!!

But Cordelia wanted to do it right, so she tried anyway. She closed her eyes and tried to think of hot guys she knew in real life who turned her on.

What guys did she know?…

Why was this so hard! What she sexually challenged, or something???


Oh, HELL NO! He was a hottie, sure! But not in the “I want to jump your bones” way! No, no, not at all! Cordelia giggled.

No, Lorne was a hottie in the adorable sense! She loved him for his charismatic personality, not a partner prospect of getting it on. Ha! Sex with Lorne! That was a laugh! Besides the fact that she got the distinct feeling that he usually swung the other way (every time Angel entered his bar, his big red eyes lit up with a smile!) Lorne wasn’t her type.

Tall, green and horny: Nope. Not her type at all. Besides…Was he even equipped to deal with human sexuality??? She thought not. It was a question she’d never, ever ask, and could only speculate on (and fortunately too, because if she fell for a demon like that…)

Uh oh. Angel.

She hadn’t meant to think of Angel! But the demon topic came up, and he just kinda…popped on in! Cordelia frowned, and tried to think of other guys she knew. Angel just couldn’t do! No way, no how!

That was…besides being sadistic and disturbing, it was icky! He was hot, though. Wait; stop! And he was definitely self-pleasure worthy…STOP IT, DAMMIT! K, he was NOT self-pleasure worthy to her, but she was sure he was to…someone.

Lorne? Hahaha, Cordelia chuckled. That was an unfounded observation. She had no proof of that…
K, forget Angel. No way, no how, time to move on. Other guys, other guys….Ah! Wes!

Wes??? Wesley??? NOooo. Been there, done that, not all its cracked up to be or what it should’ve been! The initial attraction had been there, yes…and he was still an attractive guy. But that was eons ago! And they couldn’t even get past a silly kiss!!! Haha, let alone sex! Or…haha, masturbational thoughts!!! But at least he was…human.

K, next…….Gunn???

Oh, what the hell was her brain doing! Not going there…

“Not these guys!” She snapped, shoving them out of mind. “Other guys! REAL guys! Guys I think are hot!”

But she just kept visualizing the usual suspects.

Angel, Wesley and Gunn: Definitely three men with potential hotness, and each in their own way. But definitely not guys she would want to fantasize about! Not that they’d ever know about it, but… EW! TOO WEIRD! Cordelia opened her eyes, scowling, and wiped her eyes as if to wipe their faces away.

Damn it! She wasn’t ready for that step! There just weren’t enough men in her life to accomplish that step anyway! Okay. Forget it. Go back to it later!

So, it’s back to Ben, Heath and Brad for now. And they would just have to do! Cordelia closed her eyes and again pictured the three of them, and again started to smile, and again started to feel warm.

When she thought she was ready, she went on to the next step.

“Touch yourself.” It says to touch yourself. Oh. My. God. Well…duh, I guess it does kinda go along with the purpose. Whatever. Just read Cordy. “…Run your fingers up and down a sensitive part of your body, and imagine it’s one of the fantasy men doing it.”

Okay, Cordy could do that! She set the magazine down, and looked at herself. Um, skin? Where? A place that was sensitive… She pushed up a sleeve and ran her fingers up her arm. Okay, that was stupid. Arm. Not sexy. Somewhere else. She looked at the magazine again for suggestions.

“Arm,” uh no, “Neck,” maybe, “Stomach,” sure why not, “Chest, breast,” Okay, getting a little embarrassing, “Thigh, clitoris-” Cordy dropped the mag. Oh no; she was so not going to touch THAT!

Especially not in the basement at Angel’s hotel! Maybe if she were home, alone, per say, in her room, with the door closed, and the blinds sealed tight, and in the dark…

Cordelia decided to forget the whole stupid thing. She closed the magazine and rolling it up, wrung at it with restless hands. She slapped it against her leg repetitiously, shifting her thoughts to more generic and not so…ew, masturbational, everyday topics, and tried to shake the uneasy feeling that her growing embarrassment was causing her.

Why was she so embarrassed anyway? It’s just an article. It’s natural…right? She remembered her previous failed attempts at pleasuring herself and cringed. Natural. Sure. Just not for her. Why couldn’t she masturbate? Why couldn’t she get it right?

Cordelia sighed, frustrated, and hunkered down on top of the still dryer just as the washing machine started its next cycle. “Whoa!” Cordy grabbed onto the side of the dryer as it bucked a little from the reverberation of the machine next to it.

Looking around wildly, she paused to take in the sudden and unexpected reaction from her…body.

“Okay! Didn’t expect that!” It jolted again, and startled, she grabbed at the corner of the dryer again. The washing machine chugged on. Cordelia slowly sat upright, her feet dangling from the edge of the other machine, while she halted breathing and waited for another.

“WHEW!……Hey…that was pretty…cool.” The washing machine broke into its spin cycle, and Cordelia hastily reached for the magazine.

Something startled Angel from sleep.

He sat up and looked around, a little disoriented until his senses fully awoke and now steady, was able to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He yawned, an involuntary reaction he sometimes still had, even after all these years of not breathing, and stared blankly at the wall.

He didn’t even notice he did it, the yawning. When he woke up from dreams like that, his body sometimes forgot that it wasn’t living anymore.

What had he been dreaming of?….oh yeah. THAT. Embarrassed but not blushing, Angel scratched his head.

The excitement of the dream must’ve woken him up. He glanced at the clock, realizing it was barely ten am, and with a rough growl, he turned to drop back onto his mattress. But then he heard something.

It was only slight, and he listened hard afterwards, trying to hear it again, to distinguish it from the other silent, barely there sounds in the hotel. He cocked his head, listening still, and swore he heard something sounding vaguely like….

It was a familiar sound; something, someone, he’d heard before somewhere, but he just couldn’t quite place it. Angel rose from his bed, and after slipping on some pants, ventured out into the hallway.

Cordelia was spinning! Her head was reeling, and she was hot all over, her skin puckering with goose bumps as the warmth was replaced with shocks of cold.

Who ever knew that doing laundry could be so fun! Now Cordy understood why decades of women had chosen to be stay at home moms while the husbands went out and earned the bacon. Or bread. Or dough. Whatever!

Cordy didn’t care; she was busy getting herself off for once.

And oh what a feeling! She breathlessly glanced at the article again, to make sure she was still doing it right. Well, obviously she had to have been!

If she weren’t, it wouldn’t be feeling like this! GOD! If this was just a spin cycle, she was definitely going to look into picking up a vibrator! She laughed at herself, squealing just a little as her body shuddered against herself.

Vibrators! HA! Half an hour ago, she couldn’t even THINK of doing this to herself, let alone buying herself a vibrator! That was an artifact only her mother had used!

No wonder her mother never paid much attention to her father! What the hell did she need him for anyway!

“MMm!” Cordy whimpered, biting her lip. God, if only she’d known sooner! Tears were springing into her eyes as she felt herself starting to climax. Suddenly her head was in a total spinout; flashes of images she’d never even expected spun out of control through her brain, and she found herself grabbing at them. It was a chain reaction; her body started to spasm, her hips started to rock, her heart was pounding frantically in her chest, and, eyes squeezed shut, she started to scream out.

She didn’t know why he was there, but suddenly he just was.

“ANGEL!” She screamed, visions of long, black leather swooshing over her mind. “Angel! OOOh, yeah, ANGEL!” And then she caught a glimpse of his face, and still yet, the smell of his skin which had been imbedded permanently into her memory. And then she imagined his cool hands on her, all over her, rubbing her, inside of her, and then…

And then she was suddenly coming. “Ohhhhhh, Annnngelllll!”

Falling back limp against the washer as it came to a standstill, she took a deep breath of air, and opened her heavy lidded eyes. She licked the salty sweat from her lips, savoring it and finding a surprising…pride in it.

(Hey! She’d done this to herself, after all! She actually did it! And damn, had it been good!)

She took a second to slop back her sweat-saturated hair, one hand brushing it from her eyes and back behind her ear as she slowly started to slide the other from her pants-

“CORDELIA!” Angel called, rushing through the basement door, and nearly taking it from its hinges as he charged through and down the steps, taking two or three at a time; his face flushed with fear and his body rigid with adrenaline.

He’d heard her screaming his name and was sure something must have been attacking her! “CORDELIA! WHAT IS IT! WHAT’S HAPP-“

“ANGEL!” Cordelia screamed, suddenly jerking herself from the compromising position on the washer, and jumping to her feet as she clutched frantically to zip up her pants and wipe off her hand…and put her bulging eyes back into her head where they so belonged and snap closed her mouth and make the attempt not to appear totally embarrassed or mortifyingly guilty.

But if anyone needed to put their eyes back in their head, it was Angel.

“Cordelia! Oh my GOD! What are you DOING!”

“Nothing!” She screamed, her face turning beet red as she tried to smooth back her hair and straighten out her disarrayed clothes. “Nothing, Angel! Just…just laundry!”

“Laundry?” He asked dumbly, his eyes flicking quickly from her to the empty laundry basket on the floor and then back to her again.

“YES! LAUNDRY!” She yelled. To prove it, she frantically opened the washing machine lid, it falling back in a resounding snap as it hit the control panel, and grabbed at the wet clothes within. But her hands were shaking, violently without mercy, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

Angel lingered a few yards before her, his face completely white with shock, and his mouth agape, as he couldn’t think of what to say. His head was still trying to process what he’d thought he’d just seen when a sudden aroma stirred him from his inebriated state.

At first not understanding, Angel started to question. But as he took a step closer, simultaneously opening his mouth to speak, he got another, stronger, more striking whiff of…something, and his brow furrowed in confusion and his mouth closed in a thin line, and then something suddenly clicked and Angel realized what it was that he smelled.

“Cordelia?” He gasped, certainly in the tiniest voice; shocked and bewildered but at the same time, most unadmittedly intrigued.

Her jaw dropped, and she started to pace the floor. “OH MY GOD!”


“OH MY GOD!” She covered her face in her hands.


“OH MY GOD ANGEL!” She pleaded desperately. “I…I…I SO CAN NOT HANDLE THIS RIGHT NOW! I…I have to go! SORRY!” Forgetting the laundry, and keeping her eyes pointed directly at the floor in a desperate attempt to avoid anymore humiliating eye contact with the vampire, she fled the basement; pushing past him with extreme force and sending him back a few steps even as their bodies never met.

She ran with shame.

Angel looked after her in earnest; watching as she raced up the steps and out the door without even giving him an opportunity to apologize…for what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he was sure there was something he needed to apologize for, busting in on her without knocking maybe?

But shouldn’t she have locked the door?…He would have gladly apologized, no doubt about it! It seemed like a good time to, and what else could he have done?

He watched her disappear out of sight. She ignored the door barely hanging on its hinges, and left him alone to stand dumbly in the silence. He heard her feet pounding across the tile upstairs towards the front doors and then out of the hotel. He heard the hotel doors bang closed with a resounding crack, and realized (to his unbeknownst relief) that she was gone.

He awkwardly turned in the wide space, staring at the open washing machine lid, the empty laundry basket on the floor and the empty space where she’d just been…standing, only seconds before.

Angel sighed in awe.

He tried to calm down; chill out his thoughts, now unquestioningly running rampant in his head. He tried to ignore the musky, but sweet, smell of…her that tugged mercilessly at his senses… But it was hard to rebuff. Angel walked slowly towards the basket, and picking it up, he carried it over to the machines.

The smell was even stronger here. He started to reach for the wet clothing inside, but had to stop himself. He closed his eyes, and had to calm his reactions and get a hold of himself. If he didn’t stop it right now, he was going to vamp out and…well…hump everything in sight!

He admitted it; he was getting horny! He could smell it, for god’s sakes! He could smell…her. He might as well have been staring down at her naked body on his bed—waiting, begging, reaching, wanting. Sex was sex was sex! Smells, tastes, sight…they were one in the same!

God, how he suddenly wanted to fuck … something…

He was a man, after all, and arguably, an animal. And he had manly needs. And animalistic needs. Savage needs even, and the fresh smell of a woman was not the thing to help him keep it in check!

Angel rubbed his hands harshly over his face, up and down angrily, while he made the effort to clear his head. He’d almost gotten himself under control when he opened his eyes; committing to finishing her laundry at least (it was the least he could do after all…after embarrassing her, and now embarrassing himself with all of…this) and then going back upstairs and back to bed.

He’d worry about facing Cordelia and the unavoidable awkwardness later.

Holy shit. He’d caught Cordelia…masturbating.

But as he stretched a hand down into the wet clothes, he spotted the magazine rolled up on top of the dryer. After watching it briefly, his curiosity got the better of him and he picked it up. He could tell her fingers, yes, those fingers, had touched these very pages, and it excited him.

Holding it out and away from him was the only way he could keep from smashing it to his nose to take a deep breath. He swallowed hard, and carefully opened it up to the folded over page that Cordelia had been reading, he glanced down at it, and upon a double take his eyes went wide.

Angel started to read.

A few moments later, eyes wide, and lips pursed in awe, Angel dropped the magazine back onto the dryer. What things they allowed in print now a days! He regarded it intently, watching in both disgust and captivation and outright anxiety as if it might jump off the dryer and attack him.

Perturbed and shaken, and definitely disturbed, Angel hastily reached again for Cordelia’s wet clothing. He should’ve left well enough alone. Shoving socks and jeans and t-shirts and a cute summery blouse into the dryer, he made the mistake of stopping to read the care label on one of the items to make sure he wasn’t drying something wrong.

He’d already mortified his seer, and probably detrimentally scarred his relationship with her forever. After all that, he didn’t want to ruin her clothes too. Cordy’s clothes were hard to come by. After all, he should know…

This shirt was okay to tumble dry low. He tossed it into the dryer, and reached into the washer again.

He hadn’t even thought of grabbing a tiny red thong.

Angel hissed in a breath as he realized what he was holding. Jumping back, his fingers clenched around the article of…clothing, (does it even count???) and his stomach jerked in reaction to the feel of Cordelia’s lingerie in his grasp.

Staring at it left him enraptured. And then he was hit with that resounding smell again. And then a low growl escaped him, and his body started to harden.

Eyes glued to the tiny red panty, the thin strip of material that rested and touched and covered her body intimately, down…there, Angel shuddered. Taking a deep, unneeded breath, and sucking in the taste of her, he sighed and scowled, and then, low and behold, even surprising himself, he picked up the magazine.

Skimming across the tips and how-to’s, Angel regarded the underwear.

And then he started to touch himself.

“Ohhh, Cordy,” He whispered. Closing his eyes, he saw her how he always saw her in his dreams, and he heard her whimper the way he’d heard her on the washing machine.
“ohhhh, Cordyyyy.”



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