Currently thinking about A!Zoro and O!Sanji who go absolutely feral during their heats and ruts. Like Sanji has always felt vunerable during his heats so he's incredibly territorial and he refuses to leave his nest. No one can be near his nest during it; even if someone just walks by, they can hear him snarling through the door and if they don't get away quick enough he'll actually come out to fight. He's really violent in the days leading up to it too, he snaps and growls and it kind of weirds everyone out because Zoro is usually the one openly acting like an animal. Sanji also hoards food; the crew can tell he's about to go into a heat because he'll start eating less (he'd never let his pack be affected by his own issues so he'll make sure he's the one taking the cut so he can hide away more food for his heat).

Zoro is already feral in general, but during his ruts he likes being able to show off his strength and the best way for his to get all his excess energy out is for him to go out and run around and fight with people. He can and will leave the 'den' Chopper tries to make him stay in. All he does is wrestle Luffy or swim laps though so none of the crew members worry about him when he's running around in rut. When the crew first got together he wasn't allowed to do that though, because everyone was scared he'd lose control and he's literally one of the strongest on the crew. Having a huge alpha lost in a rut could be detrimental for them. But now they all know how he is and that he has really good control of his instincts so they don't really care.

When Zoro and Sanji first decided to share Sanji's heat the crew does start to worry. They already take their fights too far sometimes, and a heat is such a fragile thing for Sanji. What's gonna happen when he feels backed into a corner or something? Or when Zoro feels like he needs a fight? Chopper tries to tell them it's a bad idea, but both of them are confident it'll be fine. And they're both adults so it's not like anyone can really stop them or tell them no. Chopper does set ground rules for them though. Franky sets up a room for them that's close to the main deck because Chopper told them they needed to be in a place where Sanji could be heard if he needed help. Which is so unfortunate for everyone else because yeah, it's good to make sure they can hear in case of an emergency, but that means they can also hear when Sanji screams about.. other things. But they all agree it's safest this way.

So Sanji's heat comes and on the first day they can hear Sanji yelling about every movement Zoro makes. He yells at him for moving pillows or for not 'feeding him right', there are even a few times where he yells about the way Zoro is breathing. It makes everyone's anxiety about the situation even worse. The second day Sanji doesn't yell as much. But there is a lot of banging, it sounds like they're fighting. At some point Zoro screams about a cheap shot and it becomes apparent that yeah, they're brawling down there. Which is fine. They have yet to take it too far, and it's sounds like they're having fun so it's whatever. Nami sort of hopes this all they do during this heat because she really does not want to hear anything else. By the evening everyone has relaxed because those two haven't freaked out or tried to kill each other. It's absolutely silent for a good few hours and the crew figures they must've tired themselves out and fell asleep.

Until they hear Sanji let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The whole deck goes still except for Luffy who stands up and is immediately making his way to their room. He doesn't get passed the stairs before it changes. It fizzles into a crude laugh, and then it's paired with a laugh from Zoro as well. Sanji talks through his giggles, saying something about winning again and Zoro's voice is much quieter complaining that it's cheating for Sanji to act likes he's hurt. the rest of the crew sags in relief above them. Chopper fully intends to chew Sanji out for that, but he's fairly certain the they were right, spending Sanji's heat together would turn out fine.

The Heating Pad

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader 

*(Can be within or without Fix You Universe)

Summary: Frankie tries to help you when you wake up with severe menstrual cramps

Word Count: 1300

Rating: R

A/N: This is incredibly self indulgent, and I know this has been done before by many people but I do not care. I have seriously bad periods and this month I wanted some Frankie comfort so here we are. 

Chapter Warnings: cussing, discussions of periods and cramping

So, this is your least favorite way to wake up. It’s not gradual, not a jolt either. A groggy slipping out of consciousness and slamming immediately into a wall of pain.

You are careful not to shift on the bed or create any rustling that would wake Frankie as you sit up and bend over yourself, trying to make the pain lessen as you compress your abdomen.

“Fuck.”

It’s bad this month. It’s always bad, but you haven’t been woken up from your cramps for a while now. The bloating. You can’t fit into half of your pants. The fatigue. You’re constantly taking naps. The pain. You grimace and push your fingertips into the cramping muscle, still not understanding why it helps but knowing it eases the hurt, your other hand gripping the soft top sheet in a white knuckle grip of tension.

When the pangs subside you slide your legs to hang over the side of the bed, resting your elbows on the tops of your thighs to rest your face in your hands. You need more pain pills. When was the last time you took them? You grab your phone from the nightstand, the fluorescent light almost blinding you and you huff a curse once more when you get your answer. 

2:46 AM. The ibuprofen was taken around 11:00 PM. Every four hours…

Close enough. 

You lurch forward to stand up, the side of the bed dipping as you stand in the dark and gain your bearings.

“Baby?” 

Shit.

You turn back to the voice behind you. “Hey. Shit, sorry, I was trying not to wake you.”

The nightstand lamp on his side of the bed flashes and mattress springs creak as he shifts. You blink rapidly as your eyes adjust to the light.  “Where are you going? You okay?” His voice is smooth and soft. It comforts you more than you thought it would.

“Yea. Actually...no. I got my period and I’m cramping, but it’s okay. I was just going to go get some ibprofen.”

You hear two thumps as he jumps out of bed and onto the chilled wooden floors of your bedroom and Radar hops off after him, the nails of his paws clacking against the surface 

“Let me get it. Sit back down.”

You cross your arms around yourself as he fumbles out of the dark room, but only a few seconds go by before you’re sliding your hand back down to the crease of your pelvis, the warmth of your palm acting as a warm compress on the agitated muscles. The wet press of Radar’s nose slides through your lower thighs as he settles his head between your knees.

You chuckle and mimic his voice. “I know how to make you feel better mommy! Pet me!” But you oblige anyway, reaching down to thread your fingers through the soft fur surrounding his neck as another wave of pain hits you. 

Frankie’s back before you can extricate yourself from the dog’s massive frame, shuffling back into the room with a yawn holding the entire bottle of ibuprofen and what looks like a small mat with a cord. 

“I didn’t know how many you needed, so I just brought the whole bottle.” Frankie smiles sheepishly. 

You inhale sharply, the roiling back and forth of pinching muscles becoming really old really fast, and you ease your butt back onto the mattress in physical exhaustion. “It’s fine. Thanks for getting the meds for me. What’s the other thing?”

He doesn’t answer, simply moving to your side and bending over to plug the cord into the wall before facing you again while you swallow the pills. “It’s a heating pad.”

You furrow your brow, looking at him questioningly. “Since when have you had that?”

That telltale sign of nervousness shows again, his broad palm sliding up his neck to cup the back of it, fingers sliding through his mussed bed hair. “I uh...I’ve been having back issues occasionally.” He meets your eyes, cheeks blushing lightly. “Getting older.”

You love when he gets like this. Bashful and vulnerable, his brow tilted, eyes wide and puppy-like, lips in a slight downward pout. He’s still not great at being open and vulnerable to you, but he’s getting better every day. It makes it special, when he can admit something that bothers him because by now he trusts you more than anyone. You take his wrist and gently pull him down to you for a kiss. “Still handsome though. And so fucking sweet. Now come here.”

He grins moves around to his side of the bed, sliding in to curl himself against your side while you arrange the heating pad under the waistband of your pajama pants and over your uterus. You hum as he nuzzles in, wrapping his arms around you, the jolting bounce of Radar hopping back up the bed making you giggle. Radar curls up once more at the foot of the bed, plopping down with his chin on your leg. He lets out a huff of annoyance, just to make sure you two know how inconvenienced he is at being woken up abruptly, only to return back to bed.

Frankie’s breathing slows as he falls back to sleep quickly, his exhales blowing warm on the back of your neck. On a better night, the rhythm would ease you to sleep too, but it’s not enough tonight. The sharp and pinching pains return, a twisting stabbing so bad you can feel tears press out of your eyelids as you try to keep quiet again. 

A large hand suddenly cups your cheek in the dark, the heat of it soaking up the wetness on your skin. Frankie gently turns your head to his, sliding his hand to the back of your neck to pull your forehead to his, circling the side of your neck with his thumb.

“Shhhhhhhhhh.” He coos. “It’s okay baby. It’s okay. Just breathe.” 

You wince and whimper again, trying to take his advice and breathe in and out calmly. He places the flat of his hand on your stomach, sliding it down to rest under the heating pad in that spot, the spot his observant eyes noticed you often hold during previous cycles. 

“Oh god…don’t. I’m so fucking bloated.” You groan.

“I don’t care. Still beautiful.” He whispers as he pushes down softly, compressing the muscle slightly in his grip.

“Is this okay?”

“Yea. It’s good.” You stifle a sob at his care and attention, playing it off as a cry of pain, eventually just twisting under his arm to lay on your side in front of him. He follows, his hand never leaving your skin, his arm drawing you and the heating pad close as he curls against your back. His hooked nose traces back and forth into your hairline, those warm breaths returning to settle you, and he places a few soft kisses on the skin under your hair.

“I love you baby. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

You hum, shifting back more against his chest. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You never do. And you shouldn’t have to just be hurting alone. Not when I’m here.”

That sob does come out now, and it’s an unmistakable cry of happiness as you twist to kiss his dry sleep lips. “I love you too, Frankie.”

The two of you nuzzle back into each other, no other words needing to be said. Frankie has you. And you have him. Always. 

Eventually, his tender care starts working. Or maybe it’s the heating pad, or the pills, or maybe all three, but within fifteen minutes the two of you are both fast asleep.

Radar

Fic: Relief

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x female reader (cishet, no y/n, no kids, reader is on her period)

Warnings: Mutual hand jobs during period, blood is mentioned but not featured. Cramps described.

Summary: Frankie knows how to deal with cramps. Frankie's got you.

You exhale a sigh of relief when you step underneath the hot spray of water. Shuddering at the sudden heat of the shower, you tense up for a second before relaxing and turning your face up towards the stream. As you get used to the temperature, you turn up the heat a little more and carefully rub your lower back and stomach to spread out the warmth over the bloated, aching parts. You got your period this morning and have spent the day with a nagging ache radiating from your stupid fucking uterus. Towards the evening, the cramps worsened and you didn't eat much during dinner. Frankie had suggested you take a shower and an early night, let him worry about cleaning up, but you were loath to just let everything go because of something you've experienced once a month for over half your life. Besides, this wasn't even the worst your body could throw at you: you were still functioning. Uncomfortable, yes, but not bedridden and vomiting. After a few chores, however, you figured you had done enough for the day, and decided to take Frankie's advice.

The hot water relaxes you and for a long while, you just stand underneath the stream, eyes closed and one palm resting on your lower abdomen, relieved that the shower is taking the edge of the pain, but you're still feeling swollen and sore. Finally opening your eyes, you reach for the shampoo just as the door opens and Frankie comes in. He’s wearing only a t-shirt and boxer briefs, and proceeds to shed these quickly before getting into the shower booth with you.

”How’s you, gorgeous?” he murmurs into your ear, slipping his arms around you from behind.

A little flutter in the pit of your stomach brings forth a smile on your lips, and you put the shampoo bottle away.

”Surviving.”

”I know you’re in pain but fuck, I love it when your tits and ass swell up like this.”

He moves his large hands to your ass cheeks and squeezes, before trailing his fingers lightly up your sides and to your front, covering your breasts. He’s a lot more careful with them than with your ass; experience has taught him that if he’s too rough when they’re tender, he’ll get punched in the face. (For real: you were once taken by surprise by his well-meaning but slightly too rough grip, the sudden pain making you startle in a perfect backwards headbutt. He got a nose bleed and you felt awful, but he felt worse, not from pain but for having hurt you.)

”It’s not as bad as it was two days ago. I wouldn’t even have let you touch them,” you let him know, the flutter in your stomach intensifying when Frankie brushes his fingers over your stiff nipples.

”I know, and it’s torture. They were bigger two days ago. But I just have to make do...”

He trails kisses down your shoulder, one hand staying on your breast and the other wandering down between your legs, finding your clit. You exhale in a soft sigh.

”I’m bleeding a lot," you warn him with a low moan. ”And I’m sore, Frankie, I... I don’t want you in me.” You feel awful for telling him this because you usually always want him in you, but right now, you would just be uncomfortable. It's not the blood, it's the overall uneasiness.

”Don’t worry baby, I know what you need,” he whispers in a low growl, his breath hot on your ear. You feel him grow hard against your butt, so your lean back, pressing yourself against his dick, just as he starts to rub your clit gently with two fingers. Sparks run up and down your body as you let out another sigh before turning your head so you can reach his mouth. You find it, but also get hit full on in the face by the shower, so you giggle and wipe at your eyes. Frankie chuckles as he redirects both you and the shower head before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you like only he can, lightly but with commitment. You've never been with anyone who could kiss like Francisco Morales. Then again, you've never loved anyone as much as you love him, never wanted anyone like you want him. Never been safe enough with anyone to want them so much, so bad, so fully.

He pinches your nipple a little too hard, and you bite his lip in return. You both grunt and fall back.

”Sorry,” he smiles. You smile back.

”No you’re not...”

You reach behind yourself, find his dick, and start to stroke it. Frankie leans his forehead to the back of your head, breathing audibly, his hand working faster between your legs. You moan and find the wall with your free hand to support yourself. The dull ache of your cramps is now shadowed by the escalating pull in your groin and despite the hot water, your skin prickles over for a moment, your arousal manifesting in goosebumps that quickly disappear in the stream of hot water.

Frankie's breathing is shallow against your ear, echoing your own, both of you breathing more audibly, exhales turning into small, short moans as you take each other closer to the edge. You're finding it difficult to work Frankie's hard dick with your hand awkwardly reaching behind yourself, but he doesn’t seem to have any complaints. You think dimly that if this doesn’t work out, you can suck him off once you're undone. He’d like that. Or...

”Wanna cum on my ass, baby?” you invite him in a breathless whisper. ”Wanna cum on my round, soft ass?”

”Fuck,” Frankie groans, flipping a couple of wet, heavy strands of hair out of the way before kissing your neck and sucking into the skin. You hiss and do your best to jerk him off faster, but your hand is no longer functioning optimally as you're closing in on your orgasm. You don't want to grab him too hard, so you let go of him and braze yourself with both hands against the tile wall. Panting, you bite down on your lower lip and hold your breath –

– and release a low keen, a tiny shudder traveling through your body as the orgasm relaxes and tenses you up, simultaneously, wonderfully. Frankie doesn't give your clit a rest when he grabs his cock, taking over where you left off.

”Cum on my ass, baby,” you beckon him, breathless and still riding the waves of your orgasm, ”that’s it, cum on my ass...” You tense up again, your fingers clawing helplessly on the walls without finding a grip, and your legs shake as you mewl your way through another release.

Despite the flowing water from the shower, you feel the hot spurts of cum on your ass cheeks. Frankie curses in a strangled voice and releases your burning bundle of nerves, slapping both hands to your hips and pulling you to him, pressing a gasping, open-mouth kiss to your shoulder. You feel him tremble about as much as you yourself are and very carefully, you take your hands off the wall and put them over his. You lean back and feel his chest heave against your back. He murmurs in appreciation at the contact.

”Damn, baby.”

”Uh-huh.”

You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, gazing into those wonderful brown eyes of his.

”You’re so good to me,” you say sincerely. Frankie smiles softly, sliding his hands down to your ass.

”It’s because your ass is awesome,” he grins before dipping down to kiss you. ”And because I love you.”

He helps wash your hair, something he's done plenty of times before but still makes you purr with pleasure. You return the favor and it gives you the same kind of gratification to see how much he appreciates it as well.

After the shower, when you're dry, warm, and dressed in pj's, you go to the kitchen to put your rice heat pack in the microwave. Your cramps have subsided considerably, but you still want to keep your belly warm.

"You hungry?" Frankie asks, rummaging through the fridge. "You hardly ate anything."

"I'll have a cup of tea. Eating makes me so gassy," you grimace. It doesn't matter what you eat during your first two days on your period: your stomach turns upside down.

”Okay, baby." Frankie goes to the cupboard where the coffee and tea are stored. "The pink box?"

"Thanks, yeah, that's the one." You accept the box of tea from him, and your big teacup. Frankie fills the kettle with water and turns it on, before leaning against the sink.

"Wouldn’t want you to fart in your sleep all night,” he teases you with a little smirk. ”I’d send you to the couch immediately.”

”Here we go,” you sigh theatrically as you move into his embrace. ”Total asshole as soon as your dick’s back in your pants.” You kiss his nose before giving it a little nip.

”I was so good to you only thirty minutes ago," he reminds you, feigning offense. You scoff, but you also can't help smiling widely. He's always so good to you, every day. You can't believe your luck.

The microwave pings and you pick out the pad and grab your tea. On your way to the living-room for an uneventful rest of the night on the couch in front of the tv, Frankie catches you in his arms. Pressing his sharp nose to your neck, he inhales deeply and hums in approval.

”Feeling better?”

”If I say yes, are you gonna be a smug asswipe about it?”

”You bet.”

"Then no, I feel like shit." Sweetly, you bat your eyelashes at him. "You're going to have to make at least a bit of an effort."

"I like a challenge."

He follows you to the couch and not even half an episode of Parks and Recreation later, you're admitting that you feel a lot better. Another two episodes, and you're asleep against his side.

You know what the worst thing is? It’s when you love thirsty Thursday but you’re fresh out of thirsty ideas! Do you have any idea how horrible of a feeling that is!? Do YOU have any thirsty thoughts for Will by chance?

Hmmm, okay, honey, *cracks knuckles*. @the-purity-pen you asked me this

Female Reader and 18 + ONLY for p in v sex, multi-partner sex, anal, oral, degrading language; calling reader slut, whore. Cum, lots of cum. This is probably the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. That’s saying something. 

Previously... 

Will has one rule when it comes to the boys watching him fuck you, that that is all they can do, look but don’t touch. Your body, your pleasure, your moans, your heart is for him only. But that doesn’t mean that the boys don’t love to watch.

The three of them are sitting around the coffee table in the living room, and you can see their cocks in their hands stroking themselves as you pant, Will fucking you hard into the couch. Your standing, bent down over the back, while your boyfriend fucks you so deep you can see the fucking milky way with a blind eye as his friends watch.

“Do you like it when they watch us, honey?” Will asks, biting your ear and sucking it between his lips, “do you like them watching you cum, soaking my cock, listening to those little whimpers you make?” You whine when he reaches a hand around and dips his fingers against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves there.

“What if tonight we did something different?” he asks, and you look over your shoulder, seeing his smirk. “This time, I want to watch them fuck you, all of them, while I sit there like a King, watching my Queen gets fucked. Would you like that, baby?” You bite your lip hard and nod, words unable to form.

“You hear that boys, let me paint this pretty cunt, and then she’s all yours. But none of you better cum inside her; she’s still all mine. Isn’t that right, Princess?”

You scream his name as he cums deep inside you, thick ropes of hot cum painting your walls as you clench around him, cumming with him. “So fucking pretty,” he grunts, pulling you up and slipping out, giving you a languid kiss. “You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum baby, now, go and sit on Frankie’s cock. I know you’ve always wanted to. Santi in your mouth and Benny in your ass,” your eyes widen, and he chuckles darkly. “Oh baby, we are just getting started.”

And now... 

“Is this okay for you, honey?” Frankie asks, always the sweetest of the bunch. 

“Oh, she loves being a little cock slut, don’t you honey?” Will asks, his hand around your neck as he turns you to look back at him. He licks your cheek, and you shiver, closing your eyes; you love how filthy he can be. “Tell them.” 

“I’m a little cock slut, please,” you whimper, and he turns your head to look back at the other three, “please let me fuck you.” Will chuckles and pushes your back closer, releasing your neck. 

“Sit down, Morales, my Queen, wants to ride your cock,” Will leaves you standing there beside Frankie. His cock red and leaking with how turned on he is. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Will takes a seat on the couch across from you and cracks open a beer, “unless one of the others wants to fuck her pussy first, she is so tight. Feels like fucking heaven.” 

Frankie sits up and reaches a hand out for you, guiding you closer. You bend your knees on either side of his thighs and grab his cock in your hand. He takes a deep breath, and you go to lower yourself down when Will lets out a warning, “don’t you dare fucking cum inside her; she’s mine. You may be able to fuck her, but when you all leave, it’s my bed she’s in. Any babies she has will be mine. Do you understand?” 

Frankie nods, keeping you poised over his cock as Benny hands him a condom. He quickly tears it open, pulling it down and helping to guide you down to sit on his cock. You both groan at the stretch; the way he fills you is fucking delicious. “Now you Benny, get the lube and play with her ass; she loves it when you bury your fingers in her ass when she rides my cock. Dirty little slut, I know what you like, baby.” You clench around Frankie at his words, and he grabs hold of your hips, pressing you forward to lay against his chest. 

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers against your lips, and you nod. He wastes no time, sliding his tongue inside your mouth to tangle with your own. You whimper when you feel Benny’s thick finger pressing against your ass. His finger coated in a thick layer of watermelon scented lube, a favorite of yours. He works his way inside you, and you clench around Frankie, much to his delight as he hums against your lips, “fuck, you feel so good,” he slurs drunk on your pussy. 

Benny’s finger slides in with ease, and he bends down to add another finger, “fuck Fish, you can see her slick sliding down your thighs; you like that, sweetheart? Like it when Fish has his cock inside you?” You nod, pulling away from Frankie and looking up through your lashes at Santiago. He reaches a hand out and twists your nipples between the rough pads of his fingers. 

“Think of how good it will feel when Benny puts his cock in your ass, honey, and Santiago in your mouth. My three best friends, fucking all of your holes.” Will chimes from his seat over on the couch, his cock in his hand as he watches you fuck his friends. 

“Do you want me to fuck you in this pretty little ass?” Benny mumbles, biting on your naked shoulder as he kneels on the chair. It’s a tight fit with the three of you, but you press deeper against Frankie’s chest as he reclines slightly. Santiago’s cock is lined up with your mouth, and you gasp at the first press of Benny’s cock. The warmth of your arousal soaking Frankie’s cock. Santiago sees his chance and, as you inhale, slides his cock all the way to the back of your throat, gagging and choking on him. 

Saliva drips out of your mouth, and Frankie puts your breasts in his mouth, biting down on the nipple as Benny slides the rest of the way inside. He seems to have no problems with you sucking his best friend's cock above his head, his hips rocking in time with Benny. The two cocks feel so fucking good buried deep inside your ass and pussy, and you never want it to end. You want to scream as you cum for the second time that night, Benny letting out a deep chuckle, “did she just cum?” 

Frankie pulls off your breast with a pop and grins, “yes, she fucking did, soaked my cock in those delicious juices.” He looks over at Will, “can I eat her pussy when we’re done? I bet she’ll taste delicious.” 

“Don’t be fucking greedy Fish,” Will hisses, “make my woman cum, don’t slack. The only one that will be eating that juicy pussy is me.” 

Frankie frowns but resumes his attention to your breasts, Santi’s cock so far down your throat, his hands on your head keeping you in place as he fucks your mouth. “Fuck, her mouth feels like heaven,” Santi groans. 

“I want to fuck her mouth next time,” Benny pants behind you, his fingers are going to leave bruises with how hard he is fucking you, but you don’t care. You will wear those damn marks like a badge of honor. 

“I’m close,” Frankie pants, his hips fucking up into you. “Ben?” 

“Fuck, me too. I want her to cum again,” he reaches a hand down between you and finds your clit, moving his fingers in rapid circles. Your eyes widen around Santi, and you squeeze the two cocks inside you. “She likes this, don’t you baby?” 

“I’m gonna cum,” Santi pulls out at the last second and shoots his cum on your face and onto your breasts, his breath coming out in pants. You groan, licking some of the cum off your lips. You feel the pleasure building and throw your head back against Benny with a scream as you cum for the third time. 

“Shit, she’s fucking gorgeous,” Benny praises, “so beautiful covered in cum.” He glances down at Fish and over to Will, “can we all paint her? It’s not cumming inside her.” 

Will gives one sharp nod, and Benny pulls out, Frankie pushing you up and off his cock with a whimper. “Kneel, honey,” Will says, and you kneel the three of them standing over you; Frankie rips off the condom and tosses it somewhere behind him. They pump their cocks until you hear the first strangled groan from Frankie. You close your eyes and open your mouth as they all three cum simultaneously, coating you in their cum. 

The streams cross paths, and you honestly don’t know who the fuck is on your tongue, but you don’t care, licking it off your lips and opening your eyes. The four of them are staring at you with lazy, smug smiles, and you give them a giggle. “How do you feel?” Will asks, helping you to your feet gently and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I’m good, baby, just a little tired.” 

“I’m going to go take her for a shower.” Will commands the room, “Pope get her something to eat, Frankie get her a water, and Benny cleans up the living room.” They all nod, getting to work, and Will picks you up and carries you to the bathroom shutting the door behind him and putting you on the counter. He steps between your legs and cups your cheek, “are you really okay?” he asks, the softness seeping through. 

“I’m wonderful, that was...intense...but really fucking good. Can we...can we do that again sometime?”

He chuckles and kisses you softly, not bothered by the fact that you’re still covered in cum, “anything you want, my Queen, anything you want.”

HILARY YES i am SO GLAD you are back i have had the WORST WEEK and i logged on specifically to see if you were back and seeing that you've been restored has made me so happy

Frank wakes up very early. That’s not unusual; many years of four-am reveille and crack-of-dawn wakeup calls, patrolling the empty desert under an endless canopy of stars, and then rolling out of God knows what shithole motel or back alley or battle van, wherever he’s accustomed to spending the night, in advance of whoever may be chasing him, means that he rarely sleeps more than two or three hours at a time. Sometimes he gets up and paces around the place and checks that the doors are locked, sometimes he sits by the window, sometimes he just rolls over and watches Karen sleep. He likes to do that, likes to know that he’s guarding her, though he hasn’t mentioned it to her in their waking hours. It’s just something for him and the night to share, her dreaming.

It’s cool and pink and grey in the room, and he glances over at the other side of the bed automatically.  For once, Karen appears to have beaten him to the punch, since the covers are made and the pillows tidied, and even if it thus does not appear that she was dragged out bodily by some thug while he failed to awake, it jerks him upright; he never likes not knowing where she is. He throws the quilts aside and swings out of bed in his undershirt and boxers, padding into the kitchen. “Karen? Karen, hey, are you – ?”

She’s sitting at the table, a half-drunk mug of coffee clutched in her hands, staring at nothing. She’s not entirely a morning person by nature, so it strikes him that this solitary awakening has to have something else behind it, and he crouches carefully into her field of view, as if afraid of setting her off. “Karen?” he says again. “Talk to me, huh?”

She looks up at him, only then seems to realise that he’s there, and blinks, sniffing hard and rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s just – I was thinking about Kevin. You know. My brother. Today was – today is his birthday.”

“Ah.” Frank doesn’t need to know more, is all too well aware of the thrall of lost loved ones from beyond the grave, missed moments and impossible memories. Karen has spent so much time caring for him, dealing with all his shit and trauma, his flashbacks, his nightmares, his grouchy-ass tendency to wall her out and try to go it alone, and he doesn’t want to do that anymore. Awkwardly, he sits down across from her. This kind of thing is Curt’s bag, not his. “You, uh. You wanna talk about him, or something?”

Karen grins, slightly watery, as if she knows that he is wildly over his head in this, but appreciates the effort. She puts the cup on the table and reaches out to take his hand, and they sit there, looking at their interlinked fingers. They sit there in silence – for all that she pushes him to open up about his pain, Karen is sometimes no better about trusting him with hers – and then she takes a deep breath. “I guess I was just wishing that you could have met him. I think you two would have liked each other. You could have been – well, our dad wasn’t great, you know that. And I know he wouldn’t have been Frankie, but… still.”

Frank rubs his mouth with his free hand, not sure how to reply. He’s touched that Karen thinks he could have done anything better than old Paxton Page, who sounds like a real asshole however you cut it (and yet, Frank thinks uncomfortably, he has sometimes been no better about trying to push Karen out of his life). “Yeah,” he says, after a pause. “I wish I could have met him too, you know. I bet he was a good kid.”

“He was.” Karen gives him another small, tentative smile. “I still owe him a lot.”

Frank nods wordlessly, understanding that too, and then lifts her hand softly to his mouth and kisses it, pressing it into the palm and closing her fingers around it. To remind both of them that he’s still trying, he’s trying so hard, to only make her smile these days, and he’ll keep doing it as long as she lets him. “Stay there,” he says. “I’m gonna make you breakfast.”

Small World: Joseph/OC Part 27

I do not have as much time as I would like for writing which is why it is taking me so long to get this fic finished. I already know how I am going to end it. I will hopefully be posting my other fic soon which is titled Home which I warn you is over 600 bloody pages...Anyone who is reading this and has been reading from the start I thank you. Enjoy!

Warnings: Self Harm. Death of a child. Suicide.

 (Joseph sits hunched over in a chair looking at the floor. He is holding John’s cell phone tightly with both hands. He looks up at John who is lying in a hospital bed heavily sedated. His right arm is bandaged up. The cut was deep. If Joseph hadn’t found him when he did he would have bled out in the tub. Joseph will never forget the sight of his little brother lying lifeless in the tub surrounded by all that blood. John wasn’t messing around. This wasn’t just someone self harming. John was serious about ending his life. The nurses here know it too. Joseph looks down at the padded straps securing Johns wrists to the bed frame. Tears sting his eyes again and he lets out a sob as he takes his brothers hand. He prays quietly. He has been praying ever since he found John lying there like that. He is glad that Lillith wasn’t home. He is glad that she didn’t have to see John like that. He wishes he could un-see it. He finds himself begging the Voice for help. Begging for guidance. He prays that John will be okay. He prays that he isn’t locked away and pumped full of drugs. Drugs are the last thing that John needs. Joseph has worked in a psychiatric hospital. He has seen how the patients are treated. How they are shut away and hidden from society. The Voice does not answer him. Not that he expected it to. He hasn’t heard from the Voice in years. The door opens and Joseph looks up to see Lillith rush in. She lets out a small cry and goes straight to Johns side.). Lillith: Oh John. What have you done? (She leans down and rests her head on his inhaling the scent of his shampoo. She takes hold of Johns hand then looks down at the cuffs on Johns wrists.). Lillith: Why is he chained to the bed? He didn’t try and attack anyone did he? Joseph: No. He was very agitated however. They had to sedate him. He was a danger to himself as much as to others. Lillith: Do you know why he did it? Did he say anything to you before...? Joseph: No. I had been trying to get him to eat but he wouldn’t. He spent most of the day in bed. He wasn’t talking at all. I went to make him lunch and when I came back... (Lillith lets out a sob.). Lillith: I’m so sorry John. This is my fault. Joseph: No it isn’t. Lillith: I left him. He needed me. He needed looking after and I fucking walked out on him! (Lillith is suddenly sobbing.). Joseph: You can’t blame yourself for this. Lillith: I’m his fiancée. We’re meant to be getting married. Joseph: You still can. We are going to help him. Together. Lillith: For better or worse. In sickness and in health. I’ve already broken our vows and I haven’t even said them yet! (Joseph stands up and goes over to her wrapping his arms around her.). Joseph: You haven’t broken any vows. You are here by his side. Like you have always been. He has hurt you so much. You have been through so much. But you are still here. Your love for him is so strong that even after he killed your child here you are in his time of need. (Joseph places his hands on her cheeks and gazes down at her with adoration.). Joseph: You are a beautiful person Lillith. God has guided the two of you together. Just like he guided me to John and will guide me to our brother Jacob. I am so happy that John has someone like you in his life. He doesn’t believe that he deserves you but that’s not true. He just cannot see what a gift he has been given. But he will see. You and I are going to make him see. (He places a kiss on her forehead then wipes her tears away with his thumbs.). Joseph: Would you like a cup of coffee? Lillith: I...Yes. Please. Joseph: I’ll be back in a moment. (Joseph leaves the room. Lillith sits down and sighs. She doesn’t really need all of this God stuff right now. She’s never been one for religion. She isn’t sure she believes in God. Yet as she looks at John lying there pale and cuffed to the bed she finds herself praying anyway. * (Joseph sits sipping coffee. He looks over at Lillith. She is sat there stroking John’s hair, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. She has been as still as a statue for the past seven hours. John woke up several times but he was groggy and confused. Lillith told him that she was sorry and that she loved him. Joseph had to fight back tears as Lillith showed him exactly how devoted she is to his little brother.). Lillith: You can give up on me. You can give up on us. But don’t you dare give up on yourself. You’re not allowed to give up on yourself. I won’t let you. Do you hear me John? I won’t let you. (Joseph lost the battle and ended up going into the bathroom where he broke down completely. The door opens and Franky walks in. She goes over to Lillith who gets up when she sees her and the two girls hug. Lillith starts to sob.). Franky: Oh my girl. It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay. I came straight from work. (This is obvious as Franky is only wearing a tiny mini skirt so short that it might as well just be a belt and a black corset which doesn’t cover much. Franky rubs Lillith’s back then looks at Joseph.). Franky: I’m sorry. For how I was on the phone. I didn’t realise he was this bad and...I was angry at him for upsetting Lillith again. Joseph: It’s forgotten. Franky: Did anyone want coffee? Lillith: Yeah that’d be great. Joseph: Please. (Franky leaves the room. Lillith sits back down and takes hold of John’s hand. She then goes back to stroking his hair.). Lillith: I love you. Lots and lots with Jelly tots. John: And vodka shots. (Lillith looks up as John opens his eyes.). Lillith: Hey. (She lets out a sob. Joseph takes John’s other hand.). John: My head is killing me. Lillith: That’s probably the sedatives. John: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Lillith: Sssh. (She leans over him and presses a kiss to his lips.). Lillith: Why didn’t you call me? John: You left. Why would I have called you? Lillith: Because you were obviously in a state. If you had called me and told me you felt like this...That you were going to... (She swallows a sob.). Lillith: I would have come back. John: You always come back. Lillith: Of course I do. I love you. John: I don’t deserve you. Lillith: Yes you do. Don’t talk like that. (Franky comes back in balancing three coffees.). Franky: Hey. You scared the shit out of us mate. John: Sorry. (Lillith squeezes his hand.). Lillith: It’s going to be okay John. John: No it isn’t. It’s all crap. All of it. Lillith: Even me? John: No. Not you. Never you. You have been the only good thing to ever happen to me. But I’m no good for you. Lillith: Well tough tits coz I love you. (She kisses the back of his hand.). Joseph: As do I brother. As do I. * (John sits on the bed staring at the wall. He looks down at his wrist where his name is written on a white band. He sighs. Sectioned. He has been sectioned of all things! He is once again glad of the wealth his parents left him. Money can buy a lot of things. It has bought him a very private facility. Very expensive. But the place is still very much like a prison. The door to his room is locked and he can’t switch off the light. Every so often someone presses their face against the window in the door to peer in at him. The room itself isn’t bad however. He even has his own en suite bathroom. They have confiscated several of his belongings, which Lillith went back to the apartment to fetch for him, including his phone charger. The battery died an hour ago. He can’t even contact anyone. He finds himself wishing that Lillith was here with him right now. He lies down and curls up on the bed. He closes his eyes and imagines Lillith lying next to him, stroking his hair and peppering soft kisses over his back and shoulder. His anger recedes giving way to tears. He cries far longer than he ever has his entire life. He hates the world and everyone in it. He hates his life and he hates himself. Sure he can kid himself that the charming lawyer big shot John Duncan is so important. But he knows deep down that if he were to remain locked away in here for the rest of his life nobody would notice or care. Nobody would give a shit. He grabs the pillow and hugs it to his chest burying his face in it to muffle his sobs. Why couldn’t he have just died?).