#or meld into what it needs for a situation

[wraith-caller]

Really cool of FromSoft to drop this pair of cursed twins with a soul that shuttles back and forth between individual bodies, draw up some vague connection between them and the god-queen who shares her body and maybe soul with another person, and then never mention it again.

[kenobster]

seriously, i am so sorry to anyone i have ever called brave for literally just doing the things that are required for existing lol, it's so fucking annoying

[p0orbaby]

Parental Guidance

summary: you’re on the brink of a baby induced nervous breakdown and you need your wife to pull her finger out a little

warnings: just some postnatal tension, but it all works out

a/n: thank you for the request !

word count: 1.2k

-

You’re pretty sure you haven’t slept in three days. Or is it four? The baby’s a demon. This tiny, adorable, 8-pound entity that seems to thrive on your misery. His cries have melded into a never-ending soundtrack of despair, punctuated by your own hollow attempts at soothing him with a song that you made up on the spot about 48 hours ago and now can’t stop singing. It’s called “Please, for the Love of All That is Good and Holy, Sleep.”

You used to be a person. You had interests, hobbies. You read books that didn’t have the words “Goodnight” and “Moon” in the title. You once watched entire movies from start to finish without interruptions. You’re pretty sure you used to smile, and not the deranged, Joker-esque grin you’ve developed from trying to maintain your sanity while walking a screaming infant around the house at 2 a.m.

And where is your darling wife, Alexia, in all this? Nowhere to be found. Well, she’s at work, technically. Which, fine. Someone has to pay the bills, but wasn’t there some kind of brochure about shared responsibility? Maybe she’s left it in her locker, along with her soul. You barely remember what she looks like at this point. You could pass her in the hallway and just nod politely, like she’s the postman.

You’re doing your best. Really, you are. But the situation is like trying to fill a bath with a teaspoon. And maybe you’re filling the bath wrong. Maybe the bath is cursed. You’ve tried everything—rocking, singing, automatic bouncers, and some baby yoga thing that some well-meaning Instagram mum swore by but mostly just made you realise how tight your hamstrings are.

Last night, you were so desperate, you found yourself Googling “Can babies drink Nyquil?” You didn’t actually give it to him, of course, but the fact that you even considered it is telling. Your maternal instincts have been reduced to the level of a sleep-deprived zombie.

You call Alexia. She picks up after the third ring. You can hear the echo of her voice, so you know she’s in one of those soundproof meeting rooms, which would be useful for something other than work right now, like, say, your mental breakdown.

“How’s it going?” she asks, with a tone that implies she has absolutely no idea how it’s going.

“Oh, fine,” you say, with the kind of deadpan delivery that would get a standing ovation on a late-night comedy show. “The baby’s great. He’s taken up wailing as a full-time job. He���s really passionate about it, you know? Very dedicated. I think he’s trying to set a record”

You hear her exhale softly. “I’m sorry, bebè. It’s just i'm in the middle of some media stuff—”

“No, no,” you cut her off. “By all means, finish giving your opinions on that new stadium or whatever. I’m sure our baby will appreciate it when he’s, I don’t know, 18 and actually sleeping. Maybe he’ll get a job there. Or just stand outside and scream, since that seems to be his true calling”

There’s a pause on the other end. Not a comfortable pause. The kind of pause that suggests she’s realising you might not be entirely okay. The baby shrieks louder, and you realise you’re bouncing him up and down like he’s a basketball and you’re trying to make a buzzer-beater shot.

“I’ll be home soon,” Alexia says finally, her voice softer.

“Define ‘soon,’” you counter, adjusting your grip on the baby before he launches himself out of your arms and catapults into a new dimension where babies don’t need sleep. “Is it ‘soon’ like in 20 minutes, or ‘soon’ like in three hours when I’ve lost the will to live?”

Another pause, this one even worse. You’re pretty sure you can hear her wincing through the phone.

“An hour?” she offers weakly, and you let out a laugh that’s halfway between genuine and maniacal.

“Perfect,” you say. “I’ll just go cry in the airing cupboard until then. The baby and I have matching dark circles under our eyes now, so that’s fun. Maybe we’ll start a band”

You hang up before she can respond, not trusting yourself to say anything else. You’re exhausted, stretched thin, and the fact that your wife isn’t here to witness the madness is only making things worse. You know she’s working hard, that she’s doing her best, but in this moment, it feels like you’re on a sinking ship and she’s on shore, waving at you from a distance.

An hour later, when she finally walks through the door, you’re sitting in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of baby toys, burp cloths, and what you think might be some sort of baby vomit, though at this point, who really knows?

You look up at her, and she looks back at you, and there’s a brief moment where you’re pretty sure she’s about to turn around and walk right back out the door.

Instead, she says, “I brought wine”

You blink at her, then at the bottle of wine in her hand. It’s a good bottle, too. The kind you used to drink before you had a baby and your definition of “good wine” became “whatever has the highest alcohol content and is closest to the till”

“Great,” you say, pushing yourself up off the floor with a grunt. “Let’s get the baby drunk”

She gives you a tired smile, but you can see the worry behind it. “Cariño…”

“No, it’s fine,” you say, holding up a hand. “It’s totally fine. I’m just saying, if we give him some wine, maybe he’ll sleep. Or at least pass out for a little bit. We can all get some rest. Or die. Either one sounds good at this point”

She sighs, setting the bottle down on the coffee table and coming over to you. She takes the baby from your arms, and you’re almost tempted to just collapse on the spot. Instead, you let yourself lean against her, just for a moment, just long enough to remember what it feels like to be supported by another human being.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and you can hear the guilt in her voice. “I know this is hard. I’ll try to be here more”

You nod, but you’re too tired to respond with words. Instead, you just rest your head on her shoulder and close your eyes, savouring the brief reprieve from the bedlam.

“Do you think he’s broken?” you mumble after a while. “Like, did we get a defective baby?”

Alexia chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “No, he’s not broken. He’s just…expressive”

“Expressive,” you repeat, nodding slowly. “Right. So we got the model with all the extra emotions. Great”

“Extra emotions,” Alexia echoes, her tone lightening. “Maybe that means he’ll be a really good artist someday”

“Or he’ll just be really good at screaming,” you say, lifting your head to look at her. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be on a team, you’ve been doing a lot of solo missions lately”

“I know,” she says softly, her eyes meeting yours. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better”

You let out a long breath, feeling the tension between you, and your shoulder, start to ease. “Okay. But if he screams one more time tonight, we’re selling him to the circus”

“Got it,” Alexia says with a smile, and for the first time in days, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re not going through this alone.

[iguana-braces]

That sub!Jayce post really popped off, huh?

Ehehe okay here's my rambly thoughts about it (I'm literally sitting at work clocked out writing this instead of going home because THOUGHTS)

Building my theory off of this post:

And this one with all the examples of how Jayce's love language is clearly physical touch

*Disclaimer: there's a lot about season 2 that irked me in terms of plot and characterization so this is me retconning a little bit and picking and choosing what examples make the most cohesive argument. Like, in season one they're like "Jayce has this brotherly relationship with Caitlyn and him and Mel have this deep, meaningful relationship" and then season two was like "No more relationship building, it's time for trauma now" but, I digress*

First things first, he's a people pleaser. He does what he's told, clearly (against better judgment but like). And he's clearly committed to the people he cares about. HE BROUGHT VIKTOR BACK FROM THE DEAD (AND THEN KILLED HIM) AND THEN DIED WITH HIM AGAIN. You can't tell me that wouldn't translate to an "I'll do anything for you" attitude in the bedroom too.

I already did the bed gif but I also have to draw attention to the following:

Okay but season two, post-horrors!

Mr. Dopey Heart-Eyes McGee is NOT the one calling the shots here.

Season one Jayce? That man is whipped. One glance from his partner and he's on his knees like it's a religion. Whoever you ship him with! Mel, Viktor, both, a secret fourth option--

He spent an indeterminate amount of time alone, in the bottom of a pit. He's touch-starved but also! Traumatized!

Imagine, if you will, that he survives the astral plane. Imagine he goes to find Mel, or Viktor also survives, or imagine your own y/n, OC insert scenario here. Whatever floats your boat.

In such scenario, and in the aftermath of his self-awareness epiphany where he realizes that yeah, he's kinda been used (by everyone really), I think that in regards to any potential sexual relationship, he would have to become more dominant, more in control of the situation. Especially if it's with Mel, since he does pointedly blame her, or even Viktor, who has literally shaped the course of Jayce's entire life since he was a child. The man needs to set some boundaries with people and good for him.

So I think dominant, scruffy Jayce does have a time and a place.

However, I don't think he'd stay that way forever. It's kinda like him trying to be a politician-- it's a different role that he can pull off, but it doesn't fully scratch his itch.

BONUS HEADCANON: Wouldn't it be just so interesting if he survived the astral plane and goes back to whoever, and while he's looking for comfort and reassurance and all that physical contact he's been deprived of, he realizes that he really doesn't like people touching his head.

I hypothesize that in regards to canon relationships, Mel and/or Viktor, once they regain his trust and show that they're not trying to use him again, he's 100% going to be simping for them even worse than before. Like, that relationship would've gone through the fire and only come out stronger on the other side. You might even say it's been vulcanized.... 🤭

From the on, he can go back to letting his walls down around them and letting them be the dominant one because he knows there's solid trust and respect there now.

Feel free to agree or disagree 🤷‍♀️ also please feel free to tell me all your thots about this too!!!

He's got all this beautiful hair that needs to be tenderly pushed away from his eyes by a loving hand, but he's a little fucked up from the times Mannequin/Mage Viktor did that little murder mind meld.

Like, he put his head in Mel's lap TWICE, you know it would kill the man if he couldn't do that anymore because having someone's hands near his forehead is too reminiscent of... well, basically his death.

[kiddotarot]

Your Moon the habits you develop to avoid neglacation from past life.

1H/Aries = you need administration or acceptaion from others people. You want to be seen you don't like to stay in background. In past life when you looked you got accepted now you develop this tendency over and over again in this life your emotional self feel neglected because of it. In your past life your opinions and feeling held by upper position thats why the need to out.

2H/ Taurus = you want your body comfortable and safe and you also need physical comforation by others life hug , forehead kisses and if you ever feel neglected you can develop skin sensitivity and skin problems and may be comforts eating is becoming you escape when you feel neglected by others.you sacrifice your emotional need for mone and lern to live in less so soul need to complete it need there is a guilt of wanting more.

3H/Gemini = you crave for attention and want to listen by others. Most likely mental acceptance. If you feel neglected self talking or continuously talking become your problem to block your emotional needs. In past life your soul in not appreciated in feeling or sharing your thoughts slowly soul learn to cover it up.

4H/Cancer = You need emotional validation and acceptance from strong bond or from person . Home is important for you otherwise you feel lost. You need a mother a very soft nature mother your soul carried . Your DNA can have wands of female from past generation in your family or your soul experienced the separation of child.

5H/Leo = You need to be adored and want to feel powerful otherwise it becomes drama queen. In past life you can be very proud on you no watters what happened you never ask for help even you are dying . So in this life time soul want to earn the validation of that part.

6H/virgo = your soul is rewarded in past life for doing every little thing so that's why you are very insecure about taking desion and like to pay details on small things. May be in past life your family in past life or in this life have thing to critized thing and slowly you develop it in this life time.

7H/Libra = your soul is craved for acceptance , adoration and peaceful surrounding. Comfort is important for you somehow povert idea terrified you. Somehow you forced to make surround nice no matter what situation is. Anger and other emotions showing is tottaly banned and you leared to get in this mold.

8H/ scorpio = when you are emotionally unfulfilled so its become abusive it can be any type of abuse. Past life or your current life secrets are included like drugs , abuse and may be dissappearing of a person in your life. There is emotional intensity but you or your family want to hide it.

9H/ sagittarius = your emotions seek companionship and acceptance someting ehich can make you more smater and your hunger of knowledge. Discussing someting is your emotional healing. Your soul may be grew up in a surrounding where no one is truthful so your soul learns to be honestly brutal in this life time may be it need to fix.

10H/capricorn = you need success, approval and things to right . It want to remsin control but still want to nourishment. Your soul get tired of to be too much responsible and duty oriananted. It strongly want good carrer , name but neglected his own fulfillment now you need to fill it.

11H/ Aquarius = you have great experience and talent to work with society. But you need a close emotional and approval to get nourishment. Your pattren can be a fighter and a revolutionary person may be someone in your family. But it forget to creat a safe space home can be rarely a home .

12H/pisces = what you desire is emotionally melded relationship actually you just feed off other people. Your soul feels right to secrafice yourself for others tottaly devoted it can be for anything . You need to set boundaries hun.

[untolduttering]

Desires

Summary: Law does routine check ups on all the crew members, and decides to take advantage of the situation when it’s your turn.

Tags: nsfw, medical setting, inaccurate medical practice, I would say dubcon just to be safe, medical malpractice, vaginal fingering, piv, unprotected sex, female reader

Word Count: 3k

In order to keep a healthy and functioning ship, Law had each crew member do a monthly check up with him. Simple and short, it was merely to give anyone the chance to bring up possible ailments or small issues that may have gone under the radar. You hadn’t known about this routine when you first joined as Law wanted you to get comfortable with your new life on the Polar Tang. Now that months had passed and you were melding in smoothly, it was time for your first one. As you approached the infirmary, your nerves were getting the best of you, and now wished you had asked Ikkaku what you were in for.

Unsure what to do once at the door, you knocked, and heard Law call, “Come in,” right after.

“Captain,” you said as you gently closed the door.

“Y/n-ya. I’ll need you to strip down and put on the gown on the bed, if you’d please,” he gestured to it with his hand. “I’ll step outside while you do so.”

You froze, caught completely off guard. You didn’t know what to expect, so nothing should have really thrown you, but this was completely blindsiding.

“Strip down? Like take off… everything?” You asked.

“Yes,” he said as he got up. “Just the gown.”

You swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”

He nodded back as he passed you and left the room.

In the time you’d been on the Polar Tang, you had developed some sort of feelings for your captain. The idea of having to be nude in front of him left your skin buzzing, both in excitement and dread. But you wouldn’t be naked, you’d have a gown on. You picked up the said gown and rubbed the material between your forefinger and thumb. The material was thick like normal clothes, and so technically, you wouldn’t be naked in front of him at all.

On the other side of the door, Law was questioning his morals. No, this was not standard procedure. There wasn’t any point in making his crew change clothes, not when it was a ten minute check up. Ever since you joined, you had been this annoying itch in his skin. You sat deep beneath, somewhere he couldn’t reach, something he didn’t know what to do about. He imagined all the ways he could have you, either between your legs or in that special place in his chest. And so he gave himself this one thing, this one abuse of power, and that was it. He’d give some reason why the next time he didn’t make you change, that the first time is different, more thorough possibly. He just wanted to have the knowledge this one time that you stood before him with nothing beneath that gown. Just this once.

After changing into the gown, you folded your jumpsuit and underwear, setting them on the corner of the bed with both bra and panties buried deep inside the suit. You took off your boots and socks as well, and set those at the foot of the bed. Sitting propped on the edge with ankles crossed and hands pressed into your lap, you called out, “Okay. I’m ready.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to keep your gaze on his face, instead opting for his chest and the stethoscope around it. You missed his heavy lidded gaze, and wrote off the momentary jump his chest made when he inhaled sharply.

He was regretting this indulgence heavily now. Staring at your exposed legs, he was caught by the part of the gown that was hitched up, showing more thigh than he had anticipated. He felt ridiculous about how little he was getting riled up over. And still he needed more.

“Any concerns before we begin?” he asked.

You wracked your brain, but nothing ached, there wasn’t any lingering pain from past issues. Just the usual bumps and bruises that came with maintaining a pirate’s life. “No.”

“Alright. I’ll be starting with your heart and lungs. I’m just looking for any abnormalities, like an irregular heartbeat or a struggle with breathing. I’ll need you to lean forward so I can access your back.” He washed his hands as he spoke and put on a pair of gloves.

You did as he asked, staring hard at the floor as you waited. You watched his feet approach and stop to your right. The cold from the stethoscope made you jump, and almost like it was instinctual, Law lightly grabbed your knee, as if to steady you. Your heart began to pound wildly, and the heat began to grow in your cheeks. He’d know it was his touch that made you nervous, and then he’d ask you why, and you’d have to tell him that just his mere presence made you light-headed, and so of course your heart was going to explode from his hand. And then he was never going to come anywhere near you again. Your damned heart was going to ruin it all.

But he didn’t ask about your heartbeat. He only asked for a few deep breaths before he stepped back, taking the plugs out of his ears and resting the whole thing back on his neck. “Sounds good,” was all he said. He didn’t admit that your nerves pleased him, that it might mean you felt something towards him. But he tried to smother it. He was not something that anyone could possibly desire.

“Alright, now for your eyes. Similarly, I’m looking for any abnormalities, something like cloudiness or an irregularity in the iris or pupil.” He pulled a slim cylinder from his array of tools, and asked you to open your eyes wide and to stare at his right ear. He turned it on, and a bright light blinded you. You didn’t move, doing your best to do as he asked and be a star patient. You always felt the need to find some sort of approval from him, as he wasn’t the type to give it out liberally, and that made it even more worthwhile. He switched to the other eye, asking you to look to his left ear. He stepped back, murmuring, “Good, good.”

“Now I’ll be looking into your ears. I’m just looking for any irritation, anything foreign, blockage, or possible damage both to the ear canal or the eardrum.” He grabbed one of the many tools displayed across the counter. Softly, he grabbed your chin and tilted your head so that he could look. This sudden and continuous intimacy was overwhelming; he had never touched you before. It simply must be how it went with everyone else on the crew. With the way he usually spoke to you, it was clear he held no secret fondness just for you. This was just work. When he switched sides, his leg pressed against yours, and he kept it there. You didn’t know exactly what about this was bringing him so close, but you hoped it would never end.

“I have to check your throat now. If you could open your mouth and stick your tongue out, please.” Once again, you did as told. You expected him to reach out again for one of his tools, for him to just simply look in, but instead his forefinger and middle finger were pushed in and pressed down on your tongue. You let out a small and surprised yelp. You squeezed your thighs together, tight, against the shot of pleasure you felt, and grabbed onto Law’s coat.

Law knew damn well this was not the right way to do it. He had those wooden sticks, neatly tucked away in a glass jar. But he needed to feel the warmth of your mouth, the slick of your spit wetting his fingers. His left hand immediately gripped your thigh as soon as that sound left your mouth. Law wasn’t really seeing, he couldn’t focus on anything but how you felt beneath his hands. He slowly dragged his fingers down your tongue, savoring the sight before fully removing them. He didn’t move away though, nor remove his other hand. He was incapable of it. Belatedly, he registers the hands gripping his coat. His eyes meet yours.

You immediately let go and leaned back, misreading his look as one of questioning and annoyance. Heat burned your cheeks as you held your mouth open, waiting for his next instruction.

He cleared his throat and managed to pull himself away. “You can close your mouth. Everything looks fine.”

Law turned away, and stood back in front of the counter. He looked to be contemplating something, staring at the items splayed before him without touching them. He rested his hands on the counter, a finger on his right hand tapping and tapping away. Nerves started to claw at your stomach.

“I’d like to do a vaginal exam,” he said suddenly. Your stomach swooped and your head felt light immediately.

“You can say no, it’s not necessary, it’s merely on offer, a precaution.” Law was cursing himself. He was being unbelievably stupid, he knew it, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. He stayed facing the wall, rigid and unmoving. It was a gamble and one that he immediately regretted. If you said no, it would marr the way you looked at him for the rest of both of your lives. It was too far of a jump from a regular exam, you’d see right through it and know him for the pervert he was. He was being gross and was crossing too many lines, all for the slim chance you might accept. And if you did, then what? What the fuck was he doing right now?

A different war was going on in your own head. It was an intimate and vulnerable suggestion, one that would bring him closer than ever before. Could you let him do something like that? What even would he do? Would he simply look, or would he stick his fingers in like he had just now? The thought sent another pleasant shiver through you, and the heat at your core was building once again. Fears and nerves and need made you so unsettled, and the need for him to touch you became unbearable all of a sudden. It was a professional formality, nothing more, and you were taking more from it than he was, turning it into something it wasn’t, but you didn’t care. He didn’t have to know you were enjoying it, that it was something you were going to use to get off to later, and multiple times more after that. It made you feel dirty but you didn’t care.

“Yes,” you said. “I’m okay with that.”

Law finally looked at you, the surprise clear on his face. For a second, you feared that you missed something, some queue that meant you were supposed to say no. But then his face cleared, he nodded, and placed himself in front of you.

“I’ll need you to lift your legs up. I can position them for you, if you’d prefer.” Law was barely keeping himself together. He couldn’t believe you agreed, and didn’t want to make the wrong move and ask for him to stop. His entire self was currently a sea of desire and self hatred.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d prefer that.” Your voice was soft, anxious over spoiling the moment as well as what came next.

Law nodded, and pushed your gown all the way up your thighs. He was desperately trying to keep his hands still, to keep his composure and professionalism. But the more skin he exposed, the farther he took it, the more he started to lose it. He then gently grabbed both of your knees, and proceeded to lift them and push them to your chest.

All the air rushed out of Law’s lungs as you were now fully exposed to him. You could hear it as it happened, and as you watched his face for further reaction, you saw his tongue dart out to quickly wet his lips. It was not exactly what you had expected, but it was an ideal one nonetheless.

As he let go of your legs, pressed your toes into the mattress to keep yourself in the position he placed you in. Law’s movements seemed slower, and his eyes never left your pussy.

“I’m…” he trailed off, his emotions finally breaking through the barrier he’d placed. “I’m going to put my fingers in now, okay?”

You nodded, noticing that he did not give the medical reasoning behind it. It didn’t matter to you, as long as he touched you.

He slipped one finger in, emitting a small sigh from you. It went in easily, the wetness having already coated your hole. He curled the digit, just barely moving it in and out, feeling around your walls. Law placed his other hand just beneath your thigh, leaning in closer, terribly focused. He felt your walls tighten at his touch and proximity, and began to feel smug.

“Feels nice in here,” he said. It came out breathy, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Feeling bold, he added another finger, and reached deeper. You rocked your hips forward and let out a whine.

At this, Law finally meets your gaze. He looked to your mouth and leaned in close. His eyes flit back to yours, to your mouth, and then your eyes again, asking. His eyebrows furrowed. Pleading. You barely nod before his lips are smashed against yours. Law is a starved man, and he devours you greedily. He pulls his fingers out and rips off his gloves, desperate for that skin to skin contact. You buried your hands into his hair and moaned into his mouth. It was messy and heated, kissing until it became a sloppy make out. You parted your lips to let his tongue in, and Law did not hesitate to explore your mouth. His hands had moved to grip your thighs, keeping them in position and kneading them as he did so. They moved lower and lower, teasing. He inserted his fingers into you again, and started properly pumping them in and out. You pulled away to breathe and moan, and Law took the opportunity to latch onto your neck.

It was divine to finally have those skilled doctors fingers inside you, working you open. He scissored them as he went, his palm hitting your clit again and again, and it was better than all those daydreams. His mouth was hot where he sucked on your skin, and each playful scrape of his teeth made you groan.

Law kept a fast pace, his fingers hitting that spongy sweet spot again and again, but it wasn’t enough, you wanted more.

“Law,” you breathed. “I want you.”

He lifted his head and pressed his mouth to your once again, muttering, “You want me? Say what you want.”

You whined again before saying, “I want your dick. I need you to fuck me.”

He hummed and said, “You do?”

He could be so frustrating, such a tease. Huffing, you said, “Law, please.”

He finally obliged, taking his fingers out and licking them clean before working his belt undone and unzipping his pants. He pushed them and his underwear down just enough to pull his cock out. Law dragged his tip through your folds, coating himself in your fluids and relishing the way his actions made you squirm. Right before you were about to complain, he pushed himself inside, taking it slow to let you adjust. It wasn’t all that thick, so the burn of being stretched was pleasurable, but it was long, and he was deep by the time he bottomed out.

“You feel good, pretty girl?” Law asked.

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I feel good.”

Law pulled himself out, till just the tip was still barely inside, before slamming himself all the way back in. You cried out, your back arching, and Law kept fucking into you, setting a brutal pace. Every accidental brush of your hand against him, every longing look he gave you when you weren’t paying attention, and every ache that Law felt when he was near you was put into each thrust. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you close, until your chests where flush against each other. To have you so close to him was making him wild, and to have you mewling and crying out into his ear made him go positively insane. That added with the way your walls squeezed around him made him want to never let you out of his sight ever again.

Your own thoughts were completely filled with Law. It was impossible to think of anything else. The way he held you so close and slammed into so wantonly, your skin making lewd slapping sounds and the wet squelching of your cunt being fucked, that it was him filling you up so nicely, it all was so overwhelmingly good that it made tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Incoherent sounds spilled from your mouth, and as the heat started to build in your lower stomach, you whined out Law’s name again and again.

He reached down between you and started rubbing your clit with his thumb. You moaned out at the new sensation and gripped Law’s shoulders harder, nails starting to dig in.

“There you go, baby. There you go,” Law murmured, sounding strained. “Just let go for me.”

Your brain had gone blank at this point, focused on nothing but the man before you and the heat building in your core. Your words were slurred as you chanted out a “please, please, please.” The feeling built until it suddenly snapped and you came with a cry.

“There it is, just like that, so good for me.” Law’s words came out all strung together, talking you through your orgasm just as much as he was talking to himself as his own came closer. He kept rubbing your clit as he fucked you through your high, pushing you close to overstimulation. At a final pulse from your pussy, Law came inside you. He removed his hand and pulled you close again, his hips stuttering as he finished.

Law rested his forehead against yours, both of you panting and trying to collect yourselves. Once you caught your breath, you broke the silence.

“Did I pass?” you asked.

Law groaned and rolled his eyes as you giggled. He pressed a kiss to your mouth before saying, “Yeah, you did.”

[comradetoad]

He's a doctor not a damsel, dammit! (A Leonard "Bones" McCoy in a Situation fic rec list)

A non-comprehensive list of fics I love where Bones gets kidnapped, left behind, stranded, held hostage, or trapped, sometimes on purpose. Mind the tags for some of them with violence and torture, but all have relatively happy endings.

Gen

Equilibrium, PSW (TOS, T, 152k): The GOAT McCoy in a Situation fic. Reads like a good TOS novel, with a compelling story and strong characterizations that emphasize how important the triumvirate are to each other.

Safe, SidSky (AOS, T, 290k): Khan escapes and kidnaps a beloved enterprise crew member (guess who!), testing both the captive and those trying to rescue him. A long but really excellent post-into darkness fic that really brings out Khan's characterization from Space Seed and Wrath of Khan, diving into the Eugenics wars, section 31, and the differences (and similarities) between the prime and kelvin universes. Gen with a focus on Kirk and McCoy's friendship.

the one with the dog, kurgaya (AOS, T, 9k): a much more chill situation for our doctor! Just involves some time and maybe universe travel to see our friends on Enterprise NX-01.

Mudd in Your Eye, Avirra (TOS, T, 61k): Harvey Mudd finds the Botany Bay instead of the enterprise, but they are still in need of a doctor. McCoy is both a badass and a damsel in this, the best combination.

McKirk

for I would throw myself into the flames that you need not burn, thesecretdetectivecollection (AOS, M, 10k): With Jim unconscious, Bones pretends to be the captain in order to protect the away team, and suffers the consequences. There's also a part 2 focused on physical and psychological recovery from the Situation, plus more sex.

Chiraptophilia, Joules Mer (AOS, T, 15k): Post-rescue, but a difficult recovery is still a situation. A McKirk get-together/feelings realization fic.

Hold Me Tight (I'll Hold My Breath), laughter_now (AOS, T, 30k): Jim and Bones are in a shuttle crash, trapped in a dangerous, high stress situation while awaiting rescue. Very gripping as a reader!

To the best of my ability and judgment, Time_that_is_given_to_you (AOS, G, 98k): post into-darkness, former section 31 agents kidnap McCoy, wanting his cure for death. The search, rescue, and aftermath are full of complicated emotions for bones and Jim.

Fortunate Son, mardia (AOS, E, 51k): an excellent and unique take on Tarsus in the Kelvin universe, with Bones in a Situation in the present and in the past via flashbacks. Also some cool andorian culture world building! Recently established McKirk.

without retention or restraint, periphery87 (AOS, T, 19k): another entry in the 'Jim has to rescue a brave McCoy and they both realize some things' genre, with some cool mind meld stuff and Spock being very supportive.

Spones

For What They Are, stealthestars (TOS, E, 9k): a must-read Spones fic, it's tagged with both TOS and AOS, but the character dynamics and physical descriptions are very much TOS. McCoy finds himself at the mercy of a local warlord and Spock is Not Happy about it. Bonus mind meld sex at the end, too.

sing for the damage we've done (and the worse things that we'll do) and i speak in smoke signals (and you answer in code), flibbertygigget (TOS, T, 2k and 6k): Technically gen but the Spock and McCoy vibes are strong and in my heart they are in love. McCoy faces an ethical dilemma, and Spock helps when he has to deal with the consequences of his choice.

Left Behind, sleepymccoy (TOS, T, 37k): Bones is trapped on a primitive planet with the Enterprise in orbit, unsure if they are able to hear his transmissions as he tries to survive. Recently established Spones, plus some lovely original art!

McSpirk

do you love your neighbor (is it in your nature), Muir_Wolf (TOS, T, 20k): McCoy really suffers on a temporary assignment gone sideways, but also is not a helpless damsel. Lots of comfort to make up for the hurt, too. An all time favorite I've re-read many times.

Approximation, liadan14 (AOS, E, 15k): Bones is prevented from returning to the ship by a genocidal colony leader, and Jim and Spock do not handle it well. Lots of interesting world building, some academy era McKirk, a bit of angst, and a smutty ending. A great dynamic for the AOS triumvirate!

[possibly-god]

Threshold: Unlocking the Good Ending

Happy Threshold Day, everyone! Here's how that nonsense (and beyond) could have gone differently if Tom Paris had chosen different dialogue options. Inspired by this post by @starship-butterfly

Tom talks his way back into the Warp 10 test another way – he and Harry figured it out together, they should test it together. Plus, two heads are better than one if something goes wrong, and there’s no one he trusts more to have his back.

Just as before, right as everyone’s praising them as heroes, Tom goes down. At first everyone assumes it’s the Doctor’s “2% chance” coming to pass… and then Harry goes out too.

They babble and reminisce together in the surgical bay. They clasp hands as they die and embrace as they reawaken. They butt heads and bond as they mutate – Harry rips Tom’s tongue from his mouth, Tom helps Harry not to choke as his detaches.

Between the two of them, busting out is no problem – for them, at least. Before the Doctor can get them anywhere near the warp core, Tom and Harry are out of Sick Bay, in the shuttle, and off God knows where.

When the crew finally tracks the duo down, they’ve gone full amphibian – including froggy sex-swapping adaptations, because the lizard babies must exist in every timeline (let’s be real, “turn into frogs and have frog babies with your bestie” is such a Harry Kim thing to happen).

As does Chakotay going “fuck them kids” – against Tuvok’s advisement, Janeway agrees to keep the incident classified.

And then, of course, the Doctor spills the beans (“Any other symptoms?” “I don’t know, my abdomen is cramping something awful…” “That’s hardly surprising, you did just give birth.” “…what.”).

The second they’re unsupervised, Harry is dragging Tom to the shuttle bay (he was sedated during the reveal but is onboard as soon as Harry strings together a coherent explanation) because they can work through that mountain of weird feelings later but right now Babies.

Meanwhile everyone on Voyager is freaking the hell out because they just stole the fuCKING SHUTTLE AGAIN-

The second they touch back down on Voyager, Tom is out of the shuttle and straight-up decking Chakotay before he can say “what the hell” and having strong words with Janeway when she tries to object (Tuvok coolly decides not to get involved).

Harry meanwhile is sprinting to the med bay (he’s not risking the transporter with neonates of an unrecorded species) with an armful of deeply bewildered salamanders.

A temporary habitat is set up in Sick Bay while their care needs are established – including enrichment and education, because as a brain scan and mind meld determine, these kiddos are indeed fully sapient (and very confused and scared by the events of the past few days).

The crew asks about reverting them back to baseline human, but the Doctor informs them there’s nothing to revert – his method works off the subject having been human at some point, and these kids have never not been squishy.

They can’t stay in Sick Bay forever, of course, and will require regular care wherever they end up – ultimately, it’s decided the whole family will move into a vacant officers’ quarters, with Engineering converting the common area into a tank/terrarium.

Of course, this new cohabitation situation means confronting that mountain of weird feelings – after a rather fraught period of counseling, parenting establishment, and romantic experimentation, Tom and Harry eventually settle into a mostly-platonic partnership.

Amid said period, the kids finally get names – meet Philo Jonah, Micah Drew, and Jamie Kris Paris-Kim (after esteemed Starfleet captains, tweaked for gender neutrality – even if they can guess the kids’ sexes now, there’s no guarantee they’ll stay that way).

Harry with the babies:

Tom with the babies:

Whenever both Harry and Tom have to be on duty (or just need a break), other crewmates are often roped into babysitting (Chakotay volunteers whenever he can, mostly out of guilt – when he can’t himself, he can usually talk B’elanna into it).

As “evolved beings”, the triplets’ intellectual development is accelerated – when they’re about 2 years old, they start going to lessons and holodeck playdates with Naomi Wildman, and later the Borg kids.

While the Paris-Kims prefer a warm, damp environment, amid the regular chaos on Voyager it’s discovered that they can withstand just about anything due to the nature of the Threshold mutation (essentially, having briefly existed at every point in the universe at Warp 10, the human body attempted to adapt to all of them, settling on Extremophilic Amphibian as Most Likely To Survive Everywhere) – a trait which comes in handy in some particular disasters.

Language is an interesting challenge with the triplets – they can understand Federation Standard, but can’t vocalize it, so they have to come up with and teach their own chirp-based analogues (coding “Pakimese” into the ship’s translator becomes Micah’s pet project).

Their physical growth is also unusual, quite different from their parents (it seems being born fishy is more stable than having fishiness thrust upon one), as they slowly develop more humanoid arms and thoraces while never showing hind leg stumps – by adulthood they’ve nearly gone full mermaid.

To help the kids get around the ship without having to crawl everywhere, Harry and B’elanna develop mobility devices for them, creating a sort of hybrid wheelchair-segway that allows the kids to lie forward in their natural posture rather than sit backwards in a chair.

Harry gets a promotion. This has nothing to do with Threshold, it just needs to happen.

Tom’s initially reluctant to pursue a relationship with B’elanna with his family obligations, but Harry eventually encourages him. When the two get married, Harry and the kids are Tom’s groomsmen, and when B’elanna gets pregnant, family swim time is one of the first planned activities.

Once contact is reestablished with the Alpha Quadrant, it takes Harry a few tries before he works up the courage to tell his family about their new additions. It takes John and Mary a while to fully grasp their origins (“Who’s the lucky girl?” “Um… Tom?”), but they adore their grandkids from day one.

Tom, meanwhile, staunchly refuses to inform his father about his grandchildren, not wanting him to mess them up too – when Voyager finally reaches Earth, Owen Paris damn near has a heart attack when he finds Tom with 2 partners and 4 kids.

In adulthood, Philo becomes a geoengineer and joins one of the first permanent survey outposts in the Delta Quadrant, reconnecting with and later marrying her childhood friend Mezoti. Micah settles on Earth as a xenolinguistics professor, programming fantasy holonovels in their spare time. Jamie is the only one to join Starfleet as an officer, studying astrogation and becoming the first “human” in Cetacean Ops.

[cupcakeslushie]

Happy holidays!

It’s hard to say how Donnie would react in every circumstance, especially an AU, which ya know, is where I kinda live lol. But even with my EW Donnie growing up with different experiences, there are moments where i actively want him to be different, but moments i have to sit and think about how he’s still the same lovable purple guy.

Canon Donnie is such a people pleaser. Donnie’s love language is clearly acts of service/gift giving, creating inventions to make the family’s lives easier…and when they don’t, Donnie tends to either go into a denial mode, refusing any criticism, or fix it mode.

He can’t handle the idea of just dropping a project—not until he has no other choice. When Shelldon literally destroyed the lair and nearly killed them all, Donnie insisted he could improve him. When he saw the billboard for Purple Game 2, he was still 100% invested in getting that game, despite knowing full well how much damage his obsession caused, and that it was a ploy created by the Purple Dragons. When April went to Witch Town, instead of him, he took that as the highest insult to his talents. If Donnie’s got a worm in his brain for something, he’s not going to let anything stop him—sometimes even, to the detriment of his family’s health.

He loves them, obviously, but he can still be very self involved, and it often blinds him to how he’s hurting them. I personally think this comes from having Raph and Leo always there to be his safety net/older siblings. If something goes awry, they’ll take care of it, Donnie is the results guy, not the plan guy. I see a lot of fanon Donnie taking on everything— taking charge in a emergency—and I’m not ragging, I even enjoy seeing that trope of Donnie working himself to death, doing it all, when it’s written very well—but in canon, Donnie relies a lot on Raph and Leo as team leaders for support and guidance. I think if something were to happen to both of them, he’d need some time to panic and pull himself together. He trusts their judgment (only ever pushing back with a few follow up questions) and backs them up. They come up with the plan, and he figures out how to implement it, or just follows along until his intelligence (or sarcasm) is needed. The times we do see Donnie take charge, he has zero patience for it lol (see Mind Meld). He will stand back, if he doesn’t have much to do and snark about what’s going wrong.

If it’s a fight situation, Donnie’s usually not the one to charge in headfirst. In both Shredder fights (and a few others), he allows the others to go in swinging before he takes a go, and then right off the bat, he pulls out some pretty big final moves (whether they worked as final moves, well 😬) so I think Donnie tends to leave the super physical stuff to the other three, unless it’s a one vs one, or if he can see they need help. He IS a great fighter, that’s for damn sure, but I think if he can go last, and make it into a big show, he has more fun with it.

There is the attention seeking, seeing as he’s a middle child. This is where I get into heavy head canon territory…

We can maybe, safely assume from canon, that Splinter gives Donnie the least amount of attention. I do think the Splinter attention goes-> Mikey, Leo (tho most of that attention is negative from being reprimanded lol), Raph, then Donnie. And while Leo tells himself the negative attention he gets from being a little shit is the same as any attention, I think Donnie desperately needs positive attention, and someone to validate all his creations.

I hope any of that made sense. I’m not the best at writing down my thoughts on a character’s motivations and personality lol. I’m mostly going off vibes when I write.

[monster-mash-m]

Past my limit

Halsin x Afab!Reader

MDNI

Urggggg I can’t get this big beefy man off my mind it’s actually a problem.

Cw: smut with oh so very little plot, size difference, Afab reader, words like ‘pretty’ and ‘beautiful’ to describe reader, gn reader, pinning, growling, spoilers for act 3, Halsin is at his limit, p in v sex, creampie, biting, established relationship, grinding.

Lemme know if I missed any!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

It was a cool night in the camp. Everyone was surrounding the campfire, bantering and telling their little stories of the day to one another. You telling Gale and shadowheart about how you got turned into a wheel of cheese at the circus. Of course they laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

You continued to talk and listen in turn, that was until your hairs stood on end, you felt hungry eyes on you. Your skin rose in goosebumps as you turned your head in the direction of the feeling of the demanding stare, and who it belonged to. Halsin. Is eyes trained on you like a predator ready to pounce, his whole body tense, the veins in his arms bulged as he restrained himself.

You smirked and quickly looked away. You and halsin had a little… bet at the moment. You and him were the camps official pda couple and you somehow made a little bet with each other. On who could last the longest without any sexy time. And my, you have not made it easy for the Druid.

Accidentally stopping abruptly infront of him when he’s following behind you, getting him to press up against you. Or timing your bathing time so when he goes to bathe, you’re out of the river putting on a show of drying yourself off. Or how you licked the honey from your hands a few days ago, making intense eye contact with him. All of this, it was driving him crazy that he couldn’t touch you. He started looking like a mad man, not to mention how irritable he had become to others.

So now you’re sat at the fire with a smug grin. Astarion ever the prying type lets out his typical wine aunt laugh “Tav dear, what are you doing to the poor Druid? He looks like he’s about to explode.” You snicker and smirk back “oh I bet he is.” You make eye contact with halsin licking your teeth as you look down to his lips. His eye twitched. Wyll rolled his eyes and Gale let out a scoff at the whole scene, the less open people at the camp.

You stand up “Hm, I think I shall have a walk in the woods, would anyone like to join me-“ before you could even finish Halsin was on his feet and looming next to you “I shall accompany you my heart…” he gruffed out. Everyone giving eachother knowing glances as Halsin practically drags you to your usual…. Fun spot.

You grunt with a grin as he presses you against a tree, his large hands firmly on your squishy hips. “My heart…” his voice strained and full of need. He pressed against you, gods he was already rock solid. He subconsciously began to grind against you, “you’ve pushed me to my limit… every waking moment I’ve wanted to devour you, claim you infront of all our friends… you’re a little minx…” he groaned out with a tattered breath.

“Awh seems like my big Druid can’t stand a little teasing?” You let out a condescending coo with a pout to tease him, push him further. His eyes glowed that dangerous yellow as he let out a low growl that rumbled in his chest “You play dangerous games my dear…”

“Do I?” You purr as you begin to tug on his trousers. “What prizes do I get for playing such games?” One of your hands sneaks down to palm his straining cock before pulling his hot cock out. He shuddered and practically ripped your clothes off, it’s fine I’m sure he’ll get you some more sometime. “You win the inability to walk tomorrow.” He whispered as his eyes glazed over as his growling eyes traced your body. “And I get the prize of taking my hearts cunt.” He chuckled cockily.

He dives into you neck and begins to kiss and suck, missing your scent, your taste, the way your skin melds with his so perfectly. He grunted as he hoisted you up, making you wrap your legs around his firm but soft hips. You gasp, feeling his pre dripping cock slide between your ass cheeks. He resisted the urge to thrust as his hands gripped onto you greedily.

He pulled away with a smirk as he admired the myriad of hickeys on your neck and collar bone “mh… nod isn’t this better my heart?” You nod with a love struck face “Halsin please… I know I’ve managed to stay calm but… gods I miss you… your fat cock, I want you to fuck me. Hard, and now.” You gaze up at him, your words making his heavy cock twitch. “Yes my heart, what kind of partner would I be to not oblige?”

He carried you to a soft patch of grass and laid you down, hovering on top of you. His one of his hands instantly trails to your wet cunt “Mh, I’m glad to see the feeling is mutual…” he chuckled to himself as he sunk a finger into your fluttering cunt slowly. His breath hitches as yours does, he bites his lip as he watches his finger disappear. “Oak father guide me… I can’t hold back much longer, if I do… I might truly lose myself…” he muttered.

The man was impatient, he needed to be inside of you like now. Only problem was, he won’t fuck you until he knows you’re stretched enough to take his thick cock. He grunted impatiently as he grabbed your hips and pulled them upwards until your head was inbetween his thighs, his cock resting against your neck and cheek. Your back pressed against his chest and legs on his shoulders “Ah Halsin wha-Ahh-“ you gasp out before you could ask him what the fuck he was doing.

His thick tongue licked a slow stripe up your glistening cunt. He groaned at the taste “sweeter than the finest fruits nature has to offer my heart…” he growled before digging in. He resumed his fingering, slowly adding more and more until he was 4 fingers deep. All while his lips were wrapped around your clit with eagerness, sucking and licking with urgency.

Your body tensed as wave after wave of warmth built up in your abdomen as Halsin brought you closer and closer to the brink. He was practiced, he knew where and when to poke and prod at your sensitive slit. You noticed quite a large amount of pre smudging against your cheek. “Halsin- please-“ you pleaded. He looked up from his meal. “Need you in me now, fuck me full of your cum.” With that he froze. His eyes narrowing as he let out a low as fuck growl. He pulled away from your dripping cunt licking your juices of his lips “yes my heart.”

He immediately complies as he lays you down again gon your back. Not wiping away the pre on your cheek since he had more important matters to attend to. He immediately lined the angry red mushroom tip of his cock up with your excited entrance. “Brace yourself my love.” He hummed out gruffly as he groaned, slowly pushing his pre covered tip in.

“Oh gods… my heart your cunt is always so tight for me…” he huffs out as he isn’t even half way in. You let out a shaky moan at the feeling of being stretched out by his second leg. “Fuck halsin… I swear you’ve gotten bigger…” he lets out another breathless chuckle as he slowly stuffs you full. He grunted after he’s finally bottomed out in you. Waiting for a moment or two for you to adjust to his fat cock.

Soon after you begin to squirm “Halsin… fuck- hurry up and ravage me already.” You hiss out demandingly. He just laughed again at your demanding tone “I’m just making sure I don’t actually break you my heart.”

Soon he begins to move his hips slowly, it was clear it was hard for him to hold back, sweat rolled down his hairy chest as he gazed at you intensely. You keened out at feeling his heavy girth drag against your clenching walls as he moved in and out slowly. “I’m going to go faster now my heart…” he whispered lowly. You only able to respond in a nod as he began to pick up the pace.

Soon not after he’s ramming into your cunt like a feral beast, he has your legs pressed against your chest as he hits every deep spongy spot in you. Making you mewl his name as you scratch his back. His heavy breeder balls slapped against your ass as his hips went at a rapid pace. His muscles tense in delight everytime he heard a lewd squelch of your cunt being stuffed. “Halsin- I’m close- fuck” you groan out throwing your head back as he bullied his cock in and out of your pussy,

His own thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic as he got closer to his own climax “my heart… fuck-“ he swore out in bliss as his abdomen contracted, along with yours. You both let out whorish noises in unison as you gush around his cock, your walls spasming, sending him over the edge. His leaking cock trembled before his hot load shot into you instantly. He grunted and began to slow his hips “Silvanas really blessed me with such a beautiful partner…” he gasped out as he gulped in air to catch his breath.

You hum and smile goofily “gods I needed that good fuck .” He once again chuckled, pulling out, his seed oozing out of your used cunt. “That’s it my heart… “ he hummed gently as he finally pulled all the way out. “You lost.” You say with a cheeky smirk, making him roll his eyes.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Urg love me that man.

Hope y’lot enjoyyyy

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

laughter like honey dribbles ◦ l.f

-an inexperienced Felix tries to impress you by forcing his voice deeper. What do you do when it cracks mid-through?

Paring◦ Lee Felix x Fem!Reader

Words◦ 1123

Genre ◦ The fluffiest smut you'll ever read, awkward sexual situations, realistic sex where life isn't all butterflies, orgasms, and rainbows.

Warnings ◦ Reader is described as having a vagina, laughter during sex, Felix being a big baby, embarrassment (what's new), ruined orgasm ig? Ngl i feel like half of this is just a bunch of me yapping and terrible punctuation (if you find any errors PLEASE let me know, thank you).

A/N ◦ This was the very first thing I've ever posted on my tumblr literally ever and so I'm going to be reuploading all of my stuff back onto this account 😃 so why not start off here

~CookieCreates🍪

You can feel him all around you, chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart. Your bodies melded together flawlessly, as though you were molded to fit into each other's arms, and, well, each others…

He pumps in and out of you ruthlessly, perfectly tipping you closer and closer to the edge.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his rutting hips, wanting him closer, harder, deeper,

Fuck.

“What do you want, baby?” He slams his hips harder into yours, prodding all the perfect places. You choke, a rush of pleasure vibrating through your bones. “Use your words.” He pants, nibbling on the soft skin of your neck, his voice deep and low, the seductive sultry tilt sends shivers up your spine and tingles to your core. 

“Say something, anything, your voice drives me crazy,” you whine, throwing your head back in bliss. A shrill moan rips from the back of your throat as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching, electric hands reaching out to you. You brush the tips of its fingers; trailing rings of fire seem to be tickling your skin, raging beneath your bones. 

So close.

So close.

So close.

You reach, all you need is,

“Good girl.” Felix doesn't know why he did it, forced his voice lower, deeper. At the time when ecstasy was rushing through his veins, it didn't seem like such a bad idea, until he went so deep it cracked.

He wants nothing more than for the earth to crack open and swallow him whole.

He stops.

You stop.

The world stops for a moment, and all you can see are his big, brown eyes blown wide with shock. The room is completely silent; the only thing being heard is the rough pounding of your hearts and the hard blinking of your eyes which seems like all you guys are able to do. You stay like that forever. Watching. Waiting. For one of you to take one for the team and cut through the growing tension in the room. You curl your lips into your teeth, breaking the awkward stand-off on whose either going to laugh their ass off or pretend that nothing happened and continue to fuck, but with your orgasm long forgotten and the previous raging heat of the room now dwindling to nothing more than a few flickering embers, the laughter that bubbles up in your throat is beginning to be too hard to contain.

Heat floods his cheeks as he blinks, still in this weird form of fight or flight mode. His muscles tense beneath your traveling fingertips, overcome with the humiliation that burns through his chest, and figuring no matter how much he's praying for the earth to swallow him up, Mother Nature is not coming to save him, so he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, hiding from your amused stare instead. 

“Baby,” you chuckle softly, sympathetically, the sound reminding him somewhat of delicate strings of honey that float through the air. Even with the regret coursing through his veins, the sound sticks to parts of his brain that only you are allowed to occupy, so basically, all of it.

He could sum up his life with you in one simple sentence: cotton candy kisses and laughter like honey dribbles. He groans, digging his face deeper into the soft skin of your neck, the same neck that's littered with the love bites he bestowed not even moments earlier.

Oh, how the world changes. 

You can't help the spree of giggles that spill from your mouth.

“Can you come out now, please?”

"No, I'm good. I think I'm going to live here, die here, eat here, sleep here. You might as well get comfortable, baby, cause I'm staying here for the rest of my life!” He says erratically, digging his face deeper into your skin.

“My dramatic baby,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair, still damp with sweat. Time seems to trickle by as soft bouts of breathing fill the air. The heat of his cheeks burns into your neck as you attempt to coddle him out of the embarrassed home he's made in your body.

"S'embarrassing,” he mumbles, voice muddled by the depth in which he has burrowed into your flesh.

“What was that, baby? I couldn't hear you from the home you've made in my neck.” You tease, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. He lifts his head, shooting you an equally playful but unamused glare. You have to push back the laughter that threatens to leave your lips as you take in his red cheeks and shy eyes. He looks so adorable and yet so sexy at the same time. You don't know if you want to jump his bones or bake him a batch of cookies. The best part is that you know you're going to be able to do both. You lift your eyebrows, sending him a look that states, "You have to admit that really was funny," which he reciprocates with a bashful smile, not quite meeting your eyes, giving you a look back that states, "I know it was funny, but right now I'm too embarrassed to say that currently."

That's what you loved about your relationship with Felix—you didn't always have to communicate with words. Your hearts did the talking for you.

“Come on,” you giggle, “you have to admit it was kind of funny.” He rolls his eyes, a wide smile creeping onto his face. "Yeah, I guess it was kind of funny.” 

You snicker, “Thank God, cause the laughter wasn't going to hold itself in for very long.” 

"Ugg, I hate you.” His words were as soft as silk, holding not even a centimeter of malice. He buries himself back into the permanent place he's made his home. 

“But I love you.” You whisper, your lips grazing the crown of his head, soft hairs tickling your chin.

You loved Felix, and he loved you, and even though the mood was ruined and hope for an orgasm was gone, you wouldn't trade it for the world. How could you when he was exactly that. Your world. 

“Okay, as much as I hate to say this, you can't live inside of me forever; my pH levels have to be screaming right now.”

When you were a girl and the coughs started coming, your mother used to give you honey in a spoon and a tickle to the stomach, telling you that laughter was the best medicine, but mixed with the slick amber liquid, your laughter would always sound like honey dribbles, the perfect cure, but with Felix, you never had to worry about being sick because laughter was all the two of you ever spoke.

©CookieCreates (posted: June, 2nd 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

[driverlando]

💿okay wolves by one direction 😵‍💫☝🏻 with lando💝

Wolves ── Lando Norris x f!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

The night is electric with energy, the pulsing music and flashing lights creating a world where reality seems to blur at the edges. The club is packed, bodies swaying to the beat, laughter and conversations melding into an indistinct buzz. You’re at the center of it all, your presence drawing eyes and whispers from every corner. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this, the weight of attention, the envy and admiration mingling in the air around you. But tonight, there’s something different, something more dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

Lando stands beside you, his hand warm and reassuring on the small of your back. He’s been by your side all night, a protective shadow that you’re grateful for. His presence is a calming force, a silent promise that no matter what, he’s got you. The two of you have always had a connection, a bond that feels unbreakable, even in the face of the chaos that often surrounds your lives.

But tonight, you can feel the eyes on you more intensely than usual. You catch snippets of conversations as you pass through the crowd, your name on strangers’ lips, Lando’s whispered in speculation. It’s part of the territory, you suppose, dating someone in the public eye. Yet, it doesn’t make the scrutiny any less invasive, any less unsettling.

As you move through the throng of people, you notice a group of men watching you intently. There’s something predatory in their gazes, something that makes your skin crawl. One of them steps forward, a smirk playing on his lips, clearly emboldened by the alcohol and the anonymity of the crowd. He says something you can’t quite catch over the music, but the leering tone is enough to make your stomach twist.

Lando notices them too. His grip on your waist tightens subtly, a silent message that he’s aware, that he’s ready. You can feel the tension radiating from him, the protective instinct flaring up in response to the perceived threat. He doesn’t have to say anything; you know he’s on high alert, ready to step in if necessary.

The man steps closer, his smile widening as he addresses you. You barely catch the words, something suggestive and sleazy, the kind of comment that makes you want to shrink into yourself. Before you can react, Lando is there, stepping between you and the guy, his expression cool but with a hard edge. He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t need to, his presence alone is enough to send a clear message.

“Hey, man, back off,” Lando says evenly, his eyes locked onto the man’s. There’s a steely determination in his voice, a calm authority that makes it clear he’s not to be trifled with.

The man hesitates, looking between you and Lando, seemingly weighing his options. There’s a brief, tense silence, the kind that stretches out for an eternity in moments like these. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline mixing with the residual tension of the situation.

Finally, the man scoffs, rolling his eyes. He mutters something under his breath before turning away, motioning for his friends to follow. They cast one last, lingering look at you before melting back into the crowd. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the knot in your stomach loosening slightly.

Lando turns to you, his expression softening. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low, concern lacing his words.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah,” you say, though your voice is a little shaky. “Thanks.”

He pulls you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, letting the steadiness of his heartbeat soothe you. It’s moments like these that remind you why you’re so grateful to have him in your life. He’s always there, always ready to stand by your side, no matter what.

As you pull back, he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggests, his voice soft but firm. “Somewhere quieter, just us.”

You nod, the idea of leaving the noise and the crowd behind appealing. Together, you make your way through the throng of people, heading for the exit. The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, a refreshing contrast to the stuffy heat of the club.

Lando takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. He glances over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “You know,” he says, his tone lightening, “you’re kind of a troublemaker. Always attracting attention.”

You laugh softly, squeezing his hand. “Maybe,” you admit, grinning up at him. “But you’re the one who decided to date me, remember?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, I guess I like trouble,” he teases, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you that’s not just from the lingering adrenaline. There’s something comforting in knowing that, despite the chaos and the challenges, Lando is always there, steady and unwavering. The world might be full of wolves, ready to pounce at the slightest opportunity, but you know you’ll face them together, side by side.

As you walk down the quiet street, the distant sounds of the city fading behind you, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. The night sky stretches out above, stars twinkling in the clear expanse. You take a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill your lungs, grounding you in the moment.

Lando swings your joined hands playfully, glancing over at you with a fond smile. “You know,” he says, his voice soft and sincere, “I’d fight off a hundred of those guys for you. Not because I have to, but because I want to. You’re worth it.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You stop walking, turning to face him fully. “I know,” you say, looking up at him, your eyes locking. “And I love you for it.”

He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good,” he replies, pulling you into another hug. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

You lean into him, feeling the strength and warmth of his embrace. The world might be full of challenges, full of people who don’t understand, but with Lando by your side, you know you can face anything. In the quiet of the night, with the stars as your witness, you find comfort in the simple truth: together, you’re stronger than anything the world can throw at you.

[strawberrystepmom]

narumi x f!reader. implied long distance relationship. silly little fluff ft. kikoru 💖| wc 918, divider thanks to @cafekitsune

No sooner than when you’re finally able to melt into Narumi’s touch, his mouth effortlessly melding against yours, the pounding on the door begins.

“Open up!” Twin sighs leave both of you while twin fists beat on the door. Kikoru’s voice is echoing through the entire room, as bold as she is, and the dull throb at the back of your neck reminds you of just how tired and ready to relax you really are. “I know the import is in there!”

Despite the exhaustion that weighs you down after a very long international flight, you giggle and sigh. Gen glares at the door and wonders if his current annoyance is similar to a zombie or a snake; if the two of you can remain undetectable to her as long as you do not move or speak and she’ll leave. The pair of you wait it out another few seconds, glancing at each other expectantly, your fingers pushing his overgrown bangs off of his face.

“Now Narumi or I’m breaking the door again!”

You raise your brows in surprise, smirking. The man between your arms rolls his eyes, gradually peeling the blanket that is covering both of your (thankfully fully covered although if she’d shown up a few minutes later there’d be no guarantee) bodies back.

“Again? What have you been up to?”

He grumbles below his breath but you can’t quite make out what he’s saying while his bare feet touch the ground and he pads toward the door, flinging it open with the most unenthusiastic expression he can muster.

“Move.”

Kikoru shoves past him and spots you immediately, her blonde hair out of its usual style and flowing around her shoulders. She turns to him and motions for him to leave the room with her hand wordlessly.

“No. This is my room and this is my girlfriend and you can leave right now Shinomiya!”

She sticks her tongue out at him and you decide to sit up and make your way to the edge of the futon, rising fast enough to be captured into a hug. You laugh, hugging the younger woman back, glad to see her again although you could have waited until tomorrow.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting here today?” She whines while you immediately start braiding her hair as always despite the unavailability of anything to fasten your work with to make it stay.

“I figured you’d be asleep by the time I finally made it,” you shake your head, glancing over her shoulder toward your boyfriend whose frustration is practically an aura you can see radiating off of him.

“Besides, I gotta keep the Captain happy or else he’ll give you a really bad day tomorrow.”

The blonde scrunches her nose and lets go of you, stepping away. “Ew.”

You shrug. No need to elaborate further when she clearly gets it, arms folded over her chest. Her eyes dance between you and Gen, stopping to roll into the back of her skull.

Reaching to gently grab her shoulder, you smile in her direction, drawing one back from her. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, okay?”

Now your offended boyfriend finally decides to voice his opinion, taking a few steps and situating himself between you and Kikoru, eyes wide. “No! Tomorrow we are going to that res—“

You shoot Gen a wide eyed glance and he immediately nods at you, picking up that you are trying to get her out of here. Placation isn’t exactly the kindest thing to do but you are tired and desperate for a few minutes of quiet time with the man you’ve given your heart to.

You will make good on your promise, you always do, but for now she needs to go. She looks at you over Gen’s shoulder with raised brows, arms tightly crossing her chest.

“Okay but if you bail on me I’m taking the door off and you’ll get no privacy at all, you got me?”

You salute, accepting the consequences if they are to come. Chances are he’ll be dragged off after training for other official JAKDF business and that will give you at least a few hours to be filled in on Kikoru’s latest crush or frustration that nobody gets her.

She turns on her heel and prepares to leave, glancing over her shoulder one final time. “Good night, import.”

You smile and wave her off, joining Narumi’s side to gently lean against him.

“Good night Kikoru, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Each step puts her further away and Gen mumbles under his breath, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants. “What about me?”

“Don’t keep her too busy you gross asshole, we have a lot of catching up to do!” Shinomiya doesn’t bother turning around this time, only hollering over her shoulder with a flippant wave.

You shake your head and glance over at your beloved, the strongest man you’ve ever known, and rise to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Come on, you heard her. You better put in good work now while we still have time.”

Despite his annoyance, he chuckles down at you and slides that grip around your hip lower to cup your ass, taking a handful of cheek he has had to wait too long to feel again.

“Don’t forget who is in charge here,” he mutters, dipping his head to rest against your ear. You giggle and drag him toward the futon.

“Prove it.”

[theoncomingchaos]

Who loves Rook: Spite or Lucanis

I've been seeing a lot of discourse about this, and I just want to add my thoughts.

I might be totally wrong about this, but here we go. When Spite was put into Lucanis, he was still Determination. The fact that he changed throughout the torture, forced insertion, and imprisonment suggests to me that they have been put into a speedrun of a similar situation to Anders and Justice/Vengeance where they have started to meld. (As Anders put it, you wouldn't know where one begins and the other ends). Just like Anders and Vengeance, Lucanis and Spite can have separate consciousnesses and even disagree about things, but their core values have started to influence one another and become a part of one another- heightening certain aspects.

I think this melding is why we see some dialogues where Rook tells Lucanis that he sounds like Spite and similarly it's also the reason for the shared attraction- which I fully believe is coming originally from Lucanis.

I'll be honest my first time through I romanced Lucanis and was very disappointed. I didn't even see him and Neve ever flirt (she only ever encouraged us!) But still, it seemed to go from 0 to 60 with him. Now, I am on my second playthrough and I only just met him, but I am starting to see some really subtle looks and dialogues that suggest that Lucanis wasn't lying later when he said he was attracted to Rook from the beginning, but was afraid to really pursue anything or even acknowledge the possibility of being with them. With his fear of trusting people, ptsd from the prison, failed history in romance, and his new situation with Spite that he still hadn't worked out yet, he never thought anything would or could ever come of his feelings. We know Lucanis loves romance stories and likely longs for one of his own, but in such a situation it must have seemed truly impossible and terrifying to let someone else in. Especially someone you really care for and are starting to trust. So, he pushed it all down. Rook flirts? Maybe a small smile, but then quickly lock it all up with everything else he can't handle. Focus on work. Don't think about Spite, or Rook, or anything difficult.

However, if the melding has already happened as I suspect, then the feelings Spite is expressing are shared with (and likely sourced from) Lucanis, he's just better at expressing it directly- which makes sense for a spirit that was once Determination. When you first talk to Lucanis after the rescue, the thing Spite says about Rook changes accordingly to your tone, but to me the responses still sound like they come from Lucanis and are then echoed in Spite: "He doesn't want to hurt us." Even the "He's more fun than you" is something Lucanis seems to think about himself as he is fully aware that much of his life has not been his own and believes "all he knows is death."

Leading back to the main point, Lucanis's trust and interest in Rook would be heightened by Spite the way Anders' anger towards the templars was heightened. Even though they are finally free from the prison, their is a sense of constant suffering from still feeling trapped by fear, regret, and pain- Spite feels that suffering too. The elements of determination are still within him the same way justice is another side to vengeance. Both spite and vengeance are the results of failing to achieve their goals of Justice and Determination. Spite sees Rook as a way to free them from pain and restraint, a glowing and beautiful key to the prison door, and he is determined to do what needs to be done to solve the problem. That's why he doesn't hesitate. He has no fear. He wants to talk to Rook. He wants Rook to come in and free them.

After Rook has freed them, they become a source of comfort and safety, once they encourage Lucanis and Spite to find a way to cohabit comfortably, the two continue to meld, and the need to protect Rook, to love Rook, to keep them, is very deeply shared. Now, IF Spite was somehow removed or even somehow restored (Both of which I think are impossible) that would likely change. Determination outside of Lucanis would likely become more like Compassion. He would likely forget the horrors he experienced to return to his original purpose.

So, that leaves some final questions, particularly one Hawke helpfully asked Anders- Is Spite an unwilling party in the threesome?

That's up to everyone's own morality. While both Spite and Lucanis didn't have a choice to become like this, it is the situation they are in and the way they have to find a way to accept and live with because there really doesn't seem to be any real way to change it. Through their time together, Lucanis and Spite have influenced each other and grown into something new. Part of that is Spite also loving Rook. In that way, for those who are feeling (rightfully) underwhelmed by Lucanis's romance, Spite can almost be seen as a symbolic expression of Lucanis's love.

All that being said, I think there were some small things they could have done to make the romance more satisfying over all...but I'll save that for another post.

[butterfly-stitches]

INSTINCT.

[ Explicit ] // MDNI

AO3

Pairings: Russell Adler x Bell, Frank Woods x Bell Ensemble: Russell Adler, Frank Woods, Alex Mason, Reader, Bell (Implied Fem!Bell), Helen A. Park, Eleazar "Lazar" Azoulay, Lawrence Sims, Jason Hudson

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse, Military Inaccuracies, Medical Inaccuracies, A/B/O Prejudice, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Medical Experimentation, Accidental Knotting, Knotting, Claiming Bites, Animal Instincts, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Scenting, Scent Marking, Older Man/Younger Woman, Hurt/Comfort, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Second Person, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Betrayed by your own and left for dead, you were captured and interrogated by the enemy. But you gave them nothing. Desperate times call for desperate measures as the saying went. And by it, the use of MK-Ultra. Melding you into something more manageable. Making you believe that you work alongside the CIA and have known Adler for many years. But what your capturers didn’t expect was the byproduct of transmutation in the after process of menticide. Turning you, an alpha, into an omega. Now Adler and the rest of the team must learn to adapt and adjust to an omega in their military pack. All while trying to stop the puppeteering machinations of a once dormant Soviet spy network led by a man, and your old pack alpha, known only as Perseus.

But having an omega on the team only makes things more complicated than necessary. Especially one so unpredictable and so fresh out of MK-Ultra. An alpha and an omega naturally gravitate towards each other like a binary black hole. And no one, not even a highly desensitized alpha like Adler, can deny their instincts forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: variable.

Words: 2,272 Summary: In which you are remolded …

“You’re sure?” 

Outside a bright white lab room, in a just as bright hallway, two figures watched from behind a one-way glass window. The tall one had a cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth, puffing away leisurely despite the building being a smoke-free area. It was well-ventilated enough was his reasoning, stress was another. But the woman next to him didn’t complain nor comment, being an avid smoker herself. 

Nonetheless, the woman beside him nodded at the question.

“I am.” 

The man inhaled, his cigarette glowing brighter at the end with his deep intake. The woman next to him’s answer slowly seeped in his head. It was a heavy thing to process. His fatigue-addled brain only made it harder for him to come to terms with it and the situation that would follow. 

Smoke fell from the man’s marred lips.

“Run those tests again.”

But the woman right beside him didn’t move, shifting the clipboard that she cradled in her arms instead. Pages and pages of test results from various trials, medical and psych evaluations, were fastened to it. But she didn’t need to look them over again to double check and verify what they all indicated. She knew.

“Already done — they all came to the same conclusion.”

The man next to her was silent once more. His cigarette burned idly between his fingers as a thin smoky thread swirled away from the smoldering end. The woman handed him the clipboard, giving him a glance here and there as he flipped through the pages meticulously. Cigarette clamped between his lips as he read through the results. But the man found that it was as she claimed it to be. The test results were indicating the same thing; the subject’s designation status had indeed regressed. 

Wordlessly, the man handed back the clipboard. Pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out the smoke with a long exhale, processing it with a newfound clarity. Still staring into the windowed wall from behind his dark aviators. Eyes still dead set on the coroner gurney in the far center of the room.

An alpha turned omega…

Well, that definitely threw a wrench into the works. 

Such a phenomenon wasn't empirically impossible – just extremely rare; intermittent and indeterminable. An idiopathic etiology of menticide in theory. Although not unprecedented. Alex Mason, another hapless guinea pig of MK-Ultra, had suffered the same thing. Over time, throughout the process, Mason’s designation status had wholly changed too. At the flip of a switch, his biology had altered entirely in order to adapt to his new status. As well as the entire rewiring of an already broken brain. But Mason's biological transmutation had not been as drastic as the subject’s. Not as non-sequential; Having only turned from being an alpha to a beta. 

Even the man’s own brief employment with the Advanced Technologies and Applications program in Eastern Kentucky couldn’t replicate or even culminate such results in their human trials and experimentations. Yet he was used to things not all going according to plan, adapting and thinking on your feet was a part of the job. But this… this was more of a major setback than he preferred. Omegas only made things more complex than necessary.

“Adler?” The woman next to him lifted her thin brow at him as he brewed in his thoughts. Concerned by his prolonged silence. But his eyes didn't move to meet her inquisitive look. 

“This doesn’t change our mission.” He informed her. 

“Clearly,” She said, turning back around to view the bright room in front of them. Just like the older man next to her. “But it does make things quite difficult, however.”

Adler exhaled a smoky breath. And, after a moment, asked. “How do you think we should approach this then, Park?”

The woman next to him audibly hummed. Lips pursed in thought as her manicured fingernails drummed on the back of the clipboard. “Well, I suppose we still stick to the plan. With minor adjustments of course.”

“Minor adjustments?” 

Agent Park nodded. “And more precautions, yes. The subject will need a lot more necessities than before. More support, more monitoring. Omegas can be quite… ”

“Needy.” He finished her sentence. 

Park, in turn, gave Adler a look, sharp eyes narrowing. Sensing his surly mood. “ Sensitive . Omegas can easily go into distress if their needs aren’t met, especially if they can’t adjust to new territory. Let alone a new pack. No matter how temporary it will be.”

Adler went quiet again. Half cigarette burned idly between his fingers. He felt the fatigue weigh down on him even more now. The caffeinated surge of energy from his dark roast coffee prior was starting to wear off. And another cigarette wouldn’t hurt as well. 

“Didn’t take you for such an advocate, Park.”

“Only when necessary. It's effective when I encounter stubborn men too set in their ways.”

The beta woman’s goading was lighthearted, he knew. An attempt to nullify the sullenness that was growing palpable in the air. But he brushed it off nonetheless, like a piece of lint on his shirt.

Park eyed Adler. Watched as he pulled his aviators off and rubbed a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. Massaging at the stress gathered there, where his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Adler blew out a harsh smoke-filled sigh, hanging his aviators on his woolen vest. The bright fluorescent lighting was starting to make his head throb. 

“Adler. There’s no other contingency plan to fall back onto. In order to get what we need and when we need it, accommodations are necessary whether we like it or not. This is the only way.”

But Adler knew Park was right. To try and construct another course of action would only be detrimental in the long run. Time was going without a hitch or a hurdle. And who was he to ask it to change its nature? Results needed to be made and progress needed to be set into motion. 

“Guess, you’re right. We have no choice but to stick with the plan.” 

“With adjustments, of course.” Park added on.

Adler shifted forward, leaning his weight on the narrow windowsill. His aviators on the collar of his wool sweater vest clunked against the high clearance badge on his lanyard. They both stood there stationary, both occupied with their own thoughts.

“Hudson might burst a blood vessel over this.” Adler then said, breaking the silence between them. 

With a sardonic curl of her oxblood lips, Park only snickered. “Let’s hope so. It beats having him breathing down our necks for once.”

Adler didn’t say much more after that. Only stared into the lab room towards you – the sedated subject strapped to the gurney in the far center. A shallow crease soon appeared between his brows, tongue running across gritted teeth, tracing along pointed canines. 

An alpha turned omega…

How pathetic. 

It was almost pitiful. To witness how far the mighty had fallen. Not just for a Russian loyalist so high on Perseus’ totem pole, but as an alpha. For one’s very nature, one’s entire being to up and change. To crack and crumble under deceit and pressure. From a great redwood that stood tall against the gales only to be felled; whittled down until you were nothing but splinters of firewood. 

Admittedly, he had been impressed at first; Alpha to Alpha, face to face. Understanding of your disposition. Your stubbornness, your aggression, your loyalty to your pack’s idealism. Your piety to your pack alpha: Perseus. Even for a person betrayed by one of your own. Resilient to any traditional methods in their arsenal. Unbroken, unbridled. Even throughout the long hours of interrogation and torture. How shameful you were now. Pliant and pacified. An inferiority before him now. Adler supposed that you were never a true alpha in the end. There was always a weakness inside you it seemed. And such weakness needed to be culled.

But those grievances were more idiosyncratic, a disgraceful thing to his inner alpha. Your subjugation from MK-Ultra made you more useful now. Even if your brain was nothing but pulp and rind in the end. Omega or not, you were a vital asset now more than ever. 

And Adler would make sure to get use out of you. 

He was growing restive. 

Stuck in the office, sitting around all day, and doing nothing but paperwork. For a man of action like Adler, it was a fate worse than death. Like an addict, he was feening; an adrenaline junkie without an arrant dosage of the rush that came naturally within his line of work. What was supposedly a short-term position, lasting no longer than a few days, turned into a week of doing nothing but paperwork. He was a workaholic. But a white-collar worker was an antithesis to his very being. Being idle for so long was eating away at his composure and his patience wore paper thin.

But orders were orders. And protocol preceded him.

Adler had just finished up his tedious workload, eyes stinging from staring at papers all day, when there came a knocking on his office door. He turned just as Park opened the door, giving her a nod as she entered inside his space. The sterile scent of antiseptic and bleach clung to her, overpowering the stench of stale smoke and coffee in the room. A concentrated contrast that made Adler crinkle his nose at it. Feeling an urge to sneeze in order to clear his sinuses.

He watched as Park settled herself across the room, leaning against the filing cabinets in front of the desk. But even from afar, Adler could see her exhaustion. The droop in her usual head-held-up-high posture. Dark bags under her eyes, the blanch of her skin. Noticeable no matter how much Park tried to hide it with concealer and blush.

Adler leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at her. “Any updates?” 

“Yes. The sedation was a success and the subject is recovering fairly well. Just a bit of sickness from being under sedation, largely for longer than was anticipated. But a full recovery is to be expected.”

He hummed. “It lasted longer than I thought.” 

The undercurrent of disgruntlement wasn’t lost on Park, especially as beta. So biologically intuited with the influx of emotions, even the slightest change. The beta woman adjusted the reading glasses on her face. 

“Unsurprisingly. First heats are unpredictable in how long they last. Some last a few days, even weeks. But even after, the heats that follow remain irregular. It takes months before they start to stabilize. Especially without an alpha to help.”

Adler made an interested noise. Mindlessly taking a sip of coffee that had long grown cold. “Seems intricate.”

“Quite so.” The beta woman let out a soft sigh, “But for the subject’s first heat to come so suddenly after MK-Ultra well …” Park paused then shook her head as if to stop her overthinking, “Well, no need to dwell on it further. It’s one less thing to worry about in Berlin. I suppose we were lucky in that regard.” 

“Hm, some are luckier than others.”

Park crossed her arms, eyeing Adler. 

“I suppose so.” She said, “But you know the procedures. You can’t be anywhere near the lab. You’re lucky you were even allowed to work, let alone be at the facility.”

“I can control myself.” He fished out a cigarette carton from the pocket of his leather jacket hanging off the coat rack next to him. “But filling out paperwork and filing it away all day’s not what I signed up for. S’not my job.”

Park smiled. “I think it quite suits you actually.”

Adler’s lips pressed tight, tapping the carton against his hand until a cigarette slid out onto his palm. “Do I have clearance, Park?”

She regarded him for a moment. “You do.”

“Good.” Adler settled the cigarette between his lips. “About time.” 

“You know patience is a virtue. Has anyone told you that, Adler?” Park exhaled out.

“All the time.” He mumbled behind his teeth, thumbing at his lighter. The cigarette in his mouth smoldered, catching the flame. And Adler inhaled. Then blew smoke out in a slow and steady exhale of breath. “But in my experience, patience is nothing but passivity and a goddamn waste of time.”

“As I said: stubborn men too set in their ways.”

Adler only huffed on his cigarette, lip curled at the edge. 

“We leave in a couple days. The subject will be ready before then.”

Park turned to leave but stopped herself, turning on her heel as she looked at the man quietly. “And Adler?”

He canted his head to the side towards Park standing in the doorway. Cigarette resting between his blunt fingertips, simmering low. Lips pressed into a fine line. 

“Happy Birthday.”

She then left with the shut of the door and the click of heels fading down the hallway. Leaving the pristine smell of the lab lingering in the office. Despite its strong scent, Adler found some relief with it. Back on the job and back on the hunt for an entity that had eluded him for decades. He lifted a hand up his face and over his scarred cheek. Delicately, calloused fingers ghosted over the plunging trenches of the Lichtenberg-like scar; a lightning strike incised into flesh. Jagged and complex. Starting from his chin, the rough terrain of his scars branched through his lips and across his left buccal plane like a tree canopy. 

A reminder carved deep into the skin; a failure that Adler would not repeat twice.

----------------------------------

A/N:

Critique welcomed and encouraged as long as it is constructive and polite (don't be rude/mean pretty please ◡̈ ).

[calmlb]

Domestic skk where Chuuya gets home after a long day at work, only to find the apartment empty, with no Dazai in sight.

The lights are off, not a sound to be heard, but Chuuya can feel Dazai’s presence— some kind of sixth sense they’ve both been cursed with since they were 15.

Chuuya slowly removes his coat & shoes, letting his eyes rove over the empty kitchen & living room, till his eyes finally catch the top of a familiar head of mussed, brown waves.

Tension he didn’t realize he was holding releases at the sight, & Chuuya takes a deep breath before padding around the couch. It would do no good for his own stress to add to Dazai’s, if tonight was indeed one of those nights.

As Chuuya rounds the sofa, he finds pretty much what he expected. Dazai is curled up against the armrest, looking small despite his gangly limbs.

What Chuuya hadn’t expected was for Dazai to be fast asleep— soft breaths puffing against the expensive fabric of the armrest.

Chuuya blinks in disbelief, but can’t help the fond smile that steals across his face. Dazai always has such a hard time sleeping, so finding him like

this was a welcome surprise. Especially compared to the more somber situation that Chuuya was worried he’d be faced with.

Chuuya removes his hat & gloves, laying them aside as he crouches in front of the couch. He shamelessly studies his partner while he can’t be teased for it.

Dazai looks peaceful— cheeks rosy with sleep, & unfairly-long lashes dusting his faint spattering of freckles.

Those freckles felt like Chuuya’s little secret, because the only way to know they existed was if one got close enough to see.

And it was no secret that Dazai didn’t let people get that close.

Chuuya finds himself brushing a finger over those freckles, following the perfect slope of Dazai’s nose, tracing his high cheekbones down to the contour of his smooth jawline.

Chuuya pinches Dazai’s chin between his thumb & forefinger, tilting it at just the right angle to press a gentle kiss to Dazai’s forehead. He bites his lip to hold back a laugh at the way Dazai’s nose scrunches at the disturbance, but he really doesn’t want to wake the brunet. He obviously needs the sleep if he fell asleep here, still in his work clothes.

Why is Dazai out here? If he knew he was this tired, why not at least lie in bed?

Chuuya absently brushes Dazai’s bangs away from his eyes as he leans into the touch, releasing a contented sigh.

Oh. Chuuya’s eyes widen. He was waiting up for me.

Or, trying to, at least.

This time Chuuya doesn’t stop the warm chuckle from slipping past his lips. He presses another soft kiss to Dazai’s temple, then carefully scoops him into a princess hold. He carries his sleeping partner to their room, smiling as Dazai nuzzles his face into Chuuya’s neck.

His partner really is such a cat.

Chuuya sets Dazai down on the bed, careful not to wake him, & draws the blankets up under his chin, just the way Dazai likes it. He doesn’t bother getting him into comfier clothes— obviously, he was comfortable enough to fall asleep as he was.

Chuuya does change his own clothes, though, & brushes his teeth before turning off the light & slipping into bed next to Dazai.

He turns to wrap himself around Dazai from behind, but before he can, he finds himself with a face full of mackerel.

Soft hair tickles Chuuya’s chin as Dazai snuggles into him again— always seeking out the nearest heatsource.

“I thought you were asleep, you malingerer,” Chuuya scolds quietly.

“Shh, I am asleep,” Dazai whispers, nose digging into Chuuya’s breastbone as he tries to burrow into his partner’s chest.

Chuuya rolls his eyes, but he can hear the grogginess in Dazai’s voice that tells him he wasn’t faking it. He doesn’t fight the urge to bring a hand up to card through Dazai’s fluffy waves.

Dazai doesn’t grant him a response other than to press himself even closer to Chuuya, so that they’re practically melded together. Chuuya smiles, pressing one more, languid kiss to the crown of Dazai’s head— pausing to breathe him in— before closing his eyes & letting sleep overtake them both.

Chuuya version