oliveo
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Ilya noticed everything about Shane. The way his scent gradually sweetened, until it made Ilya so crazy that he made his own personal home at the base of Shane’s neck. There was also the mental fog, stuttering halfway through actions and moving onto something else, like the cookies that Shane had left in the oven yesterday. Yes, the oven was on. Yes, he almost burned down the kitchen, but, frankly, it was endearing. Almost as endearing as the way Shane subconsciously drifted into whatever room Ilya was inhabiting, no matter what task occupied him. Like, for instance, when Ilya had been changing and suddenly Shane had dragged a blanket and pillow into the closet with him and curled up on the floor.
OR
shane doesn't realize hes going into heat but ilya does :PSeries
- Part 2 of the omegashane agenda
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Ilya’s eyebrows rose at that, “Oh, my little omega, aren’t you supposed to be good for me?” He lowered to his elbows, licking his way down Shane’s chest, before hooking his fingers gently in the fabric of his underwear, “Don’t you want to be good for me, sweetheart?”
Shane’s heart, his body, was fracturing. He was splitting into a million pieces every place Ilya’s tongue, hands, and breath touched him. He was falling, falling, falling; he felt like a powder keg.
“Look at me, moya zhizn'.”
And with that, he burst into flames.
OR...
Shane loses his suppressants and what can he do except call Rozy !
Series
- Part 1 of the omegashane agenda
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Viktor stopped dead in his tracks as he entered their lab - their sterile (kind of), meticulously maintained (not really), extremely well-organized (blatant lie) lab. There was a - thing on the floor. Playing with his notes. Crumpling them up with one hand and using his favorite pencil in the other to scribble. All. Over. His. Notes. The thing had short brown hair sticking up in random tufts and stubby grimy fingers and - Was that Jayce’s shirt it was drowning in? “Jayce. Love. What the fuck is that?”
just a little 5 +1 jayvik kid fic :)
Recent series
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“When’s the last time you washed your hands?” Mel asked.
Frank paused, confused, and then shrugged a shoulder. “Uh - two minutes ago?”
“Have you touched anything since?”
“No. I mean, nothing besides you.”
“Alright. And - do you trust me?”
“Yeah, I trust you.”
“Um, can you - can I do something, and - and can you not laugh at me or be weirded out because I really need this and… and you offered, you remember, you offered to do what you could, no matter what?”
He nodded.
“You remember, Frank, you remember that you said that? You remember that you promised?”
“Yes,” he stressed. Really, what was the weirdest thing she could do? Recite all 118 elements of the periodic table? List all the books of the bible? Rap Hamilton at him really fast without breaking eye contact?
Take his hand and stick two of his fingers in her mouth?
Bookmarked by oliveo
13 Mar 2026
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Her thoughts are as follows: If Subject A (Mel) shows signs of discomfort, Subject B (Frank) will try to help, and vice versa. Therefore, if A is in need of a replacement for an article of clothing, B will do his best to provide A with one.
It’s shaky logic, all things considered, but it’s enough.
All that’s left is for Mel to put her hypothesis to the test.
Or: Mel can’t stop stealing Frank’s clothes. It’s becoming quite the problem.
Bookmarked by oliveo
14 Feb 2026
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the whole world is sleeping (but my world is you) by fromiftowhen
Fandoms: The Pitt (TV)
01 Jun 2025
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Frank has never been a good sleeper. It's a blessing and a curse in turn, but he's made peace with needing less sleep than anyone he's ever met.
And then he meets Mel King, and she changes that.
(She changes everything.)
OR — Over a series of late night talks, texts, FaceTimes, and maybe dates, Langdon and Mel fall in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.
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- English
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by oliveo
01 Feb 2026
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“I didn’t break in,” Dennis protests, sounding mildly put out. “You gave me a key.”
“Yeah,” Robby grumbles. “For emergencies.”
“This is an emergency,” Dennis shrugs. He takes off his jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair.
“It’s not an emergency,” Robby sighs. “It’s just a strained muscle.”
“I don’t know,” Dennis says, staring down at him from narrowed eyes. “Looks like an emergency to me.”
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- English
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Bookmarked by oliveo
23 Jan 2026
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The index finger at his sternum felt like the muzzle of a gun. Whitaker’ heart jumped further up his throat. He could feel his heartbeat burning on his tongue.
“Do you just do whatever people tell you?”
Whitaker fucks up. Then Robby fucks up worse.- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by oliveo
22 Jan 2026