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#hq m
milimeters-morales · 10 months
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no but fr like i just think Miles would avoid HQ as much as possible and not want to leave his dimension as much anymore after all this. like he avoids the other spideys besides the gang (unless he’s forced to interact with them), and avoids even them for a good while after all is said and done (mostly just peter gwen and peni). He gets called to HQ for a mission? Hell no, get someone else to do it he knows there’s someone else available. He gets a watch? Cool, he’s dismantling it immediately and giving the pieces either to Ganke or storing them away for when he wants to make his own. Party in another dimension he’s invited to? He’s got a super bad migraine planned that day, don’t ask again.
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rumble-bee-art · 6 months
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Taking the work part out of work husbands
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mobius-m-mobius · 8 months
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OWEN WILSON and RAFAEL CASAL in LOKI S2 (2023)
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kuoro · 11 days
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decisive battle at the garbage dump ✗ kenma
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wonderoustime · 8 months
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don't get me wrong, atsumu is most definitely an outdoorsy person, but the kind of dates he loves the most are all the indoor ones. and not indoors as in dining at a restaurant or dying of cuteness in cat cafés or wandering through an art gallery, oh no.
indoors as in holed up in your house, wrapped in each others' arms like the lovestruck little gremlins you are, gorging on cheap, greasy yet the most delicious takeout you've ever had (along with a few of osamu's onigiris which seriously can't belong on the same league as your takeout) while binge-watching trashy romcoms and the most predictable action series.
or indoors as in experimenting with new cookie recipes and slow-dancing with him to the music playing out of your phone, accidentally causing them to burn and taste terrible, yet end up being finished in less than five minutes.
or indoors as in curled up on your bed, his head on your chest, your soft voice reading aloud to your favorite book as you gently stroke his hair lulling him to a deep, deep sleep where the coziness of the blankets and the comfort of him accidentally leads to you taking a nap, too, in the middle of the day.
those kinds of indoors >>>
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satwru · 2 years
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cw size kink, nsfw//
kuroo is big. in every aspect of the word; his hands, his body, his cock, everything. he loves making you feel small around him and pretends it doesn’t turn him on. comparing hand sizes, feeling how small your body is when he hugs you, even little things like picking you up, or when you sit on his lap, he adores it. but still, his favorite is how he can easily toss you over during sex, taking every chance he can to overpower you. how he can lift you up to bounce on his cock standing up, holding your hips to be in control of every thrust. also pinning both of your hands to bed with only one of his to hold you in place, smiling while you struggle to take all of him, and sneakily sliding a hand to your neck to slightly apply pressure. he loves it all a little too much.
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zmbiesuga · 7 months
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I literally jumped with joy when you fallowed me back omg ily sm. So I was at the doctors and my doctor told me how he proposed to his wife and it was so sweet. He said he was stressed from finals and he had like a dream that his wife died and he dreamed of everything he couldn’t do with her. So when he woke up it was like 2 in the morning and he ran to his room to get the ring he had. He had it for two whole like years but ran to her dorm and begged her to say yes because he couldn’t wait. Could you write a fic of kuroo doing that with his boyfriend?
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JUMP THEN FALL — k. tetsuro x m!reader
sypnosis: kuroo has always known that he wanted to marry you, and he's always said that he'll do it when he knows it's right. what's more perfect than asking after he had a dream about you dying?
warnings: mentions of death (nothing too graphic but still), kuroo being a fucking loser dork but i adore him so it's fine <3, fluff, happy ending!, angst if you squint really really hard, kuroo and reader are in their last year of college in this one, but i'm not in college yet so idfk how it works but i'll pretend i do!! use of the petnames 'babe' and 'baby'
notes: okay i'm so so sorry this took so long, i had a really bad depressive episode, i hope you like it, this request is really cute and i had a lot of fun writing it :D and two, that is so nice of you to say omg :( of course i followed you back, you always send me requests, you interact with my stuff a lot and you're just really nice so thank you for that <3
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Kuroo has always wanted to marry you, it's the one thing he's been sure of in his entire life.
When you bring up marriage to him, however, he just tells you to "be patient" and that he'll "do it when he knows it's right" which constantly keeps you on your toes in case your dork of a boyfriend decides that the "right time" is during one of your lectures or at any inappropriate time really.
It kept Kuroo on his toes too, because what you don't know is that in the far-right corner of his sock drawer holds a small velvet box with a beautiful band inside of it. Every day he can feel his hand graze over the box, thinking to himself, maybe now is the right time.
But then he shakes his head, and decides it isn't.
And besides, as much as Kuroo loves you, he has finals to worry about. And they're really kicking his ass.
Although most people would peg Kuroo as the focused studious type (which he tried so desperately to be), the truth was that he tried so hard to procrastinate as much as possible. However, was it really procrastination if he needs the sleep?
When it was to avoid studying for finals, yes it was.
"Kuroo, sleeping to avoid studying for finals is not something you should do," your voice rippled out through the speaker of his phone, "especially if it's every single time you have them."
"Babe, you are the one who is constantly nagging me to sleep more," he rebutted, that stupid cocky tone he always had lingering in the back of his throat ever present, "I'm finally listening to you, I think you should take that as a win."
"Kuroo," your voice cracked again through that shoddy android speaker again, a certain firmness to it this time, "please promise me that you'll study, you're gonna hate yourself if you don't."
"Baby, I promise you I will, you know my word to you is good," he replied, you could hear that fucking cocky grin etching itself onto his face, "right after my little nap. I love you; I'll talk to you soon."
After you too bid your goodbyes, Kuroo made himself as comfortable on that dorm room mattress as he could, until his eyes got heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.
Kuroo could have sworn it was real.
The chase, your blood curdling scream, the way his stomach dropped to the soles of his feet when he realized he was too late.
It wasn't until he shot up in bed with that same nauseous feeling sitting in his chest as his breath came out panicked and labored had he realized it was nothing but a fucked-up dream.
Kuroo had never been so happy to wake up.
Slowly, but surely, he had calmed himself down. His breath returning to normal as the nauseous feeling in his chest disappeared, what didn't disappear, however, was that he didn't want to live life without you. He didn't want to graduate without you beside him, he didn't want to start a company without you there cheering him on along the way, and he sure as hell didn't want to imagine having a family with anyone else that wasn't you. Life was too short for hesitation, it was too short for his hesitation.
He quickly rushed out of bed, pulling an old hoodie over his torso, slipping on his shoes, and rifling through his drawer to grab that velvet box that had been sitting there for two years, begging to be let free.
Luckily for him, your dorm wasn't far from his. He hadn't even bothered to check the time on his phone, where the light flashed a large: 2:03 A.M. at him, he didn't care if his frantic speed walking down the hallway woke up everyone on that floor, he was only worried about getting to you.
When he got to your dorm, he rapped his fist against the door so hard he could've sworn that his knuckles would crack open. The door opened to a very annoyed you, but he didn't care if he interrupted your sleep, or your studying, he was just so elated to see you in front of him.
"Kuroo, what the hell?" you seethed, "It's two in the morning, what on earth —"
You were quickly cut off by Kuroo dropping to one knee in the doorway of your dorm room, pulling out that velvet box in all its glory, revealing that beautiful band you had mentioned liking to him once, you couldn't control the way your mouth slightly dropped in confusion, a wave of emotions hitting you like a tsunami.
"(Y/n), please, just listen to me," he blurted out in an almost pleading tone, "I've always wanted to wait until the right moment to ask you this, but recently, I've realized that the right moment was in front of me the entire time."
You tried to get a word in, but Kuroo's word vomit was faster.
"(Y/n), I've realized there is so much I want to do with you, so much that I can't do without you," he said, you swore you could see the tears well in the corner of his eyes, "everything from this point forward is useless if I can't do it with you by my side, so I'm begging you, even though it's two a.m. and we're both in our pajamas with messy hair and dark circles under our eyes, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"
It was your turn to be stunned, you stared down at your boyf — fiancée, in front of you with stained sweatpants and an old Nekoma sweatshirt barely big enough to cover his torso asking you to marry him at two in the morning.
You stayed quiet for so long, it scared Kuroo. Maybe this wasn't the right time, you two were still in college, this was all so sudden, so impulsive, he should have waited, he should have —
All these thoughts were expelled from his head as he felt your body weight push against his, squeezing him so tight in an embrace that he could barely breath.
"Yes," you whispered against the side of his neck, he could feel the tears from your eyes splashing there as well, "oh my god Kuroo, yes, a million times over."
He smiled softly at you, resting his own head against your shoulder as you held him in your arms. If this is what the rest of his life looked like, then god was he excited for it.
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wentzologist · 5 months
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Handwritten letters from Andy, Pete, Patrick, and Joe on TTTYG, FUTCT, IOH, and FaD, respectively
- Believers Never Die - Greatest Hits (2009) CD booklet
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kutiee · 10 months
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NICHOLAS / weverse con festival 230611
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rebelliousdandy · 3 months
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after all these years, these two still have the most insane chokehold on me
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girlscapitalism · 8 months
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ODD EYE CIRCLE Singles Magazine, Sept. 2023
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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year
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hiya babe, so sorry to do 2 asks in 1 day but what’s your thoughts on chubbychaser!atsumu or chubbychaster!osamu? not even as a fic, just a general drabble i’d SCRUMM IT UP!!!
- m 🐇💌
<3 hello!!! ~~ never apologize, i love the asks babe, send em all omg.
i absolutely wrote this instead of writing the last chapter of a bit dirty, but we're not going to talk about that or mention that or worry about that <3 <3 <3
i don't know if anyone KNOWS THIS / COULD TELL but i always write chubby coded readers? it's not usually apparent until you read smut and i don't put a lot of details in there necessarily, but the little details are there. i've never mentioned it before this, but thought it's a nice little bit of information if anyone was curious. (it's just bc i am! and so! that's how i write my reader <3)
but i do have a lot of thoughts about this, okay. SPECIFICALLY about <3 osamu <3 i actually was (am?) going to write an entire thing about certain hq men that i think could handle a chubby reader (bokuto, osamu, kuroo, iwaizumi... if you're curious)
BUT YKNOW, now that i'm thinking about atsumu with a chubby afab reader, i really do be havin' some thoughts??
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idk if you wanted nsfw thoughts, but that's what you're going to get, minors dni thanks ♡ (nsfw atsumu with a chubby reader hcs under the cut)
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♡ absolutely obsessed with your plush thighs, loves grabbing at them and laying his head on them and slapping them and fucking them, lasted an embarrassingly short amount of time the first time he slid his cock between your soft, fat thighs, squeezed them tightly around his throbbing length and came between them, cooing at you about how perfect and soft and pretty they are
♡ the first time that he asks you to sit on his face, you hesitate for a fraction of a second and he picks up on it. he's serious at first, asking you what's wrong and why you don't want to, but when you tell him why you're nervous, he gets dramatic, asking you what the fuck do you mean you'll suffocate him? that's exactly the fucking point.
♡ loves fucking you from behind, bending you over, slipping his cock inside of you without even looking and then fucking you so hard that your ass shakes, loves the noises that it makes when his hips slam against the fat of your ass and how red your skin gets from how harsh his thrusts are into you, cannot get enough of the sight of your ass jiggling every time he bottoms out inside of you
♡ can make himself come just by rubbing his cock between your fat lips, gets so fucking turned on watching his length slide against your pussy, swallowed by your puffy lips, so fucking sloppy, places his hand on top of his cock to force it between your folds, fucks against his palm and the mess you've made, and then comes all over your cute cunt and your stomach
♡ cannot get enough of the weight of you on his hips while you ride him, every time you slam back down onto his cock and the backs of your thighs slap against his hips, you can feel him twitch inside of you, fucking loves the feeling of you letting yourself fall back onto him, the tiny breaths that come out of you when you feel him so deep inside of you, the beads of sweat that form on his stomach when he lifts his hips up with you seated in his lap
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freedvmrouge · 8 months
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Yara Flor ⁕ Wonder Girl (2021)
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grimesgirll · 7 days
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alexandria is the break you've been yearning for since shit hit the fan.
an independent walled and gated community is exactly the place to catch your breath. the past eighteen months had been a blur of grit and gore; you deserve to decompress in a pretty house, not that you spent all of your time in your new settlement inside. you made a point to take judith on daily walks.
you're returning from one of your new routine walks to get judith down for her afternoon nap when you find olivia - the neighbor lady who ran the armory and the pantry - on the porch, greeting your name.
“hi,” you reply with a smile, bolstering the cooing baby on your hip. “what do i owe you the pleasure, olivia?”
“i’ve been meaning to get over here ever since shane brought it up to me-,” you pause. “-i wouldn’t mind having another set of hands around the armory at all, especially with the background shane mentioned you had.”
you purse your lips. “thanks. could we talk about this another time? maybe after the weekend? i’ll stop by.” you gesture to the little girl on your hip. “it’s just that i want to get her down now so her routine isn’t all out of whack later tonight.”
olivia nods, glasses bouncing a bit. “of course. come see me whenever you’re ready.”
you’re smiling and thanking her again before crossing the threshold with a huffy chest. it takes patience on your part not to slam the door but with judith in your arms, you slowly close it.
why would shane sign you up to work in the armory? is he stupid? you ponder. he didn’t even ask if you wanted to do something like that. you dismiss the thought the best you can and just focus on getting judith to sleep.
thank god for the blackout curtains jessie had sent over. judith sleeps like the dead with those things drawn.
a little rocking and the dark room do well to help the infant fall asleep in no time. that allows you to meander down the living room and hear the door swinging open.
"babe, we're back.”
you perk your head up when you see shane and rick come through the door. “hey, guys,” you forget to ask them how their day’s been when you see their new uniforms.
you have to pick up your jaw when you see the two men dressed in matching constable’s uniforms. you and shane hadn’t been dating for long when the world went to shit. he’d met you right after work before, even picked you up in the cruiser before but you forgot how strapping he looked in a uniform. brown and form fitting, you’re thanking the constable’s office inventory for stocking such flattering apparel.
you almost forget the frustration you’re harboring - the anger that had boiled, all because of how his ass looked in those brown fucking slacks.
“good to see you,” rick says with the same tone he had back on the side of the road when he helped you step back into your underwear.
“good to see you too,” you repeat, biting your lip.
a smirk appears on shane’s lips once he realizes you’re checking out their asses as you take their coats.
"why don't you head upstairs? we'll be up in a few minutes."
you nearly drop the jackets from your arms. “for what?” you ask, playing dumb.
rick is wordless and shane just smiles at you, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “you’ll see. we’ll see you soon enough.”
the bedroom is your next destination.
you’re tiptoeing up the stairs as not to disrupt nap time. those light treading feet are carrying you straight to the bed where you crumple into the comforter.
long was your day, longer would be your night. this is by virtue of the fact that you’ll have to ask shane about why olivia was about to onboard you to work in alexandria’s armory. and you’ll probably get split in half by an eight inch cock by the end of the night. you decide to put off your conversation with shane when your mind wanders to the newly clean shaven constable downstairs.
god, did he fit those pants wonderfully.
the man had been on your mind ever since this situationship of sorts emerged between the three of you - sans labels. awkward as it seemed, given all of your histories.
and then there’s shane.
don’t get you wrong, shane would give you the world if he could. whatever it would take to keep you nice and happy and purring “yes, shane” at his every word. he goes to greater lengths not just for your safety but for your convenience.
the man who’d circled back on a run after realizing he didn’t bring back your favorite brand of tampons. then again when the tampons be found had cardboard applicators. the one who held you at night in your shared cell back at the prison, kissed you and petted your hair, nuzzling as close as possible and telling you it would be alright. the man who trusted you to take care of his baby girl.
the one who had taken the time to give you not one but multiple masterclasses on firearms, shooting, and gun maintenance. he insisted that you know how to take care of yourself if it ever came down to and it boy, had it come down to it. more than once, you’d found yourself aiming your pistol and being forced to make a split second decision. the same man embraced you and reassured you in the aftermath of your beretta’s rounds claiming your first non-walker kill.
the man who’s about to fuck you into the mattress with his best friend.
you try to hold onto that thought as you shimmy out of the blue levi’s, deserting them on the floor thoughtlessly in search something cozier. digging through shane’s newly filled dresser drawers seems like an easy enough solution.
speak of the devil, he walks in with rick while you’re appraising a pair of gray sweatpants with a georgetown insignia on them.
“thought you had your own sweats.” shane’s behind you in an instant. just like rick, he’d noticed the way your sweatshirt falls to your thighs. “why don’t you just save those for later and let me help you take the rest off, huh?”
a telltale smirk takes over your face. a slant back into shane tells him all he needs to know.
he waits to toss you over his shoulder and situate you on the bed before he's yanking your boy briefs down your legs and brushing your clit with his fat finger. it's only natural that he's chuckling into your skin when you tense beneath him. prodding and playing with your newly awakened nerves, shane still managed to signal rick over to begin a maddening campaign, attacking your flush skin with their lips.
the lips on your that skin feel so deliciously inviting that you disregard how tender they turn you.
of course, shane is the one that can’t stand to wait.
“down you go, pretty girl.”
in an instant, he’s behind you with a finger in your pussy. you want to be upset that he's not still paying attention to the blushed out surface of your body but you’re too preoccupied with the hand in between your shoulder blades, encouraging your forearms down to the mattress. shane’s maintaining his grip on your hips and propping them up to send your ass straight towards the ceiling.
the moment that you feel a warm tongue, licking painfully slowly, and thoroughly towards your center, your hips jerk. shane is already bracing them, cooing, “easy, girl,” into your thigh before continuing the languid assault on your lips.
the lips on your face are pecked, if only briefly, by your boyfriend’s former crimefighting partner. licking your lips, you’re wishing he would circle back to connect your mouths again when a sharp sting interrupts your thoughts.
“fuck!” you cry into the comforter.
the obvious culprit is already testing the skin of your ass with his palm again. another yelp has blue eyes boring down, as if trying to memorize each moment you react - so expressively - to shane’s ministrations.
“what was that for?” you question, rotating your head to stealth a glance at him.
“fun.”
you’re about to tell shane about his idea of fun before a final slap and a sudden return to teasing your core spurs you away from the thought. pressure and heat course through you; shane just raises your internal temperature with a purposeful finger. you're whimpering at just the first stretch. past your throbbing rings of muscle, shane weaves a path with a single finger.
a heaved out moan has shane licking his lips. “gettin’ worked up off my fingers, baby?”
you nod. without a doubt.
another finger continues the mission of prying your tight cunt open for the men that would be taking turns with you until you’d come all over both their cocks. knuckle deep inside of you, the pressure is going to kill you before that third finger does.
“shane,” you’re hissing when he adopts a pace that has you clawing at his two fingers. “why are you being so aggressive with your fingers?”
“weren’t you complainin’ that it was ‘too much,’” he denotes with air quotes, “last time?”
rick seems to give you some breathing room at his friend’s taunt. he slinks back like his massive cock wasn’t the reason you’d been a sobbing mess in cowgirl on top of him the night before your group had reached noah’s old community in richmond.
you’d come so pornographically hard around him that you swear it’d been in your top five orgasms. but your cervix was still shot.
rick felt guilty. so guilty that he hasn’t fucked you since. only your mouth. of course he treated you to his mouth, his perfect tongue and his hands but you crave him inside of you. the thought of it with shane’s two pronged touch has you nearly grinding up the bed.
“fuck, shane,” you’re mumbling into the comforter, fists clenching when another finger worms into you.
“you ‘bout ready, baby?” shane asks, placing a strategic stripe down your clit as he fully buries his middle three fingers in you.
“mhmm.”
“wanna ask?”
a steady sentence isn’t going to come out of your mouth with how shane’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “please,” you sputter when he entrenches his fingers deeper inside of you.
“what was that?” the condescension in his voice has you squelching around his fast moving fingers.
you’re blushing at rick who has a hand on his cock and is staring straight into your teary eyes. “i want you to fuck me now, shane.” you don’t break eye contact with rick. “please.”
another smack lands on your reddening backside and suddenly those pleasure granting fingers are digging into your hip and you feel shane’s girth at your entrance.
“what do you want, baby?” shane asks. “you want me to fill you up?”
“yes, i want it so bad,” you’re begging through pouted lips.
rick doesn’t miss your doe eyes or how you moan shane’s name as he fulfills your fucked out request and fills you. even someone in the hallway can hear the wet sound from shane teasing your leaking cunt.
a few experimental strokes and shane is already balls deep. he didn’t heed the same new code of chivalry rick had adopted upon finding a hint of blood on the tip of his dick. that experience made you want to pull your hair out. stupid fucking cervix, you’d thought, ruining me getting fucked. rick didn’t usually treat you to such a pounding but the road did that to one. besides, he was freshly addicted to your cunt.
the electric feeling from how he’d taken you with shane that first time reignite as your boyfriend adjusts himself to brush against your g-spot. the fucked out look on your face can’t be missed as you let shane shovel his hips into you and closer to the only finish line you’d ever had no problem crossing. just like rick had plowed you into the mattress of the barracks you’d all stayed at in norfolk.
these thoughts of rick can’t escape you - even with shane groaning your name. the swats to your ass just go straight to your cunt and do little to rouse you from your daydreaming about the man lining himself up with your mouth.
yeah, you’re out of your mind already and he doesn’t even have his dick inside of you again.
“so good for me, baby,” shane’s gasping, his hand sliding down your ass to brace your thigh and fuck you deeper. “so good for us.”
rick nods, fingers pushing your hair out of your face and letting you take your time with him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and rock forward with shane when he cants into you. he’s gazing down at you as if this is the prettiest he’s ever seen you.
you could keep your eyes on him forever if it weren’t for the orgasm searing through you. it’d built up as you backed into shane and imagined how full rick would have you feeling - how connected, how close you’d feel with him inside of you.
“should’ve knocked you up back at the farm.”
god, that would’ve been inconvenient. you just focus on the pleasure you’re receiving and how you’re in alexandria with two men amazingly attractive men. it’s not the time but then again, shane doesn’t give you much of a choice with how revved up this whole coming in you business seems to be getting him. you can’t lie; it’s affecting you too.
so much that you’re nearly protesting when rick withdraws his twitching cock from between your lush lips, less than when shane pulls out of you. you won’t be protesting about what comes next though.
the first time rick had fucked your pussy you’d been whining, and you’re doing the same thing now.
“you wanna get on top?” shane questions, requiring you to repeat yourself before rick leans against the headboard.
still snickering at the whine that came out of you, your boyfriend helps to lift you and lower your hips onto rick who’s sprawled on his back, bronzed curls against the propped up pillow. rick hisses when his tip makes contact with your drowning heat again.
shane doesn’t waste any time. his hands are off you so he can situate himself on the bed to accommodate the best view of you two.
unfortunately, you’re not in shane’s lap so rick has him beat for the best seat in the house. or do you hold that seat?
your boyfriend hadn’t seemed too worried about you sliding too far down onto rick but rick was. his hands are firm on your hips - holding them in a semi-permanent place, only maneuvering for you as you rotate your hips down onto him.
“rick,” you rasp, wrapping your arms around his neck. you want to hear more from him so badly - to hear him panting your name. that’s your goal when you hurry your hips against him. you can tell that he’s hesitating, holding you back at first until you wiggle enough for him to allow you to break free.
grinding onto him, you watch a puffed out series of breaths escape his mouth. not missing a beat, you reposition your hips to sink deeper, hissing with rick and leaning into him. that’s when your clit begins to explode with pleasure from the friction.
“fuck,” you’re chanting. “fuck, that’s good. feels so good. fuck. fuck, that’s perfect.”
“dirty girl.” shane is teasing.
“just feels so fuckin’ good,” you’re twisting on top of rick, angling yourself against his pulsing member to stimulate all the perfect parts of your pelvis.
“is rick fucking you good, honey?”
you nod, having been given full license to be honest about how rick is making you gush.
“how good?” shane asks, hazel eyes on you while you ride rick.
your lip quivers. you feel rick thrum inside of you. “soooo good.” you’re saying in the lust addled way only you would. “you both make me feel so on.”
shane’s cock jumps and rick is picking up the pace. whatever motion your clit’s endured against rick is nothing once he crescents his fingertips into your sides. nice and deep, rick is threatening your cervix again but you don’t need to worry because he’s just taking the scenic route to your g-spot.
the same spot that’s making your toes curl and you chant for rick. “i’m close again,” you warn him. your head is falling onto his shoulder, blocking shane from view.
“you’ve got it, almost there, sweetheart,” rick rumbles into your ear.
his now gravelly voice against your ear has your cunt tightening. teeth pressed into your shoulder, you yelp and moan when rick brushes the flesh of your skin with his teeth. the purple marks being sown onto you will bloom later on but you don’t mind. not when your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering, “god, rick, you make me feel so fucking good.”
and suddenly you’re being fucked through your orgasm face down.
“so jessie cut your hair?”
rick nods and you’re hyper aware of how short his hair is. he’s so polished too. not that it’s terribly difficult to be after traveling on the road for so long.
“i liked your long hair. you should grow it out again.”
the new constable raises an eyebrow, leaning up on his forearms to sit up. “gotta’ shape up at some point.”
you would argue but shane’s distracting you with kisses to your shoulders and promises of morning sex already. you’re not distracted enough to miss rick’s weight absent from the pliable surface.
rick rises from the bed and you whine.
“i want rick to stay.”
shane scoffs. he extends his brawny arms across the bed. “baby, there’s barely enough room in the bed for the two of us.”
you shake your head, sitting up on your knees. “i think we can make it work. please,” you take a breath. “i just feel safer with you two in bed.”
“honey, there’s no room.”
“okay, i’ll just sleep on top of him then.”
you end up basically on top of rick - not that he minds. the night is spent with cuddled up into his chest; shane cupping the occasional hand around the curve of your ass.
weirdly, you’re falling asleep in no time. the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulls you. sleeping on top of rick might have to become a part of your bedtime routine.
shane wants you to pull a hostile takeover of the armory.
you stand with your arms crossed, giving the man one of your signature frowns. "why would i want to keep an eye on olivia in the armory?"
shane looks at you as if it's obvious. "it's good to have a hand on things," he explains, sighing your name. "it's good to have someone on the inside, in case..."
"-in case what?" you question.
shane stares at his feet.
you smolder. "you seriously can't be expecting to have to seize their guns, shane. we just got here for christ's sake."
"it's not even like that, baby," shane says, trying to walk back his conspiracy plots from you. “i just would feel better having you there. besides, it’s not like it’d be all the time and you could learn more about gun storage, whatever you want now
“that doesn’t sound like whatever i want, it sounds like you’re shoving me in the armory.”
“baby, you don’t have to do anything, i’m just sayin’-,”
“i’ll work in the armory if you stop giving me shit about going hunting.”
shane frowns af you. “now, you know that’s different.”
you cross your arms. “it’s not. i need a change of scenery, maybe some greenery to be specific.”
shane presses a flexed hand against the wainscoting he’s leaned up against. he shakes his head. “maybe once we know things are stable here, but for right now these people are far less capable than we are. i’d feel better with you in the armory.”
you want to ask him to consider what you want for a change. you honestly want to tell him to go fuck himself but then you remember.
ah, the thing that you want. the man that you want. the man you can only have with shane’s smirking approval.
so you just smile, walk over and take him by surprise, planting a kiss on cheek and telling him you’ll start tomorrow. it’ll all pay off in the long run.
the welcome party is a success.
if not for the fact that shane didn’t kill spencer just for saying hello to you, then for the fact that you got trashed.
so trashed that rick had ended up hauling your ass home when you hurled in one of deanna’s planters and shane was too embroiled in a push-up contest with abraham to even think about heading home. not that shane had ended up any better. the man drank so much johnny walker that even he came home and passed out face first in the bed bedside you.
you’re hungover the next morning, so hungover that rick moved you out of shane’s bed and into his to hang off the edge and puke your guts up.
rick even roped carol into coming over to cook and watch judith while you and shane recovered.
he even brings you soup.
“damn, look who’s still out of it.”
seems shane had recovered.
“she drinks like she’s still in kappa delta.”
rick rubs a circle or two into your back. “what’d you say? you won’t puke all over your bed, will ya’?”
when you’re well enough, you patter downstairs
“you’re looking better.”
“thanks, carol,” you return her jab with a wry smile.
“so,” the gray haired woman braces her hands on the picnic table at the base of the orchard. “are you going to help me with these apricots are what?” your gaze falls from the woman to her basket and circles back to the trees overhead. “the apricots came in early here. what do you think of apricots in march?”
you shrug. “i really don’t know much about fruits,” you admit as you take the chestnut colored basket into your hand.
it’s so odd seeing carol in her little pseudo-mr. rogers act, costume and all. the cardigan and capris paint a picture of the picture homemaker - a real martha stewart type.
and one of the most tactful, five steps ahead of you types that you’d ever met.
you wonder if this carol had laid dormant for some years.
the two of you work through the trees, plucking the precious fruit that was ready for harvest and leaving the rest.
“so, you having fun playing house?”
your mouth gapes open. you nearly drop your basket and waste quite a lot of apricots.
carol snorts at you. “i’m just kidding.” she sends you a look like you’re incredulous or something. “do what you want.” you pluck an apricot from the tree before you. gossamer head tilting when your apricot picking partner speaks again. “but just keep your priorities straight.”
you stiffen. that’s not what you were expecting. maybe some more sage or cunning advice is what you thought would be coming out of her mouth. priorities? you don’t wanna think about them. the priorities that you’ve been saddled with.
you moan someone about your hangover and muddle through the rest of your apricot picking, trying to keep your mind from defining your priorities.
the two of you part when at the sidewalk in front of your porch, with her last words to you being:
“you be careful.”
“gonna have to go out and find a king sized bed if rick’s gonna be stayin’ over this often.” shane comments and rolls onto his side to face you.
you shrug. “i’m fine with the arrangement the way it is.”
“yeah? sleeping on top of rick?”
you continue brushing your hair. “beds are hard to come by, especially great gigantic sized beds.”
“i’m sure there’s a king somewhere.”
“yeah.”
shane’s eyes don’t leave you as you set your hairbrush down on the vanity and tie it back. he’s even closer once you settle into your spot on the mattress. arms clutch you into him and lazy patterns begin to materialize on your skin, from massages into the nap of your neck to a dull squeeze of your ass. it makes you feel easy - subdued almost by shane’s unhurried touch. but you’re still wound up. you don’t know how you can be anything else nowadays.
"night, baby," shane mumbles into your ear.
"night." you reply, eyes focused on the single beam of moonlight tumbling through the window.
with rick down the hall, you won’t be sleeping tonight.
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kuoro · 1 month
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— I think it would be cool to let the team’s captain take the spotlight and look cool every once in a while.
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wonderoustime · 8 months
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oikawa's love language is words.
by that, i don't mean just words of affirmation, adoration, or the like. sure, he's incredibly vocal about his love for you, calling you by the most annoying yet tooth-rottingly sweet nicknames (like sugarplum, honeybun, cupcake, snickerdoodle cookie, pumpkin, shortcake.... i'm sensing a pattern here...) just to — with a completely straight face — tell you how much he adores you and how absolutely perfect you look and how lucky he is to have you in the most embarrassingly adorable way possible (it always leaves you burning red hot in the end and infuriated by his stupid little handsome face not even being affected)
by that, i mean just talking to you in general. he's always put up a front for everyone else so that they can't see how he really feels or get any sense of his real thoughts. but when he's with you, all his walls fall down and leave him bare to your soul. complete authenticity fills every word that leaves his mouth because he knows he can trust you with his life and he knows that you will still care for him regardless of him being "perfect". the moments he talks to you are the moments he feels the most sincere love for you for accepting him as is and allowing him to feel freer than ever. he'd tell you about the mundane details of his day — how heavy the traffic was, the little kid who accidentally hit her own head with her slinky spring, the stupid things he overheard a group of teens talk about — just so he has another reason to speak to you.
inspired by a tumblr post my friend sent me a pic of.
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