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joshfuckingkiszka · 5 months ago

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『two: uncovered』

so sorry about the delay tbh I thought I posted this my bad yall mwah - ALSO I've made a playlist on Spotify (APPLE MUSIC SUPREMACY) for this series as well as sthh and end up here and will be making more (ignore the order of the songs from 7 and up because I'm still putting them in order)

THIS SERIES IS 18+ MINORS DNI

chapter warnings: ANGST, idiots in love, alcohol

from the playlist: gold rush - taylor swift / i hate myself for loving you - joan jett and the blackhearts

series masterlist

✮

It was hard to sleep, now that you knew what Josh’s mouth felt like. He still tasted like the numerous Salty Dogs he’d consumed at the bar, the recent hit of a fruity vape still on his lips. You tossed and turned in your bed, panicking about the next morning. He wouldn’t remember, he was too drunk.

When the sun rose, you were already awake. Well, with barely two hours under your belt - and that’s being generous. The coffee you made burnt your tongue, but the frugality you’d possessed since high school made it hard to justify paying for caffeine.

Josh didn’t wake for another three hours, which was a lot of time to think. Overthink. When he did, he made a quip about the cold coffee and the sweatshirt you wore. It was his, just like the shirt underneath it, stolen during a camping trip from sophomore year of college.

This was supposed to have been a girls’ trip. You, Ronnie, and the two other girls who completed the four person dorm suite: Kehlani and Olive.

Kehlani was confident and damn persistent, and it had scared you a little at first, but nothing in your suite ever went unfixed by maintenance. Her olive skin tone only got darker and glowier the longer she spent outside, and she did that quite a bit. The balcony was accustomed with the prettiest flowers you had ever seen, thanks to her and her green thumb. Fittingly, she was a Botany Major, who spent long hours at the library and ever longer ones at local greenhouses.

Olive was quiet, but even an idiot could see the crush she had on Jake. You learned - in bits and pieces - that she was an incredible artist, who had mastered realism, in your opinion. She was a psychology major, with hopes to go to medical school and become a psychologist. When the semester first started, she never spent more than five minutes outside of her room. Two months in, and it was like the four of you had always known each other.

Back to the facts. Girls trip. Supposed to be.

“Where exactly can we get alcohol where they won’t I.D. us?” Ronnie asked, her head on the armrest of the couch, feet in your lap.

“Well,” Kehlani started, “I would say that place on Fifth, but they got busted last week. Lost their license. Truly sad.”

“College town, Ron, we’re not getting anything without a fake,” you told her. She rolled her eyes, she knew you were right.

Olive piped up, “Ronnie, what about your brother? One of the twins? They’re 21.” Everyone knew she meant Jake.

“Jake wouldn’t get us anything without a hefty price.” The Kiszka girl huffed.

You contemplated. “Josh would do it for free.”

“Yeah for you.” She poked your ribs, and you giggled. “But the second he finds out it’s for me too, he’ll back out.”

“What if we invited them?” Kehlani suggested, and Olive’s eyes lit up. You’re not sure yours didn’t do the same.

Ronnie groaned and protested for three days.

“What if this is an alcohol free trip?” She attempted to pawn this idea.

“The beginning of summer. At a lake house. Without alcohol. Do you hear how insane you sound right now, Veronica?” Kehlani’s hands were firmly gripping the brunette’s shoulders and her eyes bore deep and seriously into Ronnie’s.

She rolled her eyes. “Inviting them will ruin the sanctity of a girl’s trip!” No one bought it.

“Ronnie’s inviting you on our girl’s trip.” Josh’s hands stilled in your hair for only a second, his attention finally deviating from the Kubrick film.

He scoffed. “What’s the catch?” Josh always was much smarter than he let on.

“Alcohol. Purchasing. For the group.”

His eyes met yours. “Let me guess, she told you to butter me up tonight.” His tone was playful, but you knew he was being serious.

“No,” you rolled your eyes, grinning, “I’m not even supposed to be telling you. It’s supposed to be a ‘random act of kindness by your sweet little sister’.”

The two of you laughed.

“Well, I’m not going without my other half.”

“Oh, don’t worry I’ll be there.” He laughed and tickled your sides.

“Jake won’t be happy I’m being invited.”

“Who do you think she’s asking on the trip right now?”

Finally, his fingers were back in your hair and both sets of eyes on the screen. The movie didn’t have your attention anymore, though.

“I take it the bar was fun last night,” you quipped.

His brows raised in agreement, “I would say I’m never drinking again, but we both know that’s a lie.”

Josh was quiet for a moment, “I didn’t…say anything weird did I?”

You thought back to his lips on yours.

“No more than usual.”

“Good.”

He was holding something back. Was he worried he spilled something he shouldn’t have? A band announcement? A girl? Your breath caught in your throat for a second and you passed it off as a cough.

“What would you have said?”

He shrugged, but he knew.

“I’ve got a surprise for you tonight,” he mentioned casually.

On a call a few weeks ago, Josh had practically begged you to come out with him and the guys tonight. You agreed, because you missed them, and because going out just wasn’t the same without them.

“Should I be concerned?” You elbowed him gently. Asking was stupid, because you already were.

“I’m not sure,” he said earnestly, “I don’t think so. But the guys - nevermind.”

Now you were really concerned. You left, making up some excuse about getting ready (even though it was about five hours until the guys would be over).

Whatever he was telling you tonight, gave you a bad gut feeling. You sincerely hoped you were wrong. Regardless, you trudged through getting ready. You took a long “everything” shower - as you’d heard it regarded on Tiktok (Josh made fun of you for watching them, but you would always catch him quoting ones he thought were funny). You were on autopilot as you did your makeup, it was what you had seen as the “rockstar girlfriend” look - ironic, huh?

A black mini skirt was layered with tights donning little hearts and a lacy black bra could be seen under a mesh long-sleeved crop top. Black leather boots that came up to your knees was your shoe of choice for the evening, and you knew that anyone else would mistake you for a groupie. Not Josh. Never Josh. To him you would always be his Little Red.

Once your hair was done - even if that one piece kept falling in your face - you gave yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked hot. It had never mattered to you what a man thought so why, all of a sudden, did you care so much about what Josh had to say about your outfit?

You thought back to Tara, had she been right? Were you falling in love with Josh? Or had those feelings always been there.

“I swear to god, one more Shakespeare play and I’m-”

“If you do it, I do it. I’m serious, too.”

Ronnie had needed an extra elective because of an error her advisor had made, and you needed a class to fill a time slot you didn’t want empty. Romeo and Juliet had been so good your freshman year, so what harm would a Shakespearean Literature class be? Incredibly harmful. Analyses piled on top of the other and you could barely keep up with what you were supposed to be reading. Ronnie wasn’t having any better luck, so cheating wasn’t even an option.

Homework should have been the last thing on your mind during Thanksgiving Break, but with the amount of practice Josh was having to do, the distraction seemed inviting. It wasn’t just practice, either, he and the guys had become serious about the band, performing gigs all around Michigan. You had banned them from ever coming back to the college, though, because of the attention Josh - and all of the boys - had received from the female audience. It was fine if you didn’t have to hear about it, right? Right, so no more University of Michigan gigs. Josh laughed, but he never even joked about coming back.

They had gained quite a bit of popularity, and the last you had heard from Josh, a few labels wanted to talk to them. You refused to hear updates from anyone but the oldest Kiszka, if for nothing more so that you could talk to him. His original love of the theater had been put on the backburner, replaced by Rock n’ Roll, leather pants, and a rat tail you weren’t sure if you loved or hated. Josh loved the music, though, he loved making Jake happy and he bathed in the attention he got from the audience.

“They’re not that different,” he explained, “The stage is different, but the crowd is all the same: they’re all there for a show.”

“And you give it to them?” You mused.

“Absolutely, mama.” There was also that. You assumed he had picked it up from Elvis or The Black Crowes or some other musical inspiration. He used it and your nickname interchangeably, at whim. His language, his looks, even his desires had changed. He was still your Josh though.

Your reading of Hamlet, or maybe Macbeth, was interrupted by screaming in the lower level of the Kiszka house. You and Ronnie gave confused looks to each other before dashing downstairs.

As soon as you were off the bottom step, Josh’s arms were around you and his face was buried in your neck as he spun you around. When he set you down, his eyes bore into yours. They were deep mahogany, and they reminded you of smooth satin with the golden flecks as ornate detailing.

“We have a record deal!” It felt like time stopped. You had hoped for this moment, but you also knew what it meant.

“That’s incredible, I’m so proud of you - all of you.” Nice save, by the way. You hugged him again, and you savored the smell of his cologne mixed with the faintest smell of the weed he’d smoked the night before. You could feel the tears, and Josh could too as they hit his shirt.

He grabbed your hand and walked you to the back porch. Everyone still celebrating in the living room barely noticed.

“What’s wrong, Little Red? Aren’t you happy?” He could read you like a book. His frown broke you a bit

“Yeah, I’m so happy for you.” You hated that you had made him feel like his accomplishment was a negative thing.

“But?” He pressed.

“You won’t forget me, right? Promise me you won’t forget me, Joshy.” Tears fell freely now and his arms wrapped tightly around you again.

“How could I ever forget you? I,” he hesitated, “I love you.”

In the moment, it made sense. He was comforting his best friend. Josh had always been so open with his feelings and affection that you had never really questioned that night. Now, as you sat on the floor in your bedroom, reeling from the very idea that you might be in love with him, you wondered. Could he have always been in love with you, too? Was this a two way street or were you about to crash and burn?

You felt dizzy, but you got up and walked to the living room where Josh sat on the couch, his hands clasped together and an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.

“Josh, I-”

“I have a girlfriend.”

〚taglist〛

gvf: @doodle417 @brokenbellz @gretavanfleas @pyrojoshy @greta-van-chaos @xserenax-13 @hayley1623 @kdarling1 @autumns30 @keighoe @chalametpwk @sammysvanfeet @shawnsthighs @gretavanbitches @sammiejane22 @gretavanbestie @jordierama @alexxavicry @spark-my-nature @rainy-darling @I-am-kaitlyn @musicspeaks

joshy: @prophetofthedune @loofypoofy @gretavangracee

this series: @arnoldperlsteinishot, @maedesculpaeusoubi

#josh kiszka #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiskza #josh gvf #jake gvf #sam kiszka gvf #danny wagner gvf #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka angst #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fluff

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sassyfrassboss · 1 year ago

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This thing is that Catherine actually seems to be the only one paying attention to the effects Harry and Meghan’s actions are having on the family and how the public perceives them.

>>It's the art historian in her. She pays attention to what the rest of them gloss over because she knows that it's the little things which end up mattering the most to historians. She thinks about things that others don't - like a color palette for her children's christenings to create harmonious portraits, or the diplomacy of fashion on her state visits - because those are the details that create the stories she wants told rather than the story that gets told for her.

Being this detail-oriented is also how Kate gets around never complain, never explain. Kate explains to us what she wants by the images and the vignettes she composes - in effect, she shows us what she wants, rather than telling us what she wants, and it's an incredibly effective tool in media and public perception.

Contrast that to Harry, Meghan, Charles, and Camilla: they always tell us what they want us to see, which is often the exact opposite of what we do see - for instance, Meghan bleats on about women supporting women but she attacks Kate at every chance she gets; Harry bleats on about mental health but he self-medicates with drugs and alcohol; Charles loves his darling mama but he's talking to the Scottish government about giving Balmoral back; Camilla doesn't want to be Queen but she's never smiled bigger than when she was crowned or announced her engagement. Because their actions contradict their words, they're not as effective in the public space.

I also suspect a lot of Kate's intuition on how to handle Harry and Meghan and the public's perception also comes from how the press and the public treated her during the dating years. You don't go through all that press harassment like she did for 8 years without learning some things about yourself, the people you love, and the people who hate you.

This is a very accurate assessment.

Catherine has learned that the attention to detail and perfectionism is an excellent way of getting her message across to the world.

Louis’s christening comes to mind like you said. You know damn well Meghan was to wear a shade of blue or white and she showed in that awful olive green. She has been challenging Catherine since day one for supremacy and she constantly loses.

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kingedmundsroyalmurder · 1 year ago

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It's been a Day already and it's all of noon, so have an excerpt, because I want validation and maybe some of you need a distraction, lol.

Really, Valancy owed it all to Will Desmond. Had he lived, Olive would have married him at 19, clad in satin and lace in a church festooned with white roses. Valancy would have watched from the pews, wearing her drab brown silk, seated between her mother and Cousin Stickles, secretly seething at the whole affair. There would have been no cause for Olive to go to Montreal or for Augusta Green to share her unfiltered opinions at an inopportune moment, and Valancy would have been stuck at home, clad in brown silk, between her mother and Cousin Stickles for the rest of her life.

But instead of marrying Olive in a beautiful ceremony, Will Desmond died young and left Olive behind. Olive cried crocodile tears for a year in public and real ones in the secrecy of her bedroom and kept her engagement ring on a chain around her neck where no one could see it. After eighteen months, she began casting a speculative eye over the eligible men of Deerwood. What she saw did not fill her with hope. Donald Jackson's roguish demeanor suited her tastes, but her parents disapproved violently. Elmer Price's fortune appeased her parents' worries, but he was nearing 35 and Olive felt strongly that she could do better. With no one both handsome enough for her and well connected enough for her mother available in Deerwood, and with only two months of mourning left, Olive hatched a plan.

She explained the whole thing to Valancy one rainy Saturday afternoon. Valancy had gone to Aunt and Uncle Wellington's for tea, to comfort Olive in her grief, and the two girls retreated hastily to Olive's bedroom until called down to eat.

"There's no hope for me here," Olive declared. "You know all the men in this town, just as well as I do. All the good ones are already taken, and the rest are worse than useless. I mean really, Doss, it's hopeless."

Valancy, whose romantic prospects had peaked when she refused to be kissed at fifteen, agreed that it was indeed hopeless.

"I could try Port Lawrence, but Augusta's looking there this summer and, just between us, there really aren't enough decent men for both of us to be looking at the same time."

Augusta Green was Olive's best friend. She was tall and opinionated, the kind of girl adults would have politely called "handsome," if her father were not the owner of the largest newspaper in Port Lawrence. This combination of future fortune and social supremacy did as much to improve Augusta's prospects as it did to sour her character, and she had long ago claimed the men of Port Lawrence as hers to comb through first. Valancy detested her intensely.

Olive was waiting expectantly, and Valancy realized she wanted prompting. "What will you do?" she asked obediently.

Olive dimpled charmingly. Valancy, long accustomed to her cousin's tricks, remained un charmed. "Just watch," Olive said. She turned towards her wardrobe, where an array of black, grey, and mauve dresses greeted her. "Tell me, do you prefer the purple or the grey?" She indicated two of the dresses for Valancy's consideration.

Valancy knew which of the two Olive preferred -- the dove grey silk was new, commissioned just this month to herald Olive's imminent return to society, while the lavender lawn was now two years old and had been dyed its current color last summer so that Olive could continue to wear it to family gatherings during her bereavement.

"The purple is nice," she said dutifully, so that Olive could enjoy the thrill of correcting her. In truth, the lavender brought out the pallor in Olive's skin, and made her look rather like a corpse unless she arranged herself in the sunlight just so.

"Oh, do you think so?" Olive asked, pretending to consider it. "I think the grey suits me much better."

Valancy allowed that the grey silk suited Olive well.

"But, of course, it hasn't yet been two years," Olive said. "I really cannot be seen in public in anything but blacks for at least another month. Can you imagine the scandal?"

Valancy could.

"Still, one can't live in the past forever. Poor Will wouldn't want me to wither away on his account. You know, when he was on his deathbed he told me not to mourn him at all? 'I want you to find your happiness,' he told me. Isn't that just the most considerate thing you've heard in your life?"

Valancy, who had listened to this anecdote monthly for the past sixteen months, agreed that it was.

"I think I shall bring the grey," Olive said decisively. "Thank you dear, you're always such a help when I can't make up my mind."

This statement required no reply, and so Valancy stayed silent.

***

Over the meal, Olive skillfully laid the groundwork for her plan. She spoke of the upcoming summer, and of how difficult she would find it, when she could go out again. After all, every inch of town reminded her of her poor dear Will. She bore the burden bravely, for Will had charged with his dying breath that she should not mourn him forever, but sometimes a peal of laughter would hit just as she was gazing upon his favorite corner and she felt ready to follow him into the grave all over again.

"I only wish," she declared wistfully, "that I could have a fresh start of it." And she lowered her eyes to her plate, blinking her long eyelashes as though staving off tears.

The effect was nearly perfect, except that Valancy caught her stealing a glance up at her parents, checking how her performance had been received.

She needn't have worried. Aunt and Uncle Wellington picked up the thread immediately. Aunt Wellington berated the gossips of Deerwood for not giving Olive so much as a single moment of peace during her mourning, Uncle Wellington opined that a change of scenery could cure all ills, and by the end of the meal they had nearly talked themselves into uprooting the entire household and moving to Port Lawrence. Olive was obliged to hastily talk them down from the ledge and suggest a less drastic measure. A summer away, perhaps.

"Don't you have a cousin in Montreal, Mother?" she asked, as though she had not spent the past two weeks meticulously combing through the family bible to find the most useful of her relatives for her scheme. "I was just thinking the other day that aside from Grandmother, I don't know your family at all. It's such a pity, to not live close to ones relations."

In that moment, Aunt Wellington quite forgot that she had spent most of her life cordially despising her relations, and she agreed wholeheartedly with Olive's words. "I shall write to Justine at once," she declared and Olive smiled smugly into her scone.

***

Bernie hadn't wanted to go.

Mrs. Baker was giving a party for her daughter's birthday, and all the right sort of Montreal had been invited. Bernie's invitation had arrived two weeks ago, hand delivered by a footman in livery who could barely hold back a snicker at Dr. Redfern's gold and marble entrance hall. Bernie had been out, roaming the trails of Boucherville's islands as he was increasingly prone to doing. It was the only place he really felt at peace these days, amidst the sugar maples and the birch trees, the dappled sunlight creating shadows between the roots that, if Bernie didn't think too hard, almost let him think he was lost in the woods somewhere, miles from any other people. He'd spent an especially long time on the island that day, watching a pair of kingfishers hunt, and his good mood had not entirely dissipated by the time he made it back home.

The gilded envelope waiting for him at the supper table fully ruined it.

"Will you go?" Dad asked, trying and failing to keep his eagerness from seeping into his voice. Poor Dad, Bernie thought, as he forced himself to set the ridiculous card down gently instead of hurling it into the fire. He really hasn't got any idea what it's like, being 22 and a laughing stock.

"No," Bernie said.

Dr. Redfern's face fell. "Really?" he asked. "But everyone's going to be there. All your friends -- all their sisters." This last was said with a wink that Bernie opted to ignore.

"I don't like parties," he said instead.

"No, I suppose you don't," Dad said, and he shook his head, mystified. "I don't know where you get it from, my boy. Not from me, eh? That's for sure."

Bernie didn't reply, and Dad sighed. "Well, you'll do as you want," he said. "You always do. Just do your old dad a favor and find something to make yourself happy once in a while. I don't think I've seen you smile once since you got home from school."

In response, Bernie pulled a horrible face and sent his father into gales of laughter. "Ah, that's my Bernie," Dr. Redfern gasped when he could breathe again. "Don't change a thing you don't want to, son, no matter how much I nag at you. You know I don't mean it."

"I know," Bernie said. "How was your day?"

Dr. Redfern launched into a characterful accounting of his day, leaving Bernie free to think peacefully. He had long ago mastered the art of nodding his way absently through his father's monologues, and he did so on automatic now, firmly not looking at the invitation sitting on the table next to him.

Maybe Dad was right. He'd been home for a couple months now, and much as he loved roaming the islands on his own, maybe it wasn't the way to live. Maybe… maybe it would be different this time. Ten years ago, Dr. Redfern had been a new arrival, a novelty for schoolchildren to mock. But maybe they'd gotten bored by now, or realized that Dr. Redfern was around to stay and not just some passing charlatan. And Mrs. Baker's party wouldn't be filled with people blinded by the thought of money. All her friends were old money, the ruling set of Montreal, the one his dad dreamed of one day gaining admission to. They wouldn't try to impress him just to get at Dr. Redfern's inheritance.

Maybe he would go. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"What's that?" He realized a beat too late that Dad had fallen silent, clearly expecting an answer to a question Bernie hadn't heard.

"I asked what you've been up to since getting back," Dr. Redfern repeated amiably. He was never offended when Bernie lost track of a conversation.

"I went out to the Isles de Boucherville," Bernie said, surprising both of them by not deflecting the question. "I saw some kingfishers today."

"Really?" Dad asked. "You'll have to bring me out with you one of these days. I could use a change of air from the old laboratory."

Bernie thought about trying to get his father to stay still and silent long enough to coax the wildlife out and just barely managed to suppress the resulting wince. "Sure," he said, in that way that they both knew meant 'no.' "One of these days."

***

So Bernie sent his RSVP to the Baker house with Henry the next morning, and now here he was, dressed up in an expensive suit, hair combed and oiled until he gleamed in the lamplight, feeling utterly out of place and ridiculous. Why had he let Dad talk him into doing this? He knew he didn't like parties, and he certainly didn't like parties filled with Mrs. Baker's set. Magnolia Baker, the guest of honor, had barely kept from smirking as she greeted him at the door and thanked him for coming, and he knew from that moment that he'd been wrong. Redfern hadn't become a more respectable name, not any more than when Bernie was eleven years old.

But he was here, and he couldn't leave for at least an hour without causing offense. Bernie didn't much care about that, but it would upset Dad, and old Dr. Redfern didn't deserve that. So Bernie stayed, holding a glass as an excuse to refuse invitations to dance, planning his escape.

Just as he'd identified the most unobtrusive path to the door, the most beautiful woman in the world walked in.

She had rich, golden-brown hair, curled and dressed elaborately. A wave dipped down over her forehead, drawing attention to large, sparkling blue eyes framed with elegant lashes. She wore a silvery grey gown with three quarter sleeves; a sash of shining silk emphasized her figure, and the high collar was made of cobweb lace, letting glimpses of her neck and shoulders through as she moved. She greeted Magnolia Baker with a brilliant smile, and handed her coat off to a footman with graceful insouciance.

All thoughts of escaping the party had vanished. Bernie watched as Magnolia Baker put a hand on the woman's arm, murmuring something to her. The woman cast an eye around the party, and he saw an unmistakable spark of intelligence in her gaze, covered up immediately by a laugh as a man came to join them. Bernie hated him. He hated all of them. They were all dullards and bores, sons of fortune who'd never worked a day in their lives and couldn't hold an intelligent conversation if you put a gun to their temple.

He must find a way to speak with her.

He set his half full glass down on the nearest surface. Magnolia Baker was talking with the woman again, and he knew he did not have much time. If he could just reach them before Magnolia told her who he was, he might have half a chance.

Magnolia spotted him approaching. With a smile that looked only a little painted on, she waved him over. "Bernie!" she said brightly, for all the world as though they were the best of friends. "I was just about to come find you. You must meet Olive." She gestured at the apparition beside her, who bestowed a dazzling smile upon Bernie. His heart beat so fast in his chest he thought it must be visible through his jacket. "Olive, this is Mr. Bernard Redfern. He's been away at school, and only just come home again. Bernie, may I present my friend, Miss Olive Stirling." Magnolia lowered her voice, as though sharing a confidence. "Olive has only just returned to society, after her fiancé passed on two years ago."

"I am sorry for your loss, Miss Stirling," Bernie heard himself say. "But it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Miss Stirling offered him a pale, elegant hand. When he took it, her grip was cool and soft. She gave him another smile, this one somehow softer but just as dazzling, as though she were smiling specifically at him. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Redfern," she said.

"May I have this dance?" Bernie asked.

"It would be an honor," Miss Stirling said. She had yet to release Bernie's hand. He led her onto the dance floor, where the couples shifted minutely to make room. He was distantly conscious of the jealous looks being thrown his way by every other man in the room, but he had eyes only for Miss Stirling. They took their place on the floor for the next dance, and everything else melted away. The Baker house could have burned down around them, and Bernie wouldn't have been able to tear his attention away from Miss Stirling. It was the happiest he had been in his entire life. If he dropped dead at the end of the dance, it would be with a smile.

#Moonlight and mistawis #The short unfortunate courtship of olive stirling and bernard redfern

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caspianxth · 5 months ago

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I was tagged by @myladyofmercy to do 10 gifs of my favorite tv shows and my 10 favorite movies, so this is the tv part!!

tv:

titans (that's donna troy, loml)

2. shadow and bone!!! (below is kaz brekker)

3. 911 (below is evan 'buck' buckley and christopher diaz)

4. the artful dodger (het ship of all time!!!! lady belle fox and jack dawkins)

5. vikings valhalla (leif eriksson and harald sigurdsson)

6. the last kingdom (uhtred, finan, and sihtric my beloveds osferth isn't in the gif but he is included in the beloveds)

7. young royals (simon and prince wilhelm)

8. smallville (justin hartley oliver queen supremacy!!!!! we'll literally Never have a green arrow as good as him and yes, I watched arrow! but he was saur much better!!!!!!!!!)

9. young justice (wally west I will never forgive them for what they did to u)

10. the punisher (billy russo)

I will tag anyone who wants to do it most of the jops don't really use tumblr but if u see this and ur interested feel free to do it!!!!

#bee!!#ty for the tag!!#I didn't think I'd have 10 but I did wow #tagged #about me

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zozo-333 · 1 year ago

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Alien AU scenario

I have too many free time so I write more stuff for this

TW: gun

(Energy is energy 1)

Scott: *eat dirt*

Courtney: Ew you're weird

Also Courtney: *Process to chuck down whole bottle of olive oil*

(Energy is energy 2)

Chef: *walk into the kitchen*

Chris: *Aggressively eating raw potatoes*

Chef: *leave kitchen*

(Energy is energy 3)

Alejandro: I'm very concerned about you guys eating habits

Tyler with meats stuffed in his mouth: What?

Izzy drinking raw eggs from the mug: Huh?

Owen being Owen: What's wrong with how we eat?

Noah chewing a butter bar: Everyone have different preferences, get over it

(Telepathy required physical touch, slightly Gwortney)

Courtney: Alejandro is going to be a problem

Gwen: Yeah, we have to get him out as soon as possible

Courtney: But now, we lay low, don't be suspicious…

Gwen: He won't know a thing…

Alejandro: Why are they staring at me with arms linking?

(Don't worry she's fine)

Sierra in confessional: I know everything about everyone here, except for some reason I cannot find anything of them before four, Or what's Chris doing before working in the industry. But as a honor Total Drama number one fan, I will do ANYTHING I can to dig up everything about them

Chris watching the monitor: Yeah maybe we make this show a little bit too famous

DJ: What do we do?

Lindsay: I don't know, mind control gun?

Noah: Nah, we need the local tool for this(pull out a pistol)

(Green Jello)

Courtney: How can you guys eat this? It looks just like that jerk commander who banished us

Leshawna: I'm hundred percent agree with you girl, that's why everytime I see this thing I want to do this

Leshawna: *Smashed the jello with full force* THAT'S FOR DITCHING US IN ANOTHER GALAXY YOU FUCKER——

(Act for the show)

Harold: This is the battery replica for the mind control gun, the efficacy is low but it's the safest sample I have so far

Duncan: Thanks dude, you're a life saver. You have no idea how many times I have to—

Geoff: Intern coming!

Duncan: Shit *Shove all the equipment under the bed and grabbed Harold by the collar* Hey loser…I'll punch you!

Harold: (whispering) That's the best you can do?

Duncan: (whispering) Just act scare!

(Somepoint in AS)

Mal: *Sneak into Duncan's room to sabotage*

Duncan: *Sleeping with him arm turn into a machete*

Mal: *Quickly sneak out the room*

(Long hair supremacy)

Heather: Want to see something cool?

Cody: What?

Heather: *Move her hair like an octopus legs and picked Cody up with it*

Cody: Wow this is awesome!

(Childhood memories…kind of)

Chris: Just curious, what's the closest time of you guys from getting exposed

Harold: Everytime when I have medical examination

Tyler: Hit by the truck and forget to act injured

Gwen: Change my hair colour in front of my nana, good thing my mind control gun still have power left

Heather: The little boy in the house break into my room while I'm playing with my hair

Cody: Shouting "Hi homos!" at first day of daycare cause I thought homo is short for 'homosapien'

#td alien au #total drama

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blackspiritshake · 1 year ago

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September Book Pile

In It’s Always Been Ours eating disorder specialist and storyteller Jessica Wilson challenges us to rethink what having a "good" body means in contemporary society. By centering the bodies of Black women in her cultural discussions of body image, food, health, and wellness, Wilson argues that we can interrogate white supremacy’s hold on us and reimagine the ways we think about, discuss, and tend to our bodies.

A narrative that spans the year of racial reckoning (that wasn't), It’s Always Been Ours is an incisive blend of historical documents, contemporary writing, and narratives of clients, friends, and celebrities that examines the politics of body liberation. Wilson argues that our culture’s fixation on thin, white women reinscribes racist ideas about Black women's bodies and ways of being in the world as "too much." For Wilson, this white supremacist, capitalist undergirding in wellness movements perpetuates a culture of respectability and restriction that force Black women to perform unhealthy forms of resilience and strength at the expense of their physical and psychological needs.

With just the right mix of wit, levity, and wisdom, Wilson shows us how a radical reimagining of body narratives is a prerequisite to well-being. It’s Always Been Ours is a love letter that celebrates Black women’s bodies and shows us a radical and essential path forward to rediscovering their vulnerability and joy.

Conspirituality takes a deep dive into the troubling phenomenon of influencers who have curdled New Age spirituality and wellness with the politics of paranoia—peddling vaccine misinformation, tales of child trafficking, and wild conspiracy theories.

In the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, a disturbing social media trend emerged: a large number of yoga instructors and alt-health influencers were posting stories about a secretive global cabal bent on controlling the world’s population with a genocidal vaccine. Instagram feeds that had been serving up green smoothie recipes and Mary Oliver poems became firehoses of Fox News links, memes from 4chan, and prophecies of global transformation.

Since May 2020, Derek Beres, Matthew Remski and Julian Walker have used their Conspirituality podcast to expose countless facets of the intersection of alt-health practitioners with far-right conspiracy trolls. Now this expansive and revelatory book unpacks the follies, frauds, cons and cults that dominate the New Age and wellness spheres and betray the trust of people who seek genuine relief in this uncertain age.

With analytical rigor and irreverent humor, Conspirituality offers an antidote to our times, helping readers recognize wellness grifts, engage with loved ones who've fallen under the influence, and counter lies and distortions with insight and empathy.

An enthralling and original first novel about exile, diaspora, and the impossibility of Black refuge in America and beyond.

In the morning, I received a phone call and was told to board a flight. The arrangements had been made on my behalf. I packed no clothes, because my clothes had been packed for me. A car arrived to pick me up.

A man returns home to sub-Saharan Africa after twenty-six years in America. When he arrives, he finds that he doesn’t recognize the country or anyone in it. Thankfully, someone recognizes him, a man who calls him brother—setting him on a quest to find his real brother, who is dying.

In Hangman, Maya Binyam tells the story of that search, and of the phantoms, guides, tricksters, bureaucrats, debtors, taxi drivers, relatives, and riddles that will lead to the truth.

This is an uncommonly assured debut: an existential journey; a tragic farce; a slapstick tragedy; and a strange, and strangely honest, story of one man’s stubborn quest to find refuge—in this world and in the world that lies beyond it.

#book recommendations #jessica wilson #derek beres #matthew remski #julian walker #maya binyam #black women's health #spirituality #conspiracy #literary fiction #south african novels

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whitepassingpocs · 2 years ago

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im a native creole person, so, no strong connection to what ppl think of when they Native American culture (my culture is more strongly gumbo and seafood boil and sausage and whatever), and on top of that I’m pretty decently white passing. My skin is very light brown/olive and my eyes are blueish green and my hair is a medium/light brown and I hate it. All my friends call me white, my white mother calls me white even though she knows im half native (and has actually mocked me for my brown/olive skin before BTW so like… wtf?!) I feel like an imposter in poc spaces and feel bad describing myself as a poc, but I also feel the same in white spaces bc racists still sniff me out and make fun of me for how I look and compare me to Pocahontas and shit. idk I just feel like an alien everywhere I go :/ I don’t have any community I belong in and I know I sound like a whiny child but god I hate being “white passing” so much, I’d give anything to actually look like what I am instead of just looking like a vaguely white ethnically ambiguous weirdo. Hh

hello. firstly, I'm so sorry you're feeling so hopeless and overwhelmed. I understand the frustration and near constant dysphoria of feeling like no one sees you for who you are. I wish I could help more, but for now all I can say is I hope you don't let these feelings and ignorant people discourage you from being proud of who you are. I know it's strange to feel fetishised and invalidated all at the same time, but the truth is white people will always find a reason to invalidate non-whiteness because they don't want us to exist. white people set these binaries of how poc look so they could assert white supremacy, but in reality there is no one way to look your ethnicity. you might feel like looking less white would be easier but it's the opposite and no matter your features, white people and racists will find a way to say you aren't worthy of personhood. my friend is easily a 100 shades darker than me with more pronounced ethnic features but I've seen our white friends claim she isn't Malaysian just because she's mixed. I know it's frustrating but try and redirect your frustration at your looks to their source: white supremacy. we can't change how our phenotypes randomly arranged themselves when we were born but we can acknowledge the privilege they gave us to stand with our more visible peers of colour against white supremacy. I hope you make peace with your situation and things get easier.

#native #creole

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 7 months ago

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Most Girls (D.Grayson)

by Kols_butterfly For as long as she could remember, Eve Jordan had a small robin branded on her wrist. She didn't know how she got it, just that she always felt comforted whenever she looked at it. She felt like there was someone out there, looking out for her, protecting her. Someone out there that lived and breathed just for her. Eve didn't know who. For as long as Dick Grayson could recall, he had always had a small lantern tattooed onto his wrist. He didn't remember getting it done - he wasn't sure anywhere would give him a tattoo. He just knew that everytime he looked at it, a warm feeling would arise in his chest. Dick knew that as soon as his Tati had seen it, he'd burst into a blinding smile and called him the luckiest boy in the world. Later, when he had donned on a mask and started going out as Robin with his adopted father, he would recognise the symbol on his wrist to the same as the Green Lantern Corp. Little did they know, it would be as soon as a green ring came rushing to Eve Jordan one night in Coast City, begging her to put it on. it would be as soon as Dick Grayson with Aqualad and Kid Flash would break into a lab under direct orders of the Justice League to not move. Words: 858, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Young Justice (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Alfred Pennyworth, Aqualad, Artemis Crock, Batman, Black Canary, Connor Kent, Dick Grayson, Green Lantern, Hal Jordan, John Stewart, Kaldur, Kid Flash, M'gann Morzz, Miss Martian, Red Tornado, Robin, Superboy, Wally West, Zatanna Relationships: Dick Grayson/Original Female Character, Artemis Crock/Wally West, Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Hal Jordan/Carol Ferris, Oliver Queen/Dinah Lance Additional Tags: Alfred Pennyworth supremacy, Wally West Needs a Hug, Soulmate AU, Hal Jordan is a good father, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent via https://ift.tt/PXm1F3U

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the caped crusader #gotham #dcu #dc #ao3 #ao3feed

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dc-ocs-200x · 2 years ago

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♡Masterlist♡

* in progress

☆ subject to random change

Time line

Tags

Oliver Quinzel

All can be found under #mallet blonde

Form

One shots

Santa Clause

Sentence prompt 1 *

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

PHOTOS 1

UNCLE HARVEY SUPREMACY TIK TOK

TIK TOK FIC

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dedric Crane

All can be found under #protégé of fear

Form

FILE *

One shots

Halloween mask

First night home from Arkham (posted from main)

Daddy's boy of Arkham *

Can't sleep *

The first lesson of fear *

Psychoanalysis

DPD *

Following in father's footsteps *

Aesthetics

PHOTOS 1

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Alcuin Nygma

Can all be found under #spoiled brat

Form

One shots

Meeting Gotham!Oswald the first time *

Kidnapping aftermath *

Psychoanalysis

Following in father's footsteps *

Aesthetics

PHOTOS 1

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Vincenzo Rizzo-Falcone

Can all be found under #mob innocence

Form

One shots

First meeting

Arkham visits *

Night terrors *

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

PHOTOS 1

TIK TOK FIC

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Apollo

Can all be found under #golden heir

Form

One shots

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lux 'Greed'

Can all be found under #gold n green

Form

FILE *

One shots

Worst birthday

Cruel prank *

When the days are gone, I still stand *

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

TIK TOK FIC

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Darcey 'Lust'

Can all be found under #red wine and skirts

Form

FILE *

One shots

Fool me once, fool me twice *

When the days are gone, I still stand *

Psychoanalysis

Darcey realizing Oliver & Lucy's past of SA * (heavy triggers)

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lucias 'Wrath'

Can all be found under #the it of inferno

Form

FILE ☆

One shots

Father said we're not to cry

Marks and story time (loose sequel to 'Father said we're not to cry')

When the days are gone, I still stand *

Stormy night *

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

TIK TOK FIC

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Athena 'Pride'

Can all be found under #i want to be a pretty girl

Form

FILE ☆

One shots

Immortality cons *

Bad Memories

Of Princesses and Kings

When the days are gone, I still stand *

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ezra Arkham

Can all be found under #arkham heir

Form

One shots

Safe pt. 1 (posted on main)

Safe pt. 2 (posted on main)

A glimpse into insanity *

Still just a little boy *

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jessie Jones

Can all be found under #doe rae mi

Form

One shots

They are they/them *

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jeremy Loeb

Can all be found under #medical liar

Form

One shots

Diagnosis evaluation and blackmail *

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Alexander Strange

Can all be found under #traitor

Form

One shots

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Alice Tetch

Can all be found under #dearest alice

Form

One shots

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Cornelius Elliot

Can all be found under #the sanest man of arkham

Form

One shots

One day we stopped being carried

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

PHOTOS 1

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Achilles Morningstar

Can all be found under #little sun

Form

One shots

Psychoanalysis

Aesthetics

Drawings

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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ms-moonlight-inn · 3 years ago

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Black olives are the enemy & must be eradicated at all costs. The only olives allowed to live are those that swim in my martinis.

#fuck black olives #green olive supremacy #g'head and hate on me for this #I've made my choice #🫒🫒🫒

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aztecbrujeria · 3 years ago

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I joined a Punk KiriBaku Bang!!! It was my first bang piece! You can find the wonderful collection here. I was given the wonderful opportunity to be paired with my Beta @Hayhayn1 on TwT and the AMAAZING artist who created a piece for my fic @PunkInGlitter on TwT. *MINORS DNI*

Pistons & Glycerine 🍋🍋

Summary: It’s the annual Halloween Rat Rod Races and the Red Riot Garage has won. Kirishima and his employees Izuku, Ochako, and Shoto stay for the festivities after to catch the punk band playing. As he stands in the crowd he watches a ghost from his past walk across the stage. Katsuki never thought he’d see him again and felt the need to forget him after, but there he was standing out from the crowd. Can he get Kirishima to forgive him? Will they be together again?

WC: 6.2k

TW: M/M, Frotting, Angst w/Happy Ending, Male Oral, Anal Sex, Gaping, Alludes to Drug OD, Quirkless AU, Punk Rock, Kissing, Cursing, Public Sex, SHORT TOP BIG BOTTOM SUPREMACY

It’s the annual rat rod Halloween races and car show and the Red Riot Garage has just taken the top spot. They decided to celebrate the win by watching the punk show that always accompanied the event. Previously, years before, they always ended up packing up and heading home to celebrate with their loved ones.

However, this year Ochako had convinced them to stay for the show, “Come Onnnnnn!!!! We haven’t been out for awhile and Jirio is out with her friends!” As Shoto and Izuku finished closing up the trailer and checking the straps, they made their way around the back of the trailer to relax. Izuku sat against the bumper, Shoto followed around to lean in front of Izuku, Kirishima watched as Izuku’s thick arms encircled around Shoto’s tapered waist.

“Ei, you know we haven’t been out for drinks in a long time.” Izuku smirked as he hugged Shoto close and Eijiro watched a small blush spread across Shoto’s cheeks. It made him look fondly upon them, almost remembering a forgotten happiness. “Fiinee! We’ll stay...you can open tomorrow then, Ochako.” He could hear Ochako begin to whine and pout before jumping with glee about staying. Eijirou walked over to the 1960 F-150 candy apple red truck, Riot Red he always called it, and pulled out a dirty towel to wipe off some of the grease from the races earlier.

Once he thought his arms and face were clean enough he pulled his coveralls down and tied the filthy fabric at his thick waist. He was left in his black tank top, a colorful array of ink on display, the swirls of black and red contrasted against his rich olive skin tone making the sinew of his muscles enticing. Eijirou stood at 6��9” with 260 pounds of muscle packed on his frame. He knew over the years as he aged, he also gained an intimidating impression.

He had gaged his ears that had metal clothing pins in the center, added one septum piercing, and sleek metallic snake bites that accentuated his thick lips. He made sure to stay professional in some way, he still needed to keep his rocking look, with a nice undercut in his long mane of red hair he either braided the locks or pulled it back in a haphazard bun. He was built like an Oni from legends past, but had a pure heart of gold.

Eijirou stood out among any crowd, his friends would always just say that they could find him in the chaos. You could also hear him from miles away with how deep his baritone was whenever he laughed. Someone once told him his laugh was like the sweetest honey soothing to the soul. Eijirou re-pulled his hair back, with a few strands framing his face, he grabbed the vintage leather jacket from the bucket seat to slip it on. Turning towards the others, shutting the door before locking the truck, “Alright, let’s get some drinks and head to the stage!”

*****

Katsuki was babying the water bottle in his arm as he lounged about the green room in his silk kimono. With his headphones in and shades on he drowned out the noise from Denki and Sero arguing about the importance of western country music to punk rock, “Listen, man, Johnny Cash paved the way for punk rock.” Sero sounded like a stoned surfer. “WHAT! NOOO! Listen, it was Chuck Berry!” Denki talked a million miles a minute and was louder than hell.

Hearing the chaotic calm from the drums in the track playing from Suicidal Tendencies, Katsuki could almost feel his anxiety disappear; along with the annoying discussion from his bandmates. That was until Mina squeezed his leg to get his attention, “BAKUGO! DID YOU HEAR ME?” Opening his gleaming vermillion eyes, caked in heavily smudged black eyeshadow and eyeliner, “Pinky, what the fuck do you want?” Mina smiled, he saw the vein of annoyance on her brow, “We gotta get ready to head to the stage in five.”

Bakugo inhaled and brought his hands in front of him popping his knuckles, “Alright, fuck.” He put his phone on the makeup counter to stand and check his face. “Bakubro, what do you think?” Katsuki looked in the mirror at Sero, “American Blues, Bessie Smith, that’s where punk started.” Denki looked like he was short circuiting as he thought about this. Kats looked back at his reflection smirking as he opened his kimono to do a quick costume check.

He was in his thirties, post addiction, and was heavier than he used to be thanks to the drugs and alcohol. After his fourth stint in rehab and disappearing from his previous life, he found therapy and hit the gym again. He was on the shorter side at 5’11, thick blond hair in a short undercut, stocky with a broad chest and shoulders, tiny waist, and ink splashing across his flesh that hid the fading scars from his past.

Grabbing the black lipstick on the counter, throwing his shades near his phone, he started to paint his thick lips. Since it was Halloween at the car show he decided to channel Dr. Frankenfurter for the show. He looked down and checked the cheeky black panties, barely containing his junk and riding up his thick ass, to make sure his torn garterbelt was holding up the thigh high fishnets accentuating his muscular legs. He looked hot and he knew it.

Turning he found the black stilletos and slipped into them, making sure to grab his Chuck Taylors for the later, “All right extras let’s fucking go.” Denki and Sero looked at Bakugo, one wearing a tight nun’s outfit and the other wearing a maid’s dress, they both whistled, cat calling him while he walked past, he rolled his eyes. Mina squealed in glee, she decided to be a steampunk Jim Hawkins, “Kats, you are so fucking hot babe!” She spanked his ass making him chuckle.

The band made their way to the stage with bustling stage hands showing them the way. He threw his robe at the roadie as he hit the side stage and looked out briefly. Katsuki never paid attention to the screaming crowd. He was the first one to walk out to take his place behind the drums and begin testing them, “These extra’s are more than-...” As he sat behind the drum set he looked from the back of the stage and saw the flash of a crimson red lion’s mane in the center of the roiling crowd, feeling his heart drop. He felt his palms become sweaty, his gut began to turn…”FUCK!”

Denki, Mina, and Sero took their places with Katsuki zoning out. It took Mina coming up to tap on his snare that he shook off the sight of the enormous mountain of a man in the center crowd. “HEY! Are you paying attention, hmmm?” Katsuki clicked his tongue and started screeching at Mina trying to center himself as the panic began to set in; he just needed to start the show and he could forget him. He reached down to grab his worn drum sticks, clearing his throat before he opened his mouth to scream to the crowd through the mic, “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO!!!!”

******

Kirishima stood amid the chaotic crowd while his friends and coworkers next to him were chattering away, mixing in with the Halloween crowd. “Hey Kiri?” He felt Ochako pull on his sleeve making his gaze snap down to her. “Hmm, what’s up?” He watched the thick woman bounce up and down, making her space buns follow in tandem, “Tell me if you recognize the band, okay..” Kirishima smiled and looked back up to the stage; it wasn’t hard for him to see the stage as he towered over the entire crowd. The lights began to change and he watched the band walk out to their places when his heart dropped seeing a ghost from his past.

His jaw dropped as he noticed the stocky blonde bombshell walk out in black stilettos, fishnets held up by a shredded garterbelt, and rhinestone panties hugging his perfect ass that caught the stage light. His eyes devoured the tattoos that blazed paths of tinitalting sin from under Katsuki’s bottoms up to his pierced nipples and wrapped around his arms and neck. Kirishima felt the oxygen leave his body. The drummer seemed to notice him and he felt his face begin to turn that same shade of his hair.

Eijiro felt his heart hammer against his chest looking at the beautiful blonde drummer, “Is that...KATSUKI!?!?!?!” He heard Midoryia and Todoroki begin to snicker before Katsuki’s voice rang out from behind the drum set. He watched as he began the beat for the band to follow as “Sweet Transvestite” began to echo from the stage. Eijiro watched in awe as Katsuki began to sing while his band backed him up. Here on the stage the blonde locked eyes with his own vermillion gaze… “But-he’s-he’s supposed to be...DEAD!”

The crowd roiled outside of his shattering world, Eijiro’s pupils dilating, he began to be jostled by the starting mosh pit in front of him. It took Shoto squeezing his thick shoulder snapping him out of his panic, “Kiri? Are you okay?” He looked into Shoto’s heterochromatic eyes and felt fresh pain and tears begin to well up from the shock and anger. He squeezed his friend's hand, “I-I have to go...You guys have fun and enjoy the win, okay.” Shoto’s eyes flashed with concern before dropping his hand.

Kiri smiled trying to hide his crumbling facade of strength, “Tell them I wasn’t feeling good. Oh, tell Ochako that I’ll open the shop, you guys can come in late tomorrow.” Shoto nodded and Kiri reached into his pocket and handed him the business credit card, “Buy anything you guys need and give it back tomorrow.” Before he could be asked any more questions, giving the stage one last look. catching Katsuki’s eyes, he did a quick about face and began to storm out of the crowd, making people part like the red sea.

Shoto watched as Kiri’s back was ram-rod straight and how quickly he left, it was Izuku hooking his arm around his waist that made him look down into his emerald eyes, “Is Eijiro okay?” Shoto nodded, “Yeah, he wasn’t feeling well. He said to come in late tomorrow and he’ll open.” Before Izuku turned back to the crowd, Shoto gave Izuku the credit card, “You know I had problems with my father’s card; don't let me have this.” Izuku laughed before they continued watching the concert.

Joining the rest of the crowd while not realizing that Katsuki was playing and watching his past split the audience to leave. Katsuki felt his heart break all over as he watched the ever reliable leather jacket fade away, “FUCK!” Katsuki let the beat for a Ramones cover carry the band. Katsuki could feel the uneasiness and the deep feeling of longing begin to seep into his soul before Mina fell back slightly giving him a look.

Katsuki read her lips as they told him to let it go and he shook off the feeling to run out into the crowd. He was pulled back to his reality and played with a fervor that made Sero on bass look back at him and smile wide. He pushed his feelings aside and played his heart out the rest of the night ending with him a sweaty mess and more quiet than ever before.

*****

Later in the week the garage was busier than ever, with the win from the rat rod race and word of mouth, Ejirou’s books were full. Finally standing up from the desk in his office, he headed out to the garage to get his hands dirty and heard the phone ringing again. “FUCK! Ochako, you’ve got phones now! I can't do it anymore.” Ochako popped her head out from under one of the cars, “Sure thing Red!”

Stopping to check on Izuku and Shoto’s work on the ancient Cadillacs, a fleet brought from a high paying client, he headed over to the next bay. Pulling his hair out of his face he heard another vehicle pull into the empty fourth stall as the ding rang through the garage. Grabbing a shop rag and stuffing it into his back pocket he headed towards the cherry picker holding the V8 engine block to the Shelby Mustang in the third stall. Using his strength to move the block into place to be ready to drop it back into the car. He was so focused he didn’t hear the patron behind him asking him questions. Kiri never heard the ding of the fourth stall as another vehicle was pulled in and parked.

As he dropped the engine back in, with some cursing and strong arming, he was yanked out of his concentration when he heard him, “You always did force things into something that didn’t fit, shitty hair.” Kiri stood so quickly, hitting his head on the end of the heavy chain on the cherry picker, “Ow, fuck!” Rubbing the back of his skull he turned to see Katsuki standing behind him looking over his oversized rounded black sunglasses. Once again he felt the roiling of excitement, heartbreak, and anger well up looking at the man.

“Katsuki?” Shoto, Izuku, and Ochako looked at the third stall, stopping all their work. They wondered why Eijiro looked broken, almost, staring at the stocky blonde clad in black leather, v-neck and distressed jeans that hugged his perfect legs. Kiri brought his arm down and grabbed the shop rag that hung out of his coveralls pocket and wiped his hands off. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Ochako finally realized who had pulled into the fourth stall with their 1940’s Hudson Coup in the sleek burnt orange paint job with the green interior, “Ohhh…I fucked up.”

Katsuki flinched at the venomous deep voice, serrated with pain, “I’ve brought my car in for some work. I saw that you won the races and thought I’d come and check out how your business has taken off.” Kiri stopped wiping his hands and looked at his bruised nail from fighting with the block. He brought his vermillion eyes up to Karsuki’s and instantly regretted it. “You wanted to see…how I was doing?” He felt the tension in his large shoulders tighten and the desperate need to walk towards that man and grab him in his arms while also shaking him from exasperation.

His voice raised just a bit before he started chuckling, “Eijiro…” Katsuki‘s voice pleaded. Ochako noticed the pained look from far away and turned towards Shoto and Izuku, “Guys, we’re closing early get your shit and let’s give him some space.” They quietly moved around and left their tools where they needed them before grabbing jackets and heading out. Ochako put the office phone on auto answer and flipped the sign over in the front before walking out and yelling at Kiri before they left, “Hey! We closed early, family emergency! We’ll see ya tomorrow boss!”

Kirishima’s head snapped towards Ochako who was pushing the other men out of the back of the garage. “Hey!” Ochako yelled back, “Sorry boss Izuku’s mom is having a hard time, gotta go!” He heard Izuku ask Ochako if his mom really called the shop before he heard him yowl from the slap upside the back of his head from Ochako. Eijiro stood, hands still with the dirty shop rag, watching his way of getting Katsuki outta the shop walk away, “Shit.” He looked back at the blond, standing still and looking like a damned goth hunk; it made Eijiro angry and horny at the same time. He shook his head and put the rag back in his pocket, “Fine, let’s take a look. Still have that Hudson I see, is she still giving you problems with the tranny?”

Katsuki watched Eijiro turn, he saw the ripples of the muscles on his frame moving in tandem, the ink that splayed across his chest under his tank making his distressed black jeans tighter. The bombastic blonde saw the way his ears had acquired more piercings and gauges now, the safety pins sending shivers down his spine. Eijiro’s thick red mane was pulled up showing the ink midnight natural color of his undercut while strands of crimson fell in his eyes . He realized it had been years since the last time he had seen Eijiro and was blown away by how much he’d changed his appearance. It took Eijiro clearing his throat waiting for him to follow him to his car that he felt his Chuck Taylors move.

“Tch.” He made his usual sound and pushed his oversized sunglasses up his nose trying to cover up the anxiety about the conversation that was about to go down. Eijiro stopped in front of the grill of the coup’s hood, with expert finesse, his large fingers worked through to pop the hood. Katsuki almost moaned at how the muscles in Kiri’s thick forearms moved when he triggered the latch. He was so distracted by the older weathered man before him, “Damn…when did we grow up?” It took him a minute to realize he was staring harder than he wanted to at his spurned ex.

Katsuki cleared his throat and ran a rough hand through his blond locks walking towards the car to lean his trim hips against the car, “So, what do ya think?” He was trying to broach the big fucking pink elephant in the room, “Gee Kats, how about I fucked up Eijiro!!!... and I’m sorry I disappeared after you saved me from my OD!!!”, he wanted more than anything to get Eijiro to look at him like he used to. He watched shoulders tense and then ripple as Eijiro checked hoses, fluids, and what he could without a wrench. He always loved watching Eijiro work on cars, it was like he was playing his own version of a symphony.

Kats followed the lines of the mountain man, the ink enticing his hungry eyes to the way his grease stained tank top hugged the working back muscles as he bent over in the coveralls that hung off his waist. Katsuki’s dick ached with the memory of Eijiro and the way he could play him like a cadence for a song. Eijiro stood, placing a large arm to rest on the hood, “So, fuck it, where the fuck do you get off coming and seeing me?” Katsuki felt the chills of the anger laced in Eijrio’s honeyed voice. He placed his black manicured hand on the edge of the open hood gripping tight. “Well, I thought you’d want to see me after all this time.” He smiled at him and hoped he could see the pain hidden behind his glasses.

Eijiro took in the man leaning against his own car, picturing the body sleeve that Eijiro knew was underneath the clothes the blonde was currently wearing. He blinked while shaking his head slightly when the crashing scene of a foaming and pale Katsuki came into sharp focus forcing his stomach to flip all over again at the memory. He finally felt the anger, anguish, and the heartbreak bubble up exploding into his broken heart making his hands shake. Eijiro, trying to stay in control of his emotions, chuckled darkly under his breath making his way to his workstation and grabbing a socket wrench. The car's motor was fine and in excellent condition, Eijiro thought to himself; clearly Katsuki had taken excellent care of the coup from the last few years.

Eijiro felt the cool metal in his fist, squeezing the wrench trying to center himself, his other hand resting on the table top. “Where do you get off, huh?” Katsuki’s heart dropped, he knew this wasn’t going to be easy with Eijiro, “Huh?!” Katsuki couldn’t help the knee jerk reaction, “I…” Katsuki couldn't say he was sorry, leaving the towering man turning on his heel. The tabletop rang with metal meeting metal as Eijiro let go of the tool. Katsuki pulled the glasses off his face, strands of blonde framing his face, before he looked into the vermillion eyes so deep in pain he saw his own soul’s reflection staring back. “Ei, I never…I-” Before he could finish what he was going to say the behemoth of a man closed the distance and grabbed him by the lapels of his leather jacket and lifted him off his feet holding him up in the air. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I’VE BEEN THROUGH?...DO YOU KNOW THAT I MOURNED YOU LIKE YOU HAD FUCKIN’ DIED!?”

Katsuki, taken by surprise, grabbed ahold of Eijiro’s wrists and held on looking up into his contorted face that now had brimming tears. “Eijiro! Please, Let me-” Eijiro lowered Katsuki down, the soles of his shoes touching earth once more, still holding onto his shirt and jacket he could feel Eijiro shaking with emotions. “Katsuki…I loved you with my whole being, my whole entire soul, and I thought you had died after I rolled you into that God damned ER…When I heard from your dealer where you were…hiccup…you still had the belt around your arm…” Katsuki was silent, his body becoming deflated, with his smallest voice full of regret, “I still love you Ei…I’m so-...” Just then he felt thick lips with the bite of surgical steel crash into his own lips where teeth and tongues danced melding together like colliding atoms. Katsuki felt the oxygen leave his lungs, taken from the force of being pulled into the giant man holding onto him like it was his last day on earth; his palms gripped tighter onto the man before him and savored the taste of his tears that he cried for them both.

Eijiro had pulled Kats into himself and poured every angry thought, every heartbroken memory, every seering passionate experience they had into that kiss. He still didn’t believe Katsuki was real and thought that if this was his last day with him he was going to memorize every minute detail about him. Katsuki let go of Eijiro’s wrists and reached to pull on his tank, frantically seeking the purchase of his flesh. He moaned breaking the kiss pulling Eijiro towards the hood of his car, Eijiro crashed into him, hips grinding against Kat’s own, “Fuck, Ei…” Eijiro pulled the hood down while Katsuki raked his fingers down his sides and slid them beneath the fabric of his tank making Kiri’s eye’s roll into the back of his skull.

Eijiro’s nerves were already alite with the octane desire only Katsuki was ever able to pull from him. He simply wanted Kats to touch him and burn him up like the nitros he put in his racers, searing his veins with him along the way. His heavy cock, he was usually very self conscious of, hardened inside his coveralls while his heavy balls ached as they filled with the built up need for release. “Kats, hnnggg, fuck.” Katsuki could feel the monstrous dick print inside the oil stained coveralls, his hole clenched with the need to be filled once more, he pulled Eijiro by the tied fabric around his hips harder into his own aching core so his erection could gain some friction and relief from rutting against Kiri.

Katsuki’s nipples were hard beneath the black shirt being stimulated by the while his own flesh felt like it was on fire only Eijiro seemed to be feeding into. Fingers still under the tank top on Eijiro he felt the adonis belt, heavily veined, flex whenever Katsuki felt the throbbing twitch from the coveralls against him, he looked at the man long enough before his eyes glazed over he was able to take a small amount of control. “Take this off, I want to see you.” He hungrily watched as Eijiro reached down and lifted the tank off his torso revealing the chest and sleeves of traditional Japanese ink swirling with bright crimson and white that wrapped around his rippling arms. Katsuki’s mouth watered; he hadn't ever found anyone else like his mountain man. Katsuki’s eyes followed the tributaries of cut muscle down to the delicious raven happy trail that led to paradise beneath Kiri’s coveralls.

As soon as the piece of constricting clothing was removed from Eijiro he bent down and took the blonde’s lips and tasted him once again; Katsuki was his drug of choice always. Their muscles sliding over one another filling the shop with sounds of sloppy kisses, he grabbed Kats by his jacket and hurriedly pushed it off his thick shoulders. Hearing the clang from the rivets as it fell to the floor below them made Kats frantic, “Fuck, Ei, I want you…I miss you so fucking much.” Eijiro rut his hips against Kats’ dick harder making him whimper into his kiss, he could feel his tip begin to leak twitching with the need for release, groaning when Kats grabbed his chin to bite his bottom lip to break the kiss. “I have wanted this…oh, f-fuuck!” He felt Eijiro’s large palms slide under his shirt and for a moment forgot how big Kirishima really was, clumsily pulling the fabric up to slide off his own torso, Kiri ended up tearing the shirt. “Hey, shitty hair you’re gonna pay for tha-...”

Katsuki moaned as he felt the hot trail of spit from Kiri tracing his tongue along the lines of his body and muscles beneath the Japanese ink of his body sleeve. He felt the excited kisses followed by harsh teeth biting and marking his skin. Kirishima loved how fat katsuki’s tits had become and took his time in teasing; his tongue found the pierced nipples and circled around each one of his nipples before he latched on and sucked on his tits. One large palm massaging the other while dry humping Katsuki. It made Kat's legs begin to shake and thanked whoever was above that they were against the car holding him up. “Ei…fuck, fuck…” Katsuki was beginning to lose control and wanted to savor this before he reached down and grabbed Kiri’s face again, shoving his manicured fingers into his mouth, “I am going to fill you up like I used to and make you scream my name Eijiro.”

Eijiro moaned as the domineering voice from Katsuki began to wash over his senses triggering a large switch in his head; one that had been dormant for too long. Ruby eyes looked gazed up into the cocky man’s own explosive red eyes and felt his warm drool spill over his lips and down his chin as his tongue was pinned beneath Katsuki’s steady thumb. “I want you to be my good boy and suck…this…cock.” Katsuki's wicked smirk spreads across his face darkening with his predatory energy, laughing as he is falling back into the ways of making Eijiro completely his once more. Worn, large, fingertips followed the curve of muscled thighs to hook into the band of boxers and jeans pulling them down in one swift motion freeing Katsuki’s strained erection. He could feel Eijiro panting against his hand that held him in position, Eijiro watched his flushed, angry, girthy tip spring and bounce off his navel slick with precum that coated the soft velvet of his shaft. Eijiro gagged against Katsuki’s fingers as he moved his tongue wanting to taste and worship Kats.

Strong, calloused, hands caressed up Kats’ thick thighs almost encompassed by one hand each. His legs were filled with black ink, bright oranges, and vivid greens splayed across his supple skin hiding the scars from his jaded past. Katsuki, shuddering against Eijiro’s touch, let his head fall back as he released Eijiro to let the man take him with his mouth. Eijiro wasted no time in kneeling, sitting back upon his sprawled legs, guiding the feral man’s tip to his swollen-bruised lips. Katsuki jolted forward, grabbing the back of Eijiro’s crimson mane, when his tongue swirled around his pulsing frenulum, “Oh f-fuuuckkk, haaa ahaaa, Ei you’re so fucking good…just like that.” Katsuki gasped as the moist nirvana of Eijiro’s mouth swallowed him all the way to the back of his tight throat encompassing him whole. Eijiro’s nose brushed the trimmed blond hairs of his pubic bone, taking in his scent of caramel and musk, the scent he had come to miss for so long; he sighed in contentment. He reached up and cupped Katsuki’s heavy sack, rolling each orb in his giant palm, pulling the sensitive skin as he began to set the pace for Katsuki. Bobbing his head he took him down, gagging each time, forcing expletives out of Katsuki's mouth. The hedonistic cries coming from his dominant partner drove Eijiro quickly to the edge. Eijiro was close to spilling his own seed inside of his coveralls still containing his raging hard on. He began to feel more tears well up in his eyes the longer he took Katsuki’s fat girth to his jaw’s limit.

Katsuki felt every swallow, every roll and careful skin pull of his heavy sack, his fingers entwined in a sea of red before he fisted from the toe curling oblivion that was fast approaching. Looking down he saw new fat tears roll down the cheeks of the large man between his thighs. With his thumbs he wiped them away and growled out an order, “Enough, stand up and take those off.” Eijiro whimpered but let him go with an audible pop, the loss of Eijiro’s hot mouth forced him to grip the head of his dick forcing him to stave off cumming too soon, “F-fuck.” Eijiro stood and backed up to slide out of his coveralls, a deep blush spread across his face, feeling his monstrous dick bob up and down with how heavy his girth and length were. He reached to carefully fist languidly from base to tip catching the copious amount of pre that coated his hand. Katsuki had forgotten just for a moment how big Eijiro was making his hole clench with the need to be filled, but first he wanted to fuck all the bad memories out of Eijiro so they can start again; maybe.

“Come here.” Katsuki called to him Eijiro closed the distance, feeling the shorter man reach up and bring his lips down to his, tasting the mixture of saliva and pre upon his tongue. Eijiro broke the kiss when he felt Katsuki grasp both of their dicks thrusting up into the blonde’s hand. The feeling of the prominent veins from Kats against his own made his knees buckle for just a moment when Kats quickly turned his body to be pressed up against the hood of his car. “Kats…P-please…Oh G-GOD!” The sensation of cool metal against his ass and the warmth and slight squishiness from Katsuki’s body made his sack begin to tighten too quickly. He couldn’t help the movement of his hips meeting Katsuki’s own thrust, their cocks sliding against one another from their mixing precum, it was becoming too much too quick he braced himself against the car trying to stave off his orgasm. “Fucking come for me baby, cum and make a mess for me…I wanna fuck your tight ass…Oh-fuck, come with me Ei!” Eijiro started crying out as he felt Kats hips stutter against his own with a tighter grip Katsuki felt his heavy cock pulse first signaling his own release. Both crying out, they let their come spill over Kats’s hand, dripping down to the cool floor below, Eijiro still catching his breath leaned back against the car before Kats had taken his lips.

Katsuki saw stars behind his eyes from cumming with Eijiro and snapped quickly back to reality watching the monstrous man lean back upon the hood of his car roused his hunger even more. He reached for his forearm and spun him around pushing the taller man down so his cheek met the paint job of the coup. “I’m not done with you yet baby.” Eijiro looked back over his shoulder and felt Katsuki spread his legs open before taking his filthy fingers and tracing the base of his spine down to the twitching opening of his ass. He was gonna stand when Kats’s free hand fisted his hair and pushed him down, keeping him flushed against the car. “Fuck, Kats, P-Please…fuck me.” That’s when he felt the blonde’s first thick digit slide into his opening curling against him to work him open. Eijiro cried out and moaned, pushing his hips back like a greedy bitch, feeling Katsuki pump in and out of him before a second digit joined the first to work him open even more. “Oh Ei, you look so fucking beautiful like that, I’ve missed you so god damned much.” The feeling of Katsuki scissoring and relaxing his tight muscle made another burst of nitrous desire burst through Eijiro’s system.

Katsuki watched and moaned in the way Eijiro’s olive muscled back flexed and relaxed, the way his dimples on the lower back become more pronounced as Eijiro’s fat ass bounced back trying to be fucked by his fingers. “Kats P-Please! P-please…n-need you.” Katsuki’s dick ached again; he couldn't hold out much longer and felt like Eijiro was prepped enough to take him. Pulling his fingers out he reached down and fisted himself just a couple times before guiding his head to the opening of Eijiro. Slowly he felt his tip become sucked in, he had to stop once he was in, “S-So tight…” Slowly he inched in until finally he bottomed out and watched the jiggle of Eijiro’s ass, he wound up his hand bringing it down upon his flesh hearing him scream his name. “Fuck, baby, are you ready for all of this?” Eijiro surprised him and pushed back, “Y-YES FUCK ME P-PLEASE!” Katsuki lost all sanity and grabbed his ass to pull his cheeks apart as he pulled his dick out, he watched his hole gap clenching around nothing before he bent down and spit into his ass, with all the power of his hips thrust back inside causing Eijiro to scream for more. Faster and faster he thrust into the greedy walls of Eijiro, he could feel his own drool begin to escape his lips, his tip was so sensitive and the building up of his orgasm was making him twitch with each slap of his balls against the fat sack of his lover. He brought his hand down across Eijiro’s thick ass watching it become red with every spanking when finally he could feel the grip on his dick become tighter.

Heavily breathing, thighs bruising the back of Eijiro’s, he took out all his frustration and all his regrets on his lover. He wanted Eijiro to never second guess him, he wanted to be given another chance, he wanted more than anything to be loved again. “Kats…G-GONNA C-CUM!” He felt the walls squeeze down on him, the thick head of his dick abusing Eijiro’s prostate, picking up the pace he began to reach his own release. “Are you ready, fuck, please Eijiro…Come with me!” Reaching around and taking Ejiro’s leaking red dick in his fist he began to stroke Eijiro to the pace of his hips forcing him to stand and reach around to hold onto Kats. Katsuki felt him clench down and hold him causing both men to stutter once again spilling their oozing releases with and in one or the other. Kats screamed Eijiro’s name and felt every thick rope paint his insides white, leaving nothing behind. Both falling forward, Katsuki slowly pulled out watching the biggest load he’d had in years flow out from Eijiro’s gaping hole. “F-fuck…Ei.” Both men slowly came down to earth, Katsuki found his torn shirt and picked it up to clean up Eijiro still bent over the front of his car. “You know that was always a favorite look for you.”

Eijiro stayed silent, he watched from the corner of his eye as Katsuki turned to grab his jeans, his heart constricted and he stood to reach and grab his wrist, fingers encircling the entirety. “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” Katsuki felt his wrist get tighter and heard the pain in the beautiful boy’s honeyed voice, “Eijiro I wasn’t a good person back then. I never meant to do what I did.” He was taken by surprise when Eijiro came up behind him and hugged him. “I forgave you a long time ago. Please come home, we can be sober together.” With those words Katsuki’s heart felt squeezed in the best way, silent tears fell down his cheeks, “Promise?” Eijiro turned his head towards him and he rested his forehead against the blondes, “I will always have a place for you.” Katsuki felt a quiet sob rack his chest when he turned and wrapped his arms around his boulder man, “You dumb, shitty hair, like pistons & glycerine we go together.”

@anime-central

#kiribaku #husbando #2d men #bnha fanfiction #eijirou kirishima #lemons #katsuki bakugou #small top #big bottom #m/m fanfic #angst/fluff #makeup schmex #krbk fanfic #krbk #bakushima #bakugou x kirishima #animecentral

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mrskurono · 4 years ago

Text

Schweiden Sex Education || Wakatoshi Ushijima x Fem!Reader

Tag(s): oral, semi public, slight age gap, talk of taking virginity, dirty talk

Character(s): Wakatoshi Ushijima (hq), with mentions of other Schweiden members

Word Count: 4k

a/n: I intend to make this a mini series so here’s to keeping one thirsty brain cell (:

part (2) (3)

The Schweiden team had always felt like a home to you. Really it was your home. And had been for the past six, almost seven, years now. The only ones who held supremacy over you were Nicollas and Fukuro. And that was a tenuous supremacy when you argued you did more work than they did to help manage the team. Mostly the veteran men didn’t argue with you.

And surprisingly neither did the newbies as they came in one by one. Each year adding another body to your roster and another mouth to listen to. Quickly though the Schweiden players always seemed to get the hint who was the mother hen of the eagle roost. Even the obstinate youngsters the team got within the last few years realized that.

Korai perhaps your hardest to twin. Like a true middle child. He raised hell when he could but learned fast you had no time for games. The other two though? The one to come after him was sullen but determined. You honestly appreciated the break Tobio gave you in comparison to Korai. But the older of the three newest recruits? He left you stumped.

Wakatoshi Ushijima. Or as Tobio and Korai repeatedly said, Ushiwaka. Came first. He was quiet and good at what he does. An obvious pick for the team. Like all your players you wanted to cultivate a good relationship with him. If your boys were happy then they played happy.

But unlike Toshiro who you could call if he was gonna have a bad day by the way he left his equipment in the Schweiden’s gym instead of the lockers. Or Fukuro who almost never had a bad day if there was a pack of spearmint gum set on the bench right inside the men’s locker room. Your newest eaglet was something of a mystery.

The first season you had him under your care was ruthless. He wouldn’t speak but maybe two words to you. And that was in one week. When you tried to make him feel more at home the man would look at you with a dumbfounded look and tell you his home was back in Japan. These gestures seemed to go right over his head.

Korai came along the following season and with another younger player you thought maybe Ushijima would warm up to you. That was a false hope as most of the season was spent rangling Korai for better or worse.

It wasn’t until the youngest Schweiden came that you finally had some insight to the stoic man. Tobio had off handed comments about their matches back in high school. Specifically his first year as he would repeatedly tell you that his team got to go to nationals that year and not his. This didn’t help you a lot but the other things he and Korai drug out of him did.

Soon you tried using Ushiwaka instead of anything else. Tobio and Korai insisted maybe he felt to formal around his manager. It would illicit a response of him looking at you. Just to quickly look away. Then it was anticipating things he might need. Extra towels, clean jerseys for practice, even snacks here and there for long practices. All of it met with him staring at you from either a distance. Or avoiding eye contact with you the second you were within arms reach of him.

Concerned he might hate you. You tried harder to win your player over. A happy player was a happy win.

“Ushiwaka-kun!” Again this week you flag him down as he enters the gymnasim with Tobio. In your hands are the water bottles you always keep filled for the men even if they bring their own, “And Tobio-kun how are you guys today?”

Like normal Tobio yawned, regardless of the fact it was two in the afternoon, “Fine I guess. Where’s Hoshiumi senpai?”

“Went to go get something for Fukuro apparently it wasn’t clear,” You had a good idea of what a normal Tuesday looked like for your men, “Do you want me to get Toshiro to practice with you two today?”

“Sure,” Tobio thanked you.

But it was Ushiwaka’s scowl that still you wanted to prevent. So of course you offered him a bottle, “I got the electrolyte power you like Ushiwaka-kun.”

Staring hard down at you. It takes you a moment to realize he isn’t staring at the white sports bottle. And indeed staring at you. Ready to open your mouth and ask what the problem was, Tobio nudges him in the side. Korai was seen coming back in from the other end of the gym with Toshiro. Meaning whatever kinship you were trying to cultivate was cut short by the men going to business with practice. Once again foiled in trying to make all your players happy. You sigh and go about the rest of practice helping where you can.

Throughout the practice though something seemed off. Every time you turned around you found Ushiwaka’s eyes on you. No matter where you were in the gym. Be it picking up volleyballs. Or bent over refilling bottles. His gaze followed you from a distance. Having not realized this much until you had unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt to let yourself breath.

Pulling away the fabric from your neck and collar to fan yourself a little. This was when you saw Ushiwaka's face nearly boring holes into you. First you thought he wanted something. But the second you went to go grab a water for him, the six three brute of a man turned away quickly. Stumping you once again for what he was looking at you for.

A second time that day, towards the end of practice, did your attention get peaked once more. You were standing around the men with clipboard in hand. Arms folded up under your bust and waiting for Fukuro and Nicollas to finish their spiel. That your gaze found Ushiwaka's gaze indiscriminately locked onto your chest.

Sure the team members were all taller than you but almost none of them looked at you like that. Even Korai who you always kept an eye on just because he ran his mouth so often. So when it was Ushiwaka's olive green eyes entranced by the dip in your shirt, you had to do a double take to make sure he was really staring at you.

Holding still you forget to listen to what is going on around you. Just staying still, breath caught in your chest as you wonder how long he’s going to stare at you. Unsure if he’s even noticed you watching him.

Soon there is a heat creeping up on your cheeks. The objectification almost a turn on. You wonder if he’s tried to look down your shirt before. Has he looked at you wearing shorts? Did he notice the one time you wore your leggings with the hole in the crotch? Each daunting thought made your insides twist with giddiness before that was ripped from you the second your eyes met his.

Like every time before, Ushiwaka looked away. Scowl on his face and refusing your eye contact. Even if he was just staring down your shirt he didn’t decide to keep looking at you for long. You thoughts a buzz as Fukuro called the meeting over and now you had something else to think about.

Thoughts stirred in you from that moment. Perhaps you were trying to get his attention in the wrong way. Practices and meetings didn’t change. But the way you presented yourself did. Keeping blouses unbutton lower. Tucking things up high with the threat of midriff always lurking. You took full advantage of showing yourself off with little comment from the older players. For as far as they were concerned was you were seeing someone outside work. It wasn’t knew for you to spruce up when you had a suitor. There was no suitor but there was someone who had noticed your change in attire.

“Pay attention!!” Korai raged about the third ball that went right by Ushiwaka’s head. This was getting worse by the day and Korai’s fuse was getting shorter.

“What? I was.” Ushiwaka frowned at his teammate like he was lying.

“Huh?? Really?? Paying attention??” Korai bolstered his chest at his fellow volleyball player, “Three balls what am I your ball boy??”

“No we have one of those.” Tobio interjected. Little to care about Korai getting bent out of shape but he did think it was ridiculous to hear that they didn’t have one.

“Ehh??? I know that!” Korai huffed as he chucked at ball Ushiwaka’s face, “I’m tired of this idiot sucking at practice!”

You overheard the Schweiden youngerster arguing so you look up from your paperwork actually not aware of anything. Practice was almost over so what Korai was getting bent out of shape over confused you and the rest of the team.

“I hit every serve.” Ushiwaka informed the shorter wing spiker like there was no validity to his accusations.

Korai made to mock him childishly and rolled his eyes before looking over at you for some reason, “If he wasn’t thinking about fucking you all the time then we could get something done!”

“Alright!” Fukuro clapped loudly like that was cover up what his teammate decided to blurt out, “I think we’re done for today!”

More than stunned you look behind you like Korai might have been meaning someone else. Even if you were showing a little more skin this past week you still thought it was a joke.

“He’s all pissy because he’s a virgin-” Korai started up again but Nicollas decided he’d put his foot down too to help Fukuro out.

“Wait and your not?” Tobio looked genuinely surprised at the white haired man.

“What?! No I’m not what kinda question is-”

“Clean up! Or laps now!” Fukuro hollered.

Fukuro’s laps were hell.

Stunned by that entire transaction right in front of you. It takes a moment before you really even register what Korai said. But it’s then that your eyes dart right over to Ushiwaka. He’s still a virgin? You couldn’t tell it Korai was being a shit or maybe, there was some validity to that?

Sure your cleavage was slightly self indulgent to make yourself feel good. But knowing that you had become a possible fixation was....almost hot?

Now it was your turn to not take your eyes off your teams wing spiker. Had a normal person been called out like that then they would be a mess or at least red with embarrassment. Ushiwaka seemed, unphased. While they cleaned up and didn’t earn actual laps. You hung back with the dwindling fact that Korai told the truth and wasn’t just trying to start something for being crabby.

Having taken too much time after the little outburst. You ended being one of the last people to leave the gym. Nicollas and Toshiro waved you good night. With a small apology for earlier. You laughed it off and chucked it up to Korai being himself. When you turned around though you saw one of your members was still practicing sole. Ushiwaka.

Clipboard hugged to your chest you watch him for a second. Still no illicit response for what happened earlier. Was he just staring at you because he didn’t like you?

No answer as he looks at you once. But then drops his volleyball in the bin to disappear back into the locker room. You guessed you should probably head home now. Only to be stopped with a wicked idea surfacing in your mind.

You could just ask? Where was the harm in asking?

Setting your things back down you make your way back to the men’s locker room. Vacant now so you knew no one was back there but the wing spiker.

Searching the locker room you spot the younger man over by his locker. Of course getting his things. Maybe things really were in your head and Korai was talking out his ass. But when you watched him peel off his jersey your lady brain had other ideas.

It had been a while since you’d gotten any. Passing into your late twenties did that as did travel and working with a team of constantly sweaty men. So the last time you might have actually seen action was more than a few months.

Your grip on the edge of the lockers you leaned into tightened. He was, god he was delicious to look at. An impulse and you push away from the locker.

“Ushiwaka-kun!” You hail him but before he can register the intruder in the locker room, you have yourself pushed up against him. Looking up at him with the perfect view down your blouse, “...is what Korai-kun said true?”

For the first time, in almost three years, the glimmer of a response shown on the man’s face. It was subtle. And you would have missed it had you not been watching him so closely. But the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down in the most guilty swallow of a man’s life. Korai was right.

Fueled by the temptation of untouched skin. You push yourself up on the man’s lips without question. Knowing full well that no one besides you had touched them. Kissing a virgin never in a million years had you thought it would turn you on like this,

Almost entirely one sided. Not for the sake of the feeling of Ushiwaka lean his tall frame into the kiss. He purely did not know what to do when your lips met his. Stunned by the fact he’d stared at them for countless hours with lewd thoughts always surfacing. Now that it was actually happening though the volleyball savant had no idea what to do.

Pulling away with a lingering touch on his chest. You realize just the bridge of his nose has gotten a dusting of blush on it. He really had no way to word anything. Perhaps Korai’s loud mouth was the best thing to happen to either of you.

“Let me,” You whisper like someone is going to hear you in the vacant locker room, “Let me show you.”

His thick brows pinch in the middle and he’s left wondering what you want to show him, “What can I see?”

Your heart jumps into your throat. He had no idea and here he was going to take a hasty kiss as enough. You weren’t though after the years of misunderstanding. Now you found a language you could talk to him in.

“Let me show you, what to do,” You look at the hand pressed against his chest. The toned muscles underneath as wonderful to touch as you imagined. Licking your lips you struggle to keep your composure as the need to be the role model came before all else, “Let me teach you about sex and....I’ll guarantee you’ll be the best at it. Promise.”

Nothing but humming taking over any thoughts he had. Just like every time he caught a glimpse down his manager’s shirt. It was the same body tingling hum Ushiwaka got from that as well. Without an idea what to do or say it was Korai’s brash words that came to mind. He told him to always say yes to a lady if she mentioned sex. And looking down at you. The fact sex and the dip in your shirt were right there in front of him. Ushiwaka understood he had to say yes.

“Yes.” He found his eyes locked in on your clevage again. This time it was hard not to be when you pressed your body up against him, “...Yes please.”

Goosebumps prickled over every inch of you. The way your loins aches was unreal. You hadn’t been this giddy and horny since you were a teenager. Quickly to seal the deal you meet his mouth again. This time taking it a bit slower. Until you put your arms up around the back of his neck and pulled him into you, “...lesson one, kissing.” You brush your lips against his and hum, “Kiss me back and follow my lead.”

That was hard. First it was just him pressing harder into your lips than you were into his. When your lips parted though and your tongue grazed his bottom lip is when Ushiwaka dialed it back to truly let you take the lead.

With the sweet taste of his lips on your own. Wrestling for dominance over the kiss was nothing. Seconds in and you had your tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as he at least got the hint to bring his hands up to your sides. Not much but it was something. Ushiwaka was at least trying to take more in the sloppy kiss than he had when you first kissed him.

Finally when you pull back for a breath. It’s more than obvious the tent in his jersey shorts. If his untouched lips tasted this good. Could the rest of him be as delicious.

“Sometimes....” You started slowly, drawing a hand down his neck and peppering his collar bone with kisses, “We use our mouths to kiss more than just lips.”

“Like necks?” Ushiwaka, though holding a steady tone still, was gripping your sides even harder. Outwardly he wouldn’t let on but his body was reacting magically to your touch.

“Necks...” You murmur against his and trail down, “Chests...Stomachs....Private areas.”

Pushing him to sit. Perhaps a smart choice if he’s never experienced it before. You kneel between the wing spiker’s legs. Bringing yourself close to his clothed cock as it stood at attention for you and only you. Of course you lick your lips.

Untouched. Unsoiled. All for you to taste.

Your palms rub against his thighs. Finally the first normal sign he was enjoying himself as Ushiwaka’s moan was dampened by the fight to keep it down. His eyes shut tight and chest heaving a little. You smile as you bring your face close to his groin, “Don’t keep it in....that’s the part of the fun.”

This was true in fact when your lips pressed to the clothed underside of his cock. A deep throaty groan leaving the man. You could smell his precum through his shorts. At this rate you knew to thread carefully less he blow the second your fingers encircled him. And desperately did you wanna taste that cum.

Careful to free his cock from his shorts. You take a moment to not believe this man is a virgin with the length he is packing. Long, girthy, and a sight to be hold. Your mouth begins watering not just at the idea of him being untouched. But at the beautiful cock before you.

“I’m going to touch you....so I can get it in my mouth,” You don’t lie about the showing him thing. Deliberate in your movements. Hands touching up his thick thighs. Until finally the moment of truth. Your fingers curling around his base as Ushiwaka groaned unable to stay quite like he hoped.

The wonderful musk of his precum. And the sight of him nearly shaking in his seat. You could feel your slick coating your cunt lips and threatening to really ruin your panties. Patience was needed though. If you were going to teach him properly.

“Do you wanna look at my tits while I suck you off?” You offer. Eyes shut but he had spent so long staring at them you couldn’t keep them clothed.

Ushiwaka’s green eyes open, contrasting the red tint to his face, and he looks down at your chest so close to his cock, “...yes, yes I would.”

Wasting no time you let go of him just to peel your top off. A reward for him like the blowjob you were about to give him wasn’t enough.

You press your breasts into his thighs. The warmth of your chest sending a shiver up the man’s spine. Nothing compared to the way your hand felt gripping his cock though. Not the slightest idea how delightful his cock was either. So when you finally made a glutton of yourself and swallowed only about two thirds of his cock up. Well, Ushiwaka thought that was just a moment of heaven on earth.

The warmth of your cheeks wet and velvety. Enveloping his cock like nothing his hand could do. Even in his wildest ideas he never conjured up the idea this is what it would feel like. It was near too much.

You cheeks hallow as you struggle to take all of him. Desperate though. You press more into your mouth as your tongue works over time. Loving the sight as his head tips back and lips part slightly. Finally something you could read from him.

Eager to taste more you bob your head up and down on his cock. Sucking like your life depended on it. His precum soiling your tongue just as your juices seeped into your panties. Even the tingle of your tits pressed to his thighs was turning you on. Seeing him above you, gripping the edge of the bench and heated expression ruining that stoic look. It certainly was something you could get use to.

But no for long. Maybe not even five minutes in and you felt the jerking twitch of his cock. Faster than even you anticipated. It didn’t keep you from pulling your lips off his cock. Instead you wanted it more.

Eyes locked up on his face. Lips slurping what of him you could while your hand moved with you to jerk him off. Ushiwaka had no idea what to do with his hands or what to even say. The way you looked at him left him frozen as the undeniable need to cum finally was too much.

Warm spurts of cum filled your mouth. Before you were ready so some of the precious treat leaked from your cheeks. A choke and a sputter when you couldn’t keep up with the cum load he was giving you. Almost missing the guttural, almost whiny, moan that left the man above you. Face twisted in pleasure. It drove you to suck him dry of all that cum he was feeding you in his pathetic excuse for stamina. He really was a virgin.

Finally with the taste of his cum on your lips as you cleaned his cock off for every last drop. You look up at the mess of a man and smile. Certainly the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him in two years. You find it easy to believe he wasn’t going to back out of this sex education arrangement now.

Making your way back up his chest. Hands drawing up his toned muscles until you were at eye level with him. You gently press your lips against his. Not too much. Not ready to overwhelm him with the taste of his own cum. But enough that he does figure to lean into you and wrap his arms around the exact spot he did before.

“Do you want me to teach you?” You mumble against his lips.

That same swallow from before. Now though he was a little dazed looking at you as the warmth of your skin was something entirely new, “Yes.”

The want in his voice makes you grin, “What do you want me to teach you?”

“Everything. I want you to teach me everything.”

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