#written by junk💋

[sukunasstomachtongue]

The Race: Lap Two

Pairing: Sukuna x Bunny (black fem OC)

Rating: Mature | Minors leave me alone

Warning: Cursing, houseless character, light smut that I couldn’t follow through on, OOC Sukuna (don’t say anything I need comfort), my brand of humor, barely edited

Series Masterlist | Previously

“Well, if it isn’t little bunbun. Why are you here? Got fired for being a bad role model to the youth?” Gojo shifted his weight to rest his elbows on the counter. The harsh fluorescent lighting all government-funded buildings had washed out his complexion, yet he still managed to look nothing short of ethereal to Bunny.

She tsk’d, a habit of her boyfriend that she unfortunately picked up. How she managed to quietly slam the book in her possession closed would be a mystery to Gojo.

“If you’re not here to clear your debt, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, Gojo. Technically you’re not even ‘sposed to be allowed within 20 meters of our doors.”

Both individuals refused to break eye contact, waiting for the other to chicken out and avert their gaze. Bunny had to fight off her signature sinister grin, the one she displays in the backstreets while riding shotgun in a barely street-legal car. No, she had to save that smile for the right time and place. The local public library barely surviving and on its last two legs hardly fit the criteria.

She gave him what Shoko called her ‘librarian smile.’ Kind and sickeningly sweet, giving the impression that she had all the time in the world to help a patron in need.

Gojo conceded after a few seconds of being on the receiving end of that smile. Her brown eyes glinted with victory.

“What if I did come to pay off my debt, hm? I can stay?” Bunny said nothing but went to work on her computer, lazily tapping the tablet on the patron side of the counter, prompting the man to move and look at the information displayed.

Gojo, Satoru

Amount Paid: $3.86

Amount Due: $834.98

Will you be paying: Cash, Credit/Debit Card, or Check?

“Fuck me, Bunbun! This is insane! What type of operation are you running?” Gojo groaned into his hands, ignoring the harsh glares aimed his way for his loud voice. Long nails tapped rhythmically against the keyboard, before clutching the side of the monitor and swinging it around to show more of his account.

“You have a bad habit of renting movies and never returning them. You rented ‘Return of the Mask’ and ‘Belly’ five years ago. Should I ask why those two movies were rented at the same time?”

Her taunts only drew more groans from his throat. Quickly slapping his face, Gojo reaches into his pocket, grumbling about unsuccessful hookups and drunken mistakes. The slam of his plastic card made no impact on Bunny. As quickly as he presented it, the librarian ran it through the system, clearing his debt.

“You know, now that you’re clear we can take down your mugshot on the bulletin board. Wanna take it home?”

The wide grin was all the answer she needed.

***

“Bunny, we need to restock our hygiene packs tonight. Glen said we’re down to five and it's only getting hotter out there.”

“I’ll get on it after I take my break.” She replied, busy logging books back into the system. After Gojo left, the library returned to its usual hushed business. Citizens came and went through the automatic door, focused on their own tasks.

Filling out job applications, playing computer games, writing an essay, meeting up for study sessions, and inquiring about citizenship classes, the library serves as a vital organ in the community. Its value is what made Bunny want to work there in the first place. All her tasks served a purpose for the greater good.

That’s what she had to tell herself to not lose her mind and go ballistic on the inconsiderate patrons and lazy coworkers.

Those hygiene packs were a task given to Glen, who passed it to Asano, who decided to drop it in Bunny’s lap before leaving for the day. Granted, at this location, Bunny didn’t have the authority or sway to go against an order.

Still, Bunny gritted her teeth and got to it like she said she would. The supply room had a table and old worn-out chair that could have been from the 70s, providing a workstation to build the packs. They were nothing lavish. A few water bottles, dental care, deodorant, a towel, new socks, and other necessities to ease the constant dingy feeling of being unhoused and exposed to the elements and the city’s unpleasant side.

She got into a grove after the first two packs were done, head bopping to city pop that fought the static out of the old radio in the corner to be audible. Every few packs, her neck would tilt to the side to lightly stretch the stiff muscles there. When she reached for the last pair of socks, her stomach grumbled. The few snacks she stole from the vending machine were not enough to tie her over until dinner.

Would Sukuna make his rendition of her grandmother’s red beans and rice tonight?

Thoughts now focused on food and related topics, she unchecked the box next to ‘socks’ on the supply list on their worn board. Hands full with the large bin they used to transport the packs outside, Bunny made her way outdoors.

In his earlier years, Glen had old lockers from a high school repurposed to look presentable along the inside of the exterior wall. They stood under the protruding concrete covering, shielded from harh weather conditions, visible from the central help desk inside where someone could keep an eye out. Opposite of the lockers was a poster from the early 70s, faded but still legible, inviting everyone inside to access resources everyone needed in the modern age.

For the last few hours of her shift, Bunny led story time in the children’s section, several coming from the school she worked at which led to many tears of joy and anger directed at her by children who were not happy to see her absent that day. Ending the story time with a nice group hug and a promise to return to her rightful post had her back in their good graces.

From there, she remained stationed at the help desk, offering book suggestions and recommendations to classes the library offered to the colorful clientel. The short hand on the clock had begun nearing 5, signaling the end of her time here. Making her rounds, Bunny waved her goodbye to the others as she walked to the back to retrieve her purse.

Stepping outside the automatic doors, the sight infront of her made her pause to confirm the person digging a pack out of the outdoor lockers was who she thought it was.

“Yuji?”

***

Dropping her bag on the table, Bunny released a loud sigh. Her shoulders ached after hours of shelving new and returned books all day. The local library had a much larger stock than the one at the schoolhouse, with more genres outside of children and young adult. It had been her first challenging shift in a long time, not including the last hour.

The smell of garlic invaded her nose, making the muscles flex as the button of her nose scrunched up. There was no reason for something out of season to smell so pungent.

“Come here and taste this broth, I’m not sure if I added enough paste.” There, with one hand tucked into the tie of his apron with the other clutching the ladle above the pot, stood her boyfriend, hard at work trying to feed them. The sight warmed her heart.

The onions brought tears to her eyes.

The surprise she had in store for Sukuna sent shivers down her spine.

“Suki…” He grunted and twisted at his waist to look back. Before she could open her mouth to continue, the hot ladle was at her lips waiting for entry. The tip of her pink tongue dipped in the liquid, coating her tastebuds with flavor.

“Good. Could use some lemon or citrus for some tang.” Sukuna eyed her with thought, taking her suggestion as he slurped the remaining broth, smacking his mouth to extract any hidden flavor.

“No. That’ll mess up the balance. This is why we can’t cook together.”

“We can’t cook together because you like to hog the front right burner.”

“It’s the best one.”

“It’s the biggest one and is supposed to be used for big pots, not frying a single egg.” Bunny grimaced as her shoulder tinged in pain, the already tired nerves becoming more agitated as she danced around her surprise. Just like a bandaid, Bunny coached herself. “ Suki-”

“Agree to disagree. Why are you wincing? Got into another fight with that old hag?”

“Fortunately no. She learned her lesson the last time.” Or maybe not like a bandaid at all, maybe like removing shrapnel from a wound. Nice and slow, and gently to not lacerate any nearby blood vessels.

“Good. I know you want to be a lady of leisure but right now we still need your income. Unless you wanna end up on the streets like that brat.” Or maybe not like a bandaid or like shrapnel. Instead, just like a rug being ripped from under her orthopedic loafers.

“Come on Yuji, he knows.” At her beckon, the pink-haired kid slid into the kitchen, back against the nearest wall. His arm was in a dingy cast and he looked weary. “How’d you know?”

An exasperated sigh came from the stove, followed by a slurp, hum, and finally, the click of the burner being switched from high to medium.

“My sweet stupid Bunny, did you already forget that we installed cameras last month? Set the table. And you, brat. Sit down and get ready to tell us everything.”

As she followed his demand, Bunny fell even more in love with her boyfriend.

****

Sukuna, Yuji decided after smelling the first decent meal he’s been given in three months, was not as bad as everyone on the scene said he was. Sure he had a temper and really didn't care for the community of street racing like most did - like Yuji did after losing his grandfather- but it didn’t make him a horrible person. In a way, Sukuna was on the other side of the same coin as Nanami. They both were serious about their chosen illegal interest but also had a life outside of it. Nanami with his day job, and Sukuna with-

“Fucking Martha decided she wanted to flirt with Geshin instead of completing her tasks. So guess who had to cover her thirsty ass instead of making the itinerary for the career workshop that’s happening in a week?”

“You?”

“Me. I wanted to cuss the bitch out for pulling that shit but I’m scared she might have a degradation kink or something. Y’know last employee evaluation I swear to god that hoe had stars in her eyes when Boss yelled at her about her performance.” Bunny ranted as her hands set the table, paying no mind to the opening notes of pork being cooked.

“Geshin… that's the guy who just had a baby, right?”

“Yep, and that’s his fifth baby this year. Man needs to get locked up at this point. He’s trying to become the next Genghis Khan. I don’t know why Martha would want his ass when she was just at his last baby shower. Eating that dry-ass cake like Betty Crocker made it.”

“Damn, that’s crazy.” At his commentary, she cut her eyes to look at the back of his head.

“What did you do today?” The roar of the pork being seared and fat popping against the heat of the pan set the ambiance in their kitchen.

“Nothing. Worked on my jobs, bought some shit online, got a call from the old man for the next race.”

“Oh yeah? When and where?”

“Next Weekend. It's a collab with some other organizers in the outskirts. The track is legit.” Calloused hands worked swiftly to cut the pork into manageable pieces while Bunny opened the kitchen window to air out the smoky atmosphere building up. Sukuna scoffed at the action, he thought Bunny was overdramatic for opening the window every time he cooked using fire.

He had a house, a business, someone to come home and compare days to, Yuji watched. It was a shock to him and anyone on the scene if they found out, except Gojo he assumed. Gojo poked and prodded at Sukuna like an old zookeeper who’s been tending to the same wild animal for decades.

“Next week?” Bunny pouted, the table was finally set with everything but the protein. She sat next to Yuji, still facing her significant other as they rambled on. Briefly, Yuji wondered if he took the older man’s seat, but made no move to relocate when Bunny began pouring water for three cups and opening a bottle of wine to pour into two glasses.

“I know, you have that convention.” For the first time all night, Sukuna looked at the kid at his dinner table. He looked hungry and noticeably thinner than the last time he was seen before that race. His arm had been set in a cast that took on a reddish-earthy brown. Their hair had the same disheveled look, but for two different reasons.

Briefly, the two males shared a thought.

Are we related, they thought to each other, with Bunny none the wiser as she placed portions on their plates.

“Thanks for the food.”

Yuji had not finished closing his mouth around the first bite before the older man probed him.

“Alright brat, start talking.”

Shifting the hot pork to the side of his mouth, Yuji spoke. “Got pulled out the car and an ambulance took me to the hospital. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived without any serious injuries. The only thing I really injured was my wallet.”

“They say we’re all one emergency from being homeless,” Sukuna muttered. Yuji took a stab at another piece of greasy steaming pork. Bunny quietly placed more food on the kid’s plate.

“They were right. I don’t have a dollar to my name. My car got compounded. No family. This is the first meal I’ve had this week.”

“Oh Yuji…” At her sorrowed tone, Sukuna’s lip pulled in one direction. Good thing they never threw out her old futon.

***

“What a day,” followed by a long yawn was how Bunny started her night routine. Stepping into the shower to wash away the past eighteen hours, she let out another loud yawn to emphasize her energy levels to Sukuna who stood at the vanity, completing his skincare routine.

No funny business tonight.

“I bet. On top of your job, now you want to become a mother.”

“Not a mother. A helping hand, that’s all. A fun auntie at most. Yuji is only 16, too young to be on the streets.” the shower door slid down its track, wide enough to allow another body to slip in behind her. Rough hands sheltered her shoulders from the water, radiating heat through the layers of melanin-rich skin.

“You and your bleeding heart. I can’t even begin to understand how you end up in these situations. He better not steal shit out of my office.” Sukuna talked, hands massaging along the muscles of her neck. Bunny sighed in relief, her lazy bun hitting the top of his pectorals as she relaxed.

“He’s a good kid. On the train, he basically sat between me and everyone else like a guard dog.” Her body wash added the mellow scent of cucumber melon to the humid air. As her sudsy cloth scrubbed her skin, her ass nudged the lazy weight of Sukuna’s dick.

“Oh, so thats what this is? You wanna take in a stray, huh? Thats it. Is this about the cat from last week? I know you were sad when it went back to its owner but you-”

A sharp about face interrupted his ribbing. Sukuna suddenly found it hard to concentrate with a steaming soapy woman clouding his retinas. Fuck Martha and Geishin and every single person at the stupid library for tiring his girlfriend out with their bullshit. She probably wouldn’t even take a simple cockwarming session with her energy so low.

“C’mon, Kuna. Be serious. Tell me you would have left him on the street looking like that?”

“I could have.” A glare had Sukuna retract his statement. Lifting a hand from her frame to wipe the droplets from his face, he ceded. “I get it. Fine, lets take the kid in for a bit, until he’s back on his feet.”

A downpour of water thudded at their feet as Bunny wrong out her cloth. Adding his soap, unscented for sensitive skin, she began working a lather on his abs. “He can help you in the shop.”

“Mmm, no. Sorry Bunny. This is your stray, your responsibility. Ask ‘im if he ever finished school. Get him a GED or some shit.”

“Like trade school.”

“Fuck, go ahead and adopt the kid.” The couple fell quiet after that. Sukana placed a few kisses on her temple when they took turns standing underwater to rinse. His hands slid down her skin and rested for a beat on the sides of her asscheeks. This was intimacy. Pulling her cheeks apart to let the water wash any trapped soap was the most intimate shit he’s ever down.

A ding from the towel warmer signaled the end of their shower. Before she could reach to turn the water off, Sukuna had pressed her against his body, their flesh conforming to each other. His dick twitched awake as he inhaled her scent. Cucumber melon, warmth, and smell that was purely her. He couldn't help but land a few kisses and nips along her neck as the water continued to spray.

The water bill would definitely be in the triple digits this month, much to Bunny’s chagrin.

“Y’so tense, Bunny. I think you need a massage.” He huffed into her ear, finally ready to turn off the water. The sudden cold goaded her into pressing herself tighter against her significant other, seeking more external warmth.

“Mm, that sounds nice.”

“C’mon pet, lets get you dry, huh?” Together, they exited the shower, steam spilling at their feet. Bunny detached from him and lazily bounced over the warm towels, wrapping one around herself and bringing the other to Sukuna to wrap around his hips.

“Go lay on the bed, pet. I’ll get the body oil.”

***

“Oh fuck, Kuna. Thank you, baby!” She moaned into the cotton sheets, her breath caught on the last syllable and making her high-pitched at the end. Sukuna’s hands were strong from his day job, and all the strength was being used on her, working knots and stagnant energy out her muscles. He had her belly down, with his thick thighs trapping her torso under his straddle. His fingers dug into the flesh of her upper back, bullying the blood up towards her neck and down her arms.

“Welcome baby. I gotta take care of you since you insist on taking care of that brat. You were already tired before. You gotta stop that bleeding heart of yours.” Sukuna let his drool drip freely on her oiled back, making the trip every few minutes to collect the saliva and massage it into her pores.

His dick was no better, beading at the tip and collecting in the small of her back. Bunny could feel it. He knew she could feel. She knew he knew she could feel it. Though her libido was rising to the occasion, her body yearned for rest. True rest. But she was too tired to dissuade Sukuna. Hell, as long as she didn’t have to ride she wouldn’t protest all that much.

His hands moved from her upper back back to her hips and the swell of her ass. Her skin gleaned under the big light. Under his touch, the oil, saliva, and cum mixed to create a new concoction.

“Oh fuck, bunny. I know you feel me.” He groaned as he bucked his hips, his dick sliding along the crack of her ass.

“I do but- I’m so tired, Kunabear.” the shake of her hips contradicted her words. Soft lips planted scorching kisses on her tattooed shoulder and warm hands moved from her ass to slide under her hips. “And, Yuji might hear us.”

“So just spread those pretty legs, toot that ass up for me, and bite down on a pillow so the kid doesn’t hear his savior getting fucked.” His fingers ran up her slit, collecting the escaped slick to rub against her clit. “Shit,” his hips bucked again, mindlessly rutting his dick against her oiled flesh. “Always wet for me, no matter what your mouth says, that pussy will always listen to me.”

“I-ah, fuck me. Here, damn.” Her hip rose as she arched her back perfectly. With more space to move, Sukuna trailed to her opening, keeping his thumb on her aching nub. A whine escaped her throat. He fingered her frantically, barely prepping her hole to take his heavy cock. “Gimma a kiss at least”

“How about ten?”

***

Bunny stared at the fresh coffee dripping down into the pot. Her body was enveloped in the robe Gojo got her from his last trip overseas. It was nice and fluffy and the cause of Sukuna’s hairy eyeball from across the room. It took everything in her to not laugh at him angrily stabbing his breakfast quiche.

“Don’t give me that look.” She scoffed. Her boyfriend rolled his eyes, too tired to start shit with a sleep deprived Bunny.

“Just make me a cup too. Gotta finish a couple projects today so I need to head out in a few. You going anywhere today?”

“No. I’ll be doing laundry and picking up after your mess.”

“That’s you hair in the drain baby. Don’t put that shit on me.” As they went back and forth, the stairs creaked under the weight of a body coming downstairs.

“Morning. Coffee?” Bunny offered him before yuji stepped foot into the kitchen. His eyes pingponged between the two adults before nodding, giving a grunted hello as he sat down at the same chair as last night.

Bunny busied herself with pouring three mugs, concocting hers and Sukuna with their usual cream and sugars. At the sight of Yuji’s eyebags, her hands reached out for the pot again to pour a little more into his mug.

She dispersed the mugs, keeping hers in one hand and digging the other in Sukuna’s wild hair. Wordlessly, he offered her a piece of his quiche.

“Sleep okay? I know the futon is old and seen better days?” She asked her ward. Yuji gave a brief shake of his head. He barely let the coffee cool before tilting half of the liquid down his throat.

“Futon’s fine. You guys were loud.”

Sukuna had to place his mug back on the table to avoid spilling it at the brat’s words. Red eyes attempted to meet his girlfriend’s but she had her head turned down to avoid any contact.

Yuji wanted to apologize for his comment, which was actually an understatement. From Yuji’s perspective last night, he’s surprised Bunny was fully functional today.

He could see why Gojo talked so much perverted shit about the woman. Megumi let it slip once that Gojo had a chance to get with the sassy librarian but Sukuna swooped in at the last second.

“Close your ears next time.” Bunny choked out, swooping down to take another piece of the quiche before leaving the kitchen, fluffy robe flouncing in the air.

The two males sat in silence, the sound of Sukuna scrapping the last of his breakfast up filling the void.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t give a rat's ass if you hear.” Sukuna replied, collecting his dishes and sipping the last of his coffee. “We do fuck loud and often. So if that’s a problem you should probably leave now.”

Yuji grimaced. He and Sukuna both knew putting up with a little noise was infinitely better than sleeping outside again.

“Bunny, I’m out!” Sukuna yelled, his rough voice reverberating through the room to wherever his girlfriend ran too. His keys were in his pocket and he was almost out the door before she responded.

“Take ‘im with you!” The men looked at each other again. Sukuna scanned the kid up and down, eyeing Yuji’s build and hands before grunting.

“You ever worked on cars?”

“Yeah. I can do the basics.” Yuji offered, hurriedly stuffing his feet into his shoes by the door.

“Yeah, well you’ll be doing filter changes and refilling wiper fluid. Let’s go.”

#written by junk💋 #black reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x black reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x oc #sukuna x black oc #jjk fanfic #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #sukuna smut #sukuna hcs #sukuna simp #fast and furious #sukuna is dom but not really #yuji itadori #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #yuji is sweetest boy #yuji x reader #big sis reader #fun auntie reader

[joonie7007]

WHAT IN THE TARNATION

HOE COULD IT END LIKE DISS

Ik im probably saying spoilers and junk but how they sliced his neck meat ACK-!!!??

AYOOOOO !?

Idk what to say I’m still in shock ( did it end like that in the book?/ or maybe it’s the ppl who didn’t finish updating it?/ is it still being written??) I NEED ANSWERS NEOOOWWW

The only thing that scared me from this was this crazy dude (when I first saw it I was like ain’t no way a demon spirit coming to school but it’s a real person!? H-H-HELL NAWWWW🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️❓

AND THIS LIKE WHY U STARING ME BIG OL EYES BOII

Now my day is ruined. I hope they didn’t leave it like that and are working on it properly also the art sheeeesh chefs kiss Mwa 😌😼💋‼️‼️

Me finishing the summer hikaru died on a Wednesday morning 11:24am

#random #male x male #the summer hikaru died #yoshiki #what should I do ? #goodnight punpun #next probably

[balladofsallyrose]

for the album ask: Generation Terrorists

thanks flo 💗 re-listening to the album again and again is a must, especially when answering this question!! 

send me an album and i’ll put the tracks in order from most → least favourite

✨💋 generation terrorists 🌹✨

motown junk

little baby nothing

love's sweet exile

motorcycle emptiness

stay beautiful

slash 'n' burn

you love us

crucifix kiss

methadone pretty

condemned rock 'n' roll

nat west-barclays-midlands-lloyds

born to end

damn dog

so dead

spectators of suicide

another invented disease

tennessee

repeat (UK)

repeat (stars & stripes)

overall thoughts:💄✨

This album is full of BANGERS!! its hard to order the songs as this album is full of spray paint, diy, punk slogans and lipstick kisses!! motown junk will always be a JAM!! little baby nothing's lyrics are so poetic and beautifully written despite being about female prostitution. The opening of love's sweet exile with nicky brother's poetry - yes!! such a epic song!! exile & you love us will always be sister songs 💖✨ motorcycle emptiness 🔥!! slash ‘n’ burn 🔥!! 

i've always found with the song repeat - the live versions were always better!! there was more of a punk style and of a slow build up to it. The stars and stripes version is too overproduced and never really felt it worked well with the rest of the album.

[sukunasstomachtongue]

Boss: Prelude

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Tiny (black fem OC); Rod Reiss x Tiny

Rating: R | Minors DNI

Warnings: infidelity, cursing, sexual conversation

Part 1: Boss

Tiny began to hate her marriage after the first ten days.

She had low expectations walking into the marriage, as most young women do when they are arranged to marry men over twice their age for nothing but the financial gain of a coldhearted father. She was a pawn on a chessboard for a game that has been going on for longer than she’d been alive. 

Whatever business her father and Rod Reiss had with one another had nothing to do with her personally, yet the rivalry influenced every sector of her life. Where she attended school, what she wore, how big her celebrations were, the type of car she had to drive, all decisions made by her father to one-up Rod Reiss. 

The only good thing that came from the affluent version of a pissing contest was the strong bond she had with Historia, Rod Reiss’s youngest child, and Tiny’s oldest friend. Pre and post-wedding their friendship never wavered, both knowing the best way through this mess was bare it until the right moment came to make a run for it. The pair were so close to securing their independence when the marriage agreement slapped them in the face.

Then she met Levi.

Ask any of the men in her life, and they would all call him a lowly thing, only good for menial physical labor that their overfed and spoiled asses couldn’t dream of doing. But Tiny knew differently. She could see it in the way he accomplished any task asked of him with a gleam in his eye that could make the devil scream. 

Suddenly her days in the Reiss Manor became bearable, armed with the knowledge that wherever she walked, Levi would be somewhere on the property with her, minding his business and completing his tasks. Tiny found her brain stalled several times a day after catching just a glimpse of his short yet powerful stature. 

He worked with a small crew, a group of ten a most, all meandering the lot to accomplish individual tasks. The one time she saw them all together was during their lunch break, under the shade of a large oak tree. Eating their fill, the group would smoke and joke around, pushing each other and letting loose curses that they kept suppressed while working. Levi didn’t talk much, but when he did the rest of his crew would shut up to listen. 

They didn’t talk about the Reiss’s all that much, or any rich folk for that matter. A throwaway remark here or there while telling a story, no names dropped but everyone seemed to understand who exactly was being discussed. Tiny was quick to catch on to the alias for Rod.

Boss. 

Not particularly creative in the slightest except for how they all enunciated the ‘b’ in the word.  Levi didn’t speak about Rod much, he left that for the youngins in his crew. He’d smoked his cigarette and let out a laugh or two as they cursed her husband for whatever grief he gave them. 

The only person outside the crew Levi would talk about was her. It took Tiny a minute to figure out who they were referring to when they said that name. 

Princess. 

Tiny thought they were referring to Historia or the other Reiss women that frequented the manor, but the crew called them different variations of ‘miss’. She was princess, the way she found out was the day she went for a swim in the pool during the same time Connie had finished cleaning it out. 

Later while getting the mail, she heard it.

“Saw princess today jump in the water, almost nutted in my shorts.”

“Lucky. Did you see her come out of it? I’d kill to see her dripping water.”

 “I saw her get dressed one time in front of the window. Boss must not be fucking her because she didn’t have a mark on her.”

“You ever seen her in the gym? Way too much for Boss, no way he’s keeping up with her.”

The group continued to discuss her, unaware of her proximity. Talking over one another, only shutting up when Levi opened his mouth to share his opinion. 

“If I had her, she wouldn’t be able to leave the bed and walk around the house like she does.”

She took that statement and ran to the bank with it. Immediately called Historia and put a plan in motion. She started small. 

Small, not subtle. 

First, she had to bend the world to her will. It only took a couple of statements at the right time. 

“Who cleaned the pool this time?”

“Levi, Mrs. Reiss.”

“Can you make sure he does it from now on, I’ve never seen it so clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Reiss.”

“Thank you, Erwin. Please pass on my compliments.”

“Princess wants you to clean the pool from now on, Levi. Said it was the cleanest she ever saw it.”

“Course it is, I did it.” 

“Maybe you keep that up and she’ll have you cleaning something else?”

Step one, complete. 

Step two was to build a repertoire.  Every three days, Levi would come to the pool to clean it. The first few times, she waved and gave a cheeky smile which he responded with a cool nod, acknowledging her as his Boss’s wife and nothing more. Tiny did her best to leave an impression, wearing the skimpiest thong bikinis in her arsenal. Taking the extra minute to exaggerate her exit from the pool, making sure her near nip slips were always in his eyesight.  

Then she stepped it up with a pot of tea to share as the late fall heat finally cooled down to early winter temperature. As the outdoor pool went into hiding under the pool cover, the indoor pool became in more need of upkeep. Like clockwork, every week Levi would make the journey into the house to clean the indoor pool, unknowingly fueling Tiny’s fantasy as his upper body worked to clean the filters and maintain the water’s clearness. 

“I don’t know if Erwin told you, but I just want to thank you for keeping the pool so clean. I heard you had a taste for tea, so I decided to make you a pot to thank you.”

Levi paused on his way out of the room, face blank as he took in the words. The smell of properly brewed earl grey filled his nostrils, his shoulders sagged as they released tension. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Reiss.”

“Please, Mrs. Reiss was my predecessor. Call my Tiny.” She waited until he had a mouthful of tea to continue. “Or princess. “

Levi didn’t choke or spit out his tea, the quirk of his eyebrow was enough of a reaction to tell Tiny he knew she knew what the crew had been talking about during their lunches. 

“Princess, huh? Are you sure you want me to call you that? Someone might get the wrong idea if they heard that." 

“Or the right one.”

“Which would be?”

“That we’re fucking, Levi.”

“We aren’t.”

“That could change. If you want.”

#levi ackerman x black reader #levi smut #levi x reader #aot levi #written by junk💋 #black reader #levi ackerman #aot x y/n #levi x black oc #levi x black reader #levi ackerman x reader

[sukunasstomachtongue]

"He Put out an Ad?"

~Hey my darlings, Let's cut to the chase and post part 6 of We FLock together. I'm truly excited to post this, the last part was kinda filler. Now we gettin into some shit.

Series Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Dove (black OC)

Rating: PG-13; warnings: obsessive Bruce Wayne, plotting Bruce Wayne, silk press getting caught in the rain; cursing, barely edited.

Taglist [OPEN]: @prettyvintageafternoon @zennydaye @lalaooopsie @leahnicole121919

Bruce watched behind his cowl as dilated brown eyes became glazed with tears. Dried specks of blood had been splattered on the side of her head. If he hadn’t met with her two days ago to slurp down oysters at the newest restaurant in Gotham, he would have never believed the puffy mane on her head used to be straight. 

“Batman? Please, don’t hurt me…” A shrill voice called out, and oh, how it pained the man behind the mask to hear. As if he could ever hurt her, his sweet Dove. But he couldn’t let her know that. Batman doesn’t show compassion for criminals. Even someone like her, with a fearful expression and trembling body. Like a lone bird grounded by a broken wing. Later he would explain, over coffee at that diner she took him to, that Batman does what’s necessary for the public. 

For now, he had a job to do. 

His heavy shoes crunched on the discarded newspapers, stepping over unconscious bodies and pools of diluted blood. The tears in her eyes fell over her lower lid and blended in seamlessly with the raindrops hitting her brown skin. 

“Don’t, please! I’m not with them! Stay- Stay away!” Uncoordinated limbs attempted to move her out of his reach. Dove looked up at the vigilante. She’s never seen Batman in person, but the stories her customers told her about how intimidating he could be rang true. Her mind couldn’t direct her body to move, there was nowhere to hide. The pickup scheduled tonight has been ruined, and the dripping woman could swear her ears were hearing the sound of police sirens. 

Guess who’s going to jail tonight? 

The darkness of the suit worked in his favor, and soon Dove found herself flat on her back looking into the lens of his eye cover. “What are you doing here? What’s your business with Joker?”

“Nothing, nothin’. I promise I’m not a criminal. I’ve never even stolen from the self-checkout. Please don’t hurt me!” The taste of Gotham rainwater saturated her mouth with bitterness. Still, she spoke loud and clear, unwilling to give him an ounce of doubt in her innocence. 

The dark knight leaned further until they were a breath apart. She still smelt like how she did last time he saw her. His hands yearned to skim her body, the clothes she wore already glued to her frame, exposing curves he had only dreamed of prior. Focus, Bruce. 

“I won’t have to hurt you if you tell me the truth of why you’re here.” At the sound of her whimper, Bruce leaned back just slightly. Like a weight off her stomach, Dove sucked in air for all she was worth. “Don’t make this difficult. If you don’t tell me, I can promise the GCPD won’t be any kinder.”

“It’s just clothes. I-” Her heart pounded and her head felt fuzzy. This was all too much for her to deal with. A lone woman, out in the rain, with Gotham City’s fiercest defender on top of her. “Didn’t do nothing.”

He waited for her to elaborate. When her mouth didn’t open again, Bruce felt the ice-cold rain run down his back. A dark gloved hand lifted her neck to get a response. Her head fell back, Dove was no longer conscious to support herself. 

“Fuck.”

---- ----

“When you said ‘it’s just clothes’ what did you mean by that, Miss CartWright?” The detective probed. When Dove awoke from her unintended slumber, her wrists were cuffed and chained to the lone table in the room. This was an interrogation room. She’s seen the setup before in tv and movies, never did she think she would also experience them in person. 

“I said what?”

“When Batman apprehended you last night. He claims you said ‘it’s just clothes’ after he inquired about your connection to the Joker.” Long lashes fluttered, her mind racing and trying to catch up to her current situation.

“I meant that I’m just the supplier for his costumes. Well, all their costumes.”

“Uhm, What? Please explain.” The cop leaned back against the mirror, a two-way she thought. Clearing her throat, Dove pondered her next words carefully. She wasn’t a snitch, not against Gotham’s biggest menace. All she had to do was clear her name and pray they let her go without further interrogation. She would chirp as much as she needed to avoid a jail sentence. But if worse came to worse, she would sooner sew her lips shut with her strongest thread than snitch and end up on Joke’s shit list. 

“I’m a seamstress. You probably already knew that.” With a nod, the suspect continued. “I have an apprenticeship with Tailor Spinelli. It pays, but not enough. So I make the costumes and uniforms for Joker and his gang. Pays well. I don’t have to take up a second job or sell feet pics to men on the internet.” 

“Are you serious?” Her nose flared at the dubious tone in the detective’s voice. With a hard glare, she met the man’s eyes. 

“You think Joker is getting those purple suits off the rack? Or that he has his goons buying their matching outfits off the web in bulk? I’m serious.”

“Okay. Now how did you end up in this arrangement? He put out an ad?” The more the pig talked, the angrier her tone became.

“No. Miss Harley did.”

“Alright, enough bullshit. Tell me the truth.” Dove felt her temper rise and she had to fight to get a hold of it. Slamming the table and shaking her binds, she spat it out for the last time. 

“I told you the truth. I’m the Joker’s seamstress.”

His focus left the video in his hands and traveled to the smoking law enforcer. Letting out a cloud of tobacco, Gordon reached out to ask for the footage back. 

“Far as I can tell, she’s telling the truth. So why is she still in custody?”

“Miss Cartwright knew of illegal activity and knowingly associated herself with criminals. That’s enough to keep her at the station and guarantee a trial. We have a warrant to search her apartment.”

“She’s the closest connection we have to Joker right now, had in months,” Gordan admitted to the dark knight. Bruce frowned. The thought of someone he cherished being behind bars unsettled him. Regardless, the commissioner spoke the truth. The only thing he could do was wait for her on the other side of the trial. To do anything more, to tamper with the process would go against everything he fought for. 

If they tried to throw her behind bars, however,then he would have no choice but to act.

He left the rooftop in silence, something he knew Gordon had to be used to by now. The Batman still had a city to protect, a patrol to stick to. He made a note to set up alerts on his computer for any mention of Dove Cartwright. Hopefully, all went well, and she won’t be convicted of any crime. 

A week passed and he had heard nothing of what could be happening to Dove. The golden prince of Gotham planned on waiting one more day before he broke into the surveillance footage at the station. So he remained in his office, going over figures and reports when he got a call from the station. The caller ID flashed brightly in front of him, it beckoned him to pick up the phone and demand answers. 

Stay calm, Bruce. 

“This is a collect call from Gotham City County Jail for inmate Dove CartWright, say yes if you wish to accept this call.”

“Yes.” The silence on the other side deafened him. Concern crawled up his body and looped itself around his neck, constricting like a snake until he was on the verge of passing out. Then, a muffled sniffle came through the line. “Hello?”

“Bruce? Thank God you answered. I couldn’t think of anyone else to call.”

“Dove? Is that you? Are you in jail?” These were questions he already knew the answer to, but to get what he wanted, he had to play his part as a bewildered friend. Hammering down his role, Bruce cursed low under his breath, loud enough for her to hear. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I ran into some trouble. Made acquaintance with the wrong crowd and now the police are charging me with being an accomplice. I-uh need a favor, Bruce.”

“Do you need a lawyer? Don’t worry, I have a team ready. They’ve never lost a case, you’ll be out in no time.” He expected a sound of relief but did not receive one. “Dove?”

“I don’t need a lawyer. I already accepted a plea deal. I was hoping you could uh..” The billionaire smirked. He knew where this was going. 

“You want me to bail you out?”

“...yes.” He sighed and leaned back into his chair, staying quiet until she broke the silence. Focus, Bruce, focus. “M’sorry Bruce. You know I don’t see you as a walking bank or nothing. But I need to get out of here. I didn’t do anything. And I’m not safe in here.”

“Whose after you Dove?”

“Bad...bad people Bruce. I fucked up. I-”

“Ok.” And that was the end of that. She’ll remember this moment for the rest of their lives, Bruce rationalized, how quick he was to help her any way he could. How he didn’t even question her innocence, not like the GCPD have been doing. This would be the first of many milestones in their relationship.

This would be the day Dove realized Bruce Wayne was someone, the only one she could count on. 

Thoughts raced in his mind, plans forming and disassembling at an inhuman speed. He had calls to place, guards to disarm, supplies to buy, but piece by piece, his next steps became clear. 

“Bruce?”

“I’ll see you later tonight, Dove. Take care of yourself until then.”

“I,” a harsh exhale filled bounced around his eardrums. It didn't take detective work to know on the other side of the phone, shuffling her feet next to the phone station, Dove was struggling to hold it together.  “Thank you, Bruce. Really.”

The line went dead, his phone screen still pressed firmly on his side profile. Lowering the device, Bruce stared absently at the black screen. 6 minutes and 17 seconds. It felt much shorter than that, but the numbers refused to change. It made him crave more.  A calloused finger pad tapped the touchscreen, raising the phone back to his ear. The cooing of a call yet to be answered riled his spirit. 

“Alfred. I need you to prepare the manor for a guest.”

“Absolutely Master Bruce. May I ask how long this guest will be saying.”

“Indefinitely.”

#written by junk💋 #batman x reader #batman fanfiction #batman x black!reader #yandere batman #black!reader #black oc #batman x oc #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x black oc #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne x black!reader #dc fanfic #black reader #black writers

[sukunasstomachtongue]

"That Girl is No Good."

Act two is beginning to write itself, until then here are what I like to call intermission pieces.

Series Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Dove (black OC) [mentioned]

Rating: PG-13 | warnings: none? public opinion and scrutiny, cursing

Taglist[OPEN]: @prettyvintageafternoon @zennydaye @lalaooopsie @leahnicole1219 @ctrllovre

“What the public wants to know is who is this floozy that’s been caught time and time again, dangling off Mr.Wayne’s arm?” Judy’s fiery red tresses shook from the conviction in her voice, comparable to an agitated horse. She eyed the camera lens, attempting to convey the emotion brewing in her chest to her viewers. After months of failed lives and low viewerships on her blog, the woman had finally found her niche. 

Celebrity Gossip.

And who was the biggest celebrity this side of the western hemisphere if not Bruce Wayne? At first, the man gave nothing exciting to report on that could rally public interest. But now, this woman, this Dove Cartwright, had garnered interest the more he was caught with her. And that made Judy a very popular woman. She didn't understand why so few public personalities talked about this hot piece of news.

“Mr. Wayne is not a saint, we’ve all heard of the legendary parties he throws and the somewhat questionable meetings he has with some of Gotham’s infamous. But this woman is different. Poor, fat, black, with a criminal record, a key suspect in an ongoing investigation with a gang that is known for terrorizing innocents. I’m speaking out of a place of worry for Mr. Wayne. 

“I’ll take some callers now. Caller number one you’re on the air.

“Hi, my name is Michelle and I know for a fact that woman is a gold digger! She lives in the same neighborhood my ex does and it's nothing over there but future criminals and loser has-beens.”

Thank you Michelle for your concern and support. Next caller.”

“My name is Rich and I used to get my pants hemmed by her at Spinelli. She’s nothing but a girl looking for a meal ticket. She used to feel me up and press her breast against my legs like a bitch in heat. It's a real shame Mr. Wayne doesn’t know what he’s inviting into his life. That girl is no good.”

“Thank you for sharing that information Rich, I’m sure Mr. Wayne will open his eyes soon. Next Caller.”

“What’s up Gotham, it's Santana in the mix and I just wanna say all of yall is some haters. Yall big mad Mr. Wayne done found himself a baddie and yall jealous and bitter cause yall wish it was you all snuggled up with -”

“I’m so sorry to my audience for letting that thing assault your ears with nonsense. Maybe we should take a small break-” Three sharp knocks on her oak doors shocked her still. No one visits Judy. Her family had all but washed their hands of her years ago and she never connected with any woman she met in the 10+ years she’s been alone. Glancing at the setup, she could see the chat asking her who was at the door. 

“One second. Let’s take a small break.” she addressed both groups at once. Giving a small smile to the camera, Judy did a swift pivot and made her way to the door. She opened it without hesitation. The sight that welcomed her made her insides coil. 

“Judith Snorfeld?” It was a singular man, dressed in a sharp business suit with a manilla envelope gripped securely in his hand. By the second, Judy could feel her blood circulate faster. 

“Yes. Why are you-” Her breath rushed out her mouth as her body recoiled from the thick envelope that found itself forced into her embrace. She scrambled to secure the papers, all the while staring the man down. 

“Mr. Wayne is asking nicely that any and all posts you’ve made about him and Ms. Cartwright be taken down immediately.” Judy gawked at the man. He displayed no emotion or hint of an opinion. 

“You…he can’t be serious. It’s celebrity gossip, what I’m doing is-”

“I am just the messenger ma’am. If you don’t believe me or listen to Mr. Wayne’s kind request, those documents from his lawyers in your hands are more than enough to explain the situation.”

“But-”

“Good evening.” Judy watched, shock still freezing her body to the threshold of her quaint home, as the man in the sharp suit left the way she assumed her come. Slowly, she shifted her eyes to her torso, where the manilla folder had been pressed and secured.

She didn't bat an eye as the oak door closed without her body acting as a doorstopper. Couldn't draw in a single breath down the hall back to her tiny office, back to her waiting audience. She can't think of what to say, her words had been silenced and locked deep inside of her as fear took hold of her.

Judy glanced at the computer screen, chat lines obscuring her reflection. Her lips separate to utter something, a flimsy excuse to cut the show short, but her eyes pick out a colored piece of paper in the mess that was her desk before she could get anything out.

She's sick to her stomach. She wants to vomit. Of all people to blab about, why would she pick Bruce Wayne?

Now she's going to lose her viewers. Her short-lived steady stream of income. And her apartment.

"Fuck you, Dove Cartwright."

#written by junk💋 #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x oc #black!reader #black oc #bruce wayne x black oc #bruce wayne x black!reader #batman fanfiction #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #batman x oc #batman x reader #batman x black!reader #batman x black oc #black reader #black writers

[sukunasstomachtongue]

"I Know What They're Thinking."

I'm not sure if I want to call this part 7 or part 6.5, regardless I'm posting it. I feel like I say this every time, but it picks up after this. Inspiration comes and goes these days, so yall just gon have to bear with me.

Series Masterlist

Bruce Wayne x Dove (black OC)

Rating: PG-13; warnings: obsessive Bruce Wayne, sneaky Bruce Wayne, chipped nails, women's clothing sizing mention, cursing, barely edited.

Taglist[OPEN]: @prettyvintageafternoon @zennydaye @lalaooopsie @leahnicole1219 @ctrllovre

Her nails had been chipping since that night she got arrested. Dove couldn’t tell you when it first started. Maybe that night in the cold rain, pressed between the unregulated vigilante and the rough asphalt of the city. Maybe during the unconscious hours that followed that, when her body was moved to the soulless gray precinct. Maybe when damaged palms repeatedly smacked the steel table, straining to convey her innocence to the detective. 

Maybe afterward, when Dove had been rudely escorted to a cell, crammed already with other convicted bodies. When she had very little room to breathe, even less to turn and gather her bearings without hearing some sob story or boast fest. Perhaps a chip of mauve nail polish flaked off when that erratic woman stalked through the cell like a predator, grasped her hand to offer her a proposition. 

There were infinite possibilities when her nail polish began chipping, but Dove knew for sure that after her mild mind break, the polish had shed like a snake's skin. With it went her armor. Dove felt out of control, the itch she struggled with for so long came roaring back, filling her head with roaring thunder. 

It made her restless. 

She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Everywhere she went, Dove could swear she smelled the sweet slightly nauseating odor of laughing gas and sweat. It made it hard to stay focused, and her an easy target for the police. Quickly the young woman earned the title ‘insubordinate’. Dove never knew loneliness like this before.

But then Bruce answered her call. And for a moment that dark feeling faded away.

She wasn’t prepared for it to return tenfold three months later.

***

Dove couldn’t help but fiddle with the buttons on the jacket he draped over her shoulders. The way it settled on her tense shoulders like a blanket soothed a toddler, it carried an inexplicable sense of security. The warmth of his body had remained trapped in the silk-lined fabric, thawing her from the horrors of being confined like an animal. 

A firm hand clasped the roundness of her shoulder, dragging her into the moment. The bustling movements and repetitive barking that characterized the police station rammed into her all at once. 

Her grip tightened on the button caught between her fingertips. 

“Ready to go?” No. Yes. Would the evening sun burn her after being deprived of it for so long?

“Yes.” Bruce led her through the corridor, out the door, and to the cherry red convertible that let all the sight-having citizens of Gotham know who was gracing their dangerous streets. The corvette played the perfect chariot for the golden Prince of Gotham, and Dove, in all her times of riding passenger, had never felt more unworthy. 

“Dove, are you okay?” Bruce watched her, her sullen attitude polluting the air around her. He hated seeing her like this, scared and broken. Luckily he knew how to fix it, but it would have to wait until the prerequisites were met. “You can talk to me, I won’t judge you.”

“I just,” her dam began to break. “Don’t know what to say. I-I don't know how to thank you. This was, you, what you did, how do I repay you?”

She couldn’t bear the look of pity she knew would be painted on his face, so burning eyes fell to her lap, watching her idle hands squirm in her lap. Her body flinched in the premium leather seat when a pale hand pierced her personal bubble to settle her restless fingers. 

“There is nothing to repay. You are someone I care about, I would do anything to help you.”

Dove looked at him head-on and opened her mouth to protest, to demand him to name his price because she’s lived long enough to know that nothing is free, but the gleam in his eyes stopped her before she could start. Even without getting to know him for the past few months, she had enough data in her brain to know Bruce Wayne was a stubborn person that came from a long line of equally stubborn individuals. 

By the flare of her nose, the billionaire knew the dragon had been defeated for now. Now for the next phase of his master plan. 

Dove’s demeanor slowly thawed out the further he drove them away from the precinct. Tense shoulders began to droop, twitching fingers calmed, her painfully stiff spine began to slouch, the fog of despair dissipated. The sullen woman worked up the energy to shift her focus from her lap to the window, watching the way the world passed by. 

Bruce had to resist jerking the steering wheel when a giggle escaped her cracked lips. 

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing to your billionaire mind. It always amuses me when people do double takes when they see this car. You can’t see their eyes but I know what they’re thinking. ‘Is that fucking Bruce Wayne?’ I always thought that when I saw you on my commute.”

Her tired voice perked up the longer she spoke, it warmed his ears. “Oh yeah?”

“The only other person that causes this reaction is Batman. He moves so quick and wears all that black so you can barely see him-”

Bruce slowed the car down to a stop as he waited for the light to change green. His jaw longed to clench and grind his molars against their opposites. It took no brain power to know what made his passenger stop her sentence. 

He hated that that was how she met his alter ego. The way her usually bright brown eyes were filled with nothing but panic and fear, fear of him, haunted him for days. He lost sleep thinking about how he was the one that turned her in, the reason she was detained in a cold cell downtown. 

It was all his fault and she didn’t know. Nor could she, not right now when things were so precarious. Bruce promised himself he would tell her soon, he had to. By his own hand, Bruce had trapped himself in a rock and a hard place. A splat of rain hitting the windshield broke the brooding man out of his thoughts.

“It never stops raining here. You know, I almost decided to move to Metropolis after hearing how bad the weather is in Gotham.” Dove said as her finger chased after a lone raindrop sliding down the tinted window, bare of the colored nail polish he remembered seeing the night of her arrest. 

“Oh yeah? What made you change your mind?”

“Bills. Everything is expensive in Metropolis. Rent, life insurance, cable, even car insurance and I don’t own a car! I calculated those numbers and signed the lease to my apartment the same day.”

“Gotham is cheap?”

“It's run down, Bruce. At least where I am. The same-sized apartment I got now is double the price in Metro. And it's not like rats are coming out the wall sockets or nothing, there’s too much crime for the landlords to charge an arm and a leg like they do in Metropolis.”

The light conversation distracted Dove from her demons. Instead of being mentally caged in the cell she could revisit the apartments she toured in the city before picking the one near Sheldon Station. 

“I think you just passed my turn, Bruce. Its a right on Rucha, remember-”

“Dove.” He spoke her name tensely. Bruce didn’t have to but for her sake, squeezed the wheel and twisted his grip to tell his unease. Like it pained him to deliver the next bit of news when it actually sent his heart racing with fervor. “I can’t in good conscious leave you alone there.”

Plump limps separated to express her shock. Before she could begin to protest, her savior put his hand up to stop her arguments. 

“Please, listen to me, Dove. I-” He sniffed his nose, seeming to hold back emotions he was too refined to express in public like this. “I don’t know who exactly you’ve gotten yourself involved with,”

Guilt coiled in her stomach like a cobra. Oh. Was she that awful and inconsiderate? For all he knew, Bruce could be getting himself involved with the biggest goons in Gotham for her sake. Was she really that self-absorbed? What was Dove thinking? Involving him in her plight. He was only trying to help her, the least she could do was hear him out. 

Paying no mind to the moving car, Dove failed to feel the increase in acceleration as she reached to touch his hand, soothe his mind, and coax out his thoughts. Times like this she wished he grew up normal, somewhere where showing emotions was okay.

“I don’t care either. I just want you safe. And the best way to do that is if you stay with me. At the manor.”

“Bruce-”

“I have the best security on earth. There isn’t another house for miles. No one pops up without a month’s notice. Alfred is trained in five forms of combat. You’ll be safe here. And that way, I won’t have to worry about you.” He ended that confession with a deep sigh, driving the point home. 

He cared so much about her, Dove realized. Her hips shifted if the premium leather seats. Outside the car, the beauty of Lemmars Park went ignored. The bridge that connected Uptown and the outskirts of the city loomed in the distance. Its overwhelming size didn't help to ease Dove’s nerves. She couldn’t even begin to see the other side of the bridge. The clouds and rain blocked what little light the streetlights provided the public. 

She wouldn't have to stay forever. Just a couple days, until her trial ended and her body found itself in the county jail or back on her worn mattress in her apartment she worked so hard to make cozy. 

Is Bruce asking for that much? A little staycation in the manor, being cared for and doted on by his lovely butler. Laughing and bonding with her friend. Learning new sides of his personality of the always posh and primped Bruce Wayne, sides that didn’t fit into his carefully molded character. Briefly, she wondered if he was the type to walk around in his draws or not.

Dove cast her eyes to his side profile. His jaw had tensed since he finished pleading his case. They neared the bridge. His grip on the wheel wavered before tightening until the leather squeaked.  Her hand had yet to move from his other. 

“I need to go home.”

Bruce cursed, out loud and at himself for falling for sucha stubborn mule of a woman. Was his tone not sappy enough? Should he have gone for a higher-pitched voice, and rubbed his jaw to showcase his distress instead of periodically gripping the wheel? It couldn’t be too late now. One last chance. 

“Dove-” 

“To pack up some clothes. Unless you have women’s clothing in a size 18 already in the guestroom’s closet?” Dove cracked the tiniest smile, those pretty crooked teeth lighting up the car. Bruce felt his chest concave. No, he didn’t have any clothing prepared for her in the guestroom.

Because he put the items in the master closet, next to his. 

“That wasn’t funny.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

“How?”

“How about some of my special étouffée for breakfast tomorrow?” The convertible dipped as it rolled off the streets of Uptown onto the paved smoothed concrete of the bridge. They were almost home. 

“Can’t wait.” Dove could feel the honesty in his response. Her heart skipped a beat.

Oh, dear.

#written by junk💋 #batman fanfiction #batman x black!reader #batman x reader #black reader #black writers #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne #batman x oc #yandere batman #batman #dc fanfic #black!reader #black oc #bruce wayne x black oc #bruce wayne x black!reader

[sukunasstomachtongue]

"Wrong one, Nanami-san!"

Welp guess who the cat done dragged back out of hell and outta her shell. Quick lil post, and yes I did just get braids.

Rating: PG | warnings: cursing probably, one asscheek squeeze, poorly edited

introducing Bambi, my newest reader stand-in

"Wait, you said you took zelle?! I didn’t bring cash.” Bambi looked back at the woman, bewildered. It was 3:40 pm, and she had been in the small braiding shop since 7:30 am. Her head hurt, her leg started cramping, her stomach been growling since noon, and her ass was numb like she got injected with novocaine on both cheeks. 

The struggles of being a bad bitch.

“No, no, no. my sister does zelle, but she is not here. I only do cash.” As she spoke through with accented tongue, the braider had begun retracting her hands, resting the tools of her trade that had been working non-stop all day. Bambi could feel her irritation grow. As much as this whole situation peeved her off, she would be damned if she returned home with half her hair done. 

“Okay, lemme call my boyfriend. He’ll bring the money.”

“Okay, honey. Call him now. I take break now.” Bambi nodded, getting out of the worn stylist chair to get her blood circulating while her fingers tapped on the phone screen. The call was brief, all she had to do was ask for him to stop by with the money. A question from him had Bambi call out to the braider, who had moved to the front of the shop to check in with her family and other clients. 

“Gena? What time will we be done?” The woman paused her vivid storytelling to respond to Bambi. 

“Two more hours. Remy, come help me finish and we’ll leave after. Okay?” Called to attention, a little girl no older than 12 removed her earplugs and put down her iPad. 

“Okay, momma.” Bambi relayed the message to the receiver, smiling, and pressed the red end button when he promised he would personally come to deliver the money.

“He coming with the money, hunny?” 

“Yes.”

“Good, good. Okay, let’s finish.” 

Two hours passed torturously, her focus spit between pressing down on whatever braid was being tugged on to relieve pain and prevent her follicles from getting ripped out, and watching the foreign romance drama playing on the mounted tv via the mirror’s reflection. In the two hours, Bambi watched with envy and scrunched nose as two of the seven other clients leave, the scent of hairspray and small drips of boiling water showing their trail. 

“Stay still, hunny.” With a minute nod, Bambi did as she was told, steam licking the fine hairs of her ears and neck. “Almost done. Where is your boyfriend?”

“He’s-” the sound of the old bell above the door being ringed silenced Bambi. Call her crazy, but she likes to think her senses were acute when it came to her boyfriend. She could tell by the summer breeze that filled the room he was in the room. 

“Bambi?” Yuji’s upbeat voice reached all the way to the back where she, Gena, and Remy were stationed. 

“Here.” He followed her reply into the back, pushing beads that separated the front from the back out his way. He gave a soft smile, in awe of seeing her in such a state. It wasn’t often anyone got a glimpse of her primping and preening. Most of the time the group only got the end result, hair and accessories already perched in place. The Bambi in front of him looked vulnerable, unease written clearly in her expression. 

“Who do I give it to?” he looked at the other two people in the corner, fighting the muscles in his face wanting to keep his expression neutral. 

“Gena.” Without hesitation, Gena got up from the chair, hand out, ready to accept her payment for almost twelve hours of labor. 

“Thank you. Your boyfriend is very handsome, Hunny.” Gena quipped as her fingers ripped open the sealed envelope. 

“He’s not him, Yuji, where is Nanami?” She could feel young eyes peep up to her, to Yuji, towards the front, before refocusing on dipping the ends of the braids. Remy’s mother gasped, done counting her payment. 

“Too much! Almost ten thousand.” She uttered, mind frazzled at the amount in her hand. Bambi gave a scrupulous glance at the braider before looking at Yuji, who had turned a soft pink. 

“I’m sorry, give me one second!” Ripping the money out Gena’s hand, the young man flounced back to the front, ringing the bell as he opened the door to talk to his boss. 

“Wrong one, Nanami-san.” The occupants of the shop went hush, waiting on how the mysterious man that had been pacing back and forth like a predator, talking swift and curt on the phone, would respond. A few still chirped on though.

Bambi heard the bell ring once again, ignoring the whispers between mother and daughter trying to speculate who the hell was in their shop. Bambi liked Remy’s guess of ‘conman’ the least. Nanami would never do something so lowbrow as conning. 

That was her territory. 

He came in with the next gust of wind, trenchcoat flowing behind him like a cape. The conversations come to a full halt then, all the patrons and workers fixated on his simple movements. Bambi swore even the beads moved out of the way for the man as he crossed over to the back, the phone still pressed to his ear, the ticked-off expression he wore morphing into a fonder one. He tapped the mute button on the screen to address the room.

“Sorry, ma’am. My mistake.” He said nothing more, producing a new unopened envelope for Gena. This package was noticeably less dense. Just as she accepted her payment, Remy squeezes the last of the boiling water out of the fibers of synthetic hair. Bambi can’t control the groan released from her spirit. 

Yuji followed his boss back in and was about to offer a hand to help her out of the chair until Nanami gave him an unreadable expression. She got her boyfriend’s hand instead.

Bambi smiled cheerily as he gently pulled her out of the chair, raising their joint hands towards the yellowed fluorescent lighting. He looked at her like a king does his god. Her long braids flew behind her when she fell into his embrace. Letting go of her hand, Nanami wrapped his arm around her waist, securing her to him. 

“Absolutely stunning.” His low tone sent shivers down her spine. Already she could feel skin melt and stick to his aura. He didn’t care about the others in the room with them, he only had eyes for his Bambi. 

“Thank you,” Swallowing the lust in her throat, Bambi turned to Gena and her daughter. “Thank you, see ya’ll next time.”

“Okay, hunny. Goodnight.” Gena spoke automatically, her focus refusing to move from the stack of money in her hand. It was still twice as much as she charged. She didn’t even attempt to cover her daughter’s eyes or admonish the couple when Nanami gave a quick but strong squeeze to his girlfriend’s ass. 

“Let’s go. I have to make another stop and get a new envelope and-” The voice on his phone increased its volume, reminding everyone he was on a call. Kissing Bambi’s gleaming forehead, he mouthed a sorry as he pressed the mute button again. 

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Bambi waved as she left the shop, happy to be free from the pain and suffering. The door hadn’t even closed all the way when she heard the explosion of conversation they left in their wake. She turned to Yuji and poked him in the cheek, right under his scar. 

“Make a stop at Whataburger, yeah? I’m craving a shake.” 

“Sure thing, boss.” 

#junk's world #written by junk💋 #jjk fanfic #nanami kento #nanami x black!reader #nanami x reader #jjk x black reader #black reader #kento nanami #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami fluff #slice of life fic

[sukunasstomachtongue]

Play pretend is going into a direction I never anticipated. This might end up with lovesick Sukuna...

#junk talks #written by junk💋 #sukuna simp #not mad at it tbh #is he capable of love? #no. #lust? yes #yandere sukuna #i guess

[sukunasstomachtongue]

"That it, Bossman?"

Chile, I been gone so long, I'm just gonna post and go.

Series Masterlist

Taglist [OPEN]: @prettyvintageafternoon @zennydaye @lalaooopsie @leahnicole121919

Rating: Pg-13

Warning: naughty dreams, cursing, obsessive Bruce Wayne

She’s been haunting his mind ever since that meeting. This was an outcome even the greatest detective could have predicted. Morning, noon, and night, her visage ghosted around the empty halls and intersections of his mind, interrupting his day to day thoughts with a coy smile and trail of department store perfume.

The growing desire to jolt his head up and scour his surroundings every time he heard her laugh was getting hard to control. His heart couldn’t cope with the delusions of his mind. Everything reminded Bruce of her. 

Torture sessions replaced his sleep schedule. After his patrol in the dank underworld of his city, Bruce would return home to his estate, shower, then sleep. That’s how it’s always been since he became Batman. Injuries and catastrophic events would interrupt this routine, of course, but Dove ripped it to shreds. His silk sheets buried him like waves, drowning him until the oxygen in his lungs were depleted and the hallucinations started.

“Bruce…Bruce...please Bruce,” It always started with pleading. The begging in her raspy tone would be the initial strike, the first nail in the coffin. 

Brown skin, gleaming with sweat, shining under the spotlight. Her marks and moles painted illustrations on her skin, something that his mouth wanted to trace to perfection. Her body twitching, bared and naked for his eyes only. The images were overwhelming. 

“Touch me, Bruce. Please.” The fingers, smaller and more delicate than his, cleaner than his could ever be, blessed his rosy skin with featherlight touches. Moans flooding his ears, taking over his senses. 

“Touch me here, Bruce.” After the second request to feel her form under his fingertips, he would always wake up tangled in his bedsheets. Even in his dreams he couldn’t take the plunge. It felt wrong somehow, his morality had drawn the line in the sand. Searching up personal information on the batcave’s computer system was one thing, touching dream Dove was another. 

Breaking into the security feed of a small ethnic grocery shop that sold a specific brand of popsicles he found in Spinelli’s shop one night after an uneventful patrol? 

That toes the line.

But ultimately, could be overlooked. If anyone asked, and no one could or ever thought to question the respectable Bruce Wayne, a casual remark about the growing diversity in Gotham City would explain his sudden detours to that side of town. No one could fault him for being curious.

Especially when the curiosity paid off in the board meetings. Everyone fawned over his dedication to creating strong cell towers throughout the city. No one needed to know that Bruce only discovered the discontinuity in connection strength by dealing with the five second lag he experienced watching closed footage from his batcave. 

Today was like any other day. Waking up from a dream that left him unbearably hard in his silk pajamas- an issue he would have to address in his morning shower-, completing his tasks at his company, shaking hands and making deals with Gotham's elite. A simple routine he’s followed for years. But now comes with a twist. 

“I think I’ll go visit that deli again for lunch. Want something, Fox?” The older man shifted his focus from the prototype blueprints on his desktop to gauge his boss’s movements. Swift, everything Bruce Wayne could be studied and classified as efficient. He never moved excessively or put in more work than required. A trait few picked up, fortunate for him or else everyone would see him for what he really was.

A walking contradiction.

“That little shop off Westward? Isn’t that a bit out of your way, Mr. Wayne? We need to finish these plans as soon as possible.” Lucious reasoned. The small food court within Wayne Towers had more than enough options to satisfy the evolving palate of its well traveled owner. 

“I won’t be long. I’ll bring you back those snack cakes you like so much.”

Bruce smoothed his overcoat topping his suit, slyly wiping the sweat that had beaded up on his palms away. There was nothing to be nervous about. Bruce just wanted to get a sandwich and return to his office. 

This had nothing to do with it being late lunch hour, which just so happened to be what Dove favored to avoid heavy mid-day traffic. 

The world class chef’s at Wayne Towers couldn’t replicate the sauce only available at the small hole in wall deli. Or offer the variety of international snacks found in its compact aisles and fridges. Like the popsicles he tried the other day. The same ones he found in Spinelli’s trash. 

The bell dinged and the men grunted a hello from behind the counter. Their idea of good service and Bruce’s idea were on two different planets, but the billionaire knew a thing or two about being cocky. The type of cockiness he wielded at socials and galas, where all his peers and onlookers whimpered at his feet and laughed at his pisspoor jokes. The type of cockiness being the best breeds in a person. Knowing no matter what you do, you’ll still be untouchable.

It was a heady feeling, akin to consuming the finest absinthe. 

“Yo! What can I do for you bossman?” Cold steel eyes scanned the walkways and mirrors in the corners of the store, searching for that familiar head full of tamed hair. Did he come too late? Too early? Is she not on her lunch right now? Maybe, Bruce reasoned as the man fixed up his order while talking loudly to his coworker, maybe she went to another shop for lunch. 

Still, this would be his third time coming to the store without laying eyes on his current object of intrigue. At this point, going back to the footage and coming up with a new plan seemed like the best next step-

The bell dinged.

“Oi, there’s our little princess! Where you been at?” Following the cashier’s gaze, Bruce’s heartbeat picked up with a shy bit of hope racing through his system.

Pretty brown eyes. Hair covered by a neon yellow beanie. Black stockings with the smallest rips along her outer knee and a pretty red scarf that had seen better days. 

“Po, you know I have to wait until the fifteenth to afford one of your sandwiches. Don’t play dumb.” Bruce’s ears perked. There was a sharpness in her voice he had only heard from tapping into audio tapes from around the city. How familiar was she with these two?

“You talking to me, the man that makes your food, like that?” 

“I never said a word to Sammy.” A raspy chuckle trailed her response. “Sammy, how are you darlin? Po not working you too hard, right?”

“He not, but you could.” Dove snorted, tapping along the laminate wood counter, bringing the line count from one to two. In front of her, A sharp dressed man dug in his pocket for his wallet and collected his sandwich. 

“Boy, stop playing with my emotions like you don’t got a husband at home and make my food.” 

“That it bossman?” Brown eyes finally took notice of the figure at the register and the woman felt her body temperature drop. Of all people to catch her outside of her work persona, it had to be the most important man in the city, the possible key to her upward mobility if she impressed him enough. 

Should she speak up? Call his attention and butter him up with her hopefully endearing personality? Would it be best to act like she didn’t recognize him? But, Dove scrunched her nose in agitation as her eyes tracked Sammy slapping her sandwich together behind the glass barrier, who in Gotham wouldn’t recognize Bruce Wayne? The real dilemma was would he remember her? 

Sure they shared a meal one time, but a man like him must be drowning with dozens of shared dinners with women. Nothing made her special-

“No caviar this time?” As if sensing her internal dialogue, Bruce’s smooth voice startled her and solved her issue at the same time. Their eyes met, and everything outside of the woman next to him faded away from his vision. It was alarming how she could fog his brain with a simple look, which only made Bruce want to be around her more, orbit around like the moon does the earth, tethered to her gravity with no desire to break free.

“Not this time, Mr. Wayne-”

“Princess, want it toasted?” Sammy asked, breaking up the beginning of what Bruce thought to be a beautiful moment. His trained ears could hear the swallow of saliva being forced down her esophagus.

“Yes, add it to my total.” Too distracted by the thought of a warm lunch for the first time in ages, Dove is blind to the intense look her sponsor gives Sammy. 

“Mr. Wayne, you keep paying for my food and Gotham will start talking. I’ll end at the top of the gotham gazette web page.” Dove protested lighty, enough to say she tried but not enough for him to change his mind about buying her lunch. 

Bruce fought the goofy smile looking for a place on his face, sliding his card over for payment. Buying things for pretty girls was familiar territory for the billionaire. He could consider it foreplay at this point. In his experience, nothing made a woman want him more than getting a feel for how big his pocket bulge was. 

A decorated palm rose to wave at the gentlemen behind the counter. Wordlessly, the pair exited the shop with Bruce holding the door for her, the door chime signaling their return to society, one where a man like him didn't pay much mind to women like her. But Bruce had so much more he wanted to say.

Every parting with her tugged at his heart, demanding he take drastic action to keep her in his sights.  A more impulsive man would clasp her hand and smooze her number out. 

“If anyone ever gives you trouble, kindly send them to my office. I’ll take care of it, Dove.” What a man, she thinks. There must be something wrong with him. She found it hard to resist his charm, or believe that the persona he donned for the general public and the man on a midday lunch break were the same person. 

“In that case, maybe you should give me your number.” Bold. He liked it.

Thank goodness.

#written by junk💋 #batman fanfiction #batman x black!reader #batman x reader #black reader #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x black oc #bruce wayne x black!reader #dc fanfic #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman

[sukunasstomachtongue]

All These Kisses

getting back into the swing of things, this has been in my drafts for far too long. I missed yall on tumblr.

pairing: Gojo x Baby (OC) | Rating: PG

Dewy lips held his attention hostage. The way the strips of flesh gleamed in the hazy setting summer sun, shined with opportunity. The gloss on her lips stayed put through their entire outing. From her apartment to the movies. Even after eating a luxurious dinner of steak and potatoes, just when he thought his suffering had been over a small trip to the restaurant’s powder room and the gloss had returned with a vengeance.

Her lips almost shined more, brighter after the second application. It infuriated Satoru, more than it should have. How did she expect him to resist kissing her when she dolled herself up in such a way?

She didn’t.

His darling was a lot of things. Coy, stunning, infuriatingly smart. Subtle was not one of her attributes. The constant smacking of her lips every time a reflective material crossed their path wasn’t lost on him. ‘I’m just checking,’ she defended when his eyebrow would hike up in faux exasperation. The smiles she beamed his way, wide and genuine the way she showed her teeth to convey how much fun she was experiencing on this outing. His darling knew him well, but he knew he best.

So on her doorstep is when he made his move. Presented all his evidence in a nice neat package. Clasping her empty hands to fill the space between her fingers, Satoru ducked his head down and put all his being into a single kiss. But a man like him had too much to convey in a single kiss. So he had to give her another one. And another one. Kisses piled up on each other and her lipgloss left the designated space of her lips to spread all over her face.

Interrupted chortles breathed into his face. He wouldn’t stop until all the oxygen on earth had been used up and traded in for carbon dioxide.

“Satoru, leave me aloneee. You’re ruining my makeup.”

“Good. It’s been driving me crazy all night, sweetness. You expect me to resist you all night when I barely made through dinner?” His sweet-talking took the attention away from his sneaking hands, lightly groping her flesh looking for trouble to get into.

“Hey there, boy. Watch yourself.”

#written by junk💋 #gojo sensei #gojo x oc #gojo saturo #gojo x black reader #gojo x black oc #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x black reader #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #short and sweet #i missed posting #I do not miss tagging #gojo satoru x reader

[sukunasstomachtongue]

The Race: Lap 2 (preview)

“If you’re not here to clear your debt, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, Gojo. Technically you’re not even ‘sposed to be allowed within 20 meters of our doors.”

Both individuals refused to break eye contact, waiting for the other to chicken out and avert their gaze. Bunny had to fight off her signature sinister grin, the one she displays in the backstreets while riding shotgun in a barely street-legal car. No, she had to save that smile for the right time in place, the local public library barely surviving and on its last two legs hardly fit the criteria.

She gave him what Shoko called her ‘librarian smile.’ Kind and sickeningly sweet, giving the impression that she had all the time in the world to help a patron in need.

Gojo conceded after a few seconds of being on the receiving end of that smile. Her brown eyes glinted with victory.

“What if I did come to pay off my debt, hm? I can stay?” Bunny said nothing but went to work on her computer, lazily tapping the tablet on the patron side of the counter, prompting the man to move and look at the information displayed.

Gojo, Satoru

Amount Paid: $3.86

Amount Due: $834.98

Will you be paying: Cash, Credit/Debit Card, or Check?

#written by junk💋 #sukuna simp #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x black oc #sukuna x black reader #anime x black!reader #black!fem!reader #sukuna x oc #sukuna x reader #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x black reader #jjk fanfic #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #black writers

[sukunasstomachtongue]

Quick post that might evolve into a story while I re-edit ‘Eyes on Me’ which is definitely On the way, I did not lie about that no ma’am. Never that. Not me… I would never

Ft. Principal Asano from assassination classroom

Rated T for suggestive language | not edited | judge your god not me

“Why don’t I take her to the nurse while you all have a quiet study hall amongst yourselves? No need to worry her more.”

Like a spell, his tone brought actual nausea to her stomach, weakening her body until pressing her forehead against his palm became the only feasible way to stay upright.

“Don’t worry. Focus on your studies. I’ll be back in shape in no time.” She forced out. The students watch their beloved teacher be led down the hall, hastily throwing a weak smile their way before turning the corner, set on the path to the infirmary.

The stinging smell of disinfectant and cold metal came and went as the pair passed the room. She sighed as her fate became glaringly obvious. In her last moments, she thought it be best to reflect on her choices that led her toward death’s door.

Black eyes. Tan skin. An unmoving scowl. Broad, broad shoulders with a cinched waist. Thick hair that would look absolutely delectable caught between her nails. His voice remained unknown for now, but her mind was more than ready to fill in that hole with something raspy and seductive enough to talk her into climaxing.

Oh, how her tongue yearned for her teeth to sink into such a fine specimen. She had to know how his flesh tasted, and how fast his blood pumped when under the influence of arousal, just like how they had already learned this about the principal.

The only man she’s been steadily kneeling for these past few months.

Let it be known now in his office with no witnesses besides the dust mites and the janitorial staff responsible for cleaning up their afterschool messes, the foreign English teacher was a salacious beast led by her primal desires. And the esteemed Principal Asano represented every filled desire she had. A man of his… pedigree was worth their weight in gold. Under his employment, she gained access to stable income and housing, a lovely slightly above modest life. Under his desk, she gained pleasure so painful she struggled to revel in the jewels and his highly sought-after attention.

The same attention focused on her now like a target light. One long blink and she found herself back to supporting herself as best she could under his heavy stare. Only the desk separated them. He had yet to sit down.

“What was that?” Teddy frazzled under his red eyes. Red. Black. She’d trade her soul to see those colors together. Focus.

“Sir?”

“I’m disappointed in you. Someone under my leadership should never be seen in the hall of my school, salivating and whimpering like a bitch in heat.”

“Principal Asano, sir. Let me explain.” Within a second her head was pressed against mahogany wood with his palm keeping her trapped. She could feel the threads of her skirt ride up the back of her thighs. If anyone were to walk in on them…

“There’s no need, Professor. I can see it written all over your face. In some ways, this is my fault. Employing a salacious woman such as yourself,” Asano shifted his brutish hold from her cheek to her hair, balling his fist in her locks. “Remember how quickly you fell for me. It was my own arrogance that brought this on, I believed you were a woman of impeccable taste in men. But now I see.” Dragging her up by her hair strands, he forced eye contact.

“You’d bend over for any man that gave you a glance. What a shame. A woman as beautiful as you should really have higher standards. What was it about the little government stiff that had you dripping out your skirt?” His hand didn’t slacken in power as he walked back around to her side of the desk. Asano stared her down with fury and greed lighting a fire behind his irises.

#written by junk💋 #junk’s world #while we wait #assassination classroom #principal asano #fine anime daddy #poorly tagged

[sukunasstomachtongue]

Next will be play pretend, intermission and the first part of we flock together, act 2

#junk talks #written by junk💋 #holding myself accountable #I miss writing and I have time

[sukunasstomachtongue]

Let's Add Caviar To It

My inspiration has been resurrected and it would be unfair to not use it in this series. I never thought I'd write this much for this story, but now its getting its own masterlist and taglist. Comment if you want to be tagged for future updates

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Taglist: @prettyvintageafternoon

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: cursing, obsessive Bruce Wayne

When Bruce first met Dove, the sky had just opened up for the third time that week. The rain made wonderful background noise as he stood upon a platform, staying completely still as his tailor made adjustments to the newest suit in his collection. She stood behind the man, measuring tape around her neck and a kettle of tea in her hands, dressed head to toe in knock-offs.

Her shoes were fake Luis Vuitton and the purse she carefully placed at her workstation had to be fake Fendi. Her slacks, though in style, looked like they came from a discount store. Her shirt was the worst offender, the signature Burberry plaid printed all wrong. Anyone that didn’t know designer would be fooled. The older women of Wayne Industries would call her attempt offensive.

Bruce thought she looked lovely.

As the appointment went on, his sharp gaze followed her captivating form travel in and out the room. Dedication bled through her every action. This woman moved with an eagerness to learn everything she could from her mentor. She had enough knowledge about the business to complete a task before Spinelli could call out her name.

“I’ll make sure to deliver the suit two days from now, Mr. Wayne,” Spinelli announced after taking the last measurement. When Bruce failed to respond, the old man a glance up. His highest paying customer had set his focus elsewhere. To the side of the podium, tucked away behind fabrics and order lists, where Spinelli had set up his apprentice to work.

“Mr. Wayne?” That time, the tailor gained Bruce’s attention.

“I just remembered that I have been invited to the mayor’s birthday dinner. This time deliver it to my office.”

“Oh?”

“Is that possible?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want, Mr. Wayne.” Bruce’s focus drifted back to the young woman tucked away, working hard and not paying him any mind. Whatever he wants?

Two days had passed agonizingly slow for him. Between fighting crime and leading his company to new heights of success, his mind never strayed far from her. His morning thoughts revolved around her, curious about what she looked like fresh out of bed. Catapulting through the rain slickened streets of his city, he wondered if she had any hobbies or what she did to unwind. After shaking a shareholder’s hand, Bruce imagined what she smelled like and how soft were those working hands of hers, and if she touched his suit with them.

By the time Dove made it to Wayne Towers and knocked on his door for the delivery, Bruce had dug up the bare bones of her life. Where she lived - near Sheldon Station- what subway line she rode -the number 2 line all the way to the Fashion District where she walks the rest of the way to Spinelli- if she lived with anyone -just a roommate that’s barely home and pretends to forget about paying their share of the rent- and how old she was -mid-twenties and she just celebrated a birthday.

“Mr. Wayne. I have your suit, sir.”

“Thank you. I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves yet. I’m Bruce Wayne, but I’m sure you knew that.” A small snort she failed to suppress warmed his being. That’s good, humor is a key factor in a long-lasting relationship.

“Dove CartWright, sir. I’ve been Mister Spinelli’s apprentice for the past few months.” Her voice coated her words in honey, unknowingly making her all the more appealing to him. Bruce could hear it now, the sound of her sleep-laden voice croaking out a rough ‘good morning’ from their bed as he paces around the room getting ready for work.

“Spinelli hasn’t taken on an apprentice in a long time. You must be deadly with a needle and thread.” Her eyebrows shot up an inch at his alluded compliment. Apparently, the news and local anecdotes were true. Bruce Wayne was a charmer.

“Thank you, sir. I came into his store with a few tricks and talents but he’s been wonderful sharing his expertise. I watched him tailor your suit and it was like a work of art how he did it.” Only watched, he wanted to ask.

“I’ve been going to Spinelli since I was a boy. I don’t know a better tailor,” Bruce replied, taking the garment bag and unzipping it to peek inside. Pristine black fabric greeted him. He let out an audible hum to telegraph his satisfaction.

While he inspected the suit, Dove stood still as a statue, running the tip of her painted fingertips along the edge of her skirt. Did he make her nervous? “Good as always.”

“He’ll be happy to know that. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Wayne.” Her body wobbled for a minute, trying to figure out what the proper farewell gesture would be for a tailor’s apprentice to give her employer’s most important customer who was simultaneously the CEO of the richest company in the western hemisphere.

Bruce would remember the smile she gifted him as she departed for the rest of his life. They weren’t the whitest teeth he’d ever seen or the straightest. The gap between her incisors induced an extra pump in his heart. Gapped teeth, something so plebian to fixate on, yet he did. It made her endearing. He wanted to see it again.

He had to see her again. Already the warmness of her presence had vanished, plummeting the CEO back into the usual callousness that was his life. He just needed to see her one more time. See her toss a smile at him one more time. Show him that gap in her pretty teeth one more time.

Dove kept her shoulders square as she strutted out the elevator into the lobby of Wayne Industries. Her job was officially over for the day, freeing her mind to think about the personal side of her life. What would she eat today?

How much money did she have in her account?

The 15th was coming up, she should stock up on purple polyester in case she runs out.

Dove broke out her train of thought at the sound of someone shouting ‘miss’ over and over.

“Ms. CartWright, Please come back. Miss?” A ruffled employee said again, sighing in relief when Dove’s head swiveled at the sound of her last name. “Mr. Wayne has asked that you return to his office at once. There seems to be an issue with his suit.”

“An issue with his suit? But-” Spinelli didn’t make a mistake, she finished in her head, nodding at the employee and retracing her steps to the elevator. What could have happened, she wondered as the numbers increased at an alarming speed, showing off the superiority of Waynetech.

Her knuckles barely rapped against the smooth wood grain of his office door before the entrance gave way to reveal the surprisingly shy half-smile of Bruce Wayne.

“Sorry to call you back so soon, but I accidentally ripped the seam on the jacket.”

“Oh. Oh! Sure, let me see the tear and I’ll have it fixed in no time, Mr. Wayne.” And there it was, another smile aimed his way, just for him. Her purse that had remained hitched on her shoulder during her first visit, drooped off and fell to hang from her covered forearm. It opened with a light ‘click’ giving access to the emergency sewing kit she had.

“I put it on my desk so I didn’t ruin it further.” The apprentice strolled up to the piece of furniture, kit in hand and ready to take on the task. The structure of her blazer wasn’t too restricting, it would allow her enough mobility to give her best effort.

“Okay let’s see what...Oh, wow. Mr. Wayne, this is-”

“You can fix it, right?”

“Of course, I know a trick or two.” A third smile. Bruce could feel an addiction forming. “I’ll show you why Spinelli agreed to mentor me.”

Bruce watched as she settled her supplies and entered a zone. Her body mindlessly gathered the garment and created a station on the coffee table. Her fingers made no unnecessary movement. She took a second to decide her course of action.

“How about I order you dinner as a thank you?” Though he really wanted to take her out, he knew it was best to start slow. Watching her covered yet tempting form relax into his furniture was more than enough at the moment. If only her hair hadn’t been restrained into a bun just like the one she wore two days ago. What would her hair look like untamed? How did she wear it outside of work?

Her head leaned as she thought about the pros and cons of accepting free dinner from Gotham’s most coveted bachelor.

“Sure, I’ll have a wagyu steak covered in gold, please.” The sharp exhale of amusement eased her mind. This was the perfect time to build a repertoire with him, a little humor could go a long way.

“Gold doesn’t taste like anything remarkable, so I advise against it. But the steak is a good choice.”

“You don’t have to really, Mr. Wayne. I was joking.” Bruce disagreed. He did, it would be an even exchange for gawking at her exposed legs while she worked unaware.

“Maybe so, but now you put the craving in my mouth. And please, call me Bruce.”

Dove paused to think once again. Who was she, at the end of the day, to tell a multi-billionaire how to spend his money? If he wants to humor her with premium steak, it’d be stupid to protest.

“First name basis, already? I feel so special. Let’s add caviar to it.”

“Whatever you want, Dove.” And he meant it. The sensation of saying her name riled him. He wanted to say it again.

One more time.

#bruce wayne x black!reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman x black!reader #batman fanfiction #batman x reader #batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #black!reader #black!oc #black writers #bruce wayne x reader #written by junk💋

[sukunasstomachtongue]

Mini-twists

*sighs* yall, idk at this point. wrote this while fighting smut writer's block. I promise this was supposed to be a cute lil fluff piece, how did we get here? the fluff to smut pipeline back at work. I decided to keep the cute soft ass beginning in, so just roll with it when shit turns left.

pairing: Ukai Keishin x black fem oc (everybody say hi to Star)

Rating: R | MINORS DNI

warnings: handjobs, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, cum eating, creampie, drunken sex, slight degradation, dirty talk, can't really call this sub ukai so instead let's just say desperate, sappy ending cuz why the hell not, not really proofread so bare wit me

The television screen projected the locked images found on the cd handed over to him earlier after the game. On the screen, young bodies moved animately. Running, blocking, diving, flying. Faces he’d seen earlier that day and others new to him kept his interest, his eyelids refusing to lower until it became a necessity. He couldn’t miss a second. Every note mattered. His studying two feet away from the device could be what stands between his team of crows advancing or losing tomorrow. Keishin had to take this seriously.

Star did not, but out of curiosity, chose to.

She positioned herself higher than Keishin, after being denied her favorite spot, his lap. The couch was a foot further than where he had plopped down, but still near enough for him to rest his shaggy blond head against her rich brown thighs. His strands tickled her skin every time he adjusted his sitting position, leaned close to the screen, or reached for the remote to replay a specific minute.

Her task kept her movements steady. Under, over, under, over, more product, under, over. Star’s accomplished half her head so far. One side she fixed into mini buns, sectioned, and detangled for ease. The other hung from her scalp, ropes of hair still wet from the creams and foams, swaying with every wobble.

Further on the couch was a pizza Keishin brought home to share between the two of them. Only three slices remained, and Star hoped they would survive Keishin’s midnight hunger and live long enough to become her lunch the next day.

“Shit, they’re pretty good,” Keishin mumbled around his cigarette. He leaned over to pick up the paper, a list of all the teams participating in this tournament, to scan for the information he needed. “Wing-spiker is a 3rd year, setter is a 3rd year, libero is a 3rd year, they’re entire starting line up consists of all 3rd years.”

“Makes sense if they’re this good. All of ‘em have been playing for years, allegedly.” Star commented, drawing attention to herself. “What?”

Keishin glanced down to his hand, the limb unconsciously wrapped around and stroking along her ankle, playing with the small charm that dangled from her anklet. Red spread across the bridge of his nose.

“I, uh, kinda forgot you were here.” Star stared at her boyfriend until nerves bubbles out of him like fizz does soda. The stick in his mouth hung precariously, one wrong move and it'll fall from his petite lips onto his trusty track pants.

“Wow, Kei. Way to make a girl feel special.” Orange painted toenails, painted to match the Karusuno colors, rose to the height of his shoulder before poking the body part. He continued to stare at her, neglecting the recording still playing despite his loss of interest. “Pay attention, Coach. You gotta tournament to win, huh? Take this school to nationals and shit on Nekoma.”

“Right, yea. Ok.”

Sometimes, Keishin marveled at her like he’s never seen another human being before. It was easy to get lost in her presence. Or maybe he possessed a weak will to begin with, that had no issue falling for her charm. Regardless of what the root of the phenomenon was, Star lived up to her name.

Her light burned too bright to look at directly, yet too alluring to turn away from.

Gravity tugged on him until he became nothing more than a satellite caught in her orbit.

Keshin kept these poetic thoughts to himself since he made a promise to not share his lovesick thoughts with his love allergic girlfriend. She didn’t understand love expressed through words, spoken or written in his shitty penmanship. Those attempts were ‘cute’. The lovesick volleyball sticky notes of two stick figures overlapping triangles- holding hands he clarified later- stuck to the fridge were ‘cute’, something to coo over and stuff in a jar of momentos to reminisce on later.

Star needed action and had to see it live to fully grasp what he felt. That's how she showed her affection. That’s why she painted her toes his team colors and came to every game he participated in. It’s why she bought matching sweatpants for them and made the sacrifice to get up early to yield the crops in his place the days he couldn’t find the will to stick a foot out of bed.

“What Kei? Do I have something on my face?” Star paused her handwork to address his staring for a second time.

“No, just c’mere.” Her forehead wrinkled as she eyed the open spot on his lap, muscular thighs stretched the emphasize the space. Keishin doesn’t hesitate to shift her small collection of products to the floor by his notebook, unsatisfied with the slow pace of his girlfriend.

“Don’t complain when I cut off your leg circulation.”

“I would gladly sacrifice my legs if it means the prettiest girl in the world is the reason behind it.” He mumbled into the crevice of her neck, taking the time to skim his lips over the tattooed skin, reveling in the shiver he caused to ransack her frame. He clicked the rewind button.

“Pay attention to the game coach. No time to be a lil lover boy.” Star teased, shifting her hips to sink deeper in the space between his legs. The smell of her fragrant hair products intermingled with the stench of his cigarettes until a balance was established. It was familiar in the apartment, already infused into the fabric and upholstery of their secondhand furniture. The odor of cocoa butter and tobacco clung to their clothing, it described them perfectly.

As Star continued to twist, she could feel her boyfriend immerse himself back into the game playing, cursing every time the team he had his eyes on made a risky but effective move. They did whatever it took to keep the ball in the air on their side, pouring every ounce of power into their spikes to make the glorious smack noise on the other side of the net.

“Fuck I don’t know about this team? Maybe if I switched middle blockers or delayed the rotation a bit we could avoid that damn wall they got,” He muttered in the quiet space. The game was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon if both teams cleared their morning games. Star observed as she let down the next section of hair. Looked like they’ll both be up for a while.

***

“Another victory for Karusono.”

“One step closer to Nationals.”

“He might take us there, just like his old man.”

Another round for Coach!”

“Another round.”

“On me!”

She smirked into the foam of Keishin’s beer, happy that his half-hearted griping about her stealing it would be cut short thanks to the local patrons. No matter where you go in the world one thing remained the same. High school sports will always be a town’s shining glory.

“Congrats, Ukai! Can’t believe this is your first time coaching a team.”

“He must get it from the old crow bastard. You know what, your granddaddy owes me money if I remember right,” Star choked as she swallowed the last of the beverage just as her boyfriend received his new one. “I’ll let it go for now.”

Propped upon his hand, the man of the hour uttered a low drawl of thanks to their server. Keishin couldn’t talk much after the game, his voice hoarse from screaming from the sidelines for his team to act right. He nodded at every call of his name to acknowledge he heard their compliments and well wishes, all he really wanted was to look at Star.

Beads the same color scheme as his team’s colors clacked and jangled with every toss of her head. Keishin saw them when she walked into the gym swaying freely from her ends. By the end of the last set, the ropes of hair were tied into a low bun so she could focus on cheering for the crows and scolding the referee for bad calls. After the game he figured she would undo the scrunchie and shake her hair free, letting the small beads make as much noise as they wanted.

Even after seeing the boys off at the practice gym and grabbing a quick meal at his family-owned store, Star still had her hair pulled back. Keishin wanted-

“Hey, you good?” Her voice interrupted his vulgar thoughts before they began. But that wasn’t an issue for slummed and dumb Keishin.

“Can we go home so I can fuck your mouth?” Thankfully for his sake, the poorly ventilated room had gotten rowdy as the night went on. No one but her heard his request, not even his friends sitting on the other side of Keishin. Star could play this in a lot of ways. But as the coach of the team on the road to nationals, she decided he deserved her nicer side.

“Gimme your keys, Keishin.”

They didn’t make it out of the dimly lit parking lot. As soon as the doors had unlocked, Star had gotten him in the passenger side and strapped in before running around the front to slide into the driver’s seat. Her seatbelt hadn’t even made the chance to buckle properly before her arm was yanked over the console into his pants. Drops of beer still sat on his top lip but Keishin didn't bother wiping the residue before smashing their mouths together.

Star opened her mouth to let their tongues intermingle, swapping spit and clashing teeth like two overeager teenagers on prom night. Biting down on her lip, Keishin put in the effort to get his girl moving. “Please, baby,”

“So hot,” Star mumbled against his lips. She pecked the corner of his mouth and stretched her hand under the band of his clothing. “S’hard for me, Kei.”

“Move, Star. Godammit I’m-” His already flushed cheeks reddened more as he struggled to catch his breath. The smoothness of her warm palm working his dick, pausing every few strokes to rub the messy slit and nudge the metal pierced there, robbed his train of thought.

“You what, baby? Use your words for me.” Pretty words hid cruel intentions. Star groaned in his ear, dragging the end of every noise while her pace picked up, making sure to swipe at and squeeze the tip. “Tell me,”

“Need you so bad, baby. Gimme that throat. Been thinking about it since lunch.” Keishin confessed as his eyes rolled back into his skull. Suddenly the pressure around his flesh disappeared, taking his nearing high with it. “Star, baby, please don’t play right now.”

“Who’s playing?” Spitting into one hand and scratching the scruff on his face with the other, Star smiled at her boyfriend.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit,” His hips bucked up into her wet hand, chasing the feeling, not caring if the car rocked from his movements. She worked him so good, twisting and squeezing his dick, compelling his tip to ooze precum. She took the extra moisture and doubled down on her actions, bubbles made from body fluids saturating his base.

“You gonna cum for me coach? Make my hand all messy? But I gotta drive with it and I don't want nut all over the sterling wheel. Know what that means, Keishin?” He shook his head vehemently, worried that any delay in response would slow down her hand. “Means somebody’s gonna have to use their mouth to clean this mess up.”

The pit of his stomach contracted. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, but he forced himself to for a few seconds longer. He wanted to see her wrap her pretty lips around his dick. Strings of spit connected the bottom and top of her open mouth, breaking with the rough intrusion of his flesh in her orifice.

“Holy fuck,” He whined. He couldn’t not look. With a hand firmly grasping the passenger grab handle, Keishin braced himself for the sight in his lap.

Stuffing the monstrosity that was Keishin's dick down her throat was an act of masochism Star loved to inflict on herself. There hasn't been a time when she didn’t choke on the thickness of it or struggle to get the first inch past her gag reflex. One minute into slobbering over it and her brown eyes had begun to water.

“You can do it, babe. Just relax your throat for me,” Keishin encouraged his girlfriend, ignoring the light glare she gave him. Still, she moaned around his girth, rubbing what couldn’t fit in her mouth affectionately to spread the remaining slickness from before. “So sweet to me, Star.”

Just as he got used to the wet heat surrounding him did Star begin to ease his dick down her throat. Slowly her lips slid up his length until her nose buried into his pubic hair. Keishin couldn't stop his hips from bucking up and eliciting a whine from her. The beads in her hair clanged together the quicker his thrust became. Spittle surrounded his base and slid down to coat his balls. Star moaned when his meat started throbbing on her tongue. “So good for me, all nice and supportive, coming to my games, letting me fuck your little throat in the car.”

Star shut her eyes, praying to the universe that she would survive this, and bobbed her head along to his rhythm. Above her and barely holding onto sanity, Keishin groaned. The knot at the base of his spine grew, tugging at his balls to release his seed. “Fu-close. So fucking close. C’mere. Come here. Need a kiss from my star.”

She only had time to take in one breath before her lips crashed against his. Together they joined hands around his dick and tugged at it, putting special attention on the sensitive piercing that left the taste of metal in her mouth. He kissed her fervently, not letting her move away to breathe. His hips pistoned up, the car rocked, and his grasp on her hand and the handle tightened. His orgasm shot through him and cost him the grip around himself. Star continued without his aide, working him through the pulses. Leaving one last kiss on his moist lips, she leaned back in her seat, letting out a deep sigh.

“I told you I didn’t wanna make a mess,” Keishin grunted, still dazed in his post-nut high. Still, he could blearily make out the sight of her brown hand covered in his translucent white cum. Without hesitation, he yanked the limb to his mouth and began to lick it up.

“There. Now let's go home.” Star snorted and started the ignition. He’s always sleepy after cumming, but if he thought the pool in her panties would be ignored when they got to the apartment, he had another thing coming.

****

“Aww, poor baby. Too drunk to fuck his girlfriend?” Her cooing tone fogged his vision until keeping them open became pointless. Just as his lashes rested on his cheeks, a hot wet tongue skimmed the shell of his ear. “You got all that dick, and you ain't finna give me none? Can’t work it properly, can barely sit up straight. I gotta do all the work if I want to get off, huh?” Huffing at his weak responses to her, Star paused her rising. “That's foul as fuck, Kei.”

“m’sorry, baby. I can’t-”

“Can’t or won’t?” She shot back, lowering her body in his lap. Despite his protests, he groaned and attempted to move, wanting to make her feel as good as she made him feel in the bar’s parking lot. The most his intoxicated and lethargic body could do was maintain an erection and slobber at her tits bouncing in his face.

“Can’t! I want to baby, you gotta believe me…” To prove his sincerity, Keishin lurched forward and tongued her nipples, stroking the hard peaks and leaving marks around her areola. Star cursed, burrowing her hand in his blonde locks. Her plush walls gripped his tough flesh as it kissed the depths of her pussy. Her pace stuttered as he groped at her ass. “Want you so bad, wanna make you feel good.”

Pleasure thrummed through her body. Even half-assed, he could make her feel this good. Her body struggled to keep going but didn’t seem to catch on. It took a lot out of her, fucking herself on his dick. Star had to shift the work on him.

“If you’re not gonna fuck me right, shut up.” Keishin could only whine into her flesh. A girl as amazing as her deserved a proper fucking. What if she left him after this? What if she found someone else, someone better to fuck her?

“Please, please, please, I’m sorry I can do it! I promise,” And that’s when everything changed for Star. Tackled on her back, a loud moan flew out her mouth carelessly as Keishin took over. The sound of his hips smashing into hers, his balls smacking onto her ass, his dick burying itself into her juicy cunt only to pull out and repeat sounded like angels in a choir to her. The bed rocked with his fast pace, he was too scared to leave her core so he stuck to shallow thrusts. Unaware of how his piercing relentlessly stimulated the rough patch inside her.

“That's, ah, better,” Star squeaked out. She could feel his weak smile against her chest. “More, Kei. Need more.”

“Like this? Star, baby, please. Am I doing it right?” He muttered against sweaty skin. His spit coated her collarbone like a necklace. His grip readjusted to push one of her thighs to lay flat on the bed, increasing the room between her legs and tightening her hole around him. It made it harder for him to concentrate with his dick being suffocated by such wet hot walls. But for her, for his star, he’d keep going. Wrapped up in his thoughts and impending climax, Keishin ignored her answers of gasping breathy sounds of encouragement. “Can’t let this pussy leave. Can’t leave me, baby.”

Her back arched off the bed as he began to toy with her engorged clit that had gone ignored for most of the night. Oxygen couldn’t get into her lungs fast enough. “Keishin,”

“I’m here baby. Fuck I wanna cum so bad. Can I cum in you, Star?” Her nails dug into him while her mind strung together a response.

“You. still. being. so selfish. Keishinnnn,” Star said while his dick continued to batter her insides. Keishin would be coming inside her regardless, what she really cared about is if her boyfriend would get her to cum before him. As her words sunk in, he worked harder, keeping one hand on her clit he moved the other to yank her hair to the side, beads clanging together in his tight clutch.

“M’not selfish.” He pleaded. Star could feel the tremors creep in, her core tightening around him, bearing down to prepare for her climax. Wet kisses were left all over her face in a last-ditch effort to clear his name. “Love you so much, need you, baby. Always wanna make you feel good. You’re my-”

“Keishin.” Her hips bucked up as her head pressed into their mattress. Star couldn’t stop the whining she let out as his hips met hers, keeping her pussy stimulated as it tried to concave in on itself. He grunted but forced his flesh in and out of her while rolling her nub to prolong her pleasure. Even when her body relaxed and she rode the waves of endorphins, he kept digging into her.

“Fuck Star, can’t stop.” Incoherent babbling filled her ears as Keishin gave his last few pumps before shooting his load right into her waiting cervix. “Shit, so good. My star feels so good. Gotta stay with me. Got to,” Keishin let his weight fall on her, too busy letting out his repressed lovesick thoughts now that he had his love allergic girlfriend hostage.

A bit later, when his unguarded thoughts turned to muffled nonsense then into soft snoring, Star nudged him to get off her. “How’d a coach this sappy get his team to finals?” She muttered, lightly, combing through his hair. Resigning herself to the fate of cleaning dried cum off her in the morning, she closed her eyes. “Love you too, Kei.”

#written by junk💋 #ukai keishin #ukai x black reader #ukai x reader #ukai imagine #ukai smut #ukai keishin x black reader #ukai keishin x reader #keishin x reader #haikyu x black oc #haikyu x black reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #black oc #black reader #female reader #last ditch effort for fluff at the end #this will be a fluff piece idc #sappy ukai keshin #star said #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #post and run