Had An Exhausting Day At Work And Click On This Lil Blue App To See 20+ Notifications About Yall Liking

had an exhausting day at work and click on this lil blue app to see 20+ notifications about yall liking my writing. oh I needed this🥹 I love yall💙💜

inbox open to anyone that wanna talk

this getting updated next

12 Inch Tongue

What is college really? Why are we alive? Why am I voluntarily stressing myself out? Bc, I am broke. Anyways this might be a new series, idk. If yall want me to continue it let me know.

As always it's Sukuna x Black!fem!OC. for all sukuna pieces I use the name Bunny, so If you see other sukuna fics on my blog, they are not connected unless otherwise stated.

Characters: Bunny (OC), Nobara, Megumi, Itadori. Sukuna is mentioned.

Rating: PG-13.

“Me and Nobora are gonna stop at this store real quick,” Bunny announced, brown hands already wrapped around her friend’s arm to separate the group of four into two. Nobara looked over at her friend in confusion, but Bunny refused to look her in the eyes. Rolling her light brown eyes, the sorcerer looked over to the other freshmen in her class.

“Yeah. You boys can go to the food court and gorge on chili cheese fries or whatever it is boys do.” Megumi and Itadori shared a long look between them before shrugging and walking away.

“Whatever.”

“Don’t take too long, guys.” And with that, the girls were left alone. Nobara wasted no time turning to her friend. Curiosity and impatience growing in her person. People passed by the duo in the mall, hiding them from view.

“What’s the deal?”

“I gotta...buy something-”

“Yes. We are at a mall. That’s what fiscally irresponsible college kids do.” Bunny shot her a look and waited for Nobara’s ruffled feathers to settle.

“It’s something personal, and I didn’t want the boys asking questions if I went alone so-”

“Wait, wait, wait…” the Japanese woman interrupted her one more time, gears in her head beginning to turn for an answer. Bunny looked away again, hope and fear clear as day in her eyes. Nobara didn’t have a quiet bone in her body. If she shouted out what Bunny thought she was thinking, not even her dark skin would save her from the embarrassment that would bloom on her face. “Are you saying you need to buy a dildo-”

“Shut up, Nobara! You don’t have to say it out loud.” Bunny grumbled, unable to meet her friend’s gaze. Her body temperature had peaked through the roof.

“Oh, stop spazzing! It’s not that big a deal. It’s practically essential in every woman’s life. Let’s go.” Nobara continued her rambling about how disappointing men could be and why toys should be given to women by the government. Bunny quietly walked by her friend’s side, too frazzled to offer much to the conversation. It’s not that she was embarrassed or ashamed of deriving pleasure from toys, this was just something Bunny would rather keep private with as few people in the know as possible. Something that would have been impossible if she ordered anything online and sent it to the dorms.

Jujitsu Tech University had strict rules for students living on campus. Outside of packages from family or generic stores, all deliveries were scanned for possible curses or suspicious items. The toy Bunny had in mine checked one of those boxes.

They arrived at the store after a quick stop at a smoothie stand. Nobara took the lead, guiding her friend through the aisles to the desired section.

“Should I ask how you know where they place items? Or how you knew what shop I was even thinking about?” Bunny teased lightly. She couldn’t see it but Nobara smirked without giving an answer. Together the girls perused the aisle, pointing at anything that piqued their interest.

“What happened to the shy girl act?”

“I wasn’t shy! This is just something I’d like to not be public information. The boys don’t need to know what gets me off. Especially Itadori…” Though she whispered the last part, Nobara choking on her beverage let Bunny know that it was heard regardless.

“You like Itadori?” Bunny pushed her curly mane back to let the air conditioning hit her neck. She let out a quiet ‘no’ to Nobara’s disappointment. Brown eyes sparkled and a brown hand skimmed the packaging of the toy in front of her. It was massive, bigger than the toys she had in her home country. The realistic veins running down the side of the toy sent shivers down her spine. It was a strong contender. “So why did you say Itadori, then.”

“Well… if Itadori knows then...so will uhm, Sukuna.” Gods, let the floor open up and swallow Bunny whole. She moved on from the realistic dildo that caught her attention to the novelty toys.

“Sukuna? Evil 1,000-year-old Sukuna? Biggest Curse on the planet Sukuna? The sukuna with-” Nobara stopped her bombardment of questions to process who exactly Bunny talking about. She followed her friend’s gaze to a bumpy pink vibrator. “Oh, you nasty bitch. The Sukuna with the 12 inch tongue?”

Bunny froze. She could feel her heartbeat all the way down to her toes. Gratefulness sprang from her to her past self for picking a hairstyle big enough to hide her from Nobara’s eyesight. Robotically, brown hands picked up the vibrator and the other item that liked earlier and stiffly walked to the register.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me. I’m right aren’t I?” Her friend harassed her all the way to the front of the store where she paid for her items, paying no mind to the heckling. The pair left the store, a discreet bag in the hands of Bunny, to make their way back to the boys. “Okay I’ll stop. I’m not judging you! We like what we like, right?”

“You are so judging me. I can feel it. You have a very oppressive aura.” Bunny said.

“Okay, I am judging you,” Nobara grabbed the brown woman’s hand before she could let out a sound of victory. “But! I am also not judging you. Like, Do I get it? Hell no. But we all have weird kinks.”

Bunny felt oddly comforted by those words. She couldn’t think of anything to say back, so the girls walked in silence. They found the boys at the food court, their table filled with empty containers and trays. On Megumi’s side, he had organized his trash for easy disposal. The opposite could be said for Itadori.

Megumi looked at the girls and at the bag in his classmate’s hand as he stood up.

“Let’s go. We have a mission.”

kinda wanna mass delete a lot of my fics 🧍🏾‍♀️

I aint even like andrew garfield like that until yall lil nasties kept throwing smut fics of him in my face. now look at me, obsessed with another white man.

I had two reactions reading your comments

1. me, when I saw your name in my notifs:

you make posting worth it I swear to god. im smiling hard as hell in traffic.

2. bruce in the next few chapters:

"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.

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.”