Bokuto Is The Type To Ask U How Much You Weigh Only Because He Wants To Put That Weight Onto A Barbell

bokuto is the type to ask u how much you weigh only because he wants to put that weight onto a barbell and send u a video of him hip thrusting it at the gym

I’m writing a Shinsou x reader fics based on “I bet in losing dogs” by Mitski. Holy shit, we’re really in it now.

Category: smut, angst

Warnings: smoking, sort of jjk spoilers but not really stated clearly, angsty, cursing, gojo being smitten is a warning of it’s own

Summary: Your ability allows you to see visions of the future. Once you see your lover dead, you can’t help but want to pull away and keep him safe

***

Satoru awakes when the sun is about to rise and colour the world in molten gold. It’s not a peaceful awakening, not the usual smell of coffee you brewed after slipping out of his grasp in the early hours of the morning and not the sound of you humming a melody only known to you.

Your screams tug at the strings of his heart in a way he didn’t even think was possible and before he’s even fully awake, his muscular arms reach out to wrap themselves around you, their goal to comfort and to ground you. He was still here and you were still safe.

Your eyes flutter open and closed like the wings of a butterfly, breathing erratic and uneven.

Gojo was always a selfish man and how could he not be if almost everyone worshipped not only him but the ground he walked on. A god amongst mortals, an angel meant to erase the sins of the humanity. Right now, he would do anything to take your pain away, to ease the trembling of your cold hands and calm down the way your heart is beating too fast.

A worse side of your technique, being able to summon anything you dreamed of last night, were the obscure visions of the future.

He’s learned not to ask right after, to allow you time to calm down and get your voice back. He’s more worried about you than curious about the future. A fleeting thought that this would never be the case for anyone else but you comes and goes.

When you do finally speak, your voice is croaky and barely audible, muttered into his dark shirt.

“You were dead.”

Three short words and his hands that have been stroking your back softly, freeze. Satoru thinks he misheard you. The idea of him dying is simply ridiculous. Who would be able to kill the strongest sorcerer alive? Sure, he’s had his doubts about Sukuna, but he’s certain he’d win if it came down to it.

“Darling, are you sure that it was me? Your visions are often unclear.”

Is all he thinks to say and his hands come back to your back, motions slow and comforting. Satoru doesn’t want you to know that his heart skipped a beat, that he’s a tad bit worried, ever since your visions about Nanami came true. Ever since all your interferences with the future proved to be fruitless. Ever since they had no body to bury.

Your face finally lifts up, chin resting on his chest, eyes red-rimmed and tearful. His hand touches your cheek and it’s hot to the touch.

“It was the clearest one I’ve ever had, Satoru.” you take a moment to gather your thoughts, to take a deep breath. The vision is engrained into your mind, playing over and over like a broken record. “I tr- fuck, tried to save you and it didn’t work. Nothing worked, I couldn’t- I was too weak to save you.”

And you burst into tears again, soft, heaving sobs slipping past your soft lips. If Satoru thought that it had hurt before, he doesn’t know what to compare this to. He briefly thinks of Suguru, but ultimately brushes it off.

He mumbles your name and kisses your forehead as softly as he can manage. All he knows is violence and fighting and surviving, but with you, he manages to hide all the ragged edges just enough.

“Ah.” Is all Satoru says for a moment, a hum of acknowledgement. He’s speechless for a moment as his worst suspicions are suddenly confirmed. Satoru doesn’t have to dwell on the thought that he cares more about what happens to you than to him. “What happens to you… In this vision?”

You slowly blink up at him, eyes glazed for a moment. He recognises that expression as you trying to recall every single detail of the vision. It’s so bittersweet, Satoru thinks, that you don’t even remember seeing yourself in that vision, only caring about him.

Soon, you come back to him, brows furrowed and expression drowned in worry.

“I try to heal you and… And I don’t even notice Sukuna coming back behind me. It hurts, for a bit, and then it’s dark. The vision ends.”

Gojo swallows and closes his eyes for a moment. What is he supposed to say? His jaw is tense, and when his eyes open again, he finds you even more worried than before.

“Love… Listen, that’s not going to happen, alright? I’ll make sure of it.”

He rewards you with one more kiss on your forehead as if that would help. He’d like to think that, but he finds himself horribly mistaken when you slip out of his grasp. You’re still only in your shirt and underwear, the only accessories being the bruises left on your hips that are now covered.

You rummage through the drawers and he sits up to observe. Your still trembling hands reach for a pack of cigarettes and a baby pink lighter. Gojo never liked you doing that. He never cared for alcohol and nicotine, choosing to see his body as a temple.

He worshipped you a lot, whispering prayers of your name a lot more than prayers he would in a temple, but clearly not enough.

“You really think death isn’t coming to us? Even after Shibuya?”

You shook your head and slipped out to the large balcony attached to the bedroom. Everything in his apartment was expensive and you often complained about feeling out of place. Of course, Satoru thought that you were right where you’re supposed to be.

When he climbs out of bed, he doesn’t need to shake away the sleep. It’s like a second nature to follow you out, the cold air of the early morning biting at his skin. He always has his infinity off when with you. Satoru doesn’t want you to feel like you could ever be denied the comfort of his touch.

He finds you smoking. The white trails leave your lips and disappear into the air as if they were never there. He finds himself at a loss of words once again. A strange and foreign feeling.

Satoru’s arms wrap around your waist and he slumps his large body over you like an oversized heated blanket. For you, he can ignore the smell of the cigarettes.

“Darling, please, listen. There’s nothing that could stop me from protecting you. I won’t let anyone harm you, ever.”

Satoru is careful not to say ‘as long as I’m alive’, bites his tongue to not let it slip. If this vision proves to be as truthful as your prior ones, he might have to reconsider the promises before making them.

You take another long drag before sighing softly. He doesn’t know that you’re also reconsidering your words.

“I don’t care about what happens to me, Satoru. You die.”

And your words hurt, he can feel the physical pain in his chest, his heart clenching. How could you ever say that? How could you put his life above yours? So many would, so many would disregard another sorcerer’s life for his, but never you. At the start of the relationship, he had made it clear that you were equals. Everything was back to base one.

“Please.” he’s used to people begging him, worshipping him, not the other way around. Once again, he is reminded, that for you he can be mortal, ordinary and nothing special. A normal person without the weight of the whole sorcerer society depending on him. “I’m begging you to not say such things. How can you disregard your life just like that?”

You stay quiet for a while and then put out your cigarette, turning to him. He notices the tears in your eyes and his immediate instinct is to wipe them off. He wants to give you space, though so he stays glued to the floor.

“I think my visions are not a warning. A warning would mean that the future could be changed, for better or for worse, anyway. We have tried so many times.” the words are quiet and your tone utterly defeated. You’re similar to a kicked dog right now. Yet, your eyes rise up and you come back to the hand that feeds. “We’ve tried so many times and It has never suceeded. Nanamin is still dead, Sukuna is still alive. It’s a curse more than a gift.”

Gojo wants to wish it all away. Your pain and your sorrows, your worries and your decreasing self-worth. He knows that there is nothing he can do to stop your mind from spiralling.

He whispers your name but you don’t allow him to speak, your hands raised.

“I think it’s just like… Someone saying to me ‘here is your future, take it and deal with it’ and…”

This time, Satoru is the one not allowing you to finish your words. He can’t listen to this anymore, can’t listen to this unchangable future shit. The future is always shifting, things are always happening and transforming the events, preventing them from happening and creating new ones.

“So that’s it? You’re accepting your fate and not trying to change it? And you’re fine with that?”

He can’t keep his voice from rising in volume, pretty, perfect face scrunched up. Satoru doesn’t know how to shake sense into you, how to make you see that you both can still change the future, prevent your deaths.

“I am fine.”

Is all you say, before putting the cigarette out and slipping back inside. Your skin is covered in goosebumps. His feet follow you before his mind can catch up.

“You clearly are not.” Satoru says as you pace around the room, not knowing what to do with yourself. He’s right behind you. It’s an instinct to try to calm you down. “Will you just listen to me? Nothing’s happening to me, or you. Fuck the future, fuck everything.”

You finally fall into his arms, but Satoru doesn’t dare sigh in relief. You’re about to say something again, and he’s about to give you more logical arguments. A cursed circle that never stops running. What can he even do to stop it?

“I think… I think that you’re a god, and I’m your dog.” you say and Satoru’s voice hitches in his throat. What was going on in your head right now, to make you say something like that, to even think something like that. “You tell me to stop worrying and I do, you demand me to calm down and I listen. Ultimately, you tell me to jump and I ask you ‘how high?’.”

Satoru freezes, the hands that held you limp by his sides as he pulls away. It was so completely unlike you, so unnatural. The visions have completely broken you and he doesn’t know how to bring you back, he really doesn’t, god he doesn’t know what to do.

“You are my dog?” he repeats, his tone harsher than before as he fails to wrap his head around the idea that you could say such a thing. “Are you still dizzy from your visions or are you taking a shot at making me upset?”

He shakes his head and pulls away from you, his large hands on your shoulders.

“It’s the truth.” you respond, avoiding his harsh gaze, pretending not to notice the weight of his hands on your shoulders.

“Well, I think your truth is stupid.” he retorts, hands shaking as he pulls them away from you, as if your skin burned him.

“And I think you should leave me.”

The words leave you and it’s like the time stops for Satoru. It’s a punch to his ego. Does he not love you enough? Not cherish you enough? Do you see him as the kind of man that would leave as soon as things got hard? How foolish, how utterly stupid.

“What are you saying now?” he all but yells, his temper no longer controlled as you look up at him with those teary eyes. What can he even do? What is he supposed to do?

Your whole body is shaking as you turn away from him. “In my vision, you died saving me. Leaving me can change the future.”

And suddenly, it all clicks for him. Why you were so insistant to push him away, why you seemed so hopeless. Protecting him by hurting yourself. How completely selfless, how utterly stupid.

“Oh, honey that’s…” he pulls you to him, wrapping his body around you until there’s nothing but him. His pretty girl is in tears. his pretty, perfect girl hurting. “I would never leave you, my love. Never once in a million lifetimes. I’m yours, darling, and you’re mine. We talked about the red string theory once and I’m afraid that I’m tied to you, hm?”

It’s not a question and he’s trailing kisses down your exposed neck. Your arms raise up on instinct and Satoru slips your, well, his shirt off of you. He knows you need him right now, to bring you back, to assure you, once again, that he’s yours, that he’ll stay despite everything.

Satoru lays you down on the bed as if you’re the most precious treasure and you look up at him, with those wide eyes, handing him your trust along with your heart.

“My pretty girl, my perfect girl.” he drawls, pressing kisses along your exposed chest and down your belly, until he reaches your underwear, playfully biting the little bow on them. “Can I take these off?”

You nod, but that’s not enough for him and he nips at the skin of your thigh, causing you to yelp. “Words, pretty girl.”

“Yes.” you answer, after a beat of silence.

And he’s granted heaven. Satoru slides off your underwear and tosses them somewhere into the room. More soft kisses follow and your breath hitches when his lips kiss where you need him most.

His skilled tongue flicks over your clit and your back immediately arches off of the bed. Coming down from so many emotions and reaching so many new ones left you more sensitive than ever.

Gojo chuckles and repeats the motion, before obliging your quiet whine with a practiced clockwise motion. He repeats the motion a few more times, revelling at the taste of you and the sound of your whines and soft moans. His pretty pretty girl.

He carefully enters one finger into you and immediately finds the spot that has you gasping. With each motion, he brings you back to himself, back to being completely his, none of that silly nonsense you were spewing before. He adds another, when he deems you wet enough.

Two of his fingers are already so much more than yours could ever be and the way his tongue keeps flicking over your clit in all the right ways has you moaning his name like a prayer. Truly, he’s the one praying to you.

“Ngh- Sa-Satoru, I-“

You don’t need to finish your sentence in order for him to know what you’ll say next. The flutter of your eyelashes and the way you squeeze his fingers so hard that he’s barely able to move them in and out is a telltale sign.

“You can cum, pretty girl. Mm, my pretty girl.”

He mumbles and then his tongue gets back to it’s former movements. You come with a high-pitched whine and he’s glad to finally taste you. Ambrosia couldn’t compare.

You come back down from your high and he’s already hovering over you, mouth wiped clean as he presses a bunch of butterfly kisses over your skin, anything he can touch.

He’s content with just pleasing you, with having you even a step closer to him. Back to where you are supposed to be. What a silly thought, that he’d ever consider leaving you when he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, the way he has never looked at anyone else.

Your eyes open and focus on him as you kiss him back, as soft as you can manage. Your hands bury into his hair and you have the adoring look back in your gaze. Even if it’s for a little while, before your worries start up again, he’s content.

“Want more, Toru, want you.”

Satoru swears that his eyes light up once he hears your words. You’re taking another step towards him, you’re almost back to him. “Are you sure, my love?”

You nod eagerly and it’s enough for him to take his clothes off. Your eyes are focused on his strong body, the sculpted muscles, the light hair that trails from his bellybutton right to his length.

He lays over you, careful not to let his weight fall onto you, always so careful with you. He rubs his cock over your pussy, covering it with your slick, attentive to make the intrusion as easy and pleasurable as possible.

He’s careful when he slides the tip in yet you still let out a soft whine. Satoru is a big man, towering over everyone no matter what room he’s in, it only makes sense that his cock is big, too. Doesn’t really help that he’s quite gifted on top of that.

“I know, I know, yeah. Hold onto me, darling. Mm, my love is doing so well.”

He feeds inch after inch of his large cock into you, watching your reactions deliberately, making sure not to hurt you.

Both you and Satoru moan when his pelvis meets yours, the sensation euphoric. His thrusts start out slow. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your head falls back onto the pillow as your moans get louder. He’s the only man who’s able to fuck you like this, to reach all the spots inside of you that make your eyes water.

“Do you feel good, darling? Am I making my perfect girl feel good.”

Your hands go over to cover your face and he tuts, pulling them away and gathering your wrists in one of his hands. It never fails to surprise you on how big they are. He, however, wants to see every reaction and hear every sound leaving you.

“Y-Yes, so good, feels so good.” You manage between loud moans. Screw the neighbours, Satoru thinks, screw everyone who isn’t you and him.

“Yeah? I feel good, too. So good, baby, so good. You’re perfect for me, the gods created you for me, yeah? So no more nonsense about me leaving.”

Your face heats up and back arches. His words reach you and then float around your otherwise empty mind.

His thrusts get quicker and less calculated as his head is thrown back. A quiet sigh of contentment leaves his pretty, glossy lips.

“Yeah, that’s right. No one. But us. Exists. Right now.” Satoru punctuates each little word with a deep thrust, breaths uneven, eyes closed in pleasure. “And we’ll overwrite the future if need be. If it means I get to stay. Then so be it.”

Another long, languid thrust and you come, nails dragging over his back as he spills into you, filling you with warmth.

You both take a moment to catch your breaths and soon, Satoru rolls off of you, his softened dick slipping out. He pulls you close to himself and presses a kiss to your forehead as you’re dozing off.

“Meant what I said. I’m staying and you won’t get rid off me, yeah? I love you more than I love anyone else, would die for you, kill for you… Perfect girl, my perfect girl.”

Satoru is not sure if you hear him before falling asleep, but he’ll be sure to remind you, should you ever forget again.

watching nana gave me major depression and an obsession with vivienne westwood.

nsfw / fem!reader

surprisingly, miya atsumu knows how to not be loud; you used to think you were the quiet one in the relationship.

during movies, he’d usually lean over to tell you how he knows that actress from somewhere, a finger pointing at the screen, and the entire cinema would hear. back in college, you’d be whispering about a professor that annoyed you, and when he’d answer you, he’d speak loud enough for the whole room to know.

when he’s on the court during a game, he’d announce his team’s next strategy like it was a public service announcement. he’d laugh so proudly after too, and the pleading looks you’d get from sakusa to get your man to shut up would make him laugh even harder.

so you couldn’t believe it when you found out that miya atsumu knew how to stay quiet — well, it was really him finding out that you could be louder than him, because how could he believe it when his meek and quiet little girlfriend could moan so loud for the whole city to hear?

he’s pounding into you from behind, your hips slowly being mottled with shades of purple and yellow from the strong grip his fingers had on them, and you’re so loud; he’s already gagged you with your soiled panties and shoved your head down into the pillow, but still, you’re so fucking loud.

“be quiet for me, princess,” his voice quietly rasped, right hand squeezing your bruised hip as a warning. “don’t want the neighbors hearing how needy you are — just me, yeah? only your tsumu can hear.”

he thinks he hears a muffled yeah amongst the unintelligible babbles and groans, but he still grabs you by your hair and pulls your head back to his shoulder. his right arm wraps around your waist, pinning his chest to your back, and his left hand releases your hair to throw your panties out of your mouth before wrapping around your neck. his hips continue to piston in and out of you and he’s sure you’d collapse without his hold from how much your legs are shaking.

“you gonna stay quiet for me now?” he chuckles, right hand dipping down to play with your clit.

and as soon as you’re about to say that you can’t, your climax hits you out of nowhere. your eyes squeeze shut and tears drip down your face while your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“so good for me, baby,” he groans, watching how good you look when you cum, “so fucking good.”

but he doesn’t stop, and he continues hit that spot with every thrust, fingers unceasing in its movements.

“stay quiet for me a little more, princess? i’m not done.”

#𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ it’s not suguru’s fault satoru doesn’t treat you right, and it’s not his fault he can treat you better

— pairing ⋮ geto x reader (x gojo)

— tags ⋮ nsfw 18+, fem! reader, toxic! gojo, gojo x reader in the beginning, college! au, cheating (you on gojo), lovesick geto, toxic relationships, mentions of alcohol and drinking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, slight exhibitionism (he fucks you against a window), disclaimer this is purely fiction

— word count ⋮ 6.8k

— notes ⋮ ty ris and kitty cat for beta reading and micheth and boy scout and viva my love for looking over bits and helping me as i sobbed dbdhjfggf love you all tons

the party should be boring—it should be a bit of a slow one since it’s date night for you and gojo. geto figures if he’s not going to be occupied by his best friend, then he might as well occupy himself with a stranger for the night. it’s a bit of a routine, really, fishing out girls with eyes as close to yours as he can find, and a smile as sweet as he can get. it’s never enough, but he supposes it’s better than nothing.

he smiles at a few girls, watches the way their eyes brighten and their lashes bat and their smiles are so sincere, and then he can’t help but imagine what your smile would look like if you looked at him like that. 

he’s broken from his thoughts when he sees a pair of very familiar eyes—ones that are all too close to yours, and then he furrows his brows. it can’t be you—can it? you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be enjoying the night with his best friend (although, the thought does make his blood boil, so he can’t really say he’s complaining if you’re not.)

but he’s not mistaken, and there you are, walking in clung to gojo’s arm and pressed into his side (as always) as he saunters up to geto, and there’s a slight glumness on your face that geto can’t help but notice. he offers you a gentle smile, one you just barely reciprocate, one that even as fleeting and half-hearted as it is, makes his heart pound in his chest. he lets gojo clap his shoulder in greeting as he offers a nod in response, eyes still trained on you as you stare down at your feet. 

you look perfect. 

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