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

eighteen PATHETIC MEN in your AREA with the WETTEST SADDEST EYES youve ever seen want to TALK ABOUT THE WORST MUSIC YOUVE EVER HEARD with YOU!

JJK 236 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

Gojo x reader angst. Not proofred, I’m in shambles, refuse to believe this. I’m so sorry my sunshine.

It was a cold night when you both laid in the balcony of your shared apartment. It was in the suburbs, so the night sky was visible. Little by little, darkness swallowed all the rays of golden sunshine and what seemed to be millions of stars lit up his handsome face. You turned to him softly, a hand reaching out for him, yet stopping.

Satoru always had his infinity off when he was with you, yet there was still hesitation. The white-haired man turned to you, ocean blue eyes managing to fit so many emotions in just a single fleeting glance. He reached out first, carefully touching your cold hand.

"What’s on your mind?” he asked softly.

When he was with you, in the comfort of your shared home, he didn’t need to pretend. No jokes, no tricks, no faked cheery personality. He didn’t need to be the strongest when he was with you. You simply needed him. Satoru was enough, flaws and hurts, pain and suffering and all the mangled, torn up bits of him that would push away anyone else. You stayed. You always stayed. Satoru wasn’t perfect, but he was yours and that was enough.

The wind blew through his hair, the strands flying into his perfect face as he smiled gently, still awaiting your answer.

“Can you promise me something, Satoru?”

He didn’t even draw a breath before you got your answer.

“Anything.”

You stayed quiet for a moment. Was what you’re about to say too much? Would someone, up there above in the night sky, mock you and laugh? A mere mortal asking for a promise from a man akin to god. You hoped they wouldn’t, granting you salvation, if even only for tonight.

“Please promise you’ll always come back to me.”

This time, Satoru hesitated. His eyes once again focused on yours and he wrapped you up in a comforting embrace. His breaths were soft and warm on your skin as you closed your eyes. Did the gods already laugh? A flash of lightning came down from the sky, illuminating Gojo’s concerned face.

Perhaps it was their warning, a sign to stop asking for so much. But was it really too much?

Satoru softly kissed you, his lips feeling like heaven on yours. It took a moment for him to pull away, a smile on his pale face, as if concern shown before was nothing but a trick of your mind.

“You know I always come back to you.”

After a while, you slipped into numb, dreamless sleep in your embrace. Gojo carried you back to your shared bed, pulling you closer to him, as if afraid that you’d disappear.

What you weren’t aware of, is that he was praying to the same gods. A life with you, nothing more would be enough for him. The sun came up slowly, and Gojo knew that his prayers would not be answered.

***

You clutched your lover’s body to yours, deep sobs wretching their way out of your throat.

The world seemed silent as your whispers of promises to fix him up, to make everything okay again, trailed off into the night.

Nobody would answer you now. For the first time ever, his body was cold to touch.

You screamed and screeched at everyone, trying to get close.

“He has his infinity off! Do-don’t! Don’t fucking touch him!”

Nothing was ever going to be fine again. No… ‘Fine’ was not the right word to use. You were never going to be whole. Tonight, the gods and monsters ripped away a part of your soul, the one that has crawled inside you and taken up so much more space than your own.

You looked up to the inky black sky, as if to say one last prayer. To make Satoru un-break his promise. To make him come back safe and sound, like he was always meant to.

There were twice as many stars as usual.

prompt: post-apocalypse ghost/reader fic where ghost and the rest of his team come across the feral, blood-soaked reader who stabs first and asks questions later. (on ao3 here)

-

The world ends on a Monday.

Abysmal timing; they’re on leave by chance, the whole lot of them. Soap and Gaz are playing cards in the barracks when they get the call. Price is still in his office when a phone in the corner of the room that never rings suddenly does (he stares at it for a time before picking it up). Ghost is someplace, no one knows for sure; what they do know is that when he does finally answer their calls, he’s out of breath and there’s a thread of panic in his voice that makes the blood in Soap’s veins run cold. 

He’s never heard him sound like that. He never will again.

The virus rages across the country, hopping borders like they melt away into the ether. Country after country toppelling to this unnamed virus that demolishes society so completely that there was never a chance for the military to contain it. That chance evaporates before even the faintest spark of hope is lit. 

Soap is used to killing, but what he never gets used to is the sight of those things that take human shape. Calling them zombies is easy at first, but even that name comes with a sense of distance; it evokes things seen in films and tv shows, not the real flesh-and-blood of it all, not sitting in a caravan speeding down the motorway with bodies torn apart and scattered across the road. He learns to bite his teeth and hold his bile down at the sight of one of those creatures hunched over the masticated remains of a person. 

Then suddenly it’s seven months later. The core unit of them make their way across the continent, taking back roads where they’re less likely to encounter the hoards of infected. They’ve had too many close calls for them to take chances anymore—even armed to the gills and strapped in body armor (the remnants of the military efforts that collapsed within days), Gaz’s shoulder pad has crumpled beneath too sharp teeth and Roach has had his legs swept out from under him, his throat nearly exposed, nearly torn open.

Ghost’s hands are still wet with gore from taking that infected apart. If any of them make it, it will likely be him.

A part of Soap worries about Ghost. Even he feels the tender edges of his own humanity bristle at the day-in and day-out struggle that is now a luxury rather than a hardship. Just being able to survive is a miracle. Ghost just goes dark. From the little Soap knows of Ghost (which is still more than most; he’s confident enough to say that of their group, he’s the one that Ghost shows himself to the most), he knows that Ghost has already endured enough suffering for an army. Never mind a single man. 

There’s a flatness behind his eyes these days and it scares Soap, just a bit. He no longer looks like a person behind a mask but rather the sun-baked skull itself. 

His worry only fades when they come across the girl.

She’s a feral little thing, half-starved and out of her mind. They see her slip in and out of abandoned houses when they make their way through a small village in the French countryside (or what Soap thinks is France), hair matted with sweat and blood. 

It’s Ghost that pauses, Ghost that makes them stop and detours long enough to creep up on her, holding a big hand to her mouth when she howls and tries to tear his whole arm off. It takes over an hour to calm her down long enough to reassure her that they mean her no harm. She tries to take off no less than six times.

Soap has never seen Ghost look smitten, but there’s no other word for it. 

When Price tentatively suggests leaving the girl behind—not a terrible suggestion after she tries to stab Ghost—the look Ghost levels him with brooks no further arguments. They’re keeping the girl. 

She’s his problem, as far as Soap and the rest of them are concerned. No name, unless it’s Soap yelling “Girl” or “Hey, you!” when she does something stupid like actively seeking out infected to kill. Ghost chuckles all deep baritone when he sees her hack away at an infected man’s neck. It’s enough to make a man hurl. Love in a time of zombies. 

He hears them murmuring to each other sometimes, late at night when the team is holed up in a house or a barn they’ve commandeered. Doors always reinforced, someone standing guard on the roof. The low rasp of Ghost’s voice, almost susurrous, almost intimate. Her voice like a chittering wolf. 

Hovering between sleep and wakefulness, Soap doesn’t look away from the wall in front of him. He knows if he does, if he turns over from where he’s supposed to be sleeping, he’ll see Ghost hovering over the girl roughly half his size, her face blocked only by the way his arms frame either side of her head. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stomach the sight of his friend’s hips bucking into the girl.

He hears him mutter something like, “You needed to be found. I needed to find you.” and then it’s enough. He lets his brain shut off. 

If it keeps Ghost sane and with them, so be it. 

Chapter two: The soul in my heart's proof of life

Word count: 2.8k

Category: hard angst, smut

Chapter warnings: drugs, mentions of medicine and hospitals, descriptions of drugs

Summary: There are three hot guys who want to be with you, however, there are a few problems along the way. One of them is a plug, another one wants to keep you all to himself and the third one - a med student who deals drugs on the side. Your main problem, though? You have a terminal illness that has a very low life expectancy. Spiraling down a dangerous path seems like a fun way to spend your last years.

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Series masterlist

"Right on time," Suna drawls as he smiles down at you.

The police officer gets closer with each passing breath. You’re screwed.

Or maybe not yet. The police officer is an older man – that much you can tell from the way his dark hair is peppered with gray streaks and the small wrinkles under his dark eyes. He’s smiling as he looks you up and down, making you feel plain dirty. You hated older men in power; gave them too much of an ego boost. Yet, you didn’t want to go down for drug charges so you batted your lashes and mustered your sweetest smile, while cursing yourself out in your mind.

"Hello there," he nods at you three, but his beady eyes are staring only at you.

"Hello officer," greets Suna, the blunt hanging from his lips long gone and forgotten, "What brings you here today?"

The man chuckles. They’re familiar with each other. It’s the same man that caught Suna with drugs the first two times.

"You know the drill. Stand straight and spread your arms." Suna obeys and stands in the position the officer has requested. He’s calm. Of course he is - his drugs are in your coat pocket. The officer keeps shooting you glares and Lev wraps his long arm around your waist, pulling you into him. You let out a tiny sigh of relief. Lev won’t let anything bad happen to you.

When the officer is done patting Suna down, his brow quirks up, "You have nothing on you this time?"

"What can I say, officer, I’m a changed man. Accepted God as my saviour and et cetera."

"Yeah, don’t give me that shit," the man rolls his eyes and wraps his big coat around himself tighter. It seems that the temperature is dropping, "You guys with him?"

"Uh, yeah. We’re friends," Lev answers, with a smile as sweet as can be. The officer has to look up to see Lev’s face and it almost makes you laugh.

“So you deal drugs too?" the officer asks, half-heartedly.

Your nerves spike up, but Lev grips your side tighter and gives you a telling glare saying it’s a joke, relax.

You giggle and shake your head. "No, we usually don’t", you answer with your own joke, making the officer smile wider.

"Good, stay out of trouble. Don’t think it’s necessary to pat you down, although, I’d like to," he gives you a wink and you can almost hear Lev’s jaw clench, big hand squeezing your waist tighter. Suna and you exchange quick glances and he subtly shakes his head. Don’t give him attitude.

"Maybe some other time," a hundred watt smile is gifted from you to the creepy officer; you just hope that he finally fucks off.

"Yeah, maybe. Uh, you guys have a good day. Don’t make me catch ya with drugs again, Rintarou," with the last glance at you, the dark-haired man turns away from your little group and leaves.

An uncomfortable silence hangs over you and you have to wait until the man is far enough to not hear you.

"So, you’re on first name basis with a creepy officer?” Your panic that probably fried more nerves than humanly possible comes out in the form of a joke but before Suna can answer, Lev is letting you go and grabbing Suna’s jacket, almost pulling the man up from the ground with brute strength,

"You motherfucker, you pull shit like that again and I’ll beat you to a fucking pulp."

"Lev-"

Lev briefly turns to you.

"This fuckhead just slipped a baggie of god knows what into your coat, don’t you dare give me that "everything’s okay" attitude, Y/N," Lev’s voice gets comically higher when he mimics your words and you purse your lips, shaking your head. The blonde knew you too damn well.

"Listen, Haiba, I don’t know why you have such a bad impression of me, but I fucking knew he wasn’t gonna pat her down, I wouldn’t put random people, especially pretty damn girls in unecessary danger, okay?"

Your face burns — It’s unbelievable how he manages to flirt when Lev is seconds from breaking his nose. You just silently observe with trembling hands. You never saw Lev like that. He was always this kind of dumb happy-go-lucky dude and just him raising his voice was unusual, not counting the threats he was spouting.

Though, thankfully, Lev doesn’t seem to catch the pretty remark, his handsome face scrunching up at Suna’s excuses. "Yeah, not putting people in unnecessary danger my ass. You do this again, you’re fucked," Lev repeats his words and pushes Suna away. The black-haired man stumbles but manages to keep his footing.

"Got it," Rintarou lifted up his arms as if he got caught doing something he shouldn’t. His tone is condescending and you feel like he doesn’t count on keeping his promise.

Lev reaches for you and you flinch. His big, forest-green eyes widen and he shakes his head.

"It’s okay, Y/N, it’s okay," he assures you.

"See, all your yelling scared her. We could’ve just talked it out like normal people."

Lev doesn’t acknowledge him.

"I’m sorry for screaming. Didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry," you nod, looking up at him, "Give me the bag and then we can go. I’ll make it up to you, yeah?"

You nod again and your fingers reach into the inner coat pocket, taking out a small baggie filled with white powder handing it to Lev, who then turns to Suna, just standing with his hands stuffed into his bomber jacket’s pockets. Lev examines the contents of the baggie and scowls and throws it at Suna, who catches it without any trouble, burying it in his jacket pocket carelessly.

"So you’re dealing Phencyclidine again?"

"Good eye," Rintarou nods, "I prefer the name ‘Angel Dust’, though. Sounds pretty, makes people wanna buy it," Suna explains unmindfully, as if he’s not currently discussing hard drugs.

"Figured you couldn’t last long on only selling weed. Though, even I thought you’d stop after the accident. Quite stupid of me." a frown finds it’s way unto Suna’s calm face and Lev grabs your hand, tugging you away. You’re even more confused than you were before and you give Suna one last look.

The man looks sorrowful, eyes far away and lost in thought. "T’was an accident, you know it" he mutters, as Lev finally pulls you away, not letting up until you reach a small coffee shop.

You let him drag you inside, the warmth instantly hitting you. Your head is spinning and legs are weak so Lev attentively sits you down, takes off your coat and scarf, orders two drinks — already knowing your order by heart — and sits down in front of you. You look around, head pounding, noticing that Lev has purposefully chosen a quiet corner booth for you two. He searches for something in his jeans pocket and slides a pill across the table. You manage to lift up an eyebrow, words a scramble in your head, unable to form into sentences. That was way too much stress for you to handle.

"Pain killers, will help you think straight and relieve the side effects of the stress you just went through." You trust him, sometimes, you trust him too much. You obediently swallow the tiny white pill, not needing any water to wash it off. You two drink your drinks in silence, only the quiet jazz music and snippets of other people’s conversations interrupting your quietude. Your head clears and your hands stop shaking so the pill seems to be working. Good.

"Ask away." Lev finally utters, eyes searching your face. You don’t know what he’s looking for and you probably don’t want to know.

"Why do you dislike Suna?" your tone is calm, mind a bit fuzzy from the pill you had just taken.

"He deals drugs and is a scumbag in general."

"What was the accident you mentioned, then?"

Lev shakes his head, pursing his plump lips, "Can’t tell you that, sorry."

"Why?" you feel like a detective and the questions in your head keep coming and coming.

"Made a promise?"

"To who?"

"Kuroo."

You freeze and raise your eyebrows up. It was like you had a bunch of different threads but no way to tie them together. You were really too exhausted to try and the questions you had in your head, the schemes on how to find out the whole plan were mangled all together and made your head pound.

"You really scared me out there. I’ve never ever saw you lash out like that." you confess, unable to look into his eyes, choosing to count colorful floor tiles instead. You never thought you’d be saying words like that to Lev, but you were always unable to lie to him.

"Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you it’s just that- He’s a bad man, Y/N. I lose my temper when I have to interact with him and the things that would’ve happened if the officer caught you with a bag of-"

"He didn’t" you cut Lev’s rant off, finally looking up.

"Y/N-"

"Listen," your voice is firm, "I’m not always this happy, kind person, yeah? It’s not gonna be all flowers and rainbows if real shit happens, but I can stand up for myself. We didn’t get caught and you got to scream at Suna. That’s it."

"But you could’ve-"

"Could’ve, yeah. I know that you want me to be mad, but I won’t. Spent too much damn time on that, let me be this ‘romanticised, rom-com fairytale, forgives-everything version’ of myself for these last few years." you spew completely random words and explanations as Lev’s eyes widen and one of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together and squeezing hard.

"Don’t even say that. You can be whatever you want to be, I won’t argue with you again, but never say anything about it being your last years."

You snort and Lev looks baffled.

"You see what stress does to me? Can’t even function without painkillers anymore and my muscles are still deteriorating at inhumane speed.. But sure, they're gonna find a cure real quick."

The man before you had sad confusion painted all over his perfect, magazine-worthy face.

"I don’t want to make you sad, Lev, I really don’t, but that’s the reality I’m dealing with and the reality that you’re gonna have to deal with."

"I know," he murmurs, face contorting "I just want to live in this rom-com fairytale reality for a bit longer."

You sigh and give him a tired smile.

"You’re my best friend Lev. You’re the only person I can be real with. You’re the only one who won’t turn away from me when I’m not this perfect, polished version of myself."

Lev gives you the same exhausted smile back, his throat thickens, "Yeah, I’m always there for you."

***

Suna comes back to his quiet tiny apartment and doesn’t even turn on the lights. Just kicks off his shoes, takes off his jacket, goes straight to his room and splays down on the creaky bed. Ideally, Suna would live alone, but rent in Tokyo, even in the worse parts of it, was expensive as fuck and his roomate, Akaashi Keiji, was a perfect person to share it with - quiet, cool and funny, not caring about all of the clients coming. Even now he was cooking something up in the kitchen, probably accompanied with a big cup of coffee, getting ready to work another long night.

There’s a knock on Suna’s door and he lets out a long sigh, "Yeah?"

Akaashi opens the door and looks Rintarou up and down, raising his eyebrows. "I, uh, made ramen. Left some for you on the stove,” Akaashi considers leaving the man alone knowing that he prefers to deal with problems alone, but Keiji’s gut is telling him to ask, "Everything okay with you?"

Suna sits up and just shakes his head. He doesn’t know what pushes him to confess everything. Maybe it’s a slight pang of guilt, or maybe it’s the pain he feels everytime he bottles his emotions up, "I- Ran into Lev when an officer was about to do a drug check on me. He was with this girl… Just slipped a bag of angel dust into her pocket. Knew they wouldn’t check her, yeah? But then Lev went fucking wild and shit and she looked really scared and stressed."

Akaashi fully opens the door and sits down on the dull, gray armchair. "Oh, Lev’s back in the city, then," Akaashi’s eyes widen a bit as he acknowledges the fact and stays silent for a bit, probably trying to make a mental note on it, "You usually don’t get bothered about what other people are feeling," he says, after a moment of silence.

Suna turns to Akaashi and shakes his head, long hair falling in front of his big, moss green eyes. "I don’t. But, man…" Suna groans, "She didn’t get mad at me and even tried to calm Lev down and shit. It was weird, I don’t know."

"Hm."

"Hm?"

Akaashi crosses and uncrosses his legs and then shakes his head, thoughts rattling in his head.

"I think you feel bad ‘cause she was nice and because of the events you caused, she got scared, no? It’s rare that people treat you right, unless they want to sleep with you or get a discount on drugs," He finally offers and Suna’s nonchalant expression changes into a shocked one.

"You could be a fucking psychiatrist, damn it."

Akaashi gives his roommate a small smile and stands up, stretching a bit, "Gonna go edit for a moment. Don’t forget to eat, Suna, yeah?"

Suna gives him a non-committal nod and lays back once again, mind wandering off. Lev’s last words really ingrained into his mind.

***

After Lev takes you back to the hospital, your next few days are filled with a bunch of new tests and a bunch of painkillers that make everything fuzzy; slipping in and out of sleep, only getting up to go to the toilet, eat, or spend a few hours watching tv or reading a book.

It’s easier this way. Doctors said that the stress you went through really damaged your state of health and no matter how much they asked for the source of the stress — you didn’t answer them, pretending that it was as much of a shock for you, as it was for them. Of course, it was temporary and you would be okay, or, as okay as you can be, in a few days. That meant skipping med practice, though.

You’re lying in bed, when your phone beeps. You grunt and pick it up. Maybe Issei had time to visit you, but if you remember correctly - he was working with no free days this week. Maybe Lev then? Akaashi?-

Your eyes almost pop out of your school when you see who texted you. You almost squeal with joy with the instagram notification. It’s a message from username “kuroo_t” and name “Kuroo T.”,. How official of him, you can’t help but let out an embarrassing girly giggle. Oh, he followed you too. Nice. Your finger lingers on the unopened message for a moment, until you finally press it.

Oh. Your face burns. He noticed you were gone, despite you guys only having one conversation. Now you just had to think of a good enough excuse, which was hard, considering the fact that you were currently fangirling. Hard.

He sees your message instantly and starts typing. You exit the chat, the need to stalk his profile way too strong.

Not a private account. His profile picture seems almost professionally taken, but his other pictures - not so much. Some travelling, photos with friends from med practice and if you schroll far down - stuff to do with high school volleyball. Oh, he’s hot. Not hotter than he is in real life, but still so damn attractive. You stop when you scroll to the picture of him with two other guys - one with spiky gray hair, carrying Kuroo in his arms like a baby and another one is just standing there, his gunmetal eyes staring at the camera disapprovingly, but his subtle smile says it all - he’s having fun too.

You couldn’t believe this coincidence. You and Kuroo had mutual friends, which meant that you were gonna do an interrogation on Akaashi, to learn everything interesting about him. A message pops up. Oh, your mind wandered off.

Maybe your mind-set of “you only live once” finally did you some favours, because now you had a date set with one of the hottest guys ever.

taglist: @heizenka @icelyn20 @strawbberyys​

sksk the last message from kuroo shouldn’t have the “and”, so let’s just pretend it’s not there 💀

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.”