#v: recruiting (geto)

[rivalsunraveled]

At first, Geto was just hoping to absorb a cursed spirit before sorcerers could exorcise it. They should really be thanking him for how much of their work he does for them, with how many curses he's taken care of before anyone from Jujutsu High even caught wind of it. Ah well.

As he investigates, however, it becomes clear that this isn't just some curse. For one, the cursed spirit is definitely a special grade. For another, even for a special grade, it's behaving oddly. Collecting things. Geto's investigation eventually leads him underground. Since he'd been sneaking around, Geto's opted for clothes that blend in more--loose-fiting pants and a hoodie--and he's glad of that, given the tunnels he's wound up in.

As his eyes adjust to the dark, he heads further into the tunnels, guided by the residuals of cursed energy, until he finds the source. A young person, covered in blankets.

Geto stops, keeping his distance, since he's not sure how kindly the poor kid will take to being approached in what passes for their home. He crouches, furrowing his brow. "Pardon the intrusion," he says. "This is where you live?"

// @rake-rake for yuta's curse user verse

[madaqueue]

forty-love

pairing: satoru gojo x suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: tennis player gojo, tennis player geto. smut. language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (baby, sweetheart), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), creampie, cum eating, p in v (doggy, reverse cowgirl). 18+, MDNI

word count: 5.1k

a/n: can you guys tell i watched challengers and miss tennis also yay my first stsg smut (based on their vibes from hidden inventory bc they're just so silly teehee) hope y'all enjoyyy (i also have no idea how this got so long oops)

Heat radiates off the court, the sun beaming down against your skin. The air is dry, tense, the only sound between the chirping cicadas is the bright green tennis ball being thrown against the ground.

Once.

Twice.

Gojo readies his racquet, tossing the ball into the air as his eyes meet the glaring sun. In one swipe the crack of his serve electrifies the stadium. The opposing team swings but doesn’t even come in contact with his hit, the ball rattling the fence behind them as applause breaks out.

“And with that, Gojo and Geto have won the men’s doubles!” the announcer’s voice booms through the arena.

The white-haired boy tosses his racquet aside as he charges his teammate, gripping him in a hug as they tumble across the court. Even from the stands their grins are palpable, the shared ecstasy of victory radiating off their bodies.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

“Y’know,” Gojo starts through a mouthful of orange slices, “that backhand you hit during the second set was crazy.”

“Satoru,” Geto chuckles, “you know it’s rude to talk with food in your mouth.” Reaching up a hand, he wipes away the juice that had begun trickling down the other boy’s chin with his thumb. “But thank you. That’s what practice gets you.”

“I practice!” Gojo retorts, continuing to chew the flesh of the fruit.

“When, between all the beer and girls?” Suguru takes a long sip of his Gatorade, his dark eyes never wavering from the bright cerulean of his friend’s.

“S’not my fault I know how to balance work and play,” he teases. “Speaking of which, you’re going to the Nike party with me tonight.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Satoru, we have our final match against each other tomorrow, and I’m not planning to throw the game because you just so happen to convince me to join you in your debauchery.”

“Yes,” Gojo smirks, “because I’m gonna be there, and I refuse to go without you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Geto acquiesces, unable to refuse Satoru’s dramatic pout as he bats his eyelashes. “Fine, but you have to at least let me win a set when we play tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Satoru beams, filling his mouth with another slice of orange.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

The party is loud, neon lights glaring against the darkness of the night. Music blares as miscellaneous players chat, chasing whatever brand deal or sponsorship they think they deserve.

You’re better than that, though - after all, you already have your scholarship lined up for school next year, a full-ride to play tennis until you graduate college. The peace of that knowledge allows you to stand at the outskirts of the party, idly sipping your drink, unpressured to force a conversation with those around you.

When Gojo and Geto walk in, you swear you feel the air thicken. Recruiters flock to them, opponents run from them, but everyone who’s anyone knows that they’re here. You roll your eyes at the theatrics, turning your attention to tug at the hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” a sudden voice appears beside you as the smell of cologne hits your senses, the scent vaguely reminiscent of the ocean. Glancing up, your eyes meet the brightest blue ones you’ve ever seen. “I’m Gojo,” he introduces, extending his hand out.

Crossing your arms, you smirk. “I know who you are.”

Behind him, another man suddenly appears, his dark hair pulled back into a bun. “I’m Geto,” he waves, not willing to enter the trap of your rejection by offering his hand.

Gojo’s lips form into a sly grin as he eyes you up. “Well, we know who you are, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he tilts his head - god, he was cocky. “You won the women’s singles today, we caught the end of your game. You played well.”

Taken aback at his genuine compliment, you almost let your guard down, relaxing your shoulders. “T-thanks,” you stammer, suddenly taking in the reality of being flattered by the Satoru Gojo.

“But,” he smirks, “you should’ve won an hour before we got there - your opponent had a weak spot on her forehand volley, you should’ve exploited it.”

And there’s the overconfidence.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “Thanks,” you reply sarcastically, turning to leave, “but I don’t remember asking you to be my coach.”

“You haven't, yet.” A devilish smile is plastered on Satoru’s face, illuminated by the glowing lights around you.

“What he means to say,” Suguru interrupts, shooting a momentary glare at his friend, “is that we’d love to play with you sometime. You’re really good, and we can tell you have a lot of potential.”

Your cheeks involuntarily blush at his kindness, his honesty.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” you mumble through the grin beginning to form on your face, still gathering your things to go. The noise of the music was beginning to blur your vision, your head pounding after a full day in the sun. Your muscles hurt, and you just want to collapse into the uncomfortable mattress in your hotel room.

“Leaving already?” Gojo teases as you begin to walk away from the pair.

Geto smacks his arm before looking at you apologetically. “If you’re staying at the same hotel the competition put all the players up in, there’s a way home that goes right along the ocean, if you want us to walk with you?”

“Didn’t you guys just get here, though? Don’t you want to stay and get courted by brand deals or something?” you ask somewhat rhetorically, incredulous that they would choose to leave with you.

“Psh, like we need it,” Gojo rolls his eyes.

With that, Suguru fully shoves him, his lanky limbs nearly catching over a nearby chair before he regains his balance, a pout evident on his face as he stares at the dark-haired man. “Again, what Satoru means is that he’s already got a Nike sponsorship, and I’m on a scholarship for next year; we only came tonight because we had to make an appearance.”

The gentleness in his voice inspires trust, a certain warmth to him that invites you in. Sighing, you accept their shared offer. “Well, I guess if we’re walking the same way back anyways, you might as well join me.”

A soft grin spreads across Suguru’s features as he leads you and a falsely-dejected Satoru from the venue.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

The soft sounds of waves crashing fills your ears from where you kneel along the beach, sand scratching at your bare thighs. The two men sit across from you, Satoru’s head resting on Suguru’s shoulder, his white hair illuminated under the moonlight. Somehow your walk home had detoured when they promised to show you their favorite spot, one they had found when they competed here a few years prior: the cove where you currently rest is private, away from the noise of the party or any other remnants of society. It’s peaceful.

You clear your throat, finally breaking the silence. “You two played well today too, y’know.”

Geto lights up at your words, a new excitement brewing beneath his skin. “You watched our game?” His hands continue methodically working over Gojo’s calves which sprawled across his lap, releasing the tension he had built up from their earlier match.

“Of course I did,” you hum, your fingers absentmindedly drawing small patterns into the sand. “I wouldn’t have missed your game for the world. You two are about to qualify for the Open, and I honestly think you have a good shot at winning it.”

“Oh, we’re gonna win it,” Gojo states matter-of-factly, his gaze lazily focused on the sky above you.

You can’t help but laugh at his confidence, the sound bubbling from your throat against the stillness of the night air. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” he begins, rising from where he rested against Geto, locking eyes with you, “we’re the best.”

“You aren’t the best,” you scoff in reaction. Hearing your own words, your face suddenly flushes in embarrassment - you did not just insult the two top-ranked tennis players in the country, did you?

Satoru pulls himself onto his hands and knees, leaning forward towards you as his eyes glimmer with the excitement of a challenge. Suguru’s hand rests on his back, ready to pull him back down if he oversteps (as he often does).

“Oh yeah?” he taunts, inching closer to you. “And why is that?”

“Because what you play isn’t tennis.”

Your words seem to stun the two boys, their actions suddenly halting as they turn to you. Allowing a moment of silence to settle, your gaze falls on the waves before you, the calmness soothing your thoughts.

“Tennis is electricity, an ocean. It’s a back and forth, a give and take. All I saw out there was you taking.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with taking what I want,” Gojo smirks, “especially when what I want is to win.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you follow, “but it’s not tennis.” Standing, you brush the sand from your skirt. “I hope to see you two actually play tennis tomorrow.”

Before you can leave, Geto’s voice breaks the silence.

“Come by our room tonight,” he purrs, gathering his confidence. “I’ll show you I know more than just how to take.”

A glimmer of mischief twinkles in your eyes as you turn to him, a sly smile growing across your face. “I’ll think about it.”

Turning, you walk across the beach back to the hotel.

In your absence, Gojo playfully smacks Geto’s arm. “Holy shit dude, that was smooth!” he laughs. “You think it’s actually gonna work for us?”

“‘Us’?” Geto smirks. “I was the one putting in all the work back there, you were just being an overconfident ass.”

“Psh, girls love my confidence,” he chuckles, a sound like raindrops falling on the calm waters of the sea. His blue eyes nearly glow under the moonlight, a brightness to them that’s never lost on Suguru. “Better head back and get ready for our date, though.”

“You keep saying ‘our,’” Geto teases, a newfound warmth beginning to cover his body in contrast to the cool night air as the two stand to leave.

“You know it’s always you and me, buddy,” Satoru smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders as they plod through the sand. “You and me.”

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

A knock alerts Gojo and Geto, who had been laying across the floor of their shared hotel room, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Satoru reaches the door first, swinging it open and welcoming you inside. Suguru, meanwhile, remains seated on the floor, his eyes covering your body as you saunter towards him: the curve of your thighs perfectly captured under your tennis skirt, the dip of your shoulders under your tank top, somehow a perfect balance of strength and poise.

Crossing your legs, you seat yourself across from Geto; Gojo is quick to join, holding out a beer to you. Shortly after he cracks open his own, he tosses another to Suguru as he spreads his legs out into the space between the three of you.

Tension builds in the air, an unspoken question forming in the back of your minds: why are you really here?

Even you weren’t certain - sure, Geto and Gojo were hot, and talented, obviously, a true force to be reckoned with in the tennis world. But more than that, they had a certain reputation, a gravitational pull to them. Anyone who got close to the pair was launched into fame, their very presence enough to garner wealth by proxy. And, yes, you had your scholarship, but was it a sin to want more? You had dreamt of going pro since you were old enough to hold a racquet, and now, with the two of them seated before you, it finally feels within your grasp.

Satoru clears his throat. “So, did your boyfriend happen to catch your game today?” he raises his eyebrows.

Gojo was many things, but subtle was not one of them.

“No,” you state, your gaze maneuvering between the two. They shift uncomfortably, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

They both visibly relax, grinning in unison.

“Good,” Suguru hums, almost inaudible above the hum of the air conditioning.

“What about you, did your girlfriends watch you play?” you smirk, bouncing the question back to them.

Geto is quick to shake his head, “Don’t have one,” he smiles easily.

Leaning forward, Gojo ruffles his friend’s hair, which now hangs loosely over his shoulders, released from the bun that held it earlier in the night. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he purrs, tilting his head towards Geto, “his lips haven’t touched a woman’s in a while.”

Suguru roughly shoves him off, a sigh leaving his lips. Turning his attention to you, he forces his frown into a weak smile. “I promise, I’ve kissed plenty of girls.” Tilting your head slightly in jest, his words finally register in his mind. “N-not like that, just, I-”

“I think she gets it,” Gojo jokes, pulling himself from where he landed on the ground to sit behind his friend.

Another momentary silence falls, the energy between you crackling in expectation. Satoru’s hands find their way back to Suguru’s body, idly massaging his shoulders as the pair fixes their gaze on you. Behind Gojo’s irises lies burning hot flames; behind Geto’s, well-controlled embers.

“So,” you eye the boys seated across from you, a subtle intimacy underlying their actions, the gentle motion of Satoru’s fingers into Suguru’s skin, “have you two ever kissed?”

“No.” Geto answers immediately.

“Well…” Gojo trails off with a smirk, “remember that one time?”

Suguru shoots him a glare that could kill, eyes cold despite the fire behind them. “That doesn’t count.”

Leaning forward, a grin tugs at the corners of your lips as the rough carpet digs into your skin. “Oh, do tell?”

Gojo mimics your motions, pulling himself onto his knees in front of you. “Around the time we met, Suguru here, the sweetheart he is, got himself a girlfriend but hadn’t had his first kiss yet. So I, being the generous friend that I am, helped teach him how to do it.”

Glancing at Geto, a redness spreads across his cheeks, one that could be designated as rage or embarrassment, either an appropriate reaction to the information that had been unexpectedly revealed. “That was years ago, Satoru,” he grumbles.

“So you’re saying you’re a pro now, Geto?” you purr, egging him on as you place your palms in front of you, the air between you two sparking. “Why don’t you show me what Gojo taught you then, hm?”

A hint of panic lies behind his gaze as he meets yours, taking in a steadying breath. Despite the hesitation in his mind, his body knows he wants this, wants you. Without a word, he lifts a hand to your face, cupping your jaw against his rough fingertips. Pulling you in, his lips meet yours.

He’s soft, calculated, as he kisses you. Parting his lips he gently swipes his tongue along your lower lip, bringing you closer and closer. He’s patient and reserved, just like how he plays.

Separating for a moment, a small smile appears on his face before you turn your attention to the man next to you.

“Alright, Gojo, let’s learn from the coach,” you hum.

Immediately he crawls over to you, a complete and utter lack of hesitation as his hands find you, one moving to the nape of your neck and the other to your hip.

As his lips crash into yours, he’s demanding, ravenous. His tongue roughly works its way into your mouth, exploring it like his first taste of water after hours on the court, like he’ll never get to kiss you again.

Pulling away, you smile, eyes covering the two men seated in front of you. “Okay, c’mere,” you grin as you seat yourself at the end of their pushed-together twin beds.

“W-which one of us?” Geto asks.

As the words hit the air, Gojo is already moving, plopping himself down at the edge of the bed as he looks at you expectantly. Blinking at his friend’s sudden motion, Suguru follows quickly, seating himself on your other side.

Your eyes meet Gojo’s, a hint of mischief behind the cerulean, before turning to Geto, hesitation and nervousness spread across his features. Might as well make this interesting.

Shifting your body into Suguru’s, his eyelashes flutter closed as your lips meet his again. Grabbing at his shirt, you tug him closer.

“Loosen up,” you murmur into his mouth as your hands travel over his body.

Behind you, Gojo’s envy gets the best of him as he reaches around your torso. Placing open-mouth kisses along your neck, his palms travel over your chest, groping at your tits through your bra. He melds into you from behind as a moan escapes your throat, the warmth of their bodies blanketing you. Geto begins moving his arms, grabbing at any inch of your skin he can find. Before you realize it, your clothes are discarded, the boys’ shirts lost to the depths of the dirtied hotel room. Skilled fingers trace the curves of your body, tingles of electricity left in their wake.

Gojo chuckles behind you as his hands find their way between your legs, fingertips tracing your clothed cunt, sending a shiver up your spine.

“A bit eager, are we?” he teases, pulling your soaked panties to the side.

Any insults you began to form die in your throat as his long fingers enter you, a choked, “fuck” the only thing you can get out in response. His fingertips prod at your gummy walls, finding the spot that has you rocking your hips forward, grinding yourself onto him. Your moans echo into Geto’s mouth as you chase your release.

Right as you feel the heat inside you threatening to overflow, Gojo’s motions still.

“W-why’d you stop?” you practically whine, finally breaking away from your kiss with Suguru to face him over your shoulder.

That annoying smirk is plastered on Satoru’s face as he leans forward, his hot breath tickling your skin as his lips brush against yours.

“That was me giving, now it’s my turn to take.”

Gojo’s arms reach around you to push Geto back onto the bed, your body still trapped between the two as you catch yourself on all fours. The dark-haired man looks up at you, stunned into silence as his hands rest tentatively on your hips. You gasp as Satoru suddenly pulls your panties down, the cool air hitting your heat.

Your gaze lands on Suguru’s, your eyes wide before you feel the pressure of Gojo’s cock pressing against your entrance from behind you. Your jaw slacks as your eyes roll back, the stretch of him overcoming your senses as he slides in inch by inch. Geto takes the opportunity to latch his lips to yours, imprecisely sucking against your soft skin.

Satoru’s moans fill the space as he bottoms out inside you. “Fuuuuuck, y’feel so good,” he groans, his pelvis resting against your ass.

As he pulls his hips away, his tip barely kissing your folds, his rough fingertips are suddenly felt against your clit. He imprecisely circles the sensitive bud as he thrusts back into you. In unison, you and Geto moan into each other through the kiss.

“Keep strokin’ me, jus’ like that, mmm,” Suguru hums from beneath you.

Fighting against the haze of your ecstasy as Gojo continues rolling his hips into you, you manage to focus your gaze downward, finding Satoru’s free hand wrapped around Suguru’s cock, precum smearing as he pumps his length.

“S’not - ah - me,” you manage to get out through Gojo’s increasingly rough thrusts.

Geto’s eyelids flit open, landing on Gojo’s over your shoulder. As soon as the two make eye contact, Satoru squeezes Suguru slightly harder as his thumb circles his tip, forcing his eyes back into his skull as his hips thrust desperately into his friend’s first.

Satoru chuckles from behind you as he begins to kiss up your spine, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His teeth nibble at your skin, the slight pain making your back arch further, letting his cock reach impossibly deeper inside you. From the new angle, he hits the same spot he proudly found moments prior.

“R-right there, Gojo, fuck,” you moan, your hands tightly gripping the sheets to stabilize yourself against the weight of his body on top of you.

From beneath you, Geto’s cock twitches in Gojo’s palm as he weakly breathes, “Call him Satoru.”

“Mhm, y’know me so well, Sugu,” Satoru purrs.

His thrusts are unrelenting, imprecise, needy. He’s working purely off instinct and lust as he pumps in and out of you.

“Satoru,” you whine, his motions pulling you closer and closer to your release.

“Y’gonna cum?” he breathes into your neck.

You would roll your eyes at the fact that you can practically hear his smirk through his words before a particularly deep thrust pulls a choked “a-ah mmm” from you.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Gojo chuckles. “Me too, baby, me too.”

His tip repeatedly prods against your sweet spot as his thumb picks up its pace against your clit.

“Hey, Suguru,” the man thrusting into you purrs, “tell me, does she look pretty when she creams all over my cock?”

Geto’s eyes flicker open, his gaze hazy as Satoru continues palming his shaft. Suddenly, your vision goes blind in ecstasy. Broken cries escape your throat as Gojo’s cock twitches inside you, painting your insides white, his hips never stilling as he fucks you through your high.

As you come down, Suguru’s words pull you back to reality. “Yeah,” he breathes from below you, “she looks real pretty.”

“Aww,” Gojo fake whines, “well that’s no fair.” He pulls out, his cum threatening to trickle down your thighs as he removes himself from Geto’s cock to grab the man’s hand. Pulling him up, he spins you around so Suguru is seated with you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. “Now I wanna see her cum while you fuck her, Suguru,” Gojo hums.

With that, the white-haired man kneels before you, one palm resting on your thigh as his fingers spread open your folds. He slowly rubs the mix of your shared essence over your puffy cunt, his eyes full of awe.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Turning his attention back to you and Geto, he smirks. “You’re gonna love fucking it, Sugu.”

Finally taking his initiative, Geto lifts you up slightly, just enough to allow his hardened cock to press against your needy hole. Slowly sinking down on his length, another shaky groan vibrates your throat as he stretches you, a searing pleasure against your walls as he fucks Gojo’s cum back into you.

“S-shit,” Suguru mutters, “feels s’good.”

His hands return to your hips, guiding you forward as you grind against him. He’s slow, methodical, in the way he fucks you, a certain precision to his motions.

“Just like that,” Gojo hums from beneath you, “y’look so perfect.”

Your mind is too clouded to decipher if he’s speaking to you or Geto, and truthfully, you don’t care. You continue rocking yourself forward, Suguru’s cock stretching you so sinfully. He may not have Satoru’s length, but fuck, is he thick. Soft moans escape your lips as you lean your head back into Geto, who takes over where Gojo left off, pressing wet kisses over the skin of your neck. Suddenly, Satoru latches his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue circling your clit as he moans into you.

“Y’taste s’good,” he groans, continuing to lap at your folds, the mixture of his seed and your slick coating his chin.

One of your hands instinctively reaches to grab his hair, pulling him into you as the other holds onto the back of Geto’s neck, tethering you to reality.

Feeling the tug at his scalp, Satoru smirks into your skin. “That feel good, sweetheart?”

The moment you open your mouth to respond he sucks at your clit with a new ferocity, cutting your reply short as it transforms into a garbled moan of “y-ahh mhm.” Gojo chuckles beneath you at your incoherent response, his breath hot. So fucking smug.

Suguru lets out a breathy chuckle from behind you as he gradually picks up his pace. “You’re just - hah - flattering yourself, ‘Toru.”

Gojo smiles devilishly against you as he replaces his mouth with his thumb, rubbing unfocused circles into your bud. Lowering himself, he licks a languid stripe up the base of Geto’s cock from where he enters you before gently placing the man’s heavy balls into his mouth, sucking lightly.

Suguru’s motions stutter as he moans, his teeth biting into your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself from the buzz of pleasure that suddenly overcomes him at the new sensation.

“Seems like the flattery was warranted,” Gojo hums before his lips return to your clit, sucking softly as tension builds within your chest.

You can’t even tell where you begin and they end, the searing kisses along your neck, the sounds of your shared moans filling the space. Suguru’s hips grow increasingly desperate yet restrained, small thrusts into your cunt as Satoru’s tongue continues flicking over your core. Geto’s body remains stiff beneath you as you roll your hips against him.

“Let y’self go, Suguru,” you slur, your mind too fuzzy to process the words, only sensing the tension he holds.

Geto’s palms hesitantly grow greedier as he grips at your skin, allowing himself to chase his own high. His motions get rougher, thrusts deeper; he’s always felt that carnal part inside of him, the one labeled desire, yet he would never give into it. But something in your words, the heat of your body, breaks him free of his self-imposed cage.

His grip on your hips tightens as he holds you in place, fucking himself up into you. He’s grunting in effort, beads of sweat forming across his forehead as his fingertips dig into your skin. His motions are sloppy and rough, but so fucking good. Finally, he’s feeling it.

“Mm, I - ah - m’close,” you whine, his messy thrusts hitting every spot inside you so perfectly. The two men hum into you in acknowledgement, continuing their fervent motions.

Wet sounds of pleasure echo through the room as you get closer, until finally, the cord inside you snaps. Broken moans of their names leave your throat as you come undone, your walls fluttering around Suguru’s cock enough to send him over the edge with you. Throwing his head back, he allows himself to feel it all, take everything you’re willing to give him - as wave after wave crashes over him, his body shaking, he finally feels free.

“So, so pretty,” Gojo hums as his gaze darts between you and Suguru, watching you two be overtaken in euphoria, together.

Satoru’s tongue never slows as he messily laps at your essence, still kneeling between your legs. Your body feels electric as you come down from the height of your ecstasy, every nerve vibrating in pleasure. The mix of Gojo and Geto’s cum feels warm inside you as it slowly drips from your cunt. With a sly grin, Satoru collects the sticky mixture on his tongue, his eyes fluttering closed as he swallows. Without a word he rises from his knees, leaning over you.

Is he about to kiss you?

No, he can’t be.

He presses his chest into you as his palms cup Suguru’s jaw, the dark-haired man’s gaze unfocused as he watches his friend’s motions. Gojo’s blue eyes are nearly black from his blown pupils, Geto’s kiss-bruised lips parted as he pants. Silently, Satoru presses his lips to Suguru’s. Their tongues swirl against each other’s, their saliva mixing as the warmth of their bodies covers you, the heat of the kiss threatening to drown you as you’re pulled under, into the current of the moment.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Back.

Forth.

Back.

Forth.

The crack of the tennis ball echoes through the stadium, each hit adding to the culminating tension hanging in the air. Each stroke was like thunder, each step like lightning as Satoru and Suguru rally.

Gojo hits a forehand down the line, forcing Geto into his weak spot - one only he would know after years of playing together, one Suguru would never dare to exploit of his teammate. Geto falters, missing the shot; a soft gasp erupts through the crowd.

“Forty-love,” the announcer booms, “game point for Gojo.”

Satoru takes his place to serve, absentmindedly bouncing the ball against the court as he readies himself.

Loosen up, Suguru.

Tossing it into the air, he hits a perfectly placed shot, the spin forcing Geto off his feet unexpectedly as he chases the path. It wasn’t what he calculated - yet, you could see it in Gojo’s eyes; you could feel it.

Geto hits an off-balance return, struggling to regain his composure as he returns to center court. For a moment, you lock eyes with him.

Let yourself go, Suguru.

Satoru takes the opportunity, running up to pounce on the arcing, slow shot Suguru returned. He leaps into the air, his racquet held high.

But Geto senses something is off.

The slight smirk at the corner of Gojo’s lips, the glimmer behind his eyes.

If Geto were a betting man, he would run himself back to the opposite corner of the court, preparing to take Satoru’s signature high-speed smash that would win him the game. Yet, for a moment, Suguru lets himself feel it - that’s not the shot his opponent is about to take.

Instead, he rushes the net. The moment his feet plant onto the ground, Gojo’s racquet makes contact with the ball, the slicing motion sending it twisting the exact opposite direction Geto would have predicted as it spins through the air. Landing it exactly where Suguru stands.

Geto volleys, not allowing the ball to make contact with the ground as he sends it back to Satoru’s side behind him. Gojo knows he can’t get to the ball fast enough, and he doesn’t even try; instead, he stands in place where he landed from his last play.

A wide grin forms on Satoru’s face, one of admiration, pride. “Didn’t expect you to get that one, Suguru,” he gleams.

Turning around, Geto’s back faces his opponent as he returns to his place, ready for the next serve. “Your emotions gave you away, Satoru,” he purrs through a smirk.

As Gojo prepares himself to serve again, a new electricity crackles between them. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you watch them play, sweat glistening off their backs as they pour themselves into the game: the back and forth, the give and the take.

This is tennis.

[cosmicrobotart]

Nikos Xenakis | 25 | He/him | Special Grade Sorcerer

About him below the cut ----v

History: Nikos transferred to Tokyo Jujutsu high school after a video of him went viral online for making a card ‘come to life’ when playing a card game with his friends. Although people thought the video was fake, he was recruited so he can learn how to use his abilities for good.

After graduating he wanted to prove to make his best friend Nanami proud, so he started to help those in need wherever possible.

Personality: Although he tries to hide it, he loves fighting with opponents. He tries to prove he has a better strategy when in a fight.

He believes some people just need a nudge in the right direction, but refuses to show mercy if a line has been crossed.

Trivia: -Has a crush on Utahime Iori.

-He makes his own cards, drawing each of them. The back of the cards is the symbol of Zahard from tower of god, his favorite webtoon.

-Is afraid of using his best card due to it taking over half a decade of putting cursed energy into it to finish. He also asked strong jujutsu sorcerers to put their energy in it when he was too exhausted. (Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Haibara)

Abilities: Domain Expansion - “Duel of Fates” calls forth his domain which makes him and his opponent duel in a card game. If he wins, he will instantly create a card that can exploit his opponents weakness.

Domain Amplification

Cards: Grade 4 - Wisp Swarm This creates a swarm of wisps that can try to overwhelm an enemy with numbers. They can also create a dense fog.

Grade 3 - Elementals This can spawn 5 different elementals: each contain a different type. Water - Can morph into any shape to fight an enemy. Fire - Produces light and heat. Wind - Produces an elemental that uses the power of the wind. Earth - An elemental that can help build/carve tunnels or form protective barriers. Lightning - Can move at the speed of light. It can transport up to 3 people.

Grade 2 - Frost Covered Guardian A guardian old and forgotten in a frozen landscape. This guardian will fight enemies with it’s great sword.

Grade 1 - Nebula Snake A snake that shimmers with the beauty of the cosmos. Some can get lost staring into the cosmic patterns.

Special Grade - Grim Herald of Desolation ??? This card took 6 years to make he does not know what this card is capable of. Use it as a last resort!

[nanamispto]

Nanami and Mahito still have beef in this AU because Nanami swooped up Junpei before Mahito could fully sink his claws into him

Ok but. I feel like Curse User Nanami AU could go two ways: one where he defects after being swayed by Geto and becomes Geto’s right hand, and one where he’s a wildcard who just kind of does his own thing—like more of a vigilante than a full antagonist

[rivalsunraveled]

"Should I?" Geto tilts his head, stroking his chin briefly in though. It's barely a warning, coming from the boy. Yuta doesn't seem to actually care one way or the other. This place reeks of sickness and death, but Geto isn't going to be so quick to abandon the boy to this state.

"My name is Suguru Geto. What's yours?"

There are dozens of questions he has that seem more pressing that introductions. It almost feels like a useless formality to even bother. The boy might not even remember his name, judging by how barely alive he seems to have been for quite some time. But it's the best starting point Geto can think of right now, anyway.

Voices are not something he hears more than a few times every few months, and certainly never directed towards him. Slumbering as he is in his own sickness, there's a long pause where he wonder if he's dreaming. Head slowly peeks through a hole in the blankets, at least a handful of soda cans drop to the ground with the movement, accumulated over his previously immobile form. Yuta holds the stranger's gaze, dark, hooded eyes seemingly scan him with only the slightest bit of curiosity before he eyes their surroundings, as if looking for something that was not there.

"...yeah." he croaks out, aware this is the first time he's spoken to someone in years. Rika never seemed to understand his words, so he simply had stopped using them, "You should go... now."

Or not. If he stayed and she found him, it didn't truly matter that much. Just another corpse for the sewers.