loves4ge - Tumblr blog

[loves4ge]

what are your thoughts on the palestine/israel conflict?

it's not a conflict, it's a genocide. and i don't support genocide

[loves4ge]

sending them to buy an imaginary menstrual product !

incl. nanami kento, toji fushiguro, gojo satoru

pt i

[loves4ge]

sending them to buy an imaginary menstrual product !

incl. nanami kento, toji fushiguro, gojo satoru

pt i

[loves4ge]

JJK x reader texts but reader is bisexual and they text them a happy Pride Month? Thanks you! 🤗🤗

you text them happy pride month !

incl. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento, itadori yuji

fem and bi reader

[loves4ge]

JJK x reader texts but reader is bisexual and they text them a happy Pride Month? Thanks you! 🤗🤗

you text them happy pride month !

incl. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento, itadori yuji

fem and bi reader

[loves4ge]

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.

[loves4ge]

weakness | r.l.

pairing(s): remus lupin x plus size!fem!reader, background poly!marauders x reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, don’t look too closely at the grammar i wrote this in one sitting, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, remus cums in his pants, poly relationship mention, i really think that’s all; not proofread or edited

a/n: it’s a crime i’ve never written for one of my first fictional crushes of ever

word count: 1k

masterlist

remus is distracting, as always

There were several things you liked to pretend didn’t affect you.

The daily weather. Despite your adoration for storms and the feeling of raindrops on your cheeks, it cast a gloomy mood over you all day. You never could shake the way it cast you far into the depths of your mind.

Bad sleep. The too familiar feeling of grogginess and misery clawing at your twitching eyelids until it drove you mad was enough for anyone to lash out.

Remus Lupin. You liked to pretend he didn’t have any power over you, but if you were honest, he could do just about anything and you’d be falling to your knees. Thankfully, the feeling was mutual.

Your heart pounded as Remus’ large hands found purchase on the soft meat of your thighs, fingertips digging into the plush skin. It was his idea to stop by his dorm before heading to the library. Now you watched him with greedy eyes and a hammering heart. “You seem quite eager, love. Should I be concerned you’ll steal me away from my afternoon plans?”

His answering grin was enough to have you swooning, his cheek resting against your knee to nudge your legs apart. “Can’t say I’d mind.”

You complied, scooting forward until your pussy was exposed to him. Remus pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. His big, honey colored eyes made brief contact with yours before they dipped low.

In a matter of seconds his left hand was parting the lips of your cunt and he swiped a dangerous tongue over the folds. You whined, jolting at the sharp pleasure as he sucked and licked like a man starved. Your hands wove through his brown curls. He hummed at the feeling. You choked on a moan, a breathless laugh tumbling past your lips.

“You’re insatiable.”

He chuckled, the vibrations shooting through your nerves like lightning. You gasped, tugging on his hair, entirely unsure if you could handle it if he continued. His nose bumped your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily, an ache forming in between your hips.

Remus kept up his actions, his tongue occasionally dipping into the warm heat of your cunt. Your eyelids fluttered, a quiet moan following.

“Please, Rem, please-“

He pulled away, chin shiny and lips twisted into a mocking pout. “Can’t handle it, dove?” You whined, tugging him up toward you. He groaned softly as he stood, knees cracking and body sore. You leaned back on the bed, giving him room to climb on top of you. He pressed a messy kiss to your lips as he did so. You deepened it, hand reaching to grip the side of his pants and tugging him closer. He gave in, erection rubbing against your aching cunt. He groaned into your mouth.

“Wicked little thing.” You smiled shamelessly.

He pushed himself up and lifted your skirt hem, fingers tracing your soft skin before dipping into your wet cunt. Your legs tensed before you melted at his touch, body trembling as he thrusted his middle finger in and out of you, motions slow and steady. Remus’ hard on rubbed against your hip in time with his thrusts. You let your head fall back as your moaning changed in pitch.

Remus’ lips attached to the skin of your neck, sucking hard on your sensitive collarbone. His thumb swiped over your clit; the sound that left your mouth was half moan, half gasp, some weird garbled mess that under any other circumstance you would’ve been embarrassed about.

“Got my dove all fucked up with just my fingers. What would the others say if they could see you now?”

Your walls involuntarily clenched at the thought and your fingers latched onto the sheets beneath you. They were surely wondering where you two had wandered off to by now. A part of you wanted to see what would happen if they caught you now.

“Oh you like that, do you?”

A broken moan fell from your lips just as he sunk another finger into you. Your thighs trembled against his arm as the heat in your lower abdomen grew. The relationship had been open for ages now, an unconventional polycule you didn’t care to explain to anyone.

Remus chuckled at your response, choosing to trace circles over your clit instead of pressing further. Your body tensed as he added a third finger into your cunt, the tingling stretch enough to have your toes curling. You gripped Remus’ wrist with your left hand, bucking into his hand, his calloused palm scraping against your clit.

A lewd, not quite scream echoed through the room. Remus raised a brow at your still tight grip and quickened his pace, keeping steady attention on your clit. Your body tensed.

“I’ve got you, dove, I’ve got you.” He pressed his upper body against yours, a whisper in your ear to help ease you through your climax. Your thighs trembled as the knot between your thighs tightened. His clothed dick was still rubbing against your hip as he tilted his head up and caught your lips against his, his tongue swiping across your lips. You could hardly kiss back. Your mind was too far gone, caught up entirely in the feeling of his fingers knuckle deep within you and his thumb, oh Merlin his thumb-

You moaned against his lips as the knot tightened further and then released. His own movements grew more frantic, the scratchy fabric of his pants irritating your skin as he drew closer to his own end. Your climax washed over you in waves. With your eyes squeezed shut and your thighs clamped around his wrist, you rolled your hips to ride out your orgasm. It faded slowly, leaving you boneless and limp on his bed. You whined as he withdrew his fingers. A graphic squelch followed as you came to, eyes half lidded as you took in the wet spot on your hip and Remus own satisfied expression. You giggled.

“They others are gonna be so miffed when they see us.” He shook his head, dipping down to kiss your collarbone.

“We could hide away from ‘em, get some time alone.” You rake your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his scarred brown skin. Your clothes were already ruined, really. You could feel the wet spot beneath you. Remus knew the exact moment you decided to cave, body sinking deeper into the mattress.

“Maybe they’ll join us.”

+++

[loves4ge]

The click of claws on a roof, dust falls down. The alpha wolf is coming, he’s here and he’s near.

Dust swirls, shining gold under the dim candle light. Something else shines, it shines amber in the window, standing out starkly against the inky sky.

Amber eyes. He’s watching you.

grrrrrr..

im quaking

[loves4ge]

could you write bombshell!reader getting a tattoo of spencer’s name or something that reminds her of him and his reaction please?

“Why are you kissing me?” you mumble, your voice hoarse with sleep. 

They’re light kisses. “I’m going now,” Spencer says, matching your quiet tone. 

“No.” 

You wrap your arm behind his neck and feel his hair against your wrist. His nose and lips warm your jaw. 

“Yes.” He kisses your jaw. “I have to go, but I didn’t wanna leave without a kiss.” 

That’s really sweet, he’s so sweet, you’re so tired. “Please don’t go, Spencer.” 

“I have to go.” He readjusts your hugging to hum against your temple, distinctly content despite your pleading. “I’ll be back by six for dinner, promise.” 

“Promise,” you say.

You get to keep him for a few minutes, regardless. His neck must sing bent as he is over you but he doesn’t relent, doesn’t move until you encourage his face back to kiss just under his bottom lip. “Sorry, I’m making you late,” you whisper. 

“No, no, I accounted for this. You’re on my agenda.” 

“How much time did you allot?” you ask through a smile. 

“Seventeen minutes. That’s how long we usually hug in the morning.” 

“Gotta get that time down,” you say. 

“Or up.” He holds your face. You turn your head into his touch and keep him for just another half a minute. 

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes flutter closed again, “you can leave, I’m gonna go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea.” He kisses you, and he says goodbye. You’re sleeping again before he’s even left your room

When you wake properly, you still feel loved, like a sunburn but with less stinging. There’s something very special about your boy; something permanent about the way he loves. You can’t imagine he’ll ever stop loving you like this, he’s embedded you so deeply into his life and his routines (and you’d beg him to keep you if he ever changed his mind). That in itself is crazy. You can’t have imagined begging a guy to let you stay, but for Spencer, you would.  

When he comes home that night, half an hour before six, you have no regrets. 

You hadn’t noticed how he was dressed when he left, but he looks lovely in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. Remarkably casual for him, you used to think he only wore t-shirts to bed, but the older he gets the better propensity he has for comfort. What makes it for you is the cardigan. 

“You look nice,” you praise, more than satisfied when the first thing he does after he takes off his shoes is lean down to hug you where you’re sitting on his couch. 

“Thank you.” He pats your back and pulls away. “You’re beautiful,” he says with ease, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Good day?” 

Your lips pucker into a twist. 

“What?” he asks. 

Unfortunately, he sounds deeply worried. 

“No, it’s nothing, I just hurt my arm. Can you have a look?” 

Spencer takes your arm. “What did you do?” he asks, pulling the sleeve of your shirt carefully up to your elbow. The Saran wrap confuses him, until it doesn’t, and he grins at your skin, before frowning again. His flickering emotions worry you, until he says, “Is that mine?” 

You hold your arm in the light. “Of course it’s yours?” 

It’s just a few words from a note he wrote you, perhaps too soon into your relationship for sweetness, and yet one you kept anyways. He told you the story of the I Love You lighthouse, or rather, the Minot Ledge lighthouse, and how the man who lived there had to live on a different island to his family while tending the lighthouse, so he would flash the light once, then four times, and then three times, one flash for every letter of each corresponding word: I love you. The note was left on your dresser. You’d slept together the night before, but he had to leave early. Nowadays he wakes you up, but  back then he’d been too shy. 

I want to be able to do that for you but I can’t find a lighthouse in D.C. that will let me in to try. I’ll keep looking. 

“I’ll keep looking,” Spencer reads. His thumb heistates just under your small font.

“It’s from that note you left me.”

“I know, I remember.” He does his awful frowny face where his eyelids lower and you're sure he’ll never smile again, he looks that upset. “You know this is permanent?”

“They do tend to be,” you say with a lovelorn sigh. 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should kiss you, or hug you, or… I don’t know why you’d do this.”

“But it’s okay?” you ask. It could make for a very awkward conversation if he doesn't like it.

“It’s perfect.” He holds your gaze. “You’re perfect.”

He acts like your tattoo is a gaping wound as he moves in to hug you, careful of your new ink, but relentless in the tightness of his arms behind your back. You laugh, then squeal at his insistence, a giggly girly thing that nobody else should ever hear but him. He doesn’t make fun of you, just squeezes you to him, his face pressed so hard to yours you can feel his cheekbones. 

“Now I just have to say something romantic for you to get tattooed and we’ll be equal again.’

“So we aren’t equal?”

“Um, no way.” Your laugh is self-satisfied and breathless. You turn your lips to his cheek. “I love you. I’m gonna build you a lighthouse.”

“Can’t believe you kept that note.”

“I have a whole shoebox of them. I love that you write them.”

He stops holding himself up, half on the couch and half in your lap as he hugs you with every bit of strength in his arms.

[loves4ge]

like a moth to a flame

remus lupin x reader

sorry to my followers who thought i'd be uploading jjk content 😔😔

the sun was bright today, turning the pavement scorching and urging kids to try and cook eggs in the heat. you walk quickly down the road; your little sunhat providing meager protection but you're thankful for it regardless.

you glance at the watch fastened on your left wrist—it was the start of the afternoon shift for many service workers. including remus lupin. not that it mattered to you, of course.

of course.

you stop three paces from the quaint cafe, always bustling and a comforting sort of noisy. you fix your hair in the sideview mirror of a car parked near you, fluffing it up before smoothing it down again. pursing your lips, stuck between wanting to go in or touching up your lipstick. you decide on forgoing it.

ring!

the little bell attached to the door chimes when you step in, smiling. your gaze locks onto remus, dressed in the maroon uniform you see him in every weekend. he's only working here temporarily, while his friend who owns the cafe finds a permanent replacement for the weekend shift.

he turns, an easy grin on his face as he asks the next customer their order. his brown eyes twinkle. god really has favourites. you step into the queue. if people knew what you were doing, they'd call you a stalker. maybe you were one. you weren't sure. you'll have to search up the definition when you reach home.

after your coffee.

the line moves up quicker than you anticipated.

"hi, what can i get for you? our matcha iced tea is a new addition on the menu if you're interested." that low voice, raspy but warmed with honey. you could feel a dumb lovestruck smile sneak onto your face; you were a goner.

"oh, do you recommend it?" your voice comes out squeaky. red blooms in your cheeks out of embarrassment. hopefully he doesn't notice it.

"well, it does taste pretty good. but matcha isn't a match for everyone." the smile doesn't budge. you want to kiss him.

"er, i'll have one. in small."

"right away." he doesn't ask for your name; he asked for it all the previous times you came here. your grin stretches.

it doesn't take a long time for remus to hand you the matcha iced tea, your fingers brushing briefly. he felt warm in that small moment. you want to grab his wrist, not the cup.

"thank you," your murmur quietly, cooling your warm, and embarrassingly sweaty hands with the cup of iced tea. flavored in grass. why did you choose this anyway? oh, remus likes it.

he nods, his grin unwavering. "enjoy."

you move to the side, letting the next customer step up, and find a small table near the window. as you settle in, you watch him work, his movements efficient yet graceful.

the cafe is bustling, and you lose yourself in the comforting noise, the hum of conversations blending with the clinking of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine. the taste of matcha swirls in your mouth. you want to spit it out.

after a while, you notice remus wiping down a recently vacated table nearby. he glances your way and catches your eye.

"busy day?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

"always is on weekends," he replies, moving closer. "mind if i sit for a moment?"

your mind whirs, engine working on overdrive. "not at all."

he slides into the seat opposite you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. "needed a minute. how's the tea? don't tell me it tastes like dirt." there's a lilt of humor at the end of his sentence

you snort, shaking your head slightly. "it's good. different, but i like it." it did taste like dirt, a little bit. a whole lot, if you're being honest.

"glad to hear that," he says, leaning back. "so, what brings you here every weekend?"

you bite your lip; if he knew, would he label you a stalker? you didn't want to risk it. "i like the atmosphere. it's... cozy. and the coffee's great, of course."

he chuckles, a warm, inviting sound. "that's good to know. you always seem to catch my shifts, though."

you could feel red rush to your cheeks, your heart pumping blood faster. "just a coincidence, i guess." yeah right.

before the conversation can continue, the door chimes again, and a group of noisy teenagers bursts in, filling the room with chatter. remus glances over his shoulder and sighs.

"break's over, i suppose," he says, standing up. "enjoy your drink."

"thanks, remus," you reply, watching him walk away. as he returns to the counter, you sag back into your chair, and set the iced tea—which you had death grip on to calm your nerves—onto the table. there's a little napkin there that wasn't before. presumably, remus left it when he sat here.

curiosity makes you pick it up, it's plain other than the logo of the cafe in the middle of it. and of course, the phone number scribbled in black at the edge of it.

along with i won't be here next weekend, maybe we can still meet? xx

god, he was going to be the death of you.

[loves4ge]

like a moth to a flame

remus lupin x reader

sorry to my followers who thought i'd be uploading jjk content 😔😔

the sun was bright today, turning the pavement scorching and urging kids to try and cook eggs in the heat. you walk quickly down the road; your little sunhat providing meager protection but you're thankful for it regardless.

you glance at the watch fastened on your left wrist—it was the start of the afternoon shift for many service workers. including remus lupin. not that it mattered to you, of course.

of course.

you stop three paces from the quaint cafe, always bustling and a comforting sort of noisy. you fix your hair in the sideview mirror of a car parked near you, fluffing it up before smoothing it down again. pursing your lips, stuck between wanting to go in or touching up your lipstick. you decide on forgoing it.

ring!

the little bell attached to the door chimes when you step in, smiling. your gaze locks onto remus, dressed in the maroon uniform you see him in every weekend. he's only working here temporarily, while his friend who owns the cafe finds a permanent replacement for the weekend shift.

he turns, an easy grin on his face as he asks the next customer their order. his brown eyes twinkle. god really has favourites. you step into the queue. if people knew what you were doing, they'd call you a stalker. maybe you were one. you weren't sure. you'll have to search up the definition when you reach home.

after your coffee.

the line moves up quicker than you anticipated.

"hi, what can i get for you? our matcha iced tea is a new addition on the menu if you're interested." that low voice, raspy but warmed with honey. you could feel a dumb lovestruck smile sneak onto your face; you were a goner.

"oh, do you recommend it?" your voice comes out squeaky. red blooms in your cheeks out of embarrassment. hopefully he doesn't notice it.

"well, it does taste pretty good. but matcha isn't a match for everyone." the smile doesn't budge. you want to kiss him.

"er, i'll have one. in small."

"right away." he doesn't ask for your name; he asked for it all the previous times you came here. your grin stretches.

it doesn't take a long time for remus to hand you the matcha iced tea, your fingers brushing briefly. he felt warm in that small moment. you want to grab his wrist, not the cup.

"thank you," your murmur quietly, cooling your warm, and embarrassingly sweaty hands with the cup of iced tea. flavored in grass. why did you choose this anyway? oh, remus likes it.

he nods, his grin unwavering. "enjoy."

you move to the side, letting the next customer step up, and find a small table near the window. as you settle in, you watch him work, his movements efficient yet graceful.

the cafe is bustling, and you lose yourself in the comforting noise, the hum of conversations blending with the clinking of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine. the taste of matcha swirls in your mouth. you want to spit it out.

after a while, you notice remus wiping down a recently vacated table nearby. he glances your way and catches your eye.

"busy day?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

"always is on weekends," he replies, moving closer. "mind if i sit for a moment?"

your mind whirs, engine working on overdrive. "not at all."

he slides into the seat opposite you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. "needed a minute. how's the tea? don't tell me it tastes like dirt." there's a lilt of humor at the end of his sentence

you snort, shaking your head slightly. "it's good. different, but i like it." it did taste like dirt, a little bit. a whole lot, if you're being honest.

"glad to hear that," he says, leaning back. "so, what brings you here every weekend?"

you bite your lip; if he knew, would he label you a stalker? you didn't want to risk it. "i like the atmosphere. it's... cozy. and the coffee's great, of course."

he chuckles, a warm, inviting sound. "that's good to know. you always seem to catch my shifts, though."

you could feel red rush to your cheeks, your heart pumping blood faster. "just a coincidence, i guess." yeah right.

before the conversation can continue, the door chimes again, and a group of noisy teenagers bursts in, filling the room with chatter. remus glances over his shoulder and sighs.

"break's over, i suppose," he says, standing up. "enjoy your drink."

"thanks, remus," you reply, watching him walk away. as he returns to the counter, you sag back into your chair, and set the iced tea—which you had death grip on to calm your nerves—onto the table. there's a little napkin there that wasn't before. presumably, remus left it when he sat here.

curiosity makes you pick it up, it's plain other than the logo of the cafe in the middle of it. and of course, the phone number scribbled in black at the edge of it.

along with i won't be here next weekend, maybe we can still meet? xx

god, he was going to be the death of you.

[loves4ge]

doing an ugly makeup look to see how the jjk men react? pretty please and thank u pookie pie 🙂‍↕️

REACTIONS TO YOUR UGLY MAKEUP . . ?

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.

n. ngl nonnie i had to spend a full ten minutes in front of my laptop thinking how to do this interesting request (i didn't immediately have an idea to write it down but got the hang of it later on). no problem pookie pie, i hope u like it :0

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you decided to have a little fun and see how megumi would react to an intentionally ugly makeup look. after spending some time in front of the mirror, you admired your creation—a mix of clashing colors, exaggerated eyeliner, and over-the-top blush. satisfied, you headed to your boyfriend’s room, where megumi was waiting.

as you walked in, megumi looked up from his book. his eyes widened slightly, and he stared at you for a moment, clearly puzzled. he opened his mouth, then closed it, trying to find the right words.

"uh, you look… different today," he finally said, after simulating a hundred different words and scenarios to say in his head, tone cautious but polite; as if he’s walking on eggshells. "did you try something new with your makeup?"

you struggled to keep a straight face. "yeah, i wanted to experiment a little. what do you think?"

megumi tilted his head, examining your face with a mix of confusion and concern. "it’s… interesting. very bold," he replied carefully. "is this for a special occasion or just for fun?"

you could see he was trying hard not to offend you, which only made it harder to hold back your laughter. "just for fun," you said, unable to hide your amusement any longer.

the guy nodded slowly, still looking unsure. "well, if you like it, that’s what matters. but, um, maybe next time you could try something a bit more.. subtle?"

you burst out laughing, unable to keep up the act any longer. "baby, it’s a prank! i wanted to see how you’d react."

relief washed over his face, and you felt his tight shoulders slacking off. “god, i didn’t know what to say without hurting your feelings. don’t do that next time, babe. i was really scared to say anything.”

GOJO SATORU. his eyes opened theatrically as soon as he spotted you, and an immense grin became apparent on his face. "wow," he exclaimed, standing up and dramatically clapping as well as placing a hand over his heart. "you look absolutely stunning! ravishing! this is the new trend, right? you’re always ahead of the fashion curve, my darling!"

you tried to keep a straight face, but his over-the-top reaction made it difficult. "aww, you really think so?" you asked, playing along with a mock-serious tone.

your boyfriend, your number #1 supporter nodded enthusiastically, stepping closer to get a better look. "absolutely! i mean, just look at those bold choices. the color contrast is so… avant-garde. you’re a true trendsetter." (not the big words, guys..)

"you’re so ridiculous, satoru," you laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head.

he winked at you, his grin never faltering. "ridiculously lucky to have such a fashion-forward girlfriend, you mean. seriously, you could start a whole new makeup revolution with this look."

you playfully smacked his arm arm. "okay, okay, you can stop now. just tell me it’s ugly and i pranked ya.”

"oh, i knew that. but you know me, i can’t resist playing along. your creativity never fails to amaze me." you rolled your eyes, still smiling. "thanks for being such a supportive boyfriend."

gojo pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms warm and comforting around you. "my job, darlin. but next time, let’s try a look that doesn’t make me feel like i’m dating a clown, yeah?"

GETO SUGURU. "well, well, well, what do we have here?" you made your way to where geto was lounging when he teased, raising an eyebrow. "are we auditioning for a circus today?"

"very funny, suguru. do you like my new look?"

he grinned, stepping closer to inspect your makeup with exaggerated scrutiny. "hmm, let me see… it’s definitely… something. and colorful. very circus-ish."

you gave him a friendly slap on his ribs while rolling your eyes. "huuh, i know it’s terrible."

geto chuckled, pulling you into a hug. "hey, i love you no matter what you look like. even if you do resemble a rainbow clown."

"but seriously, let’s go wash that off before anyone else sees you. i can’t have my girlfriend looking like a picasso painting gone wrong."

ITADORI YUUJI. "ah, interesting look, babe. what inspired this? are you trying out for a new role or something?"

"nope, just felt like experimenting with makeup today. what do you think?" you chuckled at his inquisitive nature and the fact he’s totally not aware being thrown to the oblivion.

itadori blew an air inside his mouth, examining your face with genuine interest. "well, it’s definitely… unique. did you follow a tutorial or come up with this on your own?"

you shook your head, unable to hold back a smile. adorable, that’s what you wanted to say. "this was all me. just wanted to see what i could come up with."

your boyfriend reflected the smile, leaning closer to get a better look. "well, you’ve definitely succeeded in making a statement. it’s bold, to say the least."

“thanks for being so nice about it. i promise i’ll go back to my normal makeup routine tomorrow." a warmth feeling spread across your chest, relieved he was taking it well.

he chuckled, reaching out to gently touch your cheek. "hey, you do you. i love you no matter what you look like." your heart warmed at his words, and you leaned into his touch. "i love you too, yuu. you always know what to say.

"yeah," he replied with a smile, pulling you into a warm hug. "now, how about we go wash that off and spend the rest of the day doing something fun together?"

@uzurakis

[loves4ge]

starting off the morning wanting to sob about haikyuu !!

[loves4ge]

requesting guidelines

fandoms:

• jujutsu kaisen

• harry potter + marauders era

• haikyuu

• grishaverse

i could be willing to write for other fandoms if you ask!

what i write:

• smaus

• drabbles/oneshots

• multi fics (headcanons)

no genre limitation i.e. you can request angst, fluff, hurt/comfort etc

what i won't write:

• smut or nsfw

• character x character ships (unless it's poly x reader)

• male reader

any request that makes me uncomfortable or uninspired will be disregarded

final note: if you're unsure whether your request fits the guidelines, don't hesitate to ask! i'm quite flexible and i won't bite!

request here!

[loves4ge]

You will not believe the things people say on tiktok

support memes or command me to make shitposts on my patreon, link in pinned.

[loves4ge]

{SMAU}: sending nanami pictures of you in lingerie!

{warnings}: NFSW. MDNI! profanity, usage of “wife”, pet names (‘my love’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘baby’), name-calling (slut, cockwhore).

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

[loves4ge]

texting them when you're drunk !

incl. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, inumaki toge

the drunk texting style is inspired by my friend 🙏