two's trouble geto x f!reader x clone!geto
"who the fuck is he?"
or maybe, what would be more accurate.
he looked like your boyfriend. had all the same little mannerisms. the crooked smile. the glint in his eyes. he even sounded the same, the soft purr of your name and warm hum when he wrapped his muscular arms around you.
except - your real boyfriend had just walked through the door, unfazed and unbothered by (his twin? doppelganger? duplicate?) whatever he was, currently cuddled up to you.
"me," geto casually shrugged, his back to you and rummaging through the fridge as if this really was your average Thursday and there weren't two of him - and the one that wasn't him was slipping a cold palm inside your shirt, tracing up your waist and teasing against the edge of your bra.
"excuse me?" you squeaked, cheeks burning as your boyfriend that wasn't really your boyfriend leaned down to softly kiss your neck.
"you're always complaining that you're home by yourself when I'm on missions," he shrugged, like it was an answer in-and-of itself. like he hadn't just fucking cloned himself to keep you company.
"and?"
"now you have a second me," he hummed, grabbing a snack from the top shelf and rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. he didn't even acknowledge the other him sucking wet spots across your collarbone. just pressed a short kiss to your forehead before walking over to the couch. "problem solved."
something hard pressed into your ass.
how long would it take him to realize he created a brand new one?
I have been released from containment (work) and will be wrecking havoc (liking all my mutual’s posts)
Whatever you do, don’t get stupidly high then listen to Fourth of July by Fall out boy.
You will think about Satosugu.
And you will be in tears.
-Pomegranate seeds mood board-
The Greenhouse
Suguru Geto
Hades!Geto
Detective!Geto x Serial killer!Reader
Yandere!Geto
Satoru Gojo
Clan leader!Gojo
Nerdjo
Fanboy!Gojo
Little blue dress
Ryomen Sukuna
Demon!Sukuna
Yuki Tsukumo
Outlaw!Yuki
Everyone wanted to be thicc but nobody wanted to be fat. Everyone wanted the dad bod but nobody wanted to be fat. Everyone wants fat mommy milkers but nobody wants mommy to be fat. Everyone wants to be a bear but not like, an actual fat bear. You get what i’m saying
How do you decide what kinds of things you want to write over?
Hi!!
So it kind of depends on what has inspired me lately, so my first fic on here was inspired by Greek mythology and I have been a huge mythology nerd for forever.
Music also plays a big part in my life so if I hear a song I really like a story can come from that.
So it is mostly just what my brain latches onto at that time!
Thank you for asking!
If I made a list of songs that I associated with my readers and their stories would ya’ll want that?
Hades! Geto who has kept to the underworld for years and never interfered with any other gods. He has never really cared for the holier then thou act that the gods on Olympus put on so he keeps to himself much to Satoru and Shoko’s displeasure.
“You really need to get out of here! It isn’t good for your health to be all cooped up down here.” Satoru remarks loudly and leans back in his chair. The God of Wine has always been very outspoken and flippant. He is most unhelpful despite being one of Suguru’s oldest friends.
“Get out.” He says firmly, not wanting to hear his friend complain about Suguru’s more introverted tendencies.
“Awww don’t be that way Suguru! I know that you are lonely without me or Shoko.” Satoru says but doesn’t stay. His retreating laughter echos in the empty palace.
Hades! Geto who decides to take his friend’s words into consideration. Looking at the human world would not hurt. They would all be in his domain at some point.
Walking through the forest it is so different from his cold domain. Spring (he thinks that is what Satoru had told him this season was called) has come to this forest. Small wildlife and flowers dot the once snow covered landscape. It is an abrupt change from his normal surroundings.
Soft humming draws him forward through the trees. It is a soft and warm sound, like sunlight filtering through the trees. The voice is more beautiful than anything he has heard before.
His feet come to a stop at the tree line. A field of wildflowers of every shape, color and variety rolls out in front of him. It is obvious that this is the work of a goddess, but which one is the question.
Suguru comes face to face with the person humming. You are sat against a large cherry blossom tree, a lap full of flowers as you fashion them in the shape of a crown. He might just trade his whole kingdom of the dead to wear something made by your hands.
With you in his sights and Eros’s arrow lodged in his back, Suguru is just a man.