#- abt how everyone else disappeared | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melrodrigo · 7 months ago

Text

friends? p.2

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?

Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean

Word Count: 2k+

A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!

part 1

Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.

She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?

Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.

So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.

You.

You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.

At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.

But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.

You were, surprisingly smart.

Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?

Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.

It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.

"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.

It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.

"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.

She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.

"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.

You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.

She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.

You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.

"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.

You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.

"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.

She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"

"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.

"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.

"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.

His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"

Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.

She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.

"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.

"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.

"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.

He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."

The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.

Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.

It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.

You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.

"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.

"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.

You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.

You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.

A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.

Cairo Sweet.

Fuck.

Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.

You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.

Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.

"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.

"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.

She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.

You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.

Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.

"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.

She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.

"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.

Especially for her, you think.

"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.

"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.

"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.

Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.

"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.

You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.

You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.

Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.

"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.

"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.

You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.

"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.

She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.

The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.

"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.

She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.

"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?

She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.

"I don't like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.

Debating on what you can't be certain.

"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.

You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.

Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.

"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.

It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.

Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.

You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.

You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.

You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.

"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.

She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.

Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.

"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.

You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.

The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.

Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.

"Oh god."

#cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #millers girl #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #melrodrigo #mine #enemies to lovers

517 notes · View notes

wttcsms · 1 year ago

Text

as it was ; suguru geto.

pairing suguru geto x f!reader word count 4.2k synopsis suguru comes back, only to find that you've been waiting and wanting this whole entire time. content contains modern no curses!au, gojo's sister!reader, brother's best friend, creampie, pet names (good girl, baby), most of the fic is geto's introspection, possessive sex, mutual pining/longing author’s notes im not even horny for geto like that, but i wanted to write angsty smut abt spreading ur legs for a guy that left u & who else is better for this than geto <3

First words are always a bit tricky to get right, especially whenever he has to take into account that he essentially ghosted you a couple of years ago, after taking your virginity no less, and now he’s back in the godforsaken city he swore he was never coming back to, and he’s just at a loss about what to say and more importantly, how to say it.

He supposes an apology, for starters, would be a good first move. And maybe it would be, could be, should be, if only he wasn’t him and you weren’t you, and the two of you were not something so confusing and intricate that it’s hard to put into words and harder still to describe with emotions. The two of you are something raw and painful, both of you taking turns playing both sadist and masochist.

Even to himself, the extent of your relationship sounds twisted, but there was always an underlying purity to it, something that justified its existence. To this day, Suguru Geto is certain that you’re the only person who ever loved him for him, with a love so pure and just that he tries to hide it from everyone else before they can get their filthy hands on it and taint it, twist it into something it’s not.

Sorry I left won’t cut it, and Geto doesn’t even bother trying to come up with any other variations of apology because it’s not necessarily your forgiveness that he’s come back for. The opportunity to say “I’m sorry” and have it actually mean something has long since passed. All that’s left to say is the truth for why he left, which for some odd reason, seems even harder to do than his original disappearing act.

I missed you — that’s a slight improvement. It’s the truth, if not an understatement of it. He doesn’t regret leaving Tokyo, he just regrets leaving you. Which he could say, if you would actually open the door to face him.

He figures it’s what he deserves. He deserves worse, if he’s going to be entirely honest. He deserves a slap to the face, or a kick to his balls, or for you to tell him that you hate him, that you never want to see him ever again.

He knocks on your apartment door, harder this time, as if it’s something urgent. And maybe it is. He’s felt more like himself than he ever has after moving, but the solitude of the countryside got boring soon after, leaving him only with the ghosts from his past to keep him company. He thinks if he doesn’t see you, in the flesh, he might actually go insane.

He knocks again, only to be met with more silence and a door that’s starting to become more of a familiar sight than he would like. Fuck, what is he even doing? Showing up here was a bad idea to begin with, and it’s only seemingly getting worse by every agonizing second that ticks by. Even if you do open the door, there’s always the chance that you won’t let him get a single word in — that’d be the smart choice, anyway.

And you’re a bright girl, don’t get him wrong. Something about the Gojo bloodline makes your family incapable of producing anything less than prodigal sons and daughters. If you’re not proof of this fact, there’s your older brother.

Yet another reason why showing up here is such a shitty plan. Satoru will catch wind of his visit, and when he does, he’ll show no restraint in showing Suguru what all of his private boxing lessons are good for. A broken nose and missing tooth would be a fair exchange to see you for at least a second, though. A tradeoff that he doesn’t need to debate on.

You have to leave your apartment eventually. Suguru dances with the idea of just making camp outside your door and waiting for your stubbornness to fizzle out. It’ll be embarrassing, and your neighbors will surely have something to say about it, but it would be well worth it.

He hears the ding! of the elevator opening and human reflex causes his head to turn at the sound of the noise.

Oh.

The world becomes contradictory at this very moment. The air suddenly stills, but the atmosphere itself seems to come alive at the same time. Stagnant air, bursting with electricity and something awe-inspiring. Everything seems to slow down, but suddenly he’s acutely aware of just how alarmingly fast his heart is beating. It’s been a while since he’s last seen you, not even bothering to check up on your social media because he knows one DM from you would have him crossing the ocean to be back by your side.

The reason why you weren’t answering your door was simply because you weren’t even home. Relief floods his body, makes him less tense, only for him to stiffen up once more whenever his eyes trail over to the warm body awfully close to you.

Or maybe it’s the other way around, since you’re the one clinging onto him.

You and Kento Nanami both look like you two have seen a ghost, and all things considered, you wouldn’t be wrong.

“What are you doing here?” You’re the first to speak, with Nanami’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and it’s this closeness that’s the only thing Suguru finds himself able to focus on. It’s been years. He shouldn’t feel this way. You’re free to do whatever you want with whoever you want. It’s your life. He’s the one that chose to walk out of it, anyway.

“I just wanted to talk,” he answers. Which isn’t a lie. He wanted to talk. He wanted to fight and make up and fuck your brains out and beg for forgiveness and cook you breakfast in the morning and warm your bed, amongst other things, too. But, he figures the condensed version of his list will do, especially considering that three’s a crowd, and most of his itinerary was for your ears only. “Did I come at a bad time?”

You bite your bottom lip, slowly removing yourself from Nanami’s grip. Nanami looks at you first, concern evident in his warm eyes, eyes that you wish were just a bit darker and colder, so that they would be the ones you’re so accustomed to drowning in.

You like Nanami well enough. He’s kind and looks out for you, and sometimes you even consider making a move on him first since he’s too much of a gentleman to cross any boundaries. Then again, you don’t think Nanami sees you as anything more than a little sister, and the last time you fucked one of your brother’s best friends…

It’s why you just give Nanami a smile, one that tells him that you’ve got this under control. His facial expression doesn’t give any indication of what he’s thinking, but the glare he sends Suguru’s way says enough.

Suguru can appreciate the fierce protectiveness Nanami has towards you, but it doesn’t mean he likes it. Especially when it’s Suguru that’s considered to be the threat.

You move to unlock your door once Nanami makes his reluctant exit, and when you enter your apartment, you conveniently don’t shut the door. Suguru trails behind you.

You turn on the lights, your living room and kitchen blending together in an open-floor plan, bathed in the stark, white lights hanging from your high ceilings. Your apartment, at least what Suguru can see of it, is tastefully decorated. Courtesy of your mother, he’s sure. He would ask about her, ask how she’s doing, but he figures now’s just not the right timing.

It doesn’t seem to be the right timing for anything he wants to say. He wants to mention that he’s thought about you, thought about reaching out — sometimes to explain himself, and other times just to discuss the mundane aspects of life — but he thinks that would be even worse than apologizing. It would be cruel of him to dangle this information in your face, haunt you with the knowledge that all this time, he’s truly been avoiding you. Knowing you, you would have questioned him on why he didn’t bother reaching out, and he would have been stuck admitting that it’s simply because he was too scared that you wouldn’t answer.

“Want a drink?” You ask him, back facing him as you peer into your fridge. He catches a glimpse of shiny glass bottles, water bottled in Europe and with the optimal pH balance, he’s certain of it. His throat feels a bit dry, but he tells you no.

“I drank enough water on the drive up here,” he tells you, which again, isn’t a lie. Suguru feels a bit pleased with himself, even if it is a bit narcissistic of himself for expecting a pat on the back for doing something so simple. He supposes it’s just because he’s gotten so used to never being honest with himself — or others, for that matter — so his current streak for telling the truth seems like something to celebrate.

“I didn't drink enough.” You say, and he can’t tell if it’s alcohol you’re talking about or water. You’re a lightweight; yet another trait that seems to be passed down the Gojo family. That explains Nanami escorting you home, then.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?” Suguru helps himself to taking a seat on the white couch in your living room. Because there’s no walls separating the two different spaces, he can still look at you from this position as you rest your elbows on your kitchen’s island, as if needing the support.

“If you wanted me to know, you’d let me know.” It’s the way you say it that reveals that this comment isn’t made just in reply to his current question, but for everything else Suguru was going to follow it with. Don’t you want to know where I went? Don’t you want to know why I left?

It’s amazing what humans are capable of. Nearly six years since the two of you have lost contact — since Suguru broke all contact — and yet, you can still read him just as well as he can read you. You see him for what he is, not whatever mask he wants to disguise himself with, and it’s scary, he thinks. Scary to be seen by someone. And nice. It’s nice to have someone know you’re a monster and still not run away.

He’s not quite sure what that says about you.

“It’s a bit of a funny story.” He says, trying to steer this conversation to a more lighthearted tone even though the two of you are nowhere close to feeling light and the jury’s still out on whether or not Suguru Geto has a heart. “You don’t need the reminder, but don’t ever tell Mei Mei a secret you want to keep.”

The mention of your shared friend — if Mei Mei can even be considered one — makes the corners of your pretty mouth tilt upward. Mei Mei was born with a silver spoon, but the running joke is that it wasn’t in her mouth because she bartered with the doctor and blackmailed him into giving her a gold one. If you have the funds, Mei Mei has the information you’re looking for.

She’s the only number Suguru saved in his phone contacts, and it’s only because he knew that if he needed anyone else’s number, Mei Mei would readily give it after her Venmo request goes through.

“Of course she would tell you my address.” You say, but you don’t sound upset at all. Just amused, like this whole situation is something endearing, and you don’t harbor any ill feelings towards either of them, even though both Suguru and Mei Mei technically violated your trust. Suguru more so than Mei Mei, but, well, semantics.

“Aren’t you mad?” The “at me” is unspoken.

“Mei Mei is a free spirit.” It’s a joke, and Suguru makes a sound from his throat that resembles a laugh. Mei Mei may do whatever she wants, but nothing about her comes free.

He knows you know what he was actually asking. He’s been trying to gauge your reaction to everything he says, trying to see if you hate his guts or not.

“I missed you.” You tell him suddenly, and while he’s imagined those words coming out of your mouth, it still shakes him up a bit. It’s hard constantly posturing as if he’s cool and collected, nothing ever bothering him, his body and expression never betraying him. But it’s his heart that gives him away, and it’s heart that you hold, and no matter what face he puts on, he knows that you’ll know what the words he won’t say are.

“Don’t apologize.” You continue, closing the distance between you two and opting to take a seat next to him. There’s about six inches of space separating you two. The distance shapeshifts in his mind, sometimes becoming mere millimeters and sometimes feeling more like there’s an ocean between you both.

The sorry was on the tip of his tongue and it traveled all the way there from his heart. It would be a waste of a journey for him to not say it, but he’s certain the apology would do more harm than good, even if it is genuine.

Suguru stands out against the stark white of your apartment. Your mom likes the aesthetic of it, and since it’s your parents’ money, you merely shrugged and let her do whatever she wanted. In his black pants and black sweatshirt, he looks almost out of place in your home.

The thought that he doesn’t belong makes your heart hurt more than the burn of the alcohol from tonight going down your throat.

You don’t waste time wondering where Suguru went because for all intents and purposes, you never even knew where he came from to begin with. You knew him since you were children; your favorite out of all your brother’s friends because it was always Suguru who let you tag along and trail behind them. No one really knows much about Suguru’s life, his past, present, and future all a big blur to anyone but himself. From the way he slowly turns to face you, dark eyes meeting yours, you start to think of the possibility that maybe not even Suguru is an open book with himself.

Suguru looks like a shadow, standing out from the brightness of everything that is surrounding him in your living room. You want to ask him the questions that plague your mind ever since he’s been gone, but you don’t, because you’re scared he is a shadow. One wrong move, and he just disappears from your grasp once again.

There are the hard-hitting questions, of course. The ones that search for why he left and why he told no one and why he didn’t bother taking you. Then there are the gentler ones that would still require him to rip himself open and bare himself to you, things like how’s your new place and meet anyone interesting? You feel his gaze travel from your eyes to the slope of your nose and the apples of your cheek, downward to your lips. The intensity of his stare makes you nervously lick your lips, a tiny, quick action, but his eyes greedily take in the sight of the tip of your pink tongue casually making an appearance, only to retreat behind your pretty pink, glossed lips.

“Are you mad that I came back?” Suguru finds himself taking the role of interviewer, since it’s evident to the two of you that you know better than to bother asking him any questions. He feels like you’re treating him a bit like a stray cat, all cautious and scared of provoking him or forcing him to run away. He wants to tell you that this is not the case and that he actually plans on staying this time around, but he hasn’t entirely convinced himself yet, so he’s not going to break your heart with any more empty promises.

“No. Like I said, I missed you.” He wants to be able to blame your honesty on account of you being drunk, but he knows that you’ve just always been honest to a fault.

“You shouldn’t.” He tells you this, and you scoff. Probably because Suguru is the last person who should be giving any sort of life advice.

“Guess what I’m thinking.” You say, and Suguru feels something come alive from within, like he’s been frozen for the past six years, and the more he gets to bask in the warmth of your presence, the more he starts to defrost. There’s not a single hint of anger or malice in your tone, just the familiar, lighthearted, girlish tone of yours.

“That you think I’m a creep and want me to get the hell out.”

You frown, rolling your eyes, tucking your feet beneath you to get more comfortable on the couch.

“I’m thinking about that last time you told me I shouldn’t be doing something.” There’s a gleam in your bright eyes that clearly spells out desire, and Suguru is very, very close to defrosting. In fact, there’s a heat that’s beginning to settle deep in him, and maybe he should know better than to indulge in it, but it’s been years, and you are sitting here in front of him, pretty and fresh, and his hindbrain takes the driver’s seat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he does know, and he knows that you know that he knows, just as you seemingly know everything about him. Maybe not about his childhood — or lack, thereof — or what he’s been up to, but you know the important stuff. The things that make him tick and all the words he fails to say. Three words. Three words that he doesn’t think he’ll ever muster enough courage to say to you, but from the look in your eyes, you already know.

“I’ll jog your memory.”

And suddenly, your lips are pressed against his. You’re kissing him, and like the lovesick fool he is, he’s kissing you back. It’s pure muscle memory, maybe even animal instinct. He thought that leaving Tokyo was the right thing to do, and for the most part, it was, but with your lips perfectly melding with his own, he thinks that leaving was stupid.

Making out is such a juvenile ordeal, but he relishes in it because Suguru feels like he’s spent most of his youth trying to outrun it, and now he’s trying to take advantage of what his boyhood should have consisted of. The kisses are now bordering on sloppy and hazy, and somehow, you end up straddling his lap. He’s hard, and he should be embarrassed at popping a boner just from wet kisses, but it’s you. You have an effect on him that no one else does. His Achilles. The one weakness only he can feel.

Suguru knows that he is not a good person because a good person doesn’t go behind their best friend’s back and fucks their little sister. He had told, thirty minutes before introducing you to the feeling of his cock stretching you out, that the two of you shouldn’t be doing that. Suguru knows that he is not a good person because he cannot be any happier at the fact that history has a funny way of repeating itself. Six years later, and the two of you are back in a similar position.

You’re starting to rut against him, your dress riding up your thighs and exposing more of your skin to him. Suguru helps himself to handfuls of your soft flesh, squeezing in a manner that can’t be defined as gentle, but he loves how you take him as he is without any sort of complaint. All you do is let out a low moan, your pantyclad pussy grinding against his equally clothed bulge.

Your movements are a bit desperate, frenzied. You’re getting lost in pleasure already, and he hasn’t even done much to elicit such a reaction. The idea that only he can get you this riled up with doing so little makes him impossibly harder, and he looks down, realizing that you’re so soaked, your panties are practically translucent.

The two of you have the option of taking things slow, but neither of you want to do that. When you spend some time starving, you don’t savor the meal, you scarf it down.

That’s what the two of you are — hungry, greedy — as you both hastily strip as much clothing as you can bear to spend time getting out of. Your minidress is tossed carelessly on the living room floor, and Suguru can only bother with unzipping his pants and pushing down his briefs just enough to free his cock.

The intrusion of the tip of his cock entering your wet, needy cunt is less of an intrusion and instead akin to something rightfully returning to where it belongs. Your hands are tangled in his hair, and he relishes this feeling. This wholeness, this concept of being complete.

The inviting warmth of your pussy makes him want to cum right on the spot, but he can’t waste it. He’s spent years pining after you, missing you, and he wants you to feel like the time apart had been worth it.

“I missed you.” This time it’s him who makes the admittance. You tighten up at this confession, and it evokes a low groan from him, almost as if you had forced the sound to come from all the way down his throat.

“I know.” You gasp out, not able to speak clearly with how deep Suguru is hitting. Your living room is filled with the wet clicks and slaps of skin against skin, your juices coating his cock every time he pulls out.

The vein on the underside of his cock rubs against your walls, and the slight curve of it enables him to hit that gummy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You’ve never given much thought to cocks, but you know that Suguru’s is the prettiest of them all.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He grunts out, lips brushing against the soft skin of your neck before biting down; gentle enough not to draw blood, sharp enough to still leave a mark. You rock against him, hips moving in tandem with his thrusts, the steady hum of pleasure continuously building up in your lower belly. You are dizzy with pleasure; blanketed in it, being spoon fed it.

He doesn’t need you to say it to know it’s true, but you moan it out anyway, both to appease him and because there’s a sort of pride in knowing that you belong to him.

“I’m yours. I belong to you.” The words are separated, punctuated, by the little gasps for air you give out because with every word, he thrusts up even harder, hitting that special spot that will have you cumming all over him, making a mess.

“Yeah?” It comes out sounding like a shaky breath, and he’s close, you know it, you can feel it.

Calloused pads belonging to fingers much larger than yours are being pressed against your clit. You’re soaked, and the dryness of his hands combining with your overall slickness gives way to delicious friction that has you cumming with his name as a broken moan filtering through your swollen lips.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He mutters, relishing in the way your walls tighten, spasm, clenching and unclenching sporadically as your body loses its energy and you press yourself up against his chest.

He follows after just a few more sloppy thrusts, the last one forcing himself as deep inside of you as possible. His cum is hot and thick, and it’s filling you to the brim. If he pulls out now, it’ll flood out of you, and the thought is both sad and hot at the same time. You want his cum inside of you, to serve as a reminder that this is real, that he’s real.

But seeing the physicality of him staking his claim, white seed dripping out of you, turns you on. Him, too, with the look of fascination and boyish wonder he has in his eyes as he stares at how the two of you are connected.

Before he can bother with confirming a round two, a sharp knock on the door has the two of you comically jumping a bit in surprise, both of you glancing at the door and then at each other.

“[Name], I know you’re in there!” You freeze.

Satoru.

Suguru wants to try to calm you down, whisper to you that everything’s going to be fine, but the anger laced in his best friend’s — former best friend’s — voice is enough to make him freeze up, too. Not just his icy tone, but what he says.

“I know you’re back, too, Suguru.”

#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #one shot #jjk x reader #jjk smut #angst #drabble #imagine

2K notes · View notes

yuorai · 3 months ago

Text

DP x DC Prompts

So I was reading "The Misadventures Of Cosplay Man" by Shynnohwen(really recommend it), and I though "What if Danny was cosplaying after villains?".After that I was unstoppable.

Okay, it will get more angsty or if you want more comedic degree feel free to change it at your liking.

I want it to get in more dark turn?Yeah, something like that.

*Danny's life went to shit.Nasty Burger exploded as if he didn't tried to get ride of this turn of events.But this is where everything goes worse.To this horrific scene comes GIW, but less to help and more to capture Danny(you can come up with a reason of how they connected that Phantom is Danny).

There comes months of experiments and eventually, they tried to damage his core, to pull away his core for later examination, but Danny's body, core reacts and he Wails.Something that he wasn't able to do because of cuffs and collar that would suppress his powers.With that he tooks off flying.

But Clockwork was waiting for opportunity like this and opens a portel to his Tower and Frostbite patches their little king up.Then Clockwork sends him to a new universe, telling him that he would be safe there.

And with that Danny ends up in Gotham(you could choose other cities, it's just in my head it's more dp x batman than anything, but as I said you can change it at your liking).

Danny's core was damaged, not in Dan's like destructive but his obsession was twisted(you can come up with explanation).Now his core wants to spread pain and despair to everyone and Danny can't refuse to it.So what he does?Spreads his destruction towards villains that deserves it while cosplaying as them.

So 1.villains would though Danny is a follower and would let their guard down.And 2.he didn't cosplay as heroes bc he doesn't want their reputation to go down.And most importantly 3.to left his identity unclear.

With it he starts his adventures.

* While in the heroes side everyone goes nuts.

Batfamily finds new criminal activity in their city and starts investigating.But they're surprised to find a literal kid fight off villains while cosplaying as them.So they're trying to find more information about this villain? vigilante?anti-hero?

They get to see his battle against (insert villain) and saw his disturbing amount of skills and experience he has.They wasn't able to talk to him because he took off running.

After this they get to encounter more and more and they grew attached to this kid and they were sure this kid also was growing attached to them.

Batfamily was sure this was some very sick kid that has to fight against villains for personal reasons or for someone else.

After the most destructive villains have been reduced to a state of complete inability to do anything bad, he disappears.

Batfamily is worried but then they hear story from (insert JL memb) that there were someone who was cosplaying as their enemy and took them in the fight with ease.Batman shares his encounters with him(I need to seriously come up with a name to Danny) and everyone in JL keeps an eye on him.

Every superhero is worried abt this sick kid fighting against evil without help and villains is scared abt being his next target while Danny is oblivious to all of this.

#dpxdc #dp x dc prompt

221 notes · View notes

opal-owl-flight · 3 months ago

Note

can I ask about the poster "agent 3" kids story?

Yes you can and here it all is!! Presenting…

tldr: She comes from a family of big name actors in the industry, and shes been raised from hatching to continue their legacy. Its…a lot of pressure to put on a kid, especially one who just wants to make her (impossible to satisfy) family proud. Despite being surrounded by impossible standards, the fakest friends chosen for her, being given everything she can ever want (except what she really needs), and putting on a hundred masks for everyone in her life for survival’s sake in a cutthroat industry, she chooses to be kind.

more details under the cut!!

Her name is Sariwa, which means “fresh” . Named for her spring green tentacles and as a blessing from her parents that shed stay youthful, beautiful. a hope that she would be seen and be adored (as freshness implies coolness/popularity in sploonworld).

Shes hatched into the acting industry, with both parents being big in the industry. From hatching she was expected, trained to be an actor like her mother is. The media adores them, this “sweet little family”, but no one knows how nefarious everything is when the cameras are off.

The dad is neglectful, disappearing into meetings most of the time. The mom is a helicopter parent to make up for it. Pointing out every flaw that Sariwa apparently has in either performance or appearance. Never giving praise. Except when she performs “well enough” on stage. This instills in the child this need to make them proud. to…to make everyone happy. She becomes someone whose dependent on other peoples’ praise to function.

Shes given everything else, dont get me wrong. Every material thing she’ll ever need. all the big popular “friends” chosen for her. But…shes not allowed to turf. yknow. biggest event in an inkling’s life here in Inkopolis. and shes not allowed to go to school either. shes too busy memorizing lines for adverts or-

The second she turned 14, she was chosen as the lead role for Cuttlegear’s brand new show abt Agent 3. She looked exactly like the legendary hero, according to the sources. All her time went into this project. Thankfully, unlike at home…her co-actors were very kind. Her parents didnt choose for her this time. She was meeting actual people who dont put on masks beyond their job. the actor they got for Cuttlefish, in particular, is a very kind soul, defending her when the directors get too pissy with her performance. (Those are the only people she fears, tbh shes fearful of most authority figures.)

*Cuttlefish is also depicted as kind and supportive in the show. and in most games. Unlike the real Cuttlefish, which is kind of a loony old man who pushes ideas on young inklings. He still gives more support and kindness that 3s dad ever gave, but thats only RELATIVE to how little he gave in the first place. One can only imagine the longing this inspires in the real 3.

Sariwa…since shes hatched shes had to put on an act. Be the perfect little doll for her parents. For the world. But her friends here, they inspired her to…have fun with what shes doing again. To take off the mask (mostly beyond the clock). Breathe life in the character when she can. (But lets be real…shes getting 3 spot on with how many parallels they have with each others lives.)

But what is she beyond the mask, her role? She wasnt allowed to do anything beyond this. She was forced to depend on her abusive parents and their associates. She cant live alone beyond them. Not allowed to turf bc shes “a prim and proper young lady; above such violent drivel that only delinquents participate in”. They gesture to 3, whos one of the faces Squidforce uses in their promotions, and say (ironically.) that she must not become that. Face ripped to shreds and eye mangled.

No one knows they got that from the real war that Sariwa is pretending to show.

The show does its best to be an accurate telling. Child friendly, to a point. Horrifying things still get kept in somewhat. Things that will horrify a child on stage.

If Sariwa is terrified of the props, can you imagine how it was for 3?

————————

And once she realizes all of this. Once she gets out of this situation thanks to Callie, Marie, and 3 themself. Does she feel guilt? Guilt for depicting the horrors in a way that glorifies it instead? A part of a project that aims to make people complacent to the real horrors that churned below?

There is one thing Sariwa feels about 3, that I am aware of rn.

“Im glad, that out of every story I couldve told, Im glad it was yours.”

Just like 8, she sung this tale in her hearts. Just like 8, she used this to break out of this terrible situation, answering the call of the ones who promised her safety. A better life. Like the way she stage broke through that prop in the choreographed Octavio fight, she broke through the influence of those around her.

*She actually went off-script a bit in that scene. After she beat down Octavio, she held out her hand. Mostly to help the actor up. But then, without realizing, she spoke, she spoke of making things better between the nations. That maybe he doesnt have to steal the zapfish anymore.

Her time with the octoling actors, and hearing the stories from the ex-octarians, made her aware and know the fact that theyre people too. The directors kept it in. They knew that if they released this as they have planned it, there will be fuckign riots from the ex-octarians or the Inkling “sympathizers”.

She saw the value this story held, despite the subliminal messaging that she wished wasnt implemented. That she wished she wasnt a part of. She saw that its a tale of hope. A tale that inspires one to become the hero of their own life. A tale that inspires one to make the world a better place.

————————

So she was hatched and raised to make people smile, singing her songs and dancing their dances. Much like the clan singer that was 4, except the tradition is much more healthy compared to industry standard. And she didnt become as mean as the people around her, at least not internally. She put on a mean mask but she felt the void within. When she was given kindness for a long enough time, she put her walls down.

And just like the real 3, she underwent through the horrors of expectations she had to hold up, and trying to make uninterested parents proud. They dont see her as their daughter, shes just a means to an end. She had to wear a hundred masks to survive and it made her lose her sense of identity. She had to be mature, she had to take the shitty behavior of adults who expect her to be like one too. It made her lose grip of who she is beyond this role. Hell, they made her so dependent on their handouts that shes not sure she can exist beyond this hell. Much like how 3 struggles to know a life beyond their duty.

And much like 8, she used the story she was telling to break out and get herself in a better situation. She met with the real Agents 1 and 2 (without her knowledge) and asked. Begged. for help, after her show ended. (3 also kind of pointed the two in her direction. Bc cod knows how horrifying this industry is. Shes lucky she didnt get any of the grosser horrors ~~its bc I didnt feel comfortable writing such topics~~)

And then shes faced with the same problem all the real legends faced. What comes after the end? When the dust clears, what happens next? She wasnt given a damn choice, she wasnt allowed to try to learn things beyond this role. to be beyond an imagined agent 3. a soldier for the screen. who is she now, that shes out of that battlefield?

little does she realize that the real 3s asking the same question for themself.

#splatoon #splatoon oc #oc #character design #original character #opal owl’s nest #Cuttlegear isnt related to the NSS nor the Inkadian military in my interp — theyre history enthusiasts #btw yes uhh shes from a Phillippine inspired region!#or family who moved to Inkadia from there.

155 notes · View notes

mundoperla · 2 years ago

Note

What about… RZ Michael Myers doing something unholy, like he’s really horny, with his fem friend (also a patient) at the Smith’s Grove? Like in some corridor or smth 👀 Wall sex, whaaat???

Would be grateful and on my knees, thanks 🙏

this got me kicking my feet in the air like a schoolgirl rn

& its my favorite michael??? ofc im abt to tackle this tf😩💜

𝙍𝙕 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡 𝙈𝙮𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

— No matter how many cameras there are, there will always be blind spots.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

you see the title bitties here are the warnings vv

⚠️⚠️cws;; basically public sex, wall sex ofc, michael being HORNY, p in v but i think thats kind of expected, overall that nasty shit (lighthearted)⚠️⚠️

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

Despite his lack of communication, Michael made your stay at Smith’s Grove much more pleasant. He never acted out or caused any type of problems when you first arrived, he’d been relatively calm for quite some time now. Always alone in his room, no sound, no nothing, just him making masks in silence.

It was his creativity that sparked your initial interest in him in the first place. His walls were cover from top to bottom in the masks he’d make in his alone time, many ranging from different colors and shapes. Truthfully he never wanted to interact with you whenever you’d make a quick pass by his room to go somewhere on the other side of the hospital, there was a point in time where he found you annoying even.

Yet no matter how much time passed you’d still swing by with a quick ‘hello!’. It escalated to a point where you would linger on the other side of his door and hold up one sided conversations with him, of course him never responding to you verbally. It was alright though, body language is able to tell you enough.

You did all of the talking for the two of you, which all though he never spoke aloud, he appreciated. He hasn’t spoken in years and by the looks of it he wasn’t going to any time soon. Trust me, Dr. Loomis has tried.

You were no threat to Michael to begin with, he had no reason to dismiss you unless he had become tired of your company; which very rarely happened. He was surprisingly as patient as you were with him, perhaps this was his own way of saying ‘thank you’.

The two of you were almost like a joined pair after he had grown slightly more comfortable around you, if you went somewhere—Michael followed, if Michael went somewhere — you would follow. It was shocking to everyone that he’d show even such a small form of attachment to another living being without brutally murdering it. Of course in the early stages of your ‘friendship’ the two of you were heavily monitored before you could be permitted to be in spaces together alone with just a nurse on standby.

“ I’m gonna go ask one of the doctors if I can have another juice, you want one too ? ”

Michael won’t verbally respond, but he will turn his eyes down to the floor at your question.

“ Alright so that’s a no. Sit tight I’ll be right back. ”

He watched you sit up from the table the two of you sat at, disappearing into one of the many hallways. He had originally got up to go and follow you like he always did, but something inside him told him not to, it had told him something else.

He ever so slightly considered you as some kind of companion, but he wanted you as something else. You were very beautiful to him and some of the other patients on your side of the building, it’s normal to think someone is nice looking. Yet he’d catch himself staring a bit too hard when you would do the simplest of things such as drinking some water or even when you stretched and a sliver of your stomach would be exposed. Was it also normal to have these filthy thoughts directed towards a so-called ‘friend’?

The bulge in his pants grew ever so larger the longer he sad and pondered. He needed to ‘fix’ this before you came back and saw. Would you think he was disgusting if you did see him this way? Surely you would.

You had come back to your shared table empty handed only to see that Michael was gone, maybe he’d gone back to his room? He could be tired, nothing wrong with just a quick swing by his door and wish him goodnight.

There were quite a few cameras the closer you got to Michael’s room, just as you turn into the corridor large hands yank you from the entrance to a darker corner of the hall. You’d mentally braced yourself to be strangled by this unknown person, but familiar blonde strands of hair loomed above you, of course the orange mask eased the tension much more.

Michael silently stared down at you, you could just barely see his sky blue eyes behind the paper mask. But now left the following questions, why was he just waiting in the corner? why is he now all of a sudden making actual physical contact with you? Truthfully one could only imagine the worst in the sense of it being correlated with him of all people, but the worst never came.

You’d opened your mouth to speak but you’re immediately silenced by the feeling of his erection pressing itself into your ass. He was rubbing himself against you now, still as silent as ever, showing no sign of satisfaction.

“ Mike- Michael! There’s cameras, we can’t do this here, we could get caught.. ”

Of course he doesn’t give you a verbal response, but this time will give you a slow twirl of his finger, telling you to look around you. There weren’t any cameras that could catch you in their line of sight, and the one camera that was much closer than the rest faced the opposite direction where you had originally been grabbed.

He was telling you it was safe to continue, you were clear to unfold. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit aroused as him, maybe even more. Using his cold hands to slide under your shirt so he could squeeze the soft flesh of your breasts, to then slowly migrate under the fabric of your pants to rub you through your underwear. You’d began to grind back into him, trying to pull down his own pants down as well as your own so the two of you could ease this tension much quicker.

Michael had fantasized about how you would feel around his cock, the way you would squeeze him and the sounds you could make when he started to thrust, he couldn’t live with the possibility of another person pleasuring you instead of him. He needed to be the one to take you, you may not be aware but you’re in fact his and his only. Maybe he liked you alot more than what he initially thought.

Your body trembled as Michael moved your body slightly so you were now fully pressed against the wall with him standing behind you, one hand held you in place by the hip whilst the other began to align himself against your hole, knowing him there will be no auditory warning that he’d be sliding in. You’re not a pussy, you could take him, couldn’t you ?

Both of your hands rested on the white brick walls, truthfully you weren’t even sure he was going to fit inside. He’s taking his sweet time behind you. You’re really about to become his in a dark corner that surveillance could not reach, this could have been much better under different circumstances, but neither of you could chose the have sex in a different location at this time, you’ll take what you can get.

The stretch that followed after an agonizing 15 seconds of the man behind you pondering could be considered as beyond painful, your hand quickly covering your mouth to muffle your whimpers. He can feel your walls clamp around him, gushing uncontrollably by the sudden rush of pleasure. He’s not even halfway inside you yet, but you’ve got his pelvis and a small bit of the floor wet now, clearly you wanted this as much as he did.

You don’t get the luxury of Michael stopping in his tracks to let you breathe before he continues to push himself into you, however you get the honor or him bending himself over enough to cover your mouth with his own hands instead of your own. Now you just had to focus on keeping yourself steady while he takes what’s his.

You’d think he had never hear the word ‘gentle’ in his lifetime. His thrusts were fast yet also powerful, despite his hands covering your mouth small moans still escaped. He had just started yet you felt so fucked out already, your legs trembling, your juices dribbling down your thigh and back down onto the floor.

He fucks you like you’re a fleshlight, dominantly chasing his own high but still trying to get you to come undone as well. He’s intentionally trying to break you as much as possible before the two of you have to eventually wrap up, his hands shy away from your mouth, one to slither down to toy with your clit whilst the other grips onto one of your tits as he continues to pound himself into your cunt like a man possessed. He makes it impossible not to scream but you are aware to still keep your voice down as much as possible.

“ Michael.. Keep moving just like that.. I’m so- Fuck.. ”

Your voice had continued to quiver the longer he kept going, the coil in your belly was about to snap once again. Michael considered finishing inside as some kind of ‘mark’ to leave behind, but he could always wait for another time to have that visual. For right now it was your ass that he had decided on, he’d still get a satisfactory visual of himself on you.

Practically yanking himself out of you just as you had came, his warmth begins to coat your skin. You’re lightheaded and you could feel your legs about to give out as Michael let go of you. Silently admiring his ‘art’, he’d wiped a smudge of his mess off of you with his finger, bringing it up to your lips. It was sweet but also bitter, it was him. He could leave you here to clean yourself up so he could go back to his room, but based off of how you were struggling to keep yourself up, maybe he could just take you back to your own room before departing for the night.

He had taken the time to get you dressed back up as well as himself, pulling you out of the corridor down to the hallway opposite to your own room. Your hand felt so small in his, he was intimidating to many people, but you ? There was an odd sense of security from being this close to Michael. He stood with you for a brief moment after arriving to your room, with him he could have just been there to stare at you a while longer or he was silently examining you to get a clear visual that you were okay to be left on your own now. Could have just been both.

He was exhausted now, but also mildly flustered. So much had just happened and he could barely process it. He’s turned to walk back down to his own room so that you could get some sleep as well, but is quickly stopped buy the force of you clinging yourself onto one of his arms tightly.

“ Goodnight Mikey, we should definitely do that again at some point. ”

You’re hardly standing up straight yet you’ve asked him to.. again, too much to process. But he will take your request into consideration.

┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚　　 ҉　　⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉

apologies if the ending is messy i have no clue how to properly conclude shit i tried my best

#slashers x reader #halloween 2007 #michael myers x reader #michael myers imagine #michael myers smut #slasher imagines #slasher fanfiction #slasher smut

3K notes · View notes

therubberducklad · 8 months ago

Text

HC’s abt what happened to Color Sans after Othertale was discontinued below!!!!

In OtherTale canon, Color sans absorbed the human souls to help him stop a genocidal Frisk.

Color still got killed trapped in the void after a glitched reset.

He was trying to help his Undyne, who had taken his place in the narrative, fix everything.

Then one day, everything stopped. It all froze and crumpled into nothing. Color only survived because he was in the void.

(Ink would later explain to him that what happened to his world was something that he’d only seen once or twice before, where an AU’s creator cuts it off— discontinuing it. Theres nothing you can do about it.)

Color was stuck in the void with only a goopey gaster to talk to and the human souls. But then he figures out that he can make portals!

He desired company that would understand what he’s dealing with. And so the first place he ends up in is Killer’s world.

Fun!

Because he didn’t know how to go any other places, he hung out in Undertale Something New every now and then. Just so he wouldn’t go CRAZY.

Back then, Killer’s stage-2 killer was actually insane, but while in stage-1 he and Color got along!

Killer’s Chara had been killed by him and his world’s ‘story’ had completed— he couldn’t reset it.

Color and Killer became really close after like a year of it just being them.

Then Nightmare rolled up to Killer’s world, his negative aura (accidentally) and immediately putting Killer on stage 2.

Nightmare offered Killer a job, and killer accepted! It would take YEEEAARRRSSS for him to stabilize in stage-2 enough to realize that he left Color behind.

Color was so so so worried when killer just disappeared.

Killer disappeared, just like everyone else Color loved did. He felt like he failed to save his loved ones all over again.

Eventually he was found by Core, he moved to the Omega timeline, he found out that Killer was working for Nightmare.

Color assumed Killer was forced.

Meanwhile Killer, Dust, Horror and Cross were having a jolly old hurt/comfort time! I subscribe to Dadmare headcanons, sorry canon nightmare 🤧

Anw Color, with the enthusiastic support of the human souls, swore to help Killer get free.

#this is me loving Color and Killer’s story but also wanting Dadmare #color sans x killer sans #killer sans #killersans #Color sans #Colorsans #colorkiller #utmv #undertale multiverse #undertale au #undertale fandom #underverse #sans #othertale #Othertale sans #something new #Colour Sans #Coloursans #Colourkiller

260 notes · View notes

freakymcnastys · 3 months ago

Text

“lover you should’ve come over ” toge inumaki x fem!reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ "all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter"

content: the shibuya incident, talk of dying, death, blood, ANGST, short (abt like 900 words), you have a smoke related cursed technique, ur a 2nd year, aoi todo is ur older brother :D, fight scene sucks (sorry..),,,,

AS YOU WERE FIGHTING a bunch of low-grade 2 curses you felt a glint of something else in your smoke. This one wasn’t with the rest of the grade twos…this had to be a special grade at least..but once you figured it out, it was right behind you. The 'it' in question was none other than Sugaru Geto, this sent a chill down your spine. Something in your brain told you that you couldn’t possibly beat him; that you could maybe slow him down.

“Y/n!” Shit. You knew that voice, how could you not. If it had been any other mission you would've been happy seeing your brother but this mission would cost you your life and you didn’t want your brother to witness it. No matter how strong he or anyone says he is, Yuta could barely take Geto so the likelihood of this fight coming out in their favor was slim to none.

“I have a question, Geto.” You said into the smoke, knowing that your technique would carry your voice to the curse. He just hummed in response with a smile on his face. “Where’s Gojo?” You wanted to know if the so-called slim chance would come to help you mid-fight. This made Geto laugh a little. “In the prison realm, where he should be.” You just bitterly scoffed. “Well, at least I know you're not the real Geto.”

He just shrugged before getting into a fighting position. You then used your smoke to confine your opponent, making it morph into a solid in an attempt to harm him. But, unfortunately, he dodged it before it caused any real damage. The only damage done was a small cut. “Not bad, for a monkey.” He hummed before sending a curse towards you--two actually although you didn’t see the other one. “Seriously? Some low level curse-” You said, almost offended at his attack but before you could finish something shot through your middle causing a gasp to escape you.

“Yet not good enough..” He said disappointed. You couldn’t reply back because of the aching pain from the impalement, although soon enough you killed the curse, removing what was protruding in your abdomen. Muffled yells from the other side of your smoke became louder since it started disappearing considering your injury. You moved your hand in an attempt to stop the blood from escaping your body, but all you felt was the warm liquid pooling in your palm. “I’ll spare him–since I'm feeling so merciful.” Geto waved his hand as he walked off to find Itadori aka Sukana's vessel. Aoi’s heavy steps stopped behind you as he took in the sight. You knew that he would blame himself for the inevitable outcome of the fight. “Aoi?” Your voice cracked as tears drew from your eyes, unbeknownst to you. “Y/n listen I’m gonna get you to Shoko and she’s gonna fix you right up...okay?” The look the two of you shared said something else. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t make it to the street, but he didn't have the heart to say that.

Aoi still picked you up, the grip caused you to cry out in pain. He flinched at the sound before walking to the doors to the street. Continuous whimpers and cries came from you but Aoi wanted to try and get to Shoko as fast as he could. They reached the street and saw Inumaki and Panda fighting a bunch of curses, the two sensed a presence behind them, and turned around quickly. Both were ready to fight but stopped instantly at the sight of their friend being carried and Aoi covered with blood.

“Is that y/n..?” Panda asks in a whisper as Inumaki feels his heart drop. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You both were supposed to go on a date after you got back from this. You promised him. This wasn’t fair! Toge had tried to be fair and (mostly) kind to everyone so why was this happening to him? He had never asked for anything selfish in his life. So why him.

The full moon at night beamed onto y/n's corpse, making you look almost angelic. The crimson blood slowly started to dry up as your conciseness left a while ago. Aoi knew you'd been dead since your cries slowly faded but he refused to turn his head to check. He was scared to cause his little sister any more pain than she already was in.

Strangely enough, Toge remembered something that you had said to him some time ago, finding it weird to think about that memory at a time like this. You and him were sitting on the concrete stairs as Panda, Maki, Nobara and Megami were training for the exchange event. You were laughing at specifically Panda and Nobara, and you didn’t notice the lingering eyes of the cursed speech user next to you. The sheer admiration in his eyes could’ve made anyone swoon. Ever since you had transferred from the Kyoto sister school, he had taken a liking to you. Always walking with you, training, trying to communicate with you.

“Hey you okay–do I have something on my face…?” You asked with a light smile. “Bonito flakes” He nodded from side to side. “Oh good well um what’s up?” You asked curiously. “Salmon.” He just pointed to his ears swiftly. The two of you established some simple signs to communicate easily. “Sure I’ll talk!” You beamed before turning your body to the boy. Then you proceeded to talk about anything coming to your mind but one thing in specific Inumaki seemed to remember. “Ya know I feel like I know what dying would feel like–” You trailed off.

“Mustard leaf..” Toge loved hearing you talk but whenever you got to talking about these topics he got slightly worried. “No no it’s alright..” You laughed a little at his worry. Inumaki felt his heart skip a beat, call it cliche but something he would never hate listening to is your laughter.

“It's just something I’ve thought of–or rather what I hope it’d be like..” As you continued your thought he listened to you intently, although not liking what you were talking about but it wasn’t something you could help thinking about especially while being a jujutsu sorcerer. “I kinda hope it’s like when you fall asleep at a family party when you were younger and you get carried to your bed and you can hear the laughter in the next room…” You sighed with a small smile, feeling the wind pass the two of you. The sun turning sides of pink and orange meaning you guys should probably turn in for the night. Seeing you in this light made him want to freeze the picture and savor it forever, too scared of it slipping away.

Why was that the thing Toge had to remember while seeing your body. He hates to admit it but he hopes the same thing too–for your sake…and his own.

(putting it out there i LOVE angst so expect it from me 😏😏 also big brother todo>>>)

- love always, kat

#jjk x reader #jjk #inumaki toge x reader #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #angst #jjk angst #sorry guys

81 notes · View notes