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wttcsms · 7 months

Text

i'll pretend you'll stay forever ; kento nanami.

pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 2.4k synopsis no one knows that the bodyguard for the prime minister's daughter fucks her on a daily basis. content contains bodyguard!nanami x prime minister's daughter!reader, big, beefy, strong nanami hehe, creampie, slight brat taming, pet names (baby, good girl, bad girl), cockwarming, dom!nanami, hair pulling, car sex, nanami makes you call him sir author's notes s2 was animated for the nanami girlies

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

Granted, he’s been practically bred for the position. Born and raised by a mother and father who also dealt in espionage, sent to boarding schools that would feed him directly to The Academy, constantly being reminded of his purpose. Agent Nanami serves as one of the Prime Minister’s most trusted secret operatives. A select few who are given the most sensitive assignments.

“K-Kento — too much,” your shaky whines sound even louder than they actually are, emphasized by the silence in his car.

Sensitive — yes, that’s what you are.

“You can take it.” He tells you, gently stroking your cheek. His calloused thumb wipes away a stray tear, and he takes you in. You’re still tearing up, your lashes slick, and you’re pouting at him. You’re always pouting, probably because growing up, you’ve never been told no. It’s not required according to his assignment file (most of what Nanami has been doing with you has decidedly been not required), but Nanami’s been trying hard to give you lessons that will have you behaving politely and like a good girl rather than the spoiled brat you actually are.

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

When he’s told that he is to be the primary bodyguard for the Prime Minister’s daughter, he accepts it without hesitation. Everyone else has had no luck with you, and you certainly don’t seem to be bothered by that fact. You’re in college now, and you want nothing more than to skip lectures and go to parties, both of which is rather difficult when you have a bodyguard watching your every move and reporting directly to your father.

Nanami goes about his assignment in a different way. There’s another bodyguard, one who is also watching you, but young Itadori cannot possibly go about protecting the Prime Minister’s most beloved daughter safe all by himself. He’s barely graduated from the Academy.

Besides, you automatically dislike any of the guards assigned to you. Itadori is a nice, young man, and in different circumstances, everyone is certain that you would have enjoyed his company. The fact that his job is to protect you seems to be his only fatal flaw in your eyes.

Nanami is no stranger to undercover work, and so posing as a final year doctoral candidate at the university you’re attending is an easy cover. Setting up the perfect chain of events that leads to you specifically choosing him to be your economics tutor was also an easy enough task.

And somewhere along the lines, you got this idea inside of your pretty, little head that you’re just the smartest, sneakiest girl around. You think you’re evading Itadori’s watchful eyes, taking advantage of his rookie status even though he’s always aware you’re “sneaking off” to meet with Nanami. You think you’re finally rebelling against your father’s strict instructions to stay out of trouble.

And while Nanami does ensure that you keep out of trouble, he’s not sure if your father will approve with how he’s keeping you so obedient.

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

You’re not the first brat that he’s had to train, but you’re proving to be quite the star student. You hold back any more whining complaints, and instead, you’re straddling his lap like the good girl he knows you can be, his thick cock fitting snugly inside your pussy.

Both of your hands are clutching onto his broad shoulders, your pretty, manicured nails digging into the stiff cotton of his blue button-up. His mind doesn’t register the sting of your nails practically sinking into his skin. All he can focus on is what a pretty, dazed little mess you are.

“See?” He coos, sounding not the least bit condescending. The warmth of his baritone, the reassuring strokes on your cheek — Nanami is a gentleman. You practically beam with pride as he tells you, “I told you you could take it. Such a good girl.”

You still haven’t moved yet, and Nanami whispers more words of praise for you. It only took two weeks of training to get you to understand that you can beg for his touch, his attention, his cock, all you want, but he gives it all to you under his terms and conditions. He knows you want some friction, knows that you need it so badly because why else are your walls clenching down so heavily on his length? You’re being so patient with him that he feels himself getting impossibly harder at the thought of your perfect behavior.

“You want to ride me, baby?” The question comes out as a throaty whisper, the clear desire he has for you evident in his rough tone.

You nod eagerly, damn near salivating at the thought of finally being able to take what you want.

“Use your words.” He demands, moving his hand to caress your face once more before letting his thumb toy with your bottom lip.

“Yes,” you whimper out, trying your hardest to resist the temptation to start moving, to have the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls, in and out, in and out.

His eyes narrow, and his cold demeanor is enough to keep you frozen in place. Oh, you’ve upset him.

“You were being such a good girl, too.” He shakes his head in disappointment. “When you answer me, what are you supposed to say?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“And if you knew this, why didn’t you say it the first time?” The way he snaps at you shouldn’t give your tummy butterflies, but it does. Nanami is far kinder and gentler than he lets on, and it’s why you enjoy it when he takes on such a demanding role when it’s just the two of you. No one can handle your attitude as well as Nanami, and that’s precisely why you’re warming his cock right now, walls tightening around him with every stern scolding that leaves his mouth.

“You can’t answer me?” The sharpness of his tone turns you demure, making you turn your head down and away from him, refusing to answer or look at him, and he frowns at that. You feel him wrapping your hair around his hand, and the movements are soft, slow, gentle at first—

—and with speed and dexterity that shouldn’t belong to a mere student, he’s yanking you by your hair, forcing you to snap your head up and look him in his cold eyes.

“You were behaving so well earlier.” He feigns disappointment, but the hungry glint in his eyes tells you that he’s been looking forward to whatever punishment he has in store for you. “What a shame. I was going to let you have me however you wanted, let you take control for once.” He leans down, whispering in your ear. “Instead, it looks like I get to fuck you like the bad girl you really are, hm?”

Before you can protest, apologize, beg for mercy, he takes his free hand to grip your waist, strong enough to lift you slightly off of him, only to slam you back down on his dick.

You let out a strangled cry at the sudden intrusion. It’s one thing to have him sink into you inch by inch; it’s another thing entirely to have him practically impale you with his dick.

His thrusts are rough, hard, unforgiving. Never sloppy, though — Nanami’s much too meticulous to reduce himself to a wild animal, even though he’s fucking you so hard, you can’t tell if he hates your guts or just wants to rearrange them.

His hand is still tangled in your hair, and he pulls some more, forces your neck to arch up. He leans in, licking at the soft skin of your neck before nipping at the skin, hard enough to leave a mark you’ll need to cover up with a turtleneck because no amount of concealer can save you now.

You mewl in pain at the sensation, but it’s obvious you love it. You’re dripping all over his dick, forcing wet, squelching sounds to fill the car every time he moves inside of you. You should be ashamed — would be ashamed — if only the overwhelming pleasure didn’t leave your mind shrouded in a hazy mist of lust and rapture. The pinpricks of pain from how he’s pulling your hair and from the fresh lovebites marking your flesh should hurt more, but you’re too lost in the way his cock is filling you up.

“Look at that.” Nanami growls, untangling his hand from your hair in favor of putting his fingers to better use: stroking your clit. “You’re fucking soaked.” You look down as he commands, and your eyes widen in surprise, even though it shouldn’t come as such a shock to you. The front of his trousers is absolutely drenched with your juices, and your clit practically glistens in the faint moonlight that sneaks past the tint of his car. “Is this why you like to be a bad girl? Because you like getting fucked like a fleshlight, is that it?”

You want to shake your head no. You want to tell him that you are good, that you’re not a bad girl. But the stimulation on your clit, his harsh words, the way his cock is repeatedly hitting that special spot of yours — it’s all too much for you to handle.

“I want to treat you so well, baby. I want to spoil you, give you everything, but you make it so — fucking — difficult.” He speaks through clenched teeth, the warmth and ecstasy of being buried in your sweet pussy slowly chipping away at his resolve. The last three words of his sentence have all been punctuated by a particularly brutal thrust, and you’re certain that by the end of this, your cunt will keep the shape of his cock forever.

“I’m sorry!” You scream out, tears flowing freely down your cheeks now. The pleasure is mind-numbing, earth-shattering, reality-altering. Neither of you know what you’re apologizing for. Is it for being a bad girl when all Nanami wants is for you to behave so he can bring you the world at your feet? Is it for the wet mess you’re making all over his nice clothes and cock? Or is it for the fact that you’re breaking a cardinal rule, one that he will be most displeased by?

Maybe it’s all of the above, but if you had to pick, the apology would be for the fact that you’re cumming without permission. Your conscious mind is aware that Nanami is not going to be very happy with you, but this climax has you seeing stars. You can’t find it in yourself to worry about future consequences when you’re losing yourself in the throes of passion and pleasure. You’re drenching his cock in your cum, seeing stars, and reduced to feeling like a boneless mess. You slump against his strong chest, eyes struggling to remain open as you rest your head on one of his big, broad shoulders.

The punishment doesn’t come immediately — it rarely ever does. Nanami bides his time and doles out his punishments when you least expect it. He does it to keep you on edge, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you.

Instead, he lets you rest against him, reduced to nothing more than a little, fucked-out mess. You feel a rumble from his chest, a series of grunts and curses leaving his mouth as the bucking of his hips is done so harshly, you’re certain that you’re going to be bruised everywhere, from the soft flesh of your thighs to your poor cervix. A few more thrusts and Nanami is certain that he is planted as deep as he could go, the tip of his cock hitting you at your most sensitive spot.

You feel him bury his face into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and the lingering aroma of sex and sweat. His cock throbs in sporadic bursts, and you hear him grunt out your name like a broken prayer.

He cums, unloading a hot, heavy load directly inside of you, flooding you. You think you forget how to breathe, and all you can do is just take it, take all of him.

The warm sensation has you moaning softly; the feeling of him completely dominating your senses, your body, you, has you wanting him to never let you go, to never leave. You tighten your core, trying to squeeze more of his cum into you as he lets out little groans of pleasure from above you. You love reducing him to a moaning mess, reducing him to this sex-dazed state whenever he lets go because of you.

You don’t think you’re capable of speech, throat raw from your previous screams of pleasure, but you find that you don’t have to speak to let Nanami know what you want. As you lift your head from his shoulder, relishing in the sight of Nanami with his head leaned back, cheeks flushed from the exertion of giving you the best dick of your life, he opens his eyes to meet yours. Leaning down, he captures your lips and gives you a messy, sloppy kiss that is so unbecoming and out of character for him.

The makeout session lasts until your eyes feel droopy and you’re not responding anymore. Nanami just looks down at you with a fondness that he hasn’t felt for anyone else in a while. You’re all tuckered out, and you’re breathing softly and slowly, lost to the world of dreaming. He’s a bit exhausted, too. He should pull you off his cock and buckle you back safely in the passenger seat, but he sees a small trail of his cum dribbling out of your overstuffed pussy and he figures it’s less of a mess if he just keeps you nice and plugged up for the time being.

Before he can close his eyes and join you, the crackle of his telecom planted in his watch comes to life. The static doesn’t do much to alter Itadori’s voice.

“Y1 to K1, this is Y1 requesting status of the Princess. Over.”

The “Princess” is currently dozing peacefully with his cum settling in her cunt. Nanami thinks that’s too crude to relay over the comms, though.

“K1 to Y1, Princess is secured. Over.”

#smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #jjk smut #one shot #drabble #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #imagine #kinktober 2023

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ssahotchnerr · 7 months

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hellooo, i hope you’re doing well! would you want to write a fic where at some point aaron steals readers gum out of her mouth? this is such a random thought and i’m so sorry if this sounds weird (now that i’ve written it down and not only thought about it, it seems very weird, sorry!!!!!!), but i kind of feel like this is something he’d do when making out lol and it obviously catches her off guard the first time he does it 😁

according to plan

omg i'm putting a jealous!aaron take on this 🤭 cw; suggestiveness, established relationship, bau!reader, detective being a creep, heavy on the kissing, possessive/jealous!aaron 🦋

aaron's just about had it.

it started out as lingering stares, beginning at your face before sweeping all along your form. next, the insistent eagerness to partner up with you. and now the detective, who's name wasn't worth remembering, was at your backside, itching to get as close to you as he possibly could. any closer, he would have you pressed against the bulletin board in front of the two of you.

you were politely trying to explain the physical, common characteristics between the victims, how unsubs sometimes had a specific type and that's why they chose to acquire them. naturally he had asked you the most stupid, simplest question; just another excuse to speak to you.

all day, aaron had been silently seething, a mere bystander. but as he joined and saw the sight before him, his fists clenched so tightly his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands. enough was enough.

"do you understand now?" you naively asked, a pleased expression forming on your face when the detective nodded in confirmation. unlike aaron, you had been unaware of his ongoing actions.

"is there any way i can repay you?" he questioned smoothly, his eyes yet again dropping. this time, the attentiveness is drawn to your lips.

"no," you shake your head, your focus already directed on readjusting one of the displayed photos, the gum in your mouth producing a pop. "i'm just glad i could be of some assistance."

it's a bad habit of yours, snapping your gum too loudly. it's hard to not notice it. but fortunately, the brought focus is about to work completely in aaron's favor.

aaron calls your name, tipping his head to the side as a signal for you to come. you abide, leaving the detective right where he is and as a result, he subtly glares at aaron for interrupting his time with you and his advances. aaron steps aside to let you pass, and as soon as you do, he shoots daggers right back.

truthfully, he's extremely lucky that's all aaron did.

you follow him to one of the empty interrogation rooms, a small trek away from everyone else. once inside, aaron swiftly shuts the door behind you.

"what's-"

aaron's lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, causing you to gasp slightly in surprise, throwing your arms around his neck and instantly kissing him back.

it's all too easy to submit to aaron, allowing him to guide you and push you back against the door. he crowds you against it, his breath hot and heavy in your mouth, his hands exploring every curve of your body and more. every inch of you, is consumed by him.

the kiss is heated, desperate, and in the back of your mind, you distantly wonder why the suddenness - what has gotten into him? but with the pure vigor he's kissing you with, your brain had gone fuzzy; you were too consumed by the kiss to dwell on the potential reason why, or did you care.

aaron's large hands slide down your back, landing on and promptly squeezing your ass - hard. you gasp again, and aaron uses the sudden part of your lips to push his tongue into your mouth, sliding against your own. he can taste it - the flavor of your gum - and it only encourages him further, deepening the kiss.

you can't help let out a small moan, which aaron immediately swallows up from you, mindful of your volume within the current setting. your fingers find the nape of his neck, weaving and gripping onto his hair tight.

the kiss itself is wet and sloppy - all according to plan. and once the mint flavor fully invades his mouth, aaron forces himself to pull away.

and before it becomes impossible not to.

your eyes are wide as you look up at him. your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. you let out a breathless laugh, chest heaving up and down. "wow. i..."

you trail off, your tone leading into more or less a question. aaron leans in once more, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your lips this time. "just missed you."

you take instant note of the slight, new shift of his jaw, which prompts you to realize something from your mouth is missing.

you gape at him, jaw dropping a bit in astonishment. "wait, did you take my gum?"

aaron's way of a response is opening the door, a small nudge of his head gesturing for you to exit. "after you."

you give him a confused look, yet your eyes are still dark and lined with arousal, before heading back to the others. a deep exhale leaves you as you walk away, an attempt to cool down before facing anyone else.

this time, when the detective's stare returns to you both, aaron's the one loudly snapping the gum.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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incorrectbatfam · 2 months

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Does the Batfamily use Damian's activities to reject invitations they don't want to go to?

Example: "I really would love to go on your planet/dimension but I promised Damian I would help him bath the batcow this weekend"

Or "the little one has a school project and I'll help him, I gonna be busy that night"

And something?

Bruce, on the phone: Sorry, I'm afraid I can't make it to your gala. Damian suddenly came down with a fever. You know how it is with the bug going around.

Damian: Father, I feel fine—

Bruce, covering the phone: Shush, I'm doing us a favor.

———————

Barbara: Hey, Damian got a concussion on patrol and I'm babysitting. Raincheck?

Damian: But Gordon—

Barbara: *shoos him away*

———————

Kate: I'll be late, I'm taking Damian to a root canal.

Damian: My teeth are perfectly healthy—

Kate: *muffles him with her jacket*

———————

Dick: I have to cancel. My little brother needs me right now. He's going through some tough times and I'm the closest he has to a friend.

Damian: *video calling Jon, Colin, Maya, Maps, Kathy, Billy, and Suren with the pets on camera*

———————

Steph: Heya boss, my brother just broke his leg and I need to take him to the ER. I need someone to cover my shift.

Damian: *roundhouse kicks a training dummy*

Steph: Damian, keep it down!

———————

Jason: Why I'm not gonna train the new henches? Because my brother has fucking chicken pox! Yes, you heard me right, assface. I don't care who you get as long as the orientation is done.

Damian: *has a band-aid from his booster shot*

———————

Cass: Can't dance. Baby brother needs food. Parents not home. He hasn't eaten in a week.

Damian: *devouring his second vegan sandwich*

———————

Selina: Sorry girls, my stepson's cat just died. Maybe next time.

Damian: *playing with Alfred the cat*

———————

Duke: Damian, I need you to cover for me. I'm supposed to make up a quiz but it's the Riddler again.

Damian: What story are you going with?

Duke: How about... you're stuck in the rain and I need to pick you up?

Damian: It's sunny.

Duke: Please just go with it. I'll take you to the arcade after.

Damian: *pours water on himself*

Damian, completely monotone: Oh no, I've been abandoned by my parental figures.

———————

Tim, to his secretary: Tell the board I'm canceling all my meetings this week. No one's seen my brother since yesterday and the police are now involved.

Damian: *standing next to him*

———————

Damian: *playing video games in the living room*

Alfred: Master Damian, why aren't you at school?

Damian: According to everyone else, I am experiencing a fever, concussion, tooth damage, emotional instability, broken leg, chicken pox, chronic starvation, the loss of a pet, getting stuck in a downpour, and going missing. I don't think I'm able to attend classes in such a state.

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evilminji · 8 months

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Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:

"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)

Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.

So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.

God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.

Don't get why everyone's so upset.

Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.

And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.

Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!

There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!

Then? Danny showes up.

Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.

Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.

So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.

TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.

He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.

It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.

He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.

Right there.

IN THE WATCHTOWER.

In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.

People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.

Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...

And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."

N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.

Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?

NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.

Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.

Just? Marriage Meet Cute.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #marriage meet cute au #danny phantom #damian wayne #bruce may break his no killing rule #dick DEFINITELY about to break the no killing rule #tim is making out with Kon in a closet and misses most of this #good for him honestly

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elliespet · 5 months

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loving the bff stuff lately…

bff!ellie that literally dry humps you for fun and to embarrass you in front of everyone else :p she does it so often that it only makes her craving for you stronger! every time you bend over she runs as fast as she can, almost tripping herself and falling face first. all of this just so she can place those strong hands on your hips and slam herself against your ass harshly! it was all fun and games, making you giggle and push her away in a joking manner. ellie has always been relatively touchy anyway, not that it bothered you.

though you had noticed her jokes had a slight tinge if seriousness. it wasn’t a big deal! you thought ellie was the hottest thing to ever be put on planet earth plus she was your best friend? how could you not use this to your advantage? these past few days have been horrible for her to say the least. your pretty skirts and dresses showing your whole ass every time you bent over, ‘accidentally’ dropping things multiple times throughout the day.

she did her usual, racing to get behind you. you’d, of course, push her off. teasing her with “I can’t drop one thing around you!” or “You’re like a dog in heat.” with a frown plastered on your face.

following the routine you’d been going by these past few days, you drop your keys in front of her. taking what felt like 10 years to pick them up, probably the slowest bend shes ever seen in her life, you loop your finger around the keychain and start to lift them as she places herself behind you. it wasn’t her usual rough pounding. in fact, she wasn’t even moving. “What’s your deal lately?” she questions, the button of her jeans pressed up against you just enough to make you stifle a noise. “Just clumsy i guess!” your shoulders shrug awkwardly considering the position you were in.

she sighs in response, grumbling under her breath before pulling her hips back and ramming into you according to habit. you were expecting more of a reaction. but if we’re being honest, that was the least of your worries when you were too busy dripping down your thighs. should probably go fix that huh?

#tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie williams tlou

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bonny-kookoo · 5 months

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Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Christmas

Feelings become warmer as the weather outside gets colder.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, smut, Mutual masturbation, my heart is so full

Length: 4k words (oops)

There is no taglist for this fic.

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If you ask Jungkook what he’d like for Christmas, won’t the surprise be ruined?

Then again, what if he genuinely doesn’t want anything from you for such an intimate occasion? You’re not really the textbook definition of a couple after all, the dreaded ‘L’ word having never been spoken, so maybe that’s moving too quickly too soon.

Maybe just some sweets? But he seems rather conscious about his physique, maybe he won’t eat it because it doesn’t fit his diet or something. Wait, does he even diet? How come you never thought about that?

You whine loudly in your apartment, letting your head fall into your arms on the table as your laptop offers you no advice on what to do these days. Every question that’s similar to you always includes the mention of a sugar daddy situation or whatnot, or their partners are more than twenty years apart in age, and that’s just not your problem. Jungkook isn’t.. really your sugar daddy or anything. Sure he's been paying your rent, but he’s been doing that because he wants to- you’re offering him nothing in return, and neither does he ask for something.

What are you two, really?

Is he getting you something for Christmas? He seems awfully busy these days after having returned to work from his accident, despite doctor's advice to rest a few days longer. You’re not sure why he was so eager, but you guess that that’s just who he is.

You could ask Taehyung, but that guy could never keep a secret even if held at gunpoint. One stern look from his friend and he’d spill your plan, you’re sure of it- so who else could you ask?

You wonder if Evelyn ever got him anything for Christmas. You’d love to know just to have at least some sort of measurement to go for- but then again, maybe that’s not the best idea to get inspiration from his ex wife.

Something’s heard from your bathroom. You frown.

The moment you open it, water greets you- old washing machine having given up for real now this time, as it’s got just about half an hour left of the current program running, water seeping out from the side of the door. You quickly shut it off, ripping the plug out from the socket on the wall to at least not make an even worse mess, socks soaking up the soapy smelling water.

Great.

At least your mind’s been taken off of your earlier predicament by that.

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Jungkook sighs as he leans back in his office chair, reading over the schedules and meetings again and again. He needs to make sure everything’s alright before he announces his plans to the rest of the company, not wanting to cause trouble for the new year just because of his own selfish reasons.

His secretary brings in a few signed documents, smiling kindly. “everyone’s on board with the dates.” She offers, and Jungkook nods, taking the documents to check the signatures.

“Thank you. Could you file them for me?” he asks, and she nods as always, taking them back.

“and, your uhm.. Miss Evelyn is in the lobby again, asking for you.” She cringes out a smile, making Jungkook groan in dramatized pain as he throws his head back, flinching a bit from the sudden move.

“What the hell does she want?” He whines, making his secretary send him a shrug.

“she refused to tell, as always.” She sighs. “demanded to see you.”

“And I’m about to demand a restraining order..” he mumbles to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “send her up. We both know she’s not going to leave on her own accord.” He waves off, and his secretary bows politely before she disappears out of his office.

The second Evelyn enters, he’s feeling odd again. Like he’s just even more agitated to see her than normal.

“Why did you change the pass code on our apartment?” she demands to know, and Jungkook frowns harshly at that.

“Because you no longer live there, nor have any right to enter.” He explains. “what were you doing there in the first place?”

“You said I could have my Christmas party there?” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“I said that last year, because I was not in the country anyways. “ He sighs.

“so?” she wonders, caught off guard.

“so?” He parrots. “this year I’m spending Christmas home. And I no longer need the apartment- its been up for sale since June.”

“But I need it? And you shouldn’t be alone on Christmas anyways, you could’ve attended the party.” She says, walking closer now. “I know we no longer-“

“Who said I’m spending it alone?” He asks, arms crossed to block her off, leaving back in his office chair. “Evelyn, I’ve moved on. You should do the same.”

“You can’t be serious with that kid.” She scoffs. “Jungkook do you know how ridiculous you look? They’re talking about you, you know?” she complains.

“who? Your friends?” He asks. “as if they didn’t talk about me before.”

“That’s different.” She shakes her head. “You’re in your late thirties, Jungkook. She’s what, twenty? Is she even legal?” she laughs, but Jungkook doesn’t bite the bait.

She’s got no business with you.

“I can assure you that our relationship is that of two consenting adults.” He makes sure to pronounce. “and what I do or who I’m doing what with, is none of your business, and it hasn’t been since we divorced. A choice that you happily agreed to, might I add.” He says, hitting a sore spot for her. “I ask you to leave me alone one last time, Evelyn.”

“or what.” She sneers, leaning on his table now.

“the next time you overstep a boundary, no matter which, I will be speaking to you through legal means.” He simply answers. “if I can’t get through you, maybe my lawyer can.” He shrugs off.

“Jungkook I know we ended on not so great terms, but this is stupid.” She begs. “I told you we could try again-“

“Evelyn I’m in a relationship with this woman because I want to, not because I’m in some strange crisis over the loss of you.” He hisses. “not everything is always about you, get it through your head.” He shakes his head, before he gets up to open the door of his office. “and now leave. Or I will have someone help you with that.”

It's quiet, even some of the staff outside looking anxiously as to what’s about to happen, when Evelyn walks into the doorframe.

“I hope you come to your senses soon.” She sighs, disappointed. “before you hurt another woman.” She says, before she leaves, heels loud on the floor as they disappear along with her, leaving him to close his office, and sit back down.

He's not hurting you. He’d never.

He knows he’s been very lenient with Evelyn even long after they divorced, but that was because he truly didn’t care anymore. It didn’t matter, but these days, it does. He doesn’t want her in his life anymore, because that spot she was taking up is now filled with you-

And you fit it so much better than her.

He takes his phone out to call you- a strange urgency inside of him to hear your voice right now as the call is sent out, waiting to be picked up by you. When you do, you sound out of breath. “Hey.” You say, and he chuckles.

“You sound busy.” He greets. “is it a bad time?” He asks, and you don’t answer for a second.

“A little? Not really.” You sigh. “honestly I could use the distraction.” You laugh.

“What’s wrong?” He wonders, signing out of his work laptop.

“my washing machine broke. There’s soap everywhere!” You whine. “my apartment smells like a laundry service.” You complain.

“Is it bad?” He asks, shutting the lid of his laptop. “I can come over in like, half an hour and help you clean up. Did you turn it off?” He worries, getting up to walk over and turn off the AC.

“Yeah I.. pulled the plug in a panic.” You answer. “and no, it’s not… that bad, just my bathroom flooded, it’s already draining.” You sigh. “don’t worry.”

“Hm, too late.” He teases. “I’ll come over as soon as I get out of here, okay?” He asks.

“Alright, but I’m not letting you do much anyways.” You say. “I’m still upset you went to work already.”

“I know.” He agrees, looking out the tall windows for a moment. “thank you for worrying about me.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and he’s wondering if you hung up- when you answer, softly.

“of course.” You say. “that’s what.. you know.. people like us do.” You say.

“people like us?” He wonders.

“Yeah. People who.. like each other.” You tell him.

“I think our feelings extend that of.. liking a little, don’t you think?” He chuckles.

“Maybe?” You ask. “I’m not sure. Like, I feel.. a lot more than just like I like you, but, you know..”

“I’ve not been very clear, haven’t I.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m.. a bit out of practice you could say.” He apologizes.

“No, no its fine.” You wave him off. “just… we’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” You encourage- both of you, in a way.

“I’m sure of that too.” He agrees. “text me what you’d like to eat later. I’ll pick up some food on the way over to you.” He offers.

“Will you stay over?” You wonder.

“Do you want me to?” He asks.

“…yes.” You answer, for the first time actually requesting something from him. “I want you to stay.” You say, and he can feel his heart beat faster, louder.

“Then I’ll stay.” He answers.

Unaware that after you end the call, you’re squealing into your hands like a teenage girl, while he hides his face behind his own hand, a little overwhelmed by it all.

This truly feels like love.

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“The sealing around the door has become loose.” Jungkook mentions as he inspects the old machine for what might’ve caused the soapy disaster, sleeves of his white button up rolled up to his elbows as he finds the issue. “You can just buy a new one, but to be honest, I’d rather you have an entirely new machine.” He shakes his head, leaning back on his heels where he sits on the bathroom floor. “this thing is over ten years old.”

“But they’re expensive..” you huff. “and it’s still working though?” You wonder.

“Sure, but it’s not efficient. It’s too costly to run it.” He shrugs. “what you’re saving in not getting a new one, you basically throw out every time you use it.” He explains. “I’ll buy you a new one, it’s really no big deal.” Jungkook offers as he gets up, moving to dry his hands with a towel. “For now you can wash your stuff at my house. I don’t mind at all.”

You wonder. Does he really not mind?

You’ve only spent a little less than a week at his house, but it felt a little strange. Like he was a guest in his own home the entire time. He didn’t know where certain things were, other stuff like cooking utensils seemed way too new to be used.

“What’re you thinking about?” He wonders, walking up to you to move your hands, lifting them onto his shoulders in a request to have you hug him. His own palms find their resting place on your waist, swaying you a little to the slow beat of the TV playing a Christmas commercial.

“Nothing.” You deny, hands moving to play with the short hairs on his neck.

“liar.” He accuses. “What’s on your mind?”

“Christmas?” You burst out, before you shake your head, Jungkook looking at you a bit confused. “I- I mean, do you want to.. maybe spend, you know, a day of Christmas with me?” You ask, meekly so, averting eye contact. “we could I don’t know.. bake something or..” fuck, you think. Baking?! How childish is that-

“I’d love to.” He answers, an oddly shy grin on his face as he looks at you with eyes sparkling. “I’ve never done that before.” He admits.

“never?” You ask, and he shakes his head. “what do you.. how do you usually spend Christmas?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“I don’t.”

What?

“Evelyn held her Christmas parties, but I’m not a very social guy. So I usually worked during the holidays to escape the whole trouble.” He chuckles.

“Oh.” You simply say, unsure now. You didn’t really think about the possibility of him not wanting to celebrate Christmas at all.

“But, I’d like to have a.. quiet Christmas.” He says suddenly, stepping closer to you. “with you.”

“Oh?” You wonder, finding his gaze again.

“If you’ll have me, that is.” He shrugs. “I’m not upset if you say it’s.. too fast too soon.”

Your lips part-

Before you laugh, tearfully, hiding in his chest as you begin to cry a little. He’s not sure what’s wrong, all he can offer a hand in your back as he lets you calm down.

“I’m sorry- I don’t know why I’m crying.” You laugh, wiping your eyes. “its just- I was.. I was thinking the same. The whole week.” You confess, tired of keeping it all in. “I was stressing- I want to, I want to do so many things now because I feel like I finally have a person to do them with, but I’m worried I might be doing too much now and-“

“Hey.” He says, helping you breathe for a second as he holds your face, cheeks in his palms. “Thank you so much.” He answers.

“..what?” You wonder, sniffling.

“For telling me. For.. trusting me.” He simply answers, wiping your tears. “I thought christmas presents are meant to be given on the 24th?” He chuckles, and you laugh along.

“I was actually wondering what to get you.. if you even want anything..” you shrug, looking down now.

“it really doesn’t matter.” He confesses. “You can simply.. spend that day with me, and I’m happy.”

“But, can I give you a present?” you ask, and he nods.

“if you want to, of course.” He accepts. “I.. actually have a bit of a confession of my own.” He laughs a bit shy now, sitting down on the couch with you. “I’ve worked a bit overtime. To.. do something special, not just for us, but the company as well.” He shrugs. “and you’re the main reason for it.

“Huh?” You wonder, as he opens his phone, showing some of his emails coming in.

All of them are replies to a Company schedule he’s sent out- and all of the preview texts are a variation of gratitude towards it.

“I’ve given most of the company the option to take the holidays off.” He says. “it’s not much- just the last two weeks of December, but.. it felt right.”

“How am I the reason for that?” You wonder.

“You made me realize that there’s.. things more important than work sometimes.” He shrugs, locking his phone to put it on the small coffee table. “I have so many fathers and mothers in my company. Just because I didn’t have children, or a family or just a single person to spend those days with, I never thought about them potentially needing those days off.” He shakes his head. "and if I take those days off to be with.. my own family, why not give them the option as well?” He offers. “it’s only Fair.”

“Do you never visit your parents?” You ask, unsure.

“not really. I didn’t want them to.. ask questions.” He chuckles. “when are the grandkids coming, why is your wife never here, all that.” He laughs. “Eve.. never visited my family much.”

“That sounds like she never really cared much about the holidays.” You mumble.

“She did.” Jungkook denies. “she just didn’t care about me.”

For a moment, you’re quiet- before you jump over your shadow, boldly leaning over to peck his lips, making him almost chase after you a little.

“Well, I care about you.” You confess-

And at that, he truly can’t help but lean over to kiss you properly, eagerly, to make up for the lack of words he’s able to find.

Whatever this is, he no longer cares. He just wants to keep it close, never lose it, bind you to him and have you sheltered in his own home to never have to face any bad things the world seems to throw your way ever again.

“I care about you too.” He breathes against your lips, keeping you close, hands on your waist happily welcoming you onto his lap. It’s the first time he’s seemingly demanding now- taking the upper hand as he encourages the movements of your hips grinding on him with a bit of hesitance.

He'd love to take you, right now, right here- but he also doesn’t have any protection with him.

Maybe he should always have one on hand when meeting you. His hunger is starting to grow with each time he has you, after all. “we don’t.. “ you breathlessly try and argue, as he leans hisnhead into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin. “I have no-“

“Figured.” He chuckles. “Do you want to stop?” He asks, leaning back to look at you.

“I mean.. we have to..” you shrug, and he can see the slight disappointment in your face as you try and adjust yourself.

“Not really.” He shrugs. “There’s more to sex than.. just that, after all.” He suggests, and you look at him, before your eyes can’t help but travel a bit, unsure. Of course he’d be more experienced than you- he’s got a lot more time to have been fooling around after all, and you’re not at all upset at that-

You’re just a bit.. pressured now. What if he thinks you’re boring if he realizes that your past sexual experiences have been.. standard at best?

“don’t feel like you have to.” He makes sure to tell you, and you nod.

“I do want to.” You confess, and even thought you can’t look at him, he still thinks it’s a huge step for you to even reveal this. “I just.. it’s like the Christmas situation, you know?” You shrug. “I want to do so much but, I also worry I might be overwhelming, or that I screw things up and then you got excited for nothing-“

“Hey.” He chuckles, holding your face in his hands again, pecking your lips. “let’s agree that we will probably not get everything right all the time.” He tells you. “we’ll both screw up. I’ll do something that going to make you upset, you’ll do something that’ll make me upset. That’s called living together.” He laughs. “But I’m convinced that we’ll figure it out.”

“Why?” You ask, looking at him- surprised to see his eyes swimming with emotions, not used to seeing him so vulnerable.

“Because I want to believe.” He answers, voice barely anything above a whisper.

And it makes you realize that it’s not just you who got attached. He’s obviously just as invested in you as you are in him, and maybe, just maybe, you’ve never really thought about that. About his worries, what he might fear, what he struggles with. For you, he’s always been that person who has full control over everything.

But can you control who you fall in love with?

“Then..” you adjust your position a little, before you start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll believe in it, too.”

The kiss you’re offering is gentle, it’s a promise given, and also something more than that. You’re giving yourself to him with this, trusting him to both care for you- but also accepting his trust to handle him with just as much care. You feel sorry for not understanding his situation sooner, but you do now- and it makes a lot of things look a lot less scary.

Living together means making mistakes. And loving each other means working through those mistakes.

You’re moved by his hands to sit on his thigh instead, hips moving over the muscles beneath his pants, while your hands have undone his shirt by now, causing him to shiver a bit, both from the cool touch of your fingers, but also from the gentle manner in which you treat him.

He feels valued. Cherished.

Loved.

The moment your hand undoes his belt to gain access to what’s beneath, his kisses grow more heated, needy almost, his own hands guiding your hips over his leg. But he needs more, moves your legs again to straddle him once more, one of his hands easily slipping into your underwear to find you more than just a little affected.

There’s frustration in him. A need.

He really needs to start carrying a condom around for situations like this.

And it’s obvious this stress is shared by you, if the expression you have and the way you shamelessly run into his fingers are anything to go by. But it’ll have to do, he doesn’t want to risk things, and considering that he’ll spend Christmas with you anyways, it’s not like this is the last time he’ll ever see you.

And he can’t deny that your hands make him feel good enough already.

Mostly because it’s yours that touch him- the emotional connection you both have established at this point making him feel even more sensitive to every form of affection you offer. He feels comfortable and frankly safe enough to let himself fall into your arms freely- trusting you enough that you’ll catch him, just as much as he’d always catch you.

Your hands aren’t even on him- his underwear still between your fingers and his very obvious election, and yet he’s sure he could cum from this alone. You’re clearly chasing your own high as well by now, head leaned on his shoulder, soft whines beneath your heavy breaths causing him to twitch in your hands.

It's when two fingers slip inside you that you become restless, hands on him moving with more urgency as he plays your body like an instrument he’s been professionally trained in. Thumb flicking over your sensitive bud, slick making an almost obscene sound, but it oddly adds to the intimacy of it all.

This is your moment. No one can take this from you.

Your hands stutter a bit in their movements as you reach your peak, but you push though nonetheless to push him over the edge as well- a very particular movement as your fingers trace his outline making him spill, seed staining the fabric of his underwear a darker shade of its grey color.

It's quiet as you catch your breaths, his hand lazily wiping itself on your cotton shorts.

“You want to come to my place for tonight?” He whispers, slowly calming down again.

“Cause you need to change?” You tease, and he chuckles.

“That too.” He admits. “but mostly because I don’t want to sleep without you tonight.” He tells you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “we could.. uhm. You know, the stores are still open.” He mumbles a bit more hesitant now, as you open your eyes to look at him. “if you.. want to help decorate the house with me.” He tells you almost incoherently.

Just for you to grin brightly, giggling happily into the crook of his neck.

“I’d love to.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook smut #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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shanastoryteller · 1 month

Note

ROSES ARE RED, AND THIS IS BEDONKS CAN I PRETTY PLEASE HAVE SOME PERCY AND TONKS 🌹💖

“What’s going on with Percy?”

Kingsley looks ups from his paperwork to find Amelia looming over him. Not exactly a common occurrence, since he’s well over a foot taller than her. “Brooks?”

“Merlin, don’t speak to me about Percy Brooks,” she says, pulling a face. She’s the one who brought him up! “Weasley.”

He blinks several times, rolling through Arthur’s children until he lands on the appropriate redhead. A bit uptight, considering his parentage, but Molly can fret with the best of them up until she gets fed up and settles matters with her wand. “I could get Tonks in here, if you want.”

“Do they know each other?” she asks in interest. “They were in different houses, and a couple years apart.”

How does she know that? He knew that, but it was against his will. “Tonks is dating him. Or trying? I’m not totally clear on the specifics despite her best efforts.”

He hadn’t anticipated how much work it would take for him to dodge a trainee determined to complain to him about her love life. It speaks well of her future in the field, at least. Or poorly of his own abilities, but he’s fairly confident in those, so he’s comfortable giving her the credit here.

“Great, a harassment case waiting to happen for our department,” she says dryly.

He rolls his eyes. “The only person he’s complaining about it to is Tonks. Who takes it as encouragement. Which, considering the cause and effect, it very well might be.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Amelia says. “What’s what this kid?”

Kingsley is lost again. “Can you get a little more specific?”

“Crouch’s department has become efficient, and dare I saw, effective over the last couple months. It’s certainly got nothing to do to with Crouch, since he’s been useless for nearly a decade. The only thing that’s changed is Percy. Who attends every meeting, claiming Crouch sent him to take notes, and then memos and policy get signed and sent out of Crouch’s office when I know for a fact Crouch is too busy harassing me to do his damn job.”

He tries to avoid the obvious answer because it’s the most ridiculous. “You think it’s him?”

“Who else?” she returns.

Well. “Do you… want me to arrest him?”

“What good would that do?” she demands. “The department is operating smoothly for once. I want to know what his deal is. Is he loyal to Crouch? Plotting against us? Just really passionate about bottom thickness?”

Not according to Tonks.

Uhg.

If he was alone, he’d bang his head on his desk until he’s unable to remember what Tonks’s voice sounded like and then maybe he’d know peace.

“Everyone’s got to start somewhere,” he says. “You’re noticing. Maybe that’s what he’s after.”

“I’m noticing because I notice everything. He’s taking significant steps to ensure people don’t notice. How’s he supposed to get promoted that way? Or transferred?” She shakes her head. “He’s doing it for a reason. Do me a favor and find out.”

Why can’t she ask him something simple, like hiding a body or burying evidence?

Now he has to spend his lunch break listening to Tonks talk about her not-boyfriend.

#hii!#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #lance-with-a-chance-of-anxiety #harry potter #siat #last valentines day prompt!!#DAYS before the end of the month too!!#which is so good for me

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angelisverba · 9 months

Text

bug

in which harry is spider-man, and y/n happens to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time

word count: 4k~

pairing: spiderman!h and y/n

warnings: sexual assault. danger. angst. kissing. grinding. kinda mask kink?

author's note: i know i said i was gonna work on florist... but let's be honest, when have i ever done what i said i was going to do? he just grabbed me by the throat okay? i'm sorry.

Harry… he’s not like everyone else.

He does things he doesn’t always enjoy doing, but he does them because he has to. Because if he doesn’t, then who will? These aren’t things he can hide, and he’s judged for them. Not everyone likes what he does.

But it’s fine. It’s part of the job.

Being Spider-Man isn’t easy.

The moment he was aware of what he could do, Harry accepted his fate of fighting crime, defending those that couldn’t with superhuman abilities which came from the bite of a radioactive spider at the lab he interned for.

He felt so alone, so alienated under the harsh newspaper headlines that labeled him a demon, a criminal, a havoc, that sometimes he wondered what separated him from the bad guys he caught so violently with. It was a struggle to keep in mind his end goal: keep his city safe. To fight for good. To protect.

Some nights, like tonight, he was so numbed by the repetitive nature of his days, the brutal fighting over and over again that seems to never end, that as he stooped on the ledge of a tall building, he wanted so carelessly to damn it all to hell. Why him? Why, why, why?

Harry was tired, having not slept more than eight hours in the past week, and he the strain on his senses is noticeable. Every sound makes his breath catch in anticipation, any movement agitating his hyperfocused irises. He felt like a thread pulled tight. So tight, he was beginning to fray, to snapping. Normally, the suit he wears goes unnoticed. But tonight? He felt it on every inch of his skin. Harry wanted to rip it off.

He’s playing with the fabric, snapping it against his skin, when he hears it.

“No, please. I don’t have any money, please stop touching me, I’m begging you.”

The voice was female. Sweet and innocent, but filled with fear. It didn’t sound right. He swung off in the direction of the yelps before he even knew what he was doing, why he was doing what he was doing.

“Oh, we know that,” a man laughed and there was a rustle telltale of struggle. He was a drunk, Harry knew by the phlegm in his tone, “you’ve got something much better than money.”

He was getting closer by the second, could almost feel his webs sticking to the girl’s assailant. All the fatigue from earlier melted off him as he entered the necessary headspace to fight someone.

“Stop it! Stop! You’re hurting me!” The mystery girl was crying now, panic taking full control of her voice.

“Quit moving, girl!” Harry could tell by the increased scuffling that her attacker was getting frustrated, his movements more aggressive.

He was a blue of red and blue as he swung into the alley where a large bearded man had cornered and was pawing a young girl. He saw flashes of skin and clothing, and didn’t hesitate to kick the man off her.

“She told you to stop,” he chastised. The webs shot out of his wrist at their own accord, wrapping around the man’s ankles and wrists and clamping over his mouth. He was on the floor now, thrashing and trying to regain some sort of balance, but Harry knew he had fully incapacitated him.

The dim light leaking in from the flickering street lamp sprayed on the girl as she crouched in the corner, shivering with wide, wet eyes, and Harry’s heart broke.

“It’s all right now, sweetheart,” he said softly so he wouldn’t scare her anymore than she already was. He knew what the media thought of him.

She flinched at the sound of his voice, so he tried again, “I’m not going to hurt you-“

A loud grunt interrupted him, and a prickly feeling of irritation ran down his spine and jerked him into action. Harry picked the man up by the collar, grumbled out a shut up, motherfucker and knocked him out cold with a punch.

“Sorry about that,” he huffed once the man slumped down silently, “did he hurt you?”

The girl tilted her wobbly chin up, and it felt as though he had fallen from the tallest building in the city and smacked down on the ground back first, all the breath from his body vanished. She shook her head and shivered again, sniffling.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked, whispering. Hoping that the smile hiding underneath his mask was audible.

“Y/n,” she peeped, side-eyeing him like she was testing him, “and yours?”

He chuckled, the sound low in his throat, “you know my name.” It wasn’t a question, but y/ nodded anyway. He thought the name was cute, fitting. He thought she was cute even in her disheveled state. Hair a flurry around her, her eyes rimmed with red and her cheeks pink from the chill of night. “Say it.”

It came out like a prayer from her lips, and he’s sure that he wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his superhuman hearing. A thrill ran though him, his body tensing as if preparing to fight “Spider-man.”

“That’s right,” his nod was a mere chin dip. He cocked his head, crouched low so they were at an even height. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“Good. How ‘bout I take you home? Spider-style.” He sprung up and held out his hand, waiting, hoping, for her to take it.

She was tender in his palm, soft. Wrapping his hand around hers securely, he helped her to her feet and slung a web towards the bags she had dropped in the midst of her fighting. She tried to pull back, but Harry held her still and shook his head.

“This won’t work if we’re not touching, you that right?”

He watched as the realization set in, her eyes widening and her pouty lips parting.

“We’re-?” She gestured loosely at him and the buildings, and he chuffed. Yeah, she was cute.

“Yes. We are. Unless you want to walk?”

“No.”

“Good. Come closer. Closer,” she steps timidly forward until her mary janes are touching the tips of his booted feet. “I’m going to grab you now,” he warned.

“Okay-“ looping an arm around her waist, he clutched her close. She was cold, smaller than him. Y/n was shaking, her heart beating fast. He could tell that she was still running high on adrenaline, and that it would only spike further.

“Where do you live?”

She rattled an address he recognized as one of the semi-safer parts of the city.

“Ready?”

He doesn’t wait for the full yes to leave her mouth, and together they leave the ground. They swung between buildings, Harry reveling in the way she held on to him and squealed in his ear. It felt a lot like sharing, and when she laughed, he felt a little less lonely for the first time since all this happened.

When they land on her fire escape, he tries not to think about how erotic it feels to have her slide down the front of his body, or how her palms glide down his chest. Or how her breath hitches when he involuntary leans forwards.

Instead he holds on tight to her goodbye, letting her sweetly mumbled “night, spidey” lull him to sleep when he gets home.

And that was the first time they met.

****

The next time, it’s burglars.

It’s two guys in ski masks throwing bricks through the glass window of a romance bookstore, and a shrill scream that halts everything to a stop and sends him leaping down and swinging from light poles to get to the shop. The sun isn’t even all the way down yet.

And Harry knows she’s there. His sense doesn’t pick up on people, but he knows because a funny feeling kicks it’s way through his gut and his heart beats a little faster.

These guys have empty backpacks and thick jackets, heavy duty boots. Briefly, it occurs to Harry that out of all the places to rob, this is the most stupid.

But it doesn’t matter how stupid the crime is, because it’s still dangerous, and she’s still in danger.

From his vantage point behind the guys that didn’t even hear him land, he can see that y/n has taken a place behind the register and is on the phone- with the cops most likely. There aren’t any customers inside because- as the signs on the door says- they had just closed. So it’s just her.

Harry waits for them to actually trespass (another crime to keep them behind bars) before actually doing anything. He shoots a web at one of the guys feet and another at his hands quickly, silently. The first, now on the floor, is yelling so that his partner, deeper in the store, gets a warning.

“Fucking get the girl, Sly!” He shouts.

Sly, the other guy in the store, takes one look over his shoulder and does as he was told. He jumps at y/n, and suddenly there’s a gun in his hand.

Suddenly, Harry can’t breathe because it’s pressed against y/n’s temple. She’s in a chokehold at his chest, clawing at a meaty bicep and choking back tears of fear.

“Now, Sly,” he held his hands out in front of him and slowly walked forward. “There’s no need for all this. Let the girl go.”

“Shut up! Shut up! I need to think,” Sly’s eyes were wide beneath his mask. He’s frazzled and huffy and Harry’s so scared he’s going to act irrationally. His senses are peaked, eyes tracking every minuscule movement in search of an opening. Y/n is trying to make eye contact with him (or at least as much as she can through the mask) to gain some kind of reassurance, and it’s crushing him that he can’t look at her.

Sly fucks up, using the gun to scratch his head while thinking, and Harry steps in, webbing his hand to the nearest fixture in a move that knocks the weapon out of his hand. The other however, is still around y/n, so he’s running forward to snatch her away while he’s busy glancing at his hand.

Once she’s safely deposited on the side somewhere- and he doesn’t miss the way her hands follow him as he falls away, as if mourning the loss of his touch- Harry eagerly pummels the guy.

“Fuck you and you’re thinking,” he grits out, clocking him once, twice, and three times before he’s unconscious on the floor.

His chest is heaving, his fist flexing out from its clench. Turning and stepping over the body, he asks, “Are you alright, y/n?”

“You remembered my name,” she said. She stood up, walking towards him as he did the same. They’re chest to chest, and she lifts a hand. Trying to touch him.

But he can’t bear it. Can’t bear her touching him because he knows it’ll break him. So he catches the and holds it mid-air. Tries to appease her by combing her hair back with his free hand, and it works.

“‘Course I did, sweetheart,” he’s taken by the way she leans into his touch, nuzzling his hand like a puppy. In a trance almost, one that’s broken by the distant screech of cops. “I have to go.”

He lets her go, and- “Spider-man, wait!”

But he couldn’t wait, the sirens were just around the corner.

****

The third time it’s by accident, and she doesn’t even know it’s him.

The brush shoulders at a coffee shop, and the distinct smell of her perfume making turn around, like those cartoons with the pie, to watch her walk down the street through the window. Harry is mesmerized by the swing of her hips and is surprised by his Victorian fascination over the swish of her skirt against her ankles. Teasing. She has a tote bag slung on her shoulders, and a book in one hand while the other brings her iced tea to her lips. His eyes lock on her tongue swiping up a droplet of her drink, and his teeth clench. He can’t do this. Not with her. He can’t lust after her. She’s too sweet.

He frowns and shakes his head because she’s reading while walking, and in the city that’s just begging for an accident.

He glances down at the title.

And then he goes to buy it at the bookstore she works at.

****

So it’s the fourth time now. Not even two days after he saw her at the coffee shop. And again, she doesn’t know it’s him.

He understands why she got hired at the pink romance store. He’s walking around like a creep, an isle over as she makes her way through the customers, asking if they need help and recommending her favorites (all of which he memorizes) or whatever might fit their inquiries. Her voice sweeter than all the times he had previously heard it. She has a very interesting way of talking about sex in books, very innocent. And suddenly, Harry realizes she isn’t.

He finds the book she was walking around with the other day, and is flipping through it when she stumbles upon him.

“Oh!” she stutters, skirting to a stop and glancing down at what’s in his hands. He keeps his gaze locked in her face, notices the way her skin flushes when she notices what he’s holding, and how she struggles to maintain eye contact with him as she says, “that one is- it’s uh- really good.”

Just to fuck with her, he tucks the novel under his arm and cocks a hip against the shelf. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep.” She rolls her lips in her mouth and flicks her eyes over to the shelf next to him, then back to the book under his arm and her face turns red.

Harry attempts to hide his smirk, and fails. “Got any other ones you liked as much as this one?”

Nodding, “A few.”

“Great, I’ll take them.”

She rings him up, bright red, and stutters her way through a conversation about what it’s like to work here, if it’s safe, if the rumor about the robbery was true.

And he’s so, so pleased, when she said, “spider-man took care of me,” with the dreamiest smile dawning on her angelic face.

****

The fifth time he can’t stop thinking about her.

He’s incredibly surprised at her explicit choice of reading material.

Two out of the three novels explore mask kinks.

Who do they both know wears a mask?

Him.

In the novel she was so caught up in she couldn’t even put it down as she was walking down the street, the female heroine is rescued my a masked vigilante whom she later has very kinky sex with. Mask included.

And… well, Harry just can’t but think that it’s such a coincidence that she picks up this book after their interaction. That she’s so consumed by it she can’t leave it alone, not even while she’s walking, and then she blushes at the mere mention of his name. Could it possibly be that… she was thinking of him?

No.

No it couldn’t be.

She was too… too sweet to be reading this absolutely filthy things. Too pretty.

He’s confused, and maybe that’s why he finds himself pacing the roof of the building across from her in the dead of night, staring at her fire escape like a total weirdo. The newspapers would have a field day with what he was doing, and y/n would run for the hills screaming if she knew what he was thinking about.

Flashes of all the indecent things he wanted to do to her ran through his mind like a torture montage. His head between her thighs with only the bottom half of his mask pulled up. Kissing her while she’s completely naked, sitting in his lap while he’s still totally dressed in his suit.

He wanted to-

There was a flicker of light at the window he knew was hers, and everything in him stilled. He watched like a peeping tom as y/n opened her window and crawled onto the fire escape. She was in a flimsy pair of shimmery shorts and a t-shirt that just barely grazed her belly button.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, and from his vantage point he could see the peaks of her nipples poking against the fabric, taunting him.

Harry groaned, low in his throat.

And then she looked at him.

Eyes wide, lips parted, her hands clenching and unclenching against her thighs that were pressed together and-

A breeze swept through in his direction, and carried the scent of arousal.

Her arousal.

She mouthed hi.

And then he was on her fire escape, standing right in front of her. His body was tense, ready to spring into action. Silently, he crouched at the opposite end of her, the space between them small on the rickety fixture.

“Spider-man,” she whispered, as if testing the waters. There was an eagerness in her tone, and Harry had an idea of why that was. He felt it too, hard in his cock.

“Hello, y/n,” he rasped.

“What are you doing here?”

“You know. You know why I’m here.” He tilted his head and beckoned her, “come. Sit.” Harry pointed at his thighs, and sluggishly, y/n got up and straddled him. He could feel her thighs quivering around him, weak from nerves or lack of balance, so he placed his hands on her hips and guided her so their centers aligned, and they were looking right at each other’s face.

“I don’t understand,” her lips were pouty, shiny under the mooonlight. He wanted to bite them until they were swollen.

“Don’t lie,” he pinched her thigh in punishment and then soothed it with a soft caress. “Lift up my mask.”

Her shaking hands crept up his chest, feeling, and he groaned, absently thrusting up into her. She gasped, but her hands continued to move, wrapping delicately around his throat in search of the seam. When she found it, she pulled the mask up, but stopped so it rested at the bridge of his nose. Just as he knew she would.

Chilly fingers skittered on the line of his jaw, over his lips. Her eyes dazed, memorizing, “What’s going on?”

“Will you do as I say, y/n?”

“Yes.”

Their mouths came together in a rush, wet and lacking any order. Like they were picking back up in the middle of a make-out session. She tasted like mint, cool and fresh and dulcet. Her tongue was timid, submissive to his, but equally as curious. His teeth grazed her lips, and she purred. Her core felt molten hot even through his suit, and he knew without even having to touch her that she was so wet for him.

Harry pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, their chests heaving as they greedily suck in air, “take what you want from me. I’ll give it to you. But don’t ask questions. And don’t take off my mask. Understand, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Now sit,” to emphasize, he pushes her down on his thick cock and rubs her back and forth, “in my lap and grind your sweet little pussy on me until you come.”

Y/n flushes at his vulgarity, and leans back in to kiss him, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she begins to move just how he showed her. The weight of her pussy on him engulfed him, and as she dragged up against him, slowing down and pausing at the head of his dick and swiveling so he could feel her clit, stars exploded behind his clenched eyes. Y/n was already whimpering, hot mouthfuls of air puffing into his mouth so it was clear she wasn’t breathing right. He pulls back and dips his head so he’s able to kiss down her throat and to her chest, bringing his mouth to the plushy mouth of her tits.

“That’s it,” he praises against her nipple, “that’s it, sweet girl, you’re almost there.”

Her moans fill the air, increasing and climbing until she shatters and Harry fucks up against her like it’s the real thing. A wet spot darkens the front of her panties, and he’s sticky inside his suit. They’re both spent, heaving as they clutch each other on the fire escape.

Y/n nuzzles against him, “will you come back?”

“I’ll try, sweetheart,” he whispers kissing her forehead and standing with her in his arms so he can place her safely back inside.

He doesn’t follow, doesn’t cross the threshold.

Because if he does, their night won’t end just yet.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x yn

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 1 year

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This is my modern/roommate au for them 💁‍♀️ I had a lot of fun coming up with the paragraph part :)

East Blue Crew Modern Au

Grand Line Crew Modern Au

Friends We Made Along The Way

Friends We Made Along The Way Part 2

Please excuse any typo’s my drawing program’s spelling check isn't the best 🙃

Some additional head-canons:

Even though they have an apartment they live and pay rent in, none of them are ever home, much. Luffy’s sleeping over his friends’ houses after hanging out with them, Ace is pretending he’s homeless, and Sabo sleeps at the hospital most of the time. sometimes two of them will be home at the same time, but its almost never all at once on any given day.

Even though they are never home, one day of the week is sacred. The day that no matter what they come home and spend the day together. Thursday. Laundry day

Luffy odd odd jobs done in the past include: possum wrangling, “get my friend out of that tree please, he’s drunk and i don’t want to call the cops”, PC setup (he didnt know anything about it, but somehow he got it all right. Somehow.), performing at a party, assisting in a lab, impromptu chore-boy, and many more.

Nami takes care of Luffy’s Odd job finances and makes sure he gets paid the proper amount. He lets her take a cut, and even though she does indeed want that money, she unfortunately knows Luffy needs that money more than she, so she doesn’t take it. The amount of self restraint she exhibits astounds even she. She is truly a saint (according to her).

The only laws that Luffy knows are 1) his friend (self proclaimed) Law and 2) the Miranda rights, as he heard them while Sabo was getting arrested that one time.

Luffy thought the Law lecture he went to was supposed to be talking about his friend (self proclaimed) Law. He wanted to support his buddy (self proclaimed), not learn about federal law!

No one has kept track of how many times Sabo has went to jail. whenever he’s asked, he changes the number every time.

Sabo had the absolute worst time getting that big ol’ tattoo across his arm. He cried a couple times through it, although he would never admit it. It was an investment that he was willing to make, however, and he thinks it turned out sick as hell. So does everyone else. Because the tattoo is sick as hell.

Ace watch shenanigans:

“hey ace, what time is it” “One sec,” he checks his watch “uhhhh 10 at night” (Its clearly the middle of the day) “Thanks, man”

Dadan calls to check in on them every Thursday night. She pretends she doesn't care about them, but the reality is not looking good for her.

Sabo has been a childhood friend to Luffy and Ace and has slept over the house they lived in with Dadan many times, but he didnt actually come to officially live with them until he was finally kicked out of his parent’s house when he was 16. Dadan has always been more of a mother to him than his biological one ever was and he treasures her even though he says he doesn’t. Actions often speak louder than words, as the two are literal besties despite both verbally expressing their disdain for the other more than praise. Sabo is clearly her favorite of the three brothers and she's the most lenient with him (which is something they all exploit).

Luffy and Ace come to live with Dadan in the au the same way they live there in canon, their fathers are not present in their lives and Garp dropped them both off at her doorstep and expected to take them in.

That’s all I got for now. These guys are fun and I love them very much :)

#my art #one piece #asl brothers #one piece fan art #flame emperor sabo #op sabo #sabo headcanons #monkey d. luffy #sabo #luffy headcanons #ace headcanons #ace fanart #op modern au #portgas d. ace #luffy #luffy’s hair is fun to draw in this version #asl aus #asl au

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mhsdatgo · 5 months

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Always hated the way according to TB I'm supposed, as a woman, to root for Rhaenyra "Mary Sue" Targaryen because she's a Valyrian woman and can't do no wrong. Otherwise I'm framed as a misogynist, an enabler, a rape apologist, every name in the book. As if this isn't the same girl who coerced her bodyguard because her erectile disfunction uncle didn't wanna bang her after leaving her in a brothel, naked and on plain sight for any kind of perverted brute. As if this isn't the same girl who weaponized both her and her best friend's trauma to twist a truth about something she very willingly did that could've had her disowned if her father was anyone else other than the weak ass neglectful rapist pedo father she had instead.

This is the same girl who ignored and mistreated Alicent when all she did was convince Viserys to allow her privileges she never had, like choosing a husband. Like it or not, it was Alicent the one who gave gave and gave, and Rhaenyra the one who took took and took and even MOCKED, time and time again. The same girl who acted like a victim when the girl she called her literal best friend (only when it benefitted her) was getting maritally R*PED in the next room by her crusty ass father. She never tried connecting with her siblings because they were Alicent's children. Not because their minds were poisoned, not because they were apparently bitter towards her. Because they weren't her mother's children. Same as Viserys. Guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.

I'm supposed to root for a woman who doesn't do one single thing for the claim she feels so entitled to (who was purely based on Viserys' grief and guilt for Aemma)? I'm supposed to root for a woman who brings back to the line of succession the same man everyone wanted far from the line of succession? I'm supposed to root for the woman who wants to be the exception, not give possibilities to other women like an ACTUAL feminist does? She usurps her stepdaughters' claims in favor of her obviously bastard children, and no, betrothing the fpur of them isn't the same. If they die, the girls' claim dies with them, and guess what, exactly that happened.

No, I will not root for the woman who wanted a teenager's head because she was black and because she couldn't cope with the fact that "hEr pRiNcE" didn't love her, only what her title could offer. Or the woman who put a price on a 6yo's and a 2yo's head simply because they were her brother's children, thereby proving what Criston said about what was needed for Jace to raise to power after his mother. She even denied the request of multiple older daughters/sisters who rightfully wanted to lead their houses, with the excuse that the relam would be far too 'imbalanced'. Girl, are you that dense? There's the smallfolk getting eaten and burned and taxes by your dragon and your entire family fighting wars and dying left and right and you think two women ruling their houses will destabilize the realm?

Rhaenyra is many things, but feminist is not among them, no matter how much you cry and whine about it. Yes, I'm aware that no woman in asoiaf or f&b can be described as feminist. But the convinction (and delusion) that Rhaenyra is, without a shadow of doubt, is mindblowing. She's arguably worse than any of said women combined.

No, I don't feel represented or uplifted by a tyrant, classist, racist, hypocritical, spoiled kinslayer with god complex because she's albino and has a pet dragon as spoiled and as useless as her. Sorry not sorry.

#team green #anti team black #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti rhaenyra stans #anti team black stans #anti daemon targaryen #anti anyone from team black except maybe for joffrey #no I'm not counting the Velaryons'#because they ain't Rhaenyra's emotional support #cry about it #and anti Hotd writers cause...#fr? good and bad? on asoiaf?#pro team green #pro alicent hightower

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respectthepetty · 6 months

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Waiting for a Choice?

Nobody talks with Day. All of the interviewees talk about him but none of them actually speak to him. Mork was the first one to go back-and-forth with Day by asking him questions, and Mork looks at Day too. When he entered the room, his comments are at Day. Before that, everyone treated Day like a ghost merely haunting the room.

And even though this game of 21-questions is horrible, Mork says the silent part loudly.

Because to Mork, this is all about choices. He believes his sister chose her fate and abandoned him in the end. To him, he had no choice in the matter. She decided their futures for both of them. Even though she is dead, he has spent an entire year not living.

Day's family does this too. Night tells Day they are at the Society when they are already there. It's an afterthought to tell Day where they are going, and he doesn't ask Day if he wants to go in either. It is "where will you wait?" Where will you wait while everyone else goes about their lives? Will you wait here or there? Those are his options. To wait. He is allowed to wait while everyone else lives, but he can't participate.

This is a place for the Blind, yet Day can't go in, and when he does, the receptionist pities him, and his brother gets upset.

By all means, this place should be THE place for Day with its "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've always wanted" inspirational word vomit, yet all the people stare at him.

Then, on the way home, Day's mother tells Night to speak to Day about the documents even though Day is sitting right there hearing the entire conversation.

Being a caregiver to a family member is extremely difficult. Mostly if animosity already exists.

And even though it's an English translation, the use of "have" is the subtle shift in a family relationship to a caregiver dynamic. A brother has to take care of his younger sibling. A brother now has to rely on his older sibling. Regardless if Night wants to help, he has to. Regardless if Day wants Night's help, he has to take it. They don't have a choice.

When Day exits his car, a point he made to Night, Night hesitates to go after him because they are in the middle of traffic and in the middle of a fight. Yet Mork runs into traffic to get Day, and for the first time in the episode, Day gets asked questions: "Are you okay?" and "Where are you going?"

It hasn't mattered if Day is okay up until now. It hasn't mattered where Day is going because he has to go where he is told. He doesn't have a choice. According to everyone else, he is a living ghost. He has been stuck for a year regardless of what he wants, so even when he gets home, his mother asks him one question without waiting for a response before immediately asking Night what happened.

So Day returns the small gesture of conversation to Mork by asking another living ghost if he has anywhere else to be.

Which jump starts their second game of 21-questions.

Because neither is telling the other what to do. Similar to their first conversation, it's a shit show, but they are both engaged in this shit show. They are not being told to participate. They are not being told what to do. They are being asked questions and they can decide to answer or not. They get to choose. And they chose each other.

Which leads to the mom finally asking Day a question.

Mork is going to be crap at taking care of Day at first, but Day doesn't need someone to take care of him. He needs someone to see him. Day isn't a ghost of his past. He isn't haunting his own story. And he isn't okay. He is unhappy because he has nowhere to go and nothing to look forward to . . . according to the people with lives. He is waiting.

So the guy who is also stuck with ghosts from his past haunting him simply asking questions is enough of a reminder that they are both very much alive, so they must make a choice to actually live.

Which is why Mork asking Day, not his mother or brother, but Day when he starts is very important.

Because these two are stuck in the present with pasts that haunt them. But now they have a future of endless choices.

They just have to ask the right questions.

No, not that!

Much better.

#last twilight #last twilight the series #waiting games #21-questions #it's about having a conversation #day x mork #it's about choice

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ellionwrites · 5 months

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If Geto and Gojo were so close, why didn't Geto try to convince Gojo to defect with him?

Because Geto knew that Gojo’s support would guarantee his success, but that success would come at the cost of hurting Gojo.

I believe that Geto cared more about protecting Gojo than he cared about building a better world.

Let me explain…

First, let’s talk about why it would’ve made sense for Geto to ask Gojo to join him:

(1) Gojo would’ve been Geto’s most important / most powerful ally

By the time of Geto’s defection, Gojo is already the strongest sorcerer in existence. He and Geto are two of only three special grade sorcerers. Having them both on the same side is essentially an automatic win.

(2) Gojo should’ve been (relatively) easy to persuade

Gojo had already told Geto that he didn't like having to save the weak and didn't care about the moral justifications for it…

…Geto has also seen that Gojo doesn’t always value / protect human life. He was ready to massacre the Time Vessel Association without reason, but ultimately he didn't, because he deferred to Geto's judgement…

…and, most importantly, they are best friends on a DEEP, unparalleled level. Geto is Gojo’s “one and only” best friend.

If Geto was truly dedicated to changing the world order, Gojo should’ve been the first and most important person that he tried to recruit to his insurgency / cult / mission.

BUT

Not only does Geto make zero effort to reach out to / recruit Gojo, he actively avoids him and pushes him away...

- - - - - Keep reading cut - - - - -

After he kills the 112 non-sorcerers, Geto runs into Shoko in Shinjuku. He happily approaches her and willingly answers her questions.

Look at his smiling face in their interactions:

But, when Shoko calls Gojo, Geto leaves before Gojo shows up. Gojo tracks him down anyway and demands an explanation. Geto still doesn’t want to talk about it (“You already heard it.”)

It's strange, right? Geto loves talking about his vision of a better world with everyone else.

Then, there is this confusing progression of dialog:

Geto is hurt/annoyed that Gojo doesn’t believe in him, so he points out that Gojo’s argument against his plan is invalid. The plan is possible (“You could do it”), therefore (according to Gojo’s own logic) it’s not “pointless.”

In a way, Geto is admitting that he knows it would make the most sense for Gojo to join him.

But before Gojo can respond, Geto pivots to saying something extremely hurtful. He's questioning who Gojo is / would be if he wasn't the strongest. Is there really anything more to him? (See more detail in my post here).

Then, in the very next panel Geto turns and starts walking away.

In summary: (1) Geto avoids Gojo, (2) Geto only argues in favor of his plan when Gojo forces/baits him, (3) Upon invalidating Gojo’s opposition to his plan, Geto immediately puts emotional distance between them, (4) Geto then puts physical distance between them.

Why is Geto trying so hard to make sure that Gojo won’t follow him?

Is he just being prideful about doing this on his own? Is he so angry at Gojo's arrogance that he'd jeopardize the success of his life's mission over it?

These arguments aren't in line with Geto's characterization / known motivations (see the end of this post, if you're interested in more on that.)

Geto's main motivation is (a twisted form of) compassion. He wants to end the suffering of sorcerers.

He is a thoughtful, contemplative person, and would've thought about the ramifications of recruiting Gojo.

What are the ramifications?

If Gojo joins the cause, Geto’s plan would succeed, but Gojo would suffer for it.

Like anyone who joins Geto's cult, Gojo would become a pariah / fugitive from Jujutsu society. He’d kill people. He’d kill other sorcerers.

But because Gojo has the singular level of strength/ability to kill non-sorcerers en masse, he would commit the vast majority (or all) of the murder / destruction. The legal, social, and mental impacts would be most severe on Gojo.

(Also, at this point, I think Geto may still question whether he’s made the right choice. It’s difficult to go from a hardline stance on protecting non-sorcerers to wanting to gen0c1de them, within the span of a year, without any lingering ethical qualms. So he may be worried about moral costs to Gojo as well.)

Let’s remember that Geto (canonically) deeply loves Gojo. Gojo is his one and only best friend. Geto worries about Gojo when he overworks himself protecting Riko. Geto is shocked when Toji kills Riko in front of him, but he only flies into a rage when he thinks Toji has killed Gojo. (Again, see my post here for more on how much Geto loves Gojo).

So, it makes sense that Geto is ready to make sacrifices to create a better world, but it’s a cost he’s willing to put on his own head. Not Gojo's.

Ultimately, Geto cares more about Gojo than he cares about achieving the mission he has dedicated his life to.

The last thing Geto says to him is this:

What he's really asking Gojo is: "Have you stopped loving me, now that I've committed myself to this dark path? Would you kill me to save them?"

If Gojo hates Geto enough that he’d kill him, then Geto never had a chance of recruiting Gojo in the first place.

Of course, Gojo can’t make himself hurt Geto. He still loves Geto too much.

Geto protected Gojo by pushing him away.

___

Addendum:

I'll also argue against two other possible explanations for Geto's behavior.

(1) Geto is jealous / prideful /wants to build his own legacy without Gojo stealing the spotlight

Geto has clear motivations for his goals and they’re not egotistical. He wants to end the suffering of sorcerers caused by non-sorcerers’ existence (e.g., Riko’s death, Mimiko & Nanako’s abuse).

Geto’s pride isn’t hurt when Gojo becomes the strongest. The only thing that bothers Geto is that they’re getting sent on separate missions.

After Gojo becomes stronger that him, Geto still has overt affection for Gojo (e.g., he asks Haibara to bring back sweets from his mission so he can share with Gojo).

Although Geto does believe in his superiority over non-sorcerers, he doesn't feel superior over other sorcerers and doesn't struggle with his 'inferiority' to Gojo.

Does Gojo’s lack of faith in Geto’s ability (calling his goal “impossible”), spur Geto to want to prove himself? Yes, probably. But Geto had already been avoiding Gojo before he said that. And I don’t believe that wanting to prove himself to Gojo would overshadow his stronger motivation to build a better world for sorcerers.

(2) He thinks Gojo actually is too moral to join him

After Geto kills the 112 non-sorcerers, Gojo is shocked and upset by what’s happened, but not once does he insult Geto or imply that Geto has done something unforgivable. In fact, he’s practically begging Geto to explain himself because he wants to be able to justify his actions. And, again, Gojo’s argument against Geto’s plan is NOT that “it’s wrong,” it’s that “it’s impossible.”

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