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moonchildstyles · 2 months

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sin

y/n is an angel and harry is a demon whos taught her how much fun it can be to sin

wordcount: 7.8k+

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The first time (Y/N) floated down from the clouds, she had no idea what a Pocket was, let alone where to find one. That time felt so long ago with the way she could now navigate herself to her favorite Pocket without a second thought. The route had become one of familiarity, guiding butterflies flitting through her stomach the closer she made it with every step.

Slipping out of sight of the main street, she counted thirteen paces down the quiet alleyway before finding the brick that needed just the right touch before it would show off the hidden doorway she needed. The brick was grainy and rough under her palm, her skin catching on the mortar as she pushed against it until it finally gave away underneath. Just like that, the seemingly solid wall opened up, revealing an entryway for her eyes only.

(Y/N) felt giddy as she stepped inside, the doorway vanishing behind her when she crossed the threshold. She knew it was secure once more when there was a breeze that skated over her skin and fluffed through her wings, seemingly sealing her away from the rest of the world. In a way, it was, but there was still a waiting invitation to the one other person who knew about this Pocket—the one that had shown her the way in the first place.

Getting comfortable while she waited, (Y/N) was happy to see the place was untouched from her last visit. When she had first seen this Pocket, it was the closest thing she had ever seen to an interdimensional "bachelor pad". There hadn't been much of anything to see that first time, only the bones of someone’s presence though they were too busy to return much. She remembered it had felt stale as if it had been abandoned for years despite the unmade bed in the corner with messy sheets and tufted comforter.

Harry had told her it was a place he barely used—it was one of the first Pockets he conjured on his own, and he'd since honed the craft into bringing something more extravagant to life. He still visited just to keep the curse fresh, but he otherwise only stayed there if it was necessary and no other options were available.

His last resort had since become their hideaway. Special for just the two of them; another secret for them to share with one another.

It had come a long way from when she had first visited with Harry on her tail, leaving behind the less than ideal bed set up, and vacant walls. (Y/N) had used all of her inspiration from seeing countless humans decorate their homes, turning the dreary Pocket into a cozy getaway. Heaven didn't necessarily allow for a lot of individualism when it came to living spaces, seeing as how everything was ordained to be pristine and creamy. Here, (Y/N) got to use as much color as she wanted—as long as it didn't spur any headaches for Harry, anyway.

Now, there was an actual bed frame holding up a cushy mattress, the pillows feather soft and always cool to the touch. The bedding was a warm orangey color, playing off of the greens and pinks throughout the space. There were pictures—canvases full of paint Harry said he "found" through his travels—pinned to the walls, playing into the bright hues (Y/N) was toying with. A rug now sat in the middle of the room in the shape of a paint blob in a creamy green shade that made her think of Harry's eyes. The kitchen—though near unnecessary given their statuses—was given the same treatment as the rest of the studio-sized space. There were magnets covering the unused fridge, appliances and bowls of always fresh fruit sitting on the counter. A bouquet of flowers that never died were sitting on the bedside table, perfuming the air with a light fragrance that drew her in. Her favorite part was the mirror by the bed, ornate and carved with cherubs.

Walking in felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as she loved being an angel—guiding humans in need, taking care of those who needed her touch, changing lives for the better—being here in this Pocket was the one thing she could see herself loving more.

It would be a little bit better if she wasn't alone, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, fluffy wings tucked against her back, she fixed her eyes on the doorless portal, waiting for the telltale creek and scrape of concrete that would signal Harry's arrival. This was the bad part of being chronically early, she thought, never being sure when the other would show up and keep her from being lonely.

Lucky for her, it was only another handful of minutes before her ears picked up on the familiar sound of footsteps trailing over the pavement. Her breath caught when they stopped just outside where the Pocket's door was, a smile unfurling on her features when that first creek sounded through the room. She rose to her feet just in time to see the first uniform crack in the wall before the rest of the doorway came to be.

Slipping inside, Harry didn't wait for the portal to shut behind him before he was crossing the room to meet her.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his grin toothy and completely with dimples, "Sorry I took so long."

Wrapping his arms around her, (Y/N) melted into his embrace. His hands settled just below her fluffy wings, holding her close while she rested her cheek on his chest.

"It's okay," she murmured, eyes fluttering to a close as she soaked in his warmth, "I'm happy you're here."

Harry's response came in the form of a small kiss being dropped on the top of her head, the contact decidedly delicate as opposed to his nature. He'd told her before that she was the only one that could draw that side of him out—the docile side that had no alignment with chaos or sabotage. This side of him was just for her, he'd shared.

Shifting his hands on her, his fingertips brushing her wings with a shudder shooting down (Y/N)'s spine, Harry repositioned until he had his hands cradling her cheeks as he tipped her head up to face him. His dark eyes shimmered green, taking in each of her features as if it were the first time again.

"I've missed you," he crooned, "So much, darling. What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?"

Despite there being no way for anyone, mortal or otherwise to overhear them, every word he spoke to her was uttered like a secret. Just for her.

"I missed you," she smiled, unlooping her own arms to settle with her hands on his chest, "But, I've been okay. Just doing angel stuff."

His lips quirked into a lopsided curve, his thumb brushing along the height of her cheekbone. "Always angel stuff with you. No breaks."

"No breaks," she played along as if she wasn't currently in the middle of a break with him right now, where not even her creator could spot her if she tried, "What about you?"

"Just the opposite of angel stuff," he teased, managing to bring a smile to her face despite knowing the reality of his joke. He had a certain way of putting it, describing his job, that made it not sound so bad when it came to (Y/N)'s sensibilities. (Truthfully, it could be because she just liked his voice. He could make anything sound heavenly).

"Fun?" she smiled, letting him walk her back towards the bed.

"Always," he hummed, escorting her backwards until her legs hit the edge.

Tumbling back, a bubbling laugh left (Y/N)'s lips as she clung to Harry. He fell atop her, her thighs splitting to settle him between. Underneath, the mattress conformed to the shape of her wings, Harry's hands pressing into the planes of her back as if she wasn't close enough as is.

Before the world had a chance to settle around her, Harry tipped his chin and pressed his lips to hers. Though she didn't have much to compare it to, (Y/N) had little doubt that there could ever be a better kisser out there than Harry. Her point was proven every time he sealed his mouth to hers, her top lip cradled between his two.

This was never going to get old, she knew. Not with the bubbling that ignited under her skin at the contact, the way there was nothing more she wanted than to cling to him and bask in his warmth. With every angling and tipping of their heads, movements made in tandem, she was drawn deeper and deeper in everything that was him. Tucked underneath him like this, mouth coming together and parting with soft breaths between, it was hard to think that the universe had crafted them to be enemies.

Tracing his mouth down from hers, dotting a line over her jaw, Harry murmured in her ear, "I don't have much time, darling."

"No?" she asked, a pout evident in just the single syllable, "Why not?"

Harry drew back only to give her an apologetic smile. "Opposite of angel stuff, remember?"

"Since when does that have a schedule?" She sounded petulant even to her own ears, but if there was one sin she was willing to commit, it was greed when it came to Harry.

"Since I told Sarah I would meet up with her soon," Harry offered the challenge with a raised brow. Sarah wasn't like the others of his kind, she was more stubborn and would actually go looking for him if he stood her up, if only to wreak havoc for him personally as revenge.

"To do not-angel stuff that I'll have to clean up later?" she pressed, feeling her attitude leak away now that she knew her time was limited with him.

His smile was brilliant at her words, wide with bracketing dimples. "Of course. That's why we work so well, darling."

It was that kind of language, the sweet one that made even demon activities sound silly, that had her splitting into a smile before tipping her chin in hopes of coaxing him into a kiss. It didn't take much convincing for Harry's lips to press into hers, resuming the lingering kissing he'd interrupted before.

On her back, Harry shifted his hands until he grazed the stem of her wings. The second his fingertips glanced against the base of one fluffy, tightly packed feather, a shudder wormed down her spine. Her breathing stuttered in her chest, a furrow pinching at her brow. From the way he had to keep from smiling against her mouth, she knew he was aware of the effect of his touch—undoubtedly intentional.

It was the easiest way to get her riled up, and that was exactly what he needed for their time limit.

Just as he'd surely hoped, there was a change in the pacing of their kissing. (Y/N) leaned into his touch, anticipating another lingering touch against her wings. Her hands slid over his chest, fingers denting the blocky muscles that made up his body, landing on the shelf of his shoulders. Her fingertips hooked into the solid muscle, clinging to him.

Her heartbeat stutters behind her ribs when she felt his hands shifting on her back. This time, he dared to run his fingers through the feathers, the structure underneath down was grazed by his warm touch. An involuntary moan slipped from her mouth and into his.

Instead of something smug crossing his features, Harry only kissed her harder. His mouth was hot, taking in her sudden pants from his touch.

"Harry?" she murmured, breathless against his mouth. He didn't bother drawing away from her as he hummed, the pillows of his lips dragging over hers. "Do we have enough time?"

This finally had his lips quirking. He nodded his head gently, the tip of his nose grazing her own. "I'll make time."

When she felt his hands drift away from her wings, she wanted to complain. She wanted to whine enough for him to know she didn't like that he was moving on, but that need was quieted when she felt his palm settle on the plush of her thigh. His touch was heavy and warm, denting into the soft skin while the other hooked around her waist in a cradle.

In one fluid motion, he had her on her back with her mouth dropped open in a gasp. Instinctively, she had tightened her grip on him, her legs wrapping around his waist during the roll. By the time Harry was underneath her, her surprise had morphed into laughter, her chest pressed to his as she slumped into him.

"You scared me," she bubbled, shifting in his lap with her knees bracketing his hips.

"Sorry, darling," he murmured with a soft smile, the pitch of his pupils blown wide as he took her in.

Steadying her, he settled his hand on her hips as she planted her hands on his chest to prop herself up above him. She could feel her wings fluff out behind her, no longer confined against the mattress. Harry's eyes followed the span of her feathers, the stretch reaching just slightly wider than her shoulders. He'd told her more than once how cute he thought her wings were—he'd never seen any quite as fluffy as hers, especially compared to his own.

He looked up at her with reverence in his gaze, something adoring and smothering dancing in his irises as he watched her from below. She felt warm under his eyes, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt to keep herself from preening like a dove under his attention.

His adoring gaze translated into his soft hands trailing over the curve of her form, his palms warming the ladder of his ribs with his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Even through her dress, his touch elicited a round of gooseflesh to prickle her skin. Her breath lagged in her lungs.

Though time hadn't ever felt like much for (Y/N), seeing as she was immortal, Harry had made her impatient. It'd been a handful of days since the last time they had snuck off to their Pocket, but those days had felt like years to her body without his touch.

The trail of his gaze almost felt tangible, warm and heavy, the longer he watched her.

"What?" she asked, feeling breathless when he ran his thumbs against the swells of her chest.

He didn't bother to pull his eyes from where they lingered on her body, especially liking the way her thighs were split around his hips under the hem of her dress. "Nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head against the pillows cushioned underneath, "Jus' haven't had y'on top in a while. I like it."

She had thought before that greed was the only sin he could inspire in her, but lust was quickly overtaking the top spot. He was right; she didn't usually get a chance to look at him like this. While she loved lying underneath him, at his mercy while he drove himself home between her legs, there was something to be said about the perspective she gained while sitting astride his lap like this.

His hair laid in soft waves against the linen of this pillows, curling towards his face as if a frame for a portrait. His lashes were long and dark, framing his eyes and drawing his prey in at a glance. There was a spray of freckles glancing off the bridge of his nose, faint against the cream of his skin. Though his eyes were dark, there were shatters of green that could be seen if one were close enough to spot the hues. His body was made of strong lines and angles, his jaw, much of the same despite the soft skin of his lips and the gentle way he admired her.

He was the perfect demon—the perfect temptation. If not for the fact she knew what was hidden away, she would have argued he was an angel like her.

"I like it, too," she told him, breathless, "I like it when you look at me like that."

"Yeah?" he prodded, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he finally matched her gaze. His hands on her sides drifted down until he met the hem of her dress, taking the delicate material between his fingers. "Can I see more of you then, darling? Promise I'll keep looking at you like this."

Biting back her smile, she drew her hands away from his chest to grab for the hem of her dress. Moving his own hands back, he watched as she pulled her dress over her head, wings tucked against her back with the material drifting over her feathers. The familiar butterflies that came with revealing her body in a way she had never anticipated she would in her angel life flittered through her stomach. Their fluorescent wings flew high enough to glance over the chambers of her heart, feeling just as real as the warmth of his eyes draping over her newly exposed skin. Between Harry's legs, she felt a ridge thicken, pressing into her core with every drawing breath she pulled into her lungs.

Throwing her dress to the floor, her form was left with only a dainty pair of underwear sitting on her hips and a matching bra barely covering her breasts.

Harry's dark eyes seemingly left behind the slight hue of green, instead revealing only pitch black irises that blended seamlessly into his pupils. If any more of his control slipped, the whole of his eyes would match the inky darkness—a sight (Y/N) used to fear that now had her blood pumping.

He couldn't help himself before he had his hands on her once more. His touch was adoring, lingering and warm.

"Y'planned for this didn't you?" he mused, raising a brow when he met her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked, canting her head with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

"You know," he drawled, his hips shifting underneath her own with a cursory roll, "I thought y'were an angel, and here y'are dressing in lingerie to seduce a demon. How'd y'even get into heaven, hm?"

The way he spoke to her was thrilling in a way that could rival his touch; he made her feel dirty, questioning how someone like the girl in his lap could have snuck into heaven, while touching and looking at her with reverence she could only keen under.

"I thought you liked it when I did this," she countered, her lips tugging into a faux-frown.

"Oh, I do, darling. Can't you tell?"

With that, the slow roll he'd given with his hips morphed into a strong buck against her hips. The ridge she'd felt before was now a bulge, heavy and pushing. Her wings fluttered recalling the last time he had stuffed himself inside her, her legs thrown over his shoulders and tears in her eyes.

The memory had her shifting her hips against his, rolling her core over the bulge she felt in his lap. Harry's breath hitched just as a petite moan hummed from her chest. His hands on her waist tightened, fingertips denting the soft flesh.

"Do that again for me, darling," Harry murmured, his voice a low rumble as if it were a secret only to be shared with her, "Put on a pretty show for me."

Planting her hands on his abdomen, feeling the blocks of muscle underneath his shirt, she steadied herself on him as she began rolling her hips against his once more. The rough texture of his jeans could be felt through her thin panties, both his thickening cock and the seaming of his pants pressing into her clit. Her knees planted on either side of his hips were digging into the mattress, spreading that much wider the more she rocked against him to sink herself onto him that much more. Her wings fluttered behind her, her feathers fanning in a short fluff at her back.

Under her hands, Harry's stomach was tense, muscles densely bunched together. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with hooded eyes, his gaze feeling just as heavy and tangible as his hands on her waist. The sight had her grinding her hips that much harder against his cock, a shiver thrilling up her spine until a breathless moan fell from her lips.

"I could watch you all day, darling," Harry mused, his voice rumbling under her hands as much as it reached her ears, "But, we don't have that kind of time, do we?"

"No," she answered automatically, a whine to her voice as she shook her head. She didn't really feel like thinking about how quickly their time would be cut short.

His hands on her waist slid down until he reached her hips, his grip solidifying until he had her stopped in her tracks. Her fingers curled in the material of his shirt, her bottom lip sinking under the weight of her teeth.

"Get me out, darling."

Maybe it was the deep rumble of his voice, or the steadfast contact of his eyes with hers, but (Y/N) could have melted in that moment. Her lungs squeezed with her heart rattling behind her ribs. It was only when a smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth that she realized she had lingered too long admiring him.

Unfurling her hands from his top, she fumbled at the waist of his pants. Every shifting of her hips against his lap had her in a daze, making it that much harder to concentrate on following his instructions—something he was well aware of with the way he had his own pelvis rocking upwards as if he didn't know what he was doing.

Pulling down his jeans enough to expose his black briefs, (Y/N) could have breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to hook her fingers in the waist of his underwear. A spray of goosebumps touched at his skin, his cock visibly jumping when she reached for his cock.

His skin was heated, shaft thick with his head leaking by the time she had her fist wrapped around him. Shoving his briefs down enough to pull him out, (Y/N) had her attention stolen and pinned to his cock. The head was leaking and red, a pearl of precum glossing from his slit. She instinctively wrapped her hadn't around his shaft, feeling the ridge of his head under her palm and the pumping of the vining vein wrapped around. A heavy breath shuddered through his chest at the touch. (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off of him, lusty adrenaline sparking through her system at the thought that he was in this state because of her.

"You're so cute, darling," Harry said, breathless as he drew her out of her head.

"Huh?" she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his ruddy cock and the shallow pumps she made around his shaft.

If he'd had an answer at the ready, he'd cut himself off as he sank into the mattress with a sigh. The pristine pillow compressed under his head when he threw it back in the preludes of ecstasy.

"Jus' you," he murmured, recovering with his eyes only opening to a slit, "'S always like the first time with, isn't it? Y'always look at me like you've never seen me before—'s cute."

She felt shy all of a sudden, as if she didn't have his cock in her hand. Her wings tucked to her shoulder blades, cocooning her together as if they could shrink and hide her.

"I like you," she told him, "That's all."

"Yeah?" he pressed smugly, his cheeks beginning to flush as (Y/N) just laid her hand on him without offering the relief of her fist, "Jus' like me?"

A bashful tug had her lips curling into a small smile. "I love you."

"That's what I thought."

With that, one of his hands on her waist abandoned post only to land on the back of her neck. His palm was a cuff around the warm skin as he curled upwards and tugged her down in the same sweep. His lips met hers in a warm press, his tongue snaking out with the tip dragging along the full of her bottom lip. She didn't have to think before she was opening up for him, running her own tongue across his to get a taste.

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to get a taste of his pleasure, a moan spilling from his throat and settling on her tongue. Her hand around his cock tightened, the grip snug and clinging. The longer he played with her, his hand tight on the back of her neck as if in fear she would pull away before he was ready, the seat of her panties grew that much more wet. Her toes curled in the bedding at his sides, her free hand pawing at his chest in the lone need to feel him.

Drawing away just enough to speak, (Y/N)'s lips brushed against his own as she whispered, "I-I want to see you, Harry."

"'M here, darling," he answered her simply before attempting to dive back in for more.

"No," she practically pouted, puckering her lips for one more kiss before pleading again, "No, I want more—it's not fair if I'm the only one without my clothes on"

She could feel him smile into her mouth, his hand offering an affectionate squeeze to the back of her neck before he pulled away.

"When have I ever been fair, darling?" he prodded, giving her a raised brow as if he wasn't going to give into each and every single one of her demands.

"You are with me," she countered with a cant to her head.

Something softened in his expression then, as if she didn't have her hand wrapped around his cock. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"

Peeling his shirt off, the material becoming a black puddle on the bed behind her to reveal the tan skin and inked marks covering his musculature.

(Y/N) had heard time and time again throughout her existence how demons could never be trusted, that they were a creation that an angel like her shouldn't taint themselves by even breathing next to. She had been told they were slimy skinned, rows of teeth stuffed in their mouths, with eyes that could pull you straight to hell if you looked into them long enough.

Looking at Harry the way he was now beneath her, she could see why her ancestors would craft such tales; if she had known there were creatures out there that looked the way Harry did, she would have tried to find him the first time she floated from the clouds.

She couldn't help the way her hands drifted up his chest. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, dancing over the butterfly inked on his stomach and he birds up high by his collarbones. There was a flight layer of goosebumps that rose in her wake.

A breathy laugh that fell from his lips brought her attention back to the surface, pulling her gaze to flick up and match his. Amusement floated in his irises, a slight smile on his raspberry lips.

"You're cute," he told her simply.

"I'm not trying to be cute," she answered, a stubborn set to her jaw.

That only seemed to amuse him more, a dimple now denting his cheek as his smile grew. "Right," he drawled, "As much as I love letting y'touch all over me, I don't think we have enough time left for y'to have too much fun."

The reminder was enough to have her mouth fixing into a pout. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Oh, yeah," she answered sullenly, stilling her hands on his shoulders with her body leant over his.

"I know," he said, craning his neck to press a small kiss to the corner of her mouth in a lingerie draw, "Next time we're here, we'll spend all night together. I promise."

A dreamy sigh fanned from her lungs at the thought, her eyes falling closed. It'd been a while since they had been able to spend a whole night in the Pocket together—the last time had left her in love and flying wonky the next day.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he pressed, "Sound good, darling?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, "I want that now."

"I know y'do," he murmured, "You'll jus' have to settle for me fucking y'fast, then."

He said it like it was a punishment, as if her heart wasn't in her throat with adrenaline when he flipped her over once more. She was flat on her back, wings cushioned against the mattress when he sunk in between her spread thighs once more. Now, she could feel the weight of the muscles she had grazed her hands over, the width of his form she had been grinding against.

The movement had stolen her breath, leaving her chest heaving as he looked down at her. The intensity was back once more, keeping his irises dark as he glazed his eyes over each and every line of her body. He lingered on the line of her bra, surely pinpointing where her rattling heart was scheduled by her ribs.

"What do y'need from me, darling?" Harry mumbled, the blunt of his nails grazing the soft skin of her stomach as he dragged his hands towards the waist of her panties.

Speaking through her shudder, she shook her head, "No-Nothing—I want you."

Harry looked entirely too smug, the curl on his lips one she recognized even as far back as the first time they met. Back then, she couldn't stand the sight—unsure of how a demon could be proud of anything they did. Now, it was one of her favorite things, knowing she had made him feel proud of himself (at least she liked to think of it that way).

"Y'can have me, darling," he assured her, one of his hands dripping from the waist of her underwear and down between her legs, "But, are y'wet enough for me, or do y'need some help?"

His thumb grazed her clit, her body jumping at the slight touch. She could feel her insides pulsing, grasping for something that wasn't there yet.

"I-I don't need help," she stuttered, pushing her hips against his hand in impatience, "Harry, please. I don't want you to leave before we're done."

A pinch appeared between his brows then as he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her underwear, pulling the material to the side. "I would never leave y'like that, you know that. I'll always take care of m'angel."

As if to prove his point, she watched as he fisted his cock and ran the head along her folds. The air had been seemingly sucked out of the room at that moment, leaving her with a shuddering breath leaving her lungs and eyes fighting to close. She could feel his heavy gaze watching her as he nudged his cock against her pulsing opening, a small tease before he pulled back to slide through her folds once more.

"Y'sure you're ready for me?" he teased, drawing out his words for just a second longer of the torture.

"Harry, please," she told him, sounding a bit pathetic to her own ears though there was no guilt in the act. "I need you."

He loved it when she pleaded with him like that. On longer nights, he would have pressed for more, taken any and every bit of begging she could offer, but she was sure the time limit was in the back of his mind when he didn't continue teasing.

With a fluid push of his hips, he sunk in between her hips. (Y/N)'s lips fell open at the stretch, a moan getting stuck in her throat to leave nothing more than a heavy puff of air falling from her mouth. Harry's gaze was concentrated on where they were connected, his length disappearing inside her. His hand stretching back her panties let go when he bottomed out, his base pressing into her budding clit.

His chest was heaving when he finally looked up at her once more. She could see the boundary of his irises beginning to waver, the black bleeding into the sclera. He was losing control in the most thrilling sense, the idea causing her walls to pulse around his splitting length.

"'S been too long, darling," he told her, voice a low rumble.

"Uh-huh," she sounded, giving a pathetic nod of her head with her hands fisting the bedding at her sides. She wanted so badly to reach for him, feel his skin under her palms, but feared flying away if she let go before she had her head on straight.

"Never gonna wait this long again, 'kay?" Rearing back his hips, he grunted when he pushed through her channel once more.

A puff of air left (Y/N)'s lungs once his hips pressed against hers in a slap, as if he had knocked it right out of her. Settling his hands on the bones of her hips, his thumbs stretched up towards the curve of her waist in a gentle sweeping that opposed the strength of his grip. He held her steady as he curated a fluid pace, knocking the breath out of her each time he sank inside her.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in puffs every time she felt his tip nudge deep inside her, her body being pushed further and further into the mattress. Without his hands on her body keeping her place, she would have hit her head on the headboard by now, she figured, the thought being one that would have made her laugh if not for the fact that she was in the middle of something.

"You're so tight," he gritted out, his voice deep and rumbling through his chest, "Thought y'said y'were ready for me."

"I am, I am," she rushed out, pausing when he gave her a particularly punishing thrust, "I-Its been too long, re-rememeber?"

His hands squeezed her hips that much more at her words. "I know, darling. Gonna have to make this one last then. Can't stretch y'out every time we fuck, can we?"

Mindlessly, she shook her head, willing to agree with any and everything he was saying at the moment. She wouldn't mind him taking the time to stretch her out every time he pulled her to bed, but now wasn't the time to get greedy—she already had his cock rearranging her organs, there wasn't much more she could pine for, was there?

Except for maybe touching him herself.

Not wanting to distract him from his job, (Y/N) unfurled her fingers from the sheets at her sides, reaching towards the thick of his arms. Her fingernails sunk into the skin, leaving small moon shapes that would no doubt still be pink by the time he was having to slip out and meet his friend. She liked the idea, her fingers clenching that much more, that a part of her would remain with him even when they couldn't be together.

Harry was seemingly spurred on by the touch, hips knocking into hers in heady strokes. She was going to have bruises tomorrow, but she didn't care. Her mouth dropped open, small uh's leaving her parted lips in time with every push of his hips.

"Harry, I-I," she started, her voice catching in her throat before she could say much more.

"'M right here, darling, 's alright," he attempted to soothe her though his voice was strained and breathy with every thrust he sunk inside her.

Her mouth was dry by the time she found her voice again, her eyes fluttering to a close. "I—Can—I want to touch—"

That was all she managed to get out before a bubbling moan fell from her lips when he dared to grind against her once bottoming out. Through her taut underwear, he pressed against her clit, her body jumping at the touch.

"But you are touching me," he drawled, bringing her back down as he pulled his hips back.

She knew he was only trying to goad her, get her stubborn and petulant in the way that always made him laugh, but she didn't care. It was going to work, but she would leave her scolding for later.

"You know what I mean, Harry" she argued, peeling her eyes open to find him looking at her with that smug smile as if he wasn't exerting all of his energy into stealing her breath away. "You're being so mean to me!"

"I'm being mean to you?" he repeated, the rhythm of his hips slowing just a hair when he brought the intensity of his gaze to match hers. "You really think that right now, darling?"

"Yes, I do," she whined, now upset by the fact he was slowing down and not letting her touch him. She wrapped her legs around his hips from where he was knelt between her thighs in hopes of spurring him on, feeling the ridge of his length pressing through.

One of his hands on her hips slid up her body, skating over her tummy and between her breasts until he landed on her neck. His palm laid flat on her collarbones with his fingers wrapping around her throat, a slight pressure. His hips worked in shallow thrusts, barely pulling his length out before he was pushing in once more.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, a slight pressure closing in on the side of her throat as he squeezed that much more, "If this isn't enough for you, I can show y'how mean I can really be."

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out as she gazed up at him, her heart stuttering in her chest. Time seemingly stood still in that moment, every detail melting away to leave only Harry in focus.

"Oh my god," she murmured, her voice squeaking through her throat.

A slow smile tugged up the corner of Harry's lips. "No god, darling. Jus' me."

(Y/N) couldn't help but to buck her hips against his, urging him for more. She could feel her walls fluttering around him, her wings at her back struggling against the mattress with their own restless energy begging to fluff out.

Harry kept his hand as an anchoring weight on her throat as he dropped back into the rhythm of his hips, tightening in pulsing squeezes just long enough to have her eyes rolling to the back of her head before lightening up once more. His own control—despite the facade he was offering to (Y/N)—began to waver that much more. His eyes were almost completely black, the inky veins snaking out to envelope the sclera with every punishing thrust. The moment (Y/N) was back on Earth, peeling her eyes open enough, she swore she saw glimpses of his glamor fading, revealing the large black wings shrouding his back.

He was close, that much she was sure of.

"A-are you going to cum?" she asked, voice rumbling under his hand.

Shaking his head, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. "Not until you, darling. Angels first."

"But, I can see your wings."

His breathing came in pants. "I know, but you're still finishing first, darling."

Taking his hand off her neck, the ghost of his warmth left behind, Harry wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her off the bed. Repositioning himself, he knelt on the mattress as he dragged her into his lap. His cock was snug inside her when she settled over his thighs, feeling just that much deeper with the new angle.

Wasting no time, he had his hands stationed on her hips once more, setting a pace for her to bounce on his cock.

"Think y'can fuck yourself like this, darling? Do all the hard work for me?" he murmured, dragging his lips over the same parts of her neck where he had choked her moments before.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she answered, a mindless reflex as he concentrated on matching his grip.

Using the leverage of her knees on either side of him, she lifted herself off his cock, allowing his head to stretch through her pulsing walls, before sitting herself back down in a smack of her skin against his. It was a relief to put her hands on him, feeling every inch she could reach. Her palms skimmed over the broad of his shoulders, planes of his back, and the thick of his arms all with her nails following closely behind.

Harry did much of the same, trailing up the curve of her spine until he found the base of her wings. (Y/N) couldn't help but to keen into his touch, back arching through it took everything in her to keep from getting distracted and keep riding him like he had asked.

The first graze of his fingers over her feathers was enough to get her stomach tightening, and mouth dropping into a moan. She could feel him smiling against her neck, too proud over her reaction.

"Always so cute, even when y'don't mean to be, you know that?" he murmured, dotting a kiss just below her ear, "All I've got to do is touch your feathers, and you're done for."

She wanted to say something, tell him that it wasn't that easy, but there was nothing that would escape her lips other than puffs of heavy breath and whining moans.

Rocking his hips up to meet hers, that much more pleasure settled in her stomach. As much as she wanted to argue with him that she wasn't that easy to make cum, there was some truth behind the fact that she was flying towards the finish line with every brush of his fingers and rock of his hips.

"I can feel y'squeezing me, darling," he murmured, dragging his mouth over the line of her jaw in a lingering kiss, "Y'gonna cum for me? Did I finally work hard enough for you?"

Despite the fact he'd asked her a question, there was no way he had been expecting an answer with the way he wiggled his fingertips through the brush of her feathers and coasted along the bony structure underneath. He knew she wouldn't be able to survive that, a long moan choking out from her throat with her stomach too tight to bear.

(Y/N) tried to keep her pacing as best she could—something she couldn't believe Harry was able to do all the time—, but the rhythm was undoubtedly interrupted as she came around him. She could feel every inch of him as her insides pulsed around him, taking in the ridge of his head and the length that had split her open in the first place. His base was pressed heavily against her clit, rivaling the pressure of his fingers dancing through her feathers.

She wanted to be present but the heavens called to her then, the Pocket left behind for a few lingering moments. By the time she was floating back down to Earth, Harry's hands settling on her hips as he lifted her off his cock, the sight before her was enough to get her back to square one, wishing they more time.

Harry's eyes were now completely pitch black, no more white sclera or shatters of green to be seen. His glamour had faded away, leaving the leather stretch of his wings visible, the span much larger than her own as they fanned out around them. The webbing cocooned around them, creating a curtain around her body as if there wasn't enough of him touching her already.

His cock shone in the low light between them, her slick coating him as he fisted the length. It only took a few passes of his hand before his cum blurted out in thick ropes across her stomach.

"Fuck—(Y/N)—I—" Nothing of coherence fell from his lips then, every bit of concentration laid to rest as he watched himself cum on an angel.

A furrow had his brows pinched together, his eyes hooded and dark. His mouth was stagnant in a gape once he stopped trying to speak.

It wasn't until the remaining spurts of his cum rolled down his shaft and his ruddy head was seemingly beginning to stain purple that he pulled his shaky hands away. Using his wings as well as his hands, he hugged (Y/N) to his chest with his softening cock between them. Even with the mess that was beginning to dry on her stomach, he held her tight, pressing hard kisses to her temple and side of her face until he met her lips.

"Y'okay?" he panted to her, the tip of his nose nudging against her own.

"I'm okay," she murmured, wrapping her own arms around his neck.

"Happy?" he asked, just the same as he always did in these quiet moments after the storm.

A small smile stretched over her lips. "Happy."

Gently laying her backwards, Harry kept himself glued to her, wings and all, as they settled among the sheets. Despite the fact he had no discernible pupil, she could feel his gaze traveling over her features and taking her in as he always did. She felt bashful under his eyes, her own wings shyly tucking into her back.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, sweeping a few stray hairs from her face.

"Nothing, just... You."

"Just me?" he countered, reaching blindly for his discarded shirt he'd tossed earlier.

"Just you," she repeated with a breathy laugh, allowing him to wipe his mess away with his shirt. (How he had the courage to clean her up with it knowing that he'd have to wear it out to meet his friend later, she wasn't sure). "How long can you stay?"

Harry's features took on a somber set at her words, just the same as she felt. "Not long, darling. Jus' long enough to make sure y'get to sleep, then I'll have to leave."

"What if I don't fall asleep?"

The smile he gave her told her that he was very familiar with the game she was beginning to play with him.

"Guess I'll have to stay."

Despite the black eyes and leathery bat wings sprouting from his back, the sweet smile and boyish dimples in Harry's cheeks could rival that of any angel in (Y/N)'s opinion.

That was why they worked, she thought as she snuggled closer to him: she brought out the angel in him and he showed her just how fun sinning could be.

—————

ahhhh I guess this is my little contribution to the valentines day vibe this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas send them in!! I also have more writing available on my patreon if you want more :)

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #demon harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #demon harry styles #harry styles x reader #pleasing #harrys house #fine line #as it was #Harry styles smut #Harry smut

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craisinsensation1029 · 2 months

Text

Place Hands Here

Suguru Geto

originally posted on AO3! :) this was sugu's birthday fic :3

fem reader, established relationship, vaginal sex, some dry humping, choking (geto), riding, referenced cannabis use

3.5k

MDNI

“Thank you, baby,” Geto says with so much fondness in his voice as he rests his hand on your thigh and gives it an ample squeeze. The size of his hands never fails to amaze you, palms splaying and engulfing the thickness of your thighs with no issue; veins on his hands serving as a roadmap to the most handsome face you’ve ever seen.

It’s been a little over a year since you started dating, but his velvety voice still warms your chest nearly every time he speaks. It provides the same comfort as a blanket knitted with ounces and ounces of love; every stitch curated to provide your brain with a rush of dopamine. Gentle, yet every bit commanding and domineering. He can make a king hand over their throne to him with just a few words without even trying, you’re pretty sure.

“I had a great time,” he adds on, pressing a soft kiss to the temple of your forehead.

“You better have.” Resting your hand over his, your thumb brushes against the skin on the top of his palm. His skin is always smoother than yours, soft and supple like clouds floating through the bluest of skies. Every gentle graze of yours still manages to send a jolt down his spine. “Or else I would have cried.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” His soft chuckle fills the space in the back of the Uber you two are in.

City lights illuminate the night as a comfortable silence falls over the two of you, soft patter of rain against the window mixed with the crooning of Radiohead filling the space. A sigh of content leaves your lips as your head rests on his shoulders, heavy from all the events of the day.

It’s been a great day—a long, but great day.

Time wanes, only about an hour remaining in the momentous day that is Geto’s birthday.

He’s a simple man, never asking for much and always appreciating what is given to him. It’s one of the things you love about him, but it also drives you up a wall. He knows this, always teasing you that there’s no reason to stress yourself out regarding his general satisfaction with however the day is celebrated. With you, anything is ideal.

Even if that means telling you again and again that there’s no need to worry about things being perfect when you’re already by his side. Still, his heart thumps knowing every little thing you do is with his joy in mind.

Like starting the day with a perfectly rolled joint and taking him to one of his favorite diners for breakfast. Large appetites fueled by cannabis were quelled with what he considered to be the best pancakes he’s ever tasted. Saccharine from the syrup giving him a needed rush as you whooshed him off to the next destination for the day.

Serenity seeped into his bones as the masseuse worked all of the knots out of his back. Just a few feet away you also laid face down on a massage table, every kink rolled and flattened out. In the space between the table your fingers were intertwined, yours squeezing his just a little bit harder when the masseuse hit a particularly rough spot.

Celebrating another lap around the sun was always an occasion for indulgence. Another joint was shared, both of your consciousnesses melting like wax in your bodies as you whisked him away to the next activity.

Empty canvases were soon filled with brilliant pastel hues as paintbrushes made calculated strokes. Geto always seemed to excel at most things, a picturesque sunset that looked like—no, probably looked even better than a postcard replacing the previously white surface. Yours looked more like a toddler having way too much fun using paint for the first time, but of course he paid you a compliment anyway.

A quick lunch stop was followed by a limited rerelease of one of his favorite movies. He’s seen the movie hundreds of times by now, and even in the darkness of the movie theater you can still make out the crinkles by his eyes when he smiles at his favorite parts. It’s the boyish smile that you can never get enough of, the same one that makes your heart race and mind numb.

The day concluded with a free jazz concert in the park, sultry symphonies caressing your ears as you sat on a blanket in the grass cuddled up next to Geto. Yellow fairy lights adorned the tree as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, showering you with his gratitude for making sure he enjoyed every second of the day.

Even as rain started to fall from the sky and shroud you both in a light layer of mist, he was still soaring high, enamored with every bit of effort you put into the day. Every nervous lip bite as you awaited his reaction to the next destination, the smile on your face when he kissed your lips and assured it was more than what he could have ever asked for made his heart swell. He even let out a laugh when you started pouting and apologizing at the shift in the weather, once again kissing away any of your worries.

As the Uber arrives at your shared apartment, he grabs both of your canvases and helps you out of the car. It’s a short walk to the door that you unlock, throwing your purse down on the kitchen island and leaving your shoes by the door. Feet relieved from the black platform boots you wore with a red, pleated miniskirt and long sleeved black cropped top, you let your body sink into the plush, velvet sofa in the living room.

Geto follows your lead, taking off his shoes and sinking into the spot next to you. Finding more comfort in his body than the sofa you straddle him, pressing your chest against his. The soft contours of your body are always so malleable when in proximity to the defined ridges of his; warmth from his body always setting every one of your nerve endings ablaze. Just the simple movement of his hand brushing against your lower back is enough to make you writhe, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

The melding of your bodies is akin to adjacent puzzle pieces, two parts that are meant to be together no matter the circumstances. One hand caresses the side of his face, fingertips dancing across porcelain skin while the other creeps beneath his shirt. His taut muscles ripple beneath your touch, heart starting to beat faster in his chest when you say, “You’re so beautiful, Suguru.”

“I love it when you say that.” It doesn’t matter how many compliments he receives from others when yours are the only ones that makes his cheeks flush. Only your words are capable of making him feel this coveted. “I’m so lucky to be yours.”

“So am I,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. Chalking up your connection to either luck or fate has always been a debate warring in your mind, but in times like this when you’re staring into his smoldering gaze, you guess it really doesn’t matter. Strong arms encapsulate you tenderly, providing the space to be vulnerable without the fear of judgment. An irreplaceable bond that you know you’ll never share with anyone else.

His palms trace up the back of your thighs, traveling higher and higher until he securely has a grasp on both of your cheeks. He loves it when you wear skirts, eyes and hands always greedy to graze and grope at your thighs. His mind is always shameless, wandering to more sensual planes even in the most docile of moments. Instinctively you rock against him, core grinding against the erection growing in his jeans, a breathy pant leaving your lips.

“Bet that feels good,” he murmurs against your lips, thrusting his hips upward in tandem with your grinding. The rocking of your hips only makes his cock strain more in his jeans, the growing bulge only aiding in stoking the flames of your arousal. He groans when your hips start to move faster than his own, giving your ass a harder squeeze. “Shit, feels so good for me too, baby.”

The only thing you can feel is Geto, a thickness against your clothed cunt that’s already drenched through your panties, aching to be filled. With a whine you press your lips against his, simultaneously removing your hand from beneath his shirt to undo the buckle on his belt. Kissing him is like being served your favorite meal over and over again; the familiar taste of his mouth on your tongue never failing to be the most exquisite flavor. No variation is needed when the consistency he provides sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body that makes your back arch and toes curl.

Hands move fast and lips move slow as your bodies chant a desperate plea to stay connected to each other. His tongue swipes along your bottom lip lasciviously as he gives your ass a hard squeeze, fingernails making soft crescent indents in your skin. It’s always a tantalizing kind of pain, one that only makes you moan and open your mouth to invite his tongue inside. Adjusting your heads so your lips are perfectly slotting against each other, your tongues collide as you manage to get the button of his jeans undone.

The hand on his face moves to glide through his silky tresses as his tongue continues to caress yours. It’s give and take, letting your tongue push past his lips, sharing the combined taste of your desire. His eyes close as he revels in the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, scraping and pulling just the way he likes it. All the while your tongues still slide against each other, sinking deeper and deeper into a sea of ecstasy.

As desperate as you are to keep kissing him, to drown in the sea of euphoria that his lips provide, the need to have him stretch you out and fill you up takes precedence. His brow furrows when you abruptly pull your lips away, unsure if he suddenly did something wrong. While he thinks he might have squeezed just a bit too hard, the only problem is your own greed. Without words, you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. It’s muscle memory for his hands to reach out and touch your breasts, but your hands are already at the hem of his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. He easily complies, ridding himself of the material while you raise your hips to shimmy off your skirt and push the waistband of his boxer briefs down.

“Fuck,” he hisses when his cock slaps against his stomach, pearls of precome steadily leaking from the angry, red tip. He throws his head back momentarily, but snaps his attention forward when you grip him at the base. He can’t help but throb in your hand, and you swear he grows just a little bit harder when you squeeze his thick length firmly. He sucks in a breath as your hand begins to stroke him, thumb running over the slit and smearing his precome down the length of his shaft. A hot trail of spit drips from your mouth and onto his cock to ease any friction, providing a smooth motion for your hand to continue working him.

“You’re so big, Sugu,” you coo, and he throbs in your hand again. His back sinks further into the sofa as you continue stroking him, only sounds filling the room are his soft pants and the slick of your hand moving up and down his cock. Another part of him that you’ll never get tired of. Every time his cock twitches in your grasp you can feel your own heat pulsing, and you know there’s only one solution.

Pushing the crotch of your panties aside, you rest one hand on his shoulder for balance as you line your entrance up with his cock. “Easy, baby,” he advises, moving one hand from your ass to hold his cock steady for you as you sink onto his inches. It’s a tearing sensation every time he enters you, a pressure that always makes you whine as you sink your head into the crook of his neck.

“Always so tight for me,” he hisses as his cocks sinks deeper into your heat, stretching out your walls in the most delicious way. Your hands wrap around his neck, breaths become shallow as you adjust to his girth inside of you. His hand returns to your cheek once he’s fully seated inside you, tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot. “Fuck, your pussy was just made for me, you know that?” he breathes, cock already pulsating inside you. “Perfect fucking pussy, and it’s all mine.”

Despite the trembling of your legs, your breathing returns to normal as your hips roll forward. Your tongue darts out, licking a lewd stripe against his neck, the salty and sweet taste of his skin on your tongue further fueling the motion of your hips. His eyes fall closed as he relishes in your tight warmth hugging his cock, the softness of your skin in the palm of his hands.

“F-fuck.” No stranger to his cock despite the initial shock of him stretching you out each time, your hips develop a steady rhythm, rolling against his pelvis like lazy tides crashing over the shore. Your clit grazes against his abdomen which he flexes with each forward moment. It makes you whine each time, but he doesn’t do anymore than that, letting you set the pace, using his cock as you please because no matter what you do it’ll always feel so fucking good.

Without ceasing your movements, you remove your head from his neck to plant another kiss on his lips. He returns it, sinking his teeth into your bottom lips to match the pressure of his nails sinking into the flesh on your ass.

“Need you to do something for me,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire against your lips as he flexes his abs again.

“What’s that?” you ask with another roll of your hips.

He grabs one of your wrists, moving it from behind his neck to place your hand around the thick column of his neck. Shock paints your face, and all he does is flash you a crooked smile. This is… new.

“Go on,” he insists. “Squeeze.”

“O–Okay.” Hesitantly you do as he asks, giving his neck a squeeze. He looks entirely unimpressed.

“Baby,” he gently warns. “Stop playing with me.”

Hoping the second time will be the charm, you squeeze again. This still isn’t enough to satisfy him. The third time doesn’t seem to be the charm either, despite what everyone seems to believe. He only tsks and shakes his head.

“What am I supp—”

The rest of your sentence vanishes from existence when a strong hand encircles your throat, squeezing with a practiced pressure that gives you more of a head high than the joint you shared with him earlier. It’s nothing more than a reflex when your cunt clenches around his cock, a muffled mewl leaving your lips with the limited air supply he’s left you with.

“You see that?” He directs your gaze down to his lap, in the space where the two of you are connected. The view only makes your walls constrict around him as you whine. It’s a lewd sight, your cunt swallowing his cock whole with traces of your arousal slicking his pelvis. He clenches his teeth and lets out a low groan as he takes in the view himself, letting his thumb slowly circle your clit. “Feel how hard your little pussy is squeezing my cock?” He lazily thrusts his hips upward, making you clamp around him again. “Feel how you’re just sucking me in?”

It’s dizzying, the pressure between your thighs and the one on your clit keeping any real words at bay. All you can do is nod pathetically as he continues his ministrations.

“Good girl.” His grip around your throat loosens, but he doesn't let up on your clit, continuing to trace circles on the bundle of nerves. “That’s how hard I need you to choke me, baby. Now do it right this time before I get mad.”

He releases his grip from your throat completely and throws his head back, an open invitation for your hands.

With more conviction in your actions, your hand circles his throat again and gives a much harder squeeze. His Adam’s apple bobs, a twisted smile slowly spreading across his face as you squeeze again, cock throbbing inside you.

“Haa–ngh,” he moans, a delirious head high taking over. “Just like that baby,” he praises as you apply pressure again, heeding his instructions perfectly. “ Fuck , you’re amazing, so amazing.”

His hands find their resting place on your ass again as he continues to contract his abdomen against your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head while your hands take on their new role of becoming his favorite necklace.

His pulse races rapidly against your hands as they stay tightly wrapped around his throat, and you don’t know if you’ve ever seen his face painted with such bliss. Head thrown back, locks falling behind him as you continue riding him, chasing your orgasm at the same time his is approaching.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t asked you to do this before, but there isn’t a chance he can go without this feeling now. He plants his feet on the floor, thrusting into your heat with dire need, hitting your sweet spot with each upward movement. “S-Sugu,” you moan, legs becoming more useless each time his perfectly curved cock stimulates that spongy spot inside you. Even with failing legs and his cock seemingly trying to drill into your brain until he's the only thing you can coherently think about, your hands continue squeezing his neck.

Harsh sounds of skin slapping against skin echo in the room with each wicked surge of his hips. The pace is no longer up to you as he groans, hands gripping your ass tightly with the same ferocity you have on his neck. “S-Shit. ” He can normally hold it, draw out a session for much longer but gosh, he never expected to be in such a frenzy from such a simple request. “Fuck, baby. Keep squeezing, that’s so good,” he babbles. “Fuck, gonna come so hard in your little pussy, gonna fill her right up.”

“Please,” you whine, clamping down around his cock at his words. This is what he wants, right? You layer your free hand over the one currently on his neck, and the added pressure is enough to make his vision blurry.

It’s absolutely a mouth watering sensation. He can’t help the laugh of joy that escapes him with the little bit of breath that he has, continuing to pound into your heat, drilling against that one spot until your legs are shaking and the only thing you’re able to moan out is his name.

“O-Oh my god, Sugu, ” you cry out, grip around his neck loosening, orgasm like a shaken up soda bottle threatening to burst open at any second.

“Keep squeezing for me, baby,” he grits out, his own impending orgasm only seconds away from rising to the surface. “Gonna come together, just keep squeezing, I’m almost there.”

Tears springing from the corner of your eyes, you nod, arms shaking as you use the last bit of strength in them to give a final, hard squeeze.

Geto explodes, a hot load of his cum decorating your insides as your cunt spasms around him, milking him for everything he’s worth. He hisses, rope after rope spurting inside you making you shiver.

“Hah– fuck,” he chuckles after a few moments of comfortable silence, cock still lodged inside you as your forehead presses against his. One of his hands caresses the sides of your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you, baby.” The words are laced with the utmost care and affection as he presses another chaste kiss to your lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask, squirming in his lap as his cum begins to leak out of you, pooling around his pelvis.

“For just being you,” he answers, his other hand landing on the opposite side of your face. “And for making this one of the best birthdays ever.”

“Even though I didn’t choke you hard enough the first time?” you joke.

“You have all the time in the world to get it right,” he jokes back, but in reality, he doesn’t care.

There really is no wrong when it comes to you. And as the clock moves into the hour of the new day and you settle against his chest, the soft sounds of your breathing replacing previous pants and moans, he knows with certainty there’s no one else he wants to take another lap around the sun with.

#getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ebs writes

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tgcg · 5 months

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listen here on youtube

so first of all thanks for 3,000 followers. holy shit. thats 3000 more than i expected so thanks

i really didnt think this blog would get to this point when i made it. and im never gonna get over how kind and encouraging you guys have been for me. unending respect & gratitude guys.

we're closin in on the end of 2023 now and im resolving to keep doing right by you guys and having fun running this blog with yall 🙂 thanks forever

i wanted to do somethin special for it and i thought id share one of my biggest inspirations for interpretin davekat. which is music i think they'd like. when you routinely blast davekat doodles onto mspaint canvases at 2am you need a backing track and these are common choices for me

3 songs for each dude for 3k fwlrs. man thats crazy...

tracklist + lil commentary under readmore

dave zone

1... 21st century pop song -- hymie's basement

this whole album i associate with dave a lot even tho its very depresse mode. i have way too many plays on this song. that beat is so real.

2... vice principal -- why?

that record scratch bit got me bouncing&trouncing manm. ive been listening to this song since i was a lil shitty kid. this voice is my headcanon voice for dave

3... re-do -- modern baseball

get a load of them lyrics son. passage of time, dinosaurs, trouble sleeping, watching movies, fear of death, love of life. recent fave, big fave.

KARKAT ZONE

4... i see failure -- antarctigo vespucci

another new beat 4 me but damn its an anthem. love dudes who shout. self fulfilling prophecies of relationship failure are peak karkat 2 me

5... the minors -- kawai sprite

i have never played friday night funky. i found this album by pure fuckin chance and its great, if you like this song give it a shot. sounds adult swim-y. i associate a lot of songs from this album with kk its a very distinct sound that i just connect with him fsr. the bittersweet sad anger of it

6... exactly where i'm at -- ween

this is a certified karkat classic 4 me. "look at yourself your lips are like 2 flabs of fat, they go front and back and flappity flappity flap". one of my fave things about ween is they have really vivid lyrics and rlly consistently hit this cool spacey, semi-aquatic vibe. i think this is because of drugs that they are awesome, so lets all do more druggs today

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #playlist #goddamn... take care everyone

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lovinpelova · 3 months

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try it out | j. fleming

summary; if jessie likes your hobbies, you should like hers.

🎵 jackie and wilson - hozier

since you were a little kid you've loved lego, it's just common for children to adore it and want as much as possible until they reach a certain age and decide to throw it out instead of letting it grow dusty on their shelves. you were the opposite to other kids, keeping up with the so-called obsession and spending a fair amount of money on it, hating the idea of making new things yourself and opting to stay with the sets lego would release often. your favourite type of lego set to build was the cars, they were just so cute and didn't take up too much of your day, giving you something to focus on and use to calm down in your free time.

jessie loved your adoration of lego. she found it adorable how you'd get excited when you saw a new set you wanted and bought it almost immediately after a moment of contemplation about the price, the canadian knowing you'd always end up getting it anyways. she'd bought you a new lego set for christmas, a massive white porsche 911 that clearly wouldn't have been cheap due to the size, you complained about the inevitable price but she waved you off with the claim of your smile being worth much more when you saw it and thanked her.

now you were finally getting around to building it and would need help no matter how much you hated to admit it. the bigger sets always got the best of you and you'd either do it wrong or be unable to find a piece you needed, so jessie decided to help out. it was going well so far, sitting comfortably on the living room floor as she'd help you put pieces in place and hand you the odd one you were struggling to find, other than that she would sit and watch in awe as you concentrated more than she'd ever seen- even in training you'd never been this focused.

"since i'm helping you with your hobby, would you wanna try one of mine when we've finished this?"

you looked up momentarily to figure out what she meant before going back to pushing the lego pieces together, finally understanding jessie's question.

"as long as it's not hockey or photography, you know how i am with those two."

"don't worry babe, it's neither of them. i was thinking maybe you'd wanna try painting for the first time?"

jessie handed you a lego piece you were struggling to find for the next step, yourself smiling in thanks and leaning over to kiss her cheek softly as you took it out of her hand.

"yeah, why not? i am pretty bad at painting though, just to warn you."

"you're only bad at painting if you're not fully focused. you'll have me to help out too!"

after another couple hours of piecing together your new lego set you'd finally finished it, looking down in pride alongside jessie as you high-fived to celebrate finally being able to get rid of the hip cramp from how you were sat.

"okay, you go find a place for that whilst i get the stuff for painting yeah?"

"okay baby."

you smiled in response before setting off upstairs and finding your lego shelf, having to move a few things about before you could fit the massive model. looking at it in pride one last time, you set off downstairs to find jessie laying out paints and brushes alongside two canvases next to each other, the canadian opting to sit across from you rather than next to you so you wouldn't get paint on each other.

"oh this is gonna be fun!"

you stated excitedly as jessie grinned at your enthusiasm for her hobby, glad you share an aptitude in exploring each others interests. you sat down across from jessie and picked up a pencil like she did, noticing the small smile she wore once she realised you were copying her in fear of doing anything wrong.

"what are we painting then?"

your question sent jessie deep into thought for a moment as she looked around the room for ideas.

"oh! i've got it. how about we paint what we think the other would be if we were animals but don't tell each other? you know, like a guessing game."

"that's such a cute idea! i'm not sure how i'm gonna draw my animal though."

"just google a picture, you'll be fine baby."

you grabbed your phone and googled 'moose' to remember what they even look like, realising you'd gotten yourself into trouble choosing this animal but it was too late now. you stood your canvas up on the small easel jessie had brought over for you just like she did with her own, making sure she couldn't see when you drew the first couple lines and it immediately went wrong. deciding to commit and feeling it might get better as you draw more, you continued the outline of your moose and it gradually got better, it wasn't the best but it was certainly a lot easier to make out than when you first started a couple minutes ago.

once you'd finished with your outline you grew weary of the painting part, knowing you'd have to get it over and done with otherwise you'd be drawing instead. you grabbed the colours you needed and set them out on a small palette, getting to work on painting the moose and being surprised by how easy it was, deciding to even paint in the background as one that looks like the boreal forest in canada whenever it snowed. jessie was finishing up her painting by now and seemed very proud of it just the same as you, adding a couple finishing touches and putting down her paintbrush a couple minutes before yourself.

"you ready?"

she asked as you stood up in front of your canvases, nodding your head in response. eager to show your work and getting a nod from jessie once she saw your excitement, you turned around your easel and watched her jaw drop in amazement.

"oh my god, baby that's the most beautiful painting i've ever seen. and you think i'm a moose! god i love you so much, you're so good at this!"

"it's mediocre, jess- and of course i think you're a moose! they're all you ever talk about. i need to see what animal i am though, the suspense is killing me."

jessie snapped out of her amazement and grinned down at her painting for a moment before spinning the easel around, showing you a stunning painting of an elephant in the african outback, a beautiful sunset along the background.

"before you take it wrong, i chose an elephant because you're so gentle and caring. you know how nice they can be."

jessie shyly explained as you grinned in appreciation, admiring the painting for a couple more moments before stepping forwards and pulling her into a soft kiss.

"it's almost as beautiful as you jess."

"alright playboy, stop trying to flatter me just so you can get my art for free."

"oh i had to pay hm?"

you teased, jessie nodding her head in response as you smiled at each other and turned towards your paintings.

"of course, artwork like that doesn't come for free. i reckon around three hundred quid."

"i'm selling mine for that amount too, maybe we can swap and call it even?"

"good idea, i want your signature too though."

you quickly grabbed a pencil and signed your painting in a blank area, jessie doing the same with hers as you swapped paintings and shook each others hands.

"pleasure doing business with you."

"but of course."

the brunette laughed with you and leaned forward for a soft kiss, both of you pulling away not long after to clear up all the paints and brushes before looking around the house for a perfect spot. you eventually found one right above your shared bed, the moose being hung up above jessie's side and elephant hung up above yours, like a little inside joke.

#jessie fleming #chelsea wfc #woso x reader #canada wnt #canada womens #woso imagine #chelsea women #jessie fleming x reader #woso community #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fanfic #jessie fleming x you #jessie fleming x y/n #woso #woso fanfics #chelsea wfc x reader #chelsea womens #canada women #canwnt

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steftastan · 10 months

Text

Carian Stroll

“Tell Blaidd, and Iji…I love them.”

Before this piece, I had been wanting for a long time to create my own piece of Elden Ring fanart featuring Ranni. I had tried several sketches unsuccessfully, just wasn’t particularly feeling the ideas I had sketched up until that point.

One day of usual internet scrolling, I stumbled upon this gorgeous piece of art by Shimomura Kanzan.

I knew immediately I wanted to do something like this for my Elden Ring fanart. In fact, if you look at this piece, there is tons of inspiration that I drew from the original artwork, such as the style of the yellow leaves and the main subject matter being a prominent silhouette of the brightest value, placed at approximately the bottom third of the image.

The main character is cleverly shrouded amidst various layers of trees and foliage, giving us the impression that we're peeking into candid moment of their life. In the case of the fox, we caught it during a mid-day snack. In the case of Ranni and her party, we caught them in a leisurely stroll, while Iji outfits the dreaded Fingercreepers with their iconic rings.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to capture a happy moment, but Ranni goes as far as to ask us to deliver to Iji and Blaidd the message that she loves them dearly as her quest draws near its end. I would imagine they all must have had fun moments together as a family. Hey, maybe even the hands liked to be around them?

The process

youtube

I started this on my iPad using the procreate app. Sadly the full process is not captured on video, as I switched to Photoshop for the rendering phase of the illustration. This video is a fun window into my chaotic process and how I iterate on the fly on the same canvas. I probably wouldn't do that in a professional setting where you often need to have color keys and iterations to be reviewed and analyzed. I like to I cut myself some slack when doing personal art to keep things fun.

Trying and failing some more

This illustration was not a straightforward path. I haven’t been very diligent about personal art, and at some point I started deviating too much from my reference by adding too many levels of depth to the background and suffocating the piece. I got into a weird loop where I would randomly open the PSD, play around with the values, pushing Iji to the back, then bringing him back, cranking all the levers on Ranni, etc., decide it would look horrible, then begrudgingly determine I’d never complete this image and go on with my life.

As artists we likely have unfinished work sitting everywhere, be it in our sketchbooks, canvases, or hard drives. But it’s a different kind of sting when you feel like you can’t even nail the fundamentals.

Anyway, so a couple weeks ago, I decided to give it another go, but this time I would get rid of all the unnecessary stuff, even stuff that I had been trying to render for ages. I would not hold on to anything, I would try and recapture what drew me to Kanzan's beautiful painting to begin with.

After it became a matter of pushing and pulling pixels until the image was finished!

That’s about it. I didn’t go crazy in depth but lately I’ve been enjoying reading into artists’ processes and I’d be remiss to not share my own thought process also.

Thank you for viewing!

#elden ring #lunar princess ranni #blaidd the half wolf #war counselor iji #illustration #artists on tumblr #fromsoftware #digital art #video game #fanart #Youtube

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neomujinjja · 8 months

Text

BoyNextDoor Park Dates

pairing: bf!boynextdoor x gn!reader

genre: fluff so much fluff

warnings: n/a

Jaehyun 재현

you guys watch the clouds together

you point out all of the characters and shapes you see to each other

so much giggling (jaehyun is silly)

arguing over how one cloud looks like 2 different things

he is not going down without a fight

jaehyun definitely puts his arm under your head and around your shoulder, with the other arm under his own head

so comfy that he falls asleep at one point

laying your head on his chest>>>

you cover him from the sun when it gets a little brighter

(how you cover him is up to your imagination)

you end up falling asleep too

you wake up to jaehyun playing with your hair

you stretch and almost smack him (that nap was TOO good)

the both of you stay out until it’s starts to rain

he walks you home with his umbrella over the both of you

you stop to splash in puddles together

sweet kisses goodbye 💜 (but not before you send him off with a blanket or an extra hoodie of his that you stole)

rest of the members under the cut!

Sungho 성호

to start off, the both of you go biking together <3

you attempt to ride his bike, but the wheels are too big

you race each other to the park

at the park, y'all have an art date !!!!

either you paint and show each other at the end

or you switch canvases every 30 minutes

mischievously swiping a little paint on each other’s face

soft kisses to get more paint on each other

he brings an extra canvas to make something special together

he tells you to put paint on your hand and you’re like ????? until you Realize and you’re like omg ☺️☺️☺️ that’s so cute 🥰🥰

you pick each other’s fave color and place your hands next to one another’s on the canvas

you make characters out of the handprints

playing on the park equipment while you wait for the canvases to dry

you guys set the canvases in a tree for safe keeping 🤞

he takes tons of photos

and he walks you home after getting lunch together at a local cafe

Riwoo 리우

a walk in the park

it’s the perfect date for him because it’s chill yet romantic

i can see it being either early morning or late at night

you and riwoo shyly hold hands the whole time

walking slowly, savoring every moment together 🥰🥰

he picks flowers in your fave color to tuck behind your ear

okay but putting a flower behind someone’s ear is SO intimate for no reason

gently tucking your hair before he places the flowers behind your ear

staring into each other’s wide eyes and blushing

dancing and being silly along the walking trail

he’d hum music for you which slowly progresses into the two of you singing together

picking more flowers together !!!!

stopping to play at the park before he takes you home

he kisses your cheek before leaving 🥰🩷

Taesan 태산

with taesan it’s just vibes

taesan picks out the music (which you don’t mind because his music taste>>)

you share earphones 🥰

you and taesan feed the ducks that are walking around

looking at the scenery around you and talking

you guys point out little animals that remind you of each other

there's a farmer’s market nearby so you both go

taking your time and stopping when something catches your eye

taesan sticks close to your side, keeping you out of harms way and minimizing the people you bump into

he buys a little something for y'all to snack on

you guys return to the park with fruits from the market

you share them as you lazily swing

(taesan let's you eat the majority)

he plays music on the speaker he brought

you guys play on the swings, the slide, and the spinners

when the fun has to end, he walks you home

he lends you his headphones to show you more music on the way home

at your door, you give him a quick peck on the cheek before putting his headphones on his head and hugging him super tight

he blushes and melts into the hug

(it’ll have him daydreaming the whole way home)

Leehan 이한

a cute picnic date

you know the fruit bowl with gummies and cider?

y'all do that but there's a Lot of gummies

(leehan eats them all)

feeding each other the leftover gummies !!!

the sandwiches are so yummy because leehan made them

after finishing up lunch, i can definitely see him taking you to a nearby river to cool down

you guys lay by the riverbank and watch the fish swim by

he teaches you different kinds of fish that swim by

you splash each other playfully

you guys go up a hill to watch the sunset and enjoy the breeze

you stare at each other for a little because you both think that the other is the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen

i think leehan would definitely tuck your hair behind your ear and smile softly at you

you vent to him while braiding his hair

he listens carefully before giving you advice

you both watch the rest of the sunset and talk about how pretty the colors are (but he thinks you’re prettier)

you exchange a gentle kiss before packing up and walking to your house

when you arrive, he lets you take the rest of the leftovers

he squeezes you tightly and plants a kiss in your hair before going home

Woonhak 운학

if it's after school, y'all do homework together

you help each other out and sometimes share answers

if it's on the weekend, then you play basketball together

y’all play a round of HORSE

maybe 1v1, first to 10

you do not mimic his shots accurately at ALL

but even if you aren't the best player, it's okay

hak just appreciates you being there with him

he loves that you’re taking the time to learn what he enjoys doing

he might even give you some lessons

“this one’s for you!” and he actually makes it because he’s woonhak

once y'all get tired, it's off to the convenience store to get food

so many snacks on top of your favorite ramen

playfully arguing about who pays

you guys share the food, occasionally feeding each other a chip

then you go back to his house to study for the upcoming exam

when he’s done, he starts working on music

he has you sing some things for him to sample

when you guys finish up, he walks you home

when you get to your house, he makes sure to greet your parents

hugs both you and your parents before going back to his house

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yuutasdream · 2 months

Note

Hobbies: photography, drawing, music, movies, reading wattpad fanfics

Sexuality: straight

Characters I wish to get: Gojo, Choso

You had a fun date with Gojo. He invited you to his place, where he had prepared two canvases for you to paint on. You enjoyed painting and exchanging the canvases to which each of you added a magical spark on each other's art making them unique.. You liked spending time with him, chatting and laughing. He took you later on for a walk to a garden, where you saw some adorable cats. You took photos of them with your camera as you loved photography, while he cuddled them and made funny faces. He looked so happy and carefree, and you felt the same way. You thanked him for the great day, and he hugged you warmly, making you smile.

Choso had planned a special movie date for you. He did the basic movie date yet Choso, as an elder brother, enjoyed quality time mostly. He knew how to make you feel comfortable and happy. He held your hand and whispered sweet things in your ear, making you blush and giggle. He was so captivated by you that he couldn't take his eyes off you, even during the movie. After the movie date Choso wanted to share more of his interests with you, so he bought the books related to the movies to read them with you. He took you to a beautiful park and cuddled with you on a blanket as you read the books together. He hugged you nicely and told you how much he enjoyed spending time with you.

Event: closed.

Thank you for joining 🤍

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quillsandblades · 1 month

Text

Shades of Another World

Based on the art by @catyypss

Levi has a way with colors and paints that is unlike anything Hange has ever seen before. The moment he sets up his canvas and arranges his equipment, she knows that he’s just a paintbrush’s stroke away from capturing the whole universe and translating it on his canvas in streaks and splashes of color.

It’s beautiful to watch, and she feels quite privileged to be able to see him paint. Best friend or not, Levi has always been secretive about his art. He stores his pieces in his workroom, letting only a few of them be seen by anyone (Which kind of makes sense because they’re the reflection of his innermost self). And Hange’s sure that no one in the entire world has ever been allowed to watch Levi Ackerman paint. So it’s only natural to feel absolutely giddy and warm when Levi finally allows her to see him while he worked—but only after years of insistence.

Hange Zoe marvels at her friend’s command over the shades of the world, the way his slender fingers move the brush, and guide the reds and blues and greens. At first it looks like haphazard colors strewn over the white surface, but then they take shape and arrange themselves, and Hange realizes that each stroke had a meaning, a purpose to the bigger picture, and how the absence of even a single speck would have diminished the final effect.

She just sits in wonder as Levi leans back on his chair, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth. He has made a horse galloping in a field, with the wide sky spread above. Sunlight plays on its mane and flank, and shadows dance on its body in just the right places. The field is full of flowers, lifting their faces in the gold pouring from the sun above.

It feels like the painting is breathing.

She’s sure she can hear the grunts of the horse, and the telltale whistle of the breeze.

‘You’re amazing Levi,’ she says a little breathlessly, turning to smile widely at him.

He just clicks his tongue and looks away.

Hange giggles. When will that shorty learn to take a compliment?

‘You know what?’ Hange leans her elbow on his desk. His eyes narrow suspiciously. ‘You should teach me how to paint this good.’

‘Fuck no,’ Levi glares. ‘I don’t teach. And especially not to morons like you.’

‘C’mon Levi,’ she whines.

‘No. You’ll probably manage to break everything you touch.’

‘Hey! I’m not like that!’ she cries indignantly. ‘And besides, I do know some basics; I just need to get my hands settled on it. I know it’ll never be as good as you, but I want to learn. Pleeeease.’

She stares at him with wide pleading eyes.

He folds his arms and glares at the window beside him. Hange pokes his shoulder hard with her finger and continues to do that repeatedly when he ignores her.

‘C’mon you grump, don’t be selfish. Share your talents.’

He grabs her finger and glares at her as she pokes him again. Anyone else would’ve pissed themselves at his menacing expression but Hange just grins.

‘You’ll love it too! I promise it’ll be fun.’

He sighs and pushes her away.

‘Fine,’ he grumbles.

‘Yesss!’ She punches the air.

*****

Levi has a shed in his backyard where he has set up his art studio. Next morning, Hange walks into it for the first time ever. It’s as neat as she expected, with paint tubes, canvases, sketch pads and so many other colorful things arranged in neat piles and labeled boxes in shelves. An easel and a comfortable chair are standing right next to the window, and a large work table is set beside it. A fair few of his paintings are hanging from the walls.

Hange takes off her jacket and hangs it. Levi follows her in and closes the door behind them quietly.

‘So what will we start with?’ Hange exclaims, picking up a brush excitedly, hovering next to the canvas.

‘Not that,’ Levi pulls her by the arm towards the table. When they’re both seated, he passes her a blank sheet, a paintbrush and a tube of paint. ‘First I need to see how good you are at handling a brush. Start.’

Hange looks at him uncertainly, ‘Um, so what exactly should I do?’

‘Anything. I just need to see how you use a paintbrush.’

‘Okay . . .’

She begins with simple shapes and figures and he silently watches her work. In between he sometimes asks her to make something.

‘Your grip seems fine, on the whole,’ he says when she’s finished. ‘But there’s still a lot you need to work on.’

Hange nods eagerly.

Levi then proceeds to explain the basics of using a brush, different types of grips for various strokes, when to apply pressure and so on. Then he observes her as she follows it all and guides her in places she goes wrong. They sit there until the sun dips low in the sky and the shadows stretch out against the ground. By the time Hange gets up to leave, she’s dead tired but happy.

Their routine continues, and each day he takes her one step ahead, explaining the basics of color theory, shading and so much more. Hange finds out that she’s seen Levi talking more than she ever had, in those classes; he seems relaxed, in his element. And Hange likes to think that it’s because he’s sharing his favorite thing, a part of himself, with his closest friend (as she prefers to call herself). And of course the thought makes her pleased beyond measure.

It’s another one of those days; Levi and Hange are in his studio and outside the summer sun shines in all its glory. She’s working on a technique he showed her, blotting a paper with paint-soaked fingers, trying—and failing—to bring about the proper effect. Levi is sitting by a canvas, painting away.

Hange drops her head on the table, and regards him over the rim of her glasses; sunlight dips over his face, slanting along his cheekbones. His brows are drawn in concentration, eyes following the constant sweep of his hand over the canvas.

‘Levi.’

‘Hmm?’

‘What’s your favorite thing to paint?’

‘Are you done with that?’ he points at the sheet in front of her.

‘I can’t get it right, but tell me—’

‘Then finish it up.’

‘Levi,’ she complains. ‘It’s a harmless question, I’m not gonna do anything else until you answer me. What do you like to paint the most?’

He sighs and puts his brush down, then leans back on his chair, contemplating her words. Hange waits in the wake of his silence.

‘The sky,’ he says after a while.

‘Why?’

‘Can’t you be satisfied with one answer?’ he grits out.

‘Not in my nature, shorty,’ she chuckles.

He picks up his brush and starts working again. She’s about to pester him further when he speaks softly.

‘It just . . . makes me feel free. The sky is unrestrained, limitless. I don’t know but, something about it just draws me in.’

Hange waits, knowing there’s more. She sees his fingers tighten around the brush, knuckles turning white. His next words come out fast and fumbling.

‘Every time I look up, I feel like I can breathe a little more easily—I'm so damn relieved that there’s—that there’s actually an open sky up there rather than—’

The brush slips from his finger as he stops short, eyes wide and staring into space.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Hange gets up, rushing over to him. Levi blinks rapidly, shaking himself out of whatever is going on in his head. Hange puts a hand on his shoulder and he turns to her.

‘’M fine,’ he mutters, brushing her off. ‘How’s your progress?’ he gets up.

‘I can’t get it right!’ Hange grouches. ‘Why do I need to paint with fingers in the first place?’

‘It’s important for some pieces. It also helps to bring out a texture that a brush can’t manage at times,’ he explains patiently.

He dips his finger in some paint and shows her once more how to do it. They sit side by side and work on the sheet, and Levi corrects her wherever she goes wrong. But Hange has to admit that it's a boring practice and she’s seriously lacking some entertainment. So when Levi is focused on the sheet in front of them, she stealthily scoops up some red paint and smears it right on his cheek.

He freezes.

Hange knows she has a literal second before he’s after her; she jumps out of her seat with a shriek before he can snatch her arm and bounds to the other side of the room.

‘You. Are. So. Dead,’ he promises darkly and chases after her in a flash.

Hange sprints around the table, cackling like a madwoman, with Levi on the tail. In her chaotic scuffle she grabs onto the rest of that paint and as he gains on her, she splashes it squarely at him. With Levi dripping in red, Hange knows she’ll be dead for sure if he catches her now. She pelts out of the shed and into his backyard. Her howls of laughter echo in the silent afternoon and they both run in circles around the garden like some frisky children.

When he almost catches her, she turns around abruptly and jumps on him, taking him by surprise as they both tumble to the ground. He’s pinned beneath her and scowling through the mess on his face.

Everything is silent around them save for the chitter-chatter of birds and Hange’s giggles. Summer seems to be pouring on them lazily and she can see how his face shines in the warmth of the sun. She’s left him quite disheveled; he’s panting slightly; his shirt is stained and streaks of red are sliding down his forehead, cheeks and nose and—

Shrapnel is embedded in his face, blood trailing down his once flawless skin. He lays limp in her arms, dragging down her heart like an anchor to the bottom of the sea. Don’t die, her broken, wounded heart pleads, please don’t die.

Hange’s laughter tapers off. She stares at him with wide eyes.

‘Oi,’ Levi is frowning, sensing her sudden rigidness. ‘Four-eyes.’

She shivers violently and Levi pushes her off him gently. She sits upon the grass as her head pounds and her vision swims. She sucks in heavy breaths feeling like her lungs are in a chokehold. With a long breath, she pulls herself together and looks around. Levi is nowhere and she’s sitting alone in the yard.

‘Levi!’ she shouts, irrational panic laces her voice. She stumbles to her feet, searching left and right. He was right there with her, where did he go? Where could he have—

‘Relax,’ his steady voice sounds from behind her. She whips around to see him coming out of the house, holding a glass of water in one hand and tissues in the other, with which he’s wiping his now wet and blood—paint-free face clean. Her anxiety diminishes a touch.

He hands her the water and she gulps it down shakily. The cool liquid soothes her throat and calms her jangled nerves. Levi is gazing at her apprehensively and she wants to tell him that she’s okay and it was probably just the heat, but the words are trapped in her throat and nonsensical thoughts are swirling in her head—thoughts that are screaming that he’s gonna slip out of her grasp and die any second if she doesn’t do anything right now because he’s bleeding and dying out in her arms and they’re surrounded and there’s no way out.

‘Hange,’ she feels a cool hand on her arm, her gaze catches his, steel-blue irises watch her intensely.

She raises her trembling fingers and softly brushes them against his cheek, pale and smooth, not cut up and bleeding. He’s still under her touch, his eyes searching. She lets her gaze flit across his features, trying to release her throat from that chokehold.

‘You’re not . . . hurt?’ her whisper is small.

He frowns and seizes her hand, squeezing her fingers firmly, ‘No four-eyes. I’m fine.’

‘But you were,’ she murmurs feverishly. ‘And I . . . I couldn’t—’

She drops her forehead on his shoulder and shudders ‘Don’t do anything so reckless again.’

She doesn’t know how long they stand there like that, but Levi doesn’t move and she just breathes. Maybe he thinks she’s finally gone mad, but he doesn't say anything, doesn't push her off. In truth, she can’t understand a thing herself, or the words she’s saying, but she knows that something made her feel like she was losing Levi. And the thought was terrifying.

‘Let’s go inside, I’ll make lunch,’ he sounds indifferent as ever, but she can detect hints of worry in his voice. She presses his hand.

‘Okay.’

*****

Levi eventually gives her the spare keys so she can come to his studio and practice whenever she feels like. It’s helpful, because now she has pretty much mastered most of the things he taught her over the months and she sometimes feels the sudden urge to paint something that pops in her head, and rushes to his shed right that instant if she can. She’s still not perfect, and there are many things she struggles with, but she likes her progress.

‘Leviii,’ Hange drawls, slumped over the chair by the window, pouting at her canvas.

‘I can’t draw the sea foam.’

He sighs from the other end of the room where he’s arranging his new supplies, ‘Have you learnt nothing all these months?’

‘But it’s difficult. I can try but there’s only a sixty percent chance that I’ll get it right and I don’t wanna ruin this canvas.’

Previously she made two paintings on a canvas, only because she was confident that she’d get them right, and she’d practiced on a rough paper beforehand. One was a sunset, and the other was a sea port. Both of them are now hanging on the walls. The one she’s currently working on is of a raging sea and so far everything’s going good except for that damned sea foam.

Levi approaches her, observing her work critically. She extends the paintbrush towards him and grins, ‘You’ll do it for me, right?’

‘No.’

‘But it’s just one tiny detail, nothing will happen if you help me out shorty!’

‘I’ll help out all right, but I won’t do it for you,’ he grumbles.

And before she can protest, he moves at the back of her chair and clutches her hand from behind, leading it to the blue and gray strokes she has made. He positions her fingers in the right way, ‘You do it like this,’ he says softly. His breath tickles her neck and she suppresses a shiver. He’s close. Very close.

He moves the brush lightly over the canvas and she sees the sea foam manifest before her eyes effortlessly. He guides her hand over the rest of the painting in the same way. His grip is warm and steady, whereas her own hands are trembling slightly. Hange is not averse to physical contact, especially with her friends. But Levi has never before initiated it first, and she tells herself that it’s the sole reason she feels shaken right now.

‘You get it?’ his low voice spills over her ear.

‘Y—yes,’ she manages, feeling breathless for reasons beyond her.

‘Good,’ he pulls away slowly and she exhales. ‘Don’t mess it up again.’

She’s sure she wouldn’t. Not when the phantom touch of his fingers is still burning on her hand.

Hange wakes up to the morning light with a start, gasping for air. Her heart is racing in her chest and cold sweat slicks her face. She looks around and realizes that she’s at home, at her desk where she fell asleep last night. Files and documents are jumbled around her, and her muscles are sore from sleeping in an awkward position. She checks her phone; it’s eight in the morning and Sunday.

She runs a hand over her eyes. There’s an odd restlessness in her heart, and she knows it’s got something to do with her dream. Its memory is hauntingly fresh in her mind, so much so that she can even feel all those sensations. Suddenly the room is too hot and stifling. She gets up, grabs her jacket and the spare keys Levi entrusted to her and rushes out.

His shed is empty at this hour, and she knows he won’t be surprised to see her when he’ll come in as he’s already used to finding her cooped up in there at odd hours.

She grabs a palette, paints, brushes and fixes a suitable canvas on an easel. Then she perches on that chair beside the window and starts to work. Colors merge and dance over the blank surface, filling it with life. She works with focus this time, and yet her hands shake, but not due to nervousness. Maybe it’s anticipation, because surprisingly Hange doesn’t know herself what this will lead to. Her muscles seem to be obeying that hazy, murky part of her brain that’s ruled by the incoherent; the part that perhaps knows and remembers the dream she had today, much more vividly than her.

Red, blue, yellow, gray. There’s a story in every stroke. She’s waiting. Waiting for it all to come together and assemble, and finally give her the answer she craves. Outside, the sun climbs higher and the day gets steadily brighter. Light streams in, shining curiously upon her as she works, unaware of the world.

When she finally concludes her painting with a last shade of swirling orange, she freezes. Everything is silent around her, sunbeams dip into the room, her heartbeats are loud in her ears.

In her painting is a port, and giant skeletal creatures wrapped in raw muscles are marching over everything. She’s high up in the sky, zipping towards them in rage. Burning. Below, in the shadow of it all, small figures of people are rushing around a plane.

Hange drops her brush and stares at the scene before her. She’s not sure why she made this, or what compelled her mind to come up with an image like that. She wants to brush it off as a spur-of-the-moment inspiration, but the fact remains that she wasn’t even aware of what she was drawing half the time. The image made itself. And then there’s this suffocating ache in her chest that she can’t define, it’s squeezing her in an iron grip. She leans back and throws an arm over her face, breathing deeply.

The fire licks at her body and screams rip her throat. Pain beyond measure stabs her all over but she has to move forward, she has to finish them off, has to buy them time, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much she wants to live. She must sacrifice herself.

The door opens.

‘What’re you doing this time?’ Levi’s voice pulls her out of the drifting currents of her mind.

She looks up at him with tired eyes. How long had she been sitting there, working nonstop?

‘What’ve you made?’ he comes over to her, leaning over to look at her work. Hange watches him closely.

She hears his breath hitch, sees his eyes widen and expression morph into something unguarded and open. He gazes at the scene for a long moment without saying anything. Then he raises his hand and touches the painting, the part where she is drawn in an odd suit, wielding swords and engulfed in flames. The painting’s still wet and the reddish orange color of the fire stains his fingers.

‘You . . .’ he looks back at her, and this time Hange can see something more in his expression: pain. ‘Why did you make this?’

‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘It felt like my hands had a mind of their own. I couldn’t stop.’

He straightens and lets out a heavy breath. His eyes are weighed. He grabs her hand and leads her to a door at the corner of the shed that Levi never let her open before. They enter a small room which is full of paintings of different sizes—Levi’s art, she realizes. At one side, some of them are covered with a large white sheet. He yanks it away to reveal more pieces, only these are different from the others.

As soon as Hange looks at them, the same restlessness she felt today crashes back into her heart. There’s something achingly familiar about those pictures. They show green fields, stables and dark, stone castles. They show people sitting around fires, but their faces are hazy, as if the moments were captured from wispy dreams. She does recognize some people though: a blur of color that resembles Levi, a similar one that could be her. She even spots Erwin’s indistinct form among many others. Then there are paintings with giant distorted creatures and people zipping through the sky.

She turns to Levi, ‘What is this?’ her voice begs for answers.

‘I don’t know,’ he mirrors her words from earlier.

It’s something for sure, they both feel it and she knows it’s important in some way.

Levi seizes her arm suddenly; his brows are furrowed and his fingers are digging into her skin.

‘You’re . . . here? Right?’ and the helpless look he gives her just confirms that he’s feeling exactly as she did that day when she splattered paint over him. He needs to know that she’s okay, and he’s not going to lose her. He needs her to destroy the images in his head that are probably playing a twisted scene of her death.

Hange laces her fingers with his and presses reassuringly, ‘I’m right here shorty. And I’m not going anywhere,’ she promises.

He nods, but maintains the death grip on her hand. They both walk out of his shed and Hange pushes all those tangled thoughts to the back of her mind. She’ll think about it later, talk to Levi and make something of this. But for now she has to assure him that she’s with him and they’re fine. They’re okay and they’re together and they’re alive.

And there’s nothing more she can ask for.

#levihan #hange zoe #levi ackerman #my writing #for all the painters/artists out there #I don't know the ABCs of painting lol idk how i wrote this #levihan fanfiction #reincarnation #snk fanfiction #attack on titan

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