#I feel like a Renaissance artist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

some-bunniii · 3 months

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Lucifer with an artist reader

・❥ You’re hosting an art class, and the nude model is someone you never expected

xx: it’s a long one y’all 😭 we’re still in the pre-dating era! Slowburn, anybody? Forget the crumbs, have the whole loaf of bread, my swans ☺️

warning: brief mentions of nudity & mild swearing

After Lucifer’s initial tour of the hotel, he started coming around much more often.

He was beginning to reconcile with his daughter, and that meant making up for all the years he had missed out due to his self-isolation.

When Lucifer came to the hotel for Charlie, he always made time for you.

At first, when you had still been busy working away at the paintings for the hotel, he had used the excuse that he was just coming over simply to “admire the art.”

Nevermind that he crossed the entire hotel just to look at some paintings, but you never pried him about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t waiting in anticipation for his visits.

Sometimes, he would lean against the door frame in silence, watching as your brush glided across the surface of the canvas. He dared not to disturb you while you worked. Too afraid he’d cause you to slip up and place your brush in the wrong spot, ruining your piece.

He never would admit it, but the soft, feather-like strokes you made always seemed to lull him into a state of tranquil bliss.

If he had the opportunity to sit there for hours and watch you paint, he’d probably drift off into a peaceful sleep.

It was ASMR for the King of Hell.

You weren’t always sure whether he was admiring the painting, or you. You were too concentrated on making a leaf of a tree, or the surface of the water just right to trace his gaze.

You’d think with Lucifer being the embodiment of pride and his rank as ruler of the realm, he’d have demanded your attention instantly.

Instead, it was you who usually spoke first. “Are you going to sit down?” You’d tease with a warm smile, greeting him with a bat of your eyelashes as you soaked your brush with fresh paint.

“Of course, I just wanted to see your progress, it’s looks beautiful as always.”

You had hummed a thanks as he strode over to the flat cushion in the middle of the room, and collapsed in it. He had now claimed it as his personal spot ever since he had first used it when you let him use his wings for reference.

Every time he made himself comfortable, he would exhale a large sigh of relief, like he just walked out of a noisy and over-stimulating circus show.

His tolerance for people in general was still pretty dicey, but here, in the quiet corner of the hotel, he could reset his mind.

And with you there? He didn’t feel so lonely. Even in your silence, your presence and the multitude of large paintings leaning against the walls was all he needed to keep his mind from drifting off into darker thoughts.

“Boy, do you work fast. I can’t imagine what Hell would like if you were the one running things.”

“Probably terrible,” You had laughed, “I may be able to create art under time constraints, but the pressure of an entire realm on my shoulders? We’ll let the super-powerful-fallen-angel deal with that.”

“There goes my vacation,” He had sighed dramatically.

Sometimes, he’d catch you humming to an ancient tune, and every time he’d ask you about it.

“What song is this?” He’d ask, genuine interest lacing his voice.

“Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen”

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means”

“ ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’ ,” you’d laugh, “It’s a German song and is, you guessed it, from the Renaissance.”

“Oh, right. Germany. Yeah, they were our biggest influx of souls back in the early 1900s,” He replied, “Must’ve been fun people.”

You shook your head at that. Right, ‘Fun’, that was a rather.. surface-level take on what that country had gotten into during that period of time.

“You should tell me more about the Renaissance.” He’d ask with puppy-dog eyes, which always made you set down your brush and turn to him. A content smile spreading across your face.

Your knowledge of such a time always intrigued him, the Renaissance as a whole did. For so long, he had desperately clung onto the hope that some of humanity would go on to create great and beautiful things due to his actions. That his Fall wasn't all for nothing.

Slowly, that hope fizzled out, and Lucifer’s growing delusion that Earth mirrored the sinful realm of Hell in more ways than one plagued his mind.

And then you appeared, passionate about Man’s most beautiful creations. Art, music, long-ago writings of sappy declarations of love in the form of poetry, and times when humanity’s intellectual and innovative nature flourished.

“It was absolutely magnificent,” You’d start, drawing from the depths of your mind all the imagery you could remember from when you were alive, “Filled with all kinds of artistic expression, painters that filled the ceilings of churches with heavenly imagery-“

Lucifer had snorted at that. This era in time had such a romanticized idea of what Heaven and their Creators were like. He pitied their ignorance.

“-and beautiful music. They were known for bringing to life a worldview known as Humanism. It was meant to bring back ancient philosophy — like from the Greeks — to uplift people to participate in the betterment of humanity, and to perpetuate much more virtuous actions. There must be a whole city full of them up there, I can't imagine anyone from that period ending up down here with how protective they were of their moral code.”

He’d always listen attentively in silence as you educated him. Sometimes, he’d even pull out the classic yellow rubber duck toy he held so close to his heart, and begin to fiddle with it as you spoke.

When he worked on them in your room, he’d curate them especially for you.

“Look! This one can refill your palette with the bestest freshest paint!” He’d exclaim as he wiggled it in the air, “And it still quacks!”

Every time, you’d pull up a cushion across the table from him, and rest your chin on your hand as you watched in amusement as he demonstrated his work.

In this instance, he squeezed the sides of the duck and it let out a pathetic Sqeaaooo and a glob of paint slid out of its mouth and plopped right onto the table. It splattered, leaving a few droplets on his pretty white overcoat.

Lucifer was a messy fella, and times like this made you growl quietly and reach for a wet cloth from your cleaning bucket. Hastily trying to rid his clothing of the bright red paint. Your movements across his sleeve made his body tense, and his breath quicken.

For someone who easily flustered you with abrupt acts of affection like the first time you met, Lucifer had the uncanny ability to turn his face as red as his cheek spots when you displayed such care towards him.

“It's still a work in progress.” He’d bashfully assure you every time something like that wouldn’t go as planned.

You’d wish Lucifer displayed such creativity outside of the yellow bath toy, but you promised yourself to help him down that path.

You could only imagine how many ideas this man had stored in that head of his, and you had a feeling you’d get him to wake up eventually. The thought of being there for him — with him, made your cheeks hot.

When it was finally time for him to leave the hotel — sometimes hours later, you’d walk him to the door of your little atelier and he’d turn to you, with that charming smirk and half-lidded look.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Charlie?” You had ask, as he adjusted his hat and coat to depart.

“I already did before I got here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if you two existed in completely different buildings. Nevermind that she was a flight of stairs and a few halls away.

There were no more bold kisses to the limbs from him after your first meeting, to your displeasure. Even thinking about it gave you feelings that tugged painfully at your heartstrings and made you beg internally for more.

You desperately wished for him to softly hold your hand once more, to feel his lips graze your knuckles, to drink in the warmth of his touch.

Instead, he clutched his staff tightly, and dipped his hat to you.

“Until next time, Darling,” his voice, like silk, had echoed as waves of gold surrounded him. In a blink of an eye, you were left alone once more. Your heart pounding just like the first time, and every time after that.

Today, your heart was pounding just as fast. Except there was no Lucifer in sight.

Three days ago, you got a call from a good friend of yours who ran an art studio on the other side of Pentagram City. She realized she had double booked her classes, and had begged you to take over one for them.

“I’ve never taught anyone before…” You had trailed off over the phone, apprehensive to the idea.

“Nonsense! You are so well spoken, and you’re fantastic at this kind of stuff,” She exclaimed, “It’s not that hard, all you have to do is sit there while they trace the model and step in a few times to give them some tips on techniques. They aren’t a beginner class, so they shouldn’t need much instruction. You’re also in charge of guiding the model with the poses, but I already have a sheet that has them all, so you just need to follow along.”

You stood there for a moment, thinking. This was something totally strange to you. What were art classes like in Hell, anyway?

“Oh, AND they are going to be nude. At least partially, we make them cover their um, nether regions. That shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? I mean, you get paid for it so…”

Your friend trailed off, and the line went quiet for a moment as you mind raced. You looked around the now -empty atelier, your paintings finished and hung up around the hotel. You had nothing that was stopping you from doing it, not your skills, your time, or even the fact that the model was going to be exposed. You were in Hell, seeing someone like that was an almost daily occurrence. Telling her no just because of your nerves was a douchy thing to do, and you were far above that.

“Fine.” You conceded.

“YAYY!!” She shrieked in happiness, and you had to yank the phone away from your ear before it could start to bleed.

The next few minutes were her telling you where, when, and what to do. You had listened intently, memorizing her words. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of strangers that you were teaching.

After hanging up the phone, had you went downstairs and to the hotel’s lobby to inform Charlie of your new job.

“I’m really sorry if this interferes with me working here, but I just couldn’t leave her hanging.”

“Pffft, it’s fine,” Charlie had waved it off, “You accepting the position as my new interior design manager is more than enough, i’m just glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone like this!”

You sighed a breath of relief. Good, no issues. You were worried she would have said no, and the fact she knows about Lucifer visiting you? Well, you weren’t sure how she was taking that. You never dared to ask, nor did she make any kind of indication her feelings about that.

“What’s it like?” She had asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“It’s nothing too bad, I think I might actually like it. I just help them with their techniques on mastering figure drawing by using a model as a reference. My friend says they are still looking for one to pose, so hopefully they find one in the next few days.”

“Interestingggggg” Charlie responded, her eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. You could see the gears turning in her head, but what for, you had no clue. You didn’t ask either.

You had spent the next few days preparing, you even had visited the studio. It was very pretty, and the room you were in was small, but rather homey. You had more confidence with your ability to lead the class now after locating specific areas of importance.

Which lead you to present day. You were hurriedly scrambling around the room, grabbing anything of necessity.

Your eyes jumped to the clock, and a squeak of panic escaped you as the class’ starting time got closer and closer. Finally placing the last pencil in your bag, you raced down the stairs, beelining for the door.

“Where you going in such a rush, Hot Cakes?” Angel Dust called out to you from the bar, Husk next to him as he poured Angel another drink.

“To class, do you know where Charlie or Alastor is?” You questioned them.

A rush of wind tickled your back, and you whipped around to see the Radio Demon himself looming behind you.

“Hello, my friend!” Alastor’s toothy grin on full display.

“I heard you were looking for Charlie, unfortunately she left not too long ago. She said it was something of great importance, and that it could shape the future of the hotel. But do not worry, I am here to assist you!”

You placed your hands together into a praying motion, trying your best to appeal to the demon’s better nature. If he had one.

“Can you pretty, pretty please send me to the Regal Fortune Studio? I’m doing a class there and I need to get there on time.” You begged.

Alastor’s eyes squinted in thought. Before his smile widened more than ever.

“Alright, I suppose so.”

You didn’t get to utter a thank you before the demon snapped his fingers, and dark energy crackled around you. Cold suddenly gripped at your shoulders, and your vision blurred.

You squeezed your eyes shut, unsure of what would happen next.

‘Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me’

Suddenly, light hit your eyelids and you slowly opened them to see the studio before you, just steps away from the front door.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, before yanking open the door.

The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint voices inside. Indicating that everyone but you was ready to begin.

You crossed the lobby, ready to pull on the handle of the door, before a slight movement in the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head.

At the far end of the room, you could partially see long, blonde hair sticking out into view. Then, you heard the stranger speak to herself. Quiet grumblings of a feminine voice as they berated themself.

You raised an eyebrow.. could it be?

“Charlie?” You asked slowly.

The stranger squeaked, their hair pulled out of view. You heard a thump against the wall, as though they’ve pressed themselves against it in an attempt to hide.

You slowly tip toed the hallway, before whipping your body around the corner, surprising the mysterious figure.

“Charlie!” You shrieked in surprise at the sight of her, crouched against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a shriek of her own. Her eyes darted around, before she pulled herself up to meet your gaze.

“Oh my gosh heyyyyy, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She mocked innocence.

“Bullshit,” you retorted, “I told you where I was going like three days ago. Why are you really here?”

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip. As if she was deciding whether to tell you the truth, or another lie.

Suddenly, she let go of the breath she held, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Okay.. the truth is, when you told me you were hosting an art class I was so thrilled! For you, of course. But then, I thought about how much you and my dad were getting along! Then, I thought about how you guys seemed to have the shared interest of art. So I.. told him about the class?”

“And?” You questioned, irritation lacing your voice. You really did not have time for this.

“And I told him about how you were still looking for a model, and you know how he is. He doesn’t have a problem doing things like that in front of people, and he’s getting better at being around people in general..”

You gripped Charlie by her shoulders when she trailed off again, shaking her.

“Spit it out! What about your dad?!”

“HE AGREED TO BE THE MODEL FOR YOUR CLASS BUT I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NUDE UNTIL WE SHOWED UP BUT HE JUST SAID GOODBYE AND WALKED INTO THE BACK ROOM!!”

You stopped dead, your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head slightly, eyeing the classroom door.

“Your dad… is in there… naked?” You finally managed to get the sentence out, your gaze returning to Charlie in a look of disbelief.

This was a joke, right? There was noooo way you were going to walk in there a minute and see Lucifer there. This was just a terrible (-bly good?) dream.

Charlie nodded in defeat, her head hung low.

“I don’t even have the mental strength to go in there. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to. He was dead set on this.”

You rubbed a hand along your face, gathering your thoughts.

“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” You said, rolling your shoulders in preparation, “Guess I have a class to teach.”

“Have fun..?” Charlie smiled innocently at you. Her plan was working, after all.

You shot her a glare before crossing the lobby once more, and pulled open the door. You stepped inside, breath hitched, and gently shut the door behind you.

In front of you, four older women sat behind easels with a blank white canvas attached. If they noticed your arrival, they didn’t show it. Instead, they giggled in the direction of the slightly lifted stage. You couldn’t see who was on the stage, but the familiar voice with giddy amusement told you exactly who it was.

“You’re finally here!” Lucifer called, and you did nothing but stand there for a moment.

Straightening your back, you exhaled a deep breath, and walked forward. Right past the stage. You kept your eyes in front of you, ignoring the golden gaze that trailed your figure.

You positioned yourself between the platform and the women who had finally stopped giggling and whispering to each other, and cleared your throat.

“Hello, everyone. I’m your instructor for today, unfortunately Renee couldn’t be here today. We’ll be going over the usual though, figure drawing with the model present today.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them with renewed energy.

Slowly, you turned on your heels and pivoted in the direction of the platform. Your eyes widening at the sight.

Before you, on a long, red couch lay the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar, in all his glory. Shirtless, with no pants in sight. Thankfully, a thin, barely-hiding-anything sheet covered his waist section.

You met his gaze, a playful smirk etched on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, gauging for a reaction.

You made sure not to give him one. If he thought he was going a reaction from you in front of all these people, he was wrong.

“Let’s start by doing a quick sketching exercise, take about ten minutes to do your best and draw the model in front of you. Once the timer goes off, we’ll review and go over some techniques, before switching to a much longer pose.”

You clicked the timer, and the faint ticking of its gears cemented you into reality.

“Is that Lucifer?” One of the ladies whispered to her friend a chair over. Her friend shrugged, “I have no idea.. but boy, is he handddssoomee.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore their gossip.

Sitting in the chair farthest from the group, you crossed your arms, your gaze resting on the floor. Was he looking at you right now?

You sat there for a moment, before realizing you couldn’t ignore him forever. He was the model after all. Soon you’d have to be helping him change poses anyway.

You looked up, drinking in the view. He was lazily leaning against the back of the velvet couch,

His hair, with no hat to cover it, stuck to his face messily with sweat. As he adjusted his head, a few strands of curls fell in front of his eyes. His intense stare slightly masked.

Was the room getting hot, or was it just you?

His eyes were locked on you, that stupid smirk still on his face. You sent daggers back to him.

He replied with a wave of his fingers.

You refused to let yours eyes travel any farther than his face, not ready for what kind of images your mind would give you regarding what was underneath the sheet.

“Did you know the Renaissance was pretty famous for constantly expanding its artistic art forms?” A voice smooth as butter filled the silence.

What the hell was he doing?!

“Believe it or not, the naked human was a very big inspiration for many of their paintings. No sheet in sight.”

Some of the women perked up in interest at Lucifer’s words. You couldn’t tell if they were actually interested in what he had to say, or just to hear his voice as it commanded the room’s attention.

“For an era so virtuous,” He teased the last part, reminding you of your discussion days earlier, “They so did love their scandalous marble status.”

He let that sink in, and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. You couldn’t believe this was how Charlie planned on setting the two of you up.

A candle lit romantic dinner? Nah. A trip to the movies? Boring, apparently.

Were you against the idea of getting closer with the ‘Big Boss of Hell’? Of course not! He made you laugh and was actually interested in your ideas. This was just not how you expected it to go down.

“Keep talking, pretty boy!” One called from behind her easel.

Before he could speak again, the timer shrieked in your palm. You shot up from your seat, clasping your hands together loudly.

You turned your back to Lucifer as you began instructing the class, showing them a few techniques on how to straighten their lines, and how to hold their pencil just the right way that would give them a much thicker line for specific parts of the body.

“Alright, now, we’re going to have the model switch positions.”

Grabbing the paper that held all the different poses, you held it out to him, your finger tapping against the specific one in question. It showed the figure in a front facing view, one hand closed in a fist supported their chin, the other tucked neatly underneath. As if they were listening intently to some hot gossip.

“I’m afraid I can’t see what‘s on the paper. Perhaps, if you come a little closer and show me?

You groaned internally, he was enjoying this too much. You strided over to him. His gaze followed you, his grin only widening as you closed in on where he laid.

“You need to turn facing them,” You commanded the King himself. He pivoted, his body fully facing the group of gawking onlookers. He gave them a wink, and they hid behind their easels, their whispers fast and beathless.

“Now, you have to move your arm.. like this.” You spoke, reaching out one hand. You hesitated for a minute. You’ve never been so.. upfront with like this.

Reaching down, you gently circled your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you allowed your hand to slip down, reaching his forearm.

His body was hot to the touch, and you felt like melting right then and there. Maybe it was time just to accept defeat, this man was just too good looking.

You felt the muscles of his arms shift, and you halted for a half a second.

Did he just tense?

Maybe you weren’t the only one who could be teased.

You guided his arm forward, and then up. Sliding your fingers, ever so gently, around his knuckles. You squeezed, and his hand enclosed into a fist. You guided it underneath his chin.

“Touchy today, aren’t we?” He spoke quietly to you, his voice dripping with velvet allure as you positioned him as the image on the paper showed.

“You be quiet.” You scolded him, trying your best to bring on your most serious face.

His quiet chuckle in response made you drop the face instantly. It was obvious you were pretty bad at this kind of thing, at least compared to Lucifer.

You grabbed his other arm, and gently tugged it underneath. Letting it lay neatly below him.

Taking a step back, you admired your work.

You were going to return to your seat, before a thought crossed your mind. You took a step forward, closing in on Lucifer again.

“And one more thing…” You started.

Using two fingers, you grazed the bottom of his chin, firmly pressing upward. Instinctually, his head followed the motion. He met your eyes, his gaze intensifying.

“Good boy.” You teased, your voice laced with a hint of sultry satisfaction.

You didn’t miss his pupils dilating into slits and his breath hitching slightly. You just turned on your heels, not giving him a second glance before returning to your seat.

You tilted your head at him slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Your lips curling into a provocative smirk as you gripped the timer.

Maybe now this would be an even match.

“Begin.”

Time flew by once more, and this time, Lucifer refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he was purely focused on the easels in front him.

“Tell me, my dear artist,” He began, addressing the demon woman before him. Her eyes widened when she realized he was speaking to her.

“If we were back in the Renaissance, would I make quite the muse?”

“Pardon?” The lady asked timidly, her voice coming out in a whisper.

“How about a statue? Think about that. Tall, Marble-skinned, and… lacking this rather uncomfortable cloth.”

The woman’s face turned bright red. Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue refusing to cooperate. Lucifer knew how to play this game well.

Then, he turned his head to you.

“What about you, stranger? Would you think i’d look good in such a form?”

You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair.

“If the statue could stay quiet, while the class finished their work. Then, perhaps.”

The angel huffed, averting his gaze. He blew a few strands of hair out of his face, before continuing his blank stare at the wall.

The timer in your palm rang once more. You lifted yourself out of the chair. This was it, the last pose.

You strided back to Lucifer, his smoldering gaze on your figure as you approached.

For this pose, he needed to be off his stomach. You weren’t going to roll him like a log, or go anywhere near his torso. That was too brazen of an act for you to commit to, at least with all the eyes on you. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the white sheet. You tugged with all your might.

With an oomph he rolled along with it, he shoulder blades digging into the cushions as he landed exactly where you wanted.

Before the ladies could get even a glimpse, you hurriedly adjusted the sheet back onto him.

“Impressive, bending the devil himself to your will.” He commented as you continued to adjust his arms.

Ignoring him, you moved onto his legs, positioning them slightly.

“Careful~” He chided.

You said nothing to that either. Once he was in the correct pose, you released him. You glanced at his hair, now messily covering his face.

You reached forward and, splaying your fingers, pushed his hair back behind his head. You let your nails softly graze his scalp before you tugged them free.

“Sorry, can’t have your curls covering your face for the girls back there.”

“I bet they wished they were in your position,” Lucifer hummed “Few rarely are.”

You chuckled softly, “Please, the view looks better from back there.”

He let out an audible “Ha!” as the words left your lips and you turned away from him once more. You knew that must’ve stung, sending a blow to the prideful king’s ego.

Thirty minutes went by as you sat there, you spent more time examining your hands than meeting the gaze of the angel across the room.

This had turned into quite an eventful class, you couldn’t lie. You also didn’t expect such a shameless attitude from Lucifer, he was much more timid back in your painting room. Perhaps there was a side of him you still had yet to meet.

To be honest, sitting here, watching the clock tick by, you were pretty surprised this man had managed to stay near-perfectly still these past few hours.

Another thirty, and the timer rang its last chime. You had been positioned behind the drawing ladies, giving them critiques on their work.

You ignored the fact it was Lucifer you kept staring at on their canvas, instead simply regarding it as charcoal lines in need of straightening.

You wished them farewell at the doorway as they left. You hoped they had at least a pleasant time, since they’d have at least a good story to tell to their girlfriends over the phone.

Shutting the door with a soft thud, you sat there for a moment before your shoulders dropped in exhaustion. You honestly weren’t used to that kind of atmosphere, since your work consisted of you alone in a quiet room all day.

Taking a few steps backwards farther into the room, your gaze landing on the couch atop the platform. It was empty. Your eyes widened, did Lucifer just leave you here?

You rushed out of the classroom and strode into the lobby, searching for any signs of him.

“Wow, that little sneaky piece of-”

“I’m right here.” Came a familiar voice behind you.

You jumped, whipping around to find Lucifer dressed fully. Hat and all. Now this is what you were used to. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow.

“What was that back there?” You motioned to the room behind you.

“My daughter invited me to look good in front of people and I did an outstanding job, as usual.”

“As the model? You couldn’t have just used your position as King to get a spot behind the easel instead?”

Lucifer grinned widely, leaning back against the wall. Could this have been his plan, and not Charlie’s? Now you weren’t so sure.

“Unfortunately, not many of us have a skill as perfected as yours with a brush.”

You accepted that praise. You had worked hard for it.

“And, not many people have as great of a photogenic face as me. So, we’re square.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked away. Lucifer kept pace as you both exited the studio, heading toward the curb.

“That reminds me,” Lucifer halted, reaching into his pocket to fish for something.

You stopped beside him, the mystery item in his coat pocket piquing your interest.

“I fixed it!” He held the the paint-vomiting rubber duck out to you, wiggling it in delight.

“You did?”

“That’s right. This bad boy can now pop out six different colors, you just have to pull its beak.”

“That actually really cool,” You laughed, taking the rubber toy from him. You turned it in your hands, maybe later you’d pretty it up with some fresh paint.

You looked up at him again, his golden eyes shimmering from the bright neon backdrop. You have much more to say to him, but your thoughts were jumbled from the day. There was one, though.

“You know, next time you should just ask.” You gripped the duck firmly in the palm of your hand, lowering your arm.

“Ask what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Luci. You’re telling me you hijacked my class because you had a change in career choice?”

His smile turned playful again, and he pivoted to face you, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Maybe, maybe not. That depends if i’ll be seeing you next week?” His eyes met yours with a questioning stare.

You gave him a warm-hearting smile, nodding your head.

“As always.”

His smile widened, and with a tap of his staff. Golden waves cascaded around you. It wasn’t cold, like Alastors. Instead, it was warm and relieving, like face planting into your pillows after an exhausting day.

As your vision began to obscure, you saw his face peak into the cascades of light, his hand reaching forward.

“I almost forgot.” His voice echoed, distorted by the magic as it circled them.

His hand enclosed around your own, and planted a kiss right onto your wrist. His lips lingered for a moment, as did his grip around your hand, as if your time together was too fleeting to let go.

You promised silently it wasn’t.

The light rushed over you suddenly, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep from being blinded. Lucifer’s touch vanishing with your sight.

Feeling your feet planting on solid ground, your eyes widened to familiar surroundings of the hotel lobby. You were home, and Lucifer was no where in sight.

“Hey, Hot Cakes!” Angel Dust called, still seated in the same spot at the bar, “How’d it go?”

——————

🤍 alright, let me know what you think of this!! your comments are appreciated, esp if you have any ideas on what to do next!

💜 the kisses are getting higher! part 3?

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #did i do the sexy good?#my asexual ass is trying y’all #this man has been in one ep and we’re all snarling over him jesus

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darksouls2yuri · 2 years

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everyday i draw outside my normal style for more realistic proportions all those years of art classes and anatomy studies flood into my mind like i ate a madmans knowledge

#txt #ughhhh its like anne do u remember when u were obsessed with realism and wanted to study renaissance artists n get rly good at anatomy #<- then n 2020 i said FUCK!!!!! I HATE THIS FUCK!!!!!#sometimes its good but a lot of high school was feeling fucked up abt my art bc i thought realism made you a good artist and it diesnt #being happy with your art does!!!!!!!!!

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emiliamildner · 10 months

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MILD FOURTH WING SPOILERS BELOW! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

I was meant to draw Violet and Xaden but dragons are still my fav (I kind of feel 15 again with the dragon renaissance, anyone else?). So when I saw a baby tiger playing with its mum's tail, I just had to draw Tairn and Andarna like this.

You can't tell me it's not possible that she played like this when she was younger.

Obvious disclaimer that I'm still not a creature artist. I'm just having fun with this.

Inspired by Tairn and Andarna from Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

‼️ DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION!

#tairn #andarna #fourth wing #rebecca yarros #dragon art #fantasy art #digital painting #book fanart #artists on tumblr #clip studio paint

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tagomago · 2 years

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one thing that really strikes me about anti-intellectualism is that it's just so. self-limiting and sad. like it's a good thing to learn and i feel like we've forgotten it. all this information at our fingertips and people are refusing to use it for the simplest things like when they don't understand one specific word in a text. if something is a tough read it's a moral failing of the author and not an opportunity to build on your own personal knowledge and experiences. it doesn't matter if you think picasso is a renaissance artist because who cares about art history anyway and besides, picasso was a creep, even though it would take a minute to look this up. like obviously there are issues with accessibility in say, access to academia, but some things are genuinely not going to take significant amounts of effort to look up and remember for future. yes it's not a bad thing to not know something already, but a refusal to learn? come on. learning - expanding your knowledge, getting to know more about the world or humanity or art or science or anything - serves you, not some elitist academic in the sky or whatever. whether that's just reading the first paragraph of the wikipedia page for pragmatism or taking three months to read crime and punishment, there's a sense of achievement in the end. and yeah to some extent it's a skill, but it's not a difficult thing to foster and build upon, and sitting around proclaiming how you refuse to learn anything, even the most basic and simple fun facts, due to whatever the excuse of the month is is just so insular. it's a truly wonderful and interesting and diverse world out there and we're letting it all pass us by

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flamingo-writes · 10 months

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A Dinner Invitation — Hobie x Reader

Based off my Gal In The Chair headcannons

Genre: fluff, slice of life. Plotless fluff basically.

Warnings: none. Perhaps cursing? I don’t remember, at this point my brain writes curse words like they’re not actually curse words.

Summary: Miles gets a dinner invitation at Hobie’s universe. Not only Miles walks into Hobie’s home, which is as artistic as he expected, but much greener than he imagined. And there he meets Hobie’s girlfriend, equally artistic, perfectly matching Hobie’s energy. Seeing Hobie so relaxed and affectionate feels weirdly intimate and refreshing to Miles.

Word Count: 1.2K words

A/N: I’ve been daydreaming of all sorts of scenarios revolving the Gal in The Chair. So, be ready for the spam 😩 if you’d like to be tagged, let me know.

“Home, sweet’eart!” Hobie said walking inside the seemingly chaotic place, as Gwen, Pav and Miles followed him.

Miles looked around, surprised by the amount of things lying around. It was chaotic but didn’t look dirty. Almost as if everything had been purposefully place where it was. It was a small apartment with hardly any furniture. But there were art projects, materials and plants everywhere. Plants everywhere. The confusion only seemed to grow with every step, the apartment smelled like a woman lived there, but didn’t smell like Gwen.

And still puzzled by what went on between Hobie and Gwen, specially after he’d said she’d left her jumper, among the things he’d heard, he was sure there was something going on between them. And judging by the apartment, —and the smell of girl’s perfume—, it did seem like Hobie might live with one.

As Miles felt simultaneously more confused and somewhat relieved, he saw Hobie walk up to a girl working on a mannequin, fixing some clothes. He kissed the top of her headache wrapped his arms around her waist.

“That looks cool…” He purred. “Sexy, even…”

The girl giggled and looked over at Hobie as they kissed.

Miles sighed relieved.

“Will you model that for me later today?” Hobie asked with a flirty smirk.

“I can’t. This is a personalised piece Julie asked for…” The girl said looking over her shoulder at Hobie with a gentle smile and loving stare. “How did it go?”

“Messy,” Hobie said letting go of the girl. “awful, but Gwendy and Pav are here and I brought a new friend…” He said.

Pav yelled your name as you put down the needles and pins and greeted Pav in a tight hug. You let out a soft giggle as Pav lifted you up effortlessly, as if it had been ages since he last saw you.

“Who…?” Miles whispered confused.

“Hobie’s girlfriend,” Gwen said.

“A true renaissance artist,” Hobie said before introducing you to Miles, telling him your name. “Buy her stuff. She personalises and fixes your clothes, also does that with secondhand clothes. She also designs them as well as handmade Jewellery. Brings your plants back to health, she also reproduces and sells them, if you ever want to gift your mum some pretty plants or flowers…Helps me setting up my art shows, and set up everything for a gig. She’s also my left hand, best friend, lover, and favourite person on earth,” Hobie said proudly as you blushed lightly as Pav let you go from his tight bear hug.

“I’m not as interesting as Hobes just made me sound…” You said modestly walking up to Miles.

“But she is,” Pav intervened and walked into the kitchen, parading around the place like he lived there.

“I’m…Miles…” He said with an awkward chuckle as he extended his stiff hand towards you.

“Nice meeting you Miles. Coffee? Tea? We also have plain ol’water…Juice…”

“N-no thanks…” Miles chuckled awkwardly. “I’m fine. Thank you…” He said as he looked around. “So you do all of this for a living?”

“Sadly, in this highly capitalist and consumerist society, people do not appreciate the handwork of a true artist…” Hobie said as Miles looked slightly puzzled at him.

“That’s Hobie for, I do this full time even though it’s a lot of stuff, I barely manage to make a living out of this,”

“No way!”

“People don’t buy plants nor get their clothes fixed everyday,” You shrugged.

“Hey!” Pav said defensively as he went into the kitchen.

“Pav always buys plants, though” You chuckled. “Hobie helps me a lot too, the both of us manage to keep this whole place afloat,” You sad looking at Hobie with a dreamy smile.

Hobie from the kitchen looked at you with a cheeky flirty smirk and winked at you.

“Buy your mother a nice set of earrings and a plant, kid…” Hobie told Miles as he walked out of the kitchen with a cup of chai.

“My mother really liked the flowers I bought her last week,” Pav said. “Also the necklace and earrings set you made for her!”

“I’m glad, Pav. You know where to find me…” You said happily as Hobie wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple as he handed you the cup.

“I made some chai, if anyone wants some” Pav said happily.

You took a sip out of Hobie’s mug and hummed.

“God, no matter how many times I do it, it’s never as good as Pav’s…” You sighed softly.

“My man’s got a talent,” Hobie said.

“Gotta go back to that shirt I was working on,” You announced. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”

“Gwendy and I can handle dinner, you go do your thing, luv” Hobie said as he grabbed your jaw in his long fingers and kissed you sweetly. “Call you when it’s done,” He said softly as you hummed and stole one last peck from him before handing him back his cup and went back to the mannequin.

“Can you bring me my own cup of chai?”

“Anything for you, princess,” Hobie said with a soft voice as he turned around and went into the kitchen.

Miles looked at you as you went back to measuring and putting pins on the mannequin. Quickly absorbed by your work.

"Gorgeous, isn’t she?” Hobie said with a proud smirk. "C’mon, y’all wanna have dinner, y’all better help…"

Despite the chatty mess of laughs and sarcastic comments, Miles was still intrigued with how you never seemed to lose focus from your work. Even when they were being crazy loud. Blending naturally into the commotion, Miles felt comfortable between all of them. Wondering whether if it was because they all were spider people, or simply because the over all energy marched his own. He had friends before, but never a group of friends like this one. He felt absolutely free, being able to behave naturally without the fear of being judged or stared at.

Pav took over the kitchen, making most of the work himself. While the food was ready, Pav and Gwen talked about spices as Miles kept looking around intrigued. At some point, Hobie disappeared from the scene, and as Miles was looking for Hobie, his eyes dragging, looking over every detail in the apartment. Eventually, he spotted Hobie’s tall figure towering over you.

As you set down your tools, and Hobie pulled a chair next to you, he cupped your face in his large hands and pulled you close, kissing you sweetly. Something about Hobie being the badass and cool punk, a guy who was seemingly ready to start a coup d’état anywhere, now looked like the biggest softy he’d ever seen, while still looking cool somehow.

Feeling weirdly love sick and jealous, he didn’t intend to stare as Hobie and you kissed. He thought about how good it must be to have what the two of you had. He glanced over at Gwen, feeling his crush poking at him, twisting his guts as Gwen met his stare and smiled. She then looked over at the both of you.

“Aren’t they gross?” Gwen asked with a playful smirk.

“I think they’re cute,” Pav intervened.

Miles chuckled and gazed back at you, as you were now hugging Hobie. Your hand disappearing in his wicks, as his face was nuzzled against the crook of your neck and his arms around your waist.

“I think they’re cute. Perhaps slightly gross…” Miles joked.

“It makes me kinda jealous. I wish I could get the courage to ask Meera out on a date…” Pav sighed.

“We can hear ya talking over ‘ere, lads…” Hobie chuckled.

“You’re so nosy,” You chuckled kissing Hobie’s head.

“We knew that,” He replied as he pulled away from the hug and stared at you, cupping one of your cheeks in his large hand. “Absolutely gorgeous,” He said as he leaned forward and stole a peck from your lips. “How’s dinner, Pav?”

“Basically done. One or two more minutes,” He said.

“C’mon, Miles. Let’s set the table,” Gwen said gently bumping her elbow on Miles’ ribs.

~~~~~~~

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed it! Feedback is also very welcome and always makes my day 🥺

#Hobie Brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spider punk #spider punk x y/n #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie x you

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thelittleukrainianwell-armedgirl · 3 months

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"On 7th of January Ukrainian poet Maksym Kryvtsov and his ginger cat were killed by rssian army on the frontline. He was 33 years old. He was writing poems about the war and his loyal cat friend, while protecting his homeland. He could create so much if russia would not start this unjust horror.

Every time something inside me dies when I see news like this. Every Ukrainian from the beginning of their time in school learns about Executed Renaissance - when on the beginning of 20th century a lot of Ukrainian artists, writers, poets were chased and executed by Soviet Union for creating works in Ukrainian and expressing their national identity. Now it’s happening again, same evil, but under different flag. Besides occupation of our land russia also often talks about how Ukraine is fake country with fake language, they burn our books on occupied territories, mock us, our POWs for the fact we’re ukrainian. They were mocking us even before the invasion, I grew up with watching it on social medias myself. And now a lot of authors can’t create because of the war, russia kills them on frontlines, in their homes, russia purposefully targets objects of civilian infrastructure to leave us without heat and electricity. It pisses me off every time when I see russian “culture” being praised by the foreigners, knowing that it’s made on blood of other nations. Either 100 years ago or now. Because while russian authors can live and create, we have fight for our survival.

Before being killed by russia Maksym published his last poem, where he told about how his body will grow as violets after his death. Every time it’s hard to draw something about the war, I feel literally empty afterwards but I just felt it would be right thing to do. It’s awful that our artists have to go through all of this, so damn unfair, and I keep telling myself that justice is waiting for them but I can’t even imagine what has to happen, everything feels not enough.

Please support Ukrainian authors, until it’s too late."

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bellawoso · 9 days

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love story

aitana bonmati x fem!reader

description: aitana falling for you despite you being quite nerdy when it comes to shakespeare and art. aitana is helplessly failing english lit, in order for you to tutor her she requests for you to come to her matches each weekend, you end up falling for her too.

(kinda unrealistic as i highly doubt aita would take english lit 😭) + ALSO DIEGO MAKES A RETURN!!!

at first the move to barcelona had been scary for you, the new language and culture were unknown territory for you, and you couldnt help but feel lonely with not many people to talk to you in english.

until at a party, you overestimated how much drink you could handle and ended up on the brink of passing out, only to be saved by a random spanish boy you had seen around campus and spoke english.

a new friendship stemmed that night, you and diego were inseparable, even though you owed him one two many times after he saved you from people cursing you out in spanish after you accidentally pissed them off.

that was exactly what had happened now.

you and diego also work at the same art museum, although he often complains about the boredom he experiences there, much to your annoyance. he still continued to work there, the pay is good and you are in your happy zone, excited to spend all of your free time surrounded by one of your favourite subjects.

except for times when you managed to irritate random spanish people. in your defence, the piece of work wasnt that good, and the artist wasnt well known, how were you to know that you were speaking to the artist claiming that there were better pieces that deserved a place in the museum.

the man had gone into a fast paced spanish rant, although you knew some spanish after some time of living in barcelona, you were no where near fluent enough to understand the heavily accented, rapid spanish that fell from his mouth.

diego was very quick to intervene and call security on the man who was now jabbing a finger in your direction, the only word you understood was “puta” after hearing the insult many times from diego to people that annoyed him.

seeing him escorted out, you were quick to flee to your favourite part of the museum, at the east wing of the top floor was a small library filled with copies of old literature, with historic renaissance paintings hanging on the walls.

not many people went in there, it was very well hidden from the public eye, and was out of the way of popular artist exhibitions. however, nothing was too hard to find for a certain brunette midfielder, who was bored out of her mind.

———

today was aitanas day off, when ona gathered her, jana, bruna, pina and patri for a “fun day out” a museum was the last thing she was expecting.

ona was actually enjoying looking around the museum, pina and patri were talking to a group of girls they found “hot”, jana and bruna were raiding the gift shop.

this left aitana bored out of her mind, so she went exploring and ended up on a corridoor that stretched to what looked like a library.

despite english literature being aitanas minor degree, she was actually not that fond of it, much to her parents dismay who had to hear constantly from aitana how she was failing it.

when she walked in, she physically jumped when she saw a girl sat on one of the seats reading some shakespeare play.

if there was one thing aitana despised the most, it was shakespeare, the prospect of learning the plays and writing about them made her want to gauge her eyes out.

she was ready to turn around and beg ona for them to go home, until a soft voice pulled aitana right back to the library.

“hello! can i help you?” upon hearing this, aitana quickly turned back around to match a face to the voice, and was met with you now looking up so she could see your face.

aitana didnt notice that she had zoned out while admiring you, normally she didnt feel this way for anyone. each time pina and patri tried to set her up on a date she was always quick to reject, as in her opinion she had to focus on football. however at this moment, she seemed happy enough to break the no relationships rule for you.

“sorry can i help you?” hearing you once again managed to break aitana from her daze, as she quickly tried to think of a topic that she could strike up a conversation with.

“uhhhh- you like shakespeare?” aitana asked, whilst internally cursing how her voice wobbled as she spoke to you.

“yeah i do! are you a fan of his works? what is your favourite play?”

honestly, aitana had no idea why she chose shakespeare, in fact, she despised the guy who she had to memorise a ton of plays for. however, seeing your entire face light up at the sound of his name could persuade her to talk about him all day.

what aitana hadnt vouched for was you quizzing her on him, i mean, she was failing english lit for gods sake. but if she could just act like she was an expert for long enough for you to be impressed enough to accept her request of a date with you, then it would give her enough time for some quick shakespeare revision before your date.

“i love shakespeare” aitana stated, the link tint of her cheeks only darkening as you smiled upon hearing this, “ i would say that romeo and juliet is my favourite!”

“a classic tradgedy, huh? you like romantic plays?” you asked with a smirk, and aitana tried to rack her brain to figure whether you were flirting with her or not, and made a mental note to somehow improve for the next time she spoke to you.

“yeah, im a massive tragedy fan! another tragedy i love is-“ silence filled the library as aitana desperately tried to think of another tragedy, and felt like hitting herself for not paying more attention in her lectures.

“uhhh- a midsummers night dream?” aitana cringed at how it came out as a question, and blushed fiercely when she heard you giggle.

“although some prospects of the play could be considered a tragedy, a midsummers night dream was actually intended to be a comedy!”, you stated, rambling off about some tragic elements of the play, and aitana never knew that shakespeare could be such a turn on, but maybe it was just the fact that a pretty girl was talking about it, not her old male professor.

after inviting aitana to come sit down with you, and diving into a conversation of plays, both of you hardly noticed how an hour had already passed, although the conversation had mainly been one sided, with you rambling about your favourite plays, aitana enjoyed your company.

that was until ona called aitana asking where she was as they were going, aitana was sad to leave, and noticed you frown a bit as she told you she had to go.

“thankyou for tolerating my rambling about shakespeare, i know you dont actually love it that much.” you said while smiling at the spaniard in front of you.

“huh- what do you mean? i love the guy” aitana argued.

“its fine honestly- i saw your confusion when i was talking about his plays” you laughed.

“okay fine, i might be failing english literature but i definitely learnt some new things while talking to you, so thankyou”

“any time” you responded just as diego ran into the library talking in rapid spanish which you know he only does when hes in a rush, you understood a part when he said “ended 10 minutes ago” which you could only guess he was talking about your shifts. you smiled apologetically at aitana and said goodbye before leaving with diego.

when aitana met up with everyone at the exit, she was bombarded with questions of where she was to which she responded “in the library”

pina was shocked at this answer “the library? you hate books! your failing english for gods sake! what were you doing there?”

“well- there was this girl-”

“a girl! there you have it! little aitana here has a crush! she must really love her if she spent an hour in a library with her!”

“shut up patri!” aitana scowled “ we were talking about shakespeare!”

“shakespeare?! do you feel ill tana, can you go to training tomorrow? ona i think she is ill” patri teased.

aitana only stormed off after shooting one last glare at the group before returning to the car.

the teasing didnt stop there though, as soon as the others got to the car, she was met with relentless bullying the whole way back to campus about how “whipped” she is.

but also she realised something on her was back, she had forgotten to ask for your name and she has also never given you her name, which put her in a grumpy mood for the rest of the night before deciding it was fate, and a sign that she should be focusing on football.

———

aitana however, was actually wrong that you didnt know who she was. it was part of the reason you knew she didnt actually like shakespeare. diego was a big fan of football and followed the schools girls football team who were quite popular amongst the school.

he dragged you to many of their matches whenever you had the time, and therefore you had seen the brunette midfielder quite a lot.

you werent surprised when diego dragged you to yet another one of their matches a few weeks later, you were both sat down when diego announced he was going to get a coffee, and with promises to get you a tea and some chocolate, he left.

while he was gone, both university teams started doing warmups, and you couldnt keep your eyes away from a certain brunette midfielder, who honestly looked too good today.

“careful, your drooling amiga! i didnt know footballers were your type”

“jesus diego! and theyre not, i was simply looking at number 14, i was talking to her a few weeks ago in the museum.”

“you were speaking to aitana! and you didnt think to call me?!”

the truth was, members of the football team were very popular, they were nice and would greet you if you said hello, but their main friends were in the football team, so you didnt really see them hanging around with other people. lots of students had slight crushes on certain members, much like yours on aitana.

you werent listening to diegos lecture though, as your eyes drifted to aitana again, the extra gym sessions she had been doing really paid off, and when she lifted up her training top to wipe the layer of sweat from her face, you wouldnt be surprised if you fainted there and then.

what you werent expecting were for her eyes to scan the crowd and land on you, seeing her point and wave at you with a smirk on her face made you glad you were sat, you knew if you were stood up your knees would have buckled under you immediately.

seeing you blush and send aitana a wave back was all of the confirmation diego needed to know that aitana just waved at you.

“did she just wave at you? y/n have you pulled aitana? how?! did you recite some shakespeare love quote or something?! do you like her? oh my god- you do! your blushing!” diego was spiralling, aitana was known for not dating or flirting, unlike many of her teammates who were known for flirting and dating a lot. so seeing her waving at you made diego unfocused for the entirety of the match, as he thought of how he was going to get you two together.

however, he didnt exactly need to, as you and him were seated quite close to the pitch, when the match ended both of you saw aitana call you over with a wave of her hand.

you werent sure how it was possible for her to look this good after a match, but as you approached the railing she was leant against you suddenly became very self aware of the blush that coated your cheeks.

“hey, your from the museum, right? i never actually got the chance to ask for your name.” aitana said, her eyes roaming appreciatively over your body.

“yeah, im y/n, you must be aitana, you played very well today, you have been revising some shakespeare?” you laughed as you saw the teasing frown that appeared on aitanas face, “shakespeare in my opinion writes very boring things!” aitana argued.

you put a hand over your heart and gasped in mock offence, “aitana youre hurting my heart, talking about the greatest play writer of all time!”

but before aitana could respond, pina and patri bounded over to her and slung an arm round her neck, they recognised you from the museum, and in their minds came to aitanas rescue to help her ask you out.

“hello! your y/n right? i think you were at janas dorm once doing art, correct me if i am mistaken” patri said, “yes i have been, its nice to meet you!” you replied as diego handed you yet another cup of tea.

“i hear you are very good at english literature? you know, aitana is in desperate need of a tutor!” pina stated while wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, making aitana smack her on her arm.

“ignore her! her mum dropped her on her head as a baby!” aitana joked making you laugh and reply “its fine! i dont mind tutoring you if you need it aita?”

upon hearing her nickname fall from your lips aitana couldnt help but smile bashfully and blush like a little girl with her first crush, much to her teammates amusement.

“uh- yes! yes- definately, i would love that, can i have your number? to schedule a time that is! or not- if you dont want to, or if you changed your mind! no pressure y/n- “

you smiled at aitanas almost incoherrent rambling, “aita, i want to tutor you, honestly. can i get your phone to put my number in?”

aitana quickly pushed her phone in to your hands before you could change your mind, and as soon as you typed in your number, sprinted off with a quick goodbye.

———

you and aitana scheduled your tutor sessions every tuesday and thursday, the days aitana didnt have training or matches. however, the study sessions werent going as planned, as aitana could not concentrate at all. you werent sure why, and obviously aitana would never dare admit that she was daydreaming about you, with you right in front of her.

you felt hopeless, you loved aitana, you really did, she spoke to you as well when she saw you around school, except that was it, you longed for so much more with the brunette, unknown to you that aitana felt the same way.

after a month of tutoring, aitana could still not pass an english literature test, she knew that you would confront her about it soon, you had dedicated a lot of time tutoring her after all.

“aitana i dont get it! i mean- you say you need a tutor but then you dont concentrate at all, you failed another test! do i bore you during these, what can i do for you to listen?” you said exasperatedly, aitana knew you had every right to be mad at her, to anyone else it looked like she wasnt trying at all.

“no of course your not boring me y/n, you would never!”

“tana, should i change the length of these sessions, are they too long, and making you tired? i understand if its too much?”

“no, no they are fine, i have one idea in mind though”, this was it, aitana planned on asking you something she had been mustering up the courage for a while to do ever since you had stopped accompanying diego to the matches, caught up in studying.

“uh- you could come to my matches each sunday? maybe in my jersey.” aitana asked sheepishly. you however, choked on your water as soon as you heard her request, i mean, was that not a couple thing to do?

“uh- sure aita, if that would make you concentrate on english literature more!” you paused as you quickly thought of an excuse to get out of the library to recollect your thoughts, “can we please cut this session a little short, i promised diego i would go for a coffee with him!”

“oh okay, bye y/n see you on sunday!”

after saying goodbye to aitana, you rushed to diegos room, telling him about aitanas request, although his reaction didnt match your panicked state, as he immediately started laughing.

“finallyyy amiga! i was wondering when one of you would make the first move!”

“diego your not helping! what do i do?!”

“you should probablyy… go to the match and wear the jersey?” diego said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, whilst rolling his eyes.

“everyone will see, its a thing couples do, everyone will think that we are together” you said, “you say it like its a bad thing y/n, if i were you, i wouldnt be mad if people thought i was with aitana bonmati” diego argued.

“whatever” you huffed also rolling your eyes at him “you will come to the match with me though, aitana texted me saying she got front row seats for us”

“obviously im going y/n, i guess now your girlfriend has got us good seats i owe the favour of being your drink refiller?”

“you were going to refill my drinks anyway, and shes not my girlfriend diego!”

“whatever you say”

———

it was match day, as promised you were wearing one of aitanas jersey which the midfielder had dropped off for you earlier this morning. you had already gotten quite a few dirty looks from people who you could only assume were aitanas “fangirls”. the dirty looks only got worse when during warm ups aitana came over to you, and leant over the railing, holding your jaw to move your head to the side so she could whisper something in your ear.

diego, who had gone to get you a tea when this interaction took place, only saw the two of you from far away, and from a distance, it honestly looked like aitana was kissing your neck.

“woah amiga what was that? you never told me you two had sorted your feelings out, was she kissing you?” diego exclaimed as soon as aitana was called back over to get ready for kickoff.

“what? we werent kissing! she was just telling me something!”

“sure y/n, sure”

the game had started, and a brunette midfielder on the pitch couldnt seem to keep their eyes off you. however, it wasnt aitana. a girl off of the rival team seemed to be flirting with you from on the pitch, as diego said.

it wasnt only the two of you that had noticed too, it was hard for aitana to not notice, especially when the girl scored and pointed at you in the stands.

this only fuelled aitana more to win, but jealousy once again overcame her when she saw the girl blow a kiss to you, so when the girl next had the ball, aitana quickly slid into her, completely taking her out and earning herself a yellow card in the process.

the short lecture that aitanas captain was giving her went in one ear and out of the other, as aitanas eyes had already drifted to you, both of you locked eye contact and you couldnt help but laugh and shake your head at the midfielder, who smiled at seeing your laughter.

in aitanas opinion, if she couldnt injure the girl anymore, she might as well embarrass her on the pitch. the rest of the match was filled with aitana nutmegging, and skilling the poor girl who flirted with you. the spaniard relished in the feeling of dribbling straight past the girl, and ended up scoring two goals, and after each one she pointed at you.

at the end of the match, she ran straight over to you, who was already stood up and leant against the railing.

“y/n i just wanted to thank you again for coming, you dont have to do this again next week, i know that football does bore you a bit.”

“no tana, i enjoyed it really, you played so well and im so proud of you!”

“you will come again next week?”

“of course i will, now you should go celebrate the win with the team.” you said, realising that most of the team were soaking up the glory of winning, and aitana was missing it, “also, would you want to go get a coffee with me next week, theres a new cafe that opened up near campus?”

“i would love to aita, message me the details?”

“i will tonight! bye y/n, and bye diego!” however a poke in your side from diego reminded you of exactly what he wanted you to do, and you knew you would be bullied relentlessly by him all night if you didnt, so you grabbed aitanas arm before she could run to her teammates, and pressed your lips to hers.

as you looped your arms round the midfielders neck, you felt her smile into the kiss, before pressing her tongue to your lips, eliciting a soft gasp from you which aitana silenced with her lips, you pulled away from the kiss when you began to feel lightheaded, and you werent sure if it was due to the lack of oxygen or that you were just kissing aitana.

“bye aitana” you said with a wave before pressing your lips on her cheek, as a more pg way of saying goodbye.

aitana ended up passing english literature.

———

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