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obsessivevoidkitten · 6 months

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A Day In Blood-Swell Swamp

Yandere Frog Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, non-human genitalia, oviposition, general yandere behavior, misunderstanding, reader stuck in mud) Word Count: 1.7k (The yandere in this is a cinnamon roll. A real sweetie. Needed another one like him. He misread the reader's intent and is not at all a bad guy. Really hope you guys like him)

You were an artist on a mission. You were traveling all over your country to sketch the flora, fauna, and landscapes of various habitats. You had already visited several different forests and a couple of prairies.

Now you found yourself in Blood-Swell Swamp. The waters of the swamp were a deep red color. Many people in nearby towns were superstitious about the place and its odd colored water, but you knew it was just a combination of iron filled water and algae.

You rowed the tiny boat you had purchased and found a dry outcrop of trees overlooking the water logged scenery.

When you looked at the impressive sanguine waters and wetland forest sprawling out in front of you, you knew you had made the right decision.

You got out and tied the boat to a tree, the waters were still, but better safe than sorry.

Once you decided on a good spot to look at you pulled out your sketchbook. The first thing you sketched was a frog on a lily pad beside a blooming water lily. The next thing was a cluster of unique purple flowers.

After that you began the larger task of drawing the landscape as a whole.

You had just about finished when you heard a splash and then an enthusiastic male voice behind you.

"HI!!!"

You turned around and almost fell over. If the sudden presence of an unknown man behind you hadn’t been enough to scare you, the fact that he wasn’t human would have.

He was crouched down on very athletic looking legs, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had long webbed toes and fingers that matched, though he only had four fingers. His mouth was a bit too long and his eyes were large and purple. He was a bit shorter than you but he clearly had a strong and compact body.

But the most odd thing was the color of his skin. He was a deep cherry red with the color transitioning into blue on his arms and legs past his elbows and knees.

His medium length black hair dripped as he tilted his head and spoke again.

“Hello? Are you okay? What are you doing?”

You collected yourself, still frightened by his appearance despite his so far friendly demeanor.

“Uh…”

“Are you okay??”

You flinched backwards as he stepped towards you. He stopped approaching as he noticed you were uncomfortable.

“I just… never saw a… what you are before…”

“Oh! Well I am a frogkin. I have seen a human or two before, but only from a distance.”

You were about to respond but he cut you off, he seemed to be really excited to have someone to chat with.

“My name is Cobi, what’re you called?”

You mentally scolded yourself for your rude and frightened demeanor and forced yourself to calm down and introduce yourself. You were in his territory after all, and he had been nothing but polite to you. You gave him your name and explained to him that you were an artist there to sketch the beauty of the swamp. You showed him your sketches.

“Oh wow, we don’t have any artists here. I have never even heard of sketches. We have some wall paintings in some of our huts, but nothing like this!”

The frog man was clearly impressed.

“Oh, I couldn’t live without being able to draw all the beauty around me. Hey, could I draw you? Just a quick sketch!”

If the skin on his face wasn’t already red you would have been able to see that he was blushing. If you drew beautiful things then that must mean you thought he was beautiful. The notion made his heart flutter.

“S-sure!” Cobi said in his ever chipper voice.

You spent some time sketching him, despite your original plan to get just a quick one in, he happily let you get a couple extra. One with him in the water and one of him crouched on a dead log.

When you finished your sketching you fished some sandwiches out of your backpack and offered one to Cobi. He took it and sniffed inquisitively trying to figure out what it was.

“It’s food, it’s called a sandwich.” You took a few bites of yours and then he took a few cautious nibbles before his eyes lit up and he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once. You had to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you, that was super yummy!"

Cobi was blushing more. You drew him because you thought he was beautiful. Attractive. And now you gave him food. Surely that meant you were interested in him right? People of the swamp didn’t just give food away! You gave food to those you liked. Friends, family, and potential mates you were courting!

Even if it was subconscious you probably were trying to court him. And he really wanted to explore the possibility of being your partner too, you were so kind and interesting.

But he didn't want to jump the gun and assume before he had a bit more solid evidence. So instead of asking or acting on what he felt all the evidence pointing to he just hung around and chatted with you a bit more while you finished your meal.

You finished your food slowly, enjoying your time getting to know the inquisitive frogkin. You answered all of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of questions.

When you finished and said your goodbyes he seemed sad, but you were a traveler. You couldn't really make lasting friendships. And then, when you started to get up, you fell right over your own feet. Your arm stuck in some thick mud with your face low to the ground and your ass pointed up.

And that was all the confirmation Cobi needed. Ass up and presenting. The universal signal to breed!

If you had been able to see his face you would have seen that he was flustered beyond measure. You were also far too preoccupied to notice what Cobi was muttering.

"Oh... well I thought that maybe you just wanted to c-court and get to know one another better... I thought.. I j-just um... well it's just that... I-I have never even done it before... but... it seems like you really want to..."

Despite it being a bit fast he supposed he had become quite smitten with you. And, well, maybe humans coupled faster than frogkin. And he really didn't want to hurt you or offend you!

"O-okay, I'll do it!" He exclaimed loudly.

You were finally almost out of the muck and were about to ask him what he was going to do when he suddenly pulled your pants down and slid his huge tongue right into your entrance. You shuddered in shock and ended up with both hands stuck in the mud.

"Wh-what are you doing!?"

Cobi wasn't paying any attention to your words, not as lost in his efforts to loosen up your hole in preparation for the main event as he was. He gripped your legs with his webbed hands as his tongue probed you as deeply as possible, kneading and throbbing and gently stretching out your insides.

The pleasure was indescribable. You wanted Cobi to stop, but time you tried to articulate a protest the only sound you managed to produce was a loud moan or gasp.

And of course the only possible reaction Cobi could have to that was to think that he was doing a great job making his new mate nice. And he wanted to feel good with you.

He removed the slimy tongue from your entrance and removed his loincloth. Cobi then aligned his engorged cock and drew circles against it with before tip before slowly sinking into your tight heat. He had held reservations about making love to you so soon into courting, but now that he was inside you the last of them had melted away.

"Oh, oh, ooohh, you feel so amazing! I-i think you were meant for this pretty artist~"

Much in the same way that your resolve had melted away under the burning flood of pleasure Cobi was drowning you in. Judging by how it felt it was no human cock. It was much longer, a little thicker, and felt a bit slimy. With every thrust you lost a bit more of yourself until you were moving back against his movements, desperately trying to chase the orgasm you were building up to.

You had just come here to help along your art and now here you were in the mud mounted like a bitch in heat and enjoying it. It would have been humiliating if you had the capacity to dwell on such matters.

There were more important things to think about right now. Like the cock breeding you. The feel of unnaturally heavy nuts smacking into you. The soft and attentive lips kissing up your backside, straining to reach your neck.

You arched your back as you had the most mind shattering climax of your life.

"I can't hold back anymore. You sketched for me. L-let me just paint your insides for you~"

And then you learned why his nuts felt so heavy as they slammed against you. As he filled you he deposited much more than just normal cum. Over dozens of small round objects flooded into you and adhered themselves to your walls.

"Wh-what the?"

Cobi plucked you out of the mud with ease and pulled you into his lap as he sat down, with his prick still buried snugly inside of you. He held you close to his sweaty body and caressed your belly lovingly.

Now that you had a moment to process your predicament and the events that had just transpired you were completely dumbfounded. One moment you were trying to get out of the mire and the next you were being fucked.

"I'm so glad you wanted to be mates~"

Your mind was reeling trying to come up with a response to such an outrageous claim. When had you expressed anything resembling such a des-

"Mmmm~" Instead you could only reply with a pathetic pleased whimper as Cobi began rolling his hips, grinding into you and very slowly fucking you for a second time.

"Don't worry, I have plenty more eggs just for my sweet artist~"

You could only lean back against him and drool as he wrapped his arms around you possessively and temporarily fucked your mind away once more.

#yandere #yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #male yandere x gn reader #My ocs #My OC Cobi

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multiverse-menagerie · 8 months

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Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?

I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss

Gale

At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter

He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby

Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”

He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining

Shadowheart

As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure

shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings

Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off

Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again

Astarion

STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??

recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked

It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages

If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)

Wyll

He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to

when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered

He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns

Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)

Karlach

Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it

If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped

Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes

jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”

Lae’zel

She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything

But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised

Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.

Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.

Halsin

At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work

When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.

Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out

You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair

#baldurs gate x reader #gale x reader #astarion x reader #karlach x reader #wyll x reader #Lae’zel x reader #halsin x reader #shadowheart x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

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bruisedboys · 6 months

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reader and peeta showering together after a hard day (just some innocent intimacy nothing suggestive) 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love this man sm 😭🤞🏻🤞🏻

!!!!!! thank you for the req angel <3 this inspired me so so much! thanks for kickstarting my writing for peeta era hehe

peeta mellark x fem!reader 16+ please for non-sexual nudity. not really in universe but can read as post mockingjay if you want it to!

Peeta’s sketching on the bed when you come inside. One knee propped up with his back against the wall behind the bed, his sketchbook pressed against his thigh. His golden hair falls over his forehead, messy where he’s been too distracted by his drawing to push it back.

He looks up when you enter, smiling a bruising smile you don’t feel deserving of.

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” It’s alarming how quickly he sets aside his book and pencil to reach for you, as if he hadn’t been immersed in his sketching mere seconds ago. “C’mere, I missed you.”

As much as you’d like to be wrapped in his strong arms right now, you’re filthy, and he’s just changed the sheets earlier today.

“I can’t. I’m all dirty, see?” You wiggle your dirt-covered hands at him. You’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Time drifted away from you as you planted a new batch of tomato seeds. By the time you were done, the sun was setting and you hadn’t even realised. Your knees are stained dark brown and you’ve got dirt up to your elbows. “I’ll shower first, then we can cuddle. Sorry, baby.”

Peeta looks decidedly put out. You turn away from him before he can convince you any further, because you know if he looks at you like that for much longer you’ll give in. You pull fresh clothes from your side of the dresser and then move down the hallway to the bathroom.

The showers warming up and you’re starting to undress when Peeta knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and he doesn’t have to, but he knocks anyway.

“It’s me,” he says. Who else would it be? You think. Silly man. “Can I come in?”

You pull the door open for him instead of answering. You’re halfway out of your clothes but it doesn’t phase him. Sure, he looks, but not for long, and not in a way that would suggest anything other than affection.

“Hey,” he says. He pushes the door closed behind him. The shower runs in the background, a peaceful thrum. “Do you mind if I join you? You can say no.”

You huff a soft laugh. He should know by now that saying no to him is a near impossible feat. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”

You finish undressing quickly, eager to be clean and warm. Peeta leaves to get fresh towels while you hop in under the hot spray. The majority of the dirt on your skin has been rinsed by the time he gets back. You hear him moving around the bathroom for a minute or so before he pulls the shower curtain aside. You let him in, moving aside to make space for him. It’s tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Weirdly, it’s almost a perfect fit for the two of you.

Peeta moves under the shower head and the water quickly drenches one half of his hair and one of his shoulders. His big hand slides over your hip and he carefully moves you into a position where you’ve both got equal spray.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s so close you could count his freckles, each light brown spot scattered across his collarbones.

“Hello,” you say back. His thumb rubs your hipbone, up down, up down. “Is it too warm?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

You smile and touch your palm to his cheek. “You okay?” You’re not asking because he seems out of sorts. You’re asking because you want to know, and if he’s not he’ll tell you. He does the same for you. It’s just how you love each other.

Peeta nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. How did your gardening go?”

You beam. You love that he cares about what you care about. “Good. We’ll have tomatoes growing out of our ears by summer, I think.”

Peeta laughs. It’s a brilliant sound that bounces off the shower walls and warms your chest. “Awesome,” he grins. Then, “Hey, you’ve got dirt under your ear.” He reaches behind you to grab the flannel hanging on the shower caddy. “Look that way for me?”

He holds you still with a hand at your jaw and rubs the dirt from your skin so gently you barely feel it. His touch is like a magnet — you’re drawn to it over and over again, no matter how generously he gives it to you. When he asks if he can wash your hair, you’d be crazy if you said no.

“Yeah, please,” you tell him, past caring how desperate and needing of his touch and love you are. He knows, anyway.

Peeta turns you by the hips so your back is to him, then gently tilts your head backwards. You hand him your shampoo and he squeezes a dollop onto his hands, rubbing his palms together before spreading the bubbles over the top of your head. He’s very, very gentle with it, much more than you’ve ever been, massaging the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into your hair, fingers rubbing circles onto your scalp. His dedicated touch, along with the gentle thrum and warmth of the shower spray, is enough to almost put you to sleep.

“Okay, you can rise now,” Peeta speaks up. His tone is soft and you suspect he’s noticed your sleepiness. He gets very soft with you when you’re tired. “Shut your eyes, please.”

You do as he says and he directs you under the spray. He holds a hand over your forehead like a barrier so the bubbles can’t escape and sneak into your closed eyes. The action in itself makes your chest ache. He cares more than you could ever comprehend.

When he’s done rinsing you finish scrubbing the dirt from your knees, your elbows. Peeta washes his own hair, and you help him rinse the same way he did for you.

“Thank you, angel,” he says. Warm water and soapy bubbles stream over his shoulders, his neck. His eyelashes are wet, clinging to each other in sparkly triangles. He dips down and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek. “Love you.”

You beam. You love him more than anything. You get on your toes to kiss him properly, a warm press of your mouth on his, a promise for more of the same later, when you’re clean and dry and fed. “Love you too, Peeta.”

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

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lil-artist-blog-fandoms-ocs · 2 years

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Why can't I just do things *sigh*

#mun talks #work is exhausting #and I'm also sick #I'm looking at the draft of the new chapter #it's there it's almost finished #but it's been days since I've done anything with it #art too #i have a few ideas #but every time I look at my sketchbook it's just a brain fart

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fraugwinska · 1 month

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Follow up idea to the person who suggested that lovely birthday doodle request,, Reader who can draw proficiently as a hobby and often sketches folks at the hotel in their sketch book. Alastor is a bit offended that no matter what it seems as though he’s no where in this book, when they retire for the night he brings it up almost as if he’s jealous and they laugh at him. He’s upset because now he feels as though they are making fun of him until they retrieve another book and turns out they draw him in privacy (he’s so special he has his own book) It’s so cute too theres little heart doodles and them holding hands everywhere

Darling, how can I say no to 1) you *handheart* and 2) to such a cute pürompt? Make way, guys, gals and non-binary pals, here comes the fluff-queen!

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Pictures of You

“ME NEXT! ME NEXT!” You tugged your sketchbook out of Niffty's small but surprisingly strong fingers. The little demon giggled and almost fell from your shoulder, making you laugh.

“Niff, any more doodles of you and I'd have to pay you royalties. Also, Angel asked first.”

You grinned, turning another page of the thick binder to an empty canvas and twirled the coal pen in your hand. Husk had just involuntarily changed his sleeping position from 'face in hands' to 'face on counter', groaning at the impact, so you wanted to start anew. Niffty resumed to braid your hair – you often let her just do what she wanted, she had a knack for it anyways – and huffed. “You only want to draw him because he can do impossible poses.” “Well, he is flexible.”

“Comes with the job, sweet cheeks.” Angel, who had entered through the door, grinned at you, taking his pink heart-shaped sunglasses off while he walked behind you, leaning over your shoulder. “Aw, toots, you really are talented, Husky looks like a snack there. Can I have that when 'ya done?”

“Have what, my effeminate fellow?” Angel jumped as Alastor materialized behind him without warning, releasing a startled 'Jesus Christ on a cracker!' while his lower set of arms clung onto your tensed shoulders. The radio demon laughed heartily, bending over slightly to look past Angel's head. He craned his neck and reached with his cane, forcing you to lean sideways so he could examine what you were drawing.

You flinched at the contact with the strangely warm metal, but didn't look up from the page. You only gripped the black coal tighter, feeling it beginning to crack. Alastor hummed in what sounded almost fond praise, giving a brief tap to Husk's shape on the paper.

"Marvelous! What a talent you have." he proclaimed. "Although I have to ask again, my dear, how come you never draw me? Surely I could..."

You lifted a finger, face scrunched up in concentration and shook your head, eyes firmly on the almost finished sketch. Alastor clicked his tongue in a displeased way, clawed fingers impatiently tapping the microphone at the end of his cane.

"Really, dearest. I have a great interest for-"

"Hold on!"

"-a unique idea of the possibilities-"

"Done!"

As you finished, you stretched your cramped hand, setting down the charcoal on the armrest of the red plush sofa and rubbing your fingers to get rid of the black stains. You ripped the paper out of the sketchbook and handed it to Angel, carefully avoiding Alastors burning eyes and ignoring the angry static pops sizzling on your skin.

"There you go, Ange. You can lock it in with a little coat of hairspray, otherwise it will smudge easily."

You hastily stood up, letting Niffty tumble down your back onto the sofa with a wild giggle while you quickly assembled your things. You saw Alastor open his mouth and interrupted whatever speech he might've wanted to deliver you, your heart racing and mouth unusually dry.

"Oh, would you look at the time, I promised Charlie to get laundry done by the evening, I better get going. Maybe another time, yeah? Okay, bye!"

You were already through the door by the time he had registered you leaving, mouth half-open and ready to protest against whatever injustice he felt you had done him. His eyebrow twitched slightly at your retreating figure, eyes flickering between the corner you disappeared around and Angel Dust, the latter laughing mockingly at the deer.

"Aw shucks, failing again, deer daddy? What is it now, the fifth time she blew 'ya off?"

"The seventh.", Niffty corrects him, scratching on the black spot where you had set the charcoal in between your work. Alastor gave her a sour expression, while Angel leaned back, eyeing the sketch of his subject of interest with lovingly.

"Maybe she took 'ya by heart, Smiles. Don't 'ya always say 'ya got a face for radio only?"

***

Alastor was fuming.

Everyone was in that damn book, everyone. And yet, he was nowhere in it to be found.

In his opinion he was far superior in beauty of aesthetics then, for example, Angel Dust, or Vaggie. Hell, Husk had even made an entry, and all he did was lay around and drink himself into oblivion. Why would you take the time to sketch these nobodies in detail instead of him? Was he that unimportant to you, did you deem him that unworthy? Or was this your subtle way of making fun of his appearance, his laughable predicament of being a predator in a prey body?

He thought he'd have been generous enough not to reprimand you, or destroy that damned book all together after all this time. It was your luck that he had developed a strange fondness of you. Alastor only ever bothered himself with a few souls since his arrival in hell, and his encounter with you was a happy coincidence indeed. You were so much less annoying, so much more quiet and respectful than most of the demons around him, with your charcoal pen behind your ear and a keen eye for beautiful things that you turned into artworks like it was your second nature.

And even though you've always seemed to take a liking to him, his patient questions for a sketch, a portrait or just anything of him was met by you with dismissiveness, awkward excuses or outright evading, only ever drawing other sinners, even the cursed piglet Angel called a pet. But never, never him.

This couldn't go on any longer. He would talk to you about it, and either you would draw him willingly or you would draw nothing at all.

Your room was located only three corridors down his own suite, right across of a broken down door. Despite the late hour you had left the door cracked open, music faintly streaming through it along the orange light of your desk lamp. Which meant you were still awake. Still working. Still drawing.

The door made no sound when he pushed it open, carefully peeking his head inside. He was right, your back was hunched over your desk, completely lost in your work while your voice hummed along with the little melody from the radio.

The radio he had gifted you. He snapped his fingers and the music screeched loudly before coming to a stop, the radio dying instantly and making you jump in your seat.

"JESUS!" You whipped your head around, clutching your heart. He gave his best charming smile, red eyes narrowing in on you.

"No dear, it's just me." he smiled maliciously and closed the door behind him, it clicking ominously shut. Locked. You laughed awkwardly, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face and hastily closed the thick, black sketchbook on the desk shut, a different one than the one from before. A new one. Another cursed one without him in it, surely.

"Haha, thank satan, I'm not dressed to meet the son of god." you quibbed, avoiding his gaze and twirling your pencil, something you always did when you were nervous.

He didn't join into your joke, instead he walked over to your dresser, where the filled sketchbook from before laid. Open, showing a detailed drawing of Keekee stretching in front of the fireplace. The blasted cat was the last straw.

"Why," Alastor spoke sharply, barely registering his antlers sprouting in angry cracks, "are there any and every sinners and creatures depicted in that... doggone, ridiculous thing?".

His words were spat with so much anger he missed your scared and confused look when you pushed your chair back, almost tripping and scrambling to get away. "What? Alastor, I..."

He hit the book once, almost tearing the thick parchment. "And not one mention of me? You have no idea how utterly vexing and insulting it is to feel ignored, or rather unnoted! What did I do, oh do tell, dear, that makes you think of me so below you that you just outright forget my existence?!"

Again, he hit the book, feeling it starting to rip from the amount of pent up frustration tightening his grip. But it did feel good, immensely so, to take it out on the damn thing he would have shredded weeks ago, if you didn't enjoy it so much.

"N-Nothing, you really don't... you don't understand...", you laughed nervously, eyes too pleading, too soft for his liking, as if you mocked him or worse: Pitied him. The thought alone fueled his anger further.

"Then I advise you to make me understand, my darling.", he growled, shoes scratching on the wooden floors with each step as he neared you, pressing you against the desk. "Because otherwise, I have no inhibitions to incinerate every single one of these god damn..."

"I draw you all the time. In your own book."

You grabbed the sketch book from the desk and thrust it in his face, spouting more nonsense with teary eyes that went deaf through his ears, only glaring at the cover and then opening it, ready for anything.

Nothing. Nothing but him.

There was no mention of anyone else.

There was nothing but him. His face. Portraits, stills, sketches, whole sceneries, doodles even.

Pages and pages full of his own features, his eyes looking back at him, so carefully captured in coal lines that his head reeled.

There he was, walking in long strides through the lobby, hair perfect and suit straight, the drawing so detailed it could've been a photography. On the other side was a picture of him, his eyes narrowed, showing no emotion as he stared down at the hotel papers in his hand. The next page, he was captured in a fight with that buffoon Sir Pentious, his is mouth cracked in an evil smile, claws stretched and ready to snap the snakes' airship in half.

And ever in between those artworks: Little doodles, as if drawn with an absent mind, of him and you. Holding hands. Embracing each other. Laughing together. Gazing into each others eyes. Silly hearts all around them.

Alastor almost dropped the book and the shakily uttered your name, for once truly at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Alastor...", he finally heard your muttering, voice trembling with tears. "I didn't know how... I was just... so... so embarrassed, and..."

Embarrassed. The absolute absurdity of it all.

Here he had been, worried you found him beneath the beauty you held in such esteem, wounded even so much as to bring out this unjustified anger. The fool he was. He was an idiot to have not considered the other possible explanations for your reticence.

Slowly, carefully, as if you'd spook and run should he move too fast, Alastor wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, still holding the book safely in his hand, pressing it into your back. At his will, his shadow lifted a hand and turned the radio on once again, a low hum resounding from the speakers as the soothing, quiet music continued.

"Mon cœur, the unnecessary pain you caused us both. And yet, I'm the one who has to apologize.", he said with an honesty he rarely spoke with. "We're both, evidently, quite hopeless. No use in keeping these feelings and words unsaid any longer then, hm? Can you forgive this old fool?"

You stared at him bewildered, at a loss for words yourself, before a relieved smile cracked your worried frown. Shiny tear streaks were running over your reddening cheeks, he wiped them off your face with a soft swipe of his thumb.

"Of course... As long as I can continue drawing you." You chuckled and pushed your face into his chest, Alastor was more than certain to hide the flush of your cheeks. He chuckled, gripping the book in his hands tighter as he buried his nose in your hair. You smelled like paper, paint and charcoal. And underneath it all lingered the scent of something new, yet familiar. Something... very much like him.

"Draw the both of us like this to perfection, darling, and that would be a deal worth to agree on."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #hazbin hotel niffty #quick fic #oh so fluffy #i love ieatcocoa #fraugwinskas frauchen

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sepptember · 2 months

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𝐃𝐄𝐖𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 :: miles morales

pairing :: miles morales x gn!reader.

content warning(s) :: none!

sypnosis :: miles is spending the evening with you, the tv playing in the background. he decides you look pretty on paper. requested here.

word count :: 0.587k

Miles loves rainy days, but he loves them more with you—the soft hum of your tv playing as your fairy lights add a soft warmth to your bedroom, the rain drumming against the window.

You look beautiful, undone for the night, wearing the matching pajamas you insisted on buying the both of you. He loves seeing you relaxed. He loves the calm you bring after a long day that he melts into. He loves you.

And maybe that's what compels him to grab his sketchbook from his backpack, taking out his pencils and markers. He takes in the details of your face, following the edges of your nose, your eyes glowing in the reflection of your lights and the tv. He copies every one of them on the paper. You occupy numerous pages in his sketchbook already—what’s wrong with another?

It's rough at first, a loose sketch of the more vague pieces of you and the window in the background. Miles takes in the different colors, the warmth of the room bouncing off your skin, and the changing colors of the scenes, and he mimics them with his pencils and markers.

Miles steals you from the world. He swiftly curls your image into his fingers and lays you flat on the paper, carefully tucking you away before the world can steal you back. He will have that peaceful picture of you forever, and Miles wants the world to be jealous of that. He wants it to envy him for being able to keep that exact moment of you forever because the world only got it for a second.

The show is a few more episodes in when he finishes—you've changed positions, your head resting on your mountain of stuffed animals and blankets, but he still managed to copy you perfectly.

“Miles,” You say, his eyes moving from his sketchbook and up to you. Your eyes are slightly droopy, your voice just slightly a grumble. “What're you drawing?”

The way you say drawing makes him feel like a kindergartener with crayons. Suddenly, his art has become a scribbled stick figure. “Just a doodle.”

“Can I see?” You ask, and it feels like it'd be illegal to say no—even though he knows you'd completely understand if you did. He hands you the open book with a hint of embarrassment. He's sketched you so many times before but rarely shows them to you. He worries you'll think they're terrible.

You grab it as if it will tear at the seams if you're not delicate, but you beam when you finally see the page. You pull it onto your lap, taking in every little detail, completely mesmerized in a way Miles wasn't expecting.

“Oh my god,” You say, the smile growing, and Miles wants to copy that onto paper, too. “This is amazing, Miles. Really.”

He can't help the way he smiles at your compliment. It's an ego booster, almost. His parents have showered him with comments about his creativity, but they've never affected him much because they're his parents. Yet when you say it, it's something completely different. He values your opinion and cradles every comment you have close to his heart. “Do you have more? Not one of me! Just more art you'd be okay with letting me see.”

“You can flip through all of it. I don't mind.” He says, scooting closer to you. You grin again, and he swears it's the prettiest thing in the world, and he knows it will look just as pretty on paper.

reblogs > likes!! thank you for reading. <3 requests are open!

#august writes.#miles morales :: august edition.#miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #atsv x y/n #miles morales x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #atsv x reader #atsv x you #itsv x reader #miles morales imagine

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luveline · 10 months

Note

Lovely Jade maybe you could write something about Roan finding a kitten on the street and hiding it in her backpack

🧡.

thank you so much for your request! eddie and roan —roan's acting suspicious. you and eddie investigate. stepmom!reader, 1.5k.

Roan comes in through the front door with a sweet smile. Living in your cul-de-sac has meant you don't mind too much if she wants to go out to play alone, where before Eddie would insist on sitting on the porch of the trailer, worried someone would come barrelling down the road seventy miles an hour.

"Hi, princess," you say, leaning down with your arms propped on the counter. You're putting the finishing touches on a drawing using the sunshine. Nothing special, just a sketch for fun.

"Hey, mommy."

You preen at the title. Being a stepmom is awesome, especially when she feels comfortable enough to call you mom. "Is it home time for Georgia?"

"Yeah, she's gone home for dinner."

"Are you hungry? Daddy's still at Uncle Gareth's, so I'm in charge of food."

You turn around when you get no answer, waving your pencil at an empty kitchen. "Roan?"

"I'm coming back!" She shouts from the top of the stairs.

You raise your eyebrows. "Okay!" you shout back. "I get to choose dinner, then? What's that, you want chicken pot pie?" You smile. Eddie loves chicken pot pie, especially when you make it.

You put your sketchbook and pencil case on the kitchen table and spray down the countertops. The motions of cooking are well worn now; you know how to make every recipe for two and a half people. You wash your hands, grab the canned puff pastry, and get to work.

Roan appears again as you're spreading a little bit of flour over the counter, running to the sink. She kicks her stepping stool to the counter and climbs up to wash her hands. She looks cagey.

"Anything I should know about?" you ask.

Roan squirts dish detergent into her palm, strawberry scented rivulets running between her little fingers before she's had time to rub it in. You set aside your rolling pin and pick up the soap to put a small dollop of it in her other hand.

"Say?" you ask, stroking her bedraggled hair away from her face.

"Nothing for you to know about."

You turn her head to yours, water spitting at your shirts as she washes her hands hurriedly. "Hey." You frown, gaze narrowing on a bloody scratch that's caught the bottom of her right cheek. "Aw, bubby, what happened?"

"It doesn't hurt," Roan says flippantly.

"You're gonna have to let me wipe it clean, still. Okay?"

"Yeah, mommy. Whatever you want."

You bite the inside of your bottom lip to tamp down an embarrassingly huge smile. "Okay. Good girl on the hand washing, you gonna help me make dinner, huh?" You kiss the top of her head. "I'm so lucky, my girl's so helpful."

"Can I go get changed first?" she asks.

"Yeah, bub. Want help?"

"No!" she shouts hopping down off of stool. She'll probably have to wash her hands again when she returns, but you're too happy to care. She's gorgeous, she's a sweetheart, and she loves you like a mom.

You turn back to the pastry and roll out the bottom of the pie. You'll refrigerate it while you make the chicken filling and the roux. Which one to make first? You might have done things in the wrong order.

"Ro, are you almost done?" you shout, blinking back to attention. "Let me look at that scratch, babe!"

Arms around your waist. You thought you heard the door.

"What scratch?" Eddie asks, dipping his face down to the juncture of your neck, where he plants a warm kiss.

"On her cheek. I let her go out with Georgia, I hope that's okay. Only in our street."

"That's okay," he assures you. He hugs you with kind arms, not squeezing like he tends to, completely and utterly loving. You can't hug him while your hands are covered in flour, leaning back instead to soak in all his affection. "What's the scratch from?"

"Yet to be determined."

Eddie hums and holds you. You cave in to dirtying him, painting his forearm with white fingerprints as you hug it to your ribs. You let your head flop back, tickled by his exhales where they kiss your neck.

You and Eddie stand there in quiet bliss. Then, from upstairs, you hear a strange sound.

"Is Roan back in her cat phase?"

Eddie tilts his head away from you. His hand retreats from your abdomen where it'd been resting, braced on your hips. "Ro…" He groans. "Not again."

"Eddie?"

He takes your hand. "She has a cat in her room."

The meows become clearer the further Eddie leads you up the stairs. You wipe as much of the flour on your hands onto your pyjama pants as you can, but it's a mess. Eddie can't complain —how often does he get car grease on you?

"Roan Ayla Munson," Eddie says through the closed door. "I better not find anything in there that I'm not supposed to."

You startle at the use of her middle name. You didn't even know Roan had a middle name until a couple of months ago; you always thought Eddie skipped giving her one. Apparently he thought Ayla was the same as Aella, an Amazonian fighter who wielded twin axes. Ayla, in contrast, means a few things. Bringer of light, in Finnish. Circle of light around the moon, in Turkish. Oak tree, in original Hebrew. You love all three definitions, but bringer of light feels most accurate.

Bringer of cats might be more astute at the moment.

"I don't have anything, daddy!"

Meow.

"I think you're lying to me. Last chance, bubby."

A vehement shushing noise, a meow, and a defeated sigh sound through the door. Weight hits the floor, footsteps creeping closer. You and Eddie wait in apparently very different moods for her to open the door.

Roan holds a wriggling kitten in her small hands. She's wearing a nightgown over her sweatpants like she'd started changing and forgotten. Her arms are covered in red scratches. The kitten yowls when it sees you and Eddie, likely finding you both to be more intimidating than your poor girl.

"Oh, babe," you fret breathlessly, "Eddie, take the cat."

"Dad–" Roan starts.

"Look at your arms," he interrupts with a tandem worry, taking the kitten from her.

You pick Roan up with ease, careful not to touch her pale arms. She tries to explain herself as you carry her down the stairs, "I found her behind Old Man Michael's house, she looked so sad and you said we should be nice to everything we meet, even if we don't like the way they look," she says.

"I meant about spiders and ants and stuff," Eddie says, holding the angry cat in front of his chest cautiously. "You know, we don't have to kill little creatures if we don't have to. I didn't mean you should kidnap kittens."

"She looked hungry."

You put Roan on the clean bit of counter between the stove and the sink and frown at her arms. "Sweetheart," you murmur sympathetically, "don't these hurt?"

"Well, I…"

You shoot Eddie a look. He stares the kitten in the eyes rather than meet your own, seemingly distracted. Fine, you'll try parent by yourself, even if you're no expert yet.

"What?" you ask patiently.

"I was hiding her in my backpack, but she didn't like it. She thinks it's too small."

"I bet so." You're thinking, Eddie, what are we gonna do? And, Ouch, these are going to hurt. "Ro, is this how you got the scratch on your cheek? You're lucky he didn't scratch you in the eye."

"I think he's a girl," Roan says.

This is less important to you than the scratches, but you amend yourself anyways. "She could've blinded you."

"I think you're in trouble, Ro. We already talked about this before, didn't we? No stray cats in the house," Eddie says.

"I already told you, dad! Rufus and Steve let themselves in, I didn't used to do that."

You wash your hands swiftly and grab the first aid kit from under the sink, pulling out the blue disinfectant spray that Roan hates. She winces at the sight of it as you expected, pulling her arms against her tummy.

"It won't hurt anymore than the scratches did when the kitten did them," you say gently.

Roan shakes her head.

You put the disinfectant between her knees and lean in. "I'll make daddy make cookies, yeah? You be brave and let me clean your scratches and we'll have warm cookies and ice cream."

Eddie breaks out of his stare off, taken aback. "It's her own fault," he says, though he's smiling.

"She was trying to do a good thing. And look at her little arms, Eds, hasn't she been punished enough?" you ask.

The kitten kicks its legs weakly. "What the heck are we gonna do with her?" Eddie asks.

"We could keep her," Roan says.

"Don't push your luck, Roro."

You lift the disinfectant spray. Roan seems apprehensive still, so you look her head on and wink. "I'll try my best," you whisper.

Roan holds out her arms with a grin.

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kazumiwrites-fanfiction · 9 months

Text

Not-So-Secret Drawings

REQUEST: Hi there, so I've been daydreaming about this for awhile but I absolutely suck at writing so, could i request hcs were the reader is really good at drawing and has been secretly drawing random people on campus whenever they get the chance, but one day reader forgets there sketch pad somewhere and a character (of your choosing) finds it and decides to snoop and finds drawingsof them and people on campus. Just as they finish looking through reader comes (after realizing they forgot it). I hope this makes sense to you, have a nice day/night.

SUMMARY: Your carefully hidden secret is out now. WORD COUNT: 1k

WARNINGS: Riddle, Azul, Floyd, and Vil snooping looking through your drawings, reader is a really good artist, Riddle threatens you (out of love I swear), Azul is uncomfortable by your drawings (not in a bad way- I think), mentions of getting lectured by Azul, Floyd is a ball of chaos, Vil gets no warnings because he's perfect/j A/N: When I tell you that as soon as I saw this I immediately rushed to write two parts before having to stop because I needed to do my summer homework - and then procrastinated the last part (Vil)- Also I know you implied one character but since I'm indecisive I did multiple haha (I'm sorry (but also kind of not because this was fun)) I'm sure you don't suck at writing!! You just get sick of your own writing because it all seems predictable (speaking from experience, I read my work and I'm like "ew?? I need better words" haha) Vil's part is definitely weird because I was like "Fashion Designer!Reader" (probably because some of my friends take fashion/design classes) and I don't know how accurate this is I suck at drawing so I know nothing please don't come at me- Also on a side note, I have a lot of requests right now and since I have a lot of schoolwork I have to do right now, my writing will probably be scattered. Hope you guys understand! (Hope you have a nice day/afternoon/night/etc too!!)

You had always been careful with your drawings. You never wanted another person to look at them. After all, you had been drawing other people - and who knew what they would think?

Sure, they were pretty accurate, but still. It wasn't like the people at Night Raven College knew that you were drawing them. And you didn't want your drawings to get destroyed just because someone in a foul mood found them. Just your luck though, as you had left your sketchbook somewhere. Where did you even misplace it…

Riddle Rosehearts

He had always seen you with your sketchbook, but had assumed it was just for studying.

Likewise, when it popped up during class, he assumed that you were diligently taking notes.

It was almost sad seeing how far from the truth he was in hindsight.

Since he found your sketchbook on the floor (perhaps having fallen from your bag - it was always full, after all), he decided to take it to you. On the way over to Ramshackle Dorm, he flipped through the sketchbook before he paused.

These weren't notes. They were drawings.

And very good ones, at that.

They were so detailed, he thought for an instant that you had magicked them on here somehow (before remembering that you didn't have any magic).

So was this what you could do with some time and diligence?

His mother had never let him draw much so his drawings were mediocore at best (at worst, one would think that a small child had drawn them).

He found himself captivated by the artwork, flipping through the pages, seeing the drawings of various people from the school. Even some of himself…? With more details... It was odd, the small flutter in his chest. Happiness?

He jolted as he heard your voice, asking if that sketchbook in his hands was yours, abruptly slamming the sketchbook shut as if he had been looking at something completely inappropriate. Which, in a way, he might have been?

"Sorry for looking at these without your permission." He got out after a moment, handing it back to you. "You're a really good artist." He paused. "But you shouldn't be drawing in class. If I catch you with this sketchbook out during Trein-sensei's lectures, I'll have your head!"

Azul Ashengrotto

Of course Azul had noticed your drawings. He needed to in order to make sure he knew as much as possible about others so he could scam help them whenever they needed it.

Still, he found it intriguing, so he couldn't help but skim through your drawings. And my, were they amazing.

Until he got to the section where you had drawn him.

Sure, there were drawings of him in regular uniform, some of him in his P.E. uniform (he thought that they weren't really flattering on him, but you made it look good).

But then there were the sections where you had drawn him in mer form.

Of course, you had no idea what his mer form actually looked like (without all the overblotting, which you never got the chance to see clearly anyway) so it was mostly guesswork and using your imagination.

There were ones with long, large tentacles swarming around him.

Some with tentacles that were slender.

Some of them popped out of weird angles, which he was puzzled about, but okay.

My tentacles can't move like that - or can they?

They definitely shouldn't be popping out of his ribs. Wherever did you get that particular idea? It made him uncomfortable just by looking at it.

He was so caught up in examining your drawings and he didn't notice you until you literally snatched the sketchbook from his hands, saying something about how they were private.

"Sorry, [Y/N]-san... But these drawings aren't too accurate, you know."

And that was how you got roped into a three-hour long discussion about the anatomy of octopuses as well as the anatomy of merfolk and how your drawings were terribly inaccurate. (You were just guessing, how were you supposed to know any of this?)

Floyd Leech

Floyd wouldn't even wait until the sketchbook was unattended.

He'd pop out of nowhere, eyes bright, asking what you were doing.

Never mind if it was in the middle of class or not.

You've both gotten scolded about this, he should know better.

Still, one day he caught you by surprise, and the book slipped from your hands.

You muttered a small curse before trying to grab it, but whoops, too late. Floyd had already gotten it and was flipping through the pages.

"Aww, Koebi-chan, you drew me?" His gaze met yours, a wide grin on his face (showing his extremely sharp teeth). "You should've just asked, I would've modeled and stuff for you."

You shook your head slightly. You had wanted to keep this a secret if possible... At least Floyd seemed to be in a fairly good mood. You told him that you wanted to draw people in their natural state, without them posing for the "camera," so to speak.

He looked disappointed, but then immediately asked if you could come to a basketball practice or match or something. Perhaps you'd find it more interesting to draw him there. Or maybe in the ocean?

Vil Schoenheit

He was no stranger to people drawing him. He was famous after all.

He did sometimes get… odd pieces of artwork, but that was to be expected.

Still, he didn't expect to find a sketchbook with him in it, abandoned at an empty seat. Only drawings of him.

It had so happened that you were trying to figure out a good design for clothing. You always wanted to have a face to your designs, and he was the perfect subject.

Maybe your drawings didn't do him justice, but it was interesting to see how you could tweak your designs to fit him better.

Still, Vil was plenty impressed.

These designs... He could definitely see himself wearing them.

Maybe he could show them to one of the people he knew... They could help make something like that. With your permission, of course.

He closed the book as he heard you come up.

"These designs really are fascinating. Would you mind showing me more details? I'm certain that we can turn these drawings into reality if you'd like it."

As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr

Feel free to send requests! Check out this post for info ^^

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star-light-imagines · 1 year

Note

Can I request a Sesshomaru and Todoroki hc. Where their s/o likes to draw, and has a sketch book filled with drawings of them?

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° this really took on a life of its own as I started writing, I stayed true to the request but did add in a touch of angst , because that's what came to mind picturing this take place.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° I hope you don't mind!

Sketches of You.

: ̗̀➛ Includes - sesshomaru x reader. shoto todoroki x reader. fluff. mutual pinning. slight angst. jealous shoto. bonus content.

: ̗̀➛ Warnings - gn! reader. slightly mean sesshomaru. annoying jaken. slight angst. cute loving moments.

: ̗̀➛ Word Count - 4,420

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

(all art and characters are do not belong to me , credit goes to the original creators.)

Sesshomaru:

Curiosity. That's what he first started to feel towards watching you completely transfixed on the book you had in your hands. However, his intrigued stares were never granted a glimpse because when he would approach, your hands would tightly clasp the book closed.

As if you could sense when his eyes darted towards your artwork , you never failed to keep it just out of his view unknowingly adding to his ever-growing interest.

Your hands moved gracefully along the paper , as if it was dancing along the pages with the pencil held between your fingertips. Attention immersed in the lines forming in front of you , while a slight breeze annoyingly moved a strand of hair into your eyes causing you to pause.

"What is that book in your hands y/n? Is it for the school you speak of in your time?" he decides to ask while staring at you questioningly, the curiosity showing slightly on his features.

You hurriedly placed the book in your bag as he moved closer to the tree your back was now leaning against. The sketches were far too revealing of your feelings for him to see. No, if he saw these sketches he would see every emotion you had for him. You weren't ready to know if those feelings would be returned or denied.

"It's a sketchbook. Some of them are for my art class , however a majority of them are just so I can have a little piece of this era to keep with me while I'm at home." you said with a blush starting to grow pink on your cheeks.

"Hm."

He looked away from you as he looked towards the sky instead, sunlight catching his golden eyes making them almost glow. All you could picture was drawing the scene before you as soon as possible before you forgot how his silver hair blew in the slight breeze.

Annoyed. He starts to become annoyed when you had let Rin look into the sketchbook but you still went through immense effort to keep his eyes from looking at what you were creating. Why am I not allowed to see your art , do you not think of me as worthy enough to look upon it?

"Y/N! Y/N! look at these flowers I picked! Can you draw the same ones for me?" Rin had asked sweetly while placing her hands on your knees while you had been sketching.

"Of course I can." A smile effortlessly taking over your features as you speak to the girl.

"It's beyond me why you would want something useless like a drawing of a flower, child!" Jaken made his irritation known with a shrieking voice.

You start to diligently draw the flowers provided to you as you tune out the conversation.

"Oh Jaken! y/n told me that even though the flowers may wither away someday. However, if I have a drawing of the flowers then I can always keep them with me." she cooed happily.

"Don't you think so too , Lord Sesshomaru?" The little girl bubbly questioned

"Hm." was his only reply.

"That reminds me, Jaken, there's one of you and Rin together here."

You remembered suddenly as you finished the sketch of the flowers, quickly turning to the page of the drawing before anyone could see the others that plagued the pages of your sketchbook.

"WHAT! You drew me without my permission!" he screeches loudly.

Sesshomaru's irritation started to rise as the conversation grew on. Jaken's inherent gasp of wonder as Rin and him looked upon your sketchbook and the sequel of happiness she had praised upon you.

You happily gave her the sketch of the flowers she tasked you with, and she quickly was treating it as her prized possession.

"Lord Sesshomaru! Don't you want to see the drawing y/n made for me? It's so beautiful!"

"No , I don't need to set my eyes upon such trivial endeavors." It was said with such disgust that Rin had paused slightly and silence filled the air.

He had said the words out of irritation and annoyance, however you wouldn't know that.

Quickly without even sparing a glance towards the paper in Rin's tiny hands , had he stood from his spot next to the tree and left the campsite.

Leaving you with silent tears you refused to let spill in his wake.

Disappointed. He's disappointed in himself for allowing such insolent behavior. He had acted in such a childish way that he could only imagine his younger half brother would have reacted towards Kagome. He wasn't like him , he was more mature , more refined. So why is it bothering him so much anyways?

Was it because you never let him see the art inside that mysterious book?

Or was it the fact he had learned you had drawn the others in his pack and easily let them look upon your art while you still kept him at a distance ?

His thoughts plagued him as he stared at the full moon in the silence of the night.

Confused. When you had apologized the next morning while packing up the camp. There was nothing for you to apologize for which had hurt his pride more than when he acted so childish in front of you.

"Do not give apologies for something that is not needed."

There was no reply from you as a shocked expression formed on your features.

He knew he needed to atone for his behavior , however per his customs he would rather do so the right way rather than a lackluster apology, so he had to wait.

Guilty. After that night , he noticed you had stopped drawing as much as you used to. Before you had used almost every bit of your free time to draw, now it was replaced with you picking flowers with Rin or making small talk with Jaken and himself.

A few weeks had gone by since that night, and you had yet to even take out the sketchbook more than once a week much to his dismay.

Even though he never outwardly expresses it , watching you draw under the shade of the trees as Rin pranced around in the fields of flowers with Jaken at her heels brought a sense of peacefulness over him.

The furrowed eyebrows in concentration as your hands moved the pencil gracefully almost effortlessly across the sketchbook resting in your lap. A slight breeze rippling through your hair and making one strand a bit into your eyesight. Before you had moved the strand behind your ear to stop it constricting your line of view.

He knew you loved to draw and apparently had a gift for it from the praise Rin and Jaken had given you that night. He didn't want his childish words to keep you from doing something you desired to do.

He took a moment to peek at you over his shoulder , your eyes glancing at the clouds above. A slightly sad expression overtaking your facial features before you had made eye contact with him almost as if you had known his eyes were on you.

He quickly moved his eyes forward to gaze at the trail in front of him, a stoic expression while his heart hammered in his chest. This was new, he never felt this way before. He never felt the need to make someone want to smile more strongly than he did right now, and he had no idea on how to accomplish that with you.

Content. He led you aside one night to a river near the campsite. The moon light was reflecting off the water enchantingly and fireflies decided to dance along grass nearby.

"You no longer draw , how come ? Is it not something you desire to do?" he asked with a stoic expression as gold eyes made contact with e/c, filling the silence between you two.

"Oh , I just figured maybe I should take a break from it for now, plus my sketchbook is almost full so until my next trip home I'm a bit limited."

He noticed how pink dusted your cheeks before you quickly looked away. A smirk slightly formed on his lips at the sight , he liked seeing a blush form on your cheeks more than he previously would have realized.

"You apologized before for something that didn't need your apology."

"Oh, yes, that's right." you stammer out not seeing where this conversation could be heading.

"Do not do so again. If you know you aren't at fault , don't lower yourself to others' bad behavior."

You stood there stunned, not quite sure what to say before uttering a quick " Yes." when his stern eyes reached yours.

When that conversation happened you had mostly apologized in order for there to be no ill will between you two and make sure he wasn't upset at you. Never would you have imagined he would tell you twice now not to apologize for something so trivial in the long scheme of things.

"If anyone needs to apologize , it would be this Sesshomaru for the unsightly attitude I had given you. I should have told you this before now , however it is a yokai custom to come bearing gifts when asking for forgiveness."

Sesshomaru pulls out a set of what looks like custom made art tools. They were beautifully handcrafted with fine luxurious materials, more than likely yokai crafted at that.

A gasp of awe escapes your lips as your fingers gingerly gloss over each of the tools, you focus mostly on drawing but you could now expand your art to other mediums such as painting if you so desired.

Your heart had swelled to the brim with affection and happiness that spilled out in the form of tears running down your cheeks.

"Is it not to your liking." he asked, his lips forming a tight frown.

"It's beautiful." you say with what you're sure is the happiest smile you ever graced him before.

Yes , he is content with this for now.

Realization. Later that night as you two were walking back to the campsite, you ended up asking him why he had responded in such a way in the first place. When he had told you how he felt irritated about the others getting to see your art, while he felt left out and cast aside, you instantly started to feel guilt weigh down your shoulders.

"There's a reason I never let you see. It's not a good reason, but I was just embarrassed of what you would say once you saw what I draw everyday." you say while heat spreads to your cheeks.

"Why would you be embarrassed of showing this Sesshomaru?"

You quickly take the sketch book out of your bag and hand it to him before you can change your mind. He eyes you while his clawed fingers carefully open the book in his hands and you look away, embarrassed to watch his eyes linger on the sketches.

He's silent as his fingers graze the pages within , silently turning the pages every few moments after he takes in the contents of the page before.

"These are all sketches of .." he trails off in amazement, his eyes taking on a softer look than you have ever seen before.

"They are all sketches of you. yeah there's Rin or Jaken , maybe a beautiful valley every now and then , but you are what I sketch everyday. You are what I like to see most even when I'm in my era and not by your side."

That's when he realized the feelings he had towards you this whole time wasn't just ordinary feelings for a companion in his pack , or a human he had just happen to keep by his side.

He wanted to keep you by his side. He wanted to always make you smile the way he you are now with your eyes glowing and your cheeks dusted with a pink hue.

Most importantly, he couldn't be just content with you as a companion for much longer.

I never want to let y/n go.

"Y/n I desire to see everything you draw from now on."

"Of course" you reply shyly.

"You are stunningly beautiful when you blush like that. If only I had the skills you possess in order to show you as you had shown me."

Wide eyes catch the smirk dancing on his lips before he walks towards the campsite , hand still wrapped tightly around your sketchbook as he did.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Bonus Scene:

"Sesshomaru , I've been meaning to ask this. where did you get these art tools ?"

He glanced down at you as your head rested on his shoulder, your new sketchbook on your thighs as you gracefully sketched a beautiful scene of the two of you this time under a cherry blossom tree.

A pleased smile graced his usually stoic features as his eyes became softer at the sight. "I had them specially made from a yokai craftsman in my territory, the day Jaken was left to guard you two I had gone to collect them."

You smile happily as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder more as a slight breeze whipped some strands of hair onto your face.

He reaches a clawed hand towards you elegantly , placing the strand back behind your ear taking a few seconds to pull his fingers away before smirking at the obvious heat rising to your cheeks.

»»———-　　———-««

Shoto Todoroki:

Curiosity. He started to notice you would often be sitting close to the windows in the dormitory, with all of your attention focused on the sketchbook on your lap. You would never once glance up at the environment around you, not even when one of your classmates was usually loud. His interest peaked , he couldn't help but wonder what you had been drawing for days on end.

Shoto had decided to try and take a glimpse at your artwork after watching you work dedicatedly on the page before beneath your smudge stained fingers.

The sketchbook had been slammed closed before his eyes could see the mysterious artwork hidden within, only feeding into his curiosity even more. You had given him a quick glance , making eye contact before placing the book safely in your bag.

"It's not polite to look at someone's personal belongings without permission, Todoroki."

His eyes glazed over to the bag that now held the notebook that is just out of his reach, before returning his eyes to stare directly into yours evenly almost as if stating a challenge.

"I'm just curious as to what you are drawing that has you so transfixed."

A smile makes its way to your lips.

"Ever hear that curiosity killed the cat."

You hastily made your way to your dorm room, bag in tow. The thumping of your heart was echoing in your ears as you walked. That was close, too close for comfort. If he had seen inside, he would know just how deeply of a crush you have been harboring for him since you first met him.

While he still stood there, piecing together your sentence.

Were you saying I would die for being too curious?

Content. Since the day he tried to take a glimpse of your sketchbook , you had been careful to not let him approach too closely. Making sure that if you had sensed him , you would immediately close the book in your hands. However, the curiosity he felt started to fade. Taking in the sight of you drawing so earnestly and with such dedication was art in itself.

You were enchanting , eyes focused on the pages before you. a firm grip on the sketchbook as it laid on your lap and your remaining hand danced across the paper delicately. His eyes were in a trance as he watched you from across the room , gliding along with each movement your fingers made.

A small smile graced your lips as you finished whatever art piece you had set your heart on that day, and that's when he felt it. Watching your eyebrows relax and peace settle into your face as you looked content as you placed the sketchbook bag in the safety of your bag. He noticed he no longer really needed to know what you were drawing as long as you continued to smile just like that.

Warmth filled his chest at the thought as he gazed at your retreating figure.

Yes, he's content with this.

Bitter. Shoto realizes that you are drawing in Midoriya's notebook. the feeling of ice shivered down his spine as he saw you so intently focused with that same smile he felt so content at seeing. Now being shown to his best friend in the seat next to you. Oh, so that was why you never let him see your art , it's reserved for someone else.

Midoriya had asked you a few days ago to help him redesign the sketches in his notebook. He noticed how you were always drawing in your free time and decided you would be the best person to go to for the request.

You've never taken commission work before, and even though you weren't getting paid it did feel nice having someone look at your art and see how excited they got at the results. Watching how happy Midoriya was at the sketches you had already placed made you eager to accept more requests in the future if you ever got the chance.

"Wow! y/n I can't believe how amazing your sketches are!" he says in wonder.

"Thank you, but you are really flattering me too much." you say happily as you make the finishing touches on the last drawing of a figure of midoriya doing a move he's wanting to practice.

"I really mean it y/n! This is way better than anything I've ever managed to do. What made you start drawing?"

You quickly put down your pencil as you go into thought for a moment from the sudden question.

"I guess.. it would have to be the fact that even though moments pass by so quickly, a moment I draw will stay forever encased like a photograph for me to look at whenever I want to revisit it."

"Y/N! That's beautiful." he states with slight tears forming in his eyes, while he's forcing himself to hold them back.

"Oh Todoroki! You're up early this morning, come look at y/n's art." Midoriya said excitedly as he motioned for Shoto to join them at the table you were residing at.

Your heart hammered in your chest at the thought of him finally looking at your artwork. This was finally something he could see that wouldn't immediately show how much you liked him and you were nervous about his response to your designs.

"No thank you. I heard curiosity killed the cat." he says with a stoic expression.

e/c met a heterochromia mixture of grey and blue in shock, he had refused to see the art he tried so desperately to steal a glimpse of a few weeks before. Had he really taken you seriously with your remark?, or did he just no longer care to look at what you were drawing anymore. The excitement in your heart slowly fading out, you fell silent.

You watched as midoriya continued to talk to him with a slightly shocked and worried expression, before eventually shoto had left the room leaving you alone once again with the green haired boy beside you.

Numb. The days following he had started to distance himself from you and Midoriya. Deciding to no longer eat with the two of you at lunch like before or spend free time together in the dormitory like what had been a routine for him. He now isolated himself in his room to escape the questioning looks you would give his way or the worried expressions his best friend would give him whenever he became too silent.

He didn't want to distance himself from you , but every time he saw you he remembered that the only one you allowed yourself to open up to was midoriya. He realized he would never be able to get close to you the way he was and it made him feel cold.

The cold feeling overtook him in a way that was so intense that his body and mind felt numb.

I lost y/n before I even had a chance to get them.

You had noticed how he was distancing himself and your heart ached in pain at the fact. every time you had tried to reach out, to question what could be plaguing his thoughts he would shut you out. Not only was your mind suffering from the worry , but so was the art you had tried to complete in order to relax from the stress.

The sketches of shoto that you had tried to finish the last few days have been a failure compared to your collection of artwork consisting of the one man taking over your thoughts. It was pointless to try and draw him when he won't even talk to me anymore.

A silent tear strolls down your cheek as you look up to the ceiling of your dorm.

Why do I feel so numb?

Midoriya had told me recently that my art might be able to reach people when words fail.

Taking a quick glance towards your sketchbook before you could second guess your thoughts, you grab it tightly in your hands and make your way towards his dorm room.

Surprised. The knock on his door had shaken him from his thoughts, and the sight of you as he opened his door had his stoic expression falter slightly as his eyes widened just a bit where you could notice. He obviously wasn't expecting you to be here in his doorway, Why would he when he had been actively pushing you away ? and yet here you were smiling sadly back at him in silence.

"Y/n?" he lets out a confused gasp of your name that he believed he only spoke in his mind for a moment when you took a few beats to answer.

He notices you take a breath inward before releasing it and the determined e/c orbs reach him.

"I won't know what's wrong unless you tell me."

"And I won't know how to help you unless you tell me." you continue before he can reply.

"But I can care about you, and I want to help you so stop pushing me away!"

You place the sketchbook in his hands in one rough motion as you finish your last sentence. Your gaze now directed at the ground and the tips of your ears growing red and the feeling of his eyes lingering on you in the silence that fell over you two.

Shoto looks down at the sketchbook in his hands while processing the words you had told him. he knows he was being to hard on you, he shouldn't have treated you so badly the last few days. he just couldn't force himself to watch you be with his best friend when he had just recently discovered that the feelings he's harbored for you all along would go unrequited.

He slowly opens the sketchbook prepared to see sketches of Midoriya or even just random sketches of the world through your eyes, however once the contents reach his vision he freezes. his fingers grazing the person so familiar to him on the pages before flipping through each page.

"This is .." he starts before stopping, surprised to see that every page was filled with sketches of one person.

"You. They are all sketches of you." you say a small smile placed on your lips as you hesitantly glanced up to him.

His heart filled with so much joy and awe that a few silent tears slid down his cheeks as he realized that not only did the person he had feelings for , have feelings for him as well , but that he had unintentionally hurt you more than he intended when he distanced himself.

"I was jealous." he states, suddenly making your mouth open in shock.

"What?!"

"Midoriya was able to see your artwork. It seemed like he was so much closer to you than I would ever be."

Shoto gazes turns downward towards his feet as a slight blush graces his cheeks from the revealed emotions.

You were surprised by the sudden confession and let a lighthearted laugh escape your lips from the pressure of his distance to put on your heart. He glanced at you making eye contact before you leaned into him, placing a hand on his cheek as you got closer.

"You know that cats have nine lives ? so even if they do die of curiosity they can always try again." you say before leaning to press your lips to his.

Happiness. The ice he had felt had melted and the numbness from the cold was warmed completely from your feelings that reached him through the sketches you had shown him and the kiss you have given him.

"I'm sorry for hurting you." he says softly while placing a strand of your hair behind your ear and looking deep into your eyes.

You smile brightly up at him in return.

“Promise to talk to me next time before you jump to conclusions?”

He laughs slightly as a small smile takes over the frown that graced his lips.

“Promise.”

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Bonus Scene:

“So why were you drawing in Midoriya’s notebook?” he asked while you ate dinner together in his room.

You looked at him with a bright smile excited to tell him all about how you were now wanting to start commissioning your artworks.

“He asked me to help him redesign his notebook. He told me his drawings were making his notes look too messy.” you said happily before stealing a piece of his food from his plate.

“I really wish I would have paid more attention that day.” he said with a small sigh before the smile returns as he gazes at you.

“However I don’t regret anything because somehow throughout all this , I managed to get you.”

»»———-　　———-««

A/N: Should I keep my headcanons / imagines like this or make them more simple & short?

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talesofesther · 1 year

Text

serenity haze

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: You notice the changes in Jenna in the lines that you draw; the sketches of her in your sketchbook have more lines to them, creases in her eyebrows, and shadows below her eyes. Your heart clenches painfully whenever you look at a finished piece you did of her.

Requested by anon

A/N: First time writing for her so don't crucify me pls. I still feel a tad bit weird writing about real people, but I see my Jenna as a character in a story, that's all. Hope you can enjoy this one, let me know your thoughts. Requests are always open, though be aware that I go where my inspiration takes me, and be mindful of my guidelines.

Masterlist

You were naturally observant, it was a habit that came with a hobby.

You liked to draw things, and to be able to draw them, you had to observe.

Because you're observant, you tend to notice patterns, details, and moments that might go unnoticed by most.

Lately, you found yourself drawing one thing in particular — or better, one person.

Jenna Ortega captivated you, anyone who met her would probably say the same. She is captivating after all. Yet you know your feelings are different, because you see a side of her that few people do.

You had been offered a role in the new Wednesday show, it was a smaller one, but a privilege nonetheless. And this role gave you the opportunity to meet Jenna.

After the first month of working together, it was already known on set that; where you went, Jenna wasn't too far behind.

You'd catch yourself searching for her in the crowds most days, her favorite coffee order in hand. She'd greet you with a warm smile that never failed and a hug that lasted a little too long. Jenna was sunshine if sunshine could be a person, she was the most genuine girl you knew; beautiful inside and out.

It was inevitable that she became your muse.

Unbeknownst to you — and maybe even to herself — Jenna felt drawn to you too. You were quietness, you were calmness, you were the steadiness she craved in her hectic life.

Jenna had no obligations with you, no expectations to meet; she could be herself, on good or bad days, and you'd still be there. She didn't know how much she needed something like that until she finally got it.

In some ways, it felt like you were her breath of fresh air whenever she needed one. Which seems to be happening quite often nowadays.

Whilst everyone was running around on set, cameras on every corner of the room, and people talking incessantly in their intercoms, Jenna was speaking with Tim about an upcoming scene in the show. She leaned back on what was one of the booths in the Weathervane cafe, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding along to his words.

He spoke about the dance, and Jenna confirmed she had almost all the choreography done already. Except she didn't.

What she had, were sleepless nights weighing down on her shoulders.

She tried to take a deep breath to calm her nerves, but it didn't do much. Her gaze skimmed over the room against her own volition, finding you sitting in a corner of the set — on the floor no less — sketchbook in hands.

Jenna felt the overwhelming urge to escape to your world.

Dark lines steadily appeared on the paper along with the drag of your pencil. You bit into your lower lip, a habit of concentration, and glanced up at Jenna; only to notice her eyes already on you.

The heat that came to your cheeks was instant and you gave her a sheepish smile. She caught you red-handed. Hopefully, she wouldn't bring it up.

Because, how could you resist? When Jenna is standing there against the sun, golden rays highlighting all her features for you; from the curve of her lips, to the tip of her nose, to the shape of her eyebrows. Flawless.

You couldn't resist taking out your book and drawing a quick sketch of her. Sometimes for you, watching people from afar was much better than seeing them up close, you could capture their essence fully, notice each little quirk or mannerism.

Take Jenna for example; her thumbs brush the fabric of her Nevermore uniform as she speaks with Tim, she's nodding eagerly to everything he says, not able to stay still on her feet. She's a little nervous, a little anxious. You could tell from the other side of the room.

It's no secret that filming this series is taking a toll on Jenna — your pencil traces the outline of her jaw on your sketchbook before you move to her eyes, and around them, you see yourself being forced to add just a tad more shadow; it's been happening for a while — you see her exhaustion in the lines that you draw.

The rough image of her stared back at you from your sketchbook, and part of you wanted to take her hand and go away for a day or two.

There's a sudden presence beside you that makes you flinch back to reality. Jenna sat down on the floor with you; she rests her head back against the wall, a lazy smile tugging at her lips.

She brought her knees closer to her chest, making herself look smaller than she already is. Turning to look at you, all she asked was; "what are you drawing?"

There's always a silent understanding between you both. You bumped her shoulder with yours, "that's confidential information."

And she actually pouts, lower lip jutted out and big doe eyes pleading at you; "even for me?"

"Especially for you," you mumbled, not sure if she heard or not.

Jenna doesn't inquire further, forever reciprocating the serenity you bring to her life. She slumped closer to you, allowing her head to fall on your shoulder, blindly trusting you to hold her weight if so needed.

You placed your sketchbook aside, focusing solemnly on her. Your cast and crew mates are still walking around, no one spares a glance at the two actresses who sit on the floor of Jericho's cafe; it feels like your own little bubble of peace for a precious minute.

"Were you and Tim discussing a new scene?" You asked eventually, gently leaning your head on top of hers.

Jenna hummed, "it's a dance that will happen at the school party, I'm creating Wednesday's choreography."

"That's exciting, do you have anything already?"

"Not really. I've got two weeks."

The turmoil of emotions was so evident in Jenna's tight voice that you almost pulled away so you could look her in the eyes and tell her… you're not sure what you'd say, but something to ease it.

Yet you held back, choosing instead to take her hand and whisper 'you got this' against her hair.

———

Things only got worse after your little moment.

Jenna has been on autopilot. You doubt she's sleeping, or resting at all. She's always the first one to arrive on set and the last one to leave.

The sketches of her in your sketchbook have more lines to them, creases in her eyebrows, and shadows below her eyes. Your heart clenches painfully whenever you look at a finished piece you did of her.

It was a Saturday night, you sat on the roof of your trailer, enjoying the starry sky above you, the cold breeze around you. With the flashlight of your cellphone on, you turned the pages of your sketchbook, reminiscing the drawings of last week; until a rather loud noise caught your attention.

You looked around you with a confused frown. The set's parking lot was empty, with only a few street lamps on, and no one in sight.

This could be a cliche horror movie scene. You could feel a chill running down your back; but then you caught sight of Jenna's trailer, the lights were on.

Checking your phone, you realized you had been sitting outside for longer than you thought. 1:37 AM.

Not giving yourself much room to chicken out, you hopped down from your trailer, stuffed your sketchbook in your pants pocket, and walked up to her door.

You hesitated, awkwardly hovering outside Jenna's trailer in the dead of night. Your stomach was twisting and turning unpleasantly. Coming from inside, you could hear the faint melody of 'Goo Goo Muck' playing.

Your worry got the best of you. Taking a deep breath, you raised your fist to the door, and knocked.

The music stopped abruptly, and you heard shuffling from inside her trailer. And then nothing, the silence stretched for a few good seconds, before her door finally swung open.

Jenna stood in front of you and got your heart shattering a little. She was a bit of a mess; hair up in a disheveled bun, only in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants yet you could see her forehead glistening with sweat, her lips quivered softly with each breath she took, and you could tell her eyes were red-rimmed if you looked closely.

"Hi Jenna," you started with a timid smile, "uh- I'm sorry to bother, it's just, I was out and I saw your lights on and just wanted to ask if everything's okay."

Jenna gulped down the lump in her throat, fidgeting with the sleeves of her hoodie; "yeah it's fine, I'm fine." She tried mimicking your smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Okay," you whispered sympathetically, seeing right through the lie.

"Um-" Jenna cleared her throat, but it sounded more like a soft sob. She avoided meeting your eyes then. "Would you- would you like to come in?"

It was a plea more than anything else. You didn't hesitate in saying yes.

You closed the door behind you and glanced around her trailer; she had her laptop on her bed, YouTube page opened to The Cramps' song; there was a stress ball rolling around on the floor, you figured that's where the loud noise from earlier came.

"I'm working on the dance," Jenna turned to you, threading her fingers through her fringe, restless.

"And how is it going?" You asked, though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

"I can't come up with anything," Jenna shrugged, chuckling humourlessly as her eyes welled up with tears.

Your heart was trying to escape your chest — Jenna's eyes were shining under the orange lights of the trailer, hands trembling as she tried to hold herself together — you took a step closer to her; "Jenna, I think you just need to let your mind rest for a while, have you-"

"I can't," she cut you off urgently, "the scene is one week away. One week. And I have nothing," tears started to roll down her cheeks, but you don't think she realized it.

Jenna started walking from one side to another of the small cramped space of her trailer, "I can't think of anything that would fit Wednesday, and we're shooting this scene next week. I told Tim I could handle it and yet I have nothing, what am I gonna tell him? That we're gonna have to postpone shooting because I can't come up with a fucking choreography?"

By the end of her rant, Jenna was panting heavily, borderline hyperventilating. Her tears came nonstop as sobs shook her body. She was hugging herself, chasing some type of comfort that wasn't there.

Your worry finally escaped you and you closed the distance between you both. You took her face in your hands, cupping her cheeks as your thumbs gingerly brushed away the wetness there; "Jen, look at me," you spoke softly, not missing the way her hands came to desperately grasp at your shirt, "breathe with me okay? Can you do that?"

A fresh batch of tears hit your thumbs and you felt your chest crack open; yet Jenna nodded, all reddish nose and glistening eyes.

You took a deep breath in, held it for a second, and then exhaled, watching closely for the way that she'd copy the motion. You did it a couple of times until her breathing was finally somewhat even.

"There you are," you mumbled, regarding her with a bittersweet smile when her eyes found yours, "you're okay," you promised, brushing away a few wisps of hair that clung to her skin.

A sob escaped Jenna's lips as soon as she heard the words, letting her forehead lean into yours in a silent request.

You gladly complied, raising your lips to place a kiss between her brows before guiding her head to rest on your shoulder. You embraced her body flush with yours, arms sliding around her back until you felt the curve of her spine. The thudding of her heart mingling with yours.

You could feel the gentle trembling of her body from time to time. It only made you hold her tighter.

Jenna had a death grip on you, your shirt bunched up on her fists as if you'd disappear if she let go. She buried her head on your shoulder, seeking a safe place, "I'm so tired," she spoke against you, words muffled.

"I know," you kissed her temple, "I know."

You're not sure if you held Jenna for five minutes or one hour, but you stood there for as long as she needed. And when she was ready to pull away, bright and puffy eyes timidly looking at you with nothing but gratitude, you didn't say anything; all you did was turn off her laptop and put it away for the night, dimming the lights on her trailer to give her body a much-needed break.

Then, you sat down beside her on her bed. There was a reasonable distance between you that she was quick to close, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Be honest with me now, have you been sleeping this past week, at all?" You raised a brow at her.

Jenna pursed her lips, in some ways resembling a child who'd been caught stealing from the cookie jar, "that obvious?" She asked, ducking her head to hide behind her fringe.

"Very," you smirked, "for me at least."

That got her looking up at you with tender curiosity, she was looking more like herself already.

With your heart in your mouth, you fished for your sketchbook in your pocket. You handed it to her without daring to breathe.

Jenna flipped through the pages as if they'd crumble between her fingers; carefully, reverently. You could hear the way her breath caught when she found herself between the sketches, once, twice, and then again and again. Different versions of her by your eyes; talking, thinking, walking, smiling, laughing, sometimes even scowling.

And Jenna has never seen herself look so beautiful, so enchanting. Is this how you see her?

Her vision got blurred again but she gulped it back this time, "it's so beautiful," was all she could whisper, smile tugging at her lips as her fingers traced one of the lines that formed her.

"You are," was your answer, in the same quiet tone, afraid to break the spell holding this moment.

Jenna's eyes turned up to you at last, big and vulnerable, almost completely black because of her pupils. She leaned in just a tad, your noses shy of brushing each other — gravity, magnetism, fate; whatever it might be, trying to push you together.

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that she followed, "tomorrow, I'll help you with your dance," you took hold of her free hand, intertwining your fingers, "and it's gonna turn out amazing."

Jenna giggled, and you wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it forever.

"Tonight," you copied her smile, "we'll rest, okay?"

Bringing your hand up to her lips, Jenna planted a kiss on your knuckles, "okay."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Jenna’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @thenextdawn @alexkolax @aahdiieb @mindingmybidness12 @melthedwarf

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x you #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna x reader #my story

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