#sketchbook = any school notebook and i draw hearts not eyes
Text
Beautiful Stranger
03: The Name Of The Game
Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)
Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references
Words: 3.6k
warnings: fluff, too much fluff. flashbackks are on italics
Masterlist
Official playlist
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a/n: hello beautiful people! here we have this duo again. This are getting a little messy, right? don't worry, the best is about to come soon ;)
Every way of feedbask is very welcomed
🖌️
Don't think about him. Don't make a suspicious noise that would make him come. Don't. Don't. Don't. But those god damn blue eyes were staring back at me, so alive and so real.
"Uhg, no" I groaned, closing the sketchbook.
When I woke up I went as fast as I could to my art room, thinking that what I drew last night was some type of dream. That I was dreaming that I was drawing his eyes.
But no, they were real and captured on those thick papers, draws of his eyes from every angle I saw them.
"You are so stupid, Lily" I groaned, face palming myself.
I wanted to tear off the pages. But… those eyes were so beautiful, and they were looking at me.
"God, you are acting like a teenage" I groaned, closing the sketchbook and leaving it on the table. "So annoying"
I sighed, opening the window and looking at the sea. So close but so far at the same time. It's like the sea is calling me to go but I know that it won't be possible.
I grabbed my phone, playing soft music on the speaker, and focused on the empty canvas that was in front of me. I want to paint, but I don't know what. I want to do something since I can walk around the village or go to work, keeping my mind busy.
"What should I do with you?" I sighed, grabbing a pencil and taking a deep breath.
I sigh and let my hand work, moving all over the canvas.
Since I was little I always wanted to paint. My school notebooks were full of drawings. I secretly bought all the material I needed and hid it under the bed. I watched tutorials on the internet in the privacy of my bedroom.
I always did this alone.
"What the fuck?" I frowned when I saw what I was drawing. "No way, come on!"
It's as if my brain was letting my heart have the reins of my hands.
I groaned and grabbed an eraser, undoing everything that gave any type of hint about the crush of my brain.
"How can I be so ridiculous?" I sighed.
Baking is good, I don't have to draw someone, not even the guy next door with beautiful eyes… Stop!
"Oh dear Zeus, help me" I groan, tying my hair in a ponytail. "Not you, Aphrodite"
I always felt that every type of handmade thing was my specialty. I can draw, I can make jewelry, I can bake and cook. I would be a perfect housewife, just how my mother wanted.
Too bad I'm not that type of woman.
One of the things that really made me fall in love with Greece was the food. Those Mediterranean flavors were something addictive for me, and the pastry was something I needed to learn how to make.
"Shit…" I groaned, feeling the pain in my foot.
I shouldn't be standing up, if Logan knew he would come and push me to the couch immediately.
Logan, Logan, Logan… why the hell I can't stop thinking about him? Maybe it is the fact that he came running to check on me, worrying about me. Maybe my heart is saying that it’s a signal of some kind of fate.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous” I scoffed at myself. “Fate with him? Don’t make me laugh”
The angel in my shoulder was saying sweet things through my ear to my brain, trying to convince it that this was something new. I could hear how the devil in my other shoulder was getting in the argument too.
“I need air” I groan, going to the balcony and looking at the sea with some kind of sadness.
I wish I could be there, I wish I didn’t meet my neighbor, I wish none of this happened.
I wish…
“I wish you were never born!” she exclaimed, slapping my cheek, making the skin burn like if someone lightened a bonfire on ot. “You bring dishonor to this family!”
“But…” I mumbled, feeling the tears blurring my eyes. “Mom I don’t want to…”
“You have to” she stated, mad. I could see her eyes getting red with anger, how the vein of her neck was getting more visible as she tensed her jaw. “It will be in a week. You better not embarrass us more that you already did”
I gasped blinking quickly the tears, surprised by my own memory. I sniffled quickly, brushing the furtive tears that escaped my eyes and ran down my cheeks, making me sigh and hug myself.
No. Don’t get back there, Lily. You are better than this.
“You okay?” I heard him from the other side of the wall that separated the balconies.
I sigh and roll my eyes, closing them. It’s really impossible to not think about him.
“Are you crying? Are you in pain?” he kept asking, making me bite my lip.
“I’m okay, Logan” I said, more sharply than I wanted. “I’m just hating the fact that I can’t go to the beach because of this stupid bandage in my feet”
“I get it” he sighed.
I sigh and walk back inside the apartment, going around with the clutches. When I smelled that sweet scent coming from the oven I smiled, opening it and getting everything out of it.
I smiled proudly, looking at the perfectly made baklava and how the scent of it made my stomach growl in hunger. If you want to make a woman happy, give her her favorite meal.
I looked at the clock of the wall, biting my lip. I should make lunch, it's time for it. Morning went by pretty quick, thinking about a certain someone and trying to distract myself. It was good, refreshing. Something I really needed.
Peaky Blinders was playing in front of me, but I stopped it when I heard the front door opening.
"Hello?" I frown, looking at the front door, getting surprised to see Logan there. "Logan? What are you doing?"
"Do you have scissors?" he asked, walking inside the kitchen and placing the bag he brought on the table in front of me. "Oh, it smells nice, what is it?" he smiled pointing to the freshly made pastry.
"Baklava" I frown, following his movements with my eyes. "What are you doing?"
"I'm searching for the scissors" he said, opening the drawers. "I swear I saw some yesterday… here!"
I frown, looking at him turning around with the scissors on his hand and walking towards me, sitting in front of me.
"Put your foot here" he said, patting his thigh.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I frown looking at him, confused.
"You want to go to the water, right?" he asked me, sighing. "After you told me you were bad because you couldn't go to the beach I went back to the medical centre to talk with the doctor"
"You did what?" I mumbled surprised. He really did that?
"I talked with him" he said. "With the help of Google Translate, of course, and I had him on the phone with a friend that is physiotherapist"
I looked at him and swallowed thickly. Why is a stranger doing such things for me? I'm sure he feels guilty, because it was his fault I am like this.
"The doctor said that it wasn't too swollen, he put the bandage to immobilise the ankle And my friend said that with injuries like that he likes to use elastic bandages that can be taken off" he explained with a smile, making me look at him. "So… that's why I'll cut the bandage and put this"
"You… you did this… for me?" I was surprised.
No one did this for me. No one cared for me like this.
"Yeah" he nodded, opening and closing the scissors with a smile. "So, before I cut this bandage… Can I eat?"
"What?" I frown, suppressing a laugh.
"Yeah, I didn't have lunch" he said. "And that… thing looks and smells delicious"
"It's a musaka" I said looking at my plate. "I have more on the fridge"
"Okay" he smiled and got up, going to the fridge and opening it.
He walked around my apartment like he was in his own house. If someone else walked inside my house and grabbed everything like that I would be annoyed, but he wasn't annoying me. There was something in my brain that didn't turn on the alarms.
"God, you really are an amazing chef" he said after warming the plate and grabbing a fork, sitting next to me. "See, another thing I know about you"
There was something about him that didn't annoy me. Maybe it was his smile, how it reached his eyes. He looked friendly, shameless, open-minded.
"Why are you doing this?" I frown, leaving the fork on my plate.
"Doing what?" he frowned, talking with his mouth full and then swallowing it. "Eating?"
"No. This" I frown, moving my hands between us and them to the scissors and the bag. "Why?"
"You said you wanted to go to the beach" he repeated. "And I want to take you to the beach. That's it"
"Yesterday you said that I shouldn't go" I frown. "God, you are confusing me, Logan!"
"I felt bad when I heard you cry" he sighed. "I don't like knowing people feel bad, or are angry because of me. For once I want to make someone happy, even if that means doing a simple thing as going to the beach"
I look at him and sigh, eating again in silence.
No one did something like that for me. No one wanted to gesture like that for me.
"Come on, Liliane" my mother said, standing at the door.
"I don't want to!" I cried softly.
"Ah… don't act like a baby" she groaned, rolling her eyes. "Things like that happen. Dogs die and you'll keep living"
"He was my best friend!" I cried, hugging the small plushie he loved.
"Stop being a crybaby and get dressed!" she exclaimed. "Your father is waiting for us! This is important, Liliane!"
"I said no!" I cried harder, hiding under the blankets.
No one tried to make me smile after crying. My father used to buy me things to make me shut up. My mother used to look at me disappointed.
"Thank you" I whisper, swallowing the lump that memory left in my throat. "For doing this"
"It's okay" he smiled. "I'm bored, anyway. Some adventure and fun wouldn't be bad, you know?"
I smile weakly and nod.
Right, he's bored and now I'm his way of getting rid of boredom.
🎮
I always hated to hear girls cry. It really made me sad.
When my sisters cried when we were kids I always felt like a punch in my chest and I always tried to do something to make them smile again. When my friends cried because a man broke their heart I was always there for them.
And hearing Lily sniffling made my chest hurt. I don't know what it is, I don't know what attracts me to her, but I feel like an invisible force pushing me to her.
It's not a crush.
Or maybe it is?
After all this time, being famous and having a lot of girls following me hoping that I would choose them, meeting a girl that doesn't know who I am and tries to avoid me, is something that makes me interested.
Hearing her music in the morning is something I would like to get used to. Or smelling the scent of the things she baked.
Okay, yeah. Maybe I do have a crush on the girl next door that I barely know about.
"You shouldn't keep your foot down" I said pointing at her ankle. "Come on, put it here"
"But…" she frowned, looking at my thigh.
"No buts" I interrupted her, patting my thigh.
She sighed and placed her leg on my thigh with the help of her hands, letting out a sigh of relief afterwards. I smiled looking at her, watching how her shoulders relaxed and how she ate in silence.
"See? It's fine, I don't bite" I said smiling.
Then I saw her smile, while rolling her eyes. But it was a smile. And I swear it was the most beautiful smile I have ever seen in my entire life.
"Okay, so this is the plan" I said after I finished eating. "I cut this thing, we put that thing and then we'll go to the beach"
"And you know how to put that thing?" she asked, pointing at the bag. "What's that, by the way?"
"Oh, it's an elastic bandage" I said, grabbing the box and showing it to her. "I bought it before coming here"
"You didn't have to…" she mumbled, and I could see the blush in her cheeks.
"You wanted to go to the beach, then we'll go to the beach" I said, smiling. "I'll take you there"
"On the scooter?" she frowned.
"Yeah" I nod.
"Oh god, no. I think I changed my mind, I like to stay here and do nothing" she nodded.
"Very funny" I laughed. "I'm serious, Lily. I'll take you to the beach and you'll get in the water"
"You promise?" she asked, blushing and trying to not look at me.
"I promise" I nodded.
She giggled softly, finishing her meal and then looking at the kitchen counter. I looked at where she was looking and I got up slowly, leaving her foot on the chair where I was sitting, and grabbed our plates to wash them on the sink, washing them.
"You want to try the baklava?" she asked me.
"Oh definitely" I laughed. "What is it made of?”
“Basically pistachio and syrup” she explained. “It’s nice”
“Okay, then I want some” I smiled, grabbing two small plates and putting the portions on it.
There was something about her that made me want to be here, taking care of her and giving her my attention. It was like she put a spell on me, making my mind clouded. I can’t even know when it happened, when my heart and brain decided that I wanted to help her and take care of her.
“Oh fuck, it’s delicious” I gasped with my mouth full of this delicacy.
“Thanks” she smiled.
When we finished the pastry I washed the dishes again, and then I sat in front of her, with her foot on my thigh. I washed my hands and then looked at her.
"Wait, you know how to put that bandage?" she asked me, stopping me before cutting the bandage.
"Eh…" I frown looking at the box. "No"
I looked at the instructions, but they were in Greek. She sighed and grabbed the box, her fingers touching mine, making me blush softly.
"Okay… Yeah, I get it" she nodded. "Cut the bandage, then I'll explain you how to put it"
"Okay" I nodded.
I started to cut the bandage slowly, placing my hand on her skin. It's soft, so soft. I heard her sighing relieved when the bandage started to leave her skin, leaving marks on it.
"God, so good" she groaned after her foot was free of bandage. "You have no idea how good it feels"
"I can tell" I nodded, watching her ankle. It's a little swollen, and purple because of the blood. "God… I'm sorry I made this to you"
"It's okay" she sighed.
I smile weakly at her and sigh, grabbing the box and opening it. I did everything she told me to do, wrapping it on her foot and making sure she couldn't move it.
"Now go get changed" I said. "I'll get changed too, okay?"
"Okay" she sighed, looking at the bandage in her ankle. "Wear comfortable shoes to drive"
"I won't drive" I frown. "We'll go on scooter"
"Yeah, how innocent you are if you think that I'll go on a scooter with you again" she laughed, making me roll my eyes. "I have a car, we'll go on it. Plus, I still have to use the crutches, it will be easy to wear them"
"Okay…" I sighed.
I walked out of her apartment to get changed. Thank god I searched on the Internet where I was coming and packed beach things.
I took a deep breath and started to get changed. But then I started to think…
What if someone sees me? What if they find me? We'll go to a beach with more people on it, right? If one of them knows who I am, I'm really fucked up. No, I can't go to the beach. I can't, I can't.
Why the hell do you do things without thinking first, knowing that you'll regret doing them, Lando?
"Hello?" I heard her knocking on my door. "Logan? Are you ready?”
“Eh…” I frown, being taken out of my thoughts. “Y-yeah”
I sighed, grabbing my backpack and hanging it on my shoulder. I opened the front door and I swear I nearly died. Lily was standing in front of me, wearing a baby blue summer dress and her hair tied on a braid that falls on her right shoulder.
God, please help me to control myself.
“Are you ready?” she asked me with a smile.
How can I say no to her?
“Yeah” I smiled weakly, getting out of the apartment. “Do you need help?”
“No…” she frowned, looking at the stairs, then she sighed and smiled weakly. “Please?”
I chuckled and nodded, going some stairs down and she grabbed my backpack and put it on her back. I felt her hands on my shoulder and how she took a step closer to my back. I’ll have to hold her thighs, her body close to mine.
God help me please.
“My car is there” she said, pointing to a white car that was near us.
Of course it was a car that screamed Greece vibes. She’s the representation of what every girl wants to have after watching those Mamma Mia movies.
“Cool car” I nodded, walking towards it with her still in my back.
“Very sarcastic” she said, patting my shoulder.
“No, I’m serious!” I laughed, placing her on the ground. “It’s a cool car for a place like this that have rocky roads near”
She chuckled and nod, walking to the backseats and leaving our bags there.
Why do I have that feeling of being comfortable seeing her do something as simple as that? God, I hate those feelings.
“Let’s go” she smiled, sitting in the passenger seat.
“Ehm… there’s a chance… to go to some type of small beach? Like… with not a lot of people in it?” I asked before starting the car.
“What?” she frowned, looking at me surprised. “Woah, woah… stop there you creep!”
“No! What? No! I’m not saying that” I exclaimed, understanding what she was thinking about. “It’s… well… I have agoraphobia”
Three lies already. Hoe can I be so fucking stupid?
“Oh… Oh!” she gasped. “And a beach full of people won’t help… I get it, yeah”
“Yeah” I smiled weakly.
“Oh, I know one” she smiled, grabbing her phone and putting the GPS on it.
I took a deep breath and started driving where the GPS said, parking where she told me. At this point I’m praying that she doesn’t discover that I have been lying to her since the start.
“Here we are” she smiled once we were in the sand.
Only a few people were there. And all of them were old people, women talking between them. I should be content with this.
I followed her, she was walking slowly to not hurt her foot, and then she placed her bag on the sand, taking her towel and laying it there. She took off her sundress, letting me see the white bikini she is wearing, and taking off the bandage.
How can she be so beautiful?
“Can you help me go to the water?” she asked me, looking back at me. “I promise I won’t swim, I’ll go until the water reaches my chest”
“I’ll go with you” I said, putting the towel down on the sand and taking off my shirt and shoes.
I felt her eyes on me, and it made me blush. Do I have a boner? No, maybe not yet.
“Come on” I said, holding her hands and helping her get up, trying to not look at her when she stood in front of me.
She walked slowly, groaning everytime she had to take a step with her bad foot. I just sighed and stood next to her, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and then my arm around her waist, helping her walk.
“Better?” I asked, hearing her sigh.
“Yeah” she nodded.
The moment her feet touched the cold water she sighed louder, making me smile. We walked slowly into the water, she was holding my shoulders and I was holding her waist.
"Good?" I asked her.
She nodded and took a deep breath, then I saw her close her eyes and get underwater, making me gasp.
"Lily!" I exclaimed, holding her close to me. "What the fuck was that!"
"I wanted to have the rest of my body wet" she frowned, holding my shoulders since I was hugging her waist.
We didn't say anything else. She was floating and I held her close to my body. We were silent, any word exchanged between us.
She licks her lips, making me look at them. They look… kissable-
No. Stop it.
"Hi" she whispered, her hands on my shoulders.
"Hi" I whisper back, looking into her eyes.
God, give me strength to not kiss her right now. Give me strength to not do something as stupid as kissing a stranger.
God, give me strength to not fall for her as hard as I'm already falling.
taglist
@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster8 @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold @im-an-overthinker @soosheee @karmabyfernando @landoyesrizz
#f1#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 fanfics#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x y/n#f1 x oc#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#lando norris#lando norris x oc#lando norris blurb#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine
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Marked For Life
Eddie Munson x Male Reader
SFW
A young man sat in a backless rolling chair, hunched over their sketchbook as they worked on finishing up a flash sheet of florals for their boss as the bell on top of the front door to the shop rang, the jingle covered by the rock music blasting throughout the shop. It was nine in the morning on a weekday and only him and the shop owner was in at that moment, the other artists reserving themselves to come in once their usual rush hours hit.
Y/N bounced their head along to the music as he finished the spit shading and lifted up the paper off of the transfer sheet and admired it. ‘Just one more week.’ He thought to himself. He had been certified for months, had built his own machine and was more than heavily stocked up on supplies but his boss had held out on letting him take up a booth in the shop. Either telling him the same old story about the owner still not being convinced on them, shops in the neighboring cities had a tendency of poaching artists fresh or otherwise.
Breaking down the other artists set ups, answering the phone, keeping track of bookings and check outs all whilst building their portfolio. It was a thankless job but to him it was worth it, beyond worth dropping out of school to pursue the opportunity he’d been given. “Y/N! Get out here!” The shop owner Fuji was calling out to him over the music and they immediately jumped out of the chair and headed that way towards the store front, sore from sitting in that position for too long.
He leaned against the arched doorway for a moment stretching, “Yeah?” He’d expected them to ask them to go on a coffee run before the others showed up but when they opened their eyes and saw the owner leaning on the counter with an unamused look on their face and a young man with long, curly brown hair standing opposite of them with a sheet of loose leaf notebook paper out in front of them he opened his mouth again to speak.
“You didn’t hear this dude banging away on the bell?” Well, if you could’ve been honest with him no you hadn’t. The constant loud buzzing of the machines coupled with the shop music had done your ears in quite a bit. But you couldn’t respond like that. “No sir, I’m sorry about that..” Y/N made his way over, standing next to the man his age. Trying to ignore the feeling of their dark eyes as they bore into him whilst he looked at the drawing on the paper done fully in black pen with a messy signature at the top. ‘Eddie Munson’.
“Okay kid, like I was saying..” He pointed to the paper on the counter. “Even if I had anyone in the shop right now, something like this wouldn’t be in your price range.” The man had finally been able to pull his eyes off of you before scoffing lightly, a grin on his face as he did so.
“Wow, okay well first off, I’m not a kid. Secondly how do you even know my price range?” Y/N’s lips tightened into a line as he looked away from the interaction. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or feel bad for them as he knew his boss well enough at this point, he didn’t like when people got an attitude with him. He was ‘too old for that shit’ as he’d put it. ‘Kid’ was the nicest thing he could be called at any given time, the guy should be happy he hadn’t been called shithead’ or something else along those lines.
The boss man watched as they pulled their folded black wallet connected to their belt loop by a chain out of their pocket and pulled a fifty dollar bill that looked like it had been through a washing machine at least five times out and slapped it on the counter confidently. “There.”
Fuji grunted as he bent down and pulled one of the thick binders out from under the table top and slid it across the counter, Y/N knew that book. It had the shop minimum flash designs in it. Your usual tiny hearts, butterflies, stars and letter work for those generic couple types who came in to get each other’s initials tattooed a week before the breakup. “The shop minimum is eighty, but that kid-” He pointed to you. “He hasn’t tattooed shit a day in his life, I’ll let him do something out of there on you for fifty.”
Eddie opened the booklet and quickly flipped through it before looking back up with a look of confusion. “Uh, no.”
“Then no deal. Come back next year and hopefully grandma gives you more birthday money next time.” He chuckled at his own shitty joke and pulled the binder back towards him to put up as the man grabbed the sheet of paper and money off the counter, effectively crumpling both before storming out of the shop. Y/N watched him disappear out the door, the tinted windows hiding them from further view.
“Hey boss man? Let me go talk to them real quick. I need a cigarette anyway.” You bounced on your feet waiting to get the okay from them before rushing out after them. Fuji rolled his eyes and motioned with his hand for you to get out. He knew you would probably grovel on your hands and knees to that kid to convince them to get something meaningless out of the booklet if it meant you could finally hit some skin.
Which was close to being true, you might’ve been inclined to beg if you thought it would be necessary. Just as you pushed open the front door and looked around the smoking area out front you saw them sitting on one of the benches dejectedly holding their drawing.
“Hey!“ Y/N jogged over and grabbed the piece of paper out of their hands, beginning to look it over more closely. “Look, my boss is supposed to leave in like..five minutes.” You checked the time on your watch before looking back down at them.
“And?”
You cursed and scrambled to pull your cigarette pack out of the back pocket of your black jeans. Your mind was racing and it was like your skin was vibrating as you thought about finally getting to do your first piece on someone. Along with the adrenaline rushing through you from what you were planning on doing. Your artist was going to kick your ass.
“So, I’ll do it.” You mumbled around the cigarette in your mouth with excitement as you took a seat next to him on the bench and went over his design. It was a beat up looking coffin with two roses on each side at the bottom with scribbled in shading, or coloring, you weren’t exactly sure.
Eddie looked at you as you talked to him about the specifics of what you knew you could get done but it was almost like he zoned out through most of it. You seemed so familiar to him, he’d thought the same thing when he saw you walk out from the backrooms. You couldn’t be younger than him if you worked here and you definitely weren’t older. But with the amount of tattoos you had already it seemed make since that you would be to have had the time to accumulate them, the black tank top that clung to you allowed him to see the countless pieces that covered your upper arms. Leading his eyes to travel to your neck and then down to the hem of the shirt, preventing him from viewing your chest piece in full.
“Hey, buddy—“ You snapped your fingers and smirked at his slightly dazed expression. “You okay? I’m not putting something on you if you’ve been drinking or anything..”
“Huh? No! I mean..no. I haven’t been drinking. It’s just..” Eddie cracked a smile in an attempt to cover his embarrassment from being caught looking at you way too hard. “I feel like I know you from somewhere? If that makes sense?”
Y/N ashed his cigarette and handed him the drawing back. “Doesn’t everyone in Hawkins know everyone else?”
“So you’ve always lived here?” Eddie watched them nod and stand up, shaking their hands out to get ready for the session, knowing how tense in them he got when holding anything for an extended amount of time.
“Since elementary school, yeah. We gotta go do paperwork before he fucks off, just pretend to pick something alright?” Eddie stood up as they tossed their cigarette butt out into the parking lot that extended out from where they had been sitting and followed them back inside. They were quick to change face before they headed back inside, the serious look on their face replaced the one of enthusiasm they had when talking about the piece of art that would soon be on his body forever.
Eddie raked his brain as he filled out the short form for the shops records, desperately trying to think of where they remember them from. School? That was definitely a possibility, seeing them in the hallway in passing, though he couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t have at least attempted to approach them. If they were even half as intimidating as they are now back then that would make more sense. Damn it! This was going to drive him crazy!
“Alright.” The owner walked out of the backrooms where Y/N was meticulously prepping their set up so he’d be able to have it completely ready and out of the way, saving more time for getting the stencil ready and then the actual tattooing process. Eddie stopped tapping his fingers on the table and stood up straight when the bearded man made his way over, snatching up the filled out form and looking it over briefly.
“Mhm..Okay.” He put it back down, taking note that ‘Eddie Munson’ was the same age as his fledgling apprentice. “Don’t fuck this up by trying anything kid, You’re lucky the door was even unlocked when you got here.” And with that he look his leave. Trusting Y/N to get him out before the other artists arrived after lunch. Perhaps he wasn’t a full fledged resident yet but this would definitely be something to tell the others about, he knew Y/N had been jumping at the chance to tattoo someone other than himself.
Eddie waited for the front door to close before rushing through the doorway to see Y/N folding Eddie’s drawing back up, the stencil finished. “Whoa, that was fast.”
“I’ve gotta be fast, the others will kill me if they find out what I’m doing..” He sighed and got up out of the chair he’d pulled up beside the booth an arm rest pulled up in front of that. “Sit. You want it on the other forearm right?” Eddie nodded and did as he was told although their back as turned as they pulled on a pair of black latex gloves. “Okay, shave it.”
“What? I didn’t have to shave last time I got one done..” Eddie looked at the little disposable razor on the metal side table where other things sat neatly laid out.
“Dude, no offense but didn’t you get those when you were like sixteen?” Actually he had been seventeen.
“So you do know me! We went to school together, right?”
Y/N rolled his eyes and made his way back over to his seat, picking up the razor and holding his free hand out to indicate he wanted him to give him his arm. “I told you. Everyone knows everyone in Hawkins..”
Eddie was beaming like a dumbass now knowing he wasn’t the only one to recognize the other person. Y/N actually clocked him a lot quicker after seeing his name on paper. His hair was a hell of a lot longer but his kitchen scratch tattoos were signature, he couldn’t forget Munson. “What happened to you? I haven’t seen you in school in..hell I don’t know how long.”
The young man looked up from the now freshly shaved arm with a perplexed expression. “You’re still in high school?”
Well damn, way to make him embarrassed about it now. Not that he had ever been proud of the fact, actually he was always very embarrassed when the topic was brought up.
“Explains a lot.”
“Yeah, like what?”
Y/N half smiled as he grabbed the transfer sheet and rolled over to dab his gloved finger in some Vaseline to rub on first. “Explains why your band is full of kids.” Ooo you— you had him there. Maybe not really, Gareth was the only one who really looked like a teenager still. All the Hellfire members would give him shit about his baby face.
“Wait wait, hold on.” Y/N looked up after laying down the stencil, hoping it was perfect despite Eddie’s mouth constantly moving. “You’ve seen my band? Like, us actually play?” His face was so bright with that smile, it made you feel silly.
“Don’t cream your pants, it’s not like there’s much other live music around here.” You peeled up the paper and looked it over letting your eyes come back up to meet his. That bastards’ face was way too close to yours! Pushing your rolling chair back with your feet to get a little distance before clearing your throat and motioning for him to make sure it was placed exactly how he wanted it.
“Oh..Yeah, looks good to me.” Eddie replied after giving it perhaps a five second look over.
“Are you sure?” Y/N pressed. This was his first tattoo ever on someone else, his first client essentially, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.
“I trust ya’ big guy.”
This was exactly why neither of them had interacted up until this point. They both had this intimidating air about them but at any give time they would have made the other embarrassed in a heartbeat. It was almost disgusting of Eddie to be relaying the mans’ earlier words as the whir of the tattoo machine began. Eddie wasn’t a fan of pain, at all, and when Y/N started to go in on the line work it successfully made his thoughts of creaming his pants retreat. “Fuck..”
Y/N stopped, pulling his hands away from his skin momentarily. “You haven’t ever had one done sober have you.”
Eddie tried and failed to hold back a chuckle before they started again. Using two of their gloves fingers to hold the skin taught as he drew on him painfully. “Nope.” He watched as Y/N’s tongue flicked out across their lip and they caught their tongue piercing between their teeth, a normal act he did when concentrating but this time it was on two things at once. Not fucking up this tattoo and not laughing.
Eddie was actually finding it pretty easy to concentrate on your face as you worked on him. Your eyes, your mouth. Fuckin’ pretty boys always got to him. “So why do this for me? Your boss said it would be expensive.”
“I don’t get paid either way, I might as well take the opportunity to do something nice for once.” Y/N dipped into the black ink in the little cap again before shifting into a better position for the shading process, he wasn’t giving him any color so it was actually going very quickly. For several minutes neither of them talked and when they did that the pain seemed to be more intense for Eddie, if you looked up at him you’d see the little muscle in his jaw clench along with his teeth and eyes until finally he had to say something to break the quiet streak.
“So Y/N, I’ve got a question.”
“Shoot.” Y/N tried to stay stoic and in the zone as he rubbed a bit of moisturizing ointment on the tattoo, hoping it could help calm the skin down some. The paler you were the more red and angry the skin tended to get he’d noticed.
“You smoke weed?” He hung his head, failing at suppressing the grin on his face so badly that it almost rivaled Eddie’s.
“Would I? With you? Never.” He tried to avoid looking at the man’s face but it was near impossible, especially when he heard him give a gasp as if you’d wounded him.
“And why is that? Don’t you think this right here is a bonding experience? You’ve marked me for life, the least I could do is repay you with something other than money.” Eddie watched you cover go to double dip, he was too distracting.
“Oh so this is intimate to you huh?” You went ahead and started going in on the finishing touches before he could reply with words, pulling a low hum from him that was drowned out by the buzz of the machine.
“Ugh! Fuck you..” He finally chirped when you stopped, pulling his arm off of the cushioned rest. He hadn’t been ready.
“You wish Munson.” You flashed him a cheeky smile as he held his arm, eyes on you. His mouth was slightly agape as if he’d heard something pornographic.
“Get your dirty little hands off that thing before you get it infected, Alcohol and then we’re done.” Dirty? Alcohol? Done?
“What the fuck, we’re done? It’s already done?” He pulled his hand off of his arm and stretched it back out in front of him, admiring your work silently. Until you grabbed your green tinted bottle of alcohol off of your station and gave it a spray. He could have killed you, he felt like you’d tried to kill him. It worse than getting the damn thing done times eleven!
“Oh no you don’t!” You dropped the bottle and quickly reached forward to grab his hands to keep him from touching it again. Once again you found yourself so close to his face, you could see every line in it as he bit his lip, looking back at you with a pained, pitiful expression.
“You did that on purpose.”
Y/N chuckled and nodded his head before they locked eyes again. “I had to. You know, disinfectant n’ all.”
“One star review, no, zero star review. ‘The cute tatted up bastard assaulted me when we were done, I demand a refund.’ That’s what I’m going to say.”
Your eyebrows shot up hearing that. It was a funny joke, but ‘cute’? That was blatant disrespect. That was hurtful. And it was flirting.
“I’m charging you full price now, two ounces of your best. Delivered.” You made sure to lean in closer as you inundated the curly haired man with certain feelings. He could smell the smoke on your breath from earlier you were so close.
“Jokes on you big guy, I can only get one ounce at a time.”
“Sounds like you need a new guy then.” Y/N let him go and immediately stood up to go retrieve the one thing he’d forgotten, a sheet of plastic wrap. Eddie was floored, perhaps even enamored. Were you some kind of jack-of-all-trades?
“You got the number for one?”
And the rest is history. Eddie wasn’t smooth by any means, but he had successfully gotten both a hot man’s phone number and some new ink. And in the end he made sure to promise to only come to them from here on out, with more money next time.
#stranger things#stranger things one shot#stranger things x male reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x m!reader#eddie munson x male reader#eddie munson x male!reader#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson concept#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson fluff#sfw#fluff oneshot#male reader insert#x male reader
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Hello! I’ve never done this before so if this suck you can absolutely skip this. (I did make sure to read your rules and I hope I didn’t break any of them.)
How about a fluff of Jack and Deuce (separate) where the reader is an artist that wants to use their hands as reference to practice since they think that their hands look very expressive? And maybe y/n ends up wanting to draw them as a whole afterwards.
Like I said, you can skip this if you want but Thank you for your time! ^^
author's note: AAAA Thank you so much for this request anon!! I loved writing it, it's a really original idea and I also love the characters you requested sooo double win! I hope you like it <3 (also dw, you didn't break any rules)Characters may be OOC, Jack's part is a bit longer than Deuce's.
content warnings: none
Characters: Jack, Deuce(separate) x gn!reader
Hands on a canvas
Being an artist in Twisted Wonderland was probably the best thing that could ever happen in your life. Since you have been transported to the new world you have never lacked the desire to portray everything of this world that always fascinates you.
Your artistic skills have also been a big help for other people like Azul and the Leech twins, who asked for your thoughts and opinions about their menu's design, and to the students who are in charge of the costumes and backstage work in the film research club.
You're laying on the bed of your room in ramshackle, thinking about the amount of time you spent in twisted wonderland, its people. Your mind then immediately wanders to your home, your world.
When will you be able to return to the place you really belong to?
You immediately cast these thoughts out of your mind.
Being depressed won't change the situation you're in.
To distract yourself, you decide to focus on what you love doing: drawing.
You open the bedside drawer next to you and take a sketchbook and a pencil to get started, you then grab your phone and make your way towards a desk near the window of the room where you usually spend your time drawing or doing your homework.
You look out of your window to find new things to draw but there aren't any, just the same trees and flowers...sure, at first it was nice drawing them but after a while anyone would get tired of portraying the same scenery. You sigh and grab your things, ready to go out and find something or someone to sketch.
You start walking around the school to find inspiration and you finally find it when you come across the track and field club or rather a member of it: Jack.
You watch as he plays on the field of the track club and you can't seem to pull your eyes away from him, almost mesmerized by his energy. You slowly start to sit down on the ground and open your notebook, your gaze never leaving Jack's figure.
Your attention shifts on his hands, you always liked his hands and thought they are very expressive and without thinking about it you start to sketch them in different ways. When you tear you eyes away from your drawings and look towards the field once again, you find jack staring at you.
For a moment you don't know what to do, but then he waves at you with an almost unnoticable smile on his lips.
Your heart skipping a beat and you swear that blood rushed to your face, making it hot and red. After a few seconds of you trying to recover from the shock, you smile back at him, returning the greeting and Jack goes back to the other members of the club to continue his game.
You follow with your gaze the figure of the boy who hoes back to his club activities amd you can't help but think of his delicate smile that he showed you earlier. Your heart skips a beat again and you start drawing his face on the white paper, with the intention of portraying not only Jack, but also the deep feelings you have for him.
"Is there something wrong with my hands?" Deuce asks in the cafeteria while you, him, Ace and Grim were sitting together, eating your lunch.
You've been staring at his hands since the moment you sat down across from him with a noticeable interest and a bit of intensity, but you can't help it! The reason is that you have been practicing drawing hands for a long time, but recently the practice is not going well and the results are not what you quite expected and the pile of tattered and rolled up drawing paper in the trash can of your dorm can testify your failed experiments of drawing human anatomy. So you've been thinking about using someone's hands as a refernce.
You've always liked Deuce's hands and you tought they would be the perfect reference for your drawings. You just had to find a good way to ask him if you could his hands as a model.
"It's just that recently I've been trying to practice my drawing skills, to be more specific, I'm practicing drawing hands but I'm...uh...quite failing at it ahah" akward ass laugh.
Deuce looks at you for a few seconds and his gaze moves to his hands and then to you again, this continues for a few seconds before he asks in an almost embarassed way:
"Would you..like to use my hands as a reference then?"
Hard to believe, but Deuce understood your intentions.
At this point we might as well believe that the end of the world is coming
You immediately accept his help with a big grin on your face and literally DRAG HIM out of the cafeteria when you finish eating, not even caring about ace who was still sitting at the table drowning in his food.
After successfully finding a bench to sit on, you open your notebook and grab your pencil (two items you won't leave your house without) and start sketching using deuce's hands as a reference.
While drawing you explain to Deuce all your drawing techniques and show many of your sketches in the album, which receive many compliments and positive comments from the blue-haired boy. You also explain to him that you were hoping he would offer you help in your attempts of drawing hands, as you particularly appreciate the expressiveness that his hands have, and you swear that you've seen the tip of his ears turn a bit red.
You didn't mind it and kept drawing until you both had to back to class, promising to each other that you would spend more time together to practice.
Before parting ways you gave him one of the drawings you did of his hands, something he would cherish forever.
#disney twst#twst x reader#twst fanfic#twst headcanons#twst#twst fluff#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twst x you#jack howl#twst jack#deuce spade#twst deuce#jack howl x reader#deuce spade x reader#twst yuu#twst requests#twst fanfiction
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dating will byers (male readers) <3
will is mlm, so this is for any male readers. love u all, muah. we need more representation for mlm will byers.
• will was too shy to make the first move
• when he first moved to california, you decided to help him out and get him settled in school.
• you showed him around the school, you see him sneaking you nervous glances
• his cheeks were pink and his hands were shaking slightly
• you were an oblivious motherfucker
• when alone in the art room, you came up in front of him and took his hands in yours
• “hey, it’s going to be okay. starting a new school is scary but i’ll be with you every step of the way” you told him, hoping to comfort him
• you SWORE you saw his soul leave his body
• after talking to your friends about it, they swore up and down he had a massive crush on you
• “what? me? no way.” you denied
• but then you started thinking about it as the day went on
• it hit you like a truck.
• you had second period art with him.
• you decided to make a small move. you took a seat next to him and started making subtle moves.
• he caught on pretty fast, desperately trying to flirt back but failing miserably (he was too nervous)
• you asked him to come over to your house to hang out that day
• he came over, you could tell he was nervous but really really excited when you opened the door.
• that cute grin and how he couldn’t keep his hands still, he kept tapping his foot and you could tell he was messing with his hair in the reflection of the window outside.
• you told him you liked DND, so he brought all of his old DND books & his old campaign planning notebooks
• the notebooks were filled, you read through them and his handwriting was so..pretty.
• he wrote in gorgeous cursive, it almost looked fake it was so perfect.
• you complimented him on it, you could see him getting flustered and he kept messing with his hands, refusing eye contact.
• once he got comfortable, he was a chatterbox.
• he talked about everything: his mom, his brother, hid brothers best friend, painting, his sister, DND, school, his old town, and some kid named mike (you didn’t like him that much already from what will had told you )
• after awhile, will was insanely comfortable around you.
• “i haven’t felt this close with anyone really since mike.” he told you, you cringed at the mention of mike tbh.
• one day after he went home after a full day of hanging out..
• you saw that he left his sketchbook.
• you knew it was probably bad to do..but you looked through it.
• you found a drawing of you, it was so detailed and his skills were amazing.
• you looked so..handsome in the drawing. did he really see you like this?
• then you noticed a little folded piece of paper in the back of the book.
• curiosity got the best of you.
• you unfolded it and read it.
• it was a love letter to you.
• “y/n, the best day of my life will always be when you came up to me and talked to me for the first time. a cautious glance, a calculated smile, my heart fluttering with anticipation and admiration. though it seemed unthinkable at the time, something tells me this was a moment of destiny. i wasn’t just meeting a handsome stranger, i was meeting the boy who was destined to love me. i was meeting the boy who would become my dearest and closest friend and my deepest and strongest desire..”
• the rest seemed unwritten, maybe like he ran out of pen ink or like he had to do something else before finishing it.
• you felt your face get pink and the butterflies swarm in your stomach.
• you looked up, seeing will standing in the doorway.
• “i forgot my sketchbook..” he trailed off towards the end of his sentence.
• you walked up to him, staring at him in the eyes.
• you took his left hand in yours, and you cupped his face with your right hand.
• you leaned in towards his face.
• his lips were so close to touching yours.
• you clashed your lips onto his, the kiss seeming to last forever.
• he held onto your left hand until his knuckles were turning white.
• you could feel his pulse pounding.
• will was in shock, his face was bright red and you could tell he was flustered.
• “i love you.” was all he could muster up, it came out in a mumble
• you chuckled, your right hand still cradling his face.
• “i love you more, byers.” you lightly laughed as you went in for another kiss.
#will byers#stranger things pov#stranger things#will byers is the main character#will byers fic#will byers x reader#stranger things x male reader#stranger things x reader#for mlm#mlm concept#mlm fic#Spotify
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Trapped online chapter1- The Start
*alarm goes on and switches it off*
Inaaya: another day at school, *stretches they're arms* okay shit let's do this! *puts clothes on* alright got my bag, what time is it? *looks at time to see it's 7:37* i'll wait for aboutttt 3 mintues or so on, *sits on bed* god time went quick, *looks at watch again to see it's 7:40* alright, *puts shoes on and walks out* oh, i almost forgot, *takes out a packet of chewing gum* hmmm strawberry or bubble mint?? eh Strawberry. *starts chewing it while walking* ugh why does it have to be night time and i always go through these stupid woods for nothing...*couple mintues later made to the bus stop* hmmm *looks at time to see it's now 7:53* perfect time, now wait for this stupid bus....i remember moving in with my dad along with my grandparents and to help them out too. *exhales* i remember saying to my dad about mum...how she was evil....maybe she- *bus stopped right in front of Inaaya* damn that was quick. *gets on bus*
(time skip)
Inaaya: finally i am here, *cross the road* school i guess it's alright the only friends that i have are teachers, *opens door* welp time for school...time for SCHOOL!....hehehhe....let my torture end well please,
(in class)
Mrs Massie: Alright guys today-
Inaaya: *drawing/writing something on they're notebook* hmm hmm~ ummmm why is everyone staring at me?
Mrs Massie: Inaaya is it okay to hold u back by the end of this peirod?
Inaaya: uhh suree....
*bell rings all the kids get they're stuff and went to the next class all expect Inaaya who is talking to they're math teacher about stuff*
Mrs Massie: Inaaya? you do know you've been like this for months now, i get it your parents are divorced, your cousin died and your thinking about su-
Inaaya: OKAY OKAY YOU ALL TEACHERS ARE WORRIED BUT I TRY TO STAY FOCUS MUCH I LOVE TOO BUT I-...i can't...i-i just CAN'T!....
Mrs Massie: does your guidance teacher know about this?
Inaaya: ohhh yeah always with the guidance teachers when will you lot will open up to kids see what's in they're hearts?
Mrs Massie:...
Inaaya: i shouldn't have told any teacher about my problems, for the record i like depression....and killing myself everyday...*walks out and starts muttering and having the voices in there head* S-shut up....
*your ungrateful, useless, you should've died right now....*
Inaaya: *exhales and inhales multiple times and after opening the door everything stopped and your whole class stares at you making eye contact* sorry...i was late i was pulled back....
Mrs Thorpe: it's fine just go sit down,
Inaaya: *sits down taking they're bag and jacket off* kay, *gets sketchbook and over hears people muttering and talking about stuff* why was i even stuck with idiots anyway? they're all have parent-less figures....at least my teachers trust me usually i think of them as friends...*sighs* i wish sometimes i was a adult that works in this school...
*couple of hours later bell rings and everybody went home*
Inaaya: finely home...*sits in spinning chair* time for tumblr...hm? wait a second? *looks at computer screen closely and glares right into it* huh. Warnings??? is this on the news. *clicks the news report*
?: breaking news the internet has went crazy people are stuck in whatever you do- ̸̧͖͚͎̟̭̲̥́͑͒̐̄̚͜͜ͅn̸̡̦̞̹̼͙̬͍͛̒̈̐̋͗͆͒̽̔̐ǫ̵̧̛̮̣̬̟̣̫̘́̀̈̈́̊̂̏t̵͖̹̫̜̰̿̿̎̂̆̇̓͊͗̓́͗̓͛̈́ͅ ̸̧̮̳̲̰̩̫̰̱͓͓̺̻̝̾͗͜g̶͎͉̱̺̟̺̈́͋͐͒͊̍̓̇͘͠ǫ̷̘̞̪̯̯̝́͋̇̂̂́̈́̓̄̒̊̕͘ ̷̙̺͕̙̍̿̕͜ỉ̸͖̀͆̈ǹ̵̜̪ ̵̧̜͕̰̤͕̯͚̳̤̟̖̃̈͂͠ͅt̵̘̝̠̫͕̗̜̻̻̰̮̜̐h̷̗̦̱͔̗̙́̉͘ẽ̷̺͇͕̫͙͔̜̘̰̰̻̘̆̏s̷̖̝̹̯̯̺̘͖͈̮̘̭̲͕͊̂̃̆͂̒͒̃̄͛̃̕̕é̴̫͖ ̷̡̛̝̰̬̖̖̰̏̉̍́̾̇͋̑ą̸̢̥̣̺̻̤̙͓̙̮̬͆͗͗͂̓͐̈́ͅp̶̛̮̤͂͊̔͌̔͊̐̓̌͠p̵̢̥̔͐͐̆̾͂̃̅̆̐̚͘͠͝s̶̫̟͔͎̬͕̃̀̊͌̏̈́͒̽̆͠ͅ a̷̭̖̥̔̀̒͑͗̊̅͆͊̈́͂͑̅̉n̵͎̗͇̹̙̽̈́̑̂̉̓́͋͊̌̌͘ḑ̴̗̖̠̥͇̤̦͈̥̥̗̗͊͠ ̴̧̺̥̩̱͎̩̻̲̺̙̟̤̹͛͌͒͝i̵̝͂̑̈́̓̏f̷̡̗̙̬̘̤͍̘͚̒̽̔̓̂̔͛͌͒̿̿͘͘ ̴̙̭͈̫̮͖̹̹͂̌̈̌ỳ̷̛͉̹͓͎̙̈́̃͑͛͐̃̾͌̈́̄̆̌o̸̪͕̾̌͋͑̅ͅų̷̠̰͍̠̦̳̝͙̘̰̘̏̿̏̎̾̈́̈́͋͂̈͆͜͜͠ ̵̢̧̳̪̼̗̰̩̺̣̖̪͗͋͌̓̀̃̕͠s̵͓̖̪̽̈̾ẽ̴̱͕̟͎͖̠̪̫̯̦̟̘̫ͅè̵̡̨͖̹̦̖̜̣̝̩͕̻͛͑͗̅͆́̈́͛̉̄͛͌͗̍ ̶̢͈̱̘͖͚̙̣̌̈́̐̑̾̇͊ͅg̴̢̛̖̦͎̰̦̬̗͙̤ͅ-̶̗͉͔͈̋͂̆̽̕ͅͅ
Inaaya: wait NO NO NO! what did it mean? ughhh must be a lot of bulls1ht no way the internet's went "THAT" crazy maybe a error or...glitch....?ugh screw it...*goes on tumblr seeing it's glitching, Inaaya stands up and shakes it to make it stop and it stopped* phew...see maybe just shake your devices the next time maybe they wouldn't be dumb enough for a tiny glitch, and i hope that wasn't true. well that was enough drama for toda- *sees a white dot in the middle of the screen* okay that's normal, *the dot gets bigger and until* why do i feel like something trying to- *gasp* OKAY I REGRET IT I REGRET IT! *shouts and screams for help* HELP! *gets fully sucked in and falls downwards into void and is sucking Inaaya down*
AHHHHHH! w-what is this place?! ohhh here we go-*see's a beautiful world while falling* woah i guess the interent is full of amazements...
*still screaming and gets down to a field of somewhere? Inaaya crash down but is still alive?* myy head! um...w-where are we? *looks around* what the fffffff....okay this is fine it's all a dream...*breaths in and starts to panic* OH FUCK WHERE ARE WE!? AHHHHHH! i was just looking at my computer screen that's all. heheh....Huh! *looks at the storm that's coming towards them* oh there's a storm phew-THERE'S A STORM!? we get the storms in internet?! okayyy THAT'S NOT THE INTERNET IS MEANT TO DO! should i run? there's people underneath the storm maybe i can draw there attention?*waves they're hand* HEY OVER HERE!
???: look another one of those pitiful interns? what should we do to that one???
??1: they don't look much amusing just kill em,
???: come on g̶̛̾͂̔͒͂̍̆͑̍̃̾̆͝ͅĺ̷̘̥̻̦̜̥͚̞̅̓̊̋͛̑̆̂̊̒͌͛̚̚͜͜ͅi̵̗̗̝͉̗͈͇̞̞͇͍̰̍̓̌̎́̈́͊̃̎͝͠ͅt̶͈̓͗̈́̀̀͗͂̈͘͠͝ĉ̸͙͉̪͖̞̮̱̂̄͋̂̊͆͐́͜͜ḩ̶̢͎͎̦̗̣̯͕̩̣̒͝ ̶̮̮̼́͑̃͠͠s̸͖̮̱̈́̑̋͒̉ẗ̸̮̳͈̳̬͓͇́͒̆̽̈́̕͠ơ̵̡̡͍̫̹̰͚̝̜̞̖̺̖͙͊̔̂͂͌̓͐͆̔̾̆͘̚r̵̢̡̛̥̼͓̈́̔̀͂̔̇͋͗̅͆̊͝͝m̸̡̧̫̺̜̘̮͇̼̰͕͓̼͇̿̈́͑̄̾͊̓̄̚̚s̷̡̞̩͔͚̜̣̳͉͎̹͔̻̿͂͐̓̿̌͋̑̊͌̉́͝!
Inaaya: they're glitching maybe i shouldn't wave at them, *face palms and runs to this giant city* SOMEONE! ANYBODY HELP! *trips and falls over* damnit...
??1: any last "̷̡͎̖̬͇̬̥̍̀̏̓̈́͌̂͑̈́͆̀̄͒͘͝g̴͉̫͔̩̗̼͓̟̩̫̥̺̭͕̋̒̌̓͋o̷͎̞͓̠͎̭̫̗̹͍̘͔̔̏̈̿́͂̓͘͠o̸̡͙̦̖̯̭̹̪͕͈̘̩̻̔͋̉̔d̴̦̼̩̠͉̘͖͇̦̟͓̲̻́̂̋̾̋̈̓̆̎͛̽̋̄̇͜ͅḇ̴̻̜̱̼͎̱͉̬͖̼͎̬̃̓̈́͐̌̆̂͛̕͜y̶̡̡̛͎̺̹̥̬͍͈͇͔̋̆̆̇̕͜͝ḙ̸̣̥͑͌̈́͗̈́͒̋͝͝s̷̠̙̙͉͇̲̣̺̞̜̿̌͋̀̔ͅ"̵̧̛̥̞̗̗̲͕̏̈́̀́̎̍̒̚?̸̧̛͕̥̗̖̞̱̥̜̦͚͐̊̊̈́͑̽͋̈͑̂͑͗̚͝
Inaaya: *scared* this is the end *looks away*
??: FIRE!
*on the other side starts firing*
Inaaya: *shocked and looks back at the person that picks Inaaya up* hey!
??: my team and i are trying to save u, were not the bad guys they are. *inside the kingdom's barrier forcefield were the "glitch ones" couldn't get in* thank god we saved u from the glitch storms, *takes off mask and revels her face to Inaaya staring down at her and smiles* i'm Saraya welcome to "Trapped online" *revels the kingdom to her*
Inaaya: woahhhhhh! i mean wow. this place is *whistles* cool,
Saraya: come the King wants to speak to the ones irl,
Inaaya: hold up, i need to go home first.
Saraya: unfortunely i can't let you do that.
Inaaya: "who says other wise"?
Saraya: the "King" of course who else? ur parents, just come on, *pulls Inaaya's arm* your kinda young? how old r u?
Inaaya: i just turn 13, 2 or 3 weeks ago.
Saraya: wow, anyway this is were the king will make his anoucements, i forgotten something you didn't tell me where's my manners?
Inaaya: no need, my name is Inaaya.
Saraya: that's a cute name, oh were here. try to be nice...
Inaaya: oki :)
(everyone was talking so loudly until the king out to hail his anoucements)
King ???: Greetings, Greetings. settle down everyone all you know you've been sucked into this world of the internet but i will make sure you all get home sooner but for now were putting you lot into temporary house-holds now i need to lay ground rules in this kingdom it's like irl with u lot but you already know that you can't fight in public, kill someone or anything like that or else...otherwise....BUT the main 2 that you don't interact with the outside or if your glitch we need to isolate you and give this vaccine that will cure your glitch virus, and stay inside the castle were it's safe so you don't well...turn evil....that's all i got to say but if u want to know more about this virus then go find out for yourself. good day, *looks at Inaaya shocked in a distance and tells Saraya something*
Saraya: okay Inaaya i need to take u somewhere,
Inaaya: kay. but wHY!!!- *gets rashly dragged by saraya in a hurry*
Saraya: *shuts the door right behind her* my king, *bows down*
Inaaya: my king? *takes a step back and feels like there's someone right behind them and turns around to see the king* oh hehehe hello....did i do something wrong??? K-King? is it just King or-
King ??: i go by many names young one but you can call me "XY"
Inaaya: so King XY?
King XY: yeah that, so your name's Inaaya? love the name.
Inaaya: Really, i usually hate that name, so idk r u boy or a girl? orrrr non binary like me??
King XY: Non Binary and Bisexual,
Inaaya: SWEET! what's ur pronouns?
King XY: They/Them what about u.
Inaaya: i would like to be called They/Them too but any pronouns is fine. and also Bisexual here as well Crazy or what?
King XY: aww that's cute,
Saraya: aheem....we were getting to the part we're w-
Sorah: I'M HERE OH MY GOD, wait, wait! is this a "canon event"?
Saraya: SHUT THE FUCK UP! HOW MANY TIMES DO HAVE TO SAY TO YOU MULTIPLE TIMES TO NOT SAY THAT TO RANDOM PEOPLE THAT YOU KNOW OR DON'T KNOW OF- *bows down for sorry to the king* i am so sorry my king i won't let Sorah my own stupid brother do that again....
King XY: IT'S FINE SARAYA REALLY IT'S FINE!!! see?
Saraya: i should've never took u to see Spider-man across the spider-verse,
Inaaya: wait you watch it too? who do you like most of all?
Sorah: take a guess-
Saraya: oh hell nawww he's a simp for mi-
Sorah: MIGUEL O'HARA!
Inaaya: i like Miguel i have a lot of favs...
King XY: u know what? i'll just leave the thing i was gonna say today maybe for another time,
Inaaya: oh OKAY!
Sorah: i'm Sorah by the way good looking sor-my guy,
Saraya: no one calls you that...
Sorah: my sister much a bitch bully, or should i sayyyy~ GLITCH BULLY! damn i usually call "Glitch" that.
Inaaya: Glitch?
Saraya: *grunts* SORAH! we talked about this not to say it to the people irl?
King XY: it's just one little kid i should tell them,
Inaaya: tell me what?
King XY: *sharply inhales* glitch was a evil someone from across the other side of the kingdom is great darkness and Glitch is a evil person with a impure glitch heart who was my- ex.....they lied behind my back...they always had the hot's for me and the lustful things we did...but i had to broken up with them,
Inaaya: damn.....that's sad and suprised about it....sorry...
King XY: now, now, young Inaaya it's fine i rather want you not to be that "sorry" in my case you still have a life, i want the children here to go home but since glitch has Trapped you all here i want you to stay in a house-
Sorah: *waves his hand around for picking* OHHH THEY CAN STAY OVER WITH US!
King XY: actually i would rather have Inaaya staying here were it's safe, may i speak to them alone?
Saraya: okay Sorah you heard the king c'mon, *pulls him and shuts the door behind sorah after he got out the room*
King XY: Inaaya i believe Glitch is after you...
Inaaya: me? why? what purpose does Glitch have of me? i don't even know them well. and how does Glitch even know me really greatly or we never knew each other.
King XY: all i can say idk if it's true but...Glitch wants you...
Inaaya: that's kinda sussy and creepy.....
King XY: no, no glitch loves men more then women and for a fact glitch loves me more, i wish he didn't....
Inaaya: kids?
King XY: nope never done it in his life doesn't like interacting with children to scared too probably not bothered either way also.
Inaaya: hmm...kay...will my- WAIT WILL MY ONLINE FRIENDS WILL BE HERE RIGHT GOD I NEED TO GO FIND THEM!
King XY: i think they got captured...or they spawn in the middle of no where like how kinda like u did,
Inaaya: may i help?
King XY: REALLY?- i mean sure at least the Kingdom needs a helping hand and i truly promise u Inaaya we will sort this out together, what do you say?
Inaaya: *silent for 1 sec* "count me down"
King XY: good luck, but u need the much help you can get from...you've met Saraya, Sorah and Derek? wait Derek is on a mission at the moment you'll see him soon though.
Inaaya: right.
(Inaaya POV- this is a new chapter of my story new beginnings new friends mostly new adventures and we will do anything to find and keep everyone safe...from-
.... G̵̛̛̖̙͓̥̟̀̂̾̀́͛̊̒͑́̔̔̾̔̈́̃̈́̓̿̈̇͆̆̇͆̋̄̽̉͐́̈́͒͒͒̐̔̆̈́̉̏̍̉̚̚͜͝Ĺ̶̢̢̞͈͓̟̬͖̤̯̜̖̗̟̝̬̣̞̳̜̖̤̘̣̣̞̐͂̂̄̾̐̀͛̈́̂̓̔͂̚͘ͅĮ̶̡̛̗̠̙͍͔̲̝̳̯͇͚̞̤̅̂̌͂̐̑̇̂͋̔̽́̈́̈́̄̿̈́͑̇̏̌͆̆̕͝͠T̶͕͎͙̹͍̖̞̪̰͍̒͒̀̾̂͆̊̀̽̈͛͒͆͂̎͂́͝ ̴̧̢̧̨̮̜̰̲̱̟̗̺̬̳̭͖̘̮̝̬̭̹̗̥̝̠̃͗̂̇̿́́̋͛̿̉͌͑̿̅̾̄̊̀̃͒̍̏̉͒̀̅͛͌̑͒̾̍͗͒͊̓̃̚̕̕͠͝͝͝͝͝ͅC̷̢̡̢̛̛͇͙̖̼̬͚̜͔̗̠̟͓̪̤͕̩̭̽̒̀̀̌̈́̾̈́̿͆̋͌̿͆̈́̒͗͐̍̓̋̓̒̎̑̽̍̓͐͐̊̏̀̎͋̃̈̂͘̕͜͜͝͝͝H̵̛̝̉̀̏̄̐̈͂̌͒͗͌͗̀̎͛̽͊̃̌̿͐͛͗̔͊͆́̈́̈́̓̅͛̆́́͛͐̊̅͘̕̕̚̚͠͝͝.....)
TBC.....
@g0thfreak666 @emilythenavi-animorpher @godhas-forgotten-me
@wingsofdesire5678 @kiara-cosmotiger
is the story good, (too lazy to put everyone in-_-)
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the artist and the singer
pairing: seth clearwater x gn!reader
summary: in which an artist and a singer fall in love, where notebooks are revealed and kisses are shared.
word count: 691 words
author’s note: my first fic! super super nervous and idk if i like this one anymore but im still sharing it! I HATE DOING SUMMARIES anyways i tried to make it as neutral as possible, so everyone can read it! so so sorry if there are any mistakes. ib and dt to @the-wolf-moon-diaries ! their work is so amazing so go and read it! again this is my first ever time posting my work on here so please be gentle with me <33
it wasn’t a secret that seth was an artist. it wasn’t a surprise, seeing that he was always doodling in class and had numerous paintings and scratch piece of papers that filled every blank space on the walls of his home. sometimes, he would give you a glimpse into his world and show you his current pieces and doodles, and sometimes, he didn’t. not when it came to the red leather sketchbook that he carried with him practically everywhere. he never let you sneak a glance, moving the notebook with a teasing smile before you can lean over. you always wonder what was in that red leather sketchbook of his.
and then you saw it.
inside that red leather sketchbook, the pages were filled with sketches and drawings of you. sketches of your hands, your eyes, your lips fill the empty spaces of his notebook as he daydreams during class. on all of his school handouts and homework, there is at least one drawing of a facial feature that none of the teachers could decipher until they saw him with you. it all made sense when he was next to you, and his eyes were filled with such a soft look that the teachers can only describe as one thing: love.
throughout his sketchbook, there are sketches of you smiling, laughing, napping during class… once you open this journal, you are astonished. he captures you beautifully in a light that you couldn't possibly see yourself in. of course, seth is flushed with embarrassment when you find it, snatching it out of your hands and slamming it shut. but, his embarrassment slowly fading away as you wrap your arms around his neck, smiling uncontrollably, and kiss him with the lips that he’s drawn and dreamt about a million times. “they’re beautiful. can i see more?”
while much a surprise to him, after you found his sketchbook, you reach over to your backpack and pull out a blue hardcover journal filled with songs. songs that were about you. about your life. but, a majority of the songs were about him. about you guys. of course, seth always knew you were a singer-songwriter, but he never could've fathomed that some of the songs you were writing were about him. that any of your songs were about him. and as he read through the songs, whether they were short stanzas or lengthy pieces, he read every single lyric and engraved them into his heart. he felt his heart pour out of his body and into the hands of the angel of a person sitting next to him nervously.
from that moment on, he knew that his heart wasn’t his. he was fully aware that his heart didn’t belong to him anymore. instead, it fell right out of his chest into the hands of the person, if not an angel, sitting right next to him with a nervous furrow of their eyebrows as they watched him carefully. his heart belonged to y/n y/l/n, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.
after much silence and anticipation, your mind was swarming with uneasy and nerve-wracking thoughts. was it too much? does he think it’s weird? am i going to lose the only boy that will ever love me? you were brought back to reality once you saw seth turn and face you. when you looked up, you were instantly struck and overwhelmed by the loving and soft gaze he had in his eyes and that oh-so-handsome grin that adorned his face. you were taken aback when he all but pounced onto you, pressing firm but soft kisses all over your face. you were more surprised by the question that followed. “will you play one for me?”
it was the first time that you ever played a song for him, but after that, it was not the last. you go to him every time you write a new song, whether or not it’s about him, and every time you do, he always looks at you with those starstruck eyes that make you float. he will forever and always be your number-one fan, just like how you are his.
#seth clearwater headcanon#seth clearwater x reader#seth clearwater imagine#seth clearwater#twilight imagine#twilight x reader#twilight#twilight saga#twilight fanfiction#seth clearwater fanfic#seth clearwater x you#twilight wolf pack
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HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!
Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.
Word Count: 6.0k
*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo
Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke
MASTERLIST
Lucifer
At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you
Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths
So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it
100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them
So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands
“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”
“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”
“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”
“Sketchbook?”
Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches
luci.is.confuzzled.exe
He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is
It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty
In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger.
But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece
And then he gets to the page where you drew him
Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second
He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.
It’s perfection
“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.
He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you
But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took
And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn
And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art
Mammon
He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you
And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O
He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages
Adores everything about your art style
And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured
You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.
And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon
Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!
Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation
Is just a bit petty about it afterward
“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”
“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”
“Okay? I will???”
Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick
And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out
Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”
Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook
And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness
Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm
Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time
And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Leviathan
TSL
The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL
Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.
Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life
“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”
Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him
He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster
And so you start
It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together
Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it
“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”
“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”
Cue extra pouty Levi
Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy
When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance
Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall
Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out
When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???
It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you
And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi
Satan
It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will
You always draw, and Satan always reads
And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over
Except for today, that is
“What are you drawing?”
Ah, there it is
The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask
You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book
But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology
And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad
Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together
“Are you drawing me?”
An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone
He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead
But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin
The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill
“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed
“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”
“Nonsense. Show me.”
And so you do
You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him
“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“
“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands
“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”
Asmodeus
Your model for everything
You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill?
Yeah no, Asmo’s your model
You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.
Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.
Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body
Highkey wants to model nude
And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue, doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection
Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it
Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity
Like demons love your art style
It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it
Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude
In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw
100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance
On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago
So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship
Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude
But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you
Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!
Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart
*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude
Beelzebub
a m a z e m e n t
Boi is entranced
Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly
It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better
“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else
He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way
But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room
Boi instantly wants to know the process
When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?
It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much
Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece
And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks
It’s quite relaxing for him, actually
He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do
By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump
Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room
Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something
(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)
Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue
And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)
Belphegor
Man naps
A lot
And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs
So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs
And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time
Then a third
Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern
It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice
And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror
“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork
You hate it
A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean
But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased
“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”
You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened
He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?
A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring
You groan
But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?
You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it
And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange
From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him
And he gets it
For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow
And really, who needs anything else?
Solomon
He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist
The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk
Doesn’t really care at first
Until he sees your work
Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it
“Holy shit”
Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees
You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible
Wizard boy stops you, ofc
“Come with me”
“But I have class soon—"
Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him
Sigh
Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up
It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him
He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes
Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this
From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you
Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied
But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him
Highkey touched
And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up
Sigh
Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit
Simeon
Okay let’s be real
There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).
So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom
Specifically, his room
*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals
He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD
And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program
And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing
So yeah
Simeon knows about your art
In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background
In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook
It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm
And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle
See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands
And so when he gets tired, what does he do?
Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers
So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it
The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation
But uh
Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper
You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information
But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him
Luke
It started with cake
He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department
And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right
So you helped him out
It was nothing major, really
Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better
But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild
Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you”
Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches
Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”
Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)
Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation
Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm
You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas
Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are
Barbatos
Barbatos knew, of course
Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm
And, as such, that included art supplies
So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist
What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it
He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it
At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy
He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow - coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk
But then he just happens to glance inside
And the second he does, he’s mesmerized
There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission
Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened
Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork
“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell
And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—
Oh
A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim
It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course
But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out
The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious:
They are holding hands
Diavolo
RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter
They have been replaced
By you
As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up
The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you
But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free
And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him
And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude
Asmo is jealous
Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that
And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place
He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes
So yeah
There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon
(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)
It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it
In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted
But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it
So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it
#obey me headcanons#gender neutral headcanons#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me barbatos#obey me diavolo#gender neutral reader#gender neutral mc#my favorite to write was#simeon! :D
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Hufflepuff!Muggleborn Extensive Dating A Malfoy Headcanons:
Okay so this got very long very fast but I apologize for nothing.
So you’re pretty much terrified of getting your Hogwarts letter because you have no idea what magic is but now you’re a wizard???
You go anyway and see a blond little boy at Diagon Alley with his parents and his mother has the same list as your dad does
So maybe you follow the little boy around and pick out the things he does because he seems to know what he’s doing
Then you heard his father hiss “disgusting mud blood” your way and your face kinda falls because you thought maybe you found someone who could help and we’ll never mind
Your dad takes your hand and snaps at Lucius “what kind of example is that for your son? No, I’m not one of your lot but you shouldn’t take it out on my daughter!”
Draco peeks out from behind his fathers robes and looks at the tears in your eyes and maybe he does feel a little bad
You absolutely adore your wand
At the station a few older years can tell you’re new and very Muggle in your tshirt jeans and converse that they sort of adopt you one of them being Cedric
You’re not so scared anymore because it seems like maybe these people aren’t so bad
Some kid named Fred buys you a Chocolate Frog and his twin warns you about their sentience
You meet a few other first years and Hermione Granger whos also a muggle and you sort of lament about all of it. She’s super excited because there’s so much to learn and you start to adopt her perspective
You see the boy from Diagon Alley sneering and bullying other kids and you go up to him with the same fire in your eyes that you dad had and tell the boy off a-al-Muggle
He just laughs and scoffs but you don’t back down which scares him because everyone always backs down
Big brother Cedric comes over and tells Malfoy off for calling you a mudblood again and ushered you back to a compartment of other Hufflepuffs and someone explains to you the house system
“Well that’s kinda stupid,” you decide “why should we be separated based on what a magical hat thinks we might be?”
Cedric grins at you because you remind him of himself and stands clapping when you’re sorted into Hufflepuff
Momma Sprout helps you so much because she knows that her muggle born kiddos need the extra comfort and encouragement
You have Herbology with the Slytherins and that meant Draco Malfoy his name was rattling around your head since the Sorting Ceremony
You end up partners with him. You’re shy and quiet and he’s dismissive and snappy.
“Draco you shouldn’t—“ “Don’t tell me what to do! Filthy little mudblood.” You sit back and watch the Doxy bite him “well get help!” He demands “I thought you didn’t want a mudbloodas help,” you snap. He gives you a hopeless look and you administer the antidote and produce a Bandaid “stupid muggle bandage”
While he’s sulking you handle the Doxy properly and show him how it’s done without being snotty about it. Maybe you smirk at him when you catch him leaning in and watching closely
It’s not friendship but he doesn’t call you mudblood anymore so... there’s that
Cedric nearly has a heart attack when he asks about your first day and you tell him about Draco
You find your footing at Hogwarts and though you’re not the best in class you can still do magic and it’s SO FRICKIN COOL MOM I MADE A FEATHER FLOAT TODAY
You chat with Draco thoughout the year in class well you talk to him he doesn’t say much. “And my mom was so proud when I told her about the Goblin wars and my dad wants to see me leviosa a feather but I told him I can’t do magic outside of school...”
Then there’s a quiet “your parents are proud of you? And interested in all this stuff?”
You look at him, mystified and “...yes? They’re proud of whatever I do,” Draco looks down and continues to sketch the bowtruckle which is almost life like on how accurate it is
You write to your parents immediately asking them to send a letter to Draco and tell them all about his really good drawings in Herbology
It takes a few days but one morning Draco comes up to you in the Great Hall with a parcel
“I think this is yours, your stupid owl gave it to me” he sulks. “It has your name on it,” you point out. “But why would your parents...?” You shrug and go back to talking to your friends and reading your own letter from your mother. Draco huffs and mutters something under his breath and walks away
In Herbology he has a new set of very Muggle graphite pencils and a proper sketchbook and he’s just sketching the Mandrakes on the desk when you come in. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you. He’s less irritable now
It’s second year and you hug your parents and go say hi to your friends before finding a compartment for the long journey. You swap muggle candy for magic candy with your friends
Draco passes your compartment and you wave. He gives a half smile and keeps walking.
“You like him!” Your friends exclaim. “What? No! I don’t!” You turn very red. “He’s just a friend!!” No one is convinced
This year you have potions with Draco and you’re freaking out inside because you don’t know what you’re doing and Snape seems to have it out for you and you’re just a mess.
Draco volunteers to be your partner “to show this mudblood a little decorum and how things are properly done.” He scoffs
You look down, embarrassed but as soon as Draco is next to you, you hear a quiet apology.
You understand the charade he has to put on but you wished he didn’t and you really wish he’d stop calling you mudblood it was rather annoying
He helps you through potions like you helped him through Herbology. This year you have Herbology with the Ravenclaws and he has it with the Gryffindors. He totally whines to you all the time about Harry
Once he’s complaining and accidentally puts in the wrong ingredient and the entire thing threatens to explode. Before you know it, you’re on the ground under Draco who pulled you and the remnants of the potion is shielded from you because Dracos robes are draped over you
Snape scolds you for being stupid and you start to protest but Draco confesses that it was him mistake, not yours. Snape just eyes the pair of you and walks off.
“Thank you,” you stammer out. He rolls his eyes but there’s a soft smile on his face.
Boy does Draco flip out when he hears about the Chamber of Secrets because you’re in potential danger and he would willingly sacrifice Granger to keep you safe
He mentions that to you in Potions one day and you gap at him. “Draco killing anyone for any reason isn’t right.” You scold. There’s a cold look in his eyes and a fire in yours. “But... thank you... for worrying about me,”
Your friends still pester you because they can obviously see you like Draco and maybe you do... but you know he doesn’t like you so you’ll just ignore your feelings
Third year comes and your heart skips a beat when you see Draco because he grew a lot over the summer and his hair is no longer ridiculously slicked back and oh Merlin you’re in trouble
Unbeknownst to you Dracos heart flutters when he sees you and has to fight the urge to wave or say hi to you in front of his father.
This year you have History of Magic together
He sits down next to you without a second thought. You smile and say hi and ask about his summer and then he returns the question. Your muggle summer and his magic summer are both a bit lost on the other
“Didn’t you wear glasses?” He asks one day. “Oh, my mom let me get contacts,” “contacts?” “Um... like plasticy little doodads that go in my eyes and help me see?” He just stares and you laugh. “Too Muggle?” You ask. “Too Muggle,” he replies.
Now it’s a sort of game. Youll come in with something Muggle—Pens, notebooks, lined paper, Muggle books, a watch—and Draco decides whether it’s “too Muggle” or not for him. He quite likes pens and lined paper but you can keep your Muggle books
You tell your parents again and Draco gets a package filled with green notebooks and black pens and a pencil pouch with a snake on it.
You hear about the Buckbeak incident and you rush off to find Draco. He’s in the infirmary snapping at Pomfrey but softens when he sees you
“She’s just trying to help,” you scold softly. “Are you alright?” “Doesn’t hurts much anymore but it’s numb so...”
Pomfrey wants to keep him a few hours to make sure that his body is reacting to the medicine correctly and you stay with him.
“You know I’ve been thinking,” you start. “That’s scary,” he mutters. You hit him playfully and notice that he flinches so hard you note it and continue “I’ve been thinking that it really doesn’t make sense for you to call me a mudblood,” “and why not?” He snaps. “Well, I mean... I’m technically all muggle. If anyone was really a mudblood wouldn’t it be halfbloods? With a muggle and wizard parent?”
He doesn’t have an answer to that. So he sulks quietly. “Why doesn’t it bother you that I call you that?” He asks quietly. You shrug. “Sometimes I wonder if I really belong here. Your adamant hatred for me is comforting. Like I’m doing something right enough to make you upset about it.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that either. He didn’t know that you were insecure about being a wizard. Of course, you belonged here you were wonderful with magic and your hexes were remarkable.
“I don’t hate you,” he mumbled. “Sure you’re annoying with your cheery disposition and your... Converse trainers... but I don’t hate you.” You laugh and he thinks it’s a wonderful sound
“Well, I don’t hate you either,” you smile back. You don’t think it’s something but it’s definitely not nothing
You hear about what happens between he and Hermione and you’re furious because he’s better than that and you can’t believe he would still call her a mudblood
You refuse to talk to him for a few days. Which is hard because he tries to make small talk with you.
One day in class he slips you a folded piece of parchment and you open it. Begrudgingly. “Im sorry, I was an arse. I shouldn’t have called her that.” You take your pen and scribble quickly “you’re apologizing to the wrong person.” And slide it back to him
Draco did apologize to Hermione before he apologized to you and he’s frustrated because he thinks you’ll think he’s lying if he said he already did
Then Hermione finds you in the hall that day and asks if you put Draco up to apologizing to her and you admit yes you did. And she tells you that he apologized a few days ago. Your heart soars and you hug a confused Hermione before running off to find Draco
He’s in the corner of the library, not reading, but drawing. You accidentally sneak up behind him and see that you’re the sketch on his paper.
“I don’t think my hair is quite that long,” you whisper softly and the boy about jumps out of his skin. You apologize quickly and he quickly covers his sketch book, red faced.
“I um. That wasn’t you.” He stammers turning a darker shade of red. You laugh. “Yes it was!” You reach for his sketchbook but he hugs it to his chest. “Oh come on Draco? What am I gonna do? Laugh?” “You’re laughing right now.” He points out. “And it’s not that good anyway...”
You roll your eyes and sit next to him. You offer to pose for him so that he could take his time to draw you. “Well I’m not busy now,” you grin and he sulks a moment before nodding.
You watch his hands work and sift through the pencils as he props the paper up on his knees and instructs you to look somewhere and not to move.
It’s odd, being drawn. You close your eyes and hum softly knowing he was studying you the way he might a bowtruckle or mandrake and it feels weird. A good weird.
He refuses to let you see the drawing even though you persist. You pout and drop the matter, just glad to have a friend in him.
You begin meeting in the library on a weekly basis, partly so he can draw you partly because you’re both struggling in History of Magic and need more study time
Cedric is not happy about any of this and goes very “protective big brother” on you. You tell him off and huff.
You start going to his quidditch matches and maybe he almost runs into a goal post because you smiled and waved at him and he forgot to pay attention
The summer comes and you wave goodbye knowing as soon as he’s around your father you’re going to lose your fried.
But he surprises you and hands you his sketchbook on the train home then quickly runs away to his father and you just stare at it and him and he’s gone, all you see is two heads of silver blond hair receding in the distance
Your parents usher you into the car and it’s maybe two hours before you get to look at the sketchbook
When you do open it you see a sketch of a bowtruckle and “Steve” written one his careful script underneath. You had forgotten that you named the bowtruckle Steve that day in class
The next few sketches are from Herbology. And little notes about class that day, a lot of them are about you. Then there’s a break in Herbology drawings and there’s a drawing of his mother almost perfectly. Then of a family portrait of the three of them. A few vases of flowers. Then you see your face. And again. And again. It’s you. Smiling, laughing, concentrating on a book, raising an eyebrow at him, gnawing in your lip, asleep in class, then the library drawings that are much more detailed.
Then you’re crying and you want to call him and thank him but you CANT BECAUSE HE DOESNT HAVE A PHONE STUPID WIZARD FAMILY
But you do have an owl. You have no idea what to write. So you go with “thank you” and then send it.
You get a letter a few months later and it’s from Draco. He’s asking if you want to go to the Quidditch World Cup with him. “I know you’re Muggle and don’t like Quidditch much but...”
So you’re going with Draco and it’s weird because he’s on your doorstep with his mother and it is just a clash of worlds. You stammer goodbyes to your parents and you’re quickly ushered into the limo of a car next to Draco. You notice he’s changed his hair again and he looks quite dashing in his blazer. You get a little self conscious about your jeans and sweater.
Narcissa is a doll. She asks you about your summer and time as Hogwarts and keeps polite conversation and you thaw a little.
Though you have no idea what’s going on Draco is very excited about the game and is cheering and you can’t help but smile and maybe you take pictures with a Polaroid camera and he just rolls his eyes and you get a picture of him rolling his eyes
Fourth year comes and he is ushered away from you by his friends before he can say hi.
The kids from the other schools show up and you’re convinced that he like Fleur and he thinks you like Cedric and it’s just a mess
He’s back to being irritable and you’re slipping into depression not just because of him but everything is really weighing on you
You’re alone in the Astronomy Tower, your feet dangling off the edge. You had no intention to jump, but it was sort of thrilling.
Draco flips the fluff out and nearly drags you from the edge.
“What the hell are you thinking!?” He exclaims. You gape at him because it’s probably the first thing he said to you in a week. He’s just so scared that he was actually going to lose you that he pulls you close and doesn’t let you go. You start crying and everything just comes out in a word dump. Your brother is getting worse and stronger and it’s not good for you and he keeps putting you down and calling you a freak and that “no one is going to love me because I’m a freak and mom and dad think I’m fine because my grades are still fine but Draco I can’t... I’m slipping and... and I feel like I lost you and you were the only one who really believed in me and...” You’re just sobbing.
And he listens. He holds you and listens.
“You haven’t lost me,” He whispers softly. “But you like Fleur... and I can’t ever be her... she’s just so perfect and powerful and...” You sniffle, hugging your knees looking at your beat up Converse.
“She’s my cousin,” He almost laughs but doesn’t because of the look on your face. “And what about you and Cedric?” He raises an eyebrow and you blanch. “He’s like a big brother to me, gross,” You shove his arm and you’re both laughing.
“There’s only one Hufflepuff out there for me,” He takes your hand and hello butterflies and blushing. “And there’s only one Slytherin for me,” You lay your head on his shoulder and watch the stars.
You two start dating and Merlin his friends are livid because how dare he date a muggle hufflepuff? But then they watch him with you and it’s hard to deny that Draco is truly happy for once and they don’t want to take that from him
Your friends exchange bet money.
Weekends filled with more games of “Too Muggle” and trips to Hogsmeade and Draco explaining wizard culture and you try to explain muggle culture but he just does not understand washing machines. You introduce him to muggle music and is thrilled that he loves ABBA.
He makes everything hurt less. And it’s nice to feel wanted.
Then Voldemort returns and everything changes and you weren’t ready for it. Draco gets cold and distant again and you try and try to get through to him but he doesn’t let you in.
You end up screaming at him one night and walk out. He finds you curled up outside the Slytherin portrait, weeping not minutes later and carries you back inside to his dorm and apologizes and hold you and admits that he’s scared and he doesn’t want to lose you or see you get hurt
You both make an effort to find the sunshine in the proverbial dark times that linger through the next year. It means you become a but more calloused and jaded and he becomes a bit more optimistic and grateful.
Pansy Parkinson doesn’t exist. It’s just you with Polyjuice potion to keep you safe from Draco’s aunt and Voldemort. It’s an easy charade to keep up. There are still quite nights when you’re yourself with Draco and he reminds you how much he adores the real you with his words and touch
If there’s one thing you don’t do, is break a Hufflepuff and that’s what Harry did after his sectumsempra and holy hell do you lose your cool.
Draco’s mother has to step in before you’re expelled for what you did to Harry
You nurse Draco back to health afterwards and never let Harry forget what he did, nor do you let anyone else forget it when they call him the chosen one
And Merlin does Draco love you for it
Draco can’t kill Dumbledore because your words are still in his head from second year “It’s not right to kill someone for any reason” and he just can’t disappoint you like that
You’re still kind. You’re kind to Luna when she’s locked up at the Malfoy Manor. You’re kind to the house-elves that attend to you. You’re kind, and value fairness and hardwork, but you will not put up with bullshit any longer.
You and Draco stand with Hogwarts when the battle boils down to it. You give Draco your wand when he loses his to Harry.
When you go back eighth year, you advocate for the removal of the House System and write a very convincing argument against it. It takes about ten years, but the system is disbanded after one too many close calls and ruined lives
You also start a Support Group at Hogwarts for those suffering from mental illnesses and for those who have suffered abuse at home.
You and Draco get married at the Manor. You wear your Converse.
.
Want to read a more in depth Hufflepuff!Reader x Draco? Find it Here!!!
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Unpleasant Pleasantries
Rohan Kishibe x JosukeSister!Reader
Trigger Warning: inappropriate stand use, mild suggestive themes
Rohan thought this to be the perfect opportunity to get back at that imbecile with the hair of a 60’s delinquent, but instead found something more fulfilling than revenge.
It was your first time meeting the famous mangaka, but Koichi insisted that you introduce yourself to the newly found stand user as a formality.
~
“It’s better to make friends than enemies, y/n! So please do this for me.” He begged, clasping his hands tightly together as he bowed.
“Koichi-chan, he ripped out pages from your face and tried to do the same to Okuyasu and Josuke. I don’t know if I trust this guy.” You sighed, nervous and even a little scared.
“It’ll be fine, when you tell him you’re related to Josuke, he won’t even think about trying anything!” Koichi’s eyes glistened, still silently begging you to go.
“Fine, but if I don’t show up back home in an hour, call Josuke please.” Koichi nodded enthusiastically, shouting thank yous while he ran off to find your brother.
~
Thanks to the written address Koichi had given you, it was easy to find the large Victorian mansion that belonged to the isolated artist.
“Come on, y/n. You can do this. Just a quick hello and you’re done.” You tried to psych yourself up, taking one last deep breath before approaching the walkway that led up to the door.
Knock Knock
You waited, your heart rate a bit too quick for your liking.
You could hear the steps on the other side slowly approaching and suddenly stopping, only to find the door creak by.
“Now who would be disrupting the Great Rohan Kishibe?” The man spoke in a sinister tone, swinging the door open.
Rohan Kishibe looked nothing like how you expected him to. He was built slim but still toned, his green hair neatly styled and face slim and sharp with a cute dolphin bandage placed on the bridge of his nose. His green eyes stared at you intently, as if he was trying to analyze your face as well.
“I-I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. My friend Koichi wanted me to introduce myself. I’m Y/N Higashikata. I’m a stand user and I go to school with the rest of the boys.” You stammer out, guilt hitting you for interrupting the presumably busy manga artist.
The man eyed you with a devilish smirk, clapping his hands together like he had discovered something amusing.
“You’re Josuke’s little sister! Oh how fun! You know, you’re too cute to be related to that boy. Now please come in, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.”
“I’m actually the same age as him, and I’d love to join you but I got... study plans with K-Koichi!” You tried to avoid his stare but as he made eye contact, you knew you had lost.
“Nonsense! I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ll be studying with me, now please come in already.” His smile grew while he pulled you into his abode by your wrists.
The house was lightly decorated with manga related memorabilia on the wood carved shelves and many original panels from famous mangas hung framed on the soft toned walls, but the home still held a grand Victorian feeling to it.
Your original unease disappeared as you took in the grandeur of the mansion and the interesting items that adorned it so carefully. Rohan smirked at the curiosity in your eyes and the quick movements they made while you focused on specific areas of his home.
“Would you like a personal tour of the property before we study? I will warn you though, not all the rooms have been styled by yours truly yet. It’s a work in progress at the moment.” The smile he bared had you suspicious again, but you didn’t want to be rude to the owner of such a magnificent estate.
“As much as I would love to, your home is absolutely stunning, I sadly only have an hour to study. My mom would kill me if I got home late again.” A hefty sigh escaped your lips and you gave him your best upset expression you could muster.
You hoped he wouldn’t key in on your lying, remembering the warning Koichi had given you about his ability to discern genuine emotions from fake ones.
The mangaka squinted his eyes for a moment, causing your heartbeat to speed up substantially, but his face returned to its usual smile that you swore held a bit of deviousness underneath.
“Oh! it’s alright, dear. I understand. I’ll save it for your next visit. Let’s get to your work now, follow me to the kitchen. I’ll prepare us something and you can take a seat by the window.” He gently took your hand, guiding you to the kitchen and carefully pulling out a seat for you at his dining room table.
A beautiful bouquet set in a hand sculpted vase caught your interest on the table as Rohan busied himself with brewing a fresh pot of tea. The flowers were bright in color compared to the muted ones of the vase, but the contrast made both appear unique and appealing to the eye.
“I see you even appreciate the smaller details of a home. Though I am a mangaka, I do dabble in other forms of artistic expression. Take pottery for example, I glazed this vase in a muted color pallet so it could stand out on its own when beautifully bright flowers were placed in it. The two compliment each other nicely, don’t they?” He set down two tea cups and began to pour.
“Yes! And I especially love the bright purples in the lillies you picked here.” You gently touched a petal, Rohan now lightly tapping his cheek, pulling out a chair for himself to sit right beside you.
His closeness and unwavering gaze brought a heaviness to your chest, making you stumble over your words.
“Um-m thank you for treating me so well and letting me study in your home, Rohan-sensei.” You began to unpack your notes and textbook, Rohan scooting closer to analyze what you had written.
“No need to thank me, my dear. Now let’s get to your studies. What is it you need to work on today?” The smile he shares with you is comforting, but you can’t help but feel like he was plotting something.
You set your pencil bag down and prepare your notebook, trying to make yourself busy by setting up.
“Biology. I’ve only just recently started going to school in person, but I tested well enough to be placed in the highest class. Today we’re supposed to label all the organs in this frog drawing.” Your tone comes off as annoyed and Rohan picks up on it, tilting his head to the side while he reads your frog diagram.
“You aren’t a fan of biology? I’ve got a few anatomy sketches of animals you could use instead of this photocopied worksheet. Maybe that will help peak your interest?” He stands and saunters out to find his sketches, leaving you alone in the kitchen.
When Rohan returns, the two of you work on your Biology homework for about an hour, finishing the entire pot of tea in the process. You found out that Rohan was quite skilled at anatomy, having an entire sketchbook dedicated to the anatomy of many living things, including the likes of frogs and flowers. He was extremely helpful and fun to talk with.
As you packed up your bag, Rohan remained seated in his chair, playing with one of the lilies from the bouquet. You weren’t sure if you should head towards the door and leave Rohan or wait for him to stand and lead you out. You were about to speak when the mangaka interrupted with a swish of his pen in your direction.
“Heaven’s Door.”
You felt a sharp shove of air to your midsection, sending you onto the floor. Every movement you attempted was futile as the grinning artist looked down at you. A deep chuckle haunted you while he leaned in closer to your face. His hands gently caressed your cheek, opening it up like a book.
“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re interesting and I’d love to learn more about you, but I’m impatient. It’ll be far easier for me to just read you. Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll make sure you don’t remember this.” He flipped through your pages, ignoring the tears that ran down onto the very paper he was trying to read.
“Now let’s just read the juicy bits today. You were hospitalized along with your brother when you were only four, a strange parasite made up of Dio’s cells attacked your immune system at age twelve and had you bedridden until fairly recently.” The curiosity he held for your story excited him, the pen he held in one hand quickly wrote onto the notepad he placed on the floor beside your head.
You felt like sinking into yourself, ignoring his quips and teases as the embarrassment of the mangaka reading your thoughts and feelings enveloped you. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be this way? He was so kind before and just like a flick of a switch, he changed.
“Oh, now how did you escape that? Here we are, thanks to Mr.Joestar’s Hamon lessons, you not only came back from your illness, but gained a proper stand and the ability to wield Hamon just like your father and great grandfather! Wait, what’s this new paragraph about?” He squinted closely, reading your page out loud again.
“I have to visit Rohan Kishibe today because Koichi told me to. He practically begged. Even though I’m scared, Koichi gave me his word that nothing bad would happen. Rohan Kishibe looks very different from what I imagined a mangaka to look. Well, what did you expect me to look like?” His smirk grows as he continues on.
“Ah, another new bit is here! Rohan Kishibe is very good at anatomy, he’s been kind and helpful, I’d like to get to know him better. I think Josuke was just overreacting when he called Rohan Kishibe pure evil. I could see us being friends.”
His smile disappears skimming the next sentence, his usual tone of voice changed as he starts to read. He sounded upset, hurt even.
You were the one being wronged here! Why would he get upset? He doesn’t have the right.
“Josuke was right. Rohan Kishibe is not nice, he is terribly mean. He’s using me for his entertainment. He doesn’t care. Rohan Kishibe is not kind, he is not helpful, he is cruel, I don’t want to get to know him. I want to forget him.”
“I hate Rohan Kishibe. I hope to never see him again.”
Rohan paused, looking away from your pages, trying to focus on anything else for the moment.
“W-well, I’ll just fix this last paragraph and erase it from your mind. You’re being dramatic, I’m not as terrible as you describe me.” Chuckling to himself, he tries to laugh off his obvious pain and attempts to regain his composure.
“No! I won’t let you erase my emotions!” You shouted, a wave of Hamon spreading through his arm as his pen touched your page, his attempt to rewrite your memory foiled.
The mangaka was sent flying back, his right arm dropping the pen and your face finally shutting closed, returning your ability to move. Although you were upset at the betrayal of trust you gave the man, you felt a twinge of guilt in your heart when you spotted his still form draped across the wood floor, cradling the arm you had burned with your Hamon.
Running to his side, all thoughts of malice left your body while you attempted to get a better look at his injury. His arm was still intact thankfully, but it was badly burned and needed to be set correctly and quickly if he ever wanted it to heal properly. You took a deep breath and turned Rohan over to see if he was still conscious.
“Oh god, Rohan I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your eyes fill with tears again as you see the artist weakly rest himself against the wall, still holding his arm close to his chest.
“No, no it’s alright. I brought this on myself. I accept that.” He grimaced, trying to take a peek at his injuries but too frightened to actually check.
“You read my thoughts and history, it wasn’t right but you didn’t physically hurt me. I don’t know how that happened, but I promise you I’ll fix it.” You swore to the manga writer, now searching through your backpack.
When you found your pair of scissors, you went into full first aid mode, removing the sleeve from his right arm by carefully cutting the loose cloth off. After tossing the short sleeve to the side, you cut the bottom of the skirt you were wearing off into a long bandage-like shape of clothing and ran it under the cold tap water from the kitchen sink, returning to the injured Rohan.
“I’m going to wrap your arm with this, it won’t be painful if you let me use my stand, but I’m going to ask you first before I use her on you.” The man nodded, accepting your offer to erase the pain.
“Under Pressure. She’s a stand that has the ability to manipulate emotions. She can change them within a radius or focus on only one individual. When she focuses on a single person, she is only able to change their emotion to the opposite of what is being felt.” You began to wrap his arm, nervous about what he might feel when you placed the wet fabric loosely around it.
All Rohan could do was bite back his lip to avoid making any embarrassing sounds. Instead of the immeasurable pain he imagined to come with dressing a freshly burned wound, he felt a wave of euphoria. He now understood what you meant by the “opposite” emotion would be felt.
The artist never knew wrapping his burned arm would feel so good, every touch caused his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to water. It confused him, even though he understood that the opposite of pain was pleasure, it still startled him every time you did one more pass of the homemade bandage.
He tried his hardest not to be flustered, but when you finished off his arm by tieing the last bit with a knot, he let a small whimper escape his lips. His hand shot up to cover his face, it’s hue now a bright crimson.
Your cheeks turned bright pink as well. You turned away swiftly, to avoid eye contact.
“U-Um just stay put. I’m gonna borrow your phone for a second and let you catch your breath.” Scratching the side of your cheek, you stand up and make a b-line for the phone, dialing your home and hoping that Josuke would pick up. You glanced at the clock set on the wall, it read 8:15.
I’m late.
As soon as the phone line rang once, you spotted the front door to Rohan’s manor fly across the main hall. Peeking your head out from the kitchen, you see a furious Josuke with Koichi in pursuit.
“ROHAN-SENSEI! WHERE IS MY SISTER YOU CREEP?! SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME 15 MINUTES AGO!” He yells out, his voice echoing throughout the home.
“Josuke! I’m here! I was just about to call you. Listen, I messed up bad and hurt Rohan. He’s in the kitchen bandaged up but I need you to heal him all the way.” You run to Josuke, giving him a tight hug while trying not to cry from the stress of the situation.
Josuke squeezes you once and let’s you go, looking you over from head to toe so he could make sure you weren’t injured as well. When he spots your torn skirt, his aura radiates a dark malice you’d never seen him show before.
“Wait Josuke! I did this to myself, we didn’t have bandages so I cut some cloth.”
He looks you over again and sighs heavily, the purple hue that was full of rage, leaving him.
“Ok, fine. Where’s that jerk? I’ll fix him up real quick so we can go home.” He grumbled, following you into the kitchen.
Even though Rohan wanted to refuse any treatment from Josuke, he finally accepted the help when you threatened to cry on the spot. His arm had returned to its previous state, unburned and fully functional, thanks to Josuke and Shining Diamond.
Josuke picked up your backpack and held the now fixed front door open for you, while Rohan stood and waved goodbye. You awkwardly returned the wave and made your way back home, your thoughts chaotic and confused.
On the one hand you felt guilty for putting Rohan through such an immense amount of pain, but you were also upset at the humiliation he put you through by reading your life with Heaven’s Door. These thoughts plagued your mind as you laid your head to rest for the night.
~
It was roughly two in the afternoon when Rohan Kishibe knocked on your front door. A short but older woman answered, complaining about the loudness of the knocks when she looked over the artist.
“Oh, my apologies. You’re that Rohan Kishibe my kids talk about. How may I help you, Mr. Kishibe?” She asked with a warm tone to her voice, leaning against her door frame and smiling up at him.
“Is y/n in? I’d like to deliver this to her personally.” He spoke softly, shaking the box he held in his hands.
Your mother couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. He appeared to be anxious and uncomfortable, most likely it was his first time gifting something like this.
“She’s not home yet, but give her five minutes. Why don’t you come in? You can wait for her up in her room, just don’t go raiding her drawers or anything.” She joked, Rohan’s cheeks turning vivid scarlet.
“I’m only pulling your leg, sweety. I know you’re better than that. Now come on! Have a seat at her desk and I’ll bring you up some lemonade.” Rohan followed her inside.
When they reached your room, Mrs.Higashikata opened the door and waved her hand to your desk seat.
“Pull up that chair there and I’ll be back with some refreshments.” Her smile gleamed at him. She walked off to the kitchen, leaving the artist alone in your room.
Rohan browsed around your room, taking in the personality that was apparent by the many bits of decor that gave your little private space a peculiar style. Your walls held photos printed on Polaroid film, sketches presumably drawn by you, and posters of your favorite video games and shows.
When he glanced around your room, he was immediately caught off guard when he spotted two volumes of his very own manga, propped up and on display in your bookcase. To say he was flattered was an understatement, he was completely floored. You were a fan of his?
His heart was heavy all of a sudden, he felt a dreadful pain in his chest while he held the book in his hands. He turned his head toward the doorway when he heard your voice greet your mother. To regain himself, he quickly skimmed through the pages of the manga he was holding, hearing your distant conversation come to an end.
You entered the room. Dropping your bag at the corner of the closet, your eyes never leaving Rohan while you take a seat on your bed. The mangaka gently placed your copy of Pink Dark Boy back in its original position, turning around now to face you.
“I’d like to humbly apologize for my abhorrent behavior and actions yesterday. I was terrible. I know it might be asking too much of you, but I brought you this as a peace offering. I want us to start over. I’d like to get to know you the right way.” He passes you the box he was carrying with him, nudging you to open it.
Casually unknotting the bow and removing the lid from the bottom, you slowly lift what appears to be a white sundress out of the box. It was beautifully made and looked to be just your size.
“I know it’s not the skirt you tore, but I felt like you deserved something a little more unique.” He averts your gaze quickly when you attempt to gauge his reaction.
The mangaka appears to be flustered, apparently not very used to apologizing. His eyes held a fear of rejection but also a glimmer of hope. A breath you never knew you were holding was released with a quiet hum.
“It’s beautiful, thank you, but do know that buying me things isn’t going to repair my trust in you. We can at the very least start over though.”
Rohan smiled to himself, thankful for your empathetic nature, and nodded a quick yes.
“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, how about we take that dress and enjoy some tea at the cafe? My treat.”
#rohan kishibe x reader#kishibe rohan x reader#rohan kishibe#kishibe rohan#jjba reader insert#jjba part 4#jjba x reader#jjba
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Picnic in the Park
Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader
Word Count: 2128
Fluff
Request Summary: “Axl rose meets a girl threw slash who is his childhood friend whos also an amazing painter and just is infatuated with how pretty she is and he just follows her around like a puppy.Tan skin brown hair that goes to lower back brown eyes, wears alot of cute sun dresses and is very kind”
A/N: I am catching up on requests. So if you have requested anything in the past week or so thag oiece should be coming out soon. Thanks everyone for reading
Tag list: @ayablackwood @agroupiewhore @thenobodies-inc @littlemisscare-all
Your mind was a mixture of light and dark, complimentary colors, and images burned into your mind that you wanted to paint later. If there wasn’t a brush in your hand you were taking notes with a pencil, sketching the world around it through eyes that only you saw it from. You captured everyday life like the older woman with the mesh bag she had filled with fruit or the man with his red beard, a few weeks unkept, napping in the alley to get a break from the heat. You took these people, characters of the world and had them live forever on the canvas you painted on.
Art was your passion. You loved walking around Hollywood with a set of watercolors or a notebook to sketch in and take in the lives of others. There was some sort of poetic feeling of taking a stranger from the street and importilizing them as a character in your art. You created a narrative for them that they may not be living. It was cathartic and you’d spend hours of your day people watching until you finally found the right subject.
Sketching out a bump on someone's nose that might have come from a childhood accident or from their Freshman year of college when they drunkenly fell down the front steps of the dorm, you created their unknown life story as you placed each line of their face into place. If you didn’t infuse their story into the piece it was just some colorful person without any meaning. But you wanted to give the viewer of your art a full piece. They should be able to look at your picture and understand the life that the subject lived; your art created that life.
It was crazy to think that a few years before you were in school thinking about becoming an English teacher.It was a chance meeting at a grocery store when you ran into your old friend Saul’s mother. When you had been kids the pair of you had been so close and secretly your mothers had both had fingers crossed for a wedding that never happened. The pair of you split apart the summer after senior year to set out of a life you each wanted. His mother had invited you over for dinner, which she also invited her son to, thrusting the pair of you back into each other's lives.
Oddly enough, it was like time hadn’t passed between you. The easiness of your friendship coming back without even trying and soon the pair of you were hanging out on almost a daily basis. With your schedule up helped manage his house, buying groceries, doing some cleaning, and running a few errands he never remembered. In return you had a few rooms to yourself. Slash had wanted to make sure you had time for your art as well as a space for it.
Dressing in a white floral pattern sundress you grabbed your bag that contained your art supplies. You wanted to get to the park early and set up a blanket you could spend the day sketching and painting on. You planned to soak up the sun in your skin and use the good lighting to get some new work to sell for the craft fair this weekend. As you turned to grab the picnic foods you had made the night before you saw Axl sitting at the counter. His green eyes looked up, smiling when he saw you.
“Hey, Y/N. Slash just left. I’m going to leave in a minute. I was just finishing up some lyrics.” he was always over and you thought that he was lonely in his role as lead singer. Even though Axl put on this tough guy imagine and had a reputation it was like he needed to work for that because he thought that was what rock stars were supposed to do. Whenever he was around you he seemed lost, always making extra conversation or taking the time to go walk to the coffee cafe with you and wait in line, even if he didn't want anything.
“I’m heading out for a day in the park.” you told him, moving the wax paper covered sandwiches into a small wicker basket, along with some fruit and cheese, some water, and a bottle of wine. You could feel his eyes on you, “I’m over packing and have more than enough if you want to come with me?” you let your eyes flutter up from packing the basket to look at him. “I’ll leave you alone to write because I’m just going to spend the time working on some new portraits.” It was important to you that you set up expectations. There was no need for him to feel like he was going there to entertain you or vice versa.
“I’d love to go. You don’t mind?” he asked as you finished packing up the wicker basket. You shook your head no, letting him pick up the food you had just packaged and leading you outside, “What park did you want to go to? I can drive us there.” you told him what you were thinking, getting comfortable in the convertible.
When you had moved in with Slash you had forged fast friendships with his bandmates. Even though you weren’t at every show and didn't always go backstage you had gotten close to them in different ways. On Wednesday nights you hosted a dinner party where you made them all come by so you had an excuse to cook for them. When someone had a ripped piece of clothing at a show you’d quietly take out your sewing kit, stitching patches in jeans and repairing favorite band shirts. You liked being around them all because of how animated everyone was; they were so easy to draw. You had a whole sketchbook of black and white images from the band. Your favorite subjects were Slash and Axl, mainly because they were the two you were around the most and had the most flexibility when it came to moods.
Axl had grown close to you, drawn into the caring nature you had. It was hard for him to understand that someone would do things for him without expecting anything in return. The first time that you had been out drinking with them and insisted Axl came home with you so you knew he was safe he had thought was a come on. When you helped him drink water and gave him aspirin before tucking him into bed he was shocked. Even more shocking was waking up to find his clothes washed and folded on the guest room chair and you carrying in a breakfast tray of freshly made foods. That’s just how you showed you cared about your friends. Being the mother of the group and taking care of them helped you feel like you were contributing as a friend.
Spreading out the blanket under the Weeping Willow tree. You motioned for Axl to sit as you toed off your sandals and moved to sit down. Digging through your bag you set out your sketch pad and pencils. You could see Axl out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t seem to know what to do. You pulled him down to the blanket, settling him so he could rest his back against the tree. You pulled off his shoes and socks and handed him his notebook as you went about unpacking your picnic so he could pick at food if he wanted to.
With him settled in the shade you laid down, belly first in the sun. Picking up your pencil you scanned the park until you found an older man feeding the pigeons. Your eyes followed his movements for a few minutes before you started your sketch. The feeling of the warm sun on the back of your thighs as you twirled the pencil in your hand, capturing all the features of the man.
As you drew you could feel Axl’s eyes on you. At first it was just light glances every few minutes and then it turned to heavy long looks where his eyes were watching you. Ignoring the way his stares made you blush, chalking up the pinkness in your cheeks as just sun exposure.
A hand slid over your calf, over the back of your thighs before going over your dress and laying on the flat of your back. You turned your face upward looking at Axl watching you. His eyes flickering from your art up to your face. There was a pause, curiosity and interest in what he was going to do next. Your heart is beating in your chest even though your body is frozen, wondering what he was up to.
“Do you want to take a break and eat? You’ve been working for a couple hours.” Looking past him you saw the sun had changed position in the sky and time had gotten away from you. Sitting up you handed out sandwiches, positioning yourself comfortably besides him in the shade of the tree.
Axl had been following you for most of the spring and now into summer. He's around all the time and often comes along for days like this. But you liked having him around. You thought that he needed the quiet comfortable silence between the pair of you; so much of his life was filled with noise.
“Y/N, do you like this?” He asked, peeling off the crust to his sandwich. The action seemed to be more of a need to keep his hands busy instead of a dislike for the bed.
“Do I like this? Picnics in the park?” You didn’t know exactly what he meant. Axl sometimes seemed to talk in riddles not wanting to fully play all of his cards.
“Being with me.” He didn’t look up to meet your eyes at this, almost embarrassed to be talking about it. You weren’t like Axl. There was no need to talk in riddles or have him guessing how you felt.
“Of course I like having you around, Axl. It’s nice to be able to spend time with someone I like.” He looked up, almost surprised that someone would like to be around him. “I’ve had a crush on you for a few months and it’s nice to get to know you more and find more reasons to like you.” You didn’t feel nervous telling him this. It actually felt like a relief to get it off your chest.
He put down his sandwich, wiping crumbs off on his shirt and looking at his hands to make sure that they were clean. Before you could figure out what he was going to do he had a hand in your hair, tugging you closer to him in a soft kiss. For months you had been thinking about what it would be like to kiss him on one of your lazy afternoons together and now it was happening.
Instead of letting him pull away and think about what he had just done you slid onto his lap, letting your hands wrap around him. His free hand was on your back holding you close as the pair of you made out like teenagers under the shade of the willow tree.
Finally, the pair of you pulled away, swollen plush lips and wild curious eyes watching each other. This new change between the pair of you sparkling like wonder between the pair of you. Axl was playing with a piece of your hair, wrapping the brown lock around his finger like he had been wanting to do for months.
“Does this mean we can finally start dating?” You asked, watching the way he smirked at this question. “Because I don’t know how many more times you can just casually show up without Slash catching on. And I don’t know how many more picnics I can plan without touching you.” You admitted, his lips were on your chin and up your jaw.
“Mhhh, I’ve been waiting for this for so long and now I can have you all to myself.” His voice whispered huskily to you kissing your earlobe. He pulled away to look at you again. “You have to tell Slash.” He said, making you laugh as you rolled your eyes. If that’s what it would take to have Axl you didn’t mind telling your best friend about the relationship.
“You take care of me and I’ll take care of everything else, babe.” You promised, meaning it. This was everything that you had wanted for months and now you were getting it. The man that you had started falling for was yours. It had only taken months worth of picnics to get him.
#Axl gnr#axl rose#axl rose fanfiction#axl rose x ofc#axl rose fan fic#axl rose head canon#axl rose x reader#axl rose gnr#axl rose one shot#axl rose fanfic#axl rose imagine#Axl rose Guns N’ Roses#Axl roses headcanon#Axl oneshot#fluff#fluff writing#request#Axl rose x you
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One Day p1
Alive!Luke x Fem!Reader
Modern AU
Word Count: 2.6k
A/n: hehehe here’s the first part! I have it mostly planned out, there should be 3-4 parts! Lmk what you think!
Summary: A shy girl is used to floating under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, all was well until an opportunity fell into her lap, but what will these new people bring with them?
You were really good at staying right under everyone's radar at Los Feliz. You knew everyone, everyone knew you, but you didn’t have anything more than just a surface relationship with your classmates. You didn’t mind that, it was harder to get hurt this way.
You got accepted to the Performing Arts High School with your ability to dance, but have always found your real talent lies within your visual art. Whether you were using paints, pencils, or a pen, you loved the way that your hand flew over the paper and created an image that represented your many different emotions.
In a way it made sense how you loved both dance and drawing, both sharing the flowing of movements to express things that words cannot. It was easier for you to express your emotions and thoughts in these mediums since social connection was hard for you. You had tried it once, really connecting with a person, but it ended up coming back and hurting you, causing you to shut down, so you weren't in a rush to try again any time soon.
You floated down the hallways with ease, only having to stop at your locker to grab the remaining textbooks you need for the next few classes. While you were stopped you heard your name called from across the hallway, looking up to see Julie raising her hand in a small wave.
“Hey, (y/n)! I like your top!” She came to a stop by your locker smiling.
“Thanks! It was my moms, she just found this box of old clothes from when she was in school, this one just really stuck out to me.” You smiled down at yourself and looked back up at the girl to see three boys approaching.
You felt heat subtly rise to your cheeks and you tried to focus your eyes on Julie.
“Hey Jules, you ready to go to class?” Luke spoke as soon as they reached her side, sending you a nod of acknowledgement when he noticed you standing in front of them.
Alex and Reggie both raised their hands with small waves in greeting to you.
You smiled in return and turned back to close your locker, swinging your backpack on in the process.
“Well, I gotta get to class too, see ya around.” You smiled back at the group and heard Julie call after you.
“See you in Art!” You turned slightly and waved in return.
Julie and you were pretty decent friends, you talked to her more than anyone else at the school, she had a good balance of how to get to know you without pushing you.
You had met the boys a few times in passing, much like the previous occurrence, them not really speaking much more than a ‘hello’ here and there.
There was something about Luke though, he never failed to send a storm of butterflies loose in your stomach. He probably didn’t even remember your name, but you could remember all the details of his face, not in a weird way, just in an artistic way, ya know?
He had such a coolness about him, like he could totally embarrass himself but brush it off like it was nothing, like he meant to do it even.
You thought you were getting better with your anxiety around people, but as soon as that boy was in front of you, it seemed as if your brain forgot how to function.
You shook the boy from your thoughts as you continued through your day, classes went by like they typically do, all your general classes like math and english were in the first half of the day, the second half being taken by your dance class and then art. It was simple to say that you much preferred the second half of classes.
In dance you went about as normal, running through a few routines and while wrapping up your teacher mentioned something about a new project that would be announced tomorrow.
After changing you made your way to your final class where Julie had already arrived and claimed a table for the two of you.
“Hi!” she smiled up at you.
“Hi! How were your classes today?” You replied, starting a conversation that you hoped would carry throughout the class.
You really did like talking with Julie, she was so sweet and really made you feel like she wanted to get to know you.
The first day of class she noticed you were sitting alone and she took this as an opportunity to introduce herself, commenting on the particular band tee you had on, being able to strike up a conversation instantly. You admired her for this, the confidence she had when walking in a room was just astounding to you.
The two of you went about the class in a way that you similarly would, talking about this and that while sketching away in your respective books, her only pausing to write ideas in her song notebook when an idea would hit.
The class you were in didn’t have many actual assignments, just that you needed around 3 small pieces turned in periodically and one larger one for your final at the end of the semester, it made it an easy free flowing environment where there wasn’t too much pressure to stress on any one thing.
Before you knew it the ding of the bell was going off overhead and you and Julie started packing up your things, she quickened her pace when she saw the boys waiting at the door for her.
“You guys have practice today?” You giggled at her rushed movements.
“Yeah,” she laughed as she zipped her bag closed, “Luke and I just finished up a new song too so I’m really excited to get back to the garage to figure out the music behind it.” She smiled up at you and you returned the affection.
“Well don’t let me hold you up! Hope it all goes well! See you tomorrow!” You waved to the girl as she ran to the door, only pausing to throw a wave back at you.
You laughed and shook your head at the girls' antics and went about your day as usual, starting your walk back home, you didn’t live too far and enjoyed the fresh air and time to recollect after the school day.
After getting home you grabbed a quick snack and retreated to your room to finish a sketch that you had been working on in class today.
Digging through your bag your heart rate increased when you pulled the red covered book to see the top covered in multiple stickers, this wasn’t your book, it was Julies song book, meaning she was currently in possession of your sketchbook. She must have grabbed yours on mistake when she was packing up quickly.
You lightly sighed as you pulled out your phone to text her about the accidental switch-up.
She replied instantly just realizing the mistake herself, then invited you over to switch them back and possibly hear some of the songs they were working on, looking for an outsider's opinion.
You hesitated in saying yes, did you really need your book back that bad?
Sighing, you sent back an okay and asked for an address, as nervous as you were to hang around the guys, more specifically Luke, you remembered how excited Julie was to go over the new song, the one that was probably sitting in the book you were holding in your hands.
You threw on a light jacket and grabbed your backpack, for reasons unexplainable to you it just always just felt safer to walk around with a backpack on, and you were on your way to Julies.
You could feel your nerves rising with each step you took towards her house, by the time you stood at the end of her driveway you felt like your heart was in your throat.
“Calm down, (y/n), it’s just a little hangout to get your book back and hear a few songs, no biggie, nothing to fret about at all.” you whispered to yourself, taking one last deep breath before continuing your walk up her driveway.
You had just come into view from the garage when you heard Julie calling out your name.
“(Y/n)! How was your walk?” Julie ran out to meet you, now walking beside you into the garage.
“It was good! You actually live closer to me than I thought, it was only like a 15 minute walk,” you smiled at her and you continued the small talk until you looked up and met eyes with the brunette guitarist.
“(Y/n), these are the guys, Alex, Reggie and Luke,” she introduced them to you and you raised your hand in a wave.
“Yeah, i’ve seen you guys perform before, you’re all really good!” you smiled and met each of their gazes.
“Thanks! And that was all our old stuff, just wait until you hear what we have coming, um..” Luke stuttered realizing he didn’t know your name.
You went to say it but Alex beat you to it.
“(Y/n) you idiot,” he hit the back of Luke's head, while rolling his eyes.
A blush rose to Luke’s face and he laughed it off.
“I-I knew that, I-I just-”
“You’re at the school for dance right?” Alex spoke again, interrupting and trying to take the attention off of the stuttering Luke.
You smiled and nodded.
“Yeah! I’m on a dance scholarship, so that's my main focus but my second is visual art, which reminds me,” You take your backpack off and pull out Julies song book, “here’s this!”
She smiles and takes it from you.
“Ugh thanks so much, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost this, Reggie can you grab her sketchbook? It’s on the piano!” Julie opened her book and smiled looking at the page.
“Oh wow,” you heard Reggie mutter causing everyone to turn to him, “(y/n) this stuff is like, really good.” You blushed and looked down at your feet, you’ve never been good at accepting compliments.
“Dude, boundaries!” Julie muttered reaching for the book, but Luke got to it first, taking his own turn looking through the pages.
Your heart jumped when he started smiling at the pages he was flipping through, you didn’t have anything in there that you kept hidden, it was just that no one had ever gone through your work before.
“You have so many different styles, this one is like a cartoon, but then the next one is like hyper realistic.” Luke looks up to make eye contact and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks.
Alex took the second of him being distracted to pull the book away from him and hand it back to you.
“I’m sorry for them, they still haven’t figured out what it means to respect someone's privacy.” He narrowed his eyes at his two bandmates.
“You know,” you opened the book in your hands to search for a particular page, “I actually have something of each of you individually. I sketched them out the night after I saw one of your guys’ gigs.”
You scrunch your face in concentration, you feel everyone rush to stand behind you when you finally find it.
You look around at them to take in their reactions, their eyes were all glued to the papers you were displaying in front of you, Reggies mouth falling open.
“Oh! Is this why you asked for the pictures my dad took of that night?” Julie looked up at you.
“Yeah, I wanted to be able to add the details of everyone's chosen instruments and get some added information on where the highlights were from the lights,” you looked at each of their faces again and made a rash decision to gently tear the pages from your book, handing them to each respective person.
Each person held them gently in their hands, then looked up to you in amazement.
You just shrugged your shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say.
“Well,” you looked out the window and saw the setting sun, “I better start my walk back to my house, it’s getting dark and I wanna get back before that happens. Enjoy the pictures guys!” You smile and turn to walk away, all the band still shocked to silence.
“She’s never torn a page from her book before,” you hear Julie tell the boys as you walk further down the driveway, smiling to yourself.
It was true, you never pull pages from your sketchbook, not this one at least, it was the better quality of all the other ones you had. You typically just used the less expensive books for class, you go through all the pages so quickly you didn’t want to waste the one’s in your higher quality notebook for the rough sketches, but the pages that you drew the band on were in the higher quality notebook, you had taken the time to really get them right, and they turned out fantastic.
Your mother had always told you to spread joy where you can, and after seeing all their faces you knew that it was only right to let them have the pages that they were looking at.
You arrived home and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, there might be something there with them, an opportunity to make new friends, to open up.
This idea makes you both nervous and excited, you let these thoughts and ideas later lull you to sleep.
---
The next day at school you were walking to your locker when Julie caught your eye, she was waiting in her phone by your locker door. You would usually see her in passing in the mornings, but this is new.
“Hey Julie, what’s up?” You greet the curly haired girl at your locker.
“Hey (y/n)! Not much really, just watched to catch you this morning and run an idea past you…” She smiles and looks around her before returning her gaze back to you.
“Okay? Is everything alright? You seem nervous,” you giggled at her antics and went back to putting the combination into your locker.
“Yeah, yeah, I just know you take a while to open up and get close with new people, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything you aren’t ready for, but the boys and I were wondering if-” She gets cut off by a yell from down the hallway.
“JULIE! HAVE YOU ASKED HER YET?” You turn to see all three boys running towards you, Julie facepalming at Reggies yell.
“Geez Reg, she literally just got here. There's no need to yell,” Julie rolls her eyes at them and looks back to you.
“Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to make more designs and stuff for the band, like for posters and maybe album art one day.” She smiles at you after finishing.
“You-you want me to… really?” Your eyes widen in shock.
“Yeah! We all really like what you did with those portraits, and you’re pretty chill letting us keep them and all, we want you to be a part of our band, even if it isn’t you on stage with us, you’ll keep things looking cool.” Luke says as he leans against the lockers beside you.
“Plus, then you’ll be able to hang out with us more!” Reggie pipes in.
They all look at each other then back at you.
“So,” Alex smiles at you, “What do ya think?”
A million thoughts fly through your mind at once, they really want you to hang out with them more? They liked what you did?
You looked at them all, looking back at you, and smiled.
“I’d love to.”
tag list ✨
@gia-kerks @fangirlangioma
#jatp#jatp imagine#jatp luke#jatp luke x reader#luke patterson#luke x reader#luke patterson x reader#luke patterson imagine#jatp luke patterson#jatp luke patterson imagine#jatp luke imagine#one day#luke patterson x fem!reader#mini series
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the most beautiful moment in life | viii
pairing: ot7? x reader
genre: hyyh au, high school au, angst, drama, fluff, smut?
length: 5.5k
summary: Eight strangers with different stories happen to meet one day, by fate or some kind of cruel, exquisite happenstance, and realize that they’re not as different as they thought.
a/n: i realize i’m updating really slowly and the reason for that is online school which is taking up pretty much all my time BUT it hasn’t stopped me from writing at all. i actually have many different scenes written already, they’re just not in order, so i have to kind of make myself write the scenes that are happening first before any of those, which is hard sometimes cause i have so many ideas :)
i realize that the pace of the fic is also kind of slow and that’s because i don’t want to have such a big overarching plot (like some kind of mystery to solve or a big villain) but rather small subplots happening at the same time. it feels easier to me to develop characters and relationships and i get to include a lot of different plot ideas that way (and there is so much happening in hyyh). it’s also hard writing this cause the bangtan universe is really complicated when you think too much about it, and we don’t even know everything about it, so i have to work with what we have and what i know.
so thank you guys for liking what i’m writing! i hope i can do the hyyh era some (even if it’s the tiniest amount) justice, and i hope you guys enjoy it too. and if you have feedback or ideas, i’d love to hear it!
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Remembering details from a dream was a lot harder than a nightmare. Nightmares had you waking up in a cold sweat, sometimes plaguing your mind throughout the day if they were intense enough. Dreams, however, were only alive while you were asleep, and then they slipped away from your mind like they never even happened.
For the past few weeks, you’d been getting dreams that you could mostly or somewhat recall more often. Vague, obscure scenes or flashes that changed sporadically because even in your dream state, you had no control over your mind.
But you noticed that they tended to involve people in your life. Your mother, Sana, your old friends, and the seven boys you’d unconsciously formed a friendship with over the past month. Of course, it didn’t have to mean anything. But some of them strangely stood out more than others.
One time, you saw Namjoon standing in a dark area with a single white light illuminating his silhouette from above, and a cigarette slipping from between his fingers. Another time, there was Hoseok at what looked like a train station. He was walking along the train tracks at night like he couldn’t see you watching him. And then, there was a scene of Jungkook walking on to the road, changing almost immediately before a car swerved right into him. That was one thing you couldn’t forget. Because you remembered it had been you driving that car.
“Y/N?”
The voice of the exact boy you were thinking of broke through your string of thoughts. When you looked up, you suddenly remembered where you were.
There were a lot of nice vast areas of green fields that belonged to the Academy. With iron benches and tables and the smell of oak trees, it was an ideal setting for many fundraisers, picnics and outdoor events. You were currently sitting cross legged on top of one of those gray metal tables right beside a tall tree that cast a shade over you and the seven others sitting around you. Judging by the way some of them were looking at you, you must’ve missed something in the conversation.
“Hmm?” you asked, glancing at Jungkook who was sitting beside you, also on top of the table.
“See, I told you she wasn’t listening,” Taehyung said to the two taller boys on either side of him. “Face it, Namjoon. The books were boring.”
While Seokjin seemed thoroughly amused, Namjoon’s expression was just the slightest bit annoyed, so you could tell this argument might have been going on for a while. But his patience with Taehyung and the some of the other boys was astounding to you.
On the opposite side of the bench, Yoongi was sitting with Jimin and Hoseok, and quirked a brow in Taehyung’s way. “You literally said that you watched the Lord of the Rings a month ago.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So?” Namjoon repeated, and the tick in his jaw represented the snapping of his patience. “They have the exact same plot!”
You found yourself drifting from the rest of the conversation again, as some of the other boys began to chime in. On your lap was a notebook you realized you’d been scribbling in with a pencil while the others had been talking. It was hard to decide which was more concerning— the fact that you’d so effectively tuned out the boys, or that you were only vaguely aware that you’d been drawing at the same time.
You felt someone studying you in your peripheral vision. Jungkook decided to finally nudge you. “Not interested in fantasy novel series?”
“No, I—just spaced out for a second,” you answered lamely.
His earlier grin morphed into a slight frown. “Are you okay?”
Am I okay? “Yeah.”
His gaze dropped to your open book, widening a little in mild surprise. “I thought you said you couldn’t draw.”
“I don’t. Art class was an ironic choice that way.”
“What are you talking about?” Jimin said as he leaned over Jungkook to get a better look. Slowly, the others turned their attention towards you too. “This is pretty good.”
Hoseok, who was one of the ones in closest proximity to you, stretched out his hand so you could pass him the book. “Woah.” He went through a few various facial expressions, a lot of them where he scrunched up his eyebrows. “What’s the inspiration behind that?”
“Probably not those dry as hell books,” Taehyung retorted.
Namjoon didn’t hesitate to shove the loud mouthed boy off of the bench, earning more than a few laughs from everyone. Taehyung shot him a glare with an offended hey!
“Nothing,” you answered him. “I just got distracted.”
The notebook was now in Namjoon’s hand and his expression was contemplative as he fixated his eyes onto the page. “You got distracted and absentmindedly drew this? With no idea in your head?”
“I had a dream.” You gave a shrug, stealing a few potato chips from Jungkook’s snack. “So, I drew it.”
“A dream like this?”
You looked back at him, trying not to frown. “Why, is it that weird?”
“Not weird,” he assured. “Just… a little unusual. I’ve never met anyone our age who would come up with stuff like this from their subconscious.”
“Who’s the boy supposed to be?” Yoongi asked after the book got rotated to him.
“I don’t know,” you answered. There hadn’t been a real chance to glimpse the boy from that scene. All you remembered was the black hair and the white shirt he was wearing as he stood looking out the only window in a plain room with only a mattress and white flower petals scattered on the floor. “Some random guy, I guess.”
“Everyone we see in our dreams are people we’ve seen at some point in our lives,” Namjoon said.
You gave this a considerative hum. Though you knew maybe thirty people who could fit in that description. “Well, I don’t remember then.”
“Let me see,” Seokjin said, taking the book in his hand. A moment later, his face morphed into something you couldn’t quite decipher. But it was like for that moment, he had understood something without realizing it.
“Why the hell are so many people out here at this time?” Jimin spoke up as a few students or groups of them began to appear on the field or pathway, spilling out from the building. “This is when it’s supposed to be the quietest here. I was looking forward to not seeing… pretty much everyone.”
“It’s not like we own this place,” Jungkook reminded him.
Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “As long as the bright young things don’t show up…“
And just like on cue, the group of cheerleaders and jocks were walking on the opposite side of the field. You didn’t let your attention linger on the old group of friends you didn’t want anything to do with anymore. But as you glanced away, Yoongi caught your eyes as though he knew what you were thinking.
“Way to go, Jimin,” Hoseok said, giving the boy a light shove. “You just manifested it.”
Taehyung leaned back in his seat. “Seeing them this early in the day is really bad for my digestion.”
“Who told you to shove two chocolate muffins down your throat?” Yoongi said to him, referring to the now empty plastic container sitting beside you. You’d made a large quantity of them the other day and after recalling how Hoseok had liked your baking—and all his following requests over texts to make more— maybe the others would like something too.
The younger boy didn’t acknowledge the harmless judging tone he’d used. “My inner subconscious, which by the way, I have no regrets about.”
“It’s great how you can say that so confidently about something in your life,” Namjoon said with slight skeptical wonder.
“Y/N made those muffins for us with all her heart and soul—“
“Actually, it was just flour and sugar...” you mumbled though your voice was mostly lost under theirs.
“I was just displaying my gratitude,” Taehyung said finally.
“The muffins were actually really good,” Seokjin said to you as he closed the sketchbook and handed it back to you. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.
“Y/N’s a good baker,” Hoseok affirmed before looking at you. “How long did you say you’ve been at it for?”
“Not that long.” You twisted your dyed blonde hair into a bun and slid the pencil you’d been drawing with through it to hold it in place. “I just picked it up this year.”
Taehyung looked at you with a grin. “I guess I’ll have to annoy you enough at work to get stuff for free.”
You returned it with an exaggerated smile. “You come to work during my shift, I’ll have security ask you to leave for harassment.”
His mouth fell open. “B-but I’ll tip!”
You shook your head, chuckling a little. “You’re ridiculous.”
With his arms folded over his chest, he glanced around sombrely. “This is how brittle friendship is, I guess. Like a dark chocolate bar.”
Namjoon, hiding his amusement with an arched brow, said, “Taehyung, remind me to never ask you for poetry recommendations.”
“Hey.”
Everyone seemed to fall into a silence, realizing that voice didn’t belong to any of you. They turned their heads towards the new arrival, but you didn’t have to look to know who’d approached the table. At first, you thought you could get away without saying anything, but the rest of the boys were casting imperceivable glances in your direction. Finally, one of the others did what you didn’t want to.
“Hi,” Namjoon said to the boy who’d once been the closest to you.
Min-hyuk stood there, as though expecting you to eventually say something to him. Then he looked around the group, smiling his friendly, star quarterback smile. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m Min-hyuk.”
“We know who you are,” Yoongi said, the cold undertones in his voice not going unheard by anyone. Leave it to him to keep things harsh but real.
Min-hyuk, probably not used to hearing that kind of tone with that sentence, stared at the boy, a little dumbfounded. “Oh…”
Namjoon—you reminded yourself to tell the guy what a blessing he was— stepped in again. It was probably good that it was him who was leading the conversation. You’d learned by now that none of the others were quite as sensible and level headed when they needed to be. “What he means is, do you need something?”
“Can we talk, Y/N?” Min-hyuk asked finally, the question you’d been dreading, because now it was explicitly directed at you.
You held back a defeated sigh and said, “I have class in a few—“
“It won’t take long, I promise.”
He seemed to be somewhat satisfied when you looked up at him and nodded just imperceptibly. He started to move away from the table, and you made a move to follow when a hand gently closed around your wrist.
“You know, you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” Jungkook said quietly but firmly. His eyes held something like concern, and gazing around the table, the others wore similar expressions.
“Yeah,” you said. “But he won’t stop until I do.”
Jungkook released his hand from yours, watching as you got up and walked over to where Min-hyuk was waiting.
You put your hands in your pockets, right away saying, “Let’s get right to point this time, shall we?”
“I left you a note the other day,” he said, not happy with your attitude, but not able to say anything to it either. “You didn’t reply.”
“That was you?” you asked, dumbly. “I didn’t realize.”
“Come on, Y/N. Who else would write you that?” He paused. “My mother said she saw you at the hospital yesterday. Is everything okay?”
You didn’t meet his gaze, instead mostly looking at the ground. If your eyes drifted around too much, you were afraid to see that other students were watching you like a movie scene. You knew that the seven boys you’d just left were certainly doing that. “Uh huh,” you answered, without any emotion.
Min-hyuk held back an impatient noise. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I just want to know you’re doing fine.”
This time, you did look up to meet his eyes. “Why?”
“Why?” He was partly taken aback with surprise at your response. “We might not be together anymore, but it’s not like I just don’t care all of a sudden.”
“You didn’t care before.”
He stared at your expression, like he was wondering if you meant it. “Do you really think that?“
“You were never on my side.”
“What?”
Before, this would’ve been hard for you to talk about, because you’d only ever avoided it. To think about it would make you think about all the times you knew you should’ve walked away, the times that you stood there and just took everything when you knew you deserved better than that. But maybe it was time to rip the bandaid off. How long were you going to go back and forth like this? How long was he going to try to hold on to you when you wanted out?
“You wanted to know where it all went wrong,” you spoke. “How about when you stood there and let everyone, even our own friends, say all those things about me. And when I asked you to trust me, you didn’t.”
“It wasn’t that simple.” He shook his head. At least he had the decency to look apologetic, to sound like he meant what he thought. “I–I wanted to trust you—“
“I think I see it now.” It was taking a lot of courage for you to finally say what you needed to say, and now that you finally found it, you didn’t even care that other people were watching or listening. “We were both so good at acting like everything about us was perfect. And as soon as I stopped, things changed. The difference between us is that one of us still pretending.”
“Min-hyuk!” One of his friends from the football team—one of your former ones— came up beside him, tapping his shoulder. He looked at you with the kind of friendliness that was reserved for any random student in the hallway. “Hi, Y/N. What are you guys talking about?”
Min-hyuk seemed to have nothing to say, his gaze on you fixed, but his mind on the words you’d spoken. You were glad you had the ability to leave him speechless, to see him actually opening his eyes to a world outside that bubble he lived in. The bubble that you’d also been a part of, but were now glad to have found a way out.
“Well,” you said to both of them. “I have class now.”
With your bag over your shoulder, you turned and headed for the building without paying attention to any of the stares that followed you.
By the end of the day, that courage and energy that had allowed you to speak up to Min-hyuk had dissipated. Hopefully, he wouldn’t approach you again any time soon. Was it asking too much to not be approached by anyone else at all?
Now, you were standing in front of the doors to the pool once again, looking inside, but not having the courage to go in. It was almost a metaphor for your life. You were standing on the outside of a part of your life from the past, not being able to actually go in and see it properly.
Yoongi’s figure materialized next to you, not saying anything at first as though he could tell you were deep in thought. So, you broke the silence first and asked, “Long day?”
“You have no idea,” he answered. “Guess which asshole of a teacher decided to assign us a 10 page paper due in less than a week?”
Glancing sideways at him, you grinned. “The one who probably has hypertension from having to teach you?”
He shot you a dry look, but the corners of his mouth twitched a little like he was also holding back a grin of his own. “You’re hilarious, princess. But also probably right.” He noticed your attention on the pool on the opposite of the doors. "What, are you not allowed to go in or something? Weren’t you on the swim team at some point?”
Instead of answering, you turned away from the doors and started walking down the hallway. “Weren’t you on the basketball team?”
As Yoongi walked alongside you, subtle surprise appeared on his face. “It’s been a while since anyone’s asked me that.”
“You were captain of the team too, right?” you asked. “That’s how I knew you.”
Something else flickered across his face, though you didn’t know what it was. To you, it was probably the face you wore when you were briefly and vaguely recalling something in your mind. “Well, it’s always nice to hear that my reputation precedes me. And not just as a gothic, underground rapper.” He ignored your subtle roll of eyes. “I played shooting guard actually.”
You hummed, remembering all the basketball games you attended in the gymnasium with your old friends. As part of the cheerleading team, you’d had an obligation to be there, but some of the games actually got interesting to watch. The first time you’d noticed Yoongi was when one time you’d been running late and had been trying to not fall behind the rest of the team. You remembered dropping one of your pompoms while trying to tie your hair up, and in passing, he’d picked up and handed it to you. You didn’t think he remembered it, and maybe it was a little embarrassing that you did.
“You were good too.” You stopped near the front doors, most of the students walking around you with no interest since it was the end of the school day. Yoongi shot you a slightly puzzled look. “I was a cheerleader, remember? I’ve been to a bunch of games.”
“I remember,” he said after a moment, and it didn’t sound like something you’d say to someone just to blindly agree with them, so that was why you ended up meeting his gaze. There was something underneath those deep gray eyes that you didn’t really understand, but somehow, still found it startling to hold eye contact.
You half forced a chuckle to move the attention away from you. “Besides, it’s kind of hard to miss the only guy on the team with dyed blonde hair.”
He chuckled. “I almost forgot about that.”
“How could you forget? You were literally my inspiration,” you said, gesturing to your own bleached hair. When he threw you a dubious side eye, you shouldn’t have been surprised. Surely, that would’ve tricked one of the other boys. “Alright, fine, you didn’t. You know, I definitely do not miss the 5 hour practices, or the tiny uniforms or Yuna screaming at some younger, clueless girl to stop slacking.”
“But the outfits were so cute,” Yoongi teased, and though you were glad the topic changed, you shot him an unamused glance. “It was a joke. On a related note… what did the ex-boyfriend want earlier?”
You arched a brow and held back an amused grin. “You can say his name, you know.”
“Yeah, but that would give him too much significance. Unnamed means unimportant.”
You hummed in agreement. “Nothing really.”
“Is that why you ditched us afterwards without so much as a word?” he asked skeptically.
You tried not to sound irritated about it, but you’d hoped you could make it through the day without having to talk about it. “I ditched you, because I wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated about it.”
“How quickly you assume we would interrogate you.”
“Well, wouldn’t you?”
“Fine,” he grumbled after some seconds. “At least 3/7ths of us might. Can you really blame us for being curious? It looked kind of intense.”
Folding your arms over your chest, you looked at him with a grin forming on your lips. “Remember how you said you didn’t care? Well, it’s starting to sound a little like you do.”
He scoffed. “Please. You mistake my blind curiosity for something it isn’t.” He watched you a little longer as you shrugged before saying, “Remember when you said I was good at deflecting? You’re not so bad at it yourself.”
A part of you thought that this was a good time as any to actually talk about it. About how you’d cut things off with Yuna and Min-hyuk, and why you’d wanted to. By now, you felt like you could tell any of the seven boys and they’d listen—actually listen—and Yoongi, despite coming off as aloof and indifferent, wouldn’t judge you or anything. But this recent bond with them felt like a new and good thing, and you just didn’t want to jeopardize it, like you did with most things.
"Do you a need ride home?” Yoongi asked when he realized you were too deep in your head to say anything else about it. “I’m giving Jungkook one too, so I can drop you off after.”
“You go ahead,” you answered. “I have some stuff to do first.”
At first, he seemed almost reluctant to leave you alone, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t insist or comment on it. It would contradict his indifference to most things. Only after he left did you turn and start aimlessly walking down the other side of the hallway. It wasn’t like you had anything to do. You just weren’t sure if you wanted to be around anyone with curiosity like Yoongi’s lingering above your head. Talking about yourself and your personal life was never fun.
Eventually, you ran into another familiar face.
“Hey, what’s up?” Namjoon said as he approached you in the hall.
“If this is about this morning, I’d rather not talk about it,” you decided to say immediately because if anyone could get answers from you by asking the right questions, it was probably Namjoon.
Fortunately for you, Namjoon could’ve read that from a mile away and wasn’t one to pry. He nodded in understanding. “I figured as much. Oh, hold on a second.” From his backpack, he drew out some loose papers tucked into a notebook. “I went through some of these to find whatever was legible enough.”
You scanned the writing briefly. “Your English notes?”
“Yeah, I remember you said the last class went over your head.”
“I just don’t understand why it’s bought and not buyed, but it’s walk and walked? Like why can’t they can’t follow the same rule for every past tense conjugation?” you complained, but still a little touched that he remembered something you’d probably said in passing. “But thanks.”
“Also, if you see Taehyung, can you let him know I can’t walk home with him today?”
You nodded. “Sure. Staying back for extra work?”
“No, I—I have a shift today.”
You wondered why he sounded reluctant to answer. “Where do you work?”
“It’s a library,” he said with a small shrug. “It’s on the other side of the city, so I like to leave a little earlier.”
You shot him an amused grin. “Were there no libraries nearby hiring? Because I know if they saw your GPA, they would not hesitate.”
“Uh, this one has a nicer collection.”
“Alright,” you said, deciding not to question his responses since he hadn’t questioned you. But for some reason, it felt like he was trying to hide something. “See you tomorrow then.”
Smiling, he said, “Thanks, Y/N.”
As he walked away, you had to stop the curiosity from getting to you. It truly was an ordeal to be so curious and not want to intrude upon things that didn’t concern you. You had to remind yourself that it was better that information came to you at the right time rather than forcing it. At first, the reminder was about other people, but sometimes, you thought it was also about yourself.
After exiting through the west doors, you noticed Taehyung at the bottom of the staircase right outside the building. He was leaning against the railing, hood over his head and concentrated on whatever game he was playing on his phone. You slowed your steps, approaching the stairs. “You’re still here.”
Taehyung glanced up at you, slipping his phone into his pocket as you came towards him. “Waiting for Namjoon. The kid’s a genius, but his punctuality could use a little improvement.”
You quirked a brow. “Kid? He’s older than you.”
Folding his arms over his chest, he said pointedly, “And I’m older than you. So how about you don’t question me?”
You had to bite back a smile at his antics. It was hard to believe sometimes that most of these boys were older than you. “He told me to tell you he has work today, so he can’t make it.”
He let out a loud and dramatic groan, practically cringing at himself. “For real? I probably look like some idiot, waiting on the stairs for his even more of an idiot boyfriend.”
You shrugged, not hiding the smile this time. “Just a little.”
He looked back at you. “How are you getting home? I’ll walk with you.”
He already started walking, expecting you to follow, so you didn’t get a chance to reply. With a defeated sigh, you decided to go after him.
Your first mistake was choosing to walk all the way home instead of taking the bus. Your second mistake was letting Taehyung take the lead, because that boy looked like he’d never had a plan a day in his life. While you somewhat admired the spontaneity, you were used to routine or a plan of some kind. Although you did suppose that this year, everything that had happened, and was happening now, was not planned at all.
“I’ve never gone this way before.”
The buildings were older and a bit worn away, but almost in an intentional manner, posters and signs on the gray brick walls. You passed several small shops and restaurants and cafes that despite appearing quaint seemed very cute. The people that walked by were all in their own worlds, not so much as glancing at you or anyone near them. It was something like a secret tourist spot or a hidden gem.
“Really?” Taehyung said. He walked on your right, but a little ahead. You wanted to say it was because he was leading the way, but that presumed he knew where he was going. “This street’s pretty cool. Hidden away from the centre, though, so you don’t really know about it until you come yourself.”
You removed your eyes from an old bookstore with a chalkboard sign outside. “You must do a lot of exploring, huh?”
“Whatever gets me out of the house.” He stopped walking abruptly. When you stopped to ask what was wrong, you saw a mischievous smile form on his face. “I just had a brilliant idea.”
“Why am I kind of doubtful?”
Despite the many, many questions you asked, Taehyung didn’t answer any of them. He could try and be mysterious if he wanted, but you wouldn’t buy it, was what you said to him. Instead, you waited outside while he went into a convenience store for a few minutes. You shouldn’t have been so surprised when he emerged with a plastic bag in hand, full of bottles of spray paint. You opened your mouth to ask what he was planning, but he just tugged on your arm and made you follow him around the corner.
The street you stopped at had to be somewhat of a visual arts scene, because you recalled passing arts and crafts places and small galleries, and the wall that stood in front of you now was a graffiti wall.
“This is so cool,” you said in awe, all thoughts of skepticism at Taehyung’s actions gone. Your gaze roamed over the various artwork and writing, painted on by different kinds of paint and people and minds. It was like an anonymous outlet for creativity and self expression, something like in the olden days when things like freedom of expression was outlawed, so people had to get creative around it.
“I love all kinds of art,” Taehyung said, dropping his backpack and crouching near the ground. “But graffiti has become more interesting recently. Here.”
You looked to see that he was holding out a can of spray paint for you. “This is vandalizing.”
He half scoffed, half laughed. “This is an artistic statement.”
“They’re not mutually exclusive, Taehyung.”
“Relax, Y/N.” He placed the can in your hand himself after he decided that you wouldn’t take it, then took another out of the bag for himself. “I’ve done this billions of times. You won’t get caught.”
Despite yourself, there was an urge in you to just do it, get your hands a little messy. That was why you liked to bake after all, wasn’t it? That was why you chose art class. You could make a mess and make something good out of it. You could control something instead of being controlled. But turning back to the wall of art and messages and stories, you hesitated. “I can’t paint like this,” you tried lamely.
Taehyung shot you a look. “I saw your sketch today. It was far from shitty.” After a minute of waiting, he sighed. “Fine, I’ll go first.”
The way he walked up the an empty section of the wall with confidence, how he shook the paint can and effortlessly began to draw strokes in red paint told you that he wasn’t lying when he said he’d done this a lot.
When he finished, he stepped back to where you stood, briefly appraising his work before saying, “Your turn. Don’t think too much. Just whatever’s on your mind, let it out.”
So, you found yourself closing your eyes briefly, and releasing a breath before stepping forward. You pushed on the paint can’s nozzle and let your mind take over for your hand and for a few minutes, all that was heard was the faint car engines in the distance and the spraying noise of the paint. Finally, you let your arm drop to see what you’d made. It was a pair of blue wings like a butterfly’s.
Taehyung studied the wall for a moment before humming, “Interesting.”
“By interesting, you mean awful.”
He shot you a look. “By interesting, I mean interesting. You and Namjoon might like to have second meanings to your sentences, but I’m a simple guy.”
“Uh huh.” You watched him move back to the wall and start painting something else. It was funny how before you’d known him, you had him pegged for some kind of reckless skater boy with a rebellious streak. He was actually more of an artsy boy with a rebellious streak. “I guess it would be easier if everyone wasn’t always pretending to be something they’re not.”
“Was Min-hyuk pretending to be a super nice guy again?” He only glanced over his shoulder at you when he didn’t get an answer. Of course this topic would’ve inevitable come up although you’d also assumed Taehyung would avoid uncomfortable conversations whenever he could. “None of those guys are all what they show. It’s good that you hit one of them. You might accidentally activate some part in the brain that knocks some sense into them.”
You nodded at this, slightly amused. “If that was how neurobiology worked.”
“Let’s experiment. Hit me over the head really hard and tomorrow, let’s see if I pass my math test.”
You were holding back a laugh when your gaze fell on part of his drawing. “Is that your signature?”
“Oh, that... it’s kind of like my alias,” Taehyung said almost like it was embarrassing for him to say. This must have been the first time he’d told someone about his side hobby. “For when I’m out painting.”
“For when you’re out vandalizing,” you remarked.
He mocked the face you’d made earlier and said, “They’re not mutually exclusive, Y/N.”
You let out a scoff, but couldn’t hide your amusement. “What does it mean? The V?”
“It’s short for Vante.”
You hummed. “Interesting.”
“You mean interesting good or interesting bad?”
“I mean interesting,” you said, deepening your voice a little to mock him.
The side of his mouth curved into a grin. “Touche.”
Returning your attention to the wall, your eyes began to study the various drawings, fleetingly going back to another wall and another drawing. “You haven’t seen anything like the hwa yang yeong hwa we saw before, have you?”
“No,” Taehyung answered, then gave it another thought. “Not that I’ve been to a lot of graffiti places outside of this area. But from where I have looked around, it’s made me think that maybe this... Smeraldo person isn’t a regular graffiti artist.”
“As in, this was just a one time thing for them?”
“Maybe.”
“I guess that means it’s not just graffiti we should be looking at,” you speculated. “It’s definitely a start but could be any art form.”
“Or maybe the art is just a way to get it out there.”
You frowned. “Meaning what? Someone’s trying to say something? To send a message?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible, yeah.”
His attention refocused on the drawing he’d started, but your mind began to run through possible explanations. What if somehow someone was trying to say something? More importantly, what if someone was trying to say something to you?
The sun was beginning to lower by the time you reached Taehyung’s place. You didn’t even realize the two of you had been out for a while with his detour idea.
You tilted your head up to observe the apartment building complex. Since you’d never been to this part of the city before, you couldn’t say much about it. But by the oldness and the obvious low maintenance of the building, you guessed that the rent was affordable. Taehyung, like you, wasn’t one of the richer kids of the Academy. You supposed that the talent that had gotten him in was art related, if not painting specifically.
“Is this where you live?” you asked to break the silence.
“Yup,” Taehyung said, popping the sound at the end. “Home sweet…” He trailed off a little as his faraway gaze crossed the building, instead turning back to you. “Do you live close by? I can walk with you.”
You made a dubious face. “Are you sure you want to walk there and then all the way back?”
“Hey, I may be lazy, but I’m not that lazy.”
“I don’t need protecting, if that’s what you were going to say.”
He scoffed. “Obviously not. You broke a guy’s fucking jaw!”
“It wasn’t actually broken,” you muttered before shaking your head. “Wouldn’t you rather go home? Your parents are probably waiting for you.”
“No one’s waiting for me.” Before you could say anything, he waved it away, his long hair hiding the expression on his face you were trying to read. “It’s fine. Forget it.”
But he didn’t make a move to walk towards the complex’s stairs that led up to the first floor. Even as you stood there for another minute and he just stood with you, you realized he wasn’t about to head home regardless of if you left now or stayed. And for a moment, you wondered if this was what he had meant that day weeks ago. No one’s waiting for me. It was a thought that had held a place in your mind for a long time too.
It’s better not to force information you don’t even need to know, a voice in the back of your head reminded. Finally, you said, “Are you hungry? I could go for some coffee, and the Brew’s not far from here.”
Taehyung turned to look at you. If he was grateful for the chance to avoid going home, he didn’t show it. “Will you give me a discount?”
“If you stop talking, I’ll pay for your entire order.”
The carefree smile that stretched across his face as he started dragging you towards the next street was enough for you to know that he was, in fact, at least a little grateful.
chapter vii // chapter ix (coming soon)
#bts#fanfiction#fic#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts scenarios#bts smut#bts fluff#bangtan x reader#ot7 x reader#hyyh#hyyh au#hyyh era#romance#drama#bts series#bangtan#seokjin#namjoon#yoongi#hoseok#jimin#taehyung#jungkook#v#rm#jhope#suga
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Hi! I'm new to your blog but I really love your writings! This might be long but, can I ask for popular school girl SuA with shy and timid reader that always sketches SuA on her sketchbook but then she loses it and finds out that SuA found her sketchbook?
Sua x Reader
Sketchbook
As usual she was slowly appearing on the paper, your pencil drawing her features in a systematic way. Your lines were fast but clear, you knew you didn't have that much time before she'll change her posture.
Few steps in front of you was your eternal muse Kim Bora, or rather Queen Sua as you liked to call her.
She was the popular girl of your highschool, known for her strong temper and legendary beauty. She wasn't the typical mean cheerleader but wasn't a sweet and innocent girl either. Her and her friends seemed to be nice people from what you knew, not that you would knew if they weren't anyway. You were too much of an introvert and an excessively shy person to even dare meet their eyes.
At the time her head turned in the opposite direction, you were already ready to start a new sketch, your pencil pretty much never leaving the paper of your sketchbook.
A sketchbook that was filled with Sua's face, smile and body in general. There weren't really anything else drawn in there, your only source of inspiration being her. Her face would be plastered at every corner of every page of this book by the time the school year would end.
It didn't matter though, you were the only person seeing it and it would forever be that way. So you kept doing it, you kept drawing her over and over again like a maniac. Every class you had together was an opportunity to captured her beauty once again.
Friday was the best for that, Sua at a perfect distance, a two hours boring class that didn't make her move the slightest and a perfect natural light coming from the window.
Sadly this class always seems to end prematurely, never letting you the time to just contemplate the features that you spent so much time and energy copying. The instant your pencil touched your pencil case fabric, the bell rang.
You sighed, disappointed with your performance, still unable to purely enjoy the view. Next time you thought as you grabbed your bag and exited the classroom, Bora had already leave so you didn't have any good reason to stay any longer.
As usual once home you grabbed a snack and went right into your room, you had enough interactions with people for a week. Your shyness making you uncomfortable even by just staying in the same room as other people, even though you knew nobody was forcing you to talk to any of them.
As you got your homework out of your bag determined to finish them as fast as possible, you noticed that for once your sketchbook wasn't on top of the other books as it usually was. Something wasn't right, it was always on top because it was the last thing you packed everytime.
Maybe it fell inside your backpack you tried to convince yourself as you emptied your bag carefully. Putting out your books one by one, you started to understand that you wouldn't find it there.
You didn't remember putting it in after the end of the class or rather you knew you didn't. You've left your sketchbook filled with drawings of your crush on a desk in a classroom. You were now sure that at least one person other than you would see it too, you were just praying for them to be a teacher.
It was the best thing that could happen, well rather the least embarrassing, a teacher wouldn't go around and spread rumours about a nobody liking the Queen Bee, when it would be the first thing a teenager would do.
Plus if it's the teacher of your class who found it, it was even better because even though his subject was super boring he on the other hand was super kind and wouldn't even try to make a joke about it.
You probably should have decided to wait until monday to get it back but seeing that it was only 5pm and knowing your school was closing at six, you decided to try your luck.
Running all the way back to school was really making you want to die but it was for your own good at the end. Arrived in front of the gate you lost all hope, it was already closed.
You cursed, you were out of breath and sweaty for nothing. God, you hated yourself for this mistake now. You closed your eyes, hands on your thighs trying to breath correctly again when a voice echoed.
"You'll never be a great athlete but at least you tried I guess. I mean, I would have tried too if I were you. Forgetting your precious sketchbook full of me, seriously shame on you."
You didn't have a lot of occasions to hear Sua's voice, yet you knew it was her immediately as she opened her mouth. You eyes were ready to pop out of their orbits seeing her this close and directly talking to you for the first time.
She was still looking inside the book, observing page after page carefully. Saying you were embarrassed would be an understatement. If you could become a rock right now you would.
"You sure are talented, no need to try to be an athlete you're way better at drawing there's no doubt."
You didn't even know it was a good thing or not, your heart telling you that your ultimate crush just complimented your drawing skills and your brain reminding you the number of drawing of her that were in this sketchbook. She would surely think you're creepy once realizing that there was nothing but her in there.
Feeling your intense gaze Bora looked back at you making you panick.
"You seem really embarrassed about what you drew, should I be offended ?"
You tried to talk but your throat was as dry as a desert, you were only able to shake your head, your voice suddenly inaudible.
A smirk made its way on Sua's face, seeing you in this state was pleasing her, that's why she decided to force your voice out by getting closer.
"If you're not even able to deny it I'm surely going to be offended and you might never see your sketchbook again. So is it embarrassing to draw me ?"
"No no it's not like that, I just don't want you to think I'm a psycho."
"If it can reassure you while you were training for the Olympics I had the time to get a look at every single pages in that book and never have I thought that you were anything but cute."
"Oh thanks God I was worried you might be scared of me..wait what did you just say ??"
Seeing the way your now red cheeks Sua let out a chuckle before answering.
"I think your cute, especially when you're shy actually, those blush suit you well."
"I..I..."
You didn't even know what to answer, you never expected something like to happen. Only your dreams allowed you to live that kind of fantasy but now that the fantasy became real you couldn't do much except blush even more.
Of course Sua didn't stop yet, she needed to add something that would forever change your life.
"So .. would you go on a date with me ? I...I hope I didn't misread the signs but I kind of understand that you were into me at least as much as I'm into you, you just are way more talented than I am."
As she said those words Bora hand you a notebook, you didn't understand what it meamt at first. But once you red what was inside you understand that while you were busy drawing her, Sua was occupied writing songs about you.
Maybe forgetting that sketchbook was for the best.
Hi, welcome to this blog then and thank you 🤗 Here is your request hope you'll like it. Give feedback. 💕 -Ael
#kpop girls#girl group#girlfriend#dreamcatcher sua#dreamcatcher imagines#dreamcatcher scenarios#dreamcatcher#sua dreamcatcher#queen sua#kim bora#bora icons#sua scenarios#sua imagines#high school#high school au
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Way to Please
Read part one first, read on Ao3
Trigger warnings: Emotional abuse, gaslighting, being called selfish, ableism, familial abuse, panic attacks, touch-starved Logan, food mention
A/N: This is a commission! Another thanks to @darkle-elkrad!! :D More info at the end
Disclaimer: J. is NOT Janus, he’s an unsympathetic OC.
Read on Ao3
Logan pushed the knob on his fidget cube in slow circles. It was a simple toy, all black, and usually hidden in his pocket. He currently had it pressed between his thigh and the car door. His stomach was knotted and he stared out the window almost obsessively, counting every mile they got closer to his new school.
“You messing with that toy again?”
Logan looked at J. He shoved it in his pocket. “Sorry.”
“‘S fine. People are gonna make fun of you for being a baby, though.”
Logan’s face heated up. “I told you I won’t use it in front of other people.”
They pulled into the college’s parking lot. Logan’s small life was packed up neatly in the backseat. J. turned the car off and sighed.
“You sure you don’t need help moving in?” J. gave him a look. “You know how you can get.”
Logan nodded once. “I know. But I can control that. I can move in myself, don’t worry.”
hesitated, then sighed again. “Alright. Get out, then. Call me tonight.”
“Yeah. Love you.”
“Mhm.”
Logan stacked up his three boxes and started towards his dorm. Luckily, J. had taken a few weeks off his own education and brought Logan down for a tour last week, so he knew exactly where he was going. He managed all the way to his room and fumbled for the key card in his wallet.
He nearly dropped his boxes, and his heart leapt into his throat. He caught them just fine, but the panic remained, fizzling slowly like water down a stopped drain. His fingers itched for his cube. He ignored it, and got the door open just before the anxiety peaked.
One half of the room was already claimed, half unpacked suitcases sprawled over the bed and wardrobe, so Logan dumped his stuff on the second bed. He immediately righted the boxes and tossed some fallen items back inside. He glanced over his shoulder.
He was alone.
He shoved his hand in his pocket and found the side with the buttons, mashing them down before flipping it to switch. He click-click-clacked it a few times as the tension slipped from his chest.
He took a second to look around the room. His roommate’s life was coated in black and purple. Band tees stuck out of the half clothes drawer, notebook upon notebook littering his bed. He had a purple and black plaid quilt tossed over a gray weighted blanket. An expensive laptop sat freely on the desk.
“...oh, come on, you are such an asshole.” The door opened and closed, and a boy with purple hair came inside, holding a phone to his ear with his arms full of sodas and candy. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck you, too. Sure. Later. Love you.”
Logan blinked.
The boy dumped his food on his bed and shoved his phone in his pocket. He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, hi.”
Logan nodded. “Was that a… girlfriend?”
“Nah, my brother.” He turned back to line his drinks on the shared desk. “I’m Virgil.”
“Logan.” He hesitated, then turned to his own bed, pulling out neatly rolled up clothes.
“I hope you don’t mind that I already picked my side.” Virgil grabbed another armful of clothes and went over to the wardrobe, punching down the fabric until he could layer more inside.
Logan couldn’t help but say, “You could fit more if you folded them.”
Virgil snorted. “There’s three other drawers. I’ll be fine.”
“Right.” His face flushed. “Sorry.”
Logan hung his clothes in the closet. They unpacked silently. Logan occasionally tapped his pocket, just to make sure his cube was still there.
Virgil sat at the edge of his bed and held out his hand. “Let me see your class schedule?”
Logan startled, then fumbled for his backpack. “Right— Uh, sorry, one second.”
He found it while Virgil watched with raised eyebrows. He handed it over. Virgil hummed, gray eyes trailing over the paper. He really was striking. He was loud in a way Logan never wanted to be, but Virgil didn’t seem upset by it. It was all clearly a choice, from the way he dressed to how he styled his hair. He lounged on his bed, taking up all the space without taking his combat boots off first, chewing on his nails— likely while the nail polish was chipped.
Nail polish. His middle fingers were painted black, the rest a strong purple. How did he have the confidence to wear nail polish? If Logan tried that, J. would make fun of him until he cried.
“We have some Gen-Eds together,” Virgil mused. “And an art class. How long have you been drawing?”
Logan swallowed and sat on his bed. It was clear Virgil wasn’t handing the schedule back any time soon. “Not long. I just picked it up last year, actually. It sounded, I don’t know, relaxing.”
Virgil grinned and glanced at him. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it?”
“It’s… hard. Harder than I expected.”
“Can I see?”
Logan hesitated. He reached for the box with his sketchbook, but Virgil held his hand up.
“It’s okay. No need to look so panicked.” He chuckled. “I’ll just look later. I was going to go look around campus, make sure I know where all my classes are. Wanna come with? We can check the Gen-Eds.”
Logan really didn’t want to— he knew where his classes were, and he planned on finding good spots for his stuff —but he nodded and stood. He glanced at Virgil’s bed, where he laid on top of all of his stuff. A few things crumpled and crunched as he rolled onto his feet.
“Cool.” He grabbed a Monster off the desk and popped it open. “Let’s go.”
Virgil wasn’t actually as loud as he looked. He had the confidence down, and he teased Logan quite a bit, but he was very… calm. Logan would never admit it out loud, but he was jealous. He could never be that sure of himself.
After finding their Gen-Eds, they agreed to stick together to find their other classes as well. Logan admitted to having already visited his— Virgil laughed —so they set off to find Virgil’s.
Once they got to the last class on the list, Virgil stopped. “Shit,” he whispered. “Oh, shit.”
Logan frowned. “What is it?”
The wind blew through Virgil’s bangs, revealing wide, anxiety-filled eyes. The courtyard was mostly empty, the occasional student passing by a couple dozen feet away.
“They put me in the wrong class.” Virgil pushed his hair back and drew in a shaky breath. “We agreed I’d be in the morning class, I— I can’t make this one, I don’t know— fuck.”
“Hey.” Logan took a small step closer. “Hey, it’s okay. We can just go talk to someone, right?”
Virgil shook his head quickly. His breathing was speeding up. “No, are you kidding? They’re probably so busy, this is stupid. I just— fuck, I’ll have to make it work.”
“Virgil, no.” Logan laughed weakly. “No, come on, we can fix this. Breathe, right?”
“‘Breathe—’ Right, fuck, I’m not… I’m not breathing.”
Logan held his hands out, and Virgil scrambled to take them. Logan held them tight. “Uh, just follow my breathing.”
Logan helped him right himself, a few tears slipping out from Virgil’s eyes, but he mostly got himself back together pretty fast.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Virgil gave Logan their schedules and pushed his sweaty palms down his pants. He wiped his face. “Sorry, that was… stupid.” He fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie.
“No, it wasn’t. I… uh, here.” Logan hesitated, then found his fidget cube and pressed it into Virgil’s hand.
Virgil looked at it in surprise. His fingers naturally found the side with the buttons, click-click-clicking. “Oh. Thanks. I had one of these last year but I lost it.”
Logan blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’ll give it back though, don’t worry.”
“Let’s go talk to the registrar. We can tell them your schedule is conflicting.”
Virgil stared at the cube. He flicked the dial a few times, listening to the light crank as it snapped back. “Are you sure?” He mumbled.
Logan forced a smile against his nerves. “Of course. Better to do it now then wait until it’s worse.”
“That’s true. Okay.” He laughed weakly and straightened his shirt out. “Right, you’re right. Sorry about this.”
“It’s fine,” Logan promised.
Logan walked with him down to the registrar's office and it ended up being an easy fix. Virgil walked out while rolling his eyes.
“I can’t believe that gave me a panic attack. Shit, I’ve had panic attacks over some dumb things, but… wow.”
Logan laughed. “It’s a… big day. Don’t worry about it. I, uh… I had a couple today, too.”
“Well, panic attacks make me hungry. Do you want to go grab something to eat?”
Logan nodded. “Sure.”
They stopped outside their dorm building. Virgil texted for a moment, then said, “I have a car we can borrow. Come on.”
They found a silver truck in the Junior’s parking lot. Virgil pulled the keys out of his pocket. “It’s my brother’s,” he said. “I’ve got a spare key.”
“Your brother sounds cool.” Logan climbed into the passenger side.
It was a very tall truck. His face heated up as he struggled a little to get inside.
“He’s an asshole,” Virgil laughed. “What do you want to eat?”
“Uh—” Logan’s mind blanked. “Um… I don’t— I don’t know, what do you want?”
Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Um… Okay, well, I know a Chinese place close by that’s good. We can grab one to bring back?”
Logan nodded and relaxed into his seat. “Yeah. That’s good.”
Virgil pulled out of the parking lot. They took their food to go, Logan managing to find a kosher option fairly easily, and ate while flipping through Netflix. They found a show they’d both been wanting to watch and got stuck on it easily. They ended up watching the entire first season, only stopping to break open Virgil’s collection of snacks.
Logan went to bed that night, later than he ever had, feeling better than he ever had.
xxx
“Hey, I’m going to see my brother. Want to come?”
Logan looked up from his homework in surprise. “Um… sure?”
Virgil had been acting weird lately. He invited him to go somewhere or do something every day. If Logan showed the slightest bit of hesitation, he backed off, but there he was again the next day. If Logan did hesitate, Virgil wouldn’t let him go back on it. Logan didn’t understand it.
He’d also started acting more nervous around Logan. Less sure of himself. Logan worried he did something. But if he did, there’s no way Virgil would want him to meet his brother, would he?
He settled his homework neatly back inside his binder and checked a few things off his planner before grabbing his phone and wallet. He followed Virgil outside, where the streetlights glowed warmly against the dark sky, and across the courtyard. The Junior dorm buildings looked identical to the Freshmen’s, only a bit bigger. Inside, their lobby was much more taken care of, and looked more like a gameroom than anything. Groups of students sat with decks of cards, at vending machines, at pool tables. Instead of heading up to the dorms, Virgil led Logan to a small group of kids settled in bean bag chairs.
A boy with striking similarities to Virgil— all angles and bones, the same gray eyes —sat with another boy, covered in freckles, settled in his lap.
“Hey, Jan. Hey, Patton.” Virgil placed a light hand on Logan’s shoulder. The touch burned through his shirt, and Logan nearly sucked in a breath. “This is Logan, he’s my roommate.”
“Wow, you’re getting along with your roommate?” Janus asked in surprise. “I guess I owe Patton ten bucks.”
“You do not!” Patton rolled his eyes with a smile. “We did not make a bet, Virgil. He’s doing his thing.”
“I know,” Virgil laughed.
He pulled the last free bean bag chair towards them and yanked Logan down with him. Their sides pressed together, the bag molding them against each other, Logan couldn’t breathe. He managed to settle himself on the edge of the chair. His side was cold as ice, his heart racing. Virgil gave him a weird look before shoving it off and looking back to Janus.
Logan thought briefly when the last time he had a hug was. Surely not that long ago, right? Parents hugged their children all the time. But he couldn’t quite recall. If he’d been hugged recently, would he still have the strong urge to reach out and feel Virgil’s hair? To take his hand and trace Virgil’s fingers? To feel Virgil’s palm against his face?
Logan’s face flushed. Stop acting creepy.
“What are we playing?” Virgil asked.
Virgil helped him through the card game. It became obvious towards the third round that Janus was cheating, mostly because Patton scolded him loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Wait, he’s been cheating?” Virgil threw his cards down dramatically. “You bitch!”
Janus laughed as Virgil kicked the cards at him. Logan tensed.
“Stop fighting!” Patton sighed, but he was smiling. Why was he smiling? He batted his eyelashes at Janus. “Baby, buy me a snack?”
Janus picked Patton up, stood, then tossed Patton into the bean bag chair. He squealed.
“Don’t use that voice on me.” Janus leaned down and kissed him softly. “Totally unfair.”
“Oh, is it?”
They mumbled together for a moment between kisses. Logan was certain his face had never been so red. Virgil picked up a card and flung it at them.
“Gross! I don’t want to see my brother make out with anyone!”
Janus snorted as he pulled away and found his wallet. “That’s just because you’ve never made out with anyone.”
Virgil’s ears turned red. “That’s not true! Gah!”
Janus left to the vending machine, and Patton relaxed into the chair with a wide grin. “So Logan, what are you studying?”
“Physics,” he mumbled. “Are you two okay?”
Virgil looked at him in surprise. “Me and Janus?”
Logan nodded.
“Uh, yeah? Why?”
“You guys were fighting?”
Patton giggled while Virgil raised an eyebrow. “We weren’t fighting, we were joking. You don’t have brothers?”
“No, I have one. He’s two years older than me.”
“Alright… what’s his name? Maybe Janus knows him.”
“He doesn’t go to this school.” Logan found his fidget cube in his pocket and rolled his thumb around the metal ball. “He’s at a college in our hometown.”
“You moved away for college?” Patton asked in surprise.
“What’s going on?” Janus dropped into Patton’s lap and pressed several packets of gummies into his palm with a kiss to his cheek.
“Logan went to college out of state to get away from his brother,” Virgil said.
Logan’s eyes widened. “That’s not true!”
Virgil bumped their shoulders together.
“If Virgil tried going to college out of state without a good reason, I’d kill him.” Janus pulled Patton closer. “Seriously. I’d be worried out of my mind.”
“You don’t…” Logan hated to confirm Virgil’s suspicion, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “you don’t need, like, a break?”
Everyone stared at him.
“No,” Janus said flatly. “No, I actually love my brother.”
“Gross,” Virgil mumbled, but his ears were red again.
“I love my brother,” Logan insisted.
“Oh, we don’t doubt that.”
“I just— I don’t know. You guys were fighting yesterday morning, too.”
Virgil stared at him in confusion, until it clicked. He laughed. “You mean when I was on the phone? Lo, he called me a coffee gremlin so I told him to fuck off. It wasn’t a fight. We were just messing with each other.”
Heat steadily climbed up Logan’s neck. He closed his hand around his cube until it hurt. He wanted to curl in on himself, escape the conversation, and never see any of them again.
“What the hell does your brother call you?” Janus asked.
“It’s not a big deal,” Logan said weakly. “We’re just— we’re not as close as you, I guess.”
“Logan, it’s okay,” Patton said softly, face pinched with worry. “You can talk about it. No one’s here to judge you, we’re not trying to force you to be grateful for your family or anything.”
Janus squeezed Patton’s shoulder. “Yeah, we know about shitty families, if that’s what this is.”
“And that’s the vibe I’m getting,” Virgil added. “The shit Janus calls me doesn’t bother me. I tell him if he says something fucked up. What does your brother do?”
“I— I don’t know, I don’t know.” Logan pushed his sweaty palms against his jeans. “He just… gets mad sometimes. You know?”
“No,” Virgil said flatly. “What does he do when he’s mad?”
“He just… gets mad.” Logan’s voice trembled. He didn’t know how to get out of this. He made a big deal out of it, something that so clearly wasn’t a big deal, and now he was just stuck. “I guess he, I don’t know, he calls me selfish sometimes.”
“Like when?” Patton asked. He’d leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees, brows knitted.
Logan stuttered through a few stories off the top of his head. He’d tried to tell them in a casual way, insist that it wasn’t a big deal and he was fine, but everyone was so… concerned. Virgil’s fists clenched around his hoodie, Janus’ eyes narrowed. Logan ducked his head. He was shaking.
He scrambled to his feet. “I’m sorry, I think I— I think I need to go.”
“Logan,” Virgil sighed. “We can stop talking about it, but come on. You can’t like the way he treats you.”
“Does it matter?”
Everyone paused. Logan pressed a hand to his forehead.
“No,” Janus’ voice dripped with sarcasm, “of course not. People can just do whatever they want to you with no consequences.” He waved his hand. “Who cares, right?”
Logan froze up. His muscles were pulled taut, eyes squeezed shut, his body wilting like a dead flower.
“Janus,” Patton scolded.
He sighed. “Sorry. Look, of course it matters. Come on, sit down. Everything is fine.”
Logan didn’t believe that. But he sat anyway. He answered their questions. He explained everything as honestly as he could.
Part of him wanted to defend J., to insist that it really wasn’t that bad and J. loved him. But Logan wasn’t sure if J. did love him. He’d heard how Virgil talked about Janus, and there wasn’t a doubt in Logan’s mind that J. would never talk about him that way. He’d seen how Janus looked at Virgil, sometimes angry but usually in a protective way. It wasn’t like anything Logan had seen from J.
Hearing them throw around the words ‘abusive,’ ‘manipulative,’ and even ‘gaslighting,’ was hard. Logan jammed the joystick on his fidget cube around so much he almost broke it, bouncing his leg up and down, eventually having to get up and pace. He kept waiting for the snapping, for everyone to tell him how annoying he was being and that he needed to sit and be quiet. They didn’t.
It was almost uncomfortable.
The conversation eventually moved— Logan was simultaneously relieved and disappointed —but everyone looked at him different after that. Before Virgil and Logan went back to their room, Patton offered a hug. Logan hesitated, and was about to step into Patton’s arms, when Virgil grabbed his shoulder— just long enough to make him pause.
“You don’t have to say yes,” he said flatly.
Patton’s eyes widened. “Oh, gosh! Right! Of course not. Sorry, Logan.”
Logan cleared his throat. “It’s okay.”
On the walk back, Virgil said, “We’re going to have to work on that.”
Logan shoved his hands in his pockets. With Fall kicking in full force, it was freezing outside at night, their breath coming out as fog.
“Work on what?” He mumbled. His body was heavy, eyes lidded.
“Your whole people pleaser bullshit. You don’t have to say yes to everything. It’s okay to not want to do something.”
Logan swallowed. He shrugged.
Virgil stepped in front of Logan and crossed his arms. “We need to set some boundaries, or else I can’t be friends with you. I’m not going to hurt you because you won’t communicate. I won’t be like J.” Virgil stared for a moment, eyes swiping over Logan’s face. His eyes softened. “I won’t be mad. You’re just going to have to trust me on that.”
“I don’t…” Logan’s heart thumped in his ears. He pressed his thumb against the buttons of his cube. “I don’t really… I don’t know how to handle being touched.”
Virgil’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? I mean, okay. So don’t touch you, then?”
“Maybe, just… I don’t know, not that often?” Logan bounced on the balls of his feet. The cold had wormed its way into his bones, and he felt like if he didn’t move he’d either go crazy or freeze to death.
“Come on, let’s get inside.” Virgil nodded towards the door.
They didn’t talk until they were settled into their beds and the lights were off.
“Thanks for telling me,” Virgil said. “I’ll talk to the others, too. You can always reach out if you want.”
Logan’s eyes watered. He was grateful for the dark. “Yeah,” he whispered.
“Goodnight, Lo.”
“Goodnight, Virgil.”
xxx
Virgil and Logan laid on their stomachs, on the floor. Notebooks and textbooks were spread out in front of them, covered in highlighter and pen.
It was a few months after Logan had confessed about J., and a few things were becoming apparent. 1) Virgil was not giving up on him. Neither were Janus or Patton.
2) J. probably, almost definitely, did not love Logan.
Every day it was becoming more and more clear.
Logan had never been treated the way Virgil and his friends treated him. Sometimes they argued, sometimes Logan was so frustrated and confused he wanted to cry, but they never made him feel like he wasn’t important. Every fight was important. And for the first time, he was able to move on from them. Even when things weren’t quite resolved, even when there was still more to talk about— that didn’t stop Virgil from inviting him out to dinner, from joining him to study, for putting on a bad horror movie.
“Alright,” Virgil sighed, pushing the textbook away and burying his face in his arms. His voice came out muffled, “if I look at American History anymore I’m going to die. What next?”
“Uh…” Logan cleared his throat and looked at their stack of remaining textbooks.
Semester finals were coming up in the next month and Logan was severely behind in Calculus.
“I don’t— I don’t know, what do you want to do next?”
Virgil picked his head up sluggishly. He blinked at Logan for a second, hair mussed, wrinkles under his eyes. He grabbed their stack of textbooks and dragged it closer.
He hummed as he looked through it, then pulled the Calculus and Economics textbooks. He shoved the others away. “Which one?”
“Um…”
“Come on, I’m good with either. Which one?”
Logan hesitated, then pushed away the Economics book.
“Cool.” Virgil flipped the textbook open. “Come on, I want to get this done.”
Logan flushed. He scrambled to find his notebook and flashcards, struggling to focus. A sturdy feeling of control settled over Logan’s bones, something he didn’t think he’d ever felt before.
xxx
“Almost ready to go?”
“Uh, yeah, just let me—”
Logan yanked the blanket down his bed, then pushed aside his pillow. He relaxed and snatched his fidget cube, shoving it in his pocket.
“Okay.” He straightened up. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
They left their dorm and headed downstairs. They’d planned to meet Janus and Patton in the parking lot so they could all go to this arcade nearby. Janus had jokingly (jokingly?) called it a double date.
“Yeah, there’s this zombie game you’d really like,” Virgil rambled as they stepped outside. He immediately tensed against the cold and stepped closer to Logan. Logan shuffled against him, their shared body heat negligible.
The parking lot appeared ahead and Logan stopped.
“Lo?” Virgil frowned. “What’s up?”
got out of his car and grinned as his eyes landed on Logan. He waved.
“Um…” Shit. “I— I don’t know, uh—”
“Logan!”
Virgil looked over his shoulder as J. headed towards them. His face darkened. “Is that J.?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey!” J. stopped in front of them and grinned. “Surprise. Come on, let’s go grab dinner. Who’s this?”
“Virgil.” Logan stepped closer. “My roommate, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Well anyway, let’s go.”
“Actually,” Virgil said in annoyance, “we had plans. Maybe you can call ahead next time.”
quirked an eyebrow. Logan’s blood ran cold as J.’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll have to reschedule. He’s my little brother, I’m sure you can find someone else to drag along.”
Virgil scoffed and glanced back at Logan, then stopped. “You’re not really considering this, are you?”
Logan looked between them, helpless. He was terrified of upsetting either of them, but there was no way to please both of them.
“I— I don’t know. J., we had plans,” he said quietly.
“You can reschedule.” J. grabbed Logan’s arm and pulled him closer. “I haven’t seen you in forever, don’t be selfish.”
“You don’t have to do what he wants,” Virgil insisted. His eyes were on J., face scrunched in a glower.
“What’s up with you?” J. asked in frustration. “You’re acting like it’s a crime to take my little brother to dinner. Just lay off, will you?”
He stormed away, dragging Logan behind him. Virgil huffed. His footsteps echoed away.
Please don’t be mad.
Logan forced himself through dinner. The entire night crawled by, full of passive aggressive comments and insults Logan had forgotten how much he hated. He didn’t understand why J. came all the way down here just to ridicule him. Couldn’t he do that over text like he usually did? Didn’t he catch on to why Logan stopped answering?
After J. drove him back to campus, way after nightfall, he grabbed Logan’s arm before he could escape. “We need to talk.”
Logan shoved his hand in his pocket. He flicked the switch, over and over, click-click-click—
“Will you stop playing with that fuckin’ toy? I’m being serious.”
“It calms me down,” Logan mumbled, pulling his hand out. “Sorry.”
“I don’t like Virgil,” he said flatly. “I don’t like how he treats you and honestly he’s fucking rude. You’ve been pulling away. Mom and Dad haven’t heard from you in months. I haven’t heard from you in longer. That’s not fair to us just because you have this new friend.”
Logan stared. What the hell was he supposed to say? I like how Virgil treats me a whole fuckton more than you do. He couldn’t say that. Even if he wanted to, which he wasn’t sure he did.
“I’ll talk to him about it,” he lied.
“Talk to—” J. barked a laugh, “no, ask for a new roommate. I don’t want you talking to him at all anymore, okay?”
Logan swallowed. “He’s my best friend.”
“That’s a problem. He’s not good for you.”
He pulled on the door handle a few times. “Can I go? I get it, I’m sorry.”
“You clearly don’t get it. If you did—”
Logan pulled on the handle a few more times as J. droned on. His body was lighter, his head foggy. He could see himself tugging, tugging, could watch J. getting angrier and barely made out his mouth forming the words ‘stop with the fucking door.’
Then he was outside.
peeled out of the parking lot, tired squeaking over the pavement, and Logan hurried to his dorm.
Virgil paused the T.V. as Logan got inside. He panted, chest heaving. Did he run? He didn’t remember.
“Logan?” Virgil stood. “Hey, what’s going on? What’d he do? Did he say something?” He hurried over.
Logan stumbled through the story. Virgil’s glare deepened with each word, and every time Logan tried to make it better, Virgil just got angrier.
“Stop apologizing,” he snapped. “Come here, you need to sit down.”
He held out his hand, and Logan hesitated, before taking it. As Virgil led him to the bed, Logan focused on the texture— soft and cold. The pad of Virgil’s thumb was pressed against Logan’s palm. He craved more and he wanted to rip his hand away.
Virgil sat Logan down, then took his back back and knelt down. “Where’s your cube?”
Logan shook his head.
Virgil glared. “Did he take it?”
“No! I just— I don’t need it.”
“You clearly do. Come on, have I ever made fun of you for that?”
Logan hesitated, then fumbled to get it out. Click-click-click. Click-clack-click-click.
“Come on, follow my breathing. It’s okay. We’re going to figure this out. You don’t need him. It’s alright.”
Virgil slowly got Logan back in his body. His breathing became his again, and he was reminded of where he was. He gripped the covers, rubbing his fingers over the plush.
“I’m sorry,” he managed. He still panted a little, his head light.
“Sit here. I’m gonna grab some water.”
Virgil came back and sat next to him. He handed Logan the water, who gulped it down. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. Virgil took the glass back, their fingers brushing, and set it on the desk.
“I don’t think you should talk to him anymore.”
Logan flinched.
“I know. I know it’s confusing. It’s your decision. If you want to stay in contact with him for a little longer, I’m not going to hold that against you.”
Logan looked up in surprise. “What? But you want—”
“It’s not my life. I think he’s an asshole and I don’t think he deserves you, but I’m not going to make choices for you. Not these.”
Logan’s eyes watered. He looked away.
Virgil sighed. “You don’t have to do that. I won’t make fun of you.”
He buried his face in his hands as his body shook.
Virgil cleared his throat. “Usually when Patton cries, he wants hugs, I don’t… um… what do you need?”
“What?” Logan’s voice cracked, and Virgil repeated himself. “A blanket?”
Virgil reached around and pulled the blanket around Logan’s shoulders. He whispered “One second,” and rushed over to his bed. He dragged his weighted blanket over and settled that around Logan’s shoulders, too.
Logan got his tears out while Virgil refilled his water. He took it with clammy hands, wiping his nose. “Thank you,” he mumbled.
“You should get some sleep.”
Logan nodded. He started to take off the weighted blanket, but Virgil held his hand up. “It’s alright. Keep it tonight.”
Logan hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.”
He swallowed. “Thank you. I— thank you.”
Virgil smiled awkwardly. “Get some sleep.”
Logan settled into bed as Virgil turned the lights off. He brought the weighted blanket up to his nose, eyelids fluttering closed. It smelled like Virgil. It was warm.
Logan was safe.
xxx
Over the rest of the school year, Logan slowly worked at cutting off his parents and J. Virgil helped him, even through the hiccups. There was a moment Logan thought he could fix things, that he and J. could reconcile— then J. gaslit him and Logan almost switched colleges. Virgil made it clear what J. was doing, and Logan hadn’t spoken to J. since.
The two eventually agreed to get an apartment together after college. Logan got a part time job to keep his mind busy, and he barely had any free time between that and the studying, but he spent most of it with Virgil.
“And how satisfied were you with your roommate this year?” The registrar asked as Logan sat in the oversized armchair.
“Um, he was good. I liked my roommate.”
“Would you like to continue rooming with him next year?”
She barely finished speaking before Logan blurted out a ‘yes.’ She laughed and noted it down. Logan met Virgil outside afterwards, and they headed towards the Junior parking lot.
“You said yes to rooming next year, right?” Virgil asked.
Logan nodded. “Yeah. You?”
“Nah, didn’t feel like it.” He smiled. “‘Course I did. You can’t get rid of me.”
Logan laughed. “What do you want to eat?”
“I think I’m gonna force Janus to buy me a pizza.”
He wrinkled his nose.
Virgil snorted. “What, you don’t want pizza?”
“That pizzeria you like is disgusting.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Come on, we eat there too much. Can’t we get something else?”
Virgil pretended to think about it for a moment, before rolling his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. You can pick this time. I’ll tell Janus and Patton to deal with it.”
Logan grinned. They made it to the parking lot and piled into Janus’ truck. Logan told them what they were eating for dinner, and as Janus headed that way, Virgil nudged Logan with his elbow.
“I’m proud of you,” he murmured.
Patton had turned the radio on. Pop music blared through the speakers, but Logan could hear perfectly with Virgil’s mouth close to his ear. Not enough to touch. Just close.
Logan flushed. “For what?”
“You’ve come a long way this year.”
“But I still—”
“Shh. Not focusing on that right now. I’m proud of you.”
Logan’s stomach filled with butterflies. Virgil pulled away with a grin, then yelled something at Janus, who flicked him off.
Logan settled back with a smile.
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#logan sanders#sanders sides#analogical#virgil sanders#janus sanders#logan centric#logan#virgil#janus#hurt/comfort#angst#angst with a happy ending#fic
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❝devils advocate❞ // k. bakugou
SYNOPSIS: ➛ In a world of guardian angels, somehow, you got stuck with a guardian demon who is too hot for his own good.
» CHARACTER PAIRING: demon!Katsuki Bakugou x human!reader
» WORD COUNT: 5.1K
» GENRE: demon x human au, guardian demon au
» WARNINGS: 16+; mentions of death (non-character related), blood, swearing & fluff
« masterlist || ao3 »
Everyone on earth had a guardian angel. Guardian angels watched out for you, protecting you until it was eventually your time to pass on. You couldn’t see them, but you would meet them twice within your life. First, when you were born - a memory that would always remain as if had been engraved into your soul, and then again when you died. There had never been a recorded case of someone not having a guardian angel, until you. Your parents had taken you to a doctor once they had become aware of it, thinking something was very wrong. However, the doctor quickly deduced that you were either lying or just simply didn’t remember. Because everyone had one, but somehow you didn’t have one.
You were nine years old when Katuki Bakugou saved your life.
You had been walking home from a dinner reservation with your parents, full-bellied, and full of smiles when the unthinkable happened. What was a shadow on the wall, emerged a man who struck down your parents with only a few swift blows. Knocked to the ground, you stared at the puddle of blood slowly making its way towards you, then to the crimson liquid that splattered from the killer’s brutal swing of his blade. It was on your hands, your clothes, everywhere. You don’t remember much of what he had said back then, but you remembered the way the moonlight glinted off his silver blade, as he rose it over his head - his intention to make you his next victim, only for him to never have the chance to even bring the weapon down. The killer just...evaporated into a bloody mist. You remembered how the air around you seemed to tense, the smell of electricity entering your nose as you looked upon this new stranger who had appeared from literally nowhere and had saved your life.
You didn’t know much about guardian angels but you knew they were meant to have wings of white feathers. This...thing didn’t. Instead, his wings were jet black, dark membrane that resembled the wings of a bat, but with razor-sharp a looking talon’s on the top of each wing. They were utter terrifying.
He stared at you for a moment and just watched, his red eyes glowing in the dark alley. Dressed from head to toe in black, it was a stark contrast to his ash blonde hair, but it was his eyes - that crimson gaze that once turned on you, your body had trembled in fear. He had walked towards you, so menacingly that you had scrambled away until your back met the wall of the alleyway.
“P-please, don’t kill me. I’m sorry, p-p-please…” you had cried and begged, your voice weak and quiet. You were just a kid and maybe that was why he had spared you that day. Instead of misting you like he had the other guy. Your eyes moved from him to your parents, still on the floor of the alleyway and you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. A cold hand met your face, turning your head from the sight and made your eyes meet his crimson gaze. His eyes glowed in the darkness whilst also seeming to suck you in as he searched for something. Letting out a scoff at whatever it was he found, he dropped his hand from your face and glared at you.
“No guardian huh?” Your heart stopped inside your chest for the millionth time that night. How had he known? “Listen up kid, from now on you’re under my protection. Nothings going to happen to you. Now get the fuck up,” And so far, he had been true to his word.
Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t an angel, he was a demon. Something you hadn’t realised was real until that day, but if guardian angels were, it made sense that they were too. And for some reason, Katsuki had made it his mission to be your guardian...of sorts. He seemed to step into your life whenever he chose and took advantage of the fact that no one else could see him or hear him, a lot. He was a sarcastic asshole ninety percent of the time, and the other ten percent was when he went lethal and became death incarnate. He revelled in the fact that he was a major pain in the ass and liked to be the vaguest creature on the planet, dodging all your questions about him and demons in general. But over time, you’d gotten somewhat used to it. When you were younger, he was around sparingly, but once you had moved out of your grandparent’s house and into a boarding school, his appearances became more frequent, until he was spending almost every day with you. You both loved it and hated it. He could be nice, but it was rare, and instead had decided to hang around frequently purely to annoy the crap out of you. He would spend a lot of time just hanging out with you in your dorm room doing incredibly mundane things, and acting like he despised every second of it and had better things to do - yet never actually made a move to leave.
And today was no different. You are supposed to be doing your homework as you’ve got exams soon and should really be paying attention as you’re in your final year of high school. Graduation was so close you can almost taste it, and then you wouldn’t have to see anyone from this pompous and obnoxious school ever again. But the weather outside was dreary and the rain and could cover had motivated you not to do school work, but instead to get out your notebook and draw. So you sit at your desk, music playing from your phone, softly flowing through the room as you for the millionth time, trace a familiar shaped eye. You weren’t sure when you had first started drawing Katsuki, but whenever you sat down with something in your hand, purposely to draw - he tended to be the first thing that came out.
A familiar scent of a thunderstorm floods the room and you feel yourself relax in your chair as loud swearing breaks the peaceful quiet.
“Hey idiot, clean up your damn room. You can barely see the fucking floor!” Looking over your shoulder to the blonde, you drop your eyes to the small pile of washing on the floor and roll your eyes. So dramatic. You ignore the remark and turn back to your drawing, not caring if he sees what you’re doing - he was already past the point of teasing you and now just critiques your work. “I ain’t fucking ugly!’ was his favourite retort about your drawings. You hear Katsuki walk over towards you, looking over your shoulder to the sketchbook on your desk, and then shifting to the unfinished homework in the corner. He scoffs at your antics, but can’t be surprised as you handing in uncompleted homework is a common thing at this school. You weren’t exactly the star pupil.
“Do your fucking homework y/n.” he badgers you. He constantly nags you over the most trivial things, like making sure you’re eating, getting out of bed on days when you just want to sleep through the whole day. For someone who can strike the fear of death into the hearts of grown-ass men, he sure acts like a mother hen a lot of the time.
“It’s just math stuff… I’ll do it later. And besides, my teacher has it out for me I swear.” You defend, but he just scoffs like he doesn’t believe you and sits on the edge of your bed. It’s then that you notice the plastic bag in his hands. Raising your eyebrows, spin your chair towards him, and hold out your hands.
“What did you get this time?” You ask, giddy at the surprise dinner that happens most nights because you don’t want to face your classmates in the communal kitchen.
“Wouldn’t you like to know. You ain’t getting any idiot until you fucking start your homework.” Katsuki growls, pulling a plastic bowl from the bag and the smell of Italian food makes your stomach rumble. You glare at the blonde, knowing well how this is going to play out.
“You would deny me sustenance that I need to make my brain work out of pure spite?” You ask. The demon’s eyes swirl with amusement and you know that you’re winning.
“Don’t you use that fucking pity card with me.” He says, standing up to his full height and placing the bowl on your desk. “Eat, then do your fucking work idiot,” Katsuki grumbles, giving in easily before falling back onto your bed and opening his own food. You grab the plastic utensils and practically dive into the ravioli. The creamy flavour bursting on your tongue if so rich you groan.
“Where did you get this?” You ask, and the look Katsuki gives you - you can basically hear his response in your own mind. Where do you think I got it, idiot? With his ability to slip into shadows, your guardian demon also has a knack for travelling to other sides of the world in seconds, just for food. You have knickknacks from around the world in your dorm room from when he travels and you convince him to buy you something small. He’s got a dark sense of humour, so a lot of the things can be kinda creepy or just plain stupid, but you don’t mind. The fact that he brings you something is enough. You had a feeling he had once again, slipped into shadows and gotten tonight's dinner freshly from the homeland of pasta, and you wonder if he somehow knew you were craving Italian food.
You both eat in silence before something on your desk catches Katsuki’s eye, and he can’t help but open his mouth.
“What the hell is that?” you follow his gaze to the partially scrunched up flyer sitting on top of your school books and sigh.
“A flyer for the school dance on Friday.” You say, shoving ravioli into your mouth so you don’t have to keep talking about it. You don’t really have a lot of friends, its a fact that you’re not embarrassed about. It was just the fact that you didn’t have a guardian angel had gotten you teased when you were younger, and add on top of that what happened to your parents - people thought you were bad luck and tended to stay far from you. But today, something had changed.
“And you’re going to go to that fuck fest?” Your food gets caught in your throat and you momentarily choke from his words. He has no filter. Your eyes water as you drink from your water bottle, you look at Katsuki whos watching you with his regular frown. Not even concerned in the slightest that you were just choking.
“No, I don’t think so…” You manage to get out, putting the lid back on your now-empty food bowl and pushing it to the corner of your desk. You can feel his glare at the back of your head as you hesitate to grab your books, but like usual, the demon wins and you grab your homework. You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking at you. Him and his stupid smug face. Opening your books, you let out a sigh at the work. Katsuki has an unnerving ability to see straight through you, so you’re not surprised when he suddenly snaps at you.
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘i don’t think so’?” he growls and you just shrug.
“I was asked.” You suddenly blurt out, your cheeks pink as you recall the awkward conversation earlier that day between you and a guy in your class. Because you didn’t really have a lot of friends at school, when you were asked by one of the most attractive guys in your grade, to say you were surprised was an understatement.
The demon just blinks at you, shock actually evident on his face, which is a first. He hides a lot of his emotions from you, basically everything other than anger and annoyance, and somewhat amusement.
“Someone asked you?” Katsuki grumbles, and something in his tone annoys you. He says it as if the thought of someone asking you was so unthinkable, and that hurt. Turning towards him, you give him a proper glare that has him stilling - not out fear because you’re you, and he is a demon - but just interest. He knows he’s annoyed you, it’s something he does a lot - but this time he’s properly pissed you off.
“Is that so hard to imagine?” you snarl at the blonde. If he’s taken back by your pissed off tone, he doesn’t let it show.
“Didn’t mean it like that idiot. I only meant that you don’t really hang out with a lot of people.” He was digging himself a deeper hole. “And why the fuck would you want to go anyways? I don’t.”
“That’s because you’re a demon and ‘mundane shit is beneath you,’” you quote the words he has used against you multiple times before. You don’t give him a chance to respond before you go off again. “And I want to go because I feel like I’m missing out on some big thing in the whole ‘high school experience’ if I don’t. I didn’t get the stereotypical school adventure that other people seem to get. I didn’t go to parties or sports events. So I’m going to this dance because someone asked me, and if you’ve got a problem with that you can leave.” You’re breathing hard when you finish, glaring with everything in you at him. He simply scoffs at you and gets up from your bed.
“Whatever. Go to the fucking dance, I’ve got shit to do.” for a moment your heart lurches in your chest as he moves away from you and towards the door as if he’s actually going to use it. The thought of him leaving always makes you feel uneasy for reasons you can’t really explain, maybe you’ve just got some weird separation anxiety from him seeing as he’s always around.
“Katsuki-” His eyes are on yours as he steps into a shadow and then he’s gone. You let out a sigh and turn back to your desk, looking at your drawing book still open, his eyes in monochrome staring back at you. You close the book harshly and lean back on your chair.
Why is he such an asshole?
❀ ❀ ❀
Friday comes around quickly but doesn’t go the way you were expecting it to. The dance begins at seven, yet here you are at half-past, sitting on your bed. You’d scrambled to find a dress and even put on makeup, and it was all for fucking nothing.
Because you have been stood up. The whole thing was a damned joke, he never wanted to take you. You’re eyes sting and you quickly sniff - no I will not let this mediocre, insignificant guy ruin my damn makeup! you coach yourself, trying not to let it hurt as much as it does. You reach up to rub your nose until suddenly, striding out of nowhere like he owns the place, Katsuki appears in your room. You hadn’t seen him since he walked out on you two days ago. At first, you were pissed because you were his friend and he was being petty. But then, you’d missed him, a lot. You’d missed him lecturing you on your untidy room, you’d missed him when you had to walk to the food court for dinner, you had missed his smug face when he would catch you looking at him when you were reading and he was sitting doing god knows what. You had just missed his presence a lot, and that made you realise that you really liked this demon that had come into your life in the worst of times, yet somehow made it a whole lot better.
You’re about to question what the heck he’s doing here when he stops in his spot and looks over you. The red dress a now waste of money, along with the heels on your feet. It was all for nothing.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at some dance right now?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous as he slowly puts things together. He probably already knows what’s happened just by looking at you, he’s too intelligent not to.
“I got stood up.” You explain embarrassed. You should have listened to Katsuki when he said it was a bad idea. Something deadly flickers to life in his vermilion gaze, and he suddenly spins, stalking for the door with a lithe swiftness that you know means he’s about to go and cause someone grievous bodily harm. Nope nope nope, that’s not happening.
“It’s fine, Katsuki. Really.” Your words make him stop in his spot, and he turns half towards you, searching your face. “It was stupid to want to go anyways. You were right, it was a waste.”
“No it’s fucking not.” He hisses, pure rage radiating off him pulses. Closing his eyes, he lets out a sharp breath where you could have sworn you actually saw steam come from his nose. But then he looks you over once more, taking in the rare appearance of you in a dress. Thinking back on it, there’s a high chance that he’s never seen you in one, as you normally opt for shorts or jeans.
“Fuck this.” Katsuki sighs. He snaps his fingers and in the blink of an eye, his jeans and tee shirt are swapped for slacks and a button-up. Still pitch black in classic Katsuki fashion and his hair is still a mess but he’s dressed up and you can’t help but admit that he looks really handsome. You stare at him, processing the action for a moment. He looks so different. His wings are gone, you didn’t even know he could do that, heck you didn’t know he could snap his fingers and bam! If you didn’t already know he was a demon and you wanted to die, you’d tease him about how fairy-like that was. But again, you value your life.
It’s odd though, to see him without his wings. He almost looks like a regular person, but there is something about him, that makes him look like something more than human. Maybe it’s the sharp jaw or the piercing eyes, you weren’t sure - but there’s something other-worldly that he couldn’t seem to contain.
“Get off your ass.” His voice interrupts your thoughts, and you stare at him as he stands with his hand on the door handle holding it open. Shifting your gaze between the open doorway and him, you glance up at his face and at his serious expression. He’s not joking, he’s going to the dance. For you, with you, so you can go and won’t be alone.
You can’t contain your smile as you stand up and practically skip to the doorway. Happiness bubbling inside you and you want to grin, but for his sake, you calm it down and settle on a small smile. He rolls his eyes and offers you his arm. He’s full of surprises tonight, you think as you take it.
He doesn’t make a single grumble or comment as you head to the school gymnasium, and you hold your tongue as he hands the person at the door two tickets. How the hell did he even get those? The student collecting tickets eyes you both as you walk inside. It’s so cringe and everything you pictured it would be, and you can’t help but grin. Streamers dangle from the roof, white table cloths and balloons cover the tables, dim lighting and somewhat loud music - its perfect. You look to Katsuki who is eyeing your smile with raised eyebrows. I can’t believe you like this shit, he seems to say, but from the small smile on his face you know he’s amused by you.
“Come on idiot, let’s go.” As you walk through the throngs of people towards a table, you feel their eyes sticking to you like glue, shocked to see you here. And it’s then that you realise that other people can see him - you didn’t even know that was possible.
“I didn’t know you could make yourself be seen by people.” You mutter to him. Katsuki scoffs at you and gives you his typical ‘you’re an idiot’ expression.
“Of course I can, how the fuck do you think I saved your life dumbass?” He says, mentioning when you had first met and he… Okay, that makes sense. But he’s never done this before, he’s never let himself be seen by other people, he’s never changed his appearance like this either… You come to the realisation just how big of a deal this is for him, and you squeeze his arm in thanks. He flexes his arm under your touch and you know that’s his version of telling you it wasn’t a big deal.
You two spend the rest of the night laughing as Katsuki rips into other people and making up random crap about them just to make you laugh. His attempt to cheer you up isn’t missed by you, and you’re so grateful that he’s trying. People glance at you both every so often, wondering just who he is, but no one has approached to ask - however, that’s most likely due to the vicious glare that Katsuki drills into anyone that comes too close to your table. But you’re thankful for the fact that its just the two of you.
The music switches to something slow and you can’t help but eye the people coupling off in the middle of the gymnasium floor. Looking quickly at Katsuki who looks too good to be true in the blue lighting, you suck in a breath and prepare yourself. Ignoring the sudden nervous rollercoaster-worthy butterflies springing to life in your stomach, you stand from your chair and shove your hand towards your guardian demon.
“Dance with me.” You try to say with confidence. Katsuki’s lips tick up ever so slightly at your lame attempt of assurance.
“I ain’t dancing with you, idiot.” He says, leaning back in his chair and pretending to get comfortable. Maybe if you didn’t know him any better you would have thought he was serious, and that dancing was his limit. But you had known Katsuki for years and spent more time with him then you had with anyone ever. You knew him, and he knew you. And you knew that although it would probably earn you grumbling, groaning and eternal complaints, he would do it.
“Please…” With an over-dramatic groan, Katsuki raises from his chair and takes your hand. Your cheeks instantly warm at the contact, and your heart jumps to your throat as he leads you from the table. It’s not the first time he’s touched you, he’s held you before on sleepless nights where you’ve woken up from nightmares of your parents and sat with you tucked into his side until you can determine what’s real and what’s not. But this time, it’s different; you realise you want him to hold your hand. You want him to tuck you into his chest and hold you - and you want him to want too as well. He guides you out to the crowd of people and walks you right to the middle before placing his warm hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. Your arms brace yourself on his chest as you crash into him, and he grins wildly at your blushing face.
You sway side to side, ignoring everyone else in the room as you look up to him. Not in a million years did you ever think you would find yourself here, but it was harder to wrap your head around the fact that it was with Katsuki, the demon that had taken it upon himself to look out for you.
“Why are you doing this for me?” You have to ask. You have to know if he feels the same way as you. Because if he doesn’t then you’ve got to draw some sort of lines, because your heart won’t be able to take it - no matter how much it will hurt to separate yourself from him.
His vermillion eyes stare into yours, and you feel yourself being slightly sucked in. He had told you at first that it was a demon thing, but maybe it’s just a Katsuki thing. They glinted like rubies when the lights hit them, and as much as he would hate you saying it - he was very pretty.
“Because I didn’t want you to miss out on something that obviously meant so much to you dumbass.” Alright, that was a logical answer. But there was something more than he was withholding from you, you knew it.
“Please…” the whisper left your mouth, and if he didn’t have enhanced hearing, you knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Tearing his gaze from you, your eyes settled on his throat just in time to see him swallow nervously. Surely not. You couldn’t even remember a time when you had ever seen him anything other than confident.
“When I first found you, I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. Something pulled me to that alleyway that night and I still don’t know what or why. Once I saw what was going on, I was going to leave you there.” his admission rocks you, and instinctively try to step back, but his arms tighten around you - locking you in place and keeping you close to him. “And then I saw your parents, and you on the floor and I had to do something.” He sighs, hanging his head slightly so you can hear him better. “There are laws, even for my kind, that we have to follow. And that day, I broke a lot of them - and have continued to do so every day since then.” He says, his explanation surprising you. He doesn’t really talk about his private life, and or what really goes on with demons. So him even telling you this, its a lot. He moves slightly, now looking into your eyes with complete severity and something else in his gaze that traps the air inside your lungs.
“I can’t explain what I’m doing, because I don’t even fucking know. But I know one thing, and that’s the fact I want to be around you all the damn time, and if I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you and it drives me fucking crazy.” his hands tighten on your hips as if trying to tether you to this moment for as long as he can. Because with his revelations, your brain is threatening to float away but you force yourself to stay grounded to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so long.
“All I want is you, dumbass.” Holy shit. Katsuki is smiling softly down at you, and you honestly can’t believe what’s currently happening, but you honestly know if you don’t kiss him now you will spontaneously combust.
You don’t even give him a chance to breathe before you grab his cheeks, raising on your toes and crush his lips to yours. You feel him tense beneath your hands and for a split second, you think shitshitshitshit and try to pull away. Then in a movement too fast to be natural, a hand moves to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and proceeding to make your legs turn into noodles. You should probably care that you’re in the middle of a high school dance right now, but you can’t bring yourself to. All you care about is the demon currently stealing the breath from your lungs and making butterflies swarm your stomach in a mad panic. Your lips separate by just a few inches, and you finally breathe again, unsure as to if you’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen or the kiss, but you have a feeling its both. The smug smile that tugs at Katsuki’s mouth make you think its probably the latter.
“Um, I...” You want to say something other than that, but your brain and mouth are no longer working together, so you momentarily stand there like a moron, which makes the guy in front of you smug as hell.
“If I knew that’s what it took to shut you up, I would have done that a long time ago.” Katsuki grins another feral smile and you can’t stop the laughter that bubbles from your lips. Your face floods with embarrassment over your lack of motor skills and you lean your forehead against his chest. The sound of his pounding heart makes you grin too, knowing that you’re not the only one affected by this new massive thing in your life. Katsuki’s hand brushes your head softly and you close your eyes, just letting yourself sway along with him to the music. You realise that the argument you had earlier in the week wasn’t about the dance, but someone taking you to the dance… and of course, he couldn’t come to that conclusion and asked you himself because he’s too stubborn and is a demon… He’s a demon, the reality jumps around your brain, and you try to find the problem with the statement, but you can’t. Not when he is who he is.
“This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?” You ask against his chest.
“I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not going to be easy. There’s so much I need to tell you,” Looking up at him, he lets you see the insecurity surrounding your response, something he wouldn’t let anyone normally see. Did he honestly think that you were going to leave now? After all of that?
“Nothing in my life has ever really been easy,” you point out, unable to hide your smile once again. “So I’m not surprised that anything surrounding you would be anything but.” Any hesitation he had is gone as he leans his forehead against yours, a sigh slipping from his lips. You can’t hold the words in, and for once, they come out with such conviction, it leaves no room for doubt.
“I love you Katsuki,” His eyes are closed, but his smile is wide, and you can see the happiness in his features.
“Thank you y/n.” Unsure as to why exactly he’s thanking you, you tighten your arms around him and this time he places a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you too, y/n.” You revel in the words, closing your eyes and swaying along to the music.
Katsuki Bakugou was a demon who had saved your life when you were nine years old, and you were stupidly, irrevocably in love with him, and that would never change.
©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.
#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x read#katsuki bakugou fluff#bakugou katsuki fluff#katsuki bakugou fanfic#bakugou katsuki fanfic#bakugou fanfiction#katsuki fanfic#katsuki bakugou x you#bakugou katsuki x you#katsuki x you#bakugou x you#mha imagines#katsuki bakugou imagines#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#boku no hero x reader#boku no hero imagines#my hero academia fanfic#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha fluff#bnha fluff
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Sketchbooks and Soccer Players- Kim Sunwoo
Genre: Fluff with mild cursing, Soccerplayer!Sunwoo / Artist!Y/N (gender neutral), Slight couple Moonbae because why not
Word Count: 2263
REQUESTED
"Y/N!" You hear someone shout, causing you to jump up slightly and release the pencil that was in your hand. "I've been calling your name for like five minutes! You know I can't go inside the art room without Mrs. Park's permission."
"Sorry, Kev, I guess I got too wrapped up in my piece," You chuckle, quickly closing your sketchbook and packing up your things so he wouldn't have to wait on you any longer. Tossing your bag over your shoulder, you jog up to Kevin and greet him.
"How was your day?" You ask, taking out the lollipop you had stored in your pocket and unwrapping it before placing it in your mouth.
"Raspberry this time?" He asks. "Also, today was okay before I shouted at my best friend so we could go home, but they ignored me and proceeded to doodle in their notebook. Let me just tell you, it made me feel like I was as worthless as the p in raspberry. What were you drawing that had you so engrossed, anyway?"
Kevin pushed the school doors, and you made your way to his car as you recounted how much of a luxury it was that your best friend was also your neighbor.
"You know, just someone," You mumble, putting on your seatbelt.
"Someone? You don't normally draw people. Is your obsession with Lee Dongwook getting so extreme that you started drawing him?" Kevin giggles, thinking back to your avid Viki sessions of watching Goblin and Tale of the Nine-Tailed together.
"No, I'm not that weird," You laugh, lightly shoving him to the side.
"So, who is it?"
Your mind drifts back to yesterday, the day of the encounter. Sceneries: Forests, mountains, valleys. That was more of your expertise when it came to art, however, nothing was as scenic as the boy you met yesterday.
Kim Sunwoo. Everyone knew him. Everyone wanted to date or be him, there was no in-between. You didn't think much about the kid before because your paths never clashed, not until yesterday.
"Woah, I'm so sorry!" He said, his chest heaving from running from the direction of the soccer field.
"Oh, you're fine!" You replied, picking up your sketchbook that fell out of your hands. You were just about to enter the art room, the safe haven where you would draw until Kevin was done with choir practice.
"Y/N, right?" Sunwoo asked. You couldn't help but remember the shocked look on your face when he knew who you were.
"Yeah, Y/N," You replied.
"Y/N," He had repeated, this time with a small smile on his face. It was the most beautiful way you had ever heard your name said, to a point where you swore you heard it echoing in your head right now.
"Y/N."
"Y/N."
“Y/N, we're here you weirdo, snap out of it," Kevin shrieked, smacking your arm to get you out of your daze.
"Oh shit," You mumbled, realizing that you were no longer in the school parking lot and instead at your house.
"You zoned out for like ten minutes after I asked you who you were drawing. Is everything okay? Are the paint fumes getting to your head?" He mocked.
"No, just thinking. Anyway, you were right earlier. I wanted to try drawing people, so I was like go big or go home and started sketching Dongwook's face today," You reason. No one needed to know that the only thing running through your head was Kim Sunwoo on repeat, even when you saw him passing by the art room once again.
And that's how the next week passed. You continued your sketch of Sunwoo, trying your best to remember exactly what his face looked like up close. However, he continued to pass by the art room every day, just close enough for you to recognize the familiar tan skin and soccer uniform. Though you never made eye contact with him, you knew when he passed by, your eyes catching the movement across the room every time.
"Aish," You groaned out, erasing his eyes for what felt like the fifteenth time that afternoon.
"Everything alright in there?" You heard a familiar voice say, causing you to look up from the drawing. Upon seeing his face, you immediately close your sketchbook.
"Sunwoo!" You exclaim, half in fear and half in genuine excitement.
"The one and only," He laughs. "I heard you from outside, are you okay?"
There was worry in Sunwoo's voice, causing your heart to clench. "Yeah, I just suck at drawing," You chuckle.
"Oh, I doubt that. You're always in here, so there must be some artistic bone in your body," He reassures you.
You sit there in silence for a moment before Sunwoo's eyes widen, and he begins to shake his head from side to side. "Not that- not that I've been watching you or anything, I just like to pass by the art room now cause I always see you in here. Wait, that sounds weird. I don't just come to see you, but you're just always working really hard, and it's really admirable to see you and you look really nice when you draw. Not that you don't look nice any other time! But also the only time I've ever really seen you is in the art room, so I guess I really don't know what you look like any other time. Not that I wouldn't be opposed to it! I just-" Sunwoo heaves, letting out a heavy sigh before standing there with his head in his hands.
"Sunwoo, calm down!" You giggle. "I mean, I noticed that you were passing by too, and I glance every time whether you notice it or not. The soccer uniform really suits you," You compliment. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, his sudden outburst making you want to laugh and cry at the same time.
"Oh, this?" He says, looking down at his jersey. "This is nothing, I would much rather be good at art than soccer."
"You? You're not just good at soccer, you're freaking great. I mean, you've been on varsity since freshman year," You exasperate. A small smile breaks out on Sunwoo's face once he hears a small fact of his life slip from your mouth.
"Oh shit, speaking of soccer," Sunwoo mumbles, glancing at the clock that was inside the art teacher's room. "I gotta go. I forgot that break was only five minutes. It was really fun talking to you Y/N. Good luck with your drawing!"
Before you could even say goodbye back, he ran back to the direction he came from.
"Was that Kim Sunwoo?" Kevin says, appearing in front of the doorway from out of nowhere.
"Don't ask," You breathe out, still breathless from the interaction you just had. "Did choir practice end early today?"
"Yeah, you know Jacob Bae?"
"Brown hair, super cute, part of the basketball team?" You ask, wondering if he was talking about the same guy that was in your calculus class. As you await his answer, you pack up your supplies for the day, leaving the portrait of Sunwoo incomplete for yet another day.
"Super cute? That man is like jacked. I fell in love with him as soon as he walked into the room. Anyways, apparently, the choir teacher has been trying to recruit him for like two years, and he finally came by to audition. Mr. Lee kicked us out right away and told us we were done for the day.”
"Oh my god, I hope he joins! Maybe you could finally get a boyfriend," You tease, making your way towards Kevin's car.
"Yeah, well, you aren't much better, sketching Dongwook’s face for the past two weeks."
"Right, Dongwook," You mutter.
It was truly ironic that the amount of time Kevin thought you were thinking about the famous Korean actor, Lee Dongwook, was actually devoted to Sunwoo. Even after talking to him daily when he passed by the art room, you were still just as enamored by him.
"Long time no see," Sunwoo smiles, swinging his body across the doorframe.
"You're right," You look up to see the familiar face that you had quickly grown to love. "It's been a very long 24 hours."
“And how is my favorite artist doing?” Sunwoo asks, making his way over to you. You admire the soccer player, slight sweat beading against his forehead, and his face flushed from the heat outside.
“You know, you’re not supposed to be in here without Mrs. Park’s permission,” You say, knowing that if the teacher found him in here, he would get in trouble. You wait for a witty response back, but you soon find Sunwoo squinting past your shoulder and looking at something.
"I- Is that me?" Sunwoo whispers.
Your head whips back to the sketchbook that you had forgotten to close, Sunwoo’s half-colored face on display for him to see. You shoot up from your chair, hoping that you could somehow fix this, but as you stand up, Sunwoo takes a seat next to the drawing, moving the sketchbook closer so he could examine it.
"I mean," You strain, wanting to burst into tears right then and there. You were finally getting to know Sunwoo and becoming friends with him, and now he was going to think you were a creep, an absolute loser. "I mean yes, but it's not done yet. I still have to color like half your face. Don't be weirded out, please. I don't really draw people, but when I saw you, I thought I just had to. I'm sorry if you think it's weird, I'll scrap it. I promise," You ramble.
You glance at Sunwoo from the corner of your eye, but he continues to look at the sketch you made of him. You couldn't tell how he felt from his reaction, the only expression he was making was a look of ponderance.
"I- You know what," You begin to say, getting up from your seat and reaching for the sketchbook. You pull at the perforation of the page, beginning to tear it out. "I'll actually just get rid of it. It's weird, and I'm really sorry-"
Sunwoo grabs your hand before you can tear it off completely, an exclamation leaving his mouth. "No!"
"What?" You whisper underneath your breath.
"I love it. You're really talented Y/N," He looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes. A soft smile played on his lips.
"But, isn't it weird?" You ask, confusion laced in your words.
"I mean, I passed by the art room every day for three weeks just so I could look at you for a little bit. Every time I passed by, I debated with myself on whether or not I should ask you out. If anyone's the weird one, it's me," He confesses.
The room is silent for a few more seconds, your brain whirring at what felt like a million miles per hour.
“I didn’t think anyone saw me like this,” Sunwoo says, a soft smile on his face as he traces his drawn eyes with his fingers.
“What do you mean?” You whisper. “Everyone sees you like that.”
“Not like,” Sunwoo breaths out, his eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Not like this.”
“Do you think, I don’t know, maybe you’d wanna see me outside of this place? Cause I really fucking like you, and I hope you do too considering you drew me like I hung the stars in the sky,” Sunwoo says, turning to face you.
You break out into a wide smile, relief flushing through you.
“Silly, you couldn’t have hung the stars in the sky,” You sigh, reaching down and brushing the hair that was covering his eyes out of the way. “They’re all in your eyes.”
Sunwoo lets out a breathy laugh at the cheesy line before closing the sketchbook and placing it underneath his arm. No matter how hard he denied it though, a light blush littered his cheeks.
“C’mon, we’re skipping soccer practice,” Sunwoo holds onto your hand and drags you out of the room while you struggle to get your backpack and throw it over your shoulder in time.
“Sunwoo!” You laugh, trailing behind him as he pulled you all the way outside of the school and to your first unofficial, official date.
The local art museum.
-
“What the fuck?” Kevin mutters, finding an empty art room with colored pencils scattered where you would usually sit.
“Maybe they were drawing so hard that they turned into the colored pencils,” Jacob says, peeking into the room.
“They probably went out with Sunwoo, I had a feeling something was up with them anyway. They tried to convince me they were drawing Dongwook from Goblin, but I don’t think they know that I look at their sketchbook when they get snacks at their house,” Kevin shrugs.
“Dongwook? What an attractive man,” Jacob mumbles, staring into space.
“But not as hot as me, right?” Kevin jokes, turning back around to leave. He was excited to introduce you to Jacob, but it seems like there was something else on fate’s agenda.
“Oh, never. Actually, since Y/N is busy with their lover, want to go to this coffee place I really like? It’s on me,” Jacob says, throwing a wink in Kevin's direction.
“What? No, I couldn’t do that,” Kevin refuses, a blush overtaking his face.
“Nonsense, it’s a date,” Jacob affirms, dragging Kevin out of the very doors Sunwoo pulled Y/N earlier.
a/n i had too much fun with this... and can u tell i love lee dongwook, because i do.
#deobiwritersnet#sunwoofluff#theboyzfluff#tbzfluff#sunwoofluffblurb#sunwoofluffoneshot#sunwoofluffimagine#sunwooblurb#sunwoooneshot#sunwooimagine#theboyz#theboyzfluffoneshot#theboyzfluffimagine#theboyzfluffblurb#theboyzoneshot#theboyzblurb#theboyzimagine#tbz#tbzfluffblurb#tbzfluffimagine#tbzfluffoneshot#tbzoneshot#tbzimagine#tbzblurb
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