Multifandom One-shots

58. Colorful Chaos - Porter x reader (Monster High)

In the secret hideout where Porter and I had retreated, I was immersed in a private painting lesson. However, frustration gnawed at me as I struggled to create something meaningful on my canvas.

Peering through the lenses of my glasses, I squinted at the mess of colors before me, feeling utterly disheartened by my lack of progress. Whatever I attempted to paint looked like a mess, and slowly but surely, doubt crept into my mind. I began to consider giving up on painting altogether. Like so many things I've tried and failed at first, I just wanted to give up.

"Oh, this is never going to work!" I exclaimed, frustration boiling over as I threw my hands up in the air, small droplets of paint splattering onto the stone floor. "I just can't seem to get it right," I muttered, my voice tinged with frustration as I adjusted the frames of my glasses, trying to get a clearer view of the crooked painting.

Porter watched me with concern as he floated closer, his presence offering comfort in the dimly lit hideout. "It's okay, Y/N," he said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Art is about expression, not perfection. You'll find your rhythm, I promise."

I glanced up at him, my lips forming a slight pout as I scrunched my nose ever so subtly. "Are you certain?" I inquired, exhaling softly, unintentionally resembling a squirrel as I puffed out my cheeks.

"Yes, I'm sure," he reassured, his arm enveloping my waist gently and giving me a tender squeeze. "I believe in you. Come on, you excel at everything you put your mind to, even if it requires a bit of practice."

Gratitude and a flicker of hope in my eyes as his words struck a chord within me. "Thank you..." I muttered before taking a deep breath. I wiped my hands on a nearby cloth and squared my shoulders, ready to try again. With Porter's patient guidance, I pushed my glasses back up my nose and picked up the paintbrush once more, determined to push past my doubts and fears.

As I hesitated, unsure of where to begin, Porter reached out and gently took my hand in his own. With a reassuring smile, he guided my hand, helping me create a smooth and steady line on the canvas.

Close together, I could feel the warmth of Porter's presence, his ghostly form exuding a comforting aura. As we focused on our painting, I found myself distracted by the sensation of Porter's head being so close, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down my spine.

Taking a deep breath, I focused on the task at hand, pushing aside the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. This wasn't the time to get lost in thoughts of romance. I had a painting to complete, and Porter was here to help me.

With Porter's patient guidance, I began to feel more confident with each stroke of the brush. His gentle touch and reassuring words bolstered my determination, and soon, the crooked lines on the canvas began to straighten out.

With Porter's support, I felt a renewed sense of purpose and creativity coursing through me. Together, we transformed the chaotic mess of colors into something beautiful, a true reflection of our partnership and friendship.

And as the final brushstroke fell into place, I stepped back to admire our work, a smile spreading across my face. It wasn't perfect, but it was ours—a testament to our perseverance and determination.

Turning to Porter, I met his gaze with gratitude and affection. "Thank you," I said softly, my voice filled with sincerity. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Porter smiled back, his eyes twinkling with pride. "You did amazing, Y/N," he replied, his voice warm with admiration.

As Porter and I basked in the satisfaction of our completed painting, a mischievous twinkle sparked in his eyes. Without warning, he dipped his fingers into a nearby jar of paint and flicked a droplet of vibrant blue in my direction.