Demigod X Reader Oneshots

Frank x reader|| woe is you.

You sat there.
In rehab.
Not saying, not doing anything.
Just simply existing.
You didn't care about anything anymore, heroin had taken over your life.
And then your friends, they went behind your back and took you to a rehab centre, for the addicted and mentally ill.
To say the least, you were fucking pissed.
"So.." The instructor said.
"Let's go around and say our names, and also why we're here."
Everyone nodded, but you just tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie.
When it came your turn you cleared your throat.
"I'm uh y/n, and I'm here cuz I'm addicted." You looked down.
"To what?" A boy to you right asked.
You shot him a look.
"Heroin."
The instructor nodded.
"Why?" He asked.
You didn't have to think, you knew exactly why you started using, and exactly why you couldn't stop.
"Because it stopped my panic attacks, instead of being some scared; anxious, pathetic chick who stood in the corner sketching, I was a fearless motherfucker who wasn't scared to do anything."
You said proudly, knowing you shouldn't be proud in the slightest.
"I don't even care about art anymore." You continued.
"Or anything really."
You knew you were lying, art was the one thing that made you passionate.
You were skilled, even you could admit that.
But when you started using, you tended to forget about art.
It was time for the boy on your right to speak up.
"I'm Frank."
He sighed.
"And im here because I tried to kill myself."
You exhaled through your nose slowly.
The instructor didn't ask why.
You were told to go to your rooms, and meet your roommate.
You walked down the long, narrow hallways until your eyes saw the number that was the same as the sheet in you hand.
You walked in and looked for your luggage, just a small denim backpack.
Containing your art supplies.
"Wait what?" You said confusedly, it wasn't there.
~time skip~
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CANT HAVE ART?!" You screamed at the employee.
"You don't understand, my art is the only thing keeping me sane. Keeping me alive!"
"I'm sorry but you can't have any sharp objects with you at the facility."
You ran your hands through your hair and leaned against the wall.
"WELL IF YOU BELIEVE IM GOING TO USE YOUR DULL AS CRAYONS YOUR SORELY MISTAKEN."
She left and you collapsed onto your bed and screamed as loud as possible into the pillow.
You heard someone clear their throat, and you eyes trailed to the doorway.
Frank, stood there holding a small denim bag.
"H-how'd you get that?"
He smiled, but didn't say anything.
And then, he just left.
You took the bag and stuffed it under your bed.
The first thing you were going to draw was him.
Because, you didn't want to forget Frank.

Hey guys!
What'd ya think?
Leave your comments in the comment section! (No shit dumbass where else would they go OMIGOD I can be dumb)
If you actually read these you get 100 awesome points.
Keep collecting awesome pints for shoutouts maybe!