Crush/Boyfriend Imagines

Sit Still

Sighing again, I erased the same line I'd drawn at least 300 times now.
"C/n!" I almost shouted, exasperated.
"What?!" C/n asked, startled by my outburst since it'd been quiet in my room for awhile now.
"Can you please sit still? I've been trying to draw your jaw and ear for the past, like, 30 minutes and every time I think I've got it down or am close to getting it down, you squirm and I have to start all over again!"
"Sorry, y/n! It's just hard to sit in this position for so looonnggg," he said, dragging out the last word.
I let out a frustrated growl and he smirked.
"Well, what position do you prefer?" I rubbed my temples in frustration.
I swear, I loved this boy but he sure knew how to test my patience.
"Mm, missionary, to be honest," he shrugged, his face devoid of emotion like it always was right before he cracked up at his own joke.
"Ugghh, fuck you!" I whacked him in the arm with my sketchpad, his shoulders shaking as he roared with laughter.
He could be so immature sometimes. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't love his immature sense of humor.
"I wish you would," he smirked, eyes shining with mirth.
"It's a good thing you're cute," I grumbled, crossing my arms and glaring at him.
"Why?" He asked, sporting a shit-eating grin.
"Because if you weren't I'd be using this pencil to stab you, instead of using it to draw your stupid cute face."
"Oh my god, am I your muse?" He asked dramatically
"No, you're my pain in the ass," I rolled my eyes.
He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically, "She called me her pain in the ass."
"Alright, Romeo, calm down. Now can you please sit still?"
"Only if I can sit on the floor, cross-legged," he said, smoothing his clothes.
"Anything to get you to sit still," I said, moving off the chair I was sitting on, to plop myself on my floor.
He stepped off the stool I'd sat him in originally and sat cross-legged in front of me. He turned his head to the side like he'd had it before, clenching his jaw.
I dragged my eyes away from the delicious site of his side profile to sketch it more accurately. A few minutes had passed, the only sound in the room was some relaxing music I'd put on low, the sound of lead scratching over paper, and our soft breaths. I had moved on to drawing c/n's broad shoulders, trying to get the shading and outline right when c/n's voice broke the silence.
"I never asked you what your project was for, y/n."
I almost dropped my pencil, leaving a crooked line that I quickly erased.
"It's a drawing project," I said, trying to avoid answering truthfully.
"No shit, Sherlock," out of the corner of my eyes I could see a smirk on his face before he went back to talking. "I mean, why'd you pick me for it? Every assignment you've gotten so far in your drawing class has come with some prompt. Some reason behind why you're drawing the thing."
I pretended not to hear him, pretended I was too engrossed in shading the wrinkles of his loose hoodie.
"Y/nnn," he dragged out my name in a taunting way.
My cheeks heated up and I bit my lip. There was no way he was going to drop the subject. He knew when he was getting under my skin.
I huffed before mumbling, "I'm supposed to draw someone...that–umm–that..."
"That?" He asked, his voice gentle, coaxing me.
"That I–basically a person–well someone...someoneIadmire," I blurted, the words coming out slurred into one.
I had finished drawing his hoodie and realized that the line of his upper lip hadn't come out right. Trying to distract myself from the fact I'd basically revealed my true feelings for him, I looked up to study his lips only to find his wide eyes staring back at me.
"I have to get your lips right," I said, my voice sounding strained.
Feeling awkward under his unwavering stare, I cleared my throat. He wasn't turning his head back to the original position so I decided to take control. I shuffled forward on my knees so I was close enough, and reached a finger out. Slowly, my finger glided over the curve of his jaw and I heard his breathing shallow. I applied slight pressure as my finger reached the side of his chin. He obediently moved his head to the side. I let my finger linger on his skin a moment longer than necessary before pulling away and settling back in my original place to start again on drawing his lips.
It seemed that my words had sent c/n into a strange kind of trance and anxiety settled in my stomach.
My tongue stuck out as I tried to re-shape his lips on my paper. I looked up again to find c/n had moved his head to stare at me again.
"On second thought maybe I should've chosen someone else. You can't seem to keep your neck turned," I chuckled softly, finding his antics more cute than annoying like I liked to act they were.
"Sorry, it's just hard to resist looking at you for even a little bit," he mumbled, turning his head again.
I frowned, wondering where my confident, snarky boy c/n had gone and how a shy boy with flushed cheeks had come to take his place.
My own cheeks flushed at his confession, but I tried not to take it to heart. He couldn't possibly like observing me, staring at me.
"It's alright, but just try to hold your head in place for just a little longer. Lips have always been tricky for me to draw and yours are giving me an especially hard time," I chuckled, trying to lighten the tension in the room.
"Maybe you should kiss them," he suggested and I dropped my pencil my eyes flying up to look at him.
Of course, of all times he chose this one to keep his head turned away from mine. Still, I could see the edge of his lips quirk up a bit in one of those rare smiles that he gave when he felt equal parts shy and equal parts bold.
"And just what do you expect that will do in helping me with drawing them, hm, c/n?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"If you can feel the grooves of my lips, you might find it easier to draw them. Drawing may be all about observing visually, but I think it benefits you when you observe sensuously as well," he said.
I just sat there, my head fighting between what I desired and what I logically knew to be smart to do.
"What harm could it do, y/n?"
I breathed deep. He was right. What harm could it really do? A million answers to that question ran through my mind but I focused on him instead. The delicious way his lips were frozen in that soft grin, the adorable bend of his nose, the way his eyelashes curled just the slightest at the ends.
I moved to sit in front of him, his head still frozen in his pose. Finally, our eyes met. His were adoring and in awe, gliding over my face, drinking me in. I moved in, slowly, until my lips were just brushing against his. Internally, I was screaming, shouting for joy, and laughing giddily but externally all that I could do before I pressed my lips completely to his was let out a weak breath.
What registered first was the slightly chapped texture of his lips, and then the softness of them underneath that. And finally, the fact that he was not pressing back into mine.
Pulling back abruptly, and overcome with embarrassment, I looked him in the eyes.
"Why–why didn't you kiss me back?" I asked, my confusion quickly turning into panic.
"Because you told me to stay still," he answered, eyes dancing with mischief, his breath shallow which told me I wasn't the only one affected by what I'd just done.
Shaking my head, I let out a breathy laugh while rolling my eyes playfully. That's when he gently placed his hands on either sides of my cheeks and pulled me in for the sweetest kiss.
As we pulled back and regained our breath, I giggled, "You may be the worst model ever, but you're the best damn kisser."
"Well, then you've gotta keep me around. Especially if you plan on drawing any more pictures of me and need more help with...observing...my lips," he chuckled.
"Oh, I'm keep you right where you are," I laughed, before he pulled me in for another kiss.