Requested by: cottoncandyakira. Enjoy. Lol, the caption for this was *'hit me baby one more time' plays in background*. Mood Song: Pictures of You (The Cure)
In all respect, Fubuki was an amazing model. When he heard you were in the art club, Fubuki didn't think at all before telling you he would model. You tried to convince him that you didn't need one, but Fubuki insisted. So, every day, after training, Fubuki came over and let you pain him.
"Fubuki, you really don't have to do this." You said. Fubuki shook his head as if to say 'it's alright' and returned his face to a neutral position. You stared gently at him for a while, before returning to your painting. A few strokes of the brush against the canvas, another long stare at Fubuki. This repeated for hours, until you finished the picture. You let out a breathy sigh, before signing your initials at the bottom of the painting.
"It's done, Fubuki." You said as Fubuki walked over and took a peek at the painting. There he was, printed perfectly in oil paint. Every little detail was perfectly laid out. His little curvatures of his face, and the little gap between his lips. The shine in his eyes was dulled, and somehow made it seem more beautiful. Fubuki stared.
"It's gorgeous." Fubuki sighed, placing a calloused hand on your shoulder. You looked to him.
"Really?" You asked.
"Yes." Fubuki answered. You smiled.
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
Even when he wasn't over, you painted Fubuki. You practiced how his eyebrows creased when he was focused or frustrated. You practices how his hands bent when he launched. How his eyes were half-lidded and hazy when he looked at you. You had thousands and thousands of pages filled with scetches of Fubuki, in black and white graphite. You evenually moved to pictures of him training, and writing. You would color in his eyes so beautifly, and the shine of his skin. Little did Fubuki know, you kept the sketches. You put them in a little binder, and looked at them for inspiration.
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
Fubuki cane over the next day, sweaty after training. He was panting, wiping his shining forehead with the back of his hand. He smirked, the little devil.
"Hey." He panted. You ushered him in, getting Fubuki a towel to wipe himself off with. Fubuki motioned to your easel.
"I'm your model. You're supposed to paint me." Fubuki said.
"Ok, well change into new clothes-" You said motioning to your bathroom. You were cut off.
"Fubuki, no! Not out here!" You said, a moment too late. Fubuki had already thrown his black shirt to a corner.
"What was that?" Fubuki questioned, cocking his head to the side.
"You were supposed to do that in the bathroom." You whispered, looking away from Fubuki's shirtless form.
"Oh." Fubuki breathed. "You're not objecting to it."
"Whg is that so important?" You asked, stealing a glance at Funaki before looking away.
"Well.." Fubuki said. "If you didn't like me, you would yell for me to get out. But of you truly, sincerely liked me, you wouldn't freak out."
"And what if I did like you?" You said, looking up at him once more.
"I would kiss you." Fubuki said.
"Maybe I do like you." You whispered. Fubuki's bare chest pressed up against you, and your lips met. Your hands moved to rest on his shoulders, Fubuki's to your hips. After a couple of minutes, you both pulled away, red-faced and blushing.
"I would've never expected this from a guy like you." You whispered.
"And I never expected you to paint."
It's been a while, hasn't it? I just got the worst case of writers block in history. Sorry
YOU ARE READING
𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 {𝙾𝙽 𝙷𝙸𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂
Fanfiction" 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒'𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. " 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝. 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍: 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍: 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗
