→ genre ; fluff | angst if you squint ??
→ pairings ; artistl!yoshinori x artistl!y/n
everything is an art form. yet you always seemed to have the wrong paintbrushes or a shaky hand.
yoshinori is lying on his bed, watching you paint. he’s admiring you, eyebrows furrowed and tongue poking out as you try to mix the right shades together. you’ve been working on this painting for the past 3 hours and it still doesn’t look quite right. you step away from your canvas, observing it at a different angle before giving up.
you sigh, settling down onto the bed next to yoshinori as he gives you an encouraging smile.
‘i’m tired.’ you sigh out.
'can you give me a goodnight kiss?’ you plead. he widens his eyes in disbelief, making you laugh out loud.
'fine.’ he moves closer, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before licking your cheek and running away.
'argh yoshi that’s disgusting!’ you yell out, running after him.
yoshinori is your best friend and lifeline. he’s the only one keeping you sane. you rant to him about your struggles as an art student, the exorbitant prices of art supplies and about how much your art teacher absolutely hates your guts. you sleep over at his apartment anytime you have a big assignment due. he keeps you calm. you still remember the day you met him. you were in the campus art studio, having a panic attack. you looked like a shell of a human being, shoulders hunched over as you cried over your sketchbook. yoshinori had walked in, choosing to sit beside you, softly stroking your hair as you cried and explained your frustrations. if he hadn’t been there you probably would have ended up breaking your expensive crayons and brushes in half. he was so approachable and warm. you supposed there were no strangers in yoshinori’s world, only new friends. you two quickly became inseparable after that day.
you wake up to an amazing smell. yoshinori’s side of the bed is empty so you look around, trying to find him. he always makes your favorite nutella pancakes when you sleep over. it’s become a tradition.
'come in.’ he says, turning around to find you peeking from behind the kitchen door.
'good morning, thanks for the breakfast.’ you smile, giving him a quick hug as he flips another pancake. his hair is still slightly damp from his shower, the smell of his cotton candy shampoo engulfing you.
you settle down onto the table, scrolling through your instagram feed as yoshinori finishes making the pancakes.
'yoshi, do you think i can make it as an artist?’ you ask in between bites.
yoshinori looks at you, stunned by your sudden question. you take a huge bite of pancake, nervously waiting for his answer.
'i know you will.’ he answers after a moment.
'you do know mr. clent hates me right? i haven’t gotten a single grade above a B this whole semester…’ you whisper.
'it’s not always about the grades, especially in a creative field. when i see your art, i feel like it’s going to jump off the canvas and come alive. your art tells stories that no one else can tell. that’s your weapon.’ he explains.
he smiles at you and it’s that smile. the smile that makes you feel like all of your dreams can come true and everything will be okay. you stuff another bite of pancake in your mouth, desperately trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding inside your chest.
'you’re a really good talker mr. kanemoto’ you shake your head, trying to hide your smile.
after a quick shower, you’re back to painting. a weak stream of light peers through the small window in yoshinori’s room, making you look angelic.
you hear beeping and turn around to see yoshinori on his phone texting. sometimes, you wished yoshinori wasn’t so popular. he wasn’t only liked by students, he was also mr. clent’s favorite student. the promising art prodigy. whenever there was an art exhibition, girls would flock to his side. they would ask irrelevant questions about his artworks, mostly interested in the way he would sip white wine and arch his perfect eyebrows as he talked about technique and color theory. surprisingly, he never worked on his drawings in front of you. he probably didn’t want you to have a mental breakdown over how talented he was compared to you. you turn back around, painting more aggressively this time.
is it normal to feel slightly envious?
'wanna get some coffee?’ he asks.
'yes please, i feel like i’m going to go insane if i see one more speck of gold’ you laugh, grabbing your cardigan from his chair.
you walk towards the campus café, noticing the cold breeze as you wonder how yoshinori can wear ripped jeans in this weather.
yoshinori rests his hand on his chin, staring at you with an endearing look. you’re ranting about yet another annoying professor as he swirls his straw around, taking frequent sips of his matcha latte. you talk with your hands, bright eyes twinkling as you get to the key point in your story.
yoshinori thinks about how fitting your drink choice is, a caramel macchiato. you pretend to be a bitter artist yet deep down you’re the sweetest person he has ever met. you’re always frustrated because you run on hope. hope that the world would be a little better, a little kinder. he memorizes the way your lips purse as you take a sip, planning to make you his next project. for him, it came easily. the lines and the shapes came together in his head as soon as he saw you.
summer is settling in and you no longer have to worry about strict professors and artist statements. it’s 9pm when you burst into yoshinori’s apartment, a tiny bottle of red wine in your front jean pocket. yoshinori doesn’t bother asking questions as he lets you in.
'you know that guy i went on a date with last week? i can’t believe that jerk ghosted me.. you know what? fuck him he looked like a noodle anyways.’ you yell out, walking past yoshinori to sprawl yourself onto his couch. yoshinori chuckles to himself, watching you drink straight out of the tiny red wine bottle. even during rough times you absolutely refused to drink hard liquor.
you notice that yoshinori is drying his hair with a fluffy looking pink towel as he sits next to you. you try not to stare but he looks really, really good.
'not to put you down when you’re having a rough time but could you take some of your skincare products home? your 13 bottles of rosewater and clay masks are taking up all the counter space in my bathroom.’ he says, running a hand through his damp hair.
'fine. guess i’ll just be bae-less and ugly.’ you scoff, placing your legs over his.
'you’re neither of those,’ he whispers.
'what did you just say?’ you raise an eyebrow.
he freezes, pink towel in hand as he realizes his mistake.
'i said… you’re neither of those. you’re beautiful y/n, i’ve told you that countless time.’ voice not coming out nearly as steady as he would have hoped.
'yeah but i’m still bae-less’ you whine.
'i could be your bae…’ he mutters.
you picked a horrible time to take a swig of wine because the moment yoshinori says that you spit a mouthful of red wine right into his face.
'oh my god i’m so so sorry’ you say as you grab the pink towel in his hands, dabbing onto his skin. you didn’t realize you were so close until yoshinori places his hand above yours, taking the towel before kissing you softly. he hooks his hands around the back of your thighs as you wrap your legs tightly around his torso. your palms splay across his chest, pressing into him. you taste a little bitter and a little sour from the wine but yoshinori doesn’t mind. you let out a small whine of protest as your lips separate.
'i can’t do this anymore. i can’t pretend not to be into you anymore.’
'i like you too yoshi…. we could be together but you know… i should really to get my shit together before i try to be in a relationship…’ you mumble.
'i don’t need you to get your shit together y/n. but if you need help, i’ll always be here for you. as your friend or as your bae. you call the shots.’ he winked.
you thought it over for a few days, isolating yourself in your room as you survived on cubes of cheese. yoshinori was beginning to think he had made a huge mistake by confessing to you. maybe you just weren’t ready.
yoshinori had always been there for you, a little too generous if you were honest. you weren’t scared of him breaking your heart. you were scared that one day he would wake up and realize he could do better. knowing him, he would probably break it to you in the kindest way possible. your mind wandered back to the first day you met him. if he wasn’t ready to be in your life, he wouldn’t have sat and comforted you for hours. he wouldn’t put so much time and effort into making you pancakes every time you were at his apartment. he wouldn’t have been the one and only person who motivated you as an artist.
you suddenly get up, putting on your sneakers as you rush to your kitchen cabinet, grabbing a bottle of vodka. you had never run so fast in your entire life. by the time yoshinori opens the door, you’re out of breath and glowing with sweat.
'what are you doing here?’ he questions.
'you said i could call the shots so i’m here.’ you say, walking past him and into his kitchen as you look for shot glasses.
'let’s cheers to us, being baes or whatever the kids say these days’ you laugh, pouring him a shot.
as yoshinori watches you down your shot, he silently thanks whatever or whoever guided him to the art room on that day.
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andulkaphoto
vaporwave
2087
