#model AU

[jayohdotp]

🙋‍♂️🙋‍♂️🙋‍♂️

[muftiys]

model au, i am so normal

[xazafranx]

"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚝."

💟🦔🎇

[snail-studios]

model au stuff...

[osgoss]

Another AU!! Well I say AU, but really, this was just an excuse for me to draw bk in some sick outfits

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 Part III

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader

Warnings— Mentions of arousal, fluff.

Series Masterlist

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The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft patterns on the bed. You woke up to the quiet sounds of the ocean outside, your body still tangled in the warmth of the sheets. Nicholas was already awake, propped up against the headboard, scrolling through his phone beside you. He looked effortlessly fine—his hair messily perfect, his jawline catching the light, those pretty eyes.

“Morning,” he said, glancing at you with a small smile. His voice was rough, low, and intimate in the quiet room.

“Morning,” you replied, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

There was a beat of silence, the air thick with the unspoken acknowledgment of what had transpired the night before. You sat up, the covers slipping off your shoulders as you reached for your phone, you were one of those people. But the memory of his touch, how close he was to you last night, was still vivid in your mind.

“So, last night..,” you said eventually, your voice softer than usual. “I haven’t had something like that in a long time.”

Nicholas looked at you for a moment before answering. “Wow, but it was nice.”

You caught yourself studying him—his relaxed posture, the way his fingers scrolled through his phone, and the faint hint of a smile on his lips. There was a question you wanted to ask, something burning at the back of your mind. Was he hard this morning? The thought made your cheeks heat up. You didn’t bother asking. You already knew the answer. But the real question was—why? Was it because of you, or was it just typical morning wood?

Instead of voicing your thoughts, you both dove into headlines, trying to avoid the lingering air between you. As you scrolled through the news, a headline caught your eye, and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you.

“‘Mystery man spotted! Could this be the one to tame the wild child?’” you read aloud, barely containing your laughter.

Nicholas leaned over to glance at your phone, his eyebrow quirking. “Tame? Are they serious?”

“I know, right?” you said, still laughing. “I’m in my early 20s, at the top of my career. I don’t need some man tying me down.” You paused, glancing at him. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he replied with a smirk, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

The laughter eased the tension, and the two of you fell into the kind of comfortable rhythm that had been building since your first meeting. You spent the rest of the morning lounging around, the conversation flowing easily. At one point, Nicholas opened up about his past, a year long relationship that had ended just before his career had taken off.

“Were you in love?” you asked, curiosity lacing your tone.

He shook his head thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. It just didn’t work. We were in different spaces in life, completely different people.”

You nodded, processing his words before admitting, “I’ve never been in love, I think.”

The confession hung in the air, intimate and raw. His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, you wondered what he was thinking. Was he imagining what it would be like if your first taste of love was with him?

You shifted the conversation, steering it toward lighter topics. hobbies, interests, little quirks that made you both laugh. The more you learned about him, the more you realized how different you were, yet there was an odd sense of compatibility that kept pulling you back in.

Later in the afternoon, you both sat down to discuss your next PR move.

“I’ve got a GQ red carpet event in a few days,” Nicholas mentioned. “It’s the perfect opportunity to make this whole thing slightly more public.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “What’s the plan? Play it cool?”

“Exactly,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ll be my date, but we won’t even follow each other on social media. Let the speculation do the work.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Look at us, plotting and scheming.”

Nicholas chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I can’t believe this is the same person the media paints as a messy party girl.”

“And I can’t believe you’re supposed to be the detached, aloof guy,” you countered, grinning.

He smiled, his gaze softening. “You’re not so bad. Not bad at all.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The afternoon had barely begun when Angela, you and Nicholas’ manager, threw a last-minute photoshoot into your schedule. This wasn’t new, she was known for her knack for delivering surprises, but you didn’t mind. Despite the controversies that had plagued your career recently, brands were still eager to work with you. It was a testament to your influence, even when the media tried to frame you as a wild child.

As you prepared to leave the beach house, your driver pulled up. Nicholas was still lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. When you casually mentioned the shoot, he perked up.

“Mind if I come?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.

You laughed, raising an eyebrow. “To a photoshoot? Why?”

“I want to see you in your element,” he said, his tone surprisingly eager.

It was an odd request, but something about it felt endearing. You shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Arriving on set, the atmosphere was as chaotic as ever—stylists rushing around, makeup artists perfecting details, and the director shouting last-minute adjustments. As you were whisked away to wardrobe, Nicholas trailed behind, taking everything in with wide-eyed fascination.

When you emerged from the dressing room, clad in a couture gown that hugged your figure perfectly, Nicholas looked stunned. He didn’t say much, but his expression spoke volumes.

“You clean up nice,” he teased, smirking as you walked past him toward the set.

“Don’t I always?” you shot back playfully, throwing a wink over your shoulder.

As you posed, the producers buzzed around, setting up lights and angles. One of them, a sharp-eyed man with a clipboard, noticed Nicholas standing off to the side.

“Who’s he?” he asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

You seized the opportunity, a sly smile spreading across your face. “Well, that’s Nicholas Chavez. He’s my industry muse. Gaining traction fast. He starred in Ryan Murphy’s Netflix show about the Menendez brothers, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Great actor, and honestly, he has the kind of face that would be perfect for campaigns. You should keep him in mind for any projects or shoots.”

Nicholas blinked, caught off guard by your sudden endorsement, but he quickly recovered, nodding along and smiling gratefully. “Thanks,” he murmured under his breath as he stood beside you.

You glanced at him, brushing it off casually. “It’s my job now isn’t it? That’s why we’re doing this PR thing in the first place.”

The shoot went on, and you moved through each pose effortlessly, embodying the grace and confidence that had made you a household name. Draped in high fashion and surrounded by a perfectly styled set of flowers and soft lighting, you were in your element. Nicholas watched from the sidelines, snapping candid videos and pictures on his phone.

“I can’t believe you just do this,” he said during a break, shaking his head. “It’s like watching a masterclass.”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

By the end of the day, you both had enough content to stir the media into another frenzy. Nicholas snapped a picture of the set, with you posing in the background, while you did the same. The plan was to release the images strategically once the photos were ready, perfect publicity for both of you.

Later that evening, Nicholas invited you into his mansion. The two of you lounged in his master bedroom, scrolling through social media and discussing the buzz that was already building.

“Think it’s time to post these?” Nicholas asked, holding up his phone with a mischievous grin. He was referring to the photos of the romantic set up from your beach house.

“Go for it,” you said. “I’ll follow your lead.”

He uploaded the photos first, his caption vague enough to keep people guessing. You followed a few minutes later, knowing the coordinated posts would send your followers into a frenzy.

“This is a fun game,” you admitted, laughing softly as you watched the likes and comments pour in.

Nicholas leaned back against the pillows, his gaze on you. “Look at us, playing the media like it’s chess.”

You grinned but said nothing, focusing instead on the undeniable ease that had settled between you two. As the night wore on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, jokes, stories, playful banter.

But eventually, you excused yourself. As much as you enjoyed his company, a part of you held back. You couldn’t afford to enjoy it too much, not when the lines between professional and personal were already so blurred.

As you walked next door to your house, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something unpredictable. Would your alliance lead to something more, or was it foreshadowing the chaos to come? Only time would tell.

It should’ve been easy to slip back into your usual mindset, focus on your modeling career, keep your emotions in check, and stay professional. But as much as you tried, your thoughts kept wandering back to Nicholas, how he looked at you today, the way he made you laugh, and how he didn’t seem fazed by your world of chaos. He wasn’t intimidated by it the way other men that had been in your life were.

By the time you stepped into your home, the familiar silence greeted you, grounding you in reality. The space felt bigger than usual, emptier somehow, and you rolled your eyes at yourself. Get a grip, you thought. You weren’t the type to get hung up on anyone, let alone someone you barely knew.

You changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your curls back as you sank into the couch with your phone in hand. Notifications were exploding from the posts you and Nicholas had made earlier. Fans and media outlets alike were speculating, spinning wild theories about the "mystery man." Headlines like “Wild Child Model Tamed?” and “The Love Story We Didn’t See Coming” made you laugh out loud.

“Settle down?” you muttered to yourself. “They’re insane.”

But beneath the humor, a strange pang hit you. It was more like curiosity. What if they aren’t completely wrong? You shook the thought off. You were in your early twenties, at the peak of your career. You didn’t need a man to define or anchor you, even one as intriguing as Nicholas.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. A text from him.

Hope you got inside safe though I watched you from my window. Thanks for bringing me to the shoot today, it was kind of amazing seeing you do your thing.

For a moment, you just stared at the screen, his words making you smile despite yourself. He didn’t have to text you. This wasn’t part of the PR script. You typed back quickly.

Don’t get used to it. My world’s a little too chaotic for you.

The response was immediate.

I don’t know. I think I can handle it ;)

You found yourself laughing, the warmth from earlier creeping back. But you couldn’t let this go beyond what it was, a strategic partnership, a temporary arrangement. Right?

You tossed your phone onto the couch and let your head fall back, staring at the ceiling. It should’ve been simple to keep things professional. Nicholas was just another coworker in a way, a means to an end for both of you. But there was something about him, his quiet confidence, the way he challenged you without overstepping, and how he didn’t take himself too seriously, that was starting to get under your skin.

It’s just because he’s new, you told yourself. Once the buzz dies down, so will this—whatever it is.

Still, a small part of you wondered if he felt the same pull. He wasn’t like most people you worked with, who saw you as a means to elevate their own image. Nicholas had seemed genuinely curious about you today, more interested in watching you work than using your name for clout.

Later that night, you scrolled through Instagram, where fans were dissecting every detail of your joint posts. Nicholas had posted first—just a picture of the set with a cryptic caption: “Quiet on set. She’s working.” You’d followed up an hour later with a similar post, careful not to include him in the shot.

The game was still on.

As you lay in bed, your thoughts drifted again. You didn’t want to admit it, but you enjoyed his company far more than you expected. Maybe too much. And that was dangerous. The last thing you needed was to blur the lines between professional and personal.

But then you remembered the way he looked at you today, like you were more than just a headline or a pretty face. Could you really keep this strictly professional? Or was it already too late?

With a frustrated sigh, you rolled over and closed your eyes, determined not to let this turn into something bigger. Tomorrow, it would be back to business. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

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Taglist: @blackynsupremacy @rafeysslut @lanadelreysvs

[idlerin]

nonsense — 36. need you like oxygen

you still thought of kenma’s message 3 hours later.

it was a good reminder to have, everything that’s happening isn’t something controlled by a superior being pulling at the strings of fate. it was at your pace, you knew oikawa would do it at your pace, but recently, you’ve started to wonder what pace did you want it to go? because with oikawa, it was as if settling back into your previous dynamic was just… comfortable. it wasn’t easy and yet it wasn’t difficult. perhaps, it was his general presence that was familiar and secure, even so, it also felt as if you were experiencing new things with the same person who used to hold your heart.

it was still his to hold onto.

all those months and years of wallowing in fury, being hung up on something that had long since passed. something that no one could blame you for as it left a huge gash in your mind and heart. oikawa wasn’t the primary person to blame for all of the pain you experienced in the past but he was one of the catalysts, the amount of love you gave him in the past was the same love that made you blind with hate.

you’re grateful that despite everything, you received a great support system from your friends. you could say that they were a major part of why you persevered, worked hard, and keep on working hard in the present.

did you ever plan to mend your relationship with your parents? you want to, but not now. there were things you were ready for and things you were not. you think it’s completely fine to focus on things that make you happy until you’re ready to handle more strenuous things of the heart. you were just beginning to fix your relationship with oikawa, and you think that you’d like to completely mend things with him so you could face your parents together. you admit it’s unfair for you to put this expectation on him, but all you wanted was to be completely sure that he was there for you.

you wanted to be constantly assured that he was all in, not just dipping his hands again in waters he didn’t know how to handle. it was the same for you, you wanted to be a better partner, because to be honest, you still weren’t fully convinced that you deserved him. 

again, that train of thought was unfair to both you and oikawa, because you were both trying to be better. it’s not like you could stop these insecurities, you’re also trying your best to repress the negative train of thoughts but you just couldn’t help it. it’s not something to blame anyone on but yourself.

just earlier, when you were surprised to find that oikawa visited you near your university just because he wanted to see you again (where you soon found out he was conspiring with your friends who told on your possible location)— ignoring the fact that you spend practically everyday with him now, unless he had a full packed schedule, it was never enough for him, so to say, he could never get enough of you— made you feel treasured and important. you only hope you could display the same amount of affection towards him in a way that he would notice that his efforts are being reciprocated.

it was a bit difficult to confront him and be open whenever it came to work. there would always be certain boundaries set in place, and one of those would be pretending you didn’t know each other, you didn’t spend countless hours rememorizing his facial features, you didn’t spend years aching for and because of him. you both had to be professional, and you both knew what the nature of his job entailed from the very beginning.

you would always have to be careful because you didn’t know what the consequences would be.

you let out a deep breath.

you were thinking too much again, it contrasted the good mood you were in this morning. you were beginning to resonate with one of those overused corny inspirational quotes that goes along the lines of “your mind is your biggest enemy” at this moment, that cringey quote is completely relatable.

you snapped out of your daze thanks to akane nudging your shoulder. you glanced at her with blinking eyes because of being startled, “sorry, did i space out?”

“no worries, we aren’t even doing anything right now. something on your mind?” akane asked, “is it about a certain good-looking famous heartthrob you’re dating?” she wiggled her brows to tease.

you let out a chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, “whenever i space out, it isn’t always about him you know?” you hit her softly on the shoulder.

“so you’re practically saying it’s usually about him—wait,” akane made an exaggerated shocked expression, “you didn’t deny that you were dating!” she grasped your shoulders, “oh my god tell me all the details!”

“what do you mean?” you scrunched up your nose, squinting your eyes at her.

“hey whenever i used to say “dating” and you-know-who in one sentence you would always like refuse and stuff and deny it then you would deny it even more but this time you didn’t! so that means something,” akane proudly concluded.

“there’s nothing to tell,” you stubbornly say, shrugging and smirking when akane dramatically whines.

“come on, [name],” akane pleads, you know she’s been wanting to know ‘all the juicy details’ for days now.

“nope! now enough of that, where is everybody?” you just realized that you and akane were the only ones in the studio, you checked your watch and it was break time, “riseki too, did he go out to eat without us?”

akane grumbled before fixing herself up, “they all went to watch the live interview of oikawa-san in studio 2, did you not know? i came to pick you up here for that reason cause i thought you might want to watch too. although you probably see his face all the time even during non-working days but i thought it was weird you weren’t there! it’s a big deal you know cause it’s the first time this famous magazine is going to a celeb for the interview, the actors and actresses they invite usually have to come by their studio.”

oikawa mentioned that particular interview earlier in the car, he said he wanted you to watch if you were free (because he didn’t know the exact time they would drop by, you interjected then, asking “how would i know when to watch, then?” he merely answered, “i think you would notice,” he grinned at you), he said it so nonchalantly with the same amount of arrogance as usual that you didn’t think of it as such a big deal. leave it to him to act as if big things weren’t of much importance, of course you wanted to watch.

you then held onto akane’s wrist with a sudden burst of impatience, “come on let’s watch, i’ve probably missed a lot already,” you clutched her hand.

akane made a skeptical—obviously would get you some profuse teasing later on— face, “well someone’s eager.”

“yeah yeah i know, tease me about it later,” you gave up on acting cool when it came to things about oikawa and pulled on her hand to get going.

a crowd.

a crowd is what greeted you the moment you entered studio 2, it looked like everybody decided to spend their break watching oikawa’s interview. that was how enamored with him they were. you hear the whispers of “oikawa-san is so nice” and “he’s so understanding and approachable” so you knew he was definitely a staff favorite. you could even say he was the actor everyone liked the most, if the incessant fangirling and fanboying every working day wasn’t already an evident tell. among the heads of hairs, you could see a glimpse of the magazine crew (because they were unfamiliar faces) maneuvering the equipment like the lighting and fan for the interviewer and oikawa. you could only see the side of his head properly from where you were standing, but you could hear his voice.

“—still overwhelming, years into acting. i still feel like i need more experience, you know? i’m very grateful for the opportunities given to me. i could say that fate’s ridicule ways is a project that i’ve never done before so everything’s really cool,” the smooth baritone of his voice gave a funny feeling in your stomach, no matter how many times you’ve heard it before.

“ooh! i see riseki over there, c’mon [name], he’s standing closer,” akane whispers to you and is now dragging you towards riseki who was indeed nearer the set up (not without a bunch of “excuse me’s” and “oops, sorry’s”). riseki spotted the two of you and ushered you over quickly with him, he even sent you a sly wink and eyes pointedly looking at oikawa. you resist a chuckle and settle for lightly hitting his arm which he smiles-laughs at.

“hmm something you haven't done before? so are the rumors true? your character isn’t going to be one of the ‘good guys’?” the interviewer’s brows were raised, very interested in what he seemed to have discovered.

oikawa’s laughter rang through the studio, “clever, it’s better to wait till it airs,” he smirks. in the middle of his laughter and the interviewer pretending to be dismayed, your eyes met. you notice the slight tense he had on his shoulders softened, and he sends you a secret smile. he was more at ease now that he saw you in the crowd, it gave you a rush, a reminder of how much you really affected him.

“you got me with that one,” the interviewer pretended to think, “how about your rumored romance with alisa haiba’s character? with the kind of teasers coming out, with you and haiba’s pairing putting into work, both of your influences are skyrocketing, what do you have to say about that?” the interviewer sat in a curious position.

“uhm…” oikawa spent a good minute thinking, “i don’t really have anything to say, sorry,” he laughs again, “it’s insane how much people like seeing us together, alisa and i are good friends, i only wish well for both her and i’s careers.”

the interviewer nodded, “alright onto the next—oh just the right question. which actor or actress in fate’s ridicule ways do you like working with the most?” the look on their face insinuated that they already had an expected answer, they were only waiting for oikawa to say it.

the interviewer wanted tooru to mention alisa’s name.

that would surely make thousands of fans go insane. you gulped, you’ve seen fans on the internet ship them, to the point of even making compilations of the limited clips tooru and alisa had together, giving meaning to actions neither actors had thought twice of. they were currently one of the internet’s most talked about on-screen couples despite the show not having been aired yet. you tried to not let it bother you that much since it was inevitable due to the nature of their characters and tooru and alisa’s chemistry even you couldn’t deny.

after all, it was all just work and at the end of the day you were the one presence oikawa seeked to have near all the time.

that was supposed to assure you, it was supposed to be enough.

but it’s not.

again, it’s no one’s fault but yours, that’s why you have to act like normal and not like jealousy is absolutely eating you alive.

ah, that sounds wrong, it’s like you’re making yourself out to be some easily bitter person. you have no ill will towards alisa, in fact, you adore her. maybe it really was different when you know that the person you’re in love with couldn’t flaunt you freely at all.

were you really not cut out for this? if you didn’t break up 3 years ago, would you have broken it off eventually?

“i don’t really have a favorite person to work with, everyone’s really talented and nice—” oikawa began.

“what about haiba-san?” someone from the crowd couldn’t help but shout. it was one of the regular staff, and they must have been forced to shut up by someone nearby because all you could hear after was a muffled grumble of protest.

since the world is cruel, that's when oikawa’s eyes met yours again. he must have seen something he didn’t like because his face contorted into displeasure. you wondered what kind of expression you were making right now for him to look so concerned.

“oh? you heard them, looks like you and alisa have fans even among the crew,” the interviewer tried pushing it.

right then, you felt akane’s hand grabbing yours and comfortingly caressing it with her thumb.

oikawa shook his head, “alisa is lovely to work with, but i don’t have a favorite workmate,” he was suddenly a bit more serious, he must have realized he sounded too stern because he let out a smile, “i can’t just possibly choose only one, we’re all one big family on set.”

the interviewer finally let it go once he realized he really wasn’t going to get anything from oikawa. they moved on to the next questions and the rest of the interview flowed smoothly. the whole time, oikawa kept sneaking glances at you as if at any moment you would storm out and disappear. he acted as he usually did and he did it well, but you notice that the slight tense on his shoulders was back again.

you couldn’t focus properly the whole time too, but you didn’t want to leave. you didn’t want to miss this interview since oikawa wanted you to watch, because of that you want to be there to see the whole thing through. whenever one of those sneaky glances came to be, you gave him a small smile to assure him that you were fine and he was doing great.

the interview concluded and everyone started to disperse, going back to their assigned tasks. you only see oikawa and the interviewer shaking hands, having a little chat. you don’t know why you’re hoping you could have time to talk to him a bit, it didn’t look like he had a moment to slip away from the spotlight. maybe in the silly little head of yours you just wanted to have a one-on-one talk with him, if you do that, maybe the erratic beating of your heart that isn’t due to excitement would stabilize.

riseki tapped your shoulder, “they’re calling the interns over, i think we have to help with some paperwork,” he said to both you and akane. riseki gave you a concerned look but before he could say something you cut him off by grabbing his hand and tugging akane over.

“what are you both waiting for then? let’s go,” you force out a laugh.

you fail to notice the glance oikawa sent your way.

which means you also failed to notice his dismayed expression, he wanted a chance to talk to you before he went back to filming again. what happened earlier must have fed into your insecurities again, oikawa knows of it because of the things you’ve told him before. he just wanted to make sure you were okay, you were just slowly giving him your trust again, he doesn’t want to accidentally lose it again.

it was awful timing that tooru and alisa had a specific scene they had to film together today. that scene had to be the one that required both of them to be in extremely close proximity. you were even more unluckier that you had to assist one of the professionals during their scene. It was their confrontation scene you think, you read through their script due to oikawa just leaving it around in his penthouse. he didn’t mind you reading the manuscript but you don’t think it’s particularly something he’s allowed to do (he doesn’t care).

you can suffer for a few minutes, it’s fine, it won’t mean anything to either of them, so it’s fine. have you said that it’s fine? it’s fine, you’re fine.

so yes you can suffer for a little while.

and suffer you do.

“where do you think you’re going, emira?” oikawa (technically, oikawa’s character, dion) whispers to alisa. oikawa backs alisa into the wall, one of his hands holding a (fake) gun on the side of her head, his other hand grasping at her waist. it wasn’t a romantic scene in hindsight, but the enticing tension they were portraying was undeniable, “do you think i would just let you off?” his hold on her waist tightens ever so slightly.

“don’t be silly dion, i know you better now,” alisa spoke, acting as calm despite the obvious threat to her—emira’s—life. “you won’t shoot me,” she says confidently, looking oikawa straight in the eye.

“hm?” oikawa was amused, “but i’ve always wanted to get rid of you though? this is the perfect opportunity,” he fiddles with the gun, twisting it and smiling maniacally. you got the chills, you were so busy watching oikawa’s performance that you momentarily forgot where you were.

“you still need me,” alisa said, taking oikawa’s hand, the one holding the gun and placing it beneath her temple, “and i’m not scared of you.”

they were so close now, oikawa and alisa were a hair’s breadth away while you were the one feeling breathless.

“you’re bothersome, you should’ve stepped out of this mess a long time ago,” the hand oikawa had on her waist rose to her nape to tilt her head higher, “and yet you’re still here.”

“am i bothersome? or do i just make you feel things you shouldn’t dion?” alisa said.

he fell in love with her.

oikawa gave her a cruel smile, “you’re right… i fell in love with you,” he nudges the gun up harshly, “it’s not the nice kind of love, though,” he then starts letting go of the gun, letting it fall off to the side, “i want you in ways you wouldn’t.”

his hand that once held the gun now held alisa’s chin between his index and thumb, staring at her lips, that’s when she responds, “i don’t have to want it to like it, do i?”

that’s it.

you couldn’t take it anymore.

it was so frustrating how you were so… being so… childish, totally irrational, and how you were losing your mind over it. you were being unreasonably jealous and it’s starting to consume your train of thought.

“cut!” the director clapped, oikawa and alisa stepped away from each other and both began to be pampered by assistants, “perfect! that was great, the tension exuded was very alluring, it was amazing, it looked perfect,” the director looked and acted delighted, “i need a retake of the last few lines though, oikawa, maybe you could lean a bit more closer to alisa? and alisa could you make your expression look more like you don’t want it–but you do, do you get me? alright.”

both actors nodded and conversed about what they should do, oikawa took this slight break to look for you in the crowd too. he saw you, but you were heavily avoiding direct eye contact with him and it was very much obvious to him who seeks your attention so persistently.

your thoughts were all over the place, you definitely did not want to witness oikawa and alisa doing that last part again. luckily, the world gives you kindness this time around and the personnel you were assisting put you aside and told you heavenly words, “that’s all for my work today, thank you for your help. i think you could clock out early now too, just drop by your head kiddo.”

“thank you,” like actually thank you so much i can not handle more of that anymore, thank you so much! thank you! thank you! thank you! you said, you were very thankful in a lot of ways. he smiled at you before waving you farewell, you turn around and go to where riseki was standing to tell him you were allowed to leave early so you might just go ahead. “i’m almost done too, could you wait for me? akane might also be done in a few, maybe we could all drink out—moderately. what do you think?” riseki asked, you laughed when he said moderately probably because of your antics the last time you all went out drinking… and your thinking of oikawa again god. 

“sounds fun, i’ll roam around out though for a bit, i just don’t want to uhm…” you didn’t know how to word it properly, riseki looked to the center where the filming was going on and immediately understood. “it’s cool, i’ll ring you,” riseki nods and you smile at him before heading out.

you didn’t know what to do and you didn’t mean what to do while waiting for akane and riseki. you just didn’t know what to do to solve your complicated emotions, what could you do to make yourself be at ease? you understand that it’s normal, these kinds of feelings are always normal, but you don’t want it to be something normal because it’s such an awful feeling to have.

you started walking to calm yourself and your racing thoughts.

it was just… does he really not feel anything for the other person when he has to act scenes similar to that? how could he detach himself from the character he’s playing? you know that it’s all just a part of his job description. he was an actor, it was literally in the name. that’s why you were even more disappointed in yourself because it’s just nonsensical how you were reacting to this.

with this.. this ugly uncontrollable emotion that makes you want to cry.

but you’re not going to cry, you don’t want to cry anymore, you’ve been crying a lot these days and such a measly thing like this would not bring you to tears. you just need to take a deep breath, you can stay annoyed and frustrated with yourself but you will not result in waterworks.

you refuse.

you didn’t realize how far you’ve gotten on your walk, you managed to reach the park nearby. you then feel your feet starting to ache, it really does you no good to walk so far and for so long. as you were approaching a bench to rest on you felt a drop on your head. you tilted your head up and raindrops started pouring slowly one by one. shit, it was going to rain and you didn’t bring your bag with you, you only had your wallet and phone.

you reach in your pocket to get your phone out, just as you were about to call akane, your phone dies.

it died.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

there was nothing near to shield yourself from the rain, as is, if you ran towards the nearest shelter—which would probably take way too long to run towards, also would be very tiring and would not be worth much of your effort—you would be soaked thoroughly anyways. so what would be the point! you were tired, frustrated, and annoyed as you plopped yourself on the bench and let yourself be drenched by the rain with an angry look on your face.

you give up!

while you were accepting your fate and decided to angrily sit on a bench in the rain, back in the studio they were wrapping up oikawa and alisa’s scene. oikawa was in his trailer pacing back and forth because you weren’t answering any of his calls. all of his scenes for the day were done and he hoped you hadn’t already left because he wanted to take you home, but you couldn’t be contacted. were you upset with him? is that why you weren’t responding to him? he bit his lower lip in anxiousness, he was beginning to become really worried and started to think of possible situations you could be in as to why you couldn’t pick up your phone.

it made him worry more.

a knock on the door had him fix himself up as much as he could to look the least bit more composed, “sato?” he called, thinking it was his manager.

“uhm… no, sorry… it’s uh riseki, [name]’s friend, a fellow intern,” riseki began, oikawa instantly opened the door the moment he heard riseki mention your name. he knew this guy as one of the people that knows about the true nature of you and oikawa’s relationship.

“do you know where she is?” oikawa asked hurriedly which made riseki step back, he caught himself, “sorry.. i was just trying to contact her but she wasn't answering her phone. maybe you know where she is?” he smiled.

“that’s what i came to you about oikawa-san, she wasn’t answering my calls either. she left around 30 or so minutes ago to take a walk because she was going to wait for akane—another intern— and me so we could all go out. i thought of letting you know because well… she seemed to be in an awful mood when she left and i’m worried, you might know better how to face her and make her feel better you know? so yeah that was my train of thought but then it started to rain—” riseki got cut off.

“it’s raining and she’s out there?” oikawa was worried now, knowing you, you were probably drenched in the rain. oikawa looked around his trailer for an umbrella and grabbed the first one he saw.

“yeah so i—”

oikawa ran past him.

he ran frantically across the place, making some of the staff look over him in confusion, it wasn’t everyday you see him look and act so scatterbrained. good thing there was another scene being filmed as of now so the attention wouldn’t be on him, no one would look for him aside from his manager. the only thing on his mind was where you might have gone, he was worried sick. you couldn’t have wandered that far, right?

oikawa braved the rain and started heading out, if you were upset when you left riseki, oikawa deduced you were walking to clear your head, which meant you probably walked mindlessly for the most part so it would be difficult to figure where you could have went. oikawa wandered around the streets for a while, calling out your name in hopes you would respond. he was growing more and more restless. he had to think, think where you could possibly go.

there was a park near the studio, it was a 15? 20? minute walk away… could you have gone all the way there?

his feet started moving before he could finish his thought. the rain wasn’t forgiving and seemed to become harsher with every minute that passed, he didn’t want to waste another second. minutes felt as if it were eternity when the park came into oikawa’s periphery. he still kept calling out your name, he ran around the place before finally spotting your familiar figure sitting on one of the benches.

oikawa ran towards where you were, slowing down when he was inches away from you and his shadow covered yours, “[name],” he uttered in relief. he notices how soaked you were, from your hair to your clothes, his brows furrowed and he leaned the umbrella he was holding until it was hovering over you completely. he didn’t care that he was now getting ambushed by the rain, you were more important.

“i was looking everywhere for you,” oikawa says again, despite the harsh rain being too loud and muffling his voice, he wasn’t sure if you could hear him properly.

you said nothing back.

your head was lowered and it made oikawa more concerned, which is why he resorted to kneeling in front of you even if there was a wet patch on the ground. so he could be the one to look up at you and he could finally see your face. he was successful in his endeavor since this way, he does get to see your face. a pretty face that was looking at him in confusion, oikawa returned the look with a small smile.

“what are you doing?” were the first words you uttered to him, it made oikawa glad even if you sounded appalled.

“i wanted to see my pretty darling’s face, but she didn’t want to look at me,” oikawa said dramatically as he held the umbrella steady over your head, “you know i was calling you a lot, but you weren’t answering, i was worried sick, baby.”

“my.. phone died,” your mouth went agape, you were flabbergasted that he came all the way here to look for you, that you weren’t completely registering everything that was happening, so you blurt out your first observation, “get up from the ground, it’s wet and dirty,” you scolded.

“not important right now,” he says, “why did you run off here hm?” oikawa observes your face to check if there were any tear stains mixed in with the rain drops.

“i just wanted time alone,” you reply, looking to the side to avoid his gaze again.

“why did you just sit here in the rain?” he asks.

“the nearest shop is too far,” you mumble, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt as you persistently avoid his gaze as much as you can.

oikawa found it a bit funny how it was just so you to not seek shelter just because it wasn’t worth your energy, but he didn’t get to ponder much on how amusing it is because he didn’t like that you won’t meet him in the eye, “did my darling cry?”

that made you look at him, to give him a piercing glare, but at least you looked at him, “i didn’t cry.”

oikawa felt that the mood was too gloomy, he couldn’t help but tease you, “my crybaby didn’t cry?”

“shut up,” you tried kicking him but accidentally splashed him with water instead. you looked apologetic but you didn’t say the words outright.

“hey! you’re the one that said that was dirty but you’re splashing me with it?” oikawa seemed amused though, he was even laughing, “come on, are you so sorry that you can’t look at me, baby?”

you ignore him.

“darling,” he calls, using his free hand to poke your waist.

you ignore him still.

“darling,” he started to poke you continuously, “[name], baby.”

you felt a tick on your forehead.

“darling, darling, darling,” he kept poking you with a little smirk on his face and continued to chant ��darling’ without a hitch.

“you’re so annoying, tooru!” you were irritated with him now.

oikawa began to laugh uncontrollably, he laughed so hard that he was practically sitting on the ground now. he just thought that you were so cute, he couldn’t help it. meanwhile you started getting very annoyed at his laughter that you splashed him with the rainwater, this time very much intentional. he took this as the cue that he should stand up, you felt a bit bad, oikawa looked a bit roughed up, and he was still holding the umbrella over you. you were too lost in thinking about his actions that you didn’t know how to react when he splashed you with water.

“tooru!” you shouted and stood up from the stupid bench, hitting yourself with the umbrella in the process, “oh my god!” you splashed him again with water in irritation.

oikawa instinctively stepped back and dropped the umbrella, still laughing. you stomped over to hit him on the arm constantly, and he started to back off from you, “baby stop,” he said in a fit of laughter.

he started to run back to be free of your wrath and you ran after him, biting your lower lip to cage in the incoming smile. the both of you made a strange picture right now, two grown adults chasing each other around in the rain.

“come here, oikawa tooru!” you were annoyed at how he could easily dodge your ‘attacks’.

oikawa stopped running away and slowly started walking towards you again, a wide grin on his face, “what my darling wants, she gets,” he states once he was directly in front of you. he caught your wrists before you could hit him again, “are you ready to talk now?”

you took a deep breath, “i am soaking wet from the rain, you made me run around, and it’s still raining and we just looked like total idiots,” you shook your hands, signaling him to let them go and he does. you wrapped your arms around his neck—pulling him closer to you— instead of letting them fall to your sides, which is an action that startled oikawa, “and i don’t know why, but it strangely made me feel better, so yeah, i’m ready to talk now.”

oikawa felt a nice buzz go through his system when you touched him, a sharp intake of breath, “so…?”

“i don’t like feeling like i don’t have the right to call you mine,” he was about to say something but you lifted one of the arms that were wrapped around his neck to use a hand so you could shush him. “it’s childish, and i feel awful that i’m feeling like this. i just wanted some time alone and i also want to point out that you’re not doing anything wrong, it’s just a ‘me’ thing. like i’m getting jealous of alisa and she’s lovely so i feel horrible, and i’m also getting jealous of other people you might have been in similar situations with that isn’t for acting. it’s not because i don’t trust you, i do. it’s just there’s so many people out there, how are you sure i’m the one for you?”

you glanced at his face to check for his reaction, you could tell he wanted to oppose you yet he followed your wishes and was listening to you intently, “i have a lot of problems with my self-esteem, trying to control my emotions, my attitude, and a lot of other not very nice things. i’m trying really hard to be better, for me and for you,” your voice becomes quieter at the end, you clear your throat, “that’s… that’s it.”

“[name]...” oikawa started, “i’m here no matter what, i’d stay no matter what, so i want you to know that i’m going to be beside you, always, whenever you need me.”

“i always need you,” you uttered it so low that oikawa almost didn’t catch it.

it made him melt, you make him feel so wanted and loved, “[name], i’m so in love with you and you’re the only—”

you crash your lips into his, it was so sudden that oikawa was frozen in place. you didn’t care that it was raining or that you were in a park, and this really wasn’t the right time to be confessing and kissing but here you both were. when you were about to pull away, oikawa chases your lips, it was as if he was in a trance. he grips your hips to keep you near and your arms wrapped around his neck pull him even closer. he kisses you with so much fervor and longing, you kiss him back with the same intensity.

it took a lot of willpower to pull away, “that was…” you were panting when you let go of him, oikawa almost immediately missed the warmth your touch gave, “..supposed to be just a peck.”

oikawa was staring at you intently, his eyes held hundreds and thousands of things he wanted to say. how much he adored you, how much he longed to be with you for the past years, how he wanted to tell you that there was never anyone else and there will never be anyone else because you’re the only one for him. no one would ever understand him as much as you do, no one would be able to give him comparable care and affection.

he would only ever yearn for you.

“i want more,” oikawa mumbles before reaching for you again. his hands rose from your hips to cup your face and he kissed you again. he couldn’t get enough of you, as usual.

“tooru i—” you gasp, he swallows your words with his lips. it didn’t take you long to forget about what you were going to say and let yourself get lost in him.

you were lost in each other.

the shutter of a camera was clicked from a distance.

@distanse BREAKING: Actor #OikawaTooru rumored to be romantically linked with an unknown woman, who is she and is our favorite charmer actually taken? Find out More!

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun facts !

akaashi woke up to a series of messages from oikawa begging him to tell what [name]'s favorite places near campus are and where he would usually see her if she's not at her dorm.

kuroo was invited into another stream of kenma's the night before where they played minecraft and started a roleplay-ish drama with their characters.

tsukki's current favorite song is perfect night by le sserafim (ofc it is he's a fearnot)

bokuto adopted a ladybug today.

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — who accidentally writes 6k words?? (this gal !!) anyways happy holidays my darlings !!! i miss u all how r u? (also did you guys spot the taylor swift reference? i couldn't help myself)

taglist is closed ! + (1/2) @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @komzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @renardiererin @yyuiz @llamakenma @penguinlovestowrite @princelingperfect @hearts4faey @yoonabeo @pantherhappy @julia-1901 @godsbiggestmenace @angel-luv-04 @noideawhothatis @bethbat @natsvmie @luna-mothii @lylovw @apinu @leave-rae-alone @kamikokii @bananasquash @eitaababe @minimari415 @hanabihwa @nilopillo

[teenagegirl-forever]

currently working on a model fitz x pop star dex au…

extra details i couldn’t sneak in!!!:

“the black swan” is a girl band consisting of marella, linh, stina, and maruca. just haven’t gotten round to sketching out their page lol

they’re inspired by the last dinner party!!

in the same vein, sophie’s career is very much inspired by olivia rodrigo, i stuck dex into disney with her because i thought it was funny.

haven’t gotten around to keefe yet either, in my mind he’s childhood friends with fitz and biana, and his dad manages the business side of their modelling careers (he wants keefe to also go into the business side, but keefe now goes to fashion school) - note: may be inconsistent with things revealed about cassius in unraveled. tbh i don’t care, let me have my fun 😭

tam is the tour manager for the here, forever tour

the vackers are still nepo babies. alden and della are very famous models.

[cull3nblaze]

Model AU? 👀

[luckyartdrawer]

One shot collection :3

Ch 1. Fashion/Model AU

vvvv Summary, extras, and yapping (as usual) below! vvvv

Sun and Moon are not related and have more of a rivalry and frienemy dynamic. They're definitely close to one another, but get on each other's nerves easily, especially over you! ;)

If you don't like love triangles, this might not be for you. I'd say it's closer to a true love triangle (where it's reciprocated on all sides) but it's the stage where everyone is just friendly with each other.

⚠️ Warning!: There is some suggestive dialogue and heavy flirting, as well as minor use of cussing and slightly suggestive actions. This is SFW, just a bit spicy.

Sketch

i was so proud of the arms that I took a progress screenshot-

I adore these goobers so much. They got such a good dynamic but I got no story for themmmmm AAA

Still, wanted to draw them. Killing two birds with one stone by putting the fic with the art lol. I might do that with all the one shots, since it's unlikely to be repetitive work...

Hm

I might sneak back to this post and clean up the art when no one is looking heheehe-

It's just really late when I'm posting and I wanted to get something out for comment day. Gonna make sure to do my part in both aspects ✨

Still working on my other fics btw. I'm just dedicating myself to at least almost finish some of em before I start posting regularly again. <3

[facioleeknow]

Time for love ° Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin. the immortal Adonis, falls for a human.

WC: 2094 Genre: Greek mythology AU, angst, smut

TW: make up artist reader, model hyunjin, smut, masturbation, thigh riding, handjob, mention of cum, borderline asshole hyunjin, greek gods and goddesses, mention of blood, angry hyunjin and angry deities

AN: thank you from th ebottom of my heart to th elovely @leeknowsallyoursecrets , for giving me her opinion about this.

My Kofi if you want to support me <3.

Hyunjin was old. Hyunjin was really really old. Eternal youth they called it. When one thinks about youth, they imagine freshness and fun; a colorful, colorful phase when you get to try new things and explore the world. Hyunjin’s life was anything but; he had seen every corner of this earth and tried every experience that was humanly possible. His life was flat and gray, there was nothing more to do and he was bored.

He remembered his first life. His name was Adonis and he was considered the most beautiful man in the whole world; he was so beautiful that goddesses soon appeared on his doorstep and asked to share his bed. That’s how his story became myth, or what people thought it was.

He had lived many lives from then, he had taken many names and done many things, he lived a tranquil life and minded his business; had sometimes taken a couple of lovers but nothing that had stuck to him. 

His life and pattern of change had come crumbling apart when one day the gods decided to come out in the open and introduce themselves to humans. With time everything was uncovered and the protagonists of every myth became their own kind of celebrities. He had never been more famous in his life, but he also had never been more lonely. He was beautiful and that was a fact, and with the fame came the modeling offers. He modeled for the most famous maisons of fashion of the world and people loved him. No they didn’t love him, they loved his body, they loved his face, they loved his fake smile and fake confidence.

His days were always the same, he would wake up at an insane hour, get on set, get ready, shoot, get unready, check social media and then go to bed, just to do it all the following day. Day after day the cycle had never been broken, for years on end. Until it had.

When he walked inside the photo studio, he could sense something had shifted in the air. He hated changes. A heavy hand smoothed back his unruly hair, his eyes closed almost on instinct after he sat down in his makeup chair. He had requested a special chair, made of one of the softest furs he had ever touched, where he could sleep and relax.

Something warm and small suddenly touched his shoulder, hesitantly. He hissed and his eyes shot open, his staff knew better than to interfere with his pattern. 

His breath hitched in his throat when he opened his eyes. This wasn’t his usual make-up artist.

“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Hwang, I am Y/N L/N, your new makeup artist,” your voice was sweet, way too sweet to be human, but he knew all deities by heart. Perhaps some kind of creature.

“What happened to Ha-na?” his eyes bore holes into your skull, his gaze held a fiery passion you had never seen in your life. Is this how an immortal looks?, you thought.

“She’s on maternity leave, sir,” you had never felt that nervous in your life.

The conversation died off after that but his eyes were fixed on you. There was something about you that Hyunjin couldn't quite pinpoint, his inside felt like they were lit on fire. His head told him that if he looked away from you, something bad would've happened. He had to have you, one way or another, he didn't even care if you were human or not.

Since that day Hyunjin had always waited anxiously for your arrival every morning. You would always greet him with a tight lipped smile while you closed into fists your obvious shaky hands. He liked to think your hands were shaking and your heart was beating out of your chest because of him. 

At night Hyunjin would lie awake and think about you, your hair, your lips, your hands, your eyes, but most of the time he would think about what laid under your clothes, how your curves would look and how they would feel in his big and soft hands.

He had to have you, he didn't care if you were human or not.

The second time Hyunjin spoke to you, it was weeks after your first encounter.

“What are you?” his eyes bored into yours like the first time you met.

 “What do you mean sir?” 

His presence felt almost overbearing, it looked like he was towering over you, it felt like he was everywhere, you couldn't run from him. But in reality he was still sitting in front of you.

“Don't play coy. What kind of creature are you?” 

“Creature? I'm human, sir,” your eyes wide as saucers at his assumption. You? A supernatural creature? 

“Are you lying to me?” His tone was stern and demanding.

“No, sir, I would never.” 

He didn't reply.

He was scary. Immortals were scary and dangerous for humans more than anyone else. You should've been fearful of him but a familiar throb between your legs kept growing and growing and you couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Hyunjin could feel your arousal, he could read it on your face. After centuries he could read human emotions quite well.

“Everybody out!” His tone left no space for arguments. The staff and photographers scurried out of the room with their hearts in their throats.

“Come sit.” The immortal patted his spread legs, his big hand encased your wrist.

“Excuse me?”

“You don't want to?” he sounded cocky now, a new emotion he let you see.

“I didn't say that,” you stuttered.

“Then be a good girl and straddle my thigh.” 

His hands never left your body, not even when you complied and positioned yourself how he asked. He was in control, he was the one guiding your movement.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt him ground you on his strong thigh.

“Please sir, touch me,” the shame fueled your pleasure like never before.

“No can do, get yourself off like this or don't at all.”

That was the best orgasm of your life.

After he touched you, Hyunjin couldn't get enough of you. He thought your voice was sweet at first, but your moans were even sweeter, your skin tasted like nectar and your pussy like ambrosia. He was addicted.

Sleep came easier to him now but not even in your dreams he could escape you. Your voice, your sweet whines, your skin, your scent, they all clouded his brain even in his slumber. He'd wake up hard as a rock every night and leaking. He would fuck his fist roughly, just how he liked it, he would use all of his toys and cum again and again until his seed had permanently stained his satin black sheets. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. He had to feel you clench around him, he had to feel you rake your nails down his back, he had to push your legs to your chest and see fat tears roll down your cheeks.

So he would get up and drive to your house where he would fuck you until you both passed out. It became some sort of routine, one that he followed religiously. But the more he saw the bigger a foreign and strange feeling grew inside him. It started at the pit of his stomach and then spread through his chest like a warm blanket enveloping him in a tight hug. It was comforting and that unsettled him.

He was confused and ignorant, he hated that. But he knew that it didn't come from him, somebody was attacking him. That's how Hyunjin found himself in front of the goddess of love, Aphrodite, herself.

“What have you done to me?” he yelled. He knew yelling at a deity was not a smart move but the anger was consuming him, mixing with that strange feeling and making his blood hot.

“You cursed me, didn't you? You cursed me because I don't want to share a bed with you anymore, you selfish woman.” The moment those words came out of HYunjin’s mouth he regretted them. The room started shaking along with the anger of the goddess, everybody knew not to anger Aphrodite. he was foolish, he thought he could get away with it because he used to be her favorite lover. The goddess grew in stature, the light bulbs in the room exploded, leaving the only light her angry eyes. 

“You foolish human, how dare you speak to me like this,” this was not Aphrodite the goddess of love, this was the goddess of fiery passion and victory, “ I did not curse you. You do not hold significance in my eyes anymore, you are a mere human. Humans all fall in love, it’s their destiny.”

The walls of the pristine white room they were in started to crack under the gravity of the goddess full immortal form. Hyunjin knew that the fact he was not dead meant that Aphrodite let him live as a sign of charity and because of the time they shared their bed. But she did not give second chances, she never had so he quickly kneeled and when he felt the presence of the immortal get gradually less overbearing he got up and walked backwards until back hit the door as a sign of respect and then left. 

The drive home was pure madness, flashes of rage traveled through his body like lightning before leaving like nothing had happened. Hera was punishing him for angering her daughter, nothing was less expected from the goddess of family. When he stumbled into his house, with shaky hands he grabbed his ceremonial cup and offered his bloods to the gods to appease them and as a thanks for sparing his life.

The following day Hyunjin avoided looking at you in the eyes, he had never looked away from you, not even once. You were so used to having his fiery gaze on you that now your whole body felt cold as ice. 

‘Maybe he’s tired,’ you thought while you worked. Tired or not, you felt him miles away from you even if you were touching his skin with your very own hands. Something had shifted between you. 

The next day felt like a deja vù, Hyunjin still had his eyes closed and he still refused to talk to you. You felt wronged and cold. The following days followed the same pattern, it felt like a terrible nightmare. His nightly visits had also stopped and so did his texts. 

Anger and frustration were eating away at you. Work had started to get tougher and Hyunjin’s attitude was making your mental health drop. The last straw was the pouring rain, you were stranded at work, with no umbrella, when all you wanted to do was go home, eat ice cream and sleep.

Fat teardrops started dropping down your cheeks, why was this all happening to you? Why couldn’t you live in peace? Why was Hwang Hyunjin doing this to you?

“Are you crying?” That voice. Hwang Hyunjin.

“That’s none of your business, Hyunjin,” you furiously wiped at your cheeks.

“It is,” his hand cupped your cheek and you had no strength to fight it, “ it is because you are the only woman i’ve ever loved in my long life.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Say that again.”

“You, “ he paused, “ are the only wo-”

You didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence, your lips attached to his and you richest deflated with relief. Kissing him felt familiar and natural. The recognizable desire that always lit within you when you were with him started spreading through you like wildfire. Your hands quickly traveled to his pants and unbuttoned his pants without thinking, you had done that countless times. His dick was already hard and leaking, waiting for you. Your soft hand wrapped around his velvety skin and tugged and moved just how you knew he liked, how you knew drove him mad. Your lips found his neck and nipped and sucked at his pulse point, his weak spot.

“Oh, baby, I’m not going to last, I think I’m cumming.”

A quick swipe of your thumb against his slip made him spill all over your hand, his head thrown back in ecstasy and his eyes tightly shut.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, lover, but first let me return the favor.” 

A hand on his chest stopped him.

“Take me on a date first.”

“Whatever you want, lover.”

[st4vk1nmybra1n]

Muse.

Pairing: Model!Gojo x sculpturist!reader

Wc: 7k!

Cont: fluff, (sort of) slowburn, friends to lovers, part two of my previous model!gojo x reader, can be read as a standalone fic! Ending alludes to a separate fic with geto x reader bcs i can't resist it..

author's note: Contains in-depth information about how I perceive both gojo and geto’s (and even reader's) way of expressing art. In depth talks about their upbringings and backgrounds, amateur’s take on art so please feel free to provide feedback!! Comments are very much appreciated! Overall just very long and detailed fic. Please enjoy <33

Geto Suguru wasn't a man who put himself out there for the world. Unlike his friend, Satoru, Suguru was more to himself. He wasn't reserved, per se. He just had a greater preference to keep his theatrics and jokes to his friend group. Don’t get him wrong, he loves annoying his friends as much as his best friend, but he preferred to keep that side of him as something mainly for his friends. Unless it slipped out in the moment, Suguru wasn't going to tease or get overly cheeky. That’s just how he was. Not that it mattered much, though. He wasn’t the famous one, that was Satoru! And really, he was happier this way. He was content with his life so far, and he didn’t have the desire to change that aspect.

Being Gojo Satoru’s bestest friend ever (Satoru’s words, not his) came with a little bit of attention, regardless of whether it was something you wanted. And when you’re as alluring as Suguru, it’s inevitable! He’d had multiple offers in commercials and photoshoots, as nobody seemed to be immune to his charm. Maybe Satoru was getting to his head, but Suguru likes to think he has his own good looks that people seek out. He was almost the opposite visual of his friend, funnily enough. While Satoru had short, snowy white hair, Suguru had long, black tresses. While Satoru had frosty lashes, and big, bright blue eyes, Suguru had slanted, smaller and darker eyes. Though when the sun hits, they seem to have a purple gleam to them. While Satoru had milky, pale and untouched skin, Suguru had tan skin, rough at the hands, piercings in his ears and on his lips, along with a few scattered, intricate tattoos over the skin on his arms and back, his entire frame littered all over with freckles and moles. While satoru’s build was tall, lanky yet still well muscled, suguru’s build was an inch or two shorter, but more muscled. Even despite such differences, the two paired well together, contrasting the other beautifully.

It was clear there weren't many similarities in their looks besides the fact that the media thirsted over the fact that the both of them were hot. Another common interest was teasing and annoying their friends together, though Suguru tended to tire out of the activity 10 minutes in, only to sabotage Satoru and start bullying him. Another thing the two could silently agree on was their appreciation of art. Art, a form of expression that captures the beauty and essence of the object of one’s affection or fascination. While the two had different preferences for the type of art they enjoyed, they could appreciate the other’s outlook, even sometimes gaining an interest in it.

Satoru admired the art of a physical muse, the art of presenting a face or a body in a manner that captivates the viewer. The idea of filmography, photography, drawing, painting, and sculpting statues being centered around a physical being was something that made him feel alive. The ways of capturing a creature in so many colors, so many emotions. It all appealed to him. The sensuality of a sculpture or a photograph shot at just the right angle that made it a phenomenal art piece is something that always stood out to him. Sensuality and sexuality was something that Satoru considered natural, it didn’t phase him or arouse him in most circumstances, it only ignited a sense of admiration and appreciation for art. Satoru was confident in his sexuality, he held the form of expression to high regards, often channeling the feeling whenever he modeled.

Suguru on the other hand, had an appreciation for art that presented in the form of something non-human, yet so humane. Capturing the beauty of scenic views in a painting, or in a photograph or drawing was what stood out most to him. To see the ways one could imagine the same exact thing. While colors were great, he preferred neutrality, minimal color. Even with the lack of bursting and animated pops of color, grasping an object in the palm of your hand and honing it in the way you envision is more satisfying than he’d like to admit. That was the main reason he owned a tattoo and piercing parlor, to be able to engrave his art in the form of ink onto someone else for them to share that sense of admiration. It brought him joy, more than anything. Aside from doing tattoos and piercings, he did photography on the side with Satoru as his main muse. Satoru had a look to him that was just enough to stand out perfectly in front of plain colors, making suguru’s photography easy on the eyes and minimal. Perfect enough to satisfy both their preferences.

It was an arrangement the two had since they were 16, starting soon after the two had become friends. Suguru seldom captured shots of his other friends too, but Satoru had an annoying tendency to actually boost Suguru’s inspiration to create art. The two would constantly inspire the other to work, continuously driving one another to be at their fullest potential. They were stubborn as hell too, always wanting their own way instead of what the other wanted. Though as always, they would come to a sort of compromise, creating a mesh between their two styles and medium. Though, Satoru preferred to be the object of someone's desire, wanting art to live on vicariously through his body, using it as a vessel to perform and present himself as someone's muse, a piece styled and perfected so tediously to how one envisioned him to be fitting, while Suguru had a knack for capturing said art.

Suguru came from quite a liberalized background, his parents being way more laid back and open minded than the average family in japan. For that sole reason, Suguru was able to express himself adequately and comfortably, and he was quite self aware and emotionally intelligent. Having such a freedom to think, and understanding the weight of that trust his parents bestowed upon him from giving him room for self expression made him even more conscious of the decisions he took and put time into. He was quite comfortable in his identity, and had no qualms against discussing topics that many may consider taboo. That's just how he was, what else could he say?

Now on the other end of the spectrum, Satoru was brought up very traditionally and conservatively. The Gojo family was a well known family amongst your everyday crowd. Derogatory and narrow-minded statements were shoved down Satoru's throat routinely, irritating him to no end. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that women weren't inferior, or that anybody who wasn't a "pure" japanese was a disgrace. Things like these were common knowledge to him by the age of 7, and he frankly couldn't care less about how the higher ups in his clan felt about women showing their ankles. Modesty and impurity were just, and anything else was blasphemous and an insult in the Gojo estate. Of course, Satoru didn't agree. So when he had met Geto Suguru, who had asked Satoru for a mini photoshoot, the white haired male agreed.

But what he didn't expect was to be handed a tight fit tank top. He wasn't uncomfortable by any means, just surprised. It was a pleasant surprise compared to the loose, traditional clothing he was forced to wear. Suguru was quite well versed in the latest of fashion trends, and Satoru was eager to learn more and change up his wardrobe in hopes of irritating the higher ups. Sooner or later, he got his first professional modeling gig. For the shoot, he wore white, loose cloth draped over his frame. Depicting him as angelic. That in itself was blasphemous, but the lack of coverage from the cloth would probably incite even more outrage amongst the elders of the Gojo clan. Belatedly, he'd realize just how happy he felt with the end result of his photoshoot. What once was an act of getting under the skin of his relatives, became an outlet of self expression that he never got to let out.

No sooner than later, Gojo Satoru had risen to fame, and was known as one of the most beautiful men out there, and he relished in the attention and the excitement he felt of being seen in such a light. The feeling of expensive silk garments draped over him, or the lack thereof, was exhilarating. Giving him the endorphins rush he craved constantly. The intricacy behind being styled with shawls and robes of fabric, or with minimal fabric, maybe something more daring like chains placed against his skin strategically, the glint of the metal against his skin only highlighting his milky skin. Sometimes in intricate, strappy belts or ropes around his frame. While daring and promiscuous, he was never opposed. He liked the idea of being presented to the world in many ways. He knew he looked good, anyway.

On the other hand, there was you; while not much of a model, you had a keen eye for arts like your two friends. You were a sculpturist; meticulously carving and molding out figures and statues with utmost dedication. You enjoyed working in the field, and it paid well enough. Sure, it was fun to paint and draw, but you much preferred sculpting. To bring a creation to life by creating a proper vessel in a three-dimensional form, was something else of its own.

You lived a life that seemed to be pretty ordinary, up in the beginning at least. Your parents weren't completely strict, they were pretty okay with most of your decisions. Alas, you grew up getting to indulge in your interests to a certain degree. That was only amplified when you'd made your friends in highschool. Having friends like Suguru, Satoru, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara and Utahime; it was nice. You guys were always close, pushing one another to do better than the last time. That's just how it was. You were close with Shoko and Satoru the most, finding yourself easily conversing with the two at all times. Not that you couldn't with the rest, but you just felt a click with the two.

And of course, overtime, that grew into something more with Satoru. It was like you were attached at the hip at times, running around the whole area surrounding your guys’ school to explore and find things to entertain yourself with. On some occasions, Suguru would join you. On those days, he and Satoru would look around for things to photograph, maybe use as a backdrop for their photography. On the days it was just you and Satoru, you both would wander around aimlessly, talking about anything and everything. Often, you'd talk about Satoru's shitty family, and his love and passion for beauty. You talked about your future and its possibilities, about what you wanted to do and what you saw yourself doing. Of course, it changed over the course of the years. Satoru had wanted to be seen by the world; perhaps as an actor. That stayed for a while, until he was cast for a modeling gig later on.

You had always been uncertain of your future, trying hard not to think about it too much, to avoid thinking way too much into the future. You preferred living in the present, alongside your friends. It was on one certain day during a sculpting class you had that you took often, where you were working on expressions. Making sculptures look realistic went hand in hand with learning the ins and outs of the body– understanding bodily anatomy was necessary for a detailed creation, and you were stubborn. When you started something, you needed to be good at it. Good enough to be proud of your work. And that took effort. So you dedicated hours and hours to sculpting. Working meticulously on your current piece, you thought deeply about how you wanted to do these features.

Carefully, you had sliced some clay from the face, smoothing it down to blend in seamlessly with the rest of the features. You carefully sculpted out the nose as well. Small, pointed with a soft slope going from the top to the tip. You carefully blurred out the lip lines, making a softer Cupid's bow. You defined the philtrum, carefully pressing into it. Then, you worked on sharpening the jawline, yet making it feel as human as it could be. After an hour or so of working on those details, you snap out of your trance with a sigh. You pull away, inhaling sharply at the work in front of you. Belatedly, you realized how similar it looked to your friend, Satoru. You were enchanted by it. You'd drawn and painted your friends before, but to create a human-like head so similar to one of your friends, like a statue signifying their importance to you– it was something you'd never thought to do.

When learning how to draw expressions and faces, you had to practice creating ethnic features and unique qualities, just to perfect the art of diversity. This was your first time creating a piece inspired by your friend. At least in the form of clay. And it was beautiful. You had dedicated hours and hours to this piece, and it was like you were short of breath as you saw this. It was unlike anything you'd envisioned before. That was the moment you had realized just how much you loved doing this. And as you sat alone in your class, having been the last to stay, you gazed upon your creation, your heartbeat accelerating just at the beautiful sight of it. Your friend was gorgeous, but creating this piece was like taking a piece of him from your memories, etching him upon the canvas that was the clay. In a way, you felt your love for said friend to grow more and more. The whole process felt more and more intimate, dedicating time to a statue of your friend. It wasn't just a regular drawing or painting, this was a piece of your heart, your blood, your sweat, and even your tears. The realization that you finally felt sure about what you wanted to do– it warmed your heart, your eyes growing cloudy with tears.

“Ah. You've finished. It's beautiful. This is your friend, is it not? Satoru, was it?” Your teacher had asked, to which you blinked, letting out a laugh and a nod as you wiped your eyes. It was. And the fact that it was recognizable not just to you but to other onlookers had made you feel accomplished. You sat there in silence, staring upon your work for half an hour after you'd finished, just taking it in. Eventually, you'd packed up your things and gone back home, still dazed from the burst of emotions it had caused you. But that was just the start of your obsession, and you only grew more and more dedicated to your craft. And eventually, you too had found what you'd wanted to do, just like your friend and your muse, Satoru.

The studio you worked in was spacious, quite empty, built reminiscent of an actual museum. You had a few occasional pieces around in the studio, consisting of statues of your friends and a few more abstract pieces here and there. Adding to the ambience of your work, it made for a peaceful environment and a great space. You seldom had visitors in the building, with the exception of your friends Suguru and Satoru, and Shoko on those days she wasn't busy. Occasionally you saw Nanami, Haibara, Utahime and even Megumi and his friends drop by. You were never opposed to visitors, finding it a pleasant change to the melodies you'd often be playing. You worked with music playing in the background, though you preferred to have it pretty quiet, just as background noise. Like tunes blasting in from a neighbor's house. It was a comforting sound, much better than risking your hearing with your song on full volume, as you worked. Not that you didn't blast music, no. You just preferred to keep it quiet as you worked.

Your sculptures consisted of random objects and trinkets for your friends and family, and some even for yourself. Some detailed china; though only for the sake of decor. Occasionally, you get commissions for your stuff to be displayed in lavish stores or museums. It was easy money for you! A good chunk of your work consisted of commissions from the upper class looking to have their lovers portrayed in the most romantic ways one could imagine– As a statue, reminiscent of times where artists would create a masterpiece of their muse. How romantic it is, indeed. But instead of the rich creating it themselves, they simply paid you to do the deed. And so you did! Not that you had qualms against doing so. You know the intentions behind the act itself is from a place of love and adoration, and if you can encapsulate the beauty of someone’s eternal love, then so be it. It almost felt like playing cupid, working your magic into each press of your fingers into the clay.

Sculpting can take days, weeks, and even months. But you preferred to take your time to perfect your creation. You found fascination in each piece you made. Sensual, thoughtful, innocent, small, cute, detailed. It didn't matter to you, you'd always find something interesting about each piece. You worked with a genuine care and devotion to each and every piece, finding yourself falling in love with them all to some extent. It was an intimate process through and through. To receive a request from someone willing to spend a fortune, just for a statue of someone they love so dearly. And so you built it up from the bones and flesh, encapsulating each detail with precision. And after weeks and maybe even months, seeing the fruit of your labor was a feeling like no other. It left you feeling many many emotions, being able to do something so special for others.

Just a day ago, you sat in your studio, surrounded by paints and a small sculpture. Just of a head, reaching to the shoulders. For practice, you reasoned. You'd been free from any commissions for just a few days, so you had decided to create a small sculpture. With your hands covered in wet clay, you had reached out, creating dips and dents in the face wherever you saw fit. Brows furrowed in concentration, you carefully and slowly reached forward, adding just a bit more clay to the cheekbones, huffing in satisfaction.

Now, with the sculpture dried and perfected, you sat and stared at it, pondering where you could go with it. Or well– you partially lied. You knew exactly where this was going, as you usually knew with all your pieces. This certain one had been created with a person already in mind, biting your thumb in concentration as you hummed, looking over your colors, then back at the sculpture. Carefully, you grabbed a few tones of colors, beginning to create the shade for the skin. Slowly but surely, you brought your creation into life, reviving it with color. High cheekbones dusted with a light flush, pale milky skin laid down against the canvas of the face. Bright, electric blue eyes, and platinum blonde, almost white hair. You meticulously shaded each and every part, deep in your focus.

As you start finishing up on the details a few hours later, adding more color to the plump lips, and carefully coating the sculpture’s lashes with white, you're slightly startled by the sound of a familiar voice. Very familiar. And as you leaned closer to add a few details, you looked into the one unveiled eye, feeling warmth spread through your heart, through your veins. The familiarity in the creation always left you feeling cozy and comforted.

“Hope you aren't too busy! Just felt like dropping by– oh hey, that's me, isn't it?” Crooned the voice of Gojo Satoru, the man your current sculpture was inspired by. You turn to face him, giving him a small smile and a nod.

“Yeah, it is.” You affirmed, wiping your face against the sleeve of your shirt, carefully avoiding the touch of your hands against your face and clothes.

“What's the occasion? Finally decided to dedicate your studio to me or what?” Satoru teased, sitting down beside you, to which you laughed.

“Not really. And do I need an occasion? I mean, you've got the perfect face to be my muse, why wouldn't I sculpt out something inspired by you.” You stated, as if it were the most obvious thing ever. Satoru looked upon you with raised brows, otherwise not speaking as he stared on. Not that he'd never heard such words. He had, quite a few times. But to hear it from you– and to see the dedication and admiration behind each detail, each carefully molded and dented feature of his face, it made him fall deeper and deeper into you. You had drawn white bandages wrapped around his head and over one of his eyes, the other carefully yet methodically uncovered, revealing the details behind his eyes.

In your other statue of him, you'd added his signature glasses. Most people keep his eyes uncovered when he models. Not that you covered his eyes up, no. You made sure to make his eyes equal to every other feature on his face. Sure, they were striking as ever to you and everyone else on this planet, but when you spend so much time around him, you realize how beautiful every part of him is. To you, each and every detail on his face is ethereal. And your work portrays that.

His eyes stood out always, but they were always accentuated in his shoots. But in your portraits of him, you made sure they stood out as they did when he sat on your bed, with the rest of his friends surrounding him. The way his eyes would stand out when he'd race with Suguru out on the fields in school, while you, shoko, nanami and haibara sat around, laughing lightly at the banter occurring between Suguru and him.

“You know, you really are something else,” Satoru mused as he snapped out his thoughts, glancing at the tower of paint that accumulated on your palette.

“You think so?” You cooed teasingly, nudging him slightly as you carefully began to clear up your space, letting the piece begin drying.

“Seriously, what's with you and this sudden sculpture of me? I mean, I'm not opposed to you.. sculpting me like I'm one of your french girls, but i thought you'd be busy creating pieces of young girls half naked for your rich clients that are way past their 60s.” He asked theatrically, dramatizing his words as he always did.

“I had free time. And I did it because I felt like it. You're just nice to sculpt, what can I say?” You answered back, tone cheeky yet sincere as you leaned your head against your palm, giving him a smile. He balked, scoffing with a laugh.

“You've got paint on your face now.” Satoru muttered out, tone laced in adoration. You blink, pulling away your hand to glance at the paint, gazing at it for a moment, letting out an ‘oh’. He chuckled once more, grabbing your water bottle from beside you, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket as he began to pour some water over it. He carefully closed the bottle, turning to you. He gently grasped your chin in his hand, the other hand bringing the handkerchief to your face, dabbing away the paint from your cheek and the side of your chin. He then takes your hands into his own, pouring some water over them, using the handkerchief to pat down the water and clean up the excess paint. Once finished, he tucked away the dirtied handkerchief, running a thumb over your cheek before pulling away.

“C’mon, let's go home. I'm tired, and it's late now. You still got the food from yesterday in your fridge, right? I'll just microwave that for us.” He urged, holding out his hand to you. You glanced up, blinking slightly before you broke out into a grin, grabbing his hand as you pulled yourself up, intentionally trying to pull him down in the process. Though it does nothing to falter him, and instead he gives you a playful glare, clicking his tongue.

“Did I mention I think your sculpture today was beautiful?” Satoru had started once you both had settled down on the couch in your apartment, watching tv as you enjoyed your leftovers.

“Yeah? Because it's you?” You had teased, grabbing another bite of the day old spaghetti.

“No. Because it's you. I mean– it's something you made. It's me. But made by you. Who couldn't find it beautiful?” He spoke softly, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Though it's also because I'm beautiful, yeah.” He added, grin becoming larger. You rolled your eyes lightheartedly, watching him shove a huge forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

“What's with all this sappy stuff, huh?” You shook your head, grabbing your glass of water to take a sip.

“Maybe you just make me a sap.” Satoru spoke with concealed sincerity, glancing up to see your reaction. Your lips quirked up in the slightest, though you didn't say much.

“You just say that to all our friends, or what?” You asked, placing your finished plate of food onto the table. You grabbed a tissue, wiping your lips clean.

“Nah. Just you.” Satoru answered honestly, this time not bothering with veiling his words. You were special to him. All his friends were in their own ways, but the adoration he held for you was unmatched for anyone else.

“Wow. Am I supposed to be flattered?” You asked sarcastically, to which Satoru spluttered. He blinked, deciding that now was probably a good time to confess. He opens his mouth to start, clearing his throat.

“Hey..” he started slowly, the softness of his voice immediately sticking out to you. Before he can continue, you both are interrupted by a knock on the door, and the familiar voice of haibara.

You sigh, grabbing yours and his plates, yelling out a ‘coming!’ to your incoming visitors. You quickly placed the plates by the sink, rushing to the door to open it.

“There you are! We brought cookies!” Haibara greeted you with a quick hug, followed by Nanami, Shoko, and Suguru. “We visited your studio, but it seems you're not pulling an all-nighter today.” He added, waving as he spotted Satoru.

“Yeah. I don't have any pieces to work on right now.” You answered, locking the door behind you as you walked back into your lounge, taking your seat again as the group claimed their own spots on your couches.

“What brings you guys here?” You asked, carefully opening the box of cookies they brought along. You grab a classic chocolate chip cookie, sighing lightheartedly as you hold out the box to satoru, who had been glancing at the box eagerly. He grinned, grabbing the double chocolate chip cookie.

“I called Satoru earlier, he mentioned he was visiting you. So we decided to drop by your studio, guess you guys came back here.” Suguru explained, to which you nodded with a hum.

“Yeah. He dropped by as I was finishing off a piece. We came back home and just had some dinner and.. yeah.” You nodded, taking a bite out of the cookie as Suguru, observant as ever, raised a brow. It was clear there was more to the story, judging by Satoru's slight stiffness, and your slight concern. Perhaps they'd interrupted something.

“I thought you said you didn't have anything to work on?” Shoko asked, curious.

“None for my clients. But I got bored so I just decided to sculpt something of my own.” You explained, shrugging your shoulders. You glanced at Satoru, who had devoured his cookie, now glancing at you with a pleading gaze. You raised a brow, unimpressed. He blinked his lashes at you, to which you tilted your head at the box. He shook his head aggressively, eyes glaring at the chocolate chip cookie in your hands, watching you bite down on it. You groaned in exasperation, wordlessly handing it off to him. He cheered happily, taking a huge bite out of it.

“Oh, what did you make this time?” Nanami asked, showing genuine interest. He was kind and always interested in your works, asking you many questions regarding your pieces. He'd even bought you paints and equipment on your birthdays!

“Just a small sculpture. Head to shoulders. Based off of Satoru. It's currently drying, I'll show you guys tomorrow.” You grinned happily, taking pride at any opportunities to present your works to your friends. At this, both Shoko and Suguru shared a glance, as if having a silent agreement.

“I see.. interesting choice, I suppose..” Nanami mumbled, his expression of disdain evident. Satoru gasped in offense, placing his hand over his chest.

“I'm the best choice! Have you seen me?” Satoru retorted sassily, crossing his arms. You let out a laugh, glancing between the two. You turn to Satoru, admiring his every feature and etching it into your brain, just so you can make your next statue of him even better. You take note of the contours of his face. The curve of his small nose, the curl of his lashes, the natural pout of his plump lips, the set of high cheekbones dusted with the faintest of flush. His cheeks looked soft.

Abruptly, you lean forward, poking your finger against his cheek. He yelps, glancing at you in disbelief.

“What was that for?!” He asked, whining in pain. You let out a laugh, unable to hold back your laughter from how funny the whole situation was.

“I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist!” you gasped out between bouts of laughter, not realizing the way his whining stops as he admires you, eyes softening as a smile takes over his own face.

Suguru observed further, sighing internally. He wasn't oblivious to the two pining over each other, and it seemed the rest of the group wasn't either. Even Haibara could tell something was happening there! And that's a big deal. Suguru knew his best friend had felt this way for the longest way. It was obviously in the way he admired you, obvious in the way he sought you out in a crowd before anyone else. Obvious in the way he glanced at you after telling a joke or saying something he felt was smart. He and Satoru were good friends, yes, but even Suguru could recognize there was something more to Satoru's relationship with you. You both were a constant in each other's lives, with you being present for a lot of Satoru's shoots and interviews. You knew him like no other, and it showed in the way you sometimes chimed in to answer a question, or when you talked and boasted about Satoru. Satoru came over to your studio a lot to unwind, just sitting and watching you add the details to your masterpieces. He'd tried to pick up sculpting alongside you, but the struggle was much too real for him. He preferred to just have himself be the canvas of his art. That didn't change the way you two were so heavily involved in the other's life, it was like you couldn't function properly without the other at times. If only you two would just kiss and get it over with already!

And so you sat, with one leg crossed over the other, eyes focused on Satoru as he finished up a shoot of his.

“Just tilt your head up in the slightest.. perfect, and push your shoulders back.. there we go..” the photographer spoke, the constant click of the camera sounding out in the otherwise quiet room.

“And we're done! Good work as always, Gojo.” The photographer praised, to which Satoru nodded, glancing towards your direction. You got up from your seat, approaching him with a bottle of water. In an instant, he chugs the liquid down his throat, breathing heavy as he finishes.

“I've got a short interview, then let's head home, yeah?” He murmurs, to which you nodded and grabbed the water bottle from his hand, patting his shoulder. They brought out a chair for him to sit on, the crew beginning a small interview for him during the shoot.

“So, how was your experience here, Gojo?” One person had asked, to which Satoru hummed, nodding his head as he thought about the question.

“It was nice, as always. The photographer and the whole crew were kind. Nothing special, it was okay.” He answered honestly, shrugging. “Any shoot is fun when my dearest friend is watching.” He added with a cheeky smile, to which you huffed.

“What he means is that he had a good time, and he's happy. If he were unhappy, he wouldn't even be sitting here right now. Consider that a win!” You added with a laugh, wanting to save his image of coming off too callous as always.

“It seems you're very close to your friend. Even closer than you are to Suguru Geto. What's that about?” The person asked, to which Satoru laughed out loud.

“What's that supposed to mean? I adore all my friends! This one's just the only one who seems to tolerate me the most. Suguru can be mean sometimes. I need a friend who'll join me when I'm joking around, Suguru just loves to humble me.” He answered, giving a wink towards the camera. The questions continued on, remaining pretty related to the shoot itself. Eventually, he finished up and began packing, his manager stopping him before he left to discuss tomorrow's schedule.

“So, what's on tomorrow's agenda?” You asked, to which Satoru sighed dramatically, grabbing your hand to drag you into the car.

“Don't even ask, honestly,” He sighed out, leaning back against the seat. He stretched out his arms, listening as you told the driver to drive to your studio. He opened his eyes, wordlessly raising a brow at you.

“Need to check on my sculpture, y’know?” You explained, to which he nodded, letting out a loud yawn as he let his head fall into your lap, grabbing your arm to place it over his closed eyes. You let your other hand run through his hair, combing through the locks, carefully brushing your fingers through it.

The drive wasn't very long, and you both quickly entered the space, Satoru's eyes flitting across the area to observe everything you'd ever created. He saw pieces of him and your friends, of dishes painted in careful designs and pots and other objects decorating the whole space. You quickly approached your most recent project, the one inspired by Satoru.

“It's dry.” You cheered, eyes carefully looking over the entire piece for anything out of place or incorrect. Once you finished, you let out a satisfied hum, placing the piece on one of the podiums to analyze it once more.

“Looks good, right?” You asked Satoru, eyes glancing up at him. He nodded wordlessly, eyes glancing back at the sculpture. It looked identical to him, but somehow, it felt even more gorgeous than how he looked, if that was even possible.

“Looks even better than how I look. How'd you manage that?” He asked, to which you laughed, nudging his side.

“What can I say? I just know you.” You answered fondly, gazing up at him. He looked back with a smile on his lips, eyes softening with adoration.

“Yeah. I guess you do.” He answered softly, eyes becoming more and more dazed as he took you in. You stared back, breaking eye contact as you leaned against him, sighing wistfully.

“You know, the whole reason I even started sculpting full time was because of you.” You spoke, to which Satoru looked at you with raised brows, having not heard this information before.

“It was during one of my classes. I just subconsciously started molding the clay to fit your features. I sat there for the longest time, just creating your features from each and every memory of you I had. And by the time I finished, I couldn't believe it. That was the first time I had fallen in love with sculpting.” ‘and you,’ you wished to add. Satoru remained silent, his breath catching in his throat at your words.

“It was the first piece I actually felt really proud of, and I stared at it for hours, just taking in the fact that I'd created something so beautiful. It was like I'd taken something from my heart and created a vessel for it. And that was when I'd realized that this was what I wanted to do. To this day, I still think back to that day. Hell, I even cried that day.” You laughed lightheartedly, shaking your head. “I realized so much that day, and I have you to thank for that. It's like you just constantly inspire me, Satoru. You really are my muse, you know?” You added, tone soft as you glanced up at him, meeting his eyes once more

Satoru remained speechless, in awe of the confession you'd just made. To hear those words from your mouth felt like you'd just poured out your heart to him. He swallowed shakily, letting out a deep breath.

“I'm in love with you,” He spoke out, tone completely serious and sincere. You blinked, eyes widening.

“What?” You asked, mouth opening. It's not that you didn't expect something like this. It was kind of obvious you two had something more, you just never got to addressing it. So to have him announce this out of the blue, it shocked you.

“I'm in love with you. I always have been. You know this.” He repeated, not taking back his words as he reached out, grabbing your shoulders. You blinked, letting out a laugh.

“Is this seriously how you're going to tell me?” You asked him fondly, to which he blinked, suddenly feeling a little sheepish. Nonetheless, he nodded, cheeks flushing.

“I'm serious. I mean it. I can't keep it in anymore. Not after what you've just said. I couldn't waste another opportunity,” he murmured, raising his right hand to cup your cheek, his left hand grasping your neck. You glanced up, raising a brow cheekily.

“Done beating around the bush?” You teased him, to which he let out a breathy chuckle, leaning his forehead against yours.

“You didn't say it back.” He mumbled, eyes still looking into yours with the love he'd festered over the years. You let out a small laugh, eyes crinkling.

“I'm in love with you, Satoru.” You spoke sincerely, your arms coming up around his neck. He smiled brightly, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You're way too precious to me. You always have been.” He confessed quietly, leaning down to finally press his lips against yours, thumb brushing soothingly against your cheek. You kissed back with the same constancy as his, arms tightening around his neck. He kissed you slowly, passionately, with devotion he had yet to show for anything besides his art. Carefully, almost regretfully, he pulled back, eyes peeling open softly, his breath feathering over your lips.

“God, I love you so much. I can't believe I waited this long to kiss you.” He whined ever so slightly, voice laced with a playful undertone. You let out a laugh, leaning up to peck him once more.

“Just be glad you did it.” You mumbled, lashes fluttering as you looked up at him. He nodded, smiling brightly as he brought you into a tight embrace, pressing kisses into your hair.

“I love you,” he repeated for the umpteenth time, to which you let out another laugh. You nuzzled deeper into his neck, hugging him tightly.

“I love you, Satoru.” You echoed, placing a kiss to his neck. He sighed once more, beginning to sway you in his embrace.

“Let's go home?” He asked, glancing down at you. You looked back up, giving him a nod.

“Yeah. Let's go home, Satoru.” You answered with a smile, pressing your lips against his cheek, watching the skin flush pink as he grinned, grabbing your hand in his, pulling you out of the studio, hand remaining in yours as you locked up the door. You turned back to face him, watching him stand there, the glow of the setting sun casting upon him. Looking as beautiful as always, Satoru smiled back at you, the look of fondness and adoration evident in his face. Already, you know exactly what your next piece will be. You just hope you can do justice to your depiction of your lover in the sunlight. For once, it seemed you truly understood those who dedicated entire careers to their beloved. For once, you played cupid in your own life, professing a love so deep that it knew no bounds. How strange it truly was to have a muse.

“Does this mean you both are together now?” Suguru had asked the next day, watching Satoru cling to you and pepper kisses all over your skin that he could see.

“Obviously!” Satoru cheered out loud, grinning as he swayed you in his embrace. You let out a lighthearted sigh, patting his arms that snaked around you.

“Took you long enough.” Shoko mused, words mumbled due to the cigarette resting between her lips. Satoru blatantly ignored the comment, nuzzling further into your neck from his place behind you.

“At least I'm not alone and miserable like you!” Satoru stuck his tongue out at Shoko, to which Suguru let out a small laugh.

It was true. As we already know by now, Suguru Geto was indeed not a man who put himself out there for the world. He was polite to the people around him and the people who came to get tattoos, but that was as far as most of his acquaintanceships went. He wasn't opposed to finding someone or loving someone, he just hadn't found anyone of intrigue.

Is what he thought– at least until a while ago. But even a man like Suguru would eventually find infatuation with someone. And that someone was starting to become a regular in his life. It seems that's how most love stories start, or at least how it started between his friends. As he looks down at his knuckles, he realizes that maybe, maybe it's time to accept his own feelings for a special someone…

[starrysillhoutte]

fame au where it’s award season and the valkyries have just won a grammy but no one knows that the songs sung by lead vocalist Lily Evan’s about a mystery girl are written by bass player Marlene McKinnon about her model girlfriend Dorcas Meadowes

[seongwars]

hiraeth | jeon wonwoo

model!wonwoo x veterinarian!reader genre: fluff, no real angst

I really want to start my wonwoo series but I have too many wips at the moment so this will have to suffice 😭

You and Wonwoo grew up as childhood friends and next-door neighbors in a small countryside town. You both dreamed of moving to the city—you to become a veterinarian and him to pursue a career as a photographer.

But tragedy struck when your sister and brother-in-law were killed in a car accident, leaving behind your baby niece. You decided to stay in your hometown, attending a local university to take care of your niece and grandmother. Meanwhile, Wonwoo moved to the city, where he was unexpectedly street-cast as a model and quickly rose to fame.

Your friendship falls apart when Wonwoo comes home for winter break, and you both get into a heated argument when he tells you that he's ashamed he grew up in a place like this and that you'd never be good enough to make it like he did.

That was the last time you'd ever spoken to him.

A decade later, Wonwoo unexpectedly returns home, shocking everyone. No one knows why, but the paparazzi and fans flood the town trying to figure out his whereabouts. Wonwoo tries to evade the paparazzi and his rabid fans and hides out in Mr. Kwon's barn.

Meanwhile you're helping Mr. Kwon find his missing cow, and it turns out she gave birth to a calf in a field. All is well until a bunch of cars speed by, potentially stressing out the cow and her calf. Stupid city slickers!

You return to the barn and find Wonwoo hiding. Obviously, you rebuff him but then point out he's covered in poop.

Later at dinner, his dad reveals that these rich developers keep coming to town trying to convince people to sell their land and there's lots of resistance from the locals. But they keep getting threatened by these city folk!

Oh and you're being romanced by Choi Seungcheol, your niece's gym teacher.

Wonwoo doesn't like that.

You and Wonwoo somehow always seem to cross paths. Whether its dropping your niece off at school or making a farm call, he always has on a dumb disguise.

The only person in town who seems thrilled about the sudden rise in tourism is the town head, Lee Jihoon. Because money.

Sometime later, your grandmother invites Wonwoo and his dad over for dinner, and lo and behold Choi Seungcheol is also there.

It turns out that Seungcheol is originally from the city but took the teaching job in the countryside because it was too competitive in the city. Sure, Jan.

You get an emergency call from Mr. Kim because his dog Kimja is having a difficult labor. You rush over, doing everything you can to help her. Despite your best efforts, Kimja doesn’t make it, and neither do the rest of the litter, except for one tiny, puppy.

Wonwoo, still awake, sees you coming home and you're a sobbing mess. He musters the courage to reach out to you, and you kind of just rant about how you did everything to try and help her and the rest of the litter but you failed.

"You did your best and that's all that matters."

You bury your face in his shoulder, unable to stop the tears. It’s been years since you’ve felt this defeated. As a veterinarian, you’ve faced so many challenges, but nothing like this. Never something so completely out of your control.

Wonwoo admits that he came home because he also felt like a failure. He was supposed to play the lead role in an up-and-coming movie by the famous director Yoon Jeonghan, but the project was put on hold due to Jeonghan's frustration with Wonwoo's inability to act convincingly as they looked for a new lead.

"He said I couldn't act my way out of a paper bag."

So, Wonwoo came home to reevaluate his life choices and decide if he could start over.

You tell him he absolutely can, that it's not too late. But that he shouldn't give up or let some city boy take his place.

"You're gonna let some city boy prove he's better than you? Go take back what's yours!"

You both reconcile and you go home.

The next day, those darn developers come back, and the townsfolk are out protesting. You, your grandma, your niece, Wonwoo, and his dad are all there, standing with the protestors.

One of the developers recognizes him, even with glasses, and mentions that his daughter is a big fan.

"Wonwoo? Famous? Nahhh," the townsfolk laugh, waving it off like the developer must have mistaken him for someone else.

The developers approach Wonwoo and attempt to sway him to their side. They want him to convince the town to sell their land so they can build their fancy golf course. But Wonwoo refuses outright because this is the place that raised him, and no amount of money or pressure can change that.

Using his star power, Wonwoo pulls every string he can to get the developers to back off. In the process, he uncovers a shocking twist: Turns out, Seungcheol was a spy for the developers and, to top it off, the son of one of them!

Wonwoo tells you the truth, and with a heavy heart, you end things with Seungcheol.

"He was too perfect," you sighed.

Thanks to the power of privilege and friendship, Wonwoo manages to help save the town from the developers.

While everyone is celebrating, Wonwoo tells you he's going to go back to the city and convince Director Yoon to give him another shot.

"Make sure you rub it in his face when you win an award for that role."

Over the next few months, Wonwoo visits home between shoots, and you both rekindle your friendship—and something more. It's in the way his eyes linger on you just a moment too long.

Or after a particularly long day, you find yourselves sitting on the roof of his parent's house, eating ramen. Somewhere between conversations of the past and future, his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a quiet, tender gesture.

The night of the Golden Carat Awards rolls around, and everyone gathers in the courtyard of the town center to watch the ceremony.

Wonwoo’s name is announced among the nominees for Best New Actor, and the crowd quiets instantly.

“And the winner for Best New Actor is…” The announcer pauses dramatically, drawing out the moment.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

When his name is called, you let out a little gasp, unable to help the way a smile breaks across your face as the crowed erupts into chaos. Wonwoo’s dad, who had been sitting quietly at the start of the evening, is now sobbing uncontrollably.

“That’s my son!”

Your heart swells with pride as the camera pans to Wonwoo, standing from his seat to hug the people around him before making his way to the stage.

“I really didn’t think I’d be standing here tonight. Thank you to the Golden Carat committee, my team, the amazing cast and crew I’ve been lucky enough to work with—and, of course, my fans. None of this would’ve been possible without you.”

Wonwoo pauses, glancing down at the trophy for a moment. You wonder if he’s collecting his thoughts or trying not to cry. Then, he looks back up, his expression softer now, almost shy.

“I’d like to thank my family for their unwavering support,” he continues, his voice quieter but no less heartfelt. “And…” He hesitates, his lips curling into a faint smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“My guiding light. Someone who’s been my source of inspiration to keep fighting against those city boys, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

The courtyard falls silent as every single person turns to look at you and you can't help but sink lower into your chair.

“Marry him already!” Mr. Kim yells.

When Wonwoo returns, he’s standing on your doorstep with a bouquet of wildflowers your niece helped him pick out, grinning from ear to ear. He promises that he'd be happy waiting for you to come home, taking care of the laundry while you help animals.

So you take him up on his offer.

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

sirius black : model.

[leeyztb]

they look so cute omg 😭 butler tdbk!