#needthat!

🐈ྀི artist!sungho x artist reader ⸺ high school au, academic rivals to lovers ⸺ w. kissing 📦 1,277 words

the two of you did not play when it came to art, always staying after hours and working harder than necessary. today was no different for the pair; the change in lighting snapped you out of your focus, turning to see the once bright blue sky fade into a beautiful orange. you wash off your brushes and paint palette, set your painting on the rack to dry, and collect your stuff.

"night, yn." sungho mutters, focused on his own work. it was a simple gesture, yet for some reason it made your heart skip a beat. "good night, sungho." you stop at the door, hand reaching for the light switch but paused, hovering over it, and turned your head back to him. "should i leave the light on?" it was a stupid question, but you waited for an answer nonetheless.

"mhm." he hummed. and you made your way out the door.

it felt like all the warmth flew out the door when you left, despite the warm orange sky and the rising temperature of the nearing summertime. the sounds of footsteps slowly faded, leaving only the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clatter of paint brushes when he reached for a different one. the sudden sound of the door sliding open interrupted the silence, causing sungho's head to shoot up.

there you stood, the source of the noise, lightly panting at the door. "sorry...i forgot something..." you searched the room with your eyes and walked towards your chair, which sat near his. you grabbed your forgotten pencil case, looking up to see sungho tilting his canvas even more away from you. you raised an eyebrow. "what're you hiding..?" you step closer to him, which causes the boy the turn the canvas even more away.

sungho's played it cool, "it's rude to look at someone's work when they don't want it to be seen." you rolled your eyes. "yeah, yeah. or maybe...it's something else."

sungho raised a brow and you gasp dramatically, hand on your heart. "are you painting inappropriate things? geez, sungho. at least do it in the comfort of your own home instead of a school for goodness sakes! have some decency!" you teased. sungho's ears turned red. "wha– what!? no, what are you saying?"

"you're red and stuttering, sungho. i knew you were a perv!" you pointed at him, which only made him more flustered.

"no! i'm not—!" he waved his hands infront of him. "just..just shut up, okay!?" he gripped the canvas like his life depended on it. "then why won't you show me, huh? you're always showing off your art to me, comparing mine to yours. so what's so different about this one?"

he shook his head. "no– nothing..i just don't want to show it to anyone.."

"but isn't this an assignment? you're gonna have to hand it in to the teacher." you were right. but that still didn't mean he'd show it to you.

"yeah, whatever. but are you the art teacher? yeah, didn't think so." he retorted, trying to act tough but his red ears betraying him. "come on, sungho. don't you want to show off your painting!" you stepped even closer, trying to turn the painting around. the poor boy held onto it for dear life, trying to cover it up without smudging the paint. "come on, what's up with you today?" you put your hands on your hips. he shook his head in response. "nothing, so let me be!" but you clearly don't take no as an answer, so you grabbed onto the eisel and spun it around, using as much strength as you could to tear the painting from sungho's tight grip. (because of those arms 😍😍) "what're you hiding sung—"

you stared at the painting, and it stared back. well, more like, you stared back. "oh." you breathed out. "that's..." you continued to stare at the painting, eyes slightly wide. "that's me." sungho nodded, though he doubted you could see him based on how you two were positioned. "oh." you said again. your breath hitched. "yeah." sungho said, almost sounding ashamed.

"so...what's that about?" you turned your head to him, but his eyes remained on the ground, hands fidgeting, lips pressed into a line. he gulped. "yn..." he let out a shaky breath. "i'm..i'm sorry. i just..i couldn't help myself, because..." he took a deep breath and looked up, meeting your eyes. "you're my muse." your eyes widened; you opened your mouth to say something, but didn't know how to respond.

you blinked, opening and shutting your mouth a few times before muttering "i..." sungho stood up, looking at your face, scanning each detail of your expression, looking anywhere but your eyes. "i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable, i just..." he bites his lip, unsure how to continue his sentence. "i find you..pleasant to look at, easy to draw." your expression twisted into unamused. "wow, really? pleasant to look at? easy to draw?" you half teased, half asked offended.

he hesitated, biting into his lip harder. the tips of his ears were a crimson color, and you were pretty sure all of the blood in his head was redirected to his ears. "well..." his stopped flying around your face and he finally looked into your eyes. "fine. i find you beautiful and everytime i draw you it feels..indescribable. you give me reason to create, a spark of inspiration that gives life to my art. you are the perfect subject, incomparable, unpareil. all my most beautiful and favorite works of art are of you. you are my muse, yn." he looks at you with passion, with yearning. his words simply cannot express how he feels about you, and how you are his light, his inspiration. muse is not strong enough of a word to describe what you are to him.

"i know we have our disagreements, that we compete in everything, especially in art, but i can't help but long for you." his words are as much as a piece of art as his paintings were. he looked at you with longing eyes. you took a shaky breath, hands shaking, cheeks rosy. nothing could've prepared you for this. you opened your mouth to say something, you were not sure what, but something, when suddenly his hands took hold of your face, taking a step forward, he smashed his lips onto yours.

the kiss was filled with emotion—passion, yearning, love—it wasn't hungry or lustful, but raw and full of vulnerability. he was opening his heart, showing you his feelings.

you didn't push away; your hands held his shoulders, slowly moving to his back, gripping the fabric of his shirt. he moved his hands to your waist, pulling you closer as he tilted his head; you arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. he two pulled apart after what felt like hours, resting his forehead on yours, both of you trying to catch your breath.

he looked at you, a soft smile forming, and you let out a little laugh. he leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your cheek and burying his face in your neck. you patted his head, running your hands through his hair. "thank you..." you muttered. he lifted his head to look at you. "for what?"

"for making me your muse."

I rlly love the idea of Toby referring to his s/o as “kitz” which translates to fawn I believe! /)~(\

-🧃