Late Models // Byron Langley
Summary- You, as a model, are forced to work with a surprise model, who happens to be MIA at the shoot.
Warnings; A few swears, maybe.
A/n; I finished this like yesterday, and forgot to post. Oops. Also, might not be the best, wasn’t sure how to write the fight. Also I had no idea what to name this. x
Requested; Yes, another two in one because I have so many Byron requests lately. I hope you both don’t mind, the requests were changed a bit to fit together. Enjoy!
req; I bloody love your byron imagines tbh you should do one where you guys meet unexpectedly in a park or in a photoshoot yeah that would be really cool💕 thank youuu❤️
req; Hiya, could you do a Byron imagine please, where him and the reader have a silly fight but it ends up all cute and fluffy? Thank you, love your writing!💞
“Alright, Y/N.” Your manager said, walking into the dressing room. “You'll have to start without him, the male model you'll be working with is running late, so the photographer said we'll start with individuals.” She said, flipping through a page on her clipboard. “Follow me.”
You were a model, and a good one at that. You started out on a small campaign.. Or so you thought. Turns out, the line you were modelling for was a huge success, and that designer had asked you model for their newest line’s fashion show. Of course, you accepted, seeing as your time together, you’d become good friends with the designer. Ever since then, you’d been her go-to model, (for anything, really), and she hooked you up with a good manager. A few months later, you were known by many people across the world for the many jobs she’d set you up with.
So you did, you followed her through the halls until you reached the area where the lighting was all set and ready to go. “Okay, Y/N. Awesome, you’re here. I’ll have you stand right here if that’s okay, and we just want to see some natural poses. This is all about you, do what feels right.” The photographer instructed, and you nodded. You stepped where told, and flashed the camera a shy smile. You could see your manager out of the corner of your eye smiling proudly.
After a few more shots, and a very happy photographer, you jumped when the door slammed open. “Sorry we’re late!” A man ran in, and by his attire, you assumed he was your partner’s manager. Still, your to-be-revealed partner was MIA. You sighed, your manager had been talking up this model you were to pose with for a magazine cover, but you had no idea who it was, and by the looks of it, he wasn’t as good as your manager had made him out to be.
Finally, someone was rushed in, followed by the costume manager and a few other assistants who’d been running around the set. When you laid eyes on him, your heart began to race. Wow. He was hot. Not just model hot, you had worked with many other male models over the years, and they’d been decently hot, but this was different, No, he was really hot, and he was your partner. The moment you and his eyes met, it was as if time stopped. By the look on his face, he felt the same.
You didn’t have time for introductions or to enjoy the moment, because the photographer and managers were pushing you two together, rushing you into positions. You didn’t even know this guy’s name, but you didn’t care at this point. You were just appreciating the time and small space between the two of you. You did as instructed, some of the shots called for him to give you a piggyback, to which he lifted you with ease, and you wouldn’t tell anyone, but the smile on your face was genuine. You didn’t even know his name, and you already cool feel how much you enjoyed the company.
That was, until break. After catching up on the shots, the photographer brought in a few other models that were there and let the two of you have a bit of a break, before returning for some final shots and then Byron’s solo photoshoot. “You’re not half bad for someone who’s late.” You said, as you two were sitting down in another room and were out of the way. “Shut up.” He grumbled, his attitude taking you by surprise. “I was just kidding, relax.” You said, rolling your eyes. “Whatever.” He mumbled, looking away.
“So, do I get to know your name?” You asked, trying to ease the now heavy tension. You were hoping he was just embarrassed he was so late, and he wasn’t actually as bitchy as he was coming across as. “Byron Langley.” He said, simply. At least you could put a name to his face. Now that you looked at him and analysed him a bit more, you realized the name suited him. “Well, my name is Y/N L/N. I know you were dying to know.” You said, throwing your hair over your shoulder smoothly.
“Mhm.” Byron hummed, pulling out his phone. “Rude.” You muttered, annoyed. So much for the positive thought that he wasn’t bitchy. “Excuse me?” He asked, eyebrows raised towards you. “Oh, nothing.” You said, a very clearly forced smile present on your delicate features. “You don’t know me.” Byron said, a dangerous, warning tone laced in his words. “Doesn’t mean I can’t decipher a rude person when I see one.” You retorted, looking away from him.
“I’m not rude.” He defended, slightly tensing as you continued. “Well I suppose you’re right, but your actions were quite rude.” You said, pretending to ponder it. “Do you ever shut up?” Byron asked, now very obviously annoyed. “Not when teasing you is so much more fun than being quiet.” You smiled. The banter between you shot back and forth for another solid 5 minutes.
You checked your phone for the time, standing up. “Now where are you going, princess?” He asked, smartly. You nearly laughed at how clueless he was. “I mean, I’m going back to set, it’s been 10 minutes, our break is up. That is, unless you want to be late again?” You asked, whipping around on your heel, so your hair spun with you, and strut out the door.
You heard Byron curse silently, or, attempted silently. He jumped up, his feet pattering against the floor as he ran after you. You laughed as you entered the main room. “Where’s Byron?” The photographer asked, slightly annoyed. “He’s coming.” You said, smiling and taking your place. Byron ran in less than 2 minutes later, apologizing to the photographer and starting to tell how he had to go to the bathroom, but the photographer held up a hand. “It’s fine, Y/N told us you’d be a minute. You’re lucky she did, too. Late twice, not looking to good for you.” He said, clapping Byron on the back and instructing his position.
This left Byron a bit confused, but he listened to the instructions. Why would you cover for him? A few minutes ago, you were bickering back and forth about him being rude. Maybe he rushed to conclusions about you. You were more than just an annoying partner, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a spark when your eyes met for the first time. It was undeniable that you were attractive, but Byron knew better than to get his hopes up, especially with models. It never worked.
That was his one rule, but for some reason, with you, it slipped his mind completely. He felt drawn to you, and the banter you shared earlier, now that he thought about, went so smoothly for two people who barely knew each other’s names. Byron was usually a bit of a shy guy as well, but his walls were down completely when it came to you. He didn’t know why, but he knew he wanted, no, he had to get to know you better.
As the photoshoot came to a close, you packed up your stuff, and were following your manager out the door. “Y/N!” Byron called, running over. You gestured for your manager to go on without you, and she nodded as she obeyed, “Just don’t take too long.” She said, and left. “What can I do for you, pretty boy?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think I was fast to judge you, earlier. Here’s my number. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to make it up to you.” He said, handing you a slip of paper, and surprising himself with the sudden boost of confidence, but he wasn’t going to question it now.
“Sure. Here’s mine.” You said, grabbing a small paper and pen out of your bag and scribbling your number on it. You handed it to Byron, pulling back when he reached for it. He sent you a confused look, and you chuckled. “If you’re late, I’m deleting your number from my phone.” You teased, and he sighed. “Never letting that go, are you?” He asked, finally taking the slip out of your hand, once you allowed it. “Not a chance, Langley.” Little did you know, Byron secretly loved it, and wouldn’t have it any other way.
