Masterpiece.
desc : After a long day at work, you expect a quiet night in your penthouse with Higuruma , like any other night , cuddled up , warm , both exhausted from work and ready to rest easy. Instead, he surprises you with a private art session beneath the city skyline , silk sheets, studio lights, expensive wine, and a lingerie set chosen just for you. What starts as admiration turns into something far more intimate as he captures you the way he sees fit.
notes : long one shot , smut , romance , soft Dom hiromi x confident muse reader , domestic intimacy , artist hiromi apparently , body worship , oral f! Receiving , spice level on 1000000000!!!!
wc: 3.8k
The elevator doors slid open to the private floor of the penthouse, soft city lights spilling in from the glass walls. You stepped out, heels clicking against marble, tired from work but still glowing in that effortless way you always did.
Before you could reach for the door, it opened.
And there he was. Looking as good as ever.
Hiromi Higuruma stood in the doorway , tie missing, sleeves of his silk black dress shirt pushed up , which already told you this was not a normal night.
His expression was calm, almost unreadable... but you knew him well enough to see the hint of anticipation in his eyes.
"Close your eyes," he said gently.
You raised a brow. "Higuruma.."
"Trust me." His voice lowered just slightly.
You sighed dramatically but obeyed nonetheless .
"If I trip, I'm suing."
"I'd win," he replied smoothly, one hand settling at your waist as he guided you inside.
You could hear soft music playing , low jazz and smell something faintly sweet, like vanilla and clean linen. He carefully walked you forward, hand steady at your back.
"Okay," he murmured. "Open them.'
Your eyes fluttered open.
In the center of the living room, right beneath the chandelier, was a full camera and light setup.
Multiple blank canvases stood on easels, arranged like a gallery waiting for its masterpiece.
Paintbrushes, palettes, and oils were neatly laid out across a long glass table. The skyline behind it all made it look like a scene from a luxury art magazine.
You stared in slight confusion mixed with interest.
"..What is this?"
Higuruma adjusted the set up a bit before sitting down in front of you, almost shy for half a second before his usual composure returned.
"You work hard," he said. "You deserve to be admired properly”
Your stomach fluttered.
He stepped toward the table and picked up a small black gift box tied with satin ribbon.
"And I need my subject appropriately dressed."
You gasped softly when he handed it to you.
"You're ridiculous."
"Open it."
Inside was the prettiest lingerie set you'd ever seen delicate, soft fabric with tiny bows placed just strategically enough to make your heart race. It was elegant. Not tacky. The kind of piece that felt expensive and intentional, meant to be worn down a runway even.
Your surprised smile was instant and genuine.
"Higuruma.."
He watched you carefully, not just your body, but your reaction. The way your eyes sparkled. The way your fingers traced the ribbon detail.
"If you're uncomfortable," he said quietly, stepping closer, "we won't do it. This isn't about possession. It's about art. About capturing you the way I see you."
"And how's that?" you whispered.
His thumb brushed gently under your chin.
"Beautiful. Soft. Mine...but only because you choose to be."
Your breath caught.
The camera light glowed softly behind him, the city stretching endlessly below the penthouse windows.
You stepped closer, fingers hooking into his shirt collar.
"Well," you said, teasing, "are you going to paint me, Mr. Attorney ... or just stare?" you seductively said as you softly let go of him walking into the room to dress and prepare yourself.
The faintest smirk touched his lips as he watched you strut away.
The night didn't rush...It unfolded.
After handing you the box, Higuruma quietly moved to the center of the penthouse windows. The skyline glittered beneath the glass like a kingdom made of diamonds that shines almost as bright as you. Slowly, he laid out a thick black silk blanket directly in front of the view. Matching silk pillows followed , arranged carefully, intentionally , like he was building a stage.
Not a bed.
A setting.
A frame.
"I’ll be waiting," he said calmly but loud enough to hear.
The soft rustle of fabric. The quiet hum of the city.
The faint clink of glass as he adjusted the lighting stands. He dimmed the overhead chandelier and let the studio lights cast a warm glow across the silk, making it gleam like liquid ink.
When the bedroom door finally opened, he stilled.
You stepped out slowly, hair done in a beautiful VS bombshell look, makeup flawless, bows sitting perfectly against your skin, especially on your breasts covering your beautiful toned nipples. The city lights reflected against you like you were part of the skyline itself.
For a moment, Hiromi Higuruma forgot how to breathe.
He stepped forward instinctively, hand lifting as if drawn by gravity.
He stepped forward instinctively, hand lifting as if drawn by gravity.
You swatted it away lightly.
"Aht, aht," you teased, chin tilting. "You said you wanted to capture me... so do it.""
The faintest smile curved his lips...impressed.
You waltzed past him with unhurried confidence, hips swaying as you crossed toward the silk bedding. Turning gracefully, you lowered yourself onto it, legs angled to the side. Your fingers combed through your hair before tossing it back over your shoulder, the movement effortless.
Natural. And beautiful.
Not performing, literally owning it, you always carried yourself with confidence and that's one thing he absolutely adored about you.
Higuruma inhaled slowly, steadying himself. Then his composure returned.
He reached up, adjusting the lights, angling them to kiss your collarbone, to hit your beautiful soft skin at the right angle, to trace the slope of your thighs without being harsh. He lifted the camera and slipped the strap around his neck.
Click.
The first flash was soft.
Click.
You shifted slightly, arching just enough, gaze half-lidded but confident.
Click.
He moved in closer, lowering himself slightly to capture the skyline behind you, the way it framed you like you ruled it.
There was no vulgarity in his expression. Only reverence. Study. And admiration.
After several shots, he stepped back and connected the camera with an adapter to the small photo printer waiting on the glass console. The machine hummed softly as the first image began to print.
While it processed, he began preparing the canvas.
Oil paints opened. Brushes selected. Palette knife placed nearby. Every movement. controlled... though his peripheral vision betrayed him. He watched you without looking directly, catching the way you shifted against the silk, the way you observed him observing you.
Predator and muse.
Painter and his masterpiece.
The first printed photo slid out. He lifted it, studying the captured image, the curve, the shadow, the way the light wrapped around you.
"Perfect." he mumbled, heavily satisfied.
He clipped the reference image to the easel and finally looked at you fully.
"Hold that position," he murmured.
You smirked slightly, adjusting your chin just enough to challenge him.
The brush touched canvas.
Slow strokes at first, mapping shape. Blocking shadows. Building you piece by piece like you were something sacred he refused to rush.
Time blurred.
Paint layered. Colors deepened. The city outside darkened further, making you glow warmer against the black silk.
And when he finally stepped back, brush lowering slightly, there was something different in his gaze
Not hunger.
Not possession.
But pride. Prideful that he could call you his. Prideful that he was the only one that could see you like this amongst .. other views of course .
"You're dangerous," he said quietly.
You smiled from your throne of silk, unbothered.
"Good," you replied.
The painting was only halfway done.
"Want a little break from posing," he said humorously.
"Yeah, my arms could use it," you replied giggling a bit.
You grabbed the robe sitting near you as you sat back against the pillows, throwing the robe on as you watched hiromi walk to the kitchen.
He reached into the wine rack in the corner of the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Opus one , and two wine glasses. After he finished pouring he walked over to you handing you the glass and sitting next to you.
"why'd you finally crack open one of our expensive bottles ?" You said curiously , because he usually just likes collecting expensive wine bottles , only opening them at social events with you , him and mutual co workers.
"It's appropriate for the night, my love." He said as he caressed your thigh, watching you drink from the glass, studying the way your lined and glossed lips landed on the rim of the glass.
"You like what you see ?" You slyly say flashing an attractive smile, batting your eyes like you don't know what you do to him.
"Oh I love it & some , you don't even know the half of it my love." Putting down his glass and taking yours , he then brushes the lower half of your rob off exposing your whole leg and caressing it.
Skin as soft as ever, but of course you stayed moisturized, soft, luxury like skin always, that's also something he finds attractive about you.
You pull him into a kiss, not wanting to waste more of a second, you've been craving him this whole time but also wanting to see how this painting turns out.
"Mmnn…hiro” you sigh as he backs out of the kiss and leans into your neck , littering your neck with love , affection , and heavy attraction.
He continues to kiss down your beautiful frame , as he makes it to your cutely wrapped boobs , he kisses the temples , not ready to remove the lingerie off of you quite yet .
You whimper once more as his lips find their way to the inner part of your thigh , peppering it with kisses as he grips your thighs with his arms.
He makes his way to your half clothed cunt , the lingerie set he picked up for you has a little opening around the pussy area , he purposely picked out of course .
You arch a little , gasping , as you suddenly feel his warm , wet tongue approach your now leaking cunt.
“Stay still for me my love , can you do that for me ?” He questioned , looking up at you with his sanpaku eyes.
“Mhmmm…” you moaned biting your lips and looking back down at him , resting your hips on the silk sheets.
He doesn’t waste anytime , ravishing you , eating you up like you’re literally edible . He slurps up your juices as you grab his head pushing him down right where you want him .
“Oh hiro…” you moan as he feasts on you “mmm..” he groans in response as he’s lapping you up .
“You taste impeccable baby “ you muster out a giggle in between moans at his little comment , a giggle , which is shortly followed by a loud moan “hiromi!..”
He’s now put two of his finger up your glistening cunt as his mouth is working your clit , mouth tightly wrapped around it , swirling around your nerves.
“Ahh..mnnn…” a bunch of babble and noise is all your able to muster out as he’s ravishing you , feeling your orgasm creep up , clenching around his finger as a response “
“Mm you’re almost there , baby , cmon..cum all over my face so I can get back to painting this beautiful girl. “ he says as he dives right back in , pumping you faster now , which causes u to lock his head in between your legs , barely allowing room for breath to escape .
“There it is.” He mumbles against you as your orgasm comes crashing down , legs shaking , moans and whimpers filling up the room ,back arched off of the silk blankets placed on the marble floor.
He arises from your legs after lapping up all of the after math of his feast. He looms over you , grabbing the glass of wine , taking a sip from it .
“Oh hiromi , what would I do without you” you spoke softly gazing into his eyes , moving his hair and wiping a bit of your left overs off of his chin .
“I guess we’ll never know,” he replies.
As he watches you gaze out of the skyline view , drowsy and falling asleep in your big hair and done up face , he scoops you off the floor and carrying you to the giant California king sized bed , pulling out the comforter to lay you down , and then covering you in it.
“Goodnight my love,” he says kissing your forehead , then covering you up. “ you’ll enjoy your surprise in the morning,“ he says as he brushes the side of your face before leaving the room.
He walks back into the living room sitting back down in front of the painting getting ready to finish the portrait of his beautiful princess.
The night goes on into the morning and you awake, not seeing hiromi , but seeing a note with hearts doodled around the words .
“I had a court hearing to attend to this early morning , but I assure your gift awaiting you outside will make up for my absence.”
You smile at the cute note as you stretch your arms out yawning , slightly cringed by your own morning breath.
You throw on your pink & white Victoria secret robe and continue on to your morning routine.
You then slowly waltz out to the giant canvas from last night mounted on the easel. You gasp at the sight of a professionally-like portrait of yourself , every detail captured , even your birthmark , even perfectly capturing the penthouse skyline in the back .
“Wow hiromi , you’ve really outdone yourself “ you say to yourself as you walk up to the beautifully captured painting .
You reach out, fingers hovering just above the dried paint , afraid to smudge something so special , that feels almost sacred.
Every brushstroke is intentional. The curve of your shoulder. The exact tilt of your chin. The quiet strength in your eyes. He didn’t just paint your body.
He painted the way he sees you.
Admired , and god awfully attractive.
Behind you, the real skyline glows in the morning light , but somehow the one on the canvas feels warmer. Like it belongs to you.
Your lips curve softly.
For a man who speaks in logic, contracts, and courtroom precision, Hiromi Higuruma loves in details.
In late nights.
In quiet effort.
In showing up, even when he can’t physically stay.
You hug your robe closer around yourself, smiling at the tiny heart doodles in his neat handwriting still clutched in your hand.
“Court hearing, huh…” you murmur, amused.
Your phone buzzes on the nearby console.
A message from him.
“Did you see it?”
You glance between the painting and the skyline, warmth spreading through your chest.
“You captured me perfectly,” you type back.
Three dots appear almost instantly.
“No,”his reply comes. “I simply painted what was already there.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head.
And as sunlight spills across the canvas , illuminating you twice in the same room , you realize something simple and certain:
You were never just his muse.
You were always his masterpiece , never will that ever change either.
a/n : I enjoyed writing this so much !! follow me for more , I also have a few black reader fics in mind :p
