#Musings in the essence of thought
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thesavageislander · 2 years ago
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Eric B. & Rakim - "In The Ghetto"...(remix).
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Planet Earth was my place of birth
Born to be the soul controller of the universe
Besides the part of the map I hit first
Any a rhyme that I can adapt when it gets worst
The rough gets going, the going gets rough
When I start flowing, the mic might bust
The next state, I shake from the power I generate
People in Cali used to think it was earthquakes
'Cause times was hard on the Boulevard
So I vote God and never get scarred and gauled
But it seems like I'm locked in hell
Looking over the edge but the R never fell
A trip to slip 'cause my Nikes got grip
Stand on my own two feet and come equip
Any stage I'm seen on, a mic I fiend on
I stand alone and need nothing to lean on
Going for self wit a long way to go
So much to say but I still flow slow
I come correct and I won't look back
'Cause it ain't where you're from, it's where you're at
Even the (ghetto)
I learn to relax in my room and escape from New York
And return through the womb of the world as a thought
Thinking how hard it was to be born
Me being queen wit no physical form
Millions have settled wit one destination
To reach the best part, it's life creation
9 months later, a job well done
Make way, 'cause here I come
Since I made it this far, I can't stop now
There's a will and a way and I got to know how
To be all I can be and more
And see all there is to see before
Called and go back to the essence
It's a lot to learn so I study my lessons
I thought the ghetto was the worst that could happen to me
I'm glad I listen when my father was rapping to me
'Cause back in the days, they lived in caves
Exile from the original man, a straight way
Now that's what I call hard times
I rather be here to exercise the mind
Then I take a thought around the world twice
From knowledge to born back to knowledge precise
Across the desert, that's how to store a radiant
But they couldn't cave me in 'cause I'm the Asiant
Reaching for the city, a Mecca, visit medina
Visions of Neffertiti then I seen a
Mind keeps traveling, I'll be back after I
Stop and think about the brothers and sisters in Africa
Return the thought through the eye of a needle
For miles I thought and I just fought the people
Under the dark skies on a dark side
Not only there but right here's an apartheid
So now is the time for us to react
Take a trip through the mind and when you get back
Understand you're third eye seen all of that
It ain't where you're from, it's where you're at
Even the (ghetto)
Even the (ghetto)
No more props, I want property
In every borough, nobody's stopping me
Because I'm thorough, rhymes are making real estate for me to own
Wherever I bless a microphone
007 is back and relaxing
On poignant reacting and ready for action
I'm so low key that you might not see me
Incognito and taking it easy
Quiet, it's kept on a hush hush
In front of a crowd, I get loud, there's a bumrush
Be calm, keep a low pro, and play the background
Over the wack rapper, put the mic back down
So rip it, break it in half, go head and slam it
'Cause when it's time to build, I'm a mechanic
I'm bonding and mending, attaching and blending
So many solos, there is no ending
People in my neighborhood, they know I'm good
From London to Hollywood, wherever I stood
Footprints remain on stage ever since
As I walk the street, I leave fossils and dents
When I had sex, I left my name on necks
My trademark was left throughout the projects
I used to get rich when I played celo
When I rolled 4, 5, 6, they go we know
So I collect my cash then slide
I got my back, my gun's on my side
It shouldn't have to be like that
I guess it ain't where you're from, it's where you're at
Even the (ghetto)
I'm from the (ghetto)
Word up, peace
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ukusreticence · 9 months ago
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im nearing throwing away the concept of effort and drawing blobs
i am about to turn every single dang doodle i've ever doodled into blobs and call it a day because my mind decided it cannot draw anything but blobs right now.
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heartbeatbookclub · 6 months ago
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I really do have to go back to the original game at some point soon, because I make frequent reference to things I remember in contrast to how + handles things, but the last time I experienced the game start to finish was when it came out, so...
In particular, I think there are a lot of things I need to investigate more closely in order to really reconcile all of my thoughts on the main game with the Side Stories.
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inspiwriter · 2 years ago
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Thoughts on art
This is where the difference lies, for me, between art and writing about art. Art is similar to life but sifferent (Deleuze). Art expresses something else even though it is like life: a truth - the artist’s own truth about a matter of life - which the artist truly believes in. Showing to the world the artist wishes to make the world believe in that truth as well - not by force or reason, but simply by moving the world deeply. In fact it is a matter of faith (Tarkovski), something felt deep inside when interacting with art (reading a novel or poem, listening to music, watching dance or theatre, looking at a painitng etc.). In the end this feeling might also be the factor that decides whether something is art or not for each individual.
When writign about art on the other hand, we use arguements - hence writing about art is usually called science. We are closer to life then, we’re not exactly talking about something else. In the effort to make that soemthing else understandable we inevitably attach ourselves to logic. The truth we then try to convey is presented through logic and not, as in art, byt simply asking the world to believe in this truth.
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nanivinsmoke · 4 months ago
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∞ dirty old man
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old!manlogan x fem!reader
summary ∞ what happens when you catch your boyfriend sniffing your panties
tags: panty sniffing, arousal, sub logan, dom reader, logan’s a little old and perverted, age gap (reader’s in their 20s), riding, creampie, dirty talking, squirting, face sitting, logan’s so horny he’s cumming a lot, etc..
note: need a muse. lowkey hate this
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kicking off your shoes and putting your keys on the island, you called out for your boyfriend, hoping he was here to give you some loving after your long day. you glanced at the couch and noticed his suit jacket resting on the edge, which let you know he was home.
with an eyebrow raised, you pulled off your jacket and made your way deeper inside of your house, checking to see where he was at. and when you finally reached your bedroom, you thought he would be there—napping—only for your bed to be empty. but, as turned on your heels to look elsewhere, you could see that your closet light was on and the door was slightly closed.
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“baby, you didn’t hear me—oh.” the old man froze. his tired hazel eyes wide open, while he still held the lacey fabric up to his nose, looking like a deer in headlights.
“oh, so this is why you didn’t hear me call you. too busy sniffing my panties. hm?” you smirked, inching toward him, slowly peeling off your bottom layer. logan had nothing to say. he was caught right in the act. he couldn’t lie or play it off, you had caught him. he was just going to wait and see what you had in store for him.
“does my smell get you off? wanna smell these one’s too?” you tugged on the band of your thong, eyes trailing down to his bulge sitting behind his pants. your mouth watered at the sight and you quickly pulled your tiny piece of fabric down, before tossing it to him and getting down on your knees.
he watched with low eyes as you palmed and kissed his boner, making him twitch in his pants, before unbuttoning them and pulling them down, making his fat cock spring to life. you kissed and licked his precum coated tip, jerking him off and earning a groan from him; before you stopped.
“don’t stop on my account. show me how my worn panties arouse you so much,” he grunted and rolled his eyes, before putting thong up to his nose and sniffing your arousal. he let out a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head while he felt your lips wrap around his cock.
the smell of you on your panties along with the scent of your arousal growing had him losing his mind. he gripped the back of your head and pushed you further down onto his shaft, making you deep throat him. the sound of you slightly gagging had his tip jerking in your mouth and ropes of cum pooling inside.
you swallowed and he shivered when you pulled away, eyes soft and sexy as you looked up at him. “you must’ve been so backed up for you to cum early like that. hope you got some more stored in there for me~”
he would’ve came again right there in his spot just from how sexy your voice sounded to him. he watched you kiss the head of his cock once more before stuffing him back into his pants. with an eyebrow raise, he grunted in annoyance. he was far from done. he had hoped to cum a couple of more times, especially inside of you.
standing up to reach his height, you kissed his lips, his own immediately moving in sync with yours. the kiss held so much passion, so much desire and so much lust. he needed you so bad and his strong sense of smell didn’t help, when he could smell how much you wanted him.
“don’t worry, ‘m far from done~” you kissed him once more before guiding him down to the floor. quickly grabbing a pillow from the bedroom, you placed it underneath his head, before hovering over him. slowly, you squatted down onto his face, connecting your unbelievably wet pussy with his lips.
logan didn’t waste any time. he lapped up your juices like it would be his last time, slurping up every last bit of your essence. he ate and devoured your pussy like his life depended on it, sending you into a moaning frenzy. a warm hand reached up and under your shirt, pinching one of your perky nipples; teasing it.
you rolled your hips against his face, loving the pleasure he was creating for you. it was so good. it was exactly what you wanted after a hard day at work. sitting on your boyfriend’s face was the perfect remedy to fix a stressful day.
the more he licked and slurped, the closer your orgasm came and soon the ball in your stomach caved and exploded; causing you to cream all over his face.
“fuckkkk baby. don’t stop.”
the growl he let out, vibrated against your cunt, making you squeal and squirm, gushing some more; before you moved from his face. you leaned down and kissed him, licking off every bit of yourself, before you sat on his clothed chest. reaching back, you palmed his erection in his pants—eyes wide when you felt something sticky seeping through.
“don’t waste it baby. next time, put it in me.” you hummed and pulled him out of his pants, swiping his cum up and placing into your mouth, relishing the taste on your tongue. you could barely wait, grinding against his torso before you moved a little and slowly sat down on his length.
hissing, he stretched your gummy walls open, making a temporary room inside of you; almost you to the brim. “fuck—might not last doll,” logan warned and you smiled. grabbing your panties, you stuffed it into the older man’s mouth, adding to his arousal.
you shifted your hips, making his tip press against your cervix, walls clenching down hard around him and making him cum a little bit inside of you. “w-want you to keep cumming inside of me. please baby, wan you to fuck a baby deep inside of me.”
hearing you speak with such vulgarity, made his dick swell even more. his animalistic urges started to unravel more and more while you started to bounce up and down on him, causing him to finally break. logan gripped your hips and slammed you down hard onto his cock, stuffing your sopping wet cunt completely.
the noises you let out while he proceeded to fuck you dumb on his cock, was like music to his ears. the squelching of your pussy, along with the sound of skin slapping each time your ass met his thighs, made you gush and whine out. he was fucking you so good. this old man knew exactly what your pussy needed and that was his fat stupid dick, stretching you out and painting your walls white.
he was close and so were you. clinging to his cock, desperate for his load to pour inside of you, wanting to feel warm with his cum.
his groaning was muffled by your panties, but you knew he was warning you. warning you that he was gonna cum. “fill me up, please. please daddy. fuck, gonna make me squ—”.
a clear stream of liquid shot out of you and splashed against his lower half, along with his buttoned up shirt. your orgasm was so intense that you came even more as he came inside of you, pushing his load deep into your tummy.
the grip on your hips was tight while he rode out his orgasm, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. until, he fully emptied himself and pulled out of you, the remnants of his orgasm pooling out of you.
pulling your panties out of his mouth, your lips became reacquainted with one another, shared desires flowing through the both of you. and when you pulled away, you swore you heard a whimper leave his lips.
“i love it when you miss me, old man.”
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dreamingkitsunewrites · 24 days ago
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Current brainrot:
Tw: nsfw heavy smut, Dom!Choso, a hint of Yandere!Choso- MDNI
Choso having you doggy on your bed, a mix of your sticky juices dripping down and staining your pink Pucca sheets, right above the print where the cute little girl is pecking Garu's flushed cheek.
He's fucking your poor abused hole incredibly hard and fast once again, lost in the haze of the gummy resistance provided by your slick walls. He's eager, his hands grab your waist harshly (no doubts purplish bruises will pop out of nowhere in that same spot the next morning), forcing you to push your plushy ass further up in the air, in search of that perfect angle that allows his fat, girthy cock to reach deeper, so deep to be screwing the very essence of your soul. He loves how tight you feel in this position, basically folded in half and impaled by his ruthless dick....a maddening sensation for Cho, who simply becomes a beast whenever he's offered the opportunity to ruin you like this... You were ruined for everyone else now and the thought alone makes his head spin, a rush of possessiveness heading straight to his cock. It's just after he has completed his masterpiece, almost breaking your little cunt for good and flooding it with a torrent of his thick seed, that he feels a pang of guilt: his heart clenches sightly with tender affection at the sight of your spent body, collapsed onto the mattress among all of those cute illustrations on your bedding and still convulsing from your high. You look so sweet,just out of a cartoon, so fragile, so submitted to him...
He delicately runs his strong, big hands up and down the curve of your ass, silently admiring the oh so filthy way his cum oozes out of your pulsating entrance with heart-shaped pupils
"Mine..." He muses to himself.
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ornithicwen · 1 month ago
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𝜗𝜚 photography ‧₊˚ ⊹
꩜ pair ; mr. reca x male reader
✧ tags ; taking intimate pictures, subbottom mr. reca, domtop reader, sex toys (vibrator usage), dacryphilia, edging, mentions of bites and bruises, slapping, begging
Photography was one thing, capturing fleeting moments not just in memory, but also in pictures. It was your passion, but using it during sex? It wasn’t something that you’d ever considered— at least, not until you met Mr. Reca.
Everything about him intrigued you, from his appearance and presence to the way he carried himself as one of the mighty director of the universe. But now, as you sat on your chair, camera in hand, the image before you couldn’t be further from his usual self.
You never intended to use it for anything beyond its original purpose. But things changed when he entered your world of art. Now, he wasn’t just a subject; he became the center of your existence, your muse in every sense.
As you scrolled through the various pictures, ignoring the cries and sobs that escaped from the man, the thought of imprinting him on every passion you hold dear makes you want to hold even his life. As if the mere click of the shutter was no longer just the sound of a photography being taken, but also the sound of you claiming him, capturing his essence, and weaving him into every piece of everything you loved.
It was a turn in your life you had never anticipated, a path you hadn’t intended to tread. But as you scrolled through the pictures on your camera, one caught your eye— a perfection. You pressed onto it, your thumb hovering for a brief second before marking it as a favorite.
“Mr. Reca,” you called softly, lifting your gaze from the camera to look at your beloved. He was on his knees on the bed, his flushed cheeks and parted lips betraying the pleasure that coursed through him as the toy vibrated deep inside of him. A whimper escaped him as he tilted his head toward you, the haze in his head interrupted by the sound of your voice.
“What do you think of this one?” You ask him, rising from your chair and holding up the camera to show him the photo you’d just taken a few moments ago. His hair was disheveled, his teary eyes rolled back, and drool dribbled down the corner of his mouth. His skin was flushed with red, adorned with bite marks and bruises. “Pretty good, don’t you think?” you teased with a grin. He tried to respond, but only a soft moan escaped him, his body trembling under your lustful gaze.
“Please, [YN],” he sobbed, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. Even saying your name was a struggle, not with the vibrator buried deep inside him, its medium setting relentlessly tormenting him, gazing those sensitive spits but never enough to tip him over the edge. “Please… let me cum,” he cried, his tear-streaked face turning up to you, eyes glossy with need. His pleading carried hope and prayer— a silent prayer for mercy.
However, you were not merciful. Instead, a sharp slap met his cheek, the sting making him gasp as his head snapped to the side. The sound echoed through the room, leaving only his broken sobs to fill the silence. “Not yet,” you murmured coldly, watching as his tears fell faster, his body trembling.
“Naughty boy,” you growled as you grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. His trembling lips parted, a soft gasp escaping him. “What did I tell you?” you frowned, your thumb pressing firmly against his lower lip, feeling the warmth of his shaky breath as he shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Master,” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. However, the apology wasn’t enough. Not for you. And he knew it.
“Master, please, I’m so sorry— ah!” His apology was abruptly cut off as a strangled cry tore from his throat. You had switched the vibrator to its maximum setting, the remote now in your hand where the camera was previously held. He didn’t even noticed the chance until now.
“Please! It’s— hng!— too m-much..! he begged, his voice breaking as his body convulsed under the vibrations. His hand clutched desperately at the sheets, knuckles turning white from the strain. He wanted to reach out, to touch you, but he didn’t dare. The unspoken rule hung heavy in the air— if he so much as laid a finger on you without permission, there would be consequences.
“It’s okay, puppy,” you cooed softly, a smile gracing your lips as you gently caressed his tear-streaked cheek. Your knee sank unto the soft mattress as you moved closer. “You can touch me,” you murmured, and his hands flew to your shoulders, gripping tightly.
You could feel him trembling and as your gaze lowered, you could see his cock twitch uncontrollably, aching for release. A sly smirk tugged at your lips as your hand lowered before slapping the tip of his cock, the sharp sound cutting through his cries.
His reaction was immediate— his head snapped back, his eyes rolling with a loud scream. His body convulsed, and he came. Hard. His release spilled out in thick pulses, his grip on your shoulders tightening briefly before his arms gave out, leaving him overstimulated as the vibrator further continued.
Finally, you turned the vibrator off, and he collapsed onto the bed. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, relief washing over his face when he thought that it was finally over. But that was short-lived.
Without warning, you grabbed his hips and flipped him over, positioning him on all fours. “W-wait—“ he was caught off as his flushed face pressed against the sheets as he whimpered, already overstimulated when he felt the tip of your cock on his rim. “I’d like to help myself,” you purred, slapping your cock against his asscheeks teasingly.
Suddenly, your cock slid deep inside him in one swift motion, his walls clenching instinctively around you, making you groan. A loud, broken moan escaped his lips as his body convulsed, and he came, again. His release spilled onto the sheets beneath him, his trembling arms barely holding him up as you began to move, arms wrapping around his fragile body as you continued to finally fuck him.
What a long night it will be.
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obsessive-valentine · 2 months ago
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Yandere Artist x GN!Maid-Reader
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Julian (or Jules as you nickname him), an esteemed artist in Victorian society, becomes captivated by a forgotten maid who moves through life unnoticed by others. Obsessed with finding ways to capture the adoration he has for you on canvas.
You’d been a maid at the gallery Julian visited, and the reason he returned over and over. He, a man of great status, an esteemed artist too, became drawn to you beyond his own understanding.
On one of Julian’s many visits, he found the courage to speak to you. "You work so hard, yet make it look as graceful as a dance", he murmured, his voice soft but sincere. You were startled—maids weren't meant to be noticed by men of his status. But Julian wasn’t like the others.
It was only after weeks of shared glances, whispered conversation and quiet sketches that Julian dared to ask you for more.
Losing sleep over the way you made him feel, emotions so deep and unexplainable he began going mad over trying to express it. His current models and pieces of art just weren't good enough compared to you and the way you make him feel.
A type of suffocating love he never thought could exist.
“Forgive me for being so forward,” he said, his voice gentle and earnest. “I understand this may come as a shock, but if you’d allow me, I would be honoured if you would be my muse."
Though you were hesitant to overstep and cause a scandal, he promised you everything you could want if you were to only be his muse, he’d give you a place to stay and all you could ask for, you wouldn’t have to be a maid anymore. But then being his muse, turned into friendship, then lovers.
He fell in love with how you so effortlessly inspired his work -but fell harder for how you grounded him as a person. Smitten by the little things- your soft laughter, the gentle way you spoke. He loved the small gestures you made without thinking, the way you’d hum as you worked. He'd notice it all.
While initially hesitant from the intensity of not being spared a glance to having a man tripping over himself at the sight of you -you grew to enjoy his presence. The idea of being someone who inspires him, someone who is at the centre of his world. After living your whole life in the shadows.
...
Many hours a week are sat in his study as he paints you, his work taking on a new life, new meaning that only makes it so much more beautiful.
Julian loves to draw you absentmindedly—it’s almost like an instinct, something that he can't stop even when he's lost in thought. He has many books filled with fast sketches that are almost abstract that he scribbles without even looking at the page, to incredibly detailed sketches that almost look like photos.
Parts of your day are recorded in those books like his own form of videoing you. Some are so attentive they could be made into a seamless stop motion.
Sometimes he even finds himself sitting on the bathroom floor as you bathe, talking to you as he once again absent-mindedly draws. finding inspiration for his next piece.
He’s obsessed with the little details. He gets lost in those details, and every sketch is a desperate attempt to capture your essence. But not necessarily just when he’s drawing either.
When he’s not drawing, Julian traces his fingers over your skin studying every part of you.
His love language is physical touch, though it’s always gentle and respectful. Gently running his fingers through your hair or resting a hand possessively on your waist.
But that doesn't mean he lacks in the other 4 departments. Like how he loves to whisper to you just how much you mean to him.
His feelings for you are intense, to the point of worship, though he doesn’t fully realise how deep his obsession runs, he doesn't do anything to correct it either.
Sometimes that can be overwhelming for you, especially going from such an ignored life to one in a lovely house, a handsome gentleman of a husband and the title of being a muse.
But you can't bring yourself to make him stop, he’s Prince Charming in your eyes.
You don’t see the way he glares or scowls at men who dare talk to you when you accompany him to town or an event. Or how he makes borderline cruel verbal jabs to women who try to take his attention from you even for a moment.
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mephisto-reporting · 29 days ago
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A Work of Art: With Rafayel
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Plot: Rafayel wants to go swimming with you but your insecurities have other plans. Based on this request Pairing: Chubby! reader x Rafayel Note: Rafayel and reader are not in a relationship but there is an implied mutual attraction. Content warning: insecurities, self depriciation, body image issues, angst (hurt-comfort).
Sylus version: More to love |
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It was another scorching day in Whitesand Bay, the heat wrapping itself around everything like a heavy blanket. Rafayel’s studio, though large and open, was still stifling, the heat seeping in through the windows, making it nearly unbearable. Yet, his energy remained constant, almost too infectious. He bounced around the space, flitting between his easel and a pile of freshly painted canvases, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” he teased, leaning against his easel with that insufferably cocky grin. “Thinking about me, aren’t you? Go on, admit it.”
You rolled your eyes, masking your discomfort with a half-hearted laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He chuckled, moving closer until he was just a breath away. “Oh, but I don’t need to, cutie. You already do it for me.”
You watched him from your spot, marveling at his effortless grace. He was in his element, his dusky purple hair falling into his face as he dabbed at the canvas with a brush. Occasionally, he’d glance back at you, a sly smile curving his lips.
“You know,” he began, his tone teasing, “you’d make the perfect muse. Why don’t you let me paint you sometime?”
You laughed softly, a sound you hoped didn’t betray the nervous flutter in your chest. “I don’t think I’d sit still long enough for you to finish.”
Rafayel turned, raising a brow in mock disapproval. “Nonsense. You’re perfect just as you are. Besides, I think I’d enjoy the challenge of capturing your essence.”
It was always like this with him. Playful. Flirtatious. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, even though you’d seen firsthand how easily he dismissed others. People fawned over him—his talent, his charm, his looks—but Rafayel never seemed interested. Yet with you, he was different.
But you couldn’t help the doubt that lingered in the back of your mind. What if this was just his way? You wanted to believe he was just being playful, that he didn’t mean it the way your heart desperately wished he did. Because how could someone like him—a vision of elegance and charisma—see someone like you in any other way?
You crossed your arms, tugging the fabric of your shirt tighter around you, as if it could shield you from his gaze. Rafayel always had a way of looking at you like he was trying to peel back layers, like he saw something you couldn’t. And it terrified you.
And then there was your body. Stretch marks, rolls, flabs. All the things you tried so hard to hide. Around Rafayel, you were especially self-conscious, always careful to cover up, to deflect attention away from yourself. He was an artist, after all, a man who revered beauty in all its forms. Surely, someone like him couldn’t find someone like you truly beautiful.
“Earth to you,” Rafayel’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you blinked up at him to find him staring at you, his hands on his hips.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, offering a weak smile.
“Sooooo, are you ready?” Rafayel called out, glancing over his shoulder at you. He leaned against the doorframe with that devilish grin of his—flirtatious and yet utterly carefree. You glanced up from your position by the window, attempting to push the self-doubt creeping into your chest as he beckoned you over.
“Ready for what?” you muttered, not eager to engage. The last thing you wanted was to deal with another one of Rafayel’s whims.
“A swim, cutie.” he declared, his voice light and teasing. “The ocean's calling us, don’t you think?”
You stiffened, already feeling the weight of the impending conversation. Swimming. Bathing suits. He’d see more of you. That thought alone sent a wave of panic rushing through you. No, I can’t—
“I—uh, I don’t know…” You trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. "I’m just not feeling it today."
“Oh come on,” he pouted, pushing away from the doorframe with exaggerated dismay. “It’s way too hot, and we could both use a break. Besides, I promised we’d do something fun today.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to avoid looking at him too long. What if he looks at me differently? Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. You’d been covering up around him for so long, hoping he’d never notice the things you tried so hard to hide.
“I don’t have my swimwear with me,” you quickly said, the excuse feeling weak as the words left your mouth.
Rafayel raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don’t have it? I’ll buy you one at the boutique down the road. They’ve got everything.” His voice was laced with amusement, but you could feel a twinge of impatience creeping into his words.
Your heart skipped a beat. No, no, no. I can’t do that. Not with him seeing me like that…
“I’m just… not really in the mood, Rafayel,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze. “You go ahead, I’ll just...Keep you company on  the beach.” You swallowed, your palms growing clammy. “I… I don’t feel like it. Maybe another time.”
“Another time?” he echoed, his tone flat. Then his voice softened, laced with curiosity. “What’s going on with you, really?”
“I said I’m not in the mood—”
“Don’t lie to me.” he interrupted, his playful demeanor gone. His gaze was sharp, piercing, as though he could see every thought running through your mind. “What’s wrong?”
The dam broke before you could stop it.
“I just… I can’t, okay? I don’t want you to see me like that!” The words tumbled out, fast and frantic. Your breathing hitched as panic clawed at your chest. “I’m… I’m fat, Rafayel. I have stretch marks, rolls, flab—whatever you want to call it. And you… you’re you. You’re perfect. Handsome. And you flirt with me, but that’s just who you are, right? You wouldn’t actually—how could you? Look at me!”
Your voice cracked, tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t stop now, even if you wanted to. “People like you don’t see people like me. Not really. And I don’t blame you, because who would want to? I’m not beautiful. I’m not anything. I’m just…” You trailed off, choking on the lump in your throat. “I am a whale. A big whale. People would look at us and wonder what someone like you is doing with someone like me. And you’re an artist! You see beauty everywhere, but what happens if you look at me and realize I’m—”
“Stop.”
The single word cut through your spiraling thoughts like a blade, sharp and unyielding. You froze, choking back a sob as you dared to meet his eyes. When you finally dared to look at him, Rafayel’s expression startled you. His playful smirk was gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded. His jaw was tense, his hands clenched at his sides. He looked… offended. No, furious.
“Are you done?” he asked, his voice low, trembling with restrained emotion.
You nodded, your heart sinking. Of course, he was angry. Why wouldn’t he be? You’d made a fool of yourself, ruined whatever fragile dynamic you had with him.
“Come with me.” He stretched out his hand, his movements sharp, deliberate.
“What?”
“Come. With. Me.” he repeated, his tone brooking no argument.
Hesitant, you placed your hand in his. His grip was firm, almost too tight, as he led you across the studio to a corner you’d never paid much attention to. A cluster of canvases sat there, each covered in white cloth.
Without a word, Rafayel grabbed the edge of one cloth and yanked it away.
Your breath caught in your throat.
It was a painting. Of you.
Not an embellished version of you, not some idealized fantasy, but you as you were. Your stretch marks, your curves, every detail you hated about yourself—it was all there. But somehow, in his brushstrokes, it was beautiful. They weren’t altered. They were you. Raw, honest, and breathtakingly beautiful. You were beautiful. The woman in the painting looked almost like an ethereal goddess, with all the features you’d tried to hide—your soft curves, your round face, the way your body naturally flowed—on full display. You barely recognized the figure, as if it wasn’t you at all.
There you were, sitting by the window, the sunlight kissing your skin. There you were again, lost in thought, your features softened by a dreamy expression. In another, you were laughing, your smile radiant, your body draped in soft fabrics that celebrated every curve, every line, every part of you that you had always tried to hide.
“This,” Rafayel said, his voice breaking the silence, “is how I see you. Do you even hear yourself?” His voice was low, trembling with an intensity you hadn’t expected. “You think I’d look at you—you—and see anything less than perfection? You think I’d waste my time on someone who wasn’t worth every second of it?”
You turned to him, your lips trembling. Your lips parted, but no sound came out.
“Every brushstroke, every color—I poured myself into these because I wanted to capture you. You. Not some distorted version of what the world says you should be. You, with your stretch marks, your rolls, your everything. Do you know how beautiful you are to me?” He uncovered another, and another. Each one a masterpiece, each one of you.
“This,” Rafayel said, his voice rough with emotion, “is how I see you. Not some distorted version of yourself you’ve convinced yourself I’d be ashamed of. This.”
Each one, a depiction of you—each angle, each pose, each moment captured with breathtaking beauty. You stared at the paintings in disbelief. He hadn’t changed anything about you. He hadn’t smoothed over the imperfections, hadn’t tried to make you look like someone else. He had captured you, exactly as you were, and in a way that made you look… beautiful. You were beautiful in every stroke, every shade of color he had used.
He stepped closer, his gaze softening as he looked at you, still reeling from the revelation.
“This is how I see you,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. His fingers brushed against your cheek, almost reverently. “As for this… whale business? Humans like to forget that whales are majestic creatures. Powerful. Graceful. They’ve been admired for centuries, not ridiculed. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Fishes come in all shapes and forms, and yet are beautiful. As are you. Your shape, your insecurities do not blemish your beauty in my eyes, they enhance it.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding. “I… I didn’t know.”
He gave you a small smile, that same devilish grin now softened with something far deeper. “In Lemuria, you’d be worshipped. Not shamed. You are beautiful, just the way you are, and I’m not going to let you forget that. You deserve to be seen, really seen, for all the beauty you have to offer. Every inch of it.”
You turned to face him, your vision blurry with tears. “You really think...?”
“I don’t just think it,” he interrupted, cupping your face with both hands. “I know it. In Lemuria, you would be the most beautiful woman to exist. Sought after. The very definition of beauty. And even if the entire world disagrees, it doesn’t matter, because to me, you are a work of art. And no matter what or who I paint, nothing could ever compare to you.”
His thumb brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek. “So don’t ever insult yourself like that again. And stop hiding from me. Stop hiding from the world. Because you’re perfect exactly as you are. Understand?”
You nodded, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions you couldn’t even begin to name.
Rafayel smiled then, soft and genuine. “Good. Now, about that swim...”
You laughed through your tears, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a little lighter. A little more... beautiful.
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AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom
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keeryhours · 2 months ago
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the emperor’s love - emperor geta
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Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader
Main Masterlist
Emperor Geta Masterlist
Summary:
Being pregnant with his heir has made Geta more in love with you than he ever could have imagined. He shows you just how much he loves you.
Part 1
Warnings:
Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, pregnancy
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N:
I wasn’t sure if I was going to write for Geta again, but he is actually living in my brain rent free. Another one inspired by my character letters by @miss-bushido, check out her writing and Etsy shop! I did research for this one, but I apologize in advance for historical inaccuracies! This is a part 2 to an heir for an emperor!
“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Geta mused, hand roaming over the growing expanse of your stomach. “A strong boy. The future of Rome is in your belly, you know that, Carissima?”
“And what if it’s a girl?” you asked, a giggle on your lips bringing a smile to the Emperor’s own.
“Then she shall take after her mother and be the most beautiful in all of Rome,” he said, hand caressing the skin of your belly. “And I’ll have to give you another.”
“Geta!” You playfully scolded, hand swatting at his as he laughed. “Another so soon?”
“Of course, my love. I need an heir. And to see you, swollen with child again so soon…” he leaned forward, pressing kisses to your neck. “Would be a gift. The gods have truly blessed me.”
You hummed, melting into his touch. You were sprawled together on your huge bed, dressed in your bed clothes for the night. His body curled behind yours, hands roaming your body wherever he pleased. Up and over your breasts, pinching at your nipples before moving back to your stomach; then down between your legs, feeling for the wetness he knew would be waiting for him.
“My love…” he whispered seductively against your ear. “Is there something you want?”
You whined, pressing back against him. He knew what you wanted, and he wanted it too. You could feel him already hard against your backside as he dipped his fingers between your folds. He collected your slick on his fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean, tasting your essence. “Divine,” he remarked. “Somehow, you taste even sweeter.”
He lifted your tunic over your body, baring you to the night and his eyes alone. His hands trailed over your soft skin, so beautiful and flawless in his eyes. Perfection sent to him from the gods themselves.
Geta undid his own robe, revealing his glorious body fully naked, cock hard and standing proud as he gazed down at you. “You are so beautiful, Carissima.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he drank in your beauty. “Will you sing for me tonight?”
You giggled, knowing he didn’t exactly mean a ballad. “Perhaps if I feel inspired, my Emperor…”
A wicked smile crossed his face as he leaned over you, kissing up your body until he reached your lips. “Oh, how beautiful a melody I could pull from those lips…let me show you.”
He gently moved you onto your side, careful of your stomach. Geta had treated you like you were made of glass since he discovered your pregnancy. He had been overjoyed, but if you thought he was overprotective before, he became a whole different beast with his beloved wife carrying his potential heir.
He consulted the augurs at the beginning of your pregnancy. Since then he has prayed daily to the goddesses of childbirth; Eileithyia, Hera, Juno. He has left them daily offerings at their temples and shrines to ensure the safe delivery of your child.
You always had an entourage with you with your servant staff, but now you had a guard of Praetorians following your every move, as well. Even servants to taste your food before you could eat. Speaking of your food, Geta suddenly insisted on you receiving the healthiest, finest foods in the Empire. He still allowed you your fig cakes, at least.
The only time you got any peace, any time alone, were these cherished nights in bed with your Emperor. When he dropped his cruel and ruthless persona and became your husband. He would take care of you, massage your belly with oils each night. It was your favorite part of the day.
Once you were comfortably laid on your side, Geta moved back behind you, his body spooning against yours. He brushed your hair back over your shoulder, placing kisses against the skin of your back. “Do you remember our wedding night?”
“How could I forget?” You smiled, the memory rushing back to you. It had been less than a year, but felt like a lifetime.
It had been a beautiful ceremony. Everything you could have dreamed of. Your father had been proud to marry his daughter to an Emperor. The augurs had been consulted by Geta himself to ensure propitious omens and favor from the gods. You wore your beautiful white tunica recta, a gorgeous veil atop your head. There had been a delicious cake, as he had heard of your sweet tooth beforehand.
Afterwards, Geta took you to the bridal lectus, where he took you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but writhing pleasure beneath him.
Geta hummed against your back. “Do you remember how I surprised you in your chambers before the ceremony?”
You blushed. Of course you did. It had been such a surprise to find Geta waiting for you in your chambers, you weren’t even supposed to see him before the ceremony. You had been scared at first, you still hardly knew one another and you had heard plenty of stories, but his plans for you had been more than pleasing.
“I simply had to have a taste of my bride to be,” he continued. “It was all I could think about once I saw you for the first time. It plagued me those three months of our betrothal leading up until our ceremony. It was all I could think of when I was alone. Even just touching your hand to place the ring on your finger…” You felt Geta shiver behind you. “Carissima, I was yours, body and soul.”
He reached down to grasp onto your thigh, lifting it up and over his own leg between yours. You felt his thick tip prodding at your entrance, and you sighed, already so responsive for him.
“You’ve been so sensitive since you have been carrying our child,” he remarked as his fingertips traced slowly over your clit, before dipping down to press inside of you. You gasped loudly - you could feel his smirk against your skin. “I absolutely love it.”
You moaned as he pumped his fingers into you a few more times, but you were so wet you really didn’t need any preparation. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan, before pressing his tip against your pussy once again.
He didn’t ask before he started sinking inside - the Emperor did not ask for permission. But he knew you would have given it over and over again had he asked. Your head fell back against him as he filled you from behind, holding your leg up high to allow him enough room to get as deeply inside as he liked to be.
He bottomed out quickly and began thrusting in and out of your perfect tight heat, groaning deeply against your neck. His fingertips dug into your thigh as he fucked you like you needed to be fucked. He knew your body better than anyone, even yourself.
“Carissima,” he moaned; a weakness in his voice he would never let anyone else witness. It was raspy, desperate for more of the perfect fit of your pussy. He called your name over and over again in your ear, the title never sounding more sinful than it did in that moment.
“You feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts, to have him fuck you harder. He didn’t like to take you roughly with you in your current state, not like he used to. You missed it desperately. “Please, my Emperor, take me harder.”
Geta groaned loudly at your words, his composure faltering as his sloppy thrusts stuttered. “My beloved,” he said, his raspy voice pained. “Do not say things such as that. You do not know how hard it is to keep my control.”
“Please,” you begged again, back arching as you felt your release beginning to build. “Please, Geta, please fuck me.”
His grip tightened on your thigh and he groaned again, like you were causing him physical pain. He thought to deny you once again, but his primal instincts took over and he began fucking into you fast and hard. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, and you were certain between that and the moans you were both emitting, the entire palace could hear your lovemaking.
“Close,” you whined out, eyes falling closed as your orgasm built faster and faster. You could feel your pussy beginning to clench around his cock, and he felt it too, his hips stuttering again as he neared his own imminent release.
“Sing for me,” he encouraged you, laying your thigh on his leg so he could move his hand between your legs. You cried out loudly as he paid delicious attention to your aching clit, and your orgasm hit you, pussy spasming hard around your Emperor’s thick cock.
“That’s it, Carissima, let all of Rome hear how you sing for me!”
Geta gripped back onto your thigh, fucking into you fast and hard with no rhythm until he finally stilled pressed against you, shooting rope after rope of his seed deep inside you as he let out the most divine moans you’d ever heard.
He rode out both of your releases, shallow thrusts until all of his cum had been spent inside of you. He pulled out, laying on his back next to you as his chest heaved with his breaths. He opened an arm for you, and you laid against him.
These moments of bliss were your absolute favorite. These moments of quiet and peace and love between you and your husband. It was rare for an Emperor to find a true love like this. Rare for a woman to be so lucky in her marriage. You reminded yourself of your fortune often.
You reached up, playing with a lock of his ginger hair. He smiled down at you lovingly, the look on his face one of pure adoration. The truth of it was seen in his eyes, to his very soul.
“The child will be here soon,” Geta said, his hand once again splayed on your large belly. “I have arranged for celebratory games to be held for the next two weeks. I want all of Rome to join in our celebrating the forthcoming birth of our heir.”
You turned to him. “Geta, I’m not sure I should-“
“Shh, my love,” he hushed you. “You do not have to attend, anaticula. I know you do not care for them. And I would rather keep you both safe from harm.”
You smiled gently at your husband. Somehow, he continued to surprise you with how much he loved and cared for you, and now the child in your belly, too. You knew no matter if it was a boy or a girl, Geta would be the perfect father, would love this child fiercely. He would not let harm come to either of you.
“He needs a strong name,” he thought to himself. “Lucius. Septimius. But perhaps we should meet him first? See what kind of personality he will have?”
“We do not yet know if it will be a he,” you teased him, your hand resting on your belly next to his. You felt a small kick beneath your hand and quickly grabbed Geta’s, moving it to that exact spot. After a moment of waiting, a grin spread across the Emperor’s face, pure jubilation evident in his eyes.
“Boy or girl, they’re nice and strong,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “I love you, Carissima.”
You smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, my beloved.”
Geta rubbed your belly gently, soothing your nausea and pains as you relaxed into him in your large, plush bed. As you began to drift off to sleep in the arms of your Emperor, you heard his quiet voice one last time in your ear.
“Nunc scio quid sit amor. Now I know what love is.”
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beomcoups · 3 months ago
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fated strut- pt. i
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̗̀➛ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: greek god!Jeonghan x model!reader
̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In a whirlwind fashion show, a part-time model's life takes a mystical turn when she becomes the muse for the captivating Greek God Jeonghan. Unbeknownst to her, she shares a deep connection tied to his past. As their chemistry ignites amidst secrets and rivalries, will love conquer their complicated fates?
̗̀➛ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy, doppleganger au, r 18+
̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nocturnal emission (sex dream), unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, backshots, riding, oral, biting, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, pet names, sweet stuff, a lil bit of squirting, cream pie, oh and cursing 😂
̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k
̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐍: This fic has had me stressed for the last couple of months lol. I have always been into greek mythology (I even hosted a multi collab before for it) and I got the idea earlier this year to do another one but just for seventeen. Thank you Maren @wooahaeproductions for hosting the 13 Gods Of Olympus collab with me and helping it come to life. Also thank you to @hannieween and @hobeemin for beta reading this and giving me some much needed feedback. I knew what I had was good and with your help it made it better :) also thank you to @cheolism and @junkissed for letting me run some ideas with them about the greek mythology and the BC era lol. I hope you like this 🖤
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Golden light filters through your curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the room. The scent of something sweet—honey and vanilla—lingers in the air, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. Everything feels so real and vivid, so alive. There is a haze in the light that looks nostalgic. 
You are sitting on a kline, handcrafted by Hephaestus himself, weaving away with a ball of twine in your hands. The clatter of sandals against the hard floor gets your attention. Looking up, Jeonghan is standing there, his blonde hair shimmering in the light, with a playful smile on his lips. 
“Shouldn’t be off delivering those messages to the mortals?” You tease him playfully. 
“They can wait,” he says, setting down his bag. “I have more pressing matters to attend to.” 
“Oh?” You slowly set down your twine. “What is that?” 
He walks over and kisses you deeply, sending ripples through your soul. You realize quickly that the “pressing matter” was that he wanted to be inside of you, and you were more than happy to oblige. 
“Jeonghan, you’re going to get in trouble with Zeus,” you taunt him. 
“I don’t care,” he grits, pulling you into another kiss.
You take off your gown, your nakedness exposed to him in all its glory. Jeonghan’s eyes you with adoration and lust, his hand palming the growing bulge under his toga. Sheer excitement runs through your veins, the thought of being roughly fucked on the kline making you wet with arousal. As if he read your mind, he tugs at your hair and bends you over, his fingers seductively playing with your sweet folds. 
“You’re already so wet for me, my love?” He licks your essence coated on his digits. “I have to break the rules more often.”
Your laugh is light as the air, anticipating and craving him deeply. You find yourself pressing your clit, spreading your legs apart, and rubbing it so he can get a better view. Jeonghan licks his lips at the sight before him, his hand stroking his cock as he lines up to your entrance. 
“Please,” your breathy moans floating in the room. “Give it to me.” 
“As you wish,” he murmurs as he inserts himself in your clenching heat. Your back arches as his thrusts go deep, the clapping sound of your skin against his hard and loud enough to create thunder from the heavens. Jeonghan looks down in amusement, watching your ass bounce every time he snaps his hips. He’s turned on and seduced, and you could have him turn into puddy with just one look. That’s how much he is into you. That’s how much he loves you. 
“You feel s-so g-good,” you barely sound out. “I-I love you.”
Jeonghan pulls you by your hair, his thrusts unrelenting as he kisses you hard. “I love you too.”
He raises his leg on the kline, pushing you back down, and strokes you from another angle. Your legs shake, your peak nearing as he continues to hit your pleasure points in all the right ways. “FUCK” is all you can scream out before you come undone, your essence squirting all over him and the floor. You are a whimpering mess, clutching the edge of the kline as he continues his onslaught until his release comes shortly after. He fills you up with his hot load, pumping his dick until he is spent, slowly slipping out of you. The loss is evident, and his cum starts to drip in between your folds. 
“Uh, uh,” he frowns as he crouches behind you. “We can’t leave that to waste, can we?”
He swipes what’s dripping down your leg with his fingers, returning them to your mouth to suck. You suck them with earnest, your eyes closing with sexual gratification. He turns you wild, and you want more. You attempt to initiate another round, but you are interrupted by the sound of thunder just outside your window, scaring you half to death.
“Sounds like the big guy is mad,” Jeonghan reluctantly pulls away. “I have to go.”
“Yeah, I know,” you nod, kneeling down to grab your gown. “You’ll be back, right?” 
He gazes at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen, letting him pull you close into another kiss. “Don’t I always come back?”
Your world shifts into a fading memory, the golden haze slowly replaced with stark brown walls and paintings. Jeonghan is gone. The thunder outside is as real as ever, followed by a bolt of lightning that feels too close to home. Reality slowly sets in, and you realize you are having a dream. This is the second one you have had this week with Jeonghan, the infamous Greek god. It feels natural, like you’re watching a memory of yourself, and you don’t understand it. 
You frantically grab your journal, jotting down every moment before the details get fuzzy and lost forever. This has to mean something, right?
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A few weeks later...
You feel the galvanic buzz of anticipation humming as you stand backstage at Paris Fashion Week. Models twirl past you, dripping in the latest haute couture, their expressions exuding fierceness. You? You were just happy to be there. As the last-minute addition, the unexpected wildcard about to open the show—your heart races, matching the rhythm of the music that spills into the warehouse. The scent of expensive cologne and crepitus excitement lingers around you.
You weren’t even supposed to be here at all. You model in your part-time to pay the bills, but your real love, your true passion, is classical studies—specifically, your focus on Greek mythology. Growing up, you’ve always heard the stories of the Gods who ruled the world and how slowly but surely they started disappearing because people quit believing in them. Your mom, who raised you pagan, would tell you about missionaries coming over and preaching the Bible and using it in force, and people started losing their way and adapting to this new life. There are still gods amongst us who will never go away, no matter what. People are still human and have needs, after all.
That’s what brought you here tonight—Jeonghan, the god of many things, keeps appearing in your dreams; scenes of a past life take up much of your night, and you can’t ignore it anymore. You have to see and know him, and you aren’t above using unconventional methods to get what you want. You cozied up to the right people and got yourself cast onto his fashion show. Sometimes, all it takes is a look, a touch of your hand, or very selective words to get what you want. You aren’t sure you would call it a power… let’s just say you are persuasive.
“Thank the gods you are here tonight,” the stage manager, Lea, says as she adjusts your dress. “I can’t believe she didn’t show up.”
The model that was supposed to open up the show, Penelopeia, partied a little too hard the night before. How do you know this? You were right beside her, dancing and drinking the night away. You knew her in passing, working for the same modeling agency, and talked here and there, but you two aren’t friends. But you were out with acquaintances last night, and she was there. Ultimately, she is a grown woman and can make her own choices, but you might’ve given her some extra encouragement when she complained about her being tired and “needing” a break. You told her it was “fine” to blow off some steam, which wouldn’t mean anything. The touch of your hand when you held hers and listened to her cry about how tough her life is and whispered nothings in her ear. It was perfect. 
“Are you ready?”
You nod as the music changes, the lights dim, and you take your place behind the runway. Your heartbeat matched the drum's beat in your ears. 
“I'm like some kind of supernova... watch out!”
On cue, you walked, every gaze drawn to you as your body moved to the beat, each step a spell cast upon the audience. Unbeknownst to you, Jeonghan stood backstage, mesmerized by the essence you exuded, a natural allure that made him curious with its intensity.
You circle the runway and walk back to where you came from, your body on autopilot as your linen dress sashes across your body. You are rushed backstage, the dress slipping off of you hurriedly, briefly exposing your breasts while you are putting on another. You feel eyes burning into the back of your neck, and you instinctively turn around, meeting Jeonghan's soft brown eyes. His warm blonde locks hang below his ears, touching his delicate neck. He smirked, raising his glass of red wine, and you meekly looked away, clearly affected by a god's presence.
Jeonghan watches you intently as you take another lap around the runway. The familiarity of your presence slowly creeps in, and curiosity is taking care of the cat. He’s been around for a long time now, and he’s seen a lot of faces, old and new. But you remind him of an old lover from his past life, someone he prefers to keep buried in the back of his mind. You were clearly a doppelganger of her, and watching you in the flesh unnerves him to his core. There is no need to bring up thousands-year-old drama now. You’re in front of him now, beautiful as ever, and despite every red flag— he will have you wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night. 
You walk backstage and are dragged to the side by your dresser, who is adjusting your clothes one last time for your final walk. She fusses with your hair, a small annoyance you put up with because you know she is doing her job. You find yourself searching for Jeonghan through the slew of models, your eyes not resting until you see him talking to his stage assistant near the beginning of the runway. He is a god in every sense of the word. Butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach when you see his soft, delicate features and how he carries himself. Very deific, very mindful. 
“He’s mesmerizing, isn’t he?”
You slowly come out of your self-induced trance, meeting the eyes of your dresser, Helen, a younger woman who couldn’t be older than 21. Her doe-eyed look makes her look innocent, and you feel the need to protect her from this cruel industry. 
“He’s okay,” you clear your throat. 
“Oh please, he’s a divine enigma,” Helen chuckled, a playful smirk gracing her lips. “It’s perfectly natural to admire someone’s allure, especially someone so utterly enchanting as HIM.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at her outburst, knowing that deep down, she was right. Jeonghan is the sexiest man you have ever laid eyes on. It doesn’t help that he is the god of fortune, luxury, and all the other things that make him much more attractive. 
“Okay, it’s time to do the final walk,” Helen announces as she finishes up. “You are going to walk out with him in front since you technically walked first in the show.”
You gaze at Jeonghan across the way, watching him wrap up his conversation with the stage assistant. “Is this custom? I thought usually the models walk out one final time, and then the designer comes out towards the end.” 
“Usually, yeah,” Helen shrugs. “But that’s not how Jeonghan does things.”
She lightly pushes you towards the front, catching his attention as the strobe lights change colors. You glowed in your dress, symbolizing a halo of beauty that made it hard for Jeonghan to turn away. This catches him off guard, a strange chill running through his veins that he is unfamiliar with. Keeping himself in line, he saunters over to you, his close proximity filling your stomach with butterflies. 
“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “I don’t bite.”
The thought of his perfect mouth giving you love bites thrills you, and an intense longing starts to brew within your core. Feeling bold, you smile softly, responding in a tone only he could hear. 
“Well, that’s too bad.” 
Jeonghan chuckles lightly, impressed by your cheekiness. He slips his arm between yours, waiting for the curtains to open. The light touch of his arm brushing against yours gives you goosebumps, the exuberance bubbling inside you. You’ve studied him all your life, read the stories, and visited the ancient sites from many moons ago. You have never been near a Greek god, let alone touch one, and for a moment, you forget why you were really there. You were just a pretty model, attracted to the most successful man in the world, and the way he looks at you right now is setting your loins on fire. 
The curtains finally open, and you walk with him arm and arm like you were his equal. The other models did as they were supposed to do, walking behind you as you two set the runway ablaze. You stood in the center while he gave his bows; the audience applauded in crescendos. Jeonghan then returns to your side, his presence intoxicating and making you almost lose your senses. You walk in unison until you reach backstage, and Helen is waiting for you to help you out of your dress. Before you parted ways, he lightly touched your hand, grabbing your attention and Helen’s, with raised eyebrows.
“I’m interested in sharing another stage with you,” he whispers, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. “Without all the light and people watching us. Beyond the runway.” 
You cock an eyebrow playfully, putting on your best poker face, but inside, nervousness eats at you alive. You know you shouldn’t do this, as your sole reason was to find answers about him and why he encompasses your every dream. It took a lot of sweet talking and favors to get you in his lineup, let alone starting the show and inadvertently being his muse of the day. You knew you were going to have to mix your business with pleasure, and with the way he is gazing at you, the business is going further in the back of your mind. 
“Where do I sign up?” You say coyly, rubbing your finger against the fabric of his shirt. 
“Meet me in the back in fifteen minutes, and I’ll take you to my place.” 
You nod, and he leaves you with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don’t be late.”
You watched him walk away, still feeling his warm lips on your cheek. You kept it cool, casually grabbing your things, but inside, you were buzzing, excitement bursting through your chest like fireworks. You weren’t sure what the night would bring, but you would never turn down the possibility of being in the company of a Greek god. 
You make your way to the back as directed, exchanging goodbyes with Helen and watching the models leave one by one. Fifteen minutes exactly, Jeonghan appears, twirling his car keys in his hands and opening the back door for you, leading you to a classic Mercedes Benz 250CE. He opens your door like the gentleman he is, making sure you are secure in your seat before coming over to the driver’s side. 
“Are you ready to go, doll?”
You nod, your sparkling eyes matching your smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”
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The car ride was a short one, but it felt like it was going on forever. He played smooth jazz, driving with one hand and conveniently placing his hand on your thigh. Your mind was filled with thoughts of your dreams—the intimacy you felt and the sadness that tormented you when he disappeared. 
“You seem comfortable,” Jeonghan observed. “Most people would be scared to be with me.”
“Well, I have a feeling I am in good hands,” you answer honestly. 
You had so many questions about him as a Greek god, as it's not often (or really at all) that you can talk to one. Despite these waves of emotions tugging at your heart, you maintained a flawless facade until you arrived at his residence, a beautiful hotel that housed penthouses only the wealthy lived in.
“Welcome in.” 
The housekeeper greeted you as you walked into Jeonghan’s penthouse, located in the heart and soul of Paris. The interior was dripped in luxury, feeling more like an art gallery than a place to live. Everything has a place, and it makes you nervous about even moving around in the event you accidentally bump into something. The vinyl player played soulful jazz, a fancy concert piano was in the corner and hundreds of books lined up like his own personal library. Jeonghan guides you by your waist to the kitchen, a grand spectacle of the finest cooking ware, dishes, and appliances that were way above your budget. You sit on a stool while he pours you a glass of red, the finest from Chateauneuf du Pape.
“Nice place,” you sweet talk him. “I would say you must’ve worked hard to get all this, but I know better.”
“Do you?” He counters, handing you your glass. “Do you think you know everything?”
“I know what I know from books, archives, etcetera,” you explain casually. “It’s not like I can ring up Zeus and ask him to read me a bedtime story.” 
His lips curve as he chuckles, watching you sip the rich ruby-red liquid in your glass. “You have a sense of humor. I like that.”
You smirked, leaving him to his thoughts as you walked towards the large picture window, looking at the Eiffel Tower. It’s late, but the city has so much life in it. The tall, grandeur buildings that have stood through the ages are accompanied by French lights and taxis flying back and forth at night. Between your studies, walking runways, and doing commercial shoots, it was a matter of time before you made it out of the United States and into Paris. 
You aren’t this in-demand model agencies are banging the door down for. But when you come to work, you work. You know how to convince people to take a chance on you, whether it's your words of intellect or how you pose. Your mom always taught you to be observant and scope the scene before you act; that advice hasn’t stirred you wrong before. 
In the window's reflection, you watch Jeonghan gently place his glass on the table, the soft clink barely breaking the serene silence. He strides to your right, his presence warm and magnetic as he stands beside you, eyes mesmerized by the sprawling cityscape before you. 
“So why are you here? Aside from the obvious.”
Jeonghan’s question catches you off guard, stirring you out of your peaceful daydream.
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, baby,” Jeonghan cocks his head. “Don’t play coy.”
Your response hangs in the air as you search for the right words. How do you confess to a god that you've been dreaming of them without knowing why? You are sure they have heard it all before, and you wouldn’t be any different.
“Honestly speaking,” you start, taking another sip of your wine. “I’ve studied you all my life: the Greek Gods and the beings you used to be on Earth. Your stories fascinate me, and I want to put this master’s degree in classical studies to good use.”
“Uh huh,” Jeonghan hums. “Are you sure that’s it?” 
“I mean, I may have other reasons… but I can’t tell you all my secrets.”
You finish the remnants in your glass, sauntering and setting it next to his. You glance up, your heart beating fast as you meet his gaze. He watches you intently, a spark of amusement dancing in his beautiful brown eyes as he watches you internally squirm. At that moment, it feels as though the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and you feel yourself being sucked into his spell. 
“Well, are you going to stare at me all night or show me around this place?”
You raise your hand, waiting for him to grab it and lead the way. He does just that, showing you around his massive penthouse. You don’t know if you could ever afford this place even if you had all the money in the world. Every room has its bathroom, and the balcony is beautifully decorated with a view to die for. You notice another room with more books than the collection you saw earlier, and you make a note later to ask about it… even hoping to take a peek at potentially ancient history. 
 Jeonghan slipped his hand on your waist as the tour went on, pulling you close like you were already his. His slender fingers held on to you kind of tight, like he was imprinting on you… You can’t say you don’t like that. 
You stop in front of his bedroom, the dark forest green double-doored room paired with gold handles waiting to be opened. You gaze at Jeonghan, who leans against the door, casually putting his hands in his pockets. 
“Is there a reason why we are just standing here?” You pose, playing with the hem of his shirt.
“No reason at all,” he responds, pulling you closer to him. “I just like looking at my bedroom door closed, that’s all.”
You raise an eyebrow, quite aware that he is teasing you. Being around him gives you a rush through your veins, a magnetic pull that sets your nerves and soul on fire. You know you should be doing a better job fighting this attraction between you two, but being around him makes you slowly lose all of your senses. He’s intoxicating; you feel hazy, like you are in a dream and don’t want to wake up. 
“So, are you going to sweet talk me in front of this door all night, or are you going to let me in?”
He chuckles softly as he opens his doors, leading to a grand master bedroom that all of the words in the dictionary couldn’t come close to describing. You knew he was the god of luxury, but what’s in front of your eyes exceeds that. This is opulence in its purest form. His massive king-size bed was decked with the finest white blankets and pillows filled with goose feathers that looked handcrafted with care. Your toes bask in the softest fur rug you have ever touched. It felt like you were walking on clouds. Jeonghan motions for you to sit on the bed, taking your hand as he helps you climb up. Your dress rises a bit, exposing your inner thigh to your surprise and his delight. 
“Don’t get any ideas,” you rib, crossing your legs slowly. 
“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll give me an invitation by the end of the night.”
You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you adjust your dress. Watching him move with purpose to his shelf, he pulls out a vinyl and puts it in the player. Recognizing Billie Holiday's distinct and powerful voice, you lean back into the pillows and watch him approach the other side of the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the lights dim, opening the curtains and revealing another side of Paris, a quieter one that shows the city below. The ceiling separates slowly, revealing a twilight blue skyline with dark clouds surrounding you. It’s beautiful. 
You feel the bed shift on your left, and Jeonghan climbs quietly, his movements as light as a cat. He lifts the comforter, a gentle invitation for you to come under as his feet disappear under the thick cover. 
“Are you this friendly with all the women you bring over?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” his laugh is light as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Just the ones I like.” 
You nod, following his lead and slowly basking into the warm cover. You can still see him in the low light, his radiance shining through the dark room. Maybe it’s because of your extensive research of him and your knowledge, but he feels familiar. Every fiber in your body tells you to pull closer to him and confess every little thought swirling in your head. Is this what it’s like to be in front of a god?
“So, a master's in Classical Studies, huh?” Jeonghan probes, his index finger making a swirling motion on his sheets. “Let me guess, you have a focus on Greek mythology?”
Despite putting on your best poker face, you felt like something bitter went down your throat. He caught you off guard, and to be frank, it’s your fault. The god of many things and the most intelligent being to walk on this Earth would of course know who you are. He probably had your whole life story while you walked on his runway. 
“Ah,” you exhale. “You must think I’m crazy.” 
“Nah, I don’t,” he assures. “I’m very intrigued by you.”
“Are you?” 
“Yes. You’re smart, carry yourself well, almost as witty as me, and very well-spoken. Why do you choose to model instead of working in something with your degree?”
You stare at him, his words chipping away at your exterior piece by piece. You could sit here and come up with a lie that sounds plausible and keep your secrets. But you want to know why he keeps plaguing your dreams, and maybe he has the answers you need to make sense of this. Some honesty can’t hurt, right?
“I… like the attention,” you confess. “I like the way people look at me when I walk by. I love being adored and wanted. I like that I am so educated and an effective communicator that I can talk myself into things I want to be in. That and my looks combined? I don’t get turned down often.”
Jeonghan gazes at you, wondering if he should be amazed at your self-awareness or frightened. Admittedly, your confidence turns him on, and you have the kind of intellect he likes on a deeper level. Your voice is calm and seductive without even trying, and not to mention, you have a timeless beauty that makes it hard to look away. When you walked down that runway, your stride was a beautiful masterpiece—it held him captive. It was as if you were trained by Aphrodite herself. 
“Plus, I am not totally abandoning my degree,” you continue on. “I want to eventually write about the Greek gods and the legends behind them. So many stories and their lore have been forgotten as people worship other gods, and I don’t want that to be forgotten. It feels like a passion project, but I know this will benefit the world somehow.”
“How?”
“Well,” you clear your throat. “It will provide a different perspective of ancient civilization.”
You run your hands through your hair, causing the v top of your dress to shift slightly, partially revealing your cleavage. You reach down to adjust it, and Jeonghan eyes your every move as you gradually slide your dress back up. It’s your favorite dress, which you picked up at a thrift store a long time ago in New York. It’s a jade green evening dress that hugs your body the right way, with a mid-thigh split on the right. 
“You’re quiet,” you observe, shifting your body closer to him. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing, just taking in what you said.” He pauses, his finger slowly sliding down to the slit of your dress. “I like the way you think.”
You nod, carefully choosing your next words. “I’m glad I made you feel that way.”
Your insides are on fire, begging for him to touch you in all the wrong right places. As if he could read your mind, he pulls you in for a kiss, his soft lips tearing down any walls you had. In a swift motion, he’s on top of you, hiking your dress up as he grinds his growing bulge against your sensitive core. A pleased hum escapes your lips, your body completely giving in to him.
“Mmm, you smell sweet,” Jeonghan utters, biting the bottom of your lip. “I’m sure you’ll taste just as good.”
His lips travel down your neck, sucking on your smooth skin until it's tender. Your hands desperately grab onto his silky blond hair as his tongue plays in circles along your collarbone, igniting a fire in you. You slowly lower the straps of your dress, tugging at the silky fabric until it lowers completely, revealing your breasts. Jeonghan marvels at the sight in front of him, his fingers brushing softly against your nipples. 
“Ah, you’re a goddess,” he whispers. “I’m going to have fun with you.”
He kisses you again, his hunger for you hot and strong as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his smooth chest and defined abs. Fire and desire burn between you two, and you thirstily tug at his pants, pushing them down so you can see his cock, threatening to break free in his boxers. 
“You are an eager little thing, aren’t you?” 
“I just know what I like, that’s all.” 
Leaving you with one last kiss, he moves on your breasts, cupping them softly and sucking on your nipples with such tenderness as if they were prized possessions. Your perfume mix smells pleasant to him, like an aphrodisiac, and he cannot get enough. Jeonghan usually likes to play with his food a bit before he eats it, but you bring something out of him that he hasn’t felt in a long time: impulsiveness and passion. He wants you more than he cares to admit, making him act out of his cool, calm, and collected nature. He sucks on your nipples harder, earning a hard moan from you, the blend of pleasure and pain igniting waves of excitement that leaves you breathless. 
His hand slips in between your legs, pushing them apart and sliding your panties to the side. His thumb rubs your clit softly, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. Jeonghan has you feeling like you are floating on air, unable to tell him what you want coherently. 
“Mmm… fuck I can’t take this,” you mutter. 
“Well, you will learn tonight, baby,” Jeonghan smirks as he lowers himself to your sweet entrance. “Tell me what you want.” 
“F-fuck,” you cooed. “You know what I want.”
“Just because I am a god doesn’t mean I can read your mind,” he teases, biting softly on your thigh. “Tell me what you want.”
You feel hot and rabid, trying to chase a high you are so close to getting. Jeonghan removes his thumb from your nub, snickering as he watches you groan in protest. He is determined to make you beg for it, and watching you squirm and fall apart underneath him would be the highlight of his night. He inserts a digit inside your wet core; a sweet smile spreads across your face soon after. 
“J-Jeonghan,” you sputter. “P-please just—”
“Say it, baby.” 
“Fuck, just make me cum, please.” 
Jeonghan slips a second finger into you, leaving small kisses on your thigh as he thrusts into your wet cunt. Your hands grip the sheets as he goes deeper, watching excitedly as your essence coats his fingers and his sheets. He planned to study you, explore what made you tick, and how your body liked to be teased. He wants to hear your perfect voice scream his name as your body shakes from being royally fucked by a god, and the way you are laid out in front of him, he is losing all composure. 
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I think you deserve to cum now.” 
Quickly removing his fingers, he dives into your wet folds with his tongue and up to your sensitive clit. His fingers intertwine with yours, eating you with such a craze, the hunger of a starved being who is eating his favorite meal for the last time. The vibrating hums of his mouth to your delicate flower sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing down on you hard. He holds onto your thighs, holding you hostage as he takes everything you got. You proved him right—you tasted just as sweet as your perfume. He’s addicted to your aroma, a natural aphrodisiac that he will never get enough of. 
“There you are, princess, ” he whispers. “Keep giving it to me.”
Your moans turn into whines and then screams, your fingers desperately clinging to the sheets as he drinks you in. Jeonghan’s appetite is insatiable, and the god’s thirst for you is getting stronger by the minute. His nails dig into your thighs as he licks up and down your folds, desperate to taste more of your sweet essence. You feel airy, your body floating on cloud nine as if you have never had this kind of pleasure before. Sure, you have had your experiences and what you thought was the best sex of your life, but those don’t even come close to this.
“Come on baby, give me another,” he goads you. “I know you have it in you.” 
“J-Jeonghan,” you croak, desperation falling on your lips. “P-please. You win.”
“Win?” He chuckles softly. “ I haven’t even started.” 
His fingers return to your entrance, thrusting into you while his tongue remains on your clit. His lips make lewd noises, slurping and smacking away as he bullies you into your second orgasm of the night. Your toes curl, the springs in your abdomen snapping as it ripples through you like a hard wave. Jeonghan moans into your sweet core as you surrender to him; his pupils dilate as he takes the remaining energy that you have left. His free hand furiously pulls down his boxers, liberating his cock, and he touches himself at last.  He jerks himself to the thought of your mouth wrapped around his dick, tasting his cum as he shoots loads down your throat. He could easily stop and make his imagination a reality, but you just taste too damn good. 
“Damn,” you curse, brushing his hair from his face. “You are so good at this.” 
“Mmhmm,” is all he could say, his cruel tongue still playing circles around your clit. You lift yourself away from him, watching him pout as you take his meal. You can barely move, your legs still spasming from that earth-shattering orgasm. Your eyes travel lower to his freed cock, watching him pump himself with such eagerness, the precum oozing from his tip begging to be sucked. He was thick and girthy, his veins popping in places you liked. Your mouth salivates at the thought of tasting him in your mouth. 
“Can I?”
You sit up, gently motioning for him to lay back on the pillow. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he does what he is told, relaxing his hands behind his head. Jeonghan isn’t used to his playmates wanting to take control in the bedroom; most of them just want to have a story to tell about being fucked by a god. You excite him, a confident woman who knows what they want and isn’t apologetic about it. The twinkle in your eye you have for him turns him on, and he is counting the seconds where he can finally be inside of you. 
Your hand slides up his shaft, watching him shudder from your touch. You lean down, sucking on his tip and tasting his precum. You make eye contact as you take more of him, hallowing your cheeks and letting saliva drip out of the corners of your mouth. He tastes better than you imagined, and you feel gratification watching his lips part and low moans escape his pretty little mouth. You feel dirty, like his own personal whore, and you aren’t mad at that. Your very sensitive core still wants him, your clit pulsating at the thought of his very thick cock beating your walls down. 
“You look so beautiful with your lips wrapped around me, princess,” he grunts, taking a handful of your hair. “Let’s see if you can handle me.” 
Jeonghan fucks your mouth roughly with such a force and rhythm that was only his, tears streaking your face as you take him whole. His dick hits the back of your throat, and you are thankful that you have a mean gag reflex. It’s smooth, clean, and fits your mouth just right. It’s like it was molded and shaped just for you. Your hand sneaks in between your legs, playing with your nub and willing yourself to cum for the third time. 
“Tsk, tsk, you dirty girl,” Jeonghan murmurs between grunts. “You do want me that bad? Do you want my cock inside your wet cunt?”
You nod fervently, your fingers increasing their pace. He pulls himself out of your mouth suddenly, lifting your head and kissing you with such an intense fire, his hands grasping your ass and giving it a tight smack. 
“I want to ride you, baby,” you breathe between kisses. “I want to feel you inside of me. Give me that, please.” 
He wants you as bad as you want him, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he positions himself on the bed. His hands grab your hips, hovering over him as he aligns his cock to meet your entrance. The thought came to your mind about using a condom, but it went away quickly when you sunk onto him. He feels good; your walls tighten around him as you adjust to his size, rocking slowly back and forth to get a rhythm. 
“That’s it,” Jeonghan groans as he cups your breasts. “Take me however you want me.”
You increase your pace while he bucks into you, biting your lip until it's crimson red. His nails dig into your hips, the pain mixed with the pleasure sending you soaring through cloud nine. You lose all inhibition, riding him harder and deeper, addicted to chasing that orgasmic high that you feel coming sooner than you’d expected. Your body is on autopilot, refusing to stop until you’ve cummed on him at least once. If you didn’t know any better, you would say you were falling in love with him. The sex you had with him in your dreams doesn’t even come close to the real thing. His cock consistently hits all the right places, and he pays great attention to your body, teasing you and pushing you to your limits until you are sent over the edge. 
Jeonghan grabs you by your neck and kisses you deeply, thrusting deeper into you until you can no longer keep your composure. He loves watching you lose control, surrendering your body to him and screaming his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. His lips are slightly parted, whispering sweet things in your ear, praising you for taking him so well and rewarding you with filling you up with his cum. You look every bit fucked out and heavenly to him, and he wishes he could stay buried inside of you forever. What he feels for you is risky, and if it were someone else, he would turn those feelings off. But with you and the way you are taking him so well, he is completely into you. 
He helps you ride out your high, kissing you from your lips to your collarbone until you are overripe with sensitivity. Slowly lifting you, he lays you gently on his right, allowing you to catch your breath. 
“I-I don’t think I have ever been fucked like that before,” you confess in between breaths. “Are you sure you’re not the god of love?”
Jeonghan chuckles, putting on a robe and heading towards the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he notices a few scratches you left, noticeable dig marks from your nails that dug into his skin. He shrugs them off, knowing that the next day, they will disappear, and it will be like they were never there. He’s been on this Earth for a long time and has slept his way through all the women and men he desired, but this night with you has topped all of them. He feels a connection with you mentally and spiritually, and after feeling you for the first time, he is determined to keep you by his side. By all means. 
Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, the day’s events catching up to you as your body acclimates with the sheets. You hear soft water running from the bathroom, and a few seconds later, Jeonghan appears in front of the door, his robe removed and naked. You glance at him and smirk, slowly getting out of bed and walking towards him. He is a divine enigma indeed. 
“Don’t worry, darling,” he assures you. “It’ll be a nice, relaxing bath.” 
His bathroom was definitely tailored to his taste. It had white and forest green marble floors, a shower stall big enough for more than three people centered in the middle, and two vanity sinks placed on opposite ends of each other. The tub was round and spacious, placed by the circular window that allowed you to see the stars at night. You slowly step into the foaming water, the sweet aroma of vanilla and bergamots filling your senses and pleasing your soul. Jeonghan comes in behind you, the water slightly splooshing around as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You relax on his chest, feeling at peace as you stare outside the window. It feels so natural, feeling this comfortable around him. 
Your dreams of him show that you two had a successful relationship. You were partners in everything. He was good at communicating, and you knew how to support him and could persuade anyone if needed. You understood your roles, and you were perfect. So why do they always end with you walking away?
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jeonghan’s voice breaks through your reverie. 
He unwraps his arms around you, places his hands on your shoulders, and gives you a comforting massage. You close your eyes, letting the steam from the warm water relax your muscles. 
“Heading back home,” you sigh heavily. “I have some go-sees to book and also continue my research. I have to put these looks and my big brain to use.”
“Yeah, no, you’re not,” Jeonghan declares smoothly. “I want you to stay here and work for me. Become my new muse.”
He watches you react closely, his eyes shining with mischief. “Just think about it. You would be my inspiration, my spark. Imagine the kind of magic we would create together.”
He catches you off guard but excites you nevertheless. Jeonghan wants to make you the face of his brand. You would be crazy to turn that down. Plus, it makes you so much closer to your research and figuring out your dreams. This was the universe giving you a sign.
“Yeah,” you say after thinking it over. “I would be open to that.”
You sink further into his chest, your tiredness getting the best of you, and falling into a slumber in the warm water. Jeonghan leaves light kisses on your shoulder, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms. He could go for another glass of wine, a perfect way to top off his night with you. He knows getting entangled with his ex-lover’s doppelganger is risky business, and eventually, he will have to deal with the truth of things. But tonight is not the night to open Pandora’s box and bring up the ancient feelings and heartache that he’s put behind. Instead, he will lay here with you, enjoying the sereneness while it lasts. 
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vifilms · 4 months ago
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≛ LONELY IS THE MUSE!
❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞
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feat. bodyguard!abby x famous actor!reader
warnings. eighteen+, suggestive nsfw content: reader fell first nd and abby fell harder, some angst, fluff, slightly coded fem reader, personal trainer!abby, just two idiots pining. i saw the discourse for some romance and i wanted to do my part. enjoy friends.
LONELY IS THE MUSE, entangled in an endless web of a high profile life, everyone waiting on you hand and foot, hollywood’s star in their prime — everyone needing a piece for themselves. yet the mysterious blonde who has not a clue to who you are catches the eye of the lonely muse.
wc. 8k
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“You know you don’t have to stand this close to me.” Abby counters, but her words didn’t make you move an inch. Not that she really thought they would. Secretly, she enjoys your gentle touch. She likes how comfortable you feel around her. The downpour in New York has your arm entangled with her own, your hand gripping her bicep as she holds the umbrella.
“Maybe, but I don’t want to ruin my hair.” You replied gently, as you rested your head against her relaxed bicep.
“God, forbid your hair be in ruin, sweet girl.” Abby’s wet lips look inviting, especially when she’s smirking at you. Delectable, enticing, desired seeping underneath your soul as you try your best to keep them at bay. 
“Now that would be positively tragic, wouldn’t it? Just a paparazzi’s wet dream. Need my hair in ruins for them to get a handsome payday.” Abby shakes her head, the budding smile threatening to reveal itself. You can see how it grows, despite the effort she makes to disguise it. 
“I think you do enjoy my company. Paid or not, I bring some light into your life.” You play with the ends of her hair. The blonde feels a tingle pricking at her skin. She ignores it. 
“I can see that smile.” 
Better than anyone, Abby knows the gleam in your eyes is too dangerous to entertain, so she looks forward. It’s what she's paid to do, to keep you safe. Not to entertain some weird crush that will soon pass when you move on to the next actress, artist, or producer. She doesn’t need a reminder of how different your world is, she’s already abundantly clear on where the both of you stand. Worlds apart from each other, even if you’re leaning against her, the greedy hands of the public grab onto you first, mercilessly sucking the life out of anyone who enters your life. 
All it does is isolate you, making your life incredibly lonely. Trapped on the throne you built with your raw talent, but the industry is a double edged sword, as much as it appears to lift you up, it impales any sense of normalcy at a private, peaceful life. You take pride in these little moments you have with her. It’s the only time you get to have a taste of normalcy, even if you did have a bodyguard, which wasn’t entirely normal. Yet, Abby is a gentle reminder of a life she wishes to have. Someone who is kind, and loving; a soul that exists for no selfish gain, greed, or selfishness. 
Sometimes, you take advantage of it. 
Abby knows you crave physical affection. Ever since your messy break up, you’ve been finding any little excuse to justify it. Abby didn’t really mind at all. Even if she tried to deny it in her head, she’d miss it if you stopped. The incessant need you have to be close to her at all times, your essence bleeding on to her, suffocating her with everything she wants, but knows she can’t ever let herself dip into the deepest edges of you. 
Especially, not when you are still attempting to decode the wreckage of your last relationship. 
Abby hates seeing you like this, but she knew there was little she could do to help. All she could do is let you ride the wave of heartbreak, take in the silent tears hitting full cheeks, and hope it would all end soon for you. For now, she would allow immediate proximity.
You’re hurting. You need it.  
The first few weeks, even a couple months after, she expects it. Now it’s month four, and you were still touching her all the time. Lame excuses falling from your lips daily and Abby was sure you didn’t even believe them. She thought about bringing it up to you, establishing healthy boundaries before she crosses a line.
Yet, it feels…nice.
It felt good to be needed. The reason she had taken this job in the first place. It wasn’t what she had imagined for herself – a bodyguard of a famous musician. She jokes about it now, but it's a twisted fate for the two of you. Your eyes shine bright whenever someone asks, and you always take the lead.
Abby has always been more reserved, and your personality is as bright as the sun. She liked Abby the second she laid eyes on her. Not because she was beautiful or the most gorgeous human she’d ever seen.
Which she is.
No.
Her stupid pounding heart, the one she felt beating violently out of her chest, loves you, has no idea who she is.  She had thought possibly the blonde stranger was putting on a front, some did. They liked to conceal their intentions behind greedy eyes and malicious intent.
But Abby turned out to be different.
When a blossoming friendship turned into a job opportunity, it took Abby through a loop. It was the very last thing she was expecting from you. You’d kept her in the dark and when you announced exactly who you were, Abby really didn’t know. Never was she really a fan of social media, didn’t really partake in it unless someone was showing her the latest trend going around. She’s a little old fashioned but she likes it. It worked in her favor when it came to you. Unknowingly, for the first time since your fame struck as quick as lightning, you had the pleasure to befriend someone who had no idea who you were. 
As fresh as breathing your first breath of air, you took pride in the circumstance. Someone enjoying your company for who they are and not just for your social standing, fame, or most importantly the money. Before either of you could really even fully come to it, Abby has become such an influential person in your life, and then you were attempting to entice her with a job opportunity, and she accepted. 
You thought it would take longer and knew from the moment you had asked. But her life was uprooted by you, and she felt guilty about how much it fills her up with glee. 
In the last year, Abby became the only person worthy of your trust, the only one who would keep your confessions confined, not letting the secrets drip like cheap wine down the drain. Rather more as if she was out in the vineyard, carefully hand picking the grapes for the wine as she crafts it herself. Giving it the love, care, and attention it needs to flourish into fine beverage. From one sip alone, knowing she would crave for the taste. 
Getting to know you in ways some would dream of. Often, the mass of the public did, but you’re more selective who you let in your life now. Swiftly, you noticed how easily Abby listened. 
Listening and seeing you for who you are, not some strewed version the media made you out to be.  
She understood why you felt the need to and maybe why you felt comfortable with her. You spent time with her more than anyone. After two years together, she had learned every little detail about you. Where you liked to get your morning coffee, your favorite brunch spot, which bar you like to frequent when you had a night to give, which gym was your favorite, and to not speak with you until you’ve had said coffee. 
It’s these little things Abby remembers, constantly getting her in trouble.
When paparazzi are around, you always accept her hand as she guides you through the swarming crowd. Abby knows you despise it. How inhumane it makes you feel. You feel like an attraction, an object the masses had come to see rather than being viewed as an actual person. In these moments, you cling onto Abby the most. While she’s intimidating to all, there leaves a small exception for you, never has she once been anything to you more than just a sweet, gentle giant she wants close to her at all times. 
Her stature is standing a little over six feet tall. Her arms always looked too good against the tight fabric of her shirt. The one you grip onto as she is navigating through a crowd with you in tow, she’s always focused. The remainder of your team was behind you, while she was always in front of you.
At all times, protecting you.
But it was moments like today, you were grateful for. You blended with the hectic life of the city. You were just two people waiting at a crosswalk, waiting to get to your next destination.
Abby tries not to pay too much attention to how you’re squeezing her bicep, with a strong grip further indication you weren’t letting go anytime soon.
She supposes it’s better than feeling your hand in hers. There were times when Abby deemed it necessary. She would grab it whenever she needed to get you through from point a to point b, quickly. It made you follow her pace instead of lingering behind. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to feel with your head resting against her arm, your body so close to hers.
How was she supposed to act normally?
The rumors were already getting bad. You denied them when asked, and you did gracefully each time.
All Abby could think about if this moment was captured, it would be perceived as intimate. It felt like it was, but she didn’t want the entire world to see. Not when she felt the two of you walking this very nimble line of friends, something professional, and something more. She didn’t need thousands of eyes giving their two senses in a situation she didn’t even fully understand yet. All it took was one person to snap a photo if she gets too close to you. If her touch stayed on you for too long, or if she let the love reach her eyes. The ladder was the most difficult to control. It’s a part of her just as much as the air in her lungs.
This life is new to her. At times, Abby wondered if she’s biting off more than she could chew.
The only reason she’d left was for you. She had a small, quiet life. Abby’s life was very average, a cloud of normalcy hovered above her before the two of you met. A personal trainer full time and she resided in a cabin about half an hour from where she worked. She chopped wood to relieve stress, Her girlfriend liked it at the time, and she did too. She had her two dogs, and a darling kitten. 
She enjoyed the privacy. The isolated countryside her sweet family could reside in. Abby had built this life she was proud of, and it made her happy. For a time, it worked. She was genuinely content with where she was. There wasn’t a need to stress or control where her life was going. It felt like a huge relief. She tended to live inside her own head, not be present in what she has right in front her.
It had been months since she felt like that. It’d felt good and she was proud of herself for not succumbing from within and really coming to terms with what she had built around her. This was the most difficult route for her to take. To allow herself to be open, even if there was a chance of her falling.
Abby really should have felt remorseful for leaving it all behind.
Nora was sweet. The most caring partner she ever had, but there wasn’t much she could compare it to. Besides her, there had only been two, and she didn’t even count Owen. A long misstep until she landed where she needed to be. He did care for her, and he seemed to be more kind-hearted than most men, but the bar was set so low, he should’ve exceeded expectations.
And he did, in some areas.
Others, he fell more than flat but there was little to nothing he could do about it. Abby likes girls and he wasn’t one. Her sexuality shattered their relationship into a million pieces – leaving neither of them any option but to move on.
Nora felt real. This genuine connection she’d never experienced before. Abby knew it one year into their relationship. The pair had built this life together, one where she didn’t feel trapped in, and one Abby could be proud of. She felt acknowledged and loved Nora. There wasn’t a sliver of a doubt in her mind this where she needed to be.
She tells Nora when she needs space, and she isn’t ashamed of it. If she didn’t want to go out, Nora wouldn’t guilt trip her into it. Abby didn’t feel pressured to intertwine her identity with Nora just because they were together. Nora hardly ever gave Abby a reason to be upset. She showed up like partners were supposed to, even when Abby didn’t.
But it was a heavy weight to carry for Nora. Being her first serious queer relationship, Abby was left stunted in areas where Nora had to lend a helping hand. She never made Abby feel bad about it, but the two of them could feel the string keeping them threatening to snap.
Often, it frustrated Abby. To always be the one receiving help and never giving it. She didn't blame her partner, but she was left at a crossroad. 
She never understood Owen more and it really pissed her off.
To no fucking end.
But Nora was far more patient than Abby had ever shown. Maybe it was the testament to love or maybe Nora was just a good person and Abby is shitty. She had more patience than Mother Thersea herself, and it amazed her. Always guiding Abby with a gentle hand, never getting upset with her even when she let her anger shine through.
It makes her feel undeserving of a love she could never earn.
This pure and untainted love had never touched her before, and she’d never fallen this hard. Abby didn’t want to be anywhere but here. She really thought this could be it. Nora could be the one. They could get through those hardships together, right? 
Then you came and overwhelmed her like a tsunami.
She was running late, which was completely out of the ordinary for Abby. Instead of her neat braid, her sun kissed-blonde hair was in a low bun. Underneath her eyes was evidence of her lack of sleep. She hadn’t been getting any as of lately and the bags only seemed to get deeper.
Abby wouldn’t call the fights constant, but it sure did feel like it.
The back and forth, having the same fight consistently. Abby was more than frustrated. The biggest efforts she made were dismissed by Nora, even making her upset at times. She was trying too hard and being annoying, or not doing enough and then it meant she wasn’t present in the relationship.
Abby felt her stuck at a wall, Nora on the other side of it and she couldn’t hear a damn thing.
So, she was running late.
One of the many fights  they’ve had with each other as of late. Nora is tired of dealing with a “baby gay” as she likes to remind her in the heat of their arguments. Abby gets offended, her lips forming into an even deeper pout, her porcelain skin flushed in anger before she gives them both space. 
Contemplating about the future of their relationship in the shower, causing her to be late to work in the process. 
Astronomically behind – her client arrived at the gym she worked at half an hour ago. The most recent argument with Nora plagued her morning. All they seem to do is argue, trapped in what they both need from the relationship, but all the two of them could do is argue, argue, argue.
But neither of them makes a move. They are still as the eerie silence that carries them into questioning. 
It’s when she’s too inside her head, fearing about the future, when she violently bumps into you. Body colliding with yours, Abby’s stone-like build causes you to crash into the pavement, your belongings scatter along with Abby’s. 
“Fuck. Are you alright? Sorry, I’m in such a hurry, I’m sure I wasn’t even paying attention.” You let her pick you from the ground, she does with ease. She looks right through you and you expect the excitement, the excited tears, or to be asked for a picture but it never comes.   
“For a moment I thought I ran into a wall—” You giggle to yourself. “Really, I’m alright.” You spoke softly. You pick up both of your belongings that had slipped from both of your grips, returning it to its owner. 
“Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Abby asks again. 
You think it’s cute how much lace of concern is conveyed in her cerulean eyes, full of light and wonder, so beautiful it stops you in your tracks. 
“No no! I’m fine! Really don’t worry about it.” 
Honestly, you’re still in amazement she has no idea who you are. It makes your fondness of her grow even more. The two of you depart quickly, go about your day, and you think nothing of it until you go to unlock your phone to message your manager and it’s not a picture of the moon you’d taken during the eclipse, it’s the mysteriously hot and kind woman you’d run into before. 
Shit. She has my phone. 
Lucky for you, Abby was coming to the same realization. Ready to bring out the workout she had planned out for her first client, opening her phone to access where she had written everything out only to find this isn’t her phone. Well, fuck. 
Abby hollers at Dina to take over the client for a moment, excusing herself for a moment before retreating into the office to call from her direct line. 
Idiot Anderson. Now you get to make an idiot of yourself, twice. 
Way to go. 
She calls her phone and it rings a few times before the familiar voice chimes through the speaker, the one she heard this morning during her fit of anxiety. 
“Please tell me this is the woman I ran into earlier or else I’m going to be even more embarrassed for answering a stranger's phone.” 
“Well you’re in luck.” 
“Oh thank fuck—” You curse yourself before being so vulgar with someone who you didn’t even know. “Sorry! God, this is all my fault. I must have swapped our phones when I picked them up and didn’t even realize.” 
“It’s okay, really, if I was paying attention where I was walking this morning it never would have happened. Did you wanna meet?” 
“No! Let me. Please, this is all my fault. I should at least be the one who makes the drive.” 
“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble. I don’t mind.” 
“I’m really sure.” 
Abby offers the address of work, thinking once after she does if it’s a good idea, a total stranger knowing where she works but she’s already giving the street name and suite number before she can even make her mind. Abby usually doesn’t get nervous but this situation has sent her into a frenzy, thinking about how dumb she could have been. Nora will get a good laugh out of it she thinks, then she is reminded of the fight the two of them were still in. She wonders if she’s even tried to reach out to her yet or if Nora’s just waiting until Abby’s anger rolls over. 
More favorably, the ladder. 
Until the two of them have the comfort of their lives, the cushion they have between their shared friends and the home they share twenty minutes out of the state, until it comes up again and they’ll be contemplating it all over again. Anxiously, the front desk girl, Bevs, the younger girl who has a crush on her, shyly comes up to her. 
Bevs says what she assumes is your name, confusing Abby in the process. 
“You know her?” 
“How could you not? She’s one of the most famous actresses ever.” Abby is stunned to say the least. Truthfully, she had no idea. Her lack of social media keeps her out of the loop and as much as her friends tease her about, if Abby knew who you were the first time around, she’s sure she wouldn’t have been able to say more than two words. Clearly, you’re a fresh face to her. Already, Abby knows Manny is going to have a field day when Bevs lets this information spill in her sheer excitement. 
Great, she thinks. 
“Oh.” 
“I put her in your office. Some of the clients were already starting to have questioning looks, putting the pieces together. Hey! Maybe they're as clueless as you.” 
“Bevs, go back to the front desk.” With a curt nod and realizing she has pushed too far, with a tail between her legs she retreats back to her post. 
Okay, Anderson, let’s get this over with. 
Abby smells you the minute she steps foot in her office. It’s not the usual pinewood scent the candle in her office radiates. There’s a lingering smell of lavender with just a hit of vanilla. It’s sweet as it engulfs her nostrils, she finds herself sniffling slightly, a silent beg for more of it. You’re standing the minute you’re aware of her presence. Painfully, Abby is aware of her lack of clothing. The tight sport jacket is left unopened, her black sweatpants, accompanied with her sports bra, abs on display as she watches your eyes examine her carefully. 
She’s not sure how to feel about it. 
There is a moment, a short one where your eyes go to her chest, the silver barbells constricting against the small fabric, clear as to what lies beneath. 
Abby does smirk at that. She’s only human. 
You keep staring at her for a minute longer, well it feels like one but Abby deems it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” 
“It’s really not a problem.” The more time goes on, the sweeter you are. “It’s pretty close to where I live.” 
Abby didn’t know it then but you were lying straight through your teeth. The trainer didn’t know you moved around your entire day to make the phone swap or the butterflies swarming your stomach from just how attractive and nice she seemed to be. There was something about her that sent your caution flying to the wind, drifting in the leaves with the rest of your pride. 
“Well I appreciate you coming out this way, even if it’s in your area. I really wouldn’t have minded taking the drive.” Abby pulls out your phone as she hands you yours. It’s simple, transactional, and it should have just been left at that but you had a fondness of putting your foot in your mouth. 
“Are you a trainer here?” 
“Uh, yeah. Been doing it for a few years actually. I spent so much time here already, now I get paid for it. Can’t really complain.” 
“Do you ever do private sessions?” 
“Um-” Abby scratches the back of her awkwardly, not sure if you’re asking her genuinely or if you’re trying to insinuate something else entirely. 
“Oh fuck no! I didn’t mean it like that. I just have a….job opportunity I have to get in shape for and you just look like you know what you’re doing.” Abby thought you might as well point to her physique but if anything she was flattered. It was always nice knowing something she’s been working on for years, her longest standing commitment besides Nora, is appreciated. 
“Sure, we could work something out.” You slightly smile before you exchange phones, this time on purpose, to put in the other’s number. Normally, she didn’t give out her number to clients, but Abby makes an exception for you that day. To this day, she’ll never outwardly admit why she did, not even to herself. 
Two years later, she’s single from her life being turned upside down by you. The casualty being her own relationship, leaving Nora behind was one of the hardest decisions she’s made. Nora never agreed on Abby taking the job. As much as Nora wished for Abby to be more open about their endeavors, as soon as she accepted an offer that could drastically expand the trajectory of their life, Nora couldn’t be asked to compromise another thing. 
That was that. Not even two months into Abby working for you and Nora had called it quits. Abby never talked about it, only you knew she had a girlfriend she used to talk about when you began training with her, and then it was just silent. Back then, you didn’t know her well enough to pry, so you didn’t. 
Even as time passed, the two of you became friends through your employment, spending all your time with her during press season for your upcoming film, Lonely Is The Muse, together. Today was the only day you had off, even if it means Abby technically had the day off, you insisted that both of you leave the hotel and go out for the day. It's the most peace you felt during the European leg of the tour. Only one more day of dealing with your sensory issues, people in your face telling you when and where to go, or the distasteful question regarding your past public breakup instead of the work you were promoting. 
Some interviewers were kind enough to let the drama go but some wanted to get their own viral moment, waiting for you to say the wrong thing. As the industry likes to say, any publicity is good publicity. 
When you’re America's sweetheart actress of the century, such luxuries can’t be afforded. 
As your manager likes to remind you, there’s a reputation you have to protect. 
“Would you like to head back now? Long day tomorrow. Last day of interviews and then your flight leaves first thing in the morning.” 
“Did Stassie put you up to this?” 
“Maybe.” 
“I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.” 
“Mhm, your definition of fun is letting you do whatever you want.” 
“And the problem with that is?” 
All Abby can do is chuckle. 
“What do you want to do then?” Abby asks. She takes note of the sparkle in your eyes, as blinding as the sun but obtaining the serenity of the moon. “I’m all ears sweetheart.” 
It’s how the two of you end up here, a rooftop party, a friend of a friend you said. The party was lowkey, more than the typical ones you would get invited. Maybe because you weren’t in Los Angeles, Miami, or New York — but tucked away on another continent — or perhaps everyone here is just discreet. 
There’s only two fans that come up to you instead of twenty. You’re thankful for some sense of normalcy, one night where you can just feel normal. It still never gets old, people coming up to you as they confess the impact you’ve had on their life. It feels unbelievable at times but you’re grateful for the luxury life you’ve been granted. 
“Here. No liquor tonight.” Abby hands you a glass of red wine, your favorite beverage of choice when you couldn’t have tequila. 
“Yes Ma’am.” You playfully salute her. More than anything, you enjoy the not so subtle chuckle. “Not that I don’t love your company but isn’t Stassie supposed to boss me around?” 
“She felt under the weather. Plus, we both know you don’t listen to her.” 
“And I listen to you?” Your hand plays with her loose blonde hair, smoothing out the white button she’s wearing. 
“Yeah, you do. I wonder why that is.” Abby is playing with fire tonight. Possibly due to the fact that you wouldn’t leave her side, not even for a moment, keeping your body close, practically gluing yourself to her. Yes, she’s charged with keeping you safe and protected but it seems you find enjoyment bringing it to another level entirely. 
“You’re much nicer to look at, that’s all.” It’s light, a quiet whisper, not meant to be heard by anyone — not even for Abby to hear. “Don’t wanna make my handsome bodyguard upset.” 
Faking your pout as you let the words leave your lips, Abby chuckles as you get closer to her, her body standing strong as you push your weight onto her. Stoic as always, while you lean on her, she keeps her eyes peeled. Ensuring your safety at all times. 
“Flattery isn’t going to get you a shot tonight.” 
“I’m just stating the obvious.” 
Abby chuckles, again. She’s delighted you’re enjoying yourself, even if it comes at her expense. There’s a soft jazz song playing outside, couples dancing to the music, you zone out for a moment as you look upon one in particular. 
They are older, possibly in their forties, raven hair beginning to gray, fine lines crinkle when they smile at each other but it’s hard to take note of anything else but the way the couple looks at each other. Your mind wonders how long they’ve been together, if it’s been for years, months, a couple weeks. 
It doesn’t really matter. You just want that. 
The feeling isn’t lost on you, especially when you’re in the arms of the woman you love. For her, she’s being protective, doing her job but you wish it was different. A bubbling desire dripping off your tongue, a need to have her close to you but because she wants. Not because she’s paid to. 
“If I can’t have any tequila shots, god forbid, you have to dance with me.” You down the rest of your wine, placing the empty glass on the bar. “C’mon, you can give Stassie an earful later.” 
Pulling her towards the makeshift dance floor, Abby leads as your head rests against her chest. The steady, soft heartbeat soothes you, a reminder of the safety you feel with her. Caught in the riptide of her kind eyes and heart full of gold. It’s what makes her so unique, so loved, so her. With a surprisingly good tone, Abby sings to the music softly before twirling you around and spinning your body back to her. 
“Is there anything you can’t do?” Your hand rubs lovingly on her lower back as she holds you in her arms. You take pride when it doesn’t feel transactional. When she holds you and it feels as if she was meant to. There’s nothing else comparable to it, her frame melting into yours as your soul finds solace in her warm embrace. 
“There’s plenty of things.” Playfully, Abby smirks. 
“Oh yeah. I’m sure.” 
The sarcasm practically drips out of you as her smirk grows wider. 
“Can I ask you something?” You hesitate for a moment as you find her beautiful blue eyes staring into your soul. It’s only then does everything troubling might dissipate while she holds you — secretly hoping it’s forever. 
“You can ask me anything.” 
You give yourself a moment to collect your thoughts as you move to the delicate beat. “Do you ever wish for a life where you could have had a normal life? I wonder if things could be different.” 
Immediately, Abby answers. 
“Not anymore, no, not for a second.” 
If it was even possible, Abby pulls you closer to her, not urging a word more. It’s how she is, cold and distant to some but they don’t feel the stutter in her breath when you’re near or the soft pad of her thumb rubbing soothingly on the back of your hand. Or the soft words of encouragement when you’re having a difficult day. 
They hear none of it. 
She dances with you for a couple more songs, before you find solace on the couch. You lay beneath the moonlight, your body cuddles into her side as you stare up at the sky. 
It’s lost on you how you’ve ended  with her, someone as kind and untainted as her, wanting to spend her free time with you, but you’re grateful for it. Whatever god you have to thank, you’ll get on your knees to praise their alter for bringing Abby into your life. She’s the best thing to ever happen to you and she doesn’t even know it. Albeit, she hardly knows the extent of how wonderful she is. 
“Why here?” 
“It’s a good night, nice weather. Why not?” 
A question with a question. It’s the most straightforward answer you’ll ever give her. Innuendos for the sweet girl to piece together, but with the soft circles being drawn her stomach with the pad of your finger leaves little to nothing to decode. 
“It’s nice, yeah.” 
Abby always has so little to say but her mind swarms with a thousand reasons why this is a bad idea and a million of why this is where the constellations in the jaded sky have led to you. Straight into the pits of innocence, a heart that’s been hurt more times than she can count but still as golden and whole as one could be. 
“What do you think of Italy?” 
“It’s nice.” 
“Nice? That’s all I get?” 
Abby smirks but her body stills when you play with the waistband of her trousers before gliding back to the security of her abdomen, carving the liner of her defined abs. The ones she tries so hard to cover up, but you saw on the very first day you met her. 
“Do you want more?” You ask, an eyebrow raising in suggestion. Abby knows it’s a double edged sword, one she doesn’t want to be injured with. 
“You’re playing a very dangerous game.” Cautiously, Abby warns. “I’m not sure that last drink was a great idea.” 
You rest your head on her sternum, sapphire eyes looking down at you as her hand finds home on your waist, the blunt of your nails scratching softly at her stomach. 
“They always seem like a great idea at the time, don’t they?” With a gentle hand, you caress her scarred cheek, the pad of your thumb gently tenderly kissing the freckled skin. Outlining the softness of her jaw with your left, while your right one refuses to leave her stomach. 
“I don’t see how anyone would ever want to leave you.” Abby hums, not giving you much to go off of, tight lipped as she’s always been. The Nora situation has always been on your mind. One day, Abby’s speaking of her like she’s the love of her life and the next? Abby stiffens so tight when you bring up her name you promise yourself to never speak of it again. Until now, almost two years later, you’re more curious than you have ever been. The fatal ending, not belonging to you, but still you paw for the answers with your greedy palms. 
“You can just ask me if you want to know. I can see the look in your eyes.” 
“What look? I don’t have a—” 
Abby tilts your chin with your palm, leaning into her touch as you often do. 
“Yes, you do.” 
“How do you know this look?” 
“Hm.” Her thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “You’re just trying to get me in trouble now.” 
Your tone shifts, your eyes become transcendent, more crystal clear than they’d been all night. 
“What happened between you and Nora?” You ask, treading lightly on the ground you’re skating upon, in fear the ground beneath you might just crack if you apply too much pressure. 
“Why is it so important to you?” 
“It’s not that it’s—” You face plant into her chest, giving yourself a moment to breathe. Fuck, even her chest smells good. 
“You don’t ask about anything unless it’s of value to anyone. You don’t waste time, you’re very adamant about it. Painfully so.” Blonde eyebrows relax as she closes her eyes for a moment, but her touch on you soothes you. It’s gentle; a somber comfort bleeding into blissful joy. 
“But I’ve spent a lot of time with you.” 
“Yes, you’ve spent a lot of your time with me.
Abby opens her eyes to see you, your head tilted to the right, as you look upon each carve of her angelic face, the one that could only be carved by the gods above, resembling an angel on earth. As pure as the snow with the biggest heart of gold you ever have had the pleasure of knowing. 
“What?” 
“I didn’t say a thing.” You smile slyly. 
“We didn’t break up because of you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Abby sighs, “You’re not some homewrecker. My home with Nora was already wrecked before we met.” 
“Are you just saying it to make me feel better?” 
“No, I’m not.” You play with the ends of her golden hair, it hurts to be this close to what you want but knowing it’s so clearly out of your reach, league even, all of it will end the same. “Nora wasn’t fond of her being my first relationship with a woman. It caused a ripple effect, me feeling like I wasn’t good enough and her feeling like she has to carry me in the relationship, emotionally anyway.” 
“Is that why you broke up?” 
“No.” 
“It was because of me.” You state, as a matter of fact, knowing there is no other truth to be known. With tears welling up in your eyes, an ache  in your heart, one that made you ache all over. The dread of the guilt weighing heavily on your heart, time and distance still isn’t enough for you to run from it. 
“It was a job that was a great opportunity. Alright? It wasn’t you, even if I hadn’t, we both wanted different things. I didn’t even realize it until after but I wasn’t happy. I promise, it has nothing to do with you.” 
What Abby didn’t know, you needed to hear her say those words. In the back of your head, a monstrous demon unleashes in your mind, telling you crashed her relationship. You were the problem and her inevitable doom, but she’s assuring you it wasn’t the case. 
“We hardly knew each other back then.” 
As pathetic as it sounds, Abby can’t imagine her life without you. 
“Yeah hardly.” 
There’s that look again, pouring into Abby’s soul as it eats her up whole, the gleam in your eyes begging for more. It’ll complicate things if Abby gets involved, she knows this, but it already seems like she is despite her best efforts not to be. 
“Did I do good? You always say you miss stargazing with your brother back home. I know it’s not as quiet as the cabin you have, but I thought it would be okay for now.” 
“The view isn’t bad, not one bit.” She admits as she lets you rub her abdomen, the goosebumps crawling upon her skin the more Abby lets you touch her as if she’s yours to hold. “Lev would like it. I’m convinced the kid likes you more than me now.” 
“As he should. I’m pretty damn amazing.” 
“He asks too many questions though.” 
“About what?” 
“I dunno…..things.” Abby retreats back into her shell, the layer of protection she uses to protect herself from getting hurt. Most of all, out of everyone the gods could torture her to be confused about, of course it has to be you. Everyone in your life is always begging for pieces of your time, pieces of your affection and bits of your time to suck you dry. Abby has always wondered how you juggle it all. It feels cruel to even think you would put her in the mix. 
Painfully, there’s nights like tonight, where she sees the desire swarming in your eyes — every part of her pleads to give in to the temptation. Give into something she’s never even let herself think about until the last few months. As thick as drywall, there was a barrier keeping her heart from you, one she kept to protect you and herself even. 
The absolute last thing she wanted was to wreck everything this has to offer. If she makes the wrong move, all of it can come crashing down on you…it’s the last thing she wants. Make you a martyr in her story, one she thinks and dreams of often but knows you’re too big for her to exist in your life. The circles you run in don’t even exist in the same planet, the same fucking universe if Abby’s being honest. 
“What things?” You pout, your hand traveling south, caressing her thigh with a familiarity Abby wishes you didn’t have. She wishes for a lot but they never come true, that’s all you can be, a dying wish Abby curses upon a fading star.  
“It’s just stupid shit, not worth mentioning.” 
“Abby…” 
“Yeah?” 
“I—” You take a deep breath, your voice already shaky and you haven’t even told her yet. “I don’t think you even know how much you mean to me.” Abby isn’t sure where you’re going with this, terrifying her instantly. 
Have you finally had your fill of her? Were you gonna fire her? Now? 
“Lev doesn’t just talk to you about us.” 
“Us?” Nervously, Abby stomach clenches, unprepared for where this conversation is heading. 
“Why are you so scared?” 
Abby visibly and loudly gulps, almost making you giggle slightly. 
“I-I’m not.” 
The stonewall she attempts to hide behind but you won’t let her, not tonight. Slumping in the shadows, waiting for you to find someone else to love as she watches your happiness from a far, that’s what she allows herself. Nothing more and nothing less. 
“Abs, look at me.” She meets your eyes, away from the constellations in the sky, afraid if she looks for a moment too long she’ll be stuck here forever. “Talk to me, m’right here, not going anywhere unless you want me to.” 
Instantly, Abby grips your hips, keeping you in your place. 
“No, that’s not—” 
“What?” 
“I’m not what you want. I’m surely not what anyone needs. Hell, I’ve only been with one woman which is deemed to be for not being enough, right? I’m the girl who came out too late, who doesn’t have enough experience but because I’m built like some fucking adonis I need to know whatever the fuck I’m doing but I don’t. I never know what I’m doing. The only thing I know how to do is protect you, that’s all I’m good for and I’m not gonna screw that up just because I—” 
“Because what?” Your pelvis is on top of hers, your face coming closer to Abby’s, watching as you are irrevocably close to her, closer than you’ve ever been, wet lips ghosting over her pouty pink lips. Abby doesn’t even know when you moved, how you got so close, too lost in her own head to register your movements. 
“It doesn’t matter.” Abby puffs out. 
“It matters to me.” You sink into her, further, if it's even possible. “No one matters more than you, alright?” 
“But there’s people.” Abby looks for an excuse to get up, she comes up enough so she’s sitting up against the armrest of the patio couch, holding your lower back as she does so, leaving you straddling her hips. 
“I don’t care. All that matters is you.” You push a piece of blonde hair away, seeing her beautiful cheeks more clearly, her shining blue eyes finding its unique path to your heart, the one especially made for her. “Here just let me talk, alright? You don’t have to say anything. Just listen.” 
Abby is nearly crying, practically purring as you run your fingers through her cascading blonde hair. It’s too much but not enough. Although she is sure of one thing, the one thing she wants more than anything. 
“I’ve always been one for pretty girls. I had a reputation around Hollywood, always chasing one after the next, never reaching my fill or as the tabloids like to say.” You chuckled half-heartedly; the wound cutting deeper than you would have liked. “My publicist having to pay paparazzi an obscene amount of money to get these photos from ever hitting online, month after month, it was pathetic really. Just trying to fill a hole, one I didn’t even know how to fill.” 
“I didn’t know that.” 
“It’s not something I’m proud of and I never wanted you to see me differently but I’m not ashamed anymore though. I’m not that person anymore. I haven’t been since I met you.” Abby falls silent, her cheeks turning crimson before she can try to hide it “You not knowing how I was, it's just the humbling I needed. Not to mention you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen— you still are— but you had a girlfriend so I kept my feelings silent. Something just felt different with you and then you were single and I was afraid of you.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I didn’t want to ruin you so I made a promise to myself. I would never start anything with you, not unless I was in love with you.” 
“You love me?” 
“It’s impossible not to.” You sigh into her, forehead pressed against hers, her strong hold not letting go. “You don’t have to say anything or do anything. I don’t expect anything in return. I just can’t live in a world where you think because you’re not experienced as some, you think you’re less than people who are.” 
“It’s true, I’m not there with everyone else and it shows.” 
“Abby, you’re not getting it.” 
“Well, no shit. I’m not good enough for any of this, you especially.” 
“It’s not…” You bite your lip as you reach for her hands on your waist, intertwining them with your own. “Abs, it would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” Your lips ghost over her lips again, but this time Abby inches closer, her breath warm as it hits your mouth. 
“What?” 
“If I was a patient person and waited for you.” 
More than before, Abby’s breath is heavy as the rise and fall of her chest is rapid, trying to calm herself down but it’s impossible when you’re this close. It’s a lot for her, maybe she’s overly sensitive, but your touch is practically lighting her on fire. Abby wonders if it will ever be able to be put out or if your magnetic touch will leave her scorned. 
Puppy eyes inwardly pleading for an ounce of your touch, so sweet as she supports your weight with her strong thighs, anchoring you to her — never quite letting go. A single glance detrimental to the layer of protection she built around herself. 
“There’s no more waiting, m’right here.” Abby closes the gap indefinitely, lips connecting with yours as they move in perfect harmony, as if this is what she was made for. Involuntarily, she whimpers in your mouth as you gently tug at her bottom nibble at her bottom lip, your tongue sliding in as it dominates her own. It happens too quickly — the way her very being melts into you. 
Like honey to a bee, there’s nothing that’s ever been so sweet. 
This is all you need. 
“Abby?” 
“Yeah, angel?” 
“Let’s get out of here.”
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connorsui · 1 month ago
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For without you... there's nothing
• All LADS Men x reader
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He was unlike any other man, for his love was a force that defied reason, propriety, and the fragile order of the world. In his heart, there was no room for moderation or restraint where you were concerned. It was not a love that flourished in the quiet gardens of conventional affection, but one that burned with the intensity of a consuming fire, a love that would unmake the world if it dared to threaten you.
There was a certain desperation in the way his gaze lingered on you, as though the mere sight of you was both his salvation and his undoing. He could not look away, for to do so felt like a betrayal of the devotion he carried so earnestly. His every thought, his every breath, centered upon you, and when he beheld you, tears glistening like dew upon your cheeks, your whispered confession of love trembling in the air between you, it was as though the universe itself paused to bear witness to his devotion.
To lose you, even in the faintest imagining, was a prospect so unbearable that it eclipsed all rational thought. For what, he mused, was the value of the world, of all its fleeting splendors, if you were not in it? Such musings were not madness, nor folly, but the most profound truth he had ever known. You were his compass, his sanctuary, his divine purpose.
Were the heavens to collapse or the earth to crumble beneath his feet, it would not matter, so long as you were at his side. Indeed, the destruction of all creation would seem a trifle if it meant securing your safety. In you, he found the very essence of existence, a sanctity that rendered the rest of life’s concerns trivial by comparison.
And so, when his lips met yours, it was not merely a kiss...it was a vow. It was the silent pledge of a man who had forsaken all else for the one thing that truly mattered. His hands, trembling with the weight of his emotions, cradled your face with a tenderness that belied the ferocity of his feelings. His heart swelled with the knowledge that you were his, even as the world beyond burned in inconsequence.
He was well aware that his love was neither balanced nor tempered by reason. It was a love that bordered on the unrighteous, that flouted the dictates of morality and sense. But how could he repent of it when it was as much a part of him as the air he breathed? If to love you so utterly was to fail, then he would fail gladly, for to love you less would be to deny the very essence of his being.
For you, he would forsake the sun, the stars, and the very heavens. And as his forehead pressed to yours, his voice a reverent murmur, he made his promise anew: you were his world, his life, his everything, and he would let all else burn before he let you go.
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crisiscutie · 1 year ago
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dollhouse
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One of my yandere musings inspired me to write this! I always found the idea of a yandere Sephiroth stealing the darling of Fluffy Sephiroth to be really interesting, so why not do it now? Fair warning though, these are pretty gloomy.
Pairing: AC Sephiroth/Domestic Darling.
Content Warning: NSFW. Noncon. Emotional Abuse. Milk/Nursing Kink. Corruption Kink. Pregnant Darling.
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Your weak moans broke the defeaning silence as he languidly fucked your cunt, his hand on your left thigh and the other on your right hip.
Damn your body working against you. Your cunt had a mind of its own; a trembling, gushing, wet mess that relentlessly pleaded for more of him.
But this wicked mockery of the man you loved disgusted your hurt mind.
You wished you were strong enough to support Sephiroth in the fight against his dark mirror...
His slit blue eyes and his twisted smile bore into you and your swollen, pregnant belly. It was clear that in his wicked fantasy mind, he thought this moment between you two was intimate, as if it was natural. It couldn't have been further from the truth, your truth.
"You've never looked so lovely before, my darling," he whispered, his velvety, "sweet" voice tainted with malice. He often tried to mimic your sweet husband to break you, but you always saw right through him. You won't give in. You don't want to.
He increased the power of his thrusts, coaxing a louder moan from your sweet lips, but still keeping that tortuously slow pace.
Oh, how you wanted this to end. How you wanted your Sephiroth back and live the happy life you two had before.
As his hand moved from your hip to your pregnant belly, you clenched your teeth, your protective maternal instincts triggering. No. No. Not your baby. Not what you had left of him.
But as usual, you couldn't move very much. It's like something is keeping your arms down, pinned to the bed. As much as you tried to move against this force, you only arched your back.
Your inner walls tightened around his cock as he delivered a particularly brutal thrust when you failed to respond to him.
"Our child will grow up to be strong. I will be the one to guide her - forever!" He growled.
His vast, dark wing sprouted from his back, wrapping you in its embrace as he continued to stroke your belly.
"You don't need to worry, darling. He's intertwined with me... a part of my very essence," For a brief second, his eyes widened as he said those last words.
He leaned down towards your pregnant belly, his lips hovering close but not quite kissing it.
You didn't react to what he said about your baby. Your focus was on his unsettling words. It's impossible, he couldn't be him. Your Sephiroth is still out there somewhere!
The initially gentle hand on your pregnant belly became possessive and rough as it moved up one of your milk-filled tits.
Your body twitched, a mixture of pain and pleasure unraveling within as he coaxed milk from your engorged nipple, his dark grin slightly widening at your reaction.
"Don't worry, darling. I'll make sure every drop of this precious milk is put to good use."
He squeezed your abused tit harder, reveled in more milk seeping over his hands and your belly. The traces of JENOVA'S imprint within your milk sent him into a primal frenzy.
His luscious lips hungrily latched onto your nipple, his tongue swirled around the flesh as he was determined to make true on his last words.
The thick and creamy liquid danced on his tastebuds, making his chest rumble with a twisted delight.
His cock constantly kissed your cervix, while only ever so slightly increasing his agonizing tempo. Even in his primal frenzy, he's still such a calculating bastard.
He released your nipple with a "pop" when he finally cummed inside you.
You screamed, feeling every drop of his corrupted seed mixing with your cunt juices. It's overwriting your desires and twisting your thoughts to fixate on him.
And it's disgustingly lukewarm, moving within you and coating every part of your insides like it's another entity. Why do you want more of it?!
He had a rare, radiant smile on his face, just like your lost husband. He watched tears streaming down your cheeks, your resistance finally started to melt.
Your husband was weak, he never deserved you... The man with you now could always protect you and your daughter. He could give you everything you ever wanted... Right?
Sephiroth licked the tears from your left cheek, before nuzzling into it and whispering softly in your ear.
"With me, all of my dolls will know true joy."
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Next I do Yandere 7R Sephiroth musings? 👀
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vanitasmorgue · 2 days ago
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Have you ever thought about what the conversation between these two would be like?
.....................
Lestat: Nadja, my chérie, do you think this shade captures the essence of my immortal soul? It’s deep, isn’t it? Like the night that embraces me eternally.
Nadja: Oh, Lestat, please stop whining like a French poet with a bad haircut. That black is basic. My red says, ‘I’m a vampire goddess who could rip your heart out and then dance on your corpse.’
Lestat: Basic, you say. My dear, I invented basic. This black is a canvas for my melancholy, an echo of the centuries I’ve endured with grace. Your red is… how do I put it? A tavern scream.
Nadja: A tavern scream? Ha! This red is passion, it’s fire, it’s the color of the blood I shed when I’m bored. You and your black, always acting like you’re the only vampire with feelings. Put on some glitter, live a little!
Lestat: Glitter? For me? Maybe you're right. A touch of light for the king of shadows. But tell me, Nadja, how do you stand such a… noisy existence? All that chaos with your companions.
Nadja: Chaos is my muse, Lestat. My idiots keep me young. You, with your castles and your pianos, seem trapped in an eternal opera drama. Relax, maybe I'll invite you to one of our midnight orgies.
Lestat: Tempting, but my orgies are more… refined. However, this glitter isn't bad. Maybe I'll use it to seduce some mortal tonight.
Nadja: If you say so, Monsieur Drama. Just don't get your cape covered in nail polish, ok?
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burningembers91 · 1 month ago
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The Artist's Muse - Park Gyeong-Seok x Fem!Reader (NSFW)
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Follow up piece to:
Loving You From Afar The Shape of You Family Unit
Synopsis: Your body is Park Gyeong-Seok's greatest muse
The early afternoon sun streamed through the curtains, casting soft shadows on the walls on the living room. Park Gyeong-Seok was deep in concentration, his pencil sketching delicate lines and contours along the page. Music played softly in the background, and you sat before him, wearing nothing but one of his checkered shirts. Your head rested against the window, a small smile playing your lips as you watched him work. You looked so beautiful sitting there for him, his eternal muse. The front of your shirt was unbuttoned, your breasts soft and supple against the dark green fabric. The curves of your stomach, hips and waist were silhouetted against the soft glow of the sun, your eyes fixed on a point off in the distance. He always felt that no matter how many times he drew you, he could never quite capture your beauty. You were ethereal, your very essence so pure that it could never be captured fully.
You’d spent the afternoon between your sheets, making love as Gyeong-Seok whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It was a rare day you had to yourselves, and you intended to make the most of it. He thought about the way your body felt against his as he drew you, the way your soft moans made his heart sing. He could feel his body responding to the memories, could feel his cock stiffen in his jeans. He was nearly done with the drawing, and then he could make love to you again.
You’d been in your new home for three months now, the apartment twice the size of the one he’d lived in before. it was light and airy, the perfect spot to create artwork. You were so happy together, and Na-Yeon was beginning to respond positively to her new treatment. Life felt like a dream at the moment, one Gyeong-Seok hoped he never awoke from. “Are you nearly done?” you asked quietly, “my neck is killing me.” He smiled at you, so lost in his thoughts that he’d ceased drawing entirely. He’d finished the main portion, the rest he could finish off later. He knew your body like the back of his hand now, had committed every curve and line to memory. Pulling you down onto his lap, his lips traced your collar bone, his tongue drawing a line along the soft contours of your neck. “Again?” you smiled, leaning into his touch. “So needy.”
Gyeong-Seok could have you a thousand times and it would never be enough. His hands trailed up your waist, his fingers gently circling the delicate skin of your breasts. You leaned your head back, the sweetest moan falling from your lips as he took your nipple between his teeth. He laid you down on the soft living room carpet, his lips kissing down your body before coming to rest in between your thighs. You tasted heavenly, his tongue working the sensitive nub of your clit as your hands gripped his hair. He would never tire of watching you come undone for him, would never get sick of hearing the moans that fell from your lips as you gave yourself to him. “I need you,” you begged, desperate to feel him inside of you. Gyeong-Seok could never deny you anything, always so eager to please.
As he pushed himself inside of you, your slick, wet walls swallowing him, he knew what heaven was. it was the way you moaned; the way your hands gripped his biceps as he thrust into you. It was the way you whispered his name, the feeling of pure ecstasy as you came around his cock.
Gyeong-Seok was so close, the deep ache within him almost unbearable as he watched you fall apart beneath him. Your nails dug into the soft skin of his shoulder blades, eliciting a deep groan as he basked in the sharp, pleasurable pain. He wanted to claim you, to make every inch of your body his. You always took him so well, your body arching into his as he spilled his seed inside of you. He buried his head in your hair as he felt himself lose control, clinging to your frame as you took every last drop of him.
No matter how many times he had you, it would never be enough. Your skin was flushed, your eyes bright as you lay entwined on the floor. You didn’t have long left alone, the babysitter due back any time soon. He placed a tender kiss on your lips, smiling as he felt you tremble underneath him. He tidied away his art supplies, tucking the drawing of you inside the cupboard. He heard the shower turn on, wondered whether he had time to join your before he had to switch back to dad-mode. Your body was like the sweetest drug, and Gyeong-Seok would never have his fill. He looked at his watch; he had ten minutes spare.
Allowing his feet to carry him to the bathroom, he wondered how many more times he could get you to moan his name.
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