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accidentcache · 5 months ago

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everything i didn't say

feat: college au, frat boy touya x fem!reader (she pronoun is used)

warnings: drinking (3rd year of uni so everyone is of age), language, heavy suggestive bits (slight nsfw), angst if you squint (miscommuncation and emotional constipation yay)

cache notes: 6k read so buckle in motherfuckers. happy birthday to the love of my life and my favorite man in the whole word <3

m.list

touya was an idiot for falling in love with you.

you have him wrapped around your finger and you aren’t even aware of it. he didn’t know when these feelings developed, but months ago he realized that the thought of you getting intimate with someone other than him made him want to put a hole in the wall. it was a rough revelation on his conscious, and an even heavier one on his heart.

because truthfully? the two of you were friends. close friends. best friends.

he met you during the first few days of freshman orientation– you weren’t talking to anyone nor were you making an effort to, and touya was bored and didn’t find anyone interesting enough to sit down with. all it took was one clever and witty line to win you over (and an offer to sneak out and smoke a joint when the upperclassmen weren’t looking) and the rest was history.

the two of you did everything together. you were inseparable. any party that the two of you attended you were attached to his hip and vice versa. he was a part of you as you were of him.

as the years went on, touya and yourself had gotten more… affectionate with one another. you were never afraid to flirt openly with him– he returned it, actually– and touya was not scared to sling an arm around your shoulders or even your waist if he was intoxicated enough.

it was just how the two of you were.

even currently, you’re teasing him as he follows you to your dorm room. he’s got his dab pen perched between his pointer finger and thumb, taking rips occasionally as he takes lazy strides behind you. the straps of his bag are loosened all the way, so it hangs low on his back and makes him slouch when wears it.

“why are you even following me right now?” your head tilts back to look at him. your tone is clearly playful, and if that wasn’t enough; the smirk stretching on your lips was another clear sign. “your dorm is on the other side of campus.”

touya grunts. there’s a dull itch in the back of his head as he tries not to think about how attractive that grin of yours is. “‘m bored and your company isn’t as bad as i make it seem.” his head turns to the side and his tone lowers to a grumble. “plus i like the view.”

you continue forward, a laugh bubbling from your chest. “ouh,” your voice drawls, dripping with ridicule. “the touya todoroki likes my company? i’m so honored.”

he scoffs in response, bringing the pen to his lips and takes a good four second rip. he holds in the vapors for a couple more seconds, speaking through the exhale as smoke curls around his cheeks. “i take it back,” his lip curls with mock irritation. “you’re annoying and infuriating and insufferable and–��

he cuts himself off. comes to a complete stop behind you, and it’s involuntary what comes out of his mouth next.

“gorgeous too.”

your eyes roll just the slightest bit. “flirt,” you call over your shoulder– but he decides not to comment on it.

by now the two of you are standing in front of the steps to your dorm building– touya doesn’t remember the majority of the walk there. he was more focused on how the color of your hair matches so well with the palette of the scene outside– it’s fall weather, so the trees look stunning around campus– and how you’d always step on the crunchiest of leaves. touya doesn’t know how you do it every time. maybe you have some special, niche and useless talent.

but he finds it endearing and it makes his chest twist.

he watches you take the first step towards the building, his heart stuttering when you choose to tilt towards him. when you’re this close, touya can see the different colored specks in your eyes, the pale dusting of freckles that have faded along your nose. when you’re this close, touya hopes you can’t hear how his breath hitches at the proximity or the roar of his heartbeat in his throat.

“i’ve got a paper to write,” you murmur, the teasing smirk you were wearing now fading to a fond grin. your eyes roam the length of him, taking in the fact that even though it’s somewhat chilly out; he’s in the thinnest hoodie from his wardrobe and yours is thick enough to rival the michelin man.

touya hates how his heart falls at your words. his eyes fall downwards, his tone almost brooding in a way. “already ditching me for some damn paper?” his words are light and teasing, his expression is not. “you’re breaking my heart.”

“you,” touya’s brain spins as you lean in even closer when you speak, your tone dropping an octave. your finger reaches out and hooks underneath his chin and touya’s brain lags when you pull him ever so slightly closer. “are too much of a distraction.”

fuck. fuck. fuck.

touya freezes. his eyes are laser focused on yours, and he’s pretty sure his lungs have checked out from his body entirely.

this teasing is normal between the two of you. the both of you are always this affectionate. he curses the day his brain subtly switched from finding this kind of banter amusing to making him want to kiss the everloving shit out of you.

somehow, he forces himself to speak. his voice is shaky, quieter than normal. “am i, now?”

he hates that he’s close enough to see how your canine digs into the plump flesh of your lower lip. the color of the skin changes due to the light pressure you put on it. he barely registers how your thumb drags along his lower lip before your hand retracts from his chin.

“yeah, you are.”

touya knows he’s fucked– completely and utterly screwed when you use that tone. you don’t even know that you have him wrapped tight, and at this point he’s too embarrassed to confess it either.

“you’re teasing me and you know it,” touya murmurs, his voice bordering the line from flustered and frustrated.

your head tilts. of course you are. it’s your favorite game to play with him, to see who backs down first. usually it’s yourself– you’re always a sucker for touya’s intimidating and soft dominating aura– so it’s a small, but not unwelcome surprise that he’s waving the flag right now. the corner of your mouth curls and you lean in once again, your finger pushes into the plane of his chest where you know his favorite dogtags rest.

“i’ll text you after i’m done, yeah?” the smirk grows wider when you feel touya’s lithe fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you closer. “we could grab dinner at the dining hall… or hit up that frat party…”

you’re evil, touya’s thinking to himself. so fucking evil. your lips have just barely grazed his with that offer, and despite how soft and gentle your voice sounded; a shudder ran down his spine. he always imagines this tone of yours well and late into the night, whispered into his ear as the two of you settle into his mattress–

touya wants to kiss you so bad.

it’d be so easy too. all he has to do is lean forward ever so slightly and his lips would be flush against yours and the two of you wouldn’t be playing this stupid cat and mouse game anymore. it would cross a line, yes; he’s aware of that, but he’s tired. he wants to give in so fucking badly.

but all he can do is stutter in response. “yeah, that sounds good.”

your finger travels up the firm expanse of his chest before curling under his chin again. at this point, you’re taunting him to cross the line. your lips are so close to his that they are dancing that dangerous edge of making contact with his own.

“i’ll text you,” you murmur, your eyes bounce between his lips to his sharp sapphire gaze.

his hand tightens ever so slightly around your wrist, head tilting as his eyes roam your features intently. “fucking cock tease,” touya mutters before he can even think about the words coming out of his mouth.

that makes a laugh bubble straight from your chest. it stings in ways that touya doesn’t like, his expression melting to a small scowl. you act like this is a harmless game– it is, to you– and that only causes touya’s chest to squeeze tighter. you would not be treating him like some toy if you knew there was something deeper than what touya let on. “lewd,” you reply, your tone light. “cock tease, really?”

touya let out the smallest breath he would allow himself to take and lifts his other hand to grasp your chin. his touch is gentle, but firm– it keeps you locked in place. the pads of his fingers are warm, calloused; you wonder if he’s picked up the guitar again in the times that you don’t spend with him. “stop teasing me,” he practically hisses, “just kiss me already.”

would touya believe you if you told him you’ve been wanting to since second semester of freshman year? probably not. he prides himself in being observant, but he’s oblivious to certain signs when it comes from you.

“you’re so demanding,” you giggle. to him, the noise is soft, low, alluring– teasing– it makes him grit his teeth. but to you, it’s a way to satiate the bundle of nerves that had been festering in your gut the moment you leaned in.

touya is so close to tasting you. he can feel your lips part against his, ghosting over his own in some sick way of further testing his patience. he can feel the warmth of your breath mixing with his, causing his eyelids to flit shut.

and then his phone rings.

and you pull away.

he’s so stunned from the whiplash that all he can do is stand and watch you bound up the steps toward your dorm building, waving your fingers in that stupid little flirty wave you do. touya finds new swears as his phone continues to ring in his back pocket, but his eyes do not leave your form until you’re passing through the front door. you call out a final time that you’ll text him, and all he can do is produce a weak wave in response.

touya’s never really put much effort into how he’s dressed before. he knows he’s somewhat decent looking– i mean, you do sound genuine enough when you flirt with him, that has to count for something, right? but he decided normal attire isn’t going to cut it tonight. he wants to impress you. make you come crawling to him and hang onto him like always do when you drink.

he changed his outfit four times before ringing the dumb blonde he calls his friend– keigo always had better style than him surprisingly– which led to the discussion on why touya was so hellbent on looking good for the night. “you’re gonna ditch us for your little secret girlfriend, aren’t you, ‘roki?”

touya’s lip curls at the nickname but doesn’t correct him on it. keigo uses it regardless of the hundreds of times touya has told him he hated it. “we aren’t dating, you know that,” he scoffs. there’s a twinge inside of him that soars at the idea of you being his girlfriend.

“right, right,” keigo muses on the other side of the phone. “you aren’t official,” and at touya’s scoff in response; keigo argues back, “what? you go see her every day, you bring her little gifts, take her out to lunch… i’d say that’s some boyfriend level behavior right there, touya.”

touya is thankful that he cut the videochat a while back ago. a flush creeps up his neck and he curses internally. “you’re the worst,” he mutters, chewing at the inside of his cheek.

keigo laughs. “i’m right, aren’t i? you definitely like her.”

touya wanted to snap back and say he didn’t, but it’s not that he wanted to deny it. he’d been pining over you for almost two and a half years now, is it really honest to boil all of that down to a simple… like? touya has to be honest with himself. he loves you.

the revelation makes him want to vomit and throw his fist into the wall.

keigo continues to ramble on. “why don’t you just make it official at this point?”

he scoffs in response to that. “it’s complicated.”

“what, is this highschool?” keigo laughs. he sounds mocking and condescending, but touya knows he’s right. “how is it complicated? you’ve known her for years. she likes you too, idiot. pretty sure she’s just waiting for you to ask her out at this point.”

it feels like keigo is giving him false hope. he wants to believe that your flirting is a genuine show, that you’re taunting him into taking the first step into new territory. he wants to believe that if he does take that first step that you’ll be by his side the further he dives in. he wants to believe it. he craves it.

“she is coming tonight, isn’t she?” keigo presses. there’s shuffling noises from his side of the phone, it sounds like he’s also in the process of getting ready as well.

you had texted him a bit ago, letting him know when you finished your paper– as promised – and he had offered an invitation to the party tonight. it was an open event, he didn’t need to invite you— but it felt so much more intimate and personal when he asked you to come himself. he practically leapt out of bed when he got your confirmation, as embarrassing as it is to admit that to himself.

“yeah,” touya assures quietly, “she is.”

keigo responds with a click of his tongue, a low chuckle echoing out through touya’s receiver. “that explains it,” he muses, “explains it a lot.”

touya fiddles with the chain at his hip– a pick from keigo that he went along with just for the hell of it. he had nagged at the blonde for helping him choose an outfit that looked a bit darker than his normal attire (touya wasn’t trying to go for the emo look) but he does look good. with his hair hanging past his ears and the dogtags around his neck, he still has the touches that make it distinctly him– but he clearly looks like he put in effort.

“explains what?” touya’s lips purse.

“you actually called me for advice,” keigo laughs in response. “you are clearly trying to score tonight.”

touya doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed or not that keigo calls him out on it.

from the looks of it, you like touya’s choice in clothing. you haven’t said a word to him, but he can feel the lingering stares– he knows you can feel his eyes on you as well. the two of you haven’t been subtle about it at all. it’s getting to the point that keigo rolls his eyes, nudging touya’s leg with his foot with a scoff. “quit eye-fucking her already.”

touya scowls at that comment and swats at the blonde’s chest. he’s nicely faded at the moment, a couple drinks deep and he’s been taking healthy hits of the dab pen he brought with him– for confidence or comfort, he’s not sure what for quite yet. his body feels warm and heavy and light all at the same time.

in the back of his mind, touya is itching to dance with you.

he keeps stealing glances. you look so carefree, so happy and relaxed– though part of it is most likely due to the alcohol. your cheeks have a subtle flush to them, a rosy pink that’s visible to him even under the dim house lights. the more you move around, the more sweat clings to your skin and to the fabric of your clothes; it makes the loose strands of your hair stick to your forehead and causes blood to run south in touya’s body.

he takes several gulps of his beer to calm down. it does not help at all.

he manages to catch you later in the night. he’s on his way back from the kitchen, a fresh cup of whatever mixture keigo and rumi convinced him to drink– it’s fruity and sweet, its a drink you would like more than him– when he catches you leaning against the wall that overlooks the rest of the larger room where a crowd has formed in front of the mock dj stand.

touya’s chest squeezes at the sight of you. even from behind, you look stunning– your ass looks amazing in those jeans you’re wearing, but he tries to ignore that– and he struggles to keep his eyes off of you. maybe it’s the intoxication, maybe it’s both making the emotions and feelings rush to the surface so suddenly.

he slides up next to you, a comfortable but intimate distance between your shoulder and the plane of his chest. touya’s a couple inches taller, tall enough that he can peer over and see just how much is left in your cup. he nudges your shoulder gently, soft enough as to not startle you– you get extremely jumpy the more you drink.

your head tilts and a lazy smile spreads onto your lips when you register his warmth beside you. “hey,” your voice is low, slurred and incredibly affectionate paired with the way your eyes immediately lock onto his. if touya were sober he would’ve frozen like a deer in headlights at the sight of you.

but touya is comfortably drunk. comfortable and confident– even if that confidence is a front. his chest still feels tight and his hands shake a little, but if you bring it up he can just blame it on the alcohol.

“havin’ fun?” he asks, leaning in a bit so you could hear him over the music. you nod slowly, your lips never parting to speak but touya knows you’re feeling good. he juts his chin toward the cup in your hand, “what’cha drinkin’ sweetheart?”

his heart flips at the immediate smile the petname pulls onto your lips. “jack ‘n coke,” you mumble, holding the cup out towards him. the smirk on his lips falters just the slightest bit when the two of you swap cups. you’re drinking his usual. and he’s drinking something you would usually drink.

touya takes a sip from your cup and immediately feels the familiar burn of whiskey climb down his throat and settle into the bottom of his stomach. he knows you don’t like whiskey. dark liquor makes you do strange things, he remembers. that’s why you stick to clear alcohol, the cocktails and fruitier flavored drinks.

but instead of you doing something odd, it’s touya. your attention is back on the crowd when he opens his mouth. “how come we’ve never hooked up?”

touya doesn’t register the words until you’re practically spitting your drink out into your hand with a baffled expression. “touya!”

his eyes are wide, and he can’t help the little tingle that runs down his spine at the way you say his name. he coughs a little, trying to ease the awkwardness as best he can. “you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it at least once.”

“have you?”

his heart is in his throat. yes i have, he wants to confess, multiple times. i think about you in my bed almost every night, and not just being naked and panting after i’m done with you, but just laying next to me while we listen to my noisy ass neighbors as we try to fall asleep. i think about holding you in the middle of the night to keep warm because my heat sucks in my dorm room. i think about telling you i love you while holding you under the blankets you always steal from me when you come over to hang out.

instead, he does something even ballsier. “c’mere,” he murmurs, tugging on your wrist. he doesn’t expect you to follow him, considering he just implied sleeping together but when he looks over his shoulder you are trailing behind him, peeking at your feet as you walk as if you don’t trust your footing at all. he remembers you hide your soberness well when you’re still.

in a swift movement, he tugs you to the left; towards a bathroom that’s hardly ever used. your vision goes fuzzy with the sudden jolt, but touya’s hands are there on your hips before you stumble over completely, which gives him the perfect opportunity to place you ontop of the sink countertop. his hand is firm as he lets it rest on your thigh, leaning over to flip the lock on the bathroom door.

that sound has a sobering effect on your conscious. “touya–” you suddenly blurt out, your nerves clenching tight in your gut and a heavier flush spreading along your cheeks. “i don’t want to hook up–”

you see touya tense visibly in front of you. his fingers twitch along your thigh, and his head doesn’t lift for a couple of moments.

you realize how it sounds, after following him to a secluded area when he challenged the idea of you two getting more intimate. it sounds bad. your hands slap over your face, covering the rosy tint that has spread to the rest of your face with an anguished cry. “that’s not what i mean! not like that– i just–”

touya snorts in response. he can’t help it really, seeing you rattled when you’re normally so calm and collected around him forces a laugh to bubble from his chest. “why are you so flustered right now?” he teases, feeling a small flow of confidence enter his bloodstream. his hands glide along your thighs until they rest comfortably on your hips. “we’re just in a bathroom.”

“i panicked,” you whine a little. your hands lower so your eyes could meet his. your lower lip juts out and touya’s smirk grows wider. “don’t laugh at me.”

“i can’t help it,” he chuckles, the sound low and it vibrates down to your chest. “it’s too cute seeing you all shaken.” his thumbs dig into your sides as he leans in, caging you on top of the sink with his arms. “what’re you panicking for?” he murmurs, his tone gentle and surprisingly soothing given the shit-eating grin on his lips. he lifts a hand and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i thought we were…” your voice trails off, but your eyes are locked onto his. touya’s being bold, strangely affectionate– for him, that is– and it causes something to settle in the bottom of your gut. his hand lingers around your jaw, so you take it as a green flag to lift your own palms to his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt with shaky fingertips. “i didn’t want to… do something… stupid. to us.”

oh.

touya feels that confidence in his bones get ripped straight from under his skin. his heart skips a beat and his eyes flicker from your own to your lips. “what do you mean, ‘something stupid’?”

he thought he would be more prepared if this conversation were to ever happen. hell– he thought he’d be sober when you two finally delved into what exactly the two of you were. he hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart rate is behind his ribcage.

“do you think we’d mess up our friendship if we… did do something?”

you head nods almost automatically– albeit slowly, due to your foggy brain due to the alcohol– and something in touya’s expression falls. its subtle, but you know touya. you saw it even through the swimming lines in your vision.

your teeth catch onto your lower lip, a nervous habit that you have never been able to break. touya’s hand lifts and cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lip. “stop biting.”

the action and command sends a shiver down your spine. your lips press together and you try hard to resist the urge to continue chewing on your lip. “touya…” his name is a barely audible mumble coming out of your mouth, your eyes stay locked on his.

you barely hear the hum that echoes out of his chest. you can’t get over how… softly he’s looking at you. you’ve known touya todoroki for all of three years– since freshman year of uni– he’s never looked at you like this before. it’s different from the usual looks he gives you when it’s just the two of you, different from when it’s those late nights out at the park when he actually shares a blunt with you. he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon– like you’re the stars and he’s witnessing them for the first time.

that aloof facade is breaking more and more the longer your eyes don’t stray apart from one another. “why are you so nervous?” you don’t have to dig deeper to know he’s not just talking about having sex with you. he’s talking about the relationship.

“pretty sure i’m in love with you,” your voice is a whisper, barely audible. your head leans in and your forehead rests against his and his nose is warm against your own. you can smell the sweetness of the drink he shared with you on his breath and it’s intoxicating enough to make your eyes flutter shut to say the least. you loved sweet drinks. “i– i think i love you– i…”

for touya, the world stops. the noise of the party fades, he doesn’t even hear the roar of his blood pumping in his ears. his hands tighten their hold on your hips, tugging you ever so slightly closer towards him and he closes the distance between your lips.

his hands slide under your shirt, resting on your bare waist and the small of your back, his touch searing against the chilliness of your skin. he pours so much emotion into this kiss, saying the words he’s been too afraid of saying for months now with the touch of his mouth against yours. he can feel the blood pumping again when he feels your arms sling around his neck, returning the kiss just as eagerly.

it’s as if simultaneously the both of you have said; no more teasing, no more games– no more playing around.

touya groans as he feels you melt against him, the sigh you let out against his mouth probably the hottest thing he’s witnessed from you. he needs more. he’s allowed to be greedy now– he’s waited long enough.

one of his hands leaves your waist to tangle into your hair, tugging and smirking at the soft gasp it elicits from your mouth. it angles your head back and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss further.

“does this mean,” you’re mumbling against his mouth and touya wishes you’d stop talking so he could focus on just kissing you– “that you… you–” your hands delve into his hair, unable to finish the sentence. you try to speak, but everytime you find an opening to say words, his hands or lips move in a way that make your knees weak.

“if you can’t finish the damn sentence, i’ll do it,” he speaks through kisses, his hands roaming your skin under your shirt. “yeah, i love you too. obviously.”

you’re impatient by now, tugging the front of his shirt as you huff against his lips. your hands slide down his shoulders to his back, digging your nails into his skin just enough to where it bites and feels good. “we’re gonna talk about this more when we’re both sober.”

“you’re so cruel,” he grumbles against your mouth, groaning at the sting from your nails. he pushes further into you, catching your lower lip and biting it. he lifts a hand and moves it to rest at the base of your throat, his fingers splaying across your collarbone.

the action causes a gasp to leave you. your eyes flutter and he takes the chance slip his tongue into your mouth, humming when yours moves against his. “i don’t want to forget if you drunkenly ask me on a date right now,” you mutter against his mouth.

the kisses are growing more heated, more insistent. your legs spread more involuntarily to accommodate his body in between them and touya doesn’t need to be told twice before he settles in between them. he keeps a hand firm on your thigh and the other at the base of your neck, continuing to angle your head back.

“you’re cruel,” he repeats, breathless as he continues to kiss you. “you’d really deny your poor drunken boyfriend a date?”

if the bathroom door shutting didn’t fully sober you up, the word ‘boyfriend’ coming from touya’s mouth certainly finished the job. it short-circuits your brain– causing you to pause and dig your nails in sharply to the skin of his lower back. you let out a shaky exhale that’s easily swallowed by his mouth, your eyes roll backwards from his touch. “no– no, not denying–”

that’s when touya pulls away. there’s a satisfied chuckle that starts in his chest and rumbles past his lips– clearly he used that word on purpose. a cocky smirk spreads onto his lips for a split second before he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your jaw. “then go on a date with me,” he mumbles against your skin. “a proper date, not that stupid ‘hanging out’ bullshit we always do.”

your breath hitches at his tone and the feeling of his lips. “where are you gonna take me?” you ask coyly, your hands dip to his waistline, grazing along the button of his jeans and tugging.

it’s a dirty trick to distract him.

it works, but it also doesn’t. his head drops to watch you tug at his jeans and a strangled groan leaves his mouth. when he lifts his head his eyes are shut so tight you think the skin around them has gone white and his teeth are digging into his lower lip. he’s trying very hard to hold himself together.

“we’re gonna go out for dinner,” he starts, his voice low and strained. “somewhere nice and fancy. then we’re gonna go for a walk–”

“a walk?” your eyebrow lifts, skeptical but when touya shoots you a sharp glare you shrink back ever so slightly with a small, awkward giggle.

“a walk. a nice, long walk where i can put my arm around you without you running off before i can.”

his statement makes you swallow a lump that’s formed almost too quickly in your throat. your heart beats wildly, jackhammering against your ribcage it’s a wonder he can’t hear it or even see it bouncing against your chest. “‘m not gonna run this time,” you find yourself whispering.

your nose brushes against his when you lean in once more and you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. you pop the button on his jeans without another word and touya melts. the sound that leaves his mouth is a mix of a sigh and moan but it’s so low and hot it sends scorching sparks down your spine. your breath stutters in your throat the noise.

“jesus christ,” he hisses, but there’s no venom to it. his hands latch around your thighs and he tugs you closer towards him. being this close to him, you can feel the way his jeans strain against his body now that you’ve unbuttoned them and the heat is sweltering between the lower half of your bodies. he grips your thighs even tighter, his thumbs bruising into the flesh. “when i said ‘dinner and a walk’, i did not mean ‘dinner and a quickie in the bathroom of a frat party’.”

his voice shakes ever so slightly and it causes the corner of your mouth to lift. “tell me to stop,” you mumble, your breathing heavy against his jaw. you litter the skin with heated kisses, your fingers hesitant as they inch the fabric of his jeans down his hips agonizingly slow. “we can go to dinner and a walk tomorrow after we wake up–”

one of his hands grips the sink next to your thighs, his knuckles are white. he knows he shouldn’t push farther with you– even if it’s something the both of you want. but both of you are drunk, so fucking drunk and in the bathroom of a frat party for fucks sake and he was hoping his first time with you would be so much more intimate and special– “damn you,” he whispers, letting out a shaky exhale. “stop. stop.”

it takes a hell of a lot of restraint to pull away from him.

but you do. you withdrawal your hands, letting them hover around his hips before the settle onto the sink on either side of your hips. one hand clasps over touya’s and you give him a reassuring squeeze– trying to say the words you can’t voice at the moment.

a breathless ‘fuck’ falls from touya’s mouth the moment you pull away. his cerulean gaze finds yours again– studying your expression for several beats of silence before he steps closer again. “you don’t know how hard it was to have to tell you to stop,” he grouses, using a hand to yank his jeans back over his hips, securing the button clumsily. his chest rises and falls with uneven breaths. “you better hope noone finds out we’re in a bathroom together. we’re never gonna hear the end of it if they do. especially if they find out we did anything.”

your cheeks burn a little at touya’s rambling. “what,” you scoff, playing it off as a laugh, though your eyes refuse to meet his. “embarrassed to get caught in here with me?”

touya mocks your scoff in return. he can’t help the sass in his response, not caring about how it comes out of his mouth. “more embarrassed to get caught in you,” he muttered, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “do you know how embarrassing that would be?”

Your eyebrow lifts. Your head tilts, expression almost incredulous. “haven’t you hooked up with girls at parties before?” your eyes scan his expression, eyes narrowing into a glare almost. “what’s so embarrassing about me?”

shit.

touya’s words get caught in his throat. his heart feels like it’s leapt out of his chest and is doing freestyle dance moves on your lap just to taunt him. he feels like an idiot, he sounds like an idiot. he knows just from your expression.

“it’s… it’s different,” he says after an awkward bout of silence. “you’re you.”

i’ve been crushing on you since freshman year, and i don’t want to get caught in here and people assuming that i’m taking advantage of you because we’re both drunk–

your tongue presses between your lips and your eyes finally meet his. a single finger of yours reaches out, tugging the hem of his shirt to pull him closer and touya follows willingly. he’s close enough that your faces are inches apart again, your nose knocking against his and lips brushing against his with each word. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you murmur lowly.

he swallows visibly. he takes a minute to take in your features– to really look at you. your eyes are still the same shade, but they have a glaze from the alcohol. it makes you look softer– more vulnerable. a side he sees every so often, but he knows the sober sight of this side is something you save just for him. your cheeks have a specific shade of pink when you blush.

“it means you’re not just some girl,” he eventually mumbles. “a random girl that i can go and hook up with at a party and just forget about.”

there’s a tense silence between the two of you as you mull over his words. your eyes flick over his lips– swollen and wet from your kisses– before they meet his eyes, swallowing the lump that forms in your throat. “what am i to you?” you ask, your voice low and it’s the first time touya’s heard you be completely serious the entire night. “and don’t just say i’m different or your… girlfriend, touya– what are we?”

touya’s always loved the way you say his name. your voice is so soft, so light and tender, like you’re breathing out clouds or something. his breath stutters and his jaw clenches, tight and tense. his hands find your waist again, and when his eyes find yours he hates just how weak he is for you. how fast and easy you can get him to crumble with just a look. “you’re trying to get me to say something.”

“i said i loved you, touya,” your head tilts back in exasperation. the grumble that leaves your mouth is irritated and strained and your head tilts away from him to avoid the kiss he so desperately wants to press to your lips. your eyes shut and you mumble; “of course i’m trying to get you to say something.”

touya’s shoulders dip forward a bit when he hears the aggravation in your tone. “i said it back,” he retorts quickly, defensive. “i said i loved you too, do you not believe me?”

his eyes are sharp as they scan over your expression– trying to determine what exactly is going through your brain at the moment. he knows you’re still intoxicated, hell– he is too– but he can’t help but feel like he’s trying to break through a wall that truly doesn’t exist.

“why is it so hard to put a label on what we are then?” for the first time in a while since the two of you have met, this is the longest the two of you have held direct eye contact. touya’s eyes are still piercing, still intimidating, but they don’t scare you as much anymore.

for a few moments, the two of you stare at each other. touya can’t help but admire you, since he’s already so close. he still thinks you’re beautiful as the day he met you, and you can’t help but scan the slope of his nose or the curve of his lips.

when was the last time the two of you truly looked at each other?

“what do you want me to say?” touya speaks after a couple more beats of silence. his brows pinch together. “that… you’re my girlfriend?”

you can see how he hesitates with the word. it��s not that he didn’t want to say it, but it feels weird on his tongue. he’s never really had a dating life the entire time you’ve known him at uni, so you assume he’s rarely ever used the word. it’s not a word he thought he would be saying. girlfriend. “is that what you want?” his tone drops an octave, softer– he leans in to press a kiss to your lips and you don’t pull away from it.

“i just want to be yours,” you sigh against his mouth.

he lets his lips linger on yours for a couple more moments, stealing a few more kisses with gentle hums. his breath is steady and warm against your lips, your words make his chest twist and he doesn’t try to hide how it makes his heart skip. “you’ve always been mine. since freshman year.” his hands travel from your hips to rest at your sides. his touch is tender, his skin warm through the fabric of your clothes and you can’t help the wide smile that spreads onto your lips.

you’re his. you’ve always been his. even without knowing it.

“it’s not like i’m good at this relationship crap,” he adds after a moment. his eyes flit between yours and you can see the slightest bit of hesitation behind them. “there’s a lot of things i’ve never done before… but you already know that.”

you do. you know touya like the back of your hand, just like he does you.

“there’s things even i don’t know how to do,” you mumble back in reassurance. it’s your turn to steal a kiss from his lips, your skin is soft against his. “but i want to learn them. with you.”

touya melts willingly against your lips. he doesn’t hide it anymore. he loves how soft and addicting your lips are and how gentle the pressure of your mouth is against his own. he returns your peck, brushing past your mouth to press an affectionate kiss to your cheek. “anything you wanna do, i’ll be right there with you.”

you blush like a fucking school-girl at that. the feeling is so refreshing, the softness from touya is something unexpected but is oh so welcome.

a small chuckle leaves your mouth, your eyes dropping from his and taking in the scene around you. “so…”

touya is already a couple steps ahead of you. “cuddle at my place?” when you laugh in response, touya doesn’t hide the wide smile that spreads across his mouth.

#cache money!#happy birthday touya <3 #he's such a loser in this #need to eat him bad #also suck his di-#okay.#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #touya x reader #dabi bnha #dabi mha #dabi x reader

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kissandtellus · 28 days ago

Text

𝙰 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 & 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

Synopsis: Prince Rafayel is tied down by politics and what is expected of him as the next ruler of Lumeria. But one constant in his life, his beloved Knight, is what keeps him grounded.

Warnings: MC is a female Knight, Tooth-rotting Fluff, AU.

Authors Note: Let me know if I should write other chapters!

The grand Castle of Lemuria was lit up by lanterns as the sun began setting in the sky. The Royal family was beloved, not only for their kindness to their subjects, but the power and safety they provided.

A young, handsome Prince was perched on top of a ladder in his study, painting a massive portrait. It was familiar past time for the young Prince.

As Prince Rafayel ascended the creaky ladder, his eyes fixed on the unfinished ceiling painting, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to weigh him down. A subtle shift in his balance sent alarm through his Knight, who stood vigilant below, her hands outstretched to steady the ladder.

"Be careful, Sir Rafayel..." She chided her young Prince, concern evident in her voice. Yet he, in his youthful naivety, only laughed it off, promising to be more cautious, all while not heeding a word of it.

Rafayel painted with enthusiasm, the colors from his palette swirling and merging with the strokes of his brush. He had grand ideas for his kingdom, ideas that he believed would help his people. The ceiling, however, was his canvas for an ode to his future. On it, he had painted the image of a knight and a prince riding a white horse, their bond of friendship and loyalty clear in the art.

His Knight watched with a small smile as the Prince painted. “You have been up there all evening. I think it’s time you come down.”

“I’m almost finished, I promise!” Rafayel replied with a grin, his focus still on the ceiling. “Just a few more touches, and then this magnificent piece will be complete.”

He continued to apply the final strokes, completely absorbed in his work. He wanted this to be perfect; there was a hidden meaning behind each detail in this painting. The knight represented him, the prince, and his knightly companion below was his beloved bodyguard.

“Did you hear the news about the upcoming masquerade ball?” He called out while painting. “I don’t want to attend, but Father insists I go, as the Crown Prince I cannot refuse. Plus, he wants me to find a suitable spouse…” His voice trailed off, and the sounds of his painting stopped for a moment.

The Knight felt her heart skip a beat but shook her head. “That sounds like the perfect opportunity, my Prince.”

Rafayel paused again, the silence a testament to the weight of his thoughts. "It is an excellent opportunity, truly. I could potentially find a spouse who could help me secure alliances. However - " his voice trailed off, "Father has already chosen them for me. It all seems so...forced. Love isn’t meant to be arranged or transactional." He sighed. "I want to find love in my own way. On my own terms."

Rafayel climbed to the closest peak to the ceiling with a thoughtful expression.

“But...” he continued, as if a flicker of an idea sparked in his mind. “What if... what if I did bring someone to the masquerade?” He descended from the ladder, a smirk on his face. “What if I brought you?”

The Knight nearly toppled the ladder over on her own, a tinge of pink spreading across her face. “My Prince that would be…highly inappropriate. Your Father would be furious.”

Rafayel chuckled, feigning the sudden feeling of being faint. He held his pallet and paintbrush tightly to his chest, his thin undershirt clinging to him. “Oh, my lovely Knight. Rescue me.” He chuckled, before throwing himself backwards off of the ladder.

His Knight gasped and released the ladder, barely managing to catch him in her arms, her knees buckling from his weight. “My Prince!”

The young Prince chuckled, holding the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, whatever would I do without you.”

The Knight stiffened her jaw but inhaled deeply. “Is this because I refused your proposal to the Ball?”

Rafayel held her hand gently, his eyes meeting hers with sincerity. "But think of it, sweet Knight, what better opportunity than this? We can disguise ourselves, not as our roles in the palace but as our true selves. We could dance, we could laugh, we could forget our responsibilities, even if just for a night."

He moved a little closer, his voice filled with youthful optimism. "Just imagine it, a night of freedom where Prince and Knight are simply two friends dancing the night away."

"And maybe," Rafayel continued, his voice soft, "I could even ask you something important." His eyes held a glimmer of hope, the unspoken question hanging in the air. He wanted to know her true feelings, to know if there was a chance that she felt the same way he did, beyond their roles and duties.

"My lovely Knight," he asked cautiously, "will you go with me to the masquerade as my dance partner? Not as Prince and Knight, but as Rafayel and his Beloved?"

The Knight wasn’t entirely sure how she ended up in this stuffy ball gown and fox-like mask over her face. The halls were crowded and only the finest fish were served, seeing as how Lemuria was a sea-side kingdom known for its Naval and Power.

As the orchestral sounds of a lively waltz filled the air, Rafayel extended his hand towards his Knight, a boyish grin on his face. He was dressed in a regal blue outfit, his mask adorned with feathers and jewels, a perfect counterpart to her fox-like mask.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" He asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. There was something so thrilling about being here with her, without the usual constraints of their roles, able to simply enjoy each other's company.

While he had the chance, he whispered in her ear, his warm breath on the cold metal of her mask causing a shiver to run through her, "I have yet to tell Father my decision about who will be my spouse. However, I would love to hear your thoughts on what I should do."

His grip on her hand tightened slightly as he maneuvered her around the crowded ballroom with grace, his eyes locked on hers, filled with unspoken feelings. This might be the perfect night for them to express all the things they'd never dared to before.

The Knight always considered herself to have two left feet. She stumbled a little, but Rafayel was a patient teacher.

Seeing her little stumble, Rafayel couldn't help but smile fondly. "It's alright, we can take it slow." He reassured her, moving with her at a pace that she was comfortable with. "Just follow my lead," he added softly.

He loved this, being able to guide her, to help her, to watch her smile as they danced together amidst the grand spectacle. His heart beat a little faster with the realization. Could tonight be the night he would finally be brave enough to confess all that he felt for her?

"Tell me," he urged, leading his Knight into a gentle twirl, "what would you do if you were in my shoes?" His question was open, leaving it up to her interpretation whether she thought of it as the prince, or as someone with difficult choices to make.

It was Rafayel's way of seeking her opinion, hoping to gain some insight into her heart, to see what she thought he, as a person, should do. After all, they had agreed to this night as an escape from their roles, to just be Rafayel and herself.

The Knight avoided his beautiful purple eyes. “I have to thoughts on the matter, My Pr-I mean Rafayel. I have sworn myself to celibacy as your protector. Love is not in the cards for me.”

Rafayel's hand, still intertwined with the Knight’s, gave a small, gentle squeeze. "You're here as my friend tonight," he reminded her, a soft smile on his face. "And as a friend, your thoughts on what I should do would be greatly appreciated."

As the music continued to play, he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Besides, what if... what if the one I want to be with has always been here, right by my side?"

Rafayel's eyes searched hers, hoping to catch a glimmer of understanding. This wasn't just about the decision anymore; this was about them, a chance for them to explore their feelings.

"Let us forget about duty and obligations for a moment," he suggested, leading her towards the grand balcony that overlooked the kingdom. The night's cool air blew gently, carrying the scent of the sea and the laughter from the ball. He looked at her, a sincere smile on his face. "Would you tell me what you truly feel, My Knight? Tonight, as just two people."

As they stood on the balcony, Rafayel's heart was nearly pounding out of his chest. His eyes never left hers, waiting for her response. All around them, the party and its obligations seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, just Rafayel and his Knight.

"You're someone I trust deeply, someone who has always been there for me," he confessed, his voice low and filled with emotion. "But these feelings... they are different. I can't help but wonder if you feel them too. So, My Beloved Knight... what do you say?"

The Knight looks at the Prince, sees the desperation in his eyes. “My Prince, my feelings do not matter. My family have been servants of the Kingdom for generations. We cannot….”

Rafayel's face fell slightly as he absorbed her words. He knew about their history, of course. His heart, however, refused to give up so easily.

"My Heart, I'm not asking as your Prince," he insisted, stepping closer to her. "Tonight, I'm asking you, just as a person, if you see a possibility for us, beyond our titles. Love can transcend duty, can't it?"

He was aware of the potential complications, but he was beginning to believe it was worth fighting for.

"I can't deny my feelings for you. They've been burning inside me for so long. I don't know if it makes sense, but all I know is that when I look into your eyes, my heart leaps and feels so full."

His eyes were pleading as he gently took her hands in his. "I'm not asking you to betray your family or your duty. I'm simply hoping for an understanding. You're not just my protector, you're.. everything to me."

His voice wavered with emotion. "Can you... can you give me any hope?"

Rafayel's breath hitched as he leaned in closer, their masks nearly touching. "My Beloved..." he breathed, almost inaudibly, holding her gaze firmly.

He was on the verge of crossing a line, one that could change their relationship forever. It was a risk, but the connection between them was undeniable. And right now, all that mattered was her.

"Please tell me you feel the same..." he whispered, his voice laced with emotion. "Please, please let me know that my feelings aren't one-sided.”

#lads #lads x reader #love and deepspace #lads smut #lads rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel x you #love and deep space rafayel #rafayel smut #rafayel x y/n #rafayel fluff

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draconic-desire · 1 year ago

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A Dance With the Dragon II — Mates

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I] [Part II — You are here] [Part III] [Part IV]

Neuvillette brings you to your new “home”, which also comes with new challenges.

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, forced imprisonment, Neuvillette accidentally goes a little feral here, brief non-con at the end

One of the first things Neuvillette did was move you from the apartment at the Palais Mermonia (your prison for the past four centuries) to his personal residence. Securing his palms to your waist, he teleported you directly into the foyer of the massive home.

The interior was splashed with blues and whites that matched the Chief Justice’s own color palette. The upper walls were decorated with friezes depicting various marine creatures, from floating otters (how ironic) to bobbing seahorses. A grand spiral staircase led to the upper floor, while a set of double French doors connected the foyer to a massive living room adorned with plush love seats and armchairs, tasteful artwork of Fontainian landscapes, and enormous windows that overlooked the sea. It appeared the house was set into a cliffside, with the waves battering the rocks far beneath you.

You paced into the living room, running your hand along the blue silk couch cushions. To your left, a door led out to what appeared to be an inclosed courtyard with a miniature fountain. To the right was a closed door, a familiar dragon carved into its exterior. Your arm burned in resonance.

Though you were loathe to admit it, the place was beautiful.

“Do you like it?”

Shifting your gaze to him, it was clear that Neuvillette was desperate for your approval. Ever since he let you outside to discover the true length of your imprisonment, you had rarely spoken a word to him. Clearly, your silence had done a number on him, as the normally composed man was fidgeting nervously.

When you kept quiet, Neuvillette cleared his throat. “I admit, part of why things took so long was due to my insistence that everything be perfect for your arrival. I rearranged our bedroom perhaps a dozen times, and I couldn’t for the life of me decide what your personal room should entail.” When you glanced out towards the fountain, he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, that was a…sentimental addition. It makes me think of how we met.”

You’d never forget that Archons-damned fountain. If only you hadn’t been so naive. Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, go away.

Neuvillette extended his palm towards you in what appeared to be both a peace offering and an order. “Shall I give you a tour?”

Suddenly your feet appeared very interesting. What were you supposed to say? This technically was your home now, like it or not. You’d become painstakingly familiar with it with time. Although you weren’t imprisoned within the Palais as before, your new life still promised shackles nonetheless.

“Could you just show me my personal room?” You sighed. “I’d prefer to just rest after that.”

Neuvillette smiled softly, relishing the sound of your voice. “Of course.”

Twisting his fingers through your own, he led you towards the dragon door. Once again, your hidden tattoo pulsed with energy. It felt like a pull forward, a welcoming embrace. You realized then that there must be some sort of warding spell on this room, likely meaning only you and your captor could enter.

Marvelous.

Pushing the door open, Neuvillette swept his arm gracefully through the entrance. “After you, my love.”

You stepped in and immediately went still.

For in every direction around you was rows upon shelves upon stories of books.

Neuvillette had build you your own personal library.

And not just that. You noticed that entire sections pertained to your personal interests—marine biology, photography, even your personal favorite genres of novels. A separate door labeled Dark Room promised an avenue for you to pick up photography again. Similar couches and chairs as the living room were arranged around a huge coffee table, and a cracking hearth added to the cozy atmosphere.

Your throat bobbed. You had always dreamed of owning a room like this, a place where all your passions converged. But to have it under these circumstances…you didn’t know how to react, torn between frustration and a grateful little voice in the back of your head that you buried at once. No, I didn’t earn this. I don’t want this. It was forced on me.

All you could choke out was, “This is…mine?”

“Down to the last book.” You could hear the pride in his voice. “I spent the most time on this room. Over a century to get it right.”

You startled. A century? Your heart stumbled, but your hands fisted by your sides. So much given, yet what had it cost you?

Shaking your head, you simply said, “I’d like to be alone.” Connecting your eyes with his, you could see his hurt, the expectation of a grand reaction on your part that you refused to indulge.

However, the look was quickly wiped from his face, for he must have seen something broken in your facade. A muscle in his jaw feathered as he approached you, a gloved hand stroking your cheek. “I understand you must be overwhelmed. I’ll leave you to explore,” Neuvillette said, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading for the exit.

“Neuvillette?”

Said man turned back towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Why me?” You grabbed your arm where the shadow of your draconic tattoo hid. “Why…all this?”

His gaze immediately softened. “My dear, we have centuries for me to show you.”

~*~

It was times when Neuvillette was vulnerable that it was hardest to hate him.

He had returned home after a long day at court to find you sitting in the courtyard on the edge of the fountain, peering up at the night sky as if the stars held some answers. Moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, and if he didn’t already think you a goddess, he would have pledged himself to you then and there.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, too involved in your own thoughts. True to his word, Neuvillette had given you time and space to enjoy your new (cage) home. You had to admit, it was a major upgrade from the Palais, and you knew the Iudex would continue to let you explore Fontaine, if you tolerated his presence beside you. However, you knew this dance wouldn’t last—it was only a matter of time before Neuvillette expected something in return. It was abundantly clear that he desired your affections, but how far would he go in order to sway you? To fully make you his?

A sea breeze whipped around you, eliciting an involuntary shiver to rip up your spine.

A sudden warmth enveloping your form brought you back to reality. Blinking in surprise, you peered up to see the Chief Justice smiling softly at you, his purple irises sparking with longing and care. His elaborate attire was gone, leaving only his pale undershirt.

He’d given you this coat.

“I…thank you,” you mumbled, averting your eyes from the man.

“Do my ears deceive me? Did my dear (Y/n) actually acknowledge me?”

Your grip on his robes tightened. “Don’t mistake my words for kindness. I haven’t forgotten what you are.”

A sigh. “Despite what you may believe, I’m not a monster.”

You deadpanned. “You’re quite literally the Hydro dragon.”

“Archons above,” Neuvillette whispered, glancing up at the sky as if it held the key to winning your heart. “I was referring to a monster in the definition you humans use.”

“What? You mean like a man who would kidnap and imprison an innocent person—”

“Considering you are not in the Fortress of Meropide, I’d hardly consider this imprisonment.”

“What, have I offended you?” A scoff left escaped you. “If you want to play house, at least own up to your actions. Don’t pretend you’re some sort of gentleman.”

Neuvillette was silent for a beat, his mouth a thin line. Unexpectedly, his muscles relaxed as he released his tension. He lowered his large frame, taking a seat next to you. “You’re right.”

You sketched a brow in surprise.

Neuvillette trained his eyes on his palms, facing upwards in his lap. “I understand neither what it means to be human, nor what it means to be a god. I was given this duty to protect and uphold the laws of Fontaine, and yet I cannot save those who need it most.” His fingers formed fists, and his lids closed solemnly. “Carole, Vautrin…all of the others I have failed…”

You worried your lower lip. Although he had already informed you of his friends’ fate in your absence, it was still a raw wound for the both of you. Yet the anguish in Neuvillette’s eyes twisted your heart. How could a man be so duplicitous, so capable of both justice and blind obsession?

As if sensing your conflict, Neuvillette gently took your face in his hands, tilting your chin so that your eyes locked once again. His eyes danced with silver sparks of emotion, like cracks of lighting across a dark sea. A thumb brushed away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“So if I can protect but one thing, one person, I will do it.”

~.~

You often noticed that Neuvillette’s horns got stuck in his robes.

Honestly, it was kind of humorous. In the beginning, watching him struggle gave you a sick sense of satisfaction. You’d take any circumstance that inconvenienced him, however petty that might be.

But today, seeing the Chief Justice pouring over a case regarding the protection of Fontaine’s sea life at an ungodly hour, head propped on a fist to keep him awake, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic when he emitted a low hiss as his horns tangled into the ornamentation of his attire once again. “Damned human attire,” he cursed.

Neuvillette wasn’t an inherently bad man. In fact, your own case aside, he had invoked significant and positive change in Fontaine’s legal system. He judged cases fairly and prudently, working himself ragged each day to ensure the nation’s safety. It would have been admirable to you in any other circumstance.

You didn’t know what possessed you when you stepped behind him and carefully untangled his twin blue horns.

At your touch, Neuvillette immediately froze. His heart rate skyrocketed and his mind went blank because you were touching him.

And not just anywhere, but his horns. Unbeknownst to you, a dragon’s horns were the most sensitive part of its body, only to be handled by itself or its mate. One brush was akin to a lovers embrace, the whisper of a kiss, the hot breath shared between partners in the thralls of passion. Not only was the touch intensely intimate, it was also an acknowledgement—an acceptance of the male’s advances onto his partner.

Oh, if only you knew how many times he had fantasized about this, your acknowledgement of him and his love for you. Although his rational, human side knew your touch as unintentional, the dragon within Neuvillette reared and roared against his skin, demanding to be set free upon its mate.

“Your horns were caught,” was all you said as you settled back into the sofa, flipping to the marked page of your novel.

If you had looked up, you would have witnessed the Iudex gently touching his horns in awe. He swore he could still feel the brush of your palm against him, shivering delightfully at the mere memory of your touch.

Little did you know that your simple act of kindness would unleash the storm.

~*~

The one unfortunate deviation of your current accommodations from the Palais Mermonia was Neuvillette’s unyielding insistence on sharing a bed.

You had foolishly thought escaping him, even if just within the confines of your shared home, would be simple. You believed the library, what he even referred to as your room, would be your bedroom as well. Despite the lack of an actual bed, the plush couches and ever-lit fire provided more than enough comfort to lull you to sleep.

But when you had opened your eyes, you were mere inches away from Neuvillette’s shirtless, sleeping form.

You had assumed it was due to the draconic symbol guarding the room; perhaps it linked you to him more than you had thought. So, the next night, you decided to sleep in the parlor instead.

Only for your hopes to be shattered the next morning when you awoke not only in bed with your captor, but with your limbs entwined.

Anger, shame, and a touch of something you couldn’t quite place—something not entirely unpleasant—flooded you as you tore yourself out of his embrace. How was he doing this? Was it magic, or would he physically carry you to bed each night?

This pattern repeated itself. You would pick various places around the huge house to retire for the night. However, you would wake up in bed next to Neuvillette each morning without fail.

You had even reverted to your previous stubbornness and slept on the ground a few nights, but to no avail. It seemed you were bound to his bed.

Tonight, you decided to face the issue head-on. You stormed up the stairway and into the spacious bedroom, ignoring the pain in your lower back due to all the errant surfaces you had tried to sleep on. The downy pillows and lush, cream comforter practically begged you to surrender to the king-sized bed and its occupant.

Instead, you halted at the foot of the bed and crossed your arms. “You have to stop this.”

Neuvillette immediately looked up from the tome in his lap, his reading glasses slipping down his nose. He hadn’t yet changed out of his white dress shirt, and the buttons revealed a hint of his toned chest as he set the book down. “And what exactly are you demanding I stop?”

You huffed a laugh. “I wish I could say all of this,” you waved your hands around, as if that would convey the entirety of the situation, “but I mean putting me in your bed each morning.”

“Our bed,” he corrected, as if that were the issue.

“No, your bed. Are you really telling me that with all this space, you can’t just let me sleep alone?”

He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them on the nightstand. “I could, but I don’t want to.”

You seethed. “Well, I do.”

Neuvillette’s violet gaze pinned you with something like hurt. “Have I truly done something to upset you? It seemed as if you were settling into our new home quite nicely. Our conversation and touches were…” His throat bobbed. “Pleasant.”

You narrowed your eyes and bit out, “Don’t take any of that as complacency. You’re still a monster.”

Neuvillette flinched in response and, for just a moment, you felt a piece your heart falter. That is, until he whispered, “Mates don’t sleep apart.”

The room went utterly still.

Your voice came out as a breath of air, but the words were clear: “I am not your mate.”

It was then that you noticed the claws emerging from his fingertips, piercing into the sheets under his form. His eyes flashed silver, dangerous as knives. You could have sworn you saw a pair of elongated canines as he grit his teeth. “You have no idea how difficult it has been,” he breathed, voice tight, desperate.

On instinct, you took a pace back. You suddenly felt like a cornered animal, unable to avert your gaze from those claws that looked ready to tear into you. Clearly you had misjudged the situation—the Hydro Dragon was a starved, deadly predator, and you were practically served on a silver platter as its next meal.

Icy panic raced through your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, so out of control and inhuman. Trying to mediate the situation, you put your hands up in surrender. “Neuvillette, listen to me. Just calm down.”

You had hoped that saying his name would do just that, but it seemed to only rile him up further. The Chief Justice of Fontaine actually growled in response. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. “You deny your mate, and now you’re telling me to simply calm down?”

Another step back. Just put out the fire and deal with the consequences later. “I apologize for being confrontational. I think it’s best if I just go—”

Before you could react, Neuvillette pounced forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you onto the bed. You released a cry and tried to scramble away, but he spun you around and pinned your back against the mattress with his muscular frame. He loomed above you on all fours, his hands gripping your arms and applying just enough pressure to hold you still without hurting you. The glint in his eyes, however, promised pain that was yet to come. You were the prey about to get its throat torn out.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You struggled, heart skyrocketing at the feel of his arousal pressing against your core.

"Something I’ve needed to do for four hundred years," he growled huskily, his breath fanning your lips moments before they slammed against yours.

The kiss was hungry, predatory. Obsessive. You could feel the release of each year, each century, as his mouth devoured yours. You arched your back in an attempt to get away, but Neuvillette was quicker. He lifted your form easily and slammed your back against the bed once again. At your gasp of shock, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You fumbled around for something, anything that you could take purchase of. Your arms were pinned, but you were just barely able to grab onto the first thing and tug: his horns.

Neuvillette moaned, a deep, throaty sound that sent heat flooding through you.

It was in that moment you realized your mistake. You recalled how some marine animals with horns had millions of nerves within them, making these appendages a source of sensory stimulation. When you had started adjusting his horns after they were getting stuck, it must have been like touching his—

Oh, fuck.

Neuvillette released you arms, grinding against your thigh. “Do that again,” he begged, though it came out as more of a growled order.

“Neuvillette, stop—” An involuntary whine escaped your lips.

Your lewd noises only instigated him. His movements became more erratic as he slid a clawed hand up your leg and to your core, which was protected by only a nightgown. You jerked as his finger pinched your clit, eliciting another whine.

Neuvillette’s eyes sparked with heat, dual purple flames that devoured your form. “That’s it, my dear. Let me take care of you.” He bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out. He was marking you before he took you fully.

“Tonight, you become more than my wife. You become my mate.”

~*~

You laid there limply in Neuvillette’s arms. He peppered you with kisses and whispered words of protecting you and lofty dreams of your future together, but it fell on deaf ears. None of it made you forget about the bites along your neck or your throbbing core.

You couldn’t believe you had let his kindness fool you for even a second.

You had to escape this prison.

#yandere #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #dragon #obsessive love #tw kidnapping #tw noncon touching #neuvillette doesn’t understand the concept of personal space #neuvillette is down bad #mates

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ink-ghoul · 1 year ago

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u said after the session youd tell us more abt the skin right? hiiiii pls i need to hear abt this man ^_^

uuhhhh i forgor i had these asks uhhhh LAST MINUTE BREAKDOWN BEFORE THE FINALE

I definetely didn't put this together at 11pm ghhgjgjh no no ....

Anyways, these are pretty much all my intentions with the design, of course you're free to do whatever, artists interpretations are always fun and lovely to see

I think these are my fave work so far because I had room to add more details due to the theme of his role in this season, anything trader/western/magical related calls for all sorts of wares

NOTES BY ME <3

With the Red Life one it isn't to different from the themes of the Green / Yellow I just changed the color palette to be evil but still having accents of color and a couple changes to how his shawl is arranged. The resemblance to LL!Scar is intentional, but I feel LL is Sad-evil and SL is Unhinged-evil, let him bring chaos.

#goodtimeswithscar #ask #anon #madokaakemi

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 9 months ago

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Possessive rich Wanda who doesn't know how to show affection but loves you anyways save me pls

Her fucking you roughly while mumbling 'mine' under her breath

She can't keep her hands off you, especially in public

Every time you go out, she only has eyes for you, buying you whatever you want and making sure you're happy

You're happy whenever you're with her, but when you tell her that she just blushes and tells you to buy something else

She decorates your shared bedroom with whatever you like, color palette and trinkets and all, and when you ask her what she'd like in the room, she just shrugs and tells you that she's happy when you're happy

You get her a personalized Christmas gift, just a small thing, a pendant. Inside is a picture of you on one side, and a picture of Pietro on the other.

You tell her its so she can carry the two people she loves most with her at all times

She cries, and you hold her, telling her that as much as you love what she's willing to spend on you, you're just happy to be around her everyday and don't need much more than her presence to love her and want her in your life

She pleasures you in the bedroom until your mind is much and your nerves are frazzled, but almost always refuses your offer to return the pleasure

When you break through to her, she lets you eat her out for the first time, gripping your hair and cumming while she chants your name

You tell her how much you love her as you slip your fingers inside her, bringing her to another orgasm quickly even as your own legs still shake from the overstimulation she'd just put you through

Cuddling with her afterwards, and learning, growing, and healing together as your relationship progresses

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backstageinfatuationvn · 1 month ago

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I remember seeing a lil animatic(?) on Twitter on how you worked on Kier’s design for 6 years. I can’t find it anymore tho 😭 but what was your thought process when designing him? I luv luv luvvvv his design smmmm 🥹❤️ you n your co-creator are doing an amazing job 🫶

The animatic is still on my personal twitter account! And thank you!! SUPER LENGTHY POST BUT HERE WE GO!

Originally Kier had black hair and a similar haircut to Kethan (old art from 2024)

The first one was actually him dressed as the phantom of the Opera since he is one of the main inspos (old inspo meme I did)

Kier was originally created 6 years ago actually, back then I also made many versions of him. But the most important one was Gacha (yes I was a gacha kid 💔)

I sadly don't have his gacha photos anymore since it was from a very ancient phone but if memory serves me right, he would've looked like this. Yes I installed the app again HAHAHA

He didn't originally have midnight blue eyes. That was added when I started bringing him back to my works before Backstage Infatuation.

Personality wise, he is originally a yandere! Nothing changed from there in terms of that but interestingly enough... Back then in my gacha days, I originally shipped him with another male OC. A BL gacha series was planned where it centered around Kier's obsession with the male OC but was later discontinued for reasons I cannot remember. It was a long, long, looong time ago.

I focused on other stuff so he started catching dust until I picked him up around early 2024. That's when I started planning for his comeback after remembering past memories on a random tuesday night before sleeping LMAO

I drew two pieces before his redesign (the first two images), this was when I was into the yandere vn games.

Just wanna shout out these two games because these inspired me to make my own!! YOU and HIM and TKATB really inspired me to make Backstage Infatuation (there was also Dramatical Murder). I also have a love for Idol culture and Kpop, so I based Backstage Infatuation on my interests.

It is no secret that Backstage Infatuation is a passion project of mine, most of the characters in the game are old ocs being brought back to life and new ocs being finally used. Kier was one of those OCs that were brought back to life and needed a new makeover.

Fast forward to November 2024, I started redoing Kier and originally came up with his overall face and hair.

Interestingly enough, I actually came up with his idol fit first after seeing an outfit on Pinterest!

This is the original concept of his first idol outfit draft, felt it was too plain but really liked the black and white theme.

Second try and I came up with this! Even added silver feathers to symbolize LUXE's angel theme.

I added midnight blue (with stars) accents and it really made them look ethereal and elegant, at least for me. Which fits the group's original concept!

For his casual outfit, I wanted to go with something stylish and cool at the same time. I went with techwear influence and came up with the outfit now used in the game! Originally he didn't have black leather pants, but denim... It didn't look good in my opinion. 😭

Old and New design comparison

I kinda stole Nightwing's color palette for his clothes and changed a few stuff (mostly the blue)— Sorry I just really like Nightwing 😭 HAHAHA.

Few tweaks there and there, I became satisfied with his design!

I also made different outfits for him, a easter egg outfit I plan to add, his summer outfit and spring time outfit. I do love dressing up my son and exploring different fashions for him. ❤️

I do enjoy designing clothes and outfits. (Already reached the 10 image limit so here's a poorly made collage)

Sorry if this took a long time 😭 I had to find my old gallery saves for some of the pictures but this was such a fun ask to answer! It's nice to have a memory refresh ❤️

I hope this answered everything and so SORRY IF IT'S LENGTHY 😭😭 - Ive (Creator)

#backstage infatuation #behind the scenes backstage infatuation

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wisesoultarot · 3 months ago

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Who is your future spouse? Pick an image

Instagram | Tip Jar | Book a Reading with me now!!

🌷IMAGE 1:

The color red, often associated with intense emotions, plays a significant role in your reading, serving as a powerful symbol of passion, courage, and boldness. This vibrant hue suggests that your future partner will embody these very traits, presenting themselves as a confident and action-oriented individual who thrives on exploration and adventure. Rather than conforming to societal rules or traditions, they will embrace a more spontaneous and free-spirited approach to life, seeking out new experiences and challenges with enthusiasm.

While this adventurous nature may lead them to act impulsively at times, it is precisely this fearlessness that distinguishes them from others. They are not afraid to take risks or step outside their comfort zone, which can lead to exciting and unexpected journeys together. Their willingness to embrace the unknown will inspire you to join them in their pursuits, fostering a sense of adventure in your relationship.

In addition to their boldness, this person radiates warmth and positivity, creating an inviting atmosphere wherever they go. Their natural ability to spread joy and optimism will uplift those around them, making them a source of inspiration and motivation. You will find that their infectious energy can brighten even the dullest of days, encouraging you to adopt a more positive outlook on life.

Moreover, their quick-thinking mind and insatiable curiosity drive them to constantly seek knowledge and understanding. They are not content with surface-level information; instead, they delve deep into subjects that pique their interest, always eager to learn and grow. This intellectual curiosity will keep you engaged and alert, as they share fascinating insights and ideas that challenge your own perspectives.

Together, you and your future partner will embark on a journey filled with passion, adventure, and intellectual stimulation. Their boldness will encourage you to step outside your own boundaries, while their warmth and positivity will create a nurturing environment for your relationship to flourish. As you navigate life together, you will find that their fearless spirit and thirst for knowledge will not only enhance your connection but also inspire you to embrace your own passions and dreams.

🌷IMAGE 2:

This individual embodies a sense of romance and daydreaming that is truly enchanting, captivating all who encounter their presence. Their essence is painted in an abundance of white, yellow, and blue hues, colors that symbolize purity, joy, and tranquility. This vibrant palette suggests that they exude an air of mystique, drawing others in with an almost ethereal quality. Beneath this enchanting exterior lies a deep-seated purity, a genuine heart that radiates kindness and compassion.

They possess a remarkable ability to spread positivity, creating an uplifting atmosphere wherever they go. It is as if they carry a light within them, one that never casts negative energy onto others. Instead, they inspire those around them to embrace their own potential and pursue their dreams. Their kindness is not just a trait; it is a way of being that enriches the lives of everyone they touch.

In the realm of manifestation, this individual excels with an effortless grace. They have a unique talent for bringing their desires to fruition, as if the universe conspires to align with their intentions. This ability is enhanced by their strong connection to intuition and spirituality, which serves as a guiding force in their life. Their spiritual depth adds to their allure, making them not only captivating but also profoundly charming.

While they are inherently romantic and gentle, there exists a sensual side to them that they tend to keep private. This intimate aspect of their personality is reserved for that person who deem special, creating a sense of exclusivity and intrigue. It is in these moments of vulnerability that their true depth is revealed, showcasing a complexity that goes beyond the surface.

Rather than challenging or provoking, this person serves as a beacon of inspiration and motivation. They encourage personal growth and empowerment in those fortunate enough to be in their presence, fostering an environment where others feel safe to explore their own potential. Their influence is subtle yet profound, leaving a lasting impact on the hearts and minds of those they encounter. In a world that often feels chaotic, this individual stands as a reminder of the beauty of kindness, the power of dreams, and the magic of genuine connection.

🌷IMAGE 3:

Choosing a life partner is one of the most significant decisions you will make, and it is crucial to approach this selection process with a great deal of care and discernment. The importance of finding someone who resonates with your core values and lifestyle cannot be overstated; compatibility is the foundation upon which a lasting relationship is built. As you embark on this journey, it is vital to maintain an open mind and be willing to explore a variety of dating possibilities. This exploration will not only broaden your understanding of what you seek in a partner but also enrich your romantic experiences.

During your early twenties, particularly until you reach the age of 25, you are likely to experience a dynamic and sometimes tumultuous romantic landscape. This period is marked by significant personal growth and transformation, as you navigate the complexities of relationships and self-identity. It is a time when you will learn more about yourself, your desires, and the qualities that are truly important to you in a partner. This journey of self-discovery is essential, as it will lead you to a profound spiritual awakening, granting you clarity and insight into what you truly want from a romantic relationship.

As you engage in various romantic experiences, you may encounter individuals who are at different stages in their lives. Some may be overly focused on their careers, leaving little room for a meaningful relationship, while others may be transient, unwilling to commit to anything serious. These encounters, while sometimes frustrating, are part of the learning process that will ultimately prepare you for a more stable and fulfilling partnership.

Once you have navigated this transformative phase, you will find yourself better equipped to enter into a serious relationship. You will have a clearer understanding of your own needs and desires, which will enable you to identify a partner who aligns with your vision for the future. The person you are destined to find will likely embody qualities of practicality, stability, and a grounded nature—traits often associated with strong earth sign characteristics. This meaningful connection will emerge as you focus on your career and financial aspirations, creating a solid foundation for a relationship that can thrive alongside your personal and professional growth.

In summary, the journey to finding a life partner is one that requires patience, openness, and a willingness to learn from each experience. By embracing this process and remaining true to yourself, you will ultimately attract a partner who complements your life and supports your aspirations, leading to a fulfilling and lasting relationship.

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kalwithatrenchcoat · 3 months ago

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In your art with the Doey boy’s human forms, I love how each of their signatures(?) is so distinct, that’s such a cool detail and it’s so neat to see you adding it! I also think it’s interesting how they all have eyes that are a very familiar shade of blue, and Matthew having that blue hoodie as well! The details you add in your art are always so nice, I keep going back just to look at them over and over! I especially like how fluffy they all are, it brings me joy :)

Thanks so much, I appreciate your appreciation for that! Took a bit of a while to imagine them as humans, especially for Matt and Kevs.

Regarding how they write, I was inspired by something similar and wanted to continue that piece of imagining how their penmanship would look like, differing from one another; and how it could tell them apart by just the look of it in their "Conscience Version."

The blue eyes were intentional—Doey himself is now part of them, so it's sort of a reciprocation. (If the boys have themselves reflected in coats of red, orange, and yellow arms on Doey, then Doey takes his place in their eyes, hence they have eyes of blue.)

The hoodie is simply a "reminder" of sorts that they are enveloped by Doey—carrying it around wherever they go (carrying a part of Doey in a sense for that matter.)

Any one of them can wear the hoodie:

Matthew would have it tied and let it hang by his shoulders. Kevin would wear it around his waist or top. Jack would just wear it as is; a simple yet adored hoodie. (Though, he'll find it hilarious at how loose and big it is on him.)

Their designs are more of a lightly colorful and lively style and palette. I wanted them to have that life-like feeling and character as...they are, in human form, of flesh.

So, they got to have the look of "life" on them and within them. I suppose that is how I portray them as humans (whilst being Doey.)

#Doey the doughman #poppy playtime #poppy playtime fanart #poppy playtime chapter 4 #poppy playtime chapter four #Matthew Hallard #Kevin Barnes #Jack Ayers #The Boys of 1322: Human Version #Kal's Art Gallery

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beserkerjewel · 9 days ago

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Now that I have your attention, let me bring your attention to Eyad and Ever Mile Charity!

The people of Palestine, and Eyad himself, are suffering from a famine, and Eyad is doing everything he can to help his people and himself and his family, as well. We need to return that kindness and do everything we can to help him.

We're at $17,869 USD/$20,000! Please keep sharing and donating. We're so close to reaching the full goal!

Tagging: @kyra45 @oediex @comintoyoulive @wonhos-fabuloso @prisonhannibal @myceliacrochet @afro-elf @dirhwangdaseul @postanagramgenerator @closet-keys @skunkes @3000s @tamamita @sayruq @sar-soor @neechees @a-shade-of-blue @rickybabyboy @wis-art @wolfertinger666 @valtsv @feluka @fray @ot3 @paper-mario-wiki @prinnay @sporesgalaxy @skunkes @pitbolshevik @noble-kale @dirhwangdaseul @omegaversereloaded @viruvec @liyrical @emil @arttla @ezrazone @tpwrtrmnky @punkitt-is-here @closet-keys @paper-mario-wiki @joshpeck @wolfythewitch @wolfertinger666 @fairuzfan @zzoupz @carry-on-my-wayward-butt @color-palettes @tamarrud @taffybuns @shencomix @extremelycursedimages @amygdalae @joshpeck @sapphling @color-palettes @biracy @soranatus

#palestine

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d-targaryenshoe · 1 year ago

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Reflected Love - Benedict Bridgerton

Word Count: 1761

Summary: When one does not see the beauty of themselves, maybe the person that loves them the most can show them, can they not?

You sat in the corner of the room, your gaze fixed upon your husband as he carefully mixed the paints on his palette.

His concentration was absolute, his movements precise and deliberate. You couldn't help but marvel at the way he could lose himself in his work, becoming utterly absorbed by the process of creation.

It was as if he were a different person when he was painting.

You recalled the first time you had seen him in this form when you were still courting.

He had been painting a portrait of you, and you had felt a strange mix of awe and vulnerability as you had watched him capture your likeness on canvas.

It was as if he had been able to see straight into your soul, revealing a depth of understanding that you hadn't known was there.

The canvas he was working on now was a landscape, a serene meadow with a winding stream and a stand of trees in the distance.

The sunlight danced across the scene, casting dappled shadows that you could almost feel on your skin.

It was a peaceful image, a study in tranquility, and you wondered if it was meant to represent something particular in his mind.

You were about to ask him when he paused, his brush hovering above the canvas. "What do you think, dearest?" His voice was soft, almost tentative.

You considered the question for a moment. The light was beginning to fade, and the room was growing dim.

You moved closer to the painting, your eyes taking in the details that you hadn't noticed from afar.

"It's beautiful, Ben," you said truthfully. "It reminds me of the day we picnicked at the lake, just outside of town."

He looked up at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You remember that?"

You nodded, your heart swelling at the memory. "Of course, It was one of my favorite days with you."

He smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he returned to his painting. "I'm glad you think so. I've been trying to capture that feeling of serenity and peace in this landscape. Do you think I've succeeded?"

You studied the painting once more, taking in the way the colors danced across the canvas, the gentle brushstrokes that created the impression of a soft breeze rippling through the grass and the leaves of the trees.

"Yes, I believe you have, love. It's beautiful." you paused, your eyes meeting his once more. "But there's something else I've been wanting to speak to you about."

Your husband's brush hovered over the canvas, waiting for you to continue. He had always been attentive to you, and quick to offer support and understanding.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "It's about myself," you said softly. "Lately, I've been feeling rather self-conscious. I've been wondering if I look...different to you."

Benedict's brow furrowed in confusion. "Different? Of course not, my love. You're the most beautiful woman in the world to me." He set his brush down on the palette and turned to face you. "Why do you ask?"

"Just rather curious, yet you're my husband, I felt like I wanted to know."

Your words hung in the air between you, and Benedict took a moment to consider his response. He knew that you were likely referring to the change in your relationship since courting became a marriage.

"I do see you differently now, my love," he said gently. "But not in a way that makes you any less gorgeous or desirable to me. I see the depth of your soul, the strength of your character, the love that you bring into my life."

He moved closer to you, taking your hands in his. "You are my wife, y/n, and nothing will ever change that."

You smiled at his words, feeling the warmth of his touch. "I know that. It's just...I want to make sure you're happy. I want to be the woman you need me to be."

Benedict held out his hand towards you. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. As he took your hand in his, you felt a sense of peace and reassurance wash over you. "What are you going to do?"

"Trust me," Benedict answered, leading you over to the long mirror that was placed in the corner of the room, standing behind you.

He started to undo the ties of your dress, making the fabric fall down to the ground.

"I want you to close your eyes," he whispered, his voice low and gentle. "And just feel."

You hesitated for a moment, then obeyed. You felt the cool air caress your skin as he moved your hair aside, exposing your neck.

His touch was so light, so gentle, that it sent shivers down your spine. You breathed in deeply, letting the sensations wash over you.

You felt his fingers trace circles on your back, and you arched your spine instinctively, wanting more.

It was a strange, intoxicating feeling, being so vulnerable and yet so desired. You could hear the soft rustle of his clothes as he moved closer, and the warmth of his body against yours made your heart race.

With a soft moan, you let your head fall back against his shoulder, allowing him to guide your movements.

His touch was confident and sure, and you felt utterly safe in his embrace. He placed a tender kiss at the base of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Look at yourself," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Look at how captivating you are."

You obeyed, opening your eyes and gazing into the mirror.

The reflection showed you how Benedict had his strong arms wrapped tightly around you.

She could see the intensity in his eyes as he looked down at you, his expression one of pure adoration.

As he continued to hold you close, you could feel the hardness of his body against yours, and you longed for him.

His touch was so gentle and tender, yet so possessive and demanding. He lowered his head and kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours.

You moaned into his mouth, arching your back as he took control, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

He guided your hands to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

You ran your nails lightly across his skin, teasing him, and he growled with pleasure.

Benedict pulled away from the kiss, gazing down at you with fierce adoration. "I need you," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

You arched your back, offering yourself to him. "Have me," you whispered, feeling a delicious ache spread through your body.

He moved with a grace that belied his strength, guiding your hips to meet his rhythm.

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each stroke deeper and more urgent than the last.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving tiny half-moons in his skin as he drove into you, claiming you as his own.

You gasped his name, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your bodies moved together in a dance of desire.

He kissed you roughly, his tongue tangling with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip.

You arched your back, feeling the familiar tension building deep within you.

You could feel the pull between you both, the connection that went beyond physical desire.

It was as if you were two halves of a whole, perfectly fitted together. He thrust into you harder, faster, his eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror.

"You're so beautiful," he growled, his voice rough with desire.

You moaned in reply, arching your back to meet his thrusts. "I want you," you breathed, feeling the familiar tension building deep within you. "I need you."

Benedict growled, his movements becoming more urgent as he drove deeper inside you.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue dancing with yours.

You could feel his strength, his power, as he held you close, his hands running down your back, cupping your bottom, lifting you higher against him.

"Oh God," you moaned, your voice breaking as you moved with him, your bodies in perfect sync.

You could feel the mirror under your hands, and the contrast between the hard surface and the softness of his skin only served to heighten your senses.

Benedict's movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked into your eyes.

"That was..."

Your words trailed off as you clung to Benedict, your bodies still entwined. The intensity of your lovemaking had left you both breathless, your hearts racing.

You could feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady rhythm of his breath in your ear.

He had been so rough with you, driving into you with such urgency, but it hadn't been overwhelming. It had been exactly what you needed.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you remembered the look in his eyes, the way he had looked at you as if you were the only person in the world.

You knew that you had given yourself to him completely, and in that moment, you couldn't imagine ever wanting anyone else.

As your breathing began to steady, you could feel the weight of his body pressing against yours, the warmth of his skin.

You could still feel the mark of his hands on your hips, the impression of his fingers against your skin.

It was as if he had left a part of himself there, branding you as his own.

"Not that, but you, you are, the center of everything I do," Benedict said.

You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against your fingertips. "So are you," you replied, looking deeply into his eyes.

"But if I'm right, we're still very naked in this room where every moment one of your siblings can walk in."

Benedict chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, they won't bother us," he assured you. "They know I adore the art of nude portraits." His words sent a shiver down your spine.

"I love you."

You whispered the words as you gazed up into his eyes, your heart racing. You felt so exposed and vulnerable in this moment, but at the same time, so free.

He had always made you feel this way as if you were the most important person in the world.

As if there was nothing you couldn't do or be with him by your side.

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daydreaming-nerd · 1 year ago

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The Angel of Music (Azriel x Reader)

AN: guys this is always one of my emotional support movies/plays I’ve seen it a million times so it only seemed fair that I give it the ACOTAR collab it deserves.

Summary: It was the inner circles first time at the theater and from the way the Shadowsinger was blushing they all had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. (the reader plays Christine Daae in Velaris’ adaptation of The Phantom Of The Opera and Azriel falls in love with her, but he’s afraid that she won’t like him because of his scars because she choose Raoul in the play) Set between ACOWAR and AOFAS

Warnings: Angst because of Azriel’s scars, shy az, but so much fluff, (just a little Az brain rot, didn't take this too seriously)

Word Count: 3,070

It wasn’t the shadowsinger's usual scene. Bustling people dressed to the nines, plush red chairs, gold sconces, orchestras. But Cassian had been tirelessly trying to make Nesta smile, and Ferye wanted to try and get her sisters together, so here he sat in the box that Rhysand had purchased for the night.

Nesta loved the music and dancing, Elain loved the romance, and Feyre loved the costumes and color palettes of scenes. Cassian wanted to see Nesta smile, and Rhysand would do just about anything Feyre asked of him.

In all his 500 years of life, Azriel had never thought to go to the theater. When he was a child he heard of his parents going but of course, he never got to go. As he grew the idea of going to see a show simply never crossed his mind.

When the lights went down and the orchestra came to life he spent most of his time watching Cassian, who was watching a very intrigued Nesta. He stayed that way until a clap and a spark echoed throughout the room. At first, he thought there was danger, but as soon as he turned his attention towards the stage he saw the large chandelier raise itself to life bringing the dilapidated stage with it. Golds, reds, and vibrant colors filled the room.

Still, Azriel had trouble following the plot. But as he watched Nesta and her sisters become entranced by the music and dancing. The loud organ had stirred something in him, but he didn’t truly feel moved until her.

Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye…

Azriel was sitting in a box at the edge of the theater, but even from this distance, he could tell that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. He scooted to the edge of his seat a tad just to be that much closer to her. Her voice was that of a siren, no not a siren, an angel. His shadows danced around his ears and his wings at the sound of her ballad. Even the rest of the inner circle seemed to be entranced by her spell.

As the play went on he found himself becoming irrationally jealous of Raoul. The pretty Viscount had not given her a second look at the beginning of the play. It wasn’t until the organ sounded again that the sound of her voice graced Azriel’s ears. The woman walked through a mirror towards a masked man.

Who was this masked man? Where was he taking her? It wasn’t until Mor rested her hand to where he was gripping his chair with white knuckles that he remembered it was just a play. He sat back in his seat more, trying to tell his shadows to calm down. But as her voice climbed and climbed that beautiful crescendo they twisted and turned around him.

Azriel spent the rest of the play being utterly entranced by the beautiful singer’s relationship with the Phantom. The masked man was dark and radical, staying in the shadows where no one could see him. He observed her from afar. Much like the shadowsinger did himself in every aspect of his life.

It was clear to him that the Phantom was in love with Christine. So when Raoul and Christine kissed he nearly felt his heart shatter. The way the Phantom mourned, and cried, it felt all too personal to Azriel.

I gave you my music, made your way. And now how you’ve repaid me, denied me and betrayed me…

From there on out Azriel found himself rooting for the Phantom, the man he saw so much of himself in. He nearly shed a tear when he found out why the man wore a mask. A scared child in a cage made to perform.

He looked down at his mangled hands sitting on the arms of his chair. He had known a similar childhood and had suddenly wished he had something like a mask to cover such torn flesh. Maybe then the beautiful woman on stage might look at him with that same lovesick gaze, she wore now for Raoul, but he knew that could never be.

For a moment he felt joy, seeing her kiss the Phantom with such passion, such love. Only for that joy to be extinguished like a candle when she walks out with the Viscount. Of course, she would choose him, life does imitate art after all. It wasn’t until the curtain went down and the crowd erupted in thunderous applause that Azriel broke from his trance, standing to applause with them.

“Well that was wonderful,” Feyre beamed, linking her arm with Rhysand’s.

“I’ll say, that girl sang like an angel,” Mor gushed, fanning herself with her program as we all made our way out of the box. “Even Azriel seemed to enjoy it,” the female smirked, bumping Azriel with her shoulder. She had seen the lovesick gaze in his eyes.

“It was so romantic the way Raoul came to rescue her,” Elain swooned, grabbing her sister's other arm.

“Oh please, the Phantom was the obvious choice!” Nesta huffed at her sister's comment.

“Nesta, would you like to meet the cast? Maybe talk to some of the dancers?” Feyre asked, changing the subject quickly before conflict arose.

Nesta thought for a moment and spoke again, “Yes I would.” all she said.

Of course, it was an easy task for Rhys to sweet-talk his way backstage, the inner circle sticking out like a sore thumb as they weaved past props, costumes, and the ensemble. Azriel’s eyes stayed ever vigilant, unable to let go of years of training as they walked down a dark hall. A cast member opened a door at the end of the hall to reveal mirrors with glimmering faelights around them. Vanities with every manor of makeup and costume jewelry. Two men he recognized as the actors who played the Viscount and the Phantom.

The Phantom had washed off the makeup that made his face look scarred. Once again Azriel wished he too had that ability. Rhys and Feyre shook both their hands introducing them to the whole inner circle, but Azriel paid no mind. His hazel eyes were searching for a hint of her.

“Oh y/n there’s someone who wants to meet you!” called out one of the actors.

“Oh, really who?” called a voice so melodic Azriel just knew that she had to be an angel.

His shadows wisped around him frantically, calling out her name in his ear, like they were excited to finally know it. Rhys and Feyre’s eyes looked to their friend and smiled at one another.

She walked around from a changing screen, tying the strings of the robe she was wearing that looked similar to the one she had worn on stage. She nearly stopped in her tracks as she saw her High Lord and Lady staring at her.

“My Lord, My Lady,” she bows. “It is an honor.”

“No, no, please don’t bow,” Feyre rushes over, bringing the singer upright. “If anything we should be bowing to you. You sang like a goddess out there, you are truly talented.”

“Why thank you, my Lady, I’m truly happy you enjoyed the show,” she smiled and Azriel’s heart all but glowed.

“Please call me Feyre,” the High Lady smiles, extending her hand.

“Y/n,” the singer replied, taking her hand and shaking it.

Azriel kept to the sidelines as the inner circle conversed with the cast and crew. Feyre and Rhys praised the play director and claimed they would be purchasing their box for the rest of the season. Nesta picked the brains of the dancers and their instructor, Cassian listening dutifully behind her. Elain chatted up the Phantom and Raoul, both actors seemingly falling for her, once again showing how life imitates art.

Mor talked to y/n, about what? Azriel didn’t know. But the second Mor caught Az gazing at y/n she held out a hand to him.

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Azriel, spymaster for the night court,” Mor said, beckoning Azriel over.

Azriel quickly put his hands behind his back, not wanting to scare her with his scars. He could’ve sworn he saw her cheeks tint a shade pinker as he approached, looming over her in size.

“How do you do?” y/n asks.

It takes a second for Azriel to realize that her angelic voice is speaking to him.

“Oh um, very well thanks.” he stutters, already feeling like a fool. Gods she was even more beautiful up close, he found himself suddenly longing for the box that offered him sanctuary, or a mask like the Phantom had.

“Did you um, enjoy the show?” she probed and Azriel realized that Mor had conveniently dismissed herself.

“I did,” he said quickly. “You have a beautiful voice, I could’ve listened all night.”

Once again he swore he saw y/n blush as she looked down at her feet, “Thank you, though I think I fell flat a little in the first song. Opening night and all,” she laughed nervously and oh Cauldron, the sound of her laughter was enough to make Az take one step towards her.

“No it was perfect, all of it.” he spat out, not standing to hear her say one more bad thing about herself.

“Well thank you Azriel,” she said and by the fucking Cauldron she smiled at him. His name fell off her perfect lips and she smiled at him. He must’ve been dead and somehow gotten to heaven, there was no other explanation.

The rest of the inner circle watched the pair intently. Feyre sank further into Rhysand’s side as they both realized they were watching Azriel fall in love in real-time. The yin and yang of the pair was near poetic and Feyre told herself she would pain this exact moment tomorrow morning.

“Y/n why don’t you come to dinner with us? We would love to hear more about you,” Rhysand smiled.

His words broke the trance y/n was in, “Oh my Lord I truly wish I could, but I have an early day tomorrow and my apartment is clear across town.” She apologized.

“No worries, it sounds like we will all be back for tomorrow night's show as well. Though I would hate for you to walk home alone,” Rhys smirked trying to get Azriel to bite at the bait.

“Not to worry I make the trek all the time,” she smiled, picking up the many vases of flowers people had left for her on her vanity.

“Azriel could walk you home, couldn’t you Az?” Mor chimed in and Azriel shot her a look.

“Uh, yeah I could if you’d like,” Azriel mentioned stuttering over his words as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to take you from dinner with your family,” she assured him, picking up two large vases of flowers.

“Not at all, I would be honored to walk you home,” the shadowsinger said a little too quickly. Feyre tried to stifle her laugh in Rhys’ side, she had never seen her spymaster so flustered.

“Okay then,” the girl smiled and soon enough they were off down the cobblestone street, their way lit by dim faelight.

y/n’s pov:

“Your shadows are incredible,” I smile watching as the dark wisps carry the various vases of flowers down the road.

I had been more than happy to have the High Lord’s shadowsinger walk me home. In all honesty, I was captivated by the male the moment I set eyes on him. Sure he was hard, dressed in black, and over a foot taller than me.

A sane woman might’ve kept her distance from the male, he was dangerous after all. But I knew the moment he spoke that he wasn’t a threat. There was a quiet and gentle calm underneath all that darkness.

“Thank you,” he says and I swear I see him blush. “They seem to really like you.”

“They do? How can you tell?” I laugh as one of the little fellas brush against my cheek like a cat brushing against an ankle.

“They went wild when you were singing tonight,” he chuckles, seemingly remembering how they danced.

“Really?” I ask balking a bit.

“I’m serious, give it a try,” he smiles, motioning for me to sing again.

I shrug and clear my throat before singing a line from the play, “Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange angel,” I sang softly and sure enough the little shadows danced and swirled around me. Threading themselves through my hair and around my arms where they held my vases of flowers.

“That’s amazing,” I breathe finally watching the small wisps die down, hiding behind their master like they were shy.

“You’re amazing,” their master spits out and then blushes. ‘

I can’t help but feel myself blush too, shying away from the hulking Illyrian. He didn’t look so tough as his shadows carried dozens of flowers behind him. He had walked down the street with his hands behind his back the whole time, not needing to lift a finger.

The little purple door I’m so used to seeing comes into view. Outside the cottage are dozens and dozens of roses and the light inside is out.

“I leave these here,” I say gesturing to the flowers I’m holding as I set them on the front porch.

“Why not take them home? Were they not gifted to you?” Azriel cocks an eyebrow as his shadows place the flowers neatly next to the ones I set down.

I laugh starting back down the path towards my place, “I get so many, I can’t possibly keep them all. Marla is an elderly woman who lost her husband years ago. It brings her joy to have them, so I leave them for her. Besides it’s not like they’re from anyone special,” I shrug, subtly dropping the hint to Azriel that I’m not otherwise engaged.

Azriel pauses beside me and approaches a rose bush blooming near one of the cottages. Drawing his dagger, he carefully slices off a vibrant red rose. Before offering it to me, he painstakingly removes every thorn with the same blade, as if to protect my hands from even the slightest prick.

“You deserve to have at least one flower,” he says offering me the rose.

I blush and go to reach for it when I catch sight of his hand. The mangled and marred flesh. I can’t help but feel my breath hitch as I wonder who could’ve done such a thing to such a gentle soul. The scarred hand pulls back a bit as if realizing my staring.

“I guess I’m more Phantom than dashing Viscount,” he utters sadly, referring to my play and my role in it. My heart shatters as I see his broken expression.

“You know,” I smile, taking the rose from his scarred hands. “I always thought that Christine should end up with The Phantom, he was clearly the better choice.”

His head whips up as if I’ve uttered an inconceivable phrase. “Even though he had ugly scars?” Azriel inquires, his face tight like he might not want to hear whatever answer I provide.

“Who said he was ugly?” I laugh, did this beautiful specimen of a male truly believe he was ugly because his hands bore scars?

“So you would choose the Phantom?” he cocks an eyebrow as if trying to read if I was telling the truth.

“In a heartbeat,” I affirm confidently and honestly.

He takes a step towards me, his form getting even bigger, “and what about scarred hands? Is that a deal breaker?” he probes, holding out his hands so I can see that they both harbor similar markings.

I shake my head taking another step towards him, appreciating the beauty that is him. From the white scars that ran up his hands, to the shadows that danced around him like they they were whispering to him.

“So if I asked you to dinner after your show tomorrow?” he queries taking a step towards me as well.

“I would ask you where we are going?” I reply feeling my cheeks heat up. Was he asking me out? I tried to push the butterflies down in my stomach.

“Rita’s ?” he shrugs, stepping forward.

“Sounds like a plan,” I smile moving towards him more, like I was compelled to.

“I’ll swing backstage after the curtain closes,” he smiles, seemingly becoming more confident in himself as we step closer together just a few feet apart.

“I’ll put your name on the list,” I say, feeling his presence pull me in.

“And if I were to send you flowers? What kind would you like?” he interrogates further.

I think for a moment, no one had ever asked me what flowers I might like to receive. My eyes look around as if searching for inspiration until they land on a blue siphon adorning his chest that’s right in front of me.

“Something blue,” I blush knowing that when I see the cobalt flowers on my vanity I will know they are from him.

“Consider it done,” he smiles and I suddenly realize that we’re mere inches apart now.

I turn to my right where the blue door to my house beckons to be opened. Pulling out my keys I unlock it and use my shoulder to shove it open as it always gets stuck.

“Well,” I say shyly. “Thank you for walking me home,”

“Anytime,” he smiles looking down at his feet.

The sight of the bashful warrior on my front doorstep has me melting. His face is so beautiful and perfectly carved I can't help but lean up on my toes and kiss his cheek. I almost regret it when it’s over but the violent red of his cheeks makes me smile again.

“Well goodnight,” I say, trying not to let my words shake in the process.

“Goodnight,” he smiles, brushing a hand against his freshly kissed cheek.

I close the door and place the single, thornless, rose he cut for me in a vase. It isn’t until I turn on a light that I hear him take off into the night and I swear I hear him let out a grand whoop from way up in those clouds.

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader fluff #azriel #azriel spymaster #inner circle #acotar

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myebi · 5 months ago

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art vs artist 2024 ✨ can't believe we're here!

i've been thinking about this year a little bit these past few days, with the holidays being under special circumstances for me. the past month passed quickly but very gently, which I'm grateful for all things considered. i think it's now safe to say that after some reflecting 2024 was one of - if not the - best year of my life. I've never experienced such a whirlwind of gratifying experiences in the span of twelve months: i met so many new and nice people, had my first con experiences in amazing settings and my first job opportunities in a field i wanted an experience in for a long time, traveled the world somehow, got 10x more attached to my characters than i already was - and I'm quitting the year with just as many projects as i did when i entered it. granted, new problems came up and still persist, but with every year that passes i get one step to catching up with the anxiety and fears that hold me back, and it's that one step that each time allows me to surpass fear and welcome something new. every leap of faith partially led to the beautiful things i experienced throughout the year like a ripple effect (partially). it's gratifying and humbling in equal measure. so cool!!

art wise, i'm a lot more satisfied with the direction my art is taking than i used to be in the past two years. i came up with brush settings that shifted my line dynamic and i discovered a new rendering technique i really enjoy that allows me to balance time-efficient with textured together. i think my art has been getting a lot more expressive and while sometimes it makes me feel like I'm straying away from a more sanitized, thought through illustrative style, maybe it's worth it for the feelings to be conveyed the way i want them to. i haven't gotten to a point where i'm experimenting with my shapes, compositions and palettes in a way that shakes up my habits in a good way, but I'll get there.

I've also come to realize while making the meme that i actually have very few finalized personal works to show this year! i made most of my personal work posts on a time rush (they usually were made for specific days). I've been working on a set of drawings that required some tweaking and a few days to sketch properly, but the result is worth it, I'm so proud of them!! i wanted to get them out before the NY but it convinced me that rendering had to take its time as well, i don't always want to rush things nowadays. being on a time limit and taking all the time necessary are both good drawing exercises nonetheless.

lots of rambling, but i had lots of thoughts. I'm so grateful that some people are still in my life as we inch toward the new year. to my moulin squad, to my tol staw, to all the new friends i made this year, to my kitty, to my family. i love you like the world. and of course, to all the people who follow my work from up close or from afar, thank you so much. to know i bring a bit of inspiration, thought and color into your day has a lot more worth to me than you can imagine. thank you for manifesting your interest and your support whenever you do!! 🙏

i hope you all have safe and healthy holidays 💛 drive safely and tell your loved ones you love them. my thoughts are with Ukraine and the people of Palestine.

#art vs artist #art v artist #art vs artist 2024 #artvsartist2024 #french art #french artwork #french illustrator #french illustration #myeart #art summary #2024 art summary

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hyunjinsmuze · 10 days ago

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Forget Me, Gently

part 1 | part 2

warnings: one smut scene, mentions of memory loss

contains: ⛔️smut, a lot of fluff, angst, happy ending.

summary: you sent the letter, you don’t know why, but it wasn’t a mistake, in-fact it was the opposite because you fell again for him…

pairing: hyunjin x reader

words: 4.6k

The apartment was quieter than it had ever been. The kind of quiet that didn’t just fill the room—it pressed against his chest, seeped into his bones, and settled like dust in the corners of his mind. Hyunjin sat in front of his easel, paintbrush in hand, unmoving. The canvas stared back at him, blank and accusing.

It had been weeks since she left. Or maybe months. Time had become a blur, each day bleeding into the next, marked only by the rising and setting of the sun. He tried to keep track at first, marking the days on a calendar, but eventually, he stopped. What was the point?

He still painted. He had to. It was the only thing that made sense anymore. But every brushstroke felt hollow, every color muted. His art had always been an extension of his emotions, a reflection of his soul. Now, it was just...empty.

He reached for a tube of paint, fingers trembling slightly. The color was a deep, rich red the same shade as the tulips he used to bring her. He squeezed a small amount onto his palette, watching as it pooled like blood. The sight made his stomach churn.

He dipped his brush into the paint, hesitated, then brought it to the canvas. The first stroke was tentative, uncertain. But as he continued, the lines began to take shape, a curve of a cheek, the arch of an eyebrow, the gentle slope of a shoulder. He was painting her. Again.

He had painted her countless times before. In moments of joy, of passion, of quiet contentment. But this was different. This was a portrait of longing, of loss. He poured every ounce of his grief into the canvas, each stroke a silent plea for her return.

As the hours passed, the painting came to life. Her eyes, once vibrant and full of mischief, now held a distant sadness. Her lips, always quick to smile, were pressed into a thin line. It was her, but it wasn’t. It was the version of her that haunted his dreams, that lingered in the shadows of his mind.

He stepped back, surveying his work. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the floor. He felt a lump rise in his throat, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He let them fall, unashamed.

He missed her. God, he missed her. Every laugh, every touch, every whispered word. He missed the way she would curl up next to him on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched their favorite dramas. He missed the way she would hum softly as she cooked, filling the apartment with warmth and love. He missed the way she would look at him, eyes shining with affection.

He missed the way she made him feel, whole, understood, loved.

He sat down on the floor, back against the wall, and pulled his knees to his chest. The painting loomed above him, a silent testament to his heartache. He closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him.

He remembered the first time he saw her, sitting alone in a café, sketching in a worn notebook. He had been drawn to her immediately, captivated by the furrow of her brow, the way her tongue peeked out as she concentrated. He had approached her, heart pounding, and asked if he could draw her. She had looked up, startled, then smiled and nodded.

That was the beginning.

He remembered their first kiss, tentative and sweet. The way her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The way his heart had soared, knowing she felt the same way.

He remembered the night he told her he loved her, voice shaking with vulnerability. The way her eyes had filled with tears, her lips trembling as she whispered, "I love you too."

He remembered the accident. The blinding lights, the screech of tires, the sudden, jarring impact. The way everything had gone dark.

He remembered waking up in the hospital, pain radiating through his body. The panic that set in when he realized she wasn't there. The crushing weight of the nurse's words: "She's in a coma."

He remembered the days spent by her bedside, holding her hand, whispering stories and memories, hoping she could hear him. The way his heart had shattered when she finally opened her eyes and asked, "Who are you?"

He remembered the hope that had bloomed when she started to smile at him again, the way she laughed at his jokes, the way she leaned into his touch. He remembered the devastation when she left, without a word, without a goodbye.

He opened his eyes, the room now cloaked in darkness. The painting glowed faintly in the dim light, a ghostly reminder of what he had lost. He stood, legs unsteady, and approached the canvas. He reached out, fingers brushing against the dried paint.

"I miss you," he whispered. "Please come back."

The silence answered him, heavy and unyielding.

He turned away, moving to the window. The city stretched out before him, lights twinkling like stars. Somewhere out there, she was living her life, unaware of the hole she had left in his heart. He wondered if she ever thought of him, if she ever felt the same ache that consumed him.

He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, closing his eyes. He didn't know what the future held, didn't know if he would ever see her again. But he knew one thing for certain: he would never stop loving her.

He would wait, as long as it took.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It had been eighty-three days.

Eighty-three mornings waking up with a tightness in her chest she couldn’t name. A silence that lingered in the spaces where a voice used to be. His voice.

There were times she thought she was okay. She went through the motions—showered, ate, worked. Smiled when people smiled at her. Laughed at the appropriate times. She even bought herself tulips once, but they wilted too fast, as if the universe was reminding her: not everything you love stays.

But some nights, when the wind got quiet and her walls weren’t high enough, she’d remember his hand in hers. The gentle weight of his head on her shoulder. The steady thump of his heart beneath her palm.

She didn’t understand it. Didn’t know why her heart pulled toward someone she couldn’t even remember.

But it did.

She’d wake up gasping from dreams that didn’t make sense, candlelight and fingers tracing her spine, a boy with sorrowful eyes calling her angel, paintings, his laughter. Familiar. All of it so familiar it made her ache.

It was hyunjin, she knew it, it was the boy she walked away from.

Some mornings, she found herself reaching for a phone number she didn’t save. And it always ended the same: staring blankly at her reflection, wondering if she was going insane.

Then one afternoon, it just… broke.

It had rained all morning. The kind of rain that felt personal, like the sky was grieving with her. She’d made herself tea, sat by the window, and tried to read—but the pages blurred, her thoughts drowning in a name she barely remembered, a face she dearly missed.

Hyunjin.

She stood abruptly, heart racing, and rummaged through the box under her bed, the one she swore she wouldn’t open. Inside: photos she didn’t take, letters she didn’t write, drawings of her smiling, laughing. Loved.

In the very back was a sketch of her asleep on a blanket by a river, tulips in her hand, his jacket around her shoulders. His initials in the corner. H.J.

That was the moment.

The one where the guilt caught up with her, even if she didn’t fully understand it.

She was gone. Left. Disappeared from a life that loved her.

So she sat at her desk, hand trembling, and wrote the only thing she could.

The Letter:

Dear Hyunjin,

I’m sorry. I don’t know where else to begin.

I think I’ve been running because I’m scared. Because I still don’t remember everything, and the pieces I do have feel like they belong to someone else’s life. Someone better. Braver.

But I see you in all of them.

There are moments where I’ll catch myself smiling at nothing and I think—that smile used to belong to you. I don’t remember every memory, but I remember the way you make me feel.

Safe. Soft. Wanted.

I know it’s not fair. That I left without warning. That I gave you no choice, no closure.

But if there’s still space for me, even a small one… I want to try again.

I want to meet the boy my heart remembers even when my mind doesn’t.

I’ll be at the Hanok house for the next few days. You know the one. The tiny one near the river with the broken step and the red wind chime.

I hope you come.

– Y/N

She didn’t sleep that night.

Kept pacing the small wooden floor, biting her thumbnail, trying not to regret sending it. Maybe he moved on. Maybe he was happier now. Maybe she was selfish for even reaching out.

But when morning came and the sun spilled gold over the tatami mats, her chest didn’t feel quite as heavy.

She waited.

All day.

Until the sky started to turn soft and blue, and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

She didn’t expect him to come. Not really.

So when the knock sounded at the door, her body froze.

And when she opened it—and saw him standing there, hair damp from the rain, sketchbook under his arm, eyes full of disbelief and pain and hope—

She forgot how to breathe.

Hyunjin looked at her like she was both his home and the storm that took it away.

“Hi,” she whispered.

He didn’t speak.

Just stared, chest rising and falling in unsteady waves, as if her face was something he’d painted a thousand times but still didn’t dare believe was real.

Her throat tightened. “I didn’t know if you’d come.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to,” he said, voice low, like it hurt to speak.

“I did.”

“You left.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence. The wind carried the sound of birds somewhere in the distance.

“I didn’t remember everything,” she said, voice breaking. “But I remembered you. I remembered… feeling you.”

His jaw clenched. “Do you know what it did to me when I found that room empty? I waited. I hoped. I thought maybe you just needed air. That you’d come back.”

Her eyes filled. “I didn’t think I deserved to. I still don’t know if I do.”

“You were always enough,” he said quietly. “Even when you didn’t know me.”

Tears slipped down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “For everything.”

And for the first time in weeks, she saw it, the soft tremble of his lips, the way his eyes glossed over as he stepped forward and pulled her into his chest.

He held her like she was fragile. Like one wrong move and she’d disappear again. Like he hadn’t stopped missing her for a single goddamn second.

She clung to him, fingers gripping his shirt like she could stitch time back together.

And for a long while, they didn’t speak. Just breathed.

And that was enough.

They stood in silence, the weight of unspoken memories pressing down on them. Finally, she stepped aside, allowing him in.

The apartment was cozy, filled with soft light and the faint scent of vanilla. He noticed a canvas on the easel, colors blending in a way that stirred something deep within him.

"I've been painting," she said, following his gaze. "I don't know why, but it feels... right."

Hyunjin nodded, his throat tight. "You always loved to paint."

They sat on the couch, a careful distance between them. She studied him, her brow furrowed.

"I don't remember everything," she admitted. "But when as i was going through your stuff, something inside me stirred. Like a whisper of a dream I couldn't quite grasp."

He reached into his bag, pulling out a worn sketchbook. "I brought this. It's filled with drawings of you, of us. Maybe it can help."

She took it, fingers tracing the cover. Opening it, she gasped softly at the images within, moments captured in graphite and ink, each one a testament to their shared past.

Tears welled in her eyes. "I may not remember these moments, but they feel... familiar."

Hyunjin reached out, gently taking her hand. "We can create new memories. Together."

She looked up at him, a tentative smile forming. "I'd like that."

The evening unfolded gently, filled with shared stories and quiet laughter. As the night deepened, a sense of comfort settled between them, bridging the gap left by lost memories.

In that moment, amidst the soft glow of the room and the warmth of rekindled connection, they found solace in each other once more.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

He called the next day and she came.

They sat in the quiet of his apartment like it was a memory waiting to be rewritten.

Rain tapped softly against the windowpane, the kind of gentle drizzle that made everything feel slower, softer, closer. Hyunjin had lit a few candles like he used to, even though he hadn’t planned to, it just felt right. Like his body remembered what his mind was still trying to process.

She was here.

Sitting across from him, wearing his oversized hoodie, her knees drawn up on the couch. Her bare legs curled underneath her, hair damp from the walk over, cheeks still pink from the cold. It felt like déjà vu, except it wasn’t. Not really.

Because she didn’t remember the last time they sat like this. But he did.

He remembered everything.

Every soft inhale, every whispered “I love you,” every time her fingers would unconsciously reach for his under the blanket like it was instinct.

And she was starting to do it again—reaching for him. Trusting him. Wanting him.

That made it harder. That made it real.

“You used to light candles for me,” she said softly, voice almost drowned by the rain.

He blinked, meeting her eyes. “Yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “You always said it made everything feel like a movie.”

She returned the smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her fingers tugged at the sleeves of the hoodie, as if she didn’t know where to put all the nervous energy.

“It feels like I’m trying to fall in love with someone I already belong to,” she whispered.

Hyunjin’s heart stilled. His throat went dry. He wanted to tell her she did belong to him. That she always had. That there hadn’t been a single night where he hadn’t missed her like hell.

But he didn’t say any of that.

Instead, he stood slowly, walked toward her like he was approaching something sacred. Sat beside her without a word. Their knees brushed. Her breath hitched.

She looked up at him, wide-eyed and unsure. “Hyunjin…”

He leaned forward a little, his voice low, trembling. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. You can tell me to stop and I will. Always.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered.

He froze.

“I don’t know why,” she continued. “But every time I look at you, I feel… warm. Safe. My heart races and I get scared but not the kind of scared that tells you to run—more like the kind that says you’re standing right in front of something real.”

Hyunjin's eyes dropped to her lips. She looked soft everywhere, her expression, her body language, her whole presence. It reminded him of when they were first falling in love. Only this time, he was the only one who remembered.

He cupped her cheek gently, brushing his thumb beneath her eye. Her skin was warm under his fingertips, her breath shallow.

“I’ve missed you every day,” he said, voice barely audible. “You have no idea how much.”

She leaned into his touch like her body knew him even if her memories didn’t. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but instead, she kissed him.

It was soft. Gentle. Searching.

But then she sighed into his mouth, and something shifted.

Hyunjin deepened the kiss slowly, his hand cradling the back of her head like she was something breakable. She kissed him back with urgency, like she’d been waiting to breathe.

His other hand found her thigh, warm and bare beneath the hem of his hoodie. She gasped when his fingers slid higher, not quite touching her but close enough to make her squirm.

He pulled back slightly, forehead pressed to hers, panting. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want you.”

His chest ached.

“You don’t remember the first time,” he whispered, like it was a confession.

“No,” she said. “But this feels like the first time anyway.”

Hyunjin kissed her again, slower this time. Reverent.

Then he stood and offered his hand.

She took it.

He led her into the bedroom, lit only by candlelight. The scent of vanilla still lingered in the air like a ghost from their past. The same room where he had once asked her to be his.

She climbed onto the bed and sat on her knees while he stood in front of her, unsure where to start.

“I want to remember this,” she said softly, reaching for the hem of the hoodie and pulling it over her head, baring herself to him.

His breath caught in his throat.

She was so beautiful it hurt.

“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, dropping to his knees on the bed, kissing her collarbone. “I used to tell you that all the time.”

“Tell me again,” she whispered.

So he did. Over and over.

He undressed her slowly, hands soft, eyes locked with hers like he was asking for permission with every touch. When she was bare beneath him, he kissed down her chest, over her stomach, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

She trembled under his mouth, and he smiled against her skin.

“You always liked when I kissed you here,” he murmured, brushing his lips along the inside of her thigh. “And here…” He moved lower.

Her hands gripped the sheets, hips already twitching. “Please,” she gasped.

And Hyunjin—God—he gave her everything.

He knew what made her breath hitch, what made her legs shake, what made her cry out his name. He teased her slowly at first, savoring the way she came apart beneath him like he was unlocking a part of her that still remembered.

He sucked and licked at her clit, like he was starved, yet he didn’t let her finish, he wanted more, needed more.

He crawled up her body, kissing her cheeks, her jaw, her lips. She was trembling in his arms, legs still wrapped around his waist.

“I need you,” she whispered, pulling him down, nails dragging over his back. “I want to feel what it’s like to be yours.”

“you already are baby” he said kissing her four head.

He pressed into her slowly, watching her face the whole time. Her lips parted, a shaky breath slipping past them, and her brows knit together as her body stretched to take him in.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, then slid down to his waist like she needed to anchor herself to him. “Hyunjin,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut. “You feel so—so good…”

He groaned softly, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “God, you feel like home.”

Every inch of movement was deliberate, deep, slow, reverent. He knew her body like a map he’d studied in the dark for years, hands gliding over her waist, her hips, her thighs. She moved with him, hips tilting to meet each thrust like her body remembered the rhythm even if her mind didn’t.

He kissed her everywhere—her jaw, her lips, her shoulder, the hollow of her throat, his breath hot and uneven.

“I missed this,” he whispered against her skin. “I missed you.”

Her legs locked tighter around his hips, pulling him deeper. Her nails dragged down his back, not enough to hurt, just enough to say don’t stop, don’t go, don’t let this be a dream.

He shifted his angle slightly and she gasped, head tipping back, lips trembling.

“There?” he asked, voice low, wrecked.

She nodded, clutching the sheets. “Yes, please—Hyunjin—don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He kept his pace steady, rocking into that spot over and over until she was a mess beneath him, panting, clinging to him like he was her last tether to the world.

Her body was flushed, dewy with sweat, hair fanned out across the pillow. She looked ethereal, completely undone and utterly beautiful.

He watched her, chest aching, wondering how he got so lucky to have her in his arms again. To feel her falling, piece by piece, back into love with him.

She whimpered something close to his name, legs shaking around him.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, lips brushing her cheek. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

And she did, trembling, moaning, crying out his name like a prayer. He held her through it, one arm wrapped around her back, the other hand threading through her hair as she shattered in his arms.

When she came down, she was still gasping, her body soft and pliant beneath his.

But she didn’t let go.

She pulled him closer, kissed him deeper.

“I want to remember this,” she whispered again, voice broken with emotion. “I want you.”

His breath caught, chest tight. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

He thrust deeper, slower, hips rolling in long, dragging strokes that made her tremble all over again.

“I love you,” he said. “I never stopped. Not for a second.”

He felt her body tighten around him, another wave building, her nails digging into his arms. Her voice was high and breathless, a litany of whimpers and moans and half-formed pleas.

“Hyunjin—I—fuck—I’m—”

“I know,” he rasped, voice raw. “Come with me.”

He thrusted slow, every thrust deep and unhurried.

And then she did.

This time, she took him with her—crying out as they came together, tangled in each other, broken open and breathless.

He came soon after, buried deep inside her, whispering how much he loved her, how he’d never stopped. The weight of it hit him like a wave—every second of missing her, every night spent alone, every prayer he'd whispered into the dark.

He collapsed against her, burying his face in her neck, their hearts pounding in sync.

Afterward, he didn’t move.

He stayed inside her, breathing her in, kissing her softly until her breath evened out.

“I don’t remember the last time,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“I do,” he said. “And now we’ve got a new first.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

They didn’t talk much after that.

They didn’t need to.

She curled against him under the blankets, her body warm and tired, her fingers tracing slow lines over his chest.

He kissed her hair, humming softly like he used to, and she smiled against his skin.

“Stay,” he said quietly.

She looked up at him, eyes soft, lips swollen.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

And for the first time in forever, Hyunjin believed it.

She fell asleep in his arms that night.

Just like before.

Only this time, he held her tighter.

Because he knew how it felt to lose her.

And now he had her back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The Han River looked different now.

Maybe it was the way the light hit the water, or maybe it was the way she looked at it, like it was something sacred. Like it held answers.

Hyunjin watched her from the blanket they'd spread out, the same one they'd used countless times before. She sat cross-legged, a sketchpad in her lap, pencil poised but unmoving. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, where the sun dipped low, casting golden hues across the water.

He reached over, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She turned to him, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Do you remember this spot?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "Not exactly. But it feels... familiar."

Hyunjin's heart ached with a bittersweet kind of joy. "We used to come here all the time. You'd paint, and I'd sketch. We'd talk about everything and nothing."

She looked down at the blank page. "I wish I could remember."

He took her hand, intertwining their fingers. "It's okay. We can make new memories."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, the sketchpad forgotten. They sat in silence, the sounds of the city fading into the background.

After a while, she spoke. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."

Hyunjin turned to her, surprised. "Everything?"

She nodded. "I want to know it all. Every detail. I want to remember."

He took a deep breath, the memories flooding back. “We met at that little café on the corner. You were engrossed in a book, and I was too distracted to watch where I was going. I spilled your coffee, and you looked up at me with those eyes... I was captivated.”

She chuckled softly. “Sounds like something out of a movie.”

“It felt like one,” he replied. “I insisted on buying you another coffee, and we ended up talking for hours. You told me about your art, your dreams, and I asked if you'd paint me.”

She began to write, her pen moving swiftly across the page. “I want to remember all of this,” she said, her voice trembling. “I'm terrified the universe will take it from me again.”

Hyunjin reached out, gently placing his hand over hers. “We'll create new memories, ones that are ours alone.”

They sat in silence, the only sounds being the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. The sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow over them.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” she asked.

He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “The first time after we came here together, i was driving you home, i kissed you, you just looked so beautiful.”

She closed her eyes, trying to summon the memory. “I wish I could recall it.”

Hyunjin leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “It's okay. We have now.”

She looked up at him, eyes glistening. “I may not remember the beginning, but I want to be here until the end.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he pulled her into an embrace. “Me too,” he whispered.

They sat there, the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The city lights began to twinkle, reflecting off the water.

She picked up the sketchpad, flipping to a fresh page. "Draw me."

Hyunjin smiled, retrieving his pencil. "Always."

He began to sketch, capturing the curve of her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, the way the wind played with her hair. She watched him, her own pencil moving across the page.

When they finished, they exchanged sketchpads.

She gasped. "Hyunjin, this is beautiful."

He looked at her drawing—a perfect rendition of him, eyes filled with love. "Yours too."

she looked at him, for just a second, this time with nothing other then love, she had fallen again. she was inlove with him.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "I love you."

She looked up at him, eyes shining. "I love you too."

And in that moment, under the stars by the Han River, they began again.

@hwangjoanna @penguins-in-space @sammhisphere

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