Miyu Edelfelt | Fate/kaleid Liner Prismaillya

The soft glow of the afternoon sun, filtered through the delicate lace curtains of her private study, painted warm stripes across the polished mahogany desk. Miyu Edelfelt, her normally serene expression tinged with a subtle blush, traced the intricate patterns on a worn, leather-bound volume. The air in the room was thick with the scent of old paper and a faint, sweet perfume that clung to her skin, a fragrance she’d begun to associate with a particular, intoxicating closeness. She wasn't a student in the traditional sense, not anymore, but the quiet solitude of this library, a space gifted to her by… by someone special, offered a haven where she could reflect and, more recently, anticipate.

The hum of the city outside seemed distant, muted, as if the world itself had paused, holding its breath for the approaching twilight. Miyu’s fingers, usually so precise and deft in channeling magical energy, now trembled slightly as they brushed against the silk of her nightgown. It was a garment she’d chosen deliberately, a pale lavender that whispered of innocence but clung to her curves with a gentle, suggestive grace. She adjusted a stray strand of her silver hair, her mind replaying a recent conversation, a shared glance that had lingered far too long, a tentative touch that had sent shivers down her spine.

He was… he was unlike anyone she had ever known. Not just in his strength, his wisdom, or his quiet, unwavering dedication, but in the way he saw *her*. Not as a tool, not as a vessel for power, but as Miyu. He saw the girl who loved quiet afternoons, the girl who harbored dreams and anxieties, the girl who was, despite her extraordinary circumstances, still learning what it meant to be truly alive. And lately, she’d been learning so much from him, not just about the world or herself, but about the burgeoning desires that stirred within her, desires she’d never acknowledged before.

A soft knock at the study door made her heart leap. It was always a soft knock, never demanding, always respectful, but now it held a thrilling weight, a promise of something more. She smoothed her nightgown, her breath catching in her throat as she murmured, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, revealing him. He stood there for a moment, silhouetted against the dimmer light of the hallway, a figure of quiet strength and undeniable presence. His eyes, a deep, resonant shade that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages, met hers, and in that instant, the carefully constructed walls of her composure began to crumble. He wasn’t wearing his usual formal attire; instead, a simple, dark shirt that accentuated the broadness of his shoulders and the lean lines of his torso. He carried a small, intricately carved wooden box, his movements fluid and deliberate.

“Miyu,” he said, his voice a low, resonant rumble that vibrated through her very core. It wasn’t just a greeting; it was an acknowledgment, a caress. He stepped fully into the room, closing the door softly behind him, and the atmosphere immediately shifted, becoming charged with an unspoken tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Welcome,” she managed, her voice a little breathless. She stood, her knees feeling strangely weak, and walked towards him, drawn by an invisible thread. The scent of his presence, a subtle, clean aroma mixed with something undeniably masculine, filled her senses. It was a scent that had become deeply ingrained in her memory, a scent that evoked warmth and safety, and now, something far more primal.

He held out the wooden box. “I… I found this. I thought you might appreciate it.” His gaze held hers, searching, questioning, yet filled with a gentle understanding. Miyu’s fingers, still tingling, reached out to take the box. It was cool and smooth to the touch, and as she opened it, a soft, almost ethereal light emanated from within. Inside, nestled on a bed of dark velvet, lay a single, perfectly formed silver rose, its petals impossibly delicate, its stem entwined with tiny, shimmering dewdrops that seemed to catch and refract the fading sunlight.

“It’s… beautiful,” she whispered, her eyes widening. It was more than just a gift; it was a symbol, a tangible representation of his affection, his admiration, something he rarely expressed in words but conveyed with such profound sincerity through his actions. She looked up at him, her heart swelling with a complex mix of gratitude and burgeoning longing. “Thank you.”

He took a step closer, his gaze dropping to her lips. The air crackled with anticipation. “Miyu,” he repeated, his voice softer now, laced with a vulnerability she hadn’t heard before. He reached out, his calloused fingertips gently brushing against her cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Her skin felt incredibly sensitive, her breath hitched. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, savoring the exquisite sensation.

“I… I have wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. His thumb traced the curve of her jawline, then moved to her lower lip, a touch so feather-light it was almost more imagined than real. Miyu’s body responded with an instinctive, yearning ache. She parted her lips slightly, a silent invitation. The unspoken words hung heavy between them, a promise of unspoken desires finally finding their voice.

His gaze, now intense and hungry, roamed over her face, lingering on her eyes, her flushed cheeks, her slightly parted lips. He saw the longing reflected there, the mirror of his own burgeoning desire. He lowered his head slowly, deliberately, his gaze never breaking from hers. Miyu’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that echoed the pounding in her veins. This was new, this exquisite dance of anticipation, this intoxicating blend of tenderness and raw, unbridled need.

And then, his lips met hers. It wasn’t a forceful kiss, but a tentative exploration, a question asked and answered in the same breath. His lips were warm and firm, a stark contrast to the delicate softness of hers. Miyu responded with a sigh, her hands finding their way to his chest, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, anchoring herself to him as the world seemed to spin around them. The kiss deepened, the initial hesitation melting away into a tide of unspoken passion. Her senses exploded – the taste of him, the scent of him, the way his body molded against hers, the soft moan that escaped her lips as his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, closer.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the charged air. “Miyu,” he murmured again, his voice rough with emotion. His eyes were dark pools of desire, filled with a profound tenderness that made her feel cherished, adored. He looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, she felt it too – a deep, undeniable connection that transcended the physical, though the physical was undeniably intoxicating.

His hands moved from her face, one tracing the delicate curve of her collarbone, the other gently cupping her chin. He tilted her head back slightly, his gaze sweeping over her, a silent appreciation that made her skin prickle. He then lowered his head again, his lips finding the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear. Miyu arched into him, a soft gasp escaping her. The feel of his lips, the gentle pressure of his mouth, the subtle exploration of his tongue sent waves of exquisite sensation through her. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her entire body trembling with a pleasure she’d only ever dreamed of.

“You are… so beautiful,” he whispered against her skin, his voice sending shivers down her spine. His lips trailed lower, finding the pulse point at the base of her throat, tasting her. Miyu’s knees buckled slightly, and he instinctively tightened his hold on her, ensuring she wouldn’t fall. The delicate silk of her nightgown felt suddenly inadequate, a flimsy barrier against the rising tide of her desire. She wanted him to touch her, to feel her, to know the extent of her longing.

His hands moved to the front of her nightgown, his thumbs finding the delicate lace trim. With a slow, deliberate grace, he began to unbutton it, each soft click of the pearl buttons a tiny, intimate sound in the hushed room. Miyu watched his hands, her breath catching with every revealed inch of skin. The silk parted, revealing the soft swell of her breasts, the pale, creamy skin kissed by the afternoon sun. A soft sigh escaped her as the cool air met her exposed skin, followed by the even more intense warmth of his gaze.

He knelt before her, his eyes devouring the sight. Miyu felt a blush creep up her neck, but it was a blush of pleasure, of a deep, primal awakening. He gently cupped her breasts, his touch reverent yet possessive. His thumbs brushed against her nipples, which hardened instantly under his ministrations. Miyu moaned, her head falling back against his shoulder, her body swaying with an instinctive rhythm.

He lowered his head, his lips finding one of her hardening nipples. Miyu gasped, her fingers clenching in his hair. The sensation was utterly electrifying, a sweet, intense pleasure that radiated through her entire body. He suckled gently at first, then with a growing intensity, his tongue swirling and teasing, drawing a choked cry from her. She felt herself unraveling, the carefully constructed walls of her self-control dissolving under his expert ministrations. Her other breast was not neglected; his hand continued to caress and knead it, his thumb circling the sensitive peak while his other hand stroked her waist, his touch sending tremors of delight through her.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice ragged with desire. “Please…”

He looked up at her, his eyes blazing with a desire that mirrored her own. He rose to his feet, and with a gentle urgency, he lifted her into his arms. Miyu instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried her towards a plush chaise lounge positioned by the window, bathed in the deepening twilight. He laid her down carefully, the soft cushions yielding beneath her. He remained standing over her, his gaze a burning intensity, a silent question. Miyu reached out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her touch now bolder, more confident.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice a silken plea. Her eyes pleaded with him, her body thrummed with anticipation. He understood. He shed his shirt, revealing a sculpted torso, the muscles rippling with every movement. Miyu watched, mesmerized, the sight igniting a fire within her. He was so powerful, so perfect, and he was here, with her, wanting her.

He knelt beside the chaise, his hands finding the hem of her nightgown. With a single, smooth motion, he pulled it up, over her head, and tossed it aside, leaving her bare and exposed to his gaze. Miyu felt a flicker of vulnerability, but it was quickly eclipsed by the overwhelming sensation of his adoration. Her body, creamy and pale in the dim light, was now fully revealed to him. She was acutely aware of every curve, every sensitive point, and the intoxicating pleasure of his appreciation.

His gaze roamed over her, taking in every detail, from the delicate slope of her shoulders to the gentle curve of her hips, the soft swell of her belly, and the untouched haven between her thighs. He traced the line of her hipbone with a fingertip, his touch sending shivers across her skin. Miyu instinctively parted her legs slightly, a silent offering. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a burning desire, and then, slowly, deliberately, he began to descend.

His lips, warm and wet, found the soft skin of her inner thigh, sending a jolt of pure sensation through her. He moved with a breathtaking tenderness, his kisses growing bolder, more insistent, as he made his way towards the heart of her desire. Miyu arched her back, her fingers gripping the velvet of the chaise, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was entirely at his mercy, and she reveled in it. His tongue found her clit, and she cried out, her body convulsing. He continued his ministrations, his expert touch driving her to the brink of ecstasy, then pulling her back, only to send her soaring again.

“You are… exquisite,” he murmured against her, his voice muffled but deeply resonant. Miyu couldn’t form words, only sounds of pure, unadulterated pleasure. She felt herself on the precipice, her body humming with a raw, potent energy. Then, with a final, exquisite surge of pleasure, she climaxed, her entire body trembling, her mind a blissful void of sensation. She cried out his name, her voice lost in the soft fabric of the chaise.

He rose above her then, his own desire a palpable force. Miyu’s eyes fluttered open, finding his, filled with a deep, satisfied passion. He was magnificent, his body taut with anticipation, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that promised so much more. He gently ran a hand down her body, from her breasts to her thighs, his touch lingering, reawakening her senses. Miyu reached up, pulling him closer, her hands exploring the firm planes of his chest, the smooth expanse of his back. She wanted to feel him inside her, to merge with him completely.

He lowered himself onto the chaise beside her, and then, with a decisive movement, he entered her. Miyu gasped, a sharp intake of breath as their bodies joined. He filled her completely, his size and heat a glorious sensation that sent tremors of pleasure through her. He moved slowly at first, allowing her to adjust, his eyes never leaving hers, communicating a silent message of love and desire. Miyu instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him.

Their pace quickened, a powerful rhythm that echoed the beating of their hearts. The sounds of their bodies meeting, the soft moans and gasps, filled the room, a testament to their shared passion. Miyu cried out his name with each thrust, her body responding with an escalating urgency. He whispered words of adoration against her lips, against her skin, fueling her desire, deepening her pleasure. He drove into her with a controlled ferocity, his movements powerful and deliberate, each thrust sending her higher and higher.

She met his intensity with her own, her hips arching to meet his, her fingers digging into his shoulders. The world outside the study ceased to exist. There was only them, their bodies entwined, their souls connecting in a whirlwind of passion. Miyu felt a second climax building, a more powerful, all-consuming wave than the first. She clung to him, her body convulsing around him, as she surrendered to the exquisite release. Her cries were mingled with his deep, guttural groans as he, too, reached his own peak, his body shuddering as he thrust deep inside her one last time.

They lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The silence that followed was not awkward, but filled with a profound sense of peace and fulfillment. Miyu rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that now seemed to beat in sync with her own. He stroked her hair gently, his touch a soothing balm. She felt utterly content, utterly cherished, and deeply, irrevocably loved.

He kissed her forehead, a soft, lingering press. “Miyu,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I love you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, tears of pure happiness. She looked up at him, her heart overflowing. “I love you too,” she whispered, the words feeling more true, more real, than any she had ever spoken. The silver rose lay on the desk, a silent testament to the beauty of the moment, to the blossoming of their love, and to the promise of many more stolen afternoons, filled with whispered confessions and passionate embraces, in the quiet sanctuary of her study.