#the queen of nothing header
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evacrstairs · 5 months ago
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if she ran away, come back home, just come home...
the cruel prince (jurdan) headers. please, like or reblog if you save or use. 🗡️
art by @frostbitestudios
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maddiesflame · 7 months ago
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sabrina carpenter x judecardan layouts
like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame
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lausticzt-a · 3 months ago
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The most accurate image of Laura I can muster up to edit.
edit:
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fuck it we trying to edit these icons-
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norrisainz33 · 3 days ago
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Party time || ln4
☆ summary: y/n throws a end of season party party and the grid find out ln and y/n have been keeping a little secret
☆ pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader x platonic!grid
☆ fc & warnings: slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume
☆ requested: nope! this has been in my drafts for months
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynleclerc has made a post
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ynleclerc: waiting for everyone to get home from this triple header so we can celebrate like …..
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arthur_leclerc: i’m literally sitting next to you do i mean nothing
ynleclerc: uhh yeah you’re not alex or rebecca or carmen or lily or lily or kika or leo
arthur_leclerc: blocked
charlesleclerc: wow leo gets a mention and not me?
ynleclerc: oui
alexandrasaintmleux: leo and i miss you. we’re counting down the days 🤍
charlesleclerc: mon amour 😫 don’t encourage her
ynleclerc: f off charles! that’s my girl!
user1: the leclerc’s and their beauty needs to be studied
scuderiaferrari: you are always welcome to join us y/n 🤍
ynleclerc: merci admin 😘
user2: is the sun bothering you queen 🔫
landonorris: perhaps you should just come to abu dhabi?? ever think of that!
ynleclerc: omg no never thought of that once!!!
landonorris: y/n/n
user4: is it wrong to say i ship these 2
user3: y/n really said i’m bored pay attention to me and she’s so real for that
ynleclerc has posted to their private story
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logansargeant: who is on this private story?? need to know who is invited before i even consider showing up
ynleclerc: just abt the whole grid, my favorite girlies, kyle, patito, and bunch of my other friends - some you know !!
logansargeant: i’ll only go if kyle goes
yourbff: i can’t wait!!!!!!
ynleclerc: me either bestie i miss you
alexandrasaintmleux: i am so excited! i got the finishing touches for my outfit today 🤭
ynleclerc: yessss i can’t wait to see it!! you’re going to look stunning 🤩
alexandrasaintmleux: so are you gorgeous girl
charlesleclerc: Puis-je te convaincre de changer de tenue ? [can i convince you to change your outfit?]
ynleclerc: absolument pas [absolutely not]
charlesleclerc: mais mes collègues vont te voir et je ne peux pas les laisser avoir des idées [but my coworkers are going to see you and i can’t have them getting any ideas]
ynleclerc: tant pis pour toi 😘 [too bad for you]
landonorris: are costumes required for this party?
ynleclerc: no but wouldn’t be a problem because you’re already a clown?
landonorris: and ya know what i hate you
ynleclerc: no you do not muppet
georgerussell63: we’re all going to need this after the season 😫
ynleclerc: no doubt georgie especially bc you were stuck in that tractor
georgerussell63: 💀
iamrebeccad: carlos asked why he’s not on the invite and i said it’s because you love me more and now he’s pouting
ynleclerc: a big big baby he is
iamrebeccad: the biggest
charlesleclerc has added to their private story
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ynleclerc: you may as well have been!!
charlesleclerc: oh so you missed me?
ynleclerc: yes i don’t want to deal with arthur alone anymore
charlesleclerc: i knew it
carlossainz55: wow she didn’t show up to greet me like this???
charlesleclerc: you know the only reason she came to pick me up is because alex and leo were involved
landonorris: where tf was my invite
charlesleclerc: don’t think i don’t know about your little crush on my baby sister
landonorris: gonna have to have a chat w carlos huh
alexandrasaintmleux: my baby girl
charlesleclerc: yes yes you love her i know
arthur_leclerc: she’s so dramatic and for what
charlesleclerc: yes but she is our sister so we must be nice
arthur_leclerc: 🤓☝🏻
iamrebeccad: my two most favorite girls
carlossainz55 has posted to his private story
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ynleclerc: surprised you know what a grwm is
carlossainz55: i’m not that old hermana
charlesleclerc: how are you the favorite friend ?!
carlossainz55: my charm and overall superiority
charlesleclerc: 🙄
landonorris: sooooo carlos… you told charles about my thing for y/n??????????
carlossainz55: what? no i did not!
landonorris: but you’re the only one i told!!!!
carlossainz55: … i may have told rebecca and she may have told alex who may have told charles
landonorris: mate 😭😭😭
carlossainz55: i’m sorry
landonorris: do you think charles knows the full extent?
carlossainz55: rebecca doesn’t think he does
landonorris: great so i can at least keep some of my dignity 😔
alexandrasaintmleux: eeek so cute
arthur_leclerc: you forgot to actually mention that you’re on set up duty not grwm duty
ynleclerc has posted to their story
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user2: omg it’s annual end of year party time im so sat i hope the drivers are there and get messy
user3: bisexuality is truly a beautiful thing
alexandrasaintmleux: 😫 mon amour you are stunning
ynleclerc: i love youuuu
landonorris: i’m gonna miss you when i scroll……
ynleclerc: 🤭 good thing you get to see me in real life so no need for missing me
landonorris: so true y/n/n. see you soon 😉
yourbff: i’m foaming at the mouth
patriciooward: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
ynleclerc: so excited to see you patty
user16: god ur perfect
user22: screw your brothers, i want you
carlossainz55 has posted to his private story
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charlesleclerc: that little gremlin better not be with my sister
carlossainz55: 💀💀💀💀
arthur_leclerc: trying the insta story means he must have really disappeared
carlossainz55: i can’t find him anywhere in this house
yourbff: i can’t find y/n/n either
carlossainz55: charles is gonna have a fit
iamrebeccad: hehhe i think i found him
carlossainz55: oh mi amor where is he?
iamrebeccad: he is with y/n
carlossainz55: where?
iamrebeccad: you can’t get mad at him
carlossainz55: it’s not me you should be worried about
iamrebeccad: they snuck out to get pizza and go to lando’s
alexandrasaintmleux: i may have kept somethings from you and charles 😔
carlossainz55: alex what do you know
alexandrasaintmleux: y/n/n and lando have been seeing each other on the down low for a couple weeks now
carlossainz55: mi amiga 😫 you better butter up charles or his head is gonna explode when he finds this out
ynleclerc has posted to their story
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user2: Y/N THIS IS UR PUBLIC STORY
user3: screaming y/n what is this
charlesleclerc: y/n y/m/n leclerc - this is your public story. where are you both right now?
ynleclerc: OOPS!!!!!!!!
charlesleclerc: yeah oops for sure… where are you??
charlesleclerc: ma sœur stop leaving me on read
lilymhe: ARE YOU BOYH AT THE PIZZA SHOP RN HAHAAH
ynleclerc: Y E S!! i wanted pizza and lando was kind enough to take me
lilymhe: so is this like a thing now?
ynleclerc: i think so yes 🤭
lilymhe: omg you’re an evil, sinister, orange girl now 😭
ynleclerc: SCREAMING
user4: y/n it’s 3am what are you two doing rn
carmenmundt: baby what is this
ynleclerc: 😔 i tried to simp on private but messed up
carmenmundt: obsessed but also how is this how i found out??
ynleclerc: i tried to tell you at the dior show but got scared. this is all so new
carmenmundt: no need to be scared darling!! i am very good at keeping secrets but you let this cat out of the bag it seems
user7: omg are you guys together???
user8: drunken hard launch? girl i love you so much you’re my idol
user9: raw! next question
alexandrasaintmleux: hehehe tea
ynleclerc: is charles breathing still?
alexandrasaintmleux: oh don’t worry about your big brother. he’ll be fine. tell me about LANDO
ynleclerc: he is a dream alex 😭😭😭😭
ynleclerc: we made things official 🥹
alexandrasaintmleux: YESSSSSSS LETS GO ITS ABOUT TIME
user5: y/nlando truthers are UP rn
georgerussell63: laughing hysterically at this
ynleclerc: george shut up
georgerussell63: never
user6: guess your party is going well 😂😂😂
[this post has been deleted by user]
landonorris has posted to his private story
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carlossainz55: mate why won’t you respond to your texts
landonorris: i’m sorry im sorry got a bit caught up
carlossainz55: are you having fun?
landonorris: yes 🥹 we got pizza and she admitted she liked me a lot and wanted to make things official
carlossainz55: why didn’t you tell me you two had been hanging out for a while now???
landonorris: i didn’t want to 1) jinx it or 2) put you in an uncomfortable position with charles 😭
carlossainz55: gracias for thinking of me but i’m always here for you cabron
charlesleclerc: no funny business lando or i’ll run you off the road
landonorris: wouldn’t dream of any funny business charles
lilymhe: i hope yall remember this in the morning 💀
landonorris: actually ☝🏻 we are basically sober
oscarpiastri: you stealing the host of the party to take her to get pizza then to your house is crazy work mate
landonorris: i didn’t steal her 😭
oscarpiastri: then why she not at her own party bro
landonorris: bc she wanted pizza
oscsrpiastri: yea so you stole her
landonorris: 😔
maxfewtrell: get that girl 😤
landonorris: i did mate 🤩
danielriccardo: and who is this?
landonorris: y/n leclerc
danielriccardo: a leclerc?!
landonorris: the leclerc yes
danielriccardo: good job kid
ynleclerc has made a post
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liked by charlesleclerc, carmenmundt, landonorris, maxfewtrell, alexandrasaintmleux, and 644,927 others
ynleclerc: happy new year from me and mine 🥂✨
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iamrebeccad: stunning 😭
user14: don’t think we don’t recognize those curls on the last slide y/n
georgerussell63: i’m still laughing btw
ynleclerc: and what if i said i hate you
georgerussell63: i’d know you were lying 😘
user23: y/n, alex, rebecca and carmen doing everything together is so important to me you don’t understand
charlesleclerc: wow i made the cut?
ynleclerc: *leo made the cut
charlesleclerc: a brother can dream huh
user45: i love how we are swiftly moving on from that story and back to our regular programming 😭
landonorris: yours you say?
ynuser: perhaps 🫣
alexandrasaintmleux: tea
user47: how am i supposed to be normal about this
user81: don’t edge us omg
landonorris has posted a story
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charlesleclerc: please don’t post things like this with my sister
landonorris: i have to show her off charles. she’s too pretty to not be posted 🥹
charlesleclerc: you got me there but i don’t like it mate
landonorris: i’ll treat her right - i promise
oscarpiastri: i’m so glad i don’t have to hear you cry about her anymore 🧡
landonorris: you’ll still hear me crying osc dw
user4: HARD LAUNCH CITY
ynleclerc: you’re so cute im obsessed with you
landonorris: i am the luckiest man on earth
ynleclerc: lando 😭😭
user10: you calling her a gift is sickeningly cute
alexandrasaintmleux: be good to my girl ok? leo and i both will kill you if you hurt her
landonorris: i will! i promise! she is everything i have ever wanted and more and im not going to give that up any time soon
alexandrasaintmleux: music to my ears 🤍
user87: BOTH! i want you BOTH
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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skythealmighty · 3 months ago
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man. there are so many object shows out there. I NEED TO CATCH UP ON SO MANY why are the4e so many anyway Exclamation Mark (NOT AB) im killing you. he would get bullied off tumblr
#rocket talk #roc save #NOT THE ANIMATIC BATTLE ONE that ones fine #i mean the one in my header #hes an asshole #why do i keep accidentally hitting the number keys lately
(7 notes)
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📉 storyboard-but-better Follow
i cant believe my contestants are so pissy over the second challenge still!!!! it was a coherent challenge i think "survive me killing you" is pretty straightforward!!! besides theyre fine now >:/
⏰ timeisatool Follow
Maybe it's becausw you killed them?
📉 storyboard-but-better Follow
well thats stupid
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
I KNOW RIGHT!! my old contestants got SO pissy when i killed th3m!! just because theres no recovery... 😒
⏰ timeisatool Follow
You dont have recovery????
⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow
arent u supposed to be dead
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
well im NOT so
❗ black-and-red Follow
Ugh, I haven't even killed anyone that much and they're still pissy! Honestly... just do the challenges and you'll be fine! I only threatened them..
⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow
well i thought i killed circle but ig not! and square but nobody else died idk why everuones so afraid of me... whats so wrong w wanting to make a perfect object show?
⏰ timeisatool Follow
Um
🔥 betterheatsflamesman Follow
yeah theres nothing wrong with that! you gotta do what you gotta do for your object show
⏰ timeisatool Follow
😰😰😰😰😰
⏰ timeisatool Follow
I want to leave this group...
#i thought we were all just supposed to be wacky and weird 😰😰 #mom come pick me up im scared...
(34 notes)
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🔥🔃 betterheatsflamesman Follow reblogged 🪔 slay-style-queen
🪔 slay-style-queen Follow
Hey guys, just managed to get sponsored with my object show idea!!! (No thanks to you Lip Stick lol) wish me luck!! Also go keep an eye out on Village of Objects Official :D
🪔 slay-style-queen Follow
what the FUCK
🪔 slay-style-queen Follow
oh my god how do you all stay sane actually
4️⃣ four-therecord Follow
we don't! welcome to the club
🪔 slay-style-queen Follow
im never doing this again
#:)
(4,294 notes)
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📻 annie-annie-ooh Follow
Who's Animatic?
#It's Your Fridge DJ! #I appreciate all the lovemail and the concern! ❤ #I don't understand some of the asks but thank you anyway!
(725 notes)
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🧪🔃 test-tubular Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features
🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow
Have YOU heard of:
🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow
Please stop debating on whether or not this "counts" as an object show, this was requested by an anon. If you want to do that on your own time on your own blog, feel free!
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
SORRY ABOUT THAT SJEHSKEB will move i promise 🙏
anyWAY on another note i miss this showww 😭 i was so intrigued about it but i guess i understand its cancellation... if anyone wants to come up with a rewrite w me hmu my ao3 is in my desc!!!!
⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow
just as long as you clarify its unofficial!! (:
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
its on ao3 ofc its unofficial
💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow
WAIT A GODDAMN SECON
#Fan we were /on/ an object show and technically famous I'm not sure why you're surprised at this point #Also get off your phone we're at Purgatory Mansion
(11,374 notes)
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anonymous asked: hey greeny can you say trans rights for everyone out there
🟢 greenyguy Follow
trans rights AND trans wrongs. even if you like burger king i still support you <3
#burger king sucks ass tho dont do that to urself
(34,193 notes)
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💥 fans-fantastic-features asked: im SO sorry for the sudden reply earlier, up until your post i thought hfjone was just some weird wild experimental show?? then again i shouldnt be surprised if happy star themselves is on this goddamn site (also sorry in advance for my friend TT sending you asks about alternate universes. shes a science nerd of all types and needs data or sm) if you want i can tell you what i know about your situation in a private chat, ive done a lot of deep dive analysis posts on my blog too and trust me when i say a LOT of the internet wants to help free you and everyone else you have plenty of help available spotty replies tho im investigating smth
🎒 liam-plecak Follow
I... yeah, I'd like that. Thanks.
(34 notes)
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anonymous asked: battery ui is kind of already jailed but still
🔒 your-fav-would-be-jailed Follow
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Battery from Ultimate Insanity would be jailed!
🔋 theft-and-battery Follow
Yeah
#Why did someone earlier send in that Walkie Talkie person? #I approve of the Blender submission though #Hate that guy
(12 notes)
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🎒🔃 liam-plecak Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features
🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow
cant have shit in this fuckass hotel 😒😒😒 lens just died 😔😔
🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow
#WHAT THE FUCK #DONT JUST DROP SMTH LIKE THAT AND DIP #ARE YOU OKAY?? #ARE YOU TALKING ABT A GAME???
hi! rhanks for the concern! 😁 i am unfortunately not talking about a game lens is actually dead please help me (dms r open 🙏🙏)
#Since I've gotten a lot of followers recently I feel like I should boost this #I'm busy with my own issues but maybe someone else can help?
(5,204 notes)
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⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
i want my SHOW BACK i want my CO HOSTS BACK i want calculatory DEAD i only MILDLY HATE happy star i dont KNOW WHAT ELSE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT
🥝 gela-not-jelly Follow
🫵 Fanny kinnie
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
who the FUCK is fanny
#im CIRCLE not a goddamn FAN #who even names themselves fanny anyway
(382 notes)
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⚪battleforcircle asked: oml spiderman pointing meme
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
you sent me this FIFTEEN TIMES get OUT of my ASKBOX!!!!
📉 storyboard-but-better Follow
why are there two of you...
⚪ fuckingcircles Follow
theres only ONE of me i dont know who this IS!!
⚪battleforcircle Follow
theres three of us just three of us
#idk why either tbh #tumblr just recommended his acc to me one day #he seems fun to annoy tho so ive taken it upon myself to do so #tee hee
(89 notes)
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📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow
Hey so why is a known criminal on Tumblr?
📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow
Hello???
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navybrat817 · 5 months ago
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Bucky Barnes Masterlist - 2
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Welcome to my 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Here you will find some of my darker fics. These may include triggers such as noncon, dubcon, violence, dark themes, etc. Please heed the warnings. Header and banner by @sgt-seabass​ and dividers by @firefly-graphics​. Check them out! ​
Main Masterlist | 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist
I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.
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🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves
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Mini-Series and Universes
Soldat and Sparrow Universe (Ongoing)
Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you’ll be free. Both of you.
Winter and Fire  🔥💙
Summary: You didn’t choose to be with Hydra. Neither did the Winter Soldier. 
War and Peace 🔥
Summary: Your first mission together brings inner war...peace.
Soldat and Sparrow  
Summary: No one touches his Sparrow.
Night and Day  🔥
Summary: Will you be another one of the Soldat’s lost memories?
Dark and Light
Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.
Black and White
Moon and Sun
Past and Future
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The Pakhan and the Printsessa - Mob Newlyweds Universe (Ongoing) 💞
You’re married to Bucky Barnes, one of the most powerful men in the world. And all he wants is you.
Harmonious  🔥
Summary: You may think you’re a pawn in Bucky’s life, but you are his queen.
Hollow  🔥
Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.
Husband and Wife  🔥💙
Summary: Bucky has to have you before you get to your wedding reception.
Honeymoon Suite 🔥
Summary: Bucky takes a call during your honeymoon, but you should know that you always come first.
Home Again  🔥
Summary: Your husband opens up to you about his past as you fall more in love.
Honesty and Lies
Honor and Obey
Hope, Faith and Love
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Vampire Mob AU (Ongoing)
Power and money mean nothing to the powerful vampire ruler if you’re aren’t by his side.
Around Your Throat  🔥
Summary:  Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat.
Lay Me Down  🔥💙
Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human.
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Disturbia - Dark Suburbia AU
You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?
A Plum a Day  🔥🛑
Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there.
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Winter and Kisa - Mob AU 💞
The mobster doesn't care that you're an agent. He wants you to be his.
Give Me a Name
Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.
Almost Like Home
Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.
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Dark Club AU (Tagged as Turn It Up AU)
Hold You Tight  🔥🛑💞
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
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There's Something in the Water - Coming Soon
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One Shots and Imagines (over 1k) *Some fics may get additional parts
Run Like Hell  🔥🛑
Summary:  You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though…and you’re not getting away from him that easily.
First and Last  🔥🛑 💞 (a/b/o)💙
Summary:  Masquerading as Beta was an easy choice. Too bad Bucky Barnes had other plans for you.
You’re My Obsession  🔥🛑💙
Summary: You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve.
Best Man 🛑
Summary: Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier.
Remind Me  🔥💙
Summary: The apocalyptic world is crumbling around you and you need a reminder of who you belong to.
Push and Pull  (features Nick Fowler x Reader)🔥🛑💙💞 (Club)
Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.
Prized Possession  🔥🛑 💞 (Librarian)
Summary: You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession.
A Debt to Pay  🔥💙💞 (Mob)
Summary: Bucky isn’t a man to be crossed.
What Goes Around  🔥💙 💞 (DBF/BFD)
Summary:  Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.
Send Me an Angel  🔥🛑 💞 (Bartender)
Summary: Bucky thinks you’re an angel.
Follow You Home (Stalker)
Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.
Two Sides of the Same Coin🔥 (Bucky and the Winter Soldier)
Summary: A night of passion awakens something beneath the surface of the man you love.
What Happens in Vegas  🔥🛑 💞 (Fae)
Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas.
Within You  🔥🛑
Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.
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Ficlets (under 1k)
Read Between the Lines ~ (threat not by Bucky) 
Summary: Things are left unsaid with Bucky during your recent mission.
Loyalty  🔥 (features Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)  
Summary: Loyalty is something you’ve learned to both loathe and appreciate.
Collateral Damage  🔥🛑
Summary: You pay the price when the Avengers try to undo the snap.
Long Night
Summary: Bucky is waiting for you when you come back from a night out.
A Hero’s Reward  🔥 🛑
Summary: Bucky is a hero and every hero deserves a reward.
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100 Word Drabbles
Secret Admirer Secret Admirer - Part 2 Secret Admirer - Part 3 Secret Admirer - Part 4 Forced Bond 🔥🛑 Last Call  🔥🛑 His Sparrow  🔥🛑 Stalked
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vagabond-umlaut · 10 months ago
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hey, where is the pomegranate tree?
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unstoppable force, aka kore, aka gojo, meets immovable object, aka hades, aka you— nothing can ever go wrong from this collision, trust me— n-o-t-h-i-n-g.
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▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; hades and persephone retelling [with a twist ;))]; 1.2k wc; stubbornly persuasive gojo; the reader is js so tired and annoyed [and tired]; enemies to lovers vibes[??]; talks of marriage and children; gojo thinks you are a fool, he is the real clown here
▸ pls don't glare at me if there is more than one inaccuracy here, haha. anyways, the header is from pinterest, the divider is by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
▸ update: this fic is now part of a series!!! wreaths of asphodel 😊😊
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"you shall spend the rest of your days in tears."
you're foolish; woefully so, gojo thinks, carefully observing you from his place on the chaise lounge, smiling while you continue seething, "and there will be no one who can save you. neither a hero nor a god. neither demeter nor zeus. no. one."
"but why do you think i will need saving, my rose?" the endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, the taste sweetening at the way your pretty lips dip into a deeper frown, "you're not a monster, are you?"
"no!" the defensive reply comes in less than a beat. though the words following it sound a tad less bold; it seems as if you're trying to make yourself believe and not scare him.
"i'm someone far fiercer— hades. the goddess of the dead. the queen of the underworld— and the cause for your misery should you choose to vex me any further."
"aw, no," gojo cries, decidedly making a show by slapping a hand over his eyes and faking a sniffle, "why must the only woman i want as my wife see me as an annoyance?"
then lets his hand drop down to the cushion, willing his eyes to well over with pitiful moisture. "as the god of life, i've only ever given and given– be it grains or fruits or vegetables or flowers– without asking anything in return— yet the first and only time i ask..."
he doesn't bother finishing his sentence, choosing to sob to add to the tragic atmosphere— though that doesn't mean he doesn't note the war of emotions on your face:
pity, confusion, anger, again confusion— you're so easy to read, to steer. very foolish, really.
"you'll not like living here," you eventually break the silence hanging within the room. your voice is much softer now; the god wonders if you sing. if you do, the muses will certainly be put to shame... "your days will be spent in utter boredom and gloom and tears–"
"– and no one can come to my aid then: yes, thank you," he interrupts you, more than a little tired, "you've driven the points too well into my head– so much so that i'm surprised there isn't a gaping hole in there, oozing blood and my brains. but why must you think i'll need rescue, huh??"
if a smidge of force escapes into his words, gojo decides not to pay it any mind— though only until he notices the small flinch you give– his insides twist and torment, quite inexplicably, thereafter.
"okay, look," he says, getting up from his slouch to move near you, but stops on catching the warning glint in your eyes.
"first of all, i'm not some damsel in distress being whisked away in a chariot here– i came here by own volition. and i'm offering my mind, body, heart, soul– the special package that i am, in fewer words– to you, by my own volition. why shall i want anyone to rescue me then?"
"besides," he proceeds to add, allowing an easy smirk to form on his face, "you're just the cute little goddess of the dead– not at all scary like your brother used to be; though i guess you try to imitate him in your glares, don't you? sukuna was quite notori—"
"don't you dare utter my brother's name, foul olympian," a quiet growl slashes gojo's comment, sending it plummetting to the ground— and making him understand why you, the inconspicuous, sheltered sister of the vicious former holder of the name 'hades', was given the crown, in the aftermath of your brother's banishment– instead of the several more well-known candidates...
"i apologise," gojo offers in the very next instant, making it as genuine as he can, "i never meant to upset or offend you. i'm sorry if i did."
you just stare at him for a beat, gojo watches, before your shoulders lift then fall in a sigh. the fire burning in your aura abates by a pinch.
sighing once more, you finally break your silence, "It's okay, and um– suppose i too should apologise. you might be an olympian but you're not as foul as them, no. please forgive me for calling you so."
"no problem, my rose," the god is quick to accept your words with a wave of his hand and a beam, further widening when he notices the sliver of smile on your countenance, "but does this mean i appeal to your tastes? i mean, you called me 'not as foul as them', didn't you?? did you just accept my hand in marriage, then???"
"no, i didn't..." your subtle smile disappears swifter than it appeared. a half of gojo's floral crown, quite inexplicably, wilts on the table before. he watches your eyes fall to it, then snap up to meet his.
"do you love me?"
not yet, but he thinks he can. you might be an idiot but you certainly aren't an unlovable idiot— and one voice in his mind murmurs, those precious, innocent looks of yours aren't even the main reasons why...
the god shoots back a languid smile. "if you want to see me in love with you, so be it."
"that's neither 'yes' nor 'no'," you point out, frowning, before vaulting your second query of the evening, "if we get married, do you want to have children?"
it won't be very unfavourable, if you both do... with the vivid colour of your eyes, or the adorable shape of your nose, or the radiance of your skin, or the— "if you want, i shall be happy to assist," he ekes out with a meaningful wink, albeit he doubts how much of it reaches you.
you're very foolish, after all... and no– it's not because of the awkward way he says it– no! not in the slightest! he wasn't fumbling at all!
you wrap the shawl tighter around your shoulders but don't move any further away, gojo notes. the same way he does the slight tint in your cheeks when you roll your eyes with a scoff.
"you're unbelievable, kore. truly, terribly unbelievable." you press the pads of your thumbs over your forehead before releasing it, gaze an unprecedented mark of sharp when it settles on his face.
"is there nothing you want from our union, eh? i refuse to believe you wish to marry me without any demands, as if on a mere whim– but if it is so, i ought to warn you, kore: my answer is and will always be one firm 'no'."
your words mustn't ignite this odd restlessness in him. they certainly mustn't— still, gojo finds his chest tight and the air heavy as he grins back and says, "i only want to be your husband, your majesty... but if that is too much for you right now–"
the stretch on his lips simmers down to something smaller. yet truer.
"i want you to call me by my name. my real name. can you do that, my rose?"
you don't say anything in response for a long while. so long, in fact, it makes the god wonder if you are ever going to reply to his request.
perhaps not, he thinks quite a bit down-spirited when you suddenly turn on your heel and with a swish of your long shawl, stride out the rooms– o-oh.
you stop just as abruptly at the threshold. a complicated grin shining on your face as you twist to look at him over your shoulder then say:
"good night, gojo satoru. pray the ghosts prowling these halls don't eat you up ere dawn."
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you're gone not even few feet away from the door, before gojo falls face-first into the bed, the entire room suddenly erupting into thousands of roses in all colors ever seen. [lolol, he is such a loser for you! xD]
▸ masterlist
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robin-evry · 2 months ago
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Dr. Ratio! Yuu is going to be NRC's students' worst nightmare, that's for sure.
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 🦉📜
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Member of the Intelligentsia Guild. Eccentric temperament, sharp-tongued but with an elegant demeanor. The face under the strange plaster head sculpture is apparently unexpectedly handsome.
( artist of the header : pogogu )
( credit for the dividers : @cafekitsune )
Ew, is there first reaction towards the school and why are all the students wearing such ridiculous outfits It's a school not an accult, and is this Weezer saying about being great magician all they see is nothing but a cat indulging themselves about being great but they themselves see no greatness Infront of them just an overconfident little cat.
NRC number one student, the subjects are so easy for them to the point they have already suppressed most of their seniors, demand Crowley to allow them to become an official lecturer in NRC as well allowed to host after school lectures in their dorm room for students.
Become the scariest figure in all of NRC as well an unofficial new headmaster in NRC , no student is brave enough to up against them not even the teachers ( Crowley is sobbing ), Dr ratio!Yuu is strict and will not allow any slip up. They are the reason why the school held such a dignified reputation.
Even when students complain to Crowley he's not brave enough to go against because he doesn't want to suffer another lecture of his imperfect ways of teaching, he's ego has already been shattered by them, he doesn't need to be more broken
The ramshackle will be a place of where dr ratio!Yuu live as well a place where students have to go for their after school lectures or second school, the dorm has become larger as well possessing some Greek architecture around it in the front of the dorm or the official of the dorm is an owl similar to Dr ratio owl in his arms. The first floor has become a larger lecture to fit in students where there's a large stage in the middle where dr ratio!yuu stands and teaches, and if anyone is caught sleeping they will have a chalk hit them in the head to wake them up or will be hit by a book in the head. No slacking off on their watch.
The second floor is their living quarters. Dr ratio!yuu room is strictly forbidden to enter, their room is full of multiple sculptures of themselves as well a luxurious bathroom with multiple rubber ducks and bath tub in the middle where dr ratio!yuu meditate
During the Octavinelle arc, the first years didn't make a contract with Azul, why would they when they have Dr ration there teaching them. They even managed to make it in the top 50 in the board, all thanks to Dr ratio!yuu teachings.
Wears a head plaster to cover their face so people cannot get distracted by how handsome and beautiful they are, rarely take it off and if they do not wear it many students that have seen their face are unable to take their eyes off them, they are also described to be more goodlooking than vil or anyone in twst.
Has helped twst on new technological advancement in the century and gained large popularity, as well as a fanclub. Many students and others outside the school admired them and had a crush on them.
During one time when a group of savanaclaw students tried to show their dominance, one of them was thrown right across the room to the point it caused the others to back away and admit defeat, as I said no one is brave enough to go against them.
Another situation with the dorm leader riddles saying that their way is a disrespect to the queen of hearts, and Dr ratio!yuu point out their flaws of the queen of hearts and riddles ways.
Dr ratio!yuu : you said that the queen of hearts, was a ruler that upholds rules, but all I see is a tyrant who punishes the common folk for matters that are so small.
Riddle : HOW DARE YOU-
Dr ratio!yuu : and by far I'm seeing the exact same thing about you and the ruler, a child that holds the title of monarch but not the grace or qualities of a monarch. Tell me, are you even worthy of carrying the title of dorm leader similar to the queen of hearts worthy of calling themselves a ruler.
Riddle : i-
Dr ratio : I have met by far many people in my lines of work and by far they have more worth of being called a monarch than you....
Dr ratio!Yuu walk away leaving a stunt riddle behind.
By far that day riddle have an emotional scar, the words that the doctor has said to them have left a mark towards him. Riddle's mother soon learns about this situation and asks for Dr ratio!yuu explosion and even Crowley was afraid to face them, and when riddle mother confronts them, she also suffers from their harsh words of criticism and flaws, soon she even backs away from them.
Dr ratio may seem heartless but they do care about people, they want people to grow and unleash their full potential that's the reason why they are so strict with people.
During their first meeting with Jamil and kalim, during kalim being busy with something. Dr ratio!yuu ask why is kalim the dorm leader they said that Jamil is more worthy of being called dorm leader. This comment stunt Jamil. They said that Jamil is by far less careless and more appropriate to be a dorm leader.
Has respect for vil, Dr ratio!yuu respect vil for carrying him in high standards seeing them similar, together won't settle for less, vil pursuit of furthering peoples Beauty while Dr ratio!yuu is on a pursuit of furthering peoples intelligence and have high expectations for others and will always push others to their limit to reach potential. Saying that by far vil is already worthy of calling himself the most beautiful person as well a person worthy of a dorm leader.
I also like to imagine Dr ratio!yuu is what epel dream physic would be, being able to take down multiple students with ease as well smart and sharp. Epel wanted to ask them to train him but he's also scared to ask them but after enough courage he did ask them and they agreed, every know and then epel will be tutored by them in physical and academic requirements, vil approved and epel grades and physics have enhanced greatly.
Dr ratio!Yuu is an unstoppable force, they always tell the truth even tho it hurts people because if the people are unable to face the truth and how are they gonna grow.
By far after their appearance the standards of grades have risen 100%, there are no students that are being held back as well the standard of high grades started to rise thanks to Dr ratio!yuu after school lectures, and the staff personally thank them for giving students to have a back bone, they are by far a better headmaster than Crowley.
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hyukalyptus · 4 months ago
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the willow tree — prince!yeonjun x servant!oc (mira)
cw. brief mention of the death of a grandparent, chubby!reader (rarely self conscious), exes to ???, unsupportive parents, dual POV, classism, mira is described as chubby and has long wavy hair, mira often wears dresses/thongs/etc, smut, sir kink, sneakin around, pet names (darling, babe, baby, love, my girl), lots of cunnilingus/bjs/handjobs, more specific content warnings before each chapter, NSFW/MDNI!!! notes. this has taken me forever!! i know i've been talking about this for so long and i really hope you love it. the poll said to post everything at once, but i put chapter headers so you wouldn't lose your place since its so goddamn long. anyway, enjoy!! wc. 26K im so sry
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cw. yeonjun is a bit of a jerk in a flashback, classism, yj is an environmental activist and if u are a climate change denier, feel free to block <3, mira (oc) is described as chubby, yeonjun sneaks into mira's room (but not in a pervy way).
YEONJUN'S POV
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Open your heart to the adventure ahead. I glare back at the cheesy quote slapped across the page-a-day calendar resting on my desk Mother gifted me last Christmas. The phrases usually amount to nothing more than fortune cookie wisdom or elementary classroom poster encouragements, and today's offering is no exception.
It’s plastered in meetings and to-dos I have today. One meeting is with a new landscape architect for the garden, another with Gemma about the upcoming quarterly dinner, and another with our ambassador about an upcoming international environmental meeting I’m attending later this year. 
Philanthropy has always been a forte of mine. No matter the cause, I can persuade the richest of the rich to contribute to the cause, I host grand fundraising events, and love speaking for what I care about. My pursuits have evolved over time, ranging from childhood health to advocating for mental wellness and combating food scarcity. 
It’s been difficult to choose what I cared about most, but I simply can’t commit all of my focus to every cause, no matter how hard I try. Within the last few years, my focus has been the environment—an urgent matter demanding action, even if I’m not a major contributor to the problem. Nonetheless, I certainly have influence over large corporations that do, not to mention my political influence. I've also cultivated a deep appreciation for the arts, advocating for universal access. Last year, I facilitated the donation of $125,000 worth of instruments to local public schools.
Outside of work, I like learning new instruments and artforms—right now, pottery and piano—and reading. And I love to travel. I always fly commercial—never private. 
“Honey, be in the common room in fifteen minutes,” Mother—the Queen—says at my door. She glows as her deep ruby chiffon dress flows with her movements, exuding royal, elegance, and authority. She finishes putting in her gold earring before adding, “We have a new hire.” 
Ah, the customary introduction of new staff. I finish watering the peace lily on my window bench before heading down the hallway.
Our castle is opulent yet sophisticated and contemporary. I genuinely love the peacock-green walls, the gold trim, the myriad of photos on the walls—memories of the Queen presenting awards, snapshots from my trips, simple portraits. Despite the grandeur of it all, it’s home.
The common room is large and well-lit thanks to the floor to ceiling windows. Lots of comfortable seating scatters the floor for when guests are over. A large Morisot painting hangs on the wall opposite the windows—brushstrokes full of energy and splashes of rich greens and blues. But it’s the simplicity I love about it. It’s why I bought it. 
“Good morning, Your Majesties,” Gemma states as she enters the room, fifteen staff people following behind her. Everyone does their obligatory bows and curtsies, something I never particularly liked. But I understand the purpose behind it. 
The staff stand in a straight line facing us, Gemma being the stiffest of all—she commands the room, adores perfection, and keeps everything in order. She isn’t my personal favorite staff person, but I don’t know what we’d do without her. 
They’re all wearing their boring uniforms—half are in drab grey frocks with white aprons and the other half are in drab grey suits. I’d rather they wear whatever they want.
Formal introductions like these aren’t to my taste. I like getting to know the staff on our own terms. Organically. But this is important to Gemma. It’s a sort of initiation, a welcome into the family. So I let her do what she needs to do, but I’m busy reminding myself of my to-do list.
Email Princess Everly about the upcoming benefitReschedule interview with Philanthropy DailyOutline Climate Week keynote speech
“As you know,” Gemma startles me out of my thoughts. “We’ve welcomed a new person to our team. I want everyone to give her a warm welcome.” Walking to the end of the line, she introduces her, “This is Mira.” 
Mira smiles softly with a curtsy that I’m assuming she learned to do in the kitchen moments earlier. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am,” she says, tilting her head toward Mother. “And you too, Sir.”
“Nice to—oh.” My mouth hangs open. What am I supposed to say again? Oh right, “Um…it’s nice to meet you too,” I finally murmur. That was embarrassing. 
Everything flashes across the movie screen in my mind—memories with her. The girl I fell in love with when I was a stupid teenager. The girl who stole my first kiss. The girl that was so sweet to me and treated me like any other kid because that’s all I was—a kid.
But she wasn’t just a girl to me. She was the first—only—person I was in love with. The girl I snuck out of the castle at night to go stargazing with. The girl I told all my secrets to. The girl I never thought I’d see again. How could I have forgotten her? 
Do you remember me?
Perhaps that’s all I was to her, though—a boy. Another insignificant teenage romance. Then again…how could she forget? We’d talk for hours about spending our lives together. She’d even picked out her favorite room in the castle that we’d move into together when the time came. It’s now the music room, complete with a piano among other instruments. 
We’d sit under her favorite willow tree in the garden eating red bean buns she’d brought back from the next town over when she’d visit her cousins. 
Have you forgotten? To be fair, It has been six…seven years. Wow. 
The room soon clears, except for Mira and myself. She paces around and smooths her skirt.
“Oh!” Mira gasps. “I’m so sorry. I thought everyone had left,” she says with an awkward curtsy. Simply shaking my head, I stay put. “...Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?”
“Nope…uh, no,” I start, fiddling with the edge of one of the couches before finally speaking up again. “Where are you from?” I’m testing the waters. Trying to see if she remembers me without coming straight out and asking. Honestly, I do this with all our staff: ask where they’re from, get to know them a bit. I don’t like having robots I know nothing about doing everything for me. 
“I’m originally from the next town over.”
Hm. Am I wrong? Maybe she simply looks a lot like my Mira. And has the same name. And the same gorgeous brown eyes. Perhaps I shouldn’t refer to her as my Mira anymore. 
“I’ve lived here since I was a kid though,” she adds. Ah, okay. That seems like something I should’ve known. Nodding, I open my mouth to say something else, but Mother calls me from a distance.
“Yep.” I stand up straight as a pin, turning to exit the room. “Be right there.” 
-
Rummaging through my drawers, I finally find it. The necklace I’d bought Mira all those years ago—a delicate circle pendant with an “M” stamped in the middle hanging from a delicate gold chain. She wore it everyday for six months. I can’t remember how I ended up with it, though. 
So, she’s real. At least that’s true. What should I do with it? I pace up and down the hallways clutching it, brainstorming about what to do with it. Perhaps I should simply walk up to her and ask her about it. Should I wrap it for her and give it to her as a present? Should I give it to Gemma to return to her?
“Oh, Gemma, I’m sorry,” I say, apologizing for almost bumping into her. 
“Not a problem, sir.” She curtsies and begins to walk away, but—
“Gemma?” She turns, holding her hands behind her back, awaiting my instruction. “Can you tell me where the new hire stays? I want to make sure I’ve got everyone’s rooms in order in my head.”
“Mira?” I nod. “She lives in room number six, sir.”
“Thank you.” I smile, but she simply waits. Ah— “Dismissed.” 
As I nonchalantly make my way to the staff wing, I keep an eye out for anyone who might be watching. Not that anyone would question me, but I don’t like people in my business. I eventually find her room in the same hallway as everyone else’s—a basic wooden door painted white with a brass “6” nailed to it—I hesitate before knocking softly. No response. I try again, slightly louder. Still nothing. On the third attempt, I test the door handle and find it unlocked. I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m just gonna get in, put the necklace somewhere, then get out. I won’t bother any of her stuff. 
But her room is so sweet. Plain and organized since she just moved in. A single photograph of her and her parents with who I’m assuming is her grandmother rests on the dresser. The bed’s made neatly. There’s a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. 
Ah, the bedside table drawer. That should be a good spot, but I find things that are way too personal in there and decide against it, respecting her privacy despite the fact that I’m breaking and entering. 
Hm…where to put it? Sock drawer? The windowsill catches my eye—a perfect blend of visibility and subtlety. I approach it, careful not to disturb anything, and hang the necklace on the window latch. It’s hiding in plain sight but still easy to find and doesn’t show that I rummaged through her drawers, which is a plus.
Now, we wait. 
-
A week passes. Radio silence. I haven’t gone back to her room to see if it's still hanging on her window, but I haven’t seen it around her neck either. Perhaps she threw it away and I should give up. 
Trudging through my bedroom door, I loosen my tie and toss my phone and wallet onto my bed. I attempt to rub the tiredness out of my eyes, but I’m exhausted. Thankfully, my dinner is already waiting for me on my dresser under a cloche. 
Next to my plate is a glass of ice water dripping in condensation along with a napkin and a set of cutlery. And resting right next to my fork is Mira’s necklace. The sight of it sends a jolt through my system. I knew she came into my room somewhat regularly—all the staff do—but thinking about her in my room makes me tingle. 
I sink onto the edge of my bed with a sigh as the chain slips through my fingers. When I first gave it to her seven years ago, her eyes lit up and her smile made everything feel right. I knew we were supposed to be together. That all seems so distant now.
Why didn’t she simply get rid of it? 
Maybe she hasn’t given up entirely and neither should I. 
It goes back and forth between us for a few weeks. After I found it on my dresser, I slipped it into her apron pocket. Then I found it between the pages of my notebook. The day after I wrapped it around the sugar bowl’s lid handle, it appeared wrapped around the handlebar of my bike. 
We never spoke a word of it. 
Every time I found it, it made me smile, but I knew this couldn't continue forever. I need to see her, to talk to her, to find out what was really going on. Does she want to talk to me? Does she hate me? Does she even remember me?
The next morning, I slip a note under her door. 
Meet me under the willow tree at 8. - Y
Every minute of the day feels like an eternity as I wait for evening to arrive. Doubt gnaws at me, but the thought of seeing and speaking to Mira keeps me sane. 
The evening air is cool and crisp. The sun has dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep blue. Waiting under the willow tree, I think about the many times Mira and I have sat under here and talked for hours, watching the stars as the branches swayed in the wind. We’d talk about our days, places we wanted to visit together, how I wanted to tell everyone about us but she was too hesitant. 
Minutes start to feel like hours as I wait, the silence around me amplifying my racing thoughts. What if she never comes? What if she didn’t get the note? What if she’s avoiding me? Does she hate me?
Finally, soft footsteps approach and I turn to see Mira, her silhouette framed by the dim garden lights. She walks slowly, like she’s dragging it out as long as possible. As she comes up to me, her eyes search mine. My heart races, there’s a lump in my throat. 
"Mira," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. She curtsies. “You don’t need to do that.”
“It’s my job, Sir,” she says flatly. Rocking back on my heels, I press my lips together. 
"I thought I’d return this straight to you,” I say, holding up the necklace. “It seems like it keeps getting lost.” I chuckle nervously, trying to break the tension.
“Thanks,” she replies flatly as she accepts the necklace. Oh my god, she’s gorgeous. I thought I’d memorized every detail about her, but seeing her now under the lamppost, it’s like I’m rediscovering her all over again. She’s beautifully chubby and always has been. Her long, dark brunette hair has a tint of red that makes it look like cinnamon. The wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants paired with an old pair of flip flops tells me she either forgot about our meeting and got dressed in a hurry or wants to get this over with. Or perhaps both. 
“What can I help you with, Sir?” Awkward silence. 
“Mira,” I whisper, her name a fragile plea on my lips. She stares at the ground, avoiding my eyes. What was she expecting? For me to never bring us up? Of course I’d talk to her about it. “Mira Ashenrose, right?” She hums quietly. “I realized I never asked your last name since you started working here.” 
The silence between us is thick with tension. Memories flood my mind and I hope the same is happening to her. The last time we were here, we laid with each other for hours, so long that the sun started rising. She fit so perfectly in my arms. 
“I can’t forget you, Mira,” I say, stepping closer. “Why are you avoiding…us?” The space between us is charged as electricity swirls around us. “Remember us? All those nights we went stargazing? Our picnics? Those daisy chains you made me? You can’t tell me you don’t—”
“Of course I remember,” she interrupts, tears glistening in her eyes. My heart aches at the sight. “I remember everything, Yeonjun.” She wipes a tear from her cheek. “I remember falling asleep under this willow tree with you. I remember dancing with you. I remember kissing you before sneaking back into my house. I remember everything, okay?” Her voice trembles. “But that doesn’t mean I want to.” 
“What? Why wouldn’t you?”
She looks utterly heartbroken. “Don’t do this to me, Yeonjun. Stop being cruel.”
Her words punch me in the gut and everything comes rushing back. The reason we ended. I’d asked her to our annual ball—our first public appearance together. The Queen would find out. My royal friends would find out. The whole country would find out. She was a wreck for weeks leading up to it, but I reassured her every chance I got that it would be okay. 
She was—and still is—smart, incredibly beautiful, but most of all, I loved her. Why should anyone care if she wasn’t a royal as long as I was in love with her? That should’ve been enough. 
"Yeonjun, darling," my mother's voice sliced through the delicate hum of the ballroom. "I'd like you to meet Princess Penelope. She's your esteemed companion for the evening." Always so professional. 
“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a strained greeting to Penelope before turning to face my mother.  "May I have a word with you in private?"
Graciously excusing herself, she left me to confront my mother amidst the grandeur of the ballroom. "Why would you do this? I told you I didn’t want to be set up.”
"I understand, Yeonjun," my mother replied with a tight-lipped smile. "But it's time you started considering your future—"
"My future?" I scoffed. "I'm eighteen."
"Exactly," she countered, her tone firm. "You need to think about a suitable partner. Someone who embodies the qualities of a Queen—dignity, wisdom, influence. And most importantly: royal,” she pointed a finger at me. “I won’t be around forever, darling.”
“Do they really need to be royal?”
My mother's smile widened, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes. "Of course. Why do you ask?"
I swallowed what I really needed to say. There’s no way I’d win an argument anyway. With a resigned nod, I returned to Princess Penelope, the weight of my mother's expectations—and I suppose my entire country’s—heavy on my shoulders. So heavy I’d forgotten—
“Mira,” I said under my breath. There she was, staring at me in disbelief as I danced with Princess Penelope. Ignoring the questioning from Penelope, I abandoned her mid-step and made a beeline for Mira, my heart pounding with a mixture of dread and urgency. "Mira, wait!" I called out, desperation lacing my voice as I chased after her out of the ballroom and into the moonlit courtyard.
"Why, Yeonjun?" Mira's voice cracked as she finally turned to face me, tears staining her cheeks. "Why would you do this?"
"I had no choice," I confessed, my mother’s expectations running circles in my mind. “My mother made me.” 
"You could've told me," Mira interjected, her voice trembling.
"When?" I demanded, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I only found out thirty minutes ago—"
"You could've texted me.”
"I can't risk—"
"What, people finding out about us?" Mira's voice rose with each word, her anguish palpable in the cool night air. “Are you ever going to tell The Queen about us?” Squeezing the bridge of my nose, my eyes twist shut. “Well?” 
Looking at her—possibly for the last time—she looked absolutely beautiful. Her gown was perfect. Soft lavender satin that caught the light as it cascaded down the skirt, a glimmer of fuschia reflecting in the light. I wanted nothing but to hug her, to feel the satin on my fingertips. The sweetheart neckline was gorgeous on her, accentuating her frame perfectly. The M necklace rested around her neck. Her hair was absolutely perfect—she’d been trying out styles for weeks and the final choice was supposed to be a surprise.
“Answer me, Yeonjun.”
I couldn’t do that anymore. Mother meant what she said to me earlier that night: they must be royal. “Just go home,” I said, turning to leave her there alone. Breaking her heart was the best thing to do in the moment. If I could never truly be with her, breaking it off right then and there was the easiest thing for both of us. 
“What? Why—”
“What do you expect, Mira? You’re not royalty. You’re nothing,” I said. “Now go home.”
Too stunned to speak, I stare at her in disbelief. How could I have been so evil to her? What was I thinking? Why did I forget that? Must’ve blocked it from my memory. And now that I’m older, I’d never let some stupid outdated rule like that stand in our way. 
“I’m so—”
“Save it,” she says flatly. “I should’ve thrown away the necklace the first time I found it.” Straightening her posture, she wipes the final tear rolling down her cheek, shaking her head to rid of the emotions. “Let’s pretend this whole thing never happened, yeah?” 
Fine. If someone did that to me, if someone told me I was nothing after telling them they were in love with me for six months, I’d probably feel the same way, if I’m honest. 
As I accept my fate, I turn to walk away, but halt in my footsteps. “No,” I start. “I don’t want to forget this—that we ever happened.” She stays standing there, arms crossed, trying to control her breathing. But I hover over her, waiting for a response. “Please. I miss—”
“Don’t.” She snaps, shaking her head. “Don’t even think about starting that bullshit with me…Sir.”
“I told you, Mother set me up with her.”
“I don’t care about that. You told me I was nothing.” Speechless again, I can’t move. “You never even tried to contact me again and you expect me to give you a second chance?”
“That was seven years ago.”
“So?”
“I’m…we’re both so different. I used to be a stupid teenager. I would never— Please—”
“Please, what? What do you want from me?”
“I don’t—” Honestly, I thought maybe we could pick up where we left off, but I don’t know if that’s possible at this point. I hadn’t felt lonely until she showed up, drowning in my endless to do lists, barely ever hanging out with anyone that wasn’t on my staff or another royal. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe think about that first.”
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cw. eating food. 
MIRA'S POV
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On my days off, I hide away in a gazebo in a quiet part of the garden and sketch. It’s a nice place to escape to, away from everyone while staying close to home. Home. It’s still hard to believe this castle is my home, even if I am just a servant. 
The gazebo sits against a stone wall on one side—one of those that looks so old you wonder how it's still standing, withered with moss growing between the stones, vines going up and around it. The bench theoretically offers lots of seating, but most of it is covered in pots, plants, and gardening supplies. It’s more storage than an intended place to rest. 
My spot was bare when I found it and it gives me a full view of the grounds. To the right, our village is on full display—colorful, quaint, and inviting. To the left, a thick forest stands tall, leaves rustling with the wind.
Someone’s foot crunches the gravel as they walk toward me and my little corner, but I don’t react. As long as I stay relatively still and quiet, no one bothers me. I continue my sketch of those cute squirrels running around together under the willow tree I’ve always loved. Although it’s left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth recently. 
But the presence of a person looms behind me. Can’t I have one quiet day to myself? Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. They’ll leave eventually. Maybe. Hopefully. 
“...Mira?” A familiar voice says, slow and undeniably warm. 
“Oh.” I stand up straight, giving my obligatory curtsy Gemma has ingrained in me since day one. 
“I told you not to do that,” Yeonjun—Prince Yeonjun—says. He’s dressed casually today, cute even. But don’t you dare tell anyone I said that. A simple maroon cashmere sweater that fits perfectly with his dark wash jeans that barely gather at his ankles, exposing his black vans. A short necklace of black beads sits around his neck. One of those outfits you’d see him wearing in a magazine with a caption like, ‘Royals – they’re just like us!’ 
“And I told you, it’s my job,” I say, returning to my seat, continuing my drawing. 
“Not right now though,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “It’s your day off, right?”
“You have my schedule memorized?” 
“No,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his shiny, black hair that I can practically feel on my fingertips. “Why else would you be hiding in my corner?”
“I figured you followed me—your corner?” 
“I wasn’t following you,” he says, walking closer before rocking back on his heels as he stops. “I read here sometimes.” He holds up a book. “You thought this spot just happened to be clear on its own?” I hum, scooting over and patting the bench next me. “You’re really okay with me here? I don’t want to bother you,” he says, as genuine as one can sound. But I’m still surprised. Sure, he’s not the demanding type, but I don’t know if I’d act the same if I were royalty. 
“To be fair, I was here first,” I say smugly. Although, he is still my boss. It doesn’t matter that we know each other from that past. I add a quick, “...Sir.” for good measure. “Go ahead and sit.”
“Don’t you hate me?” He asks and I chuckle, but when I look up, I see he’s serious. 
“No, I don’t hate you,” I say. “I’ve moved on, Yeonjun.”
Shrugging, he sits near me, opening his book. I tried to get a peek at the title, but I never got the chance without being too obvious. As he sits next to me, I must admit his presence adds a peaceful comfort to what would typically be a relatively silent, if not boring, morning. There’s even a sort of completeness. Birds seem to be chirping more harmoniously. The clouds have disappeared. Oh, what am I saying? That’s ridiculous. That’s a coincidence, Mira. 
“You still draw?” He perks up, pulling me from my thoughts. 
“Of course,” I answer immediately. 
“What are you working on?” Straightening on the bench, I riffle through some papers quickly, trying to hide any potentially embarrassing sketches I don’t want him to see. 
“Just sketches.”
He nods, curiosity etched on his face. “Can I see?” 
“Uh,” I clear my throat. “Sure,” I say, sitting one of my feet on the ground, turning toward him. Our knees brush each other for a moment, but I quickly move it out of his way. Smiling, he examines my drawing of my favorite willow tree I finished yesterday before bed. My cheeks flush as I remember why it was on my mind while drawing, but I hope he doesn’t draw that conclusion. 
“Ah, you’ve gotten so much better.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I chuckle. 
“I just mean,” he looks at me, eyebrows raised in defense. “I can tell you’ve been working on it, I dunno. How else would I say that?”
“That’s fine,” I say. Awkwardness fills the air as I shift my weight around. 
“I’ve been doing pottery, you know.”
I do know. But I’m not supposed to be listening in on their conversations at dinner. I can’t help I’m nosy. I simply ask, “Really?” Humming, he pulls out his phone. 
“This one just came out of the kiln.” He hands me his phone—I wonder what world secrets are on Prince Yeonjun’s phone—to show me a beautifully hand thrown vase. The body is smooth and cylindrical with a slightly tapered neck that gracefully flares out at the top. White glaze covers the surface, contrasting with the thick organic strokes of black glaze. Small, oval handles are attached on both sides. “I just learned how to do handles.” 
“Oh my gosh, Yeonjun…” My breath is taken away. I had no idea he was such an incredible artist. It looks like it was plucked straight out of a museum. “It’s gorgeous.” He always was one to do things perfectly—an all-or-nothing kinda guy. 
“Thanks,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 
“Show off,” I say, lightly nudging his arm with my elbow.  
An hour or so passes and I’ve switched sitting positions several times, eventually landing on a classic leaned-back-against-the-wall position with my feet up on the bench so I can use my knees and thighs as a desk. He’s barely moved an inch though, sitting happily with his back pressed against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, reading. 
I barely notice my toes absent-mindedly tucking themselves under his thigh like I used to do when we were—
“Oh!” A servant that I haven’t learned the name of yet stumbles in on us, carrying a tray full of food. “I’m sorry—”
“No, it’s okay,” Yeonjun says, but I’m doing everything I can to hide my face. This can’t get back to the other servants. They’re all such gossips, which I guiltily love, but that doesn’t mean I want them gossiping about me. “Come on over, Natalie.”
“I swear I didn’t tell her about your spot, Sir,” Natalie says nervously.
“I know you didn’t. It’s okay,” he offers a gentle smile, reaching out for the tray, dismissing her after she curtsies, scurrying off quickly. “Don’t worry,” Yeonjun says to me. “She keeps all my secrets—she’s the only one that knows I come out here. She won’t say anything about,” he trails off, gesturing his hand between us.
“There’s nothing to tell.” 
“Alright,” he sighs. “You hungry?”
“No.” My stomach growls at the worst possible moment. 
“I kinda feel like you are.” I ignore him, focusing on my drawing. “I asked her to bring another meal. You can have it if you want.” 
Peeking over my sketchbook, the tray is fully decked out in sandwiches that look absolutely delicious; sides of mac and cheese and fruits, complete with two glasses of water and a little flower.
“I suppose I’m pretty hungry.” My stomach growls again at the sight of it. “Oh, ignore that; she’s been fussy all day.” I scooch closer to him hesitantly accepting the offer. 
“Mira,” Yeonjun starts. I hum, reaching for a pineapple slice. “Why are all the staff afraid of me?”
“Huh?” I look up at him.
“You saw how nervous Natalie was just thinking I might be mad at her.”
“I think you forget you’re a literal prince,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Are you scared of me?”
Hm. That’s an interesting question. No, of course I’m not scared of you. Why would I be? But perhaps the real answer is Yes, but in the way that everyone makes fun of when people say it out loud. Honestly, I am afraid. Afraid of falling for him again. Getting my heart broken again. We’ve barely talked since I started working here, but I know how convincing he can be. If I’m not careful, he’ll have me wrapped around his finger by next week. 
And let’s not forget he told me I was nothing. That kind of thing doesn’t simply go away. 
I wonder if he’s ever said something like that to one of the servants. Does he think all non-royalty are nothing? No, he wouldn’t be like that anymore. But how would I really know?
Shrugging, I finally say, “No.”
“That’s not very convincing.”
I roll my eyes, “I don’t know, Jjun—” I catch myself as that dumb nickname comes out of my stupid fucking mouth. What’s wrong with me? He looks at me with wide eyes. “Uh, Yeonjun…Sir.” Let’s just pretend like nothing happened. “You said some hurtful stuff to me. Have you said anything like that to one of them?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You could ask a servant if they’re scared of you.”
“I just did,” he points out. Right. I’m…a servant. I keep forgetting that bit when we’re alone. When we’re alone, it's like we’re friends. It’s casual and comfortable. See? What did I tell you? A few hours of silence followed by a few minutes of talking and I’m right back to where I was seven years ago. Stop being so pathetic. 
“Ah.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“No, I know,” I chuckle. “You’re right. But maybe ask a servant that seems like they’re scared of you. They’re probably scared of Gemma more than anything.”
As we wrap up our lunch, his phone buzzes—a calendar reminder probably. 
"I have to get going," he announces, moving efficiently to gather the remnants of our meal onto the tray. But as he stands to leave, an inexplicable urge pulls at me, begging him to stay. Please don’t do this, Mira. Don’t be stupid. 
With a gentle smile, he suggests, "I'll talk to you later?" It's then that I realize I’ve been staring at him in silence for the past who knows how long. "Oh, you have a leaf in your hair." I attempt to remove it myself, but without a mirror, it’s proving to be difficult. "Here," he offers, leaning down. My mind screams at me to resist, but his closeness sends a rush of warmth through my body. With gentle precision, he plucks the leaf away, discarding it casually.
Yet, instead of stepping away, he stays close. I pretend not to notice the magnetic pull between us. Stop it. Admit it. You want him to stay. Straightening my posture, we’re almost leaning into each other, like we’re about to—no. Our gazes dart between each other's lips, ghosts of his touch haunting my senses. Does he still taste the same?
The cool breeze snaps me back to reality. What were you thinking? "Thanks," I mumble, retreating to reestablish a distinct boundary.
"No worries," he replies. The fading sound of his footsteps on gravel leaves me facepalming.
How can I be this close to him without seeing him? Without falling for him again? There’s only one thing to do. 
Avoid him at all costs.
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cw. sexual tension, suggestive.  
MIRA'S POV
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“Didn’t you finish Mother’s painting in two weeks?” Prince Yeonjun asks, leaning against the doorframe to the sunroom. It’s become my makeshift painting studio. Once the Queen found out I sometimes do art, she thought it’d be a good idea to commission me for new portraits to replace the old ones in the Great Hall. I like painting and I need the money so I of course said yes. 
“Mm-hmm,” I nod, finishing up the final touches on the pattern of his royal cloak. “I’ve been busier recently,” I lie. In the painting, he sits with an arm resting atop a piano against a backdrop of rich velvet curtains like the ones in the living room. The intricate details of his uniform are perfect if I do say so myself. His face, though, is a grey blob with a basic sketch. I work off photographs for the most part, but for faces, I like them sitting right in front of me to get every detail.
But him sitting a foot away from me while I carefully analyze every detail of his face for hours does not sound like a good idea right now. Even if it does sound appealing. 
“You almost ready for me?” 
I should get it over with, but my hands are tired and I have a lot of tasks for my actual job to do before the end of the day.
“Tomorrow,” I say, walking my paintbrushes to the sink. “Does that work for you?” He’s quiet, so I look over my shoulder to make sure he heard me. Pushing himself off the doorframe, he shoves his hands in his pockets. 
“Y-yeah,” he says. “That should work.”
“Okay.” I wipe my paintbrushes with a towel. “Meet here after lunch?” Smiling gently, he nods. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to my real job. See you tomorrow,” I say with a curtsy. 
Tomorrow comes way too fast. I brush my teeth, floss, use mouthwash, and chew some gum to get rid of any trace of my lunch. Dragging my feet down the hallway, I can’t get there slow enough. 
“Ah, Mira,” he says with a smile that warms me from the inside out. I respond with a simple hello, but I’m already burning up as I gather my brushes and paints while he watches me in silence. I realize I’d forgotten to curtsy, but I decide to omit it this time considering he hates it so much. 
“The Queen sat on this stool when I painted her,” I say, moving the stool into place. “You might need to adjust the height.” While he does that, I mix a base for his skin. Starting by mixing the primary colors to get a deep brown, I add a good amount of white to lighten it up then a good amount of yellow and a touch of red for warmth. “Sit still,” I giggle, holding my palette knife next to his cheek. His shoulders rise and fall with his breathing while I add more brown to darken it a bit. Clasping my hands together, I say, “Alright, I’ll be painting for at least two hours, so do anything else you need to do.” 
“I’m good.” 
Shrugging, I adjust my easel so he’s in my sightline but not too close.
Two minutes into painting, he asks, “So how’s your day been?”
“Good. You?” 
“Good,” he responds. I truly don’t mind silence between us two, but I must admit this silence is deafening. “Do you work in silence or can you talk?”
I giggle and say, “I can talk. Or you can play music if you want.” 
“How about both?” I nod. “Alexa, play classical music to focus,” he pauses, waiting for it to respond and start playing. “Tell me what you’re working on.”
“Well,” I start, swishing my brush into some clean water. “I’d already had a basic sketch of your face, but I made some skin tones first. A base, a highlight, and a shadow,” I say, showing him my palette. “Then I’ll go in and fine tune everything.” 
Time passes by—I’ve honestly always liked simply existing near him. We used to do this all the time back when we were dating. Sit near each other and just be. Quietly. Like the other day in the garden when I was drawing and he was reading. It’s peaceful. I can focus. 
It smells like that day in here—soil and paint. Whoever keeps up with these plants is great at their job. They’re gorgeous even in the winter.
“Now I’m working on your eyes,” I say matter-of-factly. Part of me starts with his eyes to get it over with and avoid them as soon as I can, but the other part counts myself lucky that I have reason to stare at them for the next thirty minutes or so. I mix a deep, cool brown and dip my pinkie into it to hold it up next to his eye. “I’m, um,” I glance down. “I’m gonna touch your face.” My pinkie rests on the apple of his cheek so I can get as close as I can to his eye without touching it. “Open your eyes.” 
Damn. Those eyes are like mirrors reflecting my deepest emotions. The world around us fades. I almost drop my palette. Glimpses of our history, our laughter, tears, and dreams we’ve shared together swirl around in them. They take my breath away. 
Realizing we’re staring at each other, I snap out of it, jerking my hand away from him and dive into painting them instead of gazing into them. 
“First try?” I hum in question. “You got the color of my eyes right on the first try?” My ears warm up.
“Well, you know…” I say, my head hanging low. “They’re the same as the Queen’s.” Lie. The Queen’s are much warmer. Hues of deep mahogany and amber; they’re vibrant with hints of gold and copper that catch the light. They glow in the sun. His, on the other hand, are intensely dark. Deep and rich like shadowy moonlight. You could get lost in them like a maze at night. They’re like reading a book by candlelight. They’re gorgeous. 
“Why do I need to be here again?” He asks and I look jokingly offended. “I mean, you worked off photos up until now.”
“So I can get the details of your face I might otherwise miss,” I say, closely examining his face. “Like this freckle,” I say, poking the freckle on his right cheek with the end of my paintbrush that I would never miss in a million years. It’s one of my favorites. “Or this little birthmark.” He’s got the slightest purple splotch on his cheek that again, I’d never miss. 
“You’re painting those?”
“Of course,” I say. “They’re part of you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him grazing his fingertips over his cheek, smiling to himself. “Move closer.” Examining his features even closer, I’m a few inches from his face. I, again, realize I’m staring at his face and my heartbeat quickens. I snap back and say, “Um…sorry.”
“You’re okay.”
But this keeps happening. I keep getting close to him, our hearts beating together as our breath gets sharp. And fuck, I miss him. I can’t help but think about if I were doing this for fun, not as a staff person. I used to draw him all the time. 
And now, here he is, grown up, mature, tall, and utterly handsome as I’m forced to paint a larger-than-life portrait of the guy I used to love and thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. I was such a stupid eighteen-year-old. 
He doesn’t stop staring at me. Not when I add details to his nose. Not when I clean my brush. Not when I observe my painting from a distance. I catch his glare. 
“Can you stop staring at me like that?” I ask, a smile teasing my lips. 
“Like what?”
“Like…” I cock my head to the side. 
“Like you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?” Ah, fuck you. The warmth that rushes through my body is overwhelming and I swear my knees are ready to buckle. My hands tremble as I fight the urge to drop everything. “I don’t think I can stop that, Mira,” he adds softly. 
“You can’t say shit like that to me, Yeonjun,” I manage to say, my smile stubbornly betraying my attempt to stay cool. I keep my eyes on the brush, pretending I’m not seconds away from screaming. 
“Why not?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear.
“Because…” I finally look over at him, incredibly close to me, eyes flitting all over my face, indiscreetly hovering on my lips. Admittedly, my eyes do the same: land on his lips and suddenly the only thing I’m thinking about is kissing him. “Because…” I repeat, trying to get me to do literally anything but kiss him in this moment, but we both know that’s the only thing either of us want. Each other. To be together. 
I try to remember what his lips feel like. Strong and passionate. At least they used to be. 
How have they changed now that he’s older and has most likely gone through a few serious partners and several hook-ups? Are they softer and more loving now that he’s not a dumb ego-ridden eighteen-year-old? Are they even stronger now that he’s found himself and has solidified his position as a Prince? I wonder. No. Don’t do this. Oh, but why not? 
In one ear, the wise and cautious version of me begs me to refrain from kissing him. Don’t do this, Mira. Remember how heartbroken you were. Mixing romance with your boss is a terrible idea. 
The more rebellious, lust-ridden version of me counters, Look how much hotter he’s gotten. Just make out with him. The Queen is your boss, not him. You could always make out with him, maybe even fuck him, and pretend like nothing happened. 
Wise Mira gasps, That’s mean! 
Right, Lustful Mira says. But he was mean to her. 
Listen to me, Wise Mira chirps up. Don’t kiss him at all. 
Lustful Mira chimes in again, But Mira…look how absolutely delicious his lips look. You want him. He clearly wants you. Don’t you wanna—
“Because I said so.”
He chuckles, “Fair enough.” 
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cw. brief mentions of alcohol, cunnilingus, fingering, mira briefly feels self conscious about her body and pubic hair, mira lies to a stranger, begging, yj sneaks into a room she's in, sir kink. 
MIRA'S POV
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"What are you wearing friday?" Hyomin casually asks, a knowing smirk on her lips as she effortlessly dusts the coffee table while I clean the windows—the newbie’s job. 
"Aren't we supposed to wear our uniforms?"
"Oh no, darling! The quarterly dinners are the sacred day we break free from the uniform chains—as long as it’s formal." Hyomin is one of few servants I genuinely like. Most of the others are constantly trying to play the game to move up the ladder—none of them really want to be friends. 
The ones that aren’t too busy playing the game are too on edge, following each rule to the letter. 
Yeonjun—Prince Yeonjun, I correct myself for the millionth time—unexpectedly knocks on the door. I, Hyomin, and Natalie perform our obligatory curtsies, even though I know he hates it. If we don’t though, Gemma fusses at us, which he also knows, so he plays along.
"Excuse me," he says, clearing his throat. "Could I trouble someone for a refill on my coffee?"
Natalie, always willing to volunteer, seizes the opportunity and responds quickly. "Certainly, Sir." She breezes by the coffee table to scoop up the metal coffee pot resting on it, returning to the Prince to pour him a fresh mug. 
Our eyes catch each other, a small yet obnoxiously noticeable smile appears on both our faces. Hyomin nudges my arm and mumbles, "And you've gotta wear something extra special for him, right?" What? My eyes widen, shock and annoyance evident in my expression. Shooting a piercing glare at her, I’m rendered momentarily speechless. Hyomin persists, her voice low, "Oh, don't act all innocent. I've seen how you two look at each other.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
A mischievous smile plays on her lips, "It's adorable, really. The blushing, the hair-tucking when he says hello, the clumsy encounters,” she says, tilting her head toward him. “Look how red his ears are.” I must admit, they are pretty pink. “We all talk about it, you know.”
“Did Natalie say something?”
“No,” she says confused, but her look soon turns suspicious. “Why would she?” Damn it. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? I avoid eye contact, hoping she’ll give up, but I doubt she ever will. “Mira, why would Natalie say something?”
“No idea.” 
She hums knowingly. "Yeah, right. You two are so obviously dating, it’s ridiculous,” she says, folding the decorative blanket that hangs on the back of the couch while he leaves the room. “We're all waiting for the announcement."
“We are not dating.”
Persistent as ever, Hyomin challenges again, "Look me in the eye right now and swear you haven’t at least kissed him."
I stand tall, smoothing the skirt of my uniform, then take a deep breath and lock eyes with her. “I swear I haven’t kissed him.”
Hyomin narrows her gaze, searching for any crack in my expression. My stomach churns, and before I can stop it, the words spill out in an unfiltered confession.
“…in seven years.”
Damn it. How did she get that out of me?
“What?”
“Shh—!”
“But wh-what do you mean?” She giggles, eager to hear what I’m assuming is the best gossip in years. Although, with royals, there has to have been something juicier than a teenage romance, right?
Motioning for secrecy, I say, “Promise you won’t say anything to the other servants. Please.” Hyomin nods, an expression that practically screams, Spill it. “We knew each other when we were teenagers. We dated then, okay? We broke up seven years ago. I’ve barely spoken to him since.” 
“Oh. My. God. Oh my god, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!”
“Calm down.” I hold my hands up. “It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal? It’s a huge deal,” she exclaims. “Y’all are totally still into each other.” 
“I mean, he’s cute,” I say. “But that ship has sailed.”
“Oh really?”
“Really.” I nod. “We’re just too different.”
“I dunno, I think—”
“Nope.”
“I just mean—”
“Drop it, Hyomin. It will never happen.” My words carry a finality to the discussion.
“Fine,” she concedes, folding her dust rag to place on the table. “The question still stands—what are you wearing Friday?”
Shrugging, I shake my head, “I don’t have anything formal.”
“A perfect excuse for a shopping trip—let’s go into town tomorrow,” she suggests. “I’ll get someone to cover for us for the lunch service.” 
-
“Ah, look at you!” Hyomin cheers. “You’re absolutely stunning.”
“I can’t remember the last time I got this dressed up.” Actually, I do. That night. The night he broke my heart. But I’m not thinking about that right now. In fact, I won’t be thinking about Yeonjun at all tonight. 
Walking down the stairs into the royal hall, the silk of my dress rustles gently as it shimmers in the light. It’s a gorgeous deep viridian that cascades to the floor, creating an ethereal effect with every move I make. The bodice is fitted perfectly, with boning that snatches my waist and makes my tits look amazing. The off-the-shoulder straps elegantly drape across my arms. To complete the look, I’m wearing gold dangle earrings and my hair is styled in loose waves that cascade down one of my shoulders. Around my neck is a delicate circle pendant with a moon stamped into it. 
It’s simply beautiful in here. I’d helped set it up this morning, but seeing the guests dressed up, hearing the musicians playing, the grandeur of it all—it takes my breath away. The air is filled with the soft murmur of conversation with an occasional loud laugh. 
One couple glides along the dancefloor in each other’s arms, both of their dresses flowing gracefully across the dancefloor. A group of young people wearing crowns and tiaras clink their glasses near the champagne tower. Someone else checks their jacket at the front door. 
Deep emerald velvet curtains drape along the walls, adding even more drama. Every detail of the Hall has been meticulously curated to evoke a sense of luxury. 
“Excuse me,” someone says as they brush my shoulder. “Oh.” It’s Yeon—Prince Yeonjun. “Hello.” I nod to him before my obligatory curtsy. Not even trying to hide the fact that he looks me up and down, he makes my cheeks burn. “You look…” He clears his throat. “Um, really pretty.” Well, there goes me not thinking about him at all tonight. How could I put him out of my mind when he looks like this? Positively sexy as hell in his prince uniform. So regal, rich, and powerful. 
“Thank you, Sir,” I say. I catch Hyomin out of the corner of my eye looking stiff as a board with her mouth hanging open. 
Extending his arm out, he asks me, “Care to dance?”
God, I’d fucking love to. How did he do this to me so quickly? We have one nice conversation, maybe a few glances in the hallway and suddenly he’s making my heart race like he did when we were dating. “I don’t think it would look very good for either of us if you were dancing with one of your servants.” Is that even true? I don’t know. 
He nods, pressing his lips together. “I’ll see you later then?”
“When?” I ask as he raises an eyebrow. I hope I didn’t sound too desperate. “I just mean, I don’t know why we would see each other.”
“Right,” he says. “Well, have a good evening.” He nods gently at me and then to Hyomin before walking away. 
Turning to Hyomin, she looks at me with a wide smile and knowing glare. She’s such a smug bitch. “Oh my god,” she gasps under her breath, drawing the edge of her wine glass to her lips. “Look at Prince Sipho over there.” Tilting her head to the side, she adds, “He may be even dreamier than Yeonjun.”
I scoff in my head, but I’d never tell anyone that. Instead, I murmur, “Where?”
“Right over there,” she smirks, tipping her head toward a literal tall, dark, and handsome man. Commanding the room with his height, he undeniably catches my gaze—not an eye contact that stops time in its tracks, but one where we can’t take our eyes off each other. 
Prince Sipho pushes his way through the crowd toward me, but I can’t help but wonder where Yeonjun is. Actually, why do I care at all? Shaking the thought out of my mind, I welcome this new prince’s hand reaching for my own as he delicately touches my knuckles with the poutiest part of his lips. I suppose he’s too much of a gentleman to fully press them to my skin. 
“May I have this dance?” He asks, looking up at me through his eye lashes. So formal. Quickly glancing at Hyomin, she gives me an eager nod. I guess the servants will have something to gossip about later. At least that’ll replace the conversations about me and Yeonjun. 
“Yes, you may,” I say, returning the formality. We do all the obligatory dancing things—hand on my waist, mine around his neck, holding each other’s free hands. Slowly stepping with the classy romantic music of the string quintet, he admittedly looks stunning in his formal wear—baby blue with gold trim. The baby blue brings out the radiant sapphire undertones of his deep brown skin, the gold showcasing the warmth of his amber irises. 
“So,” he starts, his voice deep and rumbling. “Who am I dancing with?” 
Without any hesitation, I lie, “Charlotte.”
“Well, Charlotte,” he says. “You’re on Prince Yeonjun’s staff?” I blink up at him with confusion etched on my face. How did he— “The rose?” He asks, tilting his head toward my chest where a delicate ivory rose is pinned to my dress to differentiate us from the guests in case someone needs something from us. 
“Ah,” I giggle. “Yes. Yes, I am.” Where is he anyway? No. I’m not dancing with Prince Sipho to make Yeonjun jealous—I’m dancing with him because he’s hot, seems sweet, and seems to think I’m hot too. Why would he be watching anyway? This is his party. He’s probably busy schmoozing with some high-stakes donors or some other royals. 
Prince Sipho’s hand glides down to the spot right above my ass—he’s really testing the boundaries, huh? I love it. But guilt twinges my heart. Half of me hopes he isn’t watching this and the other half hopes he is. I don’t know which is worse. 
A loud crash brings the room to a halt and I try to locate where the accident is, but Hyomin waves me over. “Damn it,” I murmur. “I’ve gotta go…clean that up. Excuse me.”
After rushing to clean up the broken glass, I return the broom to the closet that’s three times the size of my bedroom. I take my time putting it back—a break from the hustle and bustle of the party is very much needed right now. The click of the deadbolt jolts my heart. 
A million things run through my mind. A creep is in here with me. Hyomin locked it from the outside and forgot about me and now I’m locked in until someone remembers to come get me. How long am I gonna be in here? Is someone in here with me?
“Hello.”
“Oh,” I say, relieved. “Hello, Sir.” I curtsy, tilting my head toward Prince Yeonjun as he steps into the light. Why is he in here anyway? I’ve been trying so hard to avoid him since the garden when we almost—nevermind. But he’s weaseled his way into my life. Telling the Queen I paint so I’d paint those portraits of them—yeah, I saw right through that bullshit. Bumping into me earlier tonight. But there’s nowhere to run now. We’re utterly alone. 
That’s terrifying. 
He’s never looked at me like this. Dark pupils dilated with lust and desire. It makes my heart race and I stumble back, tripping over some old cardboard boxes, but I catch myself on the countertop. 
Walking toward me, he keeps his hands in his pockets, but manages to box me in, cornering me and standing tall over me, intimidating and somehow…safe. I know he’d never hurt me. Physically at least. But I also can’t wait to see what he does next. 
“So it’s okay for you to dance with Prince Sipho but not me?” His voice grumbles with the low hum of the music right outside the door. 
“I’m not one of his servants,” I say matter-of-factly. “Why do you care anyway?” I ask cheekily as he creeps closer and closer. So close I’m fully backed into this counter now, almost sitting on top of it. “What are you—” 
“Can I kiss you?”
“No,” I answer quickly. 
“Mira…” he sighs. “How can you expect me not to kiss you when you look like that?” That makes me feel things all throughout my body that I definitely shouldn’t be feeling for ex-boyfriends, especially an ex-boyfriend that’s also my boss. And the prince of my country. 
My mouth parts and I swear I tried my best not to lick my lips. “Don’t kiss my mouth,” I say. I told Hyomin I haven’t kissed him in seven years. At least that’ll still be true after whatever happens next. 
Reaching for my hand with his white-glove-clad one, he places a gentle yet devastatingly sensual kiss to the back of it, looking up at me through his eyelashes like Prince Sipho did moments ago. But he had nowhere near the effect Yeonjun has on me. I bet he can smell the nail polish from when Hyomin painted it on my nails a few hours ago. As his perfect pouty lips kiss my hand, I can’t help but wonder how those lips would feel in other places. 
“You look—” he stops for another kiss on my palm. “Absolutely—” then the pulse-point of my wrist. “Stunning.” Then inside my elbow. Making his way up higher, my breath hitches in the back of my throat. “As usual,” he adds. 
That fucker. 
He’s always been like this. Silky smooth then sugary sweet. It gives me whiplash. 
Eventually, his lips explore my collarbone. “You’re so warm.” I don’t know how I got up here, but I’m fully sitting on the counter now. His hands are all over me—brushing my upper arms, grazing the smooth satin of the dress that covers my thighs, digging into the folds of my hips. 
How did this happen? How did I go from dancing with one Prince—a perfectly nice and gentlemanly prince—to sharing this romantic…something with Prince Yeonjun? Something because it’s not a kiss, it’s not more than a kiss, but it’s certainly not less than a kiss. It’s…something. 
His palm brushes the side of my breast and he stops himself from pushing any further before he whispers in my ear, “Can I touch you?”
“I think you already are.”
Firmly squeezing my tit over my dress, I groan as my back arches. Oh my fucking god. Is this real?
Something in his body language switches at the sound of my groaning and he drops everything to get to his knees. He pushes the skirt of my dress up and past my thighs, looking up at me for permission.
Is he…? 
My pussy clenches around nothing at the sheer thought of those gorgeous plump lips around my clit. I let him explore further with his lips without any hesitation whatsoever. Then they’re inside my thighs, slowly moving closer where I desperately need him. Nerves fill my stomach. Flashbacks of other guys going to taste me and not liking what they find enter my mind. Is that gonna happen with him? Is he gonna be turned off by my hair? My stretch marks? The way my fat thighs cover his ears?
As much as my inner feminist hates those thoughts, there’s always that twinge of embarrassment that I still haven’t managed to work through. 
“Yeonjun…” I sigh. “You don’t have to.”
“What if I want to?” He asks. “Do you want me to?” Obviously. I nod. Pressing his lips to the outside of my panties, he breathes me in and I realize he’s never been this close to me. Ever. 
Sure, we’ve kissed, but we were teenagers, we had no idea what we were doing. It never got this far. Never got past the occasional makeout session on my picnic blanket under the willow tree. “You smell so good.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, shut up.”
“I’m serious. You smell delicious.” 
Lips delicate and careful, he takes his time. I never thought this is how it would be with him. I always thought of him as the kind of guy to get straight to it. At least that’s how I imagined it—him embracing me because he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed me right then and there. Whisking me off to his bedroom to undress me, never careful, never delicate. 
But I love it. Love taking a deep breath, letting my head lull back onto the wall behind me, my entire body relaxing. The feeling of a tongue flicking my clit for the first time in months, and the first time it’s his tongue. I card my hand through his hair, gripping some strands between my fingers. Mouth dropping open, I sigh, looking down at him, eyes closed, fully entranced by my taste. Thank fuck he knows exactly what he’s doing now. 
The softness of his white cotton gloves feels like heaven against the heat of my thighs, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want his bare hands on me. 
Like a mind-reader, he plucks his gloves off, one finger at a time, putting me under a spell as he goes. I stare at him as he loosens the glove by pulling on the pointer finger, then the middle, the ring, his pinky, then tugging it all the way off. It’s so sexy. I think I caught a small smirk, but it's just dark enough for it to be hidden. 
The tip of his finger teases my entrance and I can tell— “Fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so wet, darling.”
Don’t call me that. But I can’t bring myself to say it out loud…I’m not even sure I’d mean it if I did. He finally pushes his finger all the way inside me, curling the tip of it to find just the right spot that makes me absolutely moan. He lets go of my skirt to grip my thighs, finally feeling him squeeze and touch me after all these years of wanting him. I beg myself not to stop him and make him touch me everywhere before continuing. 
My pointer fingers graces his and he intertwines his fingers with mine. Something this intimate only happens between lovers, right? Holding hands while fucking in the closet when there’s a party right outside the door? I can’t decide if this is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done or if it’s the most romantic thing. 
Arguing with myself internally, a second finger breaches my entrance, filling me even more so than before. He’s incredible…almost skillful with his fingers. It’s sexy. And exciting. 
Expertly flicking his tongue, he finds the perfect spot with his fingertips, forcing me to buck my hips…fuck I’m so close already. How did he do this to me?
“Please…”
Everything comes to a halt. “Please what?”
“Fuck, Yeonjun, don’t do that to me.” 
“Don’t do what to you? Get you to talk to me?” I look down, defeated. How am I supposed to respond to that? Is that the only reason he’s doing this? Because I’ve been avoiding him and this was the only way he could think of to get me to talk to him? “Tell me what you want. What are you asking for?” Oh. It’s like that. Okay. 
“Please…” It’s already unbelievable that we’re doing this in a closet with a party going on outside. Prince Yeonjun is on his knees for me. And he’s making me beg? I can hardly take it. “Uh…” I stutter, trying to close my legs instinctively. He backs off, eyebrows furrowed. He’s worried about me. I didn’t mean it like that. “You’re not finished yet, are you?” I ask, pushing him back closer with my heel. 
“I’ll finish when you tell me what you want.”
Gracing my finger under his chin, I force him to look at me in the eye before saying, “Make me come. I need it so bad. Please.”  
Cocking his head to the side, he says, “I’ve always wanted to hear you beg for me.” 
My chest heaves as he dives back in for more, flicking his tongue the way I love, thrusting his fingers in and out of me. 
“Fuck, you feel good.” 
“You are delicious.” I’d love it if he could talk to me the way I—and hopefully he—likes. Dirty, up close and in my ear, but this’ll have to do for now. He can get to the real good stuff later. Will there be a later though? 
A white-hot feeling that someone hasn’t made me feel in quite some time quickly approaches. Deep in the pit of my stomach, it bubbles as my body tenses, breath shallow and quick. It builds and builds until all I want to hear him say is Come for me, darling. I know you’re so close. But I know he won’t. He has to stick to the matter at hand. 
With a sharp inhale, I moan and whimper, euphoria washing over me as my thighs tighten around his head. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this good. He’s incredibly talented—like I said, he’s an all or nothing kinda guy and I love that about him. 
“Fuck. Oh my god,” I gasp, my hips rolling needing more, more, more. Goddamn, I’m in trouble. “Holy shit.” I trail off, my breathing shallow. My eyes squeeze shut as my head drops back before my body starts flinching. “Thank you, Sir.”
My body goes slack as he slows down. Once I catch my breath, my eyes flutter open to see him looking at me with a cheeky smirk. He’s so fucking smug. 
“Sir?” 
Shit. That is just about the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve been correcting myself for weeks, reminding myself to call him Prince Yeonjun, Your Majesty, Sir. I know he hates when I call him that, even in normal scenarios. I can’t imagine how mad he is now that I’ve called him that while giving me an orgasm. Not just any orgasm, though. One of the best I’ve had in months. All while wearing our formal wear too. Fuck, he looks so sexy in his uniform. Especially with it slightly disheveled, hair messy, gloves off. 
“It must’ve slipped.”
He simply stands, darkness and lust still in his eyes as his hands grip my hips, squeezing harshly before moving them up further to my waist. His right hand trails up even higher, cupping my face to force my ear to line up with his lips. “Call me that again next time.” Next time? There’s gonna be a next time? “Got it?”
Speechless, I compose myself before whispering, “Yes, Sir.”  
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cw. cunnilingus, mentions of previous bjs and hand jobs, mira is described as chubby/fat/curvy in a good way, hickeys, biting, masturbation.
YEONJUN'S POV
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“Mira,” I say simply as she walks by me looking gorgeous as always. Since our little rendezvous in the butler’s closet last month, we’ve “seen” each other several times since, each meeting ending with at least one of us coming. Nothing beyond oral and hand stuff—we still haven’t kissed or seen each other fully naked yet—but even so, it’s been amazing. She’s so good at it all. The teasing, the touching, the talking, all of it. I don’t think I can pick a favorite moment.
Maybe when she asked me to give her hickeys on the inside of her thighs. Her whispering, Give me hickeys, please…wanna look down and imagine you’re there after you’re gone. Oof. Chills. 
Or maybe when she laid her back against my chest and I rubbed her clit so perfectly, she dug her nails into my forearm for dear life, so hard it broke skin. I had to wear long sleeves for three days. 
Perhaps her seeing my cock for the first time, eyes wide as she said Oh my god, Sir. You have a beautiful cock. No one’s ever called me beautiful before, let alone my dick. That made me giddier than I even thought possible. 
“Yeon—Sir,” she quickly corrects herself in case anyone’s listening. Glancing around, we’re the only ones nearby. “You look nice. New uniform jacket?” I nod. 
Tonight’s occasion is much less grand than our first night together. A simple gathering with a few royals. It was the high-stakes donors I was hoping to get some money from tonight, but they’re all donationed-out it seems. 
“You look…” I look over her, never subtle about ogling her. “Absolutely stunning. New dress?” She subtly tilts her head. I stuff my hands in my pockets. What’s the point of delaying it any more? “I need to taste you again.”
“Already? You ate me out yesterday.”
“What can I say?” I chuckle. “I’ve got a craving.” She takes a deep breath before nodding at me, not changing her facial expression. “Closet, five minutes?” 
The closet isn’t the only place we’ve had our meetings but it is definitely our most frequented spot. Honorable mentions include the library, the sunroom, and under the willow tree where she laid back against me. That was only once but it was magical. 
As she turns away, I can’t help but wonder what the rest of her looks like. She’s got what feels like the most perfect ass, but I still haven’t gotten a good look at it. And her tits…good lord what I’d give to bury my face between her bare tits. 
“Prince Yeonjun?”
“Ah, Prince Sipho,” I say, returning his bow. “Nice to see you again.” He holds his hands behind him and maintains his intimidating eye contact. “I hope you’re enjoying dinner.”
“Can I ask for a favor?” He asks, almost urgently. 
“Sure.”
“I saw you were talking to Charlotte,” he says. “I danced with her last month and I never got her phone number.” His expression softens. “I realize how awkward and potentially inappropriate this is considering she’s on your staff. Would you mind providing me with her phone number?”
“I’m sorry,” I begin. “I don’t think I know a Charlotte.”
“You were just speaking with her,” he says matter-of-factly. “Right over there.” He tilts his head in the direction of…Mira? Happily prancing off in the direction of the closet. Our closet. Oh no. 
I suppose I should’ve seen this coming. Someone was bound to be interested in her at some point. I just didn’t think my competition would be another handsome prince. What am I saying? Competition? Stop being such an ass.
“You can ask her yourself, you know.” 
“Fair enough.”
“I don’t think now’s a good time though,” I rush to say, stopping him in his tracks before he turns around. “She’s busy. I just sent her to do a task.”
“Then I suppose you should give me her number now, then?”
After a few seconds of awkward silence, I finally speak up to say, “I’ll talk to her first. You know, make sure she’s comfortable with me giving out her phone number.”
“Of course.” He tilts his head and walks away. My mind races with questions. Did he sweep her off her feet? Have they slept together? Or worse: have they kissed? Why does he think her name is Charlotte? But I’ve gotta get back to the matter at hand.
“You’re already ready for me, hm?” I ask, seeing her proudly sitting on the countertop, waiting for me. She nods cutely, wiggling her feet back and forth. Locking the door, I take my gloves off one finger at a time before stuffing them in my pocket for safe keeping. Then I loosen my collar a bit, something I know she thinks is hot, so I always make a show out of it just for her. 
As I step closer, she grips the edge of the counter so tightly the veins on the back of her hand pop out. She crosses her ankles and looks down briefly but puts on a brave face to stare me in the eye. Wrapping my arms around her, I bury my face in her neck and breathe her in. 
“You smell so good.” I’ve noticed she’s started wearing a specific perfume for special occasions—the gala last month, dinners like these, she even wore it once when she shyly asked me to eat her out again on a random Tuesday. 
“Thank you, Sir.” Never taking my lips off her neck, I feel all over her, albeit over her dress, but she feels lovely. Dropping to my knees, I lift her skirt up to access her thighs with my lips, placing kisses everywhere. And there they are—those gorgeous hickeys I gave her last week. Still there. I swipe my thumb across one before biting her skin gently.
“Can I ask you something?” She hums as I move closer and closer to her center. Glancing up at her, her eyelids have fluttered shut and her hands are in my hair. “Do you know Prince Sipho?” Her hands stop.
“I know of him,” she says plainly. “Why?”
“No reason,” I say, nudging her thigh with my nose to encourage her to open wider. I add, “Said he danced with you and I guess he likes you.” I place a kiss on the outside of her thong right between her pussy lips. “Asked me for your phone number.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“No.”
“...Oh.” She leans back, resting her hands behind her back for support. Is that a good oh or a bad oh?
“He thinks your name’s Charlotte though.” I chuckle. “What’s that about?”
“I don’t know,” she says awkwardly while I dig my fingers into her thong, pulling it down her legs, still watching her body language carefully. “That’s weird.” 
“Mira.”
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, but still welcomes my lips around her pussy. “I dunno—I wasn’t interested so I gave him a fake name. Doesn’t everyone do that?”
“Mm…I suppose,” I say, spreading her lips to flick my tongue against her clit. Fuck, she tastes amazing. Every fucking time. Her hand flies to my hair again, taking quick breaths. “Why wouldn’t you be interested in him?” 
“Can we not talk about Prince Sipho while you’re eating me out, please?”
“I was just curious.” 
Why wouldn’t she be interested, though? He’s definitely her type—tall, handsome, smart, royal. 
Images of them dancing together, arms wrapped around each other, his hand sliding further down her back make my vision red. 
Maybe she’s interested in someone else with those same qualities, perhaps even more devastatingly handsome than him. And hilarious, might I add. 
But thinking about her dancing with Sipho while thinking about me makes me giddy. When else does she think about me? When she’s eating breakfast? Doing her chores? Getting ready to go to bed? In the shower? When she touches herself? Oh. That sends shivers down my spine. 
“How often do you think about me, Mira?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when do you think about me?”
She takes a deep breath, letting her head fall back against the wall, the slightest smile flashing over her lips before she says, “When I’m horny.”
“So you think about me when you touch yourself?” 
Her fingers stop again and she looks up, eyes wide like I caught her doing something she shouldn’t have been. I’d never let her see it, but I’m giggling on the inside. She’s so cute. 
“Um,” she clears her throat. “I guess, yeah.” There’s a looming awkward silence while I keep licking her. She’s trying not to react to how good it feels. Trying not to give in. 
“Well, go on.”
“What?” Mira asks. 
“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me exactly what you think about.” She takes a deep breath to collect herself, like she’s trying to hold back her noises and movements. I don’t like that she feels the need to do that with me. If anything, I crave hearing and feeling them. “It’s okay, you can tell me anything.”
Her breath hitches, eyes flitting away before locking back to mine. "I think about you touching me," she admits quietly, but I can tell she’s gaining confidence. "The way you did the first time.” She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. "I think about your hands on my body," she continues. "The way you knew exactly where to touch me, how to make me feel..."
"How to make you feel what?" I prompt, my hands gently caressing her thighs, urging her to keep going while my mouth is nowhere near her pussy.
"How to make me feel good," she breathes out, her eyes closing as she loses herself in the memory and the feeling of my tongue on her clit. 
“Do you miss it? ” I ask, my breath hot against her skin. "Do you miss me when I’m gone and can’t make you feel good?”
She nods, her breath sharp and quick. "Yes," she murmurs, her voice trembling with desire. "I miss it so much." My hands continue to explore her body, relearning every curve and contour, desperate to rip this dress off her, but we haven’t crossed that boundary yet. 
"What else do you think about?" I ask, my voice a gentle command.
“The way you taste.”
"And how do I taste?" I ask, my lips ghosting over her skin, teasing her with the promise of more.
"Salty," she whispers, her voice hitching. I can’t tell if she means— “That’s a good thing.” I smile against her skin, relieved while my hands squeeze her thighs. “But I mostly think about your mouth. How good you are at this. Those hickeys you gave me have certainly come in handy.” 
“How so?” I slide two fingers inside her and her breath gets quicker. 
Groaning, she says, “Looking down at them turns me on so much.” She swipes her hand across them. “Thinking about us sneaking around like this. It makes me feel…dirty.” She giggles. “Is that cheesy?” I shake my head and start licking her clit again. “They need to stop assigning me tasks while you’re around.” I hum in question. “The other day they made me clean the studio while you were in your pottery lesson—why it couldn’t wait, I don’t know—but it was too much,” she says. “Watching you with your sleeves pushed up, your hands on the clay, oh my god, you were so hot. You had me hot and bothered all day long.”
I genuinely had no idea. She does a great job of hiding that. Little does she know, I was stealing glances of her that whole lesson—I don’t remember a single word my instructor said. The only thing I was looking at was her body, her curvy thighs, full breasts, squishy tummy, the greatest ass I’ve ever seen and I haven’t even seen it bare yet. “What did you do afterward?”
She hesitates, tensing up, holding back. “I don’t wanna say.”
I stop in my tracks. “Tell me.”
“No,” she whines. “Don’t make me.” Refusing to speak or look down at me, I pull away from her, looking at her like, I’m not gonna keep going until you tell me. With an insatiable eye roll, she finally speaks up, “I thought about you.” I look at her again like, That’s not enough and you know it. “Fine,” she says. Of course, if this truly bothered her, she knows our safe word. Tapping her fingers on the counter before bashfully looking away, she admits, “I thought about you while I touched myself.”
Satisfied, I give her a kitten lick on her clit, making her gasp. 
“I, uh…I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, at the hickeys you gave me.” I start licking more and more, rewarding her for talking. “I thought about what it would look like if someone walked in on us while you did this to me. Or what someone would think if they saw the hickeys you gave me.”
Her hips start to roll and I know I can’t speak anymore. Because that would mean taking my mouth off her pussy, which neither of us want. Instead, my grip on the fat of her thighs gets harsher and I stay steady with my mouth, knowing this is the exact speed and pressure she needs. 
“I thought about you ripping my dress off but then slowing down to take my thong and bra off,” she says. Well, that’s new. We’ve never mentioned anything further than this. Does she want something more than this? 
“About you pressing your bare chest against mine,” she adds breathlessly. “You licking my tits.” Her thoughts and words start speeding up, like she’s telling me not to stop no matter what. “You tapping my clit with your cock.” Oh my god. She wants to do things like that with me? Fuck. I can’t show how giddy that makes me, not right now at least. 
Her hands hold onto my hair for dear life. Her moans pitch up and increase speed, like a chant, getting louder and louder. “You fucking me from behind,” she says. “Fucking me so good I can hardly take it.” She’s so close. “Until—until…” She's panting, clearly right on the verge of reaching her orgasm. “I’m coming so good for you,” she whispers breathlessly. I can feel it when her thighs tremble, when her clit pulsates against my tongue, when her nails dig into my scalp. 
Catching her breath after she comes, she finishes off with a sweet, “Thank you, Sir.”
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cw. more yeonjun environmental activist, suggestive, cheesy idk. 
MIRA'S POV
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“I can’t believe you did this,” I spit at Yeonjun, messily packing my old beat up carry-on. He refolds one of my t-shirts and hands it to me. 
“I thought you’d be excited to go.” 
Scoffing, I put a fist on my hip and face him. “I’m going as your servant.” He rolls his eyes before shoving his hands in his pockets. “All the other servants already think there’s something going on between us. Requesting me for your dumb business trip is gonna look suspicious.”
“Dumb?” He’s visibly offended. “This is an important business trip for me.”
“Still. They won’t shut up about this for months and you know it.”
“I thought you said there was nothing to talk about,” he says smugly, but I ignore him. “Look, I knew you wouldn’t act all servant-y the whole time, okay? Mother insists I take someone, but I’m a grown-up. I can do things on my own,” he says. “I knew you would be…normal, I don’t know. You wouldn’t curtsy, be on edge, or call me Sir.”
I stop in my tracks to look him in the eye and ask, “Except for when you want me to, right?” I hadn’t thought about what we might do at the hotel while we’re gone. Would he invite me to his room so he could taste me? Would he surprise me with a knock on my door? Would he text me to meet him somewhere else? I don’t know but I admit I’m excited to find out. 
The next morning, I hoist my suitcase into the trunk of the town car while the chauffeur, Eston, opens the door for me. I’m greeted with a sleepy “Morning,” from Yeonjun as he hands me a travel mug full of coffee that I didn’t ask for, but I’m definitely grateful for. 
“We’re taking the same car?”
“Of course,” he says. “Less cars on the road.”
Oh my god, he looks so cute with his sleepy eyes and messy hair. Although he flies commercial everywhere he goes, he wears every disguise possible: hat, face mask, hoodie with the hood up, you name it. We get to go through security privately though, which is nice. 
After our long flight, I want nothing more than to crash into a nice, warm bed—actually, any bed will do. It’s still light, but it’s evening and I’m ready to go to bed early. While he handles check-in, I scroll through my phone—international data plan paid for by the Queen, thank you very much. 
On the elevator, I ask , “Which floor am I on?” 
“Seven.” I nod, reaching for the seven button on the elevator, but it only goes up to six. There’s only one above it, which is labeled ‘Penthouse.’
Wait. “Did you only get one room?”
“Well…”
“Yeonjun!” I scream-whisper. “What is wrong with you? What did you think—”
He holds his hands up to clarify, “It has two rooms, okay? I wasn’t trying to…I dunno, make anything happen. It seemed easier.” 
The room is truly magnificent. Luxurious gold silk drapes frame the windows to let light flood the room. Sofas and armchairs surround a marble fireplace—cozy yet regal, just how Yeonjun likes it. An intricately carved coffee table sits in the middle of the room holding a vase of fresh flowers. There’s even a piano sitting in the corner. 
The view from the terrace takes my breath away. The gorgeous blues of Lake Geneva and the snow-capped alps are gorgeous. The air is crisp and clean and refreshes my lungs from the inside out. I lean on the railing, letting the cool breeze brush against my face as calmness washes over me.
“Gorgeous, huh?” Yeonjun asks as he stands beside me, his eyes scanning the horizon. 
“This is fucking incredible,” I say, my gaze never waiving from the beauty of the landscape. 
“I knew you’d like it,” he says. I glance over at him and he gives me a warm smile. 
“You’ve been here?”
“I’ve never stayed in this hotel, but I’ve been to Geneva, yes.” 
There’s a silence. Like we both know we want to do something, but we’re unsure of exactly what. Go in for a hug? No. Let him wrap his arm around me? No. Kiss him? Absolutely not. We can’t fall into that relationship space. The tension presses down on us, unspoken but palpable.
“Well, I’m exhausted,” he says, breaking the silence. “Did you wanna take a shower first or…?” 
“You can go ahead,” I say as I walk through the room, planning to unpack a bit first. Extending my suitcase’s handle, I ask, “Where’s the other room?” He grimaces, avoiding my gaze. “What?”
“Don’t be mad,” he starts, but I’m already visibly mad. “I must’ve looked at the website wrong.” I brace for the inevitable while he braces for my reaction. “This is it.”
“Seriously, Yeonjun? One bed?.” This is not gonna turn into a cheesy only-one-bed-left story. Nope. I won’t let it. “You better get me another room.”
“I already called and they’re out.” I’m fuming. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says. My face softens. I didn’t necessarily want that. “Really, it’s okay.”
“Yeonjun,” I say, guilt in my voice. 
“Mira, it’s fine. Really. It was my mistake, so I’ll take the couch.” 
“Okay,” I say. “I guess you can’t do stuff on your own, then, huh?”
-
The next morning, I wake up in this giant bed. Alone. The smell of coffee is already wafting through the air. Stretching under the covers, I sit up to see Yeonjun on the terrace, reading a newspaper. Not on his phone—a literal printed newspaper. I don't even know where he got it. 
An adorable little prince sitting there with his luxurious silk PJs, fuzzy slippers, messy hair, and the cutest pair of glasses anyone’s ever seen. Before joining him, I pull a hoodie over my tank top.
“Aren’t I supposed to get you your coffee?” I ask, admiring the view of the lake. 
“When you wake up on time, yes,” he says, not looking up from his paper while he pushes up his glasses. 
“I…I’m sorry,” I say, forcing myself back into my professional persona. 
“No, it’s okay,” he chuckles, sitting his coffee on the coaster and looking at me. “I wasn’t trying to be bossy. You seemed like you needed sleep. And I can get my own coffee,” he says. “Besides, today is a day off. You can get me coffee tomorrow.” I nod. “Did you have plans today?”
“I dunno…maybe I’ll draw by the lake or something.” 
“I’m kayaking on the lake and having a picnic lunch if you want to join me,” he suggests. “You can bring your sketchbook.”
-
The lake shimmers like a bed of gems, crystal-clear waters reflecting the sunlight in brilliant shades of blue. As we paddle alongside each other, our rowing is rhythmic until we reach a small pebbled shore on the other side of the lake.
Yeonjun jumps out first, standing up in the water to pull his kayak to shore. He’s so charming with his crocs and shorts short enough to expose his muscular thighs. The t-shirt he’s got on is somehow the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him wear, perfectly accentuating his pecs and clinging to his biceps. And the cutest lake hat sits on his head, making me absolutely giddy. 
Without having to ask, he pulls my kayak in so I don’t need to step in the water or pull it up myself. He offers his hand to me with a smile, my fingers lingering a bit too long after I stand to my feet. 
While I set up the blanket on the pebbled shore, I ask, “What’s tomorrow’s meeting about?”
His eyes light up while he unpacks our picnic. "Tomorrow's meeting is with the Global Environment Facility," he begins, settling back against the kayak, pouring some juice into two glasses. "We're discussing several things, but we’ll be focusing on keeping our water clean.” He tilts his head toward the sparkling Lake Geneva in front of us, its pristine waters a reminder of the importance of this endeavor. "Access to clean water is a fundamental human right," he says passionately. “But there’s so much…crap in them. You know 26% of the world doesn’t have access to safe drinking water?” My eyes widen. “And so many beautiful oceans and rivers and lakes like this one keep getting trashed.” 
His dedication is contagious, and I find myself leaning in, captivated by his words. "It's more than policies and proposals," he continues. "It's about creating real, tangible changes that will protect our planet.” He smiles, a mix of determination and hope in his expression. "I mean, I dunno…it’s a big goal I guess,” he says, glancing down in embarrassment. 
“Seems like you’re actually doing something about it.”
“We’re at least trying to make change happen.”
Sitting on the blanket, I fest my legs out in front of me with my hands supporting me from behind. He hands me a glass while he sits criss-cross next to me. “You seem really passionate about it,” I say. 
“I am,” he nods.
A comfortable silence settles over us as we enjoy our meal. Afterward, he takes his book out of his backpack, reclining back to rest his head against the kayak. I take out my sketchbook and pencils, setting it up against my knees and thighs. 
I try to focus on capturing the serenity of the lake, but my eyes keep drifting to him. His presence is so comforting and I’m reminded of that every time we’re alone like this. Watching him, I can’t help but think about what it would feel like to rest my cheek against his chest. Warm. Strong. Safe. 
“Yeonjun?”
“Hm?” He looks up at me from under his hat, but I don’t know what to say. After a few seconds of silence, he sits up completely and asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I stutter, returning to my drawing. 
An hour or so passes—I’ve made great progress on my drawing and it seems like he made a nice dent in his book, but the sun’s setting fast. 
“We should probably go soon,” he notes. “We shouldn’t kayak in the dark and it’ll probably take an hour to get back.”
-
“Everything okay?” Yeonjun asks, startling me on the terrace. I hum, avoiding looking at him. He looks too good after showers—hair damp and skin pink from the hot water—so I better not take a peek. I’ve clipped my wet hair up—it holds its waves better that way. 
“I’m finishing up this drawing I started at the lake. Adding some watercolor.” 
“Is that me?” He asks, pulling the other seat around to sit next to me. 
“Yeah,” I nod awkwardly. “I just drew what I saw.” I say, giving in and glancing at him while he smiles to himself as he examines the art. 
Seconds pass before he adds, “I had a lot of fun today.”
“Me too,” I say, my arms crossed. He’s so, so close to me. 
“Yeah?” I hum. “Since you showed me this,” he says, gesturing to the drawing. “I’ll show you this picture I took of you,” he says, reaching for his phone in his pocket. Leaning even closer to me, I feel his warmth. I must say I look pretty. My hair’s windswept, I have a nice pink in my cheeks, and I look genuinely happy looking out over the water. His fingers mindlessly touch mine while he looks at me. “Thank you for coming with me,” he says. “You know, on the picnic.”
“No worries,” I say. 
“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he says, not moving an inch. Oh my god, he looks so kissable right now. I can’t believe how long we’ve gone without kissing each other even once. I didn’t think we’d last one week after we started…whatever we’re doing. Hooking up? 
Regardless, I’m relieved. We should not be starting something right now. He’s my boss. My boss and my ex that broke my heart. 
But we’re leaning in closer and closer, like we’re about to—don’t you dare. I catch myself first. 
“You can, uh…you can sleep in the bed with me if you want,” I whisper. He shakes his head and starts to protest. “Really, it’s okay. Swear. It’s a huge bed.”
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cw. brief mention of the death of a grandparent, yeonjun environmental activist, eating food.
YEONJUN'S POV
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As I make my way toward the grand conference hall, the weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. Today's meeting is a pivotal moment in my advocacy work and I need to be right on. I love this though. Speaking for what I believe in. Convincing people. And admittedly, sounding smart, which I am.
Glancing over my shoulder, Mira follows close behind me, which is what she’s meant to be doing. It still sends shivers down my spine. Our return to our professional roles after our idyllic kayaking excursion feels strange, but duty calls and we both have our parts to play. I square my shoulders and quicken my pace, the marble floors echoing under my feet. 
With a final glance back at Mira, she offers an encouraging smile and asks, “Ready?” I take a deep breath. “You’re gonna be great.” She opens the door and I step into the grandeur of the conference room. The air is charged with energy, a palpable sense of purpose radiating throughout the room. 
Taking my place at the head of the table, pride and excitement surges through me. This is it—the moment I’ve been preparing for, the chance to make a real difference.
-
Coming back home—hotel room—I’m exhausted but exhilarated. As I’m about to collapse onto the couch, a knock at the living room entryway wakes me up. 
“You hungry?” Mira asks, flipping through the room service menu. 
“Order whatever you like.”
“What would you like?”
“Anything’s fine. I’m not picky.”
After she places the order on the phone, we chat about the meeting a bit, but it isn’t long before the conversation gets lighter. We laugh about our kayaking adventure yesterday, recalling the near-disaster when I almost tripped into the water face first. The room service arrives promptly, and we dig into our meal. 
"So, tell me," she says between bites of her spaghetti, "what got you interested in environmental advocacy in the first place?"
I lean back, chewing the bite of pizza in thought. "I guess it started when I was a kid. You remember how much I loved nature even back then.” She nods. “Whenever I got stressed, I’d go outside—you know, for a walk, camping, whatever, and one day, I looked around and only saw wealthy people and it was one of those moments where I realized how lucky I am,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “Access to nature is a fundamental human right. It’s already inaccessible to many and it’s only getting worse.”
She nods. “It's easy to take it for granted.”
“It was something I’d never thought about,” I chuckle. “I was a fucking prick back then.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, a little too easily. She’s not wrong though.
“As I got older, I started to see the impact of pollution and climate change. I knew I had to do something, even if it was just a small part."
We continue talking late into the night, sharing stories and dreams, discovering new facets of each other's personalities. It’s in these quiet moments I cherish that I get to see some real parts of her, like in the garden, when she painted my portrait, when we went kayaking. 
“What’s something you’re passionate about?” I ask. She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Nah, come on, you gotta be passionate about something.” Shrugging, she shakes her head. “How about your art?”
Smiling to herself, she asks, “What about it?”
“Why are you an artist?”
She leans back, tracing patterns of the fabric on the couch with her finger. "This is cheesy but when I look around, I see colors, shapes, emotions. When I draw or paint or whatever, it's like I'm putting pieces together, creating something whole. It’s not about making something beautiful, but capturing a moment or a feeling, things I can’t say out loud,” she says, glancing around the room bashfully. “Or whatever.”
“Not or whatever. You need to give yourself more credit.”
She nods shyly, looking down with a grin. "I remember this painting I did. It was of an old barn, you know, out of town a bit. Everyone thought it was just a pretty picture of decay. But it was about resilience, how even in decay, there’s a story that refuses to be forgotten, even if it can’t speak for itself or if no one’s listening but me.” I nod. “That’s what I really love. Finding those moments that only a few people notice. It’s like saying, ‘Hey, I see you and I feel this too.’” That’s amazing. She’s never spoken so candidly like this with me before. “Like when you asked if I was gonna paint your freckle and your birthmark, like, of course I am! That’s a part of you and I see you, you know?”
I chuckle with her. “Do you have a favorite piece?”
She thinks for a moment. “Probably a painting I did of my grandmother’s hands. She was a seamstress, and her hands were always so busy, always creating. When she wasn’t sewing, she was sketching, measuring, creating patterns. It was my way of honoring her, capturing her essence. Her hands have so many stories to tell.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “She was the one person in my family I really wanted you to meet back then.”
“Invite her over for dinner some time,” I suggest. 
“She, uh,” She clears her throat. “She passed a couple years ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” She waves her hand. “I would’ve loved to have met her.”
“It’s okay.” But her eyes are tearing up just a bit. She blinks them away and adds, “She meant so much to me, but I guess that’s…how things go.”
“Where’s that painting now?”
“It’s back home, like, my home home, not the castle.” 
“I’d love to see it.”
“I’ll find it the next time I go back home and bring it back with me.” As the conversation winds down, we sit in comfortable silence as the city lights cast a soft glow through the window. "I should probably let you get some rest," Mira says, breaking the silence.
I nod, feeling a pang of reluctance. "Yeah, we have another busy day tomorrow."
She stands up, but before she leaves, she turns to me, her expression gentle. "Goodnight, Yeonjun. And thank you for tonight. It was nice to just...talk."
"It was,” I reply. “Let's do it again sometime."
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cw. cunnilingus, protected sex, mira’s body is described as squishy/chubby in a good way, mention of moles and vvv brief mention of armpits, toys, body worship, masturbation, pet names (darling, love, babe, baby).
YEONJUN'S POV
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After another grueling meeting, I’ve ditched my tie and unbuttoned a few of my shirt buttons while Mira has completely changed into lounge clothes back at the hotel room. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense her watching me, leaning up against the wall. But I let it slide. I don’t think she realizes how often she does it. 
“How did today’s meeting go?” She asks. 
“You were there.”
“I know, but how did it go from your perspective?”
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events fresh in my mind. "It was intense," I start, a mix of relief and excitement in my voice. "We covered a lot of ground. Like I said, we talked about keeping waters clean.”
“Did you all come up with any new ideas?"
"Actually, yes," I say, a spark of enthusiasm igniting. "We talked about implementing advanced watershed management and enhancing wastewater treatment technologies. But what really stood out was the proposal for a global initiative to reduce industrial runoff. It's ambitious, but the potential impact is huge."
She nods, clearly intrigued. "Was everyone on board?"
"For the most part," I reply, recalling the lively debates. "There were a few moments of contention, especially when it came to funding, so I’ll be doing a lot of fundraising for awhile, but everyone agreed they seem like good ideas.”
Mira's smile is warm and encouraging. "I'm glad it went well.” Her words, simple yet heartfelt, warm me up. She finally pipes up again to add, “You looked hot up there.” 
I chuckle. “Yeah?” She nods. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she starts, walking closer to me. “How smart and passionate you are. That’s hot.” That is exactly what I was hoping she’d say. I kept catching myself stealing glances of her during the meetings. It was hard to tell if she was looking at me to look at me or because that’s technically her job. Even if it is her job, I can tell between her different looks—her checking in look, her secretly admiring me look, and her I need you and I need you now look, which might be my favorite.
The look she’s got on her face is starting to lean toward that last one, but she’s not quite there yet. I only observe, let her fall into that place if she wants to.
“Well, thank you,” I tilt my head in her direction before the piano behind her catches my attention. “You know, I’ve been taking piano lessons.” She hums. Sometimes I forget it's also her job to know everything about me—everything about my schedule and activities at least. “You still like classical music, right?” She nods gently, a slight smile constantly on her lips. 
I’m not the best at piano, so I start fumbling through Moonlight Sonata. Giggling through every wrong note, she brushes some hair away from my face. 
“Ah, I need the sheet music,” I say quietly. Wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs, I know she’s still staring at me with look number three: I need you and I need you now. All professionalism has gone out the window. The biker shorts she’s wearing outlines her stomach perfectly, her thighs barely bulge at the hem, and her tank top accentuates her breasts beautifully. She’s a stunner. 
I reach for her hand and drag my thumb across her knuckles. My hands rest against the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer so she steps between my legs, my hand moving to her backside, squeezing her so deliciously. Her hands rest on my shoulders as I bury my nose between her breasts, taking a deep breath. She always smells so goddamn amazing. 
“I need you,” she whispers as her fingertips drag across my scalp. 
“I know, darling.”
“No,” she chuckles. “I need more from you this time,” she says breathlessly. I stand up straight, looking down at her as she looks at me through her eyelashes. “I need you inside me. Please.” 
“Of course,” I say, diving straight for her lips, but she turns her head, so my lips crash into her cheek. 
“Did I say you could kiss me?” Picking her up, I let my face rest in her chest again as I carry her to the bed, praying I don’t trip over anything along the way. As I sit her down on the mattress, she says, “Kiss me everywhere but my mouth, okay? Everywhere.” 
I don’t wanna argue with the no kissing rule right now, so I simply nod, covering her neck with kisses while I tug her shorts off her legs. Holding her leg by her ankle, I press my lips to it, trailing it all the way up to her thigh while her hand slips under her thong. I’m looking over her body, closing my eyes for a few seconds at a time, but I can feel her eyes on me. 
“Everywhere, babe,” she reminds me. Babe? I decide not to mention it—don’t ruin the moment. I slowly lift her shirt, but she gets impatient and takes it off herself, throwing it somewhere before tugging at the hem of mine, hinting at me to ditch it. 
My lips land right above her bra, kissing and nipping the tops of her breasts. I literally can’t wait to see her completely, so I waste no time in snapping it off and taking a second to admire her. Then, I gently kiss her neck and feel her whole body with my hands. Warm, soft, welcoming, curvy, squishy, perfect. 
When I squeeze her tit for the first time, she moans, arching her back while I sloppily stamp her collarbone with my lips. I want nothing more than to lick her nipples—it’s all I’ve thought about for the last few days—but…I dunno. I’m nervous. 
“Jjun…please,” she starts. There’s that nickname. It made my heart sing when she accidentally called me that a couple months ago. It used to slip past her lips so easily when we were together all those years ago, but now she stays so formal. “Lick my nipples, please.” 
Tongue flicking her nipple, her eyes roll back as her body follows. As I kiss further down her body toward her tummy, she reaches for my hair and pulls, making both our breath quicken. She takes the liberty of taking off her own thong and I get rid of my pants. 
We’ve been desperate for this. Desperate to actually feel each other’s bodies. Not clothing-clad bodies, but bare, vulnerable, warm bodies that want each other. And I can’t get enough. I thought I could taste her forever, but now that I’ve gotten my hands on her, on her squishy, chubby body, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off her.
She starts to get impatient, but I’m not finished with her yet. Landing back on top of her, I say, “Lemme just…kiss on ya for a second, okay?”
“Not my—”
“Not your mouth, I know,” I say, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, trailing down her jaw and sneaking in to nuzzle her neck. Whispering into her ear, I tell her, “I love making you gasp like that.” She chuckles, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, but I grab them and put them over her head to continue kissing her everywhere, tasting each bit of her with the tip of my tongue before pressing my lips to her. Her collarbone, her shoulders, her underarms. Everywhere.
She’s got the cutest mole on her side of her breast I kiss three times before moving on. 
A smile tugs at the corners of her lips when I gently kiss under her breasts. I lick a stripe up her chest between them, making eye contact with her, followed by a harsh bite of one of them. Reaching for her arm, I kiss her palm, then gently suck on the tip of her pointer finger. 
“Remember when you painted that portrait of me?”
“How could I forget?”
“When you put this pinky on my face,” I say, sucking on the tip of it. “I thought I was gonna explode. Feeling you so close to me like that. You looked so pretty that day too. With the sun shining in through the window and the plants around you.” Okay, shut up dork, too many feelings. I squeeze her tits harshly, burying my face in them. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.” 
Rubbing up and down her sides, she scrunches her shoulders, letting out a giggle. I kiss and bite her tummy—I’ve always loved her stomach, but especially so when she wears biker shorts. The way the fabric pulls, creating an outline of her tummy with rays of fabric going toward her hips. It’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. And to finally see her bare tummy right here in front of me, there’s no way I’m not gonna cover it in kisses. 
“Why are you being all touchy?”
Why wouldn’t I be? Spreading her lips, she looks absolutely delicious. I lick her clit, earning one of the most gorgeous moans I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth. 
“I told you, Sir,” she says. “I want all of you this time.” 
“I know. I’m just tasting you, darling.” I glance up at her. “You thought I was gonna fuck you and not taste you first?” 
Grinding against my mouth, she can hardly take it before she starts begging. “Please, please, please, Yeonjun. I need your cock inside me. Please. I need it so bad.” 
“You’ve never had to beg like this before, hm?”
“Nope,” she says. “People usually do what I ask.” Standing, I leave her briefly for a condom that’s in my toiletries bag in the bathroom. When I come back, she asks, “Prepared, huh?” I nod awkwardly. “Wait, wait,” she stops me from rolling the condom down myself. “Let me see you.” I stand back, letting her look at me in awe before she reaches her hands out, rubbing all over my chest and stomach, kissing my hips, squeezing my balls and licking my nipple, making me gasp. 
Taking a deep breath, I admit, “I want to fuck you so bad, Mira.”
Sitting up on her knees, she reaches for my hand and places it on her breast before leaning into my ear to whisper, “Then fuck me, Sir.” Then, she takes the condom and rolls it down my cock, drawing out the process as long as she possibly can. “Your cock is so fucking beautiful,” she says. “I’m still not over it.”
She lays on her back and spreads her legs while I think of all the things I wanna do to her. I really wanna kiss her, but I can’t. She’s right. We shouldn’t. Resting between her legs, I rub my hands over her body again, taking my time contemplating, even if she protests, claiming I’m teasing her too much. But she teased me, so now I get to tease her. 
Honestly, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought we’d never get past oral in the closet. I line myself up with her entrance, bending to press my lips to her neck and whisper, “Are you sure?” 
“Yeonjun,” she says, placing a hand on my cheek to force me to look at her. “I’m sure. Are you sure?” 
“Absolutely.” 
As I push into her slowly, my whole world comes crumbling down around me. She is perfection. The way she wraps around me like a warm blanket, her eyes full of pleasure sparkling up at mine, the noises she’s making. Nothing else matters anymore but her. 
She breathes out like she’s relieved and says, “I’ve been waiting for this for seven years.” My head reels. Our arms wrap around each other as I find a slow and steady pace. Everything is her. She fits right in my arms as her nails claw at my back and her legs wrap around my waist to make sure I won't go anywhere, which I won’t. But I need to see the way her body moves. 
Sitting up, I stare down at her, pumping in and out, her tits bouncing with every move I make. Finding her clit with my thumb, the noise she makes in response is intoxicating. She arches her back, squeezing her own tit, which is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
“That’s my girl.” Can I call her that? I don’t care. I’m going to. 
She giggles and scratches my thigh, whispering, “You feel so good. Faster?” And I can’t help but comply, speeding up my thrusts but maintaining control. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up though. I want…need to go faster and she’s asking me to, but I also want to take things slow, be with her forever. “Faster, please,” she almost sounds like she’s in tears. 
I don’t go much faster, though. This has to be perfect. I can’t be too much. But—
“Hey, stop for a second,” she says genuinely and I oblige, slipping out of her to sit back on my knees. She sits up and reaches for my hands. “Come here,” she says, pulling me closer so our chests are grazing each other’s. “Are you okay?” I nod enthusiastically. “It seems like you’re holding back.” 
“I just…you feel so good and I don’t wanna get carried away. And I don’t know your, like, limits.”
“You can fuck me so hard—no, I want you to fuck me so hard. You don’t have to hold back, okay?” She reaches down and squeezes my cock, waiting for a reaction from me. “I’ve been waiting for this cock and I need you to fuck me and don’t stop until I’m begging you to.” She smiles. “Unless you ever wanna stop, of course.” I nod. “Did you wanna take it slow?”
Without giving my brain time to process, I flip her onto her stomach, yanking her up by her hips so she’s on her knees, ass up. I gather her hair in a makeshift ponytail before thrusting into her so hard it takes her breath away. She feels indescribable—a radiating ache overcomes me and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go after this. 
My thrusts reach a speed finally fast enough for her as she’s whimpering on my cock, shuddering from the feeling of me buried deep inside her. The room fills with the sound of my thighs smacking her ass, making ripples roll down her cheeks. My hand tingles wanting to spank her, but that’s a bit much, no? But she said not to hold back.
I decide to indulge myself, spanking her harshly, my hand making a loud smack, earning an irresistible moan from her. She whispers, “Thank you.”
“Thank you, who?”
“Thank you, Sir,” she whimpers. I spank her again, rubbing it to soothe the sting. I’m fucking her so fast and hard that we’re both sweating, skin getting sticky and slick. Pushing on the small of her back to deepen her arch, I find an even deeper spot inside her. “Ohmygod—” Mira gasps. 
“You sound so sexy,” I groan. I don’t want her to hold back either. I want her to be as loud as she wants to be. No one else is on this floor anyway. Pulling her up by her shoulder, I reach in front of her to rub her clit, her head dropping back and onto my shoulder. 
Slipping out of her, she shudders and whines at the sudden loss but I turn her around so she’s on her back before I land on top of her again, pinning her hands above her head. Her knees fall open and I hook my hands under her thighs before thrusting back into her, earning an incredible eye roll from her. 
“Fuck, Yeonjun.”
“I know, darling,” I say lowly. I wonder if she actually likes it when I call her that. Should I call her something else? Baby? Babe? Love? 
The speed of my thrusts increases again, while I massage her tit. She grips her legs by the back of her knees, holding them wide open for me. “Look at you…being such a good girl for me, hm?” Using my body, I push her legs down gently, letting me in even deeper. Our faces are so close to each other, her lips are just begging to be kissed, but I resist. 
She takes a deep breath, her eyebrows stitch together and she looks up at me before saying with the most genuine sounding voice, “You’re so pretty.”
That makes me absolutely gush. My shoulders scrunch as I run my fingers through my hair before I bend to lick one of her nipples so slowly she can hardly stand it. Kissing up her chest, I whisper, “You’re fucking beautiful, Mira.” Her arms wrap around my neck to pull me closer. 
“Wait, Yeonjun,” she says. I stop in my tracks. “Can you, uh…” she asks, pushing me out of her before getting up off the bed. 
“Is everything okay?” I ask. “Did I hurt you?”
She’s rummaging through her bag and replies, “No, Sir.” Returning, she hands me a small clit vibrator. Oh. “Can you, um…can you use that on me?”
“Whatever you wish, darling,” I say, watching her lay on her back again, spreading her legs open for me. I switch her toy on to the lowest setting. “Do you think about me when you use this to make yourself feel good?” Before she can answer, I place it onto her clit. 
Gasping and nodding, she says, “Yes, Sir.” Her fingers grip the sheets before she admits, “I think about you every time.” She sighs. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”
“Of course.”
“What do you think about doing to me?”
“I think about licking all over you. About making you feel good,” I say. “About you screaming my name.”
“You like making me feel good?” 
I nod and we’re both desperate as ever now. Desperate to feel each other. To come together. I thrust back into her, quickly reaching a speed we both like, increasing the intensity of the toy along the way. Her mouth drops open as she furrows her eyebrows, her moans getting higher pitched and quicker. 
“Mira, I wanna see you cum.”
Dropping one of her legs, she wraps it around my waist, grabbing my forearm, clearly close to losing it. “Don’t stop, babe,” she whimpers. I shake my head. “Please, Yeonjun, don’t stop.”
“I’m not gonna stop, darling.”
I reach the deepest part of her, and she finally lets go—eyes rolling back, thighs trembling, clit shuddering under the toy. She’s fucking stunning when she cums. Her other leg falls to the bed while she moans out loud, the corners of her mouth curving upward. “Babe, fuck,” she says breathlessly, “You’re making me cum so hard.”
My thrusts get sloppier and I bury my free hand in her soft waves, groaning and whimpering in her ear as I cum inside her, collapsing on her shoulder. That was truly the best I’ve ever felt. 
Forehead glistening with sweat under the moonlight barely shining through the bedroom window, she looks fucking gorgeous. Her post-sex glow would make anyone swoon. My stomach swirls with emotions. I need her. But I just had her. But I need more. No, I need something else. 
“I wanna kiss you,” she says. Fuck, don’t do this to me. “Please?”
I think about it for a second—I really do. That’s what I want, no, that’s exactly what I need, but— “You told me not to.” 
Shaking her head, she admits, “I don’t care.” She looks absolutely kissable right now. I need to feel her lips on mine again. Passing by each other in the hallway and pretending not to be fucking has been miserable. Every time I see her, I refrain from running up and wrapping my arms around her to give her the best kiss she’s ever had. Not being able to do that has been bad enough, but not even kissing her when I’m literally still inside her? Now that’s torture. 
The way she looks at me too—up through her eyelashes, eyes glistening from pure pleasure, cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen and utterly plump.
She hooks two fingers under my necklace to pull me closer, tilting her chin up toward me. Fuck, don’t do that. My heart races. “Please,” she says. “I need to kiss you.” 
No. Don’t. She’s the one that initiated the no kissing rule. And for good reason. We shouldn’t get involved right now. I let her tug me a few inches closer, but I dodge her lips and turn to my side to lean on the bed before clearing my throat.
“Let’s go take a shower, yeah?” I suggest. 
She sighs and says, “Okay.” Standing up silently, I watch her walk slowly to the bathroom, her body moving so beautifully, but I can tell she’s upset even from behind. I plop down on my back. Did I do the right thing? I want to kiss her more than anything but she’s told me over and over again not to. I didn’t want her to regret something because of the heat of the moment. I don’t want her to feel like I took advantage of her but I also don’t want her to feel like I don’t want her. 
The shower turns on, making me stand up. I catch her looking at herself in the mirror before she glances down. Without speaking, we both get in the huge shower that luckily has two shower heads. She wets her hair then smiles at me sweetly. 
“Can I at least have a hug?” She asks. I chuckle, opening my arms up to her. She wraps her arms around my waist. We wash the day off each other—stressful meetings, long walks to and from the conference center, the amazing sex we just had. The room is mostly silent with the occasional Can you hand me my soap? 
After drying off, we crawl back into the shared bed. I’m sitting up with my back against the headboard while I flick through the TV channels. Half laying down and half resting against the headboard, she keeps awkwardly moving closer to me, opening her mouth and breathing in like she wants to say something but never does.
I slouch a bit to get to her level before opening up my arm up to her and so she can lay her head on my chest. As she snuggles into me, I swear I could die happy right here. The air is calm and sweet and warm, her presence provides an overwhelming sense of comfort and I can’t help but graze my fingers up and down her arm until she falls asleep. 
As predicted, insomnia is my enemy tonight. Questions swirl around my mind. 
Should I have kissed her? What does she want after this? What’s she gonna be like tomorrow morning? How should I act tomorrow morning? After eating some almonds and a banana to try and induce sleep, I go for a walk around the hotel, trying to tire out my body and mind. Eventually, I lay back down thinking about what I really want between the two of us.
Normally, I’d squeeze my eyes shut to picture her lips and eyelashes, but the real Mira is lying right next to me. But I probably shouldn’t stare at her without her permission. With the warmth of thinking of her, there’s also a tug of uncertainty. What if she doesn’t feel the same way I do? What if she just wanted sex? I couldn’t really be mad at her for that, though. That’s what we both wanted at the beginning, even if there may have been some underlying feelings. That’s at least all we were expecting. 
Sighing, I turn away from her, thoughts tangling into each other, emotions pulling on the threads in every direction. I count my breaths, slow and steady, but each breath is full of her scent, making things worse, the adrenaline of unspoken feelings keeping me awake. 
Time stretches out and I look at my phone, the clock glaring back at me—4:37 AM. Another sigh escapes me, heavier this time. My meetings are done for the week, but I don’t like massive changes in my sleep schedule, even when I'm abroad. 
Pulling the covers over my head, I block out the world before quietly whispering her name, like it’s a confession I hope she may hear. I’m answered only by the faintest of snores that have been steady for hours. Finally, my thoughts blur, exhaustion pulling me into a restless sleep. But even in my dreams, she’s there, a shadow at the edge of consciousness.
-
“Hey,” I say groggily to Mira. “What happened to you?” Mira’s already dressed in her work clothes with her hair neatly tied back. The smell of the coffee she’s pouring wafts through the air and warms me up. I start to hug her from behind, but—
“I made coffee,” she replies, her tone professional and clipped. 
“Why’d you get out of bed?”
“To work. That’s why I’m here.” Her voice is detached and she finally turns to look at me. 
Searching her face for the warmth I’d seen last night, I say, “Yeah, but I thought after—”
“We shouldn’t have done that last night.”
“What?”
“Sex,” she says matter-of-factly. “We should not have had sex last night.”
“I know what you meant, but why not?” I ask, my heart pounding. “We’ve been practically having sex for months now.”
“Last night was different.” 
“So?”
Mira takes a deep breath before sitting the coffee pot back on the table. “Because, Yeonjun, I’m your servant and we used to date and now…”
“And now what? We pretend it didn’t happen?” Anger and frustration bubbles inside me. Whether I consciously knew it or not, I’d made my decision last night. I want to be with her for real and I’m willing to do whatever it takes, as long as she’ll have me. I was hoping she felt the same way, but she’s still not willing to admit the depth of our relationship out loud. “Mira, last night was…it was real. You can’t just ignore that.”
She looks away from me, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t do this anymore.”
My heart races faster with each step I take toward her. “It’s okay to have feelings.”
“No, it’s not,” she spits, twisting her head back to look at me. “I cannot do this again. We cannot do this again.” I start to interrupt. “I don’t wanna hear it, Yeonjun.”
“Mira, please—”
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice breaking. “We have to end this before it even starts.” Her words bring a finality to us before she walks out of the kitchenette and onto the balcony. I suppose that’s it then. 
The silence left in her wake is deafening. I slump into a chair, running my hands through my hair, the weight of every unspoken word heavy on my shoulders. The morning light filters through the window, casting long shadows across the room. It’s surreal. 
No. This is not how we end.
Following her out onto the balcony, she stands with her back to me, staring blankly at the lake. The same lake we kayaked on together a few days ago. I envy the serenity of the water. “Mira, you can’t just walk away,” I say softly, hoping to reach her through the wall she’s built around herself. 
She doesn’t turn, but her shoulders tense. “You said it yourself, Yeonjun. I’m nothing. We couldn’t even be together even if we wanted to.” 
“Is that what this is about? You’re still upset about something I said seven years ago?” She shakes her head. “Then what is it?” She keeps turning away from me. And ignoring me. “Talk to me. Please.” 
“There’s nothing left to say.”
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cw. crying, kissing. 
MIRA'S POV
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The rest of our trip to Switzerland was business as usual. I made sure of it. I woke up on time, got his coffee, did everything a servant does and in the manner a servant would do. No smiles. No anger. Just business. 
“What’s been up with you recently?” Hyomin shakes me out of my daydreaming—or daynightmaring, perhaps—replaying that morning with Yeonjun. How hurt he looked. How it felt to break my own heart. How it felt to break his heart. “You haven’t been acting like yourself. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I say, glancing over at Yeonjun sitting at the dining table without even realizing it at first. 
Narrowing her eyes, she asks, “Did something happen between you two?”
“No,” I say harshly. 
“You can’t be serious.” I shrug. “You went to Switzerland together for a week and nothing happened? Not even a kiss or a not-so-platonic hug?”
“I have work to do, Hyomin.” Shaking my head, I stomp away in the direction of my room. Slamming my door shut, I press the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears from coming but it's no use. My phone buzzes but I already know who it is. 
Yeonjun 3:52 PM Are you ever gonna talk to me again?
It’s been four days since Switzerland but that’s the twelfth message since we got back. 
Can we talk? Can you meet me in our closet tonight? Just to talk, nothing else. I’d really like to talk to you. Please stop ignoring me. 
I have sent zero. I can’t bring myself to. Tossing my phone on my mattress, there’s a black dress bag and a note on my bed. 
For Saturday. –Y
Are you fucking kidding me? He’s buying me gifts now? What kind of relationship does he think we have? We make each other come a few times, have sex in Switzerland once and now he won’t stop texting me and buying me dresses? Fuck this. 
Me. 4:01 PM Closet. Now.
-
“Hello, darling,” Yeonjun says smugly as I slam the door shut. 
“What the fuck is this, Yeonjun?” I scream-whisper, shoving the dress bag into his chest as his face turns horrified. 
“A dress,” he says defensively, trying to not let the dress bag fall to the floor. 
“Don’t patronize me,” I spit. “You think you can buy me or something?” He shakes his head nervously. “Taking me to Switzerland, staying in a fancy hotel, buying me food, now you’re buying me an expensive dress?”
“I took you to Switzerland as a member of my staff,” he reminds me.
“If you think for one second that I’ll just come running back to you because of this—”
He grabs me by my forearm and gently yanks me close to him to stare down at me hungrily, like he wants to take me right then and there. I know this look very well by this point. 
“You’re cute when you’re mad at me.”
“Shut up.” I throw the dress down and attempt to turn away from him. “Leave me alone, Yeonjun.” His grip tightens, not painfully, but firmly enough to prevent me from going anywhere. 
“Why are you so angry, really? Is it the gifts, or is it because you’re scared of what this means?” I glare at him, feeling the anger bubble up again. 
“Don’t flatter yourself.” I roll my eyes. He sighs, letting go of my arm but not stepping back. 
“I’m not trying to buy you, okay? I just...I like you. And I want to do things for you.”
I cross my arms, trying to maintain the obviousness of my anger but I can’t help I’m shocked. He likes me? Like that? I mean, I was hopeful but I never thought he’d ever say it out loud. Should I say it too? I almost think about it, but instead, I ask, “You think throwing money at me will make me like you more?”
“No,” he says softly, surprising me. “I just don’t know what to do, Mira,” he raises his voice. “You’re ignoring me and I want to show you I care about you.”
“I know you care about me, Yeonjun. I’m telling you to stop caring about me,” I say sternly. “It’s over.”
Over the next few days, he stops texting me, talking to me, I don’t even catch him glancing at me like I usually do several times a day. He must be avoiding me—or doing exactly what I asked him to do, I guess. Which pisses me off too. 
Saturday rolls around and we have yet another fancy dinner to host. The Queen pulled out all the stops for this one too—amazing food, open bar with fancy drinks, great music, even greater decorations. It’s gorgeous. I’d realized I should probably stop being such a bitch and make amends with him. As a gesture, I show up wearing the dress he gave me. 
“Prince Yeonjun?” I ask, watching his ears perk up as he turns around, a clear smile on his face at the sound of my voice. “Can I have a dance, please?” His face relaxes as he nods before he extends his hand to take me to the dancefloor. He performs his customary bow, followed by my curtsy. My tummy tingles a bit at the formality of it all. I feel like a princess. 
As my hand falls into his, nothing matters. Not our history. Not our future. Not his title. Not the lack of mine. I’m with him. We’re together. The soft music from the chamber orchestra is perfect accompaniment for us. 
I’d thought about the idea of us for so long. What we could be, what I want us to be, what I think he wants us to be. I don’t think it’ll ever work, but at least there’s tonight. There’s this dance. 
We sway together, hand in hand, my other hand on his shoulder while his rests around my waist. Eyes locked. His jacket catches the flicker of the chandelier while my gown flows down my waist and onto the floor gracefully. 
Expertly turning me, I can’t help but think back to the first night he broke my heart. Would he do that again? Pressing his hand firmer against my waist, I welcome it by pressing my body more securely against his.  The warmth between us grows stronger by the second. We’re falling in love again. Or maybe we already did. 
He towers over me, much like he did the night of our first kiss. Returning from a night where we’d once again snuck out to see each other, he walked me home. Standing on the front porch of my cottage, we refused to wish each other a good night. The moon was the only light source, but it was enough to see how handsome he was, even back then. 
“Yeonjun…” I whisper as he continues to lead us through a casual dance that lets us focus on a conversation. “I’m sorry.” He looks at me questioningly. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset about the dress. I felt…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I just felt so used, I dunno.” Horror crosses his face. 
“Mira…I didn’t mean—”
“No, I know,” I say. “But I felt like we could never be together, not really anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath and say, “Keeping secrets, never being able to tell everyone…we should probably stop…you know, what we’ve been doing.” I look up at him through my shaky eyes and he frowns but forces himself to nod. 
“If that’s what you want.”
“I just can’t,” I sniffle. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose you again.”
“You won’t. I’m right here.” He presses his hands even firmer against my waist to prove it. 
“But where were you seven years ago? I’ve—” My eyes can’t hold my tears any longer, breaking free to run down my cheeks. “I’ve missed you so much.” 
“I know. I’m so sorry.” Brushing the apple of my cheek with his thumb, he lifts my face to meet his eyes. “I’ve missed you too.” Pressing my lips together, I blink a tear out of my eye and I shake my head in protest. “Mira…listen.” He never lets me go. “I am so sorry for what I said that night. If I could take it back, I would.” I smile. “You know that doesn’t matter to me. You mean so much to me,” he says genuinely. “That night in Switzerland meant so much to me.” Everything halts. Our eyes meet. “But if you want me to stop, I will. I’ll never bring us up again.” 
“Us?”
“You know I’m yours whenever you’re ready.” The wind’s knocked out of me. My heart races as he inches closer and closer. So close I can see each individual eyelash. “Tell me to stop.” 
“No,” I say, welcoming his lips on top of mine. His lips meet mine softly, a whisper of a kiss that feels like a promise. It's gentle, tentative at first, like we’re both terrified to lose each other. But then, the years of longing we've kept hidden surge forward, and the kiss deepens.
The room around us fades away, the music, the murmurs of the crowd, the flickering candlelight—they all dissolve into a hazy backdrop. All that exists is us, bound together in this moment of rawness. His hands move from my waist to cradle my face, his touch tender yet insistent. My hands rest against his chest. 
His kiss is everything I've ever dreamed of—sweet yet passionate, comforting yet electrifying. It speaks of forgiveness and second chances. The saltiness of my tears mingle with the softness of his lips.
It's as if we're communicating without words. Each movement, each touch, each breath shared between us is a declaration of our feelings for each other. His arms encircle me, holding me close, and I feel safe, cherished, and utterly adored.
When we finally part, breathless and overwhelmed, our foreheads rest against each other, our eyes closed as we savor the moment. The world starts to come back into focus, but it's different now. Everyone’s eyes are on us. The room has come to a halt. Glancing around the room, there isn’t one person that hasn’t stopped what they’re doing to stare at us. Not us. Me. 
“Fuck,” I whisper. “Excuse me.” I scurry off quickly, leaving him there alone.
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cw. unsupportive parents, classism, crying, love.
YEONJUN'S POV
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Everyone watches as she runs off like it’s a movie. She’s picked up her skirt to avoid tripping, and her head hangs low as she searches for the nearest exit. I awkwardly look around the room, excusing myself with a few head bows.
Running through the castle hallway, I catch up to her right outside my bedroom door. Her forehead’s pressed against the doorframe, arms wrapped around her body while she waits for me. She’s waiting for me. That gives me hope. At least she’s not running from me anymore. 
“Hey, hey, hey,” I whisper, grazing my hand across her shoulder blade. “C’mere.” I pull her into my chest, wrapping one of my arms around her while I open the door with my free hand. I lead her to my bed where she sits awkwardly scrunched into a ball while I rush to flick on some lamps. Then, I sit next to her, my hand resting on her shoulder blade for comfort. 
“I can’t—” she can hardly speak through her tears. 
“It’s okay.”
“I can’t do this, Jjun, I can’t.” She’s shaking her head, tears running down her cheeks. “I really want to but I just…” She trails off. Before I can speak up, she adds, “Your mother—” 
My heart sinks. “My mother? Did she do something to you?” Pressing her lips together, she nods. “Take some deep breaths, love, and tell me what she did.” She does as I say, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, attempting to compose herself. 
“After,” she starts hiccuping and I encourage her to take more deep breaths by modeling the breathing technique she was using earlier. “After that night in Switzerland,” she begins, but it’s too difficult for her to speak. Pulling out her phone, she silently thumbs through her phone to her voice mail box. My mother’s voice, cold and stern, plays from the speaker. 
Mira Ashenrose, the audacious servant who dares aspire beyond her station, it has come to my attention that your eyes linger far too long on my son. Your actions are not only bold but also insolent, as you seem to have forgotten your place within my castle walls.
Let me be clear: the Prince's future is one of sovereignty and grandeur, a path predetermined by bloodline and duty. Any attempts to disrupt or divert his focus with your insignificant presence will be met with severe consequences.
You are a servant, a role you should embrace with humility and gratitude. Your duties do not include entertaining fantasies of a life beyond your given position, especially one involving a royal whom you are unworthy to even address directly.
Cease your imprudent behavior immediately. Should I find even the slightest hint of your infatuation resurfacing, you will discover that my patience is not to be tested. Your continued employment—and indeed, your very well-being—hangs by a thread of my tolerance, a thread that I am fully prepared to cut.
Do not mistake this warning for mere words. You will find that I am a queen of action. Refrain from crossing boundaries that were never meant for you, and remember your place. It is only in your compliance that you will find any semblance of mercy from me.
Consider this your only warning.
By this point, her crying has subsided to sniffles but I’m speechless. How could she have done this? “I woke up that night after we…were together. You were still next to me. I was just checking the time and I had that message waiting for me.” 
“Mira, I don’t care what my mother thinks.”
“I care,” she says. “I can’t be with someone whose mother thinks of me like this,” she says, gesturing to her phone. “And you used to think of me that way. What if you start thinking like that again? Or do you already think of me this way?”
“Of course not,” I say, grabbing her hands. “Look at me.” She puts on a brave face before looking me straight in the eye. “Do you wanna know what I think of you?” She hums. “Perfect. Beautiful. Kind. Caring. Talented.” Smiling to herself, she looks down at our hands. “That’s what I think of you.” She nods gently and I brush some hair back. “You should have told me.” She shakes her head. 
“I decided to quit anyway,” she sniffles. “I already put in my two weeks. That’s why I asked you to dance. I wasn’t gonna leave without dancing with you at least once.” She glances down at my lips. “Or kissing you at least once,” she giggles. 
“Or twice?”
She chuckles again, glancing down at the floor, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “Sure.” I peck her lips gently. 
“Three times?” I ask, barely backing away from her. 
“How about you kiss me over and over until I tell you to stop?”
I don’t waste any more time playing silly games with her. I crash my lips into hers and we melt together, she groans against my lips and I deepen the kiss, my hand against her cheek. But she soon breaks it to ask, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why didn’t you kiss me? You know, when I asked you to.”
“Because I thought if I did, you’d do exactly what you did the next morning,” I say. “I didn't wanna lose you.” 
Nodding, she runs her thumb across my knuckles. “What are we gonna do?” She asks. 
“About what?”
“Us.”
“There’s an us?”
“Ah, shut up,” she laughs, nudging my shoulder. “You know I’m yours whenever you’re ready.”
-
“Yeonjun, what is it? I’m very busy,” Mother says, not bothering to look up from the many papers that are shuffled across her desk. 
“Mother, we need to talk,” I say, my voice steady but firm.
Sliding her glasses off her nose, she drops them on the desk and turns in her chair to make eye contact. “You’re right,” she says and I look confused. “What are these policy proposals you wrote?” Why is she reading those? How did she even find them? “This Freshwater Sustainability Proposal,” she says matter-of-factly. 
“What’s wr—”
“This is some of your worst writing. Half of it doesn’t even make sense,” she says, my stomach dropping. Those were drafts. “I mean, what is this part about ‘aquatic ecosystem revitalization through bioremediation techniques’? You think the council will understand that jargon? And this section on ‘community-based water stewardship programs’? It’s laughably naive. Who’s going to manage these programs? Volunteers?”
“That is a well-researched proposal meant to—”
“Well-researched?” She scoffs, flipping through the pages with a dismissive hand. “It’s idealistic drivel, Yeonjun. We need practical solutions, not fanciful ideas that belong in a classroom.”
“These ideas could make a real difference.”
She waves a hand, brushing off my words. “Idealism is pointless. We can’t gamble on untested theories.”
“Untested theories?” I can’t help but let a note of disbelief slip into my voice. “They’re proven methods many other countries have successfully implemented.”
“Our priority is status and stability.”
“What good is status and stability if our environment collapses?” I challenge.
She glares at me, her eyes cold before she lets out an evil chuckle. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”
“Is that why you feel the need to control every aspect of my life?” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I take a deep breath, preparing for the moment of truth. “When did you find out about Mira?”
The question hangs in the air, catching her completely off guard. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, but she quickly masks her surprise. “Who? Oh, that servant that quit last week? I did see you two kiss at the party.”
“Don’t play games with me, Mother,” I say, my voice hard. “I know you knew about us before that. That voicemail you left her? Where you threatened her, told her she was nothing but a servant, and to stay away from me.”
She recovers quickly, her expression turning cold. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”
“How dare you do such a thing?” I shoot back. “Mira is someone I care about and you had no right to interfere with our relationship,” I say.
“Relationship?” She rolls her eyes. “Your relationship is a shallow, pleasant distraction at best. She’s simply a way to blow off steam, to indulge in sexual frustrations.”
Ew. But okay. “It’s more than that, Mother. Mira means something to me.”
She sighs, a mix of impatience and disappointment in her voice. “Yeonjun, you’re too young to understand the complexities involved here. You have a duty to this kingdom, to your people. Mira is not part of that equation.”
“If you can’t find a way to accept the woman I love, then…I don’t know if there’s anything else for us to say to each other.”
“You’ve known her for three months, Yeonjun. You’re not in love.”
I shake my head. “We’ve known each other for seven years.”
“What?” She asks, shocked. “You’ve been seeing her behind my back for seven years?”
“No,” I say. “We used to date a while ago and then we…I dunno, started back up after she started working here.” 
“You think you love her,” she counters sharply. “But what you feel is temporary. It’s not sustainable. And you’re all for sustainability, right?” I roll my eyes. “I will not allow you to jeopardize your future and duty for a fleeting infatuation,” I say. “Your choices affect everyone,” she says, her tone unyielding. “Including the stability of this kingdom.”
“You’re trying to control me,” I accuse, feeling the weight of her authority pressing down on me.
“I’m trying to protect you. You must think beyond your own desires.”
Eventually, I say, “Mother, mind your business.” I storm off, headed in the direction of the garden to get some air. I don’t stop walking until I find myself sitting under the willow tree that Mira and I love so much. She’s always loved it here. 
Maybe Mira’s right—I don't know if it's such a great idea to be with someone whose mother thinks of them like mine does about her. Fuck, this is so unfair. Regardless, Mother’s getting what she wants. Us not together. 
Quiet footsteps approach me. Not now, please. I can’t argue with Mother anymore. 
“The woman you love, huh?”
“Mira,” I say, happiness evident in my voice. “Hi.” She smiles, holding her hands behind her back before she walks closer to me. “Um…” She sticks her hand out for me to grab and helps me to my feet. 
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear,” she says but I wouldn’t care if she were to be honest. “I was getting some water from the kitchen and overheard.” 
“Mira…” I say, an undeniable smile spreading across my face, my hands running down her arms, wrapping around her waist to bring her closer. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Why’s that?” She asks with a sweet smile. 
“I’m always happy to see you,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to hear what she said about you.” She shakes her head. “I do by the way,” I say. “I love you.”
“Fucking finally,” she whispers before reaching her arms around my neck to pull me closer to her, crashing her lips into mine. They move over each other passionately. She tastes so fucking delicious. She feels so fucking warm. She smells so fucking good. “Oh, I love you too,” she giggles, breaking the kiss. “Sorry, I should’ve said it sooner.”
“I love you too too,” I say between kisses. “So much. You have no idea.” She looks so sweet. “I guess we should probably talk about—”
Shaking her head, she says, “Not yet. Let’s just—” She gives me another deep kiss. “We can think about that later, okay?” I nod and press my lips to hers again. 
Everything is so perfect. The way her laugh echoes in my ear like nothing could ever go wrong, the way her body slowly but sensually grinds against my own, the way we know we love each other and can finally say it out loud, even if we don’t know what the future holds for us. 
Breaking the kiss gently, she’s absolutely stunning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as gorgeous as her. I brush my thumb across her eyebrow and say matter-of-factly, “You’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she replies. “So are you.”
The air shifts. We’re alone and we’re hyper aware of that fact. I doubt anyone could even hear us. Our eyelids get heavy as we lean into each other, our lips touching in a fiery kiss that leaves me needing more. Holding her cheek in my hand, it grows deeper and hotter until a tiny moan leaves her mouth. “Fuck,” she says under her breath. “You’re such a good kisser.”
“That’s all you, baby,” I say, sliding my hand down to squeeze her amazing ass. 
“Yeonjun,” she whines. “You can’t tell me you love me and then not immediately fuck me.” 
“I can’t even imagine doing such a thing,” I chuckle.
“You think…” she glances behind her. “Think we can sneak into your room together?”
“Absolutely.”
Walking back to the castle makes us all the more giddy. Hands touching each other playfully, giggling and flirting in hushed tones all the way back to my room where I lead her to my bed. 
Landing on top of her, she’s so pretty. Covering every inch of her bare skin with kisses, I can’t stop whispering compliments to her. Real compliments I’ve always wanted to say. 
You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m so lucky I get to love you. I love every inch of you and I’m gonna show how much I mean it. 
“Please, Jjun, I need you.”
“You know I need to taste you first, though, right?”
“Of course.” She lets me slip her sweatpants off her legs, the cool air making goosebumps prick her skin. Her maroon thong is so sexy. Desperately moving her thong to the side, I take a deep breath, wanting to take my time with her. Letting go of her thong, it snaps back into place, covering her back up. I press my lips to her tummy, peppering her with soft and slow kisses. 
“So perfect,” I whisper against her skin. And I mean it. Every time I say it. “I could worship your body for hours.” 
“We’ve got time, my love.” 
All I know is by the time I’m done covering her body in kisses, the sun has completely set and she’s illuminated only by the lamp on my bedside table. But I can absolutely still see how beautiful she is. I could see her beauty in the pitch black. 
“Yeonjun,” she starts, pulling me up to look her in the eyes. She brushes some of my hair back and says, “Whatever happens after this, I want you to know—” I start to protest. What does she mean? I know what’s gonna happen after this. We’re gonna find a way to be together. “I want you to know that I love you, okay?”
“Mira…I love you too.”
“Just know that…” she takes a deep breath. “I’m yours.”
I give her a long, lingering kiss and say, “And I’m yours.”  
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@aduh0308 request a tag :)
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mmogurl · 2 months ago
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Last to Fall Chapter 3 - Dark On Me
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18+ | 2.9k | Aegon II Targaryen X Female Dragonseed Reader | Unresponsive Aegon | half sister reader - you're a princess now! Fastest elevation in class ever! wholesome, fluff, severe injury and burns, mentions of death and other bad things, but still... this whole thing is actually kind of sweet compared to what I usually write.
Ok! This chapter was actually very emotional for me to write. I think sometimes I put my mind too closely into that of my characters, because as I was imagining several parts of this chapter from the reader's perspective, I found myself tearing up. Hopefully that emotion comes across in the work and makes it better.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 On AO3
I've also decided that I'm going to try my best to fit every chapter to a Starset song because the whole Series is based off the title of one (Last to Fall). I'm enjoying the challenge of finding one that suits each theme/ story! They're not all going to be perfectly aligned, but I'll try my best. This one is Starset - Dark on Me I especially like the line - 'But I found in you what was lost in me.. In a world so cold and empty.' Thanks to @zaldritzosrose for headers and I actually made all the gifs myself again! Tags: @coffeebooksrain18, @lexi-anastasia-astra-luna, @meggletoomanyfandoms, @theanbitchless (If you wanna be removed or added from/to the taglist, just let me know)
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You hear the horns sound and watch from the balustrade as the procession makes its way through the city up towards the Red Keep. The soldiers return from battle victorious, carting the head of Meleys upon a wagon, but you haven’t seen Sunfyre return yet and nobody will tell you what has become of the king. You’ve heard his mother, Queen Dowager Alicent, mention Aegon in hushed whispers with some council members, but she has not deemed you worthy to share whatever information she has.
Even with the king’s decree elevating your status to that of princess, none will tell you what has happened. You must assume the worst. As the caravan draws closer to the castle, you can see another cart led by two horses. It carries what appears to be a casket covered by many blankets and your heart sinks at the thought of your most dire fears come true.
He cannot be dead. No, no. You won’t accept it.
You rush down to the courtyard, to await the arrival of your king, praying to any gods that might listen that he is still alive. A large contingent of the Kingsguard greet you outside and you feel even more strongly now that your assumption must be true. That Aegon is indeed in that wooden tomb, very likely deceased, but your heart still holds out hope that you’re wrong. The massive gates open to the inner wall of the keep and you watch with despair as the wagon is pulled forward.
As the wooden cart stops, your eyes dart to and fro as men step up to bear the casket forth. You catch the gaze of one of the white cloaks standing near you, and plead with him for answers. “Is he dead?” you whisper, desperate to know the fate of the man who had asked you to be his.
He offers a knowing expression of remorse, but nothing more. You are forced to follow behind as six men carry the king inside, be he dead or alive. You can’t help but wonder where everyone is. Where is his mother? His brother? Where is the small council? Is nobody here to witness the return of the king? You can’t help but to cry quietly as you follow the men of the City Watch and Kingsguard combined with your hung head low.
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They carry the massive wooden crate all through the castle, heading upstairs until they enter Maegor’s Holdfast. You pass by Queen Helaena who is standing outside of her chambers, observing the procession with curiosity. You can’t help but wonder if they had kept the truth from her as well. When your eyes lock onto each others, her features twist with curiosity at the sight of your tears, but there is no malice present.
Helaena has never been rude or cruel to you, despite her knowledge of your role in Aegon’s life. She almost seemed grateful that you were able to offer him the companionship that she could not. The queen did not follow further, opting to stay back, likely having a sense that even more tragedy was on the horizon. You didn’t blame her for that, but it didn’t change that you must know. You had to see with your own eyes what had become of your love, Aegon.
As the doors to the king’s chambers opened, your gaze fell upon Alicent standing to the side by the windows. Of course she had known, but chose to leave you in the dark, suffering alone with your doubts and fears. When she saw you, she averted her eyes for a moment, her facade of calm cracking slightly before she steeled herself and offered you a nod. You returned the gesture with a trembling lower lip stepping aside to watch what came next.
They removed the lid of the casket and a whimper escaped your lips as one soldier took Aegon’s sword, Blackfyre, from within and placed it to the side with reverence. The soldiers cleared the room as men dressed in black heaved a dark canvas bag from within the wooden coffer. The sight of this actually made you fall to your knees with grief, finally seeing proof that Aegon was not of this world anymore.
A lamenting wail throbbed through your chest as they placed Aegon’s body on the bed. Your hand clutched the footboard as you fell down on one knee, barely keeping yourself upright. Alicent came to stand beside you, and you barely noticed the presence of the maesters entering through your sobbing.
“Is he alive?” the Queen Dowager asked with a mixture of shock and trepidation. The words stopped your weeping instantly as you pulled yourself up and leaned over the bedframe.
“His Grace, remains with us, for the moment,” Grand Maester Orwyle answered somberly.
You let out whining gasp that makes you sound like a pathetic animal, but you can’t help it. “He was alive? And you carted him through the streets as though he were a corpse!?” You cannot help but cry out as you stare accusingly at Alicent, appalled by the treatment he’d received.
“I didn’t have much say in it,” the Queen Dowager replies looking bewildered as the sight before her seemed to sink in. “They told me.. They thought it would be best that nobody saw the injuries he sustained.”
You stop your outrage, realizing that she likely didn’t know the extent of the damage either. Still, you wish she would have confided in you what little she had known so that you might have better prepared for this.
Orwyle takes an instrument from his medical kit and begins to remove pieces of Aegon’s armor. The more you look, the more you begin to understand what has happened to him. The entire left side of his body, from his head all the way down to his leg, has been scorched by dragonflame. His arm appears to have been dealt the brunt of the damage, where the Valyrian steel has melted into his limb, leaving it a gored tangle of flesh and metal.
A cry threatens to escape your lips once more, but you stifle it. There will be time for sobbing later, but for now you wish to keep yourself preoccupied. “I wish to help,” you say desperately, but everyone is so busy at work that nobody even responds. “Please,” you ask again, your brows furrowed with anguish. “I need to help.”
Alicent offers a glance at one of the maesters assisting Orwyle and from there, a chain reaction of assent occurs, until finally a young man tugs your arm and pulls you to the side.
“You can aid me in making the poultices,” he says softly. You cannot possibly express how grateful you are for the opportunity to stay busy, while attempting to save your king. You offer the Queen Dowager an appreciative look from across the room and return to learning how to prepare the treatment for Aegon.
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It is likely a good thing that you are not watching as they remove the king’s armor, for you can hear his ragged breaths and the gasp that startles from Alicent’s mouth in response to it.
“Is my son going to die?” she asks sounding petrified. You do not wish to hear it, but you can’t tune it out either.
“I’m afraid I cannot say,” Orwyle responds quietly, turning his head to regard the Queen Dowager for a moment. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, these next hours are most critical.”
“Of course,” Alicent replies, taking a step back so that she’s no longer interfering with the healers work.
The young maester in training hands you a plate filled with individual leaves of steamed cabbage and notions for you to take it to the bed. “Take these,” he says quietly as a mouse. You don’t hesitate to obey, not wanting to hinder Aegon’s chances for survival.
You hold the tray out, leaning over Aegon’s bed, to an aged maester with a gray beard dressed all in dingy whites. He begins to take one piece at a time, placing the wraps at the bottom of Aegon’s broken leg and working his way up. Your hands shake slightly, but you do your best to stall your trembling so that you might be of use. Stealing a glance down the length of the bed, you see Orwyle sponging charred bits away from Aegon’s once pristine face.
Your heart aches, but you push it deep down. There will be time to grieve later if he dies, but you refuse to give into despair again before that actually happens.
“Someone will have to rule in his stead,” the cold and familiar voice cuts through your thoughts.
You turn to your right and see Aemond standing there, dead center at the foot of Aegon’s bed. He had always seemed dangerous to you, but has never looked this unhinged before. You can’t help but wonder what might have happened at the battle of Rook’s Rest to change his demeanor so drastically. The way he looks at Aegon, it reminds you of a cat playing with a mouse, holding it by the tail and swatting at it.
You can’t help but wonder how he stands there without an ounce of concern for his brother. As your discomfort grows, you decide that you will have to keep an eye on the prince from now on. You swear solemnly to yourself, glaring at Aemond while you do so, that you will keep watch on the king as though your life depended on it. Just in case.
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It has been a couple of days now and while Aegon has not yet woken, he has not yet passed into the arms of the Stranger either. He’s been cleaned up considerably, and his wounds all tended to. The only remnants of the horror you witnessed when he first arrived in the Red Keep being the charcoal still tinting his cheek and of course all of the burns that lace his left side. His broken leg is propped up to keep the blood from swelling, but otherwise Aegon looks peaceful in his slumber, despite the audible struggle he has breathing. You lay next to Aegon on the bed, unwilling to leave his side for any reason lest he might wake alone without a caring face to welcome him back. Nestled carefully against the side of him that is not horribly burnt, it almost feels comforting to feel his chest rise and fall beside you with a fire crackling in the hearth.
At first, you worried that Aegon might pass at any given moment, but once he was out of imminent danger, it became a waiting game. Inevitably boredom overcame you as the king continued to sleep. You took to cleaning to pass the time. First, washing and scrubbing every nook and cranny of the floor in his chambers despite the objection of everyone that came across your endeavoring to stay sane. You then moved onto dusting and cleaning out the tapestries. It was one of the few times you’d left the king’s chambers since he returned, but you wanted to take everything outside to be aired out, lest there be a dust storm within.
A soft sigh pulls you from your memories and your eyes open to see Alicent sitting at the side of Aegon’s bed. Her hand is clinging to his as she leans slightly onto the bed. You can tell from her expression that this whole situation has been very taxing on her. Within such a short span of time, she’s almost lost her eldest son and king, and been passed over for the regency of the realms in his absence for Aemond. Given the predatory way the new Prince Regent had been staring at Aegon days prior, this is a decision you wholeheartedly disagree with.
As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown to appreciate Alicent’s company. At first she seemed annoyed by your presence, but you can only assume that in seeing your dedication to her son, she’s softened towards you. She’s even shared several kind words with you, which felt incredibly awkward, especially when she began referring to you as ‘The Princess,’ a title you are still not accustomed to hearing anyone speak, let alone her.
The Queen Dowager had never acknowledged the decree previously, but then none of the acceptance really matters without Aegon here to share it with. He’d talked of marrying you upon his return and now you wondered if that would ever happen. Your fingers caress softly along his arm, a motion that has become almost involuntarily by now as you huddle to him, hoping that your touch will bring him back.
Alicent stands suddenly, her eyes bleary as she places a hand on her son’s good cheek. She almost looks afraid to get too close, as though admitting the depth of her care for him might somehow make it hurt more to lose him. She nods a soft ‘good night’ to you and goes to leave the room. You watch for a moment as the maester opens the door for her in anticipation, and rest your head back down on the pillow.
And that’s when you hear it, so quiet and coarse that you might have missed it if you had not been right beside him. “Mummy,” he whispers without opening his eyes.
You dart up from the bed with haste, looking at him incredulously, as though he had just risen from the dead. “Queen Dowager!” you cry out, not wishing to disturb him, but needing to get her attention. “Maesters! He spoke!” You realize you are laughing with relief as you call out to the them, brushing the backs of your knuckles upon Aegon’s cheek gently as you coo to him. “She is coming, my love.”
As Alicent rushes back to her son’s bedside, you both share a look of hopeful promise. “What did he say?” she asks, her eyes searching over Aegon as though he might move, and than glancing back to you.
“He said ‘Mummy,’” you answer with a smile, happy to see the look of touched gratitude that appears on her face.
“Oh my sweet son…” she trails off, seemingly unable to put words to how she is feeling. She stands beside him, reaching out with a little more confidence this time. “Mummy’s here,” she offers quietly as the two maesters on duty gather behind her.
Aegon lets out a gravelly sound, his breath hitching as he fights for consciousness.
“We’ll let Grand Maester Orwyle know of this development,” one of the men in white offers. “But if he is soon to be speaking with us, it is good news indeed.”
The Queen Dowager is in high spirits when she is finally ready to leave for the night, so exhausted she can barely keep her eyes open. “Thank you,” she says, looking you in the eyes as she rises from her chair. “You didn’t have to call me back, but I’m glad that you did.”
“Who am I to deny him his mother if that’s who he’s ask for?” you say as though there was no other possible outcome in your mind.
She smiles at you with a warmth she’s never shown you before, nodding slightly. “Will you have them fetch me if he wakes again?” she asks with fondness in her voice.
“Of course,” you reply, settling back into the bed beside Aegon. You are surprised when she walks around to your side of the bed, and proceeds to mother you under the covers.
“If you’re going to spend your nights in here, than the least you can do is keep comfortable,” Alicent says with a hint of jest in her tone.
It is definitely a touch strange as she pulls the blanket up and around you, tucking it underneath you slightly. It’s almost suffocating, but in a nice way. “Good night,” you say, turning on your side towards Aegon. You’ve practically made a nook at his side from the amount of time you’ve spent there by now.
“Sleep well,” Alicent calls as she extinguishes the candles, leaving nothing but the hearth to light the immediate vicinity. She ushers the maesters out of the room, with an authoritative pitch. “Get some rest for the night, my son is in good hands as you can plainly see.”
As the doors close and you’re left in silence, you can’t help but consider how sometimes the worst things in life can really help to bring people together. You’ve also seen tragedy tear relationships apart, but when something beautiful can blossom from the ashes of destruction, it almost feels like everything is going to be alright again. Like Aegon is going to wake up and get out of his bed and move on with his life. And when he does, he’ll find himself rousing to a world in which his mother might feel a little more comfortable showing her thanks for his company.
You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply of his scent. Despite all of the medicinal herbs and the lingering remnants of carbon, you can still smell him. You press a tender kiss on his neck, right below his ear, humming softly as you taste him on your lips.
Whispering softly, you beseech him with kindness, “I love you, Aegon.” You run the tip of your nose against his jawline, savoring the feel of him. “I’ll wait for you… As long as it takes. Just come back to me.”
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evacrstairs · 10 months ago
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the cruel prince (jurdan) headers. like/reblog if you save or use. 👑
art by @illustratinghan
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maddiesflame · 6 months ago
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madison beer x judecardan layouts
like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame
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viviennevermillion · 2 years ago
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Teasing them
notes: guess who's back to writing about twisted wonderland? i always run back to this fandom eventually snfhsjfjd also y'all can bet I'm replacing leona's header with the new card as soon as we have it because god it's so cool. sorry leona's is shorter, i wrote riddle first and then ran out of brain juice
contains: character x gn!reader, established relationship, reader is a menace
characters included: riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar
warnings: none
dark content creators and consumers dni
Riddle hates being teased. Or rather, he hates the fact that he's absolutely kinda into it if you have a mischievous side. In his heart he still feels the pressure to follow every rule to utmost perfection but you're like a siren with horrible ideas slowly luring him into chaos.
You'll walk up to him sitting at the table in the Heartslabyul kitchen, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind and resting your head on his. "What are you doing there, Riddle~", you start and he lets out a sigh, already anticipating nothing productive from you right now. "I'm writing down every odd number up to 487 because it's a Tuesday and the rules of the Queen of Hearts say that at 6pm the dorm leader- y/n what are you doing?", he pouts and blushes when you sit down on his lap, hugging him close.
"Affection", you explain and press a kiss to his cheek. "I can see that, but I have to write down the numbers", he sighs again but gives in when you press your lips to his, kissing him gently but passionately. He eventually pushes you away gently. "I really need to finish this, y/n", he says and you get up, walking towards the doorframe.
"Aw, what a shame", you sigh dramatically, "and here I thought we could cuddle and I could spoil you a bit with some kisses....oh well, another time then."
With that you exit the kitchen and lay down on the bed in Riddle's room, picking up a book in the meantime. You glance at the clock. I'll give him 20 minutes at maximum, you think to yourself and chuckle.
And within those 20 minutes he's back in the room, making his way towards you. "Not. a. word", he just gives you an empty warning and lays down next to you, snuggling up to you and resting his head on your shoulder. You don't look up from your book but wrap an arm around him and start playing with his hair. He rolls his eyes at the shit-eating grin on your face.
"Did you finish writing your numbers, love? ~ ☆"
"Yes", he mumbles quietly and buries his face in your neck. You let out a laugh. "You've always been a horrible liar."
You put your book aside and lift his chin up to press a kiss to his lips. And then another. And Riddle melts into your embrace in frustration, indulging your whims and kissing you back lovingly. "You're gonna be the death of me", he whispers quietly, still blushing. His lips brush against yours while he speaks because of how close he is. "I love you too", you wink at him and kiss him again.
When you go to the kitchen later to pick up some food, Cater sits there with Riddles sheet of paper and the numbers. "Hey! I don't know about you, but the last time I checked 487 was not the number that came after 93!", he comments with his usual laid-back demeanor. Riddle pulls the paper out of Cater's hands and blushes furiously. He turns around only to be met with a smirk from you as you raise an eyebrow. "You only made it to 93?" "Shut up."
On Thursdays according to the rules of the Queen of Hearts, the Heartslabyul students aren't allowed to eat dark foods. What a perfect day for you to make a chocolate cake for Riddle. Trey and Cater absolutely have a blast with the fact that you can play your boyfriend like a fiddle and Trey gladly helps you with the cake. He's pretty happy that you've been the reason Riddle has becoming more and more lax with the rules.
"Y/n, have you forgotten again? We don't eat dark foods on Thursdays", Riddle looks at you with a disappointed expression. "Aw but I made this specifically for you and it turned out great honestly", you look to the floor with an obviously false sad expression, "guess I'll have to eat all of it alone."
And then you sit down directly across him and eat that chocolate cake. "Okay fine, give me a slice", Riddle sighs and you can tell he really loves that cake once he started eating it, which brings out a smile from you.
"You're the personified antithesis to everything Heartslabyul stands for", Riddle crosses his arms on the table and buries his head in them. "Personally I think I'm an enrichment for this dorm." "You've brought dishonor to our hedgehogs."
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Leona is a tease himself but he absolutely wasn't expecting for you to turn the tables on him on a regular basis.
"Y/n, stop that", he growled at you. "I don't know what you mean~", you smiled at him brightly and poked his ear again with the blade of grass, causing it to flick uncontrollably. You thought it looked adorable.
Leona had decided to take another nap in the Botanical Garden and you felt like keeping him some company. Somehow, "company" had escalated into annoying your boyfriend for your own personal amusement. He had already slept for 11 hours before this, he could stay awake now.
Leona turned around and grabbed your wrist, pulling the grass out of your hand and throwing it as far as he could from that position.
Then he rested his head on your lap, ready to resume his attempts at sleeping. "Oh, would you rather I do this instead?", you smirk and start gently rubbing his ear. You knew how much he loved this. But Leona didn't want to admit that. "I'd rather you just let me sleep, herbivore", he just growled and closed his eyes again.
"Okay", you responded and shrugged, stopping your motions and instead deciding to look through Magicam for a bit. As you had expected, Leona was starting to grow quite agitated. He had his eyes open again, staring at nothing in particular and his tail was flicking back and forth.
"Is something the matter, Leona?", you ask sweetly but he sees right through you. Now one of his ears flicks even without you making it do that. A desperate but subtle sign that Leona wanted you to continue your affections. He simply let out a "tsk" sound in response and glared at a nearby tree in frustration. Why can't this man ever say what he wants?, you sighed and crossed your arms in front of your chest. "You know, you can't expect me to indulge you if you never tell me what you want", you said with a genuine tone. Leona sighed. He knew you were right. "Can you resume with the ear thing?", he mumbled and grabbed your hand to hold in his. After a bit of hesitation he added an even quieter "please", which made your hand wander back to his ear and gently caress the soft fur.
You could feel Leona relaxing and his breathing became very calm. He closed his eyes again and his tail curled around your leg as he left featherlight kisses on the wrist of your other hand. You looked down at him with a smile.
It was still pretty early in your relationship and you knew Leona had trouble opening up to you about his feelings and wanting your affection. He felt a little like that would make him look even more pathetic if you one day just chose to leave him for someone better. He became so used to only being second-best, that his sense of pride; originally used to protect him; has gotten in the way of him making the most of your time together. But as time went on, he'd become more comfortable addressing his wishes and feelings with you and for now you were ready to give him the patience he needed.
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alexa-fika · 5 months ago
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Reptiles 101 ( Crocodile x f!reader)
A/N I don’t watch game of thrones so I had no idea who this is I still am quite insecure as to if I capture her character right but I hope you enjoy it! @djloveyou3000
Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in Japanese
Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/fireflygraphics
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Dokucha gazed at the small creature in her hands, marveling at its unique features. The creature, in turn, seemed to appreciate her touch, emitting a contented hiss as she stroked its spine.
A small smile played on Dokucha’s lips as the Banawani siblings, in their playful nature, tugged at her dress, vying for her attention, wishing for the same treatment their siblings were enjoying.
“Don’t fight,” she softly spoke as the small creatures began snapping at each other, trying to get leverage over the other.
“How about you make a line?” She gently asked, nudging the fighting reptiles away from each other, letting out a small laugh as they began to jump on top of each other in order to do as she requested
“There you are, Dear. I should have guessed you were going to be here,” Crocodile drawled, walking into his aquarium-like room.
“Guessing is not necessary; you already know me to be here.”
He let out a chuckle at her words, smoke leaving him as he did
“You spoil them too much, anymore and I will be doubting they can continue to do their job anymore,” he drawled, approaching her.
“These ones are still small; I would be worried if they served as part of your disposal team.”
“It’s never early enough to pull your weight; even the young ones need to eat.”
She shook her head at this, her attention being brought back to the small reptiles at the sound of their jaws snapping impatiently; she smiled as she lifted the first one up and gave them a small kiss, putting them down and taking hold of the next one who by now was wiggling with excitement.
“I do implore you to let the young ones grow some before you begin using them to get rid of those who wrong you; I fear they are unable to digest something so big just yet.”
“I will allow them to grow some more if that is what you wish, dear; however, do remember I am not a patient man,” he conceded after a slight pause.
“I know you aren’t, Dear, but it will do you well to wait in this case; nothing is stronger than a Bananawani’s jaw once they are grown.”
“I will trust your word then.”
“Of course, you will; I know more about their growth and attributes than you do,” She replied bluntly, not missing a bear.
He let out a small tsk at her reply, but a smirk could be seen growing on his face shortly after
Their attention was quickly diverted as screams and crashing sounds began to echo through the aquarium room as they glanced to the roof of the aquarium where the casino was located.
“Looks like their next meal will be soon,” Crocodile growled as he swiftly headed to the exit, only to be stopped by his wife’s call.
“Would you take care of this promptly? I rather miss spending time with you.”
“As the Queen of the Desert wishes,” He calls, making his way out of the aquarium.
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Next up is Whitebeard pirates 👀; also whag we thinking of the new headers?
Taglist:
@Imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
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scaranation · 2 years ago
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༊*·˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒’ 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐓
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header art by @/kkaags on twitter
Pairing: chess captain!Ayato x reader
Content: fluff, headcannons, modern high school au, ayato is slightly a red flag on this one
You joined the chess club as a newcomer to the game, where Ayato introduces himself as a fellow beginner. You think he's just terrible at chess - after all, how could he lose to you so often? However, as time goes on, you begin to question if you're the one who's been playing into his hands all this time...
a/n - was just rereading ayato lore and remembered he plays chess, so i wanted to write about him doing it in a modern chess setting where he's absolutely whipped for the reader 😭 i cant stop writing about desperate genshin men im so sorry
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chess captain!ayato, who’s been harbouring a small crush on you ever since you stepped foot in campus. despite taking different classes, you’d always be the centre of his attention, even if you rarely interacted with him.
chess captain!ayato, who’s elated to see you join the club. the moment you confess to being a beginner, he flashed you a smile before asserting that he, too, was new to the game.
chess captain!ayato, who revelled in the gleeful look on your face whenever you won a game against him. he’d take care to fumble right into your victory each time, just to feel his heart flutter when you smiled.
chess captain!ayato, who’d play exactly as you wanted when you tried book moves for the first time. oh, you were attempting a scholar’s mate? he’d ‘accidentally’ fall right into the trap, feigning shock as you smugly pushed your queen to F7.
chess captain!ayato, who ignored the incredulous looks everyone else shot him when he blundered his way through every game with you. as a highly accomplished player - winning all the tournaments he competed in - it certainly was a sight to see the kamisato ayato open with pawn to H4.
chess captain!ayato, who would only play at his true level when you weren’t looking. his favourite hobby was to push the worst move possible and watch your thinly veiled happiness as you won yet again, pretending to be annoyed when you teased him for his ‘stupidity’.
chess captain!ayato, who would leave ayaka to run the club as his vice captain whenever he was busy in a game with you. he enjoyed the expression on your face as you thought, the light twitching of your lips to murmur ghostly syllables to yourself. he liked to imagine how those lips would feel on his.
chess captain!ayato, who would desperately try to prevent you from realising he wasn’t exactly as bad as you thought he was. when you were talking to your friends about how absolutely hopeless he was at chess, he’d shoot them a silencing look to staunch their shocked expressions. if you tried to look up previous records from tournaments, you’d somehow find yourself in conversation with him and forget about what you were doing entirely.
chess captain!ayato, who’d nod eagerly and let you ‘coach’ him in chess. he’d smile so delicately as you bid him good luck before a tournament, whilst everyone else idly wondered why on earth the feared ayato would need help to be reminded of piece value.
chess captain!ayato, who’d be too immersed to notice you if you walked in on him playing a proper game. you’d be stunned at the way his fingers gracefully snapped the pieces into position without hesitation, the subtle clink of lacquered wood against the board reasonating through the room as he claimed piece after piece. he was nothing like the foolish, impulsive player you’d versed countless other times.
chess captain!ayato, who’d study his opponents with an almost terrifying look of sheer calculation. his eyes would skim emotionlessly over the board, lithe hands almost flying between the pieces and the timer. occasionally, a cold smirk or two would escape - indicative of his incoming victory.
chess captain!ayato, who’d look so wounded when you found out - acting like you’d caught him cheating on your non-existent relationship. you’d only feel embarrassed at having thought you were better than this absolute menace of a player, whilst he apologised time and time again before (timidly) asking you to play one more round.
chess captain!ayato, who’d then offer to properly teach you outside of school hours. of course, he didn’t view them as tutoring sessions - he saw them as dates. or, perhaps, just opportunities for him to admire your face until he reached the stage of his plan where he could ask you out, and you’d be too equally infatuated to refuse.
Checkmate.
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libraryofgage · 8 months ago
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Life in Miniature (Two)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually
Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two (you're here!) Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three
So, I'm not dead, despite any suspicions otherwise lmao; life just got a little wild and I needed a tiny break from writing, but hopefully I'll be back! We'll see! I'm literally on my knees begging my brain so maybe it'll stick lmao
Anyway, this part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi! If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here
Also also! I actually commissioned a wonderful friend of mine (@gamanyne) to draw Emperor Steve! She also did my current header and icon, so you know her art is fucking peak. Anyway, it'll be attached at the bottom of the fic so have fun getting there
And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
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"Heard the guard mention you've got some new blood in your display, Ocky."
Octavius glanced over as Jedediah sauntered through the hidden tunnel that connects their displays. It had been built during their admittedly embarrassing courtship, a gift from that time's night guard.
He'd been waiting for exactly this moment, and some of his nervous energy drained when Jedediah stood close enough for their shoulders to brush. He turned to face Jedediah, staying close so he can keep his voice quiet. "Yes, a new battalion and..."
"And?"
"A young emperor."
Jedediah whistled lowly, eyebrows rising as he looked over Octavius's shoulder at the buildings across the display. It was all pillars and domes and aged marble, but newly added splashes of color could be spotted here and there. "He a brat?" Jedediah asked.
"He is my sovereign!"
"Yeah, sure," Jedediah said, shrugging as he met Octavius's eyes, "but is he a brat?"
Octavius felt indignation rise in his chest but quickly subdued it. He knew Jedediah meant well. And then he saw the smirk on Jedediah's face. "Lover or not, I can not tolerate insults to the emperor," he said.
Jedediah hummed and held his hands up in surrender. "Still ain't answered my question, Ocky."
"I don't know!" Octavius finally exclaimed, looking away when Jedediah blinked at his outburst. "Admittedly, I was more focused on seeing you than meeting him."
"Gee, almost sounds like you've got a crush on me, Ocky. That's kinda embarrassing, don't you think?"
"We have done things that would make satyrs blush, Jedediah. Are we not past embarrassment?"
"Still embarrassing," Jedediah said, grinning wider when Octavius finally looked back at him. "Don't worry, Ocky. He's just a kid. You've got nothing to worry about."
"Child emperors do not have the most...positive reputation," Octavius said. He frowned, looking away as Jedediah glanced over his shoulder again. "Many are spoiled and unaware of how politics should be conducted."
"Ocky...," Jedediah whispered, reaching out to tug on Octavius's cape.
Octavius smiled, appreciating the comforting gesture. "Short tempers are also common, and I worry about any palace staff that anger him. They are just as likely to have their head cut off as they are to walk away."
"Uh, Ocky," Jedediah said, tugging on the cape again.
"And perhaps I am getting ahead of myself, but I don't look forward to measures that may need to be taken if my soldiers are terrorized by a, well, as you put it, love, a brat."
"Ocky!" Jedediah shouted, grabbing Octavius's shoulders and spinning him around.
"Ah," Octavius said, a cold sweat covering him at the sight of the young emperor staring at them. Strands of brown hair fell over the golden laurels at his temples to curl around equally brown eyes. He's taller than Octavius expected, nearly reaching his own height, and older, too. He was, perhaps, around 20, meaning he had several years' experience as emperor.
Above all, though, Octavius managed to see the brief flash of...insecurity? Perhaps it was self-directed disappointment and acceptance? Whatever it was, it vanished the next moment as the young emperor pressed his lips into a thin line, rolled his shoulders back, and said, "General Octavius."
Hearing the young emperor's voice finally freed Octavius from his frozen shock. He cleared his throat, placed a fist over his heart, and bowed to the emperor. "Your Majesty," he said, "What can I do for you?"
"You can raise your head," the young emperor said. When Octavius did, he saw tensed shoulders, and he was briefly overcome by the thought that someone so young should not, in fact, look as if they carry the weight of the world. "I intended to have you introduce me to the soldiers, but I see that you're busy."
Octavius cleared his throat and stepped aside so Jedediah was easier to see. He then placed a hand on Jedediah's shoulder and said, "My liege, this is Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and my close companion."
"Woah, woah, cowboy king?" Jedediah whispered, glancing at Octavius like he might be crazy.
"Ah, I see," the young emperor replied, nodding respectfully to Jedediah. ""I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods. I look forward to making your acquaintance at a later date."
"Uh, yeah, acquaintance making and stuff," Jedediah said, nodding back with a strained smile. "I'll be sure to pencil ya in."
"Yes, well," the young emperor replied, his jaw ticking slightly like he wanted to say something but held himself back. "Until then."
Octavius watched as he turned on his heel and walked back to the palace. It wasn't until the emperor was halfway there that Jedediah leaned closer and asked, "He seem a little off to you?"
"Yes, a little."
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Steve glances at Eddie, both to make sure he isn't about to fall off Rexy and just because he wants to. Eddie's hair is a little frizzy and his cheeks are flushed, but Steve assumes that's just from performing in front of such a large crowd earlier.
"So, you are a performer," he says as Rexy makes his way to the stairs. "Who did you apprentice under?"
"I didn't," Eddie replies, frowning slightly. "I mean, I just taught myself. Like, with YouTube and stuff."
"Oh! Yes, YouTube, I have seen many cat videos with Robin. I was unaware there were other kinds of videos available."
Eddie snorts, and Steve thinks it's a surprisingly endearing sound. "Yeah, definitely more than cat videos, Stevie," he says, drumming his fingers along Rexy's skull before asking, "So, uh, you're an emperor...does that mean there's an empress?"
"No," Steve says, glancing away and returning Attila the Hun's wave when they pass him. "I should have, but it just never happened."
"Why not? Is it okay to ask?"
"I don't mind. It was naive and bullheaded of me, but I wanted an empress I actually liked."
"Nothing wrong with wanting love, sweetheart," Eddie says, bumping their shoulders together.
"I agree."
Silence settles over them, and Steve wonders if feeling this awkward is normal. He's never had a problem keeping a conversation going with Robin, and his fathers are plenty good at bantering. But here, he's not sure how to proceed. Robin once told him that he can come off as arrogant, someone others don't want to be around, and he's trying to not do that with Eddie.
He thinks Eddie is handsome. If Steve could only convince him, he's sure a chest-plate and shield would make Eddie look particularly dashing. Steve also likes the way Eddie looks at him. It's not quite the devotion he's seen from people under his rule; Eddie's gaze is far more heated than that, making Steve's skin prickle wherever it lands.
"Hey," Eddie says, pulling Steve out of his thoughts, "how's all this coming to life stuff really work? It's not actually that tablet thing, right?"
"It is," Steve replies, nodding once. "Ahkmenrah's tablet was a gift from his parents, who wanted their family to stay together even in death. It harnesses the power of noble Luna and the stars that surround her to breathe life into everyone here. Without his presence, you and I wouldn't be talking right now."
"That's....kind of crazy," Eddie says, trying to wrap his brain around it. "I mean, magic?"
"How else might we be alive right now? According to Robin, you and I are but plastic, perhaps wax or wood depending on our manufacturer."
"But I don't feel like plastic or whatever," Eddie replies, poking at his own arm before poking at Steve's as well. "Neither do you. You feel, like, warm and alive."
"Yes, because of the tablet's magic. Would you like to see it? Ahkmenrah is very understanding of new exhibits that wish to look upon it."
Eddie looks like he's about to nod when he suddenly stops and tilts his head. Steve looks in the direction his gaze has gone and smiles when he sees the temporary exhibit about the history of party fashion. It's only in the museum for a few more days, and the people inside have been partying even harder in the face of their fleeting mortality.
Steve assumes Eddie's attention was attracted by the music, so he looks back and asks, "Would you like to join them?"
"Aren't we, uh, a little small for that?" Eddie asks.
Steve grins as he knocks on Rexy's skull twice. The dinosaur comes to a sliding halt outside the exhibit and lowers its head until its jaw is touching the ground. "Do you trust me?" Steve asks, standing and offering his hand to Eddie.
"Uh, yeah, I think," he says, taking Steve's hand.
His grin widening, Steve tugs Eddie to his feet and then leads him carefully down Rexy's skull. When they reach its snout, they're still a few feet off the ground. "Please don't say I have to make that jump," Eddie says, frowning at the distance.
"Don't worry," Steve says, letting go of Eddie's hand in favor of simply picking him up instead. "You're not the one jumping."
Eddie's eyes are wide as he clings to Steve's neck, glancing between the floor and Steve like he might be insane. Steve flashes a bright, reassuring smile before walking to the edge of Rexy's snout and simply jumping down.
"Holy shit!" Eddie shouts, holding onto Steve tighter and flinching when he feels the jolt of Steve landing. "You're crazy. How are your legs not broken?"
"I am the son of a god," Steve says, carefully placing Eddie on his feet once more. "A mere jump wouldn't harm me."
Eddie is quiet for a few moments, his face red as he looks at the entrance to the exhibit. He takes a deep breath, nods once, and says, "Man, they'd better have tequila in there."
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Tag List (if you'd like to be added, please let me know!)
@itsall-taken, @acaademicqueer, @mx-jinxous, @y4r3luv, @daydreaming-mood, @just-a-tiny-void, @villainousalair,
So, as promised, here is the art I commissioned from my wonderful friend @gamanyne of Steve in his Roman outfit!
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