#He's getting the princely treatment today

[soulsxng]

Consider this a plotting/starter call for some royalty verse stuff! Starters will be set during the gala in Setia. Specify a muse, or I'll come crashing into your dms with my nachos.

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine you are the third head of the dragon.

Warnings: explicit smut, drama, angst—fluffy endings tho. We stand happy Aemond and happy Aegon; long post.

***

• (I)

You are the only princess of the four children of King Viserys and his second wife after the demise of Princess Helena before you were even born.

So at the time of your birth your grieving mother relied on you, giving you perhaps a different treatment that she conceded your brothers. The Queen is definitely more protective to you.

As you grow, robust and lively, you find yourself looking for a place between Aemond and Aegon.

To complicate things, your father neglects you and your mother starts to busy herself with queenship.

This is the background you find yourself for the moment. Overshadowed by an older sister you've never seen, ignored by two brothers who are constantly at each other, loneliness is your companion and you feed it with books, sharpening your mind as you grow.

It happens, however, that you find Aemond at the library this day. You'd quickly turn out had he not spoken to you first.

"Come here, Y/N. Why do I get the sensation that you are fleeing from me?"

You do as told.

"I do not think you appreciate my company for whenever I am nearby you disappear."

Leaving the book aside, he looks up and greets you with a small smile.

"So the princess speaks. Well, if it happens to be so it's because I have other tasks. Unfortunately our lessons are scheduled for different parts of a day."

Seeing you are still untrusting his words, Aemond sighs and moves to where you are.

"Come now, Y/N. What are you intending to read today?"

As one looks to the other, the initial distrust is overcome. Whatever Aemond sees in you finds home in how you let him in too.

*

Aegon sees you the moment he leaves Sunfyre.

The four and ten year boy watches as you, four years younger, pace lonely around the gardens.

He'd usually have no time to waste if the person in question was Aemond, but something about you changes his mind and he turns around.

"Is this a Targaryen trait to be able to read a book and walk at the same time?"

You raise your head and chuckle at his words.

Aegon has always been the unreachable elder brother, but for some reason you are like a sunbeam whenever he looks at you. And he is proud of himself for making you smile.

"I cannot say, but if this is the case then it is a gift I can at least claim."

Aware this hints at the fact you haven't reclaimed a dragon to yourself yet, the prince softens towards you.

"Dreamfyre is out there, you know."

"I cannot",

", and your smile falters. "It was hers."

Rarely the Queen spoke of Princess Helena to you. The sister whom you've never met was the eldest (she'd be joined by Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron before you came to this world) of the family, after Rhaenyra. She had claimed a dragon when she was two and ten, and had she lived today, she would be counting a second decade in this world.

But due to a sickness, two years after Helena delighted in riding Dreamfyre, she was no more. It did impact her family in many ways and you, born six years later, still feel daunted by her memory.

"Y/N", Aegon understands well what you left unsaid. "This is not how she would have liked to be remembered."

"You say it so because mother doesn't compare you to her like she does to me."

In pain, a bond rises. Aegon is surprised himself when he notices it.

"Oh, how mistaken you are, dear Y/N. I too wonder at times if it wasn't better for us all that the Gods spared her instead of me."

You take his hand in yours and you like how warm his skin is.

"Do not say so. You are good to me, Aegon. You can be good. Do not forget it."

That evening, Aegon could believe there is hope somewhere. About what? He cannot say.

***

• (II)

Tensions between Rhaenyra's offspring and the Queen's are growing slow, but intently. You have noticed how often Aemond has been mocked for not having a dragon to claim, a topic that is quite sensitive to you as well.

These are the moments where you come out of your cave.

"Leave him alone. It seems to me that neither of you are capable of understanding that it's to the Gods' decide whenever we bond with our dragons."

Lucerys laughs disdainfully at you, and Aemond sees you going red. A bad sign. He holds your hand as if he's trying to prevent you to get into a fight that is not yours.

But when Baela snaps back, the unexpected happens. You are brought to an unpredictable display of ire, pushed to the point where you knock her down.

"Shut up, won't you?!"

It doesn't get worse because Aemond interferes and, together with a very impressed Aegon, you are taken off the room. But the implications of the day only worsened your moods when Aemond himself loses an eye because of Lucerys.

"I am glad in you I can trust", says Aemond in a rare display of affection, of fragility.

You hold him tight.

"I cannot forgive myself for being absent this day. I failed to protect you, Aemond. For that I'm sorry."

He looks at you, partially amused.

"You are my younger sister. It's I who should say so, not you."

"Nevertheless..."

"Don't, Y/N. I'll be fine."

Neither speak for a moment. It's here where the lines are drawn out, where there is a subtle modification in the nature of the relationship between him and you. But what would you know?

***

• (III)

Here you are, watching Aegon flying with Aemond. Despite your pride, you took the opportunity to ride with your boys. The rarity of the occasion-where you, a rider unclaimed, had the chance to mount a very ancient dragon and another relatively younger-helps strengthening the bonds between you three.

But as you are tired, you are merely an observer.

Lying down in the green grass of the open field, a spot where you like to spend your time with your siblings, here is usually your safe haven, where no one troubles you —where the deranged concept of paradise can be traced in the back of your mind.

However, your flaws give you little time to rest upon. You are constantly reminded that everyone has a dragon but you. Though your father has shockingly observed Dreamfyre has no rider, you refuse to take the dragon of the sister whom everyone loved as yours.

Thus it is you start to recount in the back of your mind the dragons left yet to be tamed-if yet they can be claimed so. It's when your are reminded of a dragon as old as Vhagar... one of the kind that has long been left with no rider to claim as its own.

The arduous task emanates behind your eyes.

Ambition rises in your chest, but you are up to it.

When you observe Amond and Aegon up in the skies, you whisper to yourself:

"I am by no means lesser than any of them. I'll show them all I am the third head of the dragon."

A deadly promise that certainly has the eager ears of the divine.

*

The day chosen for this is, in fact, right after your lord father has died. Aegon has been chosen a king in opposition to Rhaenyra and as conspiracies roll to dethrone your elder sister in favour of a male heir, in similar parallels to the same council attended by King Jaehaerys many moons ago which determined that Prince Viserys would inherit the throne against Princess Rhaenys' rights, you follow your lead.

It happens to be a storming day, a bad omen to many-depending of the point of view. To a start, you are betrothed to Aegon.

"I have always assumed you'd have Lady Baela at your side", you are heard musing to your inexpressible elder brother.

Aegon limits himself giving you a long look.

"As if, my dear Y/N. As if!"

You chuckle quietly. And the sound of it makes the elder of the three to smile genuinely. Indeed, as you notice for the first time, it is a good sight to admire.

The now king who is styled as Aegon II seems to notice something different in you too. But this exchange of glances ends abruptly as businesses are conducted-and you notice that Aemond, a silent witness that is so easily mistaken to a shadow, doesn't like what he sees so he leaves.

You sigh and stand, going after him in spite of your mother's protests that you should stay so the betrothal is announced... But as you part nonetheless, Aegon's eyes refuse to follow you.

It appears I must learn to share.

The new king finds this concept a rather odd one, but his namesake did the same, so why not do the same? As he plays with his finger and hears the council planning his coronation day, Aegon realizes this may not be such a bad idea.

After all... there must be three heads of the dragon.

He shivers.

*

Aemond stands at the yard, his chest heavy, smashed by the weight of wishing everything he cannot possessed. He wishes they could see that it's Aemond, not Aegon, better suited for the crown, better suited for...

"Aem", like a whisper, like a prayer your voice comes to his ears.

Aemond slowly turns only to spot you dressed in dark green robes, hair split in two long braids.

You've turned to a woman, no longer the introspective child that feared his presence.

"Y/N", he whispers too.

"You left the council."

"So did you".

Silence. Aemond can tell you are irritated by his words. By how you breathe, he knows you are upset. And he wishes things are otherwise, but what can he do when you are out of reach?

"You should have stayed", you insist.

"What for? I have no use there", Aemond scoffs.

"This is not the true." When you slip towards him, the prince finds in your gaze a very obstinate trait that, however, is tempered by your gentleness.

Some you remind him of his ancestor, Queen Rhaenys. "We must stick together. The world out there is cruel, Aemond. We need each other."

His hands are now resting around your waist-an imperceptible gesture, done almost unconsciously—, drawing you closer, even though you need not so much encouragement to do it willingly.

When have these sentiments begun to change?

Or have they always been there? A question Aemond does not dare to pose even if they are detected in his good one eye, softened as you raise your right hand to stroke his cheek-and he does not push you away.

"I have never failed my duty, Y/Nickname", like the boy he was, he opens up to you. "But you are not mine to claim even though l'd be a better husband to you."

You smile and it is as if the clouds open up to let the light come in.

"I know you have not. Which is why I'm asking you to stay", you lean forward and Aemond detests the trap he's led into. "We need you. Perhaps not all is lost...”

You tilt your head, letting words be spoken.

Aemond knows that where you are concerned, there is no way to say otherwise. Haven't it always been like this?

Thus it is not entirely surprising that he cedes at your charms by wrapping his hands around your neck and looses the control of his impulses by locking his lips with yours.

You sigh in content, not fighting this urge nor repressing the sentiment that has always been there. You respond his kiss, gladly letting yourself be involved. For where darkness lies ahead, Aemond provides you some light.

"It seems better", says he when you both pull apart to catch some air, "to share you with him than with a stranger."

"I'm glad we have finally agreed", you smile like the silly thing you are.

Despite these merrier circumstances, you are very mindful of what's to be done. And you have no need to wait further for it... even though as you prepare to it, Aegon spots you.

"Never took you for sneaking, Y/N", the king comes at you, and you see in his eyes a mix of feelings that being tossed to such a high position brings him. "Is it me the cause of your elope?"

"I am not eloping, Aegon", you say calmly but firmly. "I have no reason to do so."

Aegon scoffs and an old wound is opened to bleed.

"I am not like Aemond. I understand that it is him you opt to be wedded to."

You sigh, aware of the task that awaits you.

Nevertheless, you are not someone known to be a quitter. You step forward, shortening the distance that for so long has been great.

"You are not unlovable, Aegon. In these peril times, we must not be apart of each other. Feelings do not make us kings. Duties do."

"Bards tend to claim that duties are the death of love", Aegon shoots you a long gaze, still distrustful of your intentions.

You let silence hang loose as you take his hand, moulding into yours as fingers are intertwined. It feels surprisingly good, warm and cozy. You stare at what this union means and you look up at him.

Aegon seems to share the surprise when observing how well your hands are. Little by little tension begins to fade.

"Duties should not be the death of duty. They can coexist." Your thumb rubs around his skin. "There must be three dragons, Aegon."

He sighs.

"I cannot protest against it."

"You can. I am not forcing you into anything for you are the king, after all."

Aegon snorts. It takes little time before he pulls you against him and lifts your chin so his lilac eyes reflect your ones.

"How grown and witter you've become, Y/N", and a sly smirk curls upon your lips when his eyes part to look down at your heavy breathing chest.

"Quite a woman indeed."

Experiencing this lust is to taste the fire of the dragon. Aegon smirks when reading these new sentiments that rise in you. But frustratingly.. he lets go of you.

"I shall best wait for our wedding feast. You'll not be disappointed. Have a good evening, my dear Y/ N."

How your name rolls out of his lips gives you shivers. You wish you could plead him to stay, you are tempted to follow your impulses... but as the king walks off, you let him think victory is with him. For this night you are expected elsewhere.

*

To cool off your womanly needs that have recently risen, you resignify your actions. There is a soft rain pouring this night and you are wearing your court gown. Guarded by two guards and a lady of your trust, you confide your life into the unknown.

You lead the way to the cave where a dragon as old as tale is left in his asleep. For years untroubled, no one dared to claim him. But you... you want more. You've always aimed higher. And we are not speaking of the game of thrones.

Wild as a beast, you are not the royal daughter of House Targaryen whose beauty has earned a rare comparison to Queen Rhaenys. Some bards dare to say you are her incarnation. You are you, Y/N of House Targaryen.

The third head of the dragon. The dragon they need.

Thus you venture inside the cave.

***

• (IV)

The moment you land Aegon's Hill with Vermithor is when every question about your apparent disappearance is answered. Aemond and Aegon are indeed surprised to find in the sweet and delicate sister they share a formidable ally in the upcoming war.

"Y/N, this is very bold of you", your mother tells you in between awe and annoyance. "To leave out in the dark without any explanation... do you realize how wrong this all could have gone to?"

"I'm sorry, mother, but I had to try."

"Wouldn't Dreamfyre be sufficient to you?"

"No. I am not here to supplant my deceased sister, but to be my own self."

The dowager queen doesn't like the answer she gets of you, but at the same time she sees herself in this precise response. She takes your hand into hers and you are more than pleased that you two come to terms about it.

Later that day, when you prefer not to be included in the green's council, Aemond comes at you. You are found at the backyard, reading under a tree.

"I pray I am not interrupting anything."

You lift up and the rogue prince smiles to himself when seeing how lighted up you are at his presence. You quick move to where he is and Aemond is drowned to your presence, burying his face in your neck.

"Gods, I missed you", you say, hands stroking his long hair. "I wish we were not part of this, Aemond."

"Neither did I, but we must protect Aegon at all costs" , says the prince, now stepping back to look at you. He sees through your beauty, aware that this is someone bold like him, rider of an ancient dragon. You are every inch of Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror's blood.

Hands intertwine as gazes are locked. Whatever path this conflict is leading all of you to, you are prepared to take part of it.

"We must and we will." You stroke his face. "We need each other, Aemond. We truly do."

"For we are the three heads of the dragon", muses Aemond, taking your free hand to his lips, upon which he presses a kiss. "I know it as much as you do."

You lean forward to kiss his lips. To feel him one more time is a must, but this is not a goodbye.

This should not feel so.

Specially because Aemond has other plans to weave.

*

Meanwhile, you opt to visit Aegon in his privy quarters. It has been some time since the two of you had a moment to yourselves...and you detest the anguishing possibility that he's been avoiding you.

Aegon is found sharing a drink with his mates when he sees you. Embellished in a mix of green and red, your hair is long lose in curls that match your delicate features.

Can he look away before this view? He cannot. What is more, you are naturally seductive and yet completely ignorant of the power you have in others.

Aegon thus finds reasonable to dismiss his friends and greet you properly.

"What a delighted surprise it is to find you here, Y/N."

"Should it be so?", you take a seat next to him. "I shall be your wife within days and even though it is an arranged marriage, I believe we must make the best out of it."

Aegon looks at you as if he's trying to read your true intentions, but you are being as genuine as your nature permits you to be. He chills then.

"I've always considered Aemond to be a better match for you."

"We cannot be apart of each other, Aegon. Not in these perilous times", and here you take his hand, gently holding it. "You are not by yourself."

Aegon doesn't answer at first. You stand and move to where he is, daring to involve him in an embrace. His head is now against your chest, and you stroke his hair as he holds you against him.

His breath against your skin gives you shivers. But you know what you are doing.

Little by little, right at the throne chamber, where only the fireplace is the witness, Aegon starts to unlace your gown and his lips are suddenly over the swell of your breasts going up to your neck.

You smile, very inclined to it-you move your hip to sit right over his, letting him do whatever he wants with you. Because you are not so innocent, hardly a lamb-you are just as passionate as he is.

And his lips going to your neck so hungrily, makes you wipe out reason of your mind. You moan softly, pleased to be introduced to this matter.

Aegon's left hand moves to your hips and legs, lifting your skirt, his teeth claiming your neck all the while.

And you throw your head back, eyes barely closed when his eager flingers find his ways to your aching womanhood.

"Has he touched you?", Aegon whispers in your ear, biting down your earlobe and smirking pleasantly when seeing you shiver.

"No. It is my husband's merit to do so", you tell him, feeling his aroused member pump against your womanhood.

You'd gladly move against it, rubbing yourself in the process, but his finger suddenly finds the way to your core.

"Oh Gods!", you cry out.

Aegon smiles pleasantly. His smile, burning bright like the sun, is so captivating. And yet here you are, subdued to him as he touches you in such an indecent manner.

"Mm." He buries his head in your neck, holding you close, always tender, always considerate to you. "Yes, my dear Y/N. Come to me, will you?"

You are experiencing a new kind of bliss, so indescribable, that you cannot help yourself being so loud. You cling onto him, your lips desperately looking for his to clash.

It’s a different sensation to kiss your betrothed, and him, likewise. A new bond is forged from fire and blood. The result of it… Aegon feels right in his hand.

“I told you”, you cup his face as you rest your forehead against his, “that you are not unlovable nor undesired, Aegon.”

You are breathless by the time you pursuit him. For the first time in a while, Aegon grants you permission to let you in. As he cuddles you, hands wrapped around your waist, the king says:

“Gods be good for sending you, my darling.”

“Anything for my king, my love.”

And you mean every word of it.

***

• (V)

Right before the marriage is officially celebrated in the common rites of Westeros, another is on its way under the rites of Old Valyria. For both brothers espouse you as their wife.

“Who’d see this day coming?”, says Aegon in a jest. “Like the good old days.”

Aemond shoots him a meaningless look.

“Better it keep in the family than out of it.”

“The dragons must be three”, you say, rather moved by a strange intuition that occurs you every now and then. “Three. Not two. Never two.”

“The old should hardly have been replaced by the new”, says Aemond. “Tradition is something very few valued these days.”

“Quite the opposite, brother”, says Aegon in good mood. “We are prevailing, can you not see it?”

So the ceremony proceeds after all of the tree has come to an agreement that this is a secret with few to share…

*

Later that evening, you try not to look so nervous as the bedding feast begins. You spot a discreet Aemond retiring and you partly fear that he will not join you and Aegon. The mere idea, though, gives you shivers and begins to shake your nerves.

Aegon, seeing how you struggle to conceal your true sentiments, takes your hand under the table and gives a light squeeze. Then he leans discreetly to whisper in your ear:

“All in your time, my dear. If you do not wish to partake it, I can…”

“No”, you tell him firmly. “I shall perform my duties accordingly. Besides…”, and here you flash him a mischievous smirk, “…this is something I’ve been looking forward to do.”

Aegon smirks at you, but when he reclines back to his chair to down another glass, his eyes remain glued in you. He knows you more than you’d have judged.

And yet when he comes to take your hand into his, you dare to look at him again and now… as you two share a look, you feel at ease for the very first time.

*

When you get to the privy quarters, you are putting up with a confidence you lack. You dress only one line robe over your nude frame and your silver hair hangs loose on your back.

The door opens and to your surprise you find Aegon and Aemond, both waiting for you. They are talking as if nothing different is about to happen, as if this is a regular day to them both.

You are rather relieved to see them getting along like they have always been—partners, brothers and friends. Aegon doesn’t look troubled like he often is whenever he’s at the council or nearby his Hightower relatives, your mother being one of them.

His hair is slightly shorter, hanging it at his neck, a complete mess of curls. He is wearing his me nightgown, which shows his bare legs and… You blush at the sight of his manhood, something you’ve never had a glimpse before.

It is a struggle to look at Aemond, though, who is dressed similar. You think you are about to faint, but the subtle warmth you experience in your womanhood certainly prevents you to shy away of consuming this union you’ve longed to arrange.

As you step forward silently so, all eyes are now on you. Aegon and Aemond share a look as if there’s a silent agreement about something. It feels as if they have already discussed how this is going to be.

“Our wife looks stunning this evening”, says Aegon, coming forward to greet you. He takes your wrist and there presses a linger kiss, and something about how you react to this simple gesture makes him smirk. “Do you not think so, brother?”

“Ever the charming”, and here comes Aegon, standing by your right, his slander hand gently touching your curls. “She, whose beauty is unmatched, has come to love us both.”

“Equally”, Aegon sublimes it, very pleased to detect a blush on your paled cheeks. Standing by your left, he gently strokes your face, before slipping a hand to your chest, thus starting to unlace your robes.

“Equally”, Aemond agrees, gently touching your jawline and neck. “And so do we.”

“For there must be”, Aegon whispers in your ear the moment your robes drop to the floor, “three heads of the dragon.”

You shiver. Speechless, all you can do is appreciate their handsomeness. You touch their faces, letting your gaze transmit all your tongue cannot.

The connection is indeed strong, for neither feels the need to translate to words what has always been understood, accepted and taken into the respective hearts.

As Aemond takes his time in exploring your body, his lips slowly going to your cheek to your neck, it’s Aegon who takes the initiative in showing you the ways of… a marital activity.

“Oh Lords”, it’s all you eventually manage to speak out when Aemond kisses your neck and you start to caress Aegon’s manhood all the whilst you are told so many naughty things that make your womanhood ache.

“Mm”, Aegon groans lightly as he takes your hand and leads the way, teaching you how to caress his erect manhood, pumping all the way. “You are natural in this, Y/N.”

You purr the moment he kisses your lips and Aemond starts to caress your already painfully hardened nipple. You throw your head back, about to lose your balance—but thankfully Aemond has a hand to rest on your lower back.

It is a very promising night. Your innocence is certainly no more as you start to enjoy doing it so. Your lips are now going fervent from one to another, a victim of their prey—for though you believed to have had this all along, when Aegon takes your breasts with his skillful hands only to let Aemond slide to his knees and do wonderfulness in your womanhood… you see this has been woven by them for a long time.

“Ah!”, you throw your head back, already a puddle of mess as Aemond takes you all with his tongue.

“Cry out, Y/N. Scream if you dare”, Aegon smirks, pleased to have you the way he wanted you to be: completely corrupted.

“I cannot…”

“Holding back is only worse, and we haven’t even begun yet.”

When your eyes meet, you realize this is their doing and you are their creature. Thus you explode in orgasms, but Aemond doesn’t shy away from drinking all of it.

*

It is Aegon who has the privilege to bed you first. Aemond is very patient—in fact, he likes to watch and make eye contact with you as the elder of you penetrates you nice and slow. It’s delightfully painful to be in this manner, and you never felt so good nor desired, less so to be loved and admired.

As you are close to get your climax, Aemond takes his part in it. Aegon leaves it him to finish the task, but you want more of it—don’t waste the seed, you ask him.

And you engulf it, when Aegon does as requested.

“Indeed, the three of us are nothing but a great piece of art”, muses Aemond as he throbbes inside you.

In this mix of bodies and pleasures and pain, it is only fair that synchrony does its work and pays it well the effort that is to love two men at the same time.

*

Yet, not all is about bedding activities and indecent leisures. War is still being carried out and news have been bad enough to shake the confidence of the Green Cause.

For it is said that Rhaenyra has accomplished a number of bastards to ride some wild dragons. It means to say Aegon is outnumbered.

Hopeless as it may, neither Aegon nor Aemond are willing to quit a fight. What they must do is put in practice the good old strategy: to divide is to conquer. This means they start to ponder how to do so… when they remember that you are the rider of a dragon as old and powerful as Vhagar is.

“Do not think”, your mother, who’s part of the council, is informed before you do of their intentions, “that Y/N should take part of this. She is too innocent for this matter and has no taste to wage wars.”

Aemond clenches his jaw but Aegon dares to snap back:

“To think we are this low morally, mother, gives the light upon which you see us. Well, let me remind you that Y/N loves to ride and is every bit a Targaryen. To hid her away will not change the fragility that you put me through!”

“I intend to keep your throne by all means I can”, says Alicent just as firm. “But this does not require that I must test all of my offspring.”

“This is war”, says Aemond. “What else do you expect? Innocent and guilt are not spared, nor noble or lowborn folk. If you intend to fight for our cause, well then, light the way.”

Otto Hightower, so far watching the discussion with interesting eyes, decides this is the proper time to interfere.

“I was not expecting a wise remark of Aegon, but there it is. He is right, Alicent. War does not spare anyone and hasn’t Y/N claimed Vermithor? Vantage is in our side and we must use it. Next to Vhagar, no one will stand for us. However… We must reason how to do so.”

“I see how little my own perspective here is considered”, and yet Alicent adds: “Be this if it may. Let us fight with the claws we have. We will indeed light the way to the throne and burn all of those who dare to stand in our path.”

Finally, Aegon smiles. Finally a queen who fights for the rights of her children. It seems the greens have finally been tied in one knot.

*

You are found pacing around the gardens with two ladies a few feet behind in order to grant you some privacy. Having just landed after riding with Vermithor, you need to settle before going back to court.

The court, an ideal world where illusions are played in order to entertain courtiers and put a rein to the noble houses’ ambitions. Ruling it is like ruling a realm. One misstep and diplomatic relations can break.

To keep a certain distance between nobility and the royal household you must dress as significant as possible—for fashion is every princess’s weapon, a form to express power through rich cloth that no one can purchase. This exclusivity has always been part of House Targaryen, the only one to exhibit purple cloth amidst its traditional colours to reinforce its royalty.

Not only you dress fancifully to show your power as Queen, but your manners too are regal and carefully pondered. Always the diplomatic, you are impeccable whenever you entertain men and women who could possibly be working for Rhaenyra right now.

Since you do not like the attention, you appreciate the role that most might judge—your enemies, overall—as superficial. But to work beneath the table always works better.

So here you are resting when he finds you.

“Of all the changes I’ve seen, it is good to see one thing remains the same”.

You turn around to see Aegon in his traditional green robes. The tenderness in his face when seeing you warms your heart and distracts you of this recent exhaustion that has been plaguing your heart. But this perception you do not share with anyone.

“What is that, I wonder?”, you smile warmly as you motion towards him.

Aegon takes your hand before pulling you closer to him.

“That your tastes have not been affected by the transition of age.”

You blush. Who could have foreseen that a bold as this would grow to a deeper sentiment, far more than lust and affection could conceive?

“You know more than you show.”

Aegon takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“How can I not know my lady? My wife and queen, my greatest support.”

“You, as my king and blood of my blood, are more than I deserve.” And here you move boldly to press your lips against his, not minding the protocols.

A serene kiss that, both of you know, not only comes so naturally to physically reinforce this tenderness that involves each, but that tempers the bad news you sense that may come.

“You have something to tell me.”

It is not a question. Aegon sighs, but since Aemond has parted with Vhagar, he is left with the discomfort decision of giving you the resolution of the council.

“How’d you know? Has my discomfort played its card?”

You smile benignly, always the patient.

“When I made you and Aemond the solace of my heart was not only moved by this strange intuition that a dragon must have three heads. It was more than inclination to old prophecies that anyone would understand.” You shrug your shoulders, but none of this surprises your husband, already familiar with the topic.

“This means that when I claimed Vermithor, I was prepared for the day we would be challenged. Your cause is uncontested, my love.”

“I only wish I had not involved you in this.”

You kiss your cheek.

“Not even Rhaenys contented herself with entertaining court for so long. When her Aegon required, she attended her duties. So, mine own liege Aegon, what is it you request of me, your humble wife?”

Aegon swallows, but when he raises his eyes, you see resignation behind them.

So he tells you the plan.

***

• (VI)

The day before the three of you would fly with your dragons and lead your armies to war, you find yourself feeling slightly nauseous. Thankfully a maid came to succor you before you succumbed to your strange new moods.

“Thank you”, you smile at her. “But I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

Early this morning you have found yourself in a strange twist of humour since you’ve been without either of your husbands and bed has been cold. You struggle to be in a good mood when war leaves you anxious and the company of your mother irritates you every now and then.

There is always a great price to pay to keep my emotions in check.

Thankfully though, Aemond is the first to return and you rush to greet him. Today, it’s raining and you do not mind to get wet when you welcome him in your arms.

“Looks like I was missed”, muses the prince with a smirk when being engulfed by you. His hands caress your sides before lifting you and spinning you around.

“You took some time, Aemond. It is unjust to leave me waiting.”

“My apologies, wife, but you know I cannot flee my duties”, and here he takes your hands and kisses each before doing the same to your lips. “I have missed you more than it is sensible to conceive.”

Resting his forehead against yours, Aemond is at peace again, a rarity ever since the war has started—specially after what happened to Lucerys, which had ran out of his control and he never forgave himself for that.

Sensing his troubled soul, you take him inside the castle, trying to distract of his mind. He appreciates the effort, and you two have your privacy at the library, running away of this plagued world for a few moments.

“This is where it all begun”, says Aemond, amused as he scans the shelves where heavy and dusted books are kept. “I recollect you feared me a bit.”

You smile at the memory.

“I thought you were unreachable and that was because you didn’t like me.”

Aemond snorts at you.

“Dislike you?”, he lifts your chin and draws you closer to him, imposing his taller presence in a way that makes you weak in your knees. “How could you nurture such thought?”

You feel like you’ve been dancing with him towards the wall, for you hit your back against it and he presses you in it. It doesn’t help your state that he pulls his knee right in between your legs, rubbing it against your womanhood.

And your reaction is precisely what he expects.

“You… you were often so out of my reach”, you tell in short curt breath. “Aemond, darling, we are not in our privacy.”

He smirks, leaning to peck your lips as he lifts the skirts of your gown. It occurs to him that something about your body looks different, but not knowing what this is, he doesn’t pay attention to it yet.

“Is that so?”, and his hand makes the path he’s so familiar with. “You’ve been lonely, I know.”

You are barely short breathed as you feel it going to your womanhood. Your eye flashes are barely open and the moment his finger starts to do wonderfulness in you, every protocol dies in mute resistance.

“How could you tell?”, you moan, desperately holding onto his shoulders, pulling his hair back before kissing his jawline and burying your lips to his neck.

“Because”, Aemond’s breath hitches for a moment before he whispers, “I know your apetites well.”

“You are the blood of my blood”, and now your hand is quick to find its way to where you want it to be. “It could not be otherwise.”

But Aemond holds your wrists above your head, pinning you further against the wall as he quickly slides his manhood in you just as you are about to reach climax in his skillful hand.

“Aemond!”, you cry out.

“Mine that you are, my queen”, and he shushes you with a fervent kiss all the whilst he bangs you against the wall intently.

*

You are standing outside the castle in your own armor suit. Vermithor has left the dragon’s pit and it seems to feel your anxiety. The old winged beast looks eager to go back to war, to be useful again and you cannot blame him for it. It only mirrors your sense of duty.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N”, you hear your mother’s plead and when feeling her pain, you are moved by it. When you turn at her, you see her struggling between encouragement and fear for her only daughter… and considering the premature death of Princess Helaena, you realize you should have been kinder.

“I know where my duties lay, mother. Let me do this for my house like Queen Rhaenys did for hers.”

“And look what it befell her!”

You side smirk at your mother before pressing a kiss over her forehead.

“We are not fighting the Dornish, mother.”

But as you move to your dragon, Aegon and Aemond seem to reconsider your part in this. When hearing their hesitance, you scoff at them.

“We are in this together whether you like it or not. There is much to be done. I am not merely your wife, but a queen also, a queen who fights for her kings.”

The three of you stay silent for a few seconds. It falls to Aemond the task to give each a charge to put an end to this bloody war. But little do you know what’s yet to roll…

When it is about to each follow the path and mount each dragon respectively, you are taken by a bad feeling that makes you rush to Aegon.

“Wife”, he greets you with that sunny smile that has always been a weakness of yours. The king is adjusting the armor before getting to Sunfyre. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to Y/C?”

“I should, but I came to wish you my luck”, you say, strangely emotional. You come to realize you’ve been very weird lately, but so far you’ve managed to successfully kept a show. “Aegon, do not be imprudent.”

“Well, if anything falls on me, you have Aemond.”

To his surprise, you burst in tears. Aegon softens, having clearly underestimated the degree of affection you have for him. All his life he felt he’s been overshadowed whether by his younger brother or his elder sister, so he struggled to find his own place.

And yet… to see how you love him, even if he’s always agreed to share you with Aemond, aware that you and him had so far more affinities that with him—which he accepted well—, makes him somewhat emotional.

“You are not unlovable, Aegon”, you sob as he breaks in and holds you against him. “Do not dare to say such a thing. You are irreplaceable.”

So this is what it feels like, a thought occurs him. To feel loved.

“I do not deserve you. And you deserve someone better.”

“Shush, you fool. You are not only the king and blood of my blood, but the solace to my poor desolate heart.”

Aegon smiles to himself before lifting your chin and looking right into your eyes.

“My sweet Y/N, this is not the day I plan to die.”

“Do not dare to leave me in this world.”

He kisses you thus and you mewl under his embrace.

“Never.”

Reluctantly, though, Aegon parts of you. Very chivalrous, he takes your hand to his lips and there presses a kiss. The sight of you, not as a regal queen, but a devouted wife transports him to the old songs he used to love as a young man.

Oh but they will sing about us. The song of the three head dragons. The song about the queen who loved her brothers.

The idea encourages him to move forward. But even when he does so, you cannot wipe away the cascade of tears that expose you to an unknown cruciate misery.

*

Moved by strange sentiments, you think wise to follow them. What a sight by many to see you mounting Vermithor.

“There goes my sweet child. My only daughter”, the queen sighs in melancholy as she watches you fly.

“She is very brave, sister”, her brother, Ser Gwayne, says with a hint of pride. “There is a reason why Vermithor chose her and not the other way around.”

His words are very prophetic. And the Black party would be the first to feel its weight.

*

Aegon meets Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was. But it is a rather unmatched fight: Meleys is older and experienced in battle all the whilst this is the first time poor Sunfyre is put to war.

The king holds the reins of his angst, but he tries his best even when the scenario is at his worst. The inevitable seems to occur, the circumstances do not favour him at all.

“I know we can do this”, Aegon mumbles to Sunfyre.

It is when so suddenly a grunting howl breaks through the air. It gives shivers to anyone who hears it. Soldiers down the field interrupt their fighting to see, fearful, who is coming to bring desolation to their cause.

If it is Caraxes, the Greens shake. But this is a dragon older perhaps than Prince Daemon’s winged creature.

Mounting for war, you ride Vermithor well prepared for the fight.

“This is my husband. This is my king and you will not take him of me.”

Vermithor senses the weight of his words. He does not wait for the order, he attacks. Aegon is surprised by how bold you are in battle. And what is more, you came to aid him.

He smiles in relief when seeing Vermithor out power Meleys, even though this is not an easy fight for the Red Dragon has her own experiences.

But Vermithor is deadly, dangerous and… mad. The dragons dance and it is no ordinary dance. One bite in the other’s belly, stretching out until…

“DRACARYS, VERMITHOR!”

A victory for the green cause, but this hasn’t finished yet. Not too far from it comes Baela in her dragon. She flies in complete outrage, but when your gaze meets Aegon’s, well… the princess must be prepared for a double wave of equal display of rage.

***

• (VII)

As war carries on, victories and losses have their prices. Despite the green’s evident advance, you are troubled by the dreams of a battle between your husband Aemond and your uncle Daemon.

To worse matters, Rhaenyra has summoned Targaryen bastards to ride wild dragons. You have been in advanced stages of pregnancy when it all seemed to lead for her upcoming victory—she’s been planting spies in the capital to stand for her cause, which means it is a matter of time before she takes King’s Landing.

“You are staying with our mother at Hightower, should the worse happen”, decides Aegon. “Do not give me this look, Y/N. You might as well as be carrying our heir, so I cannot stress—nor should I—enough the importance of your safety.”

These arguments are reasonable enough to convince you to stay. But to leave Vermithor behind? This is a risk you are unwilling to take.

“You must be out of your senses to suggest flying with your dragon in this state!”, Aemond hears your suggestion completely baffled. “What part of the safety of our unborn child do you not comprehend?”

You gritted your teeth and hiss away, storming off to your chambers. Not a very mature more when you know they are correct in worrying over you—your pregnancy has been giving you some concerns too, since you’ve been feeling exhausted for no reason. But such is the way of a pregnant woman.

“She will come to her senses”, says the Queen dowager. “Y/N has gotten used to be very active in her role, whether as wife, whether as queen, so it is understandable she’s not been taking well to be frustratingly… quiet.”

A sensation that Lady Alicent has been familiar with, but it is only vague since, in truth, she’s been plotting behind the scenes to impede Rhaenyra’s advance.

“Just… make sure the baby comes out well”, says Aemond, concealing the distress that is to go to war and leaving you behind for the first time.

“And make sure she’s safe”, adds Aegon, concerned likewise.

Alicent nods. She smiles at them. Once she found…unusual that the three of her children had linked so deeply in many levels, but now she is proud of the family they’ve become. Otto’s plans, her plans, succeeded and she wished Viserys saw that.

Now they part under grey clouds and mysterious scenes that lay ahead to be fought.

*

To the dowager queen’s surprise your labour is difficult. Perhaps due to your emotional state, it is more complicated that it would be assumed.

The men fight their battles and here you are, fighting yours in your own battlefield: the childbed.

Hours pass and no relief is found. Your screams can be heard in the corridors as you try to follow the midwife’s commands to push.

It really does not help that in this moment you have a sort of dream, a vision of a green battlefield painted in red. The blood of innocent spills in it, screams of terror follow the sound of blades.

Above skies, dragons dance. To your atonement, it is blurred. You cannot spot even the colors of the beasts, but their sounds scratch your ears and you begin to breath anxiously.

“Aegon…. Aemond…”

The sounds turn into cries and eventually… one of the dragons collapses. You shake before the view. Regardless of sides, dragons represent the power of the house Targaryen.

But there must be always three. Three heads of the dragons.

You know not where this certainty has come from. Like your sister Helaena you have dreams, but in your own way. They are not always clear and often come blurred. But this certainty…

Well, what does it matter now? You want to put an end to this misery. So you cry out with all the strength you have.

*

“Daemon Targaryen is dead”, Otto announces proudly and in evident display of emotion. “Gods be good, we are so close to victory.”

“Our plans have finally come to fruition”, Alicent cheers to it, downing another glass of wine. “Once my girl is recovered, I can tell she will give a fantastic ball.”

“Sometimes I am reminded of your mother whenever I look at Y/N”, says he, contemplative. “She has such a merry and firm spirit within that is hard not to be captivated. Helaena would have liked her.”

Sadness flashes behind Alicent’s eyes. Two children she lost in these years—first, Helaena; second, Daeron—and these losses a mother can hardly be fully recovered of.

“Yes, I like to think so. Had Helaena lived, though, this madness wouldn’t go forward.”

“Madness?”, Otto chuckles. “Aegon the Conqueror was not seen as mad when he took his two sisters as his wife. Regardless whether he did for duty or passion, it was wise to keep blood within the family. A trend the House you married to kept.”

“But not like this. Two husbands…”.

Alicent is baffled by the lack of atonement on her father’s part, but his stare leaves her disconcerted.

“Tell me you wouldn’t have done yourself if you had the opportunity. To be wedded to two Targaryens. And you know whom I speak of.”

The dowager queen chooses the silence. It suddenly appears reasonable not to question your matters of heart so openly…

*

You are just recovering when the door opens and you see Aegon and Aemond breaking through. You blush when seen in this state: dressing in a line nightgown, looking tired and paled after a day breastfeeding your twins.

“Oh! You have returned so soon!”, you’d quickly try to throw your robes over your frame, but Aegon promptly stops you to do so.

“Don’t, Y/N. You must rest. It isn’t as if we haven’t seen you undressed before”, says he with a smug smirk that makes you warm. He strokes your hair before being embraced by you. And Aegon is surprised when you start to weep. “Y/Nickname… what are these tears for?”

Aemond is reclined against your bed’s support watching the scene with the same puzzled expression.

“Have you even been churched?”

“I apologize for my overly emotional react. May be motherhood, but whatever it is… I am overjoyed in seeing you both so well! Does this mean we have won?”

Both brothers look at each other and had not been the glimpse of mischief you spot in their gaze, you’d have been despaired.

“Well?”, you insist in not the best of the moods.

“I am uncontestedly the king of Westeros”, says Aegon, very pleased in delivering the news and more so for seeing you smile so brightly. “You’ll know the details later, but first… how have you been?”

It’s when they are told of the children you gave birth to. Jaehaerys and Visenya, very Targaryen names who remit to two of the most powerful Westerosi sovereigns you descend of.

“I like to think Jaehaerys is yours”, says Aemond to Aegon, quite amused before the fact you birthed two children when you married two different men. “And Visenya is mine.”

In this late evening, once everyone is comfortable, you are found in between your husbands.

“Really?”, Aegon chuckles. “Why’s that?”

“Just a feeling I have. But it doesn’t matter this much, does it?”

But you do not take part of the conversation, for exhausted you are, you fall asleep… and for the first time in a long while, it has no green dreams to daunt you…

[pucksandpower]

Ties That Bind

Charles Leclerc x royal!Reader + Max Verstappen x sister!Reader

Summary: life as Princess of the Netherlands is pretty perfect but when health issues become a (literal) royal pain, you discover a familial connection that will change your life forever

Warnings: struggles with infertility, child abandonment, serious health issues, medical procedures and treatments

This is what happens when I’m insane enough to try juggling writing an 8k+ word fic with studying in medical school

The night was a cascade of ethereal snowflakes, each one glistening under the pale moonlight, landing gracefully upon the earth. The silver car glided along the road, its headlights illuminating the path through the thick curtain of snow, like two piercing eyes navigating through sorrow.

Inside, Prince Frederik of the Netherlands drove in silent contemplation, the weight of the day’s news pressing heavily on his heart. Beside him, Princess Marianne stared out of the frosted window, her reflection capturing swollen eyes that glistened with fresh tears. Her fingers trembled slightly, crumpling yet another now irrelevant medical report indicating one more failed IVF attempt.

“I thought this time would be different,” Marianne whispered, her voice quivering. “I truly believed it.”

Frederik’s grip on the wheel tightened. He turned to his wife, pain evident in his eyes. “I know, my love. I know.”

As they drove, Frederik’s eyes caught a glimpse of something unusual by the side of the road. “What’s that?” He murmured, slowing the car.

Marianne followed his gaze. “It looks like a bundle ... stop the car!”

Frederik brought the vehicle to a halt. They both jumped out and hurried over to the mysterious object. As they approached, Marianne gasped. “Oh my God, Frederik ... it’s a baby!”

She quickly bent down to scoop the tiny, shivering form into her arms. The baby’s skin was cold, blue lips barely parting for shallow breaths as the thin pink blanket wrapped around it did little to fight the chill. “Who could do such a thing?” Marianne cried, holding the child close for warmth.

Frederik’s face hardened. “We need to get her to a hospital. Now.”

Back in the car, Marianne cradled the baby, trying to transfer her warmth. “Stay with us,” she murmured, tears spilling. “Please, stay with us.”

As they sped towards the hospital, Frederik reached over and held Marianne’s free hand. “It'’s a sign,” he whispered. “After everything we’ve been through today ... finding her like this ... it’s fate.”

Marianne looked down at the baby, her fingers gently brushing the soft wisps of hair on the child’s head. “Our little miracle in the snow,” she whispered back.

Frederik smiled faintly, squeezing Marianne's hand. “Yes, our snow angel. We’ll take care of her and she’ll take care of us.”

***

“You know, every time it snows, it feels like the world is celebrating the day we found you,” your father, now King Frederik, remarks, gazing out of the vast palace windows at the flurries descending from the sky.

You smile, reaching for a delicate pastry from the breakfast spread laid out before you. “And every snowflake reminds me of the warmth of this family that saved me from the cold.”

Your mother, Queen Marianne, hair now threaded with silver, gives you a loving glance. “Our snow angel, right when we needed you most.”

“Speaking of snow,” you muse, “I’m thinking of wearing the ice-blue gown for tonight’s gala. Thoughts?”

Your father raises an eyebrow, “For the Children’s Foundation event? Perfect choice. It complements the theme and matches the tiara your mother has picked for you to wear.”

You grin, “Who knew you had such a fashion sense?”

Your mother chuckles, “It’s a king thing. But he’s right. And with your sapphire necklace, you will be the talk of the gala.”

You take a sip of your tea, thinking of the evening ahead. “I want to ensure my speech captures the essence of our foundation’s work. It’s more than just another royal event, this is about making a real difference.”

Your father nods, “It always is for you. That genuine desire to impact lives, it’s how I know you will be a great Queen one day.”

You blush slightly, “I learned from the best.”

Your mother, with a hint of mischief, remarks, “And speaking of learning, have you decided on a dance partner for the first waltz? There’s quite a line-up available.”

You laugh, “Oh, Mom! Let’s not start matchmaking before breakfast is over.”

Your father joins in the mirth, “Give her a break, Marianne. Our snow angel must not melt.”

***

The regal hallways echo with the gentle patter of your heeled footsteps. Lately, the palace, your lifelong sanctuary, feels more like a maze. A sudden wave of dizziness makes you pause, leaning against a gilded wall for support.

“You okay there?” a soft voice calls. It’s your mother, her face etched with worry.

“Just a bit dizzy,” you mumble, attempting a reassuring smile.

She hurries over, her gown flowing. “You’ve been looking pale these past few days.”

Before you can reply, a sharp sensation pricks your nose. Touching it, you’re shocked to see blood on your fingertips. “Oh no,” you whisper, panic creeping into your voice.

Your mother’s eyes widen. “We need to see a doctor.”

“But the gala—”

“Forget the gala!” She interrupts. “Your health comes first.”

***

Inside the royal clinic, the room is a tense silence. Your father paces while your mother sits beside you, holding your hand tightly.

The family physician finally arrives, his expression somber. “Your Highness, Your Majesties,” he begins, “we’ve run several tests.”

“And?” Your father demands, halting his restless walk.

You take a deep, shaky breath, bracing yourself.

The doctor hesitates for a split second. “You have aplastic anemia.”

The room seems to close in. The words hang heavily, turning the opulent clinic cold.

Your mother’s voice trembles, “What does that mean?”

“It’s a condition where the bone marrow doesn’t produce enough new blood cells. This leads to fatigue, higher risk of infections, and uncontrolled bleeding,” the doctor explains.

Your mind races. The symptoms make sense now — the fatigue, dizziness, the nosebleed.

Your father’s face hardens, searching for hope. “What’s the treatment?”

The doctor looks grim, “The most effective treatment at this severity is a bone marrow transplant. We will need to find a matching donor.”

Your mother’s grip tightens on your hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We’ll find one. We have to.”

Your father nods. “We will move mountains if we have to.”

You muster a small smile, drawing strength from your parents. “One snowstorm at a time.”

***

“How long does it usually take to find a match?” Youu inquire, voice trembling ever so slightly.

Dr. Van der Meer, the lead hematologist on your case, sighs, “It varies, Your Highness. Some find a match within their family, others from the global database. It can take days or even months.”

Your mother breaks in desperately, “But surely, with our resources, we can expedite the process?”

Your father adds, “Every avenue, every connection we have at our disposal is yours to use, Doctor.”

Dr. Van der Meer nods, “I understand the urgency, Your Majesties. We’ve already started to search within the national database. Meanwhile, we advise immediate family to get tested first.”

You interject, a sense of realization dawning, “But I’m adopted. Our genetic makeup differs.”

Your father and mother exchange a heavy look, the weight of your situation pressing down on them.

“We still have a vast network, a whole nation even,” your father muses. “Surely someone out there is a match.”

Dr. Van der Meer hesitates then says, “Actually, there has already been a hit from the database. A potential match.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Who?”

“We maintain confidentiality, Your Highness,” he replies. “But once we confirm the match and receive their consent, you will be informed.”

Your mother’s voice is tinged with hope. “So there’s a chance? A real chance?”

You lean forward eagerly. “When will we know more?”

Dr. Van der Meer offers a comforting smile. “Soon, Your Highness. For now, patience is our ally.”

***

“It’s been weeks, Doctor. Why haven’t we heard from the potential donor?” The frustration is clear in your mother’s voice.

Dr. Van der Meer looks up, choosing his words carefully. “The potential donor ... has some reservations.”

Your father’s brow furrows. “Reservations? Isn’t saving a life more important?”

The doctor clears his throat, “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Your Majesty. The potential donor is someone you’re familiar with.”

You lean forward, your curiosity piqued. “Who is it?”

There’s a momentary pause, the silence thickening. “Max Verstappen.”

Shock ripples through the room. The name isn’t just any name. It’s a name known to every Dutch citizen, celebrated in every corner of the nation.

Your mother blinks in disbelief. “The Formula 1 racer? We’ve met him multiple times at the Grand Prix. But why would he have reservations?”

Dr. Van der Meer hesitates, “There’s more to it. We ran some further genetic tests, customary for close matches. The results were ... unexpected.”

Your father leans forward in anticipation. “Go on.”

The doctor takes a deep breath, “Max Verstappen is not just a match. He’s ... he’s your half-brother.”

The room goes still. The revelation hangs in the air, too staggering to fully comprehend.

You feel your world tilt. “That’s impossible.”

Your mother’s voice is a whisper, “How can that be?”

Dr. Van der Meer clears his throat. “The genetic markers were unmistakable. Given the rare degree of compatibility and the markers we found, there is no doubt.”

Your father runs a hand through his hair, trying to process the news. “So all these years, at every Grand Prix, we’ve been cheering for ... family?”

You chime in, a flurry of emotions whirling inside, “And he doesn’t know, does he?”

The doctor shakes his head, “No, not yet. That’s the reservation. Revealing this ... it changes everything for him too.”

Your mother is contemplative. “We’ve celebrated his victories, felt the pride of having him represent our country. And now, knowing he’s family ...”

You interject, “And now, we need him more than ever. Not as a driver, not as a national icon, but as family.”

Your father’s resolve strengthens. “We need to tell him. He deserves to know.”

***

“How do you even begin a conversation like this?” You wonder aloud, staring at the blank screen of your laptop.

Your father, deep in thought, answers, “Honestly, directly, and with sensitivity. It’s uncharted territory for all of us.”

Your mothers adds, “Perhaps start by expressing your genuine feelings, without the weight of our titles or his fame."

You nod slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Dear Max,” you repeat out loud as you begin typing, then pause. “Too formal?”

Your father shrugs, “It’s sincere. And that’s what matters.”

Taking a deep breath, you continue:

Dear Max,

This isn’t a typical letter and I struggle to find the right words. By now, you might have been informed by the medical team about our unexpected connection. I wanted to reach out personally, not as the Princess of Orange, but simply as ... family.

Your mother reads over your shoulder, “That’s a good start.”

I cannot imagine how jarring this news must be. It was for me too. All these years, our paths crossed, shared smiles exchanged, never knowing the deeper bond we shared.

“Maybe mention the Grand Prix, how it has been a tradition for us,” your father suggests.

Every year at the Dutch Grand Prix, my parents and I cheered for you, felt immense pride in your victories. The realization that those cheers were for family adds a layer of emotion I can’t quite put into words.

I understand if you need time to process this. But I want you to know that this revelation changes nothing about the respect and admiration I hold for you. However, it does add a depth of connection, a newfound kinship.

Your mother, her voice choked with emotion, suggests, “Maybe let him know why it’s important now, about your condition.”

The reason I am reaching out now is not just about our newfound connection but also because of a pressing health concern I am facing. I need a bone marrow transplant, and as it turns out, you are my best match.

“Reassure him,” your father adds. “It’s a big ask.”

I understand the weight of this request. There is no obligation, only hope. No matter your decision, I want you to know that discovering this bond, this link between us, is a gift in itself.

Please take all the time you need. Whatever you decide, I respect and cherish the connection we have discovered. Wishing you all the best on and off the track.

Sincerely,

Y/N

Your father, visibly moved, murmurs, “It’s perfect.”

Your mother nods in agreement, tears shimmering. “It’s from the heart. Now, we wait.”

***

The roaring engines on the racetrack outside fade as the door to the private lounge close behind you. Max Verstappen stands there, his usual confident demeanor replaced with apprehension. The weight of the recent revelations is thick in the air.

“You look different without the crown,” Max remarks, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckle softly, “And you without the helmet.”

The initial ice broken, the two of you sit. A beat of silence passes. Then Max, eyes searching yours, asks, “Why now?”

You take a deep breath. “I’ve always known I was adopted. Every snowy day, my parents would recount the tale of how they found their snow angel. I grew up surrounded by love and privilege, never lacking anything.” Your voice trembles slightly, “But there were nights ... nights I’d wonder about the person who left me there, in the snow. Why didn’t they want me? Why did they abandon me to the whims of a storm?”

Max’s expression softens, his own memories surfacing. “I grew up with my father’s strict guidance. Racing wasn’t just a passion, it was life. There was little room for anything else. I always thought I understood my family but this ...” He sighs, looking away. “It makes me question everything.”

You nod, shared uncertainty bringing you closer. “But through all this confusion, one thing is clear: we’re family. Blood, it seems, has a way of revealing itself.”

Max smiles ruefully, “You know, I have a sister, a full sister. Growing up, we were close but our paths divided. Racing consumed me. Now, discovering I have another sister, you, it’s ... overwhelming.”

You chuckle, “Two sisters. Lucky you.”

He grins, “Twice the protective instincts.”

The humor fades, replaced by raw emotion. “You know,” you whisper, tears brimming, “Despite everything, I’m grateful for our paths crossing like this. Even if it took a lifetime.”

Max reaches out, taking your hand. “Me too.”

The weight of the moment presses on both of you. You look at each other, eyes brimming with tears, souls bared.

In a sudden rush of emotion, you step forward, collapsing into Max’s embrace. He holds you tightly, as if trying to shield you from all the past hurts, regrets, and questions. The warmth of the hug contrasts sharply with the cold memory of that snowy night. In his embrace, the years of wondering, the pain of abandonment, seem to melt away.

Pulling back slightly, you look up into Max’s eyes. With a tearful smile, you whisper, “Brother.”

He grins back, “Sister. How would you feel about attending the next race, not as royalty but as my guest?”

You hesitate, the memories of previous races filled with formalities and protocols. “It will be different.”

Max wraps an arm around you shoulders, “Very. But I promise, you will see the world of racing like never before.”

***

The roar of the engines, the excitement of the crowd — it was all distantly familiar. Yet, standing beside Max, everything feels different.

As you walk through the paddock, Max’s pride is evident. “Guys,” he calls out to his mechanics, “Meet my sister.”

They look up, surprised, then smiles break out across their faces. “It’s an honor, Your Highness,” one of them greets.

Max nudges him, “Just call her by her name.”

You laugh in agreement, “It’s nice to meet you all without the formalities.”

Max continues his introductions, his enthusiasm infectious. When you reach Christian Horner, he looks pleasantly surprised. “It’s been a while,” he remarks, “Though our meetings were always, well, more formal.”

You nod, “It’s a different world from this side of the track.”

Max beams, “And she’s getting the full experience today.”

When the race starts, every moment feels magnified, more personal.

And then, the checkered flag waves for Max.

The Red Bull garage erupts in jubilation. During the celebration, Max, still in his car, locks eyes with you from across parc fermé. You can see the moisture, the emotion in his eyes. The moment he is out of his car, he races over, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“This win,” he whispers hoarsely, “it’s not just for me this time. It’s for us. For family.”

As the Dutch anthem plays during the podium ceremony, tears fill your eyes. The anthem, a proud symbol of your country and kingdom, now also symbolizes the new, ever-growing bond with your brother.

Max, standing tall on the podium, catches your eye and winks. And as the ceremony concludes, he suddenly turns, aiming his bottle of champagne right at you. The spray catches you off guard, laughter bubbling up as the cold liquid soaks you.

“You had to, didn’t you?” You laugh, wiping away the liquid before it can sting your eyes.

Max ruffles your hair, “It’s my new duty as your older brother!”

***

“Hey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Max says, pulling you towards the thrumming heart of the afterparty.

The vibrant lights and chatter fill the room but everything seems to slow as you’re introduced to a lean figure with tousled hair and hypnotizing eyes. “This is Charles Leclerc,” Max grins, “One of the toughest guys I’ve raced against.”

Charles offers a charming smile, “Pleasure to meet you. Max speaks highly of you.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast to your brother. “Glad to hear that my bribe has been paying off.”

Charles laughs, “Well, considering today’s win, you might just be his favorite person.”

The two of you share a laugh, an effortless ease settling between you as you barely notice Max walking off with a wink shot your way.

“You’ve been to several races, haven’t you?” Charles asks, sipping his drink.

“In a more official capacity, yes. But today was ... different.”

He nods, his gaze intense, “Being family changes the perspective.”

Charles leans in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now that you’ve seen me on the track maybe I should show you some of my other talents?”

You raise an eyebrow, the thrill of the night’s excitement mixing with his words. “Oh? What other hidden skills do you possess?”

His voice drops to a sultry murmur. “Well, I make a mean pasta carbonara. Maybe I’ll whip it up for you someday.”

You laugh, the warmth of the moment spreading through you. “I’ll definitely hold you to that.”

Max, watching from a distance, nudges Carlos, “Look at them. Told you they’d hit it off.”

“You know, I’ve always been curious about the life of a princess,” Charles muses, a playful glint in his eye. “Is it all tiaras and tea parties?”

You smirk. “It’s more boring than you would think. But for a driver like you, every day’s a thrill, right? Speeding cars, roaring crowds, adoring fans?”

He grins, leaning closer, the proximity making your heart race. “Most days. But some nights, the thrill is ... elsewhere,” his gaze deepening, locked onto yours.

The two of you are drawn into a world of your own, the party’s noise fading into the background.

He brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer. “Have you ever considered doing a hot lap? It’s quite the rush.”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of his touch. “I don’t know about getting in a race car but I can think of something else I’d love to ride right now.”

As the club’s pulsating music envelops you, Charles leans in, his voice husky over the beat, “Care for a dance?”

You accept, and as you both move to the rhythm, the world around seems to disappear. The close proximity, the electric energy on the dance floor, and the feeling of his body moving against yours is intoxicating.

“Right now,” Charles murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear to be heard above the music, “I feel like the winner tonight.”

You smile, your gaze locked onto his, “The night is still young. Let’s see where it takes us.”

***

“I’ve noticed you’re attending more races lately,” Max comments, a teasing glint in his eyes as you both walk through the paddock.

You shrug, feigning innocence. “Well, I’ve developed quite an appreciation for the sport.”

Max chuckles, “Or for a certain Ferrari driver?”

Blushing, you retort, “Can’t it be both?”

Before Max can respond, Charles approaches, his smile brightening as he spots you. “Good to see you again,” he greets, though his eyes convey a warmth that words can’t.

“You too,” you reply in a voice softer than intended.

The three of you share some casual banter before Max excuses himself, leaving you alone with Charles.

“You know,” Charles starts, “it’s become the highlight of my race weekends, seeing you here.”

You smile, “I’ve come to realize that there’s more to F1 than just the thrill of the race. There are ... other attractions.”

Charles grins, “Is that so? Any attraction in particular?”

You playfully nudge him, “Don’t get too confident, Leclerc.”

Weekends spent at circuits become a regular fixture in your life. While you’re initially there for Max, the increasing time spent with Charles deepens your bond. The stolen glances during press conferences, the private moments away from the limelight, and the late-night conversations make the connection undeniable.

One evening, after a particularly intense race, Charles pulls you aside, his face flushed from the adrenaline. “Every time I cross the finish line and look towards the other garages, I hope to catch a glimpse of you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “And if you do?”

He smiles, “It either makes victory all the more sweet or the sting of defeat not quite as painful.”

***

“You’ve made the front page again,” Max remarks dryly, handing you a tabloid during breakfast.

You glance at the headline, The Princess and the Racer: F1’s Fairytale Romance accompanied by a candid shot of you and Charles out to dinner.

Charles groans, “They make it sound like a soap opera.”

You sigh, “It’s the price we pay, I guess.”

As weeks go by, the media scrutiny intensifies. Every public appearance and every minuscule gesture, is analyzed, often blown out of proportion. The weight of the world’s eyes strains the joy of your newfound relationship.

One evening, after a particularly invasive article speculating about a rushed engagement, Charles pulls you aside, his face drawn with concern. “I noticed you’ve been pale lately, more tired. Is it the stress from all this media attention?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. The truth is, it’s more than just the media. Your health has been deteriorating and you’ve been trying to hide it.

“It’s not just the media,” you admit.

His eyes are filled with worry. “What is it?”

Max, overhearing the conversation, interjects, “It’s her health. She didn't want to worry you.”

Charles looks at you in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You take a deep breath, “I didn’t want to add to the pressures of the season, to be another burden.”

He reaches out, holding you close, “You’re never a burden. We’re in this together.”

You take a shaky breath, drawing strength from his words. “I’ve been diagnosed with aplastic anemia. It’s a condition where my bone marrow doesn’t produce enough new blood cells.”

Charles pales, “That’s ... serious.”

You nod, “After this race, I’m starting chemotherapy to destroy the dysfunctional bone marrow in preparation for a transplant.”

Silence envelops the room. Charles processes the weight of the revelation, the enormity of the situation sinking in. “Why now?” He finally asks.

“Timing is crucial,” Max chimes in, “She’s been putting it off, not wanting to disrupt the season. But we can’t wait much longer.”

Charles runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just wish you had told me sooner.”

You reach out, touching his arm, “I didn’t know how. Everything was happening so fast — our relationship, the media attention. I didn’t want to add more stress.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his voice choked with emotion. “Promise me, no more secrets.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face, “I promise.”

***

“Are you sure you want to be here for this?” You ask Charles as you both sit in the sterile hospital room, awaiting the doctor who would be overseeing your chemotherapy treatments.

Charles takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Every step of the way.”

The door opens and the doctor walks in, a gentle but serious look on her face. “Before we begin, there’s something important we need to discuss. The chemotherapy might affect your fertility. It’s not certain but there is a significant risk.”

You freeze. You had expected side effects, the potential hair loss, the fatigue. But this? This was unanticipated. This ripped your heart out of your chest.

Charles tightens his grip on your hand, his face pale. “Is there ... any way to mitigate that risk?”

The doctor nods, “We can retrieve and store your eggs. It’s a procedure done before chemotherapy in some cases. You will need hormone injections for about 10 to 12 days to stimulate the ovaries.”

You look at Charles, your eyes filled with tears, “It’s another delay.”

Charles brushes a tear from your cheek, “We face this together. I am here for you no matter what you decide.”

The days that follow are a whirlwind. Charles is by your side every step of the way, providing both emotional support and administering the daily injections.

Each evening, he carefully prepares the hormone shot. “Ready?” He asks, looking into your eyes.

You nod, trying to put on a brave face. But the physical discomfort is nothing compared to the emotional toll. Still, with Charles by your side, each day becomes bearable.

One evening, as he administers the injection, he whispers, “I’m so proud of you. Your strength amazes me every day.”

Tears spring to your eyes. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you. “You’ll never have to.”

***

“Are you sure about this?” Charles asks, his fingers brushing yours as you lay on the hospital bed.

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “I am. It’s a step towards preserving a potential future, one I hope to share with you.”

His eyes soften. “Every step, I’m here.”

The medical staff move around in the background, preparing for the procedure. The hum of machines and the sterile environment contrast starkly with the intimate bubble you and Charles share.

As the procedure begins, Charles holds your hand, his thumb drawing comforting circles on your skin. “Remember our trip to Monaco?” He murmurs, attempting to distract you. “The sea, the laughter, the little café by the pier?”

A smile tugs at your lips, even as you nod for the OBGYN to proceed. “The one with the overly sweet pastries?”

Charles chuckles, “That’s the one. Imagine us there, a decade from now, two kids in tow, arguing over whether chocolate or vanilla is better.”

The image he paints eases your tension, providing a temporary escape from the clinical room. The retrieval is swift but the emotional weight lingers.

“You did great,” Charles murmurs, brushing a stray hair away from your face.

You smile weakly, “One hurdle crossed.”

The next phase comes swiftly the following day: chemotherapy. The treatment center is full of artificial warmth — the walls painted a deep yellow and the heater working overtime to keep patients as comfortable as possible — but it does nothing to counteract the chill of fear that has taken over your body.

When the nurse enters with the IV bag for your chemotherapy, Charles stands up, his stance protective. “How does this work?”

She explains the process, her voice soft, “The medication will enter her bloodstream and target the rapidly growing cells. There might be some side effects but we will monitor her closely.”

You feel a pinch as the needle is inserted and soon the clear liquid starts making its way into your veins. You blink rapidly, willing the tears away before Charles can see them.

Attempting to lighten the mood, he starts recounting some of his funniest moments from racing. You chuckle at his anecdotes, grateful for the distraction.

Hours pass. The room is filled with a mix of medical beeps and Charles’ voice, offering a counterbalance of cold reality and warm comfort.

As the IV bag nears empty, you feel a wave of fatigue. Charles notices. “Rest,” he urges softly, his thumb caressing your hand.

You nod, closing your eyes, “Thank you for being my anchor.”

He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Always, for every challenge, every step. Always.”

***

“I still can’t believe you made him go,” your mother murmurs from the chair next to you. The hum of machines and the sterile scent of the hospital room are in stark contrast to the roaring engines and burning rubber of the track that you can almost sense through the television screen.

You manage a weak smile. “He belongs on the track, Mom. This race is crucial for the championship.”

“He wanted to stay,” your father adds. “He’s racing with a heavy heart.”

“I know,” you whisper, a tear trickling down. “But he’s strong. And I want him to win, for both of us.”

The room falls silent, save for the rhythmic beeping of the machines. You can feel the potent cocktail of drugs coursing through your veins, sapping your strength but a necessary step to fight the disease within.

The TV in the corner broadcasts the race. You hear the commentator’s voice, “... Charles Leclerc, giving it his all today. You have to wonder where he’s drawing this intensity from.”

You know the answer.

The laps go by. With each turn, each overtake Charles makes, you can sense his determination, his desire to win not just for the title but for something else … someone else.

“You should rest,” your father advises, noticing your drooping eyelids.

But you resist, wanting to witness Charles cross the finish line.

The final laps are intense. Charles battles fiercely, and as he takes the checkered flag, the room bursts into subdued cheers.

“He did it!” Your mother exclaims.

You feel a swell of pride. “For us,” you whisper, before fatigue takes over and you drift into a deep sleep.

As consciousness slowly returns not too long after, the first thing you notice is the gentle vibration of your phone on the bedside table. Groggily reaching for it, you see a new message notification from a group chat with Charles and Max.

It’s a photo of Charles and Max, still in their race suits, grinning ear to ear. Charles holds up his first-place trophy while Max proudly displays his second. They’re both covered in champagne, evidence of the post-race celebrations.

These are for you. For our champion.

With shaky fingers, you type back:

My heroes. Thank you for being my strength. So proud of you both. Can’t wait to see you again.

Your mother, noticing your reaction, peers over your shoulder. “Those boys,” she says with a fond smile, “they really adore you.”

You nod, wiping away a tear. “I’m so lucky.”

***

“Hey, sis,” Max’s voice is soft, tinged with a mix of worry and hope as he sits beside you in the pre-op room, “Ready to share a bit more than just DNA?”

You manage a small smile, despite the anxiety. “As long as you don’t start claiming we share driving skills.”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand. “Promise.”

The doctor enters, clipboard in hand. “Both of you understand the procedure, correct? Max, we will be extracting bone marrow from your pelvic bone. It’s a relatively straightforward process but you might feel some discomfort.”

Max nods resolutely. “Anything for her.”

You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “Thank you, Max. This ... it means everything.”

He looks at you, eyes filled with a brotherly love that’s grown exponentially over the past few months. “We’re family. We look out for each other.”

As Max is wheeled away for his extraction, he offers a brave smile. “See you on the other side.”

Hours later, as you sit by his bedside, watching him slowly come around post-procedure, you squeeze his hand. “You okay?”

He groans, “Feels like I’ve done a doubleheader race without any breaks. But it’s worth it.”

Then comes your turn. Max, despite his exhaustion, insists on being present. The stem cells he donated are infused into you through a central line. It’s a simple procedure but one filled with so much hope and emotion.

Max watches closely, gripping your hand. “You got this,” he murmurs as the life-saving cells flow into your body.

You try to show a convincing smile before closing your eyes and praying to whoever’s listening that this works.

***

The pale blue walls of the hospital room have become all too familiar, the rhythmic beep of machines a constant in the background. You’re reclined on the bed, an IV line dripping nutrients and much-needed blood transfusions into your system. As your body adjusts to the new bone marrow, these are crucial.

Max is seated beside you, a crossword puzzle in hand. The chairs aren’t particularly comfortable but he’s still rarely left your side.

Max taps his pen against the paper thoughtfully. “Alright, here’s one for you. Seven letters: someone who is always there, no matter what.”

You raise an eyebrow, pondering. “Is it brother?”

He grins, “You’re getting good at this.”

You chuckle, “Well, I can’t help it when the answer is so obvious …”

He leans in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I snuck in some of those chocolates you like from that little shop in town.”

Your eyes widen in mock horror. “You rebel. We’ll be banished from the kingdom.”

He winks, producing a small box from his bag. “Worth it.”

As you both indulge in the illicit treat, you realize just how much these little moments, these shared smiles and inside jokes, make the ordeal bearable.

Max notices your contemplative expression. “Hey, what’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a brother who sneaks chocolates into a hospital for me.”

He extends his pinky towards you, “Always. Until the end of the race.”

You intertwine your own pinky with his to immortalize the promise, “And beyond.”

Just as the two of you are finishing the last of the chocolates, the door swings open quietly. Charles steps in, his eyes immediately seeking you out. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand, their vibrant colors standing out against the sterile environment.

“You two conspiring without me?” Charles teases, setting the flowers on the bedside table.

Max smirks, “Just ensuring she gets her daily dose of chocolate, doctor’s orders.”

Charles moves to your side and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling today?”

“Better now that my two favorite racers are here,” you reply with a smile.

Charles laughs, “I see. Well, the doctor outside told me your blood counts are improving. Seems the new bone marrow is getting to work.”

You nod hopefully. “One day at a time.”

Charles moves closer, taking your free hand. “Every day is a step closer to getting you out of here.”

Max, sensing the intimate moment, stands up, stretching. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Need to grab a coffee and give that crossword another go.”

Charles smiles gratefully at him, and as Max exits the room, you’re left in a bubble of comfort and warmth with your boyfriend.

***

“Grant our daughter strength and good news,” your mother’s prayer weaves through the tense atmosphere of the room.

Charles’ grip on your hand tightens and he whispers, “Whatever the news, we face it together.”

“Guide the hands of the doctors, let their knowledge lead to healing.”

Max, on your other side, offers a comforting squeeze, his face betraying his own anxiety. “You’ve come so far already.”

“And bless our family with your grace and protection.”

The prayer lingers in the air just as the door opens.

“Grant her the strength, the health, the life she deserves ...”

The doctor steps in, a manila envelope in hand. Everyone’s gaze immediately fixes on him, the room heavy with bated breath.

He looks around the room, making eye contact with each one of you, then finally says, “The results are in.”

You feel Charles’ hand tremble slightly … Max’s grip tighten … your father barely breathing behind you … a silent prayer still on your mother’s lips.

“The bone marrow has taken exceptionally well. All indicators and markers are positive.” The doctor smiles. “You’re officially in remission. You’re cured.”

A tidal wave of emotion crashes over the room. Tears immediately spring to your eyes, happiness and relief mingling in each drop.

Your mother’s whispered prayer crescendos into a heartfelt “thank you,” choked with emotion.

Your father, the ever-composed king, has moisture in his eyes as he holds you close, “Our snow angel, our miracle.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace next, his voice a shaky whisper, “You did it.”

Max is grinning from ear to ear. “Told you, sis. Until the end of the race and beyond.”

***

“Look at them,” Max says, nudging you as the camera pans over the pit crews, each member prominently sporting a bright red ribbon. “All in solidarity.”

Charles beams, joining the conversation. “It was Max’s idea. The ribbons. Both teams were eager to join in.”

You’re touched, tears threatening to spill. “It’s incredible. Both of you, your teams ... I’m speechless.”

The commentator on the screen picks up on the theme. “For those just tuning in, both the Ferrari and Red Bull teams are wearing red ribbons today in support of aplastic anemia awareness, a personal cause for them given the recent battle of the Princess of Orange with the condition.”

Mid-race, Max’s voice crackles over the team radio, “This one’s for you, sis.”

Charles, not to be outdone, pushes his car to the limit, the red ribbon painted on his helmet clearly visible every time the camera focuses on him.

Later, as you walk back out through the paddock, fans approach, many sporting red ribbons of their own. One young girl looks at you with stars in her eyes, “I wear this for my mom. She’s fighting too, just like you did.”

You pull her into a gentle hug. “She’s got this. I know she does.”

***

As soon as the statement goes live on the official website of the Netherlands Royal Family, the internet erupts.

The Royal House of the Netherlands is pleased to announce that Her Royal Highness, Y/N the Princess of Orange, and Mr. Charles Leclerc are officially courting.

Your phone buzzes incessantly with notifications. Charles, seated beside you, chuckles, “Well, there’s no going back now.”

Your father enters the room, a smile playing on his lips. “The people seem to be taking the news ... enthusiastically.”

Your mother, scrolling through her own device, adds, “And overwhelmingly positively. Listen to this: We’ve seen them together. Their chemistry is undeniable. Wishing them all the best!”

You exhale, a weight lifting off your shoulders. “I was so nervous about the reaction.”

Charles brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, “We’re in this together, remember?”

Max bursts into the room with his usual energy, “You two are trending. The fans are loving it!”

Screens across the nation flash images of you and Charles — at the racetrack, during hospital visits, candid moments captured by keen-eyed photographers. Talk shows and news channels dive deep into analyzing your relationship, piecing together any crumbs of insight they might have.

A popular racing pundit remarks on a live broadcast, “Their bond is evident, both on and off the track. Charles’ performance has been exceptional since they've been together. It’s clear that they draw strength from each other.”

The public’s fascination is insatiable. Magazines are splashed with titles like Love in the Fast Lane. But despite the media frenzy, what touches you most are the personal messages. Fans share artwork, write songs, and pen heartfelt letters, celebrating love and the winding path that brought you both to this moment.

One evening, as you and Charles sit on the palace balcony overlooking the city, he turns to you, “They’re acting like we’re some sort of fairytale.”

You lean into him, “Maybe we are. It’s our story and I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

***

“You know,” your father begins, a playful glint in his eye as he slices into his steak, “I had an amusing conversation with Prince Albert the other day.”

Charles, taking a sip of his wine, raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Your father chuckles, “He said Monaco might need to extend an invitation for our next state visit given that we seem to have shared interests now.”

The table erupts in laughter. Your mother adds, teasingly, “And here I thought we were simply bonding over diplomatic ties.”

“So,” Max leans forward eagerly. “Any embarrassing stories about Y/N? I have to make up for all of the childhood adventures I’ve missed.”

“Oh, there are plenty! Remember the time she tried to drive a lawnmower and ended up in the rose bushes?” Your father says, trying to look serious.

Marianne chuckles, “Don’t remind me! Those were my favorite roses.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “I was eight! And I thought it was a car!”

Charles grins, squeezing your hand under the table. “I can only imagine a mini version of you so determined behind the wheel.”

“And at her sixth birthday party,” your father recounts with a smirk, “she declared that she’d be ruling the kingdom by sundown and tried to hold a mock council meeting with her stuffed toys.”

Charles nudges you playfully, “Planning coups at six? Should I be worried?”

You swat him lightly, “It was a phase.”

As dessert is served, your mother turns contemplative. “You know, I’ve always believed in destiny. And seeing all of you here, witnessing the bonds and the love, it reaffirms that belief.”

Charles nods his agreement, “Life has a way of bringing the right people together.”

Your father raises his glass, “To family, in all its forms. To the journeys we embark on and the memories we create.”

The clinking of glasses has never sounded sweeter.

***

Charles, his face flushed with the victory of the 2025 World Championship, stands on the podium, trophy in hand. The cheering of the crowd is deafening but as he signals for a microphone, a hush descends.

“I’ve never done this before,” he starts emotionally, “naming my car, I mean. I watched Seb do it year after year and I always wondered what that felt like, to have such a connection.” He takes a deep breath, his gaze scanning the audience until it lands on you. “This season, I finally understood. My car, the one that just secured this championship, I named it after the most important person in my life.”

The crowd waits with bated breath.

“I named it,” he continues, his voice breaking slightly as he keeps his eyes locked on yours, “after you. After the woman who has been my anchor, my strength.”

You feel tears prickling your eyes as the sheer intensity of his words hits you.

Charles signals and you’re gently nudged forward, guided up to the podium. The world seems to blur, the noise, the people, everything fading until it’s just you and him.

“Every race, every lap, I had two goals: to win for the team and to make you proud,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. “You are my world. And today, in front of everyone here, in front of the world, I want to ask you one thing.”

He gets down on one knee and your hands move of their own volition to cover your mouth. Producing a gorgeous ring, Charles looks up at you, his eyes shimmering. “Will you marry me?”

The world stops.

The deafening cheers of the crowd seem quiet compared to the beating of your heart.

Tears stream down your face as you nod. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”

No sooner have the words left your mouth than Max and Lando, the other two podium finishers, gleefully seize the moment. With mischievous grins, they uncork their champagne bottles, dousing both you and Charles in a bubbly shower. The liquid gold sparkles in the sunlight, adding to the magic of the moment.

Charles pulls you close, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as you both get soaked.

***

The grand cathedral, bathed in the soft glow of a thousand candles, echoes with the hushed whispers of eagerly waiting guests. Roses, lilies, and orchids cascade down the pillars, their fragrance mingling with the scent of incense.

Behind the doors of the bridal suite, Max stands beside you, dressed impeccably in a classic tux. There’s a brotherly tenderness in his eyes as he reaches out, smoothing the delicate lace of your dress to ensure that every detail is perfect.

“You look breathtaking,” he murmurs, the emotion of the day making his voice waver.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, Man of Honor,” you reply, squeezing his hand.

As the first strains of the bridal march begin, the doors open, revealing the grand aisle, lined with well-wishers from all corners of the globe. Your father steps up and offers you his arm, his eyes glassy with pride and a hint of melancholy. “Ready, my snow angel?”

You nod, tears of happiness already blurring your vision. The world narrows down to the altar, where Charles stands, back straight in his crisp full dress uniform. As you make your way down the aisle, your eyes lock with his and the universe contracts to that singular point of connection.

Charles’ normally composed features give way as he takes in the sight of you. His eyes, also glistening with tears, convey a depth of feeling that words could never capture. Love, gratitude, wonder — all interwoven in that magnetic gaze.

His voice breaks as he whispers just for you, “You are my dream, my reality, my forever.”

Your own voice is thick with emotion, “And you are my heart, my soul, my love.”

As vows are exchanged and promises made, the world bears witness to a love that defied odds, overcame challenges, and brought together not just two souls but two worlds.

And as you both seal your commitment with a kiss, there is not a single dry eye in the cathedral. Because love, true love, is a force to be reckoned with, and today, it reigns supreme.

***

The soft whimpers of a newborn fill the air of the private birthing suite. Nestled in your arms, wrapped in a royal blue blanket, the baby prince stirs, his tiny fingers curling around one of yours.

Charles, sitting beside you, gazes down at your son with sheer wonder. “He’s perfect,” he says in a teary whisper.

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Our little miracle.” The journey, the IVF treatments with your frozen eggs , the hope, the fear — everything culminated in this singular, beautiful moment.

The door opens gently, revealing Max, his eyes wide as they take in the sight before him, and your parents, their faces a canvas of joy and pride.

Max approaches tentatively, his usual confidence replaced by an awe-inspired reverence. “May I?” He asks softly.

You nod, handing over the precious bundle. As Max holds the baby, a bond forms instantly. “Hey there, little one,” he coos, “Your godfather is here.”

Your mother, tears in her eyes, leans in, planting a gentle kiss on your son’s forehead. “Welcome to the world, our precious grandchild.”

Your father, hoarse with emotion, simply murmurs, “An angel for our snow angel.”

And you know what? You decide that the fans were right. Your life really is a fairytale.

[asuyaka]

Guess who's back for that monthly movie list requesting? That's right, your favorite Satosugu sucker!💃💃

All jokes aside tho, I am in some *desperate* need of quality Yuji content that doesn't involve my boy getting yeet'en around like a ragdoll in Shibuya😔

So here is my prompt for today!

Yuji has a rich boyfie(reader) who is like- deadass the hottest thing to exist ever since Apollo, and they just love to spoil Yuji rotten in shape and form possible, being basically that dreamy kind of lover that gives their partners royalty treatment lol

Like, Reader is very gentle and soft with Yuji and isn't afraid of expressing their love and devotion to him, buying him expensive gifts, taking him to all sorts of dates and indulging in whatever couple activities Yuji proposes, cuddling with him on the couch, giving him those affectionate kisses(cheeks, forehead, the tip of the nose, back of the hand, whatever's in the menu) and just overall the definition of perfect lover you'd see in the books: fashionable, romantic, chivalrous, flirty, teasing and fun to have around. Also for the sake of simplicity, let's just say that Reader is a sorcerer as well.

I am a shameless simp if it wasn't obvious already, also if it isn't much of a bother- could you maybe write a bonus scene where Yuji shows up to Jujutsu Tech with some jewelry(could be a necklace, a pair of wristbands or one of those simple golden earrings) that Reader bought him the day before and Nobara, being Nobara, immediately notices the clearly expensive accessory and confronts Yuji about it, only for the boy to bluntly say something like "oh, my boyfriend gave it to me", cue to Nobara and Megumi swarming Yuji with questions cus they had no idea Yuji could bag someone, let alone someone who had enough money to buy something that you'd only see someone like Gojo wearing so casually.

Sincerely, '🌈' Anon.

★ - wowie you guys really like the rich reader troupe huh,,,

☆ - Yuuji Itadori x Rich! Male Reader!

You spritzed a bottle of Eros Versace on your wrists, rubbing the scent on your neck and behind your ear. Slipping on a pair of sneakers and making your way to the park where you and your boyfriend, Itadori Yuuji, decided to meet up.

You were taking him out on a date to celebrate your one-year anniversary, a date Yuuji excitedly texted you about at twelve in the morning.

"[Name]!" Itadori exclaimed, crushing you in a tight hug as soon as he spotted you walking into the park. You smiled as your boyfriend lifted you off the ground and spun you around, putting you back on the floor with a smile that rivaled the sun. "Happy anniversary—wow, you smell good! Is that a new cologne?"

You kissed his hand. "Happy anniversary, prince. It is a new cologne, I ordered it yesterday just for the occasion."

Yuuji blushed at the pet name, averting his eyes when you intertwined his hand in yours. "So, um, where are we going? Telling me to dress 'casual' doesn't explain anything."

Itadori was wearing a black jacket over a white zip-up hoodie with a black cross in the middle, paired with black jeans and a pair of red Converse.

"I'm not spoiling the rest of the date, but I will tell you that we're going to a mall."

Yuuji perked up. "A mall? Sweet!" He squeezed your hand as the two of you walked to a nearby mall, humming occasionally as your boyfriend ranted about everything that happened the past week.

The trip to the mall was an excuse to spoil Yuuji. Anything he wanted, he got. If he looked at an item for too long, you bought it. If he expressed any kind of positive emotion towards something, it was his. Hell, if he asked, you'd try buying the entire mall just for him because it was what your prince deserved.

Hoodies, zip-ups, shirts, pants, rings, necklaces, matching plushies, cologne—something similar to yours but not exactly so he smelt like you— and hats. Whatever your boy wanted he got.

After spending at least ten thousand yen at the mall, you went to a small burger chain Yuuji loved for a lunch break. Seeing him happy as he ate... three burgers brought a smile to your face, especially when he was concerned at your minimal order of french fries and ice cream.

Discreetly, you bought a bouquet of lithiasis flowers, tulips, and white roses; surprising him when he walked out of the burger place.

"Oh my God," Yuuji flushed, taking the flowers and pressing a kiss on your lips. "You're so sweet, babe, I love you so much."

"Lithiasis flowers mean an everlasting bond, tulips mean deep love, and roses just mean love." You kissed Yuuji's cheek, a smile on your face as the tips of his ears tinted red. "I love you too, Dear. Happy anniversary, and much more to come."

Yuuji sniffled. "[Name], I'm going to start crying if you keep this up— I promise you."

You giggled and kissed his cheek again. "As long as they're tears of happiness, prince, I think we'll be okay."

That made Yuuji audibly keen, wrapping his hands around your waist and putting his head in the crook of your neck. "You're so perfect... what did I do to deserve you?"

You patted your boyfriend's hair as you kissed the crown of his head. "You did nothing but exist, prince. I'll always love you, no matter what happens. You'll always be the love of my life."

You meant it too. You couldn't love anyone else like you loved Yuuji, and Yuuji couldn't love anyone else like he loved you. You were two peas in a pod, always together, no matter the circumstances.

"Where the fuck did you get that?" Nobara pointed at the Kirby sweater her friend was wearing. The Kirby sweater that she knew was over nine-thousand yen the last time she checked (which was two days ago).

"Huh?" Yuuji looked down at his hoodie before smiling. "Oh, my boyfriend got it for me!"

Megumi looked at the pink-haired boy from over the couch. "Boyfriend?" He and Nobara said in unison.

"...yeah? My boyfriend got it for me for our anniversary! It's super comfy, probably my favorite hoodie other than my yellow one!"

"Yuuji," Nobara started, "It's not April first, and you're a shit liar. C'mon, tell me where you got the hoodie from because I know you don't have nine thousand yen as pocket money."

"Dude I'm being so serious! You believe me, right Fushiguro?"

Megumi shrugged. "Not really."

Itadori gasped. "I told you guys like three days ago I was going on a date!"

"Yeah, with yourself." Nobara rolled her eyes. "Now stop lying and tell me where you got it from! Did Gojo-sensei buy it for you? I knew he had favorites but I always thought it was Megumi 'cause, you know, he's his dad and everything."

"Gojo-sensei isn't my dad." Megumi interrupted.

"Yeah, and I'm Jennifer fucking Lawrence."

"Don't disrespect Jennifer like that!"

Nobara groaned. "Yuuji, I swear on everything I love if you don't tell me where you got that and all the other expensive shit in your closet I'm hammering your hand to a wall."

"I told you already, my boyfriend got it for me!" Yuuji exclaimed, pulling out his phone to show them a picture he had taken on his anniversary.

Megumi stared with a blank expression. "It's photoshop."

"It's not fucking— do you want me to call him right now?"

"Sure, call this so-called 'boyfriend' of yours. We all know your charisma is horrible, Yuuji."

Itadori pouted as he clicked on your contact. "My charisma isn't horrible," he muttered, putting the phone on speaker as the call rang.

You picked up on the first ring. "Prince? I just woke up, apologies if my voice sounds weird, but did you need me for something?"

"Yeah, remember when we had our anniversary three days ago?"

"...yes?"

"Just checking, you bought me that Kirby hoodie from Hot Topic right? With all the other stuff I put in my closet?"

"I did, is the hoodie not to your liking anymore? I can go buy a new one if you want."

Yuuji stared at his friends surprised expressions, a smug grin forming on his face. "No, I just wanted to make sure. Sorry for bothering you, go back to sleep!"

His boyfriend laughed on the other end. "Alright, love. I'll call you when I wake up, good night."

Yuuji kissed into the mic. "Sweet dreams, I love you!"

"I love you too, Dear." He ended the call and placed his phone back on the table. "I fucking told you so."

"Where the hell did you find a guy that has Gojo-sensei money?!" Kugisaki yelled, pointing an accusing finger in Yuuji's face.

"Where did you find a guy who can sit through you talk about the Human Eathworm?"

Yuuji crossed his arms. "You guys are acting like I'm ugly or something!"

A silence stretched and his friends looked the other way. "Well... you aren't exactly good looking that's for sure."

"Shut the fuck up, Kugisaki!"

"You wanna go? Don't think just because you have a ten-thousand yen worth hoodie on I won't beat the shit out of you!"

"I thought it was nine-thousand?" Megumi asked.

"Shut up Fushiguro!"

[luveline]

Hi Jade, I’m thinking about soulmate prince Steve again. Can I request something (any length) with reader starting to feel like she fits in and finding something she enjoys doing around the palace (lending a hand in the library? Working in the garden? Helping in the kitchen?) and someone makes a comment about it and she stands up for herself?

Basically I think it’d be nice to see how her relationship with Steve getting stronger helps her feel more confident in her position

prince steve au ♡ fem

You find that with proper instruction, time, and resources, you love to cook. It's an odd thing to discover in your twenties, perhaps; any of your peers who liked to cook were already learning by the time you left school, dipping into restaurants in the wealthier north city, or training for prestigious positions in the Palace kitchens.

Steve sneaks in to see you every now and then. You're pushing the brunt of your palm into a soft dough when you feel his touch, a quick stroke of the knuckle against your lower back before his hand comes up, cupping your shoulder. 

"What's this?" he asks. "It looks good, smells good. You're smiling." 

"Yes, I'm smiling, I'm happy. And you've come to see me." 

"That's why you're smiling?" he asks. 

A strand of hair has fallen into his eyes, and a second chunk follows as he leans in. Not to kiss you, though you'd probably welcome it, but to make sure you can see his smile too. 

"Where's your crown?" you ask. 

"I'm striking. How ridiculous it is they expect me to wear it in my own home, I don't care if there are deputies visiting." 

"Can I take off my finery?" You've been dressed in very nice clothes considering they're now covered in flour, but the weight of the jewellery is the real annoyance. "It's too much, Steve." 

Steve's gaze dips down to the mass of jewels held against your collarbone. "Too much," he agrees, reaching around you. His fingers brush the back of your neck, eliciting a tiny metal clink as he unclasps your necklace and pulls it free. "Much better. You don't need any of this to look fine." He pockets it.

You stroke the loose hairs from his face. 

"Oh, sorry." You wipe at the smudge of flour you've left behind. "Sorry. I'm making it worse. Good thing you're so pale." 

"Alright." He looks like he might giggle. "So mean to me. I'll go do some fencing in the sunshine and maybe you'll grow to love me." He does giggle, then, at his own joke no less. 

He expresses that your loaf of bread should please god end up on his plate first, and then he kisses your cheek and tells you he'll see you at dinner. It's a very nice farewell that gives an extra aura of happiness to your bread-making. 

"You won't actually give the Prince your bread, will?" one of the cooks asks. 

It's innocuous, but it pisses you off. Steve is a Prince, yes, but he's your boyfriend, your soulmate (scream), he's your equal in partnership even if he's a royal, and isn't his treatment enough proof? Why would he come down to the kitchens to dote on you? Why would he ask to try your bread first? 

"I don't appreciate the idea that it isn't worth his time. I'm making something and he likes me enough to want to try it. Why wouldn't I give it to him?" you ask, not angry, exactly, no icy cold zing. Just irritated and honest about it. "It might not be perfect, but if he wanted perfect he could ask for it." 

"Who says you aren't perfect?" Steve asks.

You flush with heat. He grins at you and the cook who'd spoken, as well as the other assistants and apprentices who stop to stare. "Forgot to give you this." He presses a small pouch into your hand. "Dinner," he promises. 

"See you," you promise back. 

You let him leave before you turn from the counter to open his gifted pouch against your abdomen. Inside is a generous handful of sugar pear drops, the kind you ate together on your first stolen date a few weeks ago, and a note. 

To tide you over. 

P.s if I didn't make myself say it, you look super pretty today and I can't wait to see you tonight 

–Steve 

You put one of the sugar pear drops under your tongue and hide the note safe inside your jacket pocket, schooling your features into impassiveness as your soulmark glows a gauzy cerulean. 

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Playtime´s over (Viserys I Targaryen x servant!reader)

synopsis: King Viserys calls you into his chambers for a favor.

warnings: DUB CON (power imbalance), age gap, very little plot, smut, oral (m recieving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

word count: 1.4k

A/N: This is technically my first smut in a while so please be nice. Also this can be read as a stand alone or as a prologue to my mini-series I could protect you

You are sitting on a blanket with Aemond, a book on one thigh and the six year old Prince on the other. Enjoying the warmth of the late summer sun high in the sky from within the gardens, as you read the Prince a story of old Valyria. It was his favorite place in the entire keep, he had frequently told you, to which you let out a chuckle. Alicent had just recently scolded you for reading those cruel stories to a six year old, but Aemond would not stop pouting and huffing until he saw you pull out the book he wanted. In all fairness you think she is just overprotective of him. It is magnificent how such a ´well-behaved´ child could be so insistent and headstrong at the same time. You shake the thought with a smile. Even in his young age it is clear that Aemond has not many friends as it seems and you are happy to lend him some company whenever he asks. He is such a smart and kind child. You often feel sorry that he and his siblings each seem to share a deep interest with their father, yet the man could not be more uninterest in them. Your voice is quiet as to not interrupt the peace around  the two of you, barely heard over the singing birds in the trees and bushes around as a maid approaches you. Interrupting you mid-sentence.

“My apologies, Aemond. It seems like playtime is over for now.” You set the boy down so you can stand up.

“The king demands to see you.” The woman simply says. Her eyes are trained on you with a look of pity in them.

You thank her with a nod. Immediately you can feel the perspiration on your palms and close your eyes to take a deep breath, in the hopes it would make the wish to chew down your fingernails again.

“Are you in trouble?” You hear Aemonds calm but concerned voice behind you. He looked so serious for a child.

“No, of course not. What would possibly make you think that, little dragon?” You put on a smile for the boy again. He doesn´t need to see the nervousness in you at what comes next.

“Whenever my siblings or I talk to my father we get yelled at.” The statement makes you click your tongue in disapproval of the treatment these children experienced.

“Don´t worry, Aemond. I have to leave now, but if you wish to, we can continue our reading in the evening. Hm?” you pick up your tone in the hopes to cheer the young Prince up again. Even if only a bit.

“I would like that.” He gives you a smile back.

“Perfect. I will see you later then.” You make your way towards the Maegor´s holdfast as quickly as possible, without running. Wondering what it would be that he would ask of you today.

Knocking quietly on the King´s chamber doors quietly you get called in in a matter of seconds. Viserys is sitting by his model, giving you some hope that today he had called you for something more innocent. You could not have been more wrong. Unknowing what his intentions for this meeting are, you stand by the closed door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You are sure you are not much older than the current queen, when rumors of her visits made their rounds through the castle´s staff.

“Your majesty called for me?” You bow your head in greeting.

“Yes. Come here.” The instruction comes in a calm tone and he doesn´t look up from his model.

“As you wish, your grace.” You go to kneel between his legs without any more words.

His leg muscles tense instantly under your touch as you let your hands rub over his thighs. Every stroke getting them closer to the hardness underneath the soft material of the clothing. Once your fingertips feel his manhood twitch, they waste no time to open the zipper to free his cock from its confines.

The two of you had done this countless times before. It never really got any easier, but you were always sure to find a present along with your moon tea. So, you start placing gentle kisses across his length, from the stones to the leaking tip. Which you grace with little kitten licks.

Viserys groans above you. One of his hands threading into your hair, tugging on it, at the roots. The action pulls a moan from your lips. You let his hand guide you. Your lips close around his shaft, taking him in as deep as possible without choking, hollowing out your cheeks to earn another groan. Viserys´ hand is not gentle as it guides your head up and down on his cock in a steady rhythm. He never had been. You don´t know why you still think it would change. His length twitches inside of your mouth. So you take him deeper, fastening the speed in which you bob your head up and down. It becomes harder to breath and you can feel your jaw starting to hurt slowly but surely. Then you here that moan and feel him twitch again. The telltale sign he is close to finishing. You pray for your knees that he comes quickly and start to play with his sac with the hand that isn´t wrapped around the base of his length.

Suddenly Viserys tugs at your hair again. Pulling you off him. You raise an eyebrow at him, but stay quiet.

“On the bed.” Comes his breathless instruction.

You follow it suit. Slipping the fine dress he had gifted you not too long ago over your head and rid yourself of your small clothes, before laying on your back in the middle of the mattress. Legs spread for him to see your cunny.

The corners of his parted lips go upwards with a huffed chuckle and you see the dilated pupils of those beautiful Targaryen typical lilac eyes travel downwards. Then with a deep inhale from both of your lungs he buries himself deep inside your tight heat. His breath fans over you face as he begins to move, but the way he ruts into your core is anything but romantic. It´s a cold way of satisfying his own needs without any regard for yours. A way to get rid of any stresses.

You make sure to hold on to his shoulders, gazing deeply into his eyes, that are focused on where he disappears inside of you. Soft and breathy whimpers fall from your mouth. Along with his huffs and hisses they are the only sounds in the room. The pace he sets at first is slow. Almost painfully so, with the lack of preparation, but when your hand finds its way between your legs to rub circles into the bundle of nerves sat atop of your cunt it gets easier. The motion sends sparks of pleasure through your body, the velvety walls fluttering around his cock. As a result Viserys picks up the pace with which he drives into you. The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin grows louder.

I doesn´t take long until you bring yourself to finish. Your walls tighten around him and in time with your shaking legs, you hear that telling groan from above you once more.

“Beg for me. Beg for my seed.” The kings breathless voice rings from over you and of course you oblige instantly.

“Please, my king. Spill yourself inside of me. Please give me your seed.” Your voice is high pitched and you look at him with the most needy look as your eyes meet.

With a few more rolls of his hips and a few more honey voiced pleas from your mouth, his forehead rests against your shoulder. You feel his finish paint your insides white, taking a few more breaths to calm down.

He is quick to pull his softening cock out of you and sit up at the edge of the bed, tugging himself into his pants to make himself presentable again. You do the same. Standing up to put your dress back on, with his seed dribbling down your thigh.

“Your majesty.” You curtsy once more when you are done. Closing the heavy door on your way out. Making your way through the corridors, to clean yourself up, before you returned to your proper tasks around the castle.

[songbirdseung]

for my pretty girl / sim jaeyun

synopsis: getting princess treatment from enhypen's own babygirl

pairing: idol!jake x nonidol!yn

You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Groggily, you reach over and pick it up, squinting at the bright screen. It's a message from your friend Jake.

"Hey there, princess! 👑 I'll pick you up in an hour. Be ready! 😉"

You blink in confusion, you've been friends with him for a while now, ever since you met at a fan meet-and-greet, but he's never mentioned anything like this before. Curiosity piqued; you quickly reply.

"Sure, I'll be ready! But what's this all about?"

Before you can even finish typing, Jake responds,

"It's a surprise! Just trust me, you're going to love it. See you soon, princess! 💖"

You can't help but smile at Jake's playful nickname for you. Despite the early hour, you feel a surge of excitement coursing through you. What could Jake have planned?

As you hurry to get ready, your mind races with possibilities. Could it be a special event or maybe a VIP tour of their latest music video set? Whatever it is, you can't wait to find out. With a quick glance in the mirror, you make sure you look presentable before grabbing your phone and heading out the door to meet Jake.

-

Jake grinned mischievously as he typed out the message to you, his fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced ease. He couldn't wait to see your reaction to his surprise plan. Just as he hit send, he felt a sudden presence behind him and froze.

Turning around, he found himself face to face with Ni-ki and Jay, who were smirking at him knowingly.

"Hey there, Jake," Ni-ki said, his tone teasing. "Who are you texting so early in the morning? Could it be a certain someone?"

Jake rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. "Just a friend," he replied, hoping to brush off their curiosity.

Jay raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just a friend, huh? You sure seem pretty excited about it."

Jake felt his cheeks heat up, knowing that he couldn't hide anything from his observant bandmates. "Okay, fine," he admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "It's Y/N. I'm planning something special for her today."

Ni-ki's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Ooh, is this the day you finally confess your undying love for her?" he teased, nudging Jake playfully.

Jake's cheeks flushed even deeper at the suggestion. "Shut up, Ni-ki," he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Jay chuckled, patting Jake on the back. "Don't worry, man. We won't tell anyone… unless you chicken out and don't confess," he teased, earning a playful shove from Jake in response.

As Jake and his bandmates continued their playful banter, Jake's phone buzzed in his pocket. He quickly pulled it out to see your message.

"Hey, I'm ready! Can't wait to see what you have planned. I'll be waiting for you outside. 😊"

Jake couldn't help but smile at your enthusiasm, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending the day with you. However, before he could reply, Ni-ki and Jay leaned over to sneak a peek at his phone.

"Ooh, looks like someone's eager to see you, Jake," Ni-ki teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Jay chuckled, nudging Jake playfully. "Looks like Prince Charming needs to pick up his princess in his white carriage," he added, earning a laugh from Ni-ki.

Jake rolled his eyes, trying to ignore their teasing. "Alright, alright, enough with the fairy tale jokes," he said, though a small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Deep down, he couldn't wait to see you and make your day feel like a real-life fairy tale.

As Jake made his way to the door, excitement bubbling inside him, he nearly collided with Heeseung, who emerged from his bedroom with a curious expression on his face.

"Hey, Jake, where are you off to all dressed up?" Heeseung asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Jake couldn't help but blush slightly under Heeseung's scrutinizing gaze. "Oh, uh, just heading out to meet someone," he replied, trying to keep his voice casual.

Heeseung's grin widened as he caught sight of Jake's outfit. "Ah, I see. So, is today the day you finally sweep Y/N off her feet?" he teased, his tone playful.

Jake's cheeks flushed even deeper at Heeseung's teasing. "Maybe," he admitted with a shy smile.

Before Jake could escape the interrogation, Sunghoon and Sunoo appeared from the living room, their eyes lighting up as they spotted Jake.

"Ooh, look at you all dressed up!" Sunghoon exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face. "Are you going on a date, Jake?"

Sunoo nudged Sunghoon with a playful smirk. "Yeah, with your princess, right?" he teased, earning a chuckle from Heeseung.

Jake couldn't help but laugh along with his bandmates, feeling grateful for their support and good-natured teasing. With a final wave goodbye, he headed out the door, eager to begin the day's adventures with you by his side.

-

You stand outside your apartment building, your heart pounding with excitement and nerves as you wait for Jake to arrive. You can't help but fidget with the hem of your shirt, feeling a rush of anticipation coursing through your veins.

Despite your nerves, you can't stop the smile that spreads across your face as you think about the day ahead. Whatever surprise Jake has planned for you, you know it's going to be amazing. After all, he's never failed to put a smile on your face before.

As you wait, you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You glance down at your phone, checking the time and wondering when Jake will arrive. Just as you start to worry that he might be running late, you spot a familiar figure approaching from down the street.

Your heart leaps with joy as Jake comes into view, a bright smile on his face as he waves to you. You return the gesture eagerly, feeling a rush of warmth at the sight of him. With each step he takes closer to you, your excitement grows, and before you know it, he's standing right in front of you.

"Hey there, princess," Jake says, his voice soft and gentle as he looks at you with a fond expression. "Are you ready for our adventure?"

You nod eagerly, unable to contain your excitement any longer. "Absolutely! I can't wait to see what you have planned," you reply, your voice filled with anticipation.

With a smile, Jake offers you his hand, and you take it without hesitation, feeling a surge of happiness as he leads you away from your apartment building and towards whatever surprises the day may hold. As you walk hand in hand with Jake, you can't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world, grateful for the opportunity to spend the day with someone who treats you like royalty.

-

As you walk alongside Jake, chatting excitedly about what the day might hold, he suddenly comes to a stop, causing you to halt in surprise. You look up at him, curious about the sudden pause in your journey.

"Hey, why did we stop?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion.

Jake's eyes sparkle with excitement as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a soft fabric blindfold. "We're getting close to our destination," he explains, holding up the blindfold with a grin. "But I need you to trust me and put this on."

As Jake presents the blindfold to you, your initial excitement is tinged with a hint of hesitation. The thought of being blindfolded in the middle of the city makes you feel a bit nervous, despite your trust in Jake.

"Um, do I really have to wear this?" you ask, chewing nervously on your bottom lip.

Jake's expression softens, and he gently brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. "I promise it's all part of the surprise," he reassures you, his voice soothing. "But if you're not comfortable, we can skip it."

You pause for a moment, torn between your curiosity and your nerves. But as you meet Jake's gaze, filled with warmth and understanding, you find yourself nodding.

"Okay, I trust you," you say with a small smile, feeling a surge of bravery. "Let's do it."

With a gentle touch, Jake carefully places the blindfold over your eyes, his touch grounding you in the moment. As darkness envelops your vision, you feel a sense of vulnerability but also a growing excitement for what lies ahead.

The world around you fades into darkness, heightening your other senses as you rely solely on the sound of Jake's voice and the feel of his hand in yours. You can't help but feel a thrill of anticipation as you wonder what surprises await you on the other side of the blindfold.

"Okay, princess, trust me," Jake says softly, his voice reassuring. "I promise you're going to love what's waiting for you."

With your trust placed in Jake, you allow him to guide you forward, each step filled with anticipation and excitement. You can feel the warmth of the sun on your skin and hear the sounds of the city bustling around you as you walk hand in hand with Jake.

As you continue onward, your other senses become heightened in the darkness of the blindfold. You catch the faint scent of flowers in the air and the sound of laughter drifting from nearby cafes, adding to the mystery of your surroundings.

Finally, after what feels like both an eternity and a mere moment, Jake comes to a stop once again. You can sense his presence beside you, his hand still clasped firmly in yours.

"We're here," he whispers, his voice tinged with excitement.

You can feel your heart racing in anticipation as Jake carefully removes the blindfold from your eyes, allowing you to blink in the sudden brightness of the sunlight.

As your eyes adjust to the light, you find yourself standing in front of a breathtaking garden filled with vibrant flowers of every color imaginable. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooms, and the sound of birds chirping fills your ears.

You turn to Jake, your eyes wide with wonder and gratitude. "Jake, this is incredible," you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement.

He smiles warmly at you, his eyes shining with joy. "I thought you might like it," he says softly. "Welcome to your own private garden, princess."

You find yourself standing in a picturesque setting—a lush green meadow adorned with colorful blankets, cushions, and a spread of delectable treats.

Your eyes widen in amazement as you take in the scene before you. There, in the center of it all, is a beautifully set picnic, complete with a variety of your favorite foods and drinks.

"Jake, this is… incredible," you exclaim, feeling overwhelmed by the effort and thoughtfulness he put into creating this magical moment for you.

He grins, his eyes sparkling with delight at your reaction. "I'm glad you like it," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth. "I wanted to create a special space just for us, where we can relax and enjoy each other's company."

You can't help but feel touched by Jake's gesture, and a sense of gratitude washes over you. Without hesitation, you step forward and wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace, overcome with emotion.

"Thank you, Jake," you murmur, your voice filled with sincerity. "This means the world to me."

As you pull away from the hug, Jake's smile widens, and he brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead. "Anything for my princess," he whispers, his words filled with affection.

As Jake's lips brush against your forehead in a tender gesture, a rush of warmth floods through you, sending shivers down your spine. In that fleeting moment, you can't help but feel a surge of emotions swirling within you—gratitude, affection, and a hint of something deeper.

As you settle down beside Jake on the picnic blanket, your mind begins to wander, thoughts spinning in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty. You find yourself replaying the countless moments you've shared with Jake—his lingering gazes, his gentle touches, his playful teasing—all of which seem to blur the lines between friendship and something more.

But as much as you try to decipher Jake's intentions, his actions remain a mystery, leaving you with more questions than answers. Does he see you as just a friend, or could there be something more between you?

You steal a glance at Jake, who is engrossed in setting up the picnic, his features illuminated by the soft glow of the afternoon sun. He looks so effortlessly handsome, a faint smile playing on his lips as he focuses on the task at hand.

A pang of longing tugs at your heart as you realize just how much you've come to care for Jake—the way his laughter brightens your darkest days, the comfort of his presence by your side, the way he makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

He glances over at you, noticing the distant look in your eyes. A flicker of concern crosses his face as he realizes that you're lost in your own thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N, is everything okay?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You startle slightly, snapping out of your reverie as you meet Jake's gaze. The worry etched on his features sends a pang of guilt through you, knowing that your distraction hasn't gone unnoticed.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," you reply quickly, offering him a reassuring smile. "Just got lost in my thoughts for a moment."

But Jake isn't convinced, and he reaches out to gently place a hand on yours, his touch grounding you in the present.

"Are you sure?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. "You can talk to me, you know."

His words wash over you like a comforting embrace, and you feel a swell of gratitude for his unwavering support. Despite the turmoil brewing within you, you find solace in the warmth of Jake's presence, knowing that he'll always be there for you, no matter what.

You squeeze his hand gently, offering him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Jake," you say sincerely. "I appreciate it."

With a reassuring nod, Jake returns the smile, his concern easing as he leans in closer to you. And as you continue to enjoy the picnic together, the weight of your worries begins to lift, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment in the presence of the one person who means the world to you.

-

As the two of you sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the tranquil surroundings of the picnic, the question weighs heavily on your mind. You can't shake the feeling of uncertainty that has been gnawing at you, and you know that you can't ignore it any longer.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your courage and turn to face Jake, your heart pounding in your chest. "Jake," you begin, your voice steady but laced with vulnerability, "I've been thinking… What are we?"

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implications and possibilities. You hold your breath, waiting for Jake's response, unsure of what to expect.

Jake's expression softens as he meets your gaze, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. He takes a moment to consider his words carefully before responding.

"You mean everything to me, Y/N," he says earnestly, his voice soft but unwavering. "You're my best friend, my confidante, my rock. I cherish our friendship more than anything."

Your heart swells at his words, and a sense of relief washes over you. But there's a lingering question in your mind, one that you can't seem to shake.

"But Jake," you press on, your voice trembling slightly with uncertainty, "is there… more than just friendship between us?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy with anticipation. You hold your breath, waiting for Jake's answer, hoping against hope that he feels the same way you do.

Jake's gaze softens as he reaches out to gently cup your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. "Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness, "I care about you more than words can express. And if you're asking if there's something more between us… then yes, there is."

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, and a rush of emotion overwhelms you. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the picnic and the warmth of Jake's love, you feel a sense of peace and certainty wash over you.

As the tension builds between you and Jake, you can feel the weight of your unspoken question hanging in the air. You want to take the next step, to lean in and kiss him, but you hesitate, unsure if he feels the same way.

Before you can gather the courage to act, Jake's gentle voice breaks through your thoughts, drawing your attention back to him.

"Y/N," he says softly, his eyes searching yours with a mix of warmth and sincerity. "I want to make sure you're comfortable with this. Can I kiss you?"

His words catch you off guard, filling you with a rush of warmth and appreciation. The fact that Jake would ask for your consent before taking such an intimate step speaks volumes about the respect and care he has for you.

You meet Jake's gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you realize just how much he values your feelings and boundaries.

"Yes, Jake," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want that too."

With a tender smile, Jake leans in closer, closing the distance between you until his lips meet yours in a gentle and passionate kiss. In that moment, all doubts and uncertainties fade away, replaced by the overwhelming sense of connection and love that binds you together.

-

As the day goes on, Jake takes your hand and leads you away from the picnic area. You follow him, curiosity piqued by the secretive smile on his face.

After a short walk, you arrive at a small, private amusement park tucked away from the public eye. The park is bathed in soft, twinkling lights, and the sound of laughter and music fills the air.

"Welcome to our own private amusement park," Jake says, gesturing to the rides and attractions around you. "I thought we could have some fun together, away from prying eyes."

You can't help but gasp in delight, feeling like a kid again as you take in the sights and sounds of the park. Jake leads you to a carousel, where a beautifully decorated horse awaits you.

"Care to take a ride with me?" Jake asks, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You nod eagerly, and together, you climb onto the carousel horse, the music swirling around you as the carousel begins to spin. As you ride, you can't help but laugh and shout with joy, feeling completely free and carefree in this magical moment with Jake.

After the carousel ride, Jake takes you to other attractions in the park, from a Ferris wheel with breathtaking views of the city to a cozy, romantic tunnel of love. Each moment spent together deepens your bond, creating memories that will last a lifetime.

As the night draws to a close, Jake leads you to a quiet spot in the park, where you can sit and enjoy the beauty of the night sky. Wrapped in each other's arms, you watch the stars twinkle above, feeling grateful for this moment of peace and happiness with the person you love.

As you lean against Jake, you can't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. And as you drift off to sleep, the sounds of the amusement park fading into the background, you know that this day will be one you'll never forget.

-

As you and Jake explore the small amusement park together, laughter and joy filling the air, Jake's phone buzzes with a notification. He pulls it out of his pocket and chuckles as he reads the message from his members' group chat.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head curiously.

Jake grins and shows you the message, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "It's from the guys," he explains. "They're asking how our day is going."

You glance at the screen and read the playful messages from Ni-ki, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Heeseung, Jungwon and Jay, all filled with teasing remarks and cheeky emojis.

"Looks like they're curious about our little adventure," you comment, unable to suppress a smile.

Jake nods, his laughter infectious as he replies to the group chat, giving them a brief update on your day so far. The playful banter continues back and forth, with each member chiming in with their own witty remarks and jokes.

-

As the night wears on, Jake leads you to the final location of your adventure—a secluded spot overlooking the city skyline, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and stars above. You can't help but marvel at the breathtaking view, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you take in the beauty of the city below.

As you settle down together on a blanket spread out on the grass, a comfortable silence falls between you. The gentle rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city provide a soothing backdrop to your thoughts.

After a moment, you turn to Jake, your heart heavy with the weight of the conversation you know you need to have.

"Jake," you begin softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I… I can't help but think about the challenges we'll face if we decide to pursue this… relationship."

Jake's brow furrows in concern as he looks at you, his gaze filled with understanding. "I know, Y/N," he replies, his voice gentle. "It won't be easy, especially with my career and the public scrutiny that comes with it."

You nod, grateful for his honesty and empathy. "Exactly," you continue, a hint of sadness in your voice. "I don't want to hide our relationship or constantly worry about being discovered by the media or fans. But at the same time, I don't want to put your career at risk."

Jake reaches out to take your hand in his, his touch reassuring. "I understand, Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with determination. "And I promise to do everything in my power to protect you and our relationship. We'll find a way to navigate this together, no matter what challenges come our way."

You smile at his words, feeling a surge of hope and gratitude. With Jake by your side, you know that you'll be able to face whatever obstacles lie ahead, united in your love and commitment to each other.

As you lean in to press a gentle kiss against Jake's lips, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you, you know that no matter what the future holds, your love for each other will always be your guiding light.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Timeline: Bullying Allegations, Rumors, Investigations, and Leaks

Unless cited, all links from the Daily Mail. Apologies, but all links are "active" webpages. There's just too many. I specifically chose the DM because they always TL;DR their articles, which I'm including here so y'all don't have to go click these links.

This is going to be a little bit of a differently-formatted timeline.

These items in bold red are critical rota stories that sort of blew things open, if you will. These ones will have excerpts.

These items in bold purple are Tumblr gossip.

Let's jump in! One quick disclaimer first: This isn't an exhaustive list. this is only what I've been able to dig up today.

10/28/2018: The real Charles revealed: William’s wild mood swings, Harry’s pre-wedding meltdown and how the Prince of Wales finally earned his boys’ respect, as revealed by his biographer ROBERT JOBSON

The weeks leading up to the wedding had been far more tense for both Harry and Meghan than most people realised. In fact, they’d both felt so stressed that they’d booked a series of appointments with Ross Barr, known as ‘the acupuncturist to the stars’. Whether these treatments had much impact on Harry is debatable. In the build-up to the wedding, says an inside source, he was ‘petulant and short-tempered’ with members of staff. Raising his voice on occasion, Harry would insist: ‘What Meghan wants, she gets.’

11/8/2018: ‘Meghan cannot have whatever she wants’: The Queen ‘had words’ with Harry over his ‘difficult’ bride-to-be’s choice of wedding tiara, royal insider claims

Meghan Markle reportedly wanted a tiara with emeralds for her wedding day 

But stones may have been Russian so she had to choose another, it was claimed

Prince Harry allegedly 'hit the roof' when told the headpiece was off-limits

Queen 'had words' with Prince Harry about Meghan, a royal insider claims

Source said Her Majesty said: 'She gets what tiara she's given by me' 

11/9/2018: MAJ RAPPED MEG The Queen warned Prince Harry over Meghan Markle’s ‘difficult’ behavior after row over bride’s tiara for royal wedding by Dan Wootton of The Sun

11/10/2018: CDAN Blind. This came out a couple of weeks after tumblr (the old TCD blog) got a massive dose of Aussie tea. Scroll down to August 2019 for those stories.

Apparently the diva behavior on a recent trip was nothing compared to the verbally abusive thrashing the employee took on that trip when things were not perfect. The employee threatened to sue because of how bad the abuse was which would have become public. The employee instead was given a check and an apology by the in-laws of the former actress turned abuser.

11/15/2018: Duke and Duchess of Cambridge join youngsters on The One Show sofa to speak about new anti-bullying app (with Kate in another recycled dress by Emilia Wickstead). This event was the day after Charles’s 70th birthday bash at BP, to which Meghan wore the blood earrings again and the gossip leaked that the Sussexes left early.

11/15/2018: Prince William accuses Facebook of putting ‘profits before values’ as he slams social media giants for being ‘on the back foot’ in fight against fake news, privacy and cyber bullying

11/17/2018: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle change plans to move into Kensington Palace apartment as resident Royal ‘doesn’t want to leave’ by The Sun. This was the first time that rumors of a rift between the Cambridges and the Sussexes over behavior/attitude were published by the printed press.

Kensington Palace isn’t short of luxury accommodation, with Prince William and Kate Middleton living in a lavish 20-room apartment in the grounds. And it is also the residence of The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, The Duke and Duchess of Kent and Prince and Princess Michael of Kent. The Queen’s cousin, The Duke of Gloucester, 74, and his wife Birgitte, 72, live next door to The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge in their grand 21-room apartment. Prince Harry is said to have been eyeing up the property as the perfect place to raise a family. But a source claims Danish-born Brigitte is refusing to move. The Mail quoted a friend of Duchess of Gloucester saying: “Birgitte doesn’t want to leave. “And why should she? She and her husband are still full-time working members of The Firm and they were given their apartment by Her Majesty.”

Many blogs read the bolded section above as Harry and Meghan were pushing the Gloucesters hard to move out of KP #1. Not necessarily bullying them, but...not being nice about it either.

11/25/2018: MEGGING A MOVE Prince Harry told staff ‘What Meghan wants, Meghan gets’ as it’s claimed couple are moving away from Wills and Kate to flee ‘goldfish bowl’ Royal life by The Sun

11/26/2018: Is Meghan Markle and Kate Middleton’s rift causing tension between Harry and William and behind Windsor move?

11/28/2018: Meghan Markle ‘left Kate Middleton in tears’ over her strict demands for Princess Charlotte’s bridesmaid’s dress by Jack Royston, The Sun.

This is one of the earliest "admissions" that Meghan sends the staff emails out of business hours.

Rumours of a rift between the duchesses swirled after royal sources revealed emotional Kate, 36, ended up weeping. An insider claimed the incident followed a “stressful” dress fitting — just weeks before Meghan, 37, married Prince Harry. Royal aides did not deny the incident had taken place, amid claims that the duchesses are “very ­different people”. Princess Charlotte, three, had been trying on her outfit just weeks before Meghan’s wedding to Prince Harry. Meghan, 37, is understood to have insisted on “the very best” for her big day — but the fitting did not go according to her demands. Royal sources said the pressure of the “stressful” fitting became too much for her now sister-in-law, and that Duchess of Cambridge Kate was left shaken and in tears. An insider told the Daily Telegraph: “Kate had only just given birth to her third child, Prince Louis, and was feeling quite ­emotional.” The reported incident sparked rumours of a rift between Kate and the Duchess of Sussex. The duchesses are understood to have put the incident behind them.

and

Concerns have surfaced that American actress Meghan has at times struggled to fit into royal circles. Sources claimed she regularly “bombarded” staff with early morning calls and emails.

12/11/2018: How royal staff are calling Meghan Duchess Difficult as 2nd aide exits by The Daily Express. This is the first recording of "Duchess Difficult" in the printed press and the first hints that Harry may have confronted William about Meghan's red carpet welcome into the BRF.

The Duchess let slip recently that she's not sleeping well and has resorted to 4.30am yoga sessions to help her relax. However, her early starts, also said to involve firing off emails, aren't to everyone's taste and Meghan will soon have to find an aide more in tune with her lifestyle.

and

Kate was reported to have become upset by the manner in which Meghan speaks to staff and although this has been denied by Kensington Palace it has not stopped the chatter that all is not harmonious.

and

According to one insider, Harry, who is notoriously protective when it comes to his new wife and is desperate for her to enjoy her official duties, is said to be unimpressed with the welcome William has given Meghan. He feels his older brother could have done more, including ensuring that Kate took the American under her wing. Harry, 34, is said to be mindful of how isolated and miserable his mother, Diana, became. In a TV appearance in February, involving the so-called Fab Four of William, Harry, Kate and Meghan, there was an awkward moment when the group was asked about whether they had disagreements. “Oh yes," said William, while Harry tried to make light of the issue by joking that they came "thick and fast". But the insider says: "Harry won't take any criticism of Meghan and he is so sensitive that he often sees criticism or negativity when there isn't any."

12/18/2018: Meghan’s supposedly banned Harry from a traditional shoot, staff are leaving, and it’s claimed courtiers were aghast when this starry picture was (briefly) online. Now, RICHARD KAY asks…Duchess Difficult - or just defiantly different?

Meghan's appearances seem more flashy than other members of Royal Family 

Two days after Fashion Awards show, Duchess of Cornwall posed with donkey

Photo from night was posted on Fashion Council's Instagram but quickly deleted

The Queen is said to be determined to 'not allow Meghan to feel unwelcome' 

2/6/2019: Meghan Markle’s Best Friends Break Their Silence: ‘We Want to Speak the Truth’ (People 5 Friends article)

2/6/2019: ‘Please stop victimizing me, Dad’: Meghan sent her estranged father a letter after her wedding begging him to stop attacking her in the media - and he responded by asking for a photo shoot

Meghan wrote the letter to her dad, Thomas Markle, shortly after her wedding to Prince Harry 

'I have one father. Please stop victimizing me through the media,' she wrote

Friends say Thomas Markle responded by asking Meghan for a photo shoot

'I think she'll always feel genuinely devastated by what he has done,' friends said

Those friends who spoke out said they are concerned about how the 'emotional trauma' of dealing with her father might be affecting Meghan's unborn baby

The five anonymous friends  also rejected rumors she was feuding with her sister-in-law Kate Middleton

'There is nothing behind the feud with Kate,' they said. 'It's completely untrue'

2/6/2019: Samantha Markle calls out sister Meghan for ‘bulsshit’ story in which ‘imaginary’ pals praised the pregnant princess saying she is nothing but a ‘wealthy narcissist’ with ‘lie-abetes’

2/7/2019: ‘Harry will be the BEST dad!’ Meghan praises her husband - amid claims she is suffering ‘emotional trauma’ over feud with her own father - as royal couple dazzle at the Endeavour Fund Awards in London. (This is Meghan's cater waiter outfit.)

4/12/2019: The Meghan Markle ‘Duchess Difficult’ Rumors Just Won’t Stop - and This One is Bizarre by Glamour Magazine. I'm including this one because it cites a few Sun articles that are no longer accessible.

According to The Sun, staff members at Frogmore Cottage, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's new home, have been "banned" from using the parking lot closest to the residence and instead must use the one a mile away. The sources who spoke to The Sun seem to confirm a change in parking permits is happening, but here's the kicker: It was reportedly the superintendent of the castle's decision, not Markle's. And yet all the tabloids reporting this story are making it seem as though Markle woke up and randomly decreed, "You know what would be fun? Forcing all the staff members to walk a mile to work each day." The headline in one article starts with "Not in Meg Back Yard," which is apparently the acronym insiders are using to describe this change. That makes it sound like Markle is the one behind the choice.

8/18/2019: Massive Aussie tea and bullying/rude behavior compilation thread posted on Tumblr by The Charlatan Duchess. Original Aussie tea was first published in October 2018 but I can’t find any of the original posts to verify a specific date - all those blogs seem to have been deactivated. Includes gossip/tea about:

Admiralty House/Australia tour

Rumors from Toronto days

Behavior towards customer service staff/industry

“Use and abuse” treatment of entertainment industry staffers

Morocco tour

Birmingham UK visit

Cliveden House/Royal Wedding Eve

Wimbledon 2019 clearout

Vogue and Met Gala

Michelle Obama’s book-reading

South Africa

Attitude towards nannies

10/2/2019: Instagram will roll out its anti-bullying ‘Restrict’ tool to all users so they can avoid nasty commenters without being caught reporting or blocking people

10/28/2019: Author Matt Haig whose poem Meghan Markle included in her Vogue issue defends Duchess against ‘bullies’ - saying ‘you can be famous and struggle’

6/14/2020: Meghan Markle’s painful dilemma: They’re as close as sisters but will she now ditch her best friend Jessica Mulroney after ‘racist bully shame’?

3/2/2021: Royal aides reveal bullying claim before Meghan’s Oprah interview by Valentine Low for The Times - Archived link

(go ahead and give the whole thing a read)

3/2/2021: Buckingham Palace insists it DIDN’T smear Meghan after she accused aides of a ‘calculated campaign’ against her - after ex-staff claim she ‘bullied two PAs’ and ‘drove them out’ of Kensington Palace, four days before explosive Oprah interview will be aired

The Times reported a spokesman for the Sussexes vehemently denying the claims, saying they were 'the victims of a calculated smear campaign based on misleading and harmful misinformation'

A bullying complaint was lodged against the Duchess of Sussex by a senior member of Kensington Palace staff before she and Prince Harry quit as working royals

The Times reported it was made in October 2018 by Jason Knauf, who worked as communications secretary to Harry and Meghan

He is said to have claimed the duchess 'drove two personal assistants out of the household and was undermining the confidence of a third staff member' 

Sensationally, the couple's lawyers told the newspaper it was 'being used by Buckingham Palace to peddle a wholly false narrative' before this weekend's interview with Oprah Winfrey 

3/2/2021: Meghan Markle ‘Saddened’ by ‘Attack on Her Character’ amid Bullying Allegations from Palace Staffers by People Magazine

"The Duchess is saddened by this latest attack on her character, particularly as someone who has been the target of bullying herself and is deeply committed to supporting those who have experienced pain and trauma," a spokesperson for the Duke and Duchess of Sussex said in a statement obtained by PEOPLE. "She is determined to continue her work building compassion around the world and will keep striving to set an example for doing what is right and doing what is good."

3/3/2021: Buckingham Palaces releases a statement concerning the bullying allegations reported by The Times

3/3/2021: Royals’ Meghan ‘bully’ crisis: As Buckingham Palace launches an unprecedented investigation into sensational bullying claims against Meghan, make no mistake this is a crisis that echoes the Abdication, writes Richard Kay

Meghan Markle is the subject of bullying complaints from her former royal aides in a leaked email 

Jason Knauf alleged she forced two assistants out of the household amid claims of 'emotional cruelty' 

Buckingham Palace is launching an unprecedented investigation into the allegations, deepening the crisis

3/3/2021: Meghan makes jaw-dropping claim the Royal Family has ‘perpetuated falsehoods’ about her and Harry in Oprah interview teaser released just hours after Palace launched sensational probe into allegations she bullied staff

CBS has released a second clip previewing Sunday night's Oprah Winfrey interview with Meghan and Harry

In the clip, the Duchess of Sussex is seen sitting alone talking to the talk show host

She is asked by Winfrey whether she had worried about the consequences of speaking out

Markle replies that she felt she had no choice, because the Royal Family were 'perpetuating falsehoods'

She said that, despite the risk of 'losing things', she felt that 'there is a lot that has been lost already'

The clip, recorded several weeks ago, aired on the day Buckingham Palace announced a bullying inquiry

The inquiry was launched after The Times on Tuesday reported allegations of bullying by the duchess's staff 

3/3/2021: ‘I can’t ever see those two back on the balcony’: Palace launches probe into Meghan bullying claims - leaving past and present Royal staff ‘shaken’ by ‘unhappy memories’ being brought up about a particularly ‘toxic period.’

Meghan allegedly inflicted 'emotional cruelty' on aides and 'drove them out' 

Harry and his wife were both also labelled 'outrageous bullies' in allegations 

'Broken' aides told of feeling humiliated, 'sick', 'terrified', left 'shaking' with fear 

Buckingham Palace announced a formal probe into the allegations in statement 

3/3/2021: Revenge of the Sussex survivors’ club: The extraordinary inside story of how a fairytale turned into a nightmare of ‘traumatised’ staff - by Royal Editor REBECCA ENGLISH, who saw so much of it herself

Members of 'Sussex Survivors' Club' worked for couple and lived to tell the tale 

Include US spin doctor Jason Knauf & Aussie private secretary Samantha Cohen

Some even believe they may have form of post-traumatic stress from experience 

But I have personally witnessed more than one member of staff driven to tears by the treatment they were subjected to by the duke and duchess before the couple acrimoniously quit as working royals. One person sobbed down the phone to me after a particularly harrowing day. They clearly felt emotionally broken and could no longer cope with the pressure they were being subjected to. Others have indicated to me they were being asked to behave in a manner they did not feel professionally comfortable with, particularly in their dealings with the media. Several aides have also told me that Meghan in particular was very good at 'drawing' staff into her confidence, flattering them as if they were the only person in the world she could trust and asking them to help her with various duties.

and

Toxic, hostile, distrustful, poisonous: all words I have heard regularly used over the past few years to describe people's experiences working in the Sussexes' household.

and

But I have since been told that this popular aide was deeply unhappy about her experience working for the duchess and had been 'desperate' to get out as long as she could professionally put a brave face on it. Likewise a third member of staff. Mr Knauf makes clear in his email, as reported by The Times, that he was also concerned about the couple's hugely experienced deputy private secretary, Samantha Cohen. She had worked for the Queen for more than 20 years and was personally persuaded by the monarch to stay on and help the couple navigate their first few years of royal life. He indicated that she was experiencing extreme stress and said: 'I questioned if the Household policy on bullying and harassment applies to principals [the term used to refer to a member of the royal family].' One source tells me wryly, with an eye to Meghan's much-hyped championing of female empowerment: 'Note that everyone concerned was a woman.' Another adds: 'Sam always made clear that it was like working for a couple of teenagers. They were impossible and pushed her to the limit. She was miserable.'

and

The Times also makes reference to an incident during the couple's tour to Australia, New Zealand, Fiji and Tonga in 2018, which was a particularly difficult one for all concerned, Meghan included. She was, of course, pregnant at the time. The newspaper reports how Meghan cut short a visit to a market in Fiji because she was concerned about the presence of a UN organisation promoting women, with which she had worked before and made clear she no longer wished to have anything to do with. At the time officials had suggested that it was because it was humid and the crowd was oppressive in the market. I was there at the time and witnessed Meghan turn and 'hiss' at a member of her entourage, clearly incandescent with rage about something, and demand to leave. I later saw that same – female – highly distressed member of staff sitting in an official car, with tears running down her face. Our eyes met and she lowered hers, humiliation etched on her features. At the time I was unable to document anything as I couldn't conclusively link the two incidents together, despite my suspicions. I have subsequently found out from other sources that my instincts were right.

3/4/2021: Duchesses at war: Meghan ‘blamed Kate and Camilla for leaking stories about her’, claims aide amid raging royal war - as at least TEN palace staff say they will cooperate with ‘bullying’ probe

Meghan and Harry felt stories were briefed by Kate, Camilla or Charles' households, the Palace insider said

Claimed couple 'assumed men in grey suits were obsessed with destroying them' during in Kensington Palace

Revelations came after Meghan was accused of 'driving out' two PAs and shattering the confidence of another

One former aide branded  Prince Harry and his wife 'outrageous bullies' in The Times earlier this week

Meghan said newspaper was 'being used by Buckingham Palace to peddle a wholly false narrative' about her

Comes ahead of Meghan and Harry's bombshell tell-all interview with Oprah Winfrey to be aired in the UK

3/4/2021: Meghan Markle’s ‘furious rows’ with aides over designer freebies: Staff warned Duchess it breached royal protocol to keep free clothes at time of bullying allegations, sources claim

Meghan Markle, 39, clashed with royal aides over freebie designer clothes 

Sources revealed designer outfits were sent to Kensington Palace for Duchess 

Insider said she 'had to be told it was not the done thing when you are a royal'  

Duchess has been accused of 'driving out' two PAs and acting like 'a bully'

Said to shatter confidence of another member of Kensington Palace staff 

Lawyers for the Sussexes have vehemently denied they have bullied or mistreated staff 

3/4/2021: ‘We can FINALLY tell the truth’: Former Royal aide who claims she was ‘bullied by Meghan Markle’ welcomes Palace probe and hopes it will put pressure on her and Harry to provide evidence

Meghan allegedly inflicted 'emotional cruelty' on aides and 'drove them out' 

Harry and his wife were both also labelled 'outrageous bullies' in allegations 

'Broken' aides told of feeling humiliated, 'sick', 'terrified', left 'shaking' with fear 

Buckingham Palace announced a formal probe into the allegations in statement

One alleged victim: 'We'll finally be able to tell the truth. It's not going to be easy' 

3/5/2021: EXCLUSIVE: ‘What’s done is done!’ Friends of Meghan say she would never postpone tell-all Oprah interview and clam palace is using Prince Philip’s health as an ‘excuse to keep her muzzled’

Mounting pressure has been put on Meghan and Harry to push back the much-anticipated interview special out of respect for Prince Philip's health 

'Even if Meghan had the choice to postpone the Oprah special she said she wouldn't,' a friend of the Sussexes tells DailyMail.com

The Duke of Edinburgh, 99, underwent heart surgery this week 

According to the well-placed  source,  the interview 'has absolutely nothing to do with Prince Philip and that this is just an excuse by the palace to keep her muzzled'

'Meghan said now the whole world can see what she had to endure for months on end,' they added

On Wednesday Buckingham Palace announced an inquiry into Meghan's behavior after The Times reported allegations of bullying by the duchess's staff 

'[Meghan] said these outrageous allegations confirm why she and Harry had to part ways and make it their mission to be a voice for the underdog,' they said 

3/5/2021: CBS releases new clip from bombshell interview: Meghan claims she was stopped by Palace aides from talking to Oprah ‘personally’ when host tried to set up interview with her before her wedding and says that she’s now ‘ready to talk’

Fourth clip from Oprah interview airs on CBS This Morning ahead of premiere on US network on Sunday night

Duchess of Sussex claims royal aides blocked her from having a personal conversation with Oprah Winfrey

Meghan says she remembers chat with Oprah 'very well' and there had to be other people in the same room

She adds that it's 'really liberating to be able to have the right and the privilege' to say 'Yes, I'm ready to talk'

Two-hour interview which also features Prince Harry will have its UK premiere on ITV next Monday at 9pm 

3/5/2021: Meghan Markle’s make-up artist BFF Daniel Martin shares a defiant poem claiming ‘the world cannot overcome her’ as he speaks out amid bombshell claims she bullied staff at Kensington Palace

Daniel, from New York, joined army of Meghan's pals who leapt to her defence

This week allegations were made that the Duchess of Sussex bullied former aides, 'driving out' two PAs and shattering confidence of another staff member 

Daniel shared a poem by Lao Tzu, a 4th century Taoist author and thinker

He accompanied candid snap of him applying blusher to the Duchess's cheeks

3/5/2021: Meghan’s best friend from college Lindsay Roth defends her from bombshell claims she bullied staff and claims that ‘goodwill runs in her bones’

Lindsay Jill Roth, Meghan Markle's best friend from college, rushed to her defense on Thursday amid bullying claims

The producer said in an Instagram post that 'goodwill runs in her bones'

She also branded the Duchess an 'altruistic, magnanimous friend'

The pair met while they were at Northwestern University 17 years ago 

Roth shared pictures from their graduation and her wedding day

Her comments came amid allegations Meghan bullied former aides, 'driving out' two PAs and shattering the confidence of another staff member

And ahead of Meghan and Harry's tell-all Oprah interview to be aired Sunday

3/11/2021: ‘Perhaps they can finally set the record state about me’: Meghan Markle’s biographer Omid Scobie quotes email he claims she sent to Kensington Palace over flower girl row with Kate - so who showed him the message?

Author of Finding Freedom claims Meghan emailed royal aide over the claims 

She allegedly asked if Kensington Palace could 'finally set the record straight' 

Meghan claimed this week it was Kate who made her cry in reported dress feud 

3/17/2021: Givenchy Anon

Meghan made Kate cry.

Bullied Charlotte, mocked and made fun of her voice

Screamed at the staff

Slapped one of the staff who was fitting her

Meghan encouraged Ivy to pick on Charlotte, to the point where Charlotte was pulled out of the fittings and her dress was made based on Florence van Cutsem’s measurements

Flower crowns for bridesmaids was given at the last minute

9/25/2021: The Meghan Paradox: Royal author ANDREW MORTON explores how she preaches compassion, yet cast her own father into outer darkness and claims she’s the victim of uncaring Royals, yet in truth was welcomed with open arms

11/29/2021: Meghan’s lawyer denies the Duchess of Sussex ever bullied staff in bombshell BBC documentary - saying she didn’t ‘repeatedly and deliberately hurt someone’ but adds she ‘wouldn’t want to negate anyone’s personal experiences’

Meghan allegedly inflicted 'emotional cruelty' on aides and 'drove them out'

Harry and his wife were both also labelled 'outrageous bullies' in allegations 

'Broken' aides told of feeling humiliated, 'sick', 'terrified', left 'shaking' with fear

Tonight her lawyer told BBC programme she did not carry out any bullying

But she added:  'She wouldn’t want to negate anyone’s personal experiences’

12/3/2021: Duchess of Cambridge was left in tears after confronting Meghan Markle over ‘bullying of Palace staff’ just days before the royal wedding, Camilla pal Kirstie Allsopp claims

Duchess of Cambridge was reportedly left in tears after row with Meghan Markle

The infamous argument came days before Meghan and Harry's wedding in 2018

Kirstie Allsopp has claimed the row was about claims Meghan had bullied staff

It has previously been claimed that the argument was over flower girl dresses

In her Oprah interview, Meghan had claimed that she was the one who had cried 

12/10/2021: Is Meghan ‘bullying’ probe being kicked into long grass? Buckingham Palace inquiry into allegations the Duchess of Sussex bullied staff only interviews ‘a tiny handful’ of people who worked for her

Revelation prompted fears the investigation is being 'kicked into the long grass'

Palace aides announced in March that they were launching an internal inquiry 

Staff were said to have been left in tears and feeling 'traumatised' 

1/6/2022: Damaging bullying claims are used ‘very casually’ over allegations Meghan Markle mistreated palace staff, duchess’s lawyer tells BBC’s Amol Rajan

Meghan Markle's lawyer Jenny Afia of Schillings claims allegations of bullying are used 'very casually'  

Miss Afia tells BBC that the word 'bullying' is a 'very, very damaging term... particularly for career women'

She spoke to Amol Rajan in podcast based on controversial royal documentary which aired last November

1/22/2022: Prince Andrew should be subject of bullying probe over ‘12 complaints’ made by Palace staff over ‘overbearing and verbally abusive’ behavior, according to a formal royal protection officer

Paul Page worked in the Royal Protection Command from 1998 until 2004

He has claimed he personally made three separate complaints to the Palace

Speaking to The Sunday Mirror, he said he is aware of 'at least a dozen' others

He alleged his complaints during his time working for the Palace were ignored 

Mr Page has now called on the palace to launch an investigation into Andrew

6/29/2022: Meghan ‘bullying’ inquiry buried: Findings of Palace probe into claims duchess drove out two ‘traumatised’ assistants will NEVER be made public…and even those who took part ‘haven’t been told the outcome’

Meghan is alleged to have ‘belittled’ two female assistants out of Royal service

Royal aides admitted for the first time that findings will never be made public  

Those who took part in the inquiry are said to not be told what the outcome is

Palace confirms that it's concluded and ‘recommendations' will be taken forward

6/30/2022: Palace aides’ refusal to publish findings of Meghan ‘bullying’ probe is an ‘olive branch’ to the Sussexes as royals face the prospect of release of Prince Harry’s memoir, say experts

Meghan is alleged to have ‘belittled’ two female assistants out of Royal service in claims that emerged in 2021

Royal aides who gave evidence have admitted for the first time that findings will never be made public 

Palace confirms that it's concluded and ‘recommendations' will be taken forward but will not publish report

6/30/2022: Buckingham Palace faces questions over Meghan ‘bullying’ probe as it ‘revises’ its HR policies in wake of inquiry but keeps its findings a SECRET…with even those who took part ‘not aware of the outcome’

Meghan is alleged to have ‘belittled’ two female assistants out of Royal service in claims that emerged in 2021

Royal aides who gave evidence have admitted for the first time that findings will never be made public 

Palace confirms that it's concluded and ‘recommendations' will be taken forward but will not publish report

6/30/2022: What do the Palace fear revealing about ‘Duchess Difficult’? Staff say they were ‘traumatised’ by Meghan’s behavior. But her defenders say she just had high standards. As a report into the episode is buried, RICHARD KAY examines the history of the saga.

9/21/2022: Ben Goldsmith claims Meghan Markle is disliked in Britain NOT because of racism but ‘because she is a manipulative bully who got found out’

Ben is a non-executive board member for the Department of Environment, Food, and Rural Affairs; brother to government minister Zac Goldsmith

9/24/2022: Palace aides take revenge on the ‘Difficult Duchess’: Insiders claim Meghan ‘moaned she wasn’t getting PAID for royal tours, agreed to Oprah interview SIX months before Megxit and reduced staff to tears with bullying and tantrums’ - in bombshell new book

Explosive extracts of Courtiers: The Hidden Power Behind the Crown by Valentine Low were published today   

Meghan did not understand why she had to shake people's hands during a tour of Australia, they revealed 

Sources claim Meghan bullied her staff who were 'terrified', 'broken' and 'destroyed' by her treatment of them

The book details a meeting where Meghan allegedly criticised a young female member in front of colleagues

9/24/2022: Meghan’s aides branded her a ‘narcissistic sociopath’ over her demanding behavior - and gave themselves the name ‘Sussex Survivors Club’, new book claims

New book claims that Meghan Markle's aides, the 'Sussex Survivors' Club', called her a 'narcissistic sociopath'

Courtiers: The Hidden Power Behind The Crown describes Sussexes' deteriorating relationship with staff

Book also claims that staff became convinced the Duchess wanted to show how the institution failed her

Some of Ms Markle's staff suspected that she left her Royal duties behind because she wanted to make money

10/25/2022: Meghan says ‘Duchess Difficult’ label was racist, connects it to the ‘Angry Black Woman’ archetype during a very special episode of her podcast

1/8/2023: Harry and Meghan’s 25-page rebuttal of bullying claims: Prince rails against royal staff ‘lies’ about his wife in book - and reveals couple filed hefty report ‘full of evidence’ to challenge claims

In his book Prince Harry says claims his wife Meghan Markle bullied staff are a lie

The Duke says he and Meghan produced a 25-page report to clear her name

She was accused of screaming and reducing royal household staff to tears

4/15/2024: Royal aide Samantha ‘the Panther’ Cohen confirms she was one of 10 courtiers interviewed over claims Meghan Markle ‘bullied’ Palace staff - as she reveals the late Queen ‘loved it’ when things went wrong

4/16/2024: Ex-Harry and Meghan aide Samantha ‘the Panther’ Cohen says palace staff struggled to find her successor as private secretary - and would-be replacement quit while ‘being shown the ropes’ on tour to Africa

4/24/2024: Buckingham Palace must release ruling over Meghan Markle staff bullying allegations, royal expert tells latest episode of YouTube talk show The Reaction

8/15/2024: RICHARD EDEN: The real reason Harry and Meghan have just lost their 18th staff member…according to my source

My first inkling that the Duke and Duchess of Sussex may have trouble holding onto staff came back in 2018 when I received a tip that Meghan’s personal assistant, Melissa Toubati, had quit suddenly, just six months after the American actress had married into the Royal Family. ‘It’s a real shock,’ a source told me at the time. ‘Why would she want to leave such a prestigious job so soon?’ Officials usually decline to discuss staffing matters, so it took me aback when a senior Palace source chose to pay tribute to her publicly. ‘Melissa is a hugely talented person,’ the source said. ‘She played a pivotal role in the success of the royal wedding and will be missed by everyone in the Royal Household.’ For someone to go out of their way to pay such fulsome tribute suggested Melissa’s colleagues were not happy with her departure. The fact she left so soon raised questions over the reasons for her exit. 

8/26/2024 - Kensington Palace insider brutal first reaction to Meghan Markle amid bullying claims, by The Mirror.

Allegations of bullying were behind Prince William's decision to split his household from Prince Harry's in 2019, according to a royal expert. William was made aware of claims that Meghan Markle had 'bullied' palace members of staff, which both the Duchess of Sussex and her husband Prince Harry have always denied. After an unsuccessful phone call to discuss matters with his brother, William decided to 'throw Harry out', Robert Lacey revealed in his book, Battle of the Brothers. Lacey further quotes a Kensington Palace courtier as saying: "Meghan portrayed herself as the victim, but she was the bully. People felt run over by her. They thought she was a complete narcissist and sociopath — basically unhinged."

[simsjii]

he‘s back

there he was, standing infront of his freshly cleaned porsche with a little smile and some white peonies, adeline‘s favorites, in his hands. adeline could see that he was nervous and she was nervous too, even if she shouldn‘t, her man just left an hour ago for work. luckily adeline is always a little overdressed so he didn‘t question that it took hours for her to get ready today. z: hi princess adeline was melting as soon as zyran started to speak, but she tried to be strong, she didn‘t wanted to give in so easy. a: i‘m not your princess zyran, why the flowers? guilty conscience? z: just because… okay maybe i feel a little guilty a: as you should z: listen i‘m sorry, i know that‘s not enough, but really i am sorry i shouldn‘t left like this… a: yes it was an asshole move, but that‘s nothing new from you zyran was clearly hurt from that sentence, adeline could see it in his eyes and she started to feel bad? what is with this men? he could ruin her life over and over again and as soon as he says sorry adeline was getting soft. she walked closer to him and took the flowers. a: they are beautiful zyran thank you. z: always prince..adeline ouch, something inside her clearly still wanted him to call her princess even if she told him to stop. z: come, let‘s go we don‘t wanna be late, it‘s a big day for you! a: yeah you‘re right why was adeline‘s heart flattering as soon as he opens the car door for her, she loves princess treatment yes and with ethan it‘s the bare minimum for her but as soon as zyran is doing it her knees are getting weak. z: so.. how is your new guy? adeline almost choked, how does he know about ethan? a: how do you know? z: i‘m not telling you my tricks a: so you‘re stalking me? z: addie you‘re not a nobody, it was on the news of course he was stalking her but he would never admit it. a: oh.. it‘s good, he is good to me, you know he is not disappearing out of nowhere for a few months, i really like him and i think he really likes me. there was a little smile on zyrans lips. oh how adeline missed that smile, how she missed him, she started to study him, everything was still the same, he was still him and then she saw that he was still driving with one hand, normaly his other hand was on her thighs but today it was laying on his thigh. adeline couldn‘t help herself but the thought of his hand on her thigh while he was driving with one hand made her stomach do the thing. she tried to snap out of it. a: so why are you back? you wanna destroy my relationship again? z: i never destroyed a relationship from you a: yeah right you destroyed it before it could ever be one z: i‘m not here to destroy it, i mean i haven‘t killed him yet right? a: it wouldn‘t wonder me if you do again zyran was smiling. z: i promise i will not kill him okay! except you ask me for it a: never z: good then your old guy stays alive a: oh you have a problem with a his age? z: yes i do, i‘m not sure if he‘s good for you a: but you are? z: no i am not adeline didn't knew what to say and it seems like zyran was facing the same problem, for the rest of the drive they were sitting in silence, zyran still with his hand on his tigh but somehow it was no awkward silnce, it was a comfortable kind of silence between 2 persons that know each other like no one else does.

[riyangiis]

royalty, or loyalty?

han yujin, the prince soon to be king, falls in love with a commoner knowing it would get him in trouble. he needs to convince his father to let them stay together.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , han yujin x f!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 , angst, fluff, birthday special

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 , royalty!au, lowercase intended, established relationship, yujin has daddy issues, mentions of headaches, crying, overthinking, bad parenting, mentions of marriage, not proofread, lmk if I should add more!!

𝐰/𝐜 , 5.2k

[ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the characters in this fan fiction are not based on real people, everything in here is purely fictional. ]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 !

"han yujin, I warned you not to get closer to that peasant!?"

echoes of a deep voice shouting can be heard all around the large room with fancy designs. the sound of a disappointed father scolding his son. one that yujin is familiar with, but makes his ears want to bleed and go deaf.

"you're going to be the next ruler of this kingdom, yet you decide to be with that.. commoner?! you don't know if she's just with you for the gold, for the fame?!"

this peasant his father speaks of, the commoner. is so much more than that. she helped him on how to deal with his problems even though she had little to no experience, she was with him at his lowest when no one was, she was everything.

if anything, he's extremely glad that he met [name]. yujin was way beyond grateful. he was glad that he sneaked out to get fresh air in the river.

today was exhausting, yujin just got scolded by his father again for something he messed up. I guess you could say he's used to this. still, he feels down. the amount of times his father got disappointed at him, is he that bad? he was never that hard on his younger brother.

what did he do wrong to not get that exact treatment? was it because his father was more strict on him because he was the heir to the throne? sometimes he wished swapped places with his brother instead.

yujin looks at the window, the forest is beautiful. he never got to go and play like an actual child outside. he never got to see the beautiful scenery in front, not even see his own reflection in the river. everything was just lessons, events, "stay inside the castle for your safety". it was tiring.

he wonders, what if he actually went outside? he knows it's prohibited but it wouldn't hurt to try.. prince minjoo tried it multiple times and never got caught! what about the guards you ask? yujin knows his way around the castle, his home. he knows a few secret tunnels and how to not get caught by the tight security.

after a little while, finally escaping the castle and getting a taste of the fresh breeze and the calming atmosphere of the forest, his hands were a little sweaty worrying about how he would get caught and scolded by his father again.

yujin checks the most recent map the guards have of the forest, he checks the path needed to go through in order to arrive at the river. this is quite literally the first time he went in the forest. by himself. he explores around the forest to try the experiences he missed out on. why did they prevent him from going to the forest?

he finally made his way to the river. yujin starts to get a little cold by the cold breeze, but it's definitely refreshing. he sits down on the grass and puts his hand inside the water, it's cold. just as expected. yujin tries to take a look at his reflection in the mirror. wow, he forgot how attractive he is.

he then checks his surroundings to see if anyone is near him. he spots a girl that looks near his age, sitting not so far away from him. she hasn't seemed to notice him yet, instead just drifting off in her own world.

'is there someone staring at me?'

the girl then becomes alert and checks if there's anyone near her. she spots yujin staring at her, he gets shy and looks away immediately.

'oh, it's just him.'

she's relieved that it's not some creep. although, the boy looks familiar. but the girl never saw him around the town, not even once. she then starts thinking about where she has seen the boy before, then..

'wait, is that the crown prince?!"

she swiftly turns her head to see yujin putting his entire hand inside the water. others would think he's a weirdo, but it's sort of understandable since you barely see him go outside, just on special occasions.

'what's he doing here?'

you look at him again, confused, rubbing your eyes and continuously blinking to make sure you weren't hallucinating. yujin looks back to you and sees that you're staring at him, he blushes and gets shy all of a sudden. he never really interacted with people that much, especially commoners.

you're still looking at him. he figured that he should just suck it up and talk to you. he can't put on a bad impression in front of someone, even if he's literally sneaking out.

"uh, hi.. I'm yujin, what's your name?.."

now you feel like you're delusional, like it's a dream. the crown prince? making small talk with you? the atmosphere feels even more awkward than before, yujin feels embarrassed after you didn't reply to him.

"oh, my bad.. ehh, your majesty..? my name is [name]. you don't have to introduce yourself, everyone knows you.."

you feel even more embarrassed knowing that you just made a fool out of yourself in front of yujin. this is ridiculous, you feel like sinking in a volcano right now.. yujin feels even more shy after you said "your majesty" in front of him, it feels weird to have someone call you that when you're trying to just be a normal teen making small talk with another teen..

that's basically how the both of you met. shy, awkward teenagers just making small talk with each other at the forest.

his mother just stands there, knowing that she can't do anything else than defend her son. she glares at yujin, who is still staring at the ground and fidgeting with his hands. she looks back at her husband, who is clearly raging. same as yujin and her husband, she has a million thoughts in her mind.

'this man, this isn't the man I loved. what has happened to you?'

the silence is deafening. yujin is facing down on the floor, not wanting to look at his parents. to see a face full of anger and disappointment, and a face full of worry and shock. his vision is starting to get blurry with all the tears he's holding in.

the king turns back to yujin's direction, prepared to yell and scold him.

"answer me!-"

his father, also known as the king, scolds him once again as yujin fails to reply with all the thoughts running in his head. yujin's mother cuts him off.

"that's enough. give him time to think, just look at him!!"

it hurts. his head hurts. he can't think properly. yujin's breathing gets more intense as more tears keep on rushing, he tries his best to hold it back and not make it noticeable.

he knew this was risky, he knew he had to do so much for love, yet he did it anyways. times with you were the only times when he felt free, away from the problems and the burden he carried in his back as prince. when he felt truly appreciated, when he was able to show his true self.

ever since his father found out about how you and yujin have been secretly sneaking out to see each other, he had been matching yujin up with different girls from different kingdoms. his father tried so hard to convince him to just like one of them and he's fine. as long as the queen isn't.. inexperienced as he likes to call it.

even with all of them, none of them caught his attention. he just continued attending the meet-ups to avoid having an.. argument with his dad again.

he wonders, why is it illegal to live freely? why did life have to be this way? his train of thought come to a halt and flinches when he heard his father's voice.

"I might have to let your younger brother be king instead. I'll make sure he doesn't grow up like you."

yujin's entire body, even his mind froze. meanwhile, his mother stands there speechless. his vision starts to get even blurrier, he felt something wet in his face.

drip.

the tears are coming down.

drip.

you can clearly see that he's crying.

drip.

his mother glares at her husband angrily, he's no different from his mother. yujin's father scoffs carelessly, muttering a gentle 'weak'.

"alright you're dismissed."

yujin is quick to walk and exit the room. as soon as the door shuts, multiple shouts are heard inside. he rushes to his room and wipes his tears with his hand.

"wow, I feel bad for him. jiyoon, what do you think?"

minkyung, one of the young butlers in the castle, whispers to the young maids eavesdropping with him. jiyoon was one of the many girls who admired yujin.

"eh, it's not my business. both of us don't have anything between together for me to be mad. if anything I wish him the best? [name] seems to be a good person, I met her."

the butler and the other maid beside jiyoon stared at her as if she was crazy, she didn't really feel jealous?

"what? I'll find someone who'll truly like me? I need to focus on getting money for my family. now let's go before we get scolded by mr. lee!"

the trio then rushes to get their chores done.

yujin is still walking to his room, he wishes the castle wasn't that big and that his room wasn't so far. all he just wants to do is lay down and take a break from everything.

"prince? do you want anything?"

he stops and sighs, clearly tired. he looks over to his butler, mr. lee, with a sweet an reassuring smile as if nothing happened earlier. however, mr. lee knew him for far too long that he can see through his fake smiles and sweet lies, instead he just let him be.

"mr. lee, I'm fine. I just need time to myself. so take a break from your work, hm?"

yujin's eyes and nose are still red, he can't hide anything. mr. lee sighs.

"alright, just call me when you need me-"

yujin continues walking before mr. lee finishes his sentence. he walks faster, and faster, now he's out of mr. lee's sight.

'gosh, that boy. he's growing up faster than I thought.'

where has yujin been?

you were waiting patiently in your usual meeting spot, the abandoned park in the middle of the forest, near the river. this was rare. he never missed a hangout day, when he did he would tell you why. but he just.. didn't.

maybe yujin was having problems with his dad again and he prevented yujin from going outside, right? or maybe he's just late. really late. attending some really important event and he didn't have time to tell you.

whatever, you shake your head and let go of the thoughts of why yujin isn't here. you shouldn't stick your nose to other people's business. that's what your aunt told you, she's very wise. considering he's a prince, he has a lot of stuff to handle and many personal things.

you decided to wander around and do whatever you like. whether it would be singing, or dancing, or climbing trees.. just something to relieve your boredom. you suddenly think about how you don't deserve yujin as a commoner, that he would eventually leave you alone since he's the crown prince and no one would like a nobody with almost no knowledge on royal stuff as the queen.

stop it. just enjoy the time while it lasts. don't stick your nose. into other people's business. you lay down at the grass and drift off into a peaceful sleep.

yujin stares at the ceiling in his room while laying down on his bed. he wonders if he should sneak out and go to you, but it's extremely risky at this situation. his overthinking never stopped even if it's been a long time, he should just let go and have some real beauty sleep for a bit because gosh..

knock knock.

he hears a gentle knock at his door, is it mr. lee? did something important come up? yujin feels to lazy and tired to even stand up and open the door himself. should he answer it though? are his parents done fighting? is his dad gonna scold him again?

he gets up and sits on his bed. he slowly stands up and takes one step at a time. still unsure if he should open the door.

step.

he rethinks his decisions.

step.

"yujin, it's me.."

mother? what does she want? yujin walks up to his door and twists the doorknob. his mother walks to one of the couches in the bedroom, she signals yujin to sit with her.

"we.. need to talk."

what? does he have to really let go of name?

"I want to tell you a story, of me and your father."

yujin gets curious, his parents never really told stories of them. he wanted to know about how they met, was it arranged marriage? he wanted to know about their experiences throughout their relationship.

"your father was indeed a, stubborn person. as stubborn as you. and I was the witness of it all."

we usually saw each other in some events. then.. we stumbled across each other at a random spot. alone, just us. he tried to talk to me as an attempt to make friends, and because I was lonely.

luckily I wasn't the type to be hard to get, back in my days I was rather.. extremely kind. people didn't use that against me since I was the princess.. we talked for a while until our parents called us to go back downstairs. after that event we never saw each other again.

turns out, our parents were rivals. constantly trying to avoid each other so that once they interact, it wouldn't escalate to some conflict or maybe even war. sometimes we sneak out to see each other and talk for a little while, I realized that your father was my closest and one of my only friends. I then, fell in love.

his mother found out and got mad at him, she prevented him from exiting the kingdom and if he's required to go outside he usually has assistance. as for me, my parents were okay with it. they never had anything against your father. just his parents.

"go get him, we're not going to stop you. we're fine as long as we'll stop setting you up on dates with men that you'll probably never like."

so everything was going smoothly for me, the problem is your grandmother.. I can't do anything to contact him but every night, I prayed that he would be okay and we would meet once again.

after nights, and nights, and nights, our parents eventually came to the conclusion that their fighting was useless. ridiculous? and there you have it.

"our stories are similar to yours, I don't understand why he's going against you."

yujin seems to be shocked with the story of how his parents fell in love. his father was in the same position as him before, what's his deal? his mother gave him a bouquet full of baby's breaths.

"what's this for?"

yujin was confused, was this supposed to mean something? he didn't learn much about flower language after all.

"baby's breath means everlasting love, go ahead and give it to [name]."

"but how about the guards?"

"I already handled everything. they won't stop you, go on loverboy. I'll talk to your father about it again." yujin smiles.

"thank you, mothe- I mean mom."

it warms her heart whenever he calls her mom. it's a simple thing but it let's her know that yujin is comfortable around her and that he doesn't have to use such formal names. she smiles back at him.

but she knew about him sneaking out? and she even gave orders to the guards? whatever, he has no time to waste. he needs to go to you as fast as possible.

he's nearly running out of breath, so close. yujin couldn't care less if he trips over some rock in the way and get his ankle injured. he skipped the pathway to the abandoned park, he figures that you would've wandered off somewhere while waiting for him for a long time. but you wouldn't have went that far. you're not that stubborn anyways.

while running, he nearly steps on a body laying down on the ground. is that.. you? he kneels slowly, puts the bouquet down, and pokes you. oh, you're a deep sleeper. yujin continuously shakes you until you wake up. he then lowers his head to go near your ear to whisper something..

"the gods above has blessed you, you will now have unlimited food if you wake up.."

"I'M AWAKE!!"

yujin flinches when you gets up as fast as the speed of light. you look around for your surroundings for the unlimited food to see him.

"oh, it's you. hey I haven't seen you in a long time?"

you asked yujin while sitting down on the ground. sort of asking for the reason why he was so late for hangout day that he left you sleeping on literal grass for 2 hours waiting for him, no cover and stuff. but you had a very peaceful and refreshing slumber anyway.

"uh.. are you mad?"

yujin fidgets with his fingers staring at you worried, you're not that impatient and you don't have serious anger issues..

"mm no I'm not, you have a lot of duties as prince anyway. but you owe me a date with a whole all-you-can-eat buffet now.."

he sighs and rolls his eyes, either way he would accept your request so you couldn't care less about his complaining. you look at the bouquet of little white flowers, did he get this? or his mom?..

"is this for me?" yujin scoffs. "of course it is, who else would I give it to?" you think for a short while..

"uhm your mother?" you replied.

"why else would I be here then? don't be ridiculous, my mother has her own flowers anyway."

"oh.. right. agh, don't be so hard on me! I just woke up.." yujin chuckles.

you missed that smile of him, not the fake ones you see in events. the fake ones he's wearing just so he wouldn't make a fool and a bad impression of himself and his family. you missed seeing his genuine and bright smiles. the ones you would see often when you both talk about random drama happening in your life or what you heard from others, when you talked about random stuff, interests, just talking to you in general.

it was the entire reason you fell in love with him in the first place. before, you never understood the hype and why so many girls were falling in love with him. sure he's attractive, but you don't even bother admiring him knowing that you never even stood a chance. not until the both of you met each other near the river. you get all giddy just thinking about how everything started, how.. awkward it was. how special it is to you.

you take a glance at the bouquet with pretty little white flowers, wondering what the flowers mean. did yujin's mom tell him to give it to you?you knew that yujin's mother had an interest to plants and taking care of them is her hobby whenever she has nothing to do. she also learned about flower language because she had too much free time and she wanted to distract herself from the many problems that she had to handle as the queen.

you remember seeing a lot of interesting flowers and plants when yujin had a picnic date with you in the castle's secret garden that no one else but you, him, and his mom know. she was originally planning to grow more plants and take her husband on a date since both of them were too busy to even spend time with each other properly, mostly her husband.

yujin notices you spacing out while staring and the bouquet full of baby's breaths, he holds your cheek gently and turns your head to face his direction.

"did you miss me?"

he smirks knowing his effect on you, it grows even wider seeing your cheeks turn into a light shade of pink. you smile at him sweetly and peck his cheek gently.

"yeah, I did. I stayed here for so long waiting for you with nothing to do.."

yujin hugs your waist and lays his head in your shoulder, he seems to be really tired. in that case, you're exactly what he needs.

"I'm sorry, okay? something came up. it's father again, I'll make it up to you.."

you hug him back, arms wrapping around his waist as well and holding him like porcelain. your other hand goes up to play with his soft and fluffy hair.

"I see, you don't need to do anything. I'm already fine with you here."

yujin hugs you tighter, forget about his father. forget about ruling the kingdom. forget about everything. what matters is that you're here with him, safe and sound. he's fine with that. all of his problems fade away whenever he's with you. he just wants to enjoy this moment with you while it lasts.

"what happened to you.."

the atmosphere around the quite large bedroom with luxurious designs all scattered around the walls and the ceiling. yujin's mother sits on the king-sized bed with embroidered beddings trying to talk to his father and change his mind.

"enough."

yujin's father doesn't even bother turning to look at his wife. just facing the only window that isn't covered by the curtains, watching the kingdom in a high place. his wife stands up and walks rapidly to him.

"what do you mean enough?! you kept on scolding yujin that it almost happens daily, you even threatened to take the crown away from him? you're no different from your mother, juwon."

she was no longer afraid of facing juwon, she can't just watch yujin suffer anymore. juwon stopped looking outside the window and turned to his wife.

"yeona I said enough."

"NO!! you need to listen to me, yujin was just like you when you were young. why are you repeating your mother's actions? the difficulties you went through? the both of them are young anyways, we can train [name] if they're bound to be married to each other."

juwon tries to fight back, but hesitates. he clenches his fists and his teeth.

"we have so much to teach her, we don't even know if we have enough time. and our situation is different, you're already fit for queen. we don't even know if she's loyal?!"

how dare he make such accusations of you? he hasn't even met you personally? yeona rages with pure anger and furrows her eyebrows.

"how could you say that?! [name] was there for your own son when you weren't? and most of his problems are caused by you?? go ahead, take the throne away from our son! but don't take yujin's happiness away from him."

the room is filled with silence, juwon is unable to respond to yeona. upon seeing her teary eyes, he comes to realize that he was the reason yujin is suffering. that he failed his family.

she was right, he isn't any different from his mother. he remembers how disappointed his mother looked at him, how he tried so hard to convince her to let him be with yeona.

".. I'll think about it."

yeona is contented with his response. though it's not much, it's enough proof that juwon is considerate enough to think about his actions and listen to her words.

"fine.. I'll leave you alone to think."

yeona walks away and leaves the bedroom, leaving juwon to think about his decisions by himself. as soon as she closes the door, a young kid walks up to her upset and confused.

"mom, what happened with you and dad? why are you shouting?"

she is unable to respond to her son's question, yeona puts on a gentle smile and cover everything up with a white lie. he's a kid after all.

"nothing happened, we're just playing silly games. go play with mr. lee." the kid pouts and grips his teddy bear tightly.

"but I want to play with you!" yeona giggles and holds the kid's free hand.

"alright, alright. come with me then!"

"yujin, if we ever get married and become queen and king.. do you think I'll be a good queen?"

you ask a random question out of nowhere since the both of you had nothing to talk about. you two were in his bedroom, since the guards wouldn't stop him if he sneaked out he took advantage of this and brought you to the castle. he turns his head and stares at you as if you asked him the answer to 9 + 10.

"of course, me and my mother are there to assist you. they'll give you lessons too, the both of us are too young to become queen and king right away."

you still feel worried and insecure. his mother is fine, but will his father really approve of you? you don't deserve yujin at all. he's too good for you. he should've listened to his father when he told him to date some princess from another kingdom instead. at least she doesn't need lessons.

"but your dad, will he let us stay together? will we even get married?"

he furrows his eyebrows and frowns just by thinking about it. you look at him and felt anxious and guilty if you made him uncomfortable.

"sorry, nevermind. just forget that I even asked you that."

you and yujin hear a knock on the door, you quickly try to hide somewhere safe incase it's his father. you decided to hide under the bed, it's definitely common but the only place that isn't noticeable. yujin stands up to open the door and see who's behind it, he sees mr. lee.

"[name], come out."

you struggle as you attempt to leave your hiding spot, you sat on his incredibly soft bed. no wonder he's late to your hangouts sometimes.. yujin's let's mr. lee inside the room to hear his new announcement.

"what is it?" mr. lee sighs. "the king wants to see you in your parents' bedroom."

yujin turns his head to look at you, asking if it's okay to go without even saying a single word. you nod and give him a reassuring smile.

"alright then, I'll let you go to the room by yourself."

when he was about to exit his bedroom and close the door you got up from his bed and ran as fast as you can to the door to stop him.

"yujin can I.. go with you? I'll just be there behind the door, promise!!" he stares at you for a while and thinks if he should or he shouldn't.

"fine.. that way I don't have to explain everything that happened.. let's go."

yujin grabs your hand and drags you outside the room. he shuts the door then made his way to his parents' bedroom with his hand holding yours. because of this, he steals a few glances from the maids cleaning around the hallway.

the walk to the bedroom is a long way.. you stared at the walls in the hallway, it's full of portraits from different generations. the ceiling has different ornate chandeliers. oh, it seems that you both have finally reached his parents' bedroom. why is this castle so.. big? bigger than you thought it would be?

yujin let's go of your hand and uses his other one to grab the doorknob. he glances at you then twists the doorknob and enters the bedroom. you go closer to the wall to hear everything.

'yujin..' yeona stares at her son for a while, it seems that he had fun with his girlfriend. she turns her head and glances at juwon, hoping that he actually listened to her words and has made his choice wisely.

"oh, I might have forgotten to order mr. lee to ask you to bring your.. girlfriend." what the? why are you included in this.. family stuff? guess it's your signal to go inside.

you slowly open the door and finally see the king in person. up close. no wonder a lot of people had a crush on yujin.. including you.. the atmosphere feels awkward and tense until juwon started speaking.

"I.. made my decision. I have thought about this carefully."

yeona crosses her arms with a serious look, yujin felt his heart sink, you tried to predict the outcome of this situation. there's a high chance that it will turn out good, why else would you be here in the first place if he wanted to separate you two? or there's a chance that he's ruthless and wants to see you both suffer..

juwon takes a deep breath.. "I have decided to.. allow you to date her, yujin. it will take years until I let you take the throne, so we will do our best to assist both you and [name]. eh, you basically have no choice but to marry her since all those teachings will go to waste if otherwise."

yeona smiles widely, delighted that she was able to convince juwon and change his mind. the feeling of success and victory has never felt this.. euphoric. both you and yujin were left speechless, anyone can clearly see that you're over the moon. it's as if you won 5 million from the lottery. is this a dream?

you look over to yujin who's jaw is still wide open with his hands covering his mouth. his eyes start to get teary, he finally made it. juwon grins at the sight. he's never seen yujin this happy before. he truly made the right choice, guess you could say he's the king for a reason.

yeona walks up to her husband and pulls him in a warm embrace. "you truly made the right choice, juwon." his grin turns into a smirk as he chuckled.

"you married me for a reason, yeona. I'm not putting it to waste."

"and that's how we convinced your dad to let us be together.." you sighed, exhausted from the extremely long story. juwon tried to cover up his embarrassment with a smile, he was really stubborn like yeona said..

yujin's younger brother, yunseo, finally knew the story behind everything. you figured that since he was already in highschool, it would be the right time to explain everything. it had been 2 years since that happened. you feel arms wrapping around your waist, that familiar sense of warmth..

you turn around to see yujin smirking, "did you tell him already? everything?" you nod and kiss his cheek. yeona sighs upon seeing the sight of you and yujin, meanwhile yunseo cringes.

"ew, go get a room!" yunseo covers his eyes. yeona whispers to juwon.

"they're just like us when we were younger. yujin is just as stubborn and deeply in love like you!"

"how dare you, I wasn't that in love!" juwon gasped sarcastically, yeona giggles. ah, just like the old times.

"get a room, love birds!"

all this in 3 days... with practice and exams... 😔😔

[sara-scribbles]

The Prince's Tutor

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Leona Kingscholar/GN!Reader Summary: You're hired as Cheka's personal tutor. While working, you get to know the second prince, Leona. Notes: Just something I've had partially written and wanted to finish. I guess this would be in line with my royalty AU I did with Malleus. This also exhausts the list of actually royal characters from the game (does Idia count?). Might have some errors here and there that I missed, sorry in advance! Hope you enjoy all of Cheka's cuteness! Word Count: 9,064 Warnings: Attempted kidnapping, violence, some swearing, Cheka being adorable

As much as Leona wants to ignore his nephew, he can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that a stranger is leading Cheka out of the palace. The naive brat follows without thought as he excitedly chatters. A person he’s never seen before, leads the kid by the hand while nodding enthusiastically.

“Hey!” His voice echoes in the hallways.

Cheka looks around before a smile stretches across his face. “Unca Leona!” The cub lets go of the stranger’s hand to launch himself at Leona.

Grunting as the pint sized twerp barrels into him, he pulls him off immediately by holding him by the back of his shirt and unceremoniously dropping him on the ground. “Where do you think you're goin’, brat?”

“Teacher (Y/N) is taking me to the detached wing for lessons!” The boy isn’t bothered by the rough treatment as he springs back onto his feet.

You offer Leona a tentative smile, which he does not return. “Teacher? You’re the new brat’s tutor?” He sizes you up and isn’t impressed. You're a herbivore for one thing.

Nodding, you bow politely. “Yes. I was recommended by Cheka’s old tutor.”

Though you have no reason to lie, Leona isn’t completely convinced. You look green with the enthusiastic glimmer in your eyes. However, he decides to let it be. It isn’t in his nature to pursue further than needed. As long as it doesn’t seem that you’ll be kidnapping the furball, Leona’s fine. 

Waving you off, he turns around to head to his room. “Ya whatever you say.”

---

“Who was that?” you ask Cheka.

“That’s unca Leona! He’s the bestest unca!” the boy explains. His eyes sparkle with joy, and you can’t help but smile back.

You had heard of the royal family, though you hadn’t had much time to study the lineage before arriving. Seeing the beastman glare at you was a first. Cheka’s father was very welcoming and open when you met him briefly. You chalk it up as everyone having their own personalities and quickly forget the encounter. No use worrying about things that are none of your business.

Arriving at the detached wing of the palace, you enter the large library. Once you have Cheka settled, you start on the first lesson. “We’ll be learning about the history of magic. Let’s start with how magic first came to be…”

---

Later in the day, Leona happens upon you again. This time, you’re talking with his brother, or at least trying to. Farena’s too distracted with Cheka to really pay you any mind, and the expression on your face shows your growing irritation.

Leona tries to slink away without being noticed, but the fuzzball immediately catches him. It’s like his nephew can sense him from miles away. “Unca Leona!”

Hopping down from his father’s hold, Cheka runs up to him and wraps his short arms around his leg. “Let go,” Leona grunts through gritted teeth.

Cheka beams up at him as he clings on. “Today I learned about the history of magic! Did you know that magic existed a long, long time ago?!”

Rubbing his temples, he sighs, “Yes. Now, get off, brat.”

“Leona!” Farena comes over and claps him heartily on the back. “Have you met, (Y/N)?”

You give him another polite smile though he sees the way the corner of your mouth twitches downward. You’re gripping a stack of papers tight enough to wrinkle them. 

He scoffs and shrugs off his brother’s hold. “Yes. Tell your son to let go of my leg.”

Farena chuckles. “He just misses his uncle!”

Coughing, you interject. “Your highness I-”

“Please call me Farena. I insist!” he interrupts, giving you a blinding smile.

Lips pressing into a thin line, you look put out. “Your highness, I do need to go over the rest of the curriculum with you. I’d like to know if you think these will be suitable for your son.”

Waving you off, his brother takes the stack of papers you hold out. “Alright, alright. I’ll look at these later tonight and let you know tomorrow.”

Sighing, you bow. “Thank you, your highness. If you’ll excuse me, I still have to finish settling in.” You give them both one last bow before making a hasty retreat.

Scratching his ear, Leona watches as you disappear. “Where’d you find this one?” he asks, a bit interested as you don’t seem dazzled by his brother like everyone else. He wonders how long that will last.

“(Y/N) comes from the Queendom of Roses. And came with high praise from many teachers and scholars.” Farena glances down at the documents. “It seems they are very meticulous.”

During the conversation, Cheka had released Leona’s leg. Climbing onto his father’s back, the boy hangs there while peeping at the documents. “What does that say, papa?”

Farena chortles, “It says a lot of work for papa tonight. I’ll see you later, brother!” Leona is finally left in peace. There’s not much to do, though. It’s not like anyone expects anything of him.

He decides to find a place to nap. Like always.

---

A few days pass since that encounter, when Leona bumps into you again. Quite literally this time.

Papers fly in the air like snow. “Aaach!” You fall back on your butt with a thump before giving him a withering look. 

Leona stands there above you as the papers fall to the ground. He didn’t even move back an inch when you bumped into him. “Ya goin’ somewhere, herbivore?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. Guess non-beastmen are all weak if a little bump sends you tumbling to the ground.

“...” You don’t bother to respond as you gather your scattered documents. 

Picking up one that landed on his foot, Leona quickly scans it. “Is this the brat’s curriculum?”

“Yes. I made some edits since your brother thought the last one was too much for Cheka,” you reply. He catches the frown that quickly fades into a neutral expression.

From the looks of the one sheet, you plan to teach Cheka basic magic and runes. Something most kids his age would not be learning until a few years later. “He might be right.” Knowing Cheka, the little furball will quickly lose interest.

Huffing, you snatch the paper out of his hand. “I believe he can do it. He showed great interest in the history of magic and learning fundamentals during our first session. He just needs to be engaged.”

“And how do ya plan to engage a six year old?” The boy has too much energy for Leona’s taste. Even Cheka’s old tutor had a hard time keeping him on track. He liked to ask too many questions that would quickly spiral out of control.

For the first time that day, you grin. “I have my ways, your highness.”

His ears twitch. “Hmm… Have fun with the twerp.” He walks past you without another glance.

---

“Now I want you to visualize the broccoli,” you tell Cheka. The young boy stares at the plate with the single broccoli you placed in front of him. “They look like small trees, don’t they?”

Cheka nods. “Yeah! They’re like small green trees!”

“Right! So imagine reaching forward and plucking this small tree from the plate.” You watch as the boy’s brows furrow deeply. His golden gaze is focused on the broccoli. Finally, he slumps forward.

“Nothing happened…” he pouts.

Ruffling his hair, you gently encourage him, “Don’t worry, Cheka. These things take time. You’ll get it soon!”

Though he smiles back at you, you notice it isn’t as bright. “Alright. Let’s do something else.” Clapping your hands together, you rummage through the trunk of things you had brought from home. “We’re going to do a reenactment of a myth”

“Reenactment?” Cheka pops the broccoli in his mouth without you noticing.

You hand over a few props. “It means we’ll be putting on a play pretending to be the characters of the story.”

“Papa and I play pretend all the time!” Excitement shines in his eyes as he takes the offered clothes.

Beaming, you put on a hat. “Then you’ll be a pro at this!”

Unbeknownst to you, a certain lion is sitting further in the back of the library on a windowsill. He chuckles as he listens to you start the story.

---

“So you like chess?” Your voice interrupts his thought process. A little annoyed to be disturbed, he gives you a glare but it doesn’t phase you.

“And so what if I do?” He should have played in his room in peace. But it’s being cleaned at the moment, so he had to find a different place away from others. Hence being in the library you use for Cheka’s lessons.

Shrugging, you tap the queen. “I learned a bit but never could actually grasp the game. It takes a lot of skill and foresight to be good. I don’t know much but looking at the board, I’m assuming you're a pro. That’s amazing.”

A compliment is not something he expected to hear from you. Nor is it something he’s heard in a long time. “The thing about chess is that you can play it alone. You don’t need anyone else,” he mutters.

Moving away, you bow. “Sorry to disturb you, your highness.” 

You turn to leave, but he stops you. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t like a match…”

Your eyes widen a fraction as he notes a small smile form on your face. “I don’t think I’ll be much of a challenge.”

He shrugs and gestures to the chair opposite. You sit down as he places the pieces back to their starting positions. “Take it as a chance to learn from a master.”

“A very humble master,” you tease before focusing on the board.

And true to your word, you aren’t much of a challenge. He manages to beat you in five moves. Despite losing so quickly you ask for another game. Occasionally you ask about certain pieces as your memory of the game is hazy. Despite beating you multiple times, Leona finds it entertaining. You don’t get discouraged even after losing every time. And you don’t lose as quickly each time.

Leaning back, you let out a sigh, “I think I’m all chessed out.”

He tips the queen on the board back and forth. “You’re not bad. You learn quickly. With some practice, you could get better.”

“Maybe even good enough to beat you?” you ask.

Smirking, he flicks the queen on its side. It rolls across the board to you. “Not even in your dreams, herbivore.”

You let out a laugh that lights up your face. For once you don’t have the stern teacher facade he’s seen you wear most times. Only with Cheka do you look like you’re enjoying yourself. He still remembers the sound of your voice as it fell and rose while you pretended to be different characters. You're much more animated when you’re relaxed and let your guard down.

---

Leona wishes he could be anywhere but here. Farena’s wife had foisted Cheka onto him just as he was going out. She knew he couldn’t say no, and so today he’s on babysitting duties. Where’s the brat’s nanny?

“Unca Leona! Look!” Cheka points to a small pastry stall. Rows upon rows of sweets and confections are on display. From the looks of it, the seller is not from around the area. The young cub eagerly runs over while Leona follows at a leisurely stroll.

Cheka presses his face against the glass case. “Can I have one, huh??”

“Yeah, whatever.” It’s not his fault if the kid eats sweets before dinner.

As the young boy eagerly points to a chocolate covered treat, the stall owner rings him up. “That will be 500 thaumarks.”

Leona stares at him blankly as Cheka is already eating the treat. “I don’t have money. Just bill it to the royal account.”

The stall owner nervously looks between him and his nephew. “I-I’m sorry, sir?” The confusion is written all over his face. Leona feels his irritation grow.

“I don’t carry money on me. Just go to the palace and ask to be paid. They’ll know what to do.” He starts to turn away, but the stall owner is still persistent.

“P-please wait a s-second!” This is why he doesn’t deal with non-locals, they don’t know the rules.

“Unca Leona, are we going to jail?” Cheka asks, golden eyes wide.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Leona almost snaps at the stall owner when a familiar voice calls to them. “Leona? Cheka?”

You’re carrying an armful of groceries as you near them. Dressed in more casual clothes, he almost doesn’t recognize you. Cheka grins as he bounds over. He wraps his arms around your waist, nearly making you lose your balance.

“(Y/N)! What are you doing here?” You set down the bags to give him a proper hug.

“I was doing some grocery shopping. What about you?” Your brows draw together as you chuckle. “You have chocolate all over your mouth, Cheka.”

The boy furiously rubs his mouth with the back of his hand. “Unca Leona and I are spending the day together! But since he doesn’t carry money, we’re going to jail.” He nods solemnly.

You tilt your head to the side as you give Leona a questioning look. “We ain’t goin’ to jail, brat!”

“I would hope not. You’re too cute for jail, Cheka,” you joke. Pulling out your wallet, you glance at the stall owner. “I can pay.”

“Yaya!” Cheka cheers as he jumps in the air. 

You hand over the money. Picking your groceries back up, you ruffle his hair. “My treat. I’m done for the day, so I’ll be heading back.”

Before Leona can say anything, Cheka follows after you as he calls over his shoulder, “Let’s go, Unca Leona!”

Muttering under his breath about being bossed around, Leona reluctantly follows. As Cheka runs ahead, you glance at the lion with an amused smile. “So, the great prince Leona was about to go to jail?”

Snorting, he crosses his arms over his chest. “As if. I’ve never had issues with paying. Everyone knows to bill it to the royal account. Apparently you out of towners know nothing.”

“Royal account? It must be nice to not worry about having to carry money.” Shaking your head, you can’t imagine the life he lives. “Maybe just carry a bit around just in case something like this happens again. I won’t always be there to bail you out.”

“As if I need you to.” He rolls his eyes before grabbing one of your bags.

“Hey!”

“You’re only holding us up by carryin’ all those,” he scoffs.

He can feel your stare but resolutely looks forward. “Thank you,” you mumble as you catch up to his long strides.

---

Most people in the palace know not to linger or rest in certain places. Those spots are reserved for a certain lazy lion. So, when Leona arrives at one of his napping spots under the acacia, he’s not pleased to see a figure resting there.

He’s about to kick the intruder out when he realizes it’s you. A book rests face down on your chest. You snooze with your mouth slightly ajar. It’s a funny sight.

His annoyance fades slightly. Too tired to go to another spot, Leona plops down next to you. There’s plenty of space for him. He’ll let the transgression go this time.

Sometime later when he wakes up, you’ve somehow moved so that your head rests against his shoulder. You’re drooling on his shirt sleeve. Clicking his tongue, he pushes you none too gently causing you to fall over and wake up.

“Huh?!” Sitting up, you rub the sleep from your eyes. “L-Leona?”

He sneers at his wet sleeve. “Ya drool like waterfall, herbivore.”

Picking up your book, you apologize, “Sorry… I can pay for it to be cleaned?” you offer, trying to wipe the leftover drool away.

“Tch. Maybe next time you sleep with your mouth closed.” Standing, he stretches and yawns. “Later, herbivore.”

Watching as he leaves, you wonder when he arrived.

---

“Cheka has improved exponentially. I think he’ll be ready for more challenging material in a year or so,” you inform Farena. Giving him Cheka’s mid-year report, you hand him a thick packet with your notes and observations.

Farena browses through the notes. “I’m glad to hear Cheka’s doing so well! He’s such a bright boy, but sometimes has a difficult time staying focused. I can tell you’re doing great work, (Y/N)!”

You bow your head. “Thank you, your highness.”

The door to Farena’s office opens and Cheka pokes his head in. “Papa!”

“Cheka!” The man beams as the young boy runs over to him. He hops into his lap as Farena hugs him. “What brings you here?”

“Unca Leona said I should stop bothering him and come find you,” the boy explains.

Ferna chuckles as he turns to you. “Are we done here?”

You do have a few more things you want to go over, but decide you can save it for another time. “I’m all set. You can keep the report. There's a plan for the next six months you can review and let me know what you think, your highness.”

Giving the prince one last bow, you leave his office. Shutting the door, you head back to your guest residence. Much like the rest of the palace, the guest quarters are just as lavish. There’s a fully functional kitchen, which you have stocked with food. You could have the royal chefs cook for you, but prefer making your own meals.

As you put together dinner, your thoughts wander to a certain second prince. Leona is an interesting character to say the least. He’s the opposite of his warm and friendly brother. Oftentimes you spot him napping in various places. It doesn’t seem like he has any duties and spends his days doing whatever he pleases.

You’ve heard the whispers of the staff. 

He’s the second born, so there are no expectations for him. 

He’s rude, prideful, and arrogant.

He’ll use underhand tricks to get what he wants.

His unique magic is terrifying.

He's good for nothing.

Even gossip has a grain of truth. Yet, you try not to cast judgment on him beyond what you’ve learned from your interactions. Leona is rude, prideful, and arrogant. But he’s also cunning and a brilliant strategist. Though he shows a strong distaste for his nephew, he does watch out for him in his own way. He seems to have a softer side, though he’d probably kill you if you ever said it to his face.

You don’t realize you’re smiling as you think about him.

---

“Unca Leona, can you show me your unique magic?” Cheka asks, his eyes sparkle with curiosity.

Somehow the brat had found him while he was snoozing. He had made sure to hide away from prying eyes as much as possible. Yet, no hiding place is safe from Cheka.

Not even bothering to open his eyes, he tries to shoo him away. “No. Leave me alone.”

Cheka persists. “Please! (Y/N) said everyone has a unique magic and I wanna see yours. Pleeeeeeaaaassssseeeeee!”

Leona sighs, exasperated. “Listen, brat, my unique magic isn’t for fun and games. People can get hurt, and I would rather not get yelled at by your mom.”

The young boy droops. “Okay…”

Rubbing his face, Leona stands up. There’s no napping now. “Where’s your tutor?”

He perks up. “(Y/N) is at the guest house. They said I can always visit whenever I want. Do you wanna visit them too, Unca Leona?”

Leona is already heading in the direction of the guest house. “Yeah, somethin’ like that,” he mutters. Cheka scampers after him eagerly.

Arriving at the guest house, the door is open so he lets himself in. “Oi! Herbivore, you home?”

There’s the sound of crashing and the two follow the noise. In the kitchen, you're picking up a fallen pot. “Leona?” You eye him quizzically as Cheka immediately runs over to you.

“We wanted to visit!” the boy exclaims. He stands on his tiptoes as he eyes the freshly made chocolate chip cookies set on the table.

You hand him one. “What do I owe for this surprise visit?”

“The kid wants to see some unique magic, so I thought since you’re his tutor, you’d be able to show him,” he explains, shaking his head.

You absently hand Cheka another cookie as he makes grabby hands at you. “I guess I could show him. My unique magic is basically useless for combat so it should be safe.”

Turning to the boy, you bite your lip. He has chocolate all over his face. “Come on, Cheka. I’ll show you my unique magic.”

“Yay!” He grabs your hand as you lead him outside. Leona follows quietly behind.

Standing outside, you close your eyes. “Let the green touch the lands wherever I go. Grow! Flourish! Nature’s blessing.”

Suddenly all around you, grass springs up. Wild flowers grow and bloom. Leona watches as a sprout grows taller and taller. It flourishes into a sturdy tree with dark green leaves that shade you from the sun.

“Woah! That’s amazing!” Cheka runs over to the tree to touch the trunk. “It’s real?!”

Bending over with hands on your knees, you catch your breath. “Yup, everything made with my unique magic are real plants. It’s about a ten foot radius all around.” You smile weakly.

Leona reaches up to pluck off a leaf. “To be able to create life from nothin’ is a feat.” He turns to you, green eyes gleaming. “And here I thought you weren’t that impressive, herbivore.”

“Well it’s not like any of this is useful. I can’t grow fruit or anything edible. The plants only last as long as they naturally can in whatever environment it’s currently in.” You plop down in the grass with a sigh. “It uses too much magic, so I’m usually tired afterwards. I guess it could be a neat party trick…”

Cheka is too busy climbing the tree to notice your exhaustion. Leona lays down in the grass. “At least it’s the type of unique magic people aren’t afraid of. This makes an ideal napping spot.”

Peering at him, you notice the way he seems off in thought staring up at the canopy of leaves. “Just because your unique magic might be dangerous, doesn’t mean you are,” you point out.

He snorts. “Most people don’t think that way. They’re all too blinded by their fear.” Closing his eyes, he can hear Cheka chattering to himself while climbing back down.

The young boy comes over and flops down next to Leona. “This is so cool!” He points at a spot on one of the branches. “Look! Even the birds are coming to rest.”

Chuckling, you lay down as well. You're still tired from using your unique magic. “Sometimes it’s nice to just lay in the shade of a tree.”

Leona agrees with a non-committal hum. Cheka worms his way between you two. The three of you rest in the shade of the tree.

Suddenly Cheka asks, “Do you have someone back home (Y/N)?”

“Um, no. Why do you ask?” You’re a bit afraid to hear his answer.

Cheka sits up as he looks at you then Leona. “Then you can marry unca Leona! That way, you can stay here forever, and unca Leona won’t be so grumpy!”

“Hey, brat, sometimes it’s better to keep ya mouth shut!” Leona snaps, sitting up as well. His teeth are clenched and he refuses to look in your direction.

The boy doesn’t seem too bothered by his uncle’s words. “But papa said if people like each other, they should get married. You like (Y/N), don’t you?”

“That’s…that’s none of your business!” he growls. Scowling fiercely, he lays back down and turns on his side away from Cheka. “Don’t bother me,” he grunts.

“Did I say something wrong?” Cheka asks in a loud whisper.

Biting your lip, you try not to laugh. “Just let him rest.”

Flopping back down, Cheka sighs, “I still think you and unca Leona should get married,” he says honestly.

You remain silent as you mull over his words.

---

A week before Cheka’s birthday, the palace is abuzz. Many people run around with decorations throughout the week. Farena is busy organizing the party and has invitations sent out to just about everyone. You received a handmade invitation from Cheka to attend his party during one of your lessons.

As his birthday draws closer, the young boy can’t seem to sit still for his lessons. You decide to switch tactics. Instead of lessons in the library, the two of you spend time around the palace gardens. Practical magic application requires more open space, and it gives you an excuse to let Cheka run around a bit.

“Did you see that?!” Cheka jumps around wildly as his attempt to move some pebbles with wind magic finally succeeds. They only roll a bit but it’s enough to excite him.

You clap enthusiastically. “Wonderful job, Cheka!” He tilts his head closer so you can pat him. He smiles triumphantly as you ruffle his hair. “I can tell you’ve been practicing your concentration. You’re progressing nicely,” you praise.

Picking up the pebbles, you place them back in a pouch. You gesture to Cheka to sit down on a nearby bench. Rummaging through the bag you always carry, you pull out a wrapped box. Handing it to him, you watch as his eyes light up.

“Is this my birthday gift?!” He’s ready to tear into it.

Nodding, you chuckle at his barely restrained excitement. “Yes. I thought you could open my gift early.” In reality, you don’t want Cheka to make a big fuss over your gift at his party. He most likely would receive far better gifts from the many guests.

He eagerly rips the wrapping paper away. Pulling off the box top, he pulls out a small snow globe. Rather than depicting snow, it’s filled with grass and miniature flowers. There’s even a miniature tree like the one that grew when you used your unique magic. The flowers and tree grow before disappearing in a puff of green sparkle and then regrow again.

“Woah!” He holds it close to his face.

“I infused a bit of my unique magic in some runes. I thought a small plant world would make a fun snow globe,” you explain. It took you many trials and long nights to complete the gift. Infusing runes with your magic took precise control and a lot of patience. It sounded easy in theory, but you had learned how difficult it actually was.

“This is so cool!” He carefully set the globe back in the box before wrapping his short arms around you. “Thank you!”

Squeezing him tight, you smile brightly. Pulling away, you pat his head. “Alright, lessons are over for today. I’ll let you enjoy some time off before your birthday.”

Jumping up, he holds the box with your gift closer to his chest. “I wanna show papa my gift!” He’s off like a bolt of light.

Shaking your head, you pick up the rest of your things before heading to the guest house. You hadn’t planned to give Cheka something, but you also couldn’t resist the urge to make him smile. His joy is infectious. As much as you promised not to get too personal with Cheka, he had wormed his way into your heart.

---

You try your best to avoid bumping into people as you weave your way through the party. There are so many guests, and they’re all in merry moods. Cheka’s birthday celebration is nothing like you’ve ever been to. There’s so much food and drink, it seems to overflow. Music and dancers entertain the guests. 

Beatmen, fae, humans and other magical creatures mingle and laugh. It was fun at first, but now you’re feeling tired. The excitement has become a bit too much for you. Sneaking out of the party, you manage to wander into the garden. The music and cheering is muffled, and the air feels nice on your heated skin.

Sitting down on one of the benches, you let out a relieved breath. “Too much excitement for ya, herbivore?”

Leona’s voice makes you jump up. You spy a set of bright emerald eyes staring at you. Sprawled out on the grass and mostly hidden by the bushes, he’s very hard to spot. Your heart still beats rapidly as you sink back down.

“Don’t do that…” You sigh. “I just needed a break from all that. It’s a lot to take in. Are parties usually this extravagant?”

He tilts his head before slinking over to you. “Usually. Farena likes to go all out when it comes to birthday parties.” He pushes you to the edge of the bench, so he can sit down. “It’s annoying but harmless.”

“So, what did you get Cheka?” you ask, curious since you didn’t see him give a gift during the present opening.

“A mechanical meerkat,” he answers. He shrugs when you give him a confused look. “Some toy inventor was trying to sell it a few weeks ago. No one was buyin’ it, but I thought the brat would like it. According to the inventor, it can lead you home if you tell it to.”

Peering at him, he doesn’t meet your probing gaze. “That actually sounds useful. You’re a good uncle, Leona.”

He grumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear. However, the way his ears twitch, you wonder if he’s just a little happy at the compliment. “Stop lookin’ so smug, herbivore,” he growls.

Grinning, you stand up. “Despite all your complaining, you care about him.” He scoffs but doesn’t deny your claim. “Come on, we should head back.” Offering him your hand, you meet his intense gaze with a fond look of your own.

Leona takes your hand, and you lead him out of the garden. Down the darkened halls of the castle, you two slowly walk back to the party while talking in low voices. You’re not in any hurry to return to the celebration.

---

There’s a night bazaar happening and Cheka is determined to go. You can only stand in Farena’s office and watch as the young boy begs his father to take him. Your paperwork was forgotten the moment Cheka had run into the office during your meeting.

“Please, papa! I really wanna go tonight! You promised last year that you’d take me!” he begs, his eyes wide and filled with pleading. The mechanical meerkat that Leona had gifted him skitters from the boy’s pocket to his head.

Farena sighs, shoulders slumping forward. “I’m sorry, Cheka. I really can’t. Papa has some very important meetings he needs to attend. I can’t push them off.” The unspoken ‘again’ hangs in the air.

Cheka’s large golden eyes fill with tears. “Bu-but…” His lower lip wobbles dangerously.

With a panicked look in his eyes, Farena meets your gaze. He stares at you for a moment longer before a smile stretches across his face. “I’m sure (Y/N) can take you though!”

“W-what?” Baffled, you can only open and close your mouth.

Cheka sniffles as he wipes his face before looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Really?”

You resist the urge to say what you’re really feeling by biting the inside of your cheek. “Of course! You’re not busy, are you?” Farena asks, his eyes pleading much like how his son was just moments before.

“I-I mean I had plans…” In reality, you were just going to finish grading Cheka’s last test and finish reviewing your future lessons. Very exciting things!

Having the king of all people look at you with what can only be called puppy eyes is a very startling turn of events. “Leona can go with you too,” he adds with a grin

“Unca Leona!” Cheka cheers, all sadness gone without a trace.

Farena gives Cheka a big squeeze before letting the boy rush off to find his uncle. “I’ll see you at the front door!” he calls before the door closes with a click. 

You meet his gaze, his eyes the same warm golden shade as his son’s. “I take it I don’t have much choice on this matter?”

The man shakes his head. “Of course you have a choice. I can’t force you to go.” He drums his fingers on his desk as he regards you with sharp eyes. “But Cheka’s so fond of you, I thought some more time together would be nice. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. Cheka’s a big boy, he’ll understand.”

Eyes narrowing, the easy smile on his face doesn’t seem so friendly. “As you wish, your highness.” You give a stiff bow before leaving his office.

You can hear Cheka’s voice drifting through the halls as you walk away. Shaking your head at your encounter with the king, you meet him at the front. Cheka is bouncing around excitedly while Leona scowls, his dark hair a mess. The meerkat hangs on his shoulders; it’s become his constant companion.

“I need to drop some things off at the guest house,” you tell them. Leona’s scowl seems to soften a bit when you come closer.

“Okay! Then the bazaar!” The boy grabs your hand. You can only give Leona a helpless smile as you're dragged along.

After putting away your things and grabbing some money, the three of you walk to the bazaar. It’s filled with people wandering about as they enjoy the food, entertainment, and festive atmosphere. Cheka tugs you to each and every stall.

He chatters non stop at everything he sees, pointing with wide eyes at the decorations. You listen to his enthusiastic ramblings while Leona follows a few paces behind. Eventually you stop at a stall to buy a few treats. Cheka is chowing down on a chocolate pastry from the same seller as last time.

“So, it looked like Cheka had just woken you up from a nap,” you comment.

Leona rubs his eyes. “The brat seems to have a knack for finding me regardless of how well I hide.” He shakes his head as Cheka starts eating another sweet. “How’d my brother rope you into this?”

Looking around, you notice a puppet show being set up. A group of children are already gathered in front of the makeshift stage. “Let’s just say your brother is very…persuasive when he wants to be.”

Snorting, you glance at Leona, who rolls his eyes dramatically. “He knows how to get his way.”

Nudging his arm with your elbow, you give him a teasing grin. “I’d say the same for you. The two of you go about it in different ways, but the end result is the same.”

There’s a sharpness to his smile. “I can show how persuasive I can be, herbivore. And I promise I’m better than my brother.” His emerald greens seem to darken as he holds your gaze.

Feeling heat prickle up your neck, you turn away. “Cheka! Do you want to watch the puppet show?” As you usher the young boy over to the show, you can hear Leona’s low chuckle, sending shivers down your back.

The puppet show starts after a few minutes. The story is rather morbid for a children’s play. The story revolves around a young man and his uncle turned stepfather, who may have poisoned his brother to become king. You become so engrossed in the play that you don’t notice Cheka slipping away.

There’s a particular moment in the play that causes you to turn to Cheka. “Did you see tha-” Your eyes land on an empty seat before frantically scanning around. Standing up, you urgently run over to Leona, who had opted to rest a bit away on a bench.

“Did you see Cheka?!” The fear in your voice is palpable.

He quickly sits up, eyes focused. “No. He couldn’t have gotten far.” Taking your hand, the two of you rush through the bazaar calling his name.

“Cheka? Cheka?! Cheka!” You split off from Leona hoping to cover more ground. As you rush by stalls and the throngs of people, you can only think of finding him.

Something shiny catches your eye near the edge of the bazaar. Rushing over, you realize it’s the mechanical meerkat that Cheka always carries. Though a bit dusty, the toy is perfectly fine. It immediately curls up in your hand as you pocket the toy. Moving away from the bright lights of the festival, you make your way through the dim streets and alleys in the general direction of where you found the meerkat.

You hear a loud sound coming from one of the alleys and carefully make your way over. Peering into the narrow passage, you can make out two figures struggling with a small figure. As the clouds suddenly part and moonlight fills the dark alley, your eyes widen. The two figures are struggling with a terrified Cheka.

“Let him go!” You rush at them as magic builds at your fingertips. However, Cheka cries out as a sharp pain radiates from the back of your head. Your vision blurs as you feel your body pitch forward. Everything goes black.

---

Waking up with a throbbing headache, you find yourself laying on your side. The grimy, cold floor rubs against your cheek as you struggle to sit up. Your hands are bound behind your back with rope as well as your legs. The world spins as you manage to sit up and take in your surroundings.

There’s not much except some planks of wood leaning against a wall, empty buckets stacked in a corner and a boarded up window. The air is stale and the only light comes from a door slightly ajar. You can hear muffled voices arguing.

“(Y/N)?” a tiny voice calls to you. Blinking as your eyes adjust, you realize Cheka is tied up as well. He sits with his back against a wall. His shirt hangs limply off of him and his face is smudged with dirt. 

“Cheka, are you okay?” you ask in a low voice.

He nods, tears threaten to spill. “When those men hit you, I thought…I thought you wer-” his voice breaks into a muffled sob.

“It’s okay, Cheka. Shhh, shhh.” You keep your voice down as you try to sooth him. “I’m okay. You’re okay. And we’re getting out of here.”

Sniffling, he tries his best to calm down. “H-how?”

“Give me a second to think.” There’s not much you can use in the room. If you try breaking down the boards on the window, it might draw too much attention. The only other way out is straight through where the voices are coming from.

Testing the bindings on your wrist, they don’t budge. Drawing on your magic, you summon a small fire. As they burn through the rope, you try your best to ignore the pain as the flame licks your skin. Once the rope is burned enough for you to easily break them, you do the same for the binds on your legs.

“Cheka, how many men are there?” you ask, tossing aside the burnt rope.

“Th-three I think. They’ve been fighting for a while. I-I think I’ve seen one of them before.” Once free to move, you crawl over to Cheka and start working on his ropes.

“This will hurt, but you can’t make a sound. Okay?” Peering at his tired eyes, he nods slowly. You try your best to burn the rope without hurting him, but you notice the way he slightly jerks away before biting down on his lip.

“Almost there. You’re doing an amazing job,” you praise. Tears fall, but he remains quiet. You tug at the ropes and they easily break. Making quick work of the rest of the bindings, you sit on your haunches. 

Contemplating your next move, you decide to get going. There isn’t much you can do, but you need to get out. Meeting Cheka’s gaze, you tell him, “I’m going to carry you. Hold as tight as you can and don’t let go. Whatever happens, don’t look. Okay?”

“Okay.” He scrambles to your side and loops his arms around your neck. Standing up, you nearly fall back down as the world spins and your head pounds. Using the wall to right yourself, you push through the bout of dizziness. You heft him up on your good side while leaving one hand free to cast magic.

“There’s going to be a lot of noise, but I want you to ignore it.” He answers by burying his face in your shoulder. Tightening your hold, you inhale sharply. Gathering your magic, you rush out the slightly ajar door.

It bangs open loudly, startling the three men. You recognize one as the stall seller from earlier. Before they can react, you quickly throw fireballs at their feet. You call upon the wind to whip  through the small area. It stirs the dust on the ground and sends smaller objects flying.

“What the hell?!”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you make a dash for the exit. Rushing outside, you stumble a bit before breaking out in a mad dash. It’s still dark out, but the moonlight makes it easier to navigate.

They have two horses tied up nearby. Honing wind magic with sharp focus, you direct  it to cut through the rope. The horses rear in fright and immediately run off. At least the kidnappers won’t be able to use them.

“Shit! Get them! Bring the brat back alive!”

You hold Cheka tightly against you as you pump your legs. Nothing else matters except getting to somewhere safe. At the outskirts of town, you can make the faint glimmer of lights in some of the houses. Urging your magic once more, a wind pushes against your back, allowing you to run just a little faster. You can hear the kidnappers shouting but don’t look back.

Cheka keeps his eyes squeezed tight like you told him, but his whole body shakes. You continue to mutter reassurances to him, though at this point you’re trying to reassure yourself too. Feeling the fatigue of using magic so much, you let the wind die down. You can only do a little more magic before it becomes an issue.

Passing by a few homes, you call out, “Please, someone help us!”

No one answers. You see houses that were once lit suddenly turn dark. Gritting your teeth, you adjust your hold on Cheka. You can hear the kidnappers getting closer. Rushing down side streets, you zigzag through the town. You knock over trash cans in different directions before bolting down a different alley.

There’s a brief respite from all the running once you can no longer hear the kidnappers. You set Cheka down to catch your own breath. Your chest burns from the exertion. The throbbing in the back of your head has gotten worse. Cheka stares up at you with worried eyes. He gnaws on his lower lip.

Glancing around, you spy a large, water drum near the door of a house. Usually used to store rain water, you notice the crack in the side of the drum. The house itself is dark and looks to be empty. There’s also a clothing line with dry clothes and a blanket hanging. There’s a sack leaning against the drum, and you can see a shirt sleeve sticking out of it.

An idea starts to form. “Cheka, I need you to be very brave right now. I know this situation is very scary, but I promise that you’ll be safe. Do you trust me?” You kneel so your eye level with him.

He nods solemnly. Any of that usual joy is gone, and it breaks your heart. “I trust you.”

“I need you to hide in that water drum. Hide in there and count slowly to one hundred.” You pull out the mechanical meerkat you had picked up. Thankfully it still works as it jumps out of your hand and climbs up Cheka to settle on his shoulder.

There’s a small smile on his face for a moment. “Then,” you continue, “once you finish counting and you don’t hear anyone around, I want you to use the meerkat to lead you home. You remember what Leona told you, right?”

“Yes… He said I just have to ask it to take me home, and it’ll lead me back to the palace.” 

Nodding, you ruffle his hair. “Good. Now get in the drum and don’t come out until you’re done counting.” You pop off the lid.

Cheka climbs into the drum. He peers up at you. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. We’ll meet back at the palace, I promise.” Giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile, you place the lid on the drum. 

Grabbing the sack of clothes and the blanket, you dawn a large jacket and pull the hood up. You mentally apologize to whoever you’re stealing from and promise you’ll return everything. Covering the sack with the blanket, you hold it as if it were Cheka.

Breathing deeply, you give one last glance at the drum before running off. You can hear the kidnappers nearby and purposefully run by them.

“There! Get them!”

Running down streets and turning corners, you can hear them gaining. Just as you turn another corner, you come to a fence. There’s a stack of crates that you climb on to jump over the fence. However, the landing isn’t perfect as your foot lands the wrong way. You tumble forwards into the ground. Tucking the sack under your body, you come to a rolling stop. Getting back up, you wince as pain shoots up your leg.

One of the kidnappers, the stall owner, is rushing at you. As you attempt to flee, he manages to snag the back of the hood. You find yourself being dragged back. Then a clawed hand roughly grabs the back of your head causing the pain from before to intensify. Your eyes widen as you face rapidly meet the ground before you squeeze them shut. 

The burst of pain as your forehead cracks against the cold ground has you seeing stars. You cry out, but the assailant doesn’t stop. Something cracks loudly. An animalistic howl rips from your throat. You swear your face is on fire.

“Hey, man, stop!” There’s some struggle before the clawed hand disappears. You feel the cold ground pressing against your cheek but can’t see anything beyond the tears.

Someone rolls you over and the blanket is torn away. “Fuck! Where’s the brat?!”

Three shadows hover over you in the morning light. You feel a foot nudge your side. “Where’s the kid!?”

Through the pain, you find yourself smiling despite your face protesting against the gesture. You hand twitches and shakes as you try to raise it. However, a heavy pressure immediately stomps on your hand causing another scream to be ripped from your throat. You can feel the bones being ground down by the heel of someone’s foot.

“Not this time fucking mage!” growls one of them

“We’re gonna ask one last time. Where’s the boy?”

Through blurry vision, you can see their faces. Your heartbeat thumps in your ears as you see a glint of a knife in one of their hands. You were supposed to be a tutor, that’s it. Yet, you somehow find yourself bloody, bruised and beaten. There’s nothing you can do.

Whatever adrenaline that was rushing through you before, dies down. Your body sags as all the fight leaves you. Closing your eyes, you wait.

“Not gonna talk…” The foot on your hand moves away.

“Just kill them! We need to get outta here before the guards are called.”

You wonder if Cheka made it back safe.

“Let’s get this ove-arhhhhgghhh!”

Terrified screams fill the air. You can feel the crackle of magic on your skin. Gentle hands gingerly lift you up. The warmth of another body feels like a relief from the cold ground. Something tickles your face.

“You’re all a bunch of idiots. Hurting someone from the royal family is a crime punishable by death!” Leona growls. There’s a sense of relief that floods your body. You're safe.

“Take (Y/N) back to the palace and have the royal doctor take care of the injuries,” he orders. You’re passed off to someone else.

“I am the one who hungers. I am the one who thirsts.” Distinctly you can hear the kidnappers shouting and feel the ground shake. 

But soon you can’t hear anything. It doesn’t matter though as you allow yourself to slip away.

---

When you wake once more, you’re not in a grungy basement. You recognize your room at the guest house. Whatever aches and pains you had before aren’t as pronounced. Sitting up, you inspect your arms and notice your hand is bandaged up. You touch your face with your good hand and wince. There’s a dull throbbing all throughout your face.

“You’re awake.” The doctor, a cat beastman, enters. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore but fine.” You lean back against the propped up pillows. “Is Cheka okay?”

She checks your pulse. “The young prince is fine. Tired and scared, but he wasn’t hurt. You on the other hand needed a lot of fixing.” She clicks her tongue. “Your nose was broken and the area around it was extensively bruised. Your hand will need time to heal naturally, though I did reset it with magic. Your head should be fine after a few days, but you will feel some pain. Take one pill in the morning and one before bed. Drink plenty of water and get rest.”

Frowning, you set the bottle of pills down on the side table. “I’m Cheka’s tutor, I need to work.”

“You will do no such thing for at least a week,” she snaps. Her mismatched eyes glare at you as she shakes her head. “I will tell the king that you need rest or else.”

Shrinking under her gaze, you nod. “...fine.”

“Good. There’s some people here to see you.” Gesturing to the door, you finally notice Cheka peeking in.

He rushes to your side, but stops himself as he takes in the sight of you. “I’m sorry!” he suddenly cries out.

You panic as tears fall down his face. “C-Cheka? It’s okay! I’m fine!” You stroke his head with your good hand. “Everything turned out alright in the end.”

“B-but you got hurt because of me!”

Shaking your head vehemently, you give him a firm look. “You didn’t hurt me, Cheka. Those kidnappers did. Don’t ever think it’s your fault. Okay?”

Sniffling, he nods. “O-okay.”

Sighing, you give him a few more pats. “I won’t be able to do lessons for a week, but I’d like it if we could still hang out.”

Golden eyes brightening, he jumps up. “I’ll visit you everyday! We can read and play games together!”

“That sounds like a plan!” Giving him a big grin despite the throbbing pain, your heart feels lighter seeing him shine again.

He gingerly wraps his arms around you in a warm hug. There’s a cough that breaks up the hug. Leona casually leans against the door frame. “Come on, brat. Time to give (Y/N) some space.”

“Okay! I’ll be back soon. I promise!” He scampers off.

Leona saunters in and takes a seat at your bedside. “You look like shit, herbivore.”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious.” The glare you throw him has no heat and a smile forms on your face.

He eyes you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re a lot of trouble, ya know that?” There’s fondness despite the scowl.

“Thank you for saving me.” Your gaze softens. “I really thought I was done. I can’t tell you how relieved I felt hearing your voice.”

Leaning back in the chair, he smirks. “Ya owe me one.”

Eyebrows flying up, you warily ask, “What do you want?”

“Well,” he holds up three fingers, “you have to be my napping pillow whenever I ask. Play chess with me. And you can’t leave.”

Brows coming together, you frown. “I can do one and two, but three isn’t possible. You do realize I’m hired by your brother to be Cheka’s tutor? Once I’m no longer needed, I have to find a new job.”

Scoffing, Leona leaves the chair to hover over you. He’s dangerously close and you can hear your heart thumping in your ears. “I’ll just hire you as my tutor when the time comes.”

“You?” Despite his closeness, you still find the ability to laugh.

“Mhm. I believe there are some things that only you can teach me.” His eyes gleam brightly as he inches ever closer to your face.

You can feel his lips brush against your own. Squeezing your eyes shut, you wait. Even though your face hurts, you decide you don’t mind if he kisses you. Instead, you feel his lips brush against your forehead. Cracking your eyes open, your puzzled look makes him chuckle. 

His eyes are darker than before. “The doc says you can’t do anything strenuous. She’d have my head if I tried anything right now. But once you're healed, everything is fair game.” 

You feel very warm under his gaze. However, you’re also itching to heal as quickly as possible. You suddenly recall Cheka’s very innocent question about marrying Leona. Looking away from him, you wonder.

“Whacha thinkin’ so hard about?” he asks, noticing the way you can’t meet his gaze.

Shaking your head, you scoot over in bed. “Nothing. Since I’m on bed rest, you can comfort me.”

A single eyebrow goes up. “Gettin’ bold.” However, he crawls under the covers before hauling you closer to him. 

Resting your head against his chest, you relax. “So, are we…?” You trail off, not sure how to ask.

He snorts. “Of course we are. Keep up, herbivore.” Leona holds you gently, being sure not to touch any of your injuries. “Just rest,” he orders.

Closing your eyes, you decide not to worry about the logistics. Right now, you’re not Cheka’s tutor and Leona isn’t a prince. You’re just two people. And it’s perfect.

[miniisunshine]

It's here! My Kappa x new girl is out

Synopsis : Was he yours if he wanted me so bad

Warnings : AFAB ready, P in V, swearing, dubious consent?, dom Kappa, sort off humiliation kink

Being the new girl in an already established group is never easy, even harder when there's princess treatments for one, but boy oh boy were you determine to move that bitch and take her place sooner or later.

You've met Kappa for the first time in an alleyway; while you were trying to steal from a creepy guy, your plan failed miserably and you ended up trap inbetween him and a brick wall. Trying to escape from his strong grasp, delaying the horrible nightmares who would come next, you were lucky enough to be saved by the long black haired cult leader. Immediately hypnotised by his cold icy gaze, you didn't need to think one minute to accept his invitation to join his "human-robots killers group". I mean, you were already in the crime industry, what could go wrong?

Already head over heels for this man, you were greeted with a cold shower when you first met Kappa's favorite one : Theta. And she made it veeery clear to you that he was hers and she was his, like a prince to his princess.

But what she didn't know was, at night, the one she called "mine" was in your bed, carressing and kissing you, whispering sweet words into your ears as he fucked you until you couldn't see clear and you loved it, even though you still wanted to be more than just his midnight love.

So one night, as you were laying on his chest, drawing circles on his skin, you poured your heart out for Kappa.

"Are you gonna claim me as yours one day?"

"Why are you asking that Sugar?"

You sighed

"I'm tired of being your dirty little secret, i should be the one you show proudly, not Theta.."

"But i love you just like i love her, isn't that enough?"

"No it's not! And you clearly don't LOVE her if you keep coming in my bed every night! Stop lying with those words."

You almost screamed.

Shocked by your anger he got off the bed, raising his hand to slap you, but didn't, like a force prevented him from doing so. Without a word, he stormed out the room, leaving you crying quietly on your matress, deeply affected by his unequival feelings to you.

As the night goes by, sadness grew into anger and anger became vengance: let's see how long he could resist keeping you a secret to the rest of the group.

In the morning, you threw off the sluttiest nightgown you could find, parading in front of everybody, purposefully getting the attention of every man who would get an eyeful of your body.

Bending over to grab the milk in the fridge, your eyes met Kappa's furious gaze, as you slowly poured the liquid in a glass. Because Theta was peacefully eating her breakfast next to you, he knew nothing could be done right now to stop this show you put on before lunch, preventing "his" men from looking at you like lions looking at their prey.

You finished your milk, winking at him while licking your lips, as you went back into your room, changing yourself, ready to attack this beautiful day.

Since nothing was scheduled today, you decided to take on the tasks you were given one your first day : cleaning the house. Washing and scrubing was something you enjoyed a lot and with a boring day like this, it was the perfect activity to waste your time one.

As the hour passed, you were left all alone in the house, cleaning the dining room, while the others benefited from the great warmth outside, or so you thought.

Deeply focus into your work, you didn't heard Kappa's footsteps rapidly approaching, caging you with his chest on your back and his hands trapping yours on the table.

"You have 5 seconds to explain what happened this morning Sugar."

He asked calmly, with a bittersweet undertone.

"I don't know what you're talking about.."

You said innocently, but deep down, this moment was all you hoped for after what you have done earlier.

"Don't act fucking stupid with me. Is it because of last night? Are you now punishing me for telling you the truth sweety?"

You couldn't respond. His dark tone and his tall body towering behind you were making you unable to let any sound come out of your mouth.

"Let's see who's really getting punish in all of this."

You couldn't process what he had said before he forcefully slamed your upperbody on the table, pressing his hard on in your ass.

"W..wait Kappa.. We can t..talk!"

"Too late pretty face, you've reached my limit and now you have to pay for it."

His peaceful voice would have calmed everybody, but the situation made it bone chilling as the words reached your ears.

He cuffed both your hands behind your back with his right hand while he stripped you from your pants and underwear before doing the same with his.

You couldn't deny the excitement in that moment, but you could also feel the anxiety going up as you knew you were in for a rough one.

Against all odds, you felt Kappa's fingers carressing your wet folds, making you whimper.

"Already so wet for me.. Do you really think i believed you when you told me you didn't put that little show on purpose this morning?"

He landed a hard slap on your ass, obtaining a hiss from you, as he lower himself to your ears.

"You want me to show everybody who you belong to?"

You nodded weakly before he inserted himself harshly into you, with a low groan. You loudly cried out of pleasure, but also from pain, as a tear made his way on your cheek.

"Nhg... K..Kappa.."

You tried to tell him to go softer with you but his rapid thrusts could only make you moan.

"Yea, keep calling my name like that"

He grabbed your waist, bruising it with his grip, as if he was scared you were gonna try to escape, but you weren't. The pain you felt earlier was far gone and replaced by pure enjoyment created by Kappa's dick into you.

Both your moans filled the dining room, creating a perfect melody for anybody to hear, and by anybody you meant Theta, who was watching everything from the window, outside. You catched her staring as Kappa kept drilling into you and that's what pushed you to the edge: knowing his favorite girl was watching him gaining pleasure by you was enough to make you come.

Screaming his name, you gripped the table as hardly as you could, legs shaking from the things you were feeling.

"Is my girl already done?"

Kappa's didn't let you came down from your high as he grab you by the shoulders, forcing you to face him and kneel before him.

"Now finish me off"

You licked your lips, pumping his length with your hands before licking it from balls to tip, making him drop his head backwards. As precum started to leak, you take him whole into his mouth, adjusting to his size while your fingers found their way on his balls.

His hands firmly grabbed a chunk off your hair, as he guided your head, sucking him off just the way he liked it.

"F...fuck just like that.. Good girl.."

Tears were creeping from your eyes and spit dripping from your mouth, butyou could only focus on the ungodly sounds Kappa was producing, making you unable to not touch yourself as your clit was throbbing.

Both your paces increased as his breath fasten, signifying he was reaching his limits. Your moans vibrating on his dick, he released his load into your mouth while you came for a second time on your fingers.

Swallowing the milky concoction, Kappa helped you get on your feet, dressing him and you back as he placed small kisses on your body, telling you how good you did today.

You innocently smiled as you leaved the room to go wash yourself up in the bath before Theta blocked you in the hallway

"What do you think you're doing with MY man?"

"I mean, is he really yours if he wanted me so bad?"

Omg i am so sorry it took so long and it being so badly written. I had an idea, but it was done poorly! Hopefully at least one you appreciate it lol

[arabellasleopardcoat]

MAD (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Chapter summary: Temptation is everywhere in the Red Keep

Warnings: Mature language. Westerosi sexism.

A/N: I was going to write the letters, but I promised myself I wasn’t going to go over 5k

Part 1

4

Aemond watches in amusement as you crawl around the gardens in the Red Keep. You are wearing a pale yellow sundress, covered by a pretty apron. It resembles a servant’s outfit, instead of a proper gown for a lady of your station. Despite it, you look well. The apron has lace much too delicate for a servant girl, and he guesses you must have sewn it yourself. Helaena sports a soft cotton variation, clearly stemming from her issue with lace.

Both of you are covered in grass stains. The pretty aprons serve their function well, preventing the ruin of your dresses. There is a certain attractiveness in the joy of your expression, he muses, in a detached fashion. Never had he seen a lady so happy about getting her hands dirty.

His careful plan to court you indicates Aemond has to come out and offer both of you refreshments. Yet, he finds himself hesitant about breaking the moment. No matter how unladylike your behavior is, he has never seen you more carefree.

So far, he is finding you much of a tough crowd for a farm girl. It was meant to be easy, but you are so guarded all the time, it takes more effort than Aemond thought would be needed. It’s not like he was expecting you to fall at his feet the first week in, but he had hoped to be able to talk to you alone at least once. Instead, you are either plastered at Helaena’s side or slipping away before he can get more than a word in. And tense. So damn tense, one would think Aemond bites.

It’s getting a bit ridiculous. You are infuriating, for a young maiden. Your only redeeming quality is your treatment of Helaena. You seem to have hit it off with her, and remain loyal and steadfast. Listening to her rambles with infinite patience, accommodating her needs and enabling her bug hunts.

Any other noble lady would have run for the hills already. But you seem to take your made-up position as companion seriously, doing research on his sister’s interests and allowing her to place all sorts of bugs on your hands. If any, Aemond supposes that is a good quality in a wife. It shows you have a strong stomach and a certain amount of bravery.

The Seven knew if he was the one getting crawled all over by Helaena’s pests, he would need to soak in a bath for a week. Just on cue, she gives a small yelp of surprise before grinning madly. Helaena is holding something in her hand, probably a caterpillar or something that has equally disgusting crawling habits. She looks deliriously happy.

Deciding to grant you the kindness of not having to touch it, Aemond comes out of the corner he is hiding in, carrying a small tray.

“Ladies.” Aemond tries to sound cheerful. By the tension in your shoulders, he doesn’t quite reach the mark. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too hot for all this?”

Helaena stops, giving him a wide smile. It has been far too long since Aemond has seen her this happy. Probably before the birth of the twins. One good thing you have achieved. His chest aches. Must be the heat.

“Brother!”

“My Prince.” You sound much less excited about it, going from your hands and knees to a respectable sitting position. Which, a shame. The more Aemond looked at you in that position, the more… agreeable he found himself to the prospect of bedding you.

“I brought you some juice.” Aemond says, awkwardly. In truth, no matter how hard he tries, this is not as easy as he had expected. He is not used to the flowery language of courtiers, never been one for it himself. The only time he has entertained preparing delicate compliments has been for disguising clever barbs at his nephews.

“Thank you.” Helaena puts down whatever bug she is holding, and daintily wipes her hands on her apron, before grabbing a cup. “Do you want to see what we found today? We have a caterpillar from a…”

Aemond tunes Helaena out. While he likes his sister more than he likes most people, everyone in the Red Keep must be going mad with all the talk about insects. It’s unavoidable. Even he has picked up a few facts on the things. Aemond is pretty sure you have driven his mother to insanity already, having to deal not with one, but two girls obsessed with crawling things.

And by the Seven, you are dedicated to your obsession. Somehow, you have procured a small shed outside for Helaena and her bugs. Aemond wonders idly if you asked for it, or just took it. Both are great feats, considering you are either very bold, or you managed to hold Viserys’s attention for more than five minutes.

You get up from the grass, eyeing him in distrust. Measuring, calculating. It’s a look that reminds him far too much of the older Beesbury. The man was bold, a trait that you seemed to share, but he trusted no one.

Aemond stares back at you. Your eyes are the one feature that he doesn’t really like. They are disquieting. Uncomfortable to look at for too long. They seem to know too much for such a young woman.

Other than that, you are rather pretty. The sort of beauty that seems to be heightened by the time spent outdoors. Much to his surprise, really. Your features glow from exertion, pieces of hair slipping out of the elegant updo you have it in. There is a softness in the curve of your neck, and a grace in the way you carry yourself. Unlike Helaena’s, your hands are stronger. A farm girl’s hands. The sun has you slightly tanned, yet, despite it, you manage to look healthy and not common.

You will make a fine wife, Aemond decides. Once he trains you out of the habit of crawling around in gardens on all fours. Best leave that for the bedroom.

“…. Brother! Brother!”

He is shaken out of his contemplation by Helaena’s nagging voice. Siblings. So annoying.

“What?” And she should be thankful, really. If it were Aegon, he would have smacked him with the tray.

“Lady Beesbury has been trying to fight you for her cup for the past couple of minutes.” She states, simply, and Aemond looks away from your delightful face, now marred with a frown, towards your hands. One of them is trying to reach the cup that’s just out of your reach.

“Oh. My apologies.”

As he hands you the cup, and you raise it to your lips, still frowning, he wonders if you are opposed to his advances or just too blind to notice them. Or perhaps, he is not so good at this courting business as he thought he would be.

Your tongue licks a stray droplet of the drink, almost absentmindedly. Lust is not a feeling he is unfamiliar with, but unlike other men, Aemond has always thought himself disconnected from it. Detached, as if he was more mind than body and heart. Yet, the sight of your small, pink tongue, makes his breeches feel uncomfortable.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling. Unlike some other members of his house, never has he considered himself to be particularly hot-blooded, nor has he behaved in such a manner. On that, he had taken pride. He was good. Better. Pious.

Aemond used to feel a sense of superiority about it. Look at Rhaenyra, he thought, and her inability to be faithful to one man. Look at Daemon, lusting over women half his age. Look at Aegon, chasing skirts everywhere. They were unable to control themselves and often made terrible mistakes. But not Aemond, no.

Until you came along. And now he is panicking and floundering around because you are smiling. Why are you smiling? Have you noticed a hint of lust under his impeccable mask and find it amusing?

His heart beats so fast, it feels as if it actually might come out of his chest and take flight. He doesn’t want you to think he is no more than a lustful dog, trying to hump your leg. He wants you to respect him, admire him.

“It has honey on it.” You finally put an end to his plight, your sweet voice sounding pleased. Your tone is a siren’s song, calling to him. It’s lure so great, Aemond thinks he might have been rendered unable of rational thought.

“It does.” Aemond answers, dumbly. He is more pleased than he should be, over you noticing that detail.

By the Seven, what is wrong with him? He is not Aegon, losing his head over a pretty maid. He is meant to be smarter, stronger than that. His grandsire would be disappointed in him.

“My favorite.” You say to him. As if he doesn’t know. As if he hasn’t made it his task to know everything there is to know about you. “Tastes just like the one at home.”

Aemond, all tongue-tied from the way your face looks like when delighted, just nods.

Fuck. He should ask Cole for advice. He had heard he was quite the ladies' man back in the day. Even his mother had had a crush on him, or so the rumors said.

5

It has been a few weeks. You have settled into a comfortable routine by now. Avoiding the Princes, sticking by Helaena’s side. Garden time in the mornings, afternoons with the twins, supper with the family. Rinse and repeat.

With how careful you usually are, it’s hard for you to be ambushed. Yet, you are. As you turn down a corner, a book on apiculture you intend to show Helaena in your hands, you come face to face with Prince Aemond.

You are not dumb. You know what he is trying to do, but you never thought him to be so bold as to ambush you in a corridor. Everyone knew he had no interest in women, nor in tourneys or socializing. So his sudden shift towards chivalry and courtly love had made quite a few heads turn.

Your grandfather had warned you about him as soon as he started approaching you. Prince Aemond was, for some reason, trying to initiate a courtship with you. Usually so cold and dutiful, you couldn’t think of a reason for him to be pursuing you. Much less, why Otto Hightower himself would encourage his attentions. Too often you were made to sit next to him at dinner, or found yourself alone in a room with him. There was no reason for it. Except, of course, revenge.

“You can’t underestimate him, little bee.” Your grandfather had said. “If there is one of those children that’s ruthless enough to execute Otto Hightower’s plots, it’s that one.”

At first, you didn’t heed his advice. You had slowly started to be lulled into a false sense of safety, after days of nothing happening. Prince Aemond was not good at flirting, so you hadn’t noticed anything odd at first. Maybe, attempts at friendship.

Then, you felt slightly flattered. He was showering you with attention, which was something you didn’t frequently get, here. After all, you were a companion for Helaena. Your days revolved around making her happy, talking about what interested her, doing what she liked. While she was nice, she seemed to struggle with social interactions and so, she never asked about you.

But then, Aemond started to show his hand more and more. Your grandfather’s words had rung a bell then, and you started avoiding him. The better you got to know the layout of the Red Keep, the easier it was. Perhaps, for that, your guard lowered. Or perhaps, his clueless attempts at courting you had distracted you.

One thing to say about Prince Aemond? He had the same skill as a courtier as he did at embroidery, which is to say, none. Most of the time, it felt as if he was mocking you instead of courting you, although when he managed to get it right, it was quite sweet.

He is not as cold and calculating as you would have thought. A bit blunt, but otherwise pleasant to be around.

This time, though, his skill at planning is showing. Just as you left Helaena’s rooms, Prince Aegon appeared. In your haste to avoid him, you ducked into a side corridor, where Prince Aemond was conveniently waiting. There is literally nowhere for you to run to. This corridor leads to the Queen’s chambers, which you would not dare enter uninvited.

The Prince has you cornered. And you can tell, by the look in his eyes, that he is enjoying it.

“Are you alright, Lady Beesbury?” Aemond leans against the wall, sporting a smug smile. “You look quite agitated.”

“Oh, I am wonderful.” Your tone is so flat, you worry he will call you out on it. “Just wonderful.”

“Admiring the architecture?” Aemond asks, and you frown in confusion. The Prince then points to a new decoration in the shape of a Seven Pointed Star. “Mother put this here just last week. I can’t think of a reason for you to wander this corridor. Unless, you know… You were hiding.”

You snort a little, definitely unladylike, before schooling your face back into a polite mask. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing his antics amuse you, but he clearly notices. He gives you a tight-lipped smile, proud of himself.

“Perhaps I was.” It comes out slightly flirtier than you expected. More coy. Good Gods, what is going on with you? First you find him sweet, then you laugh at his humor, now you flirt? No. It can’t be. You clear your throat, but the damage is done. Aemond closes the distance between the two of you.

“Don’t try to run, little bee.” He warns, and you roll your eyes. If this is his attempt at seduction, he is even worse than you expected. It sounds as if you are about to get murdered instead of romanced. “Nor hide.”

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You complain because while you might tolerate it coming from your family, it doesn’t mean you like it. Aemond, as always, ignores you.

“I wanted to give you something.”

Suddenly, you do not feel as comfortable anymore. Dread makes your hands start to sweat, and you clench and unclench your fists. Is he about to try something to ruin your reputation? You are in great danger, you realize. You are an unwed woman, alone with a man who’s not part of her family nor her betrothed. This is bad. Really bad.

“Yes, my Prince?” You answer, very curtly, keeping your distance. Still, it’s a bit unnecessary. By the posture he is sporting, hands at his back, Aemond looks more likely to start marching than try and besmirch your honor.

But one never knows with Targaryesn, does one? It was just a thing of looking at the eldests. Like dogs in heat. Besides, you have been outmaneuvered. Again. The brilliance in this is, Aemond doesn’t need to do anything. Not even touch you. Just say he did. These are the facts. Prince Aegon saw you walk towards a secluded hallway. Aemond and you are alone. Everyone knows you have been flirting for a while now. Anyone can do the math.

Here comes the blackmailing attempt, you guess. You can already hear it, words ringing in your ears so clearly you swear he is the one saying them. You either convince your grandfather to vote this way, or act that way, or I say you bedded me.

Your instinct turns out to be wrong. Instead of starting an evil monologue and threats, Aemond presses a small lump in your hand. It’s something wrapped in silk cloth, and small. Despite it, you receive it as if it were a burning coal.

Unable not to, you peek at it. Inside the cloth rests a small hairpiece in the form of a bee. It’s set in silver and decorated with black and yellow stones. You are no expert in jewelry, but you can tell it’s expensive. There is no way your family could afford something like it.

Never before has someone gifted you anything as nice as this is. It’s not like you are destitute, but your grandfather is the Master of Coin because he is loyal and honest. Not because of his ability to amass wealth. He is smart, and knows how to make the most of little, but as far as accumulating wealth goes, you will be better off with a Lannister.

The temptation to keep it is strong. You love shiny things as much as any other girl, and this was clearly made for you. Besides, giving it back would be wasteful. With such an obvious allusion to your house, it’s not like it can be gifted to any other girl.

It would look pretty on your hair. And it would help you blend in. You knew you wore simpler styles than most of the ladies here. This would show that you were not only a farm girl, but as much of a Lady as any other woman.

It would also mean flaunting or even acknowledging Aemond has a claim on you. Despite the temptation, you can’t keep it. You are too level-headed for it. While it might be nice to show everyone you were as noble as any of them, you know it’s a bad idea. It’s nothing but your vanity speaking.

You ignore the little voice in your head that tells you that it’s charming that Aemond tries so much. Nothing but vanity.

Instead of doing anything, you do as always, playing clueless. Best that he thinks you are dumb instead of deliberately trying to offend him.

“You are one of the most thoughtful brothers I have met.”

“Hm?” Aemond blinks, as if he is unsure what you are talking about. You have to conceal your smile, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your face from twitching.

“Your devotion to your sister is admirable. I will make sure to get it to her.” You smile, and turn back on your heel, pocketing the hairpiece.

The last thing you hear is Prince Aegon’s mocking voice, who apparently had eavesdropped the last of the conversation.

“Not very charming, are you?”

“Shut up.” Aemond sounds embarrassed. It makes you laugh a little, both in disbelief at having gotten away with it and delight at his plight. But as soon as you enter your chambers and the door is locked after you, the reality of the situation sinks in.

You were in real danger today. Prince Aemond could have hurt you. He could have damaged your reputation. And worse of all, you would have let him. You need to get away from this place. Fast.

6

“Her father is sick.” Aemond complains, as he sits in his grandsire’s chambers. “Oddly convenient timing.”

“Oh?” His grandsire barely lifts his eyes from the parchments he is looking at. He makes some notes with his quill. Despite the great catastrophe this is of their plans, Otto doesn't look too concerned.

“I was just starting to make some progress!” Aemond rubs his temples. “I don’t understand women. She looked like she was going to accept the hairpiece, I know it.”

In truth, he cannot understand you for the life of him. You had even been flirting back a little, for the Seven’s sake. You were clearly distrustful of him, yet as the weeks went on, you started to become much more playful. Perhaps, even more than just friendly.

You responded well to his advances. Guarded, at first, but the jewelry clearly had gotten to you. Aemond had wanted to press, then. Gift you another piece, something that made his intentions even more clear. He had abstained only because of your quick retreat.

This was a game of patience, Aemond tried to remind himself. Not strategy, but patience. Moving too soon might spook you.

“Perhaps it’s a good sign.” His grandsire sets down his quill, looking at him. Aemond scowls more.

“Is it? Now she is halfway across the country, being chatted up by farm boys and the Seven know what else.”

His grandfather rolled his eyes.

“Aemond. Please, I beg you. Do not subject me to even more idiocy than I already have to withstand. Think.”

“I am thinking.” Aemond complains, before risking a glance at his interlocutor. When Otto Hightower spoke, others listened. And by the look on his face, Aemond was doing a poor job of it.

“You are falling for the girl.” He doesn’t need to elaborate any further. The sentence is as damming as if he had spoken more than a thousand words.

Aemond wants to give an angry rebuttal, but forces himself to keep quiet. Out of everyone in the Red Keep, it’s Otto’s judgement whom he trusts the most. His grandsire has always had a good eye for reading people, and knows him since he was a child. If anyone would know, it would be him.

“You have to admit she has been an excellent companion for Helaena.” He says instead, keeping his tone neutral. Which, you are. You have fulfilled that part of their plan to near perfection. It’s not like he is saying anything but the truth, or even praising you. That’s enough to endear you to both Aemond and his grandsire.

“Very dutiful.” Otto agrees, looking thoughtful. “If a bit… Well. Farm girl like.”

“So?” Because if any, to Aemond that’s a plus, not a hindrance. Women at court weren’t exactly what he would choose for a wife. Too used to niceties and intrigues, your lack of refinement was refreshing. Not in your words because Aemond could tell you were holding back your real thoughts and opinions, but in your reactions. The face that you made when angered was very amusing.

“This is still the woman you are trying to manipulate to do our bidding.” His grandsire shifts towards the fire, casually. Like he would rather not see how his words are about to upset him. Aemond fights the urge to laugh because as if. He knew exactly what he was getting into. This was not the time for moral concerns.

“Is it so bad if I like her?” He truly doesn’t see the issue. Aemond will marry you, after all. Liking you is a good thing.

“As long as it doesn’t cloud your judgement.” Ah. Of course. Aemond walks around the desk, to be able to look at his grandsire in the eyes. Sometimes, it’s hard for him to do so. Having only one eye means having to compensate for the blind spots, and it ends up making things awkward. It’s not often Aemond puts himself through it.

“It would never cloud my judgement.” He tries to look as earnest and sincere as he can. Despite it, Aemond it’s not sure if he believes himself. Too frequently has he found himself distracted with thoughts of your eyes or your smile. Too frequently has he thought about what it would feel like to kiss you and hold you close.

“You are panicking. Over a woman.”

Aemond keeps quiet. There is not much else to say, after all. He can’t exactly claim objectivity, but at least liking you makes him more likely to succeed. Or that’s what he hopes for. Having the right motivation and all.

His grandsire sighs. He gets up, green cloak billowing. Just as Aemond and his mother, he is not very prone to affection. That’s why the hand on his shoulder comes out as a surprise.

“Back in my day…” Otto starts, and Aemond cannot help but roll his eyes. “We didn’t have the luxury of seeing our ladies every day.”

Despite the urge to tease him about sounding like such an old man, Aemond is not going to pass up his opportunity to get advice. He is desperate enough to leave his pride aside. All his plans counted on you being here, after all.

“What did you do, then?”

“I wrote her letters. And sonnets.” The idea of someone as serious as him writing sonnets, of all things, is a laughable one. But perhaps it holds some merit. Commonplaces were commonplaces for a reason, he had realized with the jewelry. If ladies liked letters, Aemond was not opposed to writing you a few.

A shame he was not going to get the chance to see your eyes gleaming with happiness. All the efforts in obtaining the damn bee that Helaena now wore had been worth it for the look on your face. You were rather cute when being greedy, after all.

“Sonnets? You?” Because his grandsire must be teasing. Surely. He can’t even picture him in love. Ew.

“The most artful.” Otto smiles slightly. Aemond cannot help but laugh, feeling a little better. “In your case, I would try letters. You would probably scar her for life with your attempts at poetry.”

So that night, Aemond sits down on his desk, scowling. His penmanship is not what it used to be, before the loss of his eye. Writing is a challenging endeavor, having to keep the letters in a straight horizontal line and legible enough for the person receiving the letter to understand its meaning.

“My dear Lady Beesbury.” Aemond shakes his head and scratches the greeting. “No, too presumptuous.”

“Lady Beesbury? No, too formal. But her first name is too familiar.” He scratches another greeting, quickly realizing he would have to rewrite the letter before sending it.

It takes about four separate rolls of parchment, and by the end of it, Aemond’s hands are stained with ink. He finally settles on a small note.

Dear Lady Beesbury,

I am writing to you to inquire about your father’s health. As you are a very appreciated family friend, I feel it is my duty to ask about your welfare and see if there is anything we can do for you. If you think it necessary, know every Maester at the Red Keep is available to depart to Honeyholt on your call.

Wishing you well,

Prince Aemond.

Perhaps, not his most graceful attempt, but he sends it by raven regardless. He spends the week oddly on edge, waiting for your reply. It’s a simple note, too, graced with your thanks, but that doesn’t really say anything.

He finds himself looking for excuses to keep talking to you. Asking your opinion on a name day present for Helaena. Your opinion on a book. Your thoughts on honey from the Vale as in opposed to Honeyholt.

Today, I read an old treaty about medicinal uses of plants. I remembered that the topic interests you, and so, have enclosed my notes, in the hope that you soon will be reunited with us and able to read it for yourself.

The fact that you answer at all surprises him. So guarded as you were in court, he would have never thought you capable of sharing snippets of your life with him. But perhaps boredom or loneliness is getting to you. It must be quite the change, going from running around the Red Keep with Helaena, the twins and him, to your lonely home and tending to a sick relative.

He likes you, Aemond realizes. You are quite witty, and the conversation flows easily now that he actually has time to think about his answers. No longer he finds himself paralyzed by his task. It’s much easier to talk to you, now that you aren’t in front of him.

It means he starts to get bolder, too. More open. Praising your beauty, your manners, your mind. Not only does your physique appeal to him, but now that he is actually getting to know you, Aemond is starting to enjoy your humor and conversation.

The days have been very sunny lately, yet it has only contributed to my loneliness. I fear you might have ruined me, for I cannot step out in the sun without searching for your beauty.

You get skillful at evading the topic. You do not respond to the compliments, rather evade them entirely. But slowly, hints of your real feelings start to peek through. The attention he bestows on you must be flattering because small words of fondness start to appear.

…. It’s not a lack of recognition on my part about the Maester’s arguments in favor of the historical ramifications of the fall of Valyria, but rather that I find myself inclined to agree with my Prince on the topic…

And there is, of course, the first time you admit your enjoyment of his company and attentions. A memorable occasion if there was one, both for making him feel like less of a suitor that couldn’t take a hint and wanted.

“Aemond, are you blushing?” Aegon teases as they wait for their meal. His mother has insisted that they should have at least one, as a family. It does not seem to be working. Most of the time, his grandsire is busy and Helaena, while physically present, has her head in the clouds. Yet, probably because Aemond was some sort of despicable vermin in a past life, everyone seems to be present today.

Aegon snatches the letter out of his hand before he can react.

“As the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. But I have never hoped to find myself in such a state of grief.” Aegon reads, in a mockingly high tone. He squints at the letter, either trying to decipher your terrible handwriting or to get the letter to stop swimming. He is past the amount of annoyance a sober Aegon causes, which means he is drunk. “I had not realized how much I had grown used to and liked your presence. Just as it happens to you, I find myself turning and searching for you among a sea of faces.”

“Give that back!” Aemond lunges for the letter. Aegon scrambles off the bench with surprisingly agility, crumpling the letter slightly. Aemond mourns the loss of its pristine state. He has been saving each one of your notes in perfect state.

“Poor girl. Clearly deprived, if she finds the way you feed Vhagar so fetching.” And it doesn’t even make sense, but it angers him anyway. Aemond lunges for Aegon, trying to snatch the letter out of his grasp.

“Why can’t we have a nice meal without you two arguing?” His mother asks, and takes the letter from Aegon, handing it back to him. “You shouldn’t be playing with her feelings. She sounds as if she cares about you.”

This time, Aemond’s blush is not from delight.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Signing a Contract - Chevalier Michel (main route)

After Chevalier and Emma have breakfast together, they head to the foreign faction's office when they're stopped by Sariel who wants to double check the clauses on a contract given yesterday. As Emma looks over it, she realizes that it was written in a way that the other party can make decisions in their favor. Emma apologizes and says she’ll redraft it. While she’s been able to do her official duties without much of a problem, she hasn’t gotten the hang of drafting contracts. She was extra careful this time too which is making her feel even more down. But the weight on her heart’s lifted a bit when she notices Chevalier seeing through her with a warmth in his eyes. Emma resolves to do better.

Upon arriving at the office, Chevalier immediately hands Emma a sheet of paper used to write contracts. She wonders if he means for her to practice with him, but she doesn’t want to be a bother. Chevalier tells her that a contract only exists when there’s another party involved and asks if she thinks she can practice by herself. Well he’s got a point. With Chevalier with her, that heavy feeling Emma had in her heart disappears. 

Emma and Chevalier make a contract together as practice. He lists out the terms and as she drafts the contract, she checks it over with him. 

Party A (Emma) is prohibited from speaking with another man except for Party B (Chevalier) for the day.

Should the contract be broken, Party A will accept whatever treatment from Party B.

Regarding the first point, Chevalier’s sure that Emma can figure out how to go a day without talking to other men. Kind of sounds like he wants her to spend the whole day with him. However, Emma still has her work to do which involves running around and handing stuff to other people, but Chevalier says that she doesn’t have to talk to the people she interacts with. He’ll make an exception in the case of something urgent needing to be passed on.

When it came to thinking up of reparations for breaking the contract, Emma first suggested making sweets, but Chevalier says that it wouldn’t be any different from usual.

With the contract completed, the two sign it.

Now Emma will have to have as little contact with men as possible for the day. She performs her official duties with a weird sense of nervousness. And then Nokto shows up. While she’d usually greet him, all she can do today is smile at him. He walks up to Emma after finishing his report to Chevalier and points out that she’s acting weird. He asks if she’s doing something interesting and Emma’s internally panicking because she can’t talk to him. Meanwhile Chevalier’s just smirking. Emma just shakes her head at Nokto who asks Chevalier if there’s something wrong with her. If Nokto’s got time to ask stuff like this, then he must have a lot of time on his hands. Chevalier can fix that—and Nokto’s gone. Emma mentally apologizes to the prince.

And so continues Emma’s day of trying to honor the contract. When she goes to the kitchen to make tea for Chevalier after finishing some work, Yves is already there. He tells Emma that she made it just in time to taste test his sweets. Emma’s again panicking because she doesn’t think she’ll be able to gesture out her thoughts. Meanwhile, Yves asks if she’s feeling sick and then starts to get mad when she doesn’t say anything. Emma runs away before words spill out, and Yves is left dumbstruck in the kitchen.

And then Emma runs into Luke who asks why she’s in such a rush. He looks worried but Emma can’t say anything so she claps her hands together to express her gratitude and runs away. Well, except Yves is in her way. Both he and Luke ask her why she’s running away from them and with Emma still not speaking, Yves is getting worried. He asks her if she has a sore throat-Luke offers some honey. The more the two worry over her, the more guilt Emma feels. As she tries to back away, they reach out and grab her. No more running; if she’s sick, they’re bringing her to the infirmary. 

Then all of a sudden, someone pulls Emma away from the two. She looks up and sees Chevalier. Yves and Luke express their worries over Emma’s inability to speak to the king and ask if he knows what’s up. With a faint smile, Chevalier tells Emma that he’s not here to save her. She has to figure this out herself. Can she continue to honor the contract? But the others are worried. The time’s come for Emma to decide whether she should continue to honor the contract or not.

[moontyun]

Pairing: prince!Jungwon x peasant!reader Genre: romance, lost friends, attempted humor, attempted angst?, childhood friends to lovers Synopsis: People out grow each other all of the time. That was the natural process of life, but not for him. Everywhere he turned you were there. You were always someone he could not leave behind again. He'd lost you once, he wasn't going to lose you again. Word count: 1.01K Warning(s): Using stage names, raising a dog together(?), favorite child

Luxurious living...

Orange and red covered the whole house. Dark shadows danced on the walls as the smell of a home cooked meal and smoke filled the air. The fire crackled on as they all sat around the table. The home was warm and peaceful. 

The palace was nothing like this. Where he lived regularly, it was cold. No one made eye contact unless spoken to directly and hardly even then. It was a place of loneliness and isolation attempting to cover it all up with lavish things, golden vases, silk curtains, extravagant jewels, savory foods and sweets beyond your wildest dreams. It was more painful than it was luxury. 

Being here, felt like he was alive. It felt like home. This was his home away from home. The people here showed their emotions, no matter how ugly they got. No matter what they always forgave each other. There wasn’t a silent treatment in sight, no shoving that person into a cold, damp room for days on end. 

He wasn’t told to stay back and not help out or pitch in. In fact, he was encouraged to help. He loved to help, sitting back and doing nothing always made him feel guilty more than anything else. He felt like he could be a normal person here and not just the spoiled prince most people thought that he was. He felt human. “Jungwon, dear, get some water down by the river, please. Before it gets too dark.” Jake’s mother asked him, not looking up from the knitting project in front of her. “Jake, go help him.” Jake clicked his tongue as he reluctantly got up following his friend to the river. 

Truthfully, Jungwon didn’t need help getting water but he didn’t mind the company. “She always makes me follow you everywhere. I’m starting to think she loves you like her own youngest son.” She probably did. She did baby Jungwon more than she did her own sons. 

Jungwon shrugged, “Maybe I’m her favorite child.” 

The other scoffed, “You wish.” 

-

Riki had caused you enough trouble for one day. From not telling you about the dahlias days ago to trying to gamble away your most valued bracelet. He was just in one of those moods today.

At this point, you had enough of your friend. He was being a menace to society. He was hitting on anything with a pulse all the way home. You could not wait until you got home and away from him. Your mother would scold him, like she always did, after she caught wind of what her “son” was doing and you’d sit there enjoying the show that was unfolding right in front of you. It was always a glorious sight for you to behold.But all of that would have to wait until tomorrow, you were far too tired to even think about the day anymore. You had fallen asleep as soon as your head hit the soft plush pillow. 

The sun shone brightly through the trees, colorful flowers filling the surrounding fields.The vast pond glittering in the beautiful sunlight. Laughter filled the air. A little boy about your age and height, smiling and giggling with you. 

A worn out blanket laid out on the green grass, burnt bread sitting in the middle of it with a sweet piece of expensive candy your grandfather had given to you once many years ago. Birds fluttering about, tweeting as they flew above the two of you. 

“Here,” You held out a button for him to take. “Don’t lose it.” 

He took the button, clearly confused. “For what?” 

“It’s a best friend token, so you don’t forget about me.”

He smiled warmly before ripping off his neon yellow necklace and handing it over to you. “Don’t lose it. It’s a best friend token so you don’t forget about me.” He repeated back. 

You took the necklace happily and tied it around your wrist, “It’ll stay here forever!” 

The dream was hazy but it all felt too familiar. You had certainly been there before. The dream had felt all too real for it not to be memory. 

-

The river babbled on as they approached. The night was quiet and peaceful. Not a cloud in sight, the moon was full and bright. The stars twinkled and sparkled against the dark black sky. It was a beautiful night tonight. 

Jungwon was trapped within his thoughts. He feared becoming like his father as a ruler. Someone who ruled with an iron fist. One who made children weep over spilled milk. Someone who took land away from the farmers for his own personal luxuries. One who pillaged and plundered for the thrill of it. A vile king who enjoyed the chaos he created. One who made his subjects fear him.

Jungwon knew what kind of ruler he wanted to be and it was nothing like that. He wanted to be someone who his kingdom adored. Someone who they could turn to in need of help. A dependable person. Someone who was just and kind. He did not want to be a replica. The generational curse of a wicked ruler was going to end with his parents. That's what he had decided both for himself and for his future kingdom. 

Being as close as the two of them were, Jake knew something was up and he knew exactly what it was. He knew Jungwon wasn’t going to want to speak about it, it was an internal battle between himself and no one else. He wasn’t going to stick his nose where it did not belong for the time being. Jake sighed, “I was thinking of getting a dog, what do you think?” He asked, trying his best to break his friend out of those spiraling thoughts. 

Jungwon furrowed his brows, “A dog?” 

Jake nodded his head. 

Jungwon stared at his friend in blatant surprise, “You can’t even take care of yourself and you want a dog?” 

“I can take care of myself! I take care of you, too! What’s so different about getting a dog and babysitting you?” 

The younger one let out a loud laugh. He couldn’t believe what his friend was saying. If anything, it had been the exact opposite. Jungwon had been taking care of Jake for their entire friendship. “Get a dog then. But I get to name it.” 

“Why do you get to name it?” 

“Because we are going to raise it together!” 

“No we aren’t!” 

Jungwon got up from where he was sitting and started to run back towards the house, “Mom! Jake doesn’t want to raise a dog with me!” 

“Jake, raise a dog with your brother!”

masterlist! ☆ next! ☆ previous!

Tag list is open! Send an ask to be added! : @laylasbunbunny

[bucknastysbabe]

Can I have one where Aegon has married his new wife who he thinks is really uptight and a prude only when it gets to the bedding ceremony (no one watching) and it turns out she’s just as kinky if not kinkier than him which makes him like fall for her instantly. She’s the definition of angel in the streets but freak in the sheets. Can it maybe also end with aegon either now realising he loves her or telling her he loves her

So I reused me Celtigar uptight reader bc I love her. Also slipped some small dick truthing in there. Hope you enjoy!

Continued from

Crab in the sand, conquer a man - Celtigar 101

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Misogyny, asshole Aegon, horrid bedding ceremonies, Aegon has a lil wee wee, creampie, pnv!sex, premature ejac, Celtigar said: when in doubt, be a bitch! Confessions of love

After what seemed like a breakthrough with you and Aegon it promptly turned back into the mummer’s farce. Whoring, drinking, the usual. The wedding was upon you. Today. Surrounded by tittering handmaidens, dreamy Helaena, and the watchful eye of Queen Alicent above all.

You sipped on your wine, contemplating the last few moons. After the dolt had crawled to your knees and begged for forgiveness— even admitted deep seeded insecurities, he went back to carousing the Street of Silk. You about sailed back to Claw Isle when you’d overheard some squire boys.

“Prince Aegon says she’s like to have pinchers in her cunny!”

The other one snorted, “I wouldn’t doubt it, face all screwed up around the keep. Probably hurts the poor wench.”

You blinked back into reality when one of the handmaidens told you not to crack your chalice. Indeed, your bejeweled hand was strained with pressure. You apologized, “Sorry, nerves tis’ all.” The ladies got back in their usual tizzy. They didn’t have to marry a lecherous lackwit.

Your dress was gorgeous though. You felt pretty. Finally after years of knobby knees and bee stings for tits your Rosby side kicked in. Curves, huzzah! Which didn’t draw anything but a drunken grope and sleazy comment from Aegon.

You’d written to your grandfather multitudes of times to no avail. He told you to be a good Celtigar and wait to feed. Hmph.

The dress though, the dress was much better than this horrid day. It was a coarse silk from Essos, the sleeves were loose and dyed a brilliant scarlet. The neckline was of the same color and jewels. Your locks were braided up into a net with the same gems. The maiden cloak hung like a dragon in the corner; gorgeous but dangerous.

It represented the true loss of your body, that one untouched place given up to an idiot. Abruptly standing up you stalked to the cloak. You held back tears while petting the ermine, tracing the sigil of Celtigar, fingering the rubies. Taking a deep breath in you returned to the chair for further treatment.

Standing in the grand throne room had your knees weak. You could see your family proud up in the front, all smiles from Bartimos. You kept your head down, eyes plastered to Aegon’s neckline. He stood stiffly, surprisingly not drunk for the wedding. The septon murmured some things, you both repeated them, then Aegon moved.

You swallowed down the panic as Your father stepped in to remove your maiden’s cloak. The lack of weight made you feel naked for all to see. The fight to hold back tears began again. Aegon moved behind your shaking frame next. On came the heavier Targaryen cloak, scarlet wool and black fur, even dragon’s scales embedded into their sigil.

“With this kiss I pledge my love…,”

Aegon’s hands were wildly trembling as he cupped your face. The kiss was chaste, only a slight movement of dry lips. They separated to share a weighted look. The septon cheered, “One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever!”

The crowd lit into a frenzy, cheering and calling for the festivities. Aegon turned his violet eyes on you, a quirk of his lips and a squeeze of your hand to indicate he wasn’t truly miserable. You smiled back and let him lead you to the feast.

The pair of you were seated at the head of the table, even the King and Queen at the side. Rhaenyra looked dismissive and Daemon was laughing about something with Viserys. Aemond looked downright jolly— a scary sight. Aegon had shoved meager food down his throat, slamming back the Arbor Red.

Viserys made some announcements and good tidings before allowing you two to begin the dance. Aegon and you once again were face to face, posed for the first notes. You scoffed, “If you get drunk enough then maybe you won’t feel my pinchers, lord husband.” Step back, hold out arms, palm to palm.

He sputtered indignantly, “Where did you hear that?”

Spin closer, one, two.

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

Step back, palms out, side, side, step in.

He grinned, “I’m sure you’ll be fine and dandy for the bedding ceremony.”

Spin away to the next. You called over your shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll be able to get it up my Prince!” He coughed, pale face going blotchy.

Aemond’s smirking face looked down at you while he led you two in the line. He hummed, “Brother dear is going to soil himself he’s so beside about the bedding nonsense.”

You laughed, “They don’t watch that part Aemond.”

He enigmatically replied, “I believe that’s the issue, Celtigar.”

The next hours were spent dancing, drinking, and catching up with the Celtigars. Which was a highlight so far. You missed your family dearly. Even if you held a grudge for your grandfather. It passed when he warbled, “My beautiful girl, a princess.” He hugged you tightly before the bellow of some drunken lord echoed.

“TIME TO GET THE GIRL BEDDED!”

“PRINCE AEGON FINALLY FUCKS A LADY!”

A ribald song erupted from the crowd. You clung to Bartimos in fear but was torn away, watching his liver spotted hands disappear from sight. Between the yells of the men, you could hear the ladies coo at Aegon’s raucous laughter. Big hands tore at your nice dress, exposing your teats and belly.

Aegon snorted, “She’s going to be in for a surprise! Riding the dragon!”

The men hauling you had your dress ripped to shreds before depositing you onto the grand bed. Aegon was shoved in after. Even with the deafening noise outside the room felt empty. The prince was naked too, an embarrassed flush suffusing his pale skin. You had pulled up some covers.

“How romantic. Come on then,” you beckoned.

Remaining quiet Aegon crawled onto the bed, pink cock half-hard. He stopped, only a clammy palm around your wrist. Nervous eyes searched your own, the Prince biting his plump lips. You narrowed your eyes and hissed, “You fuck all of King’s Landing, probably going to infect me with a pox, and just stare like a cow now? Gods above Aegon!”

He pouted and crossed his arms. The brat muttered, “This is different!” Exasperated you threw your hands up, “How is this different?”

“Because I like you.”

“What? Speak idiot!,” you barked.

“Because I care for you Crab!,” he shouted back, face going more red.

You blinked at him. Then pondered the situation. Frankly his idiocy made you want to slap the brat around. Wait. Slapping Aegon around sounded splendid. So very splendid your loins began to ache. As any experienced woman would, you snatched your new husband by the hair and yanked forward.

Aegon landed between your legs with a high yelp, eyes going comically wide. He whined, “What the hell?” You shoved down the blanket separating you two and spread your legs. Aegon groaned at the sight of your tits and puffy cunt. Grabbing his plump cheeks you asked, “Do I please you? Does that look like fucking pincers to you?”

He nodded miserably, lips smushed from your iron grip. You sighed at the feeling of his cock twitching against your entrance. Taking your own gander you wrapped an inquisitive hand around his stiff flesh, giving a couple of pumps.

“It can’t be this small can it?,” you blurted.

Aegon shouted into your tits, palms groping roughly, “THASWHAIWASAFRAIDOF!”

You grinned slowly, still jerking his cute little cock. You purred, “Poor little prince’s cocklet. Don’t worry, I know you’ll please me won’t you?

Tears soaked your collarbone as he rasped, “Yesss- promise.” You snickered again at the entire situation, seizing up those pretty lips of his.

He whimpered into your wet mouth, eyes red and watery, “C-can I fuck you princess? M’sorry it’s small.” Poor baby seemed genuinely sad about his situation. You cooed, scratching sweaty white locks, “Be a nice boy like you promised and I’ll let you fuck me alll the time my prince.”

He beamed, head nodding jerkily, “M’please I’ll be so so so good, lemme fuck you sweets pleaaase!”

You cracked the flat of your palm on his flank and teased, “Get to it then. Doubt it’ll hurt.” With a broken noise, Aegon slid into your perfect slick cunt. He tightened his hold on you, gritting through the pleasure. You lied meanly, pussy wetter than ever, “Poor baby, I can’t even feel it.”Aegon furrowed his brow and tried about three angry pumps before splattering your cunt with seed. He wailed, face screwed up, “Ah- ahhh-Ah Love you! Oh my gods I love you- feel so good- oh gods fuck!”

Aegon was shivering head to toe, babbling about his love for you. That made you ache in more than one place. You pressed little kisses to his drooling lips and red cheeks, savoring the moment. He collapsed into a sweaty heap on top of you, panting.

“I think I love you too. Once you get your empty head down between my thighs and clean up your mess, puppy.”