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shysneeze · 3 years

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Art Gallery Shenanigans (Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader)

Description: Remus takes the reader to an art gallery for their first date and is sufficiently flustered about it.

(from this request from @ribbons-in-your-hair hope i did it justice🥺)

Warnings: none that i can think of, some confrontation? Remus is nervous but it’s really just pure fluff

*middle image in header is painting mentioned later*

taglist: @pxroxide-prinxcesss @girl22334, @amourtentiaa

Remus has resorted to people watching in a bid to distract himself from the anxiety of waiting. It’s not that (Y/N) is particularly late, only a minute has ticked past their original meeting time and a logical part of him know she’s on her way, but a less logical and more nervous part of him can’t help but wonder if she’s decided last minute that he’s not her type.

He busies himself with his surroundings, the contemplative muggle art students, the grumbling children too young to appreciate all of it and their parents ignoring them in the desperate attempt for some sophisticated ‘me time’. He stifles a laugh at the fearful look on the underpaid staff members’ faces as they watch a child go to touch a statue with his grubby fingers.

A minute later, the hurried echo of someone’s foot steps against the museum’s high ceilings approaching pulls him from his distraction. The sight of her jogging towards him pulls a relieved breath from his lips and brings on a grin.

“Sorry I’m late!” (Y/N) exhales. “I got a bit muddled with my directions - muggle London is complicated.”

He grimaces subtly to himself, blinking at her sheepishly.

“Perhaps I should have picked you and we could have travelled together.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She beams at him before adding, “I’m sure you can walk me back?”

Remus’ eyes brighten, something warming in his chest at the realisation she’s thought as far as beyond the date, has imagined it going well enough that she wants him to walk to her home, or at least to Diagon Alley where they can Floo home safely. He nods, possibly too enthusiastically, and her gives him a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“Great!”

They stand there for a second too long just staring at each other with ridiculous smiles. Then, something in the back of Remus mind (sounding distinctly like Sirius teasing him) forces him to clear his throat and look away with a slight blush.

“Should we go then?” He nods towards the various exhibits.

“Oh, yes, of course.” She nods, similarly flustered, “Lead the way, Mr Tour Guide.”

Moving from the foyer area towards the exhibits sees a change in atmosphere from the noisy entrance hall . A silence finds them that feels almost sacred, like to break it would break some unspoken art viewer rule that one mustn’t so much as breathe too loud, else distracting everyone else in the room.

He can feel the pamphlet, grabbed earlier from the information desk, is curled tightly in his hands, and he can’t help but fidget with it as they walk, worrying slightly that this silence does take away the point of a first date. He almost asks her as such.

“hey, is it weird we’re not talking?’

However, as they pace slowly through the exhibits, stopping momentarily to stare at the paintings, a smile finds his lips. (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind at all, her eyes are wide with wonder as they stare up at the colours and stories each painting holds.

It doesn’t take him long to realise that, for the most part, he’s found himself looking to (Y/N) more than the art, watching her eyes scan each painting, smiling at the twinkle that finds her eyes. He’s pretty sure he’s not missing much though, nothing more deserving of his attention.

“They’re amazing.” (Y/N) exhales softly at one point, “It’s hard to believe some of them were painted so long ago.”

“Huh?” Remus blinks, blush rising to his cheeks when she turns to find his eyes. “Oh, yeah.”

She gives him a cheeky grin before turning to the painting again, and this time, Remus mimics her action to look at the painting for himself. He finds himself staring at it for a second rather contemplatively, part of an act perhaps now that he can feel (Y/N) staring at him from the corner of her eye.

“It looks a bit like the Hogwarts Express...” She whispers, “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, actually,” Remus nods, eyes dropping to the small plaque underneath the painting’s frame, “Steam, Speed and Steel... J.M.W Turner.”

(Y/N) nods, rather intrigued by it now. Remus’ attempt to keep his eyes only on the painting are soiled by the small smile that is climbing the cheeks of the girl by his side, and he can’t help the warmth that floods his chest at the sight.

“I’m just thinking about the train to Hogwarts.” She explains in response to his curious eyes, not taking her own from the painting of the train crossing the viaduct, smothered in steam, “It’s where I first realised I had a crush on you, Remus.”

“You did?” He gulps.

“Yeah,” She chuckles breathlessly, “Last year... Your friends were late and you were sitting there alone and you were reading a book but you kept making these weird facial expressions,” She grins, “And I thought ‘ugh, this nerd... he’s just my bloody type’.”

He feigns a hurt look, but the grin climbing his cheeks gives him away. She turns now to meet his eyes with an embarrassed sort of smile and a shrug as if to say ‘what else can you do about it?’. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“I hope you know that today, you’ve been the biggest nerd in the room.” He bites a laugh. “Gushing about paintings and all that.”

“You’re the one who suggested an art gallery.” She laughs.

“Yes, but I think I’m lucky if I’ve looked at more than two paintings since I arrived.”

“Yeah?” She tilts her head dopily, “How come?”

“I’ve been watching you all day instead.”

Her resolve to seem smug cracks and her face softens completely, moving to push him gently as a distraction from the flustered embarrassment taking hold of her expression.

“You sap.”

“You liked it though,” He nudges her shoulder with a chuckle, “Don’t lie.”

“Hmm.”

Their soft laughter fills the space between them, eyes once again held in each other’s gaze. Only once their gentle chuckles have subsided do they appear to realise how they’ve gravitated to one another, so close (Y/N) can hear his nervous gulp.

When his eyes dart sheepishly to her lips, she lets out a shaky breath, the products of a newly establish nervous tension between them. Then, making his eyes light up instantly, she nods.

A second later, her cheeks are cupped in his warm hands and their eyes are fluttering shut. Lips meet tentatively, filled with the same nervous energy as everything has been all day, then his lips press firmly to her own in a kiss so breath taking she finds her fingers curling around the lapels of his denim jacket to steady herself.

“Merlin...” (Y/N) mutters once they’ve pulled apart, “Where have you been hiding that?”

“Keeping it for someone special.” Remus shrugs.

“You spend far too much time with Sirius,” She shakes her head, grinning at him nonetheless.

He’s about to kiss her again, hands falling to her waist, when an impatient sound disrupts them, a woman behind them clearing her throat accusatorily with her hand planted firmly on her hips. Both Remus and (Y/N) are reminded of Madam Pince for a moment.

“Excuse me,” She begins with a frown, “This is an art gallery.”

Remus’ eyes blow wide at her tone and (Y/N) drops her face to his chest to muffle the newly forming laughter that threatens to barrel from her throat. The woman continues in a furious rant on respect and appropriate art gallery behaviour as Remus splutters out apologies in response.

“Yes Ma’am -- I’m so sorry I just couldn’t help--” He chokes, “Sorry, Ma’am it won’t happen again-- we’re just leaving-- Sorry.”

Remus’s fingers intertwine through (Y/N)’s as the woman rambles, nodding apologetically as he pulls them both from the exhibit, (Y/N)’s face burried in his side, her shoulders shaking with laughter as the woman’s complaints follow them from the room.

“Bloody Hell,” He gasps the minute they are free. “She could give Pince a run for her money- oi, stop laughing at my misery!”

(Y/N)’s head is flung back instantly with a cackled laugh, only spurred onwards by her accidental snort. Remus can’t help but join her, both of them soon bent in a fit of giggles that sees them receiving the same disapproving looks from the staff as the grubby fingered child from earlier.

“You looked petrified, Remus.” She manages through a laugh, “Merlin’s beard.”

“You just left me to deal with it myself.” He complains before another laugh bursts from his lips. “Merlin, please don’t tell the boys.”

“I’ve already planned out the reenactment,” She shrugs unapologetically, “It was too good.”

“Mean.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you next time.” (Y/N) assures him.

“Next time?” Remus perks up, “You mean the crazy old lady didn’t scare you off?”

“Merlin, no.” (Y/N) grins, “It was kind of adorable watching you stammer your way out of it.”

“I’m dating a sadist.” He jokes sarcastically.

She shoves his side with an eye roll and squeezes the hand still in her own. She gives him a look, the one he’s been watching all day, that twinkly eyed look of amazement, and he almost leans into kiss her again right there.

“Do you want to go for a coffee at Diagon Alley?” He asks expectantly, “Before we get kicked out of the museum once and for all?”

“I would love that, Remus.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll get harrassed by someone else when I go to kiss you goodbye.” He jokes.

“Is that a promise at another one of those kisses?”

“Definitely.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus imagine #remus lupin imagine #remus imagines #remus lupin imagines #remus x you #marauders imagines #harry potter #moony x reader

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idontblushsrry · 3 years

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Do You Know That I Do Love You

Chapter 1: Do You Still Think Of Me Fondly?

Next>

Word Count:

Warnings: Some swearing, smut in later chapters

A/N: This is purely self indulgent at this point. I will get my black nobility/courtly romance fic and it just so happens to be with Han Ju-Do from Yona of the Dawn (great show if you ask me I think everyone should watch it and that it deserves more but, whateverrr) I don’t know how many chapters this is going to have, I thought 2 but maybe I’ll do 3 or 4 it all depends on what I feel like is gonna complete the story the best. Reader is black, she has a Korean last name to match with the rest of the show characters. Spoilers ahead for parts of Yona Of The Dawn anime/manga

A/N Pt.2: This is based off of the concept of courtly love but w tweaks bcus I have like no ability to stick with angst permanently, like if asked nicely, I’ll do a happy ending (Also Reader and Ju-do are both single so). This fic is also based of this song if you want to get into the vibe.

You’d been told tales of the Crimson Dragon Castle just nothing could’ve compared to the majesty of seeing it in person. The gates opened and guards announced your arrival as your carriage pulled inside. You stared in awe at the sheer size of it while your attendants whispered something to each other that you didn’t quite pick up on.

“What was that?”

You turned and your attendants immediately went silent, squirming and failing to meet your gaze each time you tried to capture them in it.

“Nothing milady just the talk of lowly servants that you shouldn’t concern yourself with.”

You could tell though from the guilt in her tone and the way the other attendant looked as though you’d have her thrown out if you heard what she said that you knew they were discussing the reason you’d even come to the palace. You were much too old to be an unmarried woman and the constant rumours of your status ranged in believability, the most outrageous being that you were a succubus and having a husband would get in the way of your appetites.

When you’d heard it, that made you cackle because you were the furthest thing from a succubus.

It’s not like you felt ashamed of being a virgin, you were a grown woman after all, and it’s not as though you were the sole heir to your family’s name. You had plenty of siblings to carry on the family name. The issue lied in the fact that you were the oldest, your family tradition dictated that none shall marry before the oldest and as such you’d been on the receiving end of anger from your siblings, parents, potential suitors, and all in between.

When your father first proposed the idea of marriage to you, many of your siblings were still too young to care or remember. You could feel the concern coming from both of your parents as they urged you to meet with suitors from other clans and families. And you could feel their growing rage as you rejected one after another.

Now nearing two decades later, your siblings, the ones who were unconcerned with your marital status so long ago were now resentful of you. Many of them had approached you individually and together with their grievances, claiming you were holding the family back and restraining them from true love, all the things you’d heard before.

They’d brought those same complaints to father and he brought up the idea of a palace visit to you. No not in so few words nor with such direct intent but the message was there. He’d brought the idea up while you fed the fish in your private reserve.

‘I think that this place is too stifling of your abilities my dear. I’d like for you to go to the Crimson Dragon Palace in my stead, I’m getting rather old and the whole thing is nothing but a diplomatic affair anyways, I’m sure you can handle it.’ You were going to turn down his offer. Not consciously out of spite but because you knew what he wanted you to do. His words seemed like the ones of a trusting father but the undertone of ‘return with a fiancé or I’ll disown you’ rang clear as a bell through your head. You may have been stubborn but you weren’t a fool, your family had grown impatient with your antics and if this behavior continued, they’d send you packing without so much as a goodbye.

You’d contemplated that idea and thought up the pros and cons to being disowned. It wasn’t until you heard two maids whispering outside your room that night that you made your decision.

‘Poor Master Seong I heard that Lady (Y/N) is preventing him from meeting his heirs.’

‘Eh? What do you mean, how could she do that?’

‘She refuses to let any of her siblings get married and as the next clan head, any marriages from her siblings that occur before her own are forbidden.’

‘Wow! Really, then why won’t she just get married already?’

‘Who knows.’

By the following night you were in a carriage on your way to the castle. Coincidentally with the two maids that spoke ill of you that night. It seems that they still haven’t gained the ability to shut up even when it’s in their best interest.

The carriage pulled up to the guest exit and you didn’t have to wait long before the carriage was opened by one of the palace servants.

“Welcome Lady Seong”

You were rushed to yet another carriage that would take you to your quarters while your attendants followed someone else to the servants’ quarters. For the first time in the weeks it’d taken you to travel here, you could feel yourself begin to truly relax. The servant next to you was stiff with rigid and tense shoulders especially compared to your unladylike and unrefined composure. But, they were quiet. You weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and you didn’t particularly feel like talking to ease the tension in the carriage, so, you ignored it. Most of it was coming from the servant not knowing how to react to you anyways.

You closed your eyes to think of the last time you felt truly happy and all your defeated mind could conjure was an image of a chubby outstretched hand handing you a six-petaled flower.

“Milady? We’ve arrived at your quarters.”

You stepped out of the dark carriage into the courtyard of the place you’d be staying. Only to find that this courtyard was slightly nicer than you’d expected a standard nobles courtyard to be. There was an abundance of flowers, rocks lining the foliage. A bridge that spanned a small river that begun with a waterfall. Birds, a gazebo lined with jewels in the far corner, and the fragrant scent of jasmine flowers.

The servant, seemingly unfazed by the extravagance, urged you to follow her with a motion of her head. Her feet leading you through the courtyard with practiced expertise, you managed to keep up with her strides by clutching your dress up some and resisting the urge to gawk at every element passing you by.

She brought you to a spacious room similarly sized as the room you slept in back home. The room was relatively bare save for a large bed pressed against the wall in the center of the room, a wardrobe, vanity and an incense holder among other things.

She turned to you and bowed before turning to leave. “Before you leave, what’s your name?”, she froze as though she wasn’t expecting you to actually speak to her. She turned back to you with a close eyed smile.

“My name? It’s Ha-Neul”

You’d received the first and arguably the most difficult of your diplomatic duties when within 3 days of your stay, you were being summoned by King Suwon. While the letter came as a shock to you, you nearly had a heart attack when you learned you’d be meeting in the King’s personal tea gardens. You’d take it as a compliment, however, you were 1) essentially all alone with no one to back you up should you fail to be adept at conversation and 2) you’d only met the new king as a boy and in passing, you were somewhat underprepared and knew nothing more of him than what you’d heard in passing.

‘No. Don’t think like that (Y/N)’, you looked at your reflection in the mirror, your braids hung down, the tight coils of your hair wrapped up inside of them as they hung down from your scalp to frame your face. ‘You are more than capable, if it weren’t for your intelligence, you wouldn’t have made it this far. You can do this.’ You took a look at your outfit. It was unfit to meet the king. But before you could begin working yourself up into another nervous tizzy, Ha-neul knocked on your door, her consistent rapping against it breaking you out of your anxious reverie.

Ha-Neul was truly a miracle worker. She’d managed to make your previously tense body appear completely calm and put together with a few twists of her wrists and some careful thought into what she’d have you wear to meet with the king.

By the time the carriage had stopped, the anxiety in your gut had settled to a deep thrum that would remind you of its presence at the very center of your being but wouldn’t seize control of your body. This mercy provided by your anxiety allowed you to put one foot in front of the other like you’d done since you were a child, albeit with a more conscious effort.

You’re led by a flurry of servants and guards to where Suwon was sitting so tranquilly in his tea gardens. It was amazing how much he’d grown since you’d last seen him but those same features he had as a child seemed to have aged with his spirit. You didn’t know why but you got this deep guttural feeling that he’d done something akin to a betrayal of himself. It showed oh so subtly in the way he drank his tea with an air of practiced indifference that he tried to cover with a layer of oversaturated artificial happiness.

“Lady Seong, it’s good to see you. I hope your quarters are to your liking.”

Showtime.

You bowed respectfully to him before replying, “Yes, the room is lovely and even more so the courtyard. I’d love to speak with the person who designed it. How have you been your majesty?”

You’d hoped flattery would work with him, all your cues were being taken from him but it was near impossible to get a read on him. You kept your tone and demeanor light and cheery but eve still that was all he was giving you. It was like he was trying to gauge you at the same time.

Oh, you realized embarrassingly belatedly, this is a test.

The new king couldn’t afford any threats to his power and securing allyship while weeding out untrustworthy people was the most effective way for him to achieve that in lieu of starting a full-scale war.

But Kouka didn’t need that.

Since you were attending in your father’s stead, he’s likely assumed that you’re the new head of your clan, ‘If only he knew’.

Well, if it’s a test he wants then a test he’ll get. Two could play that game and you always were very good at mind games.

It feels as though it’s been about 30 minutes of you and King Suwon exchanging formalities, trying to see who’d crack. But finally, the tea and snack get delivered and you realize that for now, you’d reached a stalemate with the King. You could count it as a win but judging from the fact you still couldn’t tell what he was thinking, you mentally conceded to the standstill with him, and from the sigh he let out it seems he’s resigned himself to the same fate.

“Let’s eat then shall we.” he says good-naturedly, like the careful tension of your previous exchange never happened, so you nod in agreement. Waiting for him to take the first bite and sip before following suit. You close your eyes and simply enjoy the gentle floral taste and aroma of the tea. You take a moment of respite in the tea and neglect your surroundings for a moment.

You hear big clunky footsteps hurry their way down the hallway you and Suwon are staying in before, “My King, I apologize for my lateness, and while inexcusable, I hope that you can forgive me.”

You recognize that voice, you move to open your eyes at the same time the man stands up and before King Suwon can get his answer out, you interrupt him with “Ju...do?”

He looks down at you with a sneer looking ready to give you a tongue- lashing for interrupting the King and calling him out of his station. Before a look of recognition flashes in his eyes and he looks away hurriedly, calling your name with a formal “Lady Seong, I didn’t know you were at the castle."

Ok, ouch. Few things hurt worse than the person you’d spent an embarrassing amount of time fawning over as a teenager (and young adult) dismissing you with such a dismissive and cold formality.

You’d already fucked up by interrupting the King and you weren’t about to fuck up again by not responding to a General when directly addressed by one. “I didn’t know you were at the castle either, General.” If you were nothing more than a formality to him, then he’d be nothing more than a formality to you.

Yes you were aware of how petty and flimsy that logic was. He hadn’t seen you in years, of course he was going to be cordial with you. But the other part of you, the person who was heartbroken by the same man who stood in front of you right now, someone that you thought you buried long ago, hoped that calling him General hurt just as much as hearing him call you anything but (Y/N).

#yona of the dawn imagines #black reader #x black reader #han judo #han judo yona of the dawn #akatsuki no yona #general judo x reader #han judo x reader #yona of the dawn x reader #general judo #general han judo #pls lmk if yall like this #or if you watch yotd #there isnt a really big fandom for it and i am searching pls #idontblushsrry #x reader #anime imagines #imagines #smut

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yoosungisbabie · 4 years

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not what i expected - mystictober day 29

jumin x mc

rating: G

prompt: villain au / {royalty}

warnings: none♡

word count: 3,114

ao3 link

[ ko-fi | paypal ]

Prince Jumin expects what he’s always gotten, but she’s nothing like he could ever imagine.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Prince Jumin’s patience was wearing thin.

“Father, I explicitly recall asking you not to invite her,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while the king simply chuckled to himself. He then crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at Jumin’s stepmother who had turned up her nose at the situation and the crowd gathering below them.

“I know what’s best for my son,” he spoke confidently, only feeding the flame of Jumin’s exasperation.

“I have no need for a queen, do you not understand?” he asked through his teeth, scanning the crowd anxiously. He had no desire to be wed to any woman, let alone a princess of his father’s choosing. The king’s judgment with women was abhorrent, as seen by the multiple queens and stepmothers to the prince. They all wanted the power, luxury, and grandeur that came with royalty, and Jumin detested them for it. He always would.

“Enough, boy. Control yourself,” his father hissed, making Jumin take a deep breath to calm himself and think rationally. The princess in question had already been invited to the ball being held there. In fact, the two men had only just been informed of her arrival.

Jumin didn’t know much about her because he made an effort to forgo any information imparted to him. She was from a small, neighboring kingdom with a reputable standing, but that was of little importance. She would undoubtedly be like every other young woman thrust upon him by his foolish father. They were all the same.

Besides, if Jumin were to assume the throne, he would much rather focus on the important matters of ruling. He occupied his time in the library most days, and when that became slightly tiresome, he met with officials and learned about the needs of the people. It was his duty as the heir, and he firmly believed he didn’t need someone by his side.

The guests below began moving through to the ballroom while Jumin, his father, and his stepmother all watched from the balcony above the courtyard.

“Ah! I believe she is just there, by the fountain,” the king spoke excitedly, nodding his head downwards. Jumin’s eyes wandered until he found the princess, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to size her up. Her dress was not nearly as gaudy as he’d anticipated, and she was only accompanied by one attendant instead of the ensemble that he’d learned to expect.

“Come,” his father said calmly, the tone contrasting with Jumin’s tense demeanor. He was beckoned inside and down the grand staircase to meet her, and he tried not to let his eyes roll too far back in his head. He would rather tend to the stables than entertain a potential marriage partner.

They stood just inside the doors to meet her as the music for the ball began to swell. Jumin held his tongue even though he ached to make another displeased comment, knowing that he would only irritate his father further if he continued. He had no choice but to be a gracious host, no matter what his true conjecture was.

He observed as the princess ascended the last few steps, releasing the hold she had on the skirt of her gown. She met them with a soft smile, her footsteps echoing against the polished floors noisily.

However, as Jumin watched her approach, he wasn’t as repulsed as he’d prepared himself to be. Her dress looked masterfully crafted, and it was a simple cream color with beading and accents that complemented the silhouette of the gown. Her shoulders were exposed, the line of her collarbone casting a pleasant array of shadows that reminded him of a painting he’d studied the previous month. Her hair was pulled back just enough to reveal her face and ears, and her hands were clasped together at her waist properly. As Jumin surveyed her, he was surprised to find her particularly pleasing to look at.

When she stopped to curtsy in front of them respectfully, he was taken aback; he hadn’t noticed her increasing proximity or the passage of time.

“Your highness,” she said gently, casting a quick glance to the king before she shifted her gaze to the floor.

“Welcome,” his father smiled, eyeing his son with an expectant visage.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Jumin recited monotonously, watching as she straightened herself once more and smiled softly when she met his eyes.

“The pleasure is mine,” she replied. He tried to measure the tolerability of her voice, but the music drifting from the ballroom had become loud and incessant. He glanced away, watching his father pivot to lead their guest toward the noise.

“Prince Jumin will accompany you throughout the evening. I trust you will make this a most enjoyable visit for her, my son?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at Jumin. He nodded, stifling a yawn before offering his arm to the princess. She stepped forward, meeting him at his side and linking her arm with his.

There was a palpable silence as they walked, the orchestral music from the ballroom growing louder with every step. His mind wandered back to the nook he was so fond of in the library until he was pulled back by a previously absent aroma. He quickly surmised that it was the perfume of the woman clinging to his arm, but it didn’t overpower his senses and instead prompted him to picture the bed of lavender bushes in the west garden.

He ignored the strange feeling that made the corners of his mouth twitch, focusing on entering the ballroom without stumbling. The crowd of people gathered before them turned to bow, and he felt the grasp around his arm tighten slightly. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, seeing that she seemed rather uncomfortable. Perhaps she was embarrassed to be in front of so many people, but the thought seemed odd to him. It was usually in front of his father that young ladies tended to seize up.

Everyone resumed their activities as his father and stepmother proceeded to sit and watch over the gathering, leaving the two of them alone. She gently pulled away from him, clasping her hands together once more and smiling at him.

“Would you like to get a drink?” she asked, pursing her lips when he looked down to meet her eyes. Something about the brightness of her gaze was different from his expectations. It seemed that she embodied that notion.

“I’ll be happy to accompany you, Princess,” he nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and gesturing for her to follow behind him. The gentle clicking of her shoes trailed after him just below the sound of the music, and they soon arrived at the table where refreshments were being served. She took a drink, sipping it quietly and watching as those gathered in the middle of the room partook in another dance.

“How are you today, Prince Jumin?” he heard, looking back down at his guest to see if he’d imagined it. She gazed up at him curiously, and it made his heartbeat falter momentarily. He paused for a moment to try and recall the last time someone had asked him that question. His eyebrows moved together as he watched her for a short minute more, but then she giggled, taking another sip of her drink before meeting his inquisitive and persistent stare.

“Usually one would reply to a question posed to them,” she jested, taking him by surprise again. He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if she spoke to everyone in her company similarly. Despite the reprimanding he imagined hearing from his father if he were to ever do the same, it nearly drew laughter from him.

“I’m well today,” he responded, not recognizing the warmth in his voice despite the lie. He wanted to express how dreadfully bored he was, but it was neither the time nor the place to do so. Her eyes narrowed at him, and her nose scrunched slightly, making him want to stare for longer than was polite.

“I don’t believe you,” she smiled, finishing what little she had left of her drink and placing her empty glass down. He was entirely perplexed by her, a feeling of innocent curiosity filling his chest. He shook his head to try and clear the haze that had settled over his judgments, briefly glancing at his father. He regretted doing so, recognizing that the gestures the king was making meant he wanted Jumin to lead the princess in a dance. He had no right to refuse, however, so he extended a hand towards her reluctantly.

“Would you do me the pleasure of allowing me this next dance?” he asked, wishing the request hadn’t come out sounding so eager. He had never been fond of dancing, but he was well trained in the art.

He watched as her eyebrows raised slowly. She took his hand, and he observed the size of it compared to his before he led her towards the gathering of people. A clearing was made for the two of them, Jumin being well aware of all the stares pointed at both him and the princess in his care.

He politely held her waist, lifting her hand just as the orchestra started their next piece. They began to move as a pair, and it wasn’t long before he was able to appreciate the lightness with which she moved. Her dress seemed to float just above the floor, and her movements were gracefully fluid. He noticed the skill she possessed to be able to flawlessly match her pace to his own, and that discovery brought him to realize that her eyes were trained on his. He began to feel less than suitable to lead her, confident that he’d never met a more talented dancing partner. With nearly every marriage candidate he’d entertained at a ball, there had been one too many times that his foot had become a replacement for the floor.

The innocence and perceptiveness of her gaze only reinforced his feelings of inferiority. He tried to look elsewhere but found that the guests’ stares and his father’s smile were bothersome. So he focused on her once more.

“It’s lovely here,” she said over the music. He glanced around the spacious room again, trying to ignore the insistent stares and discover what she found pleasing.

“I suppose,” he replied shortly, pressing his lips together. “I’m accustomed to this place.” She laughed again, a tinkling noise that continued to draw his attention despite the jarring noises attempting to cover it.

“Though spinning so dizzyingly like this is breathtaking,” she sighed, lifting her hand from his shoulder to briefly point upwards to where she gazed. “Look at all the lights!” He blinked in puzzlement, craning his neck heavenward and watching as the light reflecting off the chandelier swirled and faded together into a sight he’d never seen before.

Just as he was about to comment on its beauty, he stumbled over his own feet, righting himself quickly and catching her by the waist before she could fall to the floor. An awful pressure settled in his core; he expected her to be offended by his lack of coordination and poise like others had been when he had performed inadequately. But the pairs around them continued dancing, and his fearful eyes met her sparkling gaze as she let out that delightful laugh once more.

“M-my apologies,” he stuttered, breathing out quickly and helping her stand on her own two feet. She pressed a few fingers to her lips, seeming to hold back a wider smile.

“Maybe we should continue our dance at a later time,” he suggested, gesturing for her to leave the crowd with him. She used a gentle hand to grip his wrist, startling him slightly.

“Would you like to get some fresh air?” she asked, watching him with eyes that seemed to pierce right through him. He blinked at her in surprise, noticing how warm it had become in the ballroom.

“That sounds pleasant. Allow me to show you the way,” he said, letting himself smile briefly as he offered his arm to her once more. She returned his smile, and the two of them exited the ballroom graciously. He didn’t bother finding his father’s gaze, willing to argue that he was continuing to do as he was told by entertaining his guest.

Jumin led her through a few corridors before pushing open a door to a terrace that overlooked the south garden. They walked arm in arm until they reached the railing, and he found himself staring as he leaned out towards the sights, taking in a deep, relieved breath.

“It’s so much quieter out here,” she spoke softly. He turned towards her, finding that her angelic voice stirred an unfamiliar warmth in him. With the sound of the orchestra far in the distance, she didn’t have to raise her voice to be heard. A strange desire to hear her speak for many minutes made itself present, and he was stunned to be having such a thought.

As he continued to study her, he admired the way the moonlight bathed her skin in an ethereal glow. The expanse of her shoulders and neck looked soft to the touch, and her lips were upturned into an effortless smile. Wisps of her hair had come loose to frame her face, dancing in the wind mesmerizingly.

“I’m sorry about this,” was what she said next with her delicate voice, making him frown as his eyes ran over her entirety once more.

“About what exactly?” he wondered, leaning away slightly. He hadn’t realized he’d been drawn so near to her side.

“This arrangement for marriage,” she answered softly, her eyes falling. He watched her, wondering why she felt the need to apologize to him. It had been the decision of their parents with no concern for their own wants.

“Why are you sorry?” he voiced, leaning against the railing slightly to allow himself a better view of her expression. She pursed her lips, glancing at him briefly.

“It does not align with my desires nor, I assume, with yours,” she spoke, playing with her fingers as her hands rested atop the stone railing. “I long to find true love,” she breathed as she lifted her eyes to the sky that danced with starlight. The notion of true love felt like a fairytale to him, but something warm stirred in his chest when it was her that spoke those words.

“Though you do seem very kind,” she smiled, finally resting her gentle eyes on him once more. He lifted an eyebrow, trying to recall what he’d done in her presence that conveyed kindness.

“Do I?” he asked, watching her face soften. She turned slightly towards him, her insistent gaze making him strangely restless in the spot where he stood.

“Yes,” she breathed, tilting her head slightly. “You are willing to accompany me all night despite your wishes to be elsewhere,” she stated simply, watching his lips part in surprise.

“You were able to tell?” She lifted her hand to giggle behind it, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks as she blinked at him.

“It was plainly written on your face,” she smirked, making him frown slightly.

“No one has been able to perceive my thoughts so clearly,” he breathed, searching her eyes as if she would fade away like a dream. “Except…” He trailed off, remembering his childhood friend that he longed to see again.

“It’s okay,” she smiled, placing one of her hands over his. “I’m sure you’d rather forget this evening.” Her face fell slightly, making his abdomen tighten as an urge to divulge the entirety of his thoughts to her arose.

“Actually, I would rather I didn’t,” he spoke quickly, feeling a heat settle upon his cheeks from his honesty. She peered up at him, looking confused. He wanted to quell her uncertainty, but he found it hard to form a statement that encompassed every sensation that she made swell in his chest.

“You’re very agreeable,” was what spilled from his lips, but the look she gave him only made his cheeks burn hotter.

“As are you,” she replied, still sounding unsure of his intentions. He stopped for a moment and asked himself if he was being logical, but the question seemed almost irrelevant at that moment, there with her beneath the stars.

“Perhaps…” he started, his voice fading as he met her wide-eyed gaze. He shook his head, laughing to himself and briefly wondering if he’d been poisoned.

“Please excuse me. I’m going to say something strange,” he prefaced, watching as she narrowed her eyes at him. But he intended to push forward despite the rapid rhythm of his heart.

Just before he could speak his mind, she was caught up in laughter, making him pause hesitantly.

“I can anticipate what you’re going to propose, and I respectfully decline,” she smiled, a distant look in her eyes. He felt his confidence falter at her denial, but the softness of the color of her eyes in the moonlight stirred a playfulness and impulsivity in him that he didn’t know he could feel.

“You don’t believe it’s possible for you to fall in love with me?” he replied, a wide smile gracing his lips. It grew even wider when her lips parted in shock, her cheeks growing pink as she averted her gaze. She attempted to form a few sentences, but she’d become too flustered by his boldness.

After a moment of his gut feeling strangely fuzzy, she finally met his expectant stare.

“My dear prince,” she spoke lightly, bowing her head. She lifted it once more, gazing at him facetiously. “That sounds like a challenge.” Her teasing kept the bright grin on his face, and he couldn’t help but play along.

“Do you accept?” he asked quietly, extending his hand out to receive hers. He had no idea what he was thinking, but he knew he never wanted to forget the look on her face in that moment.

She placed her hand in his, biting her bottom lip and keeping him in his anticipation.

“Yes,” she said, a shy smile growing on her lips. The simple word nearly made him falter, but he gathered himself and leaned down, pressing a sealing kiss to the back of her soft hand. He dared to meet her eyes once more, seeing a beautifully flustered expression waiting there for him.

“My princess,” he murmured blissfully, standing to offer his arm once more. She took it, hiding her face bashfully and making his heart palpitate in his chest as he led her back inside.

~~~~~

gah i love writing royalty au stuff. i hope you enjoyed! let me know what you thought, and thank you so much for taking the time to read this! i really appreciate it ♡

only a couple more days of mystictober left, and then we move onto hantober ♡

#mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #mysme #mm #jumin han #han jumin #jumin #my writing #mystictober #mystictober2020 #juminxreader #jumin x reader #juminxmc #jumin x mc #mysme jumin #royalty #royalty au #au #mysme au

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