Shinsou tilts his head, strands of lavender hair brushing against his face. “Was it not you who told me to wake you the moment it was light outside?”

You had. But that’s neither here nor there. You tell him as much, and Shinsou rolls his eyes. “You have about a million things to do today. An early start is a good one.”

“Oh, alright.” 

Shinsou stands at the foot of your bed, hands clasped behind his back. “Shall I prepare your morning tea?”

“Yes, please.” You huff, finally getting up out of bed. 

Shinsou disappears for a moment, and returns carefully carrying a tray. You’re not surprised with the speed it takes him to produce it. He knows your morning routine better than you do, and you’re sure he has it ready before you even tell him you want it.

The floor is cold against your bare feet when you finally stand, and you thank him softly as you grab the cup, taking a long sip. You sigh happily, feeling the warmth spread through you. 

You place the cup back on the tray, and clap your hands together determinedly. “Okay. What is on my agenda today?”

You walk over to your closet, surveying your dresses and skirts. When you were younger, your father insisted you had maids dress you and bathe you and practically breathe down your neck constantly. You hated every second of it. The day you turned eighteen, you put your foot down, insistent that you didn’t need anyone helping you with anything anymore. 

Shinsou is the only exception.

“Well, you have a dress fitting at twelve o’clock, then your English lessons.” Shinsou rattles off. “Oh, and then, of course, your father’s ball in the evening.”

You frown, hands pausing where you’d been flitting through your clothes. “Another?”

“Another.” 

You sigh irritatedly. “I think I’ll be old and withered by the time he’s finished throwing them.”

Shinsou shrugs, leaning against your bedroom door. “It’s ball season. It’s to be expected.” 

You turn to Shinsou. “And it is still so tiresome and boring.” 

Shinsou snorts a laugh. “Why are you sulking so much? What’s the issue in dressing up and eating food?” 

You do sound a bit ridiculous. There’s thousands of girls who’d kill to be in the position you’re in, and here you are, complaining about being pampered.

“Apologies. I don’t mean to sound so spoiled.” You say sheepishly, turning back to your closet.

Shinsou smiles slightly. “Ever so humble, our princess.”

You pick out a dress and a corset, walking over and laying them across your bed. Your nightgown flutters around your legs, and it pillows around you as you sit down on the edge of your bed. You smooth your hands over the material. 

“Alright. Please leave, so I can change.”

“Are you sure you do not need any assistance?” Shinsou hums. “A proper butler should never leave his lady looking anything less than perfect.” 

You ignore the playful lilt to his voice, and the flush that spreads through your cheeks at being called his lady. You turn your head waving him off.

“I will be quite alright, thank you.” 

Shinsou sighs dejectedly, bowing. “Very well. I will be outside if you need me.”

You’re sure if people heard the way he speaks sometimes, when it’s just the two of you and there’s no one else around, he’d be fired on the spot. Maybe something worse, if your father was not in a forgiving mood. But you love it. He talks to you like you’re just Y/N, not a princess or royalty. You think it also helps that he’s easy on the eyes. 

Shinsou worked a few years in the King’s guard before he became your lord-in-waiting. There was an incident, you’d heard whispered in the halls of the castle, something that rendered him unable to fight. You’ve thought about asking him about it once or twice, but he gets awfully wistfully whenever you pass the new knights training in the grounds, so you decide not too. He was too good to lose, so your father appointed him as your butler and guard all in one.

That being said, the hard muscles and lean body he’d earned from all his training hadn’t yet faded. Not that you noticed it that much. You don’t like Shinsou just because he’s good-looking. It’s just nice to talk to a man who treats you like every other girl, and not untouchable royalty. Most men you speak to act like they’re one wrong word away from being banished from the kingdom, and the rest are more interested in becoming King then becoming anything meaningful to you.

And who are you to turn down a bit of harmless flirting?

You manage to get everything on by yourself, apart from your corset. You try, in vain, to tighten the intricate strings in the back, but you can barely see them from the mirror on your vanity. You sigh irritatedly, and call Shinsou back in.

The door opens almost instantly, and Shinsou steps inside, shooting you a smile. “You’ve called me back so quickly? I knew you couldn’t resist my expert services.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure. If that is what you need to believe.”

You hold the corset tightly against your chest. It’s not the first time he’s done this for you, but you still feel nervous at the exposed skin of your back and shoulders being so plainly in his view. Shinsou sees the loose laces and already knows what you need. 

“Turn around for me.” He murmurs. “Unless you’d rather stay half-dressed.”

You shoot him a look but turn anyway. Shinsou’s fingers brush against your back as he picks up the soft laces.

“So mouthy.” You tut and Shinsou huffs a laugh.

It’s still early, and the sunlight casts shadows over your room. Shinsou had opened your windows in the morning, so a cold breeze settles over your skin. You pretened that that is the reason for the goosebumps on your arms. You brace yourself as he tightens them, sucking in a breath. You’d think you’d get used to having your insides squished together in these things, but it never gets any easier. Shinsou’s hand trails higher, and you can feel the warmth of his skin on your own as he works. 

His breath ghosts against your ear as he leans in. “I think you like mouthy. It’s much more interesting.”

You don’t respond to that, mainly because you’re not sure you can without sounding as flustered as you feel.

He ties off the laces and smooths his hands down the soft material. “All finished.”

You look at yourself in the reflection of your bedroom mirror. This dress is one of your favourites. The material is so soft, layers of tulle and dark green fabric that puff around your legs. There’s jewels sewn into the lining, and when you step into the light they glint and shimmer. 

Shinsou’s hands leave your waist, almost reluctantly. “It’s a crime such a pretty dress is wasted on your morning duties.”

You smile slightly, brushing the material down. “Well, do not worry. I’m sure I’ll have a prettier dress to wear tonight. And I’m sure father has lined up enough suitors to ogle at me all they’d like.”

Shinsou can hear the bitterness in your tone, and you can feel his eyes on you as he takes a step back. “You don’t seem particularly excited about that.”

You regard yourself in the mirror, shaking your head. “Would anyone be? These men, they. They all have the same goal in mind, the same as my father: He’s very adamant that I find a husband sooner rather than later.” 

You fiddle with the fabric of your skirts, the material soft as you twirl it around your finger nervously. Shinsou walks forward, and you turn to face him. He unhooks your fingers from skirt, smiling slightly.

“You’re still young. You have time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not young. We are the same age, no?”

“Yes. There are very different expectations expected of us, though.” He muses. “But tonight will be fun.”

You cross your arms, glancing up at him. “It never is. You’re lucky. You only have to sit on the sidelines and watch the rest of us act a fool.”

“I’m only interested in watching one of you.” 

You wave him off, biting back a smile. 

He’s so close. Close enough that a few inches more and you’d be touching, and then you could finally do what your brain has been begging for since the first time you spoke. It lingers in your mind for longer than it should, and takes a good deal of effort to ignore.

Instead of doing anything stupid, you take a step back and pray that he ignores how nervous you look, that there’s a chance he doesn’t even notice it. 

“We- I should go. I’ve got a busy day ahead.” You smile faintly, grabbing your hairbrush from your dresser. 

If Shinsou has any protests about your dismissal of him, he doesn’t voice them. He only nods, moving to the door.

“I’ll be outside to escort you to the tailor once you are ready.”

“Yes, thank you.” You smile, the brush going limp in your hand as the door shuts quietly behind him.

You don’t call him back this time.

—-

Dress fittings are very uncomfortable occasions.

Being stood in a room of about six people all staring at every curve and contour of your body is your worst nightmare. And they aren’t shy. No, your father appoints the best of the best, and the best of the best seem to think their own words are gospel, and that they can do and say whatever they like. You’ve actually had one of them grip the fat of your thighs and tut, and insist you ‘skip dessert’ for the next few weeks if you want to fit into a nicer dress.

You hate them all. Except for Hakamada. He doesn’t really talk much, but he’s patient, and seems to care more about how you feel than if his dresses get worn. He’s worked for your family for years, and you’re glad that you at least have him to save you from the other two.

Unfortunately, you don’t think he can make today’s fitting, which is why you’re wearing the monstrosity that you are. You’re standing on the small podium so they can all see you properly, and you frown at your reflection in the mirror. The dress is too frilly and comically big. You’re unsure how they even expect you to walk around in this without falling flat on your face. You look completely ridiculous, and judging by how Shinsou is refusing to meet your eye from the corner of the room, he agrees too.

Suzuki bites her bottom lip worriedly as she examines you, fluffing up the skirt. “Is it too pink?”

“It’s too pink.” Ito nods.

You nod. “Yes, I-“

Suzuki quickly waves you off. “No offence, darling but let us professionals decide this, okay?”She says, flashing you one of her fake smiles that show way too much teeth.

You want to say that you're both agreeing, so your opinion is clearly not any less valid than hers, but instead you give her a tight-lipped smile and focus your attention back to your reflection.

They gawk at you for a moment more before Ito ushers you over to the folding screen so you can get changed into the next dress they have waiting for you. 

You’re thankful to be rid of the suffocating material, and you stand and wait for them to pass you the next one. They take their time looking through the option while you stand half naked waiting for them. You feel too exposed in just your undergarments, and you cross your arms over your chest and try not to storm out of the room. The two idiots are arguing over whose dress should be tried on next. It’s by God’s saving grace that the doors to the room open, and Hakamada walks in with his own garments draped over his arm.

“Apologies for my lateness, your majesty.” He bows, and you peek your head over the side of the folding screen so you can beam at him.

“No worries. I’m glad you could make it.”

Shinsou takes the dresses from his arms and hangs them up on one of the clothing racks near the front of the room. They share some small conversations. They know each other, back from when Shinsou was a knight and Hakamada had designed their uniforms. You see a wistful look in his eyes, and you wonder if he misses working out in the field instead of being with you. 

Ito and Suzuki immediately look annoyed upon Hakamada’s arrival, and you roll your eyes at their sour expressions. 

“Hakamada! We thought you couldn’t make it today.” The smile on Ito’s face looks like it pains him, and you stifle a laugh. 

“I thought I’d be held up, but I was not.” He states. “Is it my turn to present my dress?”

“Maybe we-“

“Yes!” You exclaim. You’re still peering over the side, clinging to the screen so you don’t accidentally flash anyone. “Yes, I’d like to see your options.”

Hakamada nods, gesturing for Shinsou to bring him one. 

Suzuki sighs irritatedly. “Princess, with all due respect-“

“With all due respect, I am the one to be wearing the dress, so I think I am well within my right to decide which one it is to be.” You snap. 

They don’t have a reply for that. Shinsou walks over to give you the dress, and his fingers brush yours as you take it from his hands.

“Feisty.” He murmurs under his breath, and you turn around to hide your smile.

One of your maids helps you into the dress, and when you step up on the podium and see yourself in the mirror, you know this is the one.

You run your hands down the soft tulle and the skirt that perfectly circles your waist. The fabric is a mix of white and purple, colours fading into one another, with gold sequins sewn into the delicate material. 

“This one. This is the one I want.” You say, turning around to see the back in the mirror.

Hakamada smiles slightly. “Perfect.” He comes to stand behind you, cinching it a little more around your waist.

“I think I’ll need to take it in a little here, but it’ll be ready for tonight.”

“Perfect.” You grin.

Ito reaches forward, his hands hovering over the material. Hakamada bats him away but he doesn’t move. “Are you sure? I have a purple one we could look at?”

“No. I like this one.” You say firmly.

“Are you sure?” Suzuki also hovers on your other side. “There’s still a lot more options left. And this one, it’s nice, yes, but I’m sure I can find something that flatters you a bit more.”

“I like this one, though.” You reply, but your voice is already getting weaker.

You’re already slightly regretting your choice under their scrutinising gaze. Your confidence dwindles as they whisper between themselves and you fiddle with the fabric, biting your cheek as you look at yourself harshly in the mirror

“I think it flatters her just fine.” Hakamada shoots them a look but you’re already losing interest.

You sigh. “Maybe. Maybe we should look at a few more. Just in case?” 

You hear a noise of disagreement from the back of the room. You look up in the mirror and catch Shinsou’s eyes. He’s stood dutifully at the back of the room and his gaze hasn’t left you since you walked in.

“I don’t think you need to try on anymore dresses.” He says.

Suzuki rolls her eyes. “Of course. Now the butler has an opinion.” She mutters, throwing her waist measure on the table.

You pay her no mind. Your eyes are still trained on Shinsou. “Really?”

“Yes. You look beautiful.” 

You let out a breath of relief, his reassurance enough to quell all your worries. “Okay. You’re right. I’ll take this one, please.”

——-

It feels as if your English lessons fly by, mainly because you spend the whole time thinking about the ball later in the evening. You aren’t nervous about it. You don’t think you could be nervous over something you’ve done a million times, you just have no energy for it today. You wish you could just sit in the garden or read one of the novels your father had bought you from a few towns over, anything at all.

Instead, you’re staring in front of the large ballroom doors, awaiting your announcement to enter the hall.

Your face feels heavy with the makeup caked onto it, and your dress has been considerably tightened around your waist. Your chest is heaving out your corset a little more than you feel comfortable with, and the heels you have on click as you tap your foot impatiently on the floor. You feel like a show pony, dressed up to be paraded around the room, and you know it’ll only get worse once you walk in there.

“Smile, princess.” Shinsou sings behind you.

You wave him off. Technically, he doesn’t need to be here. When you’re at an event like this, he should wait in his room or with the other staff until you’re finished and need him again. But he doesn’t usually do that. He hovers around the edges of the ballroom, and you’re thankful for it. The second you get bored or too tired, he’s there to escort you back to your room. 

But today, you’re in a bad mood, and his teasing smile is only making you feel worse.

Shinsou raises a brow at the expression on your face. “Someone’s grumpy. English lessons didn’t go well?”

“Don’t be dense, Shinsou.” You grumble. “I can’t believe I have to spend the next few hours here. In this stupid dress.”

“At least it’s a beautiful dress. Very purple. I like that touch.” 

That may or may not have something to do with why you liked the colour so much. The lavender is suspiciously similar to the one on his head, but you don’t dwell on it too much.

You huff, fluffing out the fabrics so they fall neatly around you. “Your wit is unappreciated at this time.”

Shinsou sighs wistfully, leaning against the wall beside him. “You don’t appreciate it any time.”

You hear your father wrapping up his welcome speech, and you know it’s time for you to walk in soon. Shinsou saddles up to your side and nudges your arm.

“It’ll be fine, princess. You won’t be in there that long, and then you can complain about it all night to me.”

That eases you slightly. You nod, a small smile curling against your lips. “Alright. That’ll tide me over, I suppose.”

As if on cue, the heavy doors of the ballroom open, and Shinsou shuffles out of sight. It’s a walk you’ve done a million times, down the middle of the room and up to join your father where he waits at the front. But your skin still crawls at all the eyes on you, hungry and searching and all over your body. But you ignore it, smile brightly and keep your head high as you join your father.

The party is the same as it always is. You go around and greet your guests for what feels like hours. They ask about your studies, about your father, but mostly about your youth, and how quickly it’s slipping away. A few of the more confident ones even slip in a few comments about babies, which you very dutifully ignore. 

Occasionally, when the conversation is dry or someone is rattling on about something you’ve heard a million times before, your eyes drift around the room until they land on Shinsou. You think he’s always looking at you because whenever you find him, his deep gaze is trained squarely on you. He makes faces at the more annoying guests and rolls his eyes when they talk too long and you stifle your laughter behind sips of your champagne. It’s nice. It feels like you have someone on your side. 

It doesn’t get really bad until Keigo approaches you.

You’ve spoken to him once or twice. He’s one of your fathers favorite suitors, a prince hailing from a kingdom too rich for its own good, but you hate his guts. He’s handsome, sure, but that seems to be the only good trait he possesses. He’s rude and conceited, and he seems to think that the ground he walks on is blessed. If you ended up married to him, you’d toss yourself off your bedroom balcony to get away from him.

Your efforts to avoid him only go well for so long. He approaches you confidently and you internally groan as he makes his way over to you.

“Your majesty.” He greets, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

You’re trying very hard to hide the disgust on your face as he rises to his full height, smiling at you with teeth so white they reflect the light from the chandelier above you. “Keigo. What a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine. Seems like it was impossible to get you alone tonight.” 

“Oh, yes.” You laugh awkwardly. “I was busy greeting my guests.”

“I’m a guest too, no? One of the more important ones, I’d say.” He grins.

“Right.” You take a sip of your champagne. “So how have you been?”

“Perfect.” Keigo is standing far too close to you, and the smell of his cologne is strong and stings your nostrils. “I just finished the furnishing in my new palace.” 

“Another one? Do you not already own two?”

Keigo smirks. “You can never have too many. You should come by and see it. See them.” 

You nod. “Maybe one day.”

Maybe never. 

In one swift move, Keigo takes the champagne glass out of your hand.

You furrow your brows. “That- I was drinking that.”

He doesn’t pay you any mind. He carelessly dumps it onto the tray of one of your maids, almost spilling it over her, and before you can give her an apology he’s dragging you towards the middle of the room. The orchestra in the far corner of the room notices the commotion as people make space for the two of you, and begin to play a slow ballad. You watch in horror as people couple up and gather around you, and you have no choice but to comply with his dancing. 

Keigo wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your waist and dragging your other hand up with his. The music crescendos and the two of you start flirting around the ballroom. You’re not entirely sure how the two of you got into this situation, but you grit your teeth and let him spin you slowly. 

“You’re a great dancer.” He muses. 

“It’s my duty to be.” You reply, your hair fanning around you as he dips you down and lifts you up.

Your eyes drift and you see Shinsou. He doesn’t look happy. His body seems tense and you watch him scan the way Keigo clings to your body, before he promptly turns away.

“So,” Keigo begins and your attention is drawn back to him, “I think enough time has been wasted.”

Your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, princess.” The nickname tastes bitter coming from him, and you sigh irritatedly. 

“I do not.”

Keigo chuckles, like you’re some blithering idiot, and when he speaks again, he does it slowly, like you’re too stupid to understand him if he speaks any quicker. “The marriage between our kingdoms of course.”

If he sees the blood drain from your face he makes no comment, just grips your hand with more purpose. “Our fathers seem pleased, and let’s be honest. You’re not getting any younger.”

“What did you just say to me?” You snap, and he only smiles.

“It’s true, my lady. But don’t misunderstand me. You are still by far the prettiest thing I’ve ever set my eyes on. Let’s just hope those looks age well, or I might have to upgrade to a newer model.” 

And if his words didn’t disgust you enough, the hand that’s been circling your waist rises up until he’s practically fondling your chest, and you push him off you like his touch burned your skin.

“Get off me! Have you lost your mind?” You hiss, and he has the audacity to look offended, like you had done something wrong.

“I think you’ve lost yours. Don’t forget what I am to you.” He snaps and you laugh incredulously.

“You are nothing!” You yell, and you don’t care that half the room is staring at you now.

Because you’ve had enough. It’s like the damn inside you that had been threatening to burst has finally exploded, and you feel so hot with your rage that you have to clench your fists at your side to stop yourself from hitting him.

“I will never marry you. I will never- I would rather slit my own wrists than spend another second by your side.” 

You ignore the gasps around the room, the sound of your voice echoing across the ballroom. You ignore the thunderous voice of your father, and storm out of the room, dress billowing behind you as the doors fly open.

You head for the garden. This late in the evening, it’ll be empty, and the last thing you need right now is anybody in your way. None of the maids are stupid enough to try and approach you, and you’re undisturbed as you finally make your way outside, the cool air soothing you slightly. You pace up and down the cobblestone path, your breath coming out fast and shaky, trying to calm yourself down. 

Your father will kill you for what you just pulled. The whole kingdom will exile you to the farthest village possible for the embarrassment you just caused them. And even though a small part of you feels vindicated for finally yelling at Keigo in the face, you know the consequences of that action will far outweigh any gratification you got from it.

You slump down on one of the wooden benches. You try not to cry. Really, you do, but you can’t help the stinging behind your eyes, and the tears that smear the makeup that had been so carefully painted on your face hours before. You don’t know if it's anger or sadness or the accumulation of all the things you’ve been feeling the past few weeks, but you can’t stop them anyway.

You’re alone, so luckily there’s nobody to see you. You feel pathetic. You don’t have many girl friends you’d trust with something like this, and your maids would only listen for the gossip.

It’s when you’re feeling extremely alone that Shinsou finds you, as he always does. 

You hear his footsteps thundering up the path, and when you lift your head up to meet his gaze, his face is creased with worry. It worsens when he sees your tear-stricken face, and he sits besides you. “No, don’t cry, Y/N.”

“They’re not sad tears, I’m- I’m really pissed.” You sniff, and Shinsou breathes a laugh.

His hand rubs smoothing circles into your back, and the feeling of his skin on yours feels better than you’d like to admit. It isn’t like Keigo, where you felt like your body was setting itself on fire trying to reject him. No, your body feels on fire for entirely different reasons.

You wipe furiously at your face and you’re sure you’ve smudged your makeup terribly. “I can’t believe him. Did you see what he did? How he grabbed me?”

Shinsou’s hand slides down and grabs your hand. “I saw.”

“Yes, you always do. If only you could’ve helped me.” You pout.

“Well, if it wouldn’t have ended with my head on a stake I’d have loved to jump to your rescue.” He muses, and you shake your head.

You rub at your eyes again and Shinsou huffs a laugh. You look at him curiously, and he points at your face. “Your mascara. You look like a panda.”

He swipes under you eyes slightly. “A very angry panda.”

“I am very angry. You should have heard what he was saying. Just disgusting. He’s a degenerate-”

“Princess-”

“He’s intolerable, he’s-”

“Y/N.” Shinsou says more firmly and your mouth clicks shut.

He looks good right now. His cheeks are slightly flushed from his run to find you, his hair so perfectly dishevelled and fluttering in the wind. He’s wearing a tux, a cheap one, but it still fits him perfectly, and from where he’s sitting the moon reflects over him in a way that makes him look a little otherworldly. Like something too good to be human.

You don’t catch what he says, too distracted by his pretty face to hear him. “Sorry, what?”

Shinsou smiles. “I said, why don’t I take you back to your room, and you can calm down and get yourself to bed.”

You bite at your lip. “What about my father?”

Shinsou waves you off. “He won’t say anything to you now. He’s too busy trying to calm down the crowd at the ball.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “God. I should not have done that.”

“It was quite attractive to watch.”

Your head shoots up, and he’s looking at you with a grin that should be illegal with the way it makes your toes curl in your heels. “Shut it.” You stand up, face on fire.

“Will do.”

He escorts you to your room quickly, avoiding any unwanted interactions. He stands guard outside your door, and you hear him turn away the few people who try to enter your room, insisting that you’re not well enough to talk to anyone. 

You wash your face slowly, wiping away the tear tracks and ruined makeup. You undress yourself as best as you can but you struggle after getting your heels and stocking off. You try your best to undo the corset on your dress, but it’s too difficult to untie on your own, the laces far back and way too tight. It took three people to get you in this dress. You won’t be enough to get you out of it.

After struggling for five minutes, you consider cutting yourself out of it. But the dress is too nice for that. There’s no maid you can ask. You’re too embarrassed to be seen by anyone right now. Except for the man standing outside your room.

You peek your head around your bedroom door. Shinsou is leaning against the wall, his tie loosened and his hand in his pockets.

“Shinsou.” You whisper. “Can you help me get this dress off?”

Shinsou raises a brow, his eyes flitting up and down your body. “You’re moving fast. Shouldn’t I propose first?”

“Shut up and get in here.” You scold and he follows your orders quickly. 

The door clicks shut softly behind him. The light in your room is dim, only coming from the few candles you have lit around the room. The place is always clean. The maids don’t let even a speck of dust land on any of your furniture, no clutter or any sort of mess. You're thankful for them, of course, but sometimes you feel like your room is a set, not somewhere you live. But it’s home, you suppose.

Shinsou definitely feels at home. In your bedroom, you two can ditch the boundaries you have to keep when you're in public. He stretches himself out on your bed, tossing his suit jacket onto the chair on your vanity.

You roll your eyes at him. “Can you stop stretching on my bed and help me?”

“Apologies.” He gets to his feet and stands behind you.

You move your hair out the way. This feels oddly reminiscent of this morning, but with your heart feeling a lot heavier than it did then. Shinsou nearly groans at the sight of the complicated knots of your corset.

“So many knots. Do they really all need to be here?”

“Well, unless you’d like me to reveal my chest to half the kingdom, then yes, they do.”

Shinsou laughs and his breath is warm against your neck. “I definitely don’t want that.”

He begins to untie them slowly. “Are you feeling better?”

You hum. “Slightly. The anger has faded and embarrassment has started to kick in.”

“It wasn’t embarrassing.” He reassures you.

“No, it was.”

“Maybe. It was entertaining, at least.”  He murmurs and you wince. “Is Keigo really that bad?”

You shake your head. “He’s worse. He told me that my father has basically chosen him to be my suitor.” 

Shinsou's hands freeze on your back. “He did?”

You try not to read into it. You really do, but it's late and you feel weak after crying, and you read it as everything you want it to be.

“Yes. But I won't.”

Shinsou finally untangles the last string, and your hands come up to hold the corset in place. “Y/N-”

“I don’t care. I can’t marry him.” You take a step away from Shinsou, like the distance will make the tension in the room any less stifling.

It doesn’t help. You can feel his presence behind you, can feel him looking at the contours of your back. He shouldn’t be seeing you like this, not even thinking about you like this, but you can't bring yourself to care.

“Because of the whole disgusting degenerate thing?” Shinsou teases lightly, but it falls flat.

“Yes. And something else.”

“The blond hair?” You know he’s trying to joke with you to make this easier. 

You don't fall for the bait.

Instead, you turn, and his face looks as full of yearning as your heart feels. And it’s the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s always looking at you, that gives you the courage to do what the two of you have been dancing around for months.

“You know why.” You whisper.

Shinsou breathes out, his body deflating. He steps back, shaking his head. “Don’t do this.”

“Why? It’s about time, no?” You plead, and he shakes his head furiously.

“You can’t- We both can’t.” He snaps. He puts even more distance between the two of you, his knees hitting the back of your bed, and you rush to close it. 

“And why not? Are you not sick of this, this waiting between the two of us for something to happen?” You fidget with your corset, hastily tying it behind you so that it won’t fall as you walk after him.

He holds his hand out and you stop. He walks swiftly to the door, fingers itching against the handle. But he doesn’t leave. Shinsou just stands there.

“Because once we do this, we can never go back.”

“I don’t want to go back. I want- I-“

You look a mess. You’re sure of it. You’d ditched your crinoline so your dress hangs around your feet, and your corset is slanted across your chest from where you’d haphazardly tied it. Your face is bare and most likely tinted red from your efforts to scrub your makeup off. 

And still, he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And it makes your heart ache and you shake your head.

“I want you. I want you, Shinsou.” You whisper. “Not them. And I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

“Y/N.” His voice is strained. “Please.” 

“Every second I’m in those ridiculous balls I’m just waiting until I can see you. I- It’s always been you, Shinsou.”

He hasn’t said anything. Which is strange, because he never doesn’t have something to whisper under his breath, to murmur to you when you have to be serious. He’s just looking at you, eyes flitting between yours desperately, his fingers still wrapped around the handle. 

You fiddle with your hands nervously. “Shinsou. Please say something.” 

He doesn’t. You swallow roughly as the seconds drag on for what feels like hours.

“Okay. Okay, I just embarrassed myself for a second time today. It’s okay, you can leave. Pretend I said nothing.” You laugh awkwardly, trying to push him out the door. 

But he doesn’t budge. Shinsou finally lets go of the door and wraps his hand around yours. You don’t have time to question what he’s doing. Because in one swift motion, he’s pulling you towards him and closes the gap between the two of you, his lips pressing desperately against yours.

For a moment, you think you’re dreaming. Because this has been the subject of so many of your fantasies you don’t really think it’s happening.

But it’s real. His warm lips move against yours, and your teeth click against his, out of practice. His hands slide down from where they cup your cheek to grip your waist and pull you closer until your chest bumps into his. You let out a deep sigh, hands curling in his soft hair, tugging at the strands and eliciting a groan from his chest. His kiss is hungry. Years of feelings festering between the two of you thrumming through your veins. He breaks apart and his lips are slick with your spit, and his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath.

“Fuck.” His hands squeeze where they’re wrapped around your waist. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing.” You grin, pressing a soft one to his cheek, hands gliding over his muscular arms.

He shakes his head but he puts up no resistance as you kiss his cheeks again, then his jaw, and the soft junction of his neck. “This is stupid. We shouldn’t do this.” 

“We’re already doing it.” You whisper against his skin and Shinsou pulls you back to face him.

His voice is soft and serious when he speaks, and the heat in your stomach only worsens at the careful way he’s looking at you. “Y/N. I need you to be sure this is what you want. And I need you to understand how serious this is. ”

His hand cups your face and his thumb runs over the curve of your cheek. You’re sure you’re looking at him with stars in his eyes, and you nod frantically. “Very serious.”

Shinsou tongue pokes at his cheek and he gives your cheek a light tap. He grins at the way your eyes light up at the contact. “Be serious.”

You hum. “I am. And this is what I want.”

“Alright, then.” 

Shinsou turns you around and your back hits your bedroom door with a light thud. Your dress loops around the two of you and he smiles warmly. Long fingers wrap around your wrists, both his hands in one of yours, and he holds them above you as he presses a soft kiss against your lips. He’s not rushing anymore.  His kisses are slow and sensual, his tongue dancing against your own. He tastes sweet, like the desserts stacked on the dining tables in the ballroom. You ease into him, hands twitching as you squirm in his grasp. 

“Easy.” He murmurs. “I’ve been waiting too long for this to finish so quickly.” 

He lets go of your hands, and instead unties the loose knot in the back of your corset. He looks to you for permission but you’re already shucking it off, tossing it on the floor behind you. You feel a flutter of nerves as his eyes rake over your body. Your arms move to hide yourself but he tuts, pulling them out the way.

“Don’t do that.” He scolds. “I need to see you.” 

His fingers are calloused as they glide over your chest and under the thin fabric of your undergarments. When you don’t push him away he lets them glide over your nipples, as his leg pushes up to press between your thighs. He pinches them carefully, moving back to kiss you again so that the sound that escapes you is muffled into his mouth. 

“So soft. So beautiful.” He sighs as you break apart, and your reply is lost in your throat as he sucks a soft red mark into your skin.

“Wait,” you breathe. “You can’t. The maids will see.” You curl your hands in his hair and pull him back up.

Despite the fact it should be, this isn’t the first time you’ve been with a man. You’ve always been rebellious, to say the least, and while you haven’t lost your virginity, you’ve practically done everything else. But for some reason, everything with Shinsou feels different, feels heightened. Your skin feels hot and your underwear feels slick and you can barely catch your breath. Shinsou is pressed into you and you can feel him, feel the hard outline of his cock against your thigh.

“Shame. Would’ve loved to mark you.” He sighs, dropping to his knees.

“Shinsou, what-“

“Mark you and show you off to all those men who can’t keep their filthy hands off you.” He bundles up your skirt and ducks his head under it.

Your face burns as you look down at him. “Shinsou, what are you doing?” You mumble.

“Need to taste you.” He says it so matter-of-factory, like you’re the one that’s being ridiculous.

He slips your underwear down your legs in one swift motion and eases you out of them. You barely have time to react before Shinsou licks up the length of your pussy, long and hard, and you find yourself melting into his touch.

“Fuck.” You breathe out, bracing your hand against the wall. 

Shinsou hums against your skin, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder. He’s done this before. You’re sure of it, because his tongue moves like it has a mind of its own, and your legs twitch as he laps over the soft flesh of your pussy. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs and he’s so insistent with his movements it feels like he’s trying to crawl his way inside of you.

He gives one firm lick over your clit and you keen. “Shinsou, please.” 

“I know, baby.” He detaches from you with a wet noise that makes your face burn. “I bet nobody has touched you like this before.”

Despite the fact you think you’re about to finish all over his face, you snort a laugh. “Do not be so sure.” 

Shinsou pauses his movement, mouth inches from your skin, his breath ghosting over your spit-soaked lips. You frown as he unhooks your leg from his shoulder, rising from underneath your dress to eye you suspiciously. 

“Somebody has?”

“Two somebodies, actually.” You smile at his ruffled hair and at what you think is jealousy clouding over his face.

“Is that so?” 

“It is.” You squirm a little, restless. “Can you please continue, now?”  

Shinsou doesn’t move though. His gaze doesn’t leave your face. “Were they good?”

So it is jealousy. In all honesty, they weren’t very good. The first time you’d been sixteen, young and rosy/cheeked and too giddy that you were even in the same proximity as a boy to focus too much on his handiwork. You did finish, so there’s that. The second time, you were older, and he had been a little more experienced. He hadn’t been the best, more concerned with you returning the favour than whether you were enjoying yourself.

But you’ve seen this look on Shinsou before, the jealousy that clouds his features when you’re even standing too close to another man, and you like it. 

“The best.”

Shinsou scoffs, ducking his head back down. You think he’s cursing someone under his breath, and your teasing retort is stolen from your lips as he thrusts two fingers inside you, his tongue resuming its work on your clit.

You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. It occurs to you very fleetingly that if the two of you get caught, Shinsou is as good as dead. And while you’re sure that nobody will bother you after everything that happened tonight, if anyone passing by hears a single sound out of you, it’ll be over.

And it’s hard to stay quiet when Shinsou is so determined to get you to break. His fingers thrust roughly into your aching pussy, stretching you out. You’re dripping down his palm, and your hips chase his lithe fingers, grinding yourself on him so he hits that soft spot inside you that makes the corners of your vision blur.

“I’m close. I’m close, Shinsou.” You pant.

“Hitoshi.” He purrs into your skin.

And all it takes is him sucking your clit deep into his mouth for you to finish with his name on your lips, your legs twitching and your fingers digging into his shoulder. He keeps at you until you’re pushing him away, whining until he unveils his head from under your dress once more.

His cheeks are flushed when he rises to his feet, and he pouts at you, cooing. “God, look at you. You’re a mess.” He pushes your hair back behind your ear and you only have enough energy to shoot him an unimpressed look.

“Come on. We aren’t finished yet, pretty girl.” 

It feels like it takes seconds for the two of you to undress and scramble onto your bed. The sheets are soft and cool your hot skin, and as you rest your head on your pillows, Shinsou crowds your vision. His hands grab your hips and move you into position beneath him. Your eyes rake over his naked body, the muscle of his arms and thighs, the scars that litter his body. Your fingers brush against the trail of hair leading down, and you watch with lidded eyes as he pumps himself slowly.

His other hand slides down and rubs at your sex and you squirm, still too overstimulated. “Oh, I know. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

He adjusts himself at your entrance and you wait with bated breath for him to move. As soon as the head presses against your folds, you brace yourself. You’re sure his preparations were enough, but it’s been a while since you’ve had intercourse with another man. 

But he doesn’t go any further than that. He just rubs his tip up and down, right against your clit until your brain feels foggy and you could cum again just from that.

“Shinsou. Come on.” You whine. 

He tilts his head, completely unbothered despite the fact he’s so hard he’s leaking pre-cum all over you. “You know what to call me.”

“Hitoshi, please.” 

The corner of his lip tilts up, and the smirk on his face is just not fair.

“Tell me what you want.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “And I’ll give it to you.”

“I want you.” You breathe, eyes slipping shut.

“Yeah?” 

“Yes. It’s always been you.” Shinsou’s nose rubs against yours and his sighs sound so relieved.

“That’s a good fucking girl.” 

You’re wet enough that when Shinsou finally starts to press into you, the slickness of your arousal makes it easy. You whine as your walls stress, and he hushes you, presses soft kisses into your skin until he’s fully seated inside you.

He’s barely moving. He holds himself up with one arm while the other grabs your waist, and his head is bent over your chest, his breaths long and hard. He just rocks his hips in a slow, filthy grind that draws the pleasure out. He thrusts in and out of you slowly. Like your his, like he has all the time in the world to lay you on your sheets and ruin you. 

“Need- I need you to be quiet. Okay?” He whispers against your lips. “We can’t let anybody hear us.”

Soft moans leave your lips but you nod regardless. “Okay.”

“Good girl.”

Your cunt makes a lewd, wet sound as he pulls out and presses back in quickly, and you squirm at the fullness. And then he’s moving even faster, starting up a steady pace. The slap of his hips hitting yours echo around the room. Each thrust pushes you up the bed, and you hook your arms around his neck to brace yourself.

“So good,” he places wet, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. “So perfect.”

You couldn't respond if you tried. You’re too focused on the feel of his cock against your walls, all hot and aching, and the fact that you can’t make as much noise as you wish you could. Shinsou’s so long you think he’s reaching in parts of you nobody has before, and the sting of the stretch is completely overwhelmed by how good it feels.

“Feels so good, Hitoshi.” You gasp, and your nails dig into his back as he lifts your hips up.

“Perfect fucking pussy,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “That’s my girl.”

The praise stirs in your stomach. His girl, his girl. It runs circles around your head as he drills into you. He’s watching your face so closely, your fucked-out expression as his hand comes up to tug at your nipple. 

You tug the soft hair at the nape of his neck to steady yourself. You want this to last longer, but you can already feel the coil tightening in your stomach as his cock drags in and out of you

“Hitoshi. I’m close.” You whine, and he nods.

“It’s okay, baby. You can come.” He uses a thumb to rub at your clit and he bites at your pulse and you can’t hold it in anymore.

Your walls clench around him and you both groan as you unravel around him. Your arousal drenches him as you convulse around him, your walls fluttering, and his breath stutters. 

“That’s it. Just like that.” He pants.

Shinsou works you through it until your legs are twitching beneath him. You fall back on the bed, but Shinsou doesn’t stop. He keeps thrusting, still hard and still not finished.

“Hitoshi. I can’t- S’too much.” You try and push him off.

“You can.” He orders, his voice low and a little mean.

He’s so commanding that you nod instantly, hands gripping his arms to brace yourself as you nod weakly. “I can.”

“You can.” 

He picks up the pace and he’s almost purring as he drills into you relentlessly. With a few more thrusts, Shinsou comes hard with your name on his lips, his head dropping onto your chest as he spills inside you. You’re still panting as he comes down from his high, a few more lazy, slow movements before he pulls out. 

Shinsou has his eyes on the mess between your thighs. He looks a little in awe. His pale skin is flushed red and his hair sticks to his forehead and he grins up at you.

“Look at that. Look what we did together.” He uses two fingers to fuck his cum back inside of you and you close your legs, pushing him away.

“Do not be disgusting.” 

“We are both disgusting. And sweaty.” 

He drops down beside you with a heavy sigh and wraps his arms around you. You lean into his chest, eyes slipping shut.

“I need to bathe.” You mumble. You doubt you will, though. Your limbs feel too heavy to move.

“Me too. Shall I join you?” He ponders, fingers trailing up and down your bare legs.

You smile slightly. “Maybe you should.” 

Part of you still thinks you will blink and this will all have just been a dream. But Shinsou is still beside you when you open your eyes. The glow of your orgasms fades, and with it, suddenly comes the panic of what the two of you have just done.

“Oh my god. What have we done?” You shoot up into a sitting position and cover your face with your hands.

“We had sex.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest. “We had sex. We had sex. I lost my virginity to my butler.” You splutter.

Shinsou frowns. “Don’t say it like that.”

“But it is like that.”

Shinsou tugs at your arm. “We can panic later. Let’s sleep now, yes?” 

You let him pull your back down. You nod and swallow roughly. “Okay. Yes. We should sleep. While we still have bed and board, and my father hasn’t disowned me.” 

Shinsou snorts. “Calm down. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous.”