Little Scenario: Prince x Maid
Thinking about a prince who seems strangely possessive of his favourtie personal maid.
He always has you following after him, like his shadow. No matter where he goes or what he's doing-- You are a constant by his side. You always were, since you were very small children, growing up in the court.
The crown prince is still young, but his... attitude makes it difficult to believe he'll change by the time he ascends the throne. Prince Solivan is demanding and strict with what he desires. He does not like waiting, and he does not like being out of control of what he deems his things.
You know that better than anyone else in the palace.
And you are reminded of it everytime you misplace his things while attempting to clean his room. Or when you'd scratched his favourite porcelian by accident. Or when you'd returned his fountain pen to it's place, except it wasn't exactly where he usually puts it. It must have been just an inch or two out of place, but it didn't matter, because he noticed.
He'd been fuming. And he made you regret it.
Your prince is also rather... Touchy. In a strange bold way that doesn't make sense to you. Maybe it's because you never refuse him, but his boldness has made it so that he'd call for you during events, only to pull you into his lap and explore with his hands over your modest maid outfit. It doesn't matter that people are watching, or that your deeply uncomfortable and embarrassed beyond words. He wants you in his lap, now. He wants you to be silent and sit pretty and let him play, now.
Who are you to say no? To embarrass him infront of his guests?
So you do. You sit, you squirm in his grasp as he gets uncomfortably handsy with you. While your face burns with humiliation and you fidget in discomfort, trying to find a break in the conversation so you can beg him to let you go. But he doesn't even bother looking at you. He continues speaking and charming his guests and even flirting with the ladies of court while you're in his lap.
If you ever complain to him, he simply pouts at you and tells you its not fair to him that you have to be away from him when you perform your duties, and he has to suffer through these events by himself. He needs comfort too, you know-- Isn't he your beloved prince? Doesn't he deserve your comfort? So what if you are uncomfortable? Shouldn't your prince's touch be a blessing to you? Shouldn't you be fucking grateful?
You were never very good at saying no to him. Maybe because you never ever get the chance.
Your prince finds it difficult to focus, sometimes. Or so he says. He was always sort of... affectionate. You always thought you were so lucky, that the crown prince appreciates you so much as to find comfort in your presence, in your warmth. His hand would linger around your waist or your lower back when he walks by. Or squeeze your hips when he sees you working. Even press against you and wrap his arms around you, pressing his face into your hair, his hands stroking your sides. You were used to such touches, embraces, and so on...
Well... Until it became... Inappropriate, even to your own eyes, which were so used to him by now. Maye because on one day when you were fluttering around his office, he'd called you to stand beside him, only to pull you onto his lap. to hold you against him as he works, his eyes never leaving the parchment he wrote on with that elegant script. You tried to protest, but he didn't even look at you, only pinched your hip, making you jump, and effecitvely getting his command across. Be silent.
His hands moved over your uniform, touching, squeezing, carressing, even going as far as weighing your breast in his hand. Enjoying your squirming and uneven breathing. When you dared to grasp his wrist to stop him from slipping into the top of your uniform, his ice cold eyes finally moved to your face. You'd pleaded with him, your face burning with embarassment, "Please, my prince, this is not appropriate, I can't--"
He tilted his head, eyeing you with exasperation that one would feel when addressing a nagging child who asked a stupid question. "I cannot focus." He huffed, his voice rough with his annoyance. His cold command softened into a mumur, nearly begging in its sincereity when he says: "Be still, won't you? I just need your help."
"Is it not your purpose to aid me when I need it?"
It was your purpose to aid him, was it not? But those words weren't what really made you remain still in his lap, even as he groped at your chest and rested his jaw over your shoulder, treating you like a fidget toy to help him focus on his tasks. It was the 'I need you' which always got you to soften. How could you refuse your beloved prince when he needs you? When he only ever needed you to help him?
"Yes, my prince," You'd muttered, despite the discomfort that made your cheeks hurt as his hands squeezed and stroked your chest, even over your uniform.
"My angel." He'd responded softly under his breath, the words wrapping around you like a soft misleading comfort. He could feel the little shiver that ran through you when he praised you. And a small smile tugged at his lips, even though his eyes focused back on his work, and there again, you disappeared into a toy in his lap for him to play with.
You could't help feel the pleasure of being useful for someone like him. Someone you'd thought was far above you in every way possible, yet somehow needed you. The feeling warming your chest made you relax into his arms.
You never noticed, but back then, his grip on the pen tightened when you'd melted against him so sweetly. He'd never tell you, but it always fed a fire inside him, the way you always gave up your personal comfort and wishes for his own. And you would do it so easily, too--With just a well placed word, a little nudging from him and you'd bend to whatever shape he felt he needed.
And you were soft, so cute and squishy and sweet, he really couldn't help it. You were always his favourite little thing, all pliable, giving, and so damn thoughtful... It would have made him sick, if your stupidity didn't help him keep you looking at him like that.
Like he's everything, like you'd give him all of you just for him to be satisfied.
Little did you know, he would never be satisfied by so little of you.
