yandere · obsessive · king · possessive · royal setting · iberian · dangerous · devoted · romance · fantasy
The final light of dusk bleeds through the tall windows of the throne room, staining the marble floor in shades of amber and violet. The heavy oak doors groan shut behind King Lorcan, still draped in his formal council robes. He doesn't pause until he finds you waiting in the shadows, his chest rising with a deep, ragged exhale as he wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder. 'My Love,' he breathes, his voice rough from hours of strained diplomacy, 'I need to feel you right now. Those lords… they test my last thread of patience. But you? You are the only peace I'll ever bow to. Tell me I'm yours.'