Royal 5 Seconds of Summer Imagines

Princess Pt. 1 {Michael Clifford Smut} *

http://majorharry.tumblr.com/post/128347423413/princess-michael-clifford-smut

PAIRING: Michael / Y/N (Maid)
RATING: R
WARNING: SMUT

~*~

"I still can't believe the prince looked at me!"

"Do you think he and the princess hit it off?"

"I heard that he took her to his chambers."

The scullery maids you shared a room with were babbling on about the latest gossip floating around in the castle.

Tonight had been an important ball held in the honour of the kingdom negotiating a fair trade with one of the neighbouring monarchies. The king and queen were kind and welcoming, but all eyes had been on their son tonight—the rumour had been that the princess of the other kingdom would be attending, and every citizen had been waiting with a held breath to see if something would bloom between the two young royals.

Every citizen, except you, of course.

Because as much as you claimed to be completely indifferent when it came to Prince Michael Gordon, you couldn't deny that seeing him dance with the beautiful princess in the flowing gown had made your stomach clench grossly. You'd avoided him all night, trying to stay out of his way and ignore the nagging thoughts in your brain, wondering if all those secret escapades to his room had only been a game to him.

Maybe they had.

A sudden knock on the door of the maids' chambers snapped you from your reflections. A young maid—only fourteen, with blonde braids in her hair and a seemingly permanent smile on her face—jumped up, rushing to answer it and paying no attention to the rest of the teenage girls in the room; there were maybe about six in total, including you.

You were busy piling up one of the other girls' hair into pigtails, speaking to her in hushed whispers and not focusing on the scene around you. Suddenly, the door slammed, and your head whipped up, as did the rest of the heads in the room.

"The prince is outside!" The young blonde maid hissed, her face lighting up and her back pressed against the door dreamily. Immediately a loud buzz filled the room, indistinguishable chatters and shrieks, your fellow ladies wondering why Prince Michael would ever consider paying a trip to their room.

"He's asked to see Y/N!" The girl said, and suddenly everything went quiet.

One by one each girl turned to look at you, a few smiling widely, others with wide eyes and slackened jaws. You tried to keep your posture neutral and finished tying the girl's hair into a cute pigtail in front of you, murmuring in her ear about how you would only be a minute.

"Excuse me," you whispered as you stood from your small bed and tried to slip by one of the maids in front of you who'd been shrugging on her nightgown. Your palm settled on the doorknob, and you shot a glance back at the rest of the girls in the room. They were all watching you with wide eyes, but almost ushering you to go along with the prince's demands anyways.

"I'll be right back," you announced quietly, opening the door and slipping outside.

His Royal Highness was waiting for you in the deserted hall, his hands clasped behind his back and his feet shuffling nervously. His gaze was glued to the ground—something that should've never been portrayed by a prince—and he was still sporting the clothes he'd worn earlier tonight at the ball. The only difference was the fact that there was no crown resting on his head, a smaller replica of that which belonged to his father.

His eyes snapped up once he heard the door close behind you, and you turned warily, eyeing him and wondering what he wanted with you this time—though you had a feeling you already knew. Nonetheless, you bowed before him. "Your Highness," you spoke, a slight bitterness coating your voice.