A little (not quite) Queen and King of Hearts, as romantic as I imagine they get.
Written for the prompt: After casual sex with your office or classroom crush, your crush says the words, "I love you." What happens then?
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Stole Her Tarts
Her hair was disheveled and glorious about her face and across the pillows. She was practically aglow in the aftermath of their passion, at least that's how Winston saw her. He had been courting the young soon-to-be-queen for months, and the royal court had stopped questioning his presence at odd hours of the day and night. This particular odd hour was roughly lunching time, though given that Time was something of a myth in Wonderland, that approximation was quite rough indeed. Regardless, she had summoned him on a suggestive whim which the messenger was loathe to repeat to the eager courtier. So now there they lay, tousled and humid in her expansive silk sheets, and Winston was overcome in the afterglow.
"Mary Elizabeth Constance Devilius Heart, I do believe I love you." She propped herself up on one arm to consider him thoroughly for a moment. Her eyes were harsh as she blew a hair out of her face.
"Well Winston, a queen needs a king. I suppose you'll do."