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a-b-riddle · 6 days

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Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #angst

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breadinanutshell · 7 months

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I made a list of Halsin facts for my own entertainment a while back but forgot to post it. Dunno if anyone would find this interesting but in case here it is, enjoy~ o/

ACT1

-He writes in tight scribbles, smokes the pipe and loves reading (likely non-fiction). He’s the studious sort, considering his unprompted interest in the parasites and his hunger for knowledge. This aspect of him was more defined in Early Access but sadly got lost during full release. It also briefly comes up during one of his banters in later chapters.

-He rarely drinks: he’s a lightweight and gets overly affectionate when drunk. He also sings when drunk. Badly, per his word.

-Is an actual Disney princess (he has birds scouting and reporting back to him).

-He has a strong sense of duty, so much so he will stop paying attention to other aspects of his life in the pursuit of it. At least in one instance, this has been depicted as a flaw (when he abandons the grove looking for the Nightsong).

-He enjoys spending time in his bear form, and appears to have been the main caretaker for the bears in the grove. Ormn in particular acts heartbroken that Halsin is missing.

-When given the chance, he’s eager to give up his position as archdruid, as he felt it was too draining and confining. Despite his insecurities in his ability as a leader, he’s more shrewd and wise than he lets on: he can play politics when necessary. And people around him have been more than happy to rely on him. He cares about those under his protection. A lot. “The grove is everything to me”.

-He doesn’t shy away from violence when provoked.

-He feels responsible for the shadow curse, and is compelled by the need to fix everything.

-This is a relic from Early Access but you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands: in the grove there used to be a fanfic titled “Shadow’s Kiss” written by the druid Roan that featured a certain “Balsin”. At the end of it a written entry by Halsin would threaten to feed Roan to Ormn if he ever saw the name “Balsin” again.

ACT2

-He likes open spaces, reading and whittling utensils and ornaments (ducks in particular). He’s got a sweet tooth and a fondness for honey. He finds it hurtful when he's made fun of for his interests: he admits people tend to underestimate his sensitivity.

-He’s a very religious man and invokes Silvanus any chance he gets. Even so he doesn’t believe in blind faith and chides Shadowheart for not questioning Shar’s teachings.

-He’s 350 years old.

-He has no mercy for goblins, to the point where he disapproves if you spare them in Moonrise. A bit funny, considering there’s a banter later on with Karlach where he insists that “mercy costs us nothing”.

-His scars were caused by a bear who didn’t appreciate being spurned during mating season.

-He’s a veteran who served in the battle against Ketheric Thorm in Reithwin, where eventually the druids and Harpers won. At the time he was likely second to the archdruid that led him into battle. When the shadow curse started spreading, said archdruid died, leaving Halsin in charge. He immediately evacuated the survivors. He still feels guilty for not being able to help more that day. From one of his party banters it’s clear Halsin suffers from survivor’s guilt. He’s lost many friends to the curse, so many in fact that “it would take a day and a night to recite the names of the fallen”.

-Considering how obsessed he’s been with the curse ravaging the land for the past 100 years, it’s unlikely he had any intimate connections during this period of time. He also claims that more good has been done since meeting Tav than in the 100 years before their meeting.

-His family is dead and buried at the foot of the Grandfather Tree in High Forest.

-He seems used to changing environments and affiliations. Once recruited, he’s quick to call Tav his new family.

-He remains polite in the face of scorn and ridicule. Right when he joins if you suggest all he’s good for is cleaning camp he responds with an awkward chuckle and a “wherever you need me”. Later in Act 3 his affections can be brusquely turned down by comparing him to a deep rothé, to which he calmly responds “a simple no would have sufficed”.

-As a child he befriended Thaniel, a spirit of nature, and ever since then he felt a higher calling. Thaniel appears to be as fond of Halsin as Halsin is of Thaniel, mentioning him often to Fist Art Cullagh during their imprisonment in the Shadowfell.

-He is the only expert of shadow curse alive, and if killed in Act 1 the curse cannot be lifted.

ACT3

-He believes himself, or at the very least aims to be, a protector. Any failure (or perceived failure) in fulfilling said role leads him to spirals of self doubt and insecurity. His self worth is heavily dependent on how useful he can be, and without a big purpose or mission to fulfill, he appears lost. In the same vein he seems incapable of staying still and relax, he always needs something to focus on.

-In true druid spirit, he considers cities to be intruding on nature’s realm. On his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, he's appalled and disgusted by the class inequality encountered in the city. He’s disturbed by the suffering of children, in particular.

-When called naive for his dream of a better future he mentions he gave up cynicism when he was 200 years old.

-He’s all for heckling Dribbles’ corny jokes.

-He sees his body as a vessel and his physical prowess as a tool. He takes no pride in it.

-He admits that he didn’t realize how much his responsibilities had been weighting on him until Tav showed up and took that burden away.

-He’s polyamorous, and pretty lax when it comes to sex and relationships: he has no qualms in taking pleasure where “desire finds purchase”. He mentions that he had many lovers in the past and that his heart doesn’t stir lightly. This might imply he’s laid with many, but cared for few. He also doesn’t appear thrilled by the prospect of marriage/tying yourself forever to someone. For a man so against putting a relationship into words, he acts incredibly smitten when romanced and showers his partner in all kinds of sweet praises.

-He’s so attuned to his wildshape that he tends to lose control of his transformations when overcome by strong emotions (i.e. anger, arousal). He appears embarrassed when this accidentally happens in an intimate situation. He does enjoy wildshape during intercourse though, as he even proposes it himself during an interaction with Shadowheart. Per his word, he doesn’t discriminate against any type: in an interaction with Lae'zel he implies he slept with a chimera.

-He considers lust to be the most essential of impulses and feels it’s only natural to be guided by it.

-He’s travelled far and wide. Where we do not know, unfortunately. He mentions he’s been to the Underdark many times and possibly the Nelanther Isles. In his youth he ventured into the Underdark to sate his own wanderlust, where he got captured, enslaved and sexually abused by drows for 3 years.

-He’s self aware of his obsession with nature. When Jaheira warns him not to fall into druid stereotypes, he comments that he does think about other topics such as high art and politics, but to him nothing compares to a tree.

-When speaking of his past, he comments that people seem to focus on the more “salacious chapters” and disregard his years of study. When confronted about it, he seems perfectly content with a life spent studying, meditating, counselling, fighting, training and fucking.

-He used to hibernate as a bear and mentions he spent at least 100 years of his life sleeping. It’s unclear if he’s still in the habit.

-At the end of the campaign he sets out to create a new community in Reithwin with the victims of war and refugees that were turned away from the city. The children of this soon-to-be-founded community refer to him as “daddy Halsin”.

-He considers himself an exceedingly patient man.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #bg3 spoilers #long post #brainrot be real #i might have missed stuff #but i tried to be as thorough as i could #if you want confirmation feel free to ask

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ja3yun · 2 months

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Royal Sacrifice | S.JY | pt.2

prince!jake x maid!fem reader warnings: tiny bit of fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, nipple play, whiney jake, my attempt to write posh-ish (again), longing, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 12.5k synopsis: with prince jaeyun set to marry another woman, revelations of the true plans behind the marriage come to light which leave you struck with conflicting emotions and lead to an outcome you could never have anticipated. part one a/n: hi! it is me once again. this was heavily requested to have a part 2 so i am being ever so kind and giving it to you all! i held a poll to see if you guys wanted a long chapter or shorter and long won so ofc its 12k (sigh) anyway, please enjoy it! this was really fun to write even though it's not my usual style, i hope this ending serves you better than part one did hehe.

3 months. It has been 3 months since you last saw the prince, the love of your life. Ever since the king made his speech declaring the marriage of Prince Jaeyun and Princess Mia, your heart has not stopped shedding pieces of itself. With each part that breaks away, you hope they reach him somehow.

Currently, he is in Lethamhill, fulfilling a tour of the Kingdom that will best help him serve the country once the merger is to happen. You haven’t ventured past the walls of Glengyre, so as you imagine him exploring and getting to know the people, being his charming self, you can only imagine the backdrop to be similar to your home, hopefully with a little more prosperity.

It has been hard to focus on your duties while your brain is occupied with a forbidden love, a love that can never be. Of course, you told him to do this, practically pushing him into the new role of a husband to a woman who is not you, yet, you don’t find any comfort in knowing you both did the right thing.

He was willing to fight in the front line, to disregard any idea of marrying another, all for the sake of you and your love. It is a love that comes once in a lifetime and it is a love that has the power to destroy worlds. You could not sit back and in your right mind watch the Prince throw away his people for you, it’s unethical and illogical, thus, you had no choice but to push him away.

But you still loved him all the same, that fire of affection will always burn for him.

Despite your longing, his absence has made it somewhat easier to grasp the idea that you can no longer hold him or feel his warmth through your veins. Being in the same room as him will only hurt you more.

He has to come back at some point, and that point is any day now.

Princess Mia must also do her rounds throughout Glengyre if she is to be a Princess of this kingdom as well as her own. You aren’t one to gossip but the chatter around the servant's quarters is that she is spoiled and entitled, everything Jaeyun despises. There might not be any truth to it, senseless rumours about her attitude could easily be spread in response to some jealous people looking for an excuse to hate her all because Jaeyun is off limits now.

It didn’t matter, true or not, they were to be wed in a matter of months regardless of personal feelings.

As you dust off the ornaments lined up neatly on the mantlepiece in the hallway, you hear the main entrance doors open, a commotion following. You peer around the corner to catch a glimpse, curious as to who graces the castle at this early hour.

Then you see Princess Mia with her arm hooked onto Jaeyun, smiling up at him with doe eyes.

That was another truth you did not want to face once he returned; that he could, in fact, have fallen in love with her.

“My boy! How was your trip?” The king’s ambitious voice echoes through the entire castle.

Jaeyun smiles gracefully, bowing as he approaches his father, “It went well, Your Majesty,” he says at a far lesser decibel than his father.

Princess Mia looks at Jaeyun like he is the only man in the world which only serves to make your stomach twist. It is so obvious this would happen, Jaeyun is so easy to fall in love with, anyone would be foolish to spend more than a few hours with him and fail to be enamoured by him.

You almost knock over the clock you are pretending to dust as your eyes stay glued to the scene before you. Your brain is trying to determine Jaeyun’s feelings towards his fiance, are the feelings of adoration mutual or does he still see this as a contractual marriage?

Does he still love you?

"Y/N, back to work, please. We do not eavesdrop on the Royals," Miss Son chides in a hushed tone, jolting you back to attention.

You bow apologetically, hastening your dusting with a newfound fervour, cheeks burning with embarrassment under Miss Son's pointed gaze. She says no more, retreating to attend to her own duties and leaving you to yours.

As you resume your task, the distant murmur of voices from the royals serves as a constant reminder of his presence despite the fact he is no longer in your line of sight. Jaeyun’s voice threads through the air like a siren’s song, beckoning you to his side once more.

But you cannot answer.

_____

As you diligently scrub the remnants of the Royal's lunch from the plates, the imposing figure of the Chamberlain disrupts the tranquillity of the kitchen, her presence commanding attention as she raps sharply on the wooden table.

“Y/N?” she asks quizzically as she does not know who the name would belong to.

It’s tiny situations like this that make you miss Jaeyun even more. The Crown Prince's effortless familiarity with over a hundred staff members stands in stark contrast, a testament to his respect and appreciation for every individual, regardless of their status.

Turning to face the Chamberlain, you offer a respectful bow, "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Ah, excellent. Please cease your current tasks and accompany me. Your presence has been requested," she instructs, her tone brooking no argument.

Your heart skips a beat, thoughts racing as you wonder what could possibly warrant such a summons. Swallowing your apprehension, you quickly set aside the plates and follow the Chamberlain, your footsteps echoing faintly in the corridor as you trail behind her.

The corridors of the castle seem to stretch endlessly, each step accompanied by a mounting sense of anticipation. You steal a glance at the Chamberlain's stoic profile, but her expression reveals nothing, leaving you to speculate about why you have been called.

Maybe the King and Queen finally discovered your clandestine relationship with the Prince, perhaps this is the moment all of your past rendezvous catch up to you. What would this mean? Would they behead you, exile you from the very kingdom you call home, or was it something much more sinister?

Finally, you arrive at a grand door, adorned with intricate carvings and gilded accents. The Chamberlain pauses, turning to regard you with a stern gaze, "Remember your place," she warns, before pushing open the door and ushering you inside.

As you walk into the large dining hall, you see an abundance of eyes on you. The entire Royal family, along with their trusted valets have their attention on you.

You scour the table for Jaeyun, whose eyes glisten with longing and disbelief. He cannot believe you are standing in front of him once again, albeit in different circumstances than he would like.

To him, you look as pretty as the day he was escorted away to Lethamhill, but he can sense that you haven’t been well; your tired eyes and slumped body are a testament. He could only wish to ease the pain from your body just as his soft hands used to do.

“Miss Y/N, is it?” the Queen inquires, eyeing you up and down.

With a nod, you avoid direct eye contact, “Yes, Your Majesty. Y/N L/N,” your hands tremble slightly as you speak, seeking stability by clutching your skirt, attempting to rid the clamminess that has settled upon them.

The King rises from his seat, intrigued by your surname and background, “L/N… Is that the same L/N who oversees the mill near the Dochart River?” he probes.

Regrettably, you must correct him, “No, Your Majesty. My father toils in the mines, and my mother gathers berries,” a tinge of shame colours your words as you recount your family's humble occupations.

Both your parents worked tirelessly to provide for your family, yet their efforts often fell short. When they left you with your siblings, it wasn't out of neglect but out of necessity, seeking better opportunities in other regions where wealth flowed more readily - a circumstance not dissimilar to yours right now.

The room falls into a weighted silence, the King's brows knit together in thought. “Ah, I see,” he murmurs, clearly disinterested in you now.

You brace yourself for judgment, but to your surprise, Princess Mia speaks up, a soft smile on her face, “Hardworking stock, it is admirable,” she remarks with no hint of sarcasm, her tone warm.

A glimmer of pride graces your features at her acknowledgement, a brief respite from the anxiety flickering around your insides. You still don’t know why you are here, so you cannot let your guard down so easily.

"Miss L/N, may I introduce Princess Mia of Lethamhill. I trust you are familiar with her impending union with the Prince?" the Queen's gaze steers you towards the Princess, who maintains a gracious smile.

"Yes, Your Majesty. It is indeed an honour to be in your presence," you reply with a respectful curtsy, offering a warm smile in return.

She makes her way to you, holding out her hands to offer to you. Your eyes scan the table to see the look of shock on everyone’s faces, taken aback by her forwardness to a mere peasant, “It is my honour to meet you, Y/N,” her face exudes a kindness you see similarly in Jaeyun.

It breaks your heart.

They are clearly well suited, their characters and status mould together in ways you and Jaeyun could never.

“Y/N, you will serve as Princess Mia’s lady-in-waiting during her stay in Glengyre,” the Queen's announcement leaves you speechless, a wave of disbelief washing over you.

Typically, when Royals of other kingdoms venture to another, it is customary that they bring their own staff, particularly their maid of honour.

Princess Mia's unexpected warmth catches you off guard as she expresses her hope for a harmonious relationship, “Pince Jaeyun spoke highly of you, Y/N. I look forward to our time together," she says, grasping your hands with genuine affection.

Confusion and resentment swirl within you. Was this Jaeyun's way of taunting you? To rub it in that you are no longer his?

Despite your inner thoughta, you maintain your composure and offer a gracious smile in return. "Thank you, Princess Mia. I am at your service," you respond, masking your apprehension with a polite demeanour.

As you glance around the room, you catch Jaeyun's eye for a brief moment, his expression one of mischief, “Thank you, Y/N. You know all the ins and outs of this castle,” he smirks, eluding to your secret nightly meetings in whatever nook and cranny you could find to be with him.

With a mixture of confusion and trepidation, you acknowledge his words with a subtle nod, unsure of what his intentions are at this moment. Despite the lingering doubts and uncertainties, you steel yourself to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Your Highness,” you say to Jaeyun, hoping he can read your confused features. Luckily after months of only being able to communicate through your expressions, he shakes his head, understanding your worries but dismissing them.

He just wants to keep you close, and if serving his future wife is the only way to do that, then so be it.

_____

The following morning marks the beginning of your role as a lady-in-waiting, a position typically earned after years of loyal service—a fact not lost on the resentful gazes of your fellow servants at the dining table. Even your chamber companions shun you, refusing to share the bunk, a clear display of their disdain. Although Princess Mia kindly offers you a separate bed closer to her quarters, accepting would only stoke the flames of their animosity.

As you walk the hallways adorned in your new uniform, a sense of pride swells within you. The sea blue cotton dress may lack the opulence of the Chamberlain's or any other higher ranking servant’s attire, but its significance is not lost on you. It represents a step up from your previous maid garments, a symbol of newfound status and responsibility.

The guards at the door inspect you and your new look, both smiling widely before stepping out of the way to give you a pathway to the Princess’ door.

Tipping your head courteously, you knock on the grand oak doors, awaiting approval to enter. However, when it does not come, you open them slightly, examining the room to find your lady. A lump is formed under the covers of the bed, meaning she could only be in one place.

You gently shut the double doors behind you before carefully gliding over to the window to open the curtains.

Back home, your brothers had a tendency to do as the Princess is doing just now - hiding to avoid going about their duties. You expect it from teenage boys, not from the Princess of an entire kingdom.

“Princess Mia, you have an appointment this morning,” you say firmly, hoping she will wake up.

A muffled groan escapes beneath the layers of quilts covering her head, "Please, Y/N, I have a dreadful allergy to the sun," she jokes.

With a gentle tug, you draw back the final curtain, "My apologies, Your Highness, but I am under strict orders from the King to ensure you join them for breakfast," you explain with a warm smile.

She shifts beneath the covers before casting them aside, revealing her upper half with a resigned sigh, "I understand, Y/N. It is not your doing," she concedes, stretching as if aiming for the heavens, "But you should know, I harbour a great distaste for mornings. If I seem irritable, it’s hardly your fault."

You can't help but admire her even in her morning disarray, her features possessing an otherworldly allure. Though the kingdom boasts many beauties, encountering someone of her stature feels like a rare privilege.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she finally meets your gaze with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Shall we, Y/N?" she says, gracefully swinging her legs off the bed and rising to her feet with a fluid motion that speaks of innate poise.

“Would you like me to assist you with your bath or would you prefer some privacy?” you query, making her bed as she glances out the window.

Princess Mia is like any one of your friends back home, an ease of friendliness passes between you the more you speak. There's a pang of wishful thinking, a part of you hoped she'd embody the snobbishness rumoured about her, offering an easy target for animosity towards her relationship with your former love. But she is far removed from her rumours.

“Neither,” she begins to pull you away from your task of making the bed and pushes you towards the bathroom, “Perhaps I could use the company more than anything.”

Turning the taps to fill her bath, you steal another glance at her as she strips off her nightgown, marvelling at her delicate features: the velvety smoothness of her skin, the graceful curves that seem sculpted by an artist's hand, and the perkiness of her ass, reminiscent of a ripe peach.

In contrast, your own reflection reveals a different story - dry skin marked by scars from old scabies, a dullness that overshadows any hint of radiance, and a figure that pales in comparison, lacking the perfection of hers.

You would be foolish to think for a second you could compete with her for Jaeyun’s love.

As she steps into the running bath, you prepare the soap, handing it to her which she accepts with a smile.

“How long have you worked for the Glengyre royal family?” she asks, lathering up the soap and washing it over her body.

"Just under a year, Your Highness," you respond, realising in this moment that you have been here for much longer than desired. Being away from your brothers for this long was never part of the plan, and the ache to see them again gnaws at your heart, the letters exchanged barely enough to quell your longing.

Princess Mia lounges in the bath, leaning her chin on the edge as she speaks with you, “Tell me honestly, from a peasant perspective, are they good people?”

The question is a hefty one, one that you are not prepared for. It is no secret that you have a distaste for the King and Queen, however, your judgement upon them can only lead to your travesty, so you ponder how to navigate the question while still maintaining some honesty.

“Well, the King and Queen try their best,” you begin, eyes pointed downward, “And the Prince…”

How would one describe Prince Jaeyun? Loyal, honest, kindhearted, fearless, a true King. But how do you say it while hiding your feelings for him? Your brain wants to tell the Princess how Jaeyun kisses with such desire and passion, and his whispers of affection and adoration serve you to believe he is straight from one of Shakespeare's sonnets. He was much more than a noble Crown Prince, he was the love of your life, and you wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

She pokes you gently with a finger, drawing you back from your reverie, "Y/N?"

"Oh, my apologies," you offer a strained smile, hoping she didn’t catch on to your longing gaze, "Prince Jaeyun is undoubtedly a man of great virtue and integrity, worthy to ascend the throne and lead his people," you reply, striving for a diplomatic tone that hides the depth of your affection for him.

"And how will he be as a husband?"

You fluster, your brain now inappropriately recalling his touches and lingering lips while his bride-to-be is a mere foot away, “I couldn’t possibly comment on that, Your Highness,” you deflect, inwardly cursing your traitorous thoughts.

“But from your perception, someone of your lower class has no reason to lie to me regarding your Prince, I would value your honesty,” she insists, playing with the water that envelopes her.

Sighing, you yield, “He will make a fantastic husband. His loyalty to those he loves knows no bounds,” you concede, swallowing the bitter pill of truth as you reluctantly paint a portrait of Jaeyun as a desirable suitor, knowing it may only serve to bring them closer together.

The Princess slips lower into the bathtub, leaving just her head above the water, "He does not love me, though," she acknowledges, her voice heavy with sorrow as if she were voicing the truth for the first time, "He made it clear that his heart belongs elsewhere, that he could never give it to me."

You feel a surge of tension at her words, a glimmer of hope blossoming in your heart at Jaeyun's implied feelings. It's a bittersweet realisation, knowing that he still holds love for you as deeply as you do for him, yet, not one of you can do anything about it.

Standing from the stool beside the bathtub, you pick up a towel and hold it out for the Princess to take, but she does not move, instead, she continues her questioning, “Who does he love, Y/N?”

The sickness that sits in your stomach bubbles to your throat, word vomit willing you on to scream at her that it is you he belongs to, that his heart is yours and yours is his. But you dare not utter such a confession.

“He loves his people, Your Highness, they are who have his heart,” you stand strong, pushing the towel further in her face, using it as a barricade so she cannot witness your wet eyes.

Princess Mia removes herself from the tub, idly lost in her thoughts, “We have that in common,” her tone airy as she remembers her people back home.

She is a good person, her thoughtfulness and kindness showcase this, and you know she will make a fantastic addition to Jaeyun’s faction. With her as his wife, they will do great things for Glengyre.

_____

As the first rays of dawn break through the stained glass windows of the castle, you find yourself standing alongside Princess Mia at the grand breakfast table, the delicate clinking of silverware and murmured conversations filling the air. Your gaze couldn't help but flicker nervously toward the entrance, anticipation mounting with each passing moment as you awaited Jaeyun's arrival.

It is hard to be so close yet so out of reach to someone you used to be tangled with.

Prince Jaeyun and his trusted valet, Heeseung, make their grand entrance into the opulent dining hall, instantly commanding the attention of all present. His piercing gaze sweeps across the room, briefly meeting Princess Mia's eyes before seeking out your own.

You have lined yourself up with the other maids, a habit from your past role. Heeseung approaches you with a warm smile, his voice carrying a hint of understanding as he addresses you, "Miss Y/N, valets typically stand to the left," he gently reminds you, gesturing for you to join him. Grateful for Heeseung's kindness and guidance, you offer him a respectful bow before obediently following his lead.

As you traverse the room, keeping your head low in deference, you feel a soft touch against your hand, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was, the touch sending sparks to your heart.

Jaeyun is playing with fire, he knows it’s risky to even gaze upon you too long, yet his heart yearns for you and your touch, causing him to act irrationally. Your heart is a magnet and it is drawing him in the closer you are to him.

In a brief moment of recklessness, Jaeyun slips a folded piece of paper into your palm before releasing his grip, the covert exchange going unnoticed by everyone save the two of you. Quickly you tuck the piece of paper up your sleeve and stand in your designated space.

As the Royals take their seats, anticipation pervades the air, with the tantalising smells of the lavish meal enticing even the most controlled appetites.

“How fares the Princess this morning?” Heeseung inquires softly, a faint smile gracing his lips as he casts his gaze ahead.

“Quite well. And what of the Prince?” you respond, hoping for a glimpse into your former lover’s wellbeing.

Heeseung's sigh is filled with gravity, his words hint at a heavy burden borne by the Prince, "Disheartened, I'm afraid," he says quietly.

The confession elicits a sharp intake of breath from you, brows knit together in confusion as you silently implore Heeseung to elaborate. "I believe it's due to the wedding being expedited to this Friday," he declares, his words sinking in with unexpected weight.

“What?!” your exclamation escapes your lips before you can temper it, a mix of shock and disbelief colouring your tone, reverberating through the room with an unintended volume.

Jaeyun, catching wind of your distressed reaction, turns his gaze towards you, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. Sensing his eyes upon you, you quickly avert your gaze, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

You know you cannot be with him but you presumed you had more time to become accustomed to Princess Mia around the castle and before you lose him forever, “Isn’t the Princess required to occupy Glengyre for at least 3 months? Isn’t it customary for her to know our land and the people before she takes such a vow?” you question.

“Apparently, she does not need 3 months. The arrangement has altered slightly,” he looks down at you.

“How can that be?” You don’t mean to bombard the valet with your senseless questioning, but nothing makes sense to you, “How will she know what is best for this kingdom if she does not actively know it? How will she best know how to take the role of Princess of Glengyre?”

Heeseung breathes out, “She won’t be, Prince Jaeyun is to be crowned King Consort of Lethamhill once they marry and fulfil his duties there,” his tone is filled with sorrow.

You're taken aback by Heeseung's revelation, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place, "But if Jaeyun becomes the King Consort of Lethamhill, what about Glengyre?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to speak the words aloud, “Who will take the place of the King once he passes?”

“It is blasphemy to speak about the King’s death so frivolously!” Heeseung exclaims in a hushed tone, his jaw clenched. Heeseung was a royal guard before he was Jaeyun’s man-in-waiting, the blood of the royal navy still runs rampant through his veins, his honour to the king noble even if slightly blinded.

You offer an apology, bowing your head and feigning shame, “Sorry, I shall never utter the words so haphazardly again.”

He nods, stature returning to his elegant stance, "It's a complicated matter," Heeseung replies, his tone laced with sympathy, "The merger between the kingdoms is more than it seems. Lethamhill is in dire need of assistance after the turmoil caused by the war. The arrangement serves to benefit both kingdoms but it is Glengyre who is set to prosper.”

You are not understanding Heeseung’s words, which only causes hindrance in this conversation, “Excuse my ignorance, but I do not understand.”

“Lethamhill is on the brink of destruction, the King believes if Prince Jaeyun were to be crowned King Consort, he would be able to fully take Lethamhill for himself. King James and Queen Elizabeth will resign their titles for their daughter as part of the deal, leaving our Crown Prince in charge with only the need of convincing Princess Mia to follow his plans.”

You whip your head to face Heeseung, “So Lethamhill is to be no more? What of its people?” your heart races at the thought of thousands of innocent lives tangled in this game of political power.

“They are not the King and Prince’s concern, they serve Glengyre and Glegyre alone,” he says quietly.

There is a weight in your chest akin to an anchor, bringing your remaining hope and happiness for this merger down into the pits of your stomach. The merger is a visage, a guise for your King to be completely in control.

This was never about peace, this was always going to be about power.

“And does Prince Jaeyun know about this?” you ask astonished. Surely, if Jaeyun knew of the inner workings of his father, he would put a stop to it all. Although Jaeyun lives to serve his people, he would never sacrifice others to replenish Glengyre, it’s the reason he has always voted against war.

Heeseung's gaze remains firm, "Of course he does," he replies sternly, "You think the Prince would be kept in the dark about something like this?"

As Heeseung's words sink in, a wave of realisation washes over you, accompanied by a sense of betrayal. You can only hope Jaeyun has a bigger plan, one that can save both kingdoms from perishing.

______

As night descends upon the castle, you navigate the dimly lit corridors with determined steps, your mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Jaeyun's cryptic note had beckoned you to the Council c

Chambers under the cover of darkness, although, you were conflicted with the idea knowing his plans now to infiltrate Lethamhill from within.

However, this served as your chance to speak directly to Jaeyun and figure out what his true intentions are. Every atom of your being is saying he cannot be so foolish as to destroy a country just in the hopes of building up his own, but you still approach the meeting with a wary heart.

With a heavy push, you open the door and the memories of your final night together flood your mind. But you refuse to be swayed by the urge within your body and heart; you must find out what is truly going on.

The room is cloaked in shadows, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. As you step inside, the air seems charged with tension, every creak of the floorboards echoing in the silence.

Jaeyun is leaning against the very desk he made love to you on countless times, the very desk you promised your undying love to him. His head whips up as he hears you enter the Council Chamber, his body lit by the moon and nothing more, yet, you can see the twinkle in his eyes as if it is a bright summer’s morning.

He stands as you edge closer to him, "It's been too long since I was graced with such beauty in my lone presence," he remarks, his voice soft and warm. His hand moves instinctively to find your hips, but you step back, the tension in the air palpable.

"Tell me it isn’t true," you implore, your heart pounding in your chest as you search his eyes for reassurance, desperate for him to dispel the troubling rumours that have plagued your thoughts.

Jaeyun's brow furrows in confusion, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity, "Tell me what isn't, my love?" he responds, his voice laced with genuine confusion.

"Don't call me that. You have no right anymore," you respond sharply, your voice tinged with bitterness. The pain of betrayal simmers just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"You'll always be my love, Y/N," Jaeyun insists, his tone pleading as he reaches out to you, but you hold yourself stiffly, refusing to be swayed by his familiar touch.

"But you're not mine, not if what I heard is true," you retort, your voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and anger.

Jaeyun's expression softens, "What did you hear?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid of the answer.

In Jaeyun’s eyes, he has done nothing wrong. He has kept Princess Mia at a respectable length at all times, never shared the same bed, and made it abundantly clear that this marriage will harbour no love as he already gave his heart to someone else - to you.

Which could only mean you know one thing.

You feel a surge of frustration welling up inside you, threatening to implode as you confront Jaeyun with the truth.

"That you are to marry Princess Mia for the sole purpose of becoming king and take complete control of Lethamhill," you reveal, your voice trembling as you lay bare the painful reality of the situation, “Please, Jaeyun, tell me this isn’t true. Tell me otherwise.”

You feel the weight of each word as it leaves your lips. The dim light from the moon casts long shadows across the room, adding to the solemn atmosphere as you confront Jaeyun, the man you once thought you knew so well.

You are begging him to prove your mind wrong, to let you in on a lavish plan that bonds the countries together by outwitting his father.

Yet he offers nothing.

For a moment, there is silence between you, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. Your figure tightens as any hope you had for him, for this to be a lie, slowly dwindles away.

Finally, Jaeyun speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/N, please understand," he begins, his tone pleading as he searches for the right words to convey his thoughts, “It is not by choice.”

“There is always a choice, Jaeyun,” you spit back at him, head thumping with the realisation that Jaeyun does not have an ulterior motive, he is going along with the plan to destroy Lethamhill, “What was the point of agreeing to marry Princess Mia and avoiding war when you are only going to cause one anyway?”

Jaeyun's shoulders sag under the weight of your accusation, his gaze dropping to the floor as he wrestles with his conscience, "It isn't like that," he protests weakly, his voice tinged with sorrow, "There will be no war."

“But people will be hurt and in consequence, they will die. That to me is no better than war,” you counter, your voice laced with agitation.

“Some may die but our people will be safe,” he insists, his words ringing around the room.

You seethe as he shows no willingness to relent; you sacrificed true love, your happiness, all for the better of the kingdom you call home, and yet Jaeyun sets make a fool of it. Your kingdom may flourish, but it will be covered in a sea of blood and power. Glengyre will no longer be a place you can call home if this were to be the case.

“But what of Princess Mia’s people? They will surely perish,” you argue, your heart breaking at the thought of innocent lives that will be lost in the name of power and control.

Jaeyun sighs, his expression haunted as he grapples with the weight of his decisions, "I took an oath to protect my kingdom," he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the din of your thoughts.

You step forward, jaw tightening and fists clenched, “And you will take an oath on Friday,” you remind him, your voice thick with disappointment, “To their kingdom, to be their leader and save them from their current state.”

“The King-”

“Enough! No excuses. The king does not have a final say once you are to be wed. You will be crowned King Consort of Lethamhill, you get to have the final decision as to what to do, what is best.”

Jaeyun's hand hesitates midair, trembling as if caught in a tempest of conflict. Your impassioned words strike at the very core of his being, awakening a sense of clarity amidst the fog. For the first time, he begins to see the shadow that his father's influence has cast over him, distorting his once unyielding sense of honour and integrity.

In your unwavering presence, he discovers a beacon, guiding him back to the principles he formerly valued.

“My love-” he starts, but you interject once again.

“No. Until you return the Jaeyun I once knew, the man that I love, I am not yours,” you back away slowly, voice trembling as tears prick your eyes, “I belong to him, to my Jaeyun, not you.”

_____

Two days later, you stand outside Miss Son's office, the oak door imposing yet familiar. The flickering torches cast dancing shadows across the corridor, adding an eerie ambience to the castle's interior. Your heart pounds in your chest as you raise your hand to knock, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders.

With the wedding tomorrow, you do not know how she will react to your request.

The door creaks open, revealing the warm glow of Miss Son's office. Stepping inside, you're enveloped by the scent of parchment and ink, a comforting aroma that reminds you of countless meetings and tasks undertaken within these walls.

"Come in," Miss Son's voice breaks through your reverie, and you enter, feeling a mixture of nerves and determination.

"Miss Son, I'm afraid I must pardon myself from my role," you state, the words coming out in a rush.

Miss Son's expression softens with concern as she listens to your explanation, “Why so suddenly? Is Princess Mia giving you a hard time?” She leans forward, her gaze unwavering as she waits for you to continue.

"No, no, she is quite lovely...I fear I haven't seen my brothers in a long time. I think it is time for me to go back and care for them," you explain, your voice faltering slightly as you try to mask the true reason behind your decision.

Miss Son's eyes narrow, a knowing glint in her gaze, "Are you sure this has nothing to do with the Crown Prince marrying the Princess?" she asks gently, her tone filled with understanding.

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. The truth hangs heavy in the air, begging to be acknowledged.

"Whatever do you mean?" you reply, though you know she sees right through your facade.

“I mean, I am head of over one hundred servants, I know everything that happens within these castle walls,” she gestures around the room with her finger, eyebrows raised expectantly, “You and Prince Jaeyun lack discretion. Sneaking around, leaving traces of yourself which I have had to clean up, you are both useless at this secret love affair.”

Of course, she knew everything. You and Jaeyun were not exactly quiet in your passionate encounters and pieces of your uniform lay in different areas of the castle; you just thought you were both extremely lucky, but it happens that your luck is named Miss Son.

“I understand why you must leave but it will be a great shame to lose you, Miss Y/N,” she offers a smile of sympathy before gesturing you away quickly, “Now go get some rest and leave tomorrow morning. With the commotion of the wedding, you should be able to sneak out with ease.”

You bow appreciatively to her, muttering an almost silent thank you as you retreat to your bed chambers, your bones heavy with sorrow.

_____

The tranquillity of the maid's chambers envelops you as you nestle beneath your threadbare quilt, its thin fabric offering little comfort against the weight of your thoughts. With the royal wedding looming just 17 hours away, sleep eludes you as you mentally chart your journey back home.

The prospect of reuniting with your brothers brings a bittersweet relief, a respite from the tumult that swirls within the castle walls. However, when you think about your impending departure, you can't shake the lingering anguish that pulls at your heartstrings, tying you to this location despite your desire to move on.

Jaeyun.

As you ponder the situation laid before you, you wonder whether Jaeyun fully comprehends the ramifications of his decisions. Half of your heart longs to remain by his side, hoping to guide him away from the path of destruction. But you cannot be by his side, not after tomorrow.

The door to your room creaks open, the sound echoing softly in the dimly lit quarters. You lay still, pretending to be asleep, though your senses are alert to every sound and movement around you. You suspect it's one of the other maids, returning to collect some forgotten item before retiring for the night.

Miss Son has led the others to the tavern for a ‘light’ celebration ahead of the royal wedding. While it was meant to be a joyous occasion, the event only serves to heighten your anxiety. You would find little joy in the festivities, preferring the quiet solitude of your room.

As the footsteps draw closer to your bed, your pulse quickens, and you hold your breath, hoping to discourage any interaction. However, when you feel the mattress dip slightly and warm arms encircle your waist, your tension begins to ebb away.

The touch is unmistakably Jaeyun's, sending a jolt of both comfort and turmoil through your body. Despite your conflicting feelings, you find yourself relaxing into his embrace, seeking refuge in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“My love, I am sorry,” he says quietly, his lips peppering kisses to your shoulder blade, each kiss lingering longer than the last. His hands trace the outline of your figure as they etch along your waist and sides.

Jaeyun has never laid with you like this, the opportunities scarce in the secrets of the night, this moment only makes you wish you had taken more chances to hold one another close.

“Jaeyun, you cannot be here,” you state, trying to swallow your love and sorrow, but they’re far too big to choke down.

“Face me, Y/N,” he commands, his tone is not forceful but pleading. He needs you to look at him to fully see his emotions. As of right now, you think of him as a deceitful Prince, set to ruin innocent lives, and he will not stand for it, “Please.”

It is hard to face a man you love who seems to mirror only a shell of himself, yet, you turn around per his request. Perhaps it was the hierarchy that lay between you, or maybe it is just your love for him that outweighs any apprehension you have of him.

Your eyes meet and his heart stops, the tears in your eyes only exhibit how this is affecting you, “I cannot stand you being mad at me,” his lips pout as he speaks and you wish to kiss him like never before.

In your mind, if you kiss him right now it may cause a chain reaction in which he changes his mind on the matters of Lethamhill, but that is foolish thinking.

"Jaeyun, you know I cannot condone what you're doing," you reply softly, your voice laced with sadness, "This marriage, this plan - it is wrong. It goes against everything I thought you stood for."

He reaches out to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine, "I know, Y/N. Believe me, I never wanted any of this," he confesses, his voice laced with regret.

You search his eyes, grappling with conflicting emotions of love, anger, and betrayal. Regardless of the hurt, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope at his words. Maybe there's still a chance to sway him, to remind him of the man you once knew - the man who would never sacrifice his principles for power.

“My Jaeyun is in there somewhere, I know he is. Why can’t he be the one to rule as King Consort and make this right?” you beg, your hands playing with the tassels of his white nightshirt.

Jaeyun’s expression is unwavering with regret and pain, “He will be, I will make sure of it.”

“But how? I cannot see him when I look at you,” you retort, lip quivering at the prospect of losing him both figuratively and physically.

“He needs you to guide him, I need you to guide me, that much was clear today,” he begins, his lips find your shoulder once again, his teeth laying claim to you. All the marks from your previous encounters have begun to fade, leaving you bare for someone else to take hold, and he refuses to let that happen.

He must fix this.

Sucking on the base of your neck, his hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further into his body, your legs now sandwiched between his, “Today, you made me see my ways, how it was wrong of me to honour a vow to one kingdom and not another. I need you by my side.”

Being surrounded by his father and his men, their constant words or assurance that this is the right thing to do for Glengyre swayed him to believe it too. Then you put him in his place, allowing him to see how preposterous the plan was.

He needs you.

Jaeyun kisses up to the side of your mouth, his eyes now looking desperately into yours, “Please do not go tomorrow.”

“How did you know?”

“Miss Son, she told me,” he confesses.

Your hands lay splayed on his chest as you contemplate whether to bring him closer, or push him away, “How am I meant to stand by idly while I lose you and know of your plans?” you query.

It is selfish of him to ask such a request, he knows this, but he will not lose hope on you so easily, “Trust me, please, just trust me. If not as Prince Jaeyun, as your Jaeyun.”

His words echo in your mind, battling internally whether to fully put your faith in a man who not a few days ago swore destruction to people like yourself.

The room feels suffocatingly small as you grapple with your thoughts, his touch igniting a storm of conflicting feelings within you. His lips trailing along your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake, only serve to cloud your thoughts further.

But amidst the haze of uncertainty, there's a glimmer of hope - a flicker of the man you once knew, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. You can't help but cling to that hope, to the belief that somewhere within him, the true Jaeyun still exists.

His lips softly press themselves against yours, the feeling causing stray tears to slip from your eyes. You missed him and his kiss only served as evidence of his equal longing for you.

You grip onto his nightshirt and pull him to lay on top of you, the feeling of your lover in your arms is suddenly the only thing occupying your mind. All your worries and woes are now gone, washed away from your brain as his tongue slips into your mouth and his body is pressed heavily against you.

"I missed you terribly, my love," he murmurs against your lips, his words tinged with longing, "Tell me you thought of me?"

His yearning infuses his words, coaxing the last remnants of tears to escape your eyes, "Every waking moment was filled with thoughts of you," you confess, holding him tighter, seeking solace in his embrace.

Your admission blankets him with comfort, reassured by the enduring strength of your love. Initially, when you urged him to marry Princess Mia, part of him foolishly believed it was to liberate yourselves from secrecy and not just for the good of the people, that you grew tired of sneaking around the cold castle with him. Now, as he holds you close once more, your kisses igniting need, he realises the folly of that assumption.

With his right hand, he brushes aside the strap of your nightie, allowing your tit to spill slightly from its confines. The sight of your ample flesh awakens a hunger within Jaeyun, prompting him to lean in, his teeth gently grazing the curve of your breast.

His mouth leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses as he descends toward your nipple, delicately taking it into his mouth. With a mixture of tenderness and fervent desire, he nibbles and flicks the nub, his tongue swirling eagerly around it. His hands firmly grip your waist, anchoring your writhing body in place.

You're consumed by a desperate longing for him, craving his love once more, unable to wait as he teases your body.

Jaeyun knows that you both usually do not have time, opting for a quick session of raw passion before retreating to your chambers. But tonight is different. Tonight, there are no constraints, no fear of interruption or pressing obligations. Tonight, he is entirely yours, dedicated to fulfilling every desire and whim that you may have. Jaeyun had made sure every servant was out of the quarters till at least dawn.

What you thought was Miss Son’s idea was founded behind Jaeyun’s generosity.

As Jaeyun continues to lavish attention on your breast, his ministries grow more fervent, driven by the desire to reconnect with you. His lips and tongue work in tandem, igniting sparks of pleasure that course through your body like wildfire.

"Jaeyun," you moan, the sound escaping your lips in a breathless plea as his hand slips beneath your nightgown and into your panties, "I need you," you confess, your fingers tracing urgent paths up and down his back as you attempt to remove his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

"I know, darling, I know," he murmurs, his words intermingled with kisses that caress the sensitive flesh of your erect nipple, "But tonight, I want to savour every moment with you, to show you just how much you mean to me."

His touch ignites a fire within you as two of his fingers glide along the slick surface of your arousal, drawing forth a soft purr of satisfaction from your lips. Your body hums with anticipation, aching for his touch as he guides his digits to your entrance, the sensation of them slipping inside you with effortless ease sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

As Jaeyun's fingers delve deeper into your slick warmth, a gasp escapes your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch. Each stroke of your walls sends ripples of pleasure coursing through you, heightening the intensity of the moment.

His lips are back on yours as he thrusts his fingers in at a fast pace, his thumb now finding your clit as he rapidly flicks it back and forth. The motion causes you to breathe into his mouth, your lover feeling as though you are injecting him with newfound life. He knew he had missed you but having you like this, surrendering to his touch only made it much more evident in his heart.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N. You are utterly captivating, a masterpiece brought to life," he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

Despite your comparisons of yourself to Princess Mia that you made earlier, you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world with his words. And to him, you are. You will always be the most breathtaking girl he will ever see; not even Aphrodite holds a candle to you, especially not as your face contorts in pleasure.

Each curl and stretch of his fingers scissors you open, making you whine in his ear as you beg him to go faster, which he obliges, his forearm veins protruding as he tenses, putting all his might into pleasuring you.

His unrelenting tempo, along with the tantalising exploration of his tongue, drives you to the edge of bliss, preparing you for the impending release that pulses inside you like a building storm. "Jaeyun, I'm cumming," you manage to exclaim, your words muffled against his lips as you exchange air and need.

"Cum, my love. Let go for me," he pleads, his voice gruff as he grinds his hardness against the fragile flesh of your thigh, looking for some type of release. Trapped in his night bottoms, the throbbing in his loins worsens with each passing second.

With a rough curl of his fingers, you surrender to the torrent of sensation that crashes over you, crying out his name as pleasure consumes you whole. Your body convulses in the throes of orgasm, your essence spilling over his hand. You only wish it was his cock.

Luckily for you, he also dreams of being inside you, the friction on his dick unbearable as he watches you heave out short breaths as your body tries to regulate itself.

Jaeyun removes his hand from your swollen cunt, kneeling between your legs as he takes in your already spent body. But he isn’t finished with you.

Swiftly, Jaeyun sheds his clothing, the fabric falling to the floor in a whisper of motion before crawling back on top of you. He reaches for your nightgown's hem, sliding his fingertips over the shabby fabric as he tugs it up and over your head. In the dark light, your nude body is bathed in a delicate glow, a picture of ethereal beauty that makes him gasp with need.

As your bodies meld together, skin to skin, the electric current of desire arcs between you. His lips capture yours once again in a searing kiss, hands roaming over your body as he longs to feel every inch of you.

You can’t help but wonder if this will be the last time you have Jaeyun in your arms like this, so you have to make it count.

Sitting up, you feel a burst of confidence rush through you as you push him onto his back, your hands firmly grabbing his shoulders to keep him in place. The horror on his face only strengthens your urge to straddle him, a natural need propelling you forward.

His eyes widen in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, unaccustomed to you taking the lead in your lovemaking. But there's a spark of excitement in his eyes, an eagerness to yield to your touch and let you have your way with him.

Positioning yourself above him, you guide his erect cock beneath you, your core pulsating with excitement. You lower yourself onto him with tantalising slowness, the smooth heat of your sex wrapping around his length inch by inch.

As you start moving, a low sigh leaves his lips, and your hips swing back and forth, The sensation of his hardness buried deep within you sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins, starting a fire that threatens to engulf you both.

Jaeyun's whimpers of bliss fill the air, his hands tightening around your hips as he tries to match your relentless pace, pushing up to meet you with frantic desperation. "God, Y/N," he exclaims, his voice thick with need, "You feel incredible wrapped around me like this."

Your claws sink into his chest as you bounce with renewed zest, taking complete control. Your motions are quick and commanding, leaving him with no choice but to give in to the intense feelings racing through his body, "I've missed this," you admit, your voice heavy with desire, "missed the way you fill me up."

“You have?” he opens his eyes to see your tits bouncing up and down your chest, a sight he thought about most as he stroked his member in the shower while you were out of reach, “Do you want me to fill you up properly?” he asks in a mischievous tone, his hand pulling your head to meet his, cloaking your lips with his own.

Nodding, you mewl into his mouth as both of you groan simultaneously, the sound of skin slapping and your vocalised pleasure bouncing along the walls. It’s raw and passionate, it’s unlike any other time Jaeyun has fucked into you. It’s a memory you’ll cherish forever, especially if this was to be the last time.

“Y/N, my love, I can’t hold out much longer,” he confesses as his eyebrows scrunch together, trying to hold himself back from releasing into you until he knows you’re going to cum again.

Heeding your request, he grips your waist tight, halting your movements as he pistons into you, using all his might to bring you both to the peak. With 3 forceful thrusts, his hips stutter and legs tense as he shoots his seed into you, endless hot spurts painting your walls.

“Please cum inside me, let me feel it,” you beg between kisses, riding him so hard that your thin bed frame is on the verge of collapsing beneath you.

It feels like a dream to have his cum stuffed inside of you again, causing you to follow suit, cumming over his cock with a scream of his name, one that could surely be heard all the way to Lethamhill.

Jaeyun proceeds to buck his hips up into you, riding out your orgasms together as you collapse on top of him. The inside of your thighs tremble from your combined pleasure, and the intensity of your lovemaking leaves you both breathless and exhausted.

As you come down, you find yourselves tangled together in a mess of limbs and sweat, your bodies still humming with the aftershocks of your shared passion. And as you lie there, spent and sated in each other's arms, you only feel the love between both of you radiating through your shared pants.

Looking up at him, you see his eyes glazed with satisfaction, a lazy smile plastered on the Crown Prince’s gorgeous face. He always spoke about how you were a vision, yet he is the one with a beauty so rare it’s almost impossible to understand how he is real.

But he is and he is holding you in his arms as he slips out of you, pulling your body up to rest more comfortably on himself.

Your mind now clearing up from the fog of sex allows you to go back to your conversation before this impromptu session with him.

"Can you truly change the course of this plan?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you search his eyes for any sign of reassurance.

Jaeyun's gaze meets yours, unwavering in its intensity, "I will do whatever it takes to make things right, I will find a way to reconcile my duty with my conscience."

"I want to believe you," you admit, your voice trembling with vulnerability, "But I need more than words, Jaeyun. I need to see action, to know that you're truly committed to making amends."

Jaeyun nods solemnly, understanding the weight of your request. "I will show you, Y/N. I will prove to you that I am worthy of your trust," he vows, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your skin as if to imprint his promise upon you.

“How?”

“I have a plan, but I must detail it out first before I speak it aloud. Please, just trust me.”

_____

The castle is filled with people here to watch the wedding, the wedding you have been dreading since Jaeyun left your quarters last night. He snuck out in the early hours of the morning before the rest of the staff came home. It was a bittersweet goodbye, your bodies that were tangled with one another for hours were pried apart, possibly forever.

The final kiss he placed on your lips is all you can think about as you stand obediently with the other staff, Heeseung by your side as everyone awaits Princess Mia’s arrival. The buzz around the hall is electric yet you feel like an insect, the closer you get to the nuptials, the closer you are to being zapped in the heart.

You feel uneasy as you see Jaeyun fiddle with his ring, the one he will take from his right hand and place on his bride. The more you ponder, the more you come to the realisation that maybe you should have just left, gone home with the cloak of the wedding as your opportunity to flee.

But Jaeyun asked you to trust him, that he will do the right thing for everyone. The trust you have does not cancel out your breaking heart, however.

Dressed in his princely attire, Jaeyun exudes a regal air as he stands at the altar, his uniform immaculate and his demeanour poised. Every detail of his appearance seems meticulously crafted to accentuate his undeniable beauty, from the crisp white fabric adorned with intricate gold detailing to the way his dark locks are artfully styled to frame his face.

As the royal band fills the air with music, the grandeur of the moment is punctuated by the entrance of Princess Mia, a vision of grace and elegance. Jaeyun's gaze shifts to her, momentarily captivated by her presence, and you feel a pang of sadness knowing that this is the beginning of the end for you.

This was it, you were losing him before your very eyes, but you cannot be selfish. This was the right thing to do, a sacrifice you must abide by for the kingdom you love.

Truth be told, it is easier to come to terms with marriage now that you know Jaeyun will do whatever is in his power to truly bring solace between both Glengyre and Lethamhill. Before, once Heeseung revealed the malicious plans to you, you started to wonder if giving up your love was worth it or if it was all for nothing, but now you know it will not be in vain.

Princess Mia greets Jaeyun at the alter and curtsies, her fiance mirroring her action while you swallow the lump in your throat. There is a glint in both their eyes, while you know it isn’t love, you do question it with a pierced heart. If Jaeyun were to fall in love with her, which is not implausible considering even in the short-lived time you acted as her maid-in-waiting you witnessed how humble and gracious she is, just as Jaeyun is. They match perfectly in every way.

You fight the urge to cry as the ceremony gets underway, the Bishop beginning to unify them both together.

The moment arrives when the officiant solemnly intones, "If anyone present knows of any reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The weight of the words hangs heavy in the air, the tension palpable as the guests hold their breath.

Not a soul would be foolish enough to-

“We object.”

A choir of gasps fill the air as two harmonious voices speak their objection. Your eyes fall upon them as they smile at one another, letting go of their hands.

Prince Jaeyun and Princess Mia objected to their own wedding.

The shock reverberates through the room, eyes widen and murmurs erupt among the attendees. Not you nor Heeseung know what to do in this situation, both of you staring at Jaeyun with bewilderment, wondering what on earth he was doing.

Was this part of his grand plan?

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests of Glengyre and Lethamhill," he begins, his voice steady yet filled with conviction. "I stand before you today not only as your Prince but as a voice for justice and truth. For too long, a shadow of deceit has loomed over our kingdoms, orchestrated by none other than my own father, the King of Glengyre."

He pauses, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing with a sense of urgency, "It has come to my attention that he was exploiting this marriage as a means to hold Lethamhill hostage, to seize complete control and dominate its people. This nefarious plan would only bring harm and danger to both our kingdoms, jeopardizing the lives and well-being of our citizens. The exact opposite of what he has promised you all."

Beside him, Princess Mia nods in agreement, her expression mirroring his determination, "Furthermore," Jaeyun continues, "Princess Mia has brought to my attention disturbing revelations regarding her father, King James of Lethamhill. It has been made clear to us that he seeks to exploit this union to unlawfully seize land and resources from Glengyre, with the intent of displacing our people to expand his own domain."

The outrage in his voice is palpable, his eyes flashing with defiance as he declares, "Princess Mia and I stand united in our outrage and determination to put an end to these injustices. We refuse to allow our kingdoms to be pawns in the power games of corrupt rulers. It is time for us to take a stand."

Jaeyun’s eyes flicker to you as he utters his next words.

“We will not be getting married.”

Your knees buckle beneath you, a surge of relief and disbelief flooding through every fiber of your being. The love of your life, the one you were on the brink of losing forever, stands before you, his gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding. A small, reassuring smile graces his lips

Beside him, Princess Mia commands attention with unwavering confidence, her voice ringing out with authority, "They are not worthy to rule over our sacred lands," she declares, her words cutting through the tension like a sharpened blade. Her gaze pierces through the gathered officials, her unwavering resolve a stark contrast to their shock, "Their sinister schemes amount to nothing short of treason against the kingdoms they swore to protect," she continues, her tone unwavering, "We demand their immediate dethronement and call for this wedding to be transformed into a coronation for both myself and Prince Jaeyun."

The reaction from the royal box is instantaneous, a cacophony of outraged protests and indignant exclamations filling the air. The two Kings, their faces flushed with fury, rise from their seats in a display of unbridled anger, their voices drowned out by the resounding tumult.

“You cannot do this! I am the rightful King of Glengyre,” Jaeyun’s father shouts across the room.

Jaeyun smiles mockingly to his father, “You are right, we cannot do this, not without a vote from the people of our kingdoms,” he says matter of factly.

As the commotion reaches its peak, Jaeyun and Princess Mia stand firm, their resolve unshaken by the storm of dissent around them. Together, they face the fury of the royal box with unwavering determination, their eyes locked in a silent exchange of solidarity.

Despite the chaos, Jaeyun's voice rises above the din, his words infused with unwavering conviction, "We will not allow our kingdoms to be held hostage by the greed and treachery of a few individuals," he declares, his tone ringing out with authority. "It is our duty as leaders to uphold the values of justice and integrity, to safeguard the well-being of our people above all else."

Princess Mia adds her voice to his, her words echoing his sentiments with equal fervour, "We stand united against tyranny and corruption," she proclaims, her gaze sweeping over the crowd with steely resolve, "Together, we will forge a future built on trust, compassion, and unity."

Heeseung looks to you, eyes wide as if begging for answers, yet, you cannot offer him any. You knew Jaeyun had a plan but to go out on a limb like this was not what you were expecting. Shaking your head, your eyes scan the crowd to see their reaction, each face equally as shocked as they are appalled by the Kings’ true intentions with this union.

“Please stand with us. If you wish for Princess Mia and myself to be respective leaders of our kingdoms, Say I,” Jaeyun exudes confidence in his stature but you look at his hand which is fiddling with his jacket, a telltale sign that he is nervous.

Who would not be nervous? This could end in death for both Jaeyun and Princess Mia. If they do not have the people on their side, the Kings will seek to execute them, that much is a given.

The guests in the pews whisper to one another, the discussions hushed as they consider Jaeyun’s words. Your heart races as you await the collective response from the guests. Will they stand with Jaeyun and Princess Mia, or will fear and uncertainty prevail, leaving them isolated and vulnerable to the wrath of the Kings? The air is heavy with anticipation, each second stretching into an eternity as the fate of Glengyre and Lethamhill hangs in the balance.

“I,” a voice from beside you yells out, causing you to flinch. Heeseung, the once esteemed royal guard makes the first vocalisation of agreement. It shocks you considering he was always one to worship the king, “I give my faith to a new king,” he stands forward, kneeling before Jaeyun.

His actions cause a domino effect, echoes of ‘I’ and ‘Here here’ can be heard throughout the hall, each person projecting their trust in their Prince and Princess.

The prince looks at you with pleading eyes, hoping your trust can be stretched to this moment.

“I,” you say, the words are lost amongst the commotion but Jaeyun sees it, the love in your eyes, the trust in him to lead the kingdom you hold dear to your heart. Although he must get the approval of all his people, you are the one he needs it from the most. Without your support, he doesn’t feel fit enough to be King.

“Guards, please see the Kings out,” he orders before turning to face the bishop, “Would you do the honours of coronating us, your grace,” he bows, showing his respect.

“Kneel before me, Your Highness,” the Bishop speaks softly.

The hall once filled with chaos and debacle is now silent, smiles and hearts full as their honourable Crown Prince is made King of Glengyre. You have never felt pride for the royal family, but you know that will all change now.

As he is crowned, a hush falls over the hall, a reverent silence that speaks volumes of the significance of this moment. Jaeyun, now King of Glengyre, rises from his kneeling position with a newfound solemnity, his eyes shining with determination and purpose. Beside him, Princess Mia also kneels, her hand clasped firmly in his as they prepare to lead their kingdoms into a new era of prosperity and unity.

The Bishop's voice carries through the hall as he recites the ancient words of coronation, his tone reverent and ceremonial. With each word spoken, the weight of responsibility settles upon Jaeyun's shoulders, a reminder of the solemn duty he has undertaken to rule justly and with compassion.

As the final words of the coronation ritual echo through the hall, Jaeyun and Princess Mia exchange a meaningful glance, their bond strengthened by the vows they have made before their people. They will do what their fathers couldn’t.

“There is to be a party to celebrate the union tonight, the entirety of the kingdoms are invited,” King Jaeyun proclaims, beaming with pride before ushering Queen Mia out of the hall.

With the commotion of happiness and celebration, you get swept up by Heeseung, swinging you around in his arms. The feeling leaves you with a sense of purpose and gratitude to both rulers of the kingdoms. They did what most would be too scared to do, a testament to their love for their citizens.

_____

The night sky above Glengyre is ablaze with the glow of a thousand lanterns, casting a warm and inviting light over the festivities below. The sound of laughter and music fills the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of roasted meats and spiced wines. People from all walks of life gather in the grand courtyard of the castle, their differences set aside as they come together to celebrate the dawn of a new era. Never in your years of living did you think you would ever see such a promise for the people.

Jaeyun ordered carriages and carts to bring those on the outskirts of the kingdoms to the castle, making good on his promise. He wanted everyone to be part of this victory, especially those who had suffered at the hands of his father.

Effortlessly, Jaeyun navigates through the people, garnering respect and esteem from everyone he comes into contact with. He pauses to meet and converse with both royalty and peasants, his sincere kindness and humility converting even the most cynical minds.

Barrels of liquor and wine line the perimeter, and long tables creak beneath the weight of indulgent treats, transforming the courtyard into a true feast. Musicians play lively tunes, encouraging guests to dance and revel late into the night.

You, amidst the crowd of celebrants, are witnessing a momentous occasion. You are witnessing how a kingdom ripped apart by conflict and division can come together under a banner of growth and optimism. And you see that Glengyre's future is more promising than ever when you see the happy smiles of your fellow citizens.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Jaeyun’s low voice whispers beside you as he rests his hand on the lower part of your back. Instinctively, you go to move away, scared to be seen, but he holds you in place, hand gripped tight.

Looking into his eyes, you find yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, each flicker of light reflecting his unwavering determination. His touch sends a shiver down your spine as he gently kisses your hand, a gesture that feels both intimate and surreal.

"I trust you to be a fine king," you murmur softly, sincerity lacing every word. "It already looks good on you," you add with a playful smirk, admiring his regal presence and undeniable charisma.

Jaeyun chuckles, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spins around, basking in your laughter. The joyous sound fills the air, a melody that he never tires of hearing. When he finally stands before you again, his expression grows serious, his hands still clasping yours.

"You know, being a queen would look good on you," he remarks, his tone teasing yet earnest.

You scoff incredulously, unable to fathom such a notion. "Perhaps one could dream of that in another lifetime."

"Why not this one?" Jaeyun counters, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes.

Confusion clouds your features as you struggle to comprehend his meaning. Before you can protest further, he continues, his words carrying a weight that leaves you breathless.

"Well, I am a king without a queen. It does look rather pathetic, doesn’t it?" he jests lightly, his smile masking the gravity of his declaration. "But with you by my side…"

The implications of his words hit you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you reeling in disbelief. "You cannot make me queen, Jaeyun," you protest weakly, your heart fluttering erratically at the mere thought.

Jaeyun's smile softens, his gaze filled with tenderness as he squeezes your hands reassuringly. "But when I marry you, you will not have a choice."

The weight of his proclamation hangs heavy in the air, each syllable sinking into your consciousness with undeniable clarity. To marry Jaeyun is a dream beyond your wildest imaginings, a fantasy that you never dared to entertain. Yet here he stands, offering you a future that you once believed to be unattainable.

"That is preposterous, Jaeyun. You can’t marry a maid," you protest, the words tumbling from your lips in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

Shrugging, he lets go of your hands, “It is not the most scandalous thing I have done this week,” he smirks, eyebrows wiggling as you both recall the events that just happened a mere few hours ago.

Taking the ring from his right pinky finger, he holds it out to you, face serious now, "Marry me," he implores, his voice filled with earnestness, "be the queen our people need. I trust no one but you to help guide me to better serve this kingdom."

Your throat tightens with emotion, tears brimming in your eyes as you gaze at the ring before you, a symbol of love and commitment. It is a moment that takes your breath away, a choice that will shape the course of your future and the destiny of your kingdom.

As you reach out to take the ring, the weight of Jaeyun's words hangs heavy in the air. Marrying him would mean stepping into a world of royalty, a world you never imagined yourself a part of. Yet, with each passing moment, the idea becomes more alluring.

But reality crashes in, reminding you of the vast chasm that separates your worlds. "Jaeyun, you know I cannot," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with both longing and resignation, "I am but a maid, not worthy of such a title."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine, "You are worthy of so much more than you realise, Y/N," he insists, his voice gentle but unwavering, "You have already proven yourself to be a queen in every way that matters."

His words resonate within you, stirring something deep within your soul. For so long, you had resigned yourself to the confines of your station, never daring to reach for something beyond your grasp. But now, faced with the possibility of a future with Jaeyun, you find yourself daring to believe in the impossible.

Gently, he slides the ring onto your finger, and you feel a rush of warmth flood through you as if sealing a pact with destiny itself. Looking up at Jaeyun, you find yourself unable to speak, overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment.

Without a word, Jaeyun pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to reassure you of his love and commitment. In that embrace, you feel a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose that you never thought possible.

“I love you, Y/N. I am at your mercy as your future husband and as your king.”

You smile widely, sniffling away the happiness of tears that fall from your face, “I love you, too, Jaeyun. I vow myself to you forever.”

Your husband-to-be kisses the top of your head as he pulls away, joy radiating from every atom of his being, “Let us celebrate, perhaps in the council chamber?” he teases, fingers trickling up your forearms.

With a sarcastic rolling of your eyes, you follow him. Not just for tonight, but forever.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #jake smut #jake sim smut #aj writes #enhypen angst #enha angst

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shadesoflsk · 4 months

Text

RETROSPECTION & OUTCOME

pairing: leon kennedy x afab reader.

summary: The journey of healing is not an easy one. Obstacles and doubts filled the path Leon decided to take. However, the agent had planted the seed of self improvement and with your help, a strong and resilent tree will grow.

warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of reader being a nurse, age gap (reader is 25+) angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of gore, blood and violence, no alcohol consumption but Leon attempts to, Leon's inner thoughts, self doubts, lack of self confidence (from Leon's part) mild mentions of religion trauma, smut, handjob, Leon cries during it, kind of switch Leon, needy Leon (give him a hug please) p in v, creampie, fluffy at the end (yipeee)

word count: 14k

author's note: helloooo :] This is my first try at writing a long fic, I had so much fun writing it. It all started as a character study for Leon and then it ended up as... this lmao. For the first chapters, I had vendetta Leon in mind and at the last one we finally have DI Leon! Please... if you see any mistakes no you don't. Anyway love you guys hope you like this as much as I do.

— masterlist

I. ETERNAL DAMNATION.

His cold blue eyes are a pool of misery and misfortune. The dreadful gaze of an individual who once was and continues to be subject to the violent reality of what a government can do.

He remains stoic to whatever adversity he has to face, one look at him and you would believe this man has no feelings whatsoever. He kills, he gets paid, repeat. A never-ending loop in which many would believe Leon finds pleasure. Especially since he carries himself as the Government Golden Boy aka best weapon. To use and to dispose of, Leon S. Kennedy.

Shoulder pats and praise words stir up a pot filled with anger and hatred — emotions that Leon doesn't often feel with others, just with himself.— He tries not to dwell on them, but it gets so difficult and challenging whenever he hears that his own achievements are cause for celebration. Do these assholes know how many people, infected people, he had to kill in order to bring peace? No, they don’t. Unbeknownst to them, those people could have been saved.

At least in Leon’s mind.

The suited men surround him. Privilege and smugness are qualities that Leon would often use to describe what those who hire his service are. Those congratulations and fake praises ring in Leon’s mind as he keeps thinking about the people he had to betray and kill for the ‘sake’ of his country, for his nation, and for the ego of his president.

But he takes the compliments, like a good boy. The president believes he hit the jackpot with a rightful agent who is proud of his country. God Bless America and in God we trust, he says as his hand reaches for Leon’s. The blue-eyed agent hesitates each time, out of fear of tainting his oh-so-dear boss’ white shirt. Because nobody cared enough to spare him new clothes and a wet towel to clean himself. A trophy to show the world what a powerful human weapon they had. Rough, tall, and with calloused hands, hands of a killer.

Leon S. Kennedy is proof of what the cruelty of a government can do. He is no longer a human, but the shell of a man. His name is printed in many documents which shows the gruesome acts he had to endure, in the name of the country. “Agent Leon S. Kennedy had successfully retrieved a sample of the virus.” “Condor One saved Baby Eagle.” He has received a plethora of names yet none of them really encapsulated who he was.

They have shown that they do not care about their citizens, like at all. Raccoon City was a prime example of that. He sounds like a broken record, the memory replaying in his memory every mission he gets assigned. But, for him, it was his first-hand experience with how cruel and gruesome reality could be.

Tough call, they say. We did what we could, they added. Leon knows all of those phrases by heart now. His gentle nature remains in him, even though it was covered by layers of a rough past and self-taught distrust. But even now, at his grown age, he fully believes they could have done so much more.

His mind is all over the place whenever he comes back from a mission. The usual white and never-changing walls surround everyone at the gathering that the president holds each time Leon ‘succeeds’ in a mission. His fingers seek any type of comfort, they twitch, they pinch his own clothes but nothing works.

People notice, they do. It’s obvious that the spotlight is on him yet he never embraces it. Simple nods and awkward smiles are his way to go and signature gestures. Deep inside, he knows those white-collared dicks spare him weird and pitiful glances every chance they get.

His chest burns with a desire for solidarity and altruism. He feels a lot and feels everything too deep for his own liking. His core dances between his hatred for heroism and the need to be a hero. He doesn’t believe he’s one. Throughout his life he has contemplated who he is and the type of man he has grown to be. His mind is a living hell and he’s the demon incarnated.

He wonders when it all started. Maybe he was doomed for the start, as he stood in front of his parents’ grave asking God why.

Deuteronomy 31:8; “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” The catholic father who used to hold the mass every Sunday said one morning. Now, did God forget about him? He should have prayed harder, to escape his own damnation.

Strained screams and the reek of rotten flesh fill his dreams. Madness and chaos are the main plots in his nightmares in which he pleads to stop having. His own reality was a mirror of every agony he has to face every day in his line of work. Why is God punishing him even in his dreams?

Those cries of pain and the smell of both burnt flesh and gunpowder are a toxic combination to Leon’s messed up mind. To him, they served as an everlasting proof of his devilish nature. He realizes that the image of innumerable lifeless bodies’ guts all over the floor with his brains smashed over the ground is a common occurrence for him. He becomes desensitized albeit his soul hurting for those who lay at his feet.

Now, he knows that what he's doing is in the name of survival. Millions of people live unaware of the dangerous situations he has to fight on a daily basis, they get to sleep on a warm bed next to their loved ones. If he wants to keep that on, he ought to kill.

But he wouldn’t do it otherwise, he wasn’t built for that life.

But despite that, the usual eerie feeling washes over him whenever he has to pull the trigger. He has grown accustomed to them, on the battlefield he was a fiery pawn, following orders as they told him to.

But as soon as his character ends his performance, his facade and mask falls off his face. He’s no longer a puppet from his higher-ups, he was just him. Leon.

II. RECOGNITION.

He places Matilda — his brush to paint every ground with blood — on his nightstand. To be fair, that’s a habit he can’t just let go. After every mission, his mind is all over the place for the next few days. Every sound activates a fear deep within him that keeps him awake at night and worried during the day.

He washes his hands, a thorough ritual he follows step by step. His hands touch the water, lukewarm to bring him some kind of comfort. He rinses away every blood spot he may have engraved on his bruised skin. The warm and clear liquid reaches his fingernails, which he meticulously scrubs, washing away any leftover of someone’s brain.

He takes pride in being clean. However, it had developed into an obsession at this point. Being dirty meant killing, and killing meant despair. So, he tries to avoid his gaze on the mirror each time he arrives home. Sadly, he usually doesn’t recognize the man that is staring back at him.

Eventually, he turns off the faucet and walks towards the couch. He’s tired, both mentally and physically. He doesn’t get any younger and living as an agent surely doesn’t help his case. But at last, his home. Safe.

He turns on the TV, he’s welcomed by the News Channel which he quickly changes. Nowadays, it appears that nothing good happens in this messed up world, and he doesn’t want to bring sorrow to his home too. He searches through the vast choices of channels until something catches his eye. Casablanca.

A feeble smile forms on his face, a simple thing like that brings Leon a small percentage of happiness, which it’s a lot given his constant state of dullness.

He sometimes quotes phrases from the movies he watches. He genuinely expects someone to notice, his tired blue eyes would roam over the numerous faces of agents, hoping someone catches the meaning behind his words. He’s tired, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to chat with someone.

Nobody seemed to notice, maybe they were busy.

Curiously, he had changed the channel just at the right moment when Rick Blaine said his line. Leon’s favorite.

“I never make plans that far ahead.” Both the character and Leon say simultaneously. It brings Leon a sense of joy. Pathetically enough, his hobbies remind him that he is, in fact, still human.

He sighs, looking around his apartment. It was dull, it showed his lack of decoration and personal touch. He believes there was no point in placing ornaments or things of that sort since he doesn’t even spend most of his time there. In recollection, he has no home. At least not physically.

He’s a man of the world, people look at him and see someone who is strong and independent rather than a simple man. But his heart’s heavy, with a burden and anguish that no painkiller could ease.

He’s tempted to grab a bottle from his cabinet. Drown in the burning liquid and pass out. He doesn’t like alcohol. But he has always been weak to addictions. So, even when he was a rookie cop and his girlfriend broke up with him, he ran to the nearest bar and took all the booze he could. Maybe he should’ve noticed the red flags, and maybe gone to therapy or something like that. But… oh, right, the next day the world literally ended for him.

But, he refrains from doing so. Deep down, he knew that letting his addiction win would be a deadly solution to his problems. Acknowledging is the first step to recovery, experts say. However, he knew that he couldn’t do it alone.

Before even letting more negative thoughts come into his mind. He gets up from the couch and walks toward the bathroom, again. He stays in front of the door for a few seconds, as if scared of going back there. Eventually, he does enter.

His hand reaches for the switch and the lights are turned on. The luminescent white light revealed his face in front of the mirror. He takes one, two, and three deep breaths before fully opening his eyes.

He bites his lips, seeking a sort of relief from that action yet he bites too hard that almost draws blood. He’s trying his best, this mundane act is no longer something that he does daily. So, grant him some recognition.

His eyes travel and land on the mirror and after a while, he fully sees himself. His eyes are wide open, not because he was surprised to discover the man that was in front of him. But to compare him to the one he used to be.

Just a few years ago, his blond hair was still bright, showing signs of his thorough routine. But now, it has turned into a black mop that could no longer be compared to his past self. His stubble has grown too, he was a late bloomer, he didn’t grow a beard until he reached the age of 27 when he could finally see some signs of pores growing hair. But to see his face so… rugged and rough was definitely a slap back to reality.

He takes two steps back, his hand reaching for the hem of his shirt. Swiftly, he takes it off, revealing his chest and abdomen. He was no stranger to his own physique since he obviously showers.

However, the sight that the mirror provided was very different from seeing his point of view. His eyes were observing someone else’s perspective, if he ever had the chance to date someone they would see… that.

A chest which was filled with scars and bruises. They were like tattoos, imprinted on his skin. Those will never fade and if he grants someone the misfortune of dating him, will they be repulsed by the idea of witnessing his tainted self?

He wasn’t a hero, he was far away from calling himself that. But he is starting to think that maybe, just maybe, those marks can remind him of his arduous path. Not in a condescending way, but in a fulfilling memory.

III. FURTHERANCE.

He feels… weird. It’s been a while since he last got a haircut, and having someone holding scissors next to his neck wasn’t something he was looking for. But, there he is.

It took everything in him to call the hairdresser. He has long forgotten how to even speak to someone in a normal setting. “Agent Kennedy here, haircut, out.” He couldn’t say that!

At last, he booked an appointment. It wasn’t the most expensive place, not because Leon didn’t have the money but rather, because he wasn’t looking to be surrounded by luxuries and opulence. A cheap but nice place would do.

Once he arrived, he noticed that he didn’t match well with the place. He knew he carried an aura of mystery and unapproachability but Jesus, it was now obvious with the way some old ladies kept looking at him as if asking: Who the hell is this man?

All of his previous actions led him to where he’s sitting now.

The granny behind him keeps showering in compliments which he couldn’t quite understand. A few years ago, he may have blushed and waved a hand dismissively, but now? He doesn’t see how he could be called a handsome man.

For him, looking good and taking care of himself had stopped being a requirement a few months ago. But it wasn’t something that happened out of the blue. He gradually started noticing the changes and once he realized, his whole appearance had changed.

His eyes are piercing and never changing, an unmistakable aura of exhaustion and helpness surrounds him. Yet, once the old lady's eyes land on him, he can’t help but smile back. It was always in his nature — he lives for others.

It’s always been like this. Naturally, his gullibility and his unfounded faith have shaped and molded him differently throughout the course of years. Having to survive an apocalypse, taking care of an infant, and getting betrayed by a certain someone would sequentially take a toll on him. Nonetheless, his primal wish for altruism and hope will always remain in him. They were his roots which led to creating a strong and fortified trunk.

He’s still hoping this tree will thrive.

The lady asks him how long has it been since he last cut his hair, and he doesn’t know how to respond. Normally, he would cut it himself, since time was priceless and he couldn’t nor wanted to go to a specific place to get his hair trimmed. So he learned by himself, which wasn’t the safest option.

By the way the old woman’s hands brush on his hair, shaking and trembling due to the years, he knows that she knows. It’s obvious by the way some strands are awkwardly cut and overall most of them were misshapen. A poor attempt at maintaining his heartthrob boy hairstyle.

He remains silent — for most of the time. — He doesn’t answer any questions that were directed at him. Not because he didn’t want to, it’s just that his line of job never prepared him for small talk. In fact, chit-chat just meant that someone was trying to gather information out of him, which prompted him to just refrain from speaking

The government has fucked him up.

He acknowledges it. But it’s not easy to make a change when that something is the only thing he has known for at least 15 years of his life. The curse of despair had so unlucky landed on him and he knew no witchcraft which could prevent him from that.

His mind register most things people would overlook. Given his duty at the job, he ought to be an observer. Yeah, he is also a fighter but he relies heavily on his analyzing skills before attacking. Knowing your enemy before striking is what has saved him every damn time.

His permanently furrowed eyebrows and cold eyes are the first thing he notices in the mirror as the woman keeps cutting some of his hair. A hand unconsciously reaches for the little space between his brows.

Maybe if he stops frowning.

Maybe if he stops scowling.

Could he give a better impression of himself?

It’s lacking authenticity, he feels like he’s acting rather than being genuine. But for now, he tries forcing a gentle smile which doesn’t meet his eyes yet it’s better than almost pouting every time he breathes.

All of a sudden, the bell of the door rings announcing that someone else has arrived. Some of the old ladies who are waiting for their turn start getting up from their chairs to greet the person who had just come in.

An everyday customer, that must be. Leon thought.

He was oblivious of how much you are going to change his life.

He can’t see you, not yet. But as the observer he is, he can deduce that this said individual is genuinely loved and appreciated. A drastic contrast between the way he’s received when he returns from a mission. Fake laughs, fake thankful words.

A complete fraud.

You walk as if you own the place, but your stride doesn’t come off as haughty or arrogant. You exude an aura of familiarity, hospitality, and therefore a gentleness that it’s foreign to Leon.

You walk towards his seat, where the granny is cutting his hair. As soon as the gray-haired woman sees you, he observes how her eyes light up with delight and joyfulness he hadn’t seen before.

“Adelaide…” You stop before you even reach Leon. He admires the scene developing through the mirror. He sees you for the first time, you’re definitely a nurse or at least you work in the healthcare area given your uniform. You have your hands on your hips and a playful glare was formed on your face. If he could guess, you just caught this lady doing something she wasn’t supposed to do.

“I think I told you you should be resting.” You squint your eyes as you keep looking at Adelaide, Leon takes note of her name. You are accusing her, yet your friendly demeanor doesn’t falter.

It’s refreshing to see innocent social interactions. It's a welcome-back reality check. At least, at this moment, he could embrace the tranquility. Although it will end as soon as the hairdresser informs him that his hair is done.

“You know I can’t stand still…” Her voice comes out as a booming melody. Even though the years were obvious by the wrinkles on her face, she sounded so animated and beaming. “This job is everything I have ever known.”

Now he can agree on something. However, he is fully aware the situation is deadly different. Between cutting hair and slitting someone else’s throat, there is a vast difference. But, in his mind, he could already make up a conversation based on that information.

“I know, but…” You take a step further and place a hand on the granny’s shoulder. Leon couldn’t help but feel like an outsider now that the three of them were reflected in the mirror. “You could just take a few days off… Your shoulder will thank you for it.”

As you advise the granny your eyes dart from her eyes in the mirror to Leon’s.

For the first time.

You acknowledge his presence with a nod and a simple smile. Time seems to stop as he scans your face. You look younger, you are definitely younger than him. Not young enough for him to feel weird about it, but there was a certain glint in your eyes that told him you haven’t experienced misery and desolation in your life. Unlike him who has yet to experience happiness.

He doesn’t want to indulge so much, but his thoughts are having a blast right now. Maybe it was his lack of social interactions and meaningful relationships but he wants to know more about you.

“It’s quite unusual to see a man here. I would have thought someone like you would go to a barber.” He comes back to reality as he notices you are talking to him. Your eyes remain fixed on his as your smile continues to be displayed on your face.

Someone like… him? Yeah, that statement isn’t new to him. Especially since his demeanor is still so rugged. But hey! He’s making a change even though you don’t know.

“Barbers don’t know how to cut my hair.” He realizes his voice came out rigid and plain. He didn’t intend to, but he is used to his military speech and tone. “They… just don’t get it right…” His last sentence is definitely more hushed but not any less monotone.

“Fair enough. At least Adelaide here knows exactly how to keep your hair safe from a buzz cut.” Leon lets out an amused breath as you joke about his hair. It feels like a gentle breeze, indulging in light-hearted teasing with a stranger. And not any stranger, but you.

He has felt attraction, he’s a man after all. His line of job wasn’t the most ideal to find a partner but he can’t deny how some agents were pretty to look at. However, he couldn’t form a romantic relationship there. Between death and violence, the battleground wasn’t the place to have a partner, form a family, and live happily ever after.

“Yeah…” He sheepishly responds, he doesn’t know what else to add. You had taken the reins of the conversation as soon as you teased him. Now, he hopes something comes into his mind to keep the conversation flowing.

“I haven’t seen any other gentleman wearing this hairstyle,” Adelaide says as she resumes her work. She moves the scissors gracefully. She is — with no doubt — an expert in this area. Though the simpleness of her salon tells him otherwise. “If I may say, I think it really suits you.”

“You should have seen me in the 90s.” Those words leave his lips before he even registers them in his mind. It was an innocuous joke, nonetheless, it carried a hint of self-deprecation. He doesn’t look like his old self, he knows that. Especially after seeing himself in the mirror that night. But nobody there has to know, for them, it was a simple light-hearted joke.

The whole salon erupts in laughter, he doesn’t think his words are that funny. But hey, he will take the compliment.

However, his eyes catch a glimpse of you not laughing. At work, most people wouldn’t laugh at his own words because they weren’t needed. He knew that. But then again, none of you were in a life-or-death situation. Leon doesn’t want to overthink, but… did he come out as a pretentious dude? Or an arrogant dickhead?

Or maybe you have caught the real meaning behind those words.

You let out a breathy laugh, not too long to be considered a giggle but not short enough to be a chuckle. You don’t add anything else, your eyes just linger on his face for a few more seconds before turning on your heel.

For a moment, he’s taken aback. He feels like he’s going crazy but for a split second, he sees himself in you. Not because you shared the same past or path and there was no way you had the same traumas. But the way you had observed him, made him feel analyzed, as if you were studying the way he talked and expressed himself.

Maybe he’s indeed going crazy.

Leon watches you taking a seat on an empty chair, next to another customer who gives you a polite smile. From there, he hears you telling Adelaide that your shift at the hospital has just ended and you just wanted to check up on her.

For a while, he relaxes until Adelaide tells him that they are done. She persuades him to bleach his hair after he accidentally told her that he had blond hair in the past. But he escapes her attempts by telling her that he wants to pay.

He walks towards the register and pulls out a 20-dollar bill. It was quite cheap, especially when he had cut so much hair. At least he looks more presentable now.

You appear out of nowhere as he was paying. Your frame leans over the counter and for a second, you let the awkward silence linger in the air.

Eventually, you speak.

“You don't belong here.” You say without an ounce of malice. You're expressing a fact. Leon has never been around the salon and doesn't look the part.

He frowns slightly, he was keeping up his laid-back appearance just fine until you blurted out your thoughts.

“It's my first time here.” He states before turning around and facing you.

“That I know.” You nod.

“Then… was your comment really necessary?” Leon's words could come off as rude even though it wasn't his intention. But, it seems they don't even phase you.

“Not really.” You shrugged. Your voice was nonchalant. “But as you could already guess, I'm a nurse. And I have seen people like you come and go out of the hospital.”

He is trying to understand what your point is. Under any other circumstances, he would have told the other person off for even daring to speak about him and his lifestyle. He wasn't violent, not at all. But sometimes his limit was put to the test.

“What I'm trying to say is that…” He sees your attempt at explaining yourself. “I think It's safe to assume you're an agent or something of that sort, right?”

Leon doesn't react nor wants to. People knowing he was an agent wasn't a problem since it wasn't a secret.

After a few seconds, he lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding and nods. Being honest could be the start of a friendship, at least that's what Leon thinks.

“Was it my frame and physique that gave it away?” If he was an artist he could easily say he was getting better at the art of improving. Just a few weeks ago, he would have never left a comment like that lingering in the air.

“Nope.” You cross your arms at the level of your chest.

And there you go breaking his fantasies. He thought his phrase was so flirty.

“There's a scar on your cheek, it looks pretty deep.” You gesture to Leon where the scar is on your own cheek. He instinctively brings his finger to where it is in his.

That's one of the few scars he remembers exactly how he got it. 2004, Spain. He experienced what betrayal was beforehand. Who he used to hold in high regard was the one who didn't hesitate to hold a knife and leave a nasty reminder of his deception.

“I got it in a fight.” He sticks with a simple phrase, not diving deeper. Nonetheless, he realized you’re a perspicacious individual, lying won’t get him anywhere.

“Fight… right.”

Both of you smile knowingly, the smirk giving away a sense of teasing between the two of you, for the first time. Even though you know nothing about how far and wild his job actually was, you had an idea that this said fight wasn’t just a normal and common one.

“So…” Leon sees how you shift your weight from one foot to another. There hasn’t been a shy bone in yourself ever since you entered the salon but now words don’t come out of your mouth as easily as before. “If you ever need a nurse, you can call me.”

As you rummage in your bag, you speak once again. “I may not be the most experienced but believe me when I said I had experience with some military and agents.”

You hand Leon a business card, your full name was there as well as your phone number and the hospital you work in. Your name falls swiftly out of Leon’s lips as he reads the content on the cardstock.

“And senior citizens.” He flashes you a dazzling smile, he doesn’t seem to realize that it’s been a while since he last smiled so freely and so.. natural. It feels like the sun hitting on his skin after a cold day. A warmth he had long forgotten he could feel.

He knew it was soon. Too soon to even imagine being your friend. But as he puts the card in his pocket, he wishes that this could be the beginning of something more.

IV. RELAPSE & RESTART.

He almost falls once he opens up at the door that leads him to his apartment. Another gruesome mission to add to his mental diary and more scars that will adorn his already hurting body.

The same never-ending story, the same story being told once again. He doesn’t know when it will end.

If it even ends.

The last months have been all about his ‘recovery’. He was a patient man, he was sure of that. However, he doesn’t understand how doing mundane things would help him. He was taking baby steps and walking on eggshells, trying not to fall back into his old addictions.

Which were slowly creeping into his mind.

A call from Hunnigan was the last thing he expected a few days ago. He was surprised not to get any task earlier but that didn’t mean he wanted to go back to fight off bioweapons and kill walking undead who were once rational people, with dreams and wishes just like him.

But as much as he wanted to hang up and leave that world behind — knowing that the government wouldn’t give two shits about him and would walk through the same door he previously did and blow his brain — he accepted the mission.

In his own story, he’s a tragic character who can’t break the cursed loop he’s trapped in. The soft sounds of the rain no longer brought comfort to his aching heart, since those constant pitty-patter reminded him of the blood dripping from the people who were killed, by no one else but him.

He often thought he was going crazy, especially now as he walked towards the kitchen and stumbled on his own feet. Seeking something to grab on while he fights off the exhaustion. This last mission had taken a toll on him, both mentally and physically.

His fingers reach for the edge of the counter as he finally stays on his feet without the fear of falling onto the floor. His tired eyes close for a moment as he takes in his surroundings, his lonely apartment and his lonely life and his lonely self and his —.

He shakes his head, he wasn’t exactly in solitude. After that hurried meeting with you, he gained a new friend. He got to know you personally, something that he had missed for the longest time. To actually know someone deeper and not only their last names and occupations.

In exchange, he gave himself the chance to be more vulnerable. He couldn’t deny the attraction that he felt. But he was too afraid to fuck up the chance to have something meaningful with you. He told you about his years at the police academy, and he briefly shared his experience in Raccoon City, trying to be as vague as possible. In other words, he bared his soul to you.

But that didn’t mean everything was filled with butterflies and rainbows.

One night when you were treating one of his injuries (which he never treated in the past) he accidentally told you about his addictions and dark thoughts. Those which showed a persistent state of numbness and trauma. It was never his intention to worry you about those minor things, which he truly believed were not important.

But, as he recalls that night, he realizes that sadly, he can’t just end it all with a bullet through his brain. He has always thought about it, it’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed his messed up mind on those lonely nights when he wished someone would grant him a blink of sleep without having to dream about death and despair.

His eyes open as he once again walks through the kitchen, the moonlight provides a faint source of light that casts on his dark space of living. He remembers that you once told him he should get some lights, and he indeed bought them but he can’t just seem to find enough time to put them on.

His mind wanders through the moments he has spent with you. You always said the most soothing of things, when you wanted to. You advised him, told him how worthy he can be and how special he must be to others even though they don’t know it yet.

Another step.

He didn’t quite catch the meaning of those words. For him, he only brings despair wherever he goes. A demon of destruction and annihilation. If hell had a list of its next guests he believes his name would be on the top of that list. God wouldn’t want him in his paradise.

One more step.

Nonetheless, you weren’t a teddy bear who only chanted words of praise and fairy-tale stories. You called out his bullshit, especially when he dared to joke about going back to his old habits.

Stop.

“Would you like a glass of whiskey?” He would sarcastically ask you whenever you visited him at his apartment, knowing the kind of reaction he would get out of you. You had none of that, though. As soon as he uttered those words, the grip your hand had on his arm would get tighter to the point that Leon would beg you to stop it.

He knew you genuinely cared for him and he convinces himself that you’re wasting your time with someone like him. Someone already broken from the start. You were younger, with a life ahead of yourself, and a career to follow. And like the devil incarnate that he is, he is stopping you from that.

The story repeats itself, everything he touches turns into dust. He’s no longer a human but the shell of a man who once had dreams of becoming a cop. To become someone who would help innocent people. But instead, he’s killing those same poor souls in the name of the fucking government.

His fingers graze over the cabinet.

He despises his life, he hates everyone who forced him to follow this path. The resentment flows in his system as his hand grips the cabinet door even tighter; if he wasn’t so tired from his mission, he would have broken the tacky wooden furniture.

Why does it have to be this way?

Why does he have to continue witnessing the horrors of his life every day?

Why do the ghosts of people haunt him every day as he tries to close his eyes and relax?

Why has he become so desensitized to the bloodshed and yet as soon as he comes back to reality, it knocks the air out of his lungs?

And why is he already unscrewing the lid of his whiskey?

Time slows down for a moment as he gambles his choices. It's been months since he last took a sip from his so beloved whiskey. But at the same time, just one tiny drop would crumble all of his progress.

But why is progress so important if the product is going to be the same? Even if he gets better, his life won't. The only difference is that he may smile more during missions and act like everything is fucking alright even if it isn't.

But he isn't so lucky to fall deeper into his hell that easily. As soon as the cap falls onto the floor, the front door knob twists, announcing that someone is entering.

And who else has a key to his apartment?

The last person he wants to see right now.

The door creaks, antagonizing the imminent moment when you would see him at the scene of the crime with him being the culprit of his own homicide.

“Leon?” He hears you say as you step in, the darkness of the room allowing him a couple of seconds to hide the murder weapon – the bottle – and act clueless. But it seems that not even his nervous system is on his side. He just stands still.

“Sorry for being late. I had one hell of a shift back at–...” He sees your frame as you approach the kitchen. Your face falls momentarily, taking in the sight you were watching. Disheveled hair, bruises all around his face, and dark eyebags that gave the impression he hadn't slept for weeks.

Your eyes fall on the bottle in his hand. There was no cap which leads you to believe that he was drinking. Leon wanted to scream and tell you that you got it all wrong, but no words left his lips.

“Are you drinking?” Anger-filled, you take long strides before reaching for the bottle. Your eyes scan the content, seeing that it is half empty. Your accusatory gaze falls on Leon's.

“It's not what it looks like.” Worst phrase ever. He knows that he's telling you the truth, yet he couldn’t come up with anything worse than that.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide open as you keep staring at him with those eyes filled with… disappointment which it's worse than being screamed at. He wasn’t built for that. He was used to resentment looks, to punches and kicks. But disappointment came every time he had to tell families that their father wouldn’t make it that night because he died on a mission. It came each time he had to inform a mother that their beloved son succumbed to a virus.

The once rookie cop still lives within him. The one who hates disappointing people, the one who wants to save everyone. But especially the one who can’t do it alone.

“Then help me understand.” You place the bottle on the kitchen counter. Your stare doesn’t falter yet a hint of concern washes over your face. “Because all I see is you drinking after literally promising me that you’d never do it again.”

As a matter of fact, you didn’t actually see him drinking. He wanted to say that, but he knew it would bring even more anger to your already burning expression. However, as soon as that thought left his mind, another one came.

The sole fact that he didn’t drink, doesn’t spare him from any culpability. If it wasn’t for your intrusion, he’d be lying on the couch, wasted and intoxicated waiting to pass out.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. Leon isn’t dumb, he’s exhausted but he’s aware of how much you’re holding back. You would never scream at him, that’s obvious. But you didn’t want to bring even more self-hatred to him.

He had his own mental battles, ones you will never understand no matter how much he describes them to you. His anxiety was always bothering him, like an annoying bug buzzing in his ear. You knew how overwhelming everything was.

And you knew how recovery wasn’t an easy step to take, but it definitely takes so much maturity and perseverance, something that Leon surrounds himself in – even though he doesn’t see it. He’s a fighter, he’s a hero, he’s a lover. He keeps fighting and fighting even when he doesn’t see an end. But he mastered the art of moving forward.

So, he’s allowed to fall from time to time.

“Did you drink?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Were you planning on doing it?”

He’s silent for a moment, he’s afraid that his answer will mean more disappointment from you. That you will get to see how pathetic he really was.

“Yes.” He eventually confesses.

You absentmindedly nod, letting out a long sigh.

“Another mission?”

“...yes.”

You didn’t ask for the details, knowing – to an extent – about Leon’s job, you knew it must have been so impactful in order to almost throw him back to his old friend, alcohol. And you knew Leon was like a sponge, he absorbs everything he experiences and never tells anyone. You thank God that he accidentally told you about his addiction, now you can at least protect him.

“It was…” Leon continues speaking, his fingers scratching a spot on the kitchen counter. His eyes don’t meet yours, as if he’s trying his best to make the words come out of himself. “It was really bad this time.”

He lets out a dry chuckle that sounds more like an attempt to water down the situation. One thing about him is that he doesn’t cry. He wouldn’t let someone see that side of him. He’s rigid, he’s stoic, he’s unemotional. He’s a DSO agent, born to serve his country and die for it.

But right now he wants to be a child again.

He wants to be that same infant who would fall on purpose just to get kisses from his mother. He wants to be that same innocent child who could come back running to his mom’s arms when the world was too scary.

He wants to stop the world for a second and cry at the top of his lungs, he wants to punch a wall until his knuckles bleed, he wants to be held, he wants to be told everything will be okay even if it will never be okay.

His thoughts drift to when he was younger – to when he could imagine himself being a better person. If he could speak with himself, what would he say? The image of a tiny him crosses his mind, a young Leon playing all by himself with tiny police cars.

Within him, there’s a rookie cop begging for help amidst the gruesome scenario he had to face back in 1998. Beneath all the layers of self-hatred and resentment, hidden in that dead gaze.

He shakes his head, in a poor effort of swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. An imminent sign that his emotions will fall like a waterfall, reminding him of his own weaknesses. His curtain of hair falls onto his eyes, blurring his vision.

Or was it his tears? He no longer knows.

He deserves an award for how hard he’s trying to stop the inevitable. His fingers shake, his breath gets heavier and his heart aches. But he couldn’t bear it for much longer, especially knowing that at least, he had someone to go to when his mind was too much for him.

So, he allows himself to feel human again.

“It was horrible…” He finally breaks down. He silently lets the tears fall from his eyes as he sobs. The thought of every mission is on his mind as the constant spams of his sobs control his body.

He feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs, the uncontrollable way that he chokes on his sobs makes his throat constricted.

He lowers his head, he doesn’t want you to see how weak he has become. A tough agent simply doesn’t cry. An agent bites, chews, swallows, and shuts up.

Silence sets in the kitchen, occasionally broken by Leon’s tears and choked breaths. His fingers itched to grab something, to hold onto something. To feel that he wasn’t alone, that he was indeed not all by himself in this messed up world.

You slowly reach for him. Baby steps, for someone who was touched starved, even if he was unaware of that fact. For someone that’d jump whenever he feels touched, because his mind can’t let go of the fear of being bitten, of being killed.

You quietly made your way to Leon’s hand, your fingers ever so grazing it. Feather touches brushes against the back of his hand, making sure to notice if he shows any signs of discomfort. There were none.

However, you surely notice that his sobs have stopped for the time being. He’s still sniffing though. As if on cue, his glassy eyes lock on yours, before you fully intertwine your fingers with his.

You didn’t hug him immediately, you didn’t throw your arms around his neck at the very right moment when he started crying, and you especially didn’t give him a shoulder pat as if saying “Don’t cry.” He appreciates the fact that you took it slow, you gave him a warning and proceeded further when he allowed you to.

Loving takes time, and loving Leon would surely take longer than anything you have experienced. You have treated many patients, you know that the injuries in a body heal fairly quickly. Now, the wounds in a soul that was doomed from the start are not something that easy to mend.

After a while of your fingers being intertwined and sweat covering the palm of your hands, you feel the faintest squeeze, coming from Leon’s side. You look at him and see a tiny smile formed on his lips with some dry tears adorning his face.

You say nothing, scared to break the atmosphere of tranquility that had formed after Leon stopped crying. It took some seconds for Leon to muster up the courage to go further, intimacy and platonic touches were already something he was unfamiliar with. Now, he had to add romantic feelings to that list.

If he had met you when he was younger, he’d have surely asked you out. Take you on a nice little date and steal a kiss or two. But now, he was trapped in the course of the years, older and supposedly wiser. However, you were the one who was being strong – for him. Not the other way around.

But, as much as he wants to pity himself and wonder about those what-ifs, he has a friend now. He would take care of that heart of his in the future. For now, he wants to embrace the one friendship he hasn’t tainted yet.

The one person who still hasn’t seen the horrors that this world has to offer.

He untangles his fingers from yours and looking at your eyes one last time, he brings your hand to his cheek. The palm of your hand bringing some warmth to his skin.

With his eyes closed now, you see an expression you haven’t seen before. A peaceful one, as if he was sleeping without his usual nightmares. It was comforting, in a sense, knowing that you have brought a moment of serenity to his tumultuous life.

You were surprised at first, not expecting Leon to show that display of affection. However, part of you understands that he was seeking comfort. It’s been a while since he last felt safe with someone, someone who he could cry with, someone who wouldn’t judge him.

Your thumb grazes over his stubbled cheek, wiping away any proof that he has been crying.

“Thank you…” His voice is barely a whisper, you almost didn’t hear him singing his gratitude.

You want to say “You’re welcome” or “It’s okay” but none of those phrases convey what you really wish to show. Saying the first one would dismiss all of your previous actions as a simple attempt to comfort him. And the latter was a lie, it’s not okay, even if you wanted to believe it yourself.

“I got you.” You stick with that one. It wasn’t a lie but a promise you plan on fulfilling. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” He asks, opening his eyes. His tone is a hopeful one.

“I do.” You reassure him.

With your free hand – the one that wasn’t on Leon’s cheek – you reach for the bottle of whiskey that was long forgotten after their little situation.

“But before that, we need to get rid of this.” You show it to Leon before he chuckles. “We’re now only drinking apple juice.”

He didn’t miss the use of we instead of you. Maybe he’s reading between the lines, but he hopes that you’re by his side now that he wants to leave his addiction for sure. He wants you to see how much he can achieve if he sets his mind on it.

“Apple juice it is.”

V. ABSOLUTION.

The nakedness of his body didn't override the vulnerability he showed once he let you in his life, mind, and soul. But as you help him wash his back, he can’t help but reminisce about that first night when he first saw himself in the mirror.

He remembers being insecure about showing his scars to someone, scared that the other person would be disgusted by the sight of it.

However, you weren’t repulsed, far from that. In your mind, Leon’s skin served as a canvas and each bruise and scar were strokes of a paintbrush. In this case, they showed Leon’s hard life and non-achievable freedom. They showed how much Leon had endured and how many fights he had won.

Therefore, they were proof that Leon was a lover of life. He loved everyone else’s lives that he would sacrifice his in order to protect the world.

Leon sometimes drops hints about his job. He didn’t directly tell you about the government and its fucked up methods, but you collected the clues and formed your own puzzle.

He was forced to join.

It was strange, in a way. To know that a gentle soul like him had to face the hostility of a country, of a government that could easily threaten someone into joining the force. However, you weren’t clueless about its power.

Eventually, after those hints, other hints came along the way.

Leon was sweet, funny, and a gentleman. Your dynamic as a nurse and patient was long forgotten even though you still tend to some of his wounds. And your friendship shifted into something more, especially after the whiskey situation months ago.

However, even though his qualities overshadow his flaws, there’s something he can’t hide.

He’s too awkward for his own good.

Ever since the alcohol incident, Leon would always try to be smooth and compliment you over the simplest things. “Have you done something different to your hair? No, you didn’t? Oh… Well, it looks good” He would often facepalm himself because he couldn’t flirt even if his life depended on it.

Eventually, after those not-so-discrete hints, he took matters into his own hands. He often faked minor injuries. “You don’t understand, my eye literally hurts” and he would have access to admire every tiny detail your face had to offer. From your moles to the way your eyebrows furrowed trying to concentrate.

And that led to feathery touches. In the name of friendship, of course.

After one dinner – that Leon so gratefully prepared – you would often find yourself sitting on the couch, shoulders pressed to one another as you played with his rough hands. You would ask him where he got that scar, how he got this one right here, wow it looks really deep.

And he let you because he did the same. Because those angel-like touches soon turned into endlessly staring sessions where silence was more inviting than any word could be. You gazed into each other’s eyes for only God knows how long. Expecting that the other one would break the intimate moment but none of them had the heart to do so.

It would be an understatement to say that Leon felt so safe with you. Over the months, Leon had gotten to know what a home felt like. His apartment remained the same, physically and aesthetically speaking. But the way it immediately lightens up when you arrive – yeah, Leon could finally call it home.

That’s why, it was so easy for Leon to let those words slip out of his mouth one night when you were leaving.

“You feel like home.”

And for a moment, you let those words sink into you. You thought you were merely an acquaintance, a simple friend at most. But no – there he was, Leon Kennedy, US government agent, telling you that you’re his home.

Meanwhile, the silence at that moment made Leon go insane. He thought he fucked it up, you would surely run away now. Who the fuck says that someone is their home? Shit shit shit—

“You’re my home too.”

And that was everything he needed to hear to stop all of his dark thoughts from appearing once again. The darkness that embraced both of them set the perfect scenario to indulge in this crucial moment. A late confession, but a real one.

As he gazes into your eyes, he can’t help but wonder if this tiny fragment of happiness would go away like everything else had in his life. You’re too precious, too important to die, to vanish from his life and never come back.

And your hand reached for his cheek, your thumb caressing the same scar you noticed when you first met him, he couldn’t help but ask God to grant him one more chance in life. He promises — in a fragment of seconds — to be a better human, to be a better citizen but please, don’t take away this last string of hope he’s holding to.

And he felt that God had finally responded to his prayers when he saw how you leaned closer, letting your lips find his in a gentle but so meaningful and awaited kiss. He hesitantly parted his lips, scared that this may be a dream. But of course, he doesn’t dream so that had to be the reality. The sorrow, the anxiety, the longing, and the expectations — all of those were long forgotten as he mentally thanked destiny for this.

“Earth to Leon” You giggle behind him as you rub a sponge all over his back. You were careful not to be so rough on his already aching back. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Of course, he found himself daydreaming.

From that night, his relationship with you skyrocketed. And his home became your home too.

He doesn’t know when it happened, but he found himself getting even more comfortable with you. He didn’t even need to ask himself — letting you see him naked as both of you wash each other’s bodies? Yeah, it was definitely love.

And he loves being in love.

“I just spaced out for a bit.” He responds with a yawn, the silence that surrounded both of you was inviting to just sleep throughout the night. Funnily enough, you only just sleep. Leon was grateful the first nights since he was getting used to the fact that someone else was sleeping on his bed.

But now he was growing a bit impatient.

Especially with your lingering touches.

As you let the water wash away all the soap, your lips soon find his back, pressing soft kisses on each scar that adorned his skin. “It’s okay…” a kiss on a tiny scar. “Are you going to take your sleeping pills tonight?” Another kiss on a scar that was near his shoulder.

Right… he was put on medication. He often takes sleeping pills when his eyes won’t shut down even if drowsiness is engulfing him. But lately, sleep has become easier, and his nightmares have decreased.

He’d like to think that after you started sleeping next to him, his mind started to feel at peace. But that was something unreal, nobody could fix someone.

But he had to be honest, you surely helped him a lot.

“Not tonight.”

He feels you nodding as your chin lays on his shoulder blade. It’s in moments like these where he thinks that life doesn’t sound so bad. As he zones out and lets you do all the job, he realizes that maybe it’s okay to keep on living.

He’s a big teddy bear, to say the least. The DSO agent who once swore duty to his country was pushed aside when he was with you. Why would he need to keep up his facade when home meant security, therefore you are what makes him safe. So, as you help him out of the shower, drying him off with a towel he lets you take the reins, his body on autopilot mode.

His strong arms wrap around your frame, perfectly molding and fitting like puzzle pieces. It feels like the flow of water, gently swaying your bodies until they reach their destination, their little nest away from everything outside.

He takes pride in serving, providing, and protecting. It was deeply imprinted in him, right in his bone marrow. The blood that runs through his veins pushes him to never stop, to continue working for others.

However, as you help him sit down on the bed his mind shuts down for a moment. He allows himself to take this moment of peace and drown himself in it. Be a little selfish, if he can. The tranquility of a domestic setting was still so foreign to him yet he doesn’t understand how he could’ve lived without feeling this for so long.

The towel around his midsection hugs him just right to prevent the material from falling. His hair is still a little wet, and so is yours. You use the extra towel to help him dry off.

He very much enjoys the lazy touches you share at nights like these. It was a nice reminder that the darkness of the imminent dusk will not bring more nightmares, but peaceful dreams. The ghost of his past was getting tired of haunting him, it seems.

You’re still pretty careful with him, as if you were handling fine ceramic which in a sense, he was. He was shattered porcelain, glued back together with utter care. You both were artists, who completed with great skill this piece of art called life.

And now, your lips are acting like a brush, as they touch Leon’s skin. Kisses are planted along his jaw and he lets out a sigh from the feeling of being treated with so much devotion. If he could serve as a blank canvas, he was ready to rewrite his story with you.

Or maybe not rewrite, his past made him a person as much as it hurts. His grief, his pain, and his previous solitude built up the man that he is now. So, he will add another page to his life story. He will paint another landscape where the sun rises and casts its lights on the world.

He looks at you and sees nothing but raw love and a hint of desire hidden behind those orbs. He notices, then, that just like him you are indeed eager to please him in the other sense of the word. It was embarrassing to realize that he shouldn’t have kept quiet about his needs when you had already proved to him that it was okay to speak, to think, to feel.

It’s been a while since he last let himself be this physically vulnerable. Sure he wasn’t an inexpert in the area but it has never been this intimate. Hearts never bonded and names weren’t remembered. Never has someone truly cared about his welfare before. To put it a name, he’d have called it a trade. He let off some steam and the other part got what they wanted. No strings attached and surely no feelings hurt.

However, it would be a lie if he told himself he didn’t crave to actually make love to someone. To feel someone’s body brushed against his in a sweet and gentle motion. To let himself and his soul be kissed with so much love that it would make him cringe.

You stop your waterfall of kisses for a while, letting the silence linger for a few seconds as you grab his hand. Slowly, you interlace your fingers with him, a well-known display of affection from you. Your signature, you may even say.

“Hey…” His eyes search yours, and he sees how you’re looking for approval, for his consent. He once heard eyes are the mirror of someone’s soul and the world suddenly feels so small as he remembers that he met those same eyes months ago, unaware of the effect you’d have on him.

“Hey.” You repeated, for the second time this night, his mind decided to wander again. “Is it okay if…” you trail off, not because of embarrassment or sudden shyness, not at all. But he can deduce that you wanted him to finish your sentence.

I’ve been dying to touch you. I’ve been craving you touching me, he wanted to say. However, his sense of decency stops him from uttering that rather needy phrase. In a way, he can infer that you already know about his lustful desires. It was a matter of time before both of you indulged in those carnally and normal needs.

Nonetheless, he is oblivious that you won’t let this night be like any other. No, you wouldn’t try anything too crazy — not yet — But after months of knowing him deeper and rawer, you know he’s tired. Exhausted from his life, exhausted from his job, and overall drained. He deserves to be treated right and you’ve been excelling in that task.

But, you’ll show him that he can be as greedy as he wants to be.

“You can trust me.” You say in a hushed tone as if you were whispering a secret to him. Your hand slowly descends until it reaches where the towel meets his waist.

“I do trust you.” He responds with a determined tone amidst the suggestive move of your hand. “I feel like I won the lottery with you.”

“Is that so?” You laugh, resuming your kisses around his stubbled cheek. Although this time, they carry some neediness in them.

“Positive.” He lets out a shaky breath as your finger ever so grazes over where the towel is tucked in. “Because you saw good in me when I had nothing to offer, you—”

“Stop.” Your voice remains soft even though your command doesn’t falter. ”None of those self-loathing words right now.”

He’s speechless for a moment before he slowly nods and lets your hand go lower. Leon feels his blood going south just from a few words.

But then again, loving you was really easy. So it was no surprise that he found himself already leaking at the anticipation of your imminent touch.

“Let me make you feel better.” You whisper, allowing your hand to undo the towel that was previously wrapped around him. In a swift movement, it falls on the floor exposing his already hard length.

You glance at Leon one last time and observe his reaction. There was no sight of changes of mind or hesitation, so you free his and your desire.

You connect your lips against his neck, and with gentle sucks, you prepare him for what’s about to come. Your wish —besides touching him— is bringing comfort in such an intimate act like this. He has trusted you with his soul and body before, that’s correct. But right now, you can feel the level of loyalty and therefore love he’s showing you.

Your hand reaches for his dick, you thumb the slit of his tip collecting the precum that has already formed there, using it as a lubricant.

Your fingers circle around his cock and, slowly, you start stroking him. You don’t want him to cum just yet, the feeling of being treated like this was something you want him to drown in. So, you keep up the steady pace.

You disconnect your lips from his neck and focus your eyes on your ministration on his cock. The lewd sounds combined with the faint whimpers coming out from his lips were almost like background music that you are starting to love.

He takes the opportunity of you pulling away from his neck to hide his face in the crook of yours. His breath tickles your skin as he continues letting out the most pretty sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck…” He hisses as his word gets lost between the shlick sounds of your hand jerking him off. His nose brushes against the side of your neck as his cries fill your ears. You can hear him whispering your name from time to time, as well as some other curses of his own.

However, his tiny cries of pleasure soon turned into real sobs.

No, he wasn’t sad but Christ, it was the first time actually took their time to focus on his pleasure and his well being. He always thought that love was never meant for him, that the simple act of falling in love would be impossible and unachievable. The thought of having his life attached to someone else used to send shivers down his spine.

Now, his world is no longer black and white, your mere existence brought color to his life.

Your hand stops for a minute, worried that you may have done something wrong. That leads Leon to pull away from your neck as some tears roll down his face.

“Sorry… I — just continue please…” The desperation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed as he went back to nuzzle against your neck. And even if he was dazed out at this very moment, you will remember to talk about this again at another time.

“It’s okay, let it all go.” You reassure him as you resume your previous motions. It doesn’t take long before your hand sends him over the edge and close to his own climax.

You pump him, your thumb grazing over the head of his dick from time to time. He absentmindedly thrust his hips up into your hand, seeking his near release. For him, you were granting him a visit to Heaven itself. Just the mere touch of your hand had him seeing angels and cherubims. How would it feel to be deep inside of you?

His lips are red from biting them, attempting to muffle his moans. His brain is a mess, with thoughts of you and only in there and his cock is throbbing as it chases his own high. Overall, Leon was putty in your hands.

And by the way, his hips are starting to miss their rhythm, you know that it was a matter of seconds before Leon came undone in your hand.

“You’ve been so good for me…” You coo, still jerking him off with a slightly faster pace now. “You deserve to cum, don’t you?” You were always good with words but Jesus, he didn’t expect you would literally talk him through it.

As you whisper those praise words, he can’t stop his hips from rutting and bucking into your hand. “Yeah…— fuck — I’ve been so good. Please, let me cum.”

The image of a tough agent begging for release will surely imprint in your mind for a while.

“Of course.” Your lips tug into a smile as you pick up the pace. It was a sight to behold, seeing Leon coming undone in your hands with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and a dazed out expression that brought butterflies to your tummy.

Eventually, your hands slow down as Leon writhes under your touch. He lets out a loud muffled whimper as white thick ropes of cum spill onto his stomach and of course, your hand.

He stays still for a while, letting his body rest for a second. He plants lazy kisses on your neck as a way of saying “Thank you” since words couldn’t really translate what he was feeling right.

“Shit—” After a while, Leon curses as his half-lidded eyes meet yours. His expression is one of exhaustion but his lazy smile tells you he was brimming with happiness. He reaches for his towel that was previously thrown off and cleans your hand.

“Are you ok?” You ask as Leon wipes your hand, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the considerate action.

“Yeah but…” He trails off as he cleans his abdomen too. You can already predict what was going on in that head of his. “What about you?”

“I’m okay Leon.” You sigh as you bring your now clean hand to his cheek. “Your pleasure is mine. Besides, you’re exhausted.”

But as much as your statement was true, you can’t deny the desire that was dripping between your thighs. Between the intimacy of your act and having Leon so vulnerable in your hands, your system knows what it wants.

“I am.” He doesn’t deny the fact that your ministrations sucked the life out of him. But he can keep going. For the first time in his life, he is grateful for his stamina as an agent. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Before you could even protest, Leon was already kissing your neck. The scent of your body wash filling his nostrils as his lips get hungrier and needier for the taste of your skin. And as you attempt to once again speak, he muffles your words with his mouth on yours.

You feel your reasoning go weak as well as your limbs. It took a few kisses for you to comply and let yourself be laid on the bed, strong but gentle hands holding you close even when you fell on the soft mattress.

He’s above you for a second as he admires the view. Your towel, unlike his, was still wrapped around your body. You wriggle your way to where the pillows of the bed are and you wait for him there.

He wastes no time to join you, carefully lying next to you rather than above you. You catch a glimpse of what he’s trying to do. One of his calloused hands reaches your waist and softly motions you to roll over your side.

You roll over and you’re met with your reflection on the mirror that was next to your bed. Funnily enough, it was perfectly placed so it showed both of your bodies. Somewhere deep in your mind, you wonder if Leon set up the mirror there for this right purpose.

But then again, Leon was spontaneous, behind all of his layers of grumpiness and sadness that once used to surround him, you knew his sappy, corny, and cheesy side that was hidden. And now, you get to notice his quirks every single day.

He grips your hips as he lays sideways too, slightly spooning you. “You no longer need this…” He murmurs as he takes off your towel, the sight of your bare body in the mirror has his mouth watering. Acting like a damn dog wasn’t on the list of things he’s proud of.

As he discards the fabric that covered your body, you feel his once again hard cock. But this time, it was painfully close to your core that you could already feel every vein brushing against your walls.

“May I?” He knows your answer, he’s just asking for the sake of it. To hear your voice dripping with lust and neediness. To hear you hum that yes in your sweet tone as always.

“Please…” Your whisper was enough to make his cock twitch. What is with you and your voice that melts Leon whenever he hears you? You’re both his salvation and weakness. He can’t function without you.

He has always wanted to leave a mark in this world. That he had indeed existed for something else than death and destruction. That he was more than Leon Kennedy, the US’ best weapon. He wanted to show the world that he, Leon — just Leon — was more than his messed-up destiny.

He loves, he desires, he laughs and he yearns for connection. And right now, his body’s aching to feel you around him.

He snuggles closer and wraps a tight arm around your waist, hugging your abdomen just right. Instinctively, you arch your back, letting your rear brush against Leon’s dick making hiss from the friction.

For a moment, he stops hugging you. You almost whined for the loss of closeness when you feel Leon guiding his dick which easily slides through your wet folds. The tip of it bumps against your clit sending electricity all over your body.

He’s savoring this moment. Sadly, he doesn’t think he’ll last much longer once he starts. But, at least, he knows that this won’t be the last time since he finally allowed himself to be selfish, to wish happiness for himself.

Happiness has a name and is both yours and Leon’s.

At last, he pushed into you, just the tip for now. Admiring your face in the mirror, he whispers sweet nothings against your ear. Rambles about how perfect you look and feel right, how lucky he is, and so on.

“Look at you…” Leon points at the mirror and you open your eyes which are glassy from all the pent-up desire you’ve been holding back. At any other moment given, you’d have been quite self-conscious about the exposure of your naked body. But Leon — as you once did with him — is eager to show you that you’re indeed a sight for sore eyes.

“Look how perfect you look being mine.” Even though his words could sound possessive to anyone else, you know his voice brings out affection and tenderness. There are a few things Leon could call them his. And most of them are mundane items that don’t exactly bring comfort to him.

But to call you his was something that he has always looked for. To show you off, buy you everything you’ve always desired, and tell the world that he had finally found his home. His one and only.

As he finishes his statement with a kiss on your cheek, he eases himself into you. He pushes all of his length as he hushes you once you hiss from the stretch.

“Shhh there you go…” He once again wraps his arm around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he inhales the scent he has grown to love. The same that has been lulling him to sleep ever since you decided to move in with him.

He stays still for a few seconds, the feeling of filling you up could make him cum right on the spot but he stops himself. He distracts from your pulsating walls by kissing your neck and sucking on the skin which will clearly turn a soft purple color the next morning.

The pain soon turned into comfort and therefore it resulted in pleasure. As he hears you saying a soft “You can move” he slowly pulls out before thrusting into you with the same pace and force. He feels your walls clamping down his cock as he continues his motions.

He slides in and out with lazy thrusts, his and your eyes are closed as heavy breaths and drowsy moans leave your lips. You were correct, he was exhausted from his previous high. But the way you drowsily made love was making this whole thing even more perfect.

“Taking me so well.” He murmurs against your skin, his breath tickling your neck as he grips your waist even tighter than before, as if he is scared that once he opens his eyes you won’t be there. “Sucking me in, like you know I belong here.”

His hand goes to your chest, where he plays with one of your nipples. His fingers pinching the sensitive spot as his hips continue lazily bucking into yours already feeling like his mind was all over the place.

You feel a heat forming on your belly as Leon continues whispering words you can’t quite register now. Too drunk in desire and too cock drunk to even care. “Fuck I love you so much…”

“I love you too.” You can’t really say anything else, everything would be sentences with no coherent meaning or sense. So you stick with your favorite phrase, you could sing every day that you love Leon, and he would do the same. Because the word love was once so far away from him.

It was poetic to see that Leon could feel his second climax of the night near as he heard you say that you love him. The back and forth of his hips slightly increase their speed but it remains true to the lazy nature of the act right now, though.

“I’m close.” Leon stutters as he says those words. “Can I come inside you? Please tell me I can.” There is some desperation in his voice, an aching and burning desire to paint your insides.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, you can.” You manage to say before Leon lets out countless thanks you. Your body starts writhing under his grasp as your fingers start digging into Leon’s arms, leaving an imprint of your nails on his skin.

“Cum on me. Go ahead, do it for me.” He coos, coaxing more sweet whimpers out of you. “Let me fill you up.”

You let out a muffled whimper as you came undone. He could feel your cunt gripping him as you reach your desired orgasm. Eventually, Leon’s hips which were previously rocking into your and slapping against his skin are now slowing down.

The wet noises sound so filthy yet Leon is having a blast right now. He could imagine himself getting to experience this every night with you by his side. Who could have thought that selfishness could be so rewarding?

With a low grunt, he cums inside of you as he promised. Letting his load fill your insides. He couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that formed on his lips. What a view.

He remains inside of you for a bit longer than needed. You can’t judge him, especially with the way he nuzzles into your neck letting out a yawn. Poor him was worn out. After his first climax, he had already felt that he touched the sky, and now he was in heaven.

After pulling out, he rested his cheek on your shoulder. Part of him wanted to feel you again yet he couldn’t even move an inch. However, it fulfilled him to know that you were going to be right next to him tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and for as long as you allow it.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

“We have to change those thank you into I love you.”

Leon was the sweetest guy. However, those thanks still came from a place of skepticism.

“Sorry…”

He sheepishly said before drifting off to sleep. And, as usual, no nightmare is waiting for him to haunt his dreams.

VI. SERENITY

Attempting to get out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning should be a crime. However, your drowsy state didn’t stop you from reaching the now empty space next to you. The bed still provided you with the scent of the person you loved the most yet he wasn’t there.

With a groan, you decide to get up from the bed. Your feet meet the cold tiles before you curse from the sudden pain you feel as you step on the remote. You have told Leon countless times that he shouldn’t sleep when he’s watching TV, yet the only response you get is “I’m just resting my eyes.” Therefore, that causes Leon to fall asleep with the remote on his chest which obviously falls throughout the night.

After a while of inhaling and exhaling deeply from the pain, you make your way out of the room. The scenario that greets you is the same as other days just that Leon was missing in the picture.

Your steps are slow as sleep is still running in your system, a yawn escapes you while you walk towards the kitchen counter. A note is waiting for you and you deduce it’s from Leon.

“I just went to run some errands, I’ll come back as soon as possible. Love you so so much.”

His name was written at the bottom of the page next to a happy face that he had drawn. Silly, you thought.

You see that Leon had already prepared you a sandwich before he left. It was cold to the touch, so that means Leon has been gone for a while. He may come any time now.

Life with him was… surely an adventure. He still goes on missions, leaving you to your own devices for days or even weeks. But they no longer haunt his mind like before. He still needs to be treated with utter care after one, though. Bruises and scars are not the only effects his journeys have on him.

When he returns from a mission, the once dull and boring apartment welcomes him yet this time, it is full of colors and memories you have made with him. However, it’s not enough for him to completely drop his facade of a tough agent ready to end someone’s life. As you treat his wound, every tiny sound has him jumping on his seat.

You can’t blame him, it takes a while before he can return to his usual self and be embraced by your warm body that will waste no time to hug him tight. Reminding that he was finally home.

Eventually, after settling down and returning to reality, his personality will shine again. If someone asked you to describe Leon in one word it would be impossible. The man that you chose to spend life with was everything all at once. He was definitely clingy, to begin with. Excuses were his everyday words as he tried to explain why it was completely alright for him to follow you everywhere you went.

At this point, it felt like you had adopted a puppy instead of having a boyfriend. “What’ chu doing?” He would often say as he peeked around the edge of the door frame and watched you from afar If he had a tail it’d be wagging so fast. The tough agent no longer existed in your presence, instead, a man who melted as soon as you hugged him took his place.

Loving, in his language, meant going overboard just for you. If he had to get on his knees and beg for a tiny kiss he’d do it. He’s grown needy to those sweet gestures only you could provide. But he didn’t need to win them. Loving, in your language, meant offering your heart on a platter for him.

God does he love you. You have the man whispering funny names in your ears as you wake up. You unlocked a part of him that he had long forgotten he had, he used to joke when he was nervous — freaking out because he thought he might die on a mission. But now, he invented a plethora of new pet names just to bother you and see you rolling your eyes laughing.

He’s gone through so much, he’s seen so much. Tranquility was the last thing he thought he would be surrounded with. Ever since he was forced to join the military, he made up his mind on the fact that his life would never be the same, Racoon City was his starting point and only his death would stop him from suffering.

Now, as you finally hear the door unlocking you admire how his figure appears. You squint your eyes as you try to pinpoint what’s different in him.

“Hey, you.” Leon walks towards you, closing the gap between you two as he hugs you.

“Hey, you too.” You return the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Missed me?”

“Not much.” You punch his side, not strong enough to make him jump but rather tell him that you were joking. “Now… On what adventures did you go without me?”

“I just paid a visit to Adelaide.”

Adelaide, you haven’t forgotten about the old lady that you treated. However, you didn’t expect Leon to remain loyal to his service. And now that he mentions it, you realize what he has done to himself.

His hair has turned lighter. Blonder.

“Did you bleach your hair?” You can’t help but laugh at the thought, he had poor Adelaide working so early on a Saturday morning. But then again, you remember that both of them are workaholics, even though their jobs couldn’t be any more different.

“No, you’re going blind.”

God, he was so dumb.

Eternity used to sound like a cruel fate before. Stuck in a loop that he couldn’t escape from. But now, he will always look for you even in the tiniest details. He’d look for you in the darkness as two flicks of light trying to reach each other. In the universe, as two particles of stardust waiting to create something even bigger — a world for themselves, and a world to live on.

Because, after all, you reached for him when he had nothing more to offer than his rotten self. You loved him when he couldn’t even love himself.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #resident evil

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fleurriee · 11 months

Text

— wanted desires ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader

synopsis ; too worried about being rough on you, neteyam won’t allow himself to give into his desires, despite you having never looked more ravishing. but, it’s simply been too long for you, and you can hold yourself back no longer.

word count ; 4.4k

themes ; smut, fluff, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; explicit content: pregnant sex, p in v sex, breast play, nipple play, ear kissing, but all kinda sensual??

author’s note ; (in this, ive kinda just assumed that na’vi sleep naked) so this has slightly less dad!neteyam in it & more horny neteyam which im sorry about. i really can’t decide if im happy with it but i want to go along with the plans i have for this series & this was a chapter i’d planned a while back. i had originally planned this to be more smutty but as i started writing this i just couldn't bc even tho it's dad!neteyam who’s just 🥵 he'd be too scared to hurt you, so, we've ended up with this?? i PROMISE the next one is absolutely fucking adorable & will have everything people want when it comes to dad!neteyam!! this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!

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Neteyam was everything you could've asked for... and more.

As you slowly but surely started to reach the end of your pregnancy, the last stages just looming over your shoulders, he was always there for you. You were becoming more irrational, and there was no doubt in your mind that you were annoying everyone you came into contact with. But, each and every one of them seemed to understand, and none better than Neteyam.

Your mate was constantly by your side - physically or mentally - tending to your every need and abiding by your every request. Hormones getting the better of you, you also started to take your problems and own annoyances out on him. It was completely unfair and it always made you feel incredibly guilty and horrible in the end, crying your eyes out in your mate's arms as all you could do was apologise profusely.

But, not once did he hold it against you. No - instead of taking every harsh word you uttered to him to heart, instead of truly believing that you meant them, he allowed the blows and the insults to be thrown his way, soaking them in until your temper died down and there was nothing but an exhausted, drained and broken girl in front of him. After that, he'd soothe your apologies, caging you in his arms protectively, stroking both the top of your head and your expanding stomach whilst he assured you he understood that you hadn't meant all those words, that it was okay.

He'd insist that he didn't mind taking such aggravation, not when you were doing all the hard work... not when you were carrying his entire world on your shoulders.

To no surprise of anyone, his family were as perfect as they could be, too, always either giving you a helping hand, or steering clear less they want to say the wrong thing. It was obvious from the very start of the stark differences between the two sides of Neteyam's - and, you guess, your own - family.

When it came to those that were always supportive and understanding, it was always the girls. Neytiri would constantly make sure that you were the most comfortable in any situation you found yourself in, wanting to ensure that the mother was safe and healthy before anything else; Kiri was, without fail, bringing you different concotions made by both herself and Mo'at that helped ease your pain and soothe your anxieties; and Tuk, consistently babbling about how excited she is to finally meet her niece or nephew, planning out how all she's going to do when they arrive is dote on them. Each of them had created their own roles to play in your pregnancy, and each one comfortably took your mind off the worries that were swirling around, believing that simply nothing could go wrong when you had such beautiful people around you all the time.

On the complete other side, there were the boys. Both Jake and Lo'ak were different stories compared to the rest of their families - whilst the two of them were as excited and eager to meet your baby, too, neither one of them wanted to really get too involved, something that didn't exactly bother you, rather just making you giggle at their reactions. They gave you as much space as possible, too scared to get too close in case they either annoyed you or did something wrong. Whilst Jake had done this many times before, gone through several of these similar experiences with his own mate, he didn't want to overstep any boundaries between yourself and his eldest son, considering he had no idea what it was like carrying a baby for so long. And, Lo'ak... Lo'ak was just scared of his older brother.

After all, you were now considered delicate, and they knew if something happened to you, they'd be on the feral side of Neteyam... something neither of them particularly wanted to experience any time soon.

But, there was one thing that you couldn't stand during all of this, and, surprisingly, it wasn't anyone else trying to help.

It was Neteyam, and the fact that he wouldn't touch you.

Way more often than you were used to, you found yourself feeling sexually frustrated, the only thing you needed being for yourself and Neteyam to be intimate in the same way that got you in this situation in the first place. You narrowed your sudden feelings down to the fact that it had been so long - whilst the two of you never really had sex all the time before becoming pregnant, after being denied of your wants for an excruciatingly long period of time now, you were slowly teetering over the edge.

And, it wasn't as though you weren't trying, either. Your attempts of kissing him sensually, gaining beautiful-sounding moans out of him before he forced himself away from you; touching him explicitly, feeling him shudder under your grasp, before he moved himself impossibly further away from you, eyes scrunched tight as he held himself back; laying yourself bare for him when he go home, before he sighed dejectedly and shook his head, doing his damn best to ignore you... all to waste.

Neteyam just couldn't stand the idea of hurting you or the baby.

Sure, you guess you could understand where he was coming from, too, considering neither of you had been in this situation before, having no idea if having sex could harm either one of you, and the both of you were too prideful to ask someone else about it. So, you were stuck in what felt like a never-ending loop, enjoying itself as it tortured you blissfully.

But, you had never been so frustrated in your entire life.

The day had, once again, been a long and tiring one for the two of you, trying to let sleep overtake your entire senses and succumb to the world beyond. You were lay down upon your mat, the two of you on your sides - something that always felt more comfortable against the pains in your stomach, so Neteyam was happy to oblige - as your mate's front curls into your figure, his tail automatically wrapping itself around your bump protectively, like it always did, like a ritual.

That's when you started to feel it.

Your mind was beginning to deny you of any sleep anyway, your arousal once again getting the better of you as it painted your wanted desires within the forefront of you mind's eye until there was nothing else you could think of. But, it seemed as though Neteyam was feeling something, too - a bulge poking against your lower back, throbbing gently every now and again like it was demanding your attention, like it was excited.

For a moment, you wondered if Neteyam had even noticed his own predicament, considering he was the one so desperate to not engage in this way, and now he's aching. It's ironic that the roles have suddenly reversed, and you wonder how next to play this out.

Taking in a shuddering breath when you feel his tail subconsciously stroke against your skin, you weigh up your options - you could either ignore it completely, knowing it'll be a fight to get him to give into you, allowing the sultry thoughts within your mind to be the only release you'd get... or, you could take control for yourself.

In no time at all, you decide upon the latter. It wasn't much of a decision to make, either, too wrapped up in the sensations you knew only he could give you, wanting nothing but him all over you.

You start of with the barest of movements, not wanting to completely pounce on him in surprise, knowing that if you did, he'd get angry. The best way to get him to give in was always going to be to get him weak. Fidgeting about in place, barely moving, you pretend as though you're subconsciously trying to get comfortable - after all, who was he to say that you weren't when carrying a Na'vi around constantly?

A small moan sounds behind you, under his breath like he hadn't meant for it to spill from his lips, but it already has you smirking slightly. Instantly, you know he wants this just as much as you do, and if your plan works how you intend it to, you'll both be falling asleep blissful and satisfied after too long of denying yourselves.

Your next step is start rubbing your ass against his bulge, but ensuring your movements stay slow, so as not to arouse him so suddenly. At the feel of him against you in such a sensual way, a breathy sigh leaves your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you forget how much you truly enjoyed the feel of his cock anywhere on you.

Just as you’re enjoying yourself, your ass continuing to rub painfully slow against his excitement, there's a rough hand placed firmly along the side of your hip. It's not too tight a grip, not wanting to hurt you or possibly bruise you, but it's enough to hold you down in place and stop your movements from carrying on any further. "Stop," Neteyam almost demands, voice gruff as though he's just woken up, which means he'd been dreaming about taking you like he always loved to.

His one word command does practically the complete opposite of its original purpose, however - instead of listening and giving into him, it only seems to fuel your fire, adding on to your already painful arousal. The way he said the word, sounding so authoritative and annoyed and just sexy has you wanting more, more, more. It definitely wasn't in his plans to have you reacting such a way, but you couldn't help yourself anymore, too far gone. This was the closest you'd been to one another in this way for too long.

Your response to him is a whimper, pathetic and pleading, as you force your hips to move once more despite him hand still placed firmly on you. When your ass brushes against his cock again, he hisses, the sensation no doubt sending him into overdrive, whilst his fingers hold a tighter grip, automatically indenting themselves into your skin.

"Please," you whine, breaths uneven and you were barely even touching each other. "Neteyam, please."

There's a brief moment of silence that lingers between the two of you as your words evaporate into the surrounding air, yourself guessing that it's now Neteyam's turn to weigh up the options set out before him. Unfortunately, he knows you like he knows the back of his own hand, meaning it's obvious straight away that you wont give in now that you're this close to getting what you want. Besides, despite having seen you plead for him to just touch you before you fell pregnant in a way that had him excited, he's never heard you like this - desperate, anguished, and downright aching.

It makes him feel more thrilled than he'd like to admit - especially to you, right in this moment.

With a sigh of defeat, Neteyam knows there's not much else he can do other than give you what you want - although, he could change how he does it. He removes his hand from your waist, tail staying still in its place like always, fidgeting about. You're unsure as to what exactly he's doing, not words or explanations exchanged, rather just letting him do what he wants. For a second, you wonder if your plan had backfired, and he was moving further away from you, or possibly even leaving. The thought has your heart aching in displeasure.

But, then all thoughts are wiped from your mind when you begin to feel a gentle prod against your soaked entrance, subconsciously lifting one of your legs slightly higher in the air at the sensation, before Neteyam is sheathing himself fully inside you. His hand closest to you wraps around your elevated leg to relieve you of the annoyance of lifting it up yourself. When all you can really feel is Neteyam, no longer empty but warm and full, a guttural moan escapes your lips before you can trap it, your hand coming up to slap over your mouth, eyes closed tightly as you take him whole.

You hadn't truly realised how long it had been since you last felt him this way until now. Curse him and his damn protective instincts.

In just seconds, you want nothing more than to chase more of that feeling, more of that euphoric sensation, rubbing yourself impossibly closer to him as the tip of his cock hits such a sweet spot, you're sure you're with the Great Mother in some type of beautiful heaven right now.

Before you can go any further, though, Neteyam's palm finds your hip again, stopping you in place and this time, you don't bother trying to hold yourself back. The whimpers and whines that leave your throat at such a denial are mewling and pitiful, writhing about to relieve yourself of his hold, but he's relentless. Somehow, his entire body is closer to you than it was last time, faces inches away from one another as he brings his lips to your ear. At first, all you can decipher are breathless pants as his chest heaves up and down from trying to hold himself back. "No," he grunts, puffing as he attempts to gain control once more, "we're not doing that. We're going to stay like this - that's the best I'll give you."

This time, it's a groan that falls from your lips, one that sounds almost painful but you're too annoyed to care, cursing out everything for Neteyam being such a gentleman. All you want is for him to fuck you - was that so much to ask? You're not even sure if the situation you've put yourselves in is any better than having nothing, either, because now you can feel all of him entirely, can feel how excited he is to finally be inside you as his cock throbs in pleasure at being snuggled between your walls. Now, it just feels like a taunt of what you could have.

He chuckles softly against your ear at your reaction, still having not moved - and he probably wouldn't now, not unless he wanted to really feel you. The teasing smile is wiped off his features after a second, however, and replaced by one of sympathy, words becoming softer than they were before. "I'm sorry, muntxate (wife), I really don't want to hurt you or our 'evenge (girl)."

There's just a brief split second where his loving words filter through you and knock your senses apart - of course, he wouldn't want to hurt his girls, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ever did. The idea of anyone harming either of you drove him insane, let alone the cause of your pain being him. But, your fleeting emotions cascade into ones of just pure desire, filtering in one ear and out the other until your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud, panting desperately for more.

You give yourself a moment to just breathe, to not hyperventilate at the exultant feeling of him fully inside you. Neteyam assures that his grip stays firm against your hip, not wishing to relent against his own commands so easily, but he does rub his thumb in a soothing circle, painting your skin with a reminder of how much he loves both you and your child.

You're quick to move your hips again, eyes staying closed as you imagine everything he could be doing to you right now, rubbing yourself against him entirely. Immediately, your mate tightens his fingers in his grasp, a clear warning sign for you to stop in your teasing, to just bask in the embrace of one another and say that's enough.

Yet, it isn't enough. It's nowhere near being enough for you. There's a feeling of being slightly impressed at the restraint he's showing to you, and irritated all the same, until another idea comes to your mind.

Smiling a little smugly to yourself, already knowing what you're about to do next is something he definitely cannot resist based on the previous times you've done it, you clench your fluttering walls around his length, taking him whole and tightly. Your own actions cause a breath of blissful relief to pass through your slightly parted lips, loving the way you can feel his cock throb even more.

Another hiss sounds against your ear, his grip tightening, but this time, so does his tail as it continues to stay wrapped firmly around your bulging figure, the end vibrating in a fever of both agitation and anticipation. Even his body desires it, but he wont allow his mind to. He's starting to pant a little more frequently, too, now, like he's weakening at the seams, and that's when you know you have him exactly where you want him.

You continue to clench around him, bringing your hips up and down his length at a tantalisingly slow pace to ensure he feels every inch of you, hitting every spot of your walls. There's a feeling of triumph coursing through you when he no longer attempts to stop you in your teasing movements, knowing he's finally allowed himself to give into you entirely. Instead, the hand that was once gripping your hip snakes its way around your front, fondling against your breasts as he squeezes them sensually. When he moves to the other one, wanting to give it the same attention, he pinches your nipple, loving how sensitive they are due to your pregnant state, eliciting a deep moan from the back of your throat, no longer caring if anyone else can hear you.

"You're a little minx, you know that?" he taunts, words a harsh whisper against your ear but you don't care - not when the once slow movements between the two of you suddenly increase in their pace as Neteyam takes over. The alternating grip, too, against your breasts tightens, constantly squeezing them as he soaks in how swollen they feel. "Always getting what you want."

The tip of his cock repeatedly probes against that sweet, spongy part within you so beautifully as his thrusts continue to increase in their speed. Your mate almost feels feral with his actions, perhaps finally realising that he shouldn't have denied the two of you the pleasure of one another, not when you were so needy. Not wanting to stop clenching around him as he moves in and out of you in a relentless pace, you can feel your release quickly approaching already, no doubt having felt forsaken for so long - you're sensitive enough as it is being pregnant.

"Neteyam-" you moan beautifully, breathily, like a songcord to your mate's ears, sure he's never head you sound so ethereal before. You have to cut yourself off as you moan in pleasure when you start to feel his balls slapping sensually against your skin, the warm sensation within wrapping around you like a blanket, one you never want to get rid of.

He brings his head closer than it already was, burying his face within the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. Sometimes he wishes he could drown in your scent, more so than ever now that you're pregnant - somehow, you managed to emit an even more delicious scent than before. Sucking against your particular sweet spot he knows you adore having his attention on, he ensures to leave behind at least a small mark, wishing for the entire clan to know that you were his, even though you're carrying his firstborn, wanting to be sure.

Lips moving feverishly against your warm skin as he continues to fuck you at a pace that was relentless, your pleasing moans scratching against the back of your throat, he eventually finds himself at your ears, placing soft kisses against them. The sensation has them fluttering in satisfaction, but then he trails down to suck harshly against your jaw, and your breath stutters, whining. "Mmm," he hums against your skin, now resorting to placing gentle kisses when he was once rough. "What is it, sevin (pretty)?"

In all this time, whilst his mouth was focused elsewhere, not once had his thrusts faltered, loving the way you’re so drunk on him entirely.

"I'm - I'm so close, 'teyam," you mewl, eyes slightly rolling to back of your head as he grunts at yet another clench from you around his cock, before you close them shut when they start to tear up.

"I know," he agrees, words just a breathy whisper, already being able to understand how close you truly are from the way you feel around him. It feels like his mind is on fire as your walls flutter from being so close to release, clenching and unclenching around him, having lost its rhythm. His pants are becoming more erratic now, bearing down upon you, but it makes you feel alive. "I'm close, too."

Quickly, knowing that the two of you wont be able to last much longer, he brings his queue forward, the tendrils reaching out as he then connects it with your own awaiting one. Movements now becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, but continuing to hit right at your cervix, your eyes widen as you start to feel everything he currently is - all the love, the desire, the frustration - bathing in one another like two pieces of a puzzle only made for you two.

Burying his head back in the crook of your neck, hand moving down to caress your swollen baby bump - one that's just moons away from its expected day - he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, wanting to tattoo them into you so you'll never forget them. Words like I love you, you're so beautiful, I can't wait to make more, having you crooning somehow more than ever, feeling him peppering kisses to you now.

It's not long after that when the two of you are finally releasing together, explicit moans and grunts escaping your lips as your arousal's become spent. "Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam-" you repeat his name like a prayer, having never sounded more amazing to your mate.

You can feel the mixture of your cum with his against Neteyam's cock, awaiting the feeling of becoming empty and cold when he removes himself from you and lets it trickle between your thighs. But, nothing of the sort happens. Rather, your mate stays put, keeping his cock in your warmth, snug, and therefore, keeping all his cum pushed further in you - something he's always loved to do.

Eyes closed in bliss, mouth parted as you try to catch your breath, Neteyam gives your stomach a few tender taps, garnering your attention. Before you can fully move your head on your own, Neteyam's hand moves to cup the side of your face, bringing your noses together as you breathe one another in. He presses a forgiving kiss against your lips, letting them linger against one another, not wanting to pull away. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, the worry and concern evident in both his tone, but also the way you notice his ears droop and eyes glaze over just at the thought.

Looking up at him, you give him the most loving smile you could muster, shaking your head adamantly. "No, ma'teyam," your words are gentle, soothing, "we're both okay, I promise." You make sure to kiss him again with the same softness he gave you, wanting to ensure he completely understood that you meant every word, that you were okay.

This time, when you pull away, he nuzzles your noses together in a domestic way he's started to do since a few moons ago - the same way he likes to do it with your stomach, like he's doing it with your daughter. Pressing his forehead against your own, his eyes never once leave yours, full of adoration and devotion. "I'm sorry I was neglecting you..."

Instantly, your heart sinks at his words, your hand moving up to caress his cheek soothingly like he does yours. You can hear the despair and brokenness behind his voice, and it only pains you further - Neteyam couldn't have been a better mate throughout this entire journey together, but he didn't understand that. He always thought he had to be perfect, that he had to do everything right straight away, but this was a journey you were experiencing for the first time together.

Neteyam couldn't neglect you if he tried. He's too doting, too domesticated, too tender to even think about doing such a thing.

"You do not need to apologise, my muntxatan (husband). I understand why you were worried - but you never neglected me, not once. You were just scared, and so am I..." you pause, your once sympathetic and caring expression turning teasing and menacing, "...but, now that we know that it doesn't do either of us any harm, maybe we could do it more often..."

He chuckles at your words, watching as you bite your lips in mock thought, attempting to hide the sultry smile playing at your lips. It's like your words instantly managed to clear his worry, feeling it dissipate at your loving reassurance, until his eyes were bright and his smile wide, looking down at you like you held the entire universe within you.

In a way, he supposed you did.

"I guess we could..." he relents, his own tone turning into one of teasing, too, smirking as he brings your faces closer into a sensual kiss. This one is all tongues and teeth clashing together, feverish in anticipation to experience more together now that the worries once clouding over the two of you had begun to part.

As his hands roam over your body, from your jaw, to your neck, to your breasts, and finally to your stomach, caressing every inch of your skin like you were a painting, he moves to hover over you, mindful not to put his weight on top of you. A giggle falls from your lips at his sudden change in demeanour, but that's soon swallowed by another deep kiss that has your breath dispersing almost immediately.

It was safe to say, with the amount of times the two of you came together as one just during that particular night, if you weren't pregnant beforehand, you definitely would've been after that.

taglist ;

@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood @camilo-uwu @queen190 @adrianarose7 @ttkttt @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog

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