#i cant stop thinking about the peepaws | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

karinasbaby · 9 months ago

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there are actual tears in my eyes

(pls beware that i’m actually losing my sanity and cursing profusely under the cut thank you and enjoy🫶🏼)

first of all. hana what the FUCKWNELWBEKSB this was so intense. i haven’t been this freaking indulged and into a fic in like SUCH A LONG TIME the way you wrote everything in SUCH PERFECT DETAIL IS ACTUALLY INSANE like my face is literally BURNING right now what the HELL. 🧍‍♀️

alright so let’s start with the parts that literaly had me gripping my bed sheets.

‘HIS KNEES BUCKLE’ this is literally aTTEMPTED MURDEEEERRRR 🗣️🔊🔊📣📣📣 the way you wrote jongseong’s misery SO PERFECTLY like the detail the emotions the feelings the thoughts the way my man couldn’t breathe oh my god i was in shock the whole time. swear to god had my hand on my mouth just 🫢 !!! like is this all happening what the hell i felt like i was going through it MYSELF personally. the way u wrote his emotions and pain and grief oooooo i began melting away 😩 AND HELLO “forbidding him from airing the air she had grieved in” OKAY SHAKESPEARE I SEE YOU. i genuinely want to kiss ur brain like hand it over real quick mamas 🫴 no because the whole kitchen scene actually made me tear up a few times im still not okay ☹️

the absolute PAIN. the HEARTBREAKKKK the way i actually began to feel chest pains is insane because oh my freaking god what the hell :( u had me gripping my hair and sliding down the wall in absolute wrath and misery like i felt like my own heart just got ripped out of my chest and just got shredded into tiny microscopic pieces like wdym “she has never seen pain shine in anyone’s eyes the way it shined in his, not even her own” STOPPPPPPPPPP😭😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔😭💔💔😭😭😭😭💔😭💔😭💔😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔STOP IT PLEASE I CANT HANDLE THIS STOP MAKING SHAKESPEARE ROLL IN HIS GRAVE ENOUGH JS ENOUGH HANA ☹️☹️☹️

no because the beginning of this section had me on the edge of my seat like were we gonna score the client? is it all gonna pay off? did we make it? did peepaw sight the paper? straight up had my eyes scrambling all over the screen to see the confirmation (which then led me to take a break bcs bro.) but gang when i read the “he almost asked someone to reach into his chest to lift it for him, unable to carry the weight of it himself” 😂😂😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣what if i was sewer slide L😂😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂 😂🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂😂😂what if this was my 13th reason😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂😂😂😂😂 i genuinely wasn’t built for this lmfaon😂😂😂😂😂i’m losing it 🙏🏼🤣🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🤣 no because hand ur heart over jongseong 🫴 HAND IT OVA 🫴🫴‼️‼️‼️‼️ i genuinely had tears in my eyes on that second i was fighting back to many screams and yells bro i was going THROUGH ITTTT LIKE :((((( MAN WHAT THE HELL

AND OOOOOOOOO UR MIND. UR MIND I WANNA KISS IT WHEN I REALISED U MADE THEE LEE HEESEUNG THE CEO LIKEBDLSNDKSJ i love and appreciate every single neuron cell that connected in your brain to be able to form this absolute masterpiece mamas holy shit like oh my god what the hell do u mean we got CEO hee 😂😂😂 (my newest freaking OBSESSION BTW. so thanks a lot rachel 😕 as if i wasn’t already thinking of this man 24/7 ☹️‼️)

anywho now the SMUT… the smut.

had me giggling and blushing the whole entire mf time now when i tell u my face is BURNING. my face is BURNING mamas. u straight up had my pupils transforming into hearts with the way u perfectly wrote soft and in love jongseong making love like oh my god. seriously i had to take so many breaks bro like what. what made u think i was bUILT FOR THIS ☹️💔 no bcs the detail the passion THE PASSION THE PASSION. it was felt through the screen. radiated off the screen and pierced my heart i was about to get on one knee and propose to jongseong as if we aren’t already married because i would actually gladly marry him a thousand times after the first proposal that man makes my knees weak, my lungs shrink and my mind REEL park jongseong the man that you are. THE MAN THAT YOU AREEE. i will now be taking a very much needed break before starting the second fic holy fuck i have so much to catch up with and this first one almost took me out ENTIRELY.

anyways sending so so much love to YOU 🫵 my dearest loveliest and sweetest hana :( i miss u a lot & i can’t wait to simp over hee & jay with u and send their edits to u (when ur exams are over so PLS STUDY.) and take care of urself baby, now make jay & hee proud and study well 🙏🏼

✧ Priorities (18+)

Pairing: non!idol jay x fem!reader (angst, smut)

Summary: Busy with a new client that could possibly bring in millions, Jongseong has been spending all of his time at the office. Y/n was okay with it until it had taken her husband completely away from her; seeing him only in passing for two weeks.

Warnings: 3rd pov, angst, hurt/comfort, swearing, crying, neglect, panic, mentions of divorce, SMUT, unprotected sex (don't.), oral (f), kissing, praise, hair pulling, happy ending, 12.4k

A heavy, spoiled scent fills the house as the clock ticks closer to midnight, time passing without any warning or consideration.

Unopened gifts and untouched food containers sit idly on the table, forgotten as they were abandoned hours ago. The candles have been put out and the small cake has been repackaged, quietly cooling in the fridge.

Balloons littered the living room, small pieces of confetti hid between the cracks. A once lively room was now cold, dim and lonely as the happiness in it left when the guests did.

At half past midnight, the front door clicks open and Jongseong walks into a quiet, somber home. Without turning on the lights, he quietly kicks off his shoes to the side and sets his briefcase on the ottoman bench against the door.

He sighs as the exhaustion of the day begins to weigh heavily on him, not having a moment's rest. He walks past the living room without a glance, ignoring the evidence of life the otherwise still house lacked.

As quietly as possible, he climbs the stairs to his shared bedroom. Part of him wishes she were up, greeting him at the door. He had missed her today but he knew she would be sleeping, snoring softly on his bed.

Pushing the door open, Jongseong smiles softly as his eyes land on her still body, her arms wrapped around his pillow. He stands at the doorway for a moment, just watching her. She looks soft, peaceful as she lies there.

What he doesn’t notice are the dried tear stains on her cheeks, eyes puffy and throat parched. As he changes and uses the bathroom, Y/n opens her eyes and stares at the bathroom door, eyes burning bright with anger and grief.

Quietly, she unwraps her arms around his pillow and places it beside hers, pushing it towards the other end of the bed. With a heavy heart, she turns to her other side, facing the wall. She shuts her eyes, praying that sleep comes to her kindly, needing it now more than ever.

Drying his hands, Jongseong walks back into the bedroom and slides into bed. She’s turned away from him but his mind is preoccupied with all the work he would have to complete in the morning. His mind races with game plans and strategies as he stares at the ceiling, wishing his mind would grant him one night of rest. He does not think about her because his mind is full of other, adamant thoughts.

Y/n stares at the wall, unblinking, as he thinks. She can feel them, all his racing thoughts suffocating the air in the room. She almost turns to face him, her desire to touch him stronger than the pain in her heart. He leans over and presses a kiss to her shoulder before he turns his back to her, falling asleep. She lets the warmth of his lips spread throughout her body, the ice from her joints slightly melting.

She makes no noise as tears stream down her face, wetting her soaked pillow. She has perfected the art of silent suffering, having been her only true companion in the last weeks.

She listens to him as his breath evens out and his quiet snores fill the silent room. Once his slumber deepens, she turns back to him, hands under her cheek as she stares at his back. Broad shoulders she hasn’t touched in days, hair she forgot the softness of, the slim of his waist she hasn’t held in a while.

This was the only time she had with him; in the quiet depths of the night, when he came home, she got to see him. She didn’t trace his back or breathe too close, just stared. She could have thrown her arm over his waist or moved closer, hoping his body heat warmed her, but she lay still.

Y/n was angry; no, she was livid. Anger coursed through her veins, and she dug her nails into her pillow. After a few seconds, her hands went limp. Running deeper than anger was misery, a feeling so distinct and yet so achingly familiar, she could almost taste it. It had consumed her, coated her skin, as it had become a reluctant friend.

The only emotion she could rely on these past three weeks; knowing that regardless of everything, it would greet her in bed and keep her company until she could no longer feel anything but.

After a while, her eyes soon began to flutter, tired and exhausted. She pursed her lips before turning back to the wall, refusing to indulge her initial urges. She gripped her pillow tighter as she squeezed her eyes close, knowing the morning would be quiet, as all mornings had been for a while.

She felt herself drift off, submitting to well needed rest. Her eyes welcomed the darkness, having been abused all day. Her breathing turned soft and she rested her left hand on her heart, her ring on her heart.

Jongseong groans as he blinks, stretching the sleepiness out of his body. The early morning sun shone on his face and he grimaced, turning towards the other side of the bed, hand reaching out. His hand met with empty space; nothing but the cold mattress beside him. He opens one eye and frowns at the sight of being woken alone.

Rubbing his eyes, he shuffles out of bed and into the bathroom, readying himself mentally for the day. He showers and shaves, spending extra time on his hair before his towel clad body wanders into the closet. He has an important meeting today and must look his best. Blinking away his tiredness, he chooses his best suit.

He quietly hums as he clothes himself, mind busy with different strategies he would have to play in order to make his unofficial client official. For a month, his team has been trying to convince a wealthy investor to invest in their company. Having more than forty years in the business, the client is not an easy one. But, if he agrees, he could bring in millions.

This was the most important moment in Jongseong’s career. If he did this, as the lead, he would be promoted to Chief Operating Officer (COO).

If he did this, everything would have been worth it. All the schooling and rough hours, the days spent in the office on coffee and tangerines. He’d finally have everything he needed. Happiness was so close that he could taste it, an acquaintance on the verge of becoming a friend.

Fixing his tie, he made his way downstairs. The house was quiet, but it had been for a while. Only the birds wanted to sing so early in the morning and waking up at the brink of sunrise tampered with his mood; wanting nothing but silence until he reached his bustling office.

As he stepped off the last step, his eyes glanced over the living room; widening as he paused midstep, taking in the scattered balloons and gifts. He hadn’t seen any of this last night, and as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t his birthday.

He heard quiet shuffling in the kitchen and walked towards it, eyes still on the littered table and room. His gaze fell on her back, standing on the counter. The corners of his lips lifted into a brief smile before he walked to the sink, grabbing a glass.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Her back went rigid as her hold on the knife loosened. Y/n didn’t turn to look at him or lift her head. She didn’t trust herself, not with the knife in her hand or the words pressing down on her tongue.

It wouldn’t matter, she decided. He would not notice. His eyes would meet hers briefly and even then, he wouldn’t see her. He wouldn’t kiss her, and he wouldn’t apologize. She knew all of this, having become accustomed to this new routine he had slowly forced her into.

“Morning,” she replied, making sure to keep her voice even. Any louder, and it would go hoarse, dry and cracking. She had stopped using it, conversing only when needed. The last time she tried using it, tried to make him understand, she was ignored. That was almost two weeks ago.

Jongseong leaned against the opposite counter as he sipped on his coffee, warm and ready for him. He scrolled through his emails and notifications before he glanced at the time. He would have to leave soon.

“Almost done?”

She pursed her lips and her nostrils flared. Instead of answering him, she put the lid on the container and put it in his lunch bag, zipping it up. She couldn’t feel his eyes on her, hating how she knew what that felt like.

She slides the bag across the counter, still refusing to look at him. She turns towards the fridge, using the large door as a shield. She slowly puts everything away, hoping he would leave as he normally did; quietly and quickly.

Instead, he pocketed his phone and picked up his lunch bag. “Whose birthday did you celebrate yesterday? A friend?”

She froze, her entire body stilling at his words. They floated around her head, burning her. She could feel the weight of them on her heart, a sudden wave of agony crashing down on her. Part of her knew. She knew that he had forgotten; that it had slipped his mind and he didn’t mean to forget. Y/n knew he wasn’t that cruel. But it didn’t make her feel better. Instead, all the anguish erupted and poured over her body.

As humanly as she could, she stood straighter and shut the fridge. She kept her back to him, knowing that if she did manage to get a glance at his brown eyes, she would crumble. She was barely holding on as it was.

“Mine.”

The word hung in the air, sucking out all the oxygen in the room. It cast a dark shadow over them, the sun hiding in its ignorance. She squeezes her eyes shut, gripping onto the marble counter for dear life. She would collapse, she knew it. Her legs shook and her heart beat too rapidly.

Jongseong stared at her back, his eyes widening by the second. At first, he hadn’t heard her. Then, when the word slipped into his mind, past the racing thoughts and outlines and emails, it rang in his ears. It jumped around in his mind, slamming against the walls of his skull as it grew heavier and heavier.

Blinking, he wet his suddenly dry lips. He didn’t move, not quite trusting himself. “No.” He said. “Your birthday is on the fifteenth.” Despite his strong voice, everything in him felt quiet.

“It’s the sixteenth today.”

This was the most she had said to him in days, finding it uncomfortably easy and incredibly difficult. Her voice was quiet, monotone. Not a single hint of emotion, not a twinge of personality.

No, he thought. I couldn’t have.

Jongseong shook his head, taking out his phone. He glanced at the date once, then twice. Then, he unlocked his phone and checked the calendar. His thumb hovered over her name, written on the date before. There were hearts beside her name, a note written beneath it; one that listed all the details he had prepared, the restaurant and gifts.

He could only stare at his phone in despair as he stopped breathing. It was strange, such a slow process that allowed no resistance. His palms began to sweat and his heart felt like it had been squeezed, as if it would burst out of his chest and stomped on.

“Go,” Y/n whispers. She could feel him unraveling behind her and as much as she wanted to dwell in it, she couldn’t find the energy to. She had dreamed about this day for the last couple of days, hoping he would come to his senses. But it didn’t feel as fulfilling as it did in her head.

“What?” Jongseong whispered, her voice piercing through his heart, tangling with his nerves. He didn’t realize how little of it he had heard recently. How could he have missed her birthday? The one day he was excited about every year; the one day he was extremely thankful for and planned months in advance for.

She swallowed, her grip on the counter loosening. Using all her strength, she slowly turned around and Jongseog held his breath, eyes wide. His eyes trailed her body, still rigid. His gaze landed on her face and he felt his heart stop beating. Her eyes were red, swollen and permanent tear stains painted on her cheeks.

She sighed before lifting her eyes, meeting his unnerving stare. She didn’t smile, and she didn’t frown. She simply stared at him, eyes almost hollow. Jongseong was almost sure that if he poked her, she would crumble right before her.

“You have a meeting. You’re late.” Her words pierced his skin, his insides bleeding. “Go.”

Without realizing it, he began to shake his head. He couldn’t breathe. His hands were shaking and the only thing on his mind was her as he tried to recall any recent memories he had; there were none.

“You mean…” He swallowed, shame pooling in his lungs as the dots in his mind connect. “I missed your birthday?” He stared at her, eyes begging. “I missed your birthday.”

Please, please don’t let it be true.

She nodded once, confirming his worst fears. “Yes.” Tears pricked her eyes and she bit the inside of her lip, hating that she still had tears to cry. She watched him, watched as her words sank in his bones, crawling between his joints and settling.

A tiny, miniscule part of her felt pleased; pleased that he was in pain, glad that his mind had cleared and discovered how horrible he had been. All she had wanted from him was time, some attention. And now, after her birthday had passed, she had gotten both.

“Y/n.” Jongseong swallowed, body shaking. His heart was breaking, it was shattering within him and he could only let it happen. Staring at her, he realized her heart had broken long ago.

He had done this, he reminded himself. He had done this.

She simply shook her head and pointed at the clock behind him. “If you leave now, you’ll make it to the meeting.”

“Will you stop talking about the meeting?” He raised his voice, needing to channel his emotions. His entire body shook as the reality of what he had done settled in. He hated the way she looked at him, indifferent and disappointed. Had he truly been so lost within himself? He couldn’t remember the last time he looked at her like this; all at once.

She simply stood there, back against the counter. Watching him fall apart gave her some strength, knowing she was finally being heard. It had taken two weeks, but she had done it. She had gotten through to him. He was listening.

“No,” she answered, voice stronger. “No. There is nothing else to talk about.” Her voice was sharper, angry.

Jongseong shook his head, trying to clear away her words and the haze in his head. “What are you–”

“For almost three weeks,” Y/n interrupted, “you have spoken of nothing but meetings and work. You’re never here, and when you are, you don’t speak of anything else.” She stood tall, eyes shining as she crossed her arms.

Jongseong stared at her, lips parted. His own eyes shined and his body wouldn’t stop shaking. A small part of him wanted to be angry too; he was working so hard, barely sleeping, slaving away at his job and there was no sympathy for him. But the better part of his heart, the part that she held, told him that it was no excuse; he had still missed her birthday.

Burning with anger, she steps forward. She has held back for days but no more. If Jongseong was going to stand there, then he would listen. She would stand her ground. Y/n couldn’t go on like this, she hated it.

“For weeks,” she began. “You have been coming home late. You don’t speak to me, you don’t touch me, you don’t acknowledge me. Everything has been about this client, everything has been about you; your job, your promotion, you, you, you.” She spat, rushing out her words.

“Do you know that I stay up for you every night?” Her eyes are burning now, and she lets the tears slip down her cheek. He watches it in torment, her words ripping his heart open. “And I get it,” she sighs. “I know. I know how hard you’re working and how important this is to you, but I’m important too. You come home exhausted and ignore me because I’m not a priority to you anymore.”

Jongseong is shaking his head, his words caught in his throat as his hands shake. He can’t breathe. He can’t see her properly, the tears in his eyes making everything blurry. This was his worst nightmare; something that used to keep him up at night, a constant fear in his head.

Her lips tremble and her persona breaks; weeks of neglect making her ache. She stares at him with the most heartbreaking look; red eyes brimmed with tears and wobbly lips, her shoulders shaking as all the pain she kept locked away resurfaced. He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t stand it.

His knees buckle and he grips the counter, holding on with his life. He still can’t breathe. Part of him thinks it’s his body’s way of punishing him, forbidding him from breathing the air she had grieved in.

Slowly, Jongseong swallows the lump in his throat and blinks. “Y/n,” he says. Her name is all he can say, all he wants to say. He only realizes now that her name tasted a bit foreign on his tongue.

“I’m so–” A familiar ringtone interrupts him, making him blink. He watches as her expression falls apart even further and she glances at his pocket, knowing she had lost. Reluctantly, he pulls out his phone and stares at his associate’s name. His thumb hovers over the bright red button but her words stop him from pressing it.

“Answer it,” she says. There is nothing but defeat in her tone, knowing she was competing in a losing game. Time had not stopped in the kitchen; even though it had for her. Y/n doesn’t wipe the tears off her face and it feels liberating, crying in front of him like this.

“Hello,” his voice cracks as he answers the phone. He barely listens to his associate’s rushed words, begging him to come to the office. All he can focus on is her. It’s a bit ironic, he thinks.

Jongseong ends the call without responding, having heard enough. He knows how important this meeting is, it’s all he’s been thinking about. That was the problem. He was the problem.

Jongseong parts his lips, needing to get his words out but she raises her hand and silences him, standing tall. She wants him to miss the meeting, to smash his work phone on the floor and look at her, pay attention to her, but she loves him too much to ask that of him. Looking at him now, she knew he would. He was finally looking at her the way she needed him too but she couldn’t have him sacrifice this.

“You need to go to this meeting, Jongseong.” He winces at the use of his full name. “There will be no point to any of this if you skip this meeting. What will it all be for, then?” She raises her eyebrow at him. “You tossed me aside for two weeks, what’s another day?.”

She walks towards him and picks up his lunch bag, shoving it into his chest. Surprised, he latches on to it, hoping his fingers would graze her skin but they don’t. She pulls away, afraid that if he touched her, she would forgive him in a heartbeat.

He stares at her, eyes wide and scared. She looks at him for a second, one quick second; and it’s enough to have her turning her head. She faces the sink as new, fresh tears pool in her eyes. She has never seen pain shine in anyone’s eyes the way it shined in his, not even her own.

“Y/n,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice cracks and she knows he’s crying. She can feel it, the weight of his guilt making the room heavier. He steps towards her and his hand reaches out to her. She holds her breath as it hovers over her shoulder, knowing he had never once hesitated to touch her before this.

Jongseong retreats his hand in shame, unable to touch her. The fear of being pushed away is too strong. He knew he didn’t deserve to touch her, not after he had deprived her of it for so long. He bites his bottom lip. “Will you look at me?”

She nearly audibly sobs at his words; the heartbreak so intense it almost knocks her off her feet. She had repeated the same sentence to herself hundreds of times over the past few days, hoping that just once he would hear it in her eyes.

Heavily, she turns to face him. Even after anything, she can’t refuse him. She looks up at him, her heart feeling heavier than it ever had.

He looks at her, eyes glistening as he almost drops to his knees in forgiveness. He nods to himself, knowing he didn’t deserve her kindness. “I’m sorry.” The words hang between them. “I’ll be home right after the meeting. We’re going to talk. I’m going to apologize.” He squeezes his hands together, trying to prevent the shaking.

She stares at him, taking him all in. His hair is a bit longer than it usually is and his eyebags are darker than they should be. His shoulders are still broad but he looks weaker. The nights of takeout had taken a toll on him, she concludes. His suit is perfectly pressed and his tie is–

Without thinking, Y/n reaches for his tie. He can only watch with wide eyes as she straightens it for him. She doesn’t pay attention to the way her fingers tingle or the way her hands shake. She simply stares at the tie, knowing he had done his best but they were never perfect. Memories and emotions crash within her and she knows.

She knows she’ll wait for him, for his apology. She will hear him out because she loves him, because despite everything, she knows him better than she knows herself. And she knows she shouldn’t, that she should leave him and curse at him but she can’t. Because beneath her fingers, she can feel his body shaking. Y/n can hear his lagged breath, see the sorrow and distress in his eyes.

The one promise they had made the night of their wedding was that they would communicate. That they would listen to each other and work against the problem, never with the problem. The issue was that Jongseong wasn’t listening and he was the problem. But he was listening now, and she valued him and their marriage too much to pull away now. Y/n would have to be the bigger person but someone had to be.

She had dreamed about this; about his tears and his apology and her initial triumph dies, slowly leaking out her veins. All she wants is her husband back. She wants to be seen again, held tightly until all she could think about was his skin against hers and his heartbeat in tune with hers.

She releases his tie and looks up at him. He watches her, knowing that he deserved her refusal. He knew that if she shook her head, told him to not bother, he would have deserved it. He would fight it, fight for her, but he would understand.

“Okay.”

It’s a single word. Whispered so quietly that he barely heard it, but it was enough. A tear falls down his cheek and he nods, lips pursed. “Okay,” he repeats. Okay, okay, okay.

They stare at each other before she glances at the clock. She lightly shoves his shoulder and he tumbles back, eyes wide. His entire body is sensitive to her touch, keeling to bask in it.

“Go,” she says. “You’ll be late.”

He’s shaking his head before he can think. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” Y/n emphasizes. “It matters to me.”

At her words, he can only nod. He looks back at her once before he slips on his shoes. He looks back again as he shuts the front door. His eyes are still glossy but she can only focus on the attention she held, having had to beg for it before.

“I love you.”

She doesn’t have enough time to respond because he hurriedly closes the door, afraid of her response. She stands in the kitchen, staring at the door with wide eyes, a warmth spreading through her for the first time in days.

“I love you too,” she mumbles into the air.

Jongseong is not paying attention to the meeting. His eyes are on his file, the thick, massive file that he had compiled over the weeks, but his mind isn’t comprehending anything. He’s barely contributed to the meeting and when asked questions, his answers are short and precise.

He ignores the looks of his associates, his team. He’s done enough–sacrificed enough– for this. The rest is up to them. All his effort over the past month should make up for his lack of effort now. All they have to do is make sure the client signs the agreement. He’s sure they can do it. They have to. Because he can’t. All he can think about is her.

Her words. Her feelings. Her pain. Her suffering.

All those days his mind hadn’t spared her a single thought were catching up to him now. He couldn’t filter her out, his heart aching in his chest. He almost asked someone to reach into his chest to lift it for him, unable to carry the weight of it himself.

“Alright,” the client clapped his hands together. He smiles at everyone at the table, eyes lingering on Jongseong. “You’ve all convinced me. I like the numbers and I like the company.” The older man turns to Jongseong, speaking to him. “I appreciate the work ethic of the company.”

Jongseong smiles at the client as the words sink into his scattered mind until everything freezes. Jongseong’s eyes widened and he gaped at the older man, not willing to believe what he had heard. He has been in and out of the conversation, only catching the clients last words.

“You want to sign with us?” His words felt foreign on his tongue, a child-like hope in his eyes. His frown turns upwards into a wide smile when the client nods, pulling out a pen. The associates stare in astonishment, wondering if all the hard work they put in was finally paying off.

Hastily, Jongseong grabs the agreement from his pile and slides it to the client. He watches with curious, greedy eyes. His eyes don’t stray from the smooth movement of the pen, watching as the ink dried and his unofficial client became official.

The client stands up and the rest of the room stands with him, under a trance. He puts his hand out towards Jongseong and smiles softly, years of wisdom and knowing resting in the crinkles by his eyes. Jongseong shakes his hand, genuinely smiling for the first time since entering the building.

“You did good, kid.” The older man says. He squeezes Jongseong’s shoulder once. “Take a break.”

Jongseong can only swallow the lump in his throat and nod, fearing that his emotions from earlier would make an appearance. Before he could feel the wetness of his eyes, he grins at the man and straightens. “Thank you for choosing us. You’ve made a good choice and we will not let you down. Welcome to the family.”

The older man smiles and nods, waving to the rest of the associates before he walks out of the meeting room, fully aware that he just changed all their lives. Silence falls upon them as they stare at the singular contract in the middle of the table.

Jongseong can feel his heart constrict in his chest as he sighs out a miniscule breath of relief. Part of him knew that he should have been more excited, that everything he had been working towards had worked out.

But he wasn’t over the moon. All he wanted was to go home to her, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. He couldn’t have done any of this himself; couldn’t have done it without her lunches or her warm body next to his.

He couldn’t have done this alone. He didn’t want to do anything alone. He needs her, wants her so badly it almost drowns his lungs as he sits silently, ignoring all the ruckus around him. He drops his head into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. The idea of coming home to an empty home, a house without her, makes him feel sick.

“Jongseong,” a familiar voice calls out to him. Jongseong raises his head and finds all the associates staring at him, some in amazement and others in confusion. “Why aren’t you jumping up and down in glee?” Jaeyun smirks before he focuses on the torment in his friend’s eyes, grin faltering.

Jongseong shakes his head, forcing a smile. He stands up and claps his hands together, making eye contact with everyone in the room. He bows his head and this time, his smile is genuine.

“Good job, everyone.” He focuses on the contract, unaware of the bashful looks his colleagues throw him. “You all worked so hard and spent so much time on this. Your efforts have been acknowledged.” He smiles at Jaeyun, hoping his friend would drop the concerned look. “You all did amazing and I am so glad and honoured to have worked with you all.”

At his words, someone begins clapping and the room erupts into cheers, a burden lifting off everyone’s chest as they clap each other on the shoulder and laugh. Jongseong smiles at the commotion before he steps away, grabbing the contract.

He almost slips out of the office but a gentle tug at his wrist stops him. He sighs before turning, making eye contact with Jaehyun. His friend gives him one look and it has his facade crumbling, all his emotions settling in his eyes.

“What is it, Jay? What’s going on?”

Jongseong shakes his head, unable to voice his thoughts. If he spoke about it, it would be real. It would re-confirm everything and he already couldn’t handle it. Jongseong wishes he had listened to Jaeyun all those times; when his friend begged him to go home and spend time with her.

“Nothing. I’m just tired,” he tries. He waves the contract in Jaeyun’s face. “I’m going to give this to Heeseung and then I’m going home.”

Jaeyun frowns and lets go of Jongseong’s wrist. Before he could say anything, Jongseong shakes his head again, his eyes pleading. “Drop it, okay? Tell the team I’ll take them all out very soon. Just, not tonight.”

Jaeyun purses his lips and nods, stepping back. He smiles softly at his friend and gives him a thumbs up. “Okay. I’ll tell them.” He nudges his head towards the door. “Get out of here.”

Jongseong smiles in gratitude before he pulls open the door, practically running out towards the CEO’s office. He smiles and nods as quickly as he can as he passes his fellow colleagues, but he stops for no one. Perhaps it was the look of determination mixed with heartache, but no one tried to strike up a conversation with him.

Breathing heavily, Jongseong knocks on the wide wooden doors before pulling them open. He steps into the huge room and slightly bows his head in greeting at the man who stood before him. Heeseung smiles widely at Jongseong, pleased and impressed.

“Jongseong,” he greets. He motions towards the seat in front of him. “Come, sit.”

Jongseong nods and wipes his free hand on his dress pants, suddenly nervous. He always was when he was in this room, afraid of messing up. He walks towards Heeseung and sits after the CEO makes himself comfortable.

Quietly, Jongseong slides the contract towards Heeseung. While he respected the man before him, he just wanted to go home. If he kept quiet, he’d be on his way.

Heeseung grabs the contract and stares at it, a soft permanent smile on his face as he reads it over. He had approved of it, but it was different now. It was signed. He sets the paper down and links his hands together as he stares at Jongseong.

“Good job,” he starts. “Truly. You’ve done some amazing work and I’m highly impressed.”

Jongseong smiles. “Thank you.”

Heeseung quirks his eyebrow before he leans back on his chair, fingers on his chin as he stares at Jongseong. The CEO knew Jongseong; knew how hard-working and dependable he was. He had seen it when they worked alongside each other and heard it when they didn’t.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” Heeseung says. He watches carefully as Jongseong sighs in relief. “I want to promote you. I’ve been watching you since you closed the Claeter deal and I know you’re the right man for the job.”

Jongseong can only stare at Heeseung. In the back of his mind, he knew. He knew that this was the inevitable next step; but hearing it outloud did not make it easier to accept. He had always been just an associate. And now, he would be more.

Heeseung smiles. “Jongseong, I want you to be my COO.” He leans forward, trying to gauge Jongseong’s reaction. The reaction always mattered. It would make or break it all.

Jongseong swallows, squeezing his eyes shut for a quick moment. Then, he simply nods and smiles. “Thank you.”

Heeseung grins, knowing he has chosen the right person. “We can talk about this tomorrow. I just wanted to make things clear between us. We can go through it all after your daily meetings.”

Jongseong purses his lips before he sits straighter, knowing he would have to set his priorities straight. He didn’t want a promotion unless he had her to share it with. It wouldn’t matter then.

“Actually,” he begins. Heseeung nods for him to continue, leaning back. “I was wondering if I could take tomorrow off. I understand that this is short notice, but I have something urgent and important to attend to.” Jongseong prides himself on keeping his voice steady.

Heeseung stares at him before raising an eyebrow. “I assume you’re also not accepting the position immediately, then?”

Jongseong shakes his head. “I would like to have a couple of days to think about it, if that’s alright. I am incredibly honoured and grateful, but I…”

Heeseung raises his hand, understanding. He, too, was once in Jongseong’s position. He had his own reservations and qualms. He could not fault him for it, in fact, he appreciated the honesty. He nods, already typing away at his laptop.

“I understand. I’ll have my secretary send you an outline of the position by tomorrow morning. Let me know by the end of the week and we can talk about it then.” He smiled and winked at Jongseong’s surprised look. “Go home early. Take a few days off. You deserve them.”

Jongseong ignores the tears that prick his eyes as he thanks the man before him. He smiles as he leaves the large office and smiles until he reaches his car. Then, his smile falls and the adrenaline and distractions that had consumed him vanishes. Standing in the parking lot, he clutches his chest.

Quietly, he unlocks his car and sits in the driver seat, gripping the steering wheel as his head falls against it. Now, he was alone with his thoughts. His horrible, sickening thoughts. He stares at his wedding ring as the turmoil in his stomach begins to turn into something vicious.

He throws his head back, groaning. He squeezes his eyes shut as images of her crying and heartbreaking face flashes through his mind. He had pushed them down before, but now they had pinned themselves to his subconscious.

He twirled the ring as bile bubbled in his stomach. What had he done? How could he have abandoned her the way he had? How did work of all things become everything to him? He had never been this foolish before; had the idea of a promotion really consumed him? Didn’t he already have everything with her? Didn’t she already bring him the most happiness?

Jongseong hadn’t realized that he had begun crying until he hiccups, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He doesn’t understand how he could have forgotten her birthday. It was the best day of his life, the happiest moment in time because it was the day she was born. The love of his life. He had planned so much for it, and yet.

His sobs begin to grow louder as he thinks about her celebrating her birthday without him. He recalls the balloons and presents on the table, how he asked her if it was for a friend. Even if she managed to forgive him, he never would.

Jongseong wipes his eyes as he starts the car. He drives silently to her favourite bakery, picking up her favourite cake. He knows it won’t make up for anything, but he knows how she craved it every year. Even if she would no longer have him, she should at least have some sweets.

He drives to his favourite florist and listens in silence as they tell him that he would have to pay extra for not picking up his previous order. Without any argument, he pays the fee and buys her favourite flowers. She always looks forward to these ones specifically, loving the way they brightened their home in comparison to other, regular flowers.

He grips the steering wheel tightly as he drives home, his heart spilling out of him. He is scared, so utterly terrified. He’s never been more petrified in his life; not when he left his home as a teenager, not even when his mother slipped on the driveway. He had some control during those instances. But here, now, he was completely in the wrong.

He would be lucky if she was still home, ring on her finger.

Jongseong pulls into the driveway and sighs in relief when he spots her car, knowing she was still home. Her home. His home. Their home.

Y/n steps out of the shower, clutching her robe tightly around her. Shaking the water out of her hair, she quietly hums as she dries her body, slipping on one of Jongseong’s old shirts and sweatpants.

She hangs the robe back in the bathroom, brushing her hair and moisturizing her face. This shower felt different, it felt refreshing. There was some hope bubbling in her chest, knowing that she’d finally have a conversation with her husband. She glanced at the clock and sighed, knowing there was still a few hours before he came home; if he came home.

Grabbing her phone, she makes her way downstairs to make herself a warm cup of tea, needing something to soothe her throat. She pauses mid step as she eyes the familiar shoes at the entrance, frowning when the briefcase she had seen only a few hours rested on the ottoman by the door.

Slowly, she steps off the last step and makes her way to the kitchen. Her entire body freezes when her eyes land on his rigid back, facing the living room where balloons and confetti still littered.

He hadn’t heard her walk down the stairs, his mind was preoccupied by the guilt in his chest. He wanted to destroy everything in front of him; knowing that she deserves something better than filthy old balloons. But he hadn’t even given her that; so he could not complain.

“Jongie?”

At her voice, her soft, confused voice, Jongseong slowly turned. The use of his nickname, a name only she called him, made his heart flutter in warmth. He looked up at her and almost sighed in relief; she looked so beautiful.

Y/n raises an eyebrow at him before her gaze falls on the flowers and cake in his hands. Her eyes soften and her frown lifts upwards, unable to stop it. She really did love these flowers, and she had truly missed the cake. At least, she decided, he knows.

Jongseong swallows the lump in his throat before releasing a quick breath. “Hi, pretty.”

She smiles and looks down, closing her eyes. It had been a while since he called her that, and it never failed to make her blush; even now, while she brimmed with anger. She was still angry, still hurt, but he was looking at her now and it almost made for the days he hadn’t.

“Hi,” she whispers. “Why are you back so early? What about the meeting?”

Jongseong wanted to shake his head, forbid any talk of work or the meeting. He just wanted to talk to her, about her, about them, but he knew he was in no position to make requests.

“Heeseung let me go early,” his lips wobbled. “He signed on.” His smile turned genuine for a moment, relief and excitement swirled in his eyes and her heart warmed. “He’s officially a client.”

Despite all the tension, all the emotions and the negativity, she couldn’t help but smile widely at him, pride swelling in her chest. She clapped her hands in excitement before grinning at him, nothing but delight in her eyes. “Jongie! That’s amazing!” She wrapped her arms around herself, stopping herself from hugging him. “I knew it was going to happen. And the promotion?” Y/n raised her eyebrow. “Did you get it?” Her smile widened when he nodded.

Jongseong smiled and his heart warmed at the pure glee in her eyes; his heart drowning in turmoil. She was angry at him, hurt by him, and yet she still prided him for his victories. He would never forgive himself; he would never ever let the guilt die.

“Thank you,” he said softly. He blinked once before he stepped towards her, forgetting all about work and the client. Right now, the only thing that mattered was her. The only thing he wanted to think about; wanted his mind to consume, was her.

He set the cake on the table and offered her the flowers, a remorseful frown on his lips as shame shined brightly in his eyes. “I’m sorry you’re getting these late.” She grabbed them, holding them tightly to her chest as she smelled them. “But I wanted you to have them. I know how much you like them.”

Y/n nodded, like she understood; and she did. All of her initial anger had lessened, a low simmer below the surface. She had thought about everything after he had left for work; what she wanted, what it all meant, and she decided that she wanted to get past it. She wanted to talk to him, to explain her feelings and how she felt, and then she wanted him to own up to it. She wanted her husband back, but she wanted him to be better.

“Thank you,” she replies, a soft smile on her lips. At the sight of it, Jongseong’s mouth goes dry.

Suddenly, he can’t breathe. Here she is, standing before him, beautiful and broken, and she’s thanking him. He feels sick, like everything inside him has turned green. He shakes his head, his eyes pleading. “Don’t– don’t. Don’t thank me. Not for this.”

He takes another step towards her and she basks in it. “You deserve this,” he begins, words trying to fall off his lips. “You deserve flowers everyday and your favourite cake and you deserve only the best.” He’s panting now, eyes wide. “I’m sorry I haven’t been that. I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish; so inexplicably horrible.”

She listens to him, clutching the flowers so hard that the stems bend. She feels the weight of it all in her heart, needing to sit. Quietly, she places the flowers on the table and grabs his hand. He only watches in surprise as she guides him to the living room, sitting on the sofa. He sits beside her, making sure to keep some space between them.

Jongseong sits there, palms sweaty as he eyes her. She’s sitting up straight, her own hands intertwined in her lap. Biting her bottom lip, she lets his heart slow down before she speaks.

Beautiful, he thinks. So beautiful.

She lets out a long breath before she looks up, her eyes watery. “Jongie,” she says. “I want to be honest with you. I want to explain to you how it felt; how useless and neglected I felt.”

Jongseong nods, his eyes watery as he drops his head in shame. “But,” she pauses. “I don’t want this to continue.”

At her words, Jongseong snaps his head up, eyes wide as his lips part. “You want a divorce?”

Y/n reels back, as if she’s been slapped. She stares at him, heart pounding. “What? Who said anything about a divorce?”

Jongseong blinks. “You… You just said you don’t want to continue this.” He motions between the both of them with his finger.

She shakes her head in panic, worried that her heart would beat out of her chest. “No! No. No,” she repeats. “That is not what I meant. I meant,” she licks her lips, “that I don’t want this to continue between us; the neglect and silence. I want to talk about it and I want to move past it.”

Jongseong visibly relaxes at her words, sighing as he drops his head into his hands. His entire body is shaking, and he wonders if it will ever get easier; if the guilt will ever subside.

“Okay.” He lifts his head. “I’m listening. I’m sorry I wasn’t listening before. I am now. From now on, I always will.”

“Jongie,” she leans forward. “Before we got married, you told me that I would always come before your work. You’ve always worked hard and I know how important your job is to you, but this client, this entire month, you turned into someone I didn’t recognize.”

Jongseong wants to drop his head. He wants to stare at the floor, but he refuses to be weak. He deserves to hear this, deserves to stare into her bright, shiny eyes as she tells him how she’s been feeling.

“In the last two weeks,” she continues, “you came home incredibly late and when you did, you didn’t spare me a single conversation. You barely ate any of the food I made and when I tried talking to you, you could only bring up work.” She wipes her eyes, tired of crying.

“I felt like shit,” Y/n whispers. “You were always tired and you stopped talking to me, always lost in your mind.” She squeezes her hands together, trying to find strength in herself. “I felt like for a while, nothing else was important to you. That I… I wasn’t important to you. That I wasn’t a priority.”

She blinked before she shuffled a bit closer to him, needing his warmth now that she could reach it. “I kept wondering if I was easy to discard,” she whispers. “Then, when you didn’t say anything to me on my birthday, didn’t surprise me or come home, I figured that I had truly lost to your client; to your job.”

She smiled at him softly, hating the wrinkles around his pursed lips and tense muscles. “I know work will always be important. You spent your entire life studying and working so hard to get where you are, and I am so proud of you; but you can’t just throw me aside when things get hectic at work. You can’t just ignore me and push me away when things get tense. You can’t pretend like I am some roommate you are barely tolerating because I am your wife. I will be treated as such.”

Jongseong was nodding along to her words, agreeing with every single one. He was such a fool, such an idiot. How could he have made someone as perfect and beautiful as her feel like this? He had promised her the day of the wedding that he would always treat her right; keep her happy, and he had failed.

“You’re right,” he started. “You’re my wife; the love of my life, and I should have treated you better. I honestly don’t even understand what came over me.” He reached for her hands and she joined him halfway, tangling their fingers together. “Work was and is really tough, but it’s no excuse to neglect you. I should have been better, kept my work life and private life separate.”

He squeezed her hands, staring into her eyes. “You are so important to me, Y/n. Everything I do is for you. I am so sorry that I let work take over everything. You are, and always will be my number one priority. I’m sorry that I made you doubt that.”

Y/n looks at him as her heart warms, feeling lighter than it had in days. She rubs her thumb over the skin of his wrist, lost in the feeling of touching his skin after so long.

“As the lead, there was a lot of pressure on me. There was also the promotion lingering in the back of my mind and I let it all consume my thoughts.” He swallowed. “I suppose I got so caught up with everything else that I let the one person I love most in this world down.”

He brings their joined hands to his chest, pulling her closer. “I am so sorry I forgot about your birthday. I promise you that I had so much planned but it completely slipped my mind. You deserve much better, but I am begging you to forgive me.”

He kisses her fingers, hoping it would not be the last time he would taste her skin. “You mean everything to me. You are everything to me. I promise I’ll be better. You are not easy to discard, my love.” He presses another soft kiss to her fingers. “You are so important to me and I love you so much. I was being an idiot; I am an idiot. I promise you,” he shuts his eyes, “I will never make you feel unloved and neglected again. I love you so much that sometimes it’s too much for me.”

She says nothing as she stares at him; at his eyes that are squeezed shut as he clutches their hands close to his heart. She sees her husband for the man he is; tender, loving, and so perfect. Y/n smiles before she leans forward and kisses his cheek, her lips lingering on his soft skin before she pulls away.

Jongseong’s eyes fly open and he stares at her. His lips part in surprise as his cheek tingles, a warmth he hadn’t felt all day spread through him, hope flickering in his chest like an old lightbulb.

“Okay. I understand,” she says. “I forgive you. I know this is not who you are, and that this client was truly important. I’ll have more birthdays.” She smiles at him, moving closer. “It won’t happen again.”

Still in awe, Jongseong nods. “Never again.” His heart is beating quickly and his eyes begin to water.

“Good,” she mumbles. “Then you’re forgiven.”

She grins at him as all the anger and pain dissipates; it lifts off her chest and wafts out of the room, leaving nothing but soft awkwardness in the air. Her heart feels fuller and lighter and she feels like she could cry, in happiness this time.

Jongseong is staring at her, hands trembling. Her words float around his head, and even when they settle, branding themselves in his skull, he still can’t believe them. Abruptly, he untangles their hands and drops his head into his hands, shoulders shaking as silent sobs pour out of him.

He didn’t deserve it, and yet she forgives him. His heart rattled in his chest and it felt lighter, the darkness seeping out of it.

Y/n freezes as she watches him cry, nothing but tenderness in her chest as she presses herself against him and wraps her around his shaking body. She rubs his back and holds him tight, knowing that her own tears are falling.

That’s how they stay for a bit; one of them crying uncontrollably and the other comforting, both interchanging as the sky darkens and all the emotions, all the negative and anxious emotions washed away.

Finally, their tears come to an end and she wipes Jongseong’s face as he wipes hers, a gentleness in their touch. She drops her hands as Jongseong cups her face, his thumbs brushing the skin under her eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, transfixed by her. Her grip on his loosened tie tightens and she smiles at him. “Can I kiss you?”

She nods, weeks of neglect resurfacing as she shuffles onto his lap, wanting to be as close to him as she can be. With her legs on either side of him, she looks down at his glazed eyes and thinks she might pass away at the sheer intensity of his gaze.

Slowly, he cups her face again and pulls her face closer to his. They breathe the same air as her lips hover his and she almost begs him before he softly connects their lips. Their plush lips press against each other and it’s enough for her to sink into him.

One of his hands drops to her waist and one of her hands travels into his hair as the kiss deepens, their lips moving passionately against each other, tongues pressed together. The sound of their kissing echoes through the living room, a sound that the walls had missed and begun to crave.

Y/n pulls at his hair, tiling his face upwards as she kisses him messily, her tongue tracing his bottom lip. She grins as his eyes flutter shut and the warmth in her body travels to her core, the one part of her body that craved him.

Unable to help himself, Jongseong kisses her neck, sucking and biting. He had missed the taste of her skin and he sucks, needing her taste all over him. She throws her head back in pleasure, slowly grinding down on his lap. This was almost too much for her, but she would never ask to stop.

When his clothed bulge brushes against her clothed pussy, they both hiss and press their foreheads against each other, relishing in the arousal around them. His thumb rubs soft circles on her cheeks as she scratches the nape of his neck.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he whispers. “We can wait. Both of our emotions are high right now and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable later. We can wait.”

She smiles at him, her heart warm and content. She presses a soft kiss to the corner of his lips and his lips lift into a smile.

“I don’t want to wait, Jongie.” Y/n brushes her nose against his. “I want you right now.”

Jongseong looks up at her and squeezes her waist. “You’re sure?”

She nods and presses herself down on him, biting her bottom lip at the friction. “You have a lot of making up to do. I suggest you get started.”

Jongseong smiles, the corners of his lips lifting into a wider smirk. He couldn’t believe how he went so long without this; without her. He loved everything about her, missed everything about her. And she didn’t know it, but he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

He kisses her before he brings his other hand under her thigh and lifts her as he stands up. Surprised, she wraps his legs and arms around him, laughing when he grins at her. Holding her securely under her thighs, he slowly makes his way upstairs.

She presses soft kisses to his neck as he walks up the stairs, biting every time he squeezed the skin of her thighs. “I want it slow,” she whispers against his ear. She grins when he stills right in front of their door before kicking it open. “And raw.”

Jongseong chuckles at her words but he doesn’t find them funny. A warmth spread through him, a primal need washing over him. It had been too long, and even the thought of her walls around him was too much.

But tonight was not about him. It was about her. And he would give her everything he had.

Gently, he sits her down on their large bed, looking down at her with heated eyes. She stares up at him, ignoring the way his cock pressed against his dress pants. She was more focused on his eyes; beautiful and brown and ablaze.

Jongseong cups her chin and simply stares down at her, love swelling in his chest. He rubs her chin and leans down, pressing his lips on her forehead. At the softness of the gesture, her eyes shut and she releases a quick breath.

“Tonight is about you,” he says. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.” He pulls off his tie and starts to unbutton his shirt, staring directly into her eyes.

Her throat dries at his words, not used to having so much control. It made her clench her thighs together as she realized that Jongseong truly meant it; tonight was about her, only her.

Y/n watches with hungry eyes as he slips off his collar shirt, leaving his abs exposed as he slowly unbuttons his pants, still staring at her. Feeling mesmerized, she tugs off her shirt and smiles as his warm gaze immediately falls on her bare chest, forgetting to put on a bra after the shower.

She watches him carefully as he slowly pulls down his pants and kicks them off. He stands there in his boxers, bulge pressing against the fabric as he stares at her. She’s only focused on the lower half of him, her mind racing.

“Want me to help you, darling?”

He steps closer and raises his eyebrow in question. She simply nods, unable to speak. Her heart skips a beat as he links his thumb over the waistband of her sweatpants and panties and pulls them down. Unconsciously, she raises her hips and hisses as the cold air hits her pussy.

Jongseong pulls her pants off and lays them on the floor next to his dress pants. He lifts his gaze to hers before it travels down her body, starting at her neck to her chest and then to her pussy. He can only stare, mouth watering at the sight.

She reaches out to him and he steps closer. Y/n hooks her thumb on the waistband of his boxers and looks up at him. He smiles at her and pats her cheek. “Whatever you want, love.”

She pulls down slowly, enjoying the way his eyes flutter shut as the elastic rubs against his shaft. She drops his boxers and his cock springs free, almost hitting her nose. She stares at it, eyes wide. It had been a while and she had forgotten the size of it.

Hypnotized, she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to its pink head. Jongseong hisses and throws his head back, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Fuck,” he whispers.

She wraps her hand around it and he squeezes her shoulder, eyes alight as he stares down at her, biting his bottom lip. She squeezes once before she moves her hand up and down, using his precum to wet his dick. It becomes harder in her hand and she squeezes her thighs together.

Jongseong wraps his hand around her wrist and shakes his head. “Not today, darling.” He hisses when she squeezes him. “Tonight is about you. Don’t you want my tongue in you?”

She did, she really, really did. But she wanted this too. She had missed his cock, missed the way it tasted and the way he fell apart on her tongue.

“You said whatever I wanted. What if I want this?”

Jongseong smiled at her. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good? My cum in your pussy?”

His words make her dizzy and she nods, immediately letting his dick go. He grinned at her and she knew that even though she had control, he would always have power over her. She loved it, knowing that he was trying to make it all about her.

She shuffles backwards onto the bed, stopping only when she reaches the middle. She drops her head on his pillow and looks at him, spreading her legs. He watches her with dark eyes, standing at the foot of the bed. At the sight of her glistening pussy, he crawls onto the bed.

He rests between her legs and looks down at her, love and affection swelling in his eyes. She almost feels shy at his stare, the sudden urge to cover up became strong. Before she could coverself with her arms, he leans down and captures her lips in a heated gaze.

His arms are on either side of her head as he kisses her fiercely, his tongue licking at her lips before he sucks on her bottom lip. When he pulls away, she’s breathless and her lips are swollen and her eyes are so glassy.

“I missed you,” Y/n whispers. He kisses her again, pressing his lips eagerly against hers, trying to convey all his feelings through the kiss. Hoping she knew that she didn’t have to miss him anymore. He was right here, where he belonged.

“You taste good,” she mumbles, slightly out of breath.

He kisses her cheek and nose before he begins kissing down her body. He kisses her collar bones before moving to her chest. He kisses both breasts before he captures one nipple in his mouth, hand palming the other. She moans and pushes her head back further into the pillow, eyes shut. He releases that nipple before sucking on the other one, tongue swirling around the bud as he sucked and nipped.

Her hands travel up his back and into his hair as she pulls, her entire body feels sensitive. Her grip on his hair tightens as he kisses down her body until he reaches her thighs. He moves back, lying down between her spread legs as he kisses her inner thigh.

True to his nature, he teases her a bit. He lets his lips travel close to her dripping cunt but doesn’t give her the satisfaction. He feels a little bad, but he can’t help. The sight of her cunt dripping is enough to keep him busy.

“Jongie,” she whines. “Please.” Her breathy voice captivates him, and his eyes soften.

Immediately, Jongseongs stops kissing her inner thigh and shifts his face closer to her cunt, his nose brushing against her folds. She breathes sharply as his tongue gently pokes at her clit before he presses his lips against her cunt, breathing her in. “Taste and smells so good, darling.”

Her body jerks forward as he licks her slick from her dripping hole up to her clit, moaning as he laps up all her juices. She slides her hands into his hair as he begins to devour her, slurping and sucking on her cunt.

“Fuck,” Y/n breathes out as he slides his tongue in, pulling at his hair. He buries his face into her cunt, his tongue reaching deep within her. His nose brushes against her swollen folds and he hums into her as she begins grinding down on his face.

He pushes his nose and tongue as far as they can go, refusing to breathe. The grip she has on his hair is deadly, but he loves it. The pain is enough for him to rut against the mattress, his cock red and rock hard.

She moans as he pushes his tongue deeper within her, tilting his head. Her hips jerk forward as he sucks loudly. She wraps her legs around his head and he hums in approval, the sound vibrating against the walls of her pussy.

“I’m going to cum, Jongie.” She pants, pulling at his hair even harder.

Jongseong feels her clench around his tongue and when her body begins to shake, he uses one hand to hold her hips down, tongue pushing deeper.

She clenches her eyes shut as the build up snaps and she sobs out his name, shaking as her vision blurred with tears. She squeezes her thighs closer together as Jongseong continues to lick up her cum, the bottom half of his face shiny with her slick.

She screamed as his tongue kept pushing into her, lapping up all her juices as she rode out her orgasm on his face.

“Please, please,” she begged, overstimulated as he sucked her dry. “Jongie. Too much.”

Jongseong continues to lick from her entrance to her clit, lost in her. She tastes so good on his tongue and he has missed it so much. As she shakes, he begins to slow down his licking, trying to calm her down.

Her body slowly stops trembling as he presses soft kisses to her bare cunt, spreading her cum all over her thighs as he kisses her bottom half. She stares at him with hooded eyes, another build up right at the edge.

“You did so good, darling,” he whispers into her thighs. “Cummed so well. You taste amazing.”

She gasps and hisses, trying to catch her breath. He lifts his head and smiles at the fucked out look on her face, glad that even though it had been a while, no one could do what he could do.

Her hand is still in his hair and she tightens her grip before pulling him towards her, smashing their lips together. His breath hitches as she licks at his lips, moaning at the taste of herself on him. They kiss harshly, the taste of her cum on both their lips as their chests press together.

Y/n runs her hands up and down his back, nails lightly grazing his skin and he shudders into her, kissing her neck. He shifts a bit before his dick grazes her swollen folds and they both groan, her nails digging into his back.

“Fuck me,” she says. “Please, Jongie.”

“Still want it slow?” He bit her neck, smiling at the slightly discolored patch of skin.

“No,” she pants. “Fuck me hard. Hard and rough,” she kisses his jaw. “Just need you in me.” He presses a soft kiss to her lips and smiles when she giggles, a softness tearing through all the tension.

Jongseong lifts his head and presses his forehead against hers as he lines himself with her entrance, his dick wet and covered in her juices. They stare at each other as he pushes the tip in, watching her carefully as her eyes screw shut and her breathing quickens. He keeps the tip in as he presses feather-like kisses to her eyelids and cheeks.

She opens her eyes and gasps at the intensity in his; the way his eyes shone with love and apologies, his entire being at her disposal. Y/n smiles at him and pushes his chest firmly against hers. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” His voice is low and breathy as his lips hovers hers.

“Like you’re seeing me for the first time.”

Instead of answering, he captures her lips in a passionate kiss, lips moving feverishly as he tries to convey all his feelings in words. As she kisses him, she moves her lower half, trying to feel more.

Jongseong pulls away and stares at the string of spit that connects them, licking his lips as breaks it. “You’re everything to me,” he says. “Everything.”

She smiles at him and although his dick was inside her and they were both naked, he blushed. He felt his ears warm as she grins at him, her eyes shiny. “You’re everything to me,” she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

They stare at each other as Jongseong rotates his hips once before he slowly pushes himself further into her soaking, tight cunt. He groans at the feeling of her gummy walls sucking him in, welcoming him home. Her breath hitches as she throws her head back.

“Fuck, darling,” he bites her bottom lip. “So fucking tight.”

Y/n digs her nails into his back as she squeezes her eyes shut, relishing in the thickness of his cock and how well it filled her up. She mumbled incoherent things as he bottomed out, his cock hitting places inside her she could never reach.

He rocks his hips against her spread legs, his dick slowly sliding in and out of her soaking cunt. He watches the way his cock disappears completely inside her, his balls hitting against her ass. Jongseong grunts when she squeezes around his cock, quiet mumblings about going faster, harder.

He smiles before he thrusts harder, his tip pressing against her cervix. Her eyes roll back as she digs her nails deeper into this back, leaving small red marks.

“So good,” she moans out. “Missed it so much.” Her eyes are watery and her jaw goes slack at the pleasure, his cock brushing against all her sweet spots. She whimpers when one of his hands brushes against her nipples, the feeling of his thumb rubbing against them had her seeing stars.

Jongseong lowers his head towards her neck and begins to trail soft bites along her shoulders as his hips move harshly against hers. “So good, pretty,” he praises. “Taking me so well.” The pleasure was getting to his head, overtaking his body as her moans mixed with his breathy ones, sweaty bodies rubbing against each other.

“G–gonna cum,” she stutters, eyes closing as his pace fastens and the bed creaks beneath her. “I’m so close, Jongie.” She sobs as he kisses her forehead. The feeling of pleasure made her dizzy as his building veins rubbed against her walls.

“Yeah?” His own euphoria bubbled and his vision blurred as he focused on the squelching sounds of his dick pounding into her dripping cunt. He brushed his lips against her forehead.

“Cum for me, darling. I got you.” He whispered, sweetly. “Let go. Let it all out.”

He continued to pound into her as she came undone under him, her release washing over her as her body went limp and her legs began to shake. Her vision went white as Jongseong mumbled sweet words, his hips slamming against hers.

Y/n squeezes her walls around him as she begins to cry, overstimulated as she still cums. At the feeling of her walls tightening, Jongseong releases a long breath as his hips stutter, his own cum pouring out of him.

“I love you,” he pants. “I love you. I love you. I love you so much.”

His warm cum fills her soaked pussy and he slowly rocks his hips back and forth, pumping his cum back into her. Her hands travel down his back until she pushes his lower back firmly into her, whimpering as his dick pushes the cum deep within her. She keeps her hands there despite crying at the sensitivity.

Jongseong presses open mouth kisses along her neck and jaw as he still cums, hissing when it all becomes too much for his dick. Her walls are still warm and sticky with their cum but he can’t stop fucking her. Her hands grip his ass as she forces him still, his cock deep within her.

“Too much,” she mumbles against his neck. “Too much.” When he tries to move, to pull out because of her words, she squeezes his ass tighter and shakes her head, still numb to her senses. “Don’t move,” she bites his neck.

Jongseong smiles dumbly as he cages her between his arms, letting his body completely cover hers as she keeps him inside her. “Did so amazing for me, love.” He kissed her cheek, his nose wiping a few tears. “Took my cum so well.”

Y/n simply nods against his neck, eyes still sewn shut as she savours the feeling of his dick inside her. Her pussy squeezes around his cock and she hisses at the feeling of being overstimulated.

Jongseong closes his eyes and breathes her in, his nose against her neck as he licks the skin under her ear, biting softly. He brings one hand up to face and brushes the hair behind her ear. She brings one hand up to her face and grabs his wrist. He watches her with wide eyes as she presses a soft kiss against his ring.

“I love you,” she whispers against his fingers. His heart skips a beat and he smiles.

His dick is still hard in her, pulsing as his cum drips out of her. He tries his best not to move, knowing that all she needed right now was the feeling of being full after having been empty for so long.

“Pretty,” he mumbles against her neck. “You okay? Want me to run you a bath?” He lifts his head and his heart warms at the fondness in her eyes as she looks at him, a soft smile on her plump lips.

“Not yet.” She squeezes his ass before she moves him, his dick slowly sliding in and out of her. He hisses at the feeling and looks down at her. “Need you again,” she smiles.

Jongseong smiles at her before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He brushes his nose against hers and slowly lifts his body off her, putting his strength back in his legs as he slams into her without warning.

Y/n whimpers, nails digging further into his back as he slowly rocks his hips. He grins at her and decides that if fucking her silly is what she wants, then it’s what she’ll get.

“Whatever you want, darling.”

1K notes · View notes

kitwasnothere · 7 months ago

Note

SCREAMINF CRYING

tumblr user chernabogs please stop hurting me you are churning out banger after banger !!!

there is so much to think about here good lord 😭😭😭😨😨 maleficia .....

this entire section hurt so bad,, like the sudden feeling that im sure the entire nation could have felt the moment meleanor's magic disappeared, even worse for maleficia. since dragon fae are hatched from intense love, it only makes sense that their motherly instinct would be ten times stronger than that of humans.

im deranged im going to start highlighting and annotating like im a literature student 😭😭😭

AGGHHHHHHH the use of parallelism !??!!??!?! its so good in conveying the grief and anger on a personal level, maleficia can't distance herseld from it because it is her daughter, not a nameless noble, not a faceless soldier, it is her daughter, and suddenly all the regret floods in when thinking back to every action she had with meleanor, if she had done more, said more, paid more attention AHHHH AHHH A

do NOT get me started on this core theme of tables and family... i KNOW you're referencing that one line malleus says everyone gets up from the table, leaving him behind. draconia family you make me crazy

I also like how maleficia considers lilia as part of the family, so his absence is felt, too, once he finally 'leaves' (or is exiled god i will smite down the senate i will wring them and throw salt)

😭😭😔 i believe deep in my heart in canon that this is true that maleficia wanted to reinstate lilia to bring him back, but she couldn't. i also like the themes of reapers and lilia being essentially the family's 'vanquisher of death', very cool title for bat peepaw

certified banger !! food rating : 10/10 ☆☆☆☆☆

tastes like : raspberry, cranberry cheesecake served with rare steak as a main and a glass of... wait i am a minor i cant say wine. a glass of unknown fruit juice 👍

ames you are COOKING (or should i say, planting???lol) SO HARD with the flower language prompts, 😭💖💞💖💞✨✨am really out here sobbing and crying over them like im watering these flowers with my Tears lol

so here i am requesting for these prompts: rosemary, begonia, pink camellia, dark crimson rose, purple hyacinth, blue salvia, zinnia

i picked these based on your initial tag about Maleficia and zinnia flower,,,, I SEE THE VISION so im requesting it now lol but also picked on prompts that reminded of Meleanor and Malleus,,, 😭i think therapy bills should be forwarded to Draconias instead, istg all they ever do is be in grief and loss /lh😭

if its too many, please feel free to choose whichever prompt you like and take your time in writing !! ☺️💞🌹✨✨

Ohhh I did my best here I promise LMAOOO. I tied in some easter eggs with other works i've done (namely Monody, Stasis, and Labours Gained). I hope you enjoy my absolute monstrous dump about Maleficia, whom I will die on a hill for tyvm

EMPTY CHAIRS

Inc: Maleficia, Meleanor, Levan, Lilia, Malleus (whole gang wow) WC: 4.2k :))) Warnings: Just some death, but I swear it ends on a happy note this time. Flowers: Begonia (How ghosts help the living live a little), Pink Camellia (Where I notice your absence the most), Dark Crimson Rose (The grave I visit everyday), Purple Hyacinth (The worst pain of my whole life and how it healed… multiple times) , Zinnia (The seats at the table and how they eventually became empty… multiple times) Summary: Moments where Maleficia was convinced her family was cursed, and a few times she truly wished this to not be the case.

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.

Their family may be cursed.

For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of such a matter in her mind. It had first passed briefly with the death of her father—the second monarch to take over after the initial uprising—and the subsequent death of her mother a few weeks later. No one was surprised when she went. Her grief for the loss of her love had been so profound that it had flooded Briar Nation, drowning both cattle and crops in her dismay. Maleficia had postponed her own coronation as the cleanup occurred. It felt ill-boding to be crowned while bodies were floating down the mountain pass.

The thought had returned once more when her husband vanished at sea, leaving her with a newborn hatchling on her own. Her love had been a strong headed man with adventure burning in his blood—it had been what drew her to him to begin with. That, and he was the only ex-sailor she knew who was bold enough to try and hold her for ransom. Wiping the deck with him had captured his heart—and the fact that he had been a dragon settled the Senate to a degree. But the sea is a fickle mistress, and although her love had skill and he had drive, even the most knowledgeable of sailors can never predict its next move.

She had not flooded Briar Nation like her mother had, and she had held herself together before her people, although the empty space in her bed and at the dinner table deepened the wound nightly. It was in the quiet moments alone when it was just her and Meleanor that she felt his absence the strongest.

In the beginning she loathed him for leaving her. Whenever she cradled their daughter as the hatchling shrieked and protested, blowing flame, and biting for flesh, she loathed him. Whenever she dealt with the Senate or another disaster befalling the Nation, she loathed him.

But when Meleanor learned to fly, learned to run, and shifted into her two-legged form for the first time, the hatred began to fade. Because although he had vanished into the mists on a voyage destined to fail, he had left her with the greatest treasure she could ever have—and for that alone she could hold no ill will.

Perhaps this sentimentality is why when Meleanor dragged a thin, sickly-looking bat into the halls of Black Scale, Maleficia heard her out.

“Please let him stay!” The princess had asked, green eyes wide as she grasped her mother’s skirts. “Please, mother!”

The other child had shrunk behind Meleanor, but shadows could not hide the burning defiance in the boy's eyes—a gaze of confrontation, and one that nothing truly innocent should hold. This is why she lacked the heart to say no. She quietly hoped that Lilia, as she would name him, would be the one to slay whatever reaper was following them—that the burning anger she had seen would ignite a fire that would cleanse the family of its suffocating misery.

With the presence of Meleanor, Lilia, and eventually Levan, the silent table Maleficia had sat at for so long soon became a place of raucous conversation again. Although she found herself scolding the three children more than once (especially Levan for his non-subtle attempts at discarding food), the lingering warmth she would feel as she gazed at the trio made her confident that this family curse was on the bend.

Naturally, it didn’t last.

The first time she heard of the Silver Owls, Meleanor was 200 years old and more focused on warding off suitors than an unmarked ship. Maleficia had allowed her daughter to indulge by instead consulting with an advisor alone in the dark of her office. The concern lingering in the advisor's words would grow to haunt her.

“Perhaps it is temporary?” She posited, trying her best to remain optimistic on the matter. Plenty of people came and went from Cape Sunrise. A single unmarked ship with a few scraggly sailor’s was not something she felt the need to stress over. The advisor seemed doubtful on the matter.

“But they have tools. Items designed to dig up our soil,” they had insisted, but Maleficia dismissed the concerns with a wave and a blase response.

“Let them try. They will not be able to break the first layer of our land.”

___________________________________

The first one to leave the table had been Levan. There were many soldiers and nobles who vanished before he did but, selfishly, he was the first one that Maleficia really felt the absence of. Levan had grown up from a non-confrontational child to her son-in-law, a general of the princess and a father to the future heir. His compassion had not faded despite the years of war that now tore the Nation apart. Maleficia knew this by the way she came across him one night, cradling his egg so gently while murmuring against its shell.

When he had noticed her, he had not corrected himself; if anything, he held the egg even closer. They had not exchanged too many words that night, but she sat next to him on the bench in the gardens, the silence speaking volume of her support to his decisions.

“You will return.” It was not a question—it was a demand. Her voice held the authority of a queen who had seen many, many losses in her long life. Levan had remained silent for a moment longer as his lips brushed against the shell of her grandson's egg.

“Always,” was the promise he made, and the last words Maleficia heard from him. When they didn’t receive notice for several days after he left, the conclusion was drawn that he was either dead, or the closest one could be to it. Meleanor held herself well in lieu of this information, as had Maleficia.

But the empty seat felt an ill omen.

___________________________________

The next one to leave the table had been Meleanor. When she was younger, she used to rest her head on Maleficia’s lap as her mother had fixed her hair. She would ramble on about her day and what she got up to with the two boys in the nonsensical fashion that many children do. Maleficia had listened with amusement, although her mind had always been half-focused on what she needed to do for her meetings the next day.

The regret of not giving Meleanor her full, undivided attention sunk in deep when she felt her daughter’s magic cut off. The bond in their family was intrinsically woven to allow them to get a sense of whether the other members were still alive. If asked, Maleficia might say it’s something of a dragon trait. Most of the time it served to be a blessing to allow her to know her family is alive and well.

When it cut off mid-emergency meeting, the abruptness had been so profound that she nearly collapsed then and there. Her breath had hitched, her words stuttering to a stop as she stared wide-eyed at the Senate members surrounding her. At first, she hoped it was simply a fluke—a disruption in the magic—until she didn’t feel it return and the horrible, tar-like panic of a mother when her child goes missing welled up in her heart. She was tearing out of the room before any of the Senate members even had a chance to speak, screaming for her guards and her soldiers to tell her what was going on at Wild Rose.

Her daughter, who spent her childhood running through the forests and laughing in the face of suitors. Her daughter, whose hair she would braid and then re-braid again when the girl somehow got burs in it. Her daughter, who was set to become a mother herself and experience all the precious moments Maleficia had.

Her daughter, whose body wasn’t even recovered at the end of it all.

___________________________________

The final one to leave the table was Lilia. In wake of the princesses passing, Malleus’ egg was put in the cradle tower, and Maleficia was designated to spirit him into hatching. She felt the faint connection of their magic from within the thick shell that guarded his body. His warmth, the subtle movements he made; they were all indicators that he was still alive and well despite his tumultuous arrival.

But Maleficia didn’t know if he would oblige. Hatchlings often needed the love of both parents to be shepherded forward—and Maleficia, now over eight hundred years old, already felt the strain of her magic from the conflicts going on in her Nation. There was no doubt that she held love for her grandson—but a lingering fear that her love wouldn’t be enough burned in her mind. This is what made her turn to Lilia, to send him on his quest around the world to try and find an additional means to bring the young prince forward.

For the first few decades, it worked well. Maleficia held the egg on a nightly basis and poured as much of her love and magic into it as she could. The egg consumed it all in a greedy fashion, demanding more every time she returned to the tower. One would think that Malleus was starving within by the way he pulled, and tore, and ripped at her powers to fuel his own development.

Then he ceased feeding. She recalls the first night it happened; everything had been going well, until the connection was suddenly severed, and the green glow within the egg dulled back into a faint tint of color. Maleficia had initially dismissed it as a one-off event. Until it happened again, and again, and again.

There’s a curious sense of panic that fills someone when they do everything they can to no avail. The panic she felt came in the form of a privatized breakdown in the tower. For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of a curse in her mind. Now, she was beginning to consider that it was not her family who was cursed, but rather just herself.

First it came for her father, and her mother shortly after. Then, when it grew hungry again, it ate through her husband and that of her daughters. Then it came for Meleanor herself, and now whatever reaper followed them was looming over her shoulder as she held Malleus’ egg and begged him to take something.

Pleas fell from the lips of a monarch as she rocked the egg, stroked its shell so softly, whispering to just eat a little more, just take a little more. But the egg had remained as cold and aloof as it had for several nights now. Her desperation mounted in an order to Baul to summon Lilia back—to slay whatever reaper was following them before it pried the last of her bloodline from her hands.

Her hopes of his role as the vanquisher of death came in an explosive hatching that she was informed of after it occurred. When she requested for Lilia to be brought to Black Scale to be reinstated in his role in his efforts, the Senate had then informed her that Lilia Vanrouge would never step foot in the capital again.

And so, in a span of mere moments, the final seat was emptied—and Maleficia found herself alone once more.

___________________________________

Grandchildren are the best reminders of the beauty and innocence of childhood.

When Malleus was first brought to her after he hatched, she didn’t want to touch him. The purple hue of his stomach and the way his green gaze darted around, drinking in the new world he emerged to, reminded her so much of Meleanor that she wanted to laugh at the cruel irony. The hurt that smouldered in her heart ignited back into a flame that found her turning a cold shoulder to the hatchling.

“Go clean him. He has amniotic fluid all over.” She remembers ordering, voice deceptively calm for the turmoil happening within. The wet nurse that was hired obliged as the hatchling shrieked and protested the frequently changing environment around him. His cries made Maleficia clench her jaw tighter as she stared resolutely at the battle plans drawn before her, her hands gripping the table enough to turn her knuckles white.

A few times she went to him in the beginning. The encounters lasted only as long as Maleficia could tolerate seeing how similar he looked to Meleanor before she would depart and leave him in the care of his wet nurse once more. Guilt fought with anger in her heart about the circumstances that she found herself in and her inability to overcome them. She could feel the ghost of her daughter chastising her in the corner for being so cowardly in her approach.

The breakthrough arrived when Malleus became ill. Grieves—a fever-like condition that affected fae children in particular—resulted in Maleficia sitting with her grandson one night as the exhausted wet nurse was excused for a long overdue break. She held him on her lap in the dark as his small form fought his fever, whispering how the stars that looked down from above were the eyes of the people who loved him, keeping him safe in this world. Her voice had cracked as she spoke, and it was only when a small whine left him did she realize she was hugging him tight to her body.

“I am so sorry,” she had choked out, unsure if the apology was for the hold she had or the neglect she had given so far. “Please forgive me.”

Malleus had twisted in her arms, small wings fluttering before he settled himself down and began to doze. He had already forgotten what upset him to begin with. She wished it would always be that way—but she knew that was nothing but a vague hope.

She loathed Meleanor for leaving. Whenever she cradled Malleus as the hatchling threw his tantrums, blowing flame, and biting for flesh as all children seem to do, she loathed her. Whenever she dealt with another part of the war or signed another treaty alone, she loathed her.

But when Malleus scrambled onto her lap mid-Senate meeting, chased after courtiers, and flew for the first time (admittedly, into a flock of pigeons), Maleficia loved her. Because although like her father she had vanished in an ill-fated decision, she had left a small reminder that she was never truly gone. Maleficia could comfort Malleus, could see the ghost of his mother in his clever little eyes, and for that alone she could hold no ill will.

Meleanor’s death had proved to be far worse than anything else—but her gift of the small dragon in her lap felt like the first steps towards recovery again. So, she had kissed between his horns that night and promised to herself that she would do all that she could to give him a future free of the misery that plagued their family thus far.

___________________________________

In the aftermath, she spent time with him whenever she could. Via dinners, via having him sit in on meetings, via walks in the gardens—whenever she could, she would be there. However, despite her newfound presence changing some things for the better, she remained unable to quell the curiosity that burned in her grandson's mind.

She found him in the mausoleum once. He was standing on the toes of his mother with his small hand touching her stone-carved face. Maleficia had not been to the mausoleum since the boy hatched so many years ago. The raw memories still stirred in her heart and seeing him look up at his mother with such a gaze of innocent adoration did nothing but unsettle her more.

When he noticed her, his face had lit up into a smile as he hopped back down and pointed up to one of the other statues. “This is grandfather?”

Maleficia’s gaze slid to where he was pointing. A strong jaw, a dangerous glint in stone-etched eyes, and a faint smirk painted the picture of the man she had once loved and held so dearly many years ago. Maleficia nodded. Malleus, taking this as encouragement, then ran back to the other statue he had been touching with his small hands.

“And this is mother?”

Again, Maleficia nodded. The painful similarities between Malleus and his mother were more apparent when they were side to side. If Maleficia were to squint, she could mistake Malleus as a younger Meleanor: the same horns, same hair length, even the same streak of mischief that got both into so much trouble.

Malleus had hummed thoughtfully before stepping down again. “Do you miss them?”

A deceptively innocent question. Of course she missed them. All she had left of her family was one grandson and three empty coffins: a husband at sea, a daughter in the hands of humans, and a son-in-law somewhere in the moors. “I do,” she offered back. “I miss them greatly.”

Malleus had asked her why, then. Children like him were filled with innocence and wonder about the world. He had no knowledge of the bodies that were lost, or the tragedies that had predicated his birth. Her reply did nothing but fuel an unease in the boy, for moments after she offered it, he ran back to her and threw his small arms around her waist.

When he hugged her, he clung with a ferocity that was baffling for his size. Her hands rested on his head and stroked his hair soothingly as she had done with Meleanor many times before she guided him away from the tombs and the memory of family he never met.

She should visit them more often now.

___________________________________

She rediscovers that there’s a privilege in watching someone grow. Lilia’s gradual return into their lives helps ease the stress of raising a child again in her older age, which is partially why she turns a blind eye every time Malleus slips out of the palace to visit the man. She’s honoured to observe in a more passive manner the way her grandson changes and grows as a person. She watches him go from spiteful towards humans to more amiable with the arrival of Lilia’s adopted son. As he grows before her eyes, she begins to see less of Meleanor and Levan in his features and more of just Malleus—the quiet, albeit arrogant, boy that was hers.

Time goes by faster as she ages alongside him. One moment he’s clinging to her skirts, and the next he’s off to NRC, and then finally, 178 years have passed like the blink of an eye. She used to bemoan how slow time was—and now she wishes it to ease off a bit.

She’s sitting in the gazebo in the gardens for reprieve, a novel in hand as the screaming of insects choruses a song for her amusement. The aroma of flowers surrounds her and for a moment she feels utter peace in the world. The summer is ending and there are no celebrations or events to concern herself with. For the first time in what feels like eons, Maleficia Draconia can breathe.

The sound of someone approaching puts a pause in this.

She lowers her book to peer over at whoever is coming, hoping silently it isn’t an advisor or a courtier seeking out an audience on the sly. Fortunately, the sight of two horns and a scowling face turning the corner nullifies this as she turns back to her book.

“Finally decided to see the sun?” She muses as she hears him stepping onto the gazebo platform. She waits for his response, but only comes to feel surprised when Malleus kneels by where she sits and does something that he hasn’t done in a long time now—he places his head in her lap. At his age, his body is too tall now to really kneel efficiently at her side, but by the gods does the boy try as he hits his head right down. Her hand comes up on instinct to brush strands of his dark hair behind his ear as he looks over the gardens, his shoulders tense with stress.

They’re silent for a moment, listening to the sounds of screaming insects from beyond before Malleus speaks.

“The gardens look atrocious.”

Maleficia raises an eyebrow as she lowers her book to look at where he’s staring. Her hand continues to stroke his head soothingly as she huffs a soft laugh. “Our groundskeepers are going for a more ‘untamed’ look this season.”

“I have counted twenty-six thistles in the minute I have been here.” Malleus shoots back as his hand comes to rest by his face. “It’s late in the season. They might be growing lazy.”

“Nonsense. You know how hard working they are. You spent ample amounts of time with them when you were younger.” She fails to hide the smile teasing on her lips with this comment. Malleus’ temper tantrums had landed him in more than enough problems in his youth. Problems which were often rectified by a gentle lesson of how hard it is to fix up his messes—garden destruction included.

Malleus deigns her with a unprincely snort in response. They fall back into a warm silence as she keeps her hand on his head and returns her attention to her book. She knows that something is on his mind, but she retains her silence both to give him an opportunity to speak, and to enjoy the moment that they’re having. In the privacy of the garden, they can get away with this rare display of familial affection.

She feels him sigh as his eyes flutter close before he speaks up. “Do you ever feel… unease?”

“Unease?” She hums quietly as she turns a page. “On many occasions I have, yes. Unease tends to go hand in hand with some of the things I have dealt with.”

She knows he doesn’t mean in the sense of his royal duties. Malleus is an unusually quiet and introverted boy—but she had noticed him being more so the past week as summer began to inch towards its end. He opens his eyes and sighs again before withdrawing to sit back on his knees.

Maleficia wisely closes her book and sets it down before affixing him with as stern of a look as she can muster without chuckling. “Sighing and moping in the corners does little to aid me in providing advice.”

Malleus’ gaze goes upwards to stare at the ceiling of the gazebo before his expression drops to a pout. “I am feeling reluctant to return to NRC.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Maleficia quietly reaches her hand out to brush his bangs back from his forehead, revealing the scale pattern beneath. Malleus’ eyes flutter shut at the gesture as his pout remains present.

“Three years have passed now, and I have yet to feel included in the school environment. Spending my days with those I already know from here hardly feels like an efficient use of time.” His jaw clenches. “Every effort I make to form any sort of connection to others feels like it’s a pointless endeavour at this rate.”

“Malleus, you must be patient with these things. It takes time for people to warm up to the likes of us. You must simply continue being yourself, and the right people will make the effort to get to know you. I understand it may seem upsetting right now, but you must simply keep trying your best.” A faint smile touches her lips despite the worry gnawing at her heart. She wishes she could do more, but she also understands that these are things he must figure out himself. “You’re going to this school to gain new experiences and see the world beyond our little Valley without the Senate looming over you. Things will work out in the end.”

Malleus’ body seems to relax at her words as he opens his eyes again. His expression eases to his usual neutral look as he nods slightly. “... yes, I suppose you are correct.”

“I often am.” She pinches his cheek lightly, causing the scowl to immediately return to his face as he jerks to avoid her grasp, making her laugh in turn. “Besides, are you not excited to see Lilia, Silver, and Sebek more often again? Well. More often than you do already.”

A pointed look has him averting her gaze as she picks her book up again. His demeanour reminds her of Meleanor, but the similarities no longer ache when she considers them. This was Malleus—her grandson, not his mother, nor his father—and she was eager to see the person he was still destined to become. “Now, you should be packing, should you not? We don’t need the crisis we had last year where we were all hunting down books for you last minute.”

Malleus groans softly before rising to his feet and brushing his pants off. He presses a brief kiss to her forehead, coaxing another smile from her lips before he pulls away.

“Yes, grandmother,” he grumbles with all the moodiness of an embarrassed teenage boy, and Maleficia can’t help but feel happiness at seeing it. Cursed or not, she will continue to enjoy these moments of joy as long as she may have them.

#bookmark◇#fave☆#kit rambles #if i get deranged enough i might actually start highlighting someonw hold me

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