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#How To Save Your Marriage When Your Husband Wants A Divorc
chuluoyi · 3 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 !
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- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader
in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, marriage of convenience, explicit smut, pregnancy
note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the second part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.2k ! thank you so much for your love in the first part🩵 but as of now, TAGLIST IS CLOSED so i'd appreciate it if the comment section won't be flooded with asks for tags :')
credit header goes to @/mongsanghwa in twitter!
prev. all hail the empress | last. long live the empire
general masterlist | series masterlist
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Heavens, help me... I love her too damn much!
For Gojo Satoru, love was once an abstract concept. At first, he thought it was admiration, or a sense of obsession—
But on the day he watched you become Zen’in Naoya’s bride, Satoru realized it was much deeper than that. It felt like the sharpest sword had pierced straight into him and lodged itself there.
And then, years later— as if hearing his prayers, you became his. Since then, his life was perfect, because he wasn't lying when he said that you were everything he wanted in life.
Yet in a twist of fate, that same sinking, horrific feeling washed over him... as he watched the pagoda he built for you engulfed in flames.
You were there. Satoru felt himself staggering as he took in the mortifying sight. You and his unborn child are inside!
He didn't waste a breath as he dashed towards where you were, crushing everything in his path in the process, but just as he was about to enter the scorching temple—
“Satoru, no!” Suguru grabbed him, restraining him with his own body. “Get back!”
“No!” he screamed at him frantically. “She is there! Suguru, let go—!”
And then the worst happened, as the pagoda completely crumbled into a heap of rubble. Satoru's breath was knocked out of him as he faced the reality that he couldn't save you in time. And he felt like losing his consciousness as he wheezed, and thrashed in Suguru's hold.
It was all too much for him to comprehend as he struggled against the devastation before him.
How... did this happen? You were happy. You were about to welcome a child into your lives! The two of you really were...
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SEVERAL WEEKS PRIOR
Your husband is trying to use you to wage a war... against your homeland.
You secluded yourself in your study, trying to make sense what you just overheard.
In a broader perspective, Satoru's actions could be constituted as national defense. If he perceived the Eastern Empire as a threat, then countermeasures were indeed necessary. But if not...
Regardless, it was not the very idea that blew you, but how he planned to use you to sway sentiment in your former country, to weaken them.
Is that what he's been aiming all this time? You felt like a hypocrite to question this since you too were using him. But these days, you were certainly not using him—you were falling in love with him.
It was strange, because you were supposed to be furious if that was his intent from the start. Yet what you felt right now was profound sadness, possibly even denial and heartbreak. You kept thinking how there must be another explanation—
“Sweetheart, hello~!”
You were startled when the door to your study was suddenly flung open, and the man from your thoughts strode in with a broad grin, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.
"Satoru." You fixed him with a genial smile, even as nausea churned within you. Straightening your skirts, you looked up at him.
"I've been told you haven't been well, and Shoko said you've seen the physician," Satoru frowned, his long fingers cradling your face as he half-sat on your desk. "How did it go? What did he say?"
"Oh..." you clammed up, feeling at loss. "He said..."
Your dashing husband tilted his head curiously, bright eyes softened, worried lines etched on his face were so clear... and despite your conflict, you didn't have the heart to deny him this news.
"I'm with child." This time, your smile was genuine as you pushed back your intrusive thoughts. "Satoru... I'm carrying our child."
For a full ten seconds, Satoru was stunned, staring at you with a blank expression, his lips slightly parted. "H-huh...? Child? A... baby?"
"Mm-hm. A living baby."
"O-oh..." Satoru blinked his eyes rapidly—looking at your face, then your abdomen—before his expression broke into absolute wonder, broadly grinning. "T-that's... oh— it's—!"
To say he was speechless didn't cut it as he stuttered, messed his hair, pinched his own cheek, becoming restless yet looking so incredibly giddy—
"My queen!" Satoru suddenly lifted you and spun you around midair. "My beautiful wife—!" before gently sitting you on the desk and burying his face in your skirts, hugging your waist tightly. "Good lord, I'm— I'm so—!"
It hadn't truly dawned on you until now that you were going to become a mother. Witnessing Satoru's unabashed reaction as he nestled his face into you… nearly brought tears to your eyes.
Right in this moment, you didn't entertain any other thoughts. You were deeply moved by your husband's overwhelming excitement for your baby. And the realization that, despite Naoya's accusations—
Satoru looked up at you the second you sniffled, and he immediately drew you closer, pressing his forehead against yours.
"Hey, no tears, yeah?" He rested a hand on your jaw, his eyes sparkling with utter adoration as he gazed at you. "This is wonderful. We're going to be parents. This child... a part of you and me—we're going to bring them into the world."
You tugged his collar close and brushed your lips against his. And he responded with equal fervor. You yearned for this closeness with him.
. . .
But still in the back of your head, that lingering, buried fear whispered—
Is the man who adores you this much... capable of hurting you to the same extent?
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With your bare bodies pressed closely, and you under him, Satoru could sense the rapid beat of your heart. And in return, you felt the heat of his palms against your skin and the tremors in his breath.
Yet now, in your marital bed, it quickly became clear to him that you, who were usually so composed and collected, were nervous. Satoru couldn't suppress the smile spreading across his face even if he tried.
"This is far from our first time, Empress." His coy smirk taunted you as he littered kisses along your jawline and chest. "What are you so jittery about, hmm?"
"Ah..." you let out a soft sigh as he sucked your breast with his mouth. "N-nothing... you're mistaken."
"Hmm... not confessing? Right..." He then grabbed the generous mound of your other breast and fondled it, making you squirm and moan.
But in the midst of this eroticism, suddenly your mind was thrown back to—
“That’s why I have her here.”
"Satoru," you breathed out, catching his hands. He looked up to you in slight surprise, thinking that you wanted to stop.
But he was in for a plot twist when you first pushed him, then flipped him underneath you, straddling him and capturing his lush lips, yanking his hair in the process.
"Whoa— hey..." Satoru held your hips, visibly startled but clearly enjoying your sudden whim, snickering. "My queen—ohh— you're a sight to behold, on top of me."
He grabbed the flesh of your bottom, sinking his fingers into it and pulling you forward. You let yourself be moved until your thighs were next to his ears.
Suddenly, it was, at once, the most peculiar experience—the greatest confidence boost you had ever received, and the hottest thing he had ever seen.
"You're so damn wet already," your husband nipped your inner thigh playfully as he observed your folds, and you gasped. "Are you ready?"
In response, you slammed yourself onto his face because, right now, you were in a less than forgiving mood.
"You look good under me," you darkly retorted, but then you choked on your own breath when your husband started licking your folds messily with his tongue.
Satoru smirked at the sound of your breathless noises, responding by lapping even more fervently. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tightening their grip on his scalp as you began to grind yourself against his face.
"You a-are really n-nasty!" you moaned, voice breaking at the feeling his sinful tongue parting your opening. "Maybe y-you have lied to me… all th-is time."
Satoru furrowed his brows in slight confusion, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, as he pinched your clit in retaliation, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.
"You're— awful!" but contrary to your claims, your face contorted with pleasure as the tight coil in your belly spasmed. "How m-many women... h-have you beguiled like m-me?"
He almost laughed into your ass. Literally. If being called awful was the price for pleasuring the most beautiful woman in the lands, then Satoru would be happy to be that horrible person every day of his life.
But then, you suddenly shifted on top of him, no longer positioning your hips in his face, and he quickly caught your face, crashing his lips against yours so both of you wouldn’t part for even a second.
"Nobody else," he murmured, wet lips and tongue ravishing yours, so much lust glistening in his eyes. "I'm all yours— forever." Just as he whispered it amidst pants, he groaned when your hand sneakily went to his very hard length.
And firmly grasped it. He got swollen just by tasting you and hearing your noises earlier. He growled, and against his senses, he pushed you down to lodge it inside you, penetrating and splitting you apart in one go.
“Ah—! Satoru— it’s too…!” you babbled breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders, feeling his huge cock pulsing inside your tight walls.
“Your fault,” he rebuked, eyes narrowing into darker shades, rigorously moving his hips against yours as he sat up. It was impossible to hold it in any longer, he could feel it already.
He tensed up, adjusting his position, so close to losing it inside you, and when he heard your dirty mewls and felt you shudder—reverberating through his body too—Satoru gripped your waist tighter, groaning, holding you in place to release his load inside you with precision.
Your body gave in as well, releasing at the same moment his cum burst inside you. Your vision blurred as the nastiest of moans escaped you, yet you felt so safe as your husband caught you in his arms.
. . .
"Are you okay?" Satoru asked worriedly after you rolled off him in the aftermath of your bliss. "Do you feel sick?" Your unfocused eyes met his, and he looked panicked, pulling you closer. "Shit, did I go too far? I shouldn't have, especially with the baby still in the early stages..."
"I'm... okay," you croaked, trying to reassure him. "Just tired..."
Heaving a relieved sigh, Satoru pecked you in the lips.
"Am I... a mess?" you leaned on him with a blissful smile, feeling his cum still trickling out between your legs.
"Yeah... My beautiful mess, that is." Satoru chuckled, reveling in the state of your disarray. "Soon enough," his hands traced your skin before settling on your tummy, a fond smile curving his lips. "Our baby will grow here."
"Yes—" you replied, placing your palm over his. "Do you... want a boy or girl?"
A boy would be the much sought-after prince, and you fully expected him to favor it, until to your surprise, Satoru lightly hummed and pressed a kiss on your belly button.
"Does that matter? What's important is you deliver them safely and they're healthy," he chuckled. "A princess will be nice... she'll turn out to be as lovely as you."
"But the heir has to be a prince..."
"Nah. I can always amend the succession norms. I'm the emperor."
And you giggled next. Seeing how free you looked, Satoru thought you were the woman overturning his skies and stars, and you truly are—as now you are the mother of his own flesh and blood, his future empire.
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There will be a nation-wide celebration for you. Satoru insisted it was a must, and he would invite dignitaries from neighboring empires and kingdoms as well.
Including the Eastern Empire.
. . .
“Your Majesty. I... bring a gift and an invitation from the Western Empire.”
Naoya clacked his heel on the carpet, casting a sharp, yet uninterested look at his aide.
“There will be a celebration for—” the poor man gulped uneasily, faltering as if he could foresee how his emperor would react. Naoya scowled.
“Spit it out.”
“The former empress’ pregnancy, Your Majesty!”
“What...?” At that moment, he snapped his head towards him. It felt like everything he had ever known came crashing down. “Y/N...?”
That can’t be possible. For many years both of you had failed. That was why he took that maid and divorced you. No, upon reflection, it was never truly his intention to divorce you—he had wanted you to raise that child if you couldn't bear one.
But then you completely ignored him and had an affair with Gojo Satoru. He was furious. He couldn't bear the disgrace of it all, so he went with the divorce, if only to assert some control. However, the joke was on him, as you ultimately fled with Gojo entirely.
But if you aren’t infertile... Then, what did that make him?
Numerous thoughts ran through his mind. Was it possible that it was his child instead of Gojo’s? How many months had it been anyway?
...or could it be that he is the one who is—!
“No...” he muttered, frantic, taking sharp breaths. “Absolute rubbish!”
The aide stared at him in fear, as Naoya appeared unhinged now. But soon, that fear gave away to pity, as the emperor trashed his desk and howled in frustration— but contrary to the expected fury, Naoya looked like he was mourning, evident by the way he flung everything but the very portrait from his coronation day.
Of him and you. Even after that disastrous divorce, he had never taken it down from the wall of his study. Now, Naoya was staring at it, a multitude emotions clouding his eyes.
This man, just as the aide had always thought, has thrown away the only good thing he has in his life.
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“Are the invitations sent already?” Satoru asked with a blooming smile, rolling the yarn out of his cat’s reach as the poor kitty grappled to catch it. “And how are the preparations going?”
“Banquets are usually handled by the Empress, but you really go out of your way and do it instead,” Suguru shook his head, unamused by the added workload it brought him, especially considering his disinterest in festivities.
“They’re all sent, some of them responded—before you ask, Naoya hasn’t— and I’ve cascaded the preparation to Shoko, since I have no clue what to do about it.”
“Well, not that I care if he’s going to stay sour and wants his name tarnished in the daily papers as a bitter ex-husband…” Satoru shrugged, petting Sugu-chan as the cat purred contentedly. “He is tactless, he very well might be.”
“You really want to spite him, don’t you…” Suguru sighed. “You even sent him a note. It was unnecessary.”
“He was the one hurling curses at me and my empress first. I’m just returning the favor.”
The note in question was of lines after lines of flowery nonsense about gratitude and whatnot. Satoru imagined Naoya's vein would burst after reading his card.
“I’m happy for you, Satoru.” As exasperated as Suguru was, his smile was genuine when he said it. “A royal baby, huh...”
"Suguru." The emperor's voice suddenly dropped an octave, surprising him. "What about the placement of the totem I told you the other day?"
The abrupt shift in conversation made Suguru visibly uncomfortable, and again, they were back to this topic.
"You're seriously going to do this?" the duke asked, almost in disbelief. "Satoru, you're going to become a father. You have everything already. This will lead to war one way or another, and—what if the Empress finds out? How do you think it'll make her feel?"
However, Satoru's gaze was cold as he dismissed most of Suguru's tirade. There was a chill in his expression that made his longtime friend inwardly questioned who the man before him was.
"I'm asking you. Have you done it or not, Suguru?"
"You're going to put a curse on a whole village, Satoru."
"I told Zen'in Naoya the moment I got Y/N, that it would mark the beginning of his downfall. I'm making good on that promise."
Suguru pressed his eyes shut to calm his fury. Morally, what Satoru did was wrong, but politically, this was the art of war. Suguru purely opposed to this out of consideration for you.
Few understood Satoru's actions as well as Suguru did. He might understand, others like you and Shoko wouldn't.
"Just remember, when the Empress catches wind of this, she's going to resent you," Suguru warned. "No matter what your reasoning might be."
Satoru's upper lip curled upwards, his eyes bereft of light, narrowing with indifference.
"Unless you never tell her, that is of no relevance."
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Love... has he ever loved you all this time?
Naoya had never been confronted with that question or pondered it, simply because he never considered love existed within the context of something as grand as monarchy.
You were chosen because you were well-bred and well-versed in the arts of nobility. You were indeed the epitome of an ideal empress, a fact evident throughout your tenure.
But...
"Naoya!" you yelled at him and caught his hand. "You're a fool! Why did you keep doing that!?"
It was a long-buried memory, when you were still in your teens, around the time you were just made the crown princess. His hands, bruised and bloodied, and you tended to them.
"I'm not weak, you know," he sullenly barked. "I have to train to be stronger."
"You definitely have to train, yes... but you have to take breaks!" you retorted angrily.
"Why do you care so much anyway?" he snapped back. "It's not like your hands that are injured."
And that moment, you were suddenly almost in tears. Naoya never understood why.
"Don't cry." But his instincts told him to make you not cry. "Don't cry. I'm fine, see?"
. . .
Zen'in Naoya jerked awake from his slumber, realizing he had forgotten what his dream was, that it was still the late afternoon, and he was still in his study.
All he felt was that nostalgic feeling, and it intensified when he glanced up... only to see his coronation portrait on the wall.
It was almost as if you were still here. You were incredibly stunning, he had to admit that. Why hadn’t he realized until just recently?
The way your crimson dress flowed out, and that thin, serene smile on your face... you were a picture-perfect empress, and that was not an exaggeration. No one could measure up to you—
"Your Majesty~!"
Especially not Hanabi.
"Your Majesty, the princess has started holding her head up!" Hanabi, now no longer dressed in rags but rather in one of your dresses, excitedly remarking, "Soon, she will start to—"
Naoya's gaze fell on her dress. He recognized it instantly. That specific deep, vibrant shade of red with serpent-like waistband. It was one of his gifts to you for your birthday. "Why are you wearing that?"
"Huh?" she seems perplexed. "Oh this... I thought it looks pretty..."
But to her surprise, he suddenly flared with fury. "That isn't yours, you dullard," he spat out.
Her expression sank in heartbreak as he continued with his venomous speech. "Know your place." His words cut like a blade. "And I keep telling you, a princess is of no use to the throne!"
Hanabi fought to hold back the tears, because not only had he insulted her, worse still, he showed no interest in their daughter. "She is still of your blood, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice trembling.
"I told you, I only want a heir." His sneer caused her eyes to widen in shock. "Other than that, I won't care."
"Your Majesty, please—" Hanabi was desperate for him to acknowledge their daughter, when she caught sight of your ethereal face on the wall.
He still hasn't taken it down. It made her eyes twitch, and her own anger to rise.
"The former empress..." she stared at your picture resentfully. "You still have her here. We never even have our portraits painted..."
Naoya's icy gaze leveled at her without a hint of sympathy, despite the woman standing before him being the mother of his child.
"Why do you look at me like that?" Hanabi asked, tears spilling from her eyes. "You used to care for me when you thought I would bear you a son. Even if it's a daughter, she deserves love too, doesn't she?"
In the last five years, she had come to know that the emperor wasn't always this manic person. He used to be gentler, or at least not as vindictive.
And she never truly wanted you to be cast away like that. She looked up to you, admired you from up close, and meant it when she said she would carry your legacy as best as she could.
"Are you dumb?" Naoya barked. "I told you to know your place!"
...yet why? Why are people in this palace so harsh to her?
“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi. Beware, the emperor is fickle…”
Your unkind eyes, Naoya's disdainful stares even after she gave birth to his child... She didn't even care about becoming the empress anymore. She just wanted a happy life!
"If it was the former empress' child... even if it was a princess..." Hanabi turned to him with determination even amidst her pitiful tears. "You wouldn't cast her aside just like you do now with my daughter, would you, Your Majesty?"
Naoya's gaze, devoid of emotion and filled with blatant disinterest more than anything, shot through her, hurting her more than if it was filled with fury instead.
The lack of warmth in his stare made her feel like being looked through rather than being seen. As if she is that insignificant.
"Leave," he ordered coldly next, turning his back on her.
And there is her answer.
Hanabi had been your maid for five long years. She knew who you were, what you stood for, and your whole demeanor. Yet, despite her best efforts, she could never emulate you in the same way, could she?
. . .
"My lady... don't you know that the former empress is with child?"
Once again, Hanabi felt the sting of ice when her lady-in-waiting delivered the news.
"Empress... Y/N?" she whispered. "How...?"
You were stripped of your titles here, and yet you still remained a queen somewhere else. Hanabi might have won Naoya's favor, but now she was losing it while you had another emperor's affection.
Not much had changed about you. You still occupied the highest seat a woman could possibly attain. Whereas she...
"But she is barren!" she turned to her confidant then, almost in disbelief.
"Evidently not. Emperor Gojo has proven that."
How nice. A part of Hanabi wanted to congratulate you because she knew of your sufferings—how much you longed to hold a baby from your womb in your arms.
How unfair... But another part of her couldn't help but despise you. Because even in your absence, she still had to live in your shadow. Because you, who had lost everything, regained it all so easily.
"And my lady... Emperor Gojo is going to throw a banquet for this occasion next month. You are expected to attend it."
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"Sweetheart, you asleep?"
One night, several weeks later, just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt the sheets shift as Satoru slipped into bed beside you.
Though you didn't turn to face him, you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist from behind.
"Satoru... you're back," you murmured sleepily.
"Mm-hmm," he whispered, pulling you closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair, taking in your scent. "Shoko told me you've been in your bedchamber since breakfast. Are you okay?"
"I get queasy if I walk too much, so I've been lying down all day... But don't worry, the physician said it's normal in early stages of pregnancy."
His grip on you tightened, as he caressed your belly. "Hmm, naughty baby. I'm sorry I wasn't here..."
"Where were you?"
For days now, he had been away, and you hadn't really questioned him. You had your guesses though—
"I was overseeing the construction of a new pagoda," he said softly, kissing your neck. "For you, actually."
That was so unexpected that it made you open your eyes fully. "What— for me?" Building pagoda was definitely not a small affair. Usually it was for religious purposes.
"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby. It's expected to be completed before your celebration banquet."
The tower would be the testament of his love for you and your unborn child. Despite yourself, your heart swelled with overwhelming warmth.
"You're so silly... why do you spend the tax funds for that?" you brushed off the faint heat in your face, not daring to look at him still.
"Whatever I wouldn't do for you?" he cheekily retorted, chuckling.
You had never felt this cherished before, and this time you were certain—you were more than ready to fall in love with this man.
But he... is planning to use you, isn't he?
"Satoru." You shuffled to turn and face him, causing him to crack his lidded eyes open. You gazed at him, placing both of your hands on his face, caressing his face softly.
You're so kind to me. I appreciate you for that. You wanted to tell him various things, but the darkness in your heart ever since overhearing his exchange with Suguru made it hard for you to do so.
"Mm? What is it?" he drawled with a small smile, leaning into your touch.
“You... love me, don't you?”
His bright eyes found yours then, sharp and steady. An impossibly fond smile graced his lips, as if finding what you said the most natural thing there was.
“Throughout heaven and earth,” he proclaimed, his voice steady to match his eyes. “Yes, my queen.”
...then you would trust him, if only just for this moment. The genuine sincerity in his eyes, the raw authenticity in his words... it all felt too real.
And so, even when you were well-aware of the bitter possibility of truth, you leaned in and kissed him, giving yourself to his touch as his hand slipped inside you.
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And soon, came the day of the lavish banquet solely held to celebrate your pregnancy.
You were seated on your throne, dressed in a stunning aquamarine gown. The skirt of the dress was full and flowing, spilling onto the floor in a waterfall of shimmering fabric. Upon your head perched your crown of diamonds, glinting beneath the light, and your ceremonial veil to make you look as queenly as you could possibly be.
Everyone would agree that you were a sight to behold, and that you were worthy of every praise possible.
"Many congratulations to you, Your Majesty."
"This is a splendid news! A royal baby!"
"To think that the emperor has settled down... sniff, how long have we been waiting for this...? We almost gave up."
You almost giggled at the way Archbishop Yaga wiped his tears with a handkerchief as he presented you with his gift.
Despite your initial reservations, you enjoyed the festivities more than you expected. You had opposed the idea at first, finding it quite unnecessary, but Satoru had pouted for three long days until you eventually relented to appease him.
Speaking of him, he was equally dressed to impress, looking every bit as an emperor he was in an exquisite aquamarine military uniform and robes. Despite engaging in conversation with Earl Nanami, he kept a watchful eye on you, stealing glances in your direction to ensure you were well.
You nodded at him, and he threw you a wink. You smiled.
Everything was truly going well... until the herald announced:
"Prince Megumi and Royal Consort Hanabi from Eastern Empire!"
There was suddenly a hush over the crowd as the two made their entrance. You stilled, looking at the figure responsible for your checkered life—
Hanabi was starkly different since the last you saw her at the courthouse during your divorce. Her dress was now a vibrant shade of burgundy red, reminiscent of a gown you once wore. Gone was her air of humility, replaced by a display of extravagance befitting a noblewoman.
She is no longer your maid, but Naoya's consort. There was no trace of the woman who once served you. You were actually impressed, as she could actually shape herself into the image of a royal consort.
"Empress." However, your attention quickly shifted to Naoya's nephew, and once also your ward, Megumi, as he bowed before you respectfully. "Congratulations."
A fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you regarded the young prince who had once been a very shy individual. It reminded you of the days spent with him just to get him out of his shell.
"Thank you, Megumi."
"Diamonds suit you far better than golds do. I wish only for the best for you, Your Majesty."
It warmed your heart, really. Using that reference to your gold crown from your time in the Eastern Empire, you could see how much Megumi truly understood your position and bore no resentment towards you.
Could the same be said for Naoya though?
Right after you received his gift—an ornate box that seemed oddly familiar to you—Hanabi suddenly blurted out:
"So, fate has smiled upon you. Congratulations Empress Y/N." She kept that soft, meaningful smile on her face as she offered her felicitations.
Ever since her arrival was announced, something about her demeanor had bothered you. There was a subtle emptiness that seemed to linger in her gaze.
"Thank you," you responded, and that was when you noticed it. There was never any celebration for the birth of her daughter and Naoya, only a passing announcement.
And so, you added. "Congratulations on the birth of the princess too."
You could have sworn her expression fell for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and bowed her head to you.
For a while, you lost sight of her in the crowd, feeling quite comfortable in your dais. Soon after, Satoru returned to your side, and the herald announced:
"Attention! His Majesty the Emperor's gift for Her Majesty the Empress!"
You looked at Satoru questioningly, and he gave you a dashing smirk before turning to the crowd.
"Thank you, all of you, for joining us to celebrate this joyous occasion." The way he carried himself and the sheer confidence he exuded was mesmerizing, you couldn't deny how it made you swoon. "I've been infamous for many things, and I'm sure the tales have spread far and wide. So please, allow me one more gesture with you as the witnesses."
The crowd giggled at his words, and you finally spotted Hanabi among them, quietly assessing the scene.
Your husband turned to you, a soft smile on his face.
"This is for you my empress— my lovely queen. Words can't describe how elated I am to know that now you bear our child." He took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "And it's only fitting that I praise you along with the skies and the stars."
A footman arrived and presented a pearly box. Satoru opened it, revealing a necklace inside. The centerpiece was a large, flawless diamond surrounded by smaller, perfectly cut stones of the same kind. No matter how you saw it, it was truly a work of art, meant to captivate and dazzle anyone who laid eyes on it.
You let out a gasp. "This..."
Satoru grinned, picking up the jewelry and preparing to place it on you. "Nothing much. Just a little trinket for you."
"This is not just a 'little trinket'!"
Your banter elicited another round of snickers from the audience as Satoru fastened the necklace around your neck. The moment he did, the crowd erupted into applause.
"Actually, my real gift is the new pagoda in the royal gardens, built in honor of the Empress," Satoru stated effortlessly, grinning unabashedly. "Feel free to stop by later, everyone."
To the ton, for him to gift you with something so sacred was the height of extravagance. Some of them wondered how you had managed to turn the elusive emperor into someone so devoted to you.
And a few... might be harboring ill will against you for it.
. . .
Later that night, you were sorting through the gifts you had received throughout the day.
"I don't understand, why would you give an expecting woman this?" Shoko picked apart a manuscript that was the gift from Archbishop Yaga. "Who would read this?"
"I wouldn't, but I'm sure Duke Geto would," you replied, and soon the two of you were giggling together.
From jewelry to ornaments, you were pleased with all the gifts presented by the guests from day one. While most were given out of formality, it was heartwarming to imagine your baby seeing all these someday.
Your attention soon turned to the box Megumi handed you earlier—Naoya's gift.
You were intrigued, because what could your spiteful ex-husband could possibly give you? And you immediately reached over to open the lid to find...
"What's that?" Shoko asked as your eyes widened in slight surprise.
Inside the box was an intricate gold and ruby necklace. One you knew well. The very one you wore during your coronation as the Empress of the Eastern Empire.
Years ago, Naoya himself had chosen this piece for you, and now he was gifting it to you, again?
“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”
Reliving years of your marriage with him wasn't easy. You two were childhood sweethearts, and had been happy in the beginning. You couldn't pinpoint when things began to fall apart, but suddenly Naoya turned into such a person you didn't recognize altogether.
Seeing this relic made you nostalgic, and before you realized it, you touched it, trying to get a better look—
"Ah—!"
Suddenly, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your abdomen. You instantly dropped the jewelry, letting it crash to the ground, and clutched your lower belly.
"Empress! What happened?!" Shoko rushed to your side in an instant, holding you up, and you whimpered.
"It hurts—!" Your breath hitched, as a seemingly invisible knife gutted you from inside. The intensity of the pain was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. "Shoko, please—"
And before you could even scream or think, the pain blindsided you and your vision titled, before blacking out completely.
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First came the warmth, then a reassuring squeeze on your hand. As your consciousness returned, you felt groggy, with your surroundings sharpening into focus.
The first thing that became your main focus the moment your eyes fluttered open was Satoru's face, a mixture of fright and relief etched across his features.
"You're awake..." He breathlessly muttered, sitting on your bedside, interlacing his fingers with yours. "How do you feel?"
"Sa...toru..." your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and as soon as he heard you speak, he exhaled sharply, pulling you into a tight embrace.
"Heavens, I—" he let out a long sigh, his breath hot against your neck. "I'm so glad... you are..."
"What h-happened to me...?" you were feeling feverish and a dull throb was pounding at the back of your head, before the shock of it all dawned on you. "B-baby...! Our—!"
"Baby is okay too, don't worry," Satoru assured, pulling away from you to gently touch your cheek and squeeze your hand. "Both of you are fine for now..."
The horror that you might lose your baby shook you to the very core. Your vision blurred with the threatening onset of tears.
"Wh-at happened to me, Satoru...?" you asked again as he wiped your first falling tears, your heartbeat sounding so loud in your ears. "I-I was just..."
His expression took on a sudden shift, as if a dark cloud had passed over his face.
"You came into contact with a cursed object," he stated, his eyes hard as he locked onto yours. "You were cursed, Y/N."
"What...?" You were rendered speechless, feeling your body starting to shake. Cursed object? Your past coronation necklace?
Naoya was trying to curse you?
"It's okay, I'm here now, yeah?" Satoru's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, grounding you in the present. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." he repeated, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours with intensity.
“I’m here. I’m here with you. Nothing—absolutely nothing—will touch you so long as I’m here.”
But in that moment, your mind was so overwhelmed with fear for yourself and your unborn baby that you couldn't fully grasp the magnitude of the mess unfolding before you, and you just cried in his arms.
Feeling your feeble fingers fisting his robes and your inconsolable tears staining his collar, Satoru gritted his teeth.
“This won't happen again,” he whispered into your hair, feeling his rage simmering as he felt the tremors of your sobs against his chest. “I swear, I won't let anything like this happen again.”
To Satoru, that was more than enough to justify all his subsequent actions. Putting a curse on his empress essentially amounted to an act of beginning a war.
And it also meant he no longer had to operate behind the scenes.
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“Keep them in Clock Tower. No contact. Only food and water at designated times.”
Satoru's icy gaze on the captain of royal guard compelled him to hastily comply with the order, before his eyes landing on the map of the entire continent.
In response to the incident that befell you, he issued orders for open hostility along the eastern and western borders. Soon after, he would formally declare his intention to go to war.
So close. He was so close to achieving his end goal.
. . .
"Satoru!"
Several days later, Suguru burst into his study, visibly outraged. He clenched his fists, looking as if he was about to throttle him altogether.
"You—" he heaved a harsh breath. "You have gone too far!"
"What are you talking about, Suguru?"
"Is cursing the entire winery village not enough for you?" This was the first time Suguru had been this furious with him. "Did you really have to massacre the neighboring district as well?!"
"They have placed a curse on my empress." It was so easy for him to say it. "Anyone who dares to harm her shall die."
"You can direct it at Zen'in Naoya! Not the innocent civilians!"
Satoru remained silent, neither shaken nor enraged, and he had finally had enough.
“Are you even sure it’s because the empress is cursed?" Suguru challenged. In his view, this farce had been going on too long.
“No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”
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You were informed, days later.
“His Majesty has placed the prince and royal consort of the Western Empire under strict watch in Clock Tower.”
Clock Tower was essentially the prison where they kept war criminals. Learning that Satoru had confined both Megumi and Hanabi there left you aghast.
After some days of bedrest and getting better, you realized that the entire situation still didn't make sense to you. As hateful as Naoya was, harming you would do him more harm than good. Eastern and Western Empires stood evenly matched in military power, and hence, a conflict between them would bring devastation to both sides.
And moreover, you knew for sure was that Megumi was definitely not the one responsible for this. He was just a boy!
You had to let him out somehow. You had to talk to Satoru about this.
Or at least that was what you thought when you came close to his study.
“Are you even sure it's because the empress is cursed? No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”
You stopped on your tracks—stunned into place, to be exact.
“And you’ve struck gold when she did because her influence will provide you with greater advantage.” Suguru scoffed then, lightly shaking his head with a sneer. “Love? How laughable. All these years, you are planning your warpath, how could you claim you love her when you're trying to ravage her homeland without even considering the impact it would have on her?”
It felt like whiplash. Geto Suguru's voice had your feet rooted to the spot, causing all your doubts to resurface and sizzle in an instant. The very question you had tried to avoid, it was suddenly shoved in your face.
What... will Satoru say? Your heart thumped so loud in your ears it made you almost stagger. He couldn't possibly. He simply couldn't. All his actions... they reflected his affection for you and you believed it because you felt it yourself too.
But Satoru's next response was—
“Even when she is derided as the devil, I will bring an end to the Zen’in line in this lifetime.”
And a part of your heart withers then.
The tips of your fingers trembled, finally taking in everything that you had tried to ignore for the past few weeks. It all caught up to you in one overwhelming rush.
Suddenly, it felt as if something inside your chest was torn out and held up for you to see.
"I'm telling you, that day will come sooner than you think, Satoru." Suguru's voice broke through, his frustration palpable. His words snapped you out of your reverie, and you took a step back, retreating to the safety of your study.
The first time you felt utter hollowness wrecking you was when you had suspected that Naoya might have taken Hanabi to his bed. The feelings overwhelming you now were eerily similar to how you felt back then.
Only in this case…
You had used him first, and if he used you in return... you couldn't fault him.
But isn't it still a bitter truth, even when a mutual transaction is very well within his rights, to know that what you believe as love may apparently not really be the case?
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Love... of course, he loves you.
Of that, he was certain.
But at the same time… he had his ambitions.
Destroying the Eastern Empire. Was it so wrong that he wanted it? Didn't you want this as well? After all, Naoya had spurned you for a lowly servant and made your life hell, didn’t he?
Satoru strolled through the halls and made his way to your study, where the sight of you, so pretty and regal in your seat, greeted him.
His beautiful, graceful wife and empress of his nation. For so long, he had desired you, and now here you were, perched within his walls. His heart couldn't be more full— his life is complete already.
"Sweetheart, hey... how are you feeling today?" an adoring grin was visible on his face as he approached you. "Does the baby give you trouble today?"
You didn't answer though, and didn't look at him either. It was quite strange, Satoru thought.
"What's wrong? Is there something—" And when you finally turned to him, the look in your eyes was so eerily cold it almost gave him a chill.
"Release Megumi from your dungeon," you told him with a strained tone. "And return him to his home empire."
The smile on Satoru's face vanished that instant.
"I can't do that."
You rose from your seat, facing him. "He is just a child."
Satoru regarded you with a stern look. “That child you speak about is a prince of the Eastern Empire. He has committed a great crime against you.”
“Naoya didn’t do it.” Your steely gaze was unflinching. “He might be senseless, but he isn’t insane enough to deliberately go into a war he might possibly lose.”
Satoru's eyes darkened at your words, as you stood before him with determination. The way you were so adamant somehow took him aback. “How... could you defend him? He has wronged you!”
It was one question you had expected, and you had the answer ready.
“Even if he has, I could never wish doom upon my own homeland, Satoru. I’ve lived most of my life there, I did a great deal of things there— even if you harbor some sort of misguided contempt or just bloodthirsty enough to lay ruin to Eastern Empire, I refuse to be the puppet for your schemes!”
There it was. You had said it. Everything would crumble once again just like your previous marriage.
Satoru was staring at you in slight disbelief, his eyes gleamed with something that you couldn't really pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment?
“Your life was in danger, as was our unborn child’s. Don’t you care about that—!” he actually had to stop to catch his breath. “Don’t you care that our child nearly didn't make it?”
“And? You must have thought it was the perfect grounds for declaring a war?” but you didn’t relent and questioned him with a scoff. “And afterwards, you would try to use me to gain defectors from Eastern Empire, is that it?”
You saw the flash of surprise in your now-husband's eyes right when you recited his words, but you weren't about to hold back any longer now.
“Now you’re using my safety to justify your actions,” you hissed, feeling like suddenly you understood what all of this was. “You’re quite cunning, Satoru. I’ve heard everything—you will do anything to bring an end to the Zen'in lineage! You won’t even consider the repercussions of my reputation being tarnished across the lands!”
“Is that even important now?” Satoru gritted his teeth to suppress his irritation. “You have been cursed. Do you honestly think I would let them get away with cursing my empress? How could I, who seek to protect you, be more vicious than whoever in Eastern Empire who cursed you with that necklace?”
“You’re doing this for your personal gratification!” you exclaimed. “It is never about me. You’re just a warmonger!”
The moment those words left your lips, Satoru stilled. His gaze on you faltered, and you could’ve sworn hurt flashed in his face.
“Just how low… is your opinion of me?” he asked, his tone dropping, eyes devoid of emotion. “You jump into conclusions only after overhearing something in a passing and yet you know for sure Naoya wouldn’t harm you—” he clenched his jaw.
“You… really loved him, didn’t you?” he asked with a sardonic smile. “I know it already. You won’t ever be able to do the same for me. You can’t even trust me.”
You were rendered speechless. Despite your doubts of him, hearing this still felt like a slap in your face.
Won’t be able to do the same for him? No. That’s not true. You are—
Satoru let out a defeated laugh and ran his hand through his hair, leaving you uncertain whether he was amused or heartbroken by your lack of response.
“It’s funny, how I have loved you for so long... but apparently the woman I believed to have even a semblance of affection for me doesn’t even exist.”
It felt like that one part of you that was capable of feeling love had been stabbed once again.
To say this out loud hurt you deeply, unbeknownst to him. You didn’t mean this at all, still it was what came out of you, out of spite—
“In the end, we’re just using each other. That’s all we amount to.”
Satoru bitterly snorted, finding your accusation so unfair to him.
“How cruel is it that I’m the only one who has to prove this love to you? What about you? You’re terribly, horribly selfish!”
You stayed silent, looking away, caught between the scorching knives that seemed to twist your heart and conflicting emotions in it, uncertain of what to believe anymore. And you didn't really know what heartbreak was like before—
“It has been really exhausting, and I don’t want to bother anymore.”
When his gaze next met yours, dark and piercing, you realized he was no longer the same man who once promised you love and devotion.
“You're free to believe whatever truth you wish. But remember, even if you are my wife and the empress of this nation, should you commit any transgressions… I won’t hesitate to accuse you of treason, Empress.”
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You have committed treason.
Satoru had conducted investigation of the sorts just to prove his point. And yet days later, no direct evidence pointing towards Megumi or Hanabi were found in that cursed necklace.
Punishment for treason is imminent death. You were well-aware of that more than anyone, but your consciousness wouldn't allow it if Megumi had to be hanged due to Satoru's antagonism.
"Your Majesty, your kindness knows no bounds," Megumi said, dropping to one knee before you and lowering his head in the throne room. Satoru had chosen not to grace any of you with his presence, leaving you alone to bid farewell to both Megumi and Hanabi.
Since then, you hadn't spoken with him, nor had he visited your chambers. It was as if he considered you nonexistent at all.
And it is really only a matter of time before he finds out.
But at the very least, you were right. It was never Megumi. That boy was fond of you, he could never. So, you shifted your gaze on the woman next to him.
"Royal Consort Hanabi. A word."
It was the cue for everyone else to exit the throne room. Now, you were faced with this woman once again, and yet one thing remained the same— you were still towering over her.
"Why did you do it?" Your calm gaze betrayed a quiet anger that was unmistakably clear. All because of this woman. It was beyond you, how despite having left your past life behind, she had somehow managed to taint your new one as well.
Hanabi looked away, a hint of shame coloring her features. "Your Majesty knows, so why do you spare me?" she asked quietly.
"How preposterous of you to think that I have spared you," you scoffed. "All this time, have you learned nothing at all from standing by Naoya's side?"
She flinched, visibly making herself smaller at your unforgiving tone, still, she dared herself to meet your eyes.
"Can I ask... why you never consider it as Emperor Naoya's doing?" she seemed more confused more than anything, even as her lips wobbled. "The two of you... you don't really hate each other, so why...?"
You didn't want to dwell on why Naoya had chosen that specific piece of jewelry to return to you. If anything, you'd consider it his final parting gift and be done with it.
But the naivety of this woman was astounding. Someone like her wouldn't last long in your seat. You let out a sigh, torn between feeling sorry for her or not.
"You have much to learn about court affairs, Hanabi. And do not think this is an act of mercy. Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."
Hanabi trembled where she stood, her breaths were shallow, and her hands shook slightly as she struggled to maintain composure in your presence.
Realizing it was futile to continue the conversation, you decided to conclude it.
"Know that I will never forgive you for what you have done to me." Your sharp eyes squared on her, the cold ire in your tone making her shudder.
In all the years Hanabi had known you, you had never appeared more fearsome than you did now, adorned in silks of deep blue hues, with that crown of diamonds gleaming in your head.
Then, as if sealing her fate, you delivered these parting words:
"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."
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The palace felt suffocating for you. After sending Hanabi away, you took a walk in the gardens, followed closely by your ladies-in-waiting.
Good heavens, what have you done? You definitely didn't regret saving Megumi, but no matter how, you had committed a great crime against your own empire. A sentence would loom over your head!
And what about your baby? Would Satoru execute you while you still had his child inside you?
The very thought made your vision tilt, and you had to lean on the wall for support. Your ladies-in-waiting were immediately clamoring against each other.
"Leave," you commanded, trying to catch your breath while doing so. "I'll… take some time to rest here."
It took you a moment to realize you had reached the pagoda that Satoru had commissioned for you. This was your first time visiting it. The structure was magnificent, towering in height and adorned with exquisite decorations, leaving you in awe.
"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby."
You wanted to cry. His voice, soft and smooth, conveyed those words so easily to you. He really loved you, didn't he? What made you so unsure about that undeniable fact?
And now you had broken his heart.
Your hand reached for your belly. Though hidden by your dress, you could distinctly feel that it had become firmer these days, holding the product of your love with Satoru.
"I'm sorry, baby..." you whispered, heartbroken. "I didn't mean to drag you into this too..."
You felt nauseous, your breaths come in short pants, and you felt a headache coming. It didn't really register to you that you had crashed into the candle table, before you collected yourself and ventured deeper inside.
You just wanted a sense of peace and quiet. You would think more later, and right now, the darkness inside felt like a comforting lull for you to rest.
. . .
Or at least that was what you had intended, until you looked back and saw the swirling inferno creeping through the halls.
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It didn't take long for Satoru to figure out you had really orchestrated Megumi's release.
More than his wounded pride, it was the searing pain of realizing that you truly believed he was only using you for his own benefit. It felt like an insult to everything he had done for you.
Why couldn't you see that? Just how hard is it for you to understand?
And now that it had come to this... what did you expect from him? Should he really make good on his word and punish you? It tore his heart to even consider it.
However, what was worse was… did you think he was really capable of that too?
Amidst his heartache, suddenly he heard loud commotion from outside his study, yells and cries of help— and it roused him from his thoughts that he came out of his study, only to come right into a familiar face.
"Anyone! Anyone at all!" one of your maids was running, sobbing and hysterical. "Her Majesty! Please help Her Majesty!"
"What is all of this ruckus?" Satoru demanded, catching the maid by the hand, as she stuttered in tears.
And then, everything came crashing down with the next words.
"The Empress— is trapped inside the burning tower!"
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howtoexloveback · 2 years
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Learn Here How You Can Save Your Marriage and Stop A Divorce after separation
Learn Here How You Can Save Your Marriage and Stop A Divorce after separation
Relationships are not, at this point the hallowed function which used to tie two individuals for lifetime since individuals are taking these things nonchalantly nowadays. Any little issue in a marriage can without much of a stretch raise towards a separation since couples are not difficult stay together nowadays. They can undoubtedly leave each other instead of accommodating subsequent to having…
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coucouatoi · 7 months
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don't want to be alone | h.s.
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Pairings: Harry Styles x Reader
Summary: Divorcing the biggest superstar on the planet is the hardest thing you've ever done. Almost as hard as marrying him was.
Warnings: Angst, couples therapy, a little bit of fluff, hopeful ending
A/N: I don't know why I'm feeling so full of angst... but, please enjoy!
Flashback are in italic and present day is normal text
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Boxes are littered around the house. Some full and taped shut others still being stuffed with your items. It's a slow and torturous process, having to choose what to take, what to throw out and what things are a conversation waiting to happen "That's a wedding gift from my aunt" or "When have you ever used that?" or even better "I know it was a gift, but I paid for it so i'll keep it". It's like he knows exactly which buttons to press to get the fights started. Granted you might be doing the same thing... But it doesn't make him entitled to all the belongings you've ever shared.
You've managed to find all the picture albums, the ones you decided to make for sentimental value. The ones you gifted him in tender moments. The ones filled with so much love, so much hope and promises for a future together. The ones you're now highly considering throwing into a paper shredder and tossing into the nearest incinerator. The ones you won't be able to get rid of. The anniversary album you gave him on your one year, the wedding album, the honeymoon album, the many travel albums and, of course, your daughter's first album.
Little Anya, barely 9 months old just starting to babble her first words. Chubby legs working so hard to keep her standing and exploring. She can barely take 3 steps one after the other but she's a fighter. Your little girl that is now a cause for argument, no, fights. Custody battles. The true war between yourself and your husband, Harry Styles. Neither of you want to lose or call for a tie, it's not how either of you operate in conflict. That, most likely, is the reason for the downfall of your relationship.
Frustrated you put the albums back where you found them and you head to the kitchen.
Most kitchen items have been packed up, Harry had never really invested in worthwhile cutlery or electronics of any sort. You take some orange juice from the fridge and pour a glass for yourself. The fridge itself is barren, with only the essentials left... neither of you has gone to the groceries in weeks. Today is not going to be a good day.
From the rediscovery of your love-filled albums to the boxes you've spent most of the day doing, you still have one horrible thing to do.
Couples therapy, your first-ever session. You thought, well still think, that this is too far gone to save in therapy. There won't be anything new shared that you haven't already screamed in each other's faces and self-help talks aren't exactly going to do the trick. Anne, Harry's mother, insisted that your marriage doesn't only include two people anymore. Anya makes it worth trying, she is worthy of a stable home as she grows up. No matter how unstable having a superstar parent may be, divorced parents might just add to that an unruly amount. So, you've both agreed to try. Try your very best to reassemble your love no matter how shattered it has become. Love. Love hasn't manifested itself once since about your seventh month of pregnancy. Love has vanished from your husband's once warm and inviting eyes, it no longer lingers on his fingertips and doesn't even creep into the more tender moments you must share with your baby. Love feels like a complete joke to you now.
-
The waiting room is empty of other clients which is a blessing in disguise. This is the absolute last place you'd want to run into Harries. Even if the media has already been dragging you in the mud for "breaking their dear superstar's heart" and has been making all sorts of claims about you and your marriage. In the very beginning, Harry had spoken up about these articles and had gotten his team to shut some people up but he's been losing care for... well, you.
"Harry and Y/N?" you look up meeting the eyes of who you can only assume is your therapist. Without sparring your husband a glance you get up and follow her into her office. It's cosy and smells like vanilla. There's a yellow glow to the room, it bounces off her multiple frames and decorations. Very nonthreatening, immediately putting you a little more at ease. She gestures for you to take a seat on her velvet green couch and you sit down squeezing yourself onto the left armrest. Harry does the same to the right.
"Good afternoon to you both, I am Trinity Finch. Can I get either of you something to drink before I sit down?" She smiles politely as her eyes shift between both of you. You only shake your head as an answer not trusting your stomach at the moment.
"Water if it's not too much trouble, please" Harry's voice is strained, he had been at the studio all morning probably preparing a new album you aren't aware of.
Trinity nods and quickly grabs a water bottle from a small fridge she's got right behind her desk. Harry mumbles a thank you as she hands it to him. You don't realise that his hands are shaking as you're back to looking around the room. He takes a few big gulps before your therapist gets to sit in her chair.
"Today I would just like to start with a history lesson on your relationship. How it started, all important moments, how parenthood has changed your shared life and just how you two are as a couple" She starts getting things ready around her, notebook, pens, highlighters, some sticky notes and you swear that you spotted some bright childish stickers. Her long manicured nails tap against the glass of her desk a few times as the silence stretches. Neither of you taking the first step in this session. When she looks up again she doesn't look annoyed or surprised by the lack of an answer.
"Harry, how did you meet your wife?" Trinity asks him gently.
Harry seems caught by surprise to have been asked a question directly. He looks at you briefly before turning his eyes back to her.
"Um, we meet on the plane. For some reason, my private plane for that day was not available and they booked me on a regular flight. Premium ended up being full and I got an economy seat. I had the aisle and she had the middle we ended up bonding over our shared movie choice. Then I asked her out and um here we are?" He ends with a question. As if unsure if "here" is a good thing, it's definitely not but meeting has, unfortunately, brought you both here.
"And when was this?" she asks.
"April 2018" he answers quickly. She nods presumably writing it down.
"How was your relationship before marriage Y/N?" she looks at you now with kind eyes. They are big and dark. Staring right into your soul. It makes you slightly uncomfortable but at the same time you don't want her to look away she's your lifeline right now.
"It was very easy. I work remotely as a translator and an editor, so I've always been able to tag along on his travels and tours. He, um, he always insisted that he rather have me with him even if we couldn't see each other every single day. Just knowing I was near helped him..." you sigh. You don't want to shed tears this early into your session. You don't want Harry to see you cry any more than he already has over your lost relationship.
"I really loved following him around the globe" you add, looking down at your lap willing your wet eyes to dry.
"Any fighting? How did you deal with that?" Trinity is still talking to you maybe even sensing that you're about to cry. Is that what she wants from this?
"Well, yeah. I mean all couples fight, right? We fought over the same things all the time really. I wanted more affection I guess pressuring him to take some time away from the spotlight or he wanted me all to himself whenever it worked with him without thinking of my work. Our jobs were the main reason for fighting between us" Besides you, Harry scoffs before taking another sip of water. Your head turns to him
so quickly that a sharp pain forms in the back of your neck. Your posture immediately tightens, muscles locking and your breath gets heavier.
"What? You don't agree?" you question him in a much harsher tone than you were previously using. He meets your gaze and shrugs.
"I do but that's not all we fought over" he shrugs again not looking away. Is he trying to pick a fight right now? Here of all places?
"Then what? What am I missing?" you prepare yourself for the worst. Ready to feel like absolute shit at anything he might say.
"Your constant jealousy was a contender for the most appearances in our fights" his entire expression is accusatory but he does this thing with his posture. Gets all soft and somewhat blazé making you feel inferior and so incredibly small.
You want to storm out. Call Anne to apologise that it couldn't work out and immediately sign the divorce papers that are permanently placed right on your dining table.
Not wanting to fuel this energy taking over him right now you shrug as well before facing Trinity again. She's watching both of you like a hawk, processing the way you react to conflict with each other. Making mental notes as well as some physical ones all while hostility happens between her clients.
"We'll move on from this for now. Harry, how was the wedding? How did married life change your bond?" this seemingly calms his overgrown ego. His face is neutral again but there's a softness to it now, recalling the happy days.
"We had an Italy wedding. We, I love Italy. I flew everyone out, our families and friends, and then we stayed there for a month more for our honeymoon. The wedding itself was... amazing. We kept it small. Intimate. With my life it's always been hard to have that so, it was important to us" he sounds blissful towards the last part. Probably back there now in his mind. Ah, the good old days as they say.
"I don't think married life changed us much. We were living together before that and we'd been planning it since we got together practically" he stops talking again to take another sip of water. You look at the lady in front of you again and as she begins to open her mouth to probably question him more Harry starts talking again.
"I guess tension started about a year in. The media wasn't kind to her. They made up cheating rumours on both sides and manipulated things to make them seem like something else. Someone even showed up at our old house while I was out" he took a deep breath, cracking some of his knuckles at the same time, "We were always on edge around each other. Throwing these rumours at one another just to I don't know, get a reaction? Plus, we were stuck at home because of Covid and my tour was postponed. It was a real shit show" he laughs bitterly and you nod along to what he was saying. That was just a terrible time. For everyone.
"Then I got to go on tour, Y/N didn't follow along for all of it but she was there most of the beginning. It wasn't the same as before. There was this distance that just never got better. And then she got pregnant" he almost sounds exhausted. Maybe he is, you're not sure how much he's slept lately.
-
Shit. Fuck. This can't be happening now. Shit! The word "Pregnant" seems to be mocking you as you look down at it. Mocking the fact that you and Harry have not seriously spoken in two days and that you're flying back home tomorrow. Mockingly reminding you that this can only make things worse right now.
"Y/N, come on the car is waiting downstairs" your husband's voice is weak through the thick hotel bathroom door. He's performing in Toronto tonight. The second day, the last day before he flies to New York and you go back to London.
You walk out of the bathroom, straight past Harry, not wanting him to read your face and figure out that something is terribly wrong. You slip into your shoes for the night and take a deep breath, no scratch that, a huge breath. Willing your facial expression to cooperate before you turn to him and smile.
"Let's go superstar!" he smiles back and walks over to you. Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his mouth so he can plant a kiss on the back of it.
"We just might have to cancel tonight if you look this good" his free hand wraps around you tightly glueing you to his body. You know he doesn't mean it but you pretend to consider it nonetheless.
"Mh what about all your adoring fans? Won't they be so utterly crushed?" you tease against his lips. He smiles wickedly before slowly nodding.
"I do have quite the engagement this evening... how about I make it up to you after?" he presses soft kisses to the sides of your face. Framing it.
"That's a pretty good offer, I just might have to tak-"
"HARRY STYLES GET YOUR ASS OUT OF YOUR HOTEL ROOM!!" Jeff's voice is full of annoyance as it cuts you off. Rude.
You laugh before getting pulled out of the room by your husband. The small plastic stick forgotten on the washroom counter for now.
You get a harsh reminder tho when you're back at the hotel after yet another amazing concert. You're laying on the bed completely stretched out and now only dressed in your underwear. Harry's currently using the washroom to try and get some of the remaining glitter off his face when he finds the secret you've kept all evening.
"Y/N, what's this?" his voice is so shaky that you barely even understood what he asked you. However, when you look up your brain catches up. He's in his boxers, left hand in his hair and right hand holding the test like it's made of glass as he looks at it as if it's going to explode. Fuck.
"No chance that you suddenly lost the ability to read?" you try and lighten the suddenly very heavy mood in the room. It fails.
"You're pregnant. How, I mean no I know how. Fuck, you're pregnant" he looks up at you panicked.
"We don't have to keep it" is the first thing out of your mouth. Probably as a panic response to his reaction. Not wanting this to turn into another fight.
"What?! Why wouldn't we, you don't want, I um" he takes a second. He's just breathing heavily while looking at you desperately. "You don't want to keep it?" he breathes out.
"You do?" is all you answer. You stand slowly, finding the clothes you just took off to put them back on. Whatever mood you were in is gone you're now filled with anxiety and a deep fear.
"You leave tomorrow... We won't see each other for what 3 months? In Mexico?" he hasn't moved an inch. Feet seemingly glued to the floor and limbs were frozen.
-
Pregnancy. One of the worst and best times of your life. Your gorgeous baby girl came out of all the pain you suffered. She gave a new meaning to the way you live, made you forget about all the physical pain you endured and...
"Why do you say it in that way? Like you still dread what the pregnancy brought" Trinity's voice almost startles you. You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you'd almost forgotten where you were.
"I don't! I love Anya" his voice is stern.
"What about your wife? What happened during the pregnancy?" she's digging. Wants to find the right buttons to push.
Harry stammers, but no answer seems to satisfy him. His hands are squeezed under his things, his right leg bouncing and his eyes avoiding either of you.
"We didn't plan her, I was right in the middle of my tour. We, um, we weren't doing very good and she was about to go home" he looks at you suddenly surprising you when he meets your eyes. You can't read him, can't understand what he's feeling. You haven't been able to read him in months.
"She- You, Y/N, she got really sick in February the seven-month mark. I was in Australia and I couldn't be there. It really strained us, we fought all the time over the phone and in person. I guess that's really when we went downhill" his jaw tenses when he looks away from you. Looks like he's not happy to have to have shared this with the room.
"Okay, thank you, Harry. I think now's a great time to take a breather. I'll meet both of you individually when we come back. So, see you both here in 20 minutes?" Trinity smiles at both of you and keeps smiling until you both walk out.
-
Harry doesn't come back. You wait 45 minutes in Trinity's office looking like an idiot. She dismisses you with a look of pity on her face before scheduling another appointment 5 days later, lots of work to do you assume. You rush out of the building humiliation creeping into every inch of your body. How could he do this on the first day? It was going fairly well, well you think so anyway... did he give up on your relationship right then and there?
As you make your way to your car you see him. Harry is pacing back and forth in front of his car as he seemingly argues on the phone. His free hand waves erratically in front of him, gesturing like mad for someone who can't even see him. So this is what he's been doing? Arguing over the phone while you sat in a therapist's office waiting to try and work on your ever-crumbling marriage. You scoff before turning away from him and to your car. But nothing seems to be on your side today as your husband hears you and immediately calls out to you.
"Y/N! Why are you leaving?" you hear him walk towards you, the clacking of his shoes getting closer to you but you ignore him and walk away faster.
You're completely focused on your black Subaru, the "You're so Golden" sticker catching your eye and making you more pissed off. Something that was put there because you loved the song, because of how beautiful your husband's voice is in the song but now all you want to do is rip it right off. So, that's what you do.
Your nails claw at the edges of it desperately. You don't want any reminders of Harry on your car, you don't want to think of him while putting the groceries away, while walking around the car after putting Anya in her car seat and you don't want to see it in your rearview mirror anymore. The top corner lifts as you're pulling at it giving you the perfect leverage to rip it right off. You throw it to the ground right before turning around to stare daggers into Harry's eyes.
"45 minutes, Harry. I sat there 45 minutes with our therapist looking at me like a beaten dog!" you hiss at him. He is now only about 2 or 3 feet away from you. His eyes are wide, in shock you guess, as he looks at the sticker. "What could you have possibly been doing for more than an hour that made you forget what we were here for?" you're sure you sound desperate right now. Your head is all over the place and your heart feels like it might explode out of your chest.
"An hour? I, no, that couldn't have been more than-"
"You can go back up and ask her if you want because I really really don't want to be around you right now" and now you're crying. Fuck. Why are you crying now? You need to leave.
While rummaging in your bag for your keys Harry grabs your arm. Well maybe not grabs, he just places his hand on you, resting it there delicately. If you weren't so aware of every single inch of your body right now you wouldn't have noticed. No matter how delicate the touch is supposed to be you flinch out of it aggressively.
"I'm, I'm so sorry Y/N. That was my mother, she, fuck" he sighs and runs a hand in his hair gripping it tightly. "She wants us to go up... she's rented a lake house or something I guess" his voice is so soft, shy even.
"Us? You mean you and Anya?" god you hope so.
"I'm so sorry" is all he answers.
-
Anne Twist is a very difficult woman to say no to. Actually, it's impossible to say no to her. In the many years you've known her, she's always been able to find a way to make you say yes. Always in a good way. She loves you, she has told you that countless times, and you love her but now that you're... the way you are with her son you don't know where you stand. Yet, she has still found a way to get you to agree to something you would have much rather not have gone to. You're in a small townhouse almost 4 hours away from your home in London with your mother-in-law, your daughter and your soon-to-be ex-husband. What has your life come to?
Anya is sitting in her high chair passionately eating banana slices as you watch her. She's already gobbled up the strawberries and pita bread slices she also had for her snack. She's such a good eater always so ready to try new things and taste whatever the adults around her eat. Especially the sweet treats her dad sneaks her.
"Do you want to go take a dip after huh? We should enjoy the water my love" you coo at her as she takes her final bite of food. She smiles at you like she understood what you asked and you chuckle wiping her chubby cheeks and hands. She'll be able to float around in the water for a little bit with you before you put her down for a nap. The steps of your morning are perfectly planned so that you can have your solo Zoom session with Trinity.
There is a small river behind the house you're staying in. The water goes up to just above your breast and it's the perfect warmth at this time of day. You've made your way down to it and are now setting up Anya's towel for when she'll be too tired to entertain you and ready for her mid-day snooze. She's currently lying right by you looking up at the sky with such curiosity, probably trying to figure out what the hell clouds are.
"You're so curious my love!" you shake her gently as you smile widely. "What do you see up there?" as you look up to join her sky-gazing you spot Harry making his way to the river as well. He's only got very short grey swimming trunks on meaning his entire chest, thighs, calves, and arms are out for the whole world to see. Maybe that's an exaggerated statement as you're the only one looking right now. You want to scold yourself for staring, you really really do but he's just so... so captivating and very enjoyable to look at no matter how much you resent him at the moment.
"Mind if I join you ladies?" his voice is more cheerful than when you heard it last. Must be because he's actually speaking to and looking at Anya.
However, when you don't answer his question he looks up at you. Expression now closed off again, how it's always been for the past few months. You smile politely and nod before turning your back to both of them so you can take your robe off. Your swimsuit isn't anything special; simple black one-piece that's high on the hips and low on your back. You think it looks pretty good on you but now you feel very aware of the amount of skin you're showing. You decide to just get in the water hoping its dark colour hides you. Hides away the skin your husband might be looking at.
"Looks like mummy is in a hurry, we should join her. What do you think sweetheart?" Harry picks your baby up and makes his way into the water. He holds her tightly to his chest as he climbs in, just in case he slips on the stones he uses as stairs. Once your daughter's chubby limbs meet the water her mouth forms into an adorable "O" shape. It's the second time Anya's been in the water now so she must still be unsure about this feeling. Harry turns her so that her front faces you and her back is against him. She smiles when she spots you reaching her arms out quickly which splashes some water around. She looks at you with a shocked expression and does it again with a giggle now.
"You little troublemaker! Trying to splash me!" you tease her sending some water her way. She answers with a sweet giggle and shakes her arms around as fast as she possibly can.
"Mh, my jokester gene is strong in her" Harry's voice is laced with pride. You playfully roll your eyes at him and hum affirmatively.
"And her love for singing too" you add remembering so many moments where she hums to any song playing. Her favourite thing to do is to harmonise with her father. His deep voice always gets her attention, always gets her to mumble and hum along with her own lyrics.
"Oh yes, she's the next big thing this one" he affirms kissing the top of her small head affectionately.
It's in moments like these that you tend to forget how bad it is between you. How many horrible things you've shouted at each other not caring how deep your words could cut. The accusations, the insults, the taunts and even the lies still weigh heavy on both of you. You like these softer moments, where you're reminded of how much love you both had for each other. Have? Had? You don't know anything about your feelings anymore, they are much too complicated to understand...
All three of you stay in the river for about an hour more before Anya starts yawning and fussing. When you exit the water you're quick to slip your robe back on still overly aware. Harry wraps the fluffy towel you had gotten ready around your baby. Her head rests in the crook of his neck, her eyelids already heavy as she blinks slowly. You all walk back to the house together silently. Might it be to keep the sleepy baby calm or to keep the peaceful aura around you and your husband, you don't know.
Harry insists that he will put the sleepy girl to bed and that you should take a shower first. After all, you have the first private sessions with your therapist. The mention of her does make the air in the townhouse tense again but Anne appears immediately to kiss Anya before she naps. You use that moment to sneak into your shared room with Harry. Luckily, it has two single beds so you don't have to share with him.
Signing deeply you rid yourself of the now damp robe you had on. Another blessing in disguise, this room has an en suite bathroom so you'll be able to jump right into the shower. Before that you do want to set up your laptop for the video call, you want to be as ready as you possibly can be. You grab your device from your backpack and make your way to the small desk in the corner of the room. There's a bunch of papers scattered around it, one glance at them and you immediately know what they are.
Lyrics. Drafts of songs and melodies written by your rockstar husband. You don't mean to read any of the words you really don't but as soon as you spot your name at the top of one of the pages you're doomed. You put your laptop down on Harry's bed which is right next to the desk and reach for that exact paper.
The words you read are full of longing, pain, sadness and fear. They mourn love, they are mourning your love. You pick up another sheet of paper, this one has no title but there are so many lines written. This one is reeks of self-hatred, of shame and guilt... it shakes the weak barriers you've built around your heart. All of the lyrics you read on different papers revolve around the same emotions. These are all about your relationship. About the death of it. About his desire to turn around. You don't realise you're crying until a tear falls onto the paper you hold. The ink bleeds into itself where it's been wet blurring the words slightly. You quickly wipe your face and put the papers down. You shouldn't be looking at these, you're invading his privacy.
"Thought you were showering" Harry's voice startles you out of the chair. You meet the floor with a loud thud. Your tear-filled eyes meet his sharp ones. Scrambling up to your feet you grab your laptop ready to explain, ready to apologise over and over again.
"At least tell me what you think" he sighs walking into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. This shocks you. What does he mean? He, he's not mad? Isn't disappointed that you invaded his creative space? Your mouth opens and closes a few times unsure what you should answer.
"I'm sorry" is all you're able to get out. Your brain is blank in absolute fear but tears keep falling from your eyes.
"I should be apologising... you, you weren't supposed to see those" he walks in your direction slowly, testing the waters of how close you'll let him get. He's closer than arm's reach when you flinch backwards slightly and he stops immediately.
"I was going to ask you for your permission before making any of those full songs but you know music is how I cope" he whispers now that he's so close to you. Silence takes over the room again, stretching out for too long. Your eyes somehow keep producing tears as you try and speak. Hopelessly searching for words to say.
"Do you really miss us? You miss me?" is what you come up with, your voice is so shaky that you're on the verge of sobbing uncontrollably.
This shocks Harry in place, seemingly not prepared for that kind of questioning from you. His mouth gapes and his eyes grow wide. This time you do see his hands start shaking. You're not entirely sure what this emotion is.
"Of course I do. Did you not think so?" while still whispering he reaches out to hold you but stops himself hands falling at his sides.
"Yo- Harry, you asked for the divorce. How was I supposed to know you miss me?" your voice breaks. You don't understand, why is this happening now, why is he saying these things?
-
"We should just get a divorce" Harry snaps at you as he fights back tears. Your expression immediately closes up, your body reacting before your thoughts and words do. Protecting you from what he just said, building walls around you and your heart as quickly as possible.
"Fine" you spit out as you turn away from him and walk straight out of your bedroom. If that's what he wants then so be it. You won't beg for anything now that he's made his decision.
-
"I know, okay? I know that I asked for it and that it's the reason why you don't talk to me anymore. Well, you do but not really" he sighs and sits down on his bed, damn swim trunks wetting the bed "We talk about Anya and when we're not we are yelling at each other... so when was I supposed to tell you that I missed you? That I regretted asking for the divorce..." he looks at you with a guilty expression, all his emotions are coming up at once.
"Why did you ask for it?" you ask him sitting back on the desk chair with your laptop still in your hands.
"I got in my head. You were saying we should take some time for ourselves maybe live apart... with everything that kept being said about us, I got so scared" he takes your laptop out of your grip and puts it down next to him.
"I thought you were going to fight me on it..." he adds as he grabs your hands tenderly. Like he's afraid you'll break.
You shake your head in disbelief not sure what to say. Your thoughts are all over the place, what should you make of this?
"It broke my heart" When did his face get so close to yours? You should really move away. You can't fall back into him, you can't let yourself do that. So you pull away from him roughly, your hands tugging out of his hold, face moving to the side, a sob making its way out of you as your back meets the chair-back.
When you meet Harry's eyes you can see the pain, the hurt, in them. They are brimming with tears that are so close to spilling out.
"Are we... are we too broken?" his voice has dropped to a whisper. He sounds so sad and scared.
"I'm worried" You take in a few breaths before you speak again, "What if we just end up hurting each other again? What if we can't go back?" you choke out the last few words. Tears spill endlessly out of your eyes and sobs rack your entire body.
It feels like you're running out of air and the little bits you get in are painful. Your eyes burn as you cry and your hands are shaking like crazy.
Harry might be answering or trying to communicate but nothing is making its way past your meltdown. What does make it through is the feeling of his arms around you. Him pulling you against his chest tightly, immediately rubbing your back as soothingly as he can. Your hands are grabbing his still bare skin desperately, wanting to anchor yourself in any way you can. Your face rests on his peck, right above his heart, the frantic beating bouncing around your head.
"Breathe, you have to breathe love" he speaks delicately in your ear, breaking through the barrier your body has put up.
"I'm- I'm, I can't... Harry I can't" your clawing at him almost trying to get under his skin, someplace you might be able to understand everything that's going through his mind.
He wiggles around a little before laying you both down as he keeps reassuring and encouraging you. He drags you on top of him your face now pressed up against the juncture of his neck. Your left-hand makes its way into his hair, pulling at it as softly as you can manage. Harry's hands run up and down your back, your arms, and your neck and he even pets your hair delicately. He's always known how to best calm you down... how to bring you back down to earth and out of the panic attacks you sometimes get when you're overwhelmed.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" he repeats that over and over with a pained desperation. Harry's scared shitless too. He doesn't know how things will go with your relationship. He can't guarantee that you won't end up actually wanting a divorce one day... But he can love you. He has and will keep loving you. He hopes it'll be enough to save your marriage. He'll work incredibly hard every single day to prove his love for you... if you let him back in he won't ever let you go. He'll leave it all up to you. Your little family is all he needs, he'll spend the rest of his life proving that to you if that's what it takes.
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bunnylovesani · 6 months
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You Belong To Me
Summary: You find out about your husband Spencer’s affair with another woman. It's safe to say you don’t have the reaction either of them were expecting.
Content warnings: infidelity, voyeurism, facetime sex, humiliation, p in v sex, creampie
WC: 2.3k
“Who is she?” You shudder with disgust as you stare into the sunken eyes of your husband. He looked almost unrecognisable to you now that you’d learned of his betrayal. 
“Her name’s Maeve. She’s a geneticist who’s been helping me with those headaches.” He sighs resolutely, knowing there was no point attempting to hide this from you. He didn’t mean to let things escalate but you’d been going through a rough patch and Maeve was just so understanding- she embodied all the things you lacked.
“Did you fuck her?” Your voice trembled with anger, goosebumps piercing through your thin blouse as you braced yourself for his response. 
“No. It was a purely emotional affair.” He stated a little too coldly. 
“Ah. And I suppose that makes it alright, does it?” You scoffed, getting up from the sofa you were curled up on with Spencer mere minutes earlier before he came out with his crushing confession. 
“Of course not. There are no excuses.” He looked down, not daring to meet your appalled gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” 
“Spencer Reid speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.” You chuckle darkly, fidgeting with your wedding band. You loved him with all your heart, the day you said your vows was the happiest of your life- now that he’d broken his, you weren’t sure how much any of it really meant. 
“Were you going to leave me for her?” Against your best efforts, your voice broke with a pitiful crack that left Spencer with a pained expression on his handsome face. 
“No! No, I promise. I would never leave you.” He interjected, leaving no room for doubt. “She was just a distraction. You’re it for me.”
You sunk back into the plushy couch with a defeated sigh, unwelcome tears pricking your glossy eyes. 
“I don’t know, Spence…” You sniffled, beginning to slide the ring off your finger. 
“Baby.” He took your hands into his own as he dropped to his knees before you, still in his work suit. “I messed up. I messed up in the worst way possible. I’m a fucking idiot. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, my love. I’ll do anything.” 
An unfamiliar desperation tinged his voice that made your gut twist into an iron knot. He looked pathetic right now; kneeling on the floor with furrowed eyebrows as he pleaded to save his marriage. 
“I want you to call her.” You exhaled sharply after an excruciating moment of contemplation.
“You- what?” His forehead wrinkles deepened with shock. 
“You heard me. Call the bitch.” He gulped at your request and his eyes darted around frantically as he analysed every possible outcome.
“A video call. I want to see what the little homewrecker looks like.” You spat as he remained motionless, mouth agape and eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather get a divorce?” 
“I’ll do it.” He shook his head clumsily, rattled by the whole ordeal. 
“Wonderful. Come sit next to me and prop your phone up on the table.” You patted the spot besides you as Spencer stumbled over, still confused by your unpredictability. 
“Well? What are you waiting for? Start dialling.” You snapped snarkily as he scrolled through his phone with shaky hands. Locating her contact, his fingers hovered above the call button. 
“Dr. Donovan, huh?” You peered over. “The one you told me had been helping you with a case?” 
“Y-yeah.” He whispered ashamedly. 
“Now this I have to see.” You murmured bitterly as the line began to ring. 
“Spence, hi! Wasn’t expecting you to call at this time.” The bubbly voice of the other woman rang out through his speakers. Your eyes zeroed in on the pixelated image of a brunette woman with a choppy fringe. 
“Why, do you guys have a set time for your little calls? When I’m sleeping, perhaps?” You popped into the frame, grinning wildly. 
“Oh. H-hello. Spencer, what’s going on?” She looked to him for help but he just sat there resignedly, knowing he couldn't appease you both. 
“So you’re the one who’s been helping herself to my husband.” You chuckled disingenously. “I thought you’d be a lot prettier.” You neared the phone to get a better look. “Really, baby? Her?” 
Spencer looked away, not daring to say a word to his wife or his lover.
“And you? You don’t have anything to say?” You opened the floor to Maeve.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks reddened as she stuttered, her nauseating voice ricocheting off the walls and worming its way into your ears. 
“That’s okay. I don’t need you to talk. Just watch.” You hissed in such a searing way that it made her feel threatened and inclined to obey. 
Spencer looked up at you in confusion but his doubts were swiftly answered when you loosened his tie and ripped off his collared shirt with a murderous lust. 
“Baby, what-“
“You’re not going to say a word.” You smoothly replied, voice barely audible. 
You observed his sad eyes, entrenched with light crows feet that worsened with the weight of stress and regret. You weren’t sure how you were even going to begin to process his betrayal but right now, you had to take care of her first. What better way to drive home the point that he was yours than to show her? 
Unbuckling his heavy leather belt with an urgency you’d never felt, you glanced over to make sure Maeve was watching. Sure enough, the demure woman couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight unfolding before her. 
As you pulled down his pleated black trousers, you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your skirt, throwing the articles of clothing behind you in a rushed hurl. Trailing your fingers down his boxers with your engagement ring flashing in front of the camera, you settled on his waistband. 
“Now, Spence. You’re going to fuck me in front of her.” 
His breath hitched as the unholy words left your smirking mouth. 
“And you-” You turned to face Maeve, who’s hand engulfed her mouth in panic. “You are going to watch it all.“
“No! You’re insane-“
“Or I’ll tell everyone at your work that you’re a home wrecking whore.” You dropped the threat like a hammer and it instantly silenced her.
“That’s what I thought.” 
A twisted grin consumed your face as you looked back at Spencer, who licked his lips at the sight before him- his wife eagerly spread open on the couch, waiting to be filled up. You weren’t sure whether it was an anxious tick or a sign of arousal and frankly, you didn’t care. 
“Show me how sorry you are.” You breathed heavily as you hooked your black lace panties and pulled them to the side.
Needing no further initiative, Spencer lowered his boxers and let his heavy cock spring free from its confines. Despite sex being the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t help the natural reaction his body had to you- it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen it in the last 5 years of your marriage, the sight of you split open for him was always enough to bring him crumbling to his knees. 
Shuffling closer, he let a long string of spit dribble down to your pussy before smearing it around with his painfully swollen tip. He was in a state of delirium and shock as his body moved as though it weren't his own- whatever the consequences, he knew he couldn't lose you.
“You see that, Maeve?” You cocked your head to the side. “That’s all mine.” 
You moaned shakily as he pushed himself in, coating his shaft in your wetness. 
“Isn’t that right, baby? Tell her.” You ordered your husband as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pushing against it to go even deeper. 
“That’s right.” He groaned as he plunged his cock in as deep as it could go, his skin flush against yours. 
“Who do you belong to?” You gazed up at him, running your fingers through his messy curls. 
“You, baby. I belong to you.” He whispers before turning to face the camera. “I belong to her. She owns me.” 
Maeve let out a short huff of disbelief, wanting to look away but struggling. 
“Harder.” You choked out a whisper as your body trembled under his touch, longing for more, aching to possess and to be possessed. 
His thrusts sped up in response, his hips smacking against yours fervently as you clawed at his back like a wounded animal. 
“I’m sorry, baby.” He whined as he took you by the face with both hands, forcing you to look clearly at him. “I’m so sorry.” 
“Keep going.” You whispered frantically- the feeling of being perfectly stuffed paired with your volatile emotional state left you teetering on the edge of collapse. 
“She means nothing to me.” He grunted between thrusts and you bore a wide toothy grin at the capriciously sweet words. Real or not, you knew they had to hurt her- and that brought you a sadistic amount of pleasure. 
“What were you thinking going for her?” You tutted as he pounded into you like it was the last time, creamy arousal glistening in the dimly lit lounge. “I’m so much better than her. She’s so ugly. Isn’t she, Spence?” 
“Y-yes.” He whimpered. “She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.” 
Satisfied enough with his taunting, you pushed him back with a bitter hand against his chest and climbed onto his lap with increasing desperation. 
“Bet you wish you could ride him like this, don’t you?” You sneered as you stroked his wet cock with a couple squelchy pumps. “But you never will. This dick is all mine.” 
You lowered yourself onto him, adjusting to his size with breathy moans as he threw his head back in deluge. Bouncing on it with more force than usual, you looked back to observe Maeve’s horrified face glowing on the screen. 
“You got that, bitch?” You jeered mockingly as you reached for his phone and flipped the camera to show Spencer’s exasperated face. “My husband, my dick.” 
With your final act of aggression, you hung up the call and threw the phone behind you. You were fairly confident she wouldn’t be inserting herself into your marriage again any time soon. 
“What the hell-” Spencer’s croaky voice rang out in intervals as you continued riding him with stomach-churning speed. “was that?”
“I was reminding you who you’re married to.” You halted for a moment to catch your breath. “You seem to have forgotten.”
His firm, calloused hands snaked their way around your hips as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, bringing you closer to him. 
“I'll never make that mistake again.” He declared solemnly, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. “Do you forgive me, my love?”
Your limbs went numb and you felt paralysed at the thought. How could you ever forgive such an abuse of trust? 
Spencer firmly grabbed you by the jaw before trailing his hand to the nape of your neck. You wanted to wriggle out of his grasp but he guided your head to rest over his shoulder as he settled his touch on the small of your back. 
“I don’t know…” You slumped into him, feeling immobilised as you murmured mindlessly. 
He suddenly grabbed your ass and roughly spread it apart to allow easier access to your core- he thrust up into your weeping pussy with a force that had you huffing out wordless squeaks. He set a ruthless tempo, hammering into you as your gushing arousal dripped down his thighs. 
“If I’m going to let that little stunt you just pulled slide-“ He growled with a renewed ferocity. “then you’re going to suck it up and forgive me too.” 
Whining, you smacked the side of his bicep in protest but the way he was fucking your brains out left you unable to speak. 
“I don’t wanna hear it baby.” He kissed your temple sloppily as he patted your hair, smoothing it down while he massaged your insides. “You’re meant for me and I’m meant for you. We’re perfectly fucked up for each other.”
“Mmph-“ You moaned into his shoulder, drool dribbling down his skin as you bit into it. 
“I’m never letting you go.” He sped up as his force and aggression grew, leaving bruises in the shape of fingertips littered along your hips and ass. 
With one final thrust, you came undone - squeezing his cock so tight in the process that he couldn’t help but fill you up to the brim with his cum. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, creamy wetness pouring out of you as he pulled your sweaty bodies apart. 
“Okay.” You sighed. “I forgive you.” 
Spencer abruptly sat up as the precious words spilled from your swollen lips. “You mean it?” He trembled hopefully, melting expression tugging at your heartstrings. 
“Only if you swear to me it’ll never happen again.” You wagged your finger at him as he leapt onto you unexpectedly.
“Never! Never, baby, I swear.” He planted grateful kisses up and down your body as you indulged in a reluctant smile. “It’s only you. You are the only one for me. Now and for the rest of my life.” 
You could tell by his adoring gaze that he meant every word. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled into a healing embrace. He was allowed to make one mistake, you loved him enough to let it slide. And if resentment ever crept up on you, you could always fondly recall that drunken night with Agent Morgan. Who said married couples weren’t allowed a few secrets?
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justlemmeadoreyou · 7 months
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Hopelessly Devoted to You
In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: Mentions of an abusive marriage, domestic violence and abuse, crying.
This one is going to be angsty, with two lovesick morons who are too scared to admit their feelings for each other. There are going to be mentions of abuse, so read at your own risk.
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Dropping Ellie to school, she thinks this is her happy place. With her kid, talking about how she finds elephants interesting, how she loves eggos, and the girl who sits next to her bites her nails all the time.
She's smiling on the car seat all the way to the school, contrary to how she is at home.
She tries her best to shield her away from her god-awful marriage, but sometimes, it's too damn difficult.
Like last night, when as soon as Elliot was home, she had sent her to her room, which she had gotten soundproofed with the money she had saved for months. She had told her to lock the door tightly, because Daddy had come home.
As soon as he entered, she realized he was drunk.
That was just how he came home nowadays, drunk off his ass, not even understanding his surroundings. She wondered how he even managed to make his way back home.
He stumbled from the doorway, having struggled with his keys for over 5 minutes. She was already sweating by now, hands clammy and her heartbeat rising.
"The fuck, fucking-" he cursed as soon as he was in, throwing his shoes and socks away. He threw his bag away too, and stumbled till he reached the dining table, glaring up at Y/n.
She didn't say anything to him. Knowing he would get angry if she did.
"Give me water" he ordered, and she got one glass, holding it under the tap, filling it up with water. She turned it off, turning around, and giving it to him.
He drank it in one go, some of it falling on his shirt. Messily wiping his mouth, he threw the glass away, and she was startled.
"Where's my food?"
She went back into the kitchen, taking the plate she had already taken out for him, and placing it in front of him.
"What the fuck? How many times do I have to tell you, I don't like meatballs? Are you that fucking dumb that you can't understand?"
That's when he threw the plate away, and a couple utensils too, which were lying on the dining table.
She knew Ellie would've heard it, and she quickly took a few steps back, preparing herself to turn around and run away, in case he pranced at her.
And that, he did. Thankfully, she knew just how to run from him, so he wouldn't catch up to her, and locked herself in the room with Ellie.
He was banging at the door, screaming curses at her. Calling her everything she had hoped she would never have to hear again.
With Ellie crying in her mum's arms, with continuous banging on the door, that threatened to break it, she knew she wanted it to end.
She knew she wanted a divorce.
.       .       .
"I'll pay for the lawyer if you want. Money is no issue for me, you know that, Y/n" he said, genuinely wanting to help her out of this marriage. He wants the best for her, for her to be happy again. Whenever he looks at her, his heart beats faster.
He still doesn't understand why she still wears the wedding ring he gave her. She's moved on from him, but still carries pieces of him with her. Given, most of them are tears and hurt marks, and looking at them makes his heart cry. And the purple bruise on her neck makes him want to kill Elliot. Piece by piece. Break him, beat him up, to make up for all the times he did the same to Y/n.
Her hand is just inches away from his, resting softly on the armrest. His finger twitches, and he wants her to hold his hand, to tell her that she will be alright. But she won't.
And he can't.
She lifted her gaze, looking into his kind eyes. He was good...and sometimes, it felt as if he was too good to be real.
"Oh" she replied. It was the only way out for her, because getting money from her parents was a lost cause. Her friends couldn't help her too, because she was too deep in this shit to be pulled out easily.
"Think about it. Sleep over it too, maybe? You can tell me tomorrow, or the day after it. I'll be waiting" he says, and "for you, right here" remain lodged in his throat.
"Thank-thank you, Mr. Styles, I-You're so kind to me, to Ellie-" her voice breaks, and he knows she will cry if he doesn't stop her. "Everything you've done-"
"It's my job, Y/n. It's what I do for everyone. Some need less help, and some need more. It's no big deal" he reassures her, and she nods.
"But still, thank you so, so much. I'll-I'll forever be grateful to you for this" she smiles, and he smiles back. His dimples are on show, on soft, squishy cheeks, that she wants to caress, to hold, to place a soft kiss on.
"So, you can-you can call me when you've thought over it, and I'll get the paperwork started." he straightens his suit, and she clears her throat. "Yeah-yeah, I'll call you, Mr. Styles"
"You can call me Harry. Here's my card"
She smiles, taking the business card from him, and keeping it in the back of her phone cover. In case Elliot checks her bag, he's too dumb to look in her phone cover.
He smiles at her, despite knowing why she did it, and it breaks his heart even more.
. . .
Harry was a good person. She had met him at a summer camp she had taken Ellie to, where he had bought his niece, Evie. They were 4, and Ellie got super excited when she found out that their names began with "E". As soon as they met, they hit it off, holding each other's hand, and running away from Harry and Y/n.
"I'm sorry-she-she gets super excited sometimes, she doesn't listen" Y/n apologized, and that was the first time he looked at her. Into her pretty, pretty eyes, that made him seem dull.
"Oh-no, don't apologize, it's all right. She doesn't have kids of her age near her parents' home, so I took her here so she could have some fun"
"So-she's not your kid?" she asked, her hands fidgeting in front of her.
"No-she's my niece. My sister's daughter. I'm Harry" he said, offering her hand to her for a handshake.
She took it, smiling. 
“I’m Y/n” 
He seemed nice, bringing her niece for a weekend long camp. He seemed like the cool and care free uncle every kid wanted, who would let them do anything. As she looked into his eyes, an emerald shade with the brightest shine, she had no idea this stranger would be a lifesaver for her one day.
“So, you from around here?” he asked, taking his hand back. The handshake had lasted for much longer than they both intended, and to his surprise, his hand was all wet when he pulled back.
Y/n lowered her head, mentally cursing herself for being so weird.
“I’m sorry, Harry-I-sometimes get super nervous around new people, and my hands-they get all sweaty. I’m sorry”
“No, no, it’s alright. No need to apologize.” he wiped his hand on his beige pants, and she still felt bad for the faint spot that developed on which looked like custom tailored pants. 
She turned, getting hold of her purse, and opening the chain. She fished out a fresh handkerchief, which she had kept for Ellie, because she always eats messily, getting crumbs all over her face and clothes. But Y/n adores it, and she smiles everytime she cutely says, “Mumma, hanky” with a bright smile, so proud of herself for that.
“Here-take this,” she offered him her napkin, a white one with pink flowers laced on it.
He will to keep it forever, he thinks.
And that he did, too. The same handkerchief, unused by him because he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would make the softness, and the smell of her perfume laced in it, go away. It sits in his cupboard, in one of the two lockers that he has. 
“Thank you” he takes it, stuffing it in his pocket.
They go for a walk after that, looking at all the camp-activities that were in the brochure. The swings, the activities, the areas allocated for different sports, with so many children running around with sports equipment.
“I think she really needed it, you know. She worked hard throughout the year, doing all her assignments and homework on time. She also did her science project all by herself, without even any help from me and Elliot. Can you believe that?”
She looked so, so pretty, talking proudly about her daughter.
“And Elliot is-?”
“My husband, yeah”
Harry thinks she would be proud, or happy, at least, while telling him that she has a husband. But she doesn’t, and she hopes he doesn’t notice the small frown that creeps up her face, her smile fading with just the mention of his name.
Unfortunately, he does.
.         .        .
Throughout the day, they spend time together. Sitting on the swings, talking bout their pasts and smiling and giggling, like a couple of teenagers in love. But, they’re far from that.
Y/n thinks she hasn’t been so happy in a while. She hasn’t laughed this much in a while too, nor had a normal conversation with an adult.
So, when Ellie told her there was going to be a week long summer camp, she made sure she was the one to go with he. She just wanted to step out of the house, and meet some new people, have normal conversations, unlike the screaming and arguing she endured almost everyday.
And Harry…well, he’s Harry. His heart skips a beat every time she smiles, so carefree and beautiful. The way her face glows in the sun, and the tiny crinkles that form when she squints them to see him in the sunlight. Her hair, that flows freely in the warm air, and the biggest smile on her face as she tries to tie them up, but they just keep slipping out of her grasp.
He can't help but be captivated by her presence, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity he can't quite explain. Her smile seems to light up the entire landscape, and he finds himself enchanted by the way she effortlessly radiates joy. Even though, she had been quite opposite of that for a while. He feels a warmth spread through him whenever she looks his way, a feeling he can't quite put into words but cherishes nonetheless. 
Yeah, he’s in love with her.
(next part)
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! i might consider a part 2, because this was sitting in my drafts and i know this isn't soo good!
taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld  @chesthairrry  @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs  @hisparentsgallerryy  @storyschanging  @selluequestrian  @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown
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victimsofyaoipoll · 11 months
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Finals
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Propaganda Under Cut
Sakura Haruno
Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.
My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 
What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.
Misa Amane
she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.
she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!
Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime
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creedslove · 1 year
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WHO KNEW? 💍💔
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No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
"You took my hand, you showed me how
You promised me you'd be around (...)
I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me (...)
If someone said three years from now, you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out, 'cause they're all wrong
I know better, 'cause you said forever, and ever, who knew?"
Summary: You and Joel had been married for a few months when he broke things up with you because he'd fallen in love with someone else, Sarah's mom. You parted ways but more than a decade later you end up meeting Sarah and that leads you to face your ex-husband one more time
• Inspired by this amazing HEADCANON request ❤️
Warnings: angst, broken hearts, asshole!Joel, divorce, infidelity, pregnancy, fluff (a little, maybe?) age gap (Joel is four to five years older than reader and the time skip is 12 to 14 years (Sarah's age) but feel free to imagine whatever you want)
A/N: Hi guys!!! I got obsessed with this story ever since I received that ask and turned into a headcanon but it wasn't enough, I had to write a longer, fuller version of this story! I think it's so appealing because we are all used to Joel being our knight in shining armor, always the perfect husband/boyfriend and well, here we can see another part of him. It's not a crime to fall in love with someone else, but the way he broke reader's heart was very mean. Also, I didn't specify reader's profession, just keep in mind she studied A LOT and now she makes good money, but feel free to idealize her job the way you want. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, besties ❤️
10.6k words
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You never really understood why some people told you getting married so young would be a mistake. It didn't make sense to you, at all. You and your soon-to-be husband Joel, were young, yes, but you loved each other deeply. You figured it didn't take much more than that to make a happy marriage.
You were fresh from highschool, always had good grades and it didn't take long for you to be accepted in many different institutions, and yet, you decided it would be a good idea to take a sabbatical year in order to get yourself sorted out, maybe get a job and save up some money and enjoy your marriage a little. Joel was very supportive of you, even if he knew you would eventually leave for college and you would both have to make it work long distance.
Joel was just a couple of years older, he'd just left the military and he also needed to know what to do in life, in order to support his wife, he didn't have the book smarts his girl did, but he was kind-hearted and hard-working. He also hadn't planned on getting married that young, but before he could even try to make any sense out of it, he was deeply in love with you.
So Joel proposed, you said yes, his dad helped him get a small, but cute house and the two of you started your new wed life.
For the first few months, everything was a bed of roses; you were so in love, that man was simply intoxicating. His touches, his kisses, his body, his smell, everything about him was addictive to you and you couldn't be without it.
You had found yourself a part time job as a sales clerk at a baby clothes store at the mall, just as Joel was working as an apprentice in the construction business, it was a very hard job, and just in a matter of a couple of months, you saw your boyfriend becoming bigger and more muscular. He worked hard for you, for your relationship, your marriage and the future family you would build in a couple of years. Even if your friends had told you it was madness getting married so young and your family had asked you not to do it, everything was just fine, what could go wrong?
Every single day, Joel would come back home, tired from work, and he would be welcomed by you in your fullest housewife version. Dinner all ready, house spotless clean and a loving wife dying to be in his arms. He would not disappoint you, taking you into his arms, lifting you up, pressing you against the wall, his kisses were so urgent, so needy of you, his hands roamed all over your body as you felt his cock throbbing. Every night next to your handsome husband Joel was a delight, it was your personal piece of heaven, nothing could stop the two of you when you were together, but eventually, it happened.
You didn't know exactly how it started, or when for that matter, it was all a thick fog in your mind, being unable to say precisely when your marriage began falling apart. Perhaps it happened sooner than you thought but you were just too naive or too blind to see; first thing you noticed, were the kisses; they were gone. No kissing before going to work in the morning but you shrugged it off, thinking that maybe Joel was just in a rush to get to work. Though you really missed them, your skin seemed to burn and ache for his touch, you didn't want to seem like a clingy wife, or nag him with unimportant things. Whenever he came back from work, he was still all yours; that's why it took you long enough to notice it.
Every evening, he came back with the same hunger he felt, only this time, he didn't seem to have felt that hunger for you per se, more like a desire within that needed to have you to help him relieve it.
He took you every single night, he gave you pleasure, simple, raw, indifferent pleasure. You didn't actually remember the last time you actually made love, because everytime Joel touched you, he always had you on your hands and knees for him, always fucking you on your back. At the time you thought it was just some kink or something like that, but now it was pretty clear to you it was just the easiest way for Joel to close his eyes and pretend you were someone else.
It was just simply fucking, a means to get to an end.
Then, he began getting home later and later, sometimes he would be too late for dinner, or he would just skip it entirely. Never explaining exactly what he was doing or why he was spending less and less time at home.
"Sorry babe, just had a sandwich with the guys"
That's what he would say before shrugging and going straight to the bedroom; not taking his time to actually see you'd cooked his favorite or that you were starving because you'd waited for him until that hour. The weekends weren't different at all, at first, right after you two got married, you'd spend the entire day in bed, just enjoying each other's company, each other's bodies and love; caresses full of affection carried with lust, turned into nothing more than just a memory some months later. Every weekend Joel simply got up, had breakfast and told you he was heading for work; and he would spend the entire day there, no phone calls to let you know he wouldn't be back for lunch nor calls to tell you he would grab a few drinks with the guys.
Always the guys, and as much as you tried to convince yourself it was indeed just one drink, or a burger, or a soccer match with the guys, your heart was sending you signals, trying to warn you there was something seriously wrong. Yet, you chose not to believe it, you told yourself it was actually kind of cruel of you to have such thoughts about your poor hard-working husband. What kind of wife would you be if you became paranoid while Joel was just working hard to provide you a good life?!
Joel was so busy with his work he barely even noticed when you asked for a double shift on Saturdays. Not that you liked working at the mall, but if you were going to stay alone all the time, you figured you would at least earn some money. Maybe Joel was just stressed about having to put up with the bills all by himself, you reminded yourself. Perhaps things would be back at what they were in the beginning, you were now marking six months of marriage and you knew this wasn't supposed to be happening. Your husband wasn't supposed to be that uninterested in you, he wasn't supposed to be indifferent towards your presence or so ungrateful, and yet you decided to fight for his love, after all, you loved him more than anything, more than anyone, it was an overwhelming feeling but you simply couldn't move on from it.
You waited for Joel another night, you'd made dinner, but of course he said he wasn't very hungry because he had grabbed a bite to eat with the guys.
Your heart clenched, he didn't kiss you, nor held you, it was like you were two different people sharing the same house; not lovers, not husband and wife, perhaps not even friends anymore. It felt each time more and more empty next to Joel, but you tried. You sat down and had dinner on your own, as he glued himself to the TV, watching whatever it was on. You knew him enough to know his mind was drifting away, thinking of something or someone, you weren't sure, the only thing you were a hundred percent sure was that he did everything at his willpower so he wouldn't have to spend time with you. It hurt, like a knife piercing through your chest, it was humiliating and you still didn't know why you were insisting. You swallowed after dinner and walked to the couch, he was nearly asleep and you ran your hands through his hair, feeling how soft his curls were; you had missed dearly times like that, it had been only a few months prior and yet, it felt like an eternity. The way your Joel would come to you, crave your touch, and just overall pay attention to you, unlike the haunting reality that you had to face, in which your husband simply began to ignore you, as if you weren't much more than a shadow, or an invisible and yet quite annoying presence. You looked down at his sleepy and peaceful form, he always looked so young and innocent when he slept it always warmed your heart.
The tip of your fingers ran through his scalp once more, he had always loved that particular display of affection. Minutes passed while you stroked his hair, you could feel Joel shifting softly under your touch, satisfied groans coming out like purrs as he began to slowly open his eyes
"Angela.." he murmured under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to catch it.
At that moment you felt as if you'd lost all balance, gripping the couch and staring at him in disbelief
"Who's Angela?" Your voice suddenly loud and serious, making Joel snap away from the sleeping haze he was in and stare into your eyes. He was carefully not to give it away immediately
"What are you talking about?" He got up from the couch, determined to turn his back to you
"You said a name. Angela, who's she?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Y/N, stop being crazy"
Your blood boiled at the accusation.
For months all you did was try to be the perfect housewife, you cooked, cleaned, worked and brought home the little money you made in order to win back your husband's attention, not only that, you didn't want to have to give away to everyone who told you you would be making a mistake by marrying so young. It had been so difficult to actually admit to yourself your marriage was at a risk, and now you just had enough proof. After months of indifference, your husband was now mumbling another woman's name; as if it wasn't bad enough, he was trying to make the tables turn by accusing you of being crazy. That was so typical of men, but not of your Joel, you thought he would never do that, you were so sure he was honest, honorable, a decent human being, he wouldn't hurt you on purpose in order to prove his point. Or so you thought.
"Don't you fucking dare call me crazy, Joel Miller, for the past couple of months you haven't given a shit about me, you're never home, you never spend time with me, you don't hug me, don't kiss me, you don't even fuck me anymore, and now you are mumbling someone else's name? Who's she? Is she your mistress? How long have you been with her?"
Again, you tried being strong, you really did, but your voice cracked, and the tears threatening to escape now ran freely down your cheeks, he'd walked away from you, but you managed to corner him in the kitchen, you were tired of being blinded by your own feelings, at the same time you were tired of being played by Joel, he had no right to act that way.
"Answer me, Joel!!! Who's the fucking whore?!" You yelled at him, the impatience and anxiety creating an explosive combination inside of you. You were so close to solving the mystery that haunted you at the same time you didn't wanna hear any further word. You just wished you could close your eyes and make all that away, you wish you could just wake up and see the last couple of months were nothing but a nightmare and that you still had the same good old loving Joel Miller as the best husband in the world; instead, he simply groaned, rubbing his face and looked down, not having the courage of look at you in the eyes.
"She's not a whore, don't call her that. I-We.. we're in love. I met her at work, she's the receptionist there and we hit it off… she's gorgeous, funny and I fell for her" he swallowed not sure where the strength to be honest with you about his feelings was coming from, but it was enough to make eye contact "I've never cheated on you, Y/N, I haven't slept with her yet, I haven't even kissed her, but I think she's the one, I wanna be with her, I'm not gonna lie to you anymore"
"You don't love me anymore?" That was all you could ask, out of all the cruel and raw information he suddenly threw on you, the only thing you could register was the lack of feelings from the man who swore to love you forever one day.
"Jesus, Y/N, let's not do this now" he groaned, wanting to shift all that anger towards you, somehow blaming you for what happened so he wouldn't be consumed by his own guilt. He wasn't blind, he knew you loved him, he knew you waited at the door for him every single day, with dinner ready a pie in the oven and giving you those sad, heart eyes in hopes of receiving his affection once more. You reminded him of a puppy, as bad as it sounded, all it took you to be happy was a crumble of his love. What angered Joel was that you weren't satisfied with just crumbles, you wanted more and more from him, and he was unavailable; he simply couldn't give it to you, because his heart belonged to someone else. He hadn't planned on that happening, if it were up to him, he would've honored the vows he took on his wedding day, but Angela walked into his life without a warning and swept him off his feet. He couldn't stay with you out of pity, you deserved to be happy and so did you, but you weren't meant to be together.
"Do you love me or not, Joel?! Did you even love me?" Another grunt from his lips, you were so frustrated you didn't know how to rationalize, how to wrap your head around the fact he proposed to you, he had promised you the world and yet now he was treating you as if you had never mattered to him. His cowardice made you sick, he wasn't even man enough to look you in the eyes, you felt so angry a part of you was glad his body blocked your access to the silverware set because if you got your hands into it you knew at that moment you were willing to make a mistake. You gripped his shirt, slapping his chest and scratching him in a sloppy way, demanding answers from him. He could stop you at any moment, Joel was bigger and stronger than you, but he let you have your moment of hurting him out of pity, before calming gripping your arms and pushing you away
"I guess it's obvious I don't love you anymore, I love Angela, it's not my fault, it just happened, but I'm sure I want to be with her, you and I can't keep lying to ourselves, you can't keep lying to yourself, we're over, just as the love I felt from you, it's over…"
•••
You didn't remember much more after that. Some flashes of the following days, where the initial shock was still going strong, the waves of sadness mixed with anger, how Joel gathered some of his clothes and left the house that same night - probably to go to Angela's, how you refused to eat for the couple of days, you didn't talk to anyone, just spent your time alternating between crying yourself to sleep and actually sleeping, were just moments of blur. At some point you remember Tommy - Joel's brother checking up on you just to make sure you were alright. Tommy was the youngest of the Miller brothers, he was said to be the inconsequential one, but he would never do what his older brother had done.
Only after a few days Joel stopped by the house you once had shared, he had heard from his brother the pitiful mess you'd become because of him, and though a part of him didn't have the courage to ever face you again, another part - a more honorable one - insisted on it because he had to give you some kind of explanation. So after work, he didn't drive to Angela's like he'd been doing for the last few days, becoming his sweet routine and bringing so much joy now that he was free to love her just as much as she wanted to love him. Instead of going to his happy place, Joel drove back to the house that used to be his home for a while, a place where he'd been happy but it hadn't been enough for him. It was funny how he expected things to be drastically different, because his life had taken a dramatic turn just as yours had, and yet, things were just the same, or they appeared to be at least. He got off his truck, seeing that not a lot had changed, but this time there wasn't music coming from the house, it didn't smell like fresh cooked dinner, simply the living room with the lights on were the only thing that showed there was still someone in the house.
When he walked in, he expected to see you crying, depressed and begging him to get back, but much to his surprise, all your bags were already nearly packed and though it was visible you'd had some rough time by dark circles under your eyes and how pale your skin was, you welcomed him with a emotionless expression on your face, pointing at the couch, so he would take a seat and you could talk things through. After all the crying and suffering, you felt as if something had clicked and suddenly you went from heartbroken to numb. You knew the swirl of feelings would come and go, but taking advantage of your numbness, you put your head into place as best as you could and packed all your things, you didn't want to stay at that place surrounded by Joel memories, knowing he'd left the place you once called home and you were both so happy and also so unhappy in a short span of time. You wanted to put yourself back together, heal from him, forget he ever existed, go back to studying and focus on yourself only. But for that to happen, you wanted closure, not only wanting, you needed closure.
His low apologies combined with the rambling that came out of Joel's mouth was getting on your nerves, why couldn't he man up and actually tell you what he needed to in order to finally close that chapter in your lives.
"If you're not getting straight to the point, I will, Joel… I packed my bags, I am leaving this house, it's yours, your family managed to help you with it and I wouldn't feel comfortable living here. I'll go to college as soon as the next semester starts and I'll be waiting for the divorce papers, sign it as soon as possible, and pretend this never happened"
"Wait… what?! You want to divorce?!" Joel was quite shocked, not that he didn't want to divorce, because he did, so he could finally be officially with Angela, but he didn't think it would be that easy for you to agree, let alone be the one suggesting it.
You laughed. It was a dry, ironic laughter, because honestly, you didn't think Joel was that much of a dick, it was fascinating how he broke your heart and he still found a way to have his ego bruised by the fact you wouldn't accept being in a submission position, that you wouldn't cry and beg for him.
"What did you expect Joel?! That I would stay here, legally married to you, cooking and washing your dirty underwear while you go out of the door and keep cheating on me with that whore? Seriously? That's how low you think of me?"
"I already told you she isn't a whore and I have never cheated on you, that's why I want to divorce, us getting married was clearly a mistake and it's not my fault if I don't love you anymore.."
"So whose fault is it? Mine?! Do you really think what you did isn't cheating, Joel? Just because you hadn't fucked her while we were still together, but you had spent time with her, emotionally connected with her, fuck, just the fact you let her get closer to you even though you were married, that's cheating! You say it isn't because you don't want to feel guilty, but deep down inside you just know it is! I agree with you on one thing, though: our marriage was a stupid mistake, because of you I delayed a whole year of my life, I almost sacrificed my future because I really took your words and believed them, that we would be together, I never thought out of all the people in the world, you would be the one to hurt me! I trusted you, do you even know how many times I cried and sulked because I blamed myself for your behavior? The amount of times I felt guilty for even remotely considering the possibility of you having someone else? Because in my mind you'd always been the perfect husband and yet, you were backstabbing me day after day, with that slut!"
"Don't you fucking call her a slut! She's not a slut, she's not a whore! It's not her fault if you are a petty envious woman!"
"She is a slut Joel, I'm sure of it, because if she had any decency she wouldn't have come closer to a married man, my husband! She is probably excited about the thrill, but I'm certain that once the reality hits and she sees herself locked inside having to carry out chores everyday, take care of the house, the husband and even the kids if you two ever come to it, it's not gonna be as fun, and then you'll meet her for real. I don't wish you anything bad, but god help you if you ever have to face a disappointment as big as mine"
You dried your tears and began removing your wedding ring, it was quite pricey taking into account how complicated your financial situation was. You intended to return it to him, but the mere thought of maybe Joel taking the ring and handing it to his former mistress and soon-to-be official girlfriend, was enough to make you nauseated. You gave up removing it and left the ring right there.
"I'm leaving this place tomorrow, you can send the divorce papers over to my parents' and I hope I'll never see you again, Joel"
•••
You wished you could say that was the last time you ever saw Joel Miller in your life, but unfortunately, things weren't too easy for you. Only two months before you could finally enter college and forget about the disastrous year you had, you were working double shifts at the mall, in hopes of saving a decent amount of money for yourself. It was supposed to be another lazy evening, in which you would have to kill time until you could go home, you had just had your break and as you walked back into the store, you couldn't help but pay attention to your left hand. The wedding ring still there. It brought you shame and embarrassment, the mere fact you left it there. You often lied to people and to yourself by saying it was a way of keeping disrespectful customers away, but the truth was, you just didn't know why it was so hard to do it. It felt like a weight you couldn't get rid of, a part of your life that seemed like nothing but delusion.
You were scared of removing that ring, it was a sign that Joel wouldn't be much more than a memory to you, and even if you knew that was exactly what you needed, your heart still yearned for him. It wasn't fair, to still love the person who had hurt you the most, burying deep those feelings but also knowing they were there was nerve wracking.
You were ready to get back to work, just about to enter the store you were so used to spending your whole day when you felt paralyzed.
"What do you think of this one, darling? Do you think our baby will like it?"
It was Joel's voice.
His voice.
Darling.
Our baby.
You stopped yourself right there, too far away from their distracted eyes, taking in all the colorful and beautiful options they had before them, but also close enough so you could actually hear the conversation. Joel Miller was going to be a dad, it was a fact, you weren't having a nightmare that you were about to wake up in cold sweat at any minute, instead, he was there, with her, the woman he dumped you for, the woman who was now carrying his child. Under the shelves you'd been hiding, you could only catch a glimpse of her baby bump, and the way Joel's hand rested over it in a protective way. It was enough to make your stomach upset, your eyes burning with the tears that once more insisted on appearing. He had moved on from you, much faster than you had moved on from him; their happiness could be beautiful to anyone, but to you it was disgusting, infuriating, they had no right to come to your place of work and be so glad about life itself.
You couldn't actually see Angela's face, all you were able to watch from where you stood was Joel's hand on her womb, his right one, but the moment he rested his left one on her waist, you gasped softly. The wedding ring was gone.
Joel wasn't feeling that comfortable about being at that particular store, though it was the only decent baby clothing store at the mall, he knew you worked there or at least used to; but Angela wanted new baby stuff and he was going to be a dad, so it was his duty to take her and help her sort things out. He thought of you, not having seen you or listened to your voice in months he sort of missed you? He couldn't lie to himself, he was glad to be divorced, he was happy in a relationship with a baby on the way, but you'd been important to him too, he wished things didn't have to end the way they did, he has gotten used to living with you, seeing you, kissing you, touching you, it was natural that he missed the dynamics you two had established. A part of him sort of wanted to run into you at the store, he wanted to see how you were doing, if you were taking good care of yourself, but it was a relief to everyone you weren't there. It would be just awkward and embarrassing to be baby clothes shopping in front of you. And of course, he never wanted to hurt you more than he had already done it, but you would have probably interpreted it as provocation.
He scratched down his head while Angela picked all her favorites, Joel tried hard not to pay attention to the price tags, money was still a delicate matter for the two of them, but he had managed to get some by selling his wedding ring. Of course the pair would've been worth a lot more, but he couldn't go after you to ask for your ring, so he just negotiated his own and took the money. It wasn't the ideal situation, but in a few months they'd welcome the tiny little person that would become the most important thing in Joel's life.
You were too hurt to continue watching their display of happiness, you turned your back to the place you were hiding and you returned to the small break room. That was indeed the last time you'd seen Joel Miller; that was it until you also met someone who brought chaos but also colors into your life.
•••
"Aren't you too old to sell cookies door to door for school?" Joel asked while chewing his scrambled eggs and slurped his coffee, watching as his daughter rolled her eyes at him
"Aren't you too old not to eat your vegetables?" She snapped back at him in their usual morning routine.
Sarah was a teenager, much to Joel's sadness, as he still had serious attachments to when she was younger. He knew it was part of life, and watching her blossoming into a beautiful young girl made him proud and hopeful about the future, he knew his sweet Sarah would go far. But that also made him scared, because no matter how irrational it was, Sarah always reminded him of you; and he knew that if any guy ever dared to do to his baby girl, what he did to you, he would be really to kill him in no time. Joel Miller would like to think he had improved a lot as a human being, after all, he wasn't a young man anymore, he was a full grown adult, who had to get himself together and mature after he was abandoned by his girlfriend with a newborn baby. Life was full of irony and he was one to witness it, being left by the woman he loved and trusted a little more than a year after he was the one who walked away from someone who loved and trusted him. It was what everyone said: karma is really a bitch.
Through the years, Joel really felt an urge to call you, perhaps ask you to meet him, so you could catch up and he could finally apologize to you, but he had lost all contact with you. In fact he had no idea what you were up to through the decades, the few times your parents ran into him on the street or at the grocery store and made sure to ignore his presence and pretend they'd never met. He just couldn't approach them and ask for your phone number. Besides, what would he even tell you?
"Hey, I just wanted to tell you the woman I left you for also left me, so now I'm a lonely single dad and I realized I took you for granted and maybe if you ain't busy, we could go for a cup of coffee or something?!"
It would be just straight up stupid, not to mention he was sure you would've found someone nice, someone worthy of you, probably you'd be married by then, perhaps you'd have a kid or two, and he was sure you'd be an amazing mother, because he just knew you were an amazing wife, and he was the only one to blame for not treating you the way you deserved it.
So Joel decided it was best if he pretended nothing ever happened just like you did with him, of course destiny had other plans.
He gave Sarah a ride to school and went to work. It would be another busy day, like all of his days, in which he would work hard in order to save as much money as he could, wanting to assure his daughter the future she deserved. For Sarah, it meant another day of classes and selling cookies. She didn't like the activity, but she didn't hate it either. In fact, on that particular day she felt kind of excited as she was about to head towards the 'good' part of the neighborhood, where most houses were big and seemed expensive. Getting her backpack and her stash of goodies to sell, she left home and went on with her day.
You, on the other hand, hadn't planned on coming back to Austin so soon, as the years turned into a decade, and then a little bit more than that, you had dedicated yourself fully to your academic and professional life, focusing on yourself only, managing to bury deep your memories of Joel and never paying attention to anything remotely close to a love life.
Yes, you'd had relationships, affairs, and you'd been with a few guys: one of them was Javier, he was a handsome but very slutty cop who you had a no-string relationship with; it was good for a while, he was handsome, sexy and he fucked like no other, but he had a taste for women that unabled himself to keep it inside of his pants. You liked the freedom, but that was too much.
You also dated a guy named Dave for a brief period, he was nice, also painfully handsome, a tiny bit mysterious about his high profile government job, but he wanted a family, not just another relationship. He wanted marriage and kids, and you were just out of it in no time. The last straw was when you were traveling back home and during one stop for dinner at a small, cozy bar, a guy dressed entirely in cowboy attire came onto you. It was the undeniable proof you weren't made for relationships at all; it was like Joel Miller had casted a spell, or worse, a curse on you: it had become impossible for you to be in a relationship. Still, that wasn't your main concern, not more than why you had to move back to Austin after all those years shifting from New York to Boston, Texas and even a brief period in Spain which led you into an affair with another guy named Javier, but well, that was definitely another story. You'd simply got a phone call from your parents talking about a family emergency and once you had asked for a leave, your boss had mentioned the opportunity of you working for the Austin branch, it was a promising one, with a lot of chances of career growth and becoming the head of the office would actually come in handy, so you had no other option than say yes and pack your stuff. When you got back to Texas, despite the suffocating heat, you were also welcomed with suffocating news of your grandmother's passing, and a couple of weeks later, the news she'd left you a house in the suburbs, a real good area with many families, easy traffic and a lot of space. Having become an apartment person over the years, you first thought it was so odd to live in a house, especially by yourself. Everything seemed so big but now you didn't have to worry about having to clean it all, being able to afford someone to do so, you found your way by decorating everything exactly the way you liked it, using the spare rooms to build your home office, your closet space and a guest room, you slowly turned grandma's house into your own. However, the exterior still bothered you: there was a great space in the backyard, but the swimming pool was empty and dirty, and you could definitely have a barbecue area built so you could welcome your friends and family on weekends. As it wasn't your priority, you didn't bother so much about it, turning your attention to settling into your new office first.
•••
"Oh, hi ma'am, I'm selling cookies to help our school fund, would you be interested?" Sarah displayed a wide grin, hoping that would soften up the very annoyed looking old woman who opened the door. She noticed how the old lady looked at her up and down and just groaned a 'no' before practically slamming the door shut. Sarah sighed and shook her head, and there she was thinking the people who lived in the wealthier part of the neighborhood were more generous, but apparently they were just a bunch of snobbish cunts. Her stomach growled in hunger as she walked some more, she knew she should've eaten before going to sell the cookies, but she didn't have time at that moment. She insisted some more, knocking on another door, having no clue she was actually knocking on her father's ex-wife's door.
Sighing tiredly as you closed your laptop, you looked around and focused on what you would do next. You knew you needed to go grocery shopping soon, but you just didn't feel like driving to the store and pick up vegetables, so instead, you left your study and went to the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and groaning slightly the moment the doorbell rang. You were just so comfortable on the couch, you considered ignoring whoever was on the other side of the door, but for some reason, a slight wave of guilt made its presence and you obliged to answer whoever was disturbing you.
"Hello! My name's Sarah Miller and we're selling cookies for the school fund, would you be interested?" The smiley girl repeated her memorized speech the moment you open the door, she discreetly watched you, seeing you didn't seem so closed like the woman from the previous house, but still she wasn't sure if you were friendly, not when you stared at her with a seemingly shocked look.
Miller.
Her name was Miller.
Your heart raced and lost track of what she was saying, knowing you desperately needed to get your shit back together; Miller wasn't an uncommon name at all, quite the opposite, you had met a few people who also coincidentally had the same last name as your ex-husband, so your reaction to the girl's name was just absurd. Maybe it was because you were back in Austin, where everything happened, but then again, you reminded yourself Joel wasn't the only person named Miller in Texas.
"I-I'm sorry… I got distracted but yeah, I'll take two boxes" you smiled at the girl, she was a teenager, a very pretty one, she was pretty good at expressing herself though she looked exhausted and sweaty.
"Would you like to drink some water?" You offered her, feeling sorry for her at the realization she had probably been walking under the sunlight for quite some time. Sarah didn't think twice before nodding eagerly as she stepped inside, dragging her school bag and her cookie cart along. You let her in, finding sweet how she looked all over the place, taking in the different details from your home and enjoying that environment.
You guided her to the kitchen, getting her a tall glass of iced water, frowning at the fact she wasn't following you anymore. Instead, she stood in front of your bookshelf, looking at it up and down, trying to take in as many titles as she could. Sarah would love to have her own bookshelf like that, she loved reading ever since she was a little girl and though she used the school's library a lot, she thought the idea of having her own things was appealing, but she understood her dad couldn't simply splurge on books for her whenever she wanted to.
"Do you like books?" You asked her, walking closer and handing her the glass of water, which she killed with only a few gulps.
"Have you read all of them?!" Her surprised voice made you chuckle, she was such a sweet girl, you had no idea why you instantly liked her, but you did.
"Well, not all of them… I've just bought some of them and I haven't had the time yet, why? Did any of them interest you?"
"Well…" she said shyly and hesitantly ran her fingers through them, only pulling one out to read the description at your encouraging nod. "This one seems nice…"
"It is nice… do you want it? You can take it!" You smiled at how she blinked a little confused but nodded, so thankful for your kindness. Even if she didn't know you, Sarah already liked you. She smiled at the book and placed the glass down.
"Have you had lunch?" She shook her head shyly and you smiled "come on, I'll make you a sandwich…"
For the next hour, you and Sarah talked about several things: she told you about her school, her interests and how much she loved reading. She had assured you she would return you the book as soon as she finished it and you assured her she could borrow as many as she would like. She also briefly talked about her family, mentioning she lived with her dad on the other side of the neighborhood and you told her a little bit more about yourself.
She widened her eyes the moment she saw what time it really was, and quickly grabbed her backpack and the book you'd lent her, thank you several times as she walked towards the door "go before your mom gets worried about you" you told her without much thinking, but she shrugged "mom's not around… I live with my dad only, but it was really nice meeting you, Y/N"
•••
And for the next month, at least once a week you'd get a visit from Sarah. It had become a habit of hers to just stop by, spend a couple of hours with you, return you the book she'd borrowed the week before and get a new one. She didn't talk much about her family, it was mostly about school, friends and boy crushes and books. You were kind of suspicious she was missing a feminine figure, since she briefly told you her mom left a couple of months after she was born without looking back, you picked up the hint she wasn't open to talk about it yet, and you respected it. You were glad you unexpectedly got a new friend, a very young friend, and at first you thought it was kind of odd, until you realized she sort of resembled a daughter figure to you. After all, if you had had children with Joel, your child would be around Sarah's age.
Joel also thought it was kind of weird his daughter made an adult friend, he was well aware of how dangerous things were in the world, especially for young, innocent girls like Sarah, but when she told him her new friend was a woman, single, childless woman, who was nice, definitely had some money but also seemed quite lonely, he assumed she was one of those old cat lady kind of women; in his mind, his daughter's mysterious friend was probably a widow, who didn't have any kids and now had to approach random people for attention so she wouldn't be alone all the time. If only he knew how wrong he was, he would've asked your name, but he didn't. And he also knew he should've done it, perhaps even asked for your phone number so he could call you in case of god forbid, an emergency. But he worked so hard, not only that, he was going through a very stressful period too, so he didn't pay as much attention as he should have towards several things.
Sarah had become acquainted with several aspects of your life, from the time you spent together in your weird version of a book club. Mostly the conversations were about her and the struggles she often faced as a teenager, but sometimes you let out information, plans or complaints here and there. It wasn't different the day you were very displeased with how your backyard was looking; it had potential to be a beautiful place but it needed fixing and remodeling. Perhaps it'd been the stress at work, but for whatever reason the way that place looked was bothering you and making you cranky, if any other given day you wouldn't give a crap about it, but at that moment you did, and not only that, you mentioned it to Sarah, who tried to be useful and told you she could ask her dad to take a look at it, after all, he was in the business and could help you with it. You said yes and told her you'd be expecting the two of them on Saturday morning. Only when the girl had left happily carrying another book in hands, was that you realized that maybe, and just maybe, you should've asked her father's name.
•••
"So, you're really sure this friend of yours wants to get some stuff remodeled? And that she can afford it?" Joel glanced at Sarah before focusing again on the street as he drove to her new friend's house. He wasn't truly convinced you would actually want to hire his services, it just seemed too good to be true. He held back a smile at the way Sarah rolled her eyes at him, she'd told him hundreds of times that yes, you needed someone to repair and remodel the backyard, if anything, he could at least indicate you someone who could provide the service you were looking for.
"Fine, let's help the old lady then" he grunted at the same time his daughter turned to him "what old lady?!"
"Your friend… isn't she old? I mean, she's lonely and she lets you hang out… I thought she'd be like our neighbor an-"
"Dad, she's younger than you, I think! And she's pretty too…"
At that information Joel was more curious about you. Why was a pretty young woman all alone and willing to be friends with a girl who could roughly be her kid's age?! Were you really pretty? And did you really want your backyard remodeled or was Sarah playing matchmaker? He really hoped she wasn't, otherwise he would be very angry. Joel didn't need a new relationship, he didn't want to, having failed the two major ones he had in his life, the first one being so immature and cruel to his sweet young wife and the second one he didn't exactly where he screwed up, perhaps he had just been naive and thought the woman who wanted nothing more than just some fun was actually willing to build a life with, or maybe he wanted her to take over your place, after all, you'd set the bar pretty high for Angela when it came on being a dedicated housewife. The raw fact was that Joel was alone all those years later, his first wife was hopefully living her best years with someone who truly deserved her and Angela was God knows where but he didn't give a single fuck. She'd been dead to him from the moment she walked out of his door, denying her own baby, and all that passion he felt turned into hurt and anger. Unlike the feelings he had for you: as the years passed and he grew older, he thought of several times he could've treated you better than he did, he thought of how he would have tried not hurting you as much as he did, even if the situation the two of you were was tricky, he often fantasized about a version of your marriage where he hadn't ruined everything, where he had been honest without being cruel, without playing with your feelings, he didn't know if it was just his conscious weighing heavily on him or what, but he always thought of you with affection and love. At that time he was sure he didn't love you anymore, the passion he felt for the other woman was too intense, too much, it blinded and deafened him from everything around, everything that mattered the most to him at the time. But all those years later, Joel was sure the love for you was still there, perhaps it was just hidden away, or it got stuck under all that shit that went on, still, he didn't know who you had become, what you looked like or where you were at that moment, so it was a fairly assumption he was still in love with a memory and nothing more than that.
"Fine, so what's her name after all?" He questioned his daughter after some moment of silence but before she could answer, Joel parked his truck in front of your home.
You heard the engine and you went to the window, checking the unknown car parked in front of your place and though you couldn't actually see them inside, you knew it was Sarah and her dad. Just as you went to the door, he exited the car, his back to the entrance as you walked to them and greeted Sarah, at the sound of your voice he immediately turned around and the two of you froze in time as you watched each other there.
Joel.
You felt as if you were trapped in a weird dream, the ones you know you are just dreaming and yet you can't move or speak, just taking the role of the audience of a bizarre picture that formed before your eyes. Joel on the other hand, stared at you in complete silence, you couldn't really read him, it was impossible to know what was going on in his mind, in his heart, you could just feel his eyes roaming over your body, taking all the image of you as if he was trying to make sure you were actually what he saw in front of him. He couldn't believe it, after all those years, after everything he did to you, you were there, beautiful as you'd always been, even more so, the fancy lifestyle really suited you, he could tell by your clothes, your nails perfectly done, your hair looking gorgeous and styled nicely, you had succeeded, you had had a life he knew he could never provide you, and for that he felt kind of relieved, at least one good thing came out of your divorce: the chance of you having the success you deserved it, you weren't that housewife who needed to still work part time at the mall, you were above that now, and Joel was so damn proud of you for it.
"I-I.. yo-"
"Nice to meet you, you must be Sarah's dad" you interrupted him before he could say your name and extended your hand to him, pretending you'd just met. He was confused but you tilted your head very discreetly towards his daughter, being sure she didn't know anything that had happened between the both of you. He immediately picked up the hint and introduced himself, as if you were meeting for the first time. His hand engulfed yours like it always did, Joel Miller had always had big and strong hands, surely they got calloused through the years, but you knew damn well what they were capable of doing to you. He was older, looking more handsome than you thought he would, he aged like a fine wine, streaks of silver here and there but the majority of his hair still dark and soft like always, he was bigger too, he was stronger, broad and grew several muscles, all of it a result of years of hard-working. No matter if he had broken your heart, there was no denying he was an extremely attractive man.
He appreciated how heartfelt you were towards his daughter and gladly followed you inside once you invited him into the backyard to discuss what could be done. Sarah was right behind the two of you, but you turned to her, smiling big
"I went to the bookstore yesterday and I think you might enjoy what I bought, wanna take a look at it? They're all in the living room" you suggested to her who nodded and happily went after the books.
Once you and Joel got into the backyard, he stuttered some apologies but you immediately cut him off.
"I don't want apologies Joel, I didn't know Sarah was your daughter and I probably wouldn't have let her in if I knew who she was, but now I got attached to her and I hope our situation isn't going to prevent us from being friends" you told him honestly and watched as he nodded
"You know, her mom, Angela, she left us and I'm very sorry I left you for her.. "
"I don't wanna hear it, Joel. As I said, I don't wanna hear it about her mom or the apologies or anything at all, I mean, Sarah told me what happened and it's enough, you and I aren't together anymore, we're better off without each other, so let's just overcome this part and focus on the job I need you to do…"
"You know, I can indicate you another contractor to do it for you, so it won't be weird…"
"No, you can do it, unless you are feeling uncomfortable but other than that, I'd rather you do it, besides, Sarah would find it awkward"
And like that, Joel got into his professional mood and the two of you discussed the project you had in mind, hiring his services, he told you he could start the next Monday and he would take care of it himself, to make sure things would go according to your wishes. He noticed you didn't wear any commitment rings, nor there were pictures of you and any guy indicating a relationship and in his heart, the hope of perhaps taking you out for a coffee and getting to know you, the woman you'd become after those years, after growing mature and changing your life completely, growing in his heart. It was a fair assumption Joel had an immediate crush on you, the feelings he held within, were now blossoming more, at how beautiful, intelligent and attractive you were and suddenly, the roles were reversed: if more than ten years ago you had it bad for him, now he was the one who felt like a sick love puppy towards you.
The first week of working wasn't so bad at all, Joel would arrive at yours earlier than you expected and would start working. You didn't stay around much, letting him do his job while you were probably working in the living room or any other part of the house whenever you didn't have to go to work per se. He tried making small talk during some of his breaks and since you didn't see any harm in it, you chatted briefly, that was how he'd learned what you did for a living, where you'd been after you left Austin, and stuff like that. He told you some things about his life, mostly about how it'd been the experience of raising a child on his own, but whenever he got near bringing up your past or trying to apologize, you'd cut up any kind of interaction with him. At the end of the day you and him had nothing but a professional relationship. He understood your reasons, and yet, he hoped you would find at least a small breach in your heart to let him in, he really hoped he could show you he was a better man now, that he could be suitable for you, and yet, you kept yourself all the way distant and protecting yourself from him.
So it became a very common scene to always escape from Joel, moving seats or rooms whenever he was around, you didn't know how else to act, what he expected from you. It wasn't like you were old buddies catching up after years in a long-distance relationship. And he always got displeased.
It was about the third week of working at your house, he asked if he could use your kitchen to have lunch, heating up the food he'd eat, you smiled at yourself as you were taken back by the memories of times where you would prepare him lunches and send it in his lunchbox, how you would worry about him being hungry so you would always make sure there was something fresh out of the oven for him to nibble on as soon as he got home from work and chuckled softly, shaking your head and excusing yourself. He'd thought you would at least have lunch next to him, but you weren't willing to do that at all, and that both pained and pissed him off.
"Would it kill you to spend time with me? Look at me? Or act like a human being instead of being all stiff like a robot whenever I'm around?" He asked, breaking the silence, you could see he was frustrated and that puzzled you to no end.
"What are you talking about, Joel?!"
"You don't talk to me, Y/N, I try making small talk, you don't answer me, you don't even look at me, suddenly I'm not worth your time? You're too good to even acknowledge I am next to you?"
"Do you really want to talk about not being worth someone's time? Really Joel? I thought you had grown up during all these years but I can see you are just the same shallow fuckboy who gets pissed off when you see I'm not crawling towards you…"
"Stop being unfair to me! All I'm trying to do is to show you I've changed, I am a better man, a better person, I'm not that same immature Joel you met so many years ago, I'm trying to make you see I'm a new man…" he went from angry to desperate, you took a step closer and looked into his eyes, not breaking the eye contact for one second.
"I know Joel, I know you've changed… you've grown into this hardworking man, this amazing father, I can see it, I hear it every time Sarah comes over, but you don't have to try too hard, it's not gonna change anything… You and I are two different people, we have nothing to do with each other anymore"
"You can't say that, I want you to see we could try it again, I still love you, Y/N!"
"Joel, we'll never try it again, the marks of your betrayal still linger here, all over me, forgetting you was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I don't want to ever feel it again. You don't love me, Joel. You love the idea of me, of picking up the shattered parts of your broken life and making it right, you love the thought of building up a family, of giving your daughter the mom she deserves, and it's all because it didn't work out with that woman. We both know it… if she hadn't left you wouldn't even be thinking of me" you looked down, trying to hold back a tear that insisted on falling, but failing at that matter. "I wasn't good enough to be by your side, to build a family with you, you can't just expect me to throw myself into your arms as if nothing had happened, what exactly do you think would happen between us in the first place? I'd be waiting for you every single night with dinner ready? Those days were over, Joel…" you sniffed and he sighed, placing his hand on his waist.
"Give me a chance, go on a date with me, please… before you say no, just think about it, of what we could have together… please! You don't have to answer me now, think about it and when I finish the job, you can tell me your answer"
•••
The following weeks were as normal as they could be; you hadn't told Joel yes but you hadn't told him no either and even if it pained you to admit it, you sometimes thought of his proposition. Sarah was still coming over, your bond was now stronger, you really liked each other and despite everything that happened, you were thankful Joel wasn't against your friendship. You two had agreed on not telling her anything about your shared past at the moment, but in case you two decided she needed to know it for whatever reason, Joel would be the one to tell her, it would only make sense. You also thought about his words and you decided to be nicer to him, actually stopping to talk to him, or having lunch next to him instead of rushing away as fast as you could and in retribution, he stopped with the feelings talk. The deadline was coming to an end, as your backyard remodeling was getting prettier and prettier each passing day. It was odd and awkward and you wanted to get things over with as soon as possible at the same time a strange fascination with watching Joel caught you. It was hard to explain, but when the final day came, when Joel and his assistant showed you the word ready and done, and after you paid them the large wage you owed them for the services, your ex-husband asked to talk to you. He had hope in his eyes, he was wearing his flannel, and he'd combed his hair a little, which made him look painfully handsome, your heart clenched. Even before he could say anything, you already had your answer. He stood in front of you, baffled at the fact you threw your arms around his body, pulling him for a hug. His hands locked around your waist, strong grip not wanting to let go, while you sank into his warmth. He was your old Joel, the one you'd loved so deeply and broke your heart, but nonetheless your Joel.
Taking your hand to his face, you stroked it gently, feeling his beard scratching your palm a little and you smiled "I forgive you, Joel… I don't know if you wanted my forgiveness or not, but I forgive you anyway, I don't resent you anymore, what's gone, it's gone and now we can only focus on our future. I know that if I tried looking for a space in my heart, I would find it a part that still keeps all the love I felt for you, but we've changed, for the best and that teaches us we should never make the same mistakes from the past, so you do understand why we can't go on this date, right? We can't be together, I'm sorry Joel, but you know it's true… I just need one last thing from you…"
You told him, leaning towards him and pecking his lips. After all that time, it still felt like your favorite place in the world, your heart raced the moment he groaned into your mouth and his hands tightened his dominating grip on you. It was quite pathetic how he still had the same effect over you and if he hadn't hurt you as much as he did and condemned you two to a relationship based on lack of trust, perhaps you could even consider trying again. Forgiving and forgetting were different things, whereas you didn't resent him anymore, you hadn't forgotten about how broken he left your heart. You would never be able to trust him again, always worrying he had found someone better like he did once, you couldn't do that to yourself, you loved yourself too much to go back to Joel Miller. That last kiss you cherished, you would keep it in your memories, but it wouldn't go further than that. You and Joel were done for years and nothing would convince you otherwise.
____
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it 😭💔
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raya-hunter01 · 4 months
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Not My Sister's Keeper Pt 1 & 2
Roman X OC(Kara)
Jey Uso X OC (Tia)
Rating: 18+
Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy
Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage and travel with him on the road. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.
What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?
This first chapter. I posted the ending of the chapter for the seven-sentence challenge.
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Pensacola, Fl
Roman's House
Kara's POV
“What’s wrong baby?” I asked my husband Roman as he seemed to be zoning in and out.
“Nothin, I just heard you talking to Terry this morning and I know you miss your friends out there in Boston. I feel like I forced your hand, and I don’t want you to regret your decision to come home.
“Why would I do that, I missed you too and we both agreed on it.”  
“Kara, I’m gone so much, and I don’t want you to look back and regret coming back. I should have made it a priority to come out more to see you,” Roman said as I caressed his face.
“Babe, I could never regret coming back. I did this for us and our family that we’re building. That means more to me than medical school. I can go back when your schedule is lighter,” I reassured him as he sighed.
“I just hate you had to leave, but I promise within the next two years my schedule will be lighter, and we can get a house out there so you can finish school. You have my word, I promise,” Roman said making me smile at the thought of us getting a house in Boston so I could continue school.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” I whispered as our lips met in a passionate kiss.
The past year had been hard on us, previously I had been traveling with Roman on the road. I loved it and I even had a job that allowed me to work from home.  Still with the perfect schedule I longed for more, so I accepted a scholarship to continue my education in studying medicine at Harvard Medical school. 
At first, Roman was supportive and even stood up to my family about me moving to Boston but then the distance began to cause a heavy strain on our marriage.
We would argue more, he became distant almost resentful that I wasn’t on the road with him anymore or at least in Pensacola waiting for him to come home. 
I didn’t see why he just couldn’t be happy and come see me more. That last argument we had when I was in Boston was an eye opener, I was going to lose my husband if we couldn’t find a solution.
-----
Four months Earlier
Boston Massachusetts
Kara’s Condo
“We’re going to have to make a decision, because this isn’t working babe,” Roman said as I felt my heart drop as we calmed down from our weekly facetime sex session.
 “So, what are you saying? Like get a divorce? Are you seeing someone ele.”
“Kara, I would never, I’m just sayin’ this is getting to be too much.”
“Why can’t you just come out here more on your off days like we agreed. I mean we started off good then all of sudden visits became few and far in between,” I said as Roman frowned sitting up in bed pulling the comforter over his waist.
“I know what we agreed, but I got more stuff on my plate now baby. I can’t help that and then I have stuff to take care of things here in Pensacola when I’m off,” Roman said as I nodded in understanding wiping my tears as he looked at me sadly.
Ugh, Facetime was not the way I wanted to discuss this. We needed to talk in person.
“I swear I’m not saying this to make you cry, baby. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry, ok,” Roman pleaded as I tried to gather myself, sitting up and grabbing my phone.
“No, you have a right to say how you feel, and I understand it,” I whispered as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Kara, I’m just frustrated and miss you so fuckin’ much. We gotta work something out because I can’t take much more of this, especially coming home to an empty house” he whispered as I wiped my tears.
“I miss you too……. We’ll figure something out….I promise.”
The rest as they say is history, a few days later I left medical school behind and surprised Roman by joining him on the road and never went back to school.
Being back on the road with him and in our routine felt good. I knew I was where I belonged, and I felt safe wrapped up in his arms, but I also knew deep in my gut something was wrong, I just didn’t know what.
I couldn’t worry about that today though, it was an important day for Jey and my sister.
“We need to get dressed, babe,” I said stealing one last kiss as Roman caressed my stomach.
“A’ight but I’m ready for this to be over so we can come home and work on our own family,” he whispered in my neck as I blushed.
I truly did love this man and I couldn’t wait to have babies and more babies with him.
------
Tia’s Baby Shower
Kara’s POV
“How are you feeling, sis?”
“I’m feeling very loved,” Tia said rubbing her stomach as I smiled. “We do love you, especially Jey,” I said as Tia looked around nervously.
“Yea, I love my child’s father too,” she said rubbing her stomach, her use of the words felt almost like she was trying to hint about something.
I already knew Jey was the father so what was that about?
Looking at her it seems she in nervous but somewhat happy so I shrugged off her words.
“I can’t thank you enough for this, Kara. It really means a lot to me,” Tia said as I gave her a hug trying to overcome the tension behind us.
“Hey, stop thanking me, I just wanted to throw you my big sister a baby shower. I mean my niece is on the way,” I said as she laughed but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
The dynamics of my family at times could be explosive at times, my parents though married seemed to be just tolerating each other.
For most of our lives my sister and I never got along, and my poor baby brother was always stuck in the middle of it.  
I think the relationship with Jey is a dig at me if I’m being honest. She knew I used to have a crush on him but we both agreed we didn’t want to cross the line and jeopardize our friendship.
Tia acted like she couldn’t stand Jey for all these years and then all of a sudden, she took an interest in him about ten months ago. Then a couple weeks later announces she’s pregnant with his baby.
 I think myy sister’s pregnancy was actually the boost I think we all needed to try to be a somewhat functioning family.
I would say today was a success as our family and friends got together to celebrate the pending arrival of my niece.
“Bae, I’m heading to Gram's to get her gifts,” Jey said sticking his head around the corner as Roman walked around him.
“Go ahead, Uce, I’ll help Tia put everything in the nursery,” he said as Tia avoided making eye contact with Jey and was looking at my husband with a smile.
“Oh, that would be nice, my sister is so lucky to have you,” she said as Roman looked nervous, rubbing the back of his neck.
What the hell is going on?
“Uh, well it’s my pleasure to help. I mean we are family after all.”
Trying to shake off the awkwardness, I decided to change the subject. “I guess ya’ll can start and I’ll put my pots back in the car, then help ya’ll,” I said as Roman shook his head.
“Nah, I got it, you did enough today. This will only take a second. You can go ahead, and head home, I’ll will meet you there,” he said giving me a hug as I smiled.
Roman was always so caring and loving. His soft lips against mine made me excited for what was to come later.
“I’ll see you at home,” I whispered against his lip he nodded.
“I Can’t wait to get home and take this dress off-”
 Tia cleared her throat as I blushed. “Sorry, I’ll see you in the morning, Tia.”
“I’ll call you later, and thanks for lending Roman to do this heavy lifting,” she joked as I saw Roman was seemingly in another world, avoiding her gaze.
Roman’s POV
“Always Ms. Perfect, I know I’m better than her,” I heard Tia mumble under her breath.
I felt my anger rising as Tia slick threw shots at Kara under her breath. Matter of fact, she had been throwing shots all day.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” I yelled as soon as Kara left, causing Tia to smirk.
“What are you talking about, I don’t have a problem, baby,” she chuckled as I snarled.
 “First off, I ain’t your baby and you know what you been doing all day to Kara.
“Oh, God forbid anyone upsets Kara. Oh, you so concerned about her now, but you damn sure wasn'’t when you were fuckin’ me,” she hissed stalking off upstairs as I growled snatching a few gifts off the table and following her.
“Look, I fucked up, and we slept together a few times. Stop trying to make it seem like it was some big love affair. I love Kara and that will never change I said as we walked into the nursery.
“A fuck up is one time, we slept together I know at least six times stop trying to lessen the blow of your actions and own it. I came on to you, and you took everything I had to give,’ Tia said smirking at my uneasiness.
“Look, I love my wife-”
“Yet, you were fucking me…. Her sister, and your cousin’s girlfriend.
“Ok, now that’s bullshit in itself, now you wanna act high and mighty. You only got with Jey to cover yo’ ass; he thinks he got you pregnant off of a one-night stand.”
“I wanted and still want to be with you, but you want her!  What was I supposed to do!” Tia yelled, frustrating me even more.
“Not bring other people into this shit and play with their feelings!”
“I ain’t playin’ with his feelings, I do love Jey,” she said as I scoffed at the bullshit she was spewing.
“Don’t do that shit Roman, we both agreed it was best if he and I raised the baby. You want to be with Kara, right?”
“No, you decided that shit, all by yourself and Jey doesn’t deserve this no more than Kara does!” I shouted trying to get my point across.
“So, what are you sayin? You got a conscious now!” Tia hissed as I growled.
“I’m sayin’ that I’m over this shit, and I’m telling Kara!”
“You really ready to risk losing everything now?!  We both Know Kara will leave you if she finds out.
“I have to tell her-”
“Look, I’m trying to compromise here. Just give me stipend and be a loving uncle to this baby. I promise you can see her whenever you like or say the word and we can be a family together.”
“I’m not her uncle, I’m her father, and even if I lose everything, we aren’t going to be together, Tia. We can co-parent,” I said laying it all out on the line.
“I’ve accepted that, why do you think I’m with Jey. Now you wanna fuck that up for me,” Tia whispered as I felt even more guilty.
We shouldn’t even be discussing this shit now, but it was like we couldn’t stop. It had been a long time since we had been able to talk alone besides on the phone when Kara or Jey weren’t around.
----
Kara’s POV
“Damn, how the hell did I leave my purse?” I muttered walking back inside my sister’s living room, retrieving it.
“You know Kara means the world to me,” I heard Roman say as I smiled picking up the baby monitor, listening to him talk to my sister as they put away some of her baby shower gifts in the nursery; “And I love Jey, that’s why neither one of them can find out you’re the father of this baby.
The silence after Tia's statement defining.
"F-Father," I gasped in shock trying to catch my breath as I waited to hear Roman deny Tia's claim, but it didn't come...Just silence.
I couldn’t breathe, it was as if those words seemed to be stuck on repeat in my mind and it wouldn't stop. “You’re the father of this baby.”
My eyes widened in horror as I lost my footing, collapsing onto the floor, looking at the baby monitor's red lights flashing.
Roman was the father of my sister’s baby.
“Jey is going to find out sooner or later and so is Kara. They ain’t dumb!” Roman hissed as I felt like I wanted to vomit, my breathing shallow as I tried to process what was happening.
“Aye, Tia, I’m back!” I heard Jey yell as I snapped out of the daze I was stuck in and ran out the back door, trying to avoid him.
Jey’s POV
"Tia, I said i'm back!" I shouted looking around the living room, seeing alot of the gifts still around the living room.
“I see that you are,” Tia said appearing at the top of the stairs, as I frowned at her nervousness.
“Why you look so nervous?" I asked sitting down her gift from my grandmother.
 “Roman, Jey’s back!” she yelled, ignoring my question as I heard her voice echo.
“What the hell was that?” I asked as Tia smiled, coming downstairs.
“It’s one of the baby monitors, mama turned it on earlier to show us how it worked. The other one is in the nursery, that’s the echo you heard.” she said as I nodded in understanding.
“Oh, that’s cool we need that for when we need some alone time so we can still hear lil mama in her room,” I said as she laughed.
“You are so silly,” she whispered as I looked around for Kara.  “Kara still here? I need to talk to her about something, I saw her car out front,” I said as Tia shook her head.
 “No, Roman sent her home, matter fact she should be there by now,” Tia said walking over to look out the front door.
“Bae, I’m telling you, I saw her car just a second ago.”
“Are you sure it was her car, it’s not there now,” Tia said as I frowned. “Many times, I done rode in that car, I know my best friend’s car Tia,” I said annoyed at her assumption that I didn’t know what I saw.
“Maybe she had forgot something,” Tia said as I tried to shake the feeling, she was hiding something as Roman finally joined us downstairs.
“Since you back Jey, I’mma head out. Kara is waiting for me at home,” Roman said as I smiled.
“Uce, ya’ll probably will get home at the same time. I just saw her car parked out front,” I said as Roman’s smile dropped.
“Huh, Kara left bout thirty minutes ago,” Roman said looking at his watch as I shrugged my shoulders.
Nah, try five minutes ago, give or take," I said as Tia looked worried.
“Was her car where she parked earlier?” Roman asked as I shook my head.
“No, she was parked out by the street.”
Roman seemed to go white as a ghost and Tia began pacing.
“Uh, I’ll leave ya’ll alone, I need to get home,” Roman said as I followed him to the door. He seemed to be antsy and dare, I say scared.
“Let me me walk you out, Uce.”
“Nah, I’ll see you later fam, I got it,” Roman said walking to his truck as I closed the door.
Damn what had him spooked?
Kara’s POV
I knew I couldn’t go home, if I did, I would kill him…I really would kill him. I parked down the street from my parents and then made my way to their guest house. I didn’t want anyone to see me, not right now.
I was falling apart and needed time to think, this couldn’t be happening it seemed like the minute I closed the door the dam broke as I screamed breaking down in tears sliding down the wall.
“Why him?” I cried overwhelmed by the betrayal of my husband and my sister. The darkness surrounding me, only visible light was from my phone as Roman and Tia had been blowing my phone up.
Not knowing or caring which one it was I accepted the call just wanting the ringing to stop.
“Sis, is that you? Roman has been trying to call you, he’s worried, you weren’t home when he got-.”
 Ending the call without saying a word, I thew the phone hard as I could against the mirror on my parents’ wall. Almost feeling a sense of satisfaction as it shattered into tiny pieces just like my heart had .
“Sis?” I laughed at the gall wiping my tears… “You ain’t no sister of mine,” I whispered, my heart straining against my chest as I tried to control my breathing.
 Every look, nervous movements and awkward exchanges between them played over and over in my mind.
“Sweetie, are you ok? I saw you come back her and I heard a crash,” my mom said coming into the guesthouse, turning on the lights as I scurried to the corner pulling my knees to my chest whipping my tears.
“I’m fine mama, can you please leave,” I whispered as she gasped at my current state.
“Bill! Get in here!” my mother yelled as I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about it; I knew if I did the tears would come harder.
“Mama, I just want to be alone, please,” I sniffed as she came over to me. “Who hurt you baby?” she whispered kneeling down, taking me in her arms as I sobbed my heart out.
“What the hell is going on?!” my father bellowed coming in seeing my mother and I on the floor, locked in a comforting embrace and the glass on the floor.
“Don’t freak her out, calm down Bill, we don’t even know what’s wrong.”
“Well, something fuckin’ happened Rebecca, and I want to know what it is. She in here breaking mirrors and hysterical,” he said as mother sighed pulling out her phone.
“Maybe Tia can tell me, let me call her-”
“Don’t! Don’t ever call her asking her nothing about me!” I screamed hysterically as my mother looked at me in shock.
I jerked away, her touch scorching my skin. Hurrying to my feet, trying to make my exit, but my dad stood in the way.
“This is not like you sweetie. What happened?” my mom asked, rubbing my shoulders as my father and her tried to calm me down.
“Kara, what is going on baby, did something happen between you and your sister?”
“Dad, please just drop it, ok,” I pleaded retrieving my phone, and wiping my tears.
“Let’s give her a little space to breathe Bill,” my mom whispered as I felt myself losing it slowly but surely.
Hearing a car pull in the driveway I went back into flight or fight mode. “Dad, please move, I need to go,” I pleaded as he stood steadfast, unmovable.
“Baby I can’t let you drive like this, let’s just sit down and talk” he suggested as I shook my head.
“I don’t feel like talking daddy,” I said as my mom sighed.
“Dad?! Mom?! We’re here to pick up the crib!” I heard Tia shout my blood ran cold.
The crib we slept in as kids….That crib?
“We’re in here baby,” my mom called out as I cringed as Tia and Jey in came in the guesthouse.
“Aye, you ok Kara?” Jey asked taking in my appearance. I didn’t even care how I looked right now; my eyes were focused on Tia who looked scared to death.
“Maybe we should come back Jey,” she whispered trying to get a feel of what was going on.
“No, I’m good, come in,” I said as she sighed in relief, thinking her secret was still safe.
“Mom, dad, can you leave? I need to talk Tia,” I said as my dad looked between us unsure of my request but threw his hands up.
“Fine, let’s go up to the main house Rebecca and let the girls talk.”
“I think we should stay Bill; something is wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong mama,” Tia said as I nodded my head in agreement.
 “It’s right as rain,” I added as my dad sighed.
“Least she’s willing to talk to Tia, let’s let them talk,” he said ushering my mom out of the room.
“What did you do Tia?” my mom asked as Tia lowered her head in shame as dad closed the door behind them.
“Do you need me to leave Kara?” Jey asked as I shook my head no.
“No, it involves you just as much as it does me,” I whispered as he caressed my shoulder.
“What happened baby girl?” he asked as I looked at Tia trying to see if she would confess but she just stood there as if nothing was wrong.
Jey had to know, I know it wasn’t my place, but he needed to know.
“Girl, you had Roman worried and so was I when he told me you weren’t home. I’m so glad you were here and safe. We thought something had happened to you,” she said as I chuckled at her weak attempt to change the subject.
“Oh, I’m fine….I just needed some time to process some stuff. The problem with that is I only ended up having more questions and I know you know the answers,” I whispered as Jey looked at me confused.
“Questions about what Kara?” Jey asked, looking between Tia and I, picking up on undeniable tension.
“Jey, can you leave Kara and I alone to ta-”
“Jey, stay because I know you’re going to want to know the answers to these questions too.”
"Jey, please leave us,” Tia whispered.
"When were you going to tell me that not only has you been FUCKING my husband, but you're carrying his baby?" I asked calmly as Tia gripped the counter trying to steady herself.
You could hear a pin drop as Jey looked at Tia for any sign of truth to my words.
“Wh…W..What are you talking about Kara?” Tia stuttered as I scoffed at the deer caught in the headlights look on her face.
“Tia, what is Kara talking about?” Jey asked, my heart truly went out to my best friend. He deserved the world, but he always chose the wrong ones to love.
“I don’t know Jey, she isn’t thinking clearly,” Tia said as I rolled my eyes.
“Tia! Words of advice, when you are confessing your dirt and playing God with someone else’s life, make sure the baby monitors aren’t on, projecting your conversations throughout the fuckin’ house, dumb ass!” I hissed as she covered her mouth in shock.
“Ok, let’s calm down lau pele, talk to me, because you ain’t makin’  no sense right now,” Jey said gently pulling me to him.
“I’m sorry Jey, but that isn’t your baby,” I whispered as Tia began sobbing.
“Jey, I can explain-”
“Logan is my daughter, what you sayin to me’?”  he asked, looking between Tia and I, his eyes full of tears.
“Tell him…For once in your miserable life, tell the truth,” I said truly done with the lies.
“Jey, Just listen-”
“Is she mine?” Jey whispered walking closer to Tia as she began to figet wrapping her arms around herself.
“Jey, please, baby-”
“Is she mine, damn it!" Jey screamed as I jumped at the anger and hurt in his voice.
"No!...She’s Roman’s” she whimpered as Jey trembled with anger.
“I am so sorry,” I whispered as he pinched his nose trying to stop his tears from falling but to no avail and began pacing.
“It ain’t yo’ fault Kara…. I shoulda' known betta right? He asked, my heart breaking for him.
“I…..I didn’t mean for it to happen, Kara was gone, Roman and I were spending more time together on the road and it just happened.”
“So, in other words when I was gone, you made a move on him,” I said as she sighed.
“Look you left him, and he needed somebody.”
“How could you do that to Kara?” Jey said as Tia wiped her tears.
“Cause she’s willing…Willing to bed flop with anything that moves and I fuckin’ hate you for it Tia,” I cried wanting to give her this work but I knew I couldn’t.
“I tried to make it right-”
“Oh, that’s right, you slept with me and then told me I got you pregnant,” Jey said as I cringed at how he described it, but it was true.
“Where did you do it?” I asked as Tia subconsciously rubbed her belly.
“Don’t do this Kara?” Tia whispered as I scoffed.
“In my house?.....In my bed?” I asked with a whimper as she shook her head.
“No! As much as things haven’t always been good between us, I would never do that,” she cried as I tried to piece together their intimate moments.
“His bus?” I whispered as she nodded. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, now we were getting somewhere.
“The first night of the UK tour when I couldn’t reach him, he was with you wasn’t he?” I asked as she dropped her head in shame.
“That night you left the show early proclaiming you were sick,” Jey added as she nodded.
“Oh my god I’m going to be sick,” I whispered.
“I swear it’s over, Roman loves you and only you. That’s why we did this!” Tia cried as Jey exploded flipping the couch and storming outta the house.
“Jey! Don’t leave!" Tia cried as I grabbed my keys preparing to leave as well. I had heard and seen enough.
“Actions have consequences Tia. That was one of them, a good man walking out of your life….A new life about to be born," I said pointing at her stomach.
"Kara-"
"Your dead to me,” I whispered, heading for the door as she jumped in front of me.
“Kara, just listen-”
“Don’t call…Don’t text…Don’t come by my home… I never want to see you again,” I said as she gasped, falling against me and grunting in pain.
"Get off of me Tia!" I shouted as she held onto me to steady herself, but I didn't push her away.
 “Kara, my water just broke” she cried as I looked down seeing at the small puddle at her feet.
Are you serious right now? This cannot be happening.....
Taglist:
@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl
@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo
@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites
@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @harmshake @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl  @theninthwonder @mya2real  @justazzi @whatdoeseverybodywant @reignsboy19 wooahmiri alichesmi pytbgeezy @ superpietom 
@truefant4sy @yana3sworld amandairene88
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petrichorium · 2 months
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also on my hands and knees dying to know about ur divorce (and perhaps reconciliation maybe…) with sir croc
Firstly I wanna say croc is THE reason for the divorced tier I had everyone in the husband/fiance/bf (and cusp + complicated) tiers I had the list downloaded and then I looked at croc in the husband tier and I was like no. Divorced………
Anyway I think you’re a marriage of convenience at first. Crocodile needs a wife to look more like An Upstanding Citizen Ready To Settle Down for his plans in Alabasta, you need the stability and rapport for your own reasons. A deal was struck (including a nice shiny prenup and an easy way out for both of you), the wedding goes off without a hitch, and now you’re cohabitating.
You’re all but a stranger, truthfully, though he’ll admit you were one of the most beautiful brides he’s seen walking down the aisle. And he finds your presence in his home less distracting than expected—you stay out of his way mostly, though the pair of you eat meals together and sleep in the same bed and you are always expected to be on his arm for formal occasions. You’re more than decent company, slowly warming to him and growing more open; willing to give advice on occasion, even, and it’s good advice he’s prone to heeding.
Which is why he’s blindsided when you drop the papers on his desk. There’s little he can do—they were practically already signed before the wedding, and in the surprise he can’t compose himself enough to think up a proper protest. All he can do is fold his hands together as you turn to leave, clear his throat, and call out, “Might I ask why?”
You shrug. It almost seems sad. “I want something more. You’re a very busy man, I don’t think you can give that to me.”
And those words haunt him, all the more because every trace of you is gone in the span of a few days. He lays in his bed, alone, pondering how much you truly lived in his home and how much he truly had to give you. He thought he made sure you wanted for nothing—but, clearly, that wasn’t the case. And if he’d known you’d be gone in the span of a few years…
In hindsight perhaps he’d been a bit distant. His work took up the vast majority of his time. All those meals were more often than not spent in silence, with Crocodile leaving long before you finished your food; you were often asleep before he came to bed, still slumbering when he woke; he’d arrive to those formal events with you on his arm and part ways almost immediately, drawn to meet with some politician or another and leaving you on your own.
The bed feels empty.
And then he gets a report about Nefertari Vivi. It all goes downhill from there. The empire he spent years building crumbles beneath his feet, toppled by that godforsaken princess and the upstart pirate with a straw hat. And as he’s carted off to Impel Down… he still thinks of you.
It’s perhaps a good thing that you left when you did. In a certain sense it saved you, severing ties with him when you did. But foolishly he wonders about the timing—wonders if it would have happened at all if you’d stayed. Logically he knows the rationale is anything but sound.
Instinctively… whenever he gets out, whatever he intends to do next, he thinks he needs you at his side again.
So when the break-out happens, and Crocodile is given a freedom he’d nearly given up on, the first thing he does is begin to track you down.
It takes more than he thought it would. His web of informants isn’t half of what it once was, and his name no longer pulls as much weight, forced to remain in the shadows as he now is. You, meanwhile, catch onto the mystery person trying to keep tabs on you far too quickly for his liking—flighty thing, never quite setting down roots, quick to flee at the first sign of danger. A trait that has only seemed to worsen in his absence, it seems.
But it’s only a matter of time. He’s Sir Crocodile after all, back from banishment to the depths of the ocean, sure to see the sun again. His men close in on you within a year as he builds up his numbers again, but Crocodile ensures he’s the first to make contact.
He intends to show you immediately how things will be different this time.
You’ve made temporary home on a quaint little island, sharing a house with a little old granny who lets him in eagerly when he presents a bouquet and says it’s for you. There he waits, served tea and biscuits that he doesn’t taste.
And then the door opens. You pause when you see him, eyes wide—donning a breezy sundress you’d never have worn for him in Alabasta, your hair wind-tousled so unlike the meticulous updos he always saw you in, with a basket of produce under arm—and the sight of you has his chest unwinding. It’s like he can breathe again.
Not that he had any intentions to before, but the smell of your familiar perfume steels his resolve to never let you disappear again.
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back2bluesidex · 1 year
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Oh So Reluctant - PJM (18+)
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Pairing: Husband!Jimin X Wife!Reader
Theme: Angst, Arrange marriage au.
Summary: For the past eleven months that you have been married to Park Jimin, he has not looked at you the way he has been doing today. And there is sinister in his eyes.
Word count: 1819
Warnings: Angst, unhappy married life, Jimin is cold, reader is lonely, mentions of alcohol consumption, sexual tension but no smut for this part (yes there is a second part, it's a twoshot), brief Taehyung X Reader.
Minors are NOT welcomed in this blog!!
A/N: This story was requested by lovely @chimmy-licious.
As mentioned before, this is a twoshot, so there will be a second part, I just don't know when haha!
Part 2
****************
You check yourself out in the elevator mirror. 
You look perfect tonight. Just as you always wanted to look for an event so important to you. Saving a month-worth of your paycheque, you customized this cherry red dress for yourself. The wrap pattern of the dress gives an alluring view of your collarbone and cleavage while the dangerous slit ends in the middle of your right thigh. You decided to let your hair loose and matched your lip shade with your dress.
You look sexy, you look hot, you look beautiful and you look lonely. 
You know what’s waiting for you ahead. The worst part is not people bombarding you with questions about your husband’s absence, it is how pathetic you are gonna look while you accept the best employee award and there will be no one of your own to clap for you. The worst part is also how you are going to hopelessly stare at your colleagues as they dance with their partners tonight. 
You braced yourself up for all of it in advance but somehow tonight you feel less confident than you thought you would. Not having someone to share your special night with, is certainly painful but having someone and not mattering enough to them, hits on a different level. You are a victim of the latter situation. 
Your husband, Park Jimin, is always busy. Well, you can’t really expect anything else from the CEO of one of the leading entertainment companies of South Korea, making him the youngest person ever to gain that position. The responsibilities he has makes him even busier and you understand it all. You understand, that is why he is so reluctant towards your presence in his life. Even though you are his wife, it is still an arranged marriage, held against Jimin’s consent. 
When you met him once before your marriage he clearly told you not to expect anything from him as he is marrying you only for his mother’s wish. There was no malice in his voice, it was just cold. And he has been cold to you ever since. Not that he has any business being any warm to you. 
He didn’t marry you for any business-related convenience. He married you because his mother thought her golden son will end up marrying some girl from the industry and she read news on famous people getting divorced almost every other day. She met your mother at the church, they became friends and worked their ways on being relatives. 
You, a perfectly contained human being with a stressful but nice job, had to cave in to your mother’s wishes because she was worried that her overly-independent daughter may just end up alone, which certainly wasn’t your plan. 
You always wanted to settle down in your career first and then look for a partner, make a home and then kids etc etc. so, when your mother approached you about Jimin, you saw no reason to revolt. But you were disappointed when Jimin told you he wasn’t ready for this marriage and it’s only his mother's wish not his. 
You tried to talk to your mother about it but it all went in vain. 
Both of the ladies were too adamant to get you two married, they threatened to go for a hunger strike otherwise. 
And now you are here. After exactly eleven months and two days of your marriage, you are unhappy and you feel alone more than ever. Jimin never pays you much attention. For the first couple of months you tried to be friends. You cooked dinner, planned dates, gave him gifts but never received anything more than a “thanks” with a tightlipped smile in return. Rather he appeared to be quite uncomfortable about it all, so you stopped trying and stayed away. 
A week ago, you handed him the invitation card of your company’s annual day celebration. You told him it would be nice if he attends, since you are going to be awarded as the employee of the year. He only nodded and said, “I have a press conference that day. I don’t think I can make it. But…” a pause, “congratulations anyway.” 
Your heart broke, tears threatened to spill but you gave him a smile.
For the first time in your married life, you realized that you like your husband and not having him beside you on your special day not only made you feel lonely but also destroyed you. But then again, you can’t make someone love you if they don’t. 
The elevator dinged, signaling you have reached your floor and you prepare yourself for faking excuses and smiles. 
***************
You take a sip of your red wine as you stare at the trophy, which has made itself quite comfortable on the bar-top. 
You should have been on cloud-nine by now, you should have been drowning yourself in drinks, getting wasted and being happy but you are doing none of it. You are definitely happy but not as much as you should be, not as much as you thought you would be. 
You take another sip and that is when someone places a hand on your shoulder,
“Congratulations, milady” says a voice right beside your right ear. It’s Taehyung.  
“Hey. Thanks.” you whisper, without even caring if your voice is audible to him or not. 
“Oh? What is it? Why do you look so down when you should be twerking in the middle of the dance floor?” Tae pouts. His remark makes you laugh. 
“I am happy, Tae. Just a little tired.” you reply wearily. 
“I don’t think so, draling. What is it? Is it your husband?” Tae asks, scooting closer. 
You don’t say anything, choosing to stay silent. 
“That’s why you should have accepted me when I asked you out for like five times in two years.” Taehyung warps a hand around your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. You let yourself relax in his touch. 
Taehyung is incredibly handsome, he is nice, funny, charming and rich. And he is very much interested in you. However, you never saw him as anything more than a friend and colleague. So, you kept on declining his advances. Moreover, you aren’t brave enough to date the CEO’s son and then let people talk behind your back saying that you slept your way up. But today you let your mind wander, today you give it a thought. Maybe if you chose him instead of giving into your mother’s wish, you would have been happy? Maybe you would fall in love with Taehyung eventually? Maybe Jimin would be with someone he actually liked, instead of getting stuck in this relationship with you? Maybe? Just maybe? 
Your mouth runs before you could think it through, “will you accept me now? If I were to divorce my husband and come to you?” 
You catch Taehyung off guard with your question but he quickly gains his sanity back and smiles, “I will.” 
“Will you mind staying a bit away from my wife?” the voice comes from beside you. You know the voice, you know the owner. It’s your husband, it’s Jimin. 
You twist your head at the speed of light and see him standing right beside your barstool. There he stands like the Greek God he is. His perfectly sculpted body is draped in a purple suit accompanied by a purple silk dress-shirt that has its first few buttons opened. His dark hair falls on his eyes, making him look much more appealing than he already is.
You catch him glaring at Tae’s arm, which is encircled around your shoulder. Is he jealous? But why? 
You suppose Tae noticed that too, as he unwraps his hand from your form. 
Jimin now looks directly into your eyes. There is a darkness in his eyes that you never perceived before. Something that makes chill run through your spine. You try to comprehend the situation. You try to think if you are hallucinating or not because there is no way Jimin would actually be here. 
“Sure man. She’s all yours.” says Tae as he gets up from his bar stool and proceeds to leave you two alone. No, you are not hallucinating. Both you and Tae can’t hallucinate at the same time. 
You part your lips to say something but you are immediately interrupted by your co-worker. 
“Y/N! Why won’t you receive your calls? Mr. Park was looking for you like a lost puppy.” says Hyun Mi. 
“Oh? I was… ah distracted.” You reply somehow, avoiding the ice-cold glare that your husband is giving you now. Thanks to your misery, you completely forgot you carried a purse and that had your phone inside it. 
“Very sad. Mr. Park you could have watched your wife receiving her trophy if you came thirty minutes earlier. Anyway, enjoy.” she says again before getting lost into the crowd. 
Jimin walks towards the seat Taehyung was sitting previously and sits down. 
“Congratulations” he says, you nod. You don’t look at him even when he sits closer than he ever had. 
“I thought you had a press conference to attend today?” You ask quietly. 
“It ended early so I came.” Jimin says while waving to the bartender and placing his order. 
“You didn’t have to.” 
“Why? Are you annoyed that your plan of divorcing me got interrupted?” Jimin chuckles. It’s probably the third time in eleven months that you are hearing him chuckling. But this time it’s because of you, and it’s dark, filled with malice. 
You don’t say anything. 
“Who was that guy? Your ex?” he asks again. 
“No. He can be my future though.” You reply calmly, as if you are suggesting something as casual as dinner menu. 
“What makes you think I will let you go so easily?” Jimin places his next question. 
“Your reluctance towards my existence?”
“I am not reluctant towrdas you, Y/N. I am rather very much aware.” Jimin raises his voice a bit.  
“Aware of how much you don’t want me in your life?” 
“No! Quite the opposite actually.” 
That makes you take a look at him, finding him already staring at you. You cock your eyebrow as if to ask for an explanation.   
If you expected him to say something then you are wrong because he changes the topic right away. 
“You look very… beautiful tonight.” Jimin rakes his eyes through your body, which seem to come to a halt when they reach to your chest and then drop down to your exposed thigh. You cross your legs and expose more of your skin as you catch him staring shamelessly. 
He smirks. One of his hands reaches to grab the supple flesh of your thigh harshly. You almost spit your drink out. 
“Don’t tease me, Y/N. I have been having a tough time controlling myself for these eleven months already.” Jimin’s voice drops down a few octaves as his thumb draws invisible circles on your thigh. 
Your eyes widen but you try to play innocent, “What do you mean?” 
Jimin’s fingers glide higher on your smooth skin and it reaches where you have only imagined his fingers before. 
His digits hover above your mound as he mouths, “Let me show you what I mean.” 
*****************
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie
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| I just want attention! |
Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader (Requested!)
Asking Toji for a divorce.
Word Count: 1.5k
CW: SFW, domestic mostly fluff and some angst, happy ending.
A/n: TYSM to the anon who requested! I'm not very experienced with writing angsty stuff so if it's bad my apologies. (Also tag: @chilichopsticks)
From the moment you met Toji, he was nothing but a gentleman to you. Maybe that was why you fell so hard and so quickly, so that when he was on one knee with a ring you didn’t hesitate at all after only a few months of being together. 
He always swept you off your feet, when you got off work he picked you up and took you wherever you wanted to go. He always tried to make you happy and spend as much time with you as possible, buying you flowers when you got a promotion and taking you to an early screening of a movie from your favorite franchise, were only a few of the many things he would do often for you.
All he asked for in return, was for you to accept him, faults and all. He had made mistakes in the past, and still worked as an assassin, which was the only job he felt he was well suited for. With you in mind, he quit his gambling habit. After so many loses he finally got some sense knocked into him and decided to saved up his money, so that the moment the two of you tied the knot you wouldn’t have to work at all. 
To most, Toji was seen as arrogant, if not invisible since he kept to himself, something that you never understood. On the day of your wedding, you were picked up in his arms and carried directly to the car, where he drove the two of you to your honeymoon destination right after the ceremony and fuss was over. Two weeks of hot springs and relaxing in a small town awaited you, where your husband doted on you more than ever. Every morning you awoke to a sweet kiss on your forehead, and warm arms engulfing you, making you wish you could sleep forever in the comfort of his protection.
You made sure to snap plenty of shots of walking around to the different shrines and temples, and your husband wearing a yukata which he realized he was rather fond of. By the end of your trip you were more in love with him than ever, and even more ready to embrace a wonderful life as his wife in your new home. 
Somewhere in your heart you knew that feeling might not last forever, the butterflies you got every time Toji was around you. But everyone always said the honeymoon phase lasted at least a few months… not the length of the actual honeymoon. Nothing your family and friends had said about marriage prepared you for this reality, that the fade to normal life would be so sharp.
By the time the two of you got back to the house, your husband was already heading right back to work as usual. You kept yourself busy with unpacking all the boxes and setting things up around the house, but in a way that only made getting used to a routine harder. Toji didn’t come back for four days, being on a job he got unexpectedly. 
His quick call barely did anything to calm your nerves. He was always so careful about telling you about his work before the two of you were married, trying not to worry you. Of course you knew Toji was strong, and you tried not to doubt him, but you could barely sleep from thinking about it. Now living with him you could feel his absence by the empty side of the bed and the single plate of food on the dining room table. 
As soon as he was back, you were overjoyed by his presence, almost thinking that feeling you were missing had returned. But, it wasn’t for long. No matter how many hobbies you took up at home, or how many friends you made in your new neighborhood, the absence of your husband would always bother you. When he was right in front of you, he was still the gentleman you always remembered, who you loved with every ounce of your being. But when he was away, you couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about you as much as you did about him. If he even missed you, he was gone so often for his assignments. As weeks turned to months, it blurred into routine and so did the wall that started to grow between the two of you.
That day, you had finally had enough. After contemplating it in your head for a few weeks, you realized that the two of you were still relatively new into your marriage, and you could still probably get your job back even if things changed. Of course you still loved him, and you couldn’t imagine your life without him, but right now, that was almost what you were living. He got less and less affectionate every time he came home, and it was too stressful to have to worry every day that he got home safe in a job that you didn’t fully understand, as he couldn’t tell you much for your own safety.
You had promised him you would stay by his side for anything, but he had done the same for you. And right now, neither of you were anywhere near each other. Toji had no idea you had taken up watching the neighbor’s kid after school some days, or that you baked a fresh loaf of bread at the start of every week, something he was never there to try. You didn’t know where he was or sometimes for how long, not getting much more than a promise that he’d come home safe. 
“Smells good, what’d you make?” Toji inhaled deeply as he walked into the house. For the first time in your marriage he was home on a Monday, bread making day. “It’ll be ready soon,” you referred to the loaf sitting on a cooling rack. You forwent the normal welcome, though you did it so rarely that it seemed to go unnoticed. Making a cup of coffee to go with a slice of the bread, you shifted you feet uncomfortably, making Toji watch your movements carefully. “Thanks,” he muttered, grabbing the bread off the plate while you sat down in front of him. 
The two of you sat in silence. Starting it off with that question felt far too daunting. “Y’know what, I was thinking we should take a vacation,” he started, “for a week or two.” You lifted your head up to look at him. “Haven’t done that in awhile, huh,” he groaned, hand rubbing his neck at your bland expression. 
He dropped his hand and sat up straight when he saw your face change. Your eyes, usually so cheerful and lovely, looked only of pain as they flooded with tears. “Toji, you know that I love you, I…” he watched you carefully as you spoke. “I… just can’t do it anymore,” you started to breath deeply, turning away to avoid your husband’s eyes. 
Toji grabbed your hand softly, encouraging you to squeeze it back as he listened. “I love you too, okay? Just talk to me,” he muttered, trying to decrease the tension though he knew in his gut what you were going to say. Clearly it had been on your mind for a while, you just wanted to get it over with. “I miss you, a lot, but I know you’ve got your work and everything,” you grasped his fingers, pressing into them lightly. “But I just don’t know what I’m doing here, aside from worrying about you. I’m not even doing anything for you.”
Tears flooded down your cheeks as Toji reached up to wipe them away with his thumb. “Maybe we just shouldn’t be together,” as much as he was prepared for your words, they still hit him like a ton of bricks. If only he could express how special every moment the two of you had together was to him, and how excited he was to make new ones. “I love you, okay? I didn’t marry you for nothin’, remember that.” 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I don’t want to be without you, but my work takes me away a lot.” Toji frowned, realizing your apprehension to fall into his arms was something he should have noticed beforehand. “I’ll quit, I’m serious. I just want you to be happy, okay? I don’t want to get divorced.”
“It’s not just that, it’s-” he tucked you into his chest. “You’re right, just calm down and we can talk about it,” you nodded against the fabric of his shirt. “I just want some attention, it’s like we don’t even know each other sometimes,” you whined, wrapping your arms around him as well. He smiled as you brought your head out, face dry of tears but still a bit pink. “I want to learn everything about you, yeah? Like how’d you get so good at baking…” he bit off a chunk of bread, now room temperature and slathered in butter. 
“This isn’t the time for joking, I just told you I wanted to get divorced,” you sulked as Toji laughed. “I’m just glad you changed your mind,” he let out a sigh of relief. “I still want to talk about this, but let’s leave it off for a bit,” he held you tighter, “I’d rather relax before I have to tell Shiu I’m quitting…”
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duuhrayliegh · 5 months
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equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)
a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!
if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!
anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE
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“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”
“That’s the problem!”
He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.
“You don’t understand me anymore!”
“Understand you?”
Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.
“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”
Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.
“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”
There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.
“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”
Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.
“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”
You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.
You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.
Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.
You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.
“Commando’s. How can I help you?”
The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.
“Hello?”
It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.
“Bucky?”
“Peanut?”
“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."
"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"
You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.
"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"
Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.
"I'm okay?"
Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"
You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.
On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.
On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.
“Peanut? Come on back to me."
“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.
“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”
“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”
No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.
“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”
You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.
“There she is.”
The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.
“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”
"Don't diners always serve coffee?"
"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."
"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.
Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.
And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.
You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.
"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"
An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.
"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.
A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.
He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.
Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.
"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"
A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.
"Yeah, thought as much."
"It's just all becoming too much, I think."
An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.
“Who's your friend, Jamie?"
Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.
"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."
Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.
"She's also my mother."
“Oh!"
He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.
“Your mother?”
Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.
“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”
There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.
"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.
"Sorry, just took me by surprise."
"Clearly."
Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.
"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"
Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.
"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"
You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.
"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."
Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.
"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."
You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.
"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"
"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"
"I want you to be you."
"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."
"I can't do that."
Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.
"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"
"No."
"Why?"
"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."
"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"
"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."
Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.
To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.
"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."
A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.
Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.
However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.
"I just want you to be happy."
"Do you think you could make me happy?"
"Absolutely."
You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.
"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."
"Will you be home for family dinner?"
"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"
Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.
"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."
"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"
You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.
"You just gestured to all of me."
You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.
"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"
Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.
"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."
"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."
Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"
He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.
"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"
You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.
"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."
You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.
You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.
"You ready?"
This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.
"Hold on tight, spider monkey."
You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.
City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.
His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.
Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.
"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.
The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere fun!"
He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.
Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.
He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.
"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."
You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.
"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."
He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.
As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."
You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.
You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.
On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.
"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.
Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.
A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.
"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"
"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.
"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."
You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.
"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.
As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.
You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.
His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.
It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.
"Why bartending?"
The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.
"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.
You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.
"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.
Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.
"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"
It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.
"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.
Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.
“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.
“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”
You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.
“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”
Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.
Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.
You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.
“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”
The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.
“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”
“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.
“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.
A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”
Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.
“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”
Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.
“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”
Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.
“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“
Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.
“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”
It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.
“And who the fuck is this?”
“I’m the guy.”
He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.
“What guy?”
“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”
The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.
“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”
He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.
“Apologize, Johnny boy.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.
“Thank you.”
Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.
“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”
He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.
“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”
“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.
“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”
You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.
“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”
You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.
If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.
The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.
“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”
He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.
“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”
You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.
“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”
He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.
You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.
“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.
Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?
“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”
His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.
“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”
A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.
You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.
Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.
Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.
You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.
You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?
You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.
It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.
With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.
Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.
350 notes · View notes
alanagrey · 6 months
Text
Dark Bucky Barnes One Shots
ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪs ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪsᴛᴜʀʙɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs.
✸ indicates my personal favourites, but all the below fics are absolutely fantastic.
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◌ One Shots
Two Graves, by @highonmarvel
→ [no description]
Cut, by @boxofbonesfic ✸
→ [You haven’t been having the best luck on dating apps, but you’re willing to try again]
disturbed, by @twjournals
→ [leaving the woods did nothing to keep the darkness from following you home]
Concrete Jungle Rapunzel, by @imanuglywombat
→ [You spend your days locked in a gilded cage, high above the concrete jungle, waiting for Bucky to return]
Doctor, Doctor, by @honeyhan-123
→ [With a bullet in his arm, Bucky seeks medical attention and a certain surgeon catches his eye]
What You Can’t See, by @honeyhan-123
→ [Bucky doesn’t understand how you could think were were just a one night stand]
R U Mine?, by @cryptidcasanova
→ [You made the mistake of falling for the mysterious stranger you met in New York. Unfortunately for you, you never asked about his line of work]
Goosebumps, @cherienymphe
→ [Living with your roommate was a dream come true…until she met Bucky]
Ten Steps, by @darkthallas
→ [A home intrusion by The Winter Soldier that doesn’t end so well for you]
After Party, by @xxindiglow
→ [Bucky doesn't take kindly to rejection]
Til Death Do Us Part, by @cherienymphe ✸
→ [after your arranged marriage has served its purpose, you bring up the inevitable topic of divorce. It is only then do you realize that you and your husband might not be on the same page]
swimming pools, by @sgt-seabass
→ [Bucky pays you back for your time as his contact by teaching you to swim]
You Can Cry, @highonmarvel ✸
→ [Biker!Bucky takes a liking to a sensitive girl]
You Know Better, Don’t You?, @xxindiglow
→ [Bucky doesn't like being told to move on. Ex-boyfriends are a pain in the ass]
blackout, by @our-destiny
→ [no description] [He was always watching. Everywhere you go he was always there keeping an eye on you]
Warm, by @highonmarvel
→ [Vampire!Bucky saves you from a car wreck]
Dumb Bunny, by @lunarbuck
→ [The Wolf sees you walking through the forest on your way to your grandmother's house, and he just can't help himself]
Take Me Home Tonight, by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
→ [You run into a familiar face while working]
You’re My Obsession, by @navybrat817 ✸
→ [You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve]
Best Man, by @navybrat817
→ [Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier]
Send Me An Angel, by @navybrat817
→ [Bucky thinks you’re an angel]
Run Like Hell, by @navybrat817
→ [You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though...and you’re not getting away from him that easily]
Caught in the Sirens, by @straywords
→ [After getting away from your ex, you spend the majority of your time looking over your shoulder. When Officer Barnes then takes a special interest in your case, it seems too good to be true]
Tempest, by @highonmarvel ✸
→ [The storm brewing outside is nothing compared to the one in here]
Polaroids, by @highonmarvel
→ [You find out your boyfriend’s into photography]
HR, by @highonmarvel
→ [Your ex has made sure you’ll never get a job in NYC again, but you’re determined to keep your head above water. Just as things are getting too bleak to bare, you meet James Barnes]
Himalayan Salt, by @highonmarvel ✸
→ [You’re assigned to a notoriously grumpy war vet, but he’s different with you]
[From] Run All You Want, by @angrythingstarlight
→ [no description] “Where is my wife?”
Hell could freeze over, by @straywords
→ [Bucky sets out rules and you set out to break them]
205 notes · View notes
vampykween · 10 months
Note
All I can think about is your toxic husband ghost. Like what are they gonna do now?? Is ghost going to move out?? Is she going to force him out?? Or will she leave with the kids?? This man better get his groveling hat on cause he's got some begging to do LMAO
oh he’s definitely a fucking twat and puts up a fight about signing the papers. he swears up and down that he’s going to change! he’ll get on his hands and knees and beg you for just one more chance to prove he can be how he used to be.
you’re stubborn and say ‘absolutely fucking not’ and so he hits you with ‘alright then, how do you plan on moving out when you’ve not got any money’ and oh shit! you forgot about the fact that serving the papers was not the only hurdle. simon would definitely hold this over you head and use it as a way to keep you from actually leaving.
you two work out a deal where he has to sleep in the guest bedroom (you’re momma of course you get to keep the primary room to yourself) and you tell simon he has to figure out how to work less because you want to start working again - you’re gonna need a ton more money than your measly savings if you plan to get your own place. simon is not very keen on this idea. what do you mean he should work less? you’re good at being home with the kids and he’s good at barking orders and blowing heads off. that’s just the way it works. you annoyingly remind him that if he wants you to even consider rescinding the divorce idea he has to actually make real sacrifices for the family.
you’re torn on the decision of custody with simon. you hate the idea of going to court and making this process any more painful, but you don’t feel comfortable just leaving your kids in the hands of simon for long periods of time and you not being there (a clear reason you definitely should not be married to this man anymore). you also don’t want your kids to know anything is wrong but also toddlers are more perceptive than they seem.
i’m not sure any amount of groveling could fix this disaster of a marriage, but maybe if simon tried hard enough, you’d entertain the split second of a thought about fixing things with him.
154 notes · View notes
therealcocoshady · 5 months
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Recovery - Chapter 36
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Eminem x Female Reader Fanfiction
Synopsis : Reader and Em celebrate their first Thanksgiving together and she finally meets Kim.
MARSHALL’S POV 
-FLASHBACK- 
The last thing Marshall expected was to get married again. After his second failed marriage to Kim, he swore he was done with marriage, and that he was done with her. He still loved her very much but he had to admit it eventually : it was never going to work between the two of them. Letting go of her and of their relationship was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do (even getting sober seemed easier than this), but he knew he had to, at least for the sake of his daughters. Every time they got back together after a breakup, the girls got their hopes up and it was heartbreaking. Plus, they were growing up and already smarter than their parents. It wouldn’t take long for them to realize that they were struggling, constantly cheating on each other, abusing substances… They simply couldn’t keep going on like this. When he got out of the courthouse after their second divorce was final, he swore he would never get married ever again, much less get back with her. And yet, more than a decade after, he was standing in a chapel with Kim, a minister and Paul as their witness. It wasn’t your usual wedding. In fact, it could barely qualify as a wedding. There was no service, no white dress, no guests… It was probably the best kept secret in America. Save for Paul and the minister, no one knew they were tying the knot again, not even his daughters. In fact, they were the last people he wanted to find out. They would never understand why their parents were getting married again. The first time, they got married on a whim, right before a tour. Kim had pressured him to propose because she feared he would be unfaithful while on tour (which eventually happened). The second time around, he actually pressured her into accepting when he proposed on the occasion of the fifteenth anniversary of their first date, only to file for divorce after less than ninety days of marriage. This time, though, that had nothing to do with love. He was marrying Kim out of necessity. She had tried to off herself, once again and, this time, she almost succeeded. If paramedics hadn’t been remarkably quick to save her, she would have left four children behind. Marshall was distraught by the thought that his kids could lose their mother. He knew he had to step up and do something. Especially when he was the one to blame in the first place for her substance abuse. 
Kim was a bit hard to convince this time, when he suggested they get married, but she ended up agreeing that it might make sense. If he was her husband, he would be able to make medical decisions and if, God forbid, something had to happen to her, it would be his responsibility to take care of her funeral, estate and her son’s upbringing. Otherwise, it would fall onto his daughters to do it all and care for Parker, but they were far too young for this. Kim didn’t love him anymore but she had always relied on him and his support when it came to her health, so she accepted. None of them were especially happy to tie the knot again but, at least, things would be taken care of. 
They got married in the utmost secrecy, Paul being the only person they knew who was aware of the wedding. Of course, the manager tried to dissuade him from marrying Kim again, but to no avail. The whole thing was expeditive : it took ten minutes, both of them wearing sweat suits and sneakers, no rings, going their separate ways after. Him leaving for a studio session in California, her going back to her rehab center. 
After that, they didn’t see each other for months, though they often spoke on the phone. They didn’t really mention being married again, save for a couple of jokes about how it might actually be their most successful attempt at a marriage. Maybe it was the best kept secret after all : you can be successful in marriage if you don’t love your spouse, don’t live with them and are only in this for practical reasons. They also didn’t really worry about a potential divorce. They had signed a prenup that would make it easy but they highly doubted it would come to that. They were pretty adamant about never getting married ever again (for real this time), to anyone else. They’d been broken up for a while and they didn’t love each other like that anymore, but they were in agreement that it would be unlikely for any of them to fall in love again, with anyone else. She wasn’t in a psychological state to date, and he was unavailable emotionally. As far as he was concerned, music was the only lady he was committed to, and he could make do with one night stands. When your relationships with women have been failures, you start to resign eventually. So he was at peace with his decision. It wasn’t like he wanted to be in a serious relationship with someone ever again anyway. 
-END OF FLASHBACK-
He never really expected to regret marrying Kim for the third time. That was until Y/N walked in his life and things became more than serious between the two of them. At the beginning, even though he was head over heels in love with her, he sort of expected things to blow up between the two of them, so he didn’t bother telling her he was married. And sure enough, that’s what happened : they broke up because they were not in agreement when it came to the future, namely the topics of marriage and kids. He was distraught when she left but he didn’t blame her : she deserved to be happy and to have all her dreams come true. He knew he could not marry her and give her kids anyway. Letting her go was hard, but he loved her enough not to stand in the way of her dreams. But, by some divine miracle, she came back to him and their relationship got serious pretty fast. They even moved in together. He knew he probably should tell her, but he could never find the right time. First, they got back together, then some drama ensued when she learned that his assistant almost blew him a few days earlier, then they went on vacation with his family, then they almost broke up because he was a trauma-ridden asshole… He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want to lose her. He could have gotten over his guilt by telling himself that no one else knew anyway, but when she mentioned him not being married to Kim anymore, he could barely ignore it. He knew he would have to tell her eventually, and hoped that she would understand. Because there was no way he could live without her. She was the one he wanted to grow old with. She might very well be the love of his life. So much so that, if he hadn’t been married to Kim, he might have considered proposing. That’s how in love he was. But for now, he could only pray everything would go well for their first holiday together. 
Y/N’s POV 
It was your first Thanksgiving with Marshall and you were happy to spend your first holiday together as a couple, after an eventful week. It was your first time seeing his brother and his family as an official girlfriend and, most of all, you were finally going to meet Kim. You knew you didn’t really have anything to worry about - Marshall had been pretty adamant - but you were starting to feel nervous as she walked through the door and you set your eyes on her for the first time. She was much taller than you, rather charismatic. There was something about the way she carried herself that made her sort of impressive. 
Hi ! You must be Y/N ! I’m Kim. It’s so nice to finally meet you, she said in a friendly tone. 
You too, you said shyly. 
Marshall stroked the back of your hand before greeting her. Their daughters were here, as well as Parker, Kim’s son, which made things less awkward. Nate and his family arrived too and the house was soon filled. It was a laid back atmosphere and Marshall seemed happy to have the people he loved around him. He was joking around with his brother and his nephews, whom he hadn’t seen in a very long time. They also remembered you and seemed happy to see you. 
Uncle Marshall ! Is it true that you have a girlfriend now ? Carter asked. 
It’s true, Marshall beamed. 
Hard to believe, huh ? Nate chimed in. The old man finally found someone to put up with him ! 
Where is she ? His nephew asked in excitement. 
I’m right here, you chuckled. 
Wait… I thought you were Hailie’s age, Liam asked with a hint of confusion in his eyes.
This is going to be fun, Nate said with a huge grin. 
Everyone was staring at the two of you with smirks on their faces. You blushed a little. You absolutely weren’t ashamed of your age difference, but you knew Marshall was a little more prone to this feeling. Also, there was something a bit unsettling about a child confronting you about it. 
Well, uh… I am Hailie’s age, you simply said. But sometimes, grown-ups fall in love with people who are a bit older. Or younger.
Yeah, but Uncle Marshall is like… really old, Carter said. 
Why, thanks, buddy, Marshall replied with a grin. So you expected me to end up alone or…?
No ! I figured you’d make friends at the retirement home, Liam shrugged. 
Everyone burst into a fit of laughter. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and you could resist pecking his cheek. « I’m not that old » he muttered grumpily. Everyone hung out together and, once again, you proved bravery was not your strong suit. You methodically avoided standing anywhere near Kim. She was towering around six feet and you were feeling ridiculously small next to her. And she was definitely impressive, with some sort of mysterious aura. She was nice but, at the same time, keeping to herself and, whenever she spoke, she had some sort of sultry voice. For the first time ever, you felt conscious about your own voice and accent. Up until now, you had managed to stay sane and reasonable but you were starting to wonder what Marshall saw in you. You were not like Kim at all. Were you even his type…? Even Tracy had more in common with her. You, you were younger, nowhere near as charismatic either… To add to your misery, Kim even managed to make Marshall laugh. They obviously had their own inside jokes. Hailie, Alaina and Stevie seemed happy to spend the day with the two of them, though, and that was obviously the most important thing. 
I have a present for you, Stevie told you. Well, you and Dad, actually. 
I didn’t know we were supposed to exchange presents, you said shyly. 
We don’t, she giggled. And it’s nothing fancy ! But I hope you like it ! 
She handed you a small bag and you sat on the couch to open it, Marshall by your side. It was a photo album of gorgeous pictures she had taken with a disposable camera during your family vacations in Europe. There were a lot of candid shots of you and Marshall, that you hadn’t noticed her taking in the moment. One of the pictures was printed out and put in a frame. 
I thought you might want to have at least one picture of the two of you on display in the house, she said. 
You hugged her, almost emotional. It was a really beautiful shot of the two of you in Capri. It was taken from the back and Marshall was holding you and kissing your temple. You had spent a day on the island while you were in Italy and you absolutely loved it. You looked at the pictures in the album, reminiscing of your time in Europe. Some of them were really cute and sweet : Marshall sleeping on your shoulder on the jet, you, Hailie and Alaina drinking mocktails in Italy… Everyone looked at the photo and the girls provided commentary. 
We should really do this again, Alaina said with excitement. Europe was great ! 
It was, Marshall said with a smile. Maybe we could do that again. 
You got this man to travel and actually enjoy it ?! Nate asked you in disbelief. 
And she got him to reduce the amount of security, too, Stevie pointed out. We had a great time in Europe ! 
Who are you and what have you done to my brother-in-law ? Ashley joked. 
Is it Thanksgiving or is it “Let’s make fun of Marshall” day ? Marshall asked with an eye roll. 
Overall, you had a good day with everyone. You got to watch Marshall win his basketball game against Nate and everyone seemed to enjoy your cooking. Kim complimented you on your dish and joked that Marshall would definitely put on a few if you kept on feeding him french food. They joked around a lot and seemed like friends. In a way, they probably were. After all, Marshall had told you they met when he was fifteen and stuck together through thick and thin. After dinner, the whole family lounged in the living room, playing video games, drinking mocktails, talking… You had a great time with Nate, who made a point to call you his “favorite sister-in-law”, loud and clear right in front of Kim, who just rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear a thing. You didn’t really have the details, but you gathered they didn’t exactly get along. At some point, though, you realized that her and Marshall were nowhere to be seen. You did your best to appear unfazed. Once you were done, you stepped outside for some fresh air. You weren’t exactly big on gatherings and could feel a headache was on its way. You spotted Marshall and Kim talking from afar, seemingly having a serious conversation. At first, you didn’t think too much of it but jealousy poked its ugly head out when you saw her giving him a hug. You scoffed and went back inside, not willing to subject yourself to that. Hailie came to see you, making small talk. 
I wonder where Mom and Dad are, she said. Have you seen them ? 
I think they’re outside, talking, you replied with feigned ignorance. Do you want to go and get them ? 
It’s fine, she said. They’ve been out a long time, though. They’re probably talking about Christmas presents or something like that. 
You shrugged and quickly switched to another subject. The two of you went to the kitchen to make some tea and talk about what you could get Marshall for Christmas. She gave you a ton of ideas, which was pretty great. At some point, Kim and Marshall walked in and he chastised you for clearing the table and doing the dishes without him. 
You could have let me do it, he groaned. 
There it goes, Kim said playfully. Not a holiday unless Marshall gets grumpy. 
Not an actual day if he doesn’t get grumpy, you said with a smirk. 
Seems like you know him pretty well, she grinned. 
I don’t like this, Marshall sighed before pulling you to him and kissing your temple. 
They’re ganging up on you, Dad, Hailie warned. 
At least my children are nice to me, he said. 
Only because I need a favor, she said with a small smile. 
I knew it, he said with faux exasperation. What do you want ? Or should I ask how much this is going to cost ? 
Do you remember that one jacket that you had in one of your music videos ? I’d like to borrow it. We’re recording a new podcast episode soon and I have an outfit idea in mind, she said. 
Don’t you have your own clothes, though ? He asked with a smile. 
My followers love it when I pay tribute to you, she said. I’m merely indulging them. Please ? It’s Thanksgiving. 
Fine, he shrugged. But I’m going to need more details because “that one jacket from that one video” is a bit vague, Hay. 
Let’s just go look ! 
They went upstairs, leaving you alone with Kim. You were tempted to run away from the kitchen but it was impossible for you to do so without being painfully obvious. You were uneasy but she, on the other hand, seemed pretty comfortable. Why wouldn’t she, though ? She’d lived in that house for a while and she wasn’t new to the family either. She wasn’t the one out of place, here. You were. 
It’s, uh… It’s cute that she’s paying tribute to him in the podcast, you commented in an attempt to make small talk. 
It is, she replied with a smile. They have such a great relationship. He’s a great Dad. 
Yeah, he’s a great person, you said honestly. The best.
You’re all gushing, she teased. 
Sorry, you said awkwardly.
No, it’s sweet, she said. He’s really amazing so I’m happy he is with someone who sees it. 
I mean, he’s always been incredible to me, since we met, you confessed. 
About two years ago, right ? She asked with genuine interest. 
That’s right, you said. Our relationship is more recent, though. 
This, he told me, she chuckled. I probably shouldn’t tell you but he won’t shut up about you. 
Really ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 
Oh, absolutely, she said. I think he even told me about you before you started dating. But that stays between us. 
Only if you told me what he said, you replied with a smile. 
The first time he ever mentioned you was when you had that incident at the bar, she said. He was pissed and worried. I could tell you meant a lot to him, by the way he talked about you. 
Oh wow, you said. I wasn’t expecting him to tell you about this. 
He doesn’t tell me everything, don’t worry, she chuckled. I happened to catch him on a day when he was pissed about it and he ended up telling me. But I could see he liked you. You know, it’s not often that he falls so hard for someone. 
I guess I’m pretty lucky, you said. 
I’d say he’s the lucky one, she pointed out. Seems like you gave up a lot to be with him. I mean, you moved to another country.
Yeah, well… He’s worth it, you said. I tried being without him and I didn’t like that. 
I saw him when you were broken up and he didn’t like it too much either, she said. You’re good for him. 
You think ? You asked with genuine curiosity. 
Well, you’re the only woman who got him to do therapy, she pointed out. Tried for years and he never agreed to it. 
You were surprised he told her about that, too. It was definitely weird, discussing your relationship with his ex wife, but her attitude put you at ease. It seemed like she genuinely wanted him to be happy. 
I’m really happy for you guys, she continued. I also wanted to thank you for having me today. I mean, you could have refused to meet me or have me in the house at all, a lot of people would have, but you didn’t. 
You debated telling her you couldn’t have put up much of a fight even if you had wanted to, since Marshall didn’t really give you a say in the matter. 
You’re welcome, you said. It’s a family holiday, both of you should be able to enjoy it with your kids. 
I’m really glad you see it this way, she said. It looks like we’ll be seeing each other a couple of times a year for a long time, so I’m really glad we get along. 
You’re not at all like I imagined, you couldn’t help but say. 
Meaning ? She asked with a grin. 
I mean… You know. You’re nice. 
She let out a hearty laugh and placed a friendly hand on your shoulder. 
Did you expect me to be the mean ex-wife full of spite ? She asked with a smirk. 
No… I mean… Kind of ? You explained sheepishly. For the record, no one spoke ill of you. But I figured… You know, there’s history. And usually, ex-wives and new girlfriends don’t get along. 
Well, there comes a point in life where you just have to accept that things don’t work out, she said. I’ll be honest : I will always love Marshall. He has saved me in more ways than one. But I’m just not in love with him anymore, you know ? Now, we’re just rooting for each other to be happy. And if that’s any comfort, I was a bit anxious to meet you, too. 
Were you ? You asked in surprise. 
Of course ! He told me you were amazing, and I know the girls like you, but… you know. You’re still the first person he fell in love with after me. It’s the end of an era. I’m not proud of it, but I guess I sort of liked having this bond with him, she explained. But hey, I’m happy for you guys. I really am. I mean, you’re so much nicer than the last one I met anyway… 
Who was it ? You asked with curiosity. 
Tracy, she said as she rolled her eyes. I hate that woman. 
Just like that, the two of you were like old friends. Proof that no one gets people closer than hating on the same person if there was ever a need for one. There was no real depth to it, just Kim feeding you old gossip and hating on Tracy. You were giggling like schoolgirls when Marshall walked back in the kitchen. 
Everything alright ? Marshall asked with his eyebrows furrowed. 
Yes, you said with a genuine smile. 
I’m telling your lovely girlfriend what a terrible man you are. Just so that she knows what to expect, Kim said jokingly. 
Marshall glared at her, obviously not amused by the joke and she simply shook her head before going back to the living room, leaving the two of you alone. 
She didn’t say anything, you reassured him. 
What’s with all the giggling then ? 
Secrets, you chuckled. You’re right, she is pretty cool. 
Mmmh, he said with a small frown. 
He seemed pretty preoccupied, as if he were actually worried that Kim might let something slip. However, you didn’t pay it too much attention. You’d had a few talks about how abusive he’d been in the past, and you figured he just didn’t want you to be reminded of that, especially when you’d gone through a rough patch. You took advantage of no one being in the room to pull him in for a deep kiss. 
I’m so in love with you, he said. 
I love you too, you said. I’m so glad we’re celebrating our first Thanksgiving together. 
Me too, he replied. I can’t even tell you how happy I am that you get along with my family. Nate told me earlier how great he thinks you are. You’re so perfect. I’m so blessed to be with you. 
So… Am I on the list of what you’re thankful for ? You mused. 
You are the list, he said before kissing your forehead. 
The two of you went back to hang out with the others. Everyone was sitting on the couch while Stevie was showing them something on her iPad. 
You guys are just in time for my yearly presentation, she said with a smile. 
Shit, I thought I managed to miss it, Marshall chortled. 
What presentation ? You asked. 
Every year on Thanksgiving, Stevie tried to guilt trip us into adopting pets from the shelter she volunteers at, Nate explaied. 
They need a home, she pointed out. 
As long as it’s not my house, Marshall said with a grin. 
We usually get out of it by donating a bunch of money, Alaina said. 
You sat on the couch, curling on Marshall’s side as Stevie did her presentation, starting with dogs. Then, she got to cats and, as soon as you saw the first one, you fell in love. It wasn’t a cute kitten you would have expected to swoon over. It was a thirteen year-old cat with feline dwarfism that gave him a grumpy look. He had a few patches of missing hair and wouldn’t qualify as a beautiful cat but there was something about him that drew you in. 
Oh my God, he is adorable, you said. 
Adorable ? That… thing ? Marshall asked with a grimace. 
Have you seen him ? You asked him with love in your eyes. 
Have you ?! 
He’s old, and he’s grumpy, and I love him already, you said. 
Old and grumpy… I think that woman has a type, Kim said, causing everyone to laugh. 
Marshall looked at you while you made eyes at him while whispering “please, please, please”. After a few seconds he sighed and agreed. 
Alright, he sighed. I guess we’re getting a cat. But please give him a cool name. I can’t have a cat with a stupid name like “Fluffy”. 
It should be rap-related, Alaina suggested. 
I like that, Marshall said. 
How about Mew Tang Clan ? You asked. Or Wiz Catlifa ? He looks like a Wiz ! 
Ok, Marshall chuckled. Anything you want. Let’s go for Wiz Catlifa. 
You jumped at his neck and kissed his cheek, feeling like a kid on Christmas Day. He wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your temple. You’d had a shitty week but you were incredibly happy, with the man you loved by your side, who agreed to go to the shelter with you the following week. 
Eventually, after a while, everyone left. Kim was the last one to say her goodbyes. As she went through the door, she turned to Marshall and looked at him with a smile. 
Oh, and, Marsh ? You’re off the hook. Happy Thanksgiving. 
You had no idea what that meant, and you figured out it was one of their inside jokes or something like this. You were just happy that everything had gone smoothly. Plus, you actually like Kim and were happy to get along with her. Marshall, however, seemed a little puzzled. He nodded silently. 
You were all relaxed as you went to bed. The nerves had drained you out from your energy.
Are you alright, babe ? Marshall asked as you rested your head on your pillow. 
Tired, but I had a good time. I can’t believe we’re getting a cat ! You said giddily. 
Only you could make me agree, he chuckled. When our last cat died, I swore we wouldn’t get another one. But if it makes you happy… 
It does, you said with a smile. I love him already. Have you seen him ? 
I have. You picked me so I knew you had bad taste but this… This is ultimate proof, babygirl, he chuckled. 
Shut up, you said with a pout. I won’t have you speak ill of our cat. 
“Our cat”, he said pensively. I like the sound of that. It’s like starting a little family with you. 
You giggled and nuzzled his neck, placing a small kiss there and prompting him to pull you closer to him. 
You’re all romantic, you said. 
You’re worth it, he said. I love you.  And the whole family fell in love with you, it seems. 
Did they ? 
They did, he nodded. Even Kim. I don’t know how you did that, honestly. 
Maybe she’s just pretending, you said. 
I don’t think she is, he said intently. Whatever. I’m just happy they like you. 
You nodded and nuzzled his neck. 
Happy Thanksgiving, my love.
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redrose10 · 5 months
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Here is alternate angst ending number 1. This is how Cinnamon & Vanilla was initially planned to end before I went in a different happier direction. For this to make sense basically forget that chapter 17 and the proposal happened and chapter 16 ended with Suri getting arrested and Mia coming back into the picture (I hope that makes sense). I will post the other angst, but less angsty version next.
WARNINGS: Very small hint of smut, cheating, character death, funeral, allusions to suicide, a suicide note, swearing. Please proceed with caution if any of these things are hard for you. There will be a second alternate ending posted next that is less harsh if you’d rather read that.
Word Count: 2,257
You watched your father-in-law slam his fists down on the large oak table. “I will not stand for this Yoongi.”, he shouted. Across the table your husband smirked, his mistress Mia, sat next to him with a sly smile.
“Father, there’s nothing you can do or say to change my mind. I am divorcing Y/N and will marry Mia. I’m done being used as a pawn for your corporate gains.”
After Mia and Yoongi were reintroduced they became inseparable. Or it was more like Yoongi was infatuated with his former love thinking he could finally have the life he always dreamed with her, but all she wanted was his money and famous last name. You and everyone else could see it except for him.
His father scoffed, “You think this woman loves you? Yoongi, she left you once before. What makes you think she won’t do it again? I thought you were smarter than this. Y/N cares for you, more than she should in my opinion. She’s done more for you than most and will be a good companion.”
You looked over and made eye contact with your husband. His eyes softened, but yours turned cold. In your mind your relationship was irreparable. The first few weeks after meeting Mia he tried to pretend like nothing was going on, but you saw the signs. The purple marks on his skin that he tried to hide. The faint scent of a floral perfume that would surround him when he got home in the middle of the night. It all came forward when one day you stopped by his office to drop off some lunch. When you knocked on the door you heard a loud thud and some shuffling and when you pushed open the same door you found him in his chair slightly out of breath with his hair ruffled like someone’s hands had been running through it. When he stood up to thank you for the lunch the zipper of his dress pants was noticeably still pulled down. You knew in that moment that you were done and you were no longer going to try to even pretend to save the marriage.
Jin happily helped you build a case against his former friend rounding up all the proof of the infidelity on Yoongi’s side so that hopefully you could get your in laws to agree to a divorce. You were surprised when it seemed that Yoongi had beat you to it and that’s how you ended up here.
Yoongi cleared his throat bringing you back to the present. “Y/n and I are divorcing. I broke my part of the contract therefore she can be the one to file. It’s not up for discussion.”, he spoke.
Mr. Min turned red with anger as he watched Yoongi walk towards the door hand intertwined with Mia’s.
“Yoongi, if you walk out of here with that woman you are no longer considered a son to me. You will step down as CEO and you will loose all access to any of the family money. You will loose the houses and cars. Everything! And don’t you dare come running back when that gold digger leaves you again.”, Mr.Min was out of breath and red in the face. You were getting worried for his health nervous he would have a heart attack. Yoongi continued to walk out the door pulling Mia behind him. She now appeared to be hesitant after Mr. Mins threats. You’re soon to be ex father-in-law gave you a small nod before walking out the same door. Jin who had been silently sitting next to you the whole time squeezed your hand, “Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll have the best divorce lawyer in Seoul.” You smiled trying to hide your pain.
Jin wasn’t kidding either. The divorce was quick and simple. Yoongi seemed to want to be done with everything as fast as possible. You got a very large sum of money plus one of the penthouses and a couple cars in exchange for keeping quiet and not going to the media about anything that happened between you and the Mins. You ended up selling the cars and the penthouse, instead buying a cute apartment just outside the city that was much more your taste. You kept some of the money as a savings and then donated a chunk to various charities that were close to you.
At the paper signing Yoongi barely acknowledged you which you appreciated. As you watched him sign the papers signaling the end of your marriage you felt a strange heaviness in your heart, but you were determined to not let the darkness of Min Yoongi follow you. You did your best to move on and leave that part of your life behind you. Getting a job and making some new friends. You did your best to create your new normal.
It was late one evening when you sat at your kitchen table replaying the last few years in your head. Startling in surprise when you felt a hand on your shoulder you turned to find your fiancé Hoseok or Hobi as you started calling him when you two met up in Korea after he’d quit his waitressing job at the beach hotel and moved back home. “Sorry love, I didn’t mean to scare you.”, he said placing a kiss on the top of your head before taking a seat at the table next to you.
“It’s okay. I was just thinking.”, you chuckled.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
Shaking your head you poured him a glass of water.
“It was a really beautiful service.”, he spoke.
“Yeah it sure was.”, you said trying to suppress the tears.
“It was surprising that his parents showed up. I know not many people thought they would. Seeing Jimin and Jungkook there was nice too.”, he said. All you could do was nod in agreement.
“Well I’m gonna head off to bed. Don’t stay up too late and come get me if you need anything”, he sighed before leaning in for another kiss which you happily reciprocated.
After he walked into the bedroom and you were sure you heard the door close you pulled out the envelope Jin had given to you after the funeral. Your name written beautifully on the front.
Not long after your divorce was finalized Mr.Min stayed true to his word. Yoongi was forcefully removed as CEO of Min Enterprises. He was cut off from all the family money and was only left with what he had already earned. It didn’t take long for Mia to go through what he had left. When she realized that she wasn’t going to be living the lavished life of a billionaires wife she was fast to leave him. Quickly marrying the son of some Australian cattle farming tycoon. Jimin had quit working for Yoongi not long after he started dating Mia exclusively. He swore it had nothing to do with you and that he just got a higher paying less stressful offer elsewhere, but you knew better. Jin quit working with Yoongi and Min Enterprises instead opting to open his own law firm. Even Jungkook had quit and took a job in Los Angeles leaving Yoongi all alone. Yoongi’s parents refused to let him back into the company, but they did start funneling him a little money here and there to keep him afloat as that was better than your famous son being homeless.
You did worry about him no matter how hard you tried not to, even contemplating reaching out to him a few times, but you were worried it would only make it worse for the both of you. It seemed like every morning you were waking up to a new story or video of him belligerently drunk, getting in fights, leaving clubs with multiple women. He was completely off the rails again and didn’t seem to have a care in the world anymore. The last video you saw of him he looked like a zombie. You knew he must’ve been living off of whiskey and cigarettes at that point and it was only a matter of time until something bad happened.
Then one morning last week you got the call. Jin was on the other end and you could just tell by the way his breathing was uneven that he didn’t have good news. He didn’t have much info, but promised to call you with the details of the funeral as soon as he knew them.
When you arrived at the church you were greeted by Jimin and Jungkook the two wrapping you in a hug. Mr. And Mrs. Min said hello and congratulated you on your new engagement. When you finally made your way over to Jin he smiled, “They found this on his bed. Has your name on it.” Gently you took the letter placing it in your bag for now as the service was about to begin.
Now back at your apartment you sat at the kitchen table staring down at the envelope. With shaking hands you gently unfolded the paper. Some parts were a little smudged thanks to the ink getting wet and drying again. A detail that definitely didn’t go unnoticed by you. A small sob escaping you as you thought about what Yoongi must have been thinking in that moment. You took a deep breath and began to read,
“Dear Y/N,
If you are reading this then it means that everything went according to my plan. I guess I just have some things I want to get off my chest and admittedly I’m too much of a coward to say them to your face or even to call you. Plus, I know if I hear your voice I’ll change my mind about this. First I want to apologize. I know I’ve done that a lot and never seemed to really mean it, but I am sorry for everything. You never deserved any of this from the start. You deserved to fall in love with someone that was capable of truly loving you back, but that couldn’t be me when I didn’t even love myself. Someone who would be there to take care of you emotionally and physically. I regret that I could never grow up and be that person. I heard that you are engaged. Congratulations. I hope that he takes care of you well and makes you as happy as you deserve.
I have reached a point in my life that is just so low I don’t think I could ever recover. What even is the point of life anyways? I guess I’ll never know. I don’t know what went wrong either. I was once a happy kid who loved music and basketball, who wanted to travel the world, who wanted to get married and have a bunch of kids. Now I’m sitting in my bathtub alone with a bottle of cheap whiskey writing a letter to a woman I never loved, but can’t get out of my head. They say you never know what you have until it’s gone. I always thought that was a bullshit excuse that people used to make themselves feel better about their choices, but I now know that it’s true. You were the best thing that could ever happen to me and I threw it all away. You were loving and kind, generous and thoughtful, loyal. You were so much when all I did was try to hurt you. I am truly sorry. I hope that your life brings you everything you’ve ever wanted and one day you’ll completely forget the name Min Yoongi. But until then I hope that maybe hearing or speaking my name won’t bring such disgust to your tongue. Maybe in the next life we can try this again. Take care of yourself Y/N.
Best regards,
Yoongi”
By the time you were done the letter was soaked with your own tears. You folded up the paper and put it back in the envelope before gently placing it in the kitchen drawer. Your heart broke for the man that was hurting so badly. You felt a slight pain of guilt that maybe there was something else you could’ve done, but in the end no one was able to help him. You were thankful for Hobi who came into your life like a big ray of sunshine bringing light and warmth. You smiled as you placed his coat in the closet, his cologne still strong with the smell of jasmine quickly surrounding you and reminding you of the new chapter of your life.
Turning to walk to the bedroom a piece of paper laying on the kitchen floor caught your eye. It wasn’t there earlier so you figured it must’ve fallen out of the envelope from Yoongi when you opened it. Shuffling over to pick it up you started laughing as you read it over,
“Thanks to your generous donation to Perry’s Sheep Farm we are able to continue rescuing sheep in need across the world. As a special thanks please see the attached photo of one of our sheep that your generous gift has helped.”
“He just couldn’t let this fucking sheep thing go.”, you chuckled. You shook your head letting out another laugh as you pulled out the Polaroid. As hard as you tried you couldn’t prevent the tears from flowing once again as you fell to the floor clutching the photos to your chest. Smiling back at you in the photo was a big fluffy sheep with a bright pink bow on the side of her head. The lettering across the bottom said, ‘Petunia’, written in Yoongi’s handwriting. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but you swore you could detect the faintest hint of cinnamon and vanilla in the air.
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