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nymphl · 5 years

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In the General’s Bed - Regency Hux x Reader - Ch. 1 - To love a General

A/N: Hello xD Decided to update In the General’s Bed to here as well. It’s a Regency story set in England, 1815. So it will contain historical elements and important figures of that time. I truly hope you like it xD

Story Summary: The General is cornered… Upon returning from a successful campaign in Battle of Waterloo, Armitage Hux knows he has no excuses left; he must produce the much-needed heir. The problem is, when the two of you parted five years ago, it was not in the best of terms. Now, he may not find his wife, you, so willing as he first expected, nor keen on taking part in any of his political games. [Hux x Reader – Hux x You – Regency AU].

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 Tags: Regency Era; Alternate Universe; Alternate Story; Alternate Universe - Historical; Arranged Marriage; Politics; War; Napoleonic Wars; England - 1815; Married Couple; OOCness; Smut

Wordcount: 6589.

NEXT CHAPTER

Southampton, 1815.

“MAMA... A HORSE! IT’S A HORSE!”

A small smile crept to your lips at the boy’s excitement. He squirmed in your arms, trying excitedly to stand up on his bouncy legs and move away from you. That and the trotting sound getting closer and closer made you look up.

Definitely not the actions of a boy excited because of a drawing of his favorite animal in a lost paper in the middle of a children’s book.

As soon as your eyes settled on the source of the boy’s happiness your own vanished.

The smile died in your lips.

It was clear the boy was happy because he saw a real horse. And he simply loved horses. You were sure he would be a great rider — greater than his talented father — when his time comes.

With him still squirming in your hold — he had no idea how dangerous horses could be to a creature as small as himself —, you kneeled on the picnic blanket and glared at him. He was usually a very sweet and well-behaved boy, but he got too excited around huge animals.

“Behave, will you, little Lord?”

He pouted, and if he were any other child, he would have cried. But he was too damn stubborn to cry — just like his father. His big, round and chestnut eyes stared at you with some sort of resentment. He simply hated to be told what to do.

Contrary to most people, you were not affected by this and rose to your feet. Smoothing the fabric of your mousseline dress, you pursed your lips into a thin line.

The visitor — the horseman the boy heard — was not a welcome one, which was kind of ironic, considering he was your estranged husband.

“Stay here.”

“But—

“Lux, do I need to remind you I don’t like when you complain?”

His eyes were full of tears now. He did not cry, however. Too damn stubborn. Too sweet to upset you further with a whiny behavior. Biting your bottom lip — you regretted your tone; you were too harsh with him —, you ruffled his ginger hair and smiled reassuringly at him before stepping away and closer to the stranger entering the property.

“I am sorry, Mama.”

His apology went by unheard by you. Your heart was thundering in your chest and the now stronger breeze did not help your hearing in the least.

Breathe, Y/N. Just breathe.

You told yourself you would be ready for this confrontation a hundred of times. Yet, as the years went by without a word from him, you grew sure he was as good as dead. He was, after all, at the War and people died at Wars. Even though skilled — a General, responsible for his own Battalion and held accountable for numberless victories for the Empire —, he could have fallen. The greatest warriors fell eventually, and Armitage Hux was but a man.

Turns out you were not ready.

You doubted you would ever be.

Feelings of resentment, anger, disappointment, abandonment all filled you, leaving you on the verge of tears. But just like the tiny boy you held in your arms seconds earlier, you were too stubborn to cry.

Biting the inside of your cheeks, you waited for him to dismount and look at you.

He didn’t.

Well, he did dismount his horse and held its reigns tightly in his left hand; the right removed the Wellington hat covering his neatly combed ginger hair before he bowed head towards you in a gentlemanly gesture.

“Lady Hux…”

You stood there, agape, for what seemed like hours.

He was different.

Very different from the man who left you so many years ago. Long gone were the beard and the shoulder-length red hair.

Albeit older now, he looked younger. And paler… and slimmer.

Realizing that you took too much time looking at him in eerie, awkward silence, you closed your eyes and mimicked his gesture. There was a lot you wanted to tell him and even more that you wanted to ask — why did he left without a word, why did he stay silent for five long years, why did he hate you so much? —, but you stopped yourself as you heard the sound of not only more horses trotting, but of a carriage approaching as well.

Of course, he was not alone. It was stupid of you to have thought so.

He arched one light eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer. Embarrassed for messing up the etiquette rules expected of you — a Marquise none the less —, you bowed dutifully.

“My Lord... It has been…” You bit your bottom lip and kept looking down as etiquette demanded, even if you wanted to shoot him dead with your eyes alone. “A long time.”

“Indeed,” he replied; his voice calm. It was not needed to be a genius to know he was looking past you. If his curious intonation was of any indication…

Quicker than a lightening crossing the skies before a storm, Lux ran to you, hiding behind your legs. You could feel his small face against the fabric of your dress, his hand pulling it as he demanded silently to be held in your arms.

“Mama! Who is—

“Lux, what did I—

“Lord Hux, it’s good to see you back and well.” A soft, but firm voice reached the three of you. The boy looked up at the familiar face and outstretched his arms. Rae Sloane did not get him in her arms, instead, she offered her hand and gestured towards the house. “Come along, Lux, it’s time for supper.”

If it was any other talking to him, he probably would have said I don’t want to in a whiny tone, but he never said no to Rae Sloane. Well, you doubted someone ever did. If there was someone the boy both feared and respected, she was certainly the one.

You smiled in spite of yourself.

Rae was not a mother, but she was gifted with children. She never raised her voice nor needed to act harshly; children respected her without any of these subterfuges. The same could not be said about you. As much as Lux loved you, he had a penchant for trying out your patience and defying you whenever he felt like doing it.

“Is he mine?”

His whispered voice dragged you back to the present moment. The smile, once again, died in your lips. You shifted your eyes and stared at him as the answer slipped past your mouth in an equal tone.

“No.”

You did not wait to watch his reaction before you headed to the house. You did not want to watch the judgment in his blue eyes before he even knew the truth. You left all that was taken to the picnic behind; the servants would take care of them as soon as possible.

Without casting a look over your shoulder to see if he was following you — he wasn’t —, you climbed the old wooden staircase with a weak resolve. Your heart was once again thundering in your chest and you were not so sure of the conversation that was to follow. The fact he expressed no loud reaction — always so composed and self-controlled — had you even more nervous.

Soon, his firm steps echoed behind you. He seemed taken by your dry answer, but he did not prevent you from walking away from him and actually dictating where your first words — after five years of estrangement — should take place.

You chose the study and headed to where the whisky was stored. If you were to have this conversation — you knew how mad he would be once he knew the truth — you would rather have some alcohol involved.

He closed the door behind himself, one eyebrow arched as you swallowed the brown liquid in one big gulp.

You opened your mouth.

Nothing came out.

“Is he mine?” he asked once again. His tone was calm, his eyes cold. They betrayed nothing of what he truly felt. If he did feel something. Sometimes, he looked more machine than man.

“No.”

It was your only answer.

Part of you wanted to tell nothing more. Part of you wanted — longed even — to toy with his feelings — did he feel anything at all? — and let him wait — five fucking years — for your answer. Part of you wanted to scream at him and ask why.

…Why no words…

…Why no missives…

…Why no visits…

And mostly, why only cold and sterile silence while you worried yourself to death over his life.

But part of you could not take it any longer.

You poured more whisky in your glass, but before you could bring it to your mouth, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. The glass fell to the floor, but neither of you paid it any attention. The loud crash was nothing compared to the sound of the blood pumping in your ears and your heart racing madly against your ribcages.

“Who is the father?”

His voice was getting impatient now. It was losing all traces of aloofness as he stared at you in the eye; his bluish orbs still cold but narrowed, which indicated at least a bit of annoyance.

The hurt, abandoned and betrayed wife — friend, he was your friend to begin with! Or so you considered yourself as such before he left without notice. It was clear to you he never thought of you too highly; being ten years older than you made him look at you in a condescending manner, and the fact that the two of you were locked in an arranged marriage only made matters worse. Still, you always thought you were able to get through him and understand a little better the man behind the military façade — in you made you wet your lips and raise your chin in defiance.

“Why?” You finally found your voice. “Are you mad?” You narrowed your eyes. “Jealous, Lord Hux?”

His fingers tightened around your arms, but not to the point of hurting you. He was always very self-conscious of his strength and never used it against you. In fact, he was a man who preferred manipulation over brutal violence. If he could make his enemies cower to the sound of his voice, he would. It did not mean, however, he would back down from a fight.

Skillful with both sword and gun, he never retreated from a battle, no matter how lost it seemed to him.

He tightened his jaw and let go of you. Walking around the room, he stopped closer to the decanter, but he did not move to pour himself a drink. His arms were behind his back as he considered his options carefully — considered what to say. When the next words left his lips, you almost choked.

“Lux, you said…” He was back turned to you. He was emotionless and if you did not know him well, you would have said the matter did not affect him in the least. “If I am to raise a bastard, I ought to know whose bastard I am raising.”

You gasped.

Suddenly, the fact he was bothered by the entire situation did not matter at all. You approached him in small steps, your hands reaching out to him and retracting at the same time.

“He is not mine either,” you whispered. He did not look at you, but the fact he had tilted his head to the left a little indicated he had heard you. Even so, you spoke again, “I am not his mother.”

If the General seemed more at ease after your attempt at reassurance, he did not let it show. With his back still facing you, he served himself some whisky and brought the glass to his lips. A scoff left him as he looked at you over his shoulders.

“Brendol Hux would say it’s fitting…”

You furrowed your brows, not getting his meaning.

“It’s only natural that a bastard like myself would raise someone’s else bastard.”

You bit your bottom lip, now heavily regretting your silence. You should have said Lux was not yours when he first called you Mama. You should have reprehended him like you usually did.

This was a sore topic for your husband. You knew it. You knew it better than anyone, having been his friend before you were his wife. Nonetheless, your feelings clouded your judgment. If you were to be honest with yourself, you would admit that his pain would bring you some joy.

You were not usually like this. You had been taught compassion and kindness were the best solutions to almost every situation, but you were only human, and you had reached your limits.

“I already said I am not his mother.”

“Then, who is it?”

That was what you feared the most. It would be a greater blow to his pride to know you were currently not only hosting his rival’s son, but actually raising it, than the knowledge you had slept and had had a child with another man.

“Lord Dameron.” You looked at your feet. “As in Poe Dameron…”

There was silence for a moment.

If your blood was not pumping so fast in your ears, you would have heard him exhaling sharply; would have seen him squaring his shoulders and pursing his lips into a firm, thin line.

“That does not explain the red hair.”

Your head moved so fast your vision went black for a moment. You took a moment to adjust to the sight of the study room around you before you spoke, “Well… It comes from his mother.” You were sure of his next question, so you got ahead of him and continued, “She died in childbirth.”

“The boy believes you are his mother.”

“He doesn’t.” The reply was quick in your lips. You looked down as you saw his dusty shoes approaching you. He stopped in front of you as you explained further, “He knows I am not his mother, however, he loves me as if I were.”

His fingers in your chin made you hold your breath.

“And you love him back.”

You pursed your lips, preventing you from telling him something he would not very much like to hear. In the past, you would not have hold yourself, but you knew the man from the past. This man in front of you? You had no idea who he was. He was no better than a stranger.

Some months were sufficient to change people, five years were more than enough to change someone completely and turn friends into enemies.

Lovers into strangers.

“Should I not?” You stared at him right in the eye, not bothered in the least with the unreadable expression you saw in his bluish orbs.

He let go of your chin and stepped away. Not far to outstretch an arm, but distant enough give you an analytical look.

“The boy should be with his father.”

You scoffed at him. Who was he to decide anything concerning the boy’s life?

“His father visits whenever he can, which is more than I can say about you.”

As soon as these words left you, you placed both hands over your mouth, horrified with your own bluntness. Part of you expected him to strike you — and you were already prepared for a busted lip or something like that —, part of you was sure he would never lean a finger on you.

You reasoned the old Armitage Hux — your friend, your lover — would not harm you under any circumstances, but you also knew this was not the same man from the past. This was your husband and you did not know your husband.

Instead of a slap, he assaulted you with his silence.

You fisted your hands and took a deep breath. Opening your eyes, you saw him walking towards the door.

He was leaving.

He was leaving you without a word.

Again.

You could take anything but it.

“Five years…” you whispered, drawing his attention. “You could have visited.” You could have written, you thought. You chewed your bottom lip, controlling the urge to cry. Never in your life you felt to exposed and so hurt. “Fuck, Armitage!” You felt the first tear rolling down your face. “You could have said you were leaving!”

His answer was quick this time. And so detached that putting a knife in your heart would have hurt less.

“It would change nothing.”

You dried your tears and turned your back to him. Looking at the windows, looking outside, usually helped you calming your nerves. That and alcohol, but you were already dizzy and you were not about to get drunk because of him. He would not have this much control over you. You told yourself you were emotional not because he was back after five long, silent years, but because you were nearing your period and that made your control over yourself slippery.

“How come?”

From your place, you heard him placing the glass over some flat surface and stepping closer to you. It made you straighten your back. He invaded your personal space and you held your breath. When his hands ghosted over your shoulders and arms, you felt your heart stopping for a moment before it raced like wild horses. His fingers traced your fisted hands, loosening your own fingers and entwining them together.

“I would have to be gone anyways.” His voice was a mere whisper in your ear. His right hand moved from yours to your throat and then your chin, forcing you to stare at him.

“I know…” you whispered back, staring right into his blue eyes. They had always been gateways to his soul in the past, when you were both younger, but now… Now, you could see nothing. There was a saying that War changed people and seeing him now… You could not say you disagreed with it. “But it would have changed everything for me.”

It would make you worry less, you could have added. And it would make you feel less dejected… Less abandoned. It would stop you from wondering if it were you who drove him away or if it were something none of you could have done something about.

“You have always hated farewells.” His voice was even lower as he buried his nose in your hair. You sucked in a breath and leaned against him involuntarily. The tip of his nose moved from your locks to behind your ear and finally your neck. He planted a small kiss there.

Your nostrils flared. You inhaled the air, inhaled him. Even if he had changed drastically, appearance and behavior, he still smelled the same.

“I have missed you, (Y/N).”

His lips pressed against a small part of your shoulders that was not covered. His tongue slithered past his mouth and tasted your skin.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You fought not to close your eyes and give in.

Five years was a long time to forget — to forgive — in five minutes and with some kisses. A flirty behavior and some whispered, sweet nothings in your ears would not change how hurt you felt for half a decade.

“I hate to be left in the dark even more,” you finally found your voice. Your shaky legs forced you away from him as you walked further closer to the windows. He took a step towards you and you flinched. “Stay away from me.”

If he was displeased with your behavior, he did not show it. He seemed more like resigned. He took a few steps back and suddenly, you heard the door cracking open. It was not needed to look at him to know he was leaving you alone.

You fought the need to tell him he was not dismissed, as you could have done considering your social position above him. Granted, he was your husband and even though he held no nobiliary title, society deemed him above you and besides your rightful owner.

Gritting your teeth at that, you remained with your head held high, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you in such state of distress. When you did not hear the door closing, you looked at him over your shoulder. He wetted his lips and when your eyes clashed together, he finally spoke; the venomous words making you hate the day you had first met him.

“When you are done feeling sorry for yourself and behaving like a spoiled child, we can have this conversation.”

“Sleep tight, Lux.” You kissed his brow and adjusted the blankets over his chest. It was crystal clear he was quite sleepy, but he fought it with every fiber of his being and kept his chestnut eyes wide open. “I will see you tomorrow.”

He yawned and involuntarily his lids fluttered closed.

You tapped his little nose before leaving the room. You felt your heart race when you met with the straight face of Rae Sloane. She had a knowing aura all around her and you could not help but gulp.

“I am giving you no details,” you lost no time to say. Keeping your hands at your back, you walked towards the stairs, towards the dining room and ultimately, towards your husband.

She raised her eyebrows but said nothing. It was clear she already knew everything from your refusal to share a single information. You huffed in despair. Sometimes you hated this woman to guts. Her quick-witted mind and analytical abilities usually — always — left you entirely at her mercy.

“Are you having dinner with us?” you asked, looking at her out of the corner of your eyes.

“Do you want me to?” she answered with another question. Her straight face gave away nothing, but you have lived for long five years with her to know when she was having fun at someone’s expenses. At your expenses.

“I’ve never known you to ask rhetorical questions, Rae.”

She shrugged, her hands placed behind her back. She behaved just like Hux, which annoyed you to no end. Or he did behave like her, considering she was the one to raise him and teach everything he knew…

You opened your mouth, but she bet you to your game and shook her head. In fact, you would have said she glared at you, her dark eyes hiding nothing of her disapproval.

“Why not?”

She raised her brows as if it was difficult for her to believe you.

“You are his wife; your marital problems are none of my business, my Lady.”

“But…” You closed your mouth. She had to help you. “You know him better than anyone.” You stopped on your way to the dining room and held her hands between yours. She was not a woman who enjoyed physical contact that much, but she learned over the years not to push you away. “Rae, you raised him! If there is someone who knows him—

She patted your hands between hers reassuringly. She never did that, and when she did, it meant that the content of her words would not be what you wanted to hear at all.

“Time changes people, (Y/N)… Being in a War zone for five years changes them forever.”

You swallowed.

She was right. You knew that. She knew what she talked about. This War… she had seen it close by. She had been engaged in it. For as much as Wars were forbidden territory for women, there was always a Rae Sloane out there who defied everyone and everything to act by her beliefs.

“He could have come back...” You whispered, barely acknowledging defeat. “Lord Dameron comes back from time to time.”

She snorted.

“Can you even hear yourself?” Her tone was edgy; she had no qualms putting you in your place. “Lord Dameron is not a General. There were not thousands of lives hanging on his shoulders, even if that cocky brat would like to believe otherwise.”

This time, along with saliva, you had to swallow your pride.

“Now, let’s eat.” She gave you her back and started making her way towards the dining room. “If I have to endure your whiny and his sulky company, I would like to do that with warm food and good wine.”

Dinner time was ridiculously silent. The two of you stared at your own plates and Rae took her time analyzing you both. It was clear to you she was taking her sweet time and getting every bit of information she could about you and your relationship.

What was not clear as of yet was if she would play on your team or his… Given their proximity, you would say she would stand by him, but… She had lived with you for five years and you would like to believe the two of you formed a bond during this time.

However, Rae Sloane was a clever woman and she never did anything without considering all variables. If she was to team up with him, she would have good reasons to do so. It does not mean you would take it lightly. A betrayal was a betrayal after all.

You chewed your bottom lip and stared at her. She was thoroughly focused on your husband and when you looked at him, you noticed he was staring at you. His impossibly blue eyes completely on you.

A shiver ran down your spine.

In the past, you would have died for his attention — whatever bits of it he decided to give you; you would even beg for it and put yourself in all kinds of situations just to be the sun in his life — but now… It did not make you feel any comfortable.

Not for the first time, you had to agree with Rae. Five years, indeed, changed people. The man to your left, regarding you with some sort of… curiosity and renewed interest that you could not quite decipher was not the man you knew; the friend you worshiped.

As time went by — and after the third glass of wine — you were openly staring back at him and the fact that Rae could side with him did not bother you that much anymore. You were barely aware of the fact she was watching you both.

He was… different.

Very different.

There was no other way to put it. Before — before he left for the War —, he had a thick ginger beard and shoulder length-hair you loved to run your fingers through. You still recalled how it was to kiss him, when the two of you were merely engaged and hiding from your strict father, and entangle your fingers in his locks and later how he would brush his lips — and his beard — along your neck and shoulders. Always a sucker for the rules, he never went beyond kisses and a few bolder caresses that never put you in a compromising situation.

There was no beard now and no long hair for you to entangle your fingers in. His pristine appearance made him look even more distant and unreachable. Cold.

However, what stood out the most were his eyes. His bluish eyes were so icy now. Calculative. There was no warmth left in them — now, that was not a word that you would usually associate to him, but even if a rare occasion, you had seen him looking at Rae Sloane with some affection in the past —, no fondness whatsoever.

Yet, that did not make him less attractive. He exuded power from his very pores. His movements were not missed by you, as you analyzed every inch of him. It was with some surprise that you realized that you were staring at his long fingers around his wine goblet and actually imagining how it would feel to have them running over your skin in a sensuous caress.

You shivered…

…and busied yourself with your own goblet. You drank every last drop of your wine and gesticulated for the footman to serve you with some more. You almost chocked when you noticed that you were alone with your husband.

Rae was long gone, and you did not see her leaving. The servants were also out of sight.

In silence, he rose to his feet and outstretched his hand to you. With your brows furrowed, you were not sure if you should accept his gesture or not. His words still stung; part of you was not ready to forgive him for that either.

However, a small, rational part of you, knew that if the two of you were to reach an understanding you would have to let go of your grudges and listen to him — at least try to.

If those five years were hard for you, you could only imagine what it was for him.

“I am sorry…” You bit your bottom lip. “I am sorry for my reaction earlier. My behavior was… inexcusable.”

He did not say anything, not to agree nor to disagree with you. You thought that it was to be expected. He was never a man fond of small talk, you reasoned that he would not start taking a liking to it now.

With a defeated sigh, you placed your hand on his and let him pull you to your feet. This time, when his face came closer and his nose touched yours, you did nothing to stop him.

“All these years…” he started, his voice low; his breath caressing your face. He brought his left hand to your chin and held you in place, forcing you to stare at him. His eyes were still distant… still unreadable. “There was never a day that I haven’t thought of you.”

Your heart raced at his words — that was closer as you would get to an apology for not having contacted you —; you felt conflicted. Part of you wanted to pull away, the other half wanted to pull him closer. His eyes were focused on your lips, and you found yourself closing your lids and acting by instinct.

Not very sure where to put your hands, you grabbed the lapels of his navy-blue tailcoat and pulled him down. He was taller than you and you had to stand on your toes to reach his full lips.

A moan left you as your lips met. A small caress. A mere brush. But after five years away from his touch, you were starved, and the very feel of him against you was enough set you on edge. His hands were stationed at your waist, pressing you against him, leaving no space between your bodies. His tongue caressed your bottom lip, seeking entrance, which you gladly conceded.

From there, you were not sure who dominated the kiss — if you or him, it did not matter, it was pleasurable both ways. He probably did, for he was a sucker for control. Your fingers brushed against his chin, before they entangled on his short, pristine hair. You almost chuckled in his mouth when he grabbed both of your wrists with one of his hands and moved them away from him.

He parted from you, his eyes intensely focused on your face. This time, you did not look away as expected from you, but you were about to bit your bottom lip when you felt his thumb caressing it earnestly. His right hand moved from your waist upwards, forcing you to suck in a breath. Your tongue brushed against his finger and his eyes darkened a bit.

“I have thought of you as well…” you admitted, your breath coming out in short gasps, “every single day… every waking hour. I was worried sick when you never came back.” He stopped caressing your bottom lip and tried to step away. You held him by his wrist. “Why haven’t you come back, Armitage?”

Instead of giving you a straight answer, he crashed his lips against yours in an overpowering kiss. He backed you against the dining table and smothered any thought of complaints. You kissed him back, surprised at how much intensity he could print into such gesture. With a gasp of surprise, you broke away from him when you felt his fingers tracing the line of your shoulders. His mouth quickly assaulted your exposed skin, covering the same ground his fingers just had covered a little bit earlier.

“I want you,” he whispered before bestowing your earlobe with a kiss. His voice was husky. Needy. It sent a jolt to your core. “I want you now.”

“Here?” you whispered back, fighting the wave of arousal that washed over you. It made you shudder. You bit your bottom lip and tried to think rationally. “Someone can see us.”

He paid you no attention as he sent all the tableware to the floor and forced you to sit over the wooden table. With his fingers entangled in your hair, he quickly removed the pearly clips your lady’s maid had put there before, letting your locks fall on your shoulders and back. You expected him to assault your mouth once again, but instead he buried his nose in your hair.

“Yes, here.” His voice was still husky; his hands and yours — you quickly noticed — worked on his tailcoat, removing it. The pearly cravat and the waistcoat trailed their way to the floor as well. “I want you now, here… And I don’t give a damn if anyone sees us.”

His admission and the passion that emanated from him were enough to make you pull him down by his hair and force him into a kiss. You ran your fingers through his still clothed chest, working on the buttons on the way.

He shuddered under your touch.

Your mouth was busy with his when you realized his hand was inside your evening dress, smoothing the fabric of your chemise and hiking it to your thighs. His lips trailed your neck again and moved down, towards your exposed clavicle and the contour of your breasts.

Dammit.

You drew in a sharp breath.

This was going all too fast.

You could feel him everywhere. His smooth face — devoid of the beard you loved so much — against your chest as his tongue traced your nipples through the fabrics of your chemise and evening dress; his left hand on your waist holding you in place and the right inside your clothes, reaching to your most private area.

A long and delighted moan left your lips when his mouth enclosed around your hard nipple and his finger touched your neglected — starved for his attention, and for so many years, really — clit and rubbed it through the undergarments slowly, as if showing how he would make love to you.

His touches were very… precise and thought-out. Even if he was passionate — more than you could remember —, intense, there was a part missing. His soul, his heart, was not in it.

And no matter how much needy you felt — famished and denied of his utter devotion and worship —, you were not blind not to see he was not totally into the act. Not the part of him you wanted — needed — the most.

This was all too much.

“S-Stop,” you muttered between short gasps. “I-I c… I can’t.”

He removed his mouth from your breasts and moved it closer to your own; his fingers, however, did not stop in their ministration, at least not until he had you withering under his touch.

You closed your eyes.

And your brain barely registered he had managed to somehow remove your undergarments and had inserted two of his fingers inside you, reaching as far as possible; his thumb sweetly pressed against your clit.

Your hands were on his arms, the nails digging deeply into his skin as he brought you to an earth-shattering orgasm. This time, he disobeyed your order and took your lips in an overwhelming kiss, smothering your moans.

He never stopped his caresses, not until you rode your orgasm fully. His tongue inside your mouth dominated you, indicating that besides making love slowly to you, he would take you fast and hard as well… It made you clench a bit more around his fingers, the wetness making it easier for him to keep scissoring you.

As soon as you came down from your high, you opened your eyes and stared at him, your bottom lip swollen and castigated. He removed his fingers from you and brought them to his lips, licking the traces of your orgasm clean.

“I was not ready for it,” you started out of breath.

Well, that was debatable.

You shook your head. Your body was more than ready for it — would it ever deny you any of the countless pleasures he could offer you? —, but your heart was not.

Not while you did not know if he was totally into it. And not only body. You needed body, mind, soul.

“You needed it,” he replied, tracing your bottom lip slowly. You could almost taste yourself. “Don’t deny me…” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “Don’t deny yourself, (Y/N).”

The way he spoke your name had you shuddering.

Somehow, you managed to find some strength in yourself and pushed him by his shoulders.

“No.”

He furrowed his brows.

“No.” Your voice was firm this time. “Not until I know why you never came back. It’s…” You bit your bottom lip, you wanted to cry. You always became a bit oversensitive after an orgasm and he knew it. “It’s killing me!”

He narrowed his eyes at you and moved away.

Long gone was the passionate man whose blue eyes promised to worship your body throughout the night; the man whose whispers admitted so openly to need you.

His back was facing you.

He had squared his shoulders.

But his silence remained.

No word left his lips. No words would.

“I was worried sick you had died… For months I…” You bit your bottom lip, you were about to cry and it ashamed you that you were about to admit how you were devastated that he had left without notice, but you had to make him understand how miserable your life had been all these years. He had to know! “For months I cried without knowing. Were you alive? Were you dead? Were you badly injured?”

You climbed down the table and smoothed the skirts of your dress.

“And then I started receiving offers for a second marriage. My father was gone— Your throat closed at the unwanted memory. Your eyes were glued to the floor, if you looked up you would have seen the somber look in his own blue orbs. “And I was the sole heir to his title and his lands… Every dandy said the love of my life was gone and I should secure my position through a new and beneficial marriage.”

He had no words when you were done.

“Did you hear me?”

He remained silent.

“Did you hear me, Armitage?”

He looked at you over his shoulders. His lips were drawn into a tight line.

“Love… such a meaningless word.”

Your eyes widened at his choice of vocabulary. Your heart stopped for a moment and your throat constricted.

“Do you love me?” he asked, and you noticed all too late he was invading your personal space. He touched your chin and tilted your head slightly back, forcing you to look at him.

You bit your bottom lip.

Before you could answer, he continued. His words low and sharp enough to crush your heart completely.

“Marriage is not about love, (Y/N). You should know that by now.”

A/N - I’ll update part 2 - To outsmart a General as soon as possible. If you never read this story and want to read all chapters posted so far there aren’t many xD, just go to my AO3 and you’ll find the rest of this story there. And if you want to be tagged, just let me know xD

#hux x reader #hux x you #armitage hux #general hux #regency hux #regency story #rae sloane #regency fanfiction #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux x you #in the general's bed #itgb #in the generals bed

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lubdubsworld · 7 years

Text

(Yoongi x Oc ) Tumblr Prompt.

Genre : unhealthy relationships. Married Au. A bit of an asshole yoongi. But he has his reasons.

Rating : Mature.

part 1/?

“Where are you?” his voice is scratchy, slightly rough and a little hoarse, like he’s been talking too much for too long or maybe he’s just been out in the cold winter weather without wrapping a scarf around his neck again. Or maybe he’d just woken up.

Where was he?

New york? Paris? what time was it there?

i glanced at the huge map on the white board near the drawing room, where i’d pinned post its to track his schedule as he traveled around to promote his company’s newest product. My eyes trailed over to the edge of Japan.

Ah, he was in Osaka.

“Y/N Can you hear me?” He said loudly and his voice momentarily jolted me. yoongi always had a really deep and booming voice and it’s effect on me hadn’t diminished over the many years we’d been married. A room full of men and Yoongi’s voice would still stand out, resonating inside my soul and making my ribs constrict around my lung, cutting off air.

“Y/n!!” He growled and I pulled myself into the present flinching at how loud his voice was.

it echoed around the empty living room of our apartment, jarringly loud from the phone’s speakers and making my heart pound just a little.

“Home. It’s twelve in the night. where else would i be? ” I said bleakly, grabbing the tin jar full of basil leaves and giving it a little shake before carefully wrenching the lid off. The small pan of water on the stove was already boiling and i carefully shook a handful of leaves into my palm, dropping them in the water before grabbing the phone off the hook .

“Alone?” There’s an edge to his voice, a subtle nuance that ought not to be there. that had no right to be there because he wasn’t the one sitting hour after hour, night after night in an empty apartment, waiting for a spouse who wasn’t there.

When he was the one breaking vows and treating me like shit. i wondered if he was sleeping with someone else. Had he gone to a bar, picked up a nice , pretty young thing with his impressive, “ i’m a pediatric surgeon, i save children for a living “ resume. i wasn’t bitter. i loved Yoongi. His profession was one of the most attractive things about him. He worked selflessly to help young kids who couldn’t afford regular medical treatment.

But I wondered who took the edge off, when his work became too much for him. it sure as hell wasn’t me.

So i wondered if perhaps he got it else where. you know.

Who was i kidding? of course he wasn’t. Min Yoongi was just too much of a ‘ nice’ man to cheat on me, but everything else he did, broke my heart. a million times over.

The apathy. The disinterest. That way he had of staring at me when i was trying to talk to him, like he just couldn’t wait for me to shut up. On numerous occasions, i’d stopped half way through a sentence simply because of how uninterested he’d appeared and cruelly, he wouldn’t even ask me to finish.

it ought not to hurt so much, after two years, i thought bleakly. it ought not to hurt because it was never a real marriage anyway. it was a transaction , an exchange of commodities.

it was like one of those political marriages in historical dramas, done for the greater good of everyone involved so by all means, it should not hurt at all.

But it did.

“why do you say that? You think i’m with someone? “ I said softly, exhausted at the unsaid accusation. At the injustice of it. i wanted to toss it back at him.

what am i being faithful to? It’s the vow you haven’t broken yet but what about all the other things you promised me? Where’s the love you promised?

" Don’t be absurd. i just wanted to know if mother is down to visit. she told me she wanted to see you. ” He sounded annoyed as well and lately it felt like that was all he felt for me : annoyance and irritation.

“Your mother wants me to get hit by a car.” i said simply and he took a deep breath.

“ stop demonizing my mother. She wouldn’t treat you that way if you could be a bit more filial. why don’t you go to her Circle meetings or help her with her charities. ? You were so fucking eager to marry me... can’t you at least take your responsibilities as a Min daughter in law, seriously?” He snapped.

a min daughter-in-law.

The most coveted position a young women in Korea could aspire to. The chance to be married to one of the youngest, most influential men in the country. A handsome, intelligent young man who held an unfair amount of power in his hands.

i wanted to run away, i thought with sudden detached clarity. Somedays , i just wanted to lock the door, grab my wallet and run as far as I could. when he touches me, when he presses himself against me, inside me and then shuts his eyes like he’s pretending its someone else.... it makes me want to run and disappear.

“are you even listening to me, Y/N? Why are you taking so bloody long to respond to me?!” He snapped.

“I’m listening. ” i said tiredly, switching off the stove and grabbing the strainer off the rack. the fine bone china cup on the kitchen shelf is well used while it’s pair is brand new. A subtle reminder of how often I was alone. So often. From the moment, i packed all my clothes and moved into his luxury penthouse.

“ Are you drunk?” he said finally.

Silence.

“No.” i said, feeling jittery. But i wish i was. i can’t put up with you when i’m sober.

“ Good, listen carefully. i called you because I will be landing in Seoul tomorrow night. We have a luncheon with the Kim Corp CEO the next day and i want you to send my Valentino suit to the cleaners.”

a glorified maid. with occasional access to her master’s bed.

“Okay. i will.” I said dully.

“ and call my mother.”

i opened my mouth to protest but he had already hung up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Billionaire Heiress Lalisa Manoban landed in Seoul after a successful modeling campaign and Fan Meeting across Asia and Europe. Coincidentally, she was found travelling with world renowned Pediatric Surgeon, Min Yoongi and...”

“ coincidence, my ass. He’s fucking her! i just know it.” My sister growled, pointing an accusatory finger at the small portable TV high up on the shelf of her shop. I grimaced and watched her as she directed her employee to take care of Yoongi’s suit.

“Unnie please...I really don’t want to talk about that.” i said, feeling exhausted.

“Why are you even with him?” She said bitterly. “ You should just dump his ass.”

I smiled a little at that.

“I really should...” i said thoughtfully, thinking about something far more important. There was a small budding hope inside me. But i hadn’t confirmed it yet. It could be a way to salvage my hopeless marriage. Could be.... but I was kind of terrified to actually confirm it. what if i’d just gotten my hopes up. what if it would all come crashing down on me?

“Y/N...are you even listening to me? You don’t have to worry about me and mother. The shop is doing well now. We hardly need yoongi’s support. ”

“You know it isn’t that easy, unnie. i can’t just leave him. No matter how much i want to.” i fumbled with the ring on my finger. a handcuff, i thought softly. A tiny handcuff , soldered by the love I had for an undeserving husband and the fear I had for being alone.

that was it essentially. the fear that if i left him, i would somehow be more unhappy than i was now and then it would all be for nothing.

But my sister didn’t drop the subject.

“So that’s the only reason you’re staying? Not because you’re still in love with the guy, right?” She said shrewdly, eyes sharp and accusatory as she stared at me.

i flushed a little.

“That was a long time ago.”

“But you never got over it.” She pointed out.

“i was a child! i was fifteen or something! I didn’t know better. i thought he was handsome that’s all......”

........and kind and generous and so incredibly funny. i loved the way he would rule the basketball court, the way he would sound so passionate as he talked about his photographs in the photography club. i loved the way he would bring a flask full of milk for the stray puppies behind the school grounds. i loved the way he would play the piano during School festivals, using those ivory white fingers to coax the most beautiful sounds out of something lifeless. The way he breathed life into those keys and made them sing.

But somehow the delusion had carried on into adulthood.

And i’d thought, stupidly , that his hands were magic. that his breath was magic.

That if he would touch me then he would be able to breath life into me too. that he would somehow takeaway all the misery and hurt that i’d accumulated in my soul over the years.

That if only i could have Min Yoongi, everything else would fall in place.

“ Hey.. Y/N.... are you listening?” My sister’s voice pulled me out of my reverie. Everyone was asking me this, weren’t they? are you listening? are you listening?

I couldn’t listen. not with the voices in my head screaming too loud .

“uh..huh?” i said, momentarily befuddled.

She smiled.

“i said, i’ll send the suit around with one of the kids. Go get some rest. you look like you haven’t slept in a while.”

Two years. I haven’t slept in two years.

“ thanks unnie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“.... We’re planning on introducing and Android and iOS app as well, something that would help the parents have a closer relationship with the Hospital itself, be updated on any new vaccines, get notifications for them or make appointments online as well. The app would be linked to our main data base and the kids who are staying with us will be included as well...” Yoongi’s voice was deep and steady, ringing clear with intelligence and it was physically evident, how impressed the CEO of Kim corp, a young man called Kim Seokjin was,

“You’re clearly very good at what you do, Yoongi ssi..” He said brightly, glancing briefly at me and smiling. “ and your wife is truly lovely. My chaerin said that you offered to design some antique pieces for her.” He said brightly. i bowed my head politely.

“Y/N is one of the best antique jewelry designers in Asia. Chaerin noona should be honored.” Yoongi wrapped an arm around my waist, fingers spanning across my lower abdomen, thumb dipping into the small space between my skirt and blouse, cold against the warmth of my skin.

The public persona that he wore, when we were out in company was flawless. i felt slightly nauseous. slightly dizzy but along with it was a little bit of happiness. i had a feeling that this nausea was linked to something new and exciting. something that could perhaps make yoongi like me again.

But i wasn’t sure. Not yet. The two brand new pregnancy tests in the bottom of the bathroom cabinet, carefully wrapped in brown sheets , reminded me that this could go either way. it could be nothing, a false alarm in which case i wasn’t aby worse off than i was now. or it could be positive.

Which would mean, me telling yoongi that somehow, against all odds of maths , our drunk, ill-judged decision to have sex, that one time in the back of the car without protection had resulted in a baby.

I felt my skin go a little cold at the prospect. I didn’t really want to think about how he would react to that. But i couldn’t help but hope.

He loved children, didn’t he?

He would like one of his own, right?

“what’s wrong?” His voice drew me out of my introspection and i blinked at him, feeling a little queasy.

“Nothing... i.. i’m sorry.”

He hesitated.

“ Have you been sleeping less.,.. You look really tired.” He sounded almost worried and i swallowed dryly.

“I.. no. I’m fine. “

he nodded , unconvinced.

“are you sure? if you want to head back home and get some rest...”

It was times like this that made it hard to fall out of love with this man, i thought miserably.

The occasional bouts of genuine concern .

The extra cup of coffee on the side of the bed table. The closed windows when the morning was too cold. The home cooked dinners when I was feeling sick or tired.

And i didn’t mind repaying him this way.

See, sometimes, i wasn’t a shitty daughter in law.

sometimes, i lived up to the min family’s reputation and did the right thing. i was the perfect trophy wife who greased wheels and helped the whole machinery of the nepotistic Seoul society to function.

“It’s important right? This.. meeting. Luncheon. Seokjin ssi is supposed to be investing in your hospital. i’ll hold out. don’t worry. I’ll be a good girl. . ” i said nervously.

the words seemed to affect Yoongi. His breath hitched, gaze dropping to my lips as he swallowed.

“Fuck, you’re such a pain.”

I frowned.

“what’s wrong? don’t you want me to do that? “

Yoongi sighed, nodding.

“Yes, but i’d rather not do it at the expense of you falling face first into the food later on.”

i smiled weakly. he had a way of making me smile, even when it wasn’t really his intention. another trait that drew me to him.

“i’ll try to resist.”

He shook his head .

“Fine. i need to go meet a few other doctors. Will you be okay by yourself?”

I nodded, watching as he untangled himself from around me and walked to the other side of the lawn. I moved to the corner where a small table held a collection of drinks and refreshment. i grabbed a small flute of lemonade and nearly jumped out of my skin when Chae Rin , Seokjin’s twin sister appeared in front of me.

“Y/N, are you okay? “ She said , looking concerned as she peered at me.

“i’m fine, chae Rin ssi..” i said softly and she smiled kindly.

“i really wanted to apologize about what happened. I didn’t know that Yoongi and jiyeon had history.” she said apologetically.

i blinked, confused.

“Jiyeon?” i said surprised.

“Yes... You know, the doctor we met earlier? I didn’t know that Yoongi was engaged to her before he met you. i wouldn’t have added her to the guest list if I’d known.” she said , looking genuinely sorry and I kept a neutral face , while my heart dropped somewhere down to my knees, leaving my entire chest hollow and weak.

“that’s... that’s alright.” I said firmly. My voice was steady and even , not even betraying the sheer unadulterated pain that was coursing through my veins.

Yoongi had been engaged to marry. To a doctor.

suddenly the past two years made more sense. No wonder he hated the sight of me. i tried to conjure up an image of the woman we had met earlier. But it was impossible. We’d met so many of them and i hadn’t kept track.

i turned around and my eyes caught on yoongi’s white suit, somewhere ahead and to the left and i saw her at once. she wore a champagne colored gown with silver sequins and she looked less like a doctor and more like she’d stepped right off a ramp.

“That’s her isn’t it ?” i said softly and Chae Rin hummed.

“Yes. She just got appointed here at yoongi’s hospital. So we really couldn’t avoid inviting her.” She said breathlessly.

I watched Yoongi smile at her, wide, unrestrained. i’d never seen that smile on him. not even once.

Suddenly, the nausea that i’d held inside for the entire morning came rearing back in full force. i excused myself hastily, rushing to the nearest bathroom and emptying my stomach into one of the porcelain bowls.

i stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself.

Suddenly, the prospect of being pregnant was so unwelcome that i vomitted again.

~~~~~~~~

When Yoongi found his way back to me, Jiyeon was on his arm. i watched them walk over, looking for all intents and purpose like they belonged together ( and they did , didn’t they? They were both doctors? They had both been in love? )

i stayed perfectly still as Yoongi smiled and introduced us.

“this is my wife, Y/N.” He said brightly.

jiyeon gave me a smile that was perfectly artificial but flawless.

“You’re the lucky girl, then? “ She said softly.

I hesitated, thrown by the words which sounded condescending.

“i...yes... i am. ... “ i said, feeling somehow like it hadn’t been a compliment at all, as much as it was an observation. an assessment. A subtle ‘ so you’re the one who stole my fiance’.

“ Jiyeon’s moving to Seoul this week. She’s going to be working with me in the pediatric department of our Hospital. “ Yoongi said and there was genuine pleasure in his tone.

He was really happy about it. i felt my heart begin to pound again as a sinking feeling of despair began to take hold.

“Which reminds me. Yoongi , could i crash with you guys for a couple weeks? I need to find an apartment but the chairman wants me to jump in from tomorrow and i may not have time to look for one.” She turned to Yoongi fully, completely omitting me out of the decision and I flinched.

really? was this how it was going to be?

To his credit, Yoongi looked genuinely surprised , hesitant even as he glanced at me. There’s a bit of discomfort there, mixed with a little helplessness.

and it’s silly how familiar he looks like this. Hesitant and unsure. He’s always

it’s the look which screams , i don’t know what to say or how to say it, and over the years it’s become instinctive, for me to step in and sooth. To step in and iron out the creases that came from Yoongi’s introverted nature.

“of course you can. there’s plenty of room. We’d love to have you over.”

And only a part of that sentence is a lie.

~~~~~~~~

the next two days changed things.

it was blatantly obvious that Jiyeon wanted yoongi back. i would watch as she leaned over him at dinner, grabbed his coat for him when he was leaving , even feed him bits of meat off her own plate while he stayed glued to his laptop.

Yoongi stayed oblivious, or maybe he put on that act for my benefit. i tried prying a bit, asking him how he met her and stuff but he stayed perfectly stoic, unaffected.

He didn’t tell me that they had been engaged.

i wasn’t sure how to take it.

Maybe he didn’t want me to know because he was over her and it no longer mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want to let me know because he was still in love with her.

And later that night , lying on the bed with Yoongi so close , yet so unreachable, so untouchable, i felt miserable. i liked this. i liked being able to sleep, with my gaze on his broad back. Watching the slight rise and fall of his chest, the fall of his fringe into his forehead. The handsome, ethereal features that looked breathtaking in the moonlight.

this bit of Yoongi that was mine.

The way he slept, often curling around himself, on his left side, bent elbows cradling his head as he breathed evenly.

the way he looked stepping out of the shower, towel slung low on his sharp hips, chest glistening with stray droplets of water, fairly glowing.

the way he looked with his hair wet , the fringe falling into his eyes as he towel dried the wet strands with his beautiful surgeon fingers. Fingers that healed and made music and felt like heaven against my skin, the few times I’d been touched by him.

And more importantly, the way he had looked that night in the back seat of his Porsche, when he loomed over me , trying to control his strength as he fucked into me, gently, never with more force than necessary, eyes shut but lips wet and parted , breath hitching into pants as he made love to me.

and honestly, it had been enough.

It had been enough, somehow.

it ought not to be, but it was .

but now, here i was , at risk of losing that as well.

This could be it, the voice in my head whispered. this could be the last few times you get this. This could be the end . This thing with Yoongi. This ‘ marriage’ it could really be ending.

and i realized how badly I didn’t want it to end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perhaps it was the fact that Jiyeon was there, that made me put off taking the test. it was stupid but i really wanted to wait. i’d been looking forward to the pregnancy. Been happy but now a more terrifying prospect came into play. the thought that perhaps, Yoongi wanted to be with jiyeon instead.

it was stupid, but i couldn’t help but wonder.

it all came to a head a few days later, during dinner. Jiyeon seemed to be watching me carefully and then, just when Yoongi reached for a glass of water and poured me some, she laughed.

“Y/N, i still can’t believe you let me stay here. i mean most wives wouldn’t be so happy about an ex staying in the same house as their husband.”

Yoongi startled obviously, water sloshing from his glass all over his dinner and i flinched, more worried about him than jiyeon’s provocation.

“yoongi, are you okay?” Jiyeon leapt to her feet, grabbing a bunch of tissues and reaching out to press them against his chest and hips, where the water had spilled and my breath caught in my throat, stomach cramping uncomfortably as I gripped the edge of the table.

“ It’s all good. ” i said stupidly, looking anywhere but at Yoongi because i knew i would likely do something incredibly foolish if i did.

the rest of dinner was awkward, incredibly so, and my skin felt itchy because of how Yoongi stared at me.

But the damage was done and when i stepped into the bedroom,. I froze because yoongi was sitting on the bed, fingers fumbling with his tie, as he stared at me.

“Y/n, about what jiyeon said...”

“you don’t have to say it. You don’t have to tell me about her..”

Please don’t tell me about her, ignorance is bliss...

“ i want to. We were in med school together in London... and I was engaged to her. “

i shut my eyes, head aching.

“yoongi, i just...”

“We didn’t break up. I just want to be honest with you. We never broke up.” He said dully.

My eyes flew open, mouth going slack.

what.

WHAT.

“What does.. what does that mean...?”

“when i moved here , I promised her i would come back and marry her.”

But i got roped into marrying you instead.

The unsaid words hit me so hard that i stumbled a bit.

“Y/N..” He half stood, like he was reaching for me but i quickly moved away.

Is this what it was like to actually lose everything that ever mattered to you?

“do you.. do you still love her?” i said stupidly.

And he just looked at me.

Evenly, honestly.

“i.. i don’t know.” he said, shattering the last remaining piece of my heart.

I laughed out loud . i couldn’t stop myself. it was the single most painful thing i’d heard all night.

“i.. i understand.”

Did I?

would i ever understand?

would i ever even breathe agin....

“ Y/n ...”

“i can’t... right away. “ I said , miserably. “ i need some time to ... move out..”

Yoongi flinched.

“that’s not what i want.. Y/n.. We should talk about this and ”

I shook my head.

“Shut up. i don’t want to hear another word. i’m leaving...” I said feverishly.

before i change my mind and do something foolish and convince myself that i could stay here like this, just happy with breathing the same air as you because i can’t... i shouldn’t.. i should leave.

“I’ll take the guest bedroom.” i didn’t stick around to hear his protests.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grabbed the two pregnancy tests, still unused and tossed them in the trash. there was no way i was taking those tests.

it no longer mattered, i thought stupidly. i wouldn’t take those stupid tests.

Or maybe i would. because it had been nearly two months. i hadn’t had my period./ And just because i wished it didn’t happen didn’t mean it would.

So, i’d do the normal sane thing : take the pregnancy test, realize how badly i’d fucked up, maybe get a job, become a single mom and all that ...

but only after i left him for good.

after i was safe.

You know, when there was no possibility of me grabbing on to the test and clinging to Yoongi because of a a child he may not even want. i wanted to say i was strong enough to stand my ground and not do something as pathetic as that but i wasn’t .

i was weak.

Especially when it came to Min Yoongi.

so i would leave him and his fiancee and get lost so that he could live well. And i would watch him be happy without me. accept that he was done with me.

My body jerked in pain at the thought.

I packed my clothes quickly and called my sister. For all her insitence that i leave yoongi, she still broke down when i told her i would be coming back home.

“i’m so sorry baby... he’s such an idiot..”

No, i am.

~~~~~~~~~

“ You look sick. ” jiyeon’s voice was strong and surprised.

I jumped a bit too much.

“uh.. what?” i said, stunned.

“I don’t think you’ve been eating much. ?” She said softly.

“I..” i stopped, too tired to lie. “ something like that.”

“it definitely explains how tired you’ve been. You should take some supplements and stuff. if you can’t eat...they’ll at least give you some sort of energy. It’s what i do most of the time...” She grabbed a small bottle of pills , with the name torn off.

“this.. what is this..?” i said confused.

“Just some vitamin supplements... They’ll really help.” she said genuinely and i smiled weakly.

it was odd, knowing that she wasn’t a bad person. she was only taking back what had always been hers anyway.

My husband.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you think of the day we first met?” i said stupidly, watching Yoongi as he got ready in our bedroom. we hadn’t spoken in a week. He had worked extra shifts at the hospital.Not even coming home for dinners. whe he’d come today morning to shower and get dressed , i’d followed him in.

He hadn’t said a word.

“Y/n ...” his voice was tired. miserable.

“i remember it. i think of it, often. You told me you were okay with the marriage.... and then... on our wedding day.... You told me you would try to love me. you promised..” i said, fighting tears.

He stopped, fingers stilling midway as he knotted his tie.

“Y/n ...baby.. please just...”

“you promised you would only look at me, that you would only protect me and that you would make me happy .. you promised you would love me...... you promised! Not just before me but in front of all those people. in front of my family..in front of yours.. in front of god!”

“Y/n.... calm down..i just..”

“But you never tried!” I shouted.

it was the first time i’d raised my voice to him.

He looked stunned as he stared at me.

“and i believed you. i believed your, filthy lies.” i hissed.

“Wait... Y/n.. let’s talk about this...”

“I want a divorce.”

Part 2

#min yoongi #yoongi fics #yoongi scenarios #yoongi smut

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