dinner date Ϋͺ β£ ΦΉ ββββ Ϋ« β’
α β β ππβ οΉβ bad era ( α΄ΝΛ¬α΄Ν)ΰ΄
βπβ€οΈοΈπ β¦ after relentess begging for your husband to cancel out his schedule to just have time with you, he decides to give attitude! so to give him a taste of his own medicine, you ignored him for 2 days.
βπ β€οΈοΈ π β¦ bad era!michael. meanwife!reader. established relationship. michael is a sub in this hehehe. i LOOOVE sub michael sorry. ignoring michael for a few days. arguing. sad-ish. hurt/comfort. VERYVERY dom reader i guess. we all love mean wife x sub trope. nicknames (baby, babe, angel). fluff i guess. maybe a part two, lmk if you want one.
πΰΎΰ½²πππΰΎΰ½² β¦ guess whos back after taking such a long break.. me ! but ofc i will try and complete your requests, so please wait !! ^^ also i didnt know how to continue this so MIND ME im sorry ππ
ππ πβ΄ππΉπ
after relentless days of begging your husband, michael, to cancel off his schedule just to have a dinner date with you, the day finally came. you dressed nicely in a simple red dress with a slit at the thigh, your neck laced with diamond necklaces.
he looked beautiful.
the raindrops flickered onto the glassboards, the tapping noises softly sounding in the dim lighted restaurant, the sound of cutleries and wine clinking in the background noise. the restaurant lingered a small, faint smell of red wine and oakwood.
"what are you having?" you asked michael, as his eyes were still focused on the menu. "hm? still checking," he replied flatly, barely looking up. your smile tightened, as you didnt want to make a scene after you both finally get a date night out.
after placing your orders, michael barely talked to you, and only stared out the window. every question you asked, you only recieved 2 to 3 words. it was like, he preferred his work over you, his wife. "is.. is something bothering you, baby? whats wrong?" you finally asked.
"its just.. i was supposed to attend an important meeting now," he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fist. your mask immediately fell, after realising what he meant. the meeting was more important than me? you thought. tears filled your eyes as you asked shakily, "so, you would prefer to attend a meeting rather than being with your own wife?"
his hand drifted to yours quickly. "no, babe, thats not what i mean-" "theres no need to explain, michael. just, just go attend that meeting for all i care." your voice dropped an octave lower, taking your purse and storming out the restaurant, the sound of your heels clacking on the woodboards.
his arms didnt move, as he looked at your retrieving figure.
you went back home and cooked yourself a pack of chicken flavoured instant noodles, as you sobbed yourself to "its a wonderful life". you went to bed at 11:19p.m, michael still not having returned from wherever he was. your red, puffy eyes hurt everytime you rubbed them, as your mind drifted to the painful reminder that he most likely was at the meeting.
you sobbed yourself to sleep, your back facing the side of his bed, so he wouldnt be able to see you when he came back to sleep.
at 3:24a.m, he finally returned home. he slid off his red jacket, watching his every step, as if every move might depend on his life.
which in this moment might be.
the bedroom door creaked open, the light from the hall spilling into the room, casting a soft yellow glow on your face. by the light, michael could tell you were crying, your eyes red-rimmed, your cheeks stained with wet tears.
your chest sofly heaved up and down, your lips red and slightly open. he slowly walked into the room, staring at you, not knowing what to do next. he finally crouched down, wiping the tears away from your cheek. "...baby?" he quietly whispered.
no response.
he sighed, stripping off his white shirt beneath the jacket to get a shower. he softly kissed your forehead before sliding into bed, his hand placed on your hip.
the next morning, michael was waken up by the cool, empty silk. that was when he remembered what happened the day before. his eyes fluttered open, as he ran his hand through his dark curls. he sighed, you were already out? you barely, never went out without him.
not to say he was the 'controlling, psycho freak' type, you just felt safer with him going out with you.
he smoothened out the wrinkles on his pyjamas, stepping out of the bed. in the bathroom, his mind was still on you, he forgot to turn of the water. "mike, whats up man? why 'dyou look so sad?" quincy asked, seeing the way he spaced out.
"nothing.." he muttered, elbow resting on the table as his hand placed below his chin. "your wife, isnt it?" michael finally looked up. "got you! now, tell me whats wrong." quincy pulled the chair out so he could sit.
after michael explained, he covered his face with his palms, disappointed in himself. "wow, man, you messed up big time this time." quincy said.
"i know,"
"why did you even want to go to a meetin' instead of goin' out with your wife?" quincy asked, genuinely confused.
"i just... i was too focused on work.." he admitted.
"go apologise!"
"i cant!"
"man, you better apologise to her if not ill tell her something embarrassing you did when you were 12-"
"i will! i will!" he finally gave in. "thats my boy," he pat him on the back.
two days passed, and you were still not back. michael was already stressing out, calling your phone, asking your manager, your siblings, but they all said the same thing.
"shes busy."
busy doing what exactly? the truth was, you were at your sisters house, purposely ignoring him. you told yourself that after these two days, you wouldnt talk to him until he apologised.
the moment you walked throught the door and shut it, michael ran to you and pulled you into a tight hug. his grip was so tight that if he let you go, you would go away again. his hand stroked your hair, his head resting on your shoulder.
"baby, where were you?" he muffled into your hair. you didnt move, just allowing him to hug you.
"im sorry, im sorry baby.."
he pulled back and stared at your face. god, you were just as beautiful as the first time you both met. "im really sorry, angel," he cupped your face, giving you a soft kiss on the lips.
"are you really sorry?"
"yes, i swear ill make it up to you."
"good. if not ill shove bubbles down your throat."
he smiled, a genuine one, finally happy you were back.
