Marry Me, Doll? (Vox x Reader)

The Beginning (Pt.1 of 3)

You danced about your small kitchen, humming to Pasty Cline on the radio. Your husband would be working late again; another late meeting with his associates at a diner in the town over, and he had oh-so-kindly told you not to bother waiting up for him.

He even told you not to bother saving him a plate of dinner. The very same dinner you had spent hours preparing. What else were you supposed to do when you were a devoted little housewife.

Now, you knew that your husband was not working late. In fact you knew exactly what happened at these "work dinners" and you knew that he wouldn't be home for quite a few hours.

Why?

You grinned, pulling the beautiful meal you had baked out of the oven.

Because he was sleeping with his secretary.

All these dinners were a little cover-up for the affair that he had been having for almost a year now. You had found out about six months in. Sure, you cried and were upset at first.

But love is a tricky thing. You see, love requires some sort of passion, and unfortunately your husband chose his passion in the form of another, much younger, woman. And the only passion you had when you found out, was a passion for revenge.

Which is how you met Him.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and so very passionate.

He was passionate about you, about his home, his pet, his career.

He was seemingly the perfect man, better than your useless cheating husband in every way, and it certainly didn't hurt that he was your husband's boss.

Now every time your husband went out to see his little secret, you invited yours over as well.

A soft knock sounded at the front door. You swiftly set the food down on the table and lit the candles in the center, turning off the kitchen light, leaving the room illuminated around the table.

You rushed to the door, eager to see the handsome gentleman who graced your doorstep.

You opened the door, peeking your head out to make sure no nosy neighbors were trying to spy on you. Not that the town didn't already know what your husband was up to. But they really didn't need to know what you were up to.

They always gave you looks of pity. You hated it.

Hated the way they looked down on you when you walked through the local store. Hated the way some of the other woman gave you a knowing look, like they understood. They didn't, because you weren't just going to sit by passively while your husband played his little games.

No. You would have him in your hand, and destroy him when the time was right. And none of them would understand, so you made sure none of them were the wiser.

"Hello doll." Your lover said, gently kissing your cheek as he stepped into your house.

You shut the door behind him, he placed a hand on your waist, keeping you pressed against the door softly. He wasn't pining you there, but his body language seemed to insist you stay.