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Vows

Lonely - a Vows prequel

Yoongi finds a weakness he plans to exploit to the fullest. Another prequel to the events of Vows. Read the rest here.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 2.6k

Genre: Arranged marriage AU, smut

Warnings: Sex, swearing, bereavement

Yoongi buries his face in your pillow when he’d rather bury it in your neck and breathe in the scent of your skin. 

Your hand leaves his back, and you turn on your side, away from him. 

Yoongi lifts his head to check on you. 

‘You ok?’ he asks.

You don’t even turn to look at him. 

‘I’m fine.’ 

Yoongi’s got his own cum drying on his cock, he knows he needs to get up, clean himself off, but he doesn’t want to go just yet. 

‘You can stay if you want,’ you say, still facing away from him. 

‘I should get cleaned up,’ Yoongi says. 

Too late he realises it sounds like he doesn’t want to stay, when that wasn’t what he’d meant. 

‘Suit yourself,’ you reply. Your voice is flat. 

‘Aren’t you going to even look at me?’ Yoongi asks. It comes out too sharp, he realises as soon as the words leave his lips. 

You turn over to face him. 

‘What’s your problem, Yoongi?’ you ask, your tone frosty. 

Yoongi’s sitting up, but you’re not done yet. 

‘Did you want cuddles too?’ 

There’s so much venom in your voice Yoongi’s taken aback. 

You’re still not done. 

‘I hate flowers,’ you say, wrathful. 

You’re referring to the bouquet of lilies Yoongi sent you a few days ago, he doesn’t even know what possessed him to send them apart from that he’d had a realisation he’s never given you flowers before. 

In that moment Yoongi vows to send you flowers every day, just to piss you off. 

It’s petty and ridiculous, but then, so is he, when it comes to you.

***

There’s a commotion in the hallway, Yoongi can hear your voice. 

A moment later the door to his study slams open, and you’re standing in his doorway. 

‘Husband,’ you say, in the tone one might use to say, ‘cockroach’, ‘was I not clear when I told you that I hate flowers?’ 

Yoongi keeps his expression carefully blank. 

‘You hate flowers?’ he asks, innocently. 

You’re glaring at him so hard Yoongi can feel the heat of your gaze from where you’re standing. 

‘I told you that after we fucked last week,’ you assert. ‘And funnily enough, you’ve sent me flowers every day since.’

You round his desk and get right up in his face. 

‘Stop. Sending. Me. Flowers.’

The words come out staccato, and at the end of your sentence you poke him in the chest.

Yoongi looks down at your hand, surprised.

The words come out before he knows he’s spoken. 

‘No.’ 

The look on your face almost makes him laugh.

Your eyebrows are raised so high they’re practically in your hairline, your lips in an ‘o’. 

‘What did you say?’ you ask.

‘I said ‘no’,’ Yoongi replies. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to get done.’

You let out a strangled cry and stomp out of his office. 

You kick childishly at his house slippers on the way and nearly trip yourself up.

Yoongi’s half-risen from his seat, arm out like he could catch you from here.

You rally and stomp out, slamming the door behind you.

Yoongi rubs a hand over his chest, thinking of how you poked him. 

He decides he likes you when you’re angry.

***

Yoongi looks, bemused, at the huge tents sitting right in the middle of the front lawn of the house, the crowd of people milling around.

They hadn’t been there when he left for work this morning.

He approaches the front of the tents, and is greeted by a bespectacled woman with pink streaks in her hair. 

‘Good evening, are you here to support the event?’ she asks, pleasantly.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. 

‘You’re using my front lawn as the venue, so yes, you could say that,’ he says, mildly.

Her expression brightens. ‘Ah, you must be Mr Min! Your wife said you were a staunch supporter of our work. Please, have a seat, the dinner’s about to start!’

Yoongi allows himself to be led to a table near the front. To his surprise, Seokjin’s waiting at the table. 

‘What’s going on, Min?’ Seokjin asks. ‘Y/N said you wanted me to come over tonight.’

Yoongi snorts. ‘And you believed her?’

Seokjin, to his credit, looks shamefaced at being so easily hoodwinked. 

‘She has an innocent face,’ Seokjin says. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes. ‘Please tell me you know what’s going on.’

Seokjin passes him a leaflet. ‘I believe we’re raising money for a domestic violence charity.’

‘At least it’s a worthy cause.’ Yoongi looks around the tent, searching for your familiar head.

‘Where is my beloved wife?’ he asks Seokjin.

Seokjin nods, sagely. ‘It’s safer when you have a visual on her,’ he agrees. He tilts his head. ‘Incoming, three o clock.’

Yoongi turns, and as always, the sight of you makes his heart race and his blood pressure spike.

You’re accompanied by a gorgeous man with intense eyes and floppy hair.

‘Hi, Yoongi,’ you say cheerfully. Yoongi notices how you carefully stay out of arm’s reach. ‘This is Taehyung, he’s agreed to sing for us tonight.’

Yoongi very much dislikes how close you and Taehyung are standing. 

‘Pleasure to meet you,’ he says, shaking Taehyung’s hand, squeezing a little harder than necessary.

‘It’s a pleasure to be here,’ Taehyung replies, his voice a smooth baritone that makes Yoongi feel like dropping his own voice a register to match. 

‘Yuna will take you to get set up. Thanks again, Tae,’ you say. 

Tae?

Yoongi realises he’s grinding his teeth and makes a conscious effort to loosen his jaw. 

Seokjin’s grinning at him like a traitorous devil. ‘Is that the Kim Taehyung? I’ve heard great things about his music.’

‘We went to school together,’ you say. ‘He’s always been talented.’

‘How long have you been planning this fundraiser?’ Yoongi asks. 

A waiter materialises with a tray of champagne. Yoongi takes a glass, handing it to you automatically. 

You gulp it down so quickly you have time to grab another glass before the waiter leaves.

‘Just the last week,’ you say, shrugging. There’s a gleam in your eye. ‘It was all the flowers that gave me the idea, actually. I’ve been donating them to a women’s shelter and it struck me that I could do more than giving flowers.’

You fix Yoongi with a look he can’t quite decipher. ‘I was glad the lilies were going to people who would get enjoyment out of them.’

‘Do you dislike all flowers, or just lilies?’ Seokjin asks. 

You give Yoongi a sideways look. ‘Ah, let’s sit, they’re about to serve dinner.’

After dinner, Taehyung takes the small stage. As much as Yoongi hates to admit it, the man has a beautiful voice, and incredible charisma. 

The summer night is warm, balmy, and there’s a gorgeous glow to your skin in the fairy lights strung along the tent.

The smoke of Taehyung’s voice in the romantic ballad he’s singing is the perfect backdrop to what turned out to be an enjoyable evening. 

Yoongi leans back against his seat, arm propped on your seat. He can see the way you’re looking at the people swaying to the music on the makeshift dancefloor. 

‘Would you like to dance?’ he asks.

Your eyes light up. 

‘Yes,’ you reply.

Yoongi feels that familiar pulse of affection for you, the reason he thinks that maybe you and he have a chance of making this arranged marriage work. 

He holds out his hand, and you stare at it for a moment before putting your hand in his.

Yoongi doesn’t think of himself as much of a dancer, but it’s easy enough to pull you close.

You lean against his chest, and Yoongi thinks to himself that he really couldn’t ask for anything more than this. 

Then your arms slide around his waist, and you turn your head slightly into him. Your lips press against his chest for an instant. 

In this moment Yoongi thinks that he would forgive you anything.

‘I donated on our behalf, in my mother’s name, I hope that’s ok,’ you tell him.

Yoongi nods. ‘Of course that’s ok. It’s our money.’

‘I was going to ask —‘ you stop. 

Yoongi waits. 

‘It’s the anniversary of her death tomorrow. Will you come with me to visit her?’

Yoongi’s saddened that you’re asking like he might say no. 

‘Of course,’ he says, gently. ‘I’m honoured that you want me to go with you.’

You’re not looking at him, staring at his shoulder. ‘Thanks, Yoongi.’

Yoongi feels an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest. ‘You don’t have to worry about asking me for things,’ he tells you.

You look up at him, worry in your eyes. 

‘I hid all your left shoes,’ you tell him.

‘I thought it was you,’ Yoongi says, mildly. ‘Luckily I have spare shoes at the office.’

‘I’ll bring them back tonight.’

‘Nah,’ Yoongi replies. ‘You’re sleeping with me tonight.’

The smile you give him is mischievous.

‘Ok,’ you say, nonchalant.

***

Yoongi’s lips have kissed every inch of you, he thinks. 

His hands have learned the shape of you and he hopes that you’ve learned the feel of his touch. 

Yoongi plans on reminding you what he feels like every chance he gets.

His cock throbs inside you. You’re pinned underneath him, making little movements of your hips, sending tendrils of pleasure through him, making his balls tighten until they ache.

Your hands are fluttering along his back like you can’t decide where you want to touch most. 

‘Please Yoongi,’ you plead. Tears are pooled at the corners of your eyes, the skin of your face and chest burning against his.

Yoongi tightens his grip on your wrist. ‘A little more, baby,’ he coaxes. ‘I promise it’ll feel good.’

He pulls out an inch, two, and enters you again, filling you to the brim, relishing your desperate moan.

He can feel your thighs trembling, his hips between them as he takes his time working you up. 

Your eyes fall closed, and Yoongi squeezes your wrist. 

‘Hey. Look at me when I’m fucking you.’

‘It’s too much,’ you cry, ‘I can’t hold it, I’m gonna —-‘

Yoongi can already feel you pulsing around him, tightening around his cock for the second time. 

He doesn’t know if you’re aware how you wrap your whole body around him when you come, your legs around his hips, your arms around his neck, your lips pressed to his. 

He doesn’t know if you’re aware how it drives him crazy, the way you surrender to him completely, trust him to take care of you in this way. 

Yoongi slows his movements, holds himself still within you until you come back down.

Your grip on him loosens. 

‘You’re still hard,’ you murmur. ‘Still so hard.’

You’re slipping onto your knees on the floor in front of him, hand around his cock. 

‘Where do you want to cum, Yoongi?’ you ask, quiet, pliant in a way you never are outside the bedroom. 

You kiss the head of his cock, hand wrapping around him, stroking in the way you’ve learned he likes.

You moan as you lick up his cock. Your spare hand reaches to touch his balls, tugging just enough that Yoongi groans.

He’s aware he hasn’t answered your question.

‘I want to cum inside you,’ he says.

Your eyes darken. ‘Here?’ you ask, and you’re climbing up over him to sit in his lap. 

‘Why do you want to cum inside, Yoongi?’ you ask, voice silken. ‘Wanna fill me up? Wanna put your baby in me?’

‘Fuck,’ Yoongi swears, hands gripping your hips as you ride him. ‘Why does that sound so hot?’

‘I want it,’ you moan, hips working, one hand behind you, balancing so he can watch the way you writhe on his cock. ‘I want your cum, give it to me, Yoongi.’

The pleasure’s building so fast Yoongi just has time to grunt a warning before he’s spilling, cock buried deep inside you. You’re so tight around his cock Yoongi can barely move. 

‘Good girl,’ he praises, voice raspy. ‘Take it all, baby.’

He pulls out, and you moan as he squeezes your hip. ‘Don’t waste it,’ he says. ‘I’m going to the bathroom and when I come back I’m gonna check if you’ve been a good girl and kept it all inside, ok?’

You’re looking at him. ‘Gonna try,’ you say, so serious Yoongi’s both amused and somewhat aroused.

When he gets back you’re still in the same position he left you in.

Yoongi taps your warm thigh. ‘Let me see.’

He watches a trickle of white slide down between your legs and tsks. ‘You said you were going to be a good girl and keep it all, baby.’

You look at him, petulant. ‘It was too much,’ you protest. 

Yoongi can’t believe his ears. ‘Don’t be a brat,’ he says, sternly. ‘Say sorry and I’ll give you more.’

Your lips clamp shut and your eyes flash.

Yoongi reaches between your legs, strokes a thumb over your clit, making your hips dance.

You never do say you’re sorry, but Yoongi gives you more of his cum anyway.

***

Yoongi’s sitting next to you in the back of the car, a bouquet of lilies between you, one of the dozens he’s had sent to you over the last week.

You turn away from the window you’ve been staring out of for the last half hour. 

‘My father will meet us there,’ you tell him.

Yoongi nods. 

Your hand rests on the bouquet, and Yoongi has a sudden urge to put his hand over yours. 

Instead he strokes his thumb over the faint mark he made gripping your wrist yesterday. 

‘Sorry about this,’ he says.

You glance at it like you’ve forgotten it. ‘Oh it’s fine.’ Your lips curve. ‘I enjoyed it.’

Yoongi glances out the window. ‘We’re here.’

Your father is smartly dressed like every other time Yoongi’s seen him. 

Like you, he’s holding a bouquet of lilies. 

He mistakes Yoongi’s expression for one of curiosity. ‘Lilies were her favourite,’ he says.

Yoongi looks at you, stricken.

You’re not looking at him.

The grave of your mother is simple, unostentatious, apart from the bunches of lilies placed in front of it. 

You place your own flowers down, gentle. 

Yoongi bows his head respectfully. He’ll wait with you as long as you need him to.

***

This time, when you’re back in the car and put your hand on the seat between you, Yoongi covers it with his own.

‘I’m sorry,’ he tells you. ‘I didn’t know.’

The look you give him goes a long way towards assuaging the guilt he feels.

‘I didn’t think you did,’ you say, brisk.

‘If you’d said —‘ Yoongi breaks off and starts again.

‘I like making you angry,’ he tells you, honestly, ‘but I would never hurt you on purpose, not like this.’

‘I could have just told you all those lilies were making me sad,’ you reply. ‘Instead of yelling at you, hiding your shoes,’ you pause, wincing slightly, ‘and donating your tickets to that basketball game next week to charity.’

Yoongi blinks. ‘How’d you even know—-‘ he cuts himself off, shaking his head. ‘Seokjin.’

‘Not sure why he still trusts me,’ you say, shrugging.

‘He won’t for much longer,’ Yoongi muses. ‘He doesn’t like bratty behaviour.’

‘Not like you do?’ you ask, feigning innocence.

Yoongi laughs before he can stop himself. 

You look at him for a moment, expression unreadable. ‘I don’t want to hurt you either, Yoongi.’

You turn to look out the window again.

It’s only when the car pulls into your driveway that Yoongi realises he’s held your hand all the way home. 

©hamsterclaw 2022

Schooled aka Seokjin's revenge

A Vows drabble. Read the rest here.

Seokjin's fed up with the way Yoongi and his wife keep involving him in their shenanigans, so he decides to teach them a lesson.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Arranged marriage AU, smut

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, voyeurism

Kim Seokjin has spent a lifetime being a beautiful man. He’s never had any doubt about the way he looks, if what he sees in the mirror isn’t enough, all he has to do is walk out onto the street. He’s aware of the sidelong glances, the flattering double takes, sometimes the out-and-out staring. 

He’s aware of it all, and he’s not going to complain about it. In fact, he leans into it, weaponises it like he does all his other assets. He has a few. Seokjin’s never going to complain about the privileges his family money and his good looks have brought him. He’s never going to deny that life is unfair, that the deck is stacked in his favour. 

In some ways it’s grounding that he’s often surrounded by people of a similar ilk. His best friend is Min Yoongi, a sharply, devastatingly intelligent man with good looks and good fortune to rival his own. Yoongi’s always been a force to be reckoned with, from when he dabbled with being a basketball jock in high school, dropping panties and breaking hearts, to university, when he topped his classes and every beautiful person who turned his way. 

It’s strangely humbling to see Yoongi like this, reduced to the social adeptness of a half-witted neanderthal, by a woman who doesn’t even seem to be making any effort to do so. 

Seokjin tries hard to not roll his eyes as he watches the way Yoongi stares at his wife. In Seokjin’s head, he calls her the brat. Sometimes he does it to her face, mainly because he takes unholy pleasure in seeing the way the usually untouchable, unflappable  Min Yoongi visibly twitches when he hears Seokjin call her a brat. 

The brat looks at Seokjin, fresh from plotting whatever hell she’s plotting for Yoongi next. 

Seokjin waits. He can feel her eyes on his face, just as surely as she can’t feel the way Yoongi’s eyes never leave her face. 

‘Do you mind if I wait here in your office for a car, given my husband is too busy to give me a lift?’ she asks. 

Seokjin knows for a fact that Yoongi would drive her to the ends of the Earth if she ever asked. But he only knows it because he knows his friend. 

He’d never be able to guess it from the way Yoongi’s jaw tightens and he says nothing. 

They’re idiots. And because of them, Seokjin’s late to his afternoon appointment with a stunning and very effective physical therapist. 

‘Of course,’ Seokjin says, smoothly. ‘Would you like a drink whilst you wait?’

‘Oh I don’t want to be any trouble,’ she replies very formally. She throws Yoongi a sidelong glance as though she really can’t sense the way he’s glowering at her. 

‘See you at home, husband.’ 

Yoongi says, pointedly, ‘I’ll see you later, Seokjin.’ 

He turns away, and doesn’t see the flash of emotion in her eyes. It’s enough to make Seokjin almost soften towards her. 

Almost. 

He’s still annoyed at missing his appointment. 

‘I hope you don’t mind if I get some work done whilst you wait,’ he tells her. 

The brat looks at him. ‘I’ll wait downstairs, I only wanted to annoy him. I don’t really need to annoy you too.’ She laughs, a little. ‘Also, I left my purse and phone at home, I’ll have to walk.’ 

Seokjin’s exasperated. ‘You know Yoongi would have given you a lift. He’d have paid for a car.’ 

He only registers his scolding tone when he sees the way she’s subtly mimicking him. 

‘Stop that.’ 

‘Stop what?’ she asks, innocent. 

‘I’ll call you a car. I’ll put it on Yoongi’s tab,’ Seokjin says, unlocking his phone. 

‘I don’t like owing anyone anything,’ she mutters. 

‘You’d be doing me a favour by getting out of my hair,’ Seokjin replies. 

‘Your hair looks very shiny,’ she says. 

Seokjin knows she’s not flattering him, he did think that when he looked in the mirror this morning. Which reminds him. 

‘It’s my mother’s birthday tonight,’ he says. ‘I need to get a present. Maybe if you help me with a present idea we can call it even.’ 

‘I can do you one better,’ she says, brightening. ‘I’ve got a present you can give her. I’ll have it delivered to you once I get home.’ 

‘What is it?’ Seokjin asks. 

She almost looks offended that he has to ask. ‘It’s a pair of Qing dynasty jade earrings I picked up in Sotheby’s a few years ago.’ 

‘My mother loves jade,’ Seokjin says, intrigued. 

‘My mother did too,’ she says, eyes shadowed. Then she brightens again. ‘I’m sure your mother will love them.’

She pauses, then says, ‘I’m glad they’ll be going to someone who’ll enjoy them.’ 

‘You’ll have to let me pay you for them.’ 

‘It’s only money.’ 

‘Spoken like a true heiress.’ 

‘You act like you aren’t chaebol born and bred yourself, Kim Seokjin.’ 

Seokjin suddenly registers the way he’s standing over her, close. 

Their eyes meet. 

She tilts her chin to keep eye contact. 

‘Since you’re helping me out, I’ll help you,’ Seokjin says. ‘Yoongi cares more about you than he’ll admit to.’ 

‘He’s right outside,’ she replies. There’s a breathless quality to her voice Seokjin hasn’t heard before, not from her. He’s heard it from others though, he knows he’s a lot to take in, close up. 

‘Yeah?’ he asks. 

‘Yeah,’ she replies again. She’s staring at his lips. ‘But of course, it’s fine, because despite how close you’re standing, neither of us would do anything to hurt him, not like this.’ 

Seokjin lets his eyes rove over her lovely face, and for the first time in his life he’s tempted to take something that isn’t his. 

He can hear the door of his office opening behind him. 

She drops her gaze, to somewhere level with his shoulder. 

‘I’ll have the earrings sent over,’ she says. 

She turns away. ‘Hi husband, I was just thinking about you,’ she says, making it sound sarcastic. 

Yoongi murmurs something Seokjin doesn’t quite catch in that low voice of his. 

Seokjin turns just in time to see the way Yoongi’s hand lifts as if to touch her back as they leave together. He doesn’t touch, just drops it when he realises they’re still pretending to hate each other. 

Seokjin huffs out a breath, exasperated, then glances at his phone. Perhaps his physical therapist can free up a space later this afternoon. 

***

Seokjin watches the sun go down from Yoongi’s office as Yoongi paces a hole in the very beautiful Aubusson rug on his floor. 

‘Yoonseok won’t stop asking me when I’ll take her to see the family again,’ Yoongi growls. 

Seokjin examines his cuticles, bored. ‘Why don’t you just bone and leave me out of this.’ 

‘We are boning!’ says Yoongi furiously.

Seokjin sits up. ‘Wait. When did you start sleeping together?’ 

Yoongi just glares at him. 

Seokjin can’t stop the smile spreading across his face. ‘You mean, you’re sleeping together and she still won’t stop being a brat to you?’ 

He sits back. ‘I like her more and more every day.’ 

‘You’re supposed to be on my side,’ Yoongi says, sourly. 

‘I’m trying to stay out of this, but you won’t stop dragging me into it,’ Seokjin points out. 

‘She drags you into it too,’ Yoong points out. 

The memory of her pretty face tilted up to his and the mercifully brief, wild impulse to lean down and drag his lips across hers, sobers Seokjin. 

‘You’re both idiots,’ Seokjin settles for saying. ‘I’m not getting involved in any of this.’ 

Yoongi’s phone rings. 

Seokjin’s amused to note that he’s saved her as ‘Mrs Min.’ 

Yoongi stares at it. 

‘It’s just us here, you don’t have to pretend you hate her,’ Seokjin says, smirking. 

Yoongi throws him a murderous look and answers. 

Seokjin sees himself out. 

***

The incessant vibration of Seokjin’s phone is infuriating him. 

The breathless woman underneath him puts her hand on his chest.

‘Do you need to get that?’ she asks. 

Seokjin looks down at her gorgeous eyes and is very tempted to say ‘no’. 

‘Let me just see if it’s an emergency, I’m sorry,’ he says. 

It’s Yoongi. 

‘Are you dying?’ he asks, as soon as he answers. 

Yoongi laughs, sardonic. ‘I’m in hell.’ 

‘Well, hopefully Mr Lee will be able to find you to take you home,’ Seokjin says. ‘Good –’ 

Yoongi says, slurred, ‘I’m sorry. I’ll call Namjoonie.’ 

Seokjin looks regretfully at the bed, at the woman in it, waiting for him, and says, on a sigh, ‘Where are you?’ 

Yoongi’s still upright when Seokjin arrives to get him, just about. 

Seokjin takes the whiskey out of his hand and gulps it down himself. 

‘Come on, Yoon, let’s go home.’ 

***

Yoongi shuffles into Seokjin’s kitchen the next morning. 

Seokjin puts his phone away quickly, closing the message trail. 

‘I’ve made breakfast, Yoongi,’ he says, gesturing to the spread on the table. ‘Eat up.’

He resists the urge to say, ‘you’re gonna need it.’

Yoongi, predictably, goes straight for coffee.

It’s a good few minutes before his gravelly voice says, ‘thank you for getting me, Jin.’

‘It’s fine,’ says Seokjin, serene. ‘I’m meeting her again tonight.’

‘You can get away with a lot when you have a face like this,’ he reminds Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t crack a smile. ‘I don’t even know if any of this is worth it,’ he says. ‘Maybe we should just accept we aren’t compatible and call it.’

‘Sure, can I ask her out?’ Seokjin asks, sly.

Yoongi’s expression is blank but Seokjin can see the way his hands tighten around the coffee mug.

‘Shut up,’ Yoongi says, too busy denying his feelings to even remember who he’s talking to.

Seokjin hums.

Yoongi says, also predictably, ‘can you drop me off at home?’

‘Car’s round the front,’ Seokjin replies.

***

They’re a block from Seokjin’s office building when he says, ‘we need to stop by my office, I need to pick something up.’

Yoongi grunts, having lapsed into a hungover silence that feels contemplative to Seokjin. He hopes his friend is in a philosophical mood for what’s to come.

As the elevator doors open, Seokjin steps back smoothly. 

‘Ah I forgot my phone in the car. You go on up,’ he tells Yoongi. 

He has just enough time before the lift doors close to see Yoongi look up in surprise at his bratty wife, already in the lift.

Seokjin heads straight to the security office, where Minseok, his head of security, is waiting.

Minseok gestures to the cameras, aligned to give a crystal clear line of vision to the couple now trapped in the lift, somewhere between the tenth and eleventh floors. 

Seokjin takes the microphone. 

‘Good morning, Mr and Mrs Min, it’s your beloved friend Seokjin. I’ve organised for both of you to be trapped in this lift so you can spend some time working out your problems, without involving me. You’ll be here a while, so you might as well talk to each other. I’ll be back in a few hours, or whenever either of you looks like you’re about to pee in the lift.’

He watches with satisfaction as the brat turns straight to Yoongi, no doubt berating him about his choice in friends.

Yoongi crosses his arms and stares straight into the camera. He lifts his hand, middle finger up. 

‘Don’t be rude, Yoon, I rescued you out of that bar last night when you were drinking yourself to oblivion pining after your beloved wife.’

Yoongi’s mouth thins into a line, and he mouths a very clearly enunciated ‘fuck you’ to Seokjin. 

‘Why don’t you fuck each other instead?’ asks Seokjin, sweetly. 

He sees the way her mouth drops open. 

‘I’ll be back later,’ Seokjin says. ‘Enjoy!’

***

Seokjin heads up to his office to watch how things play out as he catches up on some work.

At first, Yoongi and the brat seem to be talking, arms crossed, mirrorring each other in their tenseness. 

It’s somewhere after the first half hour that they seem to realise they can sit down. Seokjin watches, amused, as the brat pointedly takes the opposite corner of the lift to Yoongi, putting as much distance between them as possible.

Seokjin’s not sure when they start moving closer together, but by the end of hour two, they’re sitting next to each other.

It’s somewhere around hour three that Seokjin notices the way Yoongi’s thigh is pressing against the brat’s, the way his hand is braced on his own thigh but splayed so his fingertips touch her skin.

Seokjin looks up from an email just in time to see Yoongi mouth, ‘fuck it,’ and turn, pulling the brat into his lap. 

Like this, Seokjin can see the back of Yoongi, and he has a clear, mostly unobstructed view of the brat’s face.

Kim Seokjin’s always been one to recognise beauty when he sees it, and the brat is beautiful in her pleasure.

And shit, she looks pleasured.

Seokjin has a half thought that he ought not to be watching this, that he should leave them to their privacy, then the brat turns to face the camera directly. It’s almost like she can see him, her eyes are so knowing.

Her lips curve in what can only be described as a smirk, but part soon after, as Yoongi’s hand moves under her skirt. 

Her mouth falls open, and Yoongi slides a hand around her neck, pulling her closer. 

Seokjin watches as her thighs tighten around Yoongi’s torso. 

She’s wrapped around him, grinding on his lap.

Her fingers weave into Yoongi’s hair, long lately like it was when he and Seokjin were in college together. She tugs Yoongi’s head back, and he kisses down her neck in response.

Yoongi slips a hand under her sweater, over her breast, and her fingers tighten in Yoongi’s hair.

Seokjin can’t hear her, but he can see the way her lips form Yoongi’s name.

Dimly, he realises that his own cock is hard, pressing against his slacks. He strokes a hand over his length, trying to take the edge off.

Her lips part again over Yoongi’s name, her eyes close, and her back arches, pressing her into Yoongi.

Fuck it.

Seokjin draws his aching cock out of his slacks. He gives himself a pump, two, shivering at the pleasure of it.

There’s more positioning between the couple in the lift, an unmistakeable movement, one Seokjin’s experienced himself many times with many partners.

The brat brings her hips back, smiles prettily at Yoongi, and starts to lower herself down into his lap.

Seokjin knows the exact moment Yoongi’s in all the way. He can see how his hands have shifted, how they’ve gone from touching, stimulating, to just holding her against him.

Shit, shit, shit, the brat’s so fucking pretty when she’s full of cock.

Seokjin’s hand stills, but he can’t stop now, not when the brat looks like Yoongi’s fucking her so good she’s about to lose it.

Her hands pull hard at Yoongi’s hair, her eyes squeeze shut, and Seokjin can see her mouth the words, ‘I’m cumming,’ so clearly he can almost hear her voice.

Seokjin groans as he spills into his own hand, tugging his own cock furiously, milking every last bit of pleasure, imagining it’s her on the end of his cock. 

By the time he looks up again, Yoongi and the brat are holding each other. He can’t see Yoongi’s face, but he can see the dazed, smitten expression on her face, clear as day.

Seokjin clicks off the screen and goes to get cleaned up.

***

When the lift doors open, Yoongi’s got his arm around the brat protectively. 

‘Enjoy the show, Seokjin?’ Yoongi asks, dryly, but he doesn’t sound particularly bothered that his best friend just watched him fuck his wife. In fact, he sounds, almost…. smug?

The brat’s a different story. Seokjin can almost feel the warmth radiating off her face from where he’s standing.

She turns into Yoongi’s chest, and Seokjin sees the look of pleasure on Yoongi’s face before he smooths it over to his usual neutral expression.

‘I’d appreciate if you didn’t try to drag me into your disagreements in the future,’ Seokjin says, sternly.

‘I’m sorry,’ says the brat, demure considering Seokjin’s just seen her cum on her husband’s cock.

‘That’s fair,’ Yoongi allows.

‘Great. I think I’ve made my point,’ Seokjin says.

He waves his phone. 

‘I’ve got a copy of the footage,’ he informs them.

Yoongi cocks a brow at him. 

‘The only copy. I’ve had the original footage destroyed,’ Seokjin tells them.

Yoongi says, ‘how much?’

‘Not for sale,’ Seokjin replies, matter of fact.

The brat steps forward. Her eyes meet Seokjin’s.

‘Enjoy,’ she says. 

Then she turns, takes Yoongi’s arm and leads him away.

Neither of them look back. 

©hamsterclaw 2022

I've been rereading The Vows so many times I can actually see it play out like a movie in my head. That is how much I love it! But I was wondering will you ever be up to write from Yoongi's POV during the time OC ran off to Geneva? A glimpse of his feelings during the time she's gone with a heartfelt but comical interference by Jin? 😬

what is this prompt and why do i love it so much?

here goes:

A Vows drabble, featuring chaebol! Seokjin

Yoongi watches as Mrs Gye sets the vegetables in the middle of the table, followed by the rice, the beef, the steamed fish. It's somewhere around the pickles that he finally breaks.

'Where's Mrs Min?' he asks.

Mrs Gye arranges the pickles for a maddening half minute before she answers.

'Mrs Min went out this morning and hasn't come back.'

It's only a lifetime of deference to his elders that stops Yoongi from snapping. He's also got the sense that he's on thin ice with Mrs Gye right now. Perhaps it's the way she's been glaring daggers at him since she walked into the dining room.

'Do you have any idea where she might be?' he asks, softening his voice.

Mrs Gye doesn't snort, she's too ladylike for that, but the look she gives him conveys her discontent effectively enough.

She stares him down until he's adequately chastened.

Then she says, 'I knew Y/N's mother. She was impulsive and hot-tempered, but she was a good sort.'

Yoongi's thinking back to the events of today. 'She came to my office today,' he says. He's thinking of you, of your bright face and windswept hair as you'd popped up in his secretary's office this afternoon, clutching a bucket of popcorn and a stuffed bear.

Mrs Gye's ladling soup into a bowl. 'Miss Kim Nara hasn't been around lately,' she murmurs.

Yoongi grimaces at the mention of your fiercely protective best friend.

'Nara doesn't like me,' he says.

Mrs Gye gives him another look that makes his balls retract. 'She's a loyal friend.' She pauses. 'Like Kim Seokjin is to you.'

'You've always liked Seokjin more than me,' Yoongi grumbles, annoyed with himself for letting petulance creep into his tone.

Mrs Gye pats his arm. 'Seokjin is an easy person to love,' she says. 'Not like you.'

She sets the bowl in front of him. 'But for some reason, Y/N seems to be fond of you.'

Yoongi gazes up at her in surprise.

Mrs Gye isn't smiling, but there's kindness in her eyes.

'I have no idea why.'

'Me either,' Yoongi says, honestly.

***

Yoongi's perfectly capable of not letting his emotions cloud his judgement. His cool head serves him well, and he's just as good at not letting his emotions show on his face. Compared to your best friend Kim Nara, though, he's an amateur.

It's been a few weeks since you left his office, and all he's managed to get out of the sphinx that is Kim Nara is that you're safe.

'Mr Min?'

The irritatingly nasal voice of his legal advisor draws him out of his thoughts.

Before he can answer, Kim Seokjin rolls his eyes and stands. 'I believe that settles it,' he says. 'Mr Min's agreed to sign over his entire company to me for the token sum of 1000 won. In the next meeting we can discuss his marriage contract, which I am also after.'

Seokjin waits with barely concealed impatience as the room empties out.

'What kind of man comes to a non-urgent meeting when his wife is missing?' he asks.

Yoongi shuffles through his list of possible responses to Seokjin and settles on a curt, 'Fuck you.'

Seokjin's looking out at the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows. It's a gloriously sunny day, and on any other occasion Yoongi would be giving himself a moment to enjoy the view of downtown Seoul bustling underfoot, the Hangang river in the distance.

'Is that the tone of voice you took with Kim Nara?' Seokjin asks. He turns back to look at Yoongi. 'Is that why she won't tell you where the brat is?'

Yoongi's eye twitches at the use of the word 'brat' coming out of Seokjin's mouth in reference to his wife.

Seokjin blinks at him, like butter wouldn't melt, like he can't sense how close Yoongi is to lunging out of his seat.

Or maybe he can, because he takes a step back.

'Kim Nara's company has been after a property in Itaewon for the last year. It's owned by the Kim conglomerate.'

Yoongi's sitting up.

'This Kim conglomerate,' Seokjin clarifies.

'I'll give you mates' rates if you want,' Seokjin offers. 'But if I were you, Yoongi, I'd just throw yourself at her mercy.'

Yoongi's frowning, reeling at the information.

Seokjin sighs. 'If Y/N came to me asking about you, she could offer me Cheongdam-dong and I wouldn't blink. But if she just told me how she loves you so much she couldn't function without you, I'd tell her everything she needed to know.'

He pauses, looks out at the view again. 'Maybe after I tried my damnedest to lure her into my bed and convince her one chaebol son is as good as another.'

Yoongi jumps up, and Seokjin turns back to him.

'If you're going to hit me, avoid my face, please,' Seokjin drawls.

He keeps his arms down, though, as Yoongi pulls him into a hard, quick, hug that's over almost as quickly as it's begun.

Then he's off, heading for the door.

***

Seokjin was right. Kim Nara folded the instant Yoongi turned up at her office.

He'd prepared a speech, with all the reasons why he needed to find you, but in the end all it had taken was a word.

'Please,' Yoongi had said. 'I want to make sure she's all right. I won't push her into anything. I just ---'

His voice had cracked on the word but he'd persevered. 'Please.'

And now Yoongi's stepping off the plane in Geneva, getting into the car that'll take him to your maisonette.

He steps out into the bright sunshine, the crispness of the early spring day.

There's a window box of red geraniums next to your door, and as Yoongi rings the bell, all he can think is that he's looking forward to seeing your face.

He can't wait.

©hamsterclaw 2023

Plsssss 😭 every time vows!Seokjin refers to oc as ‘the brat’ I let out an involuntary squeal. I just want them together too 😩

Seokjin thinks that if he just concentrates hard enough, the voice will go away.

‘Kim Seokjin,’ comes the voice again, effortlessly calling him forth from the depths of his drunken stupor.

Seokjin grunts and tries to return to an unconscious state.

‘Seokjin,’ pleads the voice, and Seokjin’s so unaccustomed to hearing you plead that he cracks open one eye to verify it’s you.

Holy fuck.

That was a mistake. Firstly, because it’s too damn bright in Yoongi’s city apartment, and secondly because you’ve got your hands clasped in front of you in a manner that makes you look angelic.

You have no business looking like that when Seokjin knows how unholy you are.

‘Yoongi’s too heavy, but he can’t stay on the couch, he’ll be uncomfortable. Please Seokjin, I need your help moving him.’

‘Take your clothes off, I’m sure he’ll find a way to follow you into the bedroom then,’ Seokjin suggests.

He throws an arm over his face to add another barrier between you and him.

You sigh. ‘He’s carried you plenty of times when you’ve been trashed,’ you point out.

‘He’s a better friend than me,’ Seokjin agrees, unmoved.

‘Seokjin!’

For some reason, the way you say his name like that, high and exasperated, is faintly arousing.

‘Get out of my room, brat,’ Seokjin groans, turning over.

There’s a voice from the general direction of the door that Seokjin recognises as his best friend’s.

‘For what it’s worth, jagi, Seokjin’s suggestion was a good one.’

Seokjin cracks an eye open again just in time to see you launch yourself into Yoongi’s arms.

Yoongi looks straight at him as he holds you.

‘Let’s go to bed, my love.’ He pauses. ‘You can come if you want, Seokjin.’

Seokjin’s fully awake now.

He wonders what he should do.

Hardcore Wedding Idea

Ok

Listen the H e c k up

Instead of verbally exchanging vows, exchange swords with the vow engraved into the blade.

Brat

Bangtan Christmas drabble 6 - read the rest here.

Kim Seokjin is a lot of things to you. The high school heartthrob you never got with, the fuckboi you hooked up with occasionally in college, and now the chaebol boss you didn't sign up to work for. Things he's never been? A man you can rely on.

Pairing: Seokjin x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Chaebol! Seokjin, Vows AU spin-off, smut, angst, fluff

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, Vows Yoongi

Prologue

Kim Seokjin admires the line of your arm, visible above the covers, thrown up above your head. Your skin is lovely in the low lighting seeping in under his bedroom door. 

You turn over onto your back, stare up at the ceiling. Seokjin isn’t sure if you know he’s awake too, and then you turn to him. 

The curve of your bare breast shifts delightfully as you turn onto your side, a rounded expanse that Seokjin wants to run his tongue over. He’s spent, he’s just come inside you, but his cock, always eager for you, twitches at the view. 

You sigh, and even in the darkness he can see the sweet curve of your lips. 

‘You’re very good,’ you say, almost begrudging even though he’s made you come three times tonight, made damn sure you enjoyed yourself as much as he did. 

Seokjin hums. ‘I’m good to go again if you are,’ he offers. He’s already looking forward to the ache of being hard again, of holding back until you’re crying and senseless underneath him. 

It’s when he loves you best. 

You look at him thoughtfully, as though considering, and then you sit up. The covers slide down off of you, bunching in a heap just high enough to cover the lower curve of your breasts. 

Seokjin’s unabashed about staring at you when you’re together like this.

You roll your eyes. ‘Seokjin.’ Your voice is softer in tone than the usual guardedness you address him with. 

‘Kiss me,’ Seokjin says. The words are out before he quite knew he was going to say them, and they hang in the air. 

He rarely shows vulnerability. He’s Kim Seokjin after all, a scion of the Kim family. He’s wealthy, outrageously good looking, privileged. He gets everything he wants with little effort on his part, and that’s exactly how he likes it.

Except you. 

He’s been trying to get your attention since high school. You sleep with him willingly, but you’ve never once asked for his company without him having approached you.

And here he is, begging for a kiss like some —-

The thought flies out of his head when you lean forward, put your hand on his chest, and kiss him. Your lips are sweet, familiar, and you know how he likes to be kissed. 

You’ve been kissing Seokjin for years, and you’re so good at it he can’t imagine a life without you.

Seokjin breathes in your scent, realises he’s humming quietly as you kiss him. His love for you thrums through his skin everywhere you touch him.

When you pull away, his eyes open.

Your expression is difficult to read. 

‘You’re such an asshole, Seokjin,’ you sigh.

‘I know, but you love it,’ he agrees. ‘Kiss me again.’

You shake your head. ‘I have to go.’

Seokjin says, ‘Stay. I’m good for another round.’

‘I can’t.’ 

‘Worried you’ll fall in love with me?’ he asks, injecting mocking into his tone.

Oh the irony.

‘I’m already in love with you,’ you say. You’re getting up, picking your clothes off the floor. ‘That’s the problem.’

Seokjin’s heart leaps. ‘I’m in love with you too,’ he says, simply. Truthfully.

He thinks he sounded heartfelt, but the history of fucking around between you paints over the present so easily.

You roll your eyes at his declaration. 

‘Convince me next time, Seokjin.’

He slips into the asshole persona he wears all the time around you. 

‘Please,’ he says, feigning nonchalance. ‘I don’t have to convince you of anything. You’ll be back.’

‘Yeah,’ you agree. 

You throw him a smile, affectionate but with a sadness to it that tugs his heart. 

‘See you.’

***

The beginning

‘You’re ridiculous,’ you scoff, fastening your bra.

The man who’s just fucked you breathless doesn’t even blink, stretching languidly on the bed.

He’s so long his feet hang over the edge. He turns over, and despite yourself, you can’t help but admire the expanse of golden skin on show.

You know that his skin is as warm as it looks. 

The sheet covers his ass, just barely. 

You feel like tugging it down so you can admire his bare butt too.

‘I’m ridiculous, but you’re still here,’ Seokjin purrs, turning his head, catching you staring at him.

His smile turns into a smirk. You want to slap it off his face, but you think he’d like that too much.

‘Anyway call me when you want to do this again.’ 

His voice is silken, and between the beautiful tone of it and his gorgeous body and face, you’re sorely tempted to jump back into bed with him.

You pick up your phone and dial. 

He raises an eyebrow at you when his phone rings, but he answers anyway.

‘Y/N?’ he says.

‘Yeah, can we fuck again?’ you ask.

Seokjin says, like the asshole you know he is, ‘Kind of busy right now.’

You glare at him. ‘Busy doing what?’

He laughs, and you marvel at his audacity. 

You hang up and storm out of his apartment.

Your phone rings when you get down to street level, but you don’t answer. 

You’re never going to pander to Kim Seokjin again. This is the last fucking time.

***

When Kim Seokjin was 17, he was the same height he is now, but only half as much of an asshole.

You were the prettier one then, the girl known for her artistic talent. 

He’d approached you one day after school, saying your name as you’d walked past him.

‘Yes,’ you’d answered politely. He was in your class but you ran in different crowds.

‘Can you help me make a card?’ he’d asked. 

‘What kind of card?’ 

‘A greeting card for Valentine’s day,’ he’d explained, walking with you to your next class. 

Sometimes now, when he’s feeling especially dickish, he claims to have kickstarted your entire career as a graphics designer.

You personally think that Seokjin was born to work in his father’s company. He has no discernible talent or skill but he’s always been good at delegating.

Anyway, you’d spent hours creating a beautiful card for him, personalised with the name of one of the prettiest and most popular girls in school.

He’d arrived at your senior prom with her on his arm.

He hadn’t so much as said hello as he’d swanned past you.

You were well into your second year at university before you’d realised he was at the same university as you. 

You were at some house party trying to get away from some drunken jerk when he’d walked right up to you and inserted himself between you and the jerk.

‘Don’t bother,’ he’d said to the jerk in a loud stage whisper. ‘She’s terrible in bed.’

Jerk dispatched, he’d then looked to you for approval.

You blame society for lifting men up who do the bare minimum. 

You’d let him fuck you in one of the bedrooms. 

And then again, a week later, at some other guy’s birthday party.

And then, regrettably, in a skanky club bathroom. 

Your little friends with benefits arrangement with Seokjin had imploded at the end of your final semester of second year. 

You’d been working on your final project with your partner, a quiet but sharply intelligent guy called Yoongi. You and Yoongi had ended up scoring the highest in your class.

You remember standing in the corridor outside the faculty office, admiring your name at the top of the list, when Seokjin had said your name.

Just like that first time, in high school, you’d turned, looked at him, and replied, ‘Yes?’

‘Want to go celebrate?’ he’d asked. 

His idea of a celebration had been to take you to his apartment off campus and to eat you out until you were sobbing his name. 

He’d offered to make you ramen after, which is when you’d discovered he had a roommate. 

Your fiercely intelligent project partner, Yoongi. 

Yoongi had looked as surprised to see you as you were to see him.

He’d given Seokjin a long look that you couldn’t understand, and then apologised to you. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Yoongi had said, politely. ‘Seokjin doesn’t often have guests over.’

‘I can’t imagine why,’ you’d replied. 

‘I just wanted to eat pussy in peace,’ Seokjin had muttered.

‘Don’t be an asshole,’ Yoongi had said, sharply. 

You’d watched in amazement as Seokjin’s mouth had snapped shut.

You’d said something about leaving then, and Yoongi had offered to drive you home, but all you’d wanted to do was get away.

The next time you’d seen Seokjin had been at a wedding of a mutual friend. 

Seokjin had been one of the groomsmen and you’d been a bridesmaid.

He’d smiled at you warmly at the rehearsal dinner, and although you’d been wary at first, he’d looked so handsome in his suit you’d been totally disarmed.

You’d let him pull you into a hug, and his hand had drifted down your back to the top of your ass.

‘Your ass is bigger now,’ he’d murmured.

You’d looked up at him and snapped, ‘Too bad I can’t say the same about your dick.’

He’d frowned. ‘It’s a compliment,’ he’d insisted.

You’d scowled back at him and ignored him for the rest of the dinner.

At the wedding, he’d escorted you down the aisle, quieter than usual. 

He’d been so quiet you’d asked him if he was ok. 

He’d blinked at you and replied that he was hungover and tapped out from fucking the maid of honour after the rehearsal dinner.

You’d dropped his arm as soon as it was acceptable to do so. 

You’d been applying for jobs after your company went out of business, when you’d seen your dream job advertised.

The ad looked like it was tailored for your skillset, the only downside being that it was for a subsidiary of the Kim conglomerate.

Seokjin’s family company. 

You’d run into him after your interview, just as you were leaving.

‘Y/N,’ he’d said, looking genuinely pleased to see you.

You’d been pleased too, before you remembered all of your history together.

‘How’ve you been?’ he’d asked. 

You’d told him about your job interview over drinks, culminating in a night of mind blowing sex.

A few days later you’d been offered the job.

You doubt he’d had anything to do with it, but you’ve never asked.

***

Han Yeri’s the person you work most closely with as part of the design team, and over the past few months she’s become a good friend too.

She eyes you over the screen you’re currently staring at. 

‘Let me guess, you saw him last night,’ she says, tossing a paperclip at you.

You look up at her, surprised.

‘You always look off after you’ve seen him,’ Yeri says, shrugging. ‘Disgruntled.’

Which begs the question, why do you continue to see Seokjin?

You avoid her direct gaze and the unspoken question.

‘I guess I like things that are bad for me,’ you say, morose.

‘Good dick is hard to find,’ Yeri says, ‘and he must be fucking good in bed for you to hate him so much and yet keep coming back to him.’

She’s not wrong.

Seokjin’s incredible in bed.

When you’re with him, really with him, his mouth loses its sardonic twist and softens into smiles and pouts. His height, often used to tower over you when he’s being particularly irritating, becomes thrilling rather than annoying. 

He holds you like he likes you, whispering praise that makes you melt for him, if only for the moments you’re in bed together.

As soon as you get out of bed, though, he makes you want to push him off a cliff.

Yeri’s looking at you, amused. 

There’s a knock on the door behind you, and Yeri straightens up when she sees who it is.

You turn to see Mrs Song, your head of design, accompanied by Kim Seokjin and a man who looks pretty familiar.

The man smiles at you, and as soon as you see the way his face crinkles you recognise him.

It’s Min Yoongi, your project partner from all those years ago.

‘Yoongi!’ you say, greeting him with a big smile.

He says your name, and you notice how beautifully he’s dressed.

‘I don’t get greeted like that,’ Seokjin murmurs so only you can hear.

You ignore him.

Mrs Song clears her throat. 

‘Y/N, you’ll be leading the community engagement project on tech safety, and working closely with teams from Mr Min’s company,’ she informs you.

‘I hope that arrangement is agreeable to you,’ Yoongi says, smiling politely at you. ‘You come highly recommended.’

‘Of course, it’s a wonderful opportunity,’ you say honestly.

‘I’ll have my project lead reach out to you,’ Yoongi promises. ‘What are you doing tonight? I’d love to catch up on what you’ve been doing since uni.’

‘She’s having dinner with me,’ Seokjin interjects smoothly. ‘We’d love for you to join us, Yoongi.’

Yoongi looks between you and Seokjin, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He looks like he’s about to say something but his phone rings, and his slight smile blooms into a full one, lighting up his serious face.

His wedding ring glints as he lifts his phone to answer.

At odds with the soft expression on his face, his tone of voice is neutral, cool, when he answers.

‘Jagiya, let me guess, you’ve hired out our house for filming and we have to move to the pool house for a month.’

His voice lowers, and he laughs softly at the response he gets. 

‘Of course there’s only one bed. I’m having dinner with Seokjin and an old university friend, would you like to join us?’

He listens intently, face softening. ‘Want me to ask Mrs Gye to make you soup? I won’t be late back, ok? Sleep in my bed.’

He rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. ‘I’ll see you later, my love.’

Seokjin pouts when Yoongi hangs up. 

‘You didn’t give her a kiss from me,’ he complains. 

You’re oddly endeared, you’ve never seen this side of Seokjin before. He’s cocky, self obsessed, borderline mean at all times, but never — cute.

‘She doesn’t want kisses from you,’ Yoongi replies, raising a brow, unbothered.

Seokjin scoffs at the absurdity of the notion that anyone might not want a kiss from him.

Yoongi’s already nodding to you. ‘I’ll see you later, Y/N, I’m looking forward to it.’ 

He walks out with Mrs Song. 

You glance at Seokjin to find he’s looking back at you. 

‘We didn’t have dinner plans,’ you say. 

‘I’m aware of that,’ he replies. He doesn’t deign to explain. 

He sighs. ‘I’ll have to call Kara and let her know I can’t see her tonight.’ 

You roll your eyes. 

‘Can you wear that black dress?’ asks Seokjin. 

‘Can you go away so I can work in peace?’ you retort. 

Seokjin blinks like you’ve hurt his feelings. 

You’re about to get back to work when he asks, ‘Are you on your period? Your tits look so nice.’ 

‘Get out of my office, Seokjin.’ 

***

The place you’re meeting Yoongi and Seokjin for dinner is close to your office, thankfully, because you’d lost track of time finishing off a project for a charity.

By the time you arrive, both Seokjin and Yoongi are already seated.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ you say apologetically.

Seokjin gets up to pull your chair out for you, and you don’t miss the look Yoongi throws Seokjin. You hadn’t realised that the two were so close, still.

Yoongi spends a lot of time telling you about his wife. You’re not one for society gossip, but you’ve heard a lot about their unconventional relationship.

It seems to be working for Yoongi, softening his edges, blunting the sharpness of the man you once knew.

Seokjin leans back in his chair across from you, busying himself with ogling the bare skin of your cleavage.

You fix him with a stern glare, but unsurprisingly, he’s undeterred.

‘Behave, Seokjin,’ says Yoongi, mildly, raising a brow. 

‘‘You must spend a lot of time keeping Seokjin in line,’ you say, deliberately trying to provoke Seokjin the way he provoked you. 

‘He only seems to misbehave around you,’ Yoongi observes, neutral. ‘He always has.’ 

You’re surprised, but saved from answering by the arrival of your appetizers. 

***

After the meal, Yoongi’s collected by his driver and Seokjin seems reluctant to leave, lingering by your side, until you say, dryly, ‘Is there anything I can do for you, Seokjin?’ 

He brightens. ‘Yes. I have a bottle of Malbec that I opened yesterday and I need help finishing it.’ 

You snort. ‘Why don’t you bring it over to Kara’s?’ 

He mumbles something that doesn’t make any sense. 

‘Speak up,’ you say, nudging him gently. 

‘I’d rather share it with you,’ he says. 

Your first reaction is disbelief. 

Then you realise he’s still looking at you, face completely serious. 

He doesn’t seem to have a punchline at the ready. 

‘Seeing you with Yoongi made me realise how you’ve been a part of my life for a long time,’ he continues. 

Seokjin shrugs, an elegant slight rise of his broad shoulders. 

‘The wine was a gift, and I’d rather share it with someone who means something to me.’ 

For the second time tonight, you’re stunned into silence. 

Then you scoff. ‘You mean someone you like fucking.’ 

Seokjin laughs, looks away. His profile in the moonlight is beautiful, straight nose, firm jawline, and the curve of his neck makes you think of all the times you’ve kissed him. 

If you really think about it, you’ve kissed him a lot. 

‘I like fucking,’ he admits. ‘I make sure you like it too, don’t I?’ 

You can’t deny it. 

‘I’ll share your Malbec with you, Seokjin, and your bed,’ you say, finally. 

His smile is blindingly pretty, but doesn’t make your heart race so much as the way he reaches over and grasps your hand. 

It feels loose, transient. You’ve never held hands before, not out of bed, anyway. 

You’re thinking of something to say when he says, teasing, ‘God, your hands are clammy.’ 

You try to pull away but he grasps you tighter. 

‘A little sweat never stopped me before,’ he remarks. 

‘Shut up, Seokjin.’ 

He laughs again, but he keeps holding your hand, and you don’t try to pull away again. 

***

The elevator to Seokjin’s penthouse is virtually soundless, doors sliding shut with a snick, elevator rising up with the faintest of hums.

He’s standing closer to you than he has to, body turned towards yours, chest brushing your shoulder.

He leans down, tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, affection in his gaze.

Butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.

You share a smile.

The elevator doors open, and he opens his mouth to speak, but you never hear what he has to say, because as soon as he escorts you out of the lift you’re greeted by a stunning woman in a silken dress, a pout on her lips. 

‘Seokjin,’ she says.

The man in question glances at you, and in his expression you read a mixture of chagrin and embarrassment.

‘Kara,’ Seokjin says, nodding politely.

Kara shoots you a look. ‘I thought we had plans, Seokjin.’

You raise an eyebrow. ‘I thought we had plans too, Seokjin.’

There’s no way you’re making this easy on him.

Seokjin says, ‘I’m sorry I cancelled on you, Kara.’

‘Well it’s fine, you’re here now,’ Kara replies.

You can see the brick red flush travelling up Seokjin’s beautiful neck, although you’re not thinking of kissing him now.

At this rate, he’ll be lucky if you don’t castrate him.

‘Perhaps we’ll share your Malbec another time, Seokjin,’ you say, smooth as silk, extricating yourself from the situation.

He says your name and really it’s your own fault for believing that a man like Kim Seokjin could ever change.

You turn around and exit the way you came.

***

Yeri, sitting on the sidelines beside the batting cage, winces as you swing the baseball bat and knock a ball straight up over the fence.

‘Let me guess,’ she calls. ‘You’re imagining it’s his balls you’re hitting.’

‘Even better,’ you call back, fixing your baseball cap on your head grimly. ‘I’m imagining it’s his face.’

‘He has a pretty face,’ Yeri says, trailing off when you glare at her.

‘No one is arguing that he’s pretty,’ you spit out. ‘That’s why he gets away with it.’

‘With what?’ Yeri asks.

‘Being an irritating, self-centred, cocky, arrogant, asshole!’ 

You miss the next five balls and throw your bat on the ground.

‘Whose idea was it to hold the company sports day here?’ you growl.

‘I’m sure as hell not going to tell you whilst you’re in a murderous rage,’ Yeri says.

She hands you a bottle of water. 

‘Come on, let’s do something else. Something without weapons.’

Which is how you end up in the three-legged race.

You’re waiting for Yeri to finish chatting to friends when you realise that Seokjin’s knelt at your feet.

You feel a tie tightening around your ankle and pull away, but you’re too slow.

‘What the hell, Seokjin,’ you hiss. 

‘I didn’t hear any complaints when I tied you up the other day,’ Seokjin replies. He gets up, brushing off his knees.

You keep forgetting how tall he is.

‘You didn’t complain when I tied you up either,’ you point out.

‘You can do anything you like to me,’ Seokjin replies. ‘Come on, let’s win this race.’

‘It’s not a —‘

You break off when Seokjin wraps an arm around your hip and starts running.

‘I hate losing,’ he tells you.

‘Me too,’ you agree.

Seokjin grins. ‘That’s why I love you.’

Your eyes snap to his, but he’s turned away, focusing on the finish line with a sharp, quiet precision that you have to admit is attractive. 

You wrap your arm around his waist to support yourself and concentrate on keeping up with his longer strides. 

By the time you cross the finish line, he’s bright red and panting, as are you.

‘Did we win?’ 

You look around for confirmation and realise that you’ve come in second.

Seokjin’s kneeling again, loosening the knot, freeing your leg.

You suck in a breath as he rubs his thumb tenderly over the welt in your skin from the tie.

‘Shouldn’t have tied it so tight,’ he says, looking up at you. ‘Does your leg hurt?’

‘Only my pride at coming in second,’ you reply.

He smiles. 

‘Come on, let’s take you home. Unless you want another go at swinging a bat pretending you’re hitting me.’

‘You saw that?’ you ask, grimacing.

‘It’s the same face you make when I tell you no,’ he says, casual.

He smirks at you. ‘You’ve never liked being told no, have you, brat?’

You don’t bother with an answer.

***

Seokjin’s broad back is to you as he soaps up in the shower, his wet hair plastered to his neck.

You’re watching the way his back muscles flex as he moves, when he says, in a knowing voice, ‘Are you staring at me again?’

You scoff. ‘You’re full of it.’

‘And you’re full of me, aren’t you, baby?’ he asks, voice velvety.

He turns around, takes the shower puff out of your hand.

‘Turn around,’ he says. 

You look up at him, deciding whether or not you’re going to do as he says.

‘Stop making that bratty face at me,’ Seokjin says, unphased.

His hand lands on your shoulder, and you let him turn you so you’re facing away from him.

He reaches out, traces the line of your spine with his finger, making you shiver.

‘You’re a pretty girl, aren’t you,’ he muses. 

He washes along your shoulders, down to the dip at the small of your back, runs the shower puff along your ass cheeks.

Then he replaces the puff with his hands, kneading lightly at your shoulders.

He grasps your sides with both hands, thumbs along your spine, fingers splaying under your breasts.

Your breathing quickens as his fingers travel up, cupping the weight of your breasts.

He pulls you closer, snug against his front, so he can hold you flush to him with one arm as he touches your breasts with his other hand.

Your nipples harden with each slow pass of his palm, slick with soap, sensitive from the jets of water streaming down on you.

His cock, nestled between your ass cheeks, grows as he touches you.

‘Look at this body,’ he says, low, into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe. ‘Look how you respond to me.’

You close your eyes and moan as he plucks at your nipples, and his cock swells even more, blunt head now nudging at your entrance.

He tilts his head down, and you turn your face to his for a kiss.

His mouth slants over yours, lips warm, tongue seeking.

You turn to get more of him, and he groans as you plaster yourself to his chest.

His now fully hard cock slots between your thighs, and you tighten them, rubbing yourself against him.

The thick vein along the top of his cock feels so good against your clit.

He leans down so you can get your arms around his neck, takes a step so you’re against the wall, so he can grind against you.

He curls his fingers around his cock, lifting it up so you can rub your clit against the underside of him.

You look down and moan at the view of him against your belly, head glistening with pre-cum.

‘It’s being wasted,’ Seokjin grunts. ‘Here, let me put it inside you.’

He lifts your leg, pulls it against his hip, and enters you.

You’re sore from the sheer number of times you’ve fucked tonight, but your walls still tighten around him, taking him in.

The drag of his cock is such a familiar pleasure you could cry.

He stops when he’s in you all the way, croons your name with an affection that makes your heart feel light.

Like it’s about to take flight in your chest.

Like he means more to you than you care to admit.

‘Seokjin,’ you say, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

‘Stay here with me,’ he says. ‘I’m right here.’

His touch makes you feel simultaneously weighted and like you’re floating.

Each thrust sends you higher, until you’re curled around him so tightly you can barely stand.

‘There you go,’ Seokjin grunts.

He tilts your face to his, kissing you deep, and swallows your cries as you come around his cock.

You’re vaguely aware of him calling your name as he spills inside you, but you’re more aware of how tightly he’s holding you, like he doesn’t want to let you go.

***

Present day

The company New Year’s eve party tends to start off civilised and then rapidly descend into mess and debauchery.

You’re in two minds about whether you want to go to it this year, last year you’d been hit on by Steven from payroll and equally irritatingly, Seokjin had been too busy being fawned over by Sera and Seulgi from finance to do anything but send a few smug smirks your way.

You recap your lipstick, smooth down the sides of your dress, and sigh.

You really ought to go, you’d promised Yeri you’d be there.

By the time you arrive at the venue, the party’s in full swing.

You spot Yeri with her latest crush by the pop-up bar, wave and head off in search of canapes.

You should have left enough time to eat before coming, you realise, looking grimly at the leftovers.

You remember the stash of chocolate you always keep in your desk drawer and head up in the lifts.

There’s a light on in your workspace.

Funny, you don’t remember leaving it on.

You peer around the partition to see Seokjin sitting at your desk.

He looks up guiltily as you tut loudly.

‘There’d better be enough of that chocolate bar left for me,’ you say, pulling up a chair.

Silently, Seokjin hands you the other half of the chocolate.

‘Remember that card you made for me?’ he asks.

‘The one that directly led to you getting laid?’ you ask.

Seokjin grins, crooked.

‘I was going to give it to you.’

You raise an eyebrow, incredulous.

‘Really.’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I chickened out.’

You’re not convinced.

He reaches out, knits his fingers with yours.

There’s something oddly sad about the curve of his mouth.

‘I’m tired of this,’ he says, quietly.

Your heart drops.

‘Tired of us?’ you ask.

His eyes are intent on yours. ‘Tired of not telling the truth.’

‘What’s the truth?’

‘I don’t just want us to fuck around for another ten years.’

If you’re honest with yourself, that’s not what you want either.

You’ve promised yourself you’re not going to pander to Kim Seokjin ever again, but have you ever really given him a chance? 

You’ve always given your body freely to him, but you’ve never really given him access to your heart. 

You’ve been too afraid of getting hurt.

He’s still watching you, so you say, ‘I don’t know if I’m any good at dating, Seokjin.’

‘Me either,’ he says. ‘But there’s no one else I’d rather fuck it up with.’

His fingers are still knitted with yours.

You smile at him, unguarded, for the first time in a long time, and he smiles back.

‘Let’s go,’ he says.

You have no idea where he means to take you, but as you skip down the front steps of the building with him, you feel lighter than ever.

It’s a New Year, and a new start. 

©hamsterclaw 2023

I want to say that ‘The Vows’ couple are my favourite. I keep reading it again and again. There is nothing better than this. I love them so much. Whenever I see any part of it on my dashboard I read it again along with some other parts. I just love it so much. The reader’s character of being bratty, misunderstood, and not evil is so perfectly balanced. And Yoongi accepts her not just tolerates her, this is my fav part of this fic. He is so much in love with her. And even though she makes him really mad he still loves her the same.

OH MY!!! 😭Thank you so much, this analysis is spot on and exactly why I love writing them and I am so so happy that you're enjoying them.

Here’s another little drabble for you because Min Yoongi has been wrecking me today.

Pairing: Vows! Yoongi x reader

Warnings: Sex, swearing, Seokjin

By now, you're pretty good at recognising when your husband is genuinely angry. He's often difficult to read, but you've been making an effort lately, and you're starting to recognise his tells.

When his mouth is in a straight line and his brow's slightly furrowed, he's bemused. It's the expression he had when you hid all his left shoes.

When his brows are drawn together and his mouth opens slightly, he's irritated. He gets like this sometimes when you and Seokjin are arguing.

When his expression goes completely blank, you look at his hands. When his hands are like they are now, loosely clenched, and he looks at you with heat in his gaze, he's angry. It doesn't happen often, but you're quite sure, that on this occasion, Yoongi is angry.

Scratch that. He looks pretty fucking mad.

You think frantically about all the things you've done lately, trying to remember if you've done anything especially provoking.

He’s looking straight at you across the room, and you can feel his eyes burning into you.

What have you done this time?

Your husband's still staring at you, and if he didn't look so damn irresistible in the sharp black suit he's wearing, you'd already be running.

His gaze flicks down over your body, blatantly looking you over in a way that's unusual for him.

Ahhhh fuck.

You stole his suit.

The last time Yoongi and you had to attend a public event together, you went all out. You'd picked up a vintage gown, had it altered to fit you like a second skin, had spent hours being primped and preened just so you could turn up on his arm looking like the most perfect version of you money could buy.

Yoongi had barely blinked. In fact, he'd grumbled something about you making him late to the event.

And so today, when you'd walked past the suit laid out for him in his wardrobe area on the way to the shower, an idea of immense brilliance had flashed into your mind.

You'd reached out, plucked the hanger off the rack, and marched to your room with it clutched in your hand.

You'd sent him some excuse about working late and had told him you'd meet him at the hotel, and then you'd put on his suit.

Crisp white shirt, a jacket with a subtle pinstripe, and a black tie that you'd had to ask Mrs Gye to help you tie. You'd forgone the suit trousers entirely, and the jacket on you is long enough to cover your ass.

Just about.

The piece de resistance though? The platinum collar bar connecting both ends of the collar, tucked under your tie.

You're not entirely sure how you're going to get it off without help, especially since the look on Yoongi's face makes it seem like he's unlikely to want to help you right now.

You like the suit he has on though, now that you can see it more clearly. It's almost identical to the one you have on.

Trust your husband to have a backup suit on standby.

He even has a collar bar like yours, and damn he looks so sexy you want to jump his bones.

Belatedly, you realise the reason you can see all the detail on his suit is that he's much closer than he was when you last checked.

Shit. He's heading straight towards you, face like thunder.

You squeak and back away, straight into the hard chest of Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin sighs wearily.

'At least tell me what panties you're wearing so I have something to jerk off to later,' he says.

'I'll give them to you if you help me get away,' you say quickly, seeing an opportunity.

'You're not going anywhere,' Yoongi says. His hand closes on your arm like a vice.

***

Yoongi’s driving, one hand curled loosely on the wheel, the other on the centre console of his car, close to your bare thigh.

‘Nice suit,’ he says, the first words he’s spoken to you since you left the event.

You smooth the wool over your thigh. ‘Thank you, it’s Valentino.’

Yoongi looks at you like he can’t quite believe your audacity.

‘It looks like the suit I was meant to wear tonight.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask, all innocence.

‘I didn’t know you could tie a tie that well, I should ask for your help next time.’

‘Mrs Gye helped,’ you offer nonchalantly.

‘Where are the pants?’ Yoongi asks. He glances in the rearview mirror, signals to turn.

‘They didn’t fit,’ you say, shrugging.

‘Because they were measured specifically for me,’ Yoongi points out.

You give him a sidelong look.

‘You don’t like me in womenswear or menswear it seems,’ you mutter.

Because you’re watching, you see Yoongi flick his eyes to you.

‘I like you in everything,’ he counters. There’s a pause before he says, ‘and nothing.’

He slows the car, and you look around curiously at the darkness around you.

Yoongi pulls to a complete stop.

‘Why did you steal my suit to wear tonight?’

You don’t have an answer, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to be waiting for one.

‘Is it because I don’t buy you enough beautiful clothes?’ he muses.

‘I buy my own clothes,’ you point out, defiant.

‘Is it because it wasn’t enough for you that I came so hard when you were wearing that ridiculous dress at the last event, I passed out?’

‘You liked that dress?’ you ask, inordinately pleased.

Yoongi glowers at you.

‘If you didn’t act like such a brat all the time, I’d compliment you more,’ he growls.

You raise an eyebrow. ‘You like it when I’m a brat, Yoongi.’

He doesn’t deny it. Instead he looks out the window.

‘How many times do I have to come inside you before you realise how stunning I think you are?’

He turns back to you.

‘Jagiya, I will always think you are beautiful.’

There’s no heat in his voice now, the words come out with a quiet simplicity that rings with honesty.

You’re still processing when he continues, ‘and I will always think you look irresistible in my clothes.’

‘Are you angry with me?’

‘For stealing my suit and leaving me to have a replacement delivered at short notice?’

You turn to him.

‘I’m not angry,’ he tells you. ‘But if I were, how would you make it up to me?’

You bite your lip, then slide your seat back.

‘May I kiss you, Yoongi?’

He’s staring at your lips. ‘Yes.’

You slip your hand down his chest, past his belt buckle, down to his lap.

‘Here?’ you ask, hand over his lap.

‘Fuck, jagiya, please,’ he breathes.

You lean over and undo his pants, slide his half-erect dick out.

Yoongi reaches out, wraps a hand around your (his) tie, loosely.

‘Hey,’ he says, just as your lips touch his cock.

‘Mmm?’

‘Tap me if I’m holding too tight, ok?’

He waits until you nod before he leans back in his seat. His perfectly coiffed hair flicks forward as the back of his head meets the headrest, and his thighs spread as you lick along his cock.

He’s quiet as you suck him to full erection, the only clues you have that he’s enjoying it are the erraticness of his breathing and the way he’s twitching over your tongue.

‘Fuck,’ he groans, fist tightening in your tie, tugging you down.

It’s making the tie tighten around your neck, but you like how it feels.

‘Fu— uh—- uk,’ he groans again, stuttering as you hollow your cheeks and take him all in, the head of his cock nudging the back of your throat.

You swallow, and he slams a hand against the car window.

You reach under, cup his balls, and his hips jerk against your face.

He’s holding you so tight, filling your mouth with his cock so well you can barely breathe.

‘Gonna cum,’ he warns, ‘fuck, I’m gonna —-‘

He doesn’t finish his sentence, moaning long and deep as he shoots his release down your throat.

The tie tightens again, and then he lets go.

‘Jagi, are you ok?’

He’s tipping your chin up to see your face, and the concern in his expression makes you feel warm.

‘I’m ok, oppa.’

He pulls you up to kiss him.

‘Don’t ‘oppa’ me, brat.’

He’s undoing your tie deftly, unthreading the collar bar so he can unbutton your shirt.

‘Let me see,’ he grunts, unbuttoning your shirt rapidly, pulling the plackets apart to expose your lack of bra, the thin, sheer panties you slipped on.

He presses his thumb over your wetness, places his other hand over your exposed front.

‘What do you want, my love?’ he asks. He slides two fingers under your panties, tugs. ‘Want me to kiss you here?’

His knuckles nudge against your core, and he groans. ‘You’re wet, you like sucking my cock, don’t you, jagiya?’

His fingers slip inside you, stretching, scissoring, his movements fast and insistent.

‘Yoongi,’ you cry, and he laughs, thumb rocking back and forth over your clit, making you buck against his hand.

'You're so easy to please, my love,' he taunts.

A lock of hair's fallen over his forehead now, and he looks so good you could cry.

Yoongi cups your breast, squeezes. 'Your little pussy's so fucking tight, I can barely move my hand,' he tells you. 'Gonna come for me?'

You cry his name as your pleasure crests and you press your face into his neck.

Yoongi leaves his fingers inside you but wraps his other arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

The cool metal of his collar bar digs into your cheek.

'I'm gonna help you get re-dressed, ok, baby?' he says, voice low, rumbling in his chest.

'Then I'm going to take you home and we're going to do this again.'

part ten: Vows

This was a short but sweet fic☺️ i love both of the characters and how they just want to love each other even though its an arranged married🥺🥺🥺

Vows | JJK

›› AU: Mafia + Arranged Marriage ›› Genre: Angst  ›› Rating: PG-13 (Brief mentions of blood) ›› Word Count: 975 ›› Prompts: To feel safe + Thunderstorm ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles

That time when Jungkook wasn’t in bed when you woke up.

Thunder startles you awake. Fear coursing through your veins, you instinctively reach beside you, only to find Jungkook’s side of the bed cold and empty. Has he not been home yet? Looking at the clock, you see that it’s almost five in the morning. He is never home this late without notice. Not once in these past four months that you’ve been married to him have you woken up to an untouched bed. 

Your heart hammers in your chest, the rain that plummets down against your window doesn’t help. Storms don’t scare you, but the crashing sounds of thunder and lightning put you on edge. They make it impossible for you to sleep. 

Jungkook’s presence would be welcome right now. As much as you kicked and screamed when your family had demanded you married the son of another mafia boss, you had no other choice. Now, you find that there would’ve been worse men to have to marry than him. Even if your marriage wasn’t out of love, but the mere need to unite two clashing fronts, it’s not all bad. 

Keep reading

Vows Are Just Wows.

Days when I felt sick

Days when I felt tired

Days when I felt my each and every dream is crashing in front of my eyes

Days when I woke up feeling numb

Days when i just felt like giving up on my life

I still lived just for you

Just for you

Just for you

Because in the end my ultimate goal was to meet you, “my husband”  and to just stay with him in all of his wax and wane moments; till death put us apart.

Days when universe didn't made us meet to the day today, here taking my vows with you in front of our beloved ones.

Its always gonna be you no matter what you do. I’ll choose you over and over again.

I know you and me and our forever seems disastrous but I know if situation gets out of track…… We will always make it right for you, for me…..for our forever and then some.

I Love You Forever and ever.

-Eshika Shah

vows / restraints / don't move (see the chains around my feet)

Ed shuffled her feet nervously, vowing to listen to Jet in the future when he said not to take things into her own hands.

The chains around her feet were an effective restraint, much like the manacles that held her arms bound just above her head. As someone who had never so much as enjoyed trapping her toes inside shoes, this was torturous in and of itself. She was like a bird in a cage, except there was a gag around her mouth so she couldn't even sing.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and felt a rush of relief as she saw Faye-Faye stir where she'd been similarly trussed up.

When the other woman had failed to check in, Ed had gotten worried. She'd been back on the Bebop for only a week or two now and things there were still getting back to what she was used to before. Jet hobbled about the ship attending to the endless repairs needed to get it space worthy again while Spike remained incapacitated on the couch. That meant it was up to Ed to be the backup Faye clearly needed against this bounty head. She'd left Ein watching over Spike and had made off with the Swordfish II before Jet could realize she was up to something. He'd been convinced that Faye was fine and just being her usual unreliable self. Had forbidden Ed from going after her.

But Ed had known something was wrong. She'd come back to the Bebop originally because she had realized, after scouring the Earth for weeks looking for her father, that she preferred being someplace where people had your back. Where someone remembered to set out a plate for you for dinner. Where they looked after one another. And that meant she couldn't simply sit and wait for Faye to save herself - she had to act!

Getting caught by the extortioner hadn't been part of her plan though. The chains were cold and heavy against her ankles and the manacles were digging into the sensitive skin of her wrists. She had tried and tried to pull her hands through the metal circles but had only succeeded in making her forearms slick with blood leaking from the abrasions. Escaping handcuffs was more difficult than the videos she'd watched had led her to believe.

"Don't move." Faye's voice rang out clearly. She'd obviously woken all the way up and had realized they were alone in the damp basement of the abandoned house. The gag that had been around her mouth had been worked down until it was under her chin.

"Ed can almost break free!" She insisted, wincing as she tried to contort her hands again. Her gag had ensured that her words were muffled probably beyond understanding but Faye was smart and could see what Ed was up to.

The other woman sighed. "Ed. You're hurting yourself. Hold still, would you? Let me just..." There was an odd sound and then Faye's arms dropped down from the cuffs they'd been locked in. "Give me a minute to get these chains off my feet and then I'll come get you loose."

Ed felt a rush of pride at her companion's abilities and relief that she could stop straining her arms in her attempt to break free. It wasn't even embarrassing to have to be saved, not when she was learning something from her mistakes!

Once Faye had gotten the chains off and moved over to Ed, lowering her gag first, she set to make quick work of the restraints.

"Faye-Faye, you've saved the day! Ed came to rescue you! Will you teach Ed how to bust free? Videos didn't help! Please, please?"

Faye bared her teeth at Ed in a fierce grin. "You bet I will, Ed." The older woman vowed. "There's no way I want you stuck in a situation like this on your own, unable to do anything for yourself except scar up your arms. Now, will you stay down here while I go check if the upstairs is clear or should I assume you're gonna be right on my heels?"

"Ed wants to help! This guy had cuffs that fit my tiny wrists - that means he's held kids hostage before as blackmail. Ed is not about to let him roam free!"

Faye sighed. "Well, okay then but you need to stay out of my way, all right? Stay behind me and cover my back. Let me handle all the hard hitting." She glanced around at the space they were in. "C'mon, I'm gonna kick out those pipes over there. We need some weapons and I think those will do just fine..."