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hamsterclaw · 6 months

Text

Shiner

You've grown to love your emotionally unavailable husband, but part of you wonders if he feels the same about you. The final part of the Vows series, read the rest here.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Genre: Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: Sex, swearing, Yoongi gets a black eye

Rating: 18+

Word count: 6k

You blink yourself awake and stare blankly at the ceiling, trying to orientate yourself.

Yoongi’s bed. You can tell by the smoothness of the white ceiling, and if you widen your senses, by the feel of the soft, crisp sheets under you.

His smell on the pillow under your head.

You gradually become aware of an ache in your jaw, like you’ve been grinding your teeth.

You turn your head to look at the other side of the bed.

The throbbing headache hits you like a sledgehammer to the temples. You moan a little and close your eyes again, but it doesn’t stop the room from swirling wavily around you.

Oh shit.

You’re going to be sick.

You leap up, stagger to the bathroom, curl your arm around the cool porcelain of the toilet and hurl.

The contents of your stomach splatter into the water, and you groan again, retching until there’s nothing left inside you but bile.

You look up frantically when you hear footsteps.

Yoongi?

He’s meant to be on a business trip.

You fumble for the flush and jump up to wash your face.

Your husband’s seen you in all forms of unattractive but he doesn’t need to see you with vomit on your face.

You splash water on your face, look around hurriedly for your toothbrush.

Just in time.

Yoongi appears around the corner of the bathroom door, nose wrinkled.

‘It smells like sick in here,’ he observes.

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I’ll get it cleaned up.’

Yoongi approaches you.

‘I’m not surprised you were sick, considering how drunk you were last night.’

You freeze with your toothbrush in your mouth and goggle at him.

Questions run through your head.

Why is Yoongi back early from his business trip?

How does he know you were out last night?

And finally, why the fuck does your husband have a black eye?

You rinse and spit, open your mouth to ask, but all that comes out is a whimper.

Yoongi looks at you unsympathetically as you press your fingers over your eyeballs.

‘Come on brat, Mrs Gye made us breakfast.’

***

You reach for the toast in the middle of the table and frown, confused, at your bruised knuckles.

The skin’s split over your index, and the rest of your hand is bruised.

Yoongi says, taking a sip of coffee, ‘you throw a mean left hook, wife.’

You gape at Yoongi.

‘I punched you?’

Yoongi looks at you thoughtfully. ‘Don’t you remember?’

You dredge through the haziness of the night before, trying to remember.

‘Why did I punch you, Yoongi?’

Yoongi gives you a level look.

‘Think hard, wife.’

You realise Yoongi’s skipped all the endearments he usually uses for you.

In fact, he’s been distant with you all morning.

‘I’m sorry, Yoongi, I can’t remember,’ you plead. ‘Can you tell me?’

Yoongi finishes his coffee, gets up.

‘I have an important meeting in a couple hours,’ he says. ‘I need to get ready.’

As he leaves the room you can’t help but feel you’ve done something terribly wrong.

***

A week earlier

You know Yoongi doesn’t like it when you fuss over him when he leaves for business trips, but you can’t help it this time, when he’ll be gone on the day of your wedding anniversary.

It’s not your first wedding anniversary, you’ve been married for years, but it’s the first one since you proposed to him.

Yoongi had laughed when you pointed it out.

‘You and your romantic heart, jagiya,’ he’d said, affectionately.

You’d laughed at his expression, but you’d felt a pang of disappointment in your chest just the same.

You’d changed the subject quickly, and he hadn’t brought it up again.

Now you’re standing on the front steps of your house in your pyjamas to say goodbye.

‘I might come see you in Bruges,’ you say hopefully, as Yoongi leans in to give you a hug.

‘I wouldn’t bother,’ Yoongi says, practical as always. ‘I’ll be working flat out.’

He studies your expression, and his face softens.

‘I’ll be back soon enough,’ he promises you.

He lowers his lips to yours, wraps you in his arms.

‘Eat well when I’m gone, ok? Look after yourself.’

‘I will,’ you reply. You reach out for him again, but he’s already stepping away, getting into the car.

You wave him goodbye with your best smile.

***

Your phone lights up in your peripheral vision as you’re getting ready for bed.

You grab it so quickly it flips out of your hands onto the floor.

You swipe quickly.

Your husband’s beautiful face fills the screen. He’s got one hand loosening his tie as he sits back.

‘Hey,’ you say, teasing. ‘Do I know you?’

Yoongi smiles at you. ‘Forgotten me already? Don’t worry, I left you something to remember me by.’

You tilt your head at him quizzically.

‘Check the bedside drawer, jagiya.’

‘How’d you know where —-‘

‘You always sleep in our room when I go away,’ Yoongi replies briskly.

‘You don’t know me,’ you mutter, out of habit.

Yoongi just laughs. ‘Go on, check.’

You reach over and pull it open, pick up the gift box and card inside.

‘Open it,’ urges Yoongi.

You tear open the card.

It’s plain ivory cardstock, with a message in your husband’s familiar, barely legible scrawl.

Happy wedding anniversary. I’m sorry I can’t be there.

The rush of emotion you feel takes you by surprise.

You flip your screen so he can’t see you blinking away tears.

Yoongi’s voice sounds through your phone.

‘I can hear you sniffling,’ he says, dryly.

‘Allergies,’ you reply.

‘Are you allergic to me being a perfect husband?’ asks Yoongi, sounding completely serious.

You furrow your brow.

‘If the card makes you this emotional, wait until you see the present,’ Yoongi says.

‘I’m opening it now,’ you tell him as you unravel the silver bow and lift the lid.

You’re grateful Yoongi can’t see your face as you stare at the delicate bracelet in the box.

It’s beautiful, expensive, tasteful.

You have no idea why it makes you feel so flat.

You muster up as much enthusiasm as you can as you say, ‘It’s beautiful! Thank you, Yoongi.’

You flip the screen so he can see you.

He looks worried.

‘If it’s not to your taste, jagiya —-‘

‘It’s very beautiful, Yoongi,’ you assure him. You fiddle with the clasp, wrap it around your wrist. ‘I like it a lot.’

You lift your wrist to the camera so he can see.

‘I haven’t got you anything yet,’ you say, worriedly. ‘I was hoping to see you on our anniversary —-‘

Yoongi says, quietly, ‘I’d love to see you, but I can’t promise you much time.’

‘I don’t care if there’s not much time,’ you say. ‘I can take care of myself, Yoongi, I’d love to see you too.’

‘Let’s think about it, ok?’ Yoongi says. ‘We can decide tomorrow.’

Now he sounds tired too.

You feel guilty for pressing when you know he has a lot on his plate.

‘Sure,’ you say, trying to turn the mood of the conversation around.

You smile brightly. ‘Thank you for my gift, Yoongi.’

‘I’m glad you like it, jagi.’

‘I should let you get some sleep.’

He doesn’t protest.

‘Good night, Yoongi.’

‘Good night.’

***

You and Yoongi never actually agreed that you would fly in to see him, and you feel a twinge of nervousness as you step out of the airport in Ostend.

This close to Christmas, the weather’s chilly, and although it’s early evening, it’s already dark. You wrap your scarf around you as you wait for your car.

At the hotel, you realise you don’t know Yoongi’s suite number.

You bite your lip nervously as you wait for Yoongi to answer your call.

The dial tone rings out.

You’re trying to decide what to do next when he walks into the hotel.

Your beautiful, polished husband, skin glowing and flushed with cold, his dark hair and eyes in striking contrast, his perfectly fitted navy coat unbuttoned over his perfectly fitted suit, walks in with his media director Park Gyuri.

His stunning ex-model ex-girlfriend Park Gyuri.

Your stomach drops, and it’s at that exact moment that he looks over and sees you.

He blinks at you, open-mouthed, then he’s changed direction and is walking over to you.

‘Jagiya,’ he says, as soon as he’s close enough.

He wraps you in a hug, and you hold him tightly to give yourself time to gather your composure.

You’d known that Gyuri was going to be on his business trip, she and Yoongi travel together often, she’s a core part of his team.

It was one thing knowing it, and another to see them walk in together.

Belatedly you realise the rest of Yoongi’s team have arrived too.

Yoongi pulls back to plant a kiss on your lips, and you hope he can’t feel the hammering of your heart.

‘It’s so good to see you,’ Yoongi says.

You meet his gaze.

Your husband is stunning, of course, but he also looks tired.

‘I hope it’s ok that I came,’ you say.

You sound formal even to yourself, and Yoongi frowns a little.

‘Of course it’s ok, I’m happy you made it,’ Yoongi tells you.

‘I’m free this evening, we can have dinner together. I’ll get Sungho to make a reservation, ok?’

Yoongi glances around, looking for your bag. ‘Did you bring any luggage, jagiya?’

‘I have to leave tomorrow,’ you tell him. ‘I didn’t bring any pyjamas, is that ok?’

There’s a spark in your husband’s eye. ‘It’s ok, I’ll keep you warm.’

‘That’s what I hoped,’ you say.

Yoongi laughs, grips your hand firmly. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he says, dropping a kiss on your head, and the tightness in your chest finally starts to ease.

***

By the time you step out of the shower, Yoongi’s sprawled out on the huge sofa, so quiet and still you know he’s asleep.

You sit yourself next to him. Like this, his face is at ease, the frown line between his brows that you’ve seen more often lately smoothed out.

You rarely acknowledge to yourself how much you love him. You’re scared it might be too much.

You run a hand down his chest, and he grunts softly, shifts so he’s flat on his back.

Your hand catches on his belt.

You undo it deftly, because it must be uncomfortable sleeping with a belt on, right?

You don’t really have an excuse for why you undo his suit trousers, apart from that you know your husband wouldn’t mind.

The scritch of his zipper unzipping makes him crack an eye open.

‘Jagiya,’ he says, voice so deep it makes you shiver, ‘what are you up to?’

You look up at him through your lashes.

‘I’m taking care of you Yoongi,’ you tell him.

You press a kiss to his tummy, right above the waistband of his boxer briefs. ‘Can I?’

Yoongi’s looking at you, eyes darkening as you tug down his waistband, expose him.

‘I had plans for us,’ he says, as you curl your hand around his semi-hard cock.

You smile at him. ‘Me too.’

Yoongi lets out a long breath as you nudge your nose along his cock, breathing in deep.

You take him in your mouth, tongue against the underside of him, sucking a little, enjoying the way he swells up for you.

Yoongi’s got his head back against the back of the sofa, throat working as he reaches full erection. He moves his hips under you, grasps your shoulder.

You reach out to his hand, splayed on the sofa, and knit your fingers through it.

If you were looking at his face, you’d see Yoongi’s expression change, the tenderness in his expression as he squeezes your fingers gently.

You’re not, you’re looking at his cock, all your attention set on giving him as much pleasure as you can.

He’s hard, and you can feel the way he jerks as you undo the tie on your robe to reveal that you’re bare underneath it.

You tug your hand away from his so he can touch you, well you try to, but Yoongi holds on to you.

He murmurs ‘jagi’ on a sigh, his voice beautiful like this, deep, mellow, rich.

You glance up at him, and he’s watching you, his dark eyes so intense you don’t want to look away.

You pull away, and his hips rise, as if to follow.

‘Make me messy, oppa,’ you say.

Yoongi smiles, wolfish, a flash of teeth. ‘Come sit on me.’

He unbuttons his shirt because he knows you like it when he’s bare-chested, reaches to steady your hips as you climb on top of him, like you’ve done so many times before.

He tugs your robe off your shoulders, slides his hand under, his hand warm against your skin.

He hisses through his teeth as you start to move.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he tells you as he runs his hand over your front, making your nipples peak, pinching, kneading your flesh.

‘Yeah?’ you say.

There’s an unwanted flash in your mind, the image of him and Park Gyuri walking into the hotel.

You push it away.

‘I always miss you,’ Yoongi says.

‘Don’t be romantic, Yoongi, it’s not your style,’ you say, teasing.

If there’s a tug at your heart when you say it, you hope it doesn’t show on your face.

Yoongi says, quietly, ‘I’ll be as romantic as you want me to be, jagiya.’

You can’t look at him, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s been rubbing his thumb over your clit, doing something with his hips that’s pulling you out of your feelings and into a tide of pleasure.

You moan, deep, and Yoongi grunts, lifts his head to suck the tip of your breast into his mouth.

You come with a cry of his name, and Yoongi groans. ‘That’s my girl, fuck.’

He utters your name, stretched out, over stuttering breaths, and you realise he’s coming too.

When your breathing slows and your heartrate settles you realise that he’s still holding your hand.

***

You wake, with a start, to your alarm alerting you to the fact that you’ll miss your flight home if you don’t haul ass.

Yoongi, beside you, is turned away, his back to you.

The regularity of his breathing tells you he’s still asleep.

You get dressed, and sit on the edge of his side of the bed to say goodbye.

He’s always been beautiful, your husband, but he also looks so tired you haven’t the heart to wake him. He hasn’t stirred the entire time you’ve been getting ready.

You press a kiss to his cheek and make your way out of the hotel room.

***

Your best friend Nara’s always been on your side, supporting you in the best ways. When you and Yoongi were estranged in the early years of your marriage, she helped you plot some of your more elaborate stunts.

It’s always worked both ways, of course, you were the first to support her design house, wearing her creations to all the most high-profile society events, backing her financially when her family threatened to cut her off for not going into the family business.

Nara’s always been the practical one, the shrewd business mind to your impulsive nature, providing balance. You’re an effective combination, and before your reconciliation, Yoongi had borne the brunt of your antics.

You’ve always marvelled at the way he’s never tried to reciprocate.

Nara eyes you over your cocktail.

‘What did Yoongi do now?’ she asks. ‘I thought he’d be thrilled to see you in Bruges.’

‘He was happy to see me,’ you tell her. This much you know, that he had been pleased to see you. You wish you’d been able to spend more time with him, but he’d said from the beginning that he’d been busy.

‘Gyuri was with him.’

Nara blinks. ‘She’s part of his team.’

Her statement is blunt, factual, but there’s sympathy in her eyes.

You down the rest of your cocktail.

‘You can never trust chaebol sons,’ says Nara, gently, ‘we grew up with enough assholes that we know that.’

You signal the waiter for a refill.

‘But Yoongi is less of an asshole than the rest,’ Nara concedes. ‘Not like that fucking Kim Seokjin.’

You choke on the water you’ve just taken a sip of.

‘You never did say what happened after you and Seokjin went to see Lee Sangcheol,’ Nara says, raising an eyebrow.

‘We’re gonna need more drinks,’ you sigh.

Five cocktails in, you’re watching with drunken amusement as Nara takes apart a hapless would-be suitor with her razor sharp wit.

Unlike you, Nara’s tolerance for alcohol is legendary.

You?

The room’s dim and wavy around the edges, and you’re feeling maudlin about your trip to visit Yoongi.

You look up, blinking curiously, as a man approaches you.

He looks vaguely familiar, in fact he looks like your husband, but you’ve been seeing shades of Yoongi in almost everyone in this bar tonight.

God, you miss him so much.

***

Yoongi can tell by the way you’re holding yourself rigidly upright that you’re drunk.

You look up at him, no recognition in your eyes.

Yoongi nods to Nara and turns back to you.

‘Would you like some water?’ he offers, signalling to the waiter.

‘No thank you,’ you reply. ‘I’d like another cocktail.’

Yoongi orders you both a refill and some water.

Your wedding ring sparkles as you lift the glass to your lips.

Yoongi’s vaguely amused to see that you chose to drink water first.

‘Are you having a nice time?’ he asks.

You consider his question carefully.

‘Yes, my friend and I are having a great night,’ you reply, finally. ‘And yourself?’

‘I’m not usually out at this time,’ Yoongi replies, honestly. ‘This is a rarity for me.’

‘Ah,’ you say, looking at him with interest. ‘What’s the occasion?’

You still haven’t acknowledged him with anything other than politeness, and Yoongi realises, with a flash of clarity, that you’re so intoxicated you don’t recognise him.

‘I wanted to support a friend,’ he answers. He guesses it’s true, at least this way Nara won’t be responsible for getting you home tonight.

You glance fondly at Nara. ‘Friendship is important.’

You smile at him for the first time. ‘Where’s your friend?’

‘Ah, they’re busy.’

You’re steadily sipping your way through the rest of your cocktail.

‘You’re very beautiful,’ Yoongi says, neutral.

‘Thank you,’ you reply. ‘You’re very good looking yourself. I’m sure if you’re looking for company, you won’t be short of offers.’

Yoongi swallows a laugh at your encouragement.

‘Can you keep me company?’ he asks.

‘Ah sorry, it’s girl’s night,’ you say, still polite. ‘Also I’m married.’

‘He’s a lucky man,’ Yoongi says.

You smile. ‘I’m not sure he’d agree,’ you say, lightly. There’s a note of melancholy in your voice that makes Yoongi look at you carefully.

‘Oh, I just mean I’m a terrible wife,’ you clarify. ‘I’ve done some awful things to him.’

Yoongi pours you more water.

‘Whatever you’ve done, it can’t be that bad,’ he offers.

You scoff, and he bites back a smile as you look at him scornfully.

‘I’m capable of extremely terrible things,’ you insist.

Helplessly endeared by your solemn, drunken expression, Yoongi touches your face.

‘Do you really not recognise me, jagiya?’ he asks.

You jerk away from his hand, nearly lose your balance.

Yoongi pulls you into his arms to stop you from falling.

He hears your gasp of outrage, and a moment later, the crack of skin against skin.

Even through the flare of pain, Yoongi’s stunned at the realisation that you’ve just punched him in the face.

***

Present day

By the end of the day, Yoongi realises he hasn’t heard anything from you all afternoon.

He heads to your rooms, knocks on the door tentatively.

When there’s no response, he pushes the door open anyway.

You’re sitting curled up on the floor, leaning against your bed, facing the patio doors.

As he approaches you, you grimace. ‘Stay away, I’m probably contagious.’

Yoongi takes in the clamminess of your skin, the way your hair’s stuck to your forehead.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling ill? Have you been like this all day?’

He’s concerned, but he can see the way you flinch a little at the harshness of his voice.

‘I’m fine, Yoongi, I drank too much and my head hurts.’

‘Seems like more than a hangover,’ Yoongi says. He brushes your hair back from your face. ‘Have you taken any meds?’

You gesture sadly towards the dressing table, barely six feet away.

‘Everytime I move, the room spins,’ you tell him.

Yoongi frowns. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling so bad? Come on, get into bed.’

‘I can’t,’ you tell him. ‘I’ll be sick if I move.’

‘You can’t stay like this,’ Yoongi says, exasperated.

‘Stop scolding me,’ you mumble, closing your eyes. ‘Go away.’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Yoongi says. He takes a breath. ‘You shouldn’t drink so much.’

‘It was you,’ you say, suddenly. ‘It was you who groped me at the bar last night.’

Yoongi’s outraged. ‘I didn’t grope you, I tried to stop you from falling!’

‘You touched my face!’ you complain. ‘I thought you were a stranger.’

‘At least I don’t have to worry about you looking after yourself,’ Yoongi muses. ‘You can beat up anyone who comes on to you.’

‘Damn right,’ you agree.

Yoongi sighs. ‘I’m going to get you some water and meds and then I’m going to put you to bed, ok? Can I do that, or are you going to punch me again?’

‘Just don’t grope me,’ you warn.

‘You recognise me now don’t you? You never complained about me groping you before,’ Yoongi points out.

‘Stop scolding me!’

‘I’m not —’

Yoongi huffs out a breath. ‘I promise I won’t grope you if you promise not to punch me.’

‘My hand hurts,’ you whine.

‘You want sympathy?’ asks Yoongi, unsympathetically.

He sighs. ‘Wait here. Let me get you a drink.’

‘Gin and tonic,’ you mutter.

Yoongi ignores you.

***

Yoongi’s trying to finish reading the specs his product development team has sent him, but it’s difficult to concentrate.

There’s something weighing on his mind.

It’s you, which isn’t unusual, but what is unusual is the way he feels.

Uneasy, like he’s missing something.

There’s a knock on his study door.

‘Dinner in fifteen?’ you ask, peering around the heavy oak.

You look very pretty today, Yoongi notes to himself.

You’re already closing the door when he calls, ‘Hey.’

You look at him enquiringly.

‘You look pretty.’

You smooth your hand over your hip self-consciously. ‘I feel better.’

‘I was worried about you,’ Yoongi tells you.

You gesture vaguely to his face. ‘Your eye looks better.’

‘Come kiss it,’ Yoongi says.

It always amuses him, the way you get a little flustered when he asks for affection.

Yoongi pushes away from his desk as you approach him.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say, softly, as you cup his face and press a gentle kiss to his brow.

‘I deserved it,’ Yoongi replies. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t around for our wedding anniversary. I know that it mattered to you.’

‘It was silly,’ you say, but he can tell by the way you drop your gaze that he’s touched a nerve.

‘It’s not silly, of course you want to celebrate being married to me,’ Yoongi says.

You scoff. ‘You want two black eyes instead of one?’

Yoongi reaches for your hand, presses a kiss to your still-bruised knuckles.

‘Don’t break your hand on my hard skull,’ he says, very gently.

‘I have a company dinner next week,’ you say, in an obvious attempt to hide how flustered you are.

Yoongi says, ‘Are you asking me to accompany you?’

You blink at him. ‘Would you like to?’

‘I’d love to,’ Yoongi tells you.

***

You fiddle with the clasp of the stunning bracelet Yoongi gave you for your anniversary.

Objectively, it’s perfect, the diamonds sparkling like stars even in the flattering low lighting of the ballroom at this wedding Yoongi and you have been invited to.

You’re trying not to think too much about why it leaves you feeling so empty.

He’d clearly spared no expense, you’ve seen this exact bracelet in the pages of a glossy magazine, and the workmanship is incomparable.

Yoongi’s voice makes you look up.

‘They’re cutting the cake,’ he murmurs to you. ‘We should head back to our table.’

‘I’ll meet you there,’ you tell him. ‘Save me some.’

You head for the ladies room to compose yourself and touch up your makeup.

You’re retouching your lipstick when one of the doors opens, and Park Gyuri walks out.

She smiles when she sees you, nods a greeting. She takes the sink next to yours, and as she unclasps her purse a fiery sparkle draws your attention.

On her left wrist, a bracelet identical to yours.

It’s beautiful, you think it suits her better than it does you.

Now you know why the bracelet’s been bothering you as much as it has.

It represents everything about the chaebol life both you and Yoongi were born into, but though your husband seems perfectly at home in this microcosm, you’ve never truly felt like you belonged.

It makes you feel like Yoongi sees you as someone you’re not, and by extrapolation, that he doesn’t know you as well as he should, despite all you’ve been through.

As well as you want him to.

You force a smile at Gyuri, make yourself walk on legs that feel oddly stiff to exit the bathroom.

Back at your table, Yoongi rises to pull your chair out as you approach. Something in your expression makes him lean closer, voice low and worried.

‘Jagi, are you feeling ok?’

You nod, the smile on your face so frozen it feels like a rictus, a caricature of happiness.

You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you, but you don’t think you can give him anything else right now, stricken as you are.

His hand finds yours under the table, and you draw comfort from his touch until the hurt and anger recedes and the tears retreat from behind your eyelids.

***

You’re not sure what’s changed, but Yoongi’s been so attentive lately it’s starting to make you feel uneasy.

You’re trying to zip up the back of your cocktail dress, and before you can even look in his direction, he’s behind you, hands warm on your bare back as he helps you with the zip.

You turn around, look him in the face.

‘What’s up, husband?’

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you. ‘You seemed like you couldn’t reach.’

‘Not the zip,’ you say, testy. ‘Why are you so —’

Yoongi waits, like he genuinely doesn’t know why you’re so tetchy.

‘Why are you paying me so much attention? I swear, I’m not plotting anything.’

Yoongi looks like he’s trying not to smile.

‘I don’t think you’re plotting anything.’

‘Then why?’

‘Why can’t I pay you attention?’ Yoongi asks. ‘We’re married.’

‘You never paid me this much attention before,’ you point out.

Yoongi’s brow furrows. ‘Do you want me to ignore you?’

‘Yeah.’ You wave a hand. ‘Go back to ignoring me.’

‘Do you really want that?’ Yoongi asks. He glances in the mirror, straightens his tie.

‘I like asshole Yoongi,’ you tell him.

Your eyes meet in the mirror.

‘I can be an asshole,’ Yoongi says, finally. ‘But I don’t want you to be unhappy because of me.’

‘Since when do you care?’ you say, teasing.

Yoongi sighs. ‘I’ve always cared. I don’t like it when you’re sick and you don’t tell me, and I sure as hell don’t like it when you’re unhappy and don’t tell me why.’

‘You make me happy,’ you tell him. There’s a fluttering in your chest at his words, your taciturn, coolly detached husband isn’t normally this expressive.

‘I’m glad, because you make me happy too.’

Yoongi glances at the bracelet he got you, that you’ve got ready to put on.

‘Don’t wear that,’ he says. ‘You won’t tell me why, but I know you hate it.’

You stare at him.

‘Don’t deny it,’ Yoongi says. He gives you a look, a challenge in his eyes.

‘You don’t know me,’ you mutter, out of habit.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. ‘I do know you, wife, and that’s the problem. You’re a brat.’

You scowl at him. Yoongi looks supremely unmoved by your pique.

‘Come on, I don’t want us to be late for your company dinner.’

He takes the liberty of slapping his palm against your ass as he ushers you out of the door, and you don’t even have it in you to pretend to be mad about it.

***

Yoongi’s by the bar, waiting to be served, watching idly as you converse with your social media team.

He’s never been to one of your company events before, it’s rare that you invite him, and he likes seeing you with your colleagues.

You’re well-liked, everyone seems to want to talk to you.

He’s trying to suppress the urge to pull you into a corner and kiss you silly, because you look so pretty when you’re smiling and confident like this, when a conversation catches his ear.

‘I’m pretty surprised that Min Yoongi’s here – I thought they were estranged,’ says a woman by the bar.

‘Everyone knows he’s fucking Park Gyuri,’ says the man next to her, with a casual cruelty that makes Yoongi’s hand itch to slap him.

Yoongi steps out in front of them, levels them with a look.

‘I’m not fucking anyone apart from my wife,’ he says, mildly. ‘Although I fail to see how that’s anyone’s business but ours.’

There’s a stir, but Yoongi’s lost interest. He turns away from the bar, heads straight for where you are in the middle of the room.

The smile on your face when you see him does a lot to curb his irritation.

‘Yoongi,’ you say, hand on his arm. ‘They’re about to serve food.’

Your touch eases his annoyance, soothes him the way it always has.

‘Let’s get you something to eat, jagiya,’ Yoongi says.

He holds out his arm, feeling the familiar sense of connection thrumming through him as you slip your hand in the crook of it.

It’s everything.

***

Yoongi pulls out of the hotel, signals to turn towards home.

‘Did you have a nice time, Yoongi?’ you ask.

You’re leaning back against the seat, face tilted to his, half-shadowed in the darkness of the car.

‘I liked it,’ Yoongi replies. ‘You should invite me to more of these things.’

‘You’re welcome to come anytime,’ you say.

‘I will,’ Yoongi says.

‘I heard that you stood up for us at the bar,’ you begin, a little hesitant.

Yoongi glances at you in the rearview mirror.

‘You know about that?’ he asks, quietly.

‘People talk a lot of shit,’ you say. Yoongi doesn’t know if you’re consciously doing it, but your shoulders are squared, and there’s a stubborn tilt to your chin now.

He’s never loved you more.

‘They do,’ agrees Yoongi.

You’re both quiet as he drives.

It’s only when he parks up, at your home, that you speak again.

‘Thank you for coming with me,’ you say.

There’s a beat, two of searing eye contact.

Then Yoongi reaches out, cups the back of your head, and takes the kiss he’s wanted all night.

You melt into his arms like you’ve been waiting for exactly this.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ Yoongi murmurs, lips against your skin.

***

Yoongi’s different tonight, holding you with an urgency you haven’t felt from him before. He’s focused completely on you, and as much as you love it, love him, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something behind it.

You cup his face as he leans over you.

‘Hey,’ you say. ‘You know we have all night?’

Yoongi’s hand stills on your side.

‘Am I rushing?’

‘I’m just saying I’m here, Yoongi, I’m not going anywhere.’

Yoongi closes his eyes, leans into your hand, shudders out a breath.

‘What’s wrong?’ you ask. ‘Is there a game on you don’t want to miss?’

Yoongi doesn’t even crack a smile.

‘Do you love me?’

You blink at his question. ‘What?’

Yoongi waits.

‘I don’t hate you,’ you say, trying to inject some levity into the situation because his seriousness is scaring you.

Yoongi drops his head, groans into your neck.

‘I love you,’ you assure him. You roll your hips under his. ‘I don’t put out for just any chaebol asshole.’

Yoongi lifts his head, searches your face. ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he says.

‘That’s true,’ you say airily as he kisses his way down your neck.

His mouth skims over the skin of your sternum, lips soft, reverent.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me if I love you?’ he asks, lips poised over the round of your breast.

His question pulls you out of your pleasured haze.

Again, the image of Yoongi and Park Gyuri flashes into your head.

The truth is, you’re too scared to ask. You know, in your heart, that you would love Yoongi no matter what, and you’re not ready to face that truth right now.

So you smile at your husband and say, ‘Just show me.’

He does.

***

You’re passing by Yoongi’s study when you notice the door is ajar.

Yoongi raises a brow at you. ‘Come in, I have something for you.’

You frown at him suspiciously. ‘Is it your dick?’

Yoongi says, ‘Always, but I have something else too.’

You take a seat next to him on the sofa you always sit together on when you visit him.

Yoongi reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket, hands you a jewelry box.

You meet his gaze apprehensively.

‘Is it a matching necklace?’

Yoongi just shakes his head. ‘Open it.’

You lift the lid on the box, and stop.

It’s another bracelet, except this one is exquisitely carved jade, delicate and so perfect you’re afraid to touch it.

Yoongi says, quietly, ‘I got this and the other bracelet at the same time. I chose the other one to give to you, but this one’s always reminded me more of you.’

You blink up at him. ‘Yoongi, it’s perfect.’

‘I know you like jade,’ Yoongi says. He picks up the bracelet, and you hold out your wrist as he clasps the bracelet around it.

‘It reminds me of my mother,’ you say.

Yoongi’s hands are gentle on your wrist.

You catch sight of a sheet of note card under the silken lining of the box.

It’s a list, in your husband’s handwriting.

‘What’s this?’ you ask, skimming through it, curious.

‘Didn’t you make one like this, a couple years ago?’ Yoongi asks. He’s not looking at you now. ‘It’s all the things I have to make up to you.’

Your heart stops.

Thoughts race through your head, you can barely see the words on the card even though his handwriting is neat, beautiful.

You’ve never asked him the question in your heart, and your husband’s answered it anyway.

He knows you better than you ever thought he did.

You press your lips together, trying to hold back the tears.

‘I didn’t write them down,’ you say, finally. ‘I just worked off the top of my head.’

‘Yeah?’ Yoongi asks. He’s leaning close now, so close that if you turned your face your lips would meet.

‘Yeah.’

Yoongi says, ‘I’m not sure what order to do them in. Can you help?’

You turn into his kiss, and it’s as lovely as it ever was.

God, you love him.

‘Yeah, I can help you with that,’ you tell him.

You can feel the curve of his lips against yours, the rumble of amusement in his chest.

‘Great. We should get started,’ he murmurs against your skin. ‘I need to win your heart, because I really don’t think any of this is worth it, without you.’

‘Goddamn it, Yoongi, looks like you’re a romantic after all,’ you tease.

Yoongi reaches out, thumbs the tears off your cheeks.

‘Looks like you’ve made me into one,’ he agrees.

©hamsterclaw 2023

#bts smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #vows au

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amimuu · 1 month

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Vows.

[‼️TRIGGER WARNING: Implied decapitation, blood. Discretion is advised ‼️]

It’s done! Yay! 3 days of work later, but super worth it!

Now- what is going on?? Well. Like the previous post, this comic takes place in a timeline in which the Lamb decides to willingly return the crown, resulting in their demise, yet find themselves brought back to life shortly after by the god of death himself. Why did he do it? What is he planning? What could he possibly need the lamb for? Why won’t he let them rest?

Hopefully all these questions will be answered in further updates (definitely simpler than this comic) but I’ll gladly take asks if anyone’s curious =v=

Sadly I still don’t have a name for the au—but hopefully I’ll settle for something soon! In the meantime I’ll just tag it as “vows to ash au” or smt like that. Until then!

Christ.

#cult of the lamb #cotl fanart #cotl comic #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #does this count as narilamb #Idk I don’t think so #but there IS gonna be narilamb in the au so…#narilamb #??? perhaps #boy this formatting was hell #not like that’s gonna stop me from doing it again at some point but uhm #vows to ash au #there now it’s stored in a tag

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coline7373 · 4 months

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"For Life and Light."

Pffffiuuuuu... I didn't thought I would finish it in time but I did! *fist pump*

Just in time to thank the @codywanfirstkissbingo 's mods for such lovely prompts and to wish everyone a very merry Christmas and/or Winter's Holidays!!!!!!!!!

Big love sent to everyone!!!

💖❄🎄💖🌞💖🎄❄💖

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skizabaa · 8 months

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Magma doodles, Eclipse!

#skizabaa scribbles #I keep forgetting to post these but i like how the coloring came out in these two #eclipse fnaf #fnaf eclipse #fnaf sb #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf security breach #ruin eclipse #Oathbreakers Vow Au #magma doodles

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voicesofwisdom · 27 days

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Some messy doodles lol

#voice of wisdom #zelda au #legend of zelda #vow tetra #voice of wisdom tetra #sorry I haven’t been to active #I’ve been drawing for other things #and also got into genshin X’D

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ghouljams · 10 months

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Part 2 of Love stabbing Ghost! Soap to the rescue.

You're at a house, it's right in the middle of a place it probably shouldn't be. Arched door and gabled roof sandwiched between two very modern and tall looking buildings. Simon knocks on it twice and waits. There's a very loud noise from inside and then a lot more loud noise before the door is yanked open. There's a man, just about Simon's height, with a Mohawk and a smile leaning against the doorframe. He looks happy to see your boyfriend.

"Ghost," he glances down at the unattended stab wound in Simon's stomach, "I see you're doing well."

"You're hilarious," Simon says, pushing past him and into the home. You don't move. Something is... stopping you. The other man smiles at you, waiting. Simon turns to look for you over his shoulder and stops. "Soap," Simon warns, but it's something else too, questioning.

Soap cocks his head at you, you've never seen a man that looks like him before. Too human. Like everything human about him has been cranked up to 11. He's not blocking you from entering the house, but he hasn't invited you in either. It would be rude to-

"She can't cross the threshold," Soap grins, his smile so wide you think you could count all his teeth. You vibrate just on the edge of something, you can feel it like a second door preventing you from crossing into his home. He nods his head at you finally, "Alright, come in. Can't have you attracting attention."

The door opens and you slide past him. Simon grabs you quickly, tipping your head this way and that to study you. He looks so concerned that you don't put up a fight. Soap ignores both of you, walking past to rummage around in his kitchen. You look around as Simon looks at you. It's a cute place, comfortable, you'd almost call it cozy.

"How many tethers you got in her?" Soap calls, setting a white medical kit on the coffee table.

"Enough," Simon tells him, finally releasing your face. You wish he'd at least kiss you if he was going to hold onto you for so long. You must pout because he leans down to do just that, soft and sweet as he presses his lips to yours.

"Yer aff yer heid," Soap pats the couch and Simon releases you again. He strips his shirt off and sits where Soap directed with a grunt. Soap pokes at the skin around the wound and you lean over the back of the couch to want. “How’d you do this, lass?”

“Knife.” You tell him plainly. Soap snorts, Simon sighs, shooting you a warning look. “He asked me to, said ‘I want you to stab me’. So I stabbed him.” Soap gives Simon a look of concern.

“Mate your kinks are really gettin’ out of hand.”

“Didn’t think she’d do it.” Simon replies gruffly, you see him wince when Soap presses too hard too close to the edge of the wound, “Was trying to teach her about us.”

“You barely know about us.” Soap hums, grabbing a needle and thread from the med kit. You settle a hand on Simon’s shoulder as Soap starts stitching him up, squeezing to try and take some of his attention from the pain. You’re starting to get phantom pains just watching him, you can’t imagine how Simon’s so stoic about it.

“What’s your name lass?” Soap asks, and you frown.

“How’s that any of your business?” You reply, trying to memorize the way he twists sutures and snips the thread. Next time you stab Simon you should at least know how to stitch him up. Simon gives a small purr, aborted immediately when Soap pulls the last stitch tight.

“Christ you are a fucking mess, you know that?” Soap’s not talking to you, he’s talking to Simon. Looking him over, plucking at invisible threads with a frown. “How’d you-” He pulls on something and you smack his hand without thinking. Soap looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. He stands from the couch and stares the two of you down. “Simon Riley,” He says with purpose.

Simon doesn’t move, just raises a brow. Soap makes a ‘come on’ gesture and groans.

“You are fuckin’ jokin’.” He presses his hands to his face before dropping them and pointing at Simon. You’re starting to like this guy. Or maybe that’s Simon’s pleased hum through the tethers. “You-” He groans again, “I can’t believe you. Best mates for years and you don’t even- Price is going to kill you.”

“What’s happening?” You whisper ask Simon. Soap turns his annoyance on you.

“What’s happening, is you own this bastard and he didn’t even send out a wedding invite.”

“I didn’t think she’d give me her name,” Simon starts. Soap holds up a hand to cut him off.

“You are on probation, I’m not listening to you anymore, don’t talk to me.” You bite down a smile, you definitely like this guy.

#Fae!Ghost #Fae!Soap #oc: Love #Fae au #In which Love has gotten so many tethers and magic in her that she has to obey fae rules #and Soap calls Ghost out on taking her last name without telling anyone #do we all remember that nice little fluff piece I wrote where Love gives him her last name?#they may not have said any vows but Magic doesn't care that's marriage baby #Soap's pissed but he'll set up a proper wedding party for them out of spite #x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #Love smacking Soap's hand away from her marriage tether that's mine don't touch it #did she mean to get married? no. Is she thrilled to own Ghost's ass? ABSOLUTELY

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betweenblackberrybranches · 7 months

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Day 7 of Medival Artober "Blacksmith"

When Y/N goes into the the next bigger village to get some things fixed or ask for something specific to be made for them Sun gets to see a lot of stuff, many things have changed since he was last able to freely roam outside and yet some things have stayed the same. And sometimes Sun dreams of a future as mundane and wonderfull as all these people get to live, as unobtainable as it seemed in the past... maybe, just maybe

#fnaf sun #sundrop #dca #fnaf dca #daycare attendant #daycare attendant x y/n #dcamv #my art #automaton au #look guys let me be sappy #i have a whole sappy standart wedding vow for this world written out that they and y/n could repeat to eachother #its really cute #go on ask me about it #anyways sun is very much dreaming of just staying with y/n for the rest of all time #guy is down bad #not like moon is any better or y/n for that matter #btw i know this is like super messily drawn but im exhausted

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bunningchaos · 4 days

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Last (third) set of characters for now

Also part of the whole, Knight's Vow AU idea

Horror belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios (Otherwise known as horrortalecomic), on Tumblr!

Cross (Xtale/Underverse) belongs to Jael Peñazola on YouTube, otherwise known as jakei95 on Tumblr

Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale, on Tumblr!

Nightmare belongs to jokublog, on Tumblr!

Killer belongs to RahafWabas, on Tumblr!

Small info thingy below

The Eclipse (Or 'The Runaways')

A rowdy and unpredictable bunch- misfits gathered together, but not malicious by any means if left unprovoked. Although it's publicly known that one of them is deemed 'Wanted'. Capturing him have been proven countless times to be impossible.

Heed caution when approaching.

#bunningart #undertale au #undertale #utmv #utmv au #bunningreference #sans au #horror sans #cross sans #dust sans #nightmare sans #killer sans #Knight's Vow #Knights Vow #KVAU #Knights Vow AU #Knight's Vow AU

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koinotame · 4 months

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i do (only exist for you)

word count: 1.8K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, objectification (not at reader), violence (relatively vague/not super explicit but not minor), emetophobia, they/them is used for reader

characters included: childe

a/n: this is a repost (heavily edited in some parts, lightly edited in others)! and a sequel to this. like the previous installment, you can read this as a standalone modern au thing, but it'll make more sense with the previous context. also on ao3! next part

the two of you aren’t actually married yet, but with the way your ajax treats you, you might as well be.

"I’ve placed your lunch in your bag along with the homework assignments you left out yesterday. remember to eat it this time, okay? and don’t forget the train leaves late today." you’re too sleepy to protest as he sticks your arms into a coat, one that you only realise is his once he’s done zipping it up.

"we’re going to the same class," you supply groggily, rubbing at your eye while he smoothes out your hair. "…didn’t you go to sleep after me? where do you get all this energy from?"

"yeah, but it feels more homely if I tell you all this before we leave the apartment." he says, smoothening out your hair again (you think he just likes having an excuse to touch you) and wrapping a scarf loosely around your neck.

you’re surprised he hasn’t started calling it our apartment at this point, but you’re not going to give him the idea lest he actually starts doing so.

he puts a surprising amount of effort into tucking the scarf into his coat properly, and you have to admit he’s very good at bundling you up. you feel super cozy. "being able to care for you is all the motivation I need to wake up early to make you breakfast."

you hum, pressing your head into his shoulder, close to drifting off again, until his words set in and you recoil. "wait wait, how early exactly? please tell me you got more than three hours of sleep."

he laughs heartily, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. "aww, are you worried about me?" you weakly swat at his arm and he laughs again. "don’t worry, don’t worry, not that early. I woke up at seven."

you sigh and he pulls you in for a kiss. when he pulls away, his eyes are full of adoration. "I love you."

"the bed was empty when I woke up at six briefly."

he chuckles again, but it has a nervous tinge this time. "aha, busted…"

you sigh once more, zipping up his coat for him. he beams down at you as you do, fondness dancing in the way his eyes creak whenever he’s in your presence. "come on, we’re going to be late."

"right," he says, picking up both of your bags and holding on to your hand and then somehow still locking the door behind you singlehandedly.

the two of you burst out laughing when you realise he forgot to take off his apron when you arrive and take off your coats.

"all the more to prove to everyone else I’m your soon-to-be husband." he winks at you, ruffling your hair when you tell him there’s still a couple years left before either of you graduate.

"ajax."

he sighs contently, nuzzling into you. "I love it when you say my name."

"ajax," you say his name slightly louder, "let me out."

the arms around you tighten. "no."

you groan, throwing your head back. "ajax, I need to load the washing machine."

he whines against the crook of your neck. "no, you don’t."

"ajax…"

"I can do it later, okay? don’t leave my arms."

"your arms are not the only thing trapping me here," you say, but his legs just tighten around you and you find yourself even more pressed against his chest. "and someone needs to do it."

he whines again. "I don’t like it when you leave my arms."

you poke his side, unimpressed. "we can hold hands while I do it then."

he tuts, pressing his face deeper into your hair. the next time he speaks, it’s directly above your ear. he sounds more serious than he usually does. "but you shouldn’t have to do any work. I wish you just sat back and let me do it all."

you sigh. this sort of conversation has been happening more and more frequently lately, especially since you accepted his proposal. "come on, not this again… a healthy relationship is about giving and taking in eq—"

"but I want to do all the giving and I want you to do all the taking." you close your mouth and stop talking when he presses you further into him. "I meant it, you know? I want to take care of you."

frustration seeps through his words when he speaks, more than you’ve ever heard from him before. "aren’t people supposed to like it when they’re spoiled? you’re the most special person in my life, and I want to do everything for you. you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, and I hate that this world is so against that. if this were…"

he cuts himself off and quiets for a few seconds. with your face still pressed against his chest, the only thing you can hear is your quiet breathing and his heartbeat.

"I hate that you won’t let me treat you like you should be treated."

"ajax…" your hand moves up from where it was resting on his back to comb through his hair gently.

he whimpers and squishes his face against the side of your head. "I really love it when you say my name."

both of you remain quiet for a bit. you’re tempted to forget about the laundry, close your eyes and drift off, when ajax speaks up again. "I’m yours. you shouldn’t hesitate to make use of me."

even in the heat of the moment, that sort of line sounds a lot more romantic in fiction.

he coos into your ear when you scratch his head lightly. "ajax, you don’t just exist to be used by others. there’s more to you than just that."

"I do," he insists, but quiets down and doesn’t argue further.

"I do only exist for you," he says again, a while later when you’ve pretty much fallen asleep in his arms.

even after two years of living together, you still refuse to use him as you should or let him treat you like you deserve to be treated. it makes him feel all sorts of bitter; he doesn’t want to (and doesn’t deserve to) force you into anything, but whenever you push him away, it stings.

whenever you put distance between the two of you and insist on straining yourself, he feels like he’s failed you. it just further drives home that he’s really so worthless that you can’t rely on him, and he knows this isn’t a problem getting stronger for you will fix.

it’s been a long, long time since he felt this useless. he loathes the feeling.

ajax stretches, not missing the opportunity to flex his body. "that was fun! I don’t mind if you cling onto me a bit more next time, though… you’re so cute when you get startled by the jumpscares."

"mhm, sure." you pay his obvious attempt at showing off no mind and instead let out a yawn. "want to get something to eat? I’m hungry."

"are you sure you don’t want to head home?" you nod, reaching for his hand. he intertwines his fingers with yours eagerly. "do you have any place in mind? my treat."

"it’s always your treat." you roll your eyes, but lead him towards the restaurant you’d been thinking of regardless.

"of course," he laughs. "what sort of fiancé would I be if I didn’t pay for your food?"

"what sort of fiancé does that make me, then?"

he laughs and you remember why you fell in love with him again.

"don’t be silly. it’s your job to get spoiled rotten by me." he tugs on your arm, pulling you closer to him, and presses his lips to your cheek.

"if you spoil me too much I’ll go bad for real, you know."

despite the joking undertone, he looks displeased and he tugs on your cheek, pouting. "of course not. and even if you did, I’ll still love you."

you huff, unable to stop yourself from laughing, and elbow him. "you’re so—"

you cut yourself off when you notice the hooded person standing imposingly in front of both of you. immediately, you feel ajax stiffen and step slightly in front of you, but he doesn’t seem particularly threatened so much as just wary and protective.

once he realises he’s been noticed, the man in front of the both of you tilts his head. "hand over all your money, and I won’t have to get violent."

"hah," ajax barks, sardonic and entirely foreign to your ears. "I don’t think so."

the next few moments go by in a flash.

grunting, the attempted mugger pulls out a knife and dives forward. you barely register how you’ve stepped back out of instinct before he’s completely soaked and there’s a large gash across his torso.

nobody moves for a couple seconds, until the guy’s eyes trail down hesitantly and he goes white. his arms immediately come to cradle his stomach. "what the fuck—"

it takes you another second to realise what’s happened. bile rises up your throat.

there’s a part of you that’s relieved it’s winter, that the sun has already set and there’s not too many people around, that you’re not about to get robbed at knifepoint.

"I’ll kill you if you touch them." your fiancé’s tone is much darker than you’ve ever heard when he speaks. you’ve always known he wasn’t the type to shy away from conflict, but the way he says it just after cutting open someone else makes the hair on your arms raise.

"you fucking bitch—" the other guy doesn’t get a chance to get anything else out before ajax kicks him. you feel your stomach tense at the squelching sound he makes when ajax’s foot comes into contact with his torso.

you feel worse when he grabs the man’s hair and wrist, a pained shout and loud crunch accompanying the drop of the knife.

the hairs at the base of your head rise at his tone. "I told you, don’t touch them." you block out the rest of what he says, but from the way the mugger’s face pales even further it can’t have been anything good.

you swallow down the urge to vomit and tug on ajax’s sleeve. for a moment, you’re worried he’s going to turn violent on you, but it barely takes him a second to turn to you, and when he does his face is relaxed and smiling like he usually does.

whatever your expression looks like, he softens as soon as he sees it. his hands are off the mugger soon and then he’s all but pulling you into his chest. you think you hear the guy run off, but it’s hard to focus on anything but the way ajax soothingly rubs your back and murmurs apologies into the crown of your head.

if he feels how much you’re shaking, he doesn’t comment on it. or rather, he just apologises more.

you have a feeling he’s apologising more for the fact that you saw him like that and that he scared you than what he actually did.

and above all, you hate the part of you that feels exhilarated about him loving you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #self aware au #self aware genshin #childe #tartaglia #repost #i changed the name a lil so it's kind of a pun now. get it #like a wedding vow 'i do' sort of thing... ok i'll see myself out

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bonefall · 14 days

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how would forest four clerics react to a skyclan cleric with kittens, given the cultural differences? would a skyclan cleric risk ostracization by choosing to have kits?

BADLY. The Forest Four would be very likely to cause some kind of drama over it. It would be a very shocking moment for them, "What do you MEAN you follow a different Warrior Code? There's only THE Warrior Code!"

There would be a fight over if SkyClan will keep its version of the Warrior Code, or if it would be forced to "update." Most likely is that they're would be allowed to keep their self-governing laws, but forced to update the ones about violence and borders.

So even with Clerics being allowed to have kits under SkyClan's law, they would be picked on by more Traditionalist Clerics. They find themselves getting talked over a lot, their input on healing and prophecies ignored. Less trade and sharing of herbs.

That said, SkyClan is kinda used to being self-sufficient. They wouldn't blame their Cleric,but the Forest Four broadly. Another reason to remain polite but wary of their neighbors.

#better bones au #BB!SkyClan #Cleric's Vow

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ethereal-night-fairy · 11 days

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Broken Vows and Promises

Eventual Ghoap x Female Reader

Excitedly awaiting on the arrival of your boyfriend, you get yourself ready in the hopes of receiving a wedding proposal. But you didn't even make it out the door before your world comes crashing down. (This will be a dark fic read tags)

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

(pictures are for aesthetic purposes only)

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hamsterclaw · 7 months

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First strike

You meet a stranger at a wedding and discover that there's more of a connection between you than you thought. A Vows story, read the rest here.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 1.5k

You’re at the wedding of a distant cousin, you don’t know why your father insists you come to these ‘events’, like anyone would notice if you weren’t there.

You’re with another cousin who’s just gone to get drinks for you, waiting by the edge of the bar, trying not to look too out of place.

A waiter walks past, too close. You register the tug on the strap of your silky gown, watch with mild horror as the strap falls off your shoulder and down your arm.

You’re lifting your hand to press your gown against your chest, stop it from falling down and exposing you, when there’s a weight over your shoulders.

Warmth, a heady rush of vetiver.

The man who’s put his jacket over your shoulders pulls the lapels close, covering you from neck to hips.

He isn’t touching you at all, just holding on to his jacket.

You look up into intense dark eyes and the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen on a man.

He’s still holding the lapels loosely.

You lift the strap over your shoulder quickly and check you’re covered.

‘Thank you,’ you say, grateful.

He nods.

You shrug your shoulders out of his beautifully cut suit jacket and hand it back to him.

He puts it back on. He’s still so close to you it seems oddly intimate, like you’ve both been getting dressed together.

You’re helping him straighten his collar, when you realise he might not want you to.

‘Sorry,’ you say.

He laughs a little. ‘It’s fine. Do I look ok?’

‘You look beautiful,’ you say, without thinking.

Then you realise what you’ve just said.

‘Sorry.’ You fumble for your composure. ‘I’m Y/N,’ you offer. ‘How do you know Jia and Haru?’

‘Haru and I used to work together,’ he replies. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

Just then, your cousin, Mina, returns with the drinks.

‘Here you go, Y/N,’ she says. She looks politely at the man.

He’s never said his name, you can’t call him an acquaintance yet.

He inclines his head. ‘Min Yoongi.’

‘Han Mina,’ Mina says. ‘How do you know Y/N?’

‘I don’t yet,’ he replies, but leaves the explaining to you.

‘He just did me a big favour,’ you say.

Mina’s curious, but she lets it slide.

‘We should go and congratulate the happy couple,’ she says to you.

You nod.

Yoongi bows his head slightly as you and Mina pass him.

You turn back once.

He’s still looking at you.

You smile, tentative.

A corner of his mouth curls up.

And then you’re greeting Jia and Haru, but you’re still thinking about Min Yoongi and how his eyes seem to see all the way through you.

***

The dinner is long, multiple courses and you were full after the first five. You excuse yourself and head out into the courtyard for a turn in the night air.

Out here, there’s a fountain, the rush of water keeping you company.

You start when you realise there’s a man sitting on the opposite rim of the fountain.

He’s dressed in black, unlike the silver gleam of your dress. He turns, and you recognise the man you met earlier.

You’ve been caught staring at him, so you smile, nod in greeting and turn back to facing away.

Moments later he’s walked around the fountain and sat next to you.

‘Hey,’ he says.

His voice appeals to you, the rasp to it, the low timbre.

‘Hey,’ you say. ‘You’re missing the food.’

‘I’ll probably go back for the tenth course,’ he replies, straight-faced.

You giggle, and he smiles.

‘Maybe the cake?’ you suggest.

‘Maybe the cake,’ he agrees.

He lifts his drink to his lips, amber liquid swirling in his glass.

He tips it to you. ‘Want some?’

Your fingers touch as he hands you the glass.

You take a cautious sip. It goes down smooth, a mellow heat down your throat.

‘Do you have a date?’ he asks.

‘Apart from Mina, no,’ you reply. ‘Do you?’

‘I do,’ he says.

You hadn’t expected him to say that. ‘Where are they?’

‘She’s probably looking for me,’ Yoongi tells you.

‘You’d better go back before they send out a search party,’ you tell him, serious.

‘They’re more likely to send one out for you,’ Yoongi replies. He smiles crookedly at you. ‘Let me escort you back inside.’

As soon as you get back to the foyer Yoongi’s approached by a beautiful woman who looks vaguely familiar.

‘There you are,’ she says. She glances your way curiously, then extends a delicate hand.

‘Park Gyuri,’ she says, and in a flash you realise why she looks familiar.

She’s an actress who retired from acting and earned an MBA before working for the largest conglomerate this side of Asia, Min Holdings.

Which means that the man you’ve just met is one of the Min family.

Min Yoongi is chaebol royalty.

Somehow you’re not surprised.

You recover in time to shake her hand and introduce yourself in turn.

You look up at Yoongi just in time to see the way his expression’s changed at the mention of your full name.

You can’t think why. You’re chaebol too, but your family’s shipping business is small fry compared to Min Holdings.

You smile at Yoongi and Gyuri. ‘It was very nice to meet you both,’ you say, stepping to one side to let them pass.

You watch them go, and it’s only because you’re still looking that you see Yoongi turn back to you.

Your eyes meet, and for a moment you think he’s going to come back to talk to you again.

Then he turns, and you’re more disappointed than you can say.

***

The group of groomsmen are downing shots at the bar, and you’re trying to get past when a tall dude, you think his name is Minjun, says your name.

‘How are you? Come and have a drink,’ he says, touching your shoulder.

You’re smiling, trying to decline the shot he’s holding out to you, when Min Yoongi walks by.

‘Can I speak to you, Y/N?’

You let Yoongi lead you out of the ballroom.

‘Thanks for rescuing me,’ you say, smiling. ‘Minjun and those dudes go hard.’

Yoongi gives you a half-smile. ‘You strike me as someone who can look after herself.’

You can’t disagree.

‘I’m leaving soon,’ he tells you, ‘but I wanted to speak to you before I left.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask, oddly flattered.

‘Have you heard about my family?’ Yoongi asks.

‘I think everyone’s heard of the Mins,’ you demur, wondering where he’s going with this.

Yoongi’s looking intently at you. ‘Has your father mentioned anything to you, about us?’

Now you’re confused.

Yoongi seems to be in the midst of an internal debate.

Finally he seems to come to a decision.

‘There’ve been discussions between our families,’ he says.

Realisation’s dawning, and you’re not sure you like where this is going.

You laugh because it’s ludicrous.

‘What? Next you’ll be saying we’re going to be married.’

It takes you a moment to realise you’re the only one laughing.

Yoongi’s still looking at you, expression unreadable.

‘Is this a joke?’

‘I wish it was,’ Yoongi sighs.

Something about his resignation stings.

You think about his beautiful date, and you realise you’re not the only one who’d be affected by this.

‘We don’t have to agree to it,’ you say, touching his arm.

Yoongi looks at your hand.

‘You should speak to your father,’ he says, quietly.

‘You haven’t agreed to it, have you?’ you ask.

‘I don’t think the terms are unreasonable,’ Yoongi replies.

His lack of emotion makes you feel even more wound up.

‘It’s not a business contract,’ you snap.

Yoongi scoffs, runs his hand through his hair.

‘That’s exactly what it is.’

‘We don’t know each other.’

‘We have time to get to know each other,’ Yoongi points out.

‘You have a girlfriend,’ you protest.

‘Gyuri and I used to date,’ he concedes.

The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them.

‘Did she dump you because you’re a cold hearted robot?’

Yoongi blinks at you.

‘If I were a cold hearted robot I could have not told you anything.’

‘Honest cold hearted robot,’ you amend.

Yoongi scoffs.

‘Is this what you’re going to be like?’

You’re stung, again. ‘Yeah. Better get used to it.’

‘Shit, we’re going to need a big house,’ Yoongi snarks. ‘So we don’t have to see each other.’

‘Yeah, sounds like a perfect marriage,’ you say, bitterly.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. ‘Can we start over?’

‘Nope,’ you snap.

You turn on your heel and start walking away.

When you turn back, he’s still looking at you.

‘You were right about one thing, Yoongi.’

His expression tightens, but he doesn’t say anything.

‘I can look after myself.’

You whirl and nearly crash into Minjun as he leaves the ballroom.

So much for your dramatic exit.

Yoongi’s snicker echoes in your ears long after you’ve left him.

Author note: The next part to this series is the final part, and I’m all in my feelings about these two. I love them to bits. I’m going to miss them!

#vows au #yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic

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