An Unknown Library, Full Of Cherished Stories .

ᝰ an unknown library, full of cherished stories ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹ liveyun reads of 2023 so far !! bangtan.

man 😮💨 i really should've made this earlier to avoid the pile-up. there are so MANY golden fics from many underrated authors here which deserve so much more. i’ve been reading for over three years and sadly, the fics compiled here would be the ones which i managed to find in the brink of time ㅠㅠ

there unfortunately have been MANY blogs who've either deactivated, or are inactive since a long time. it personally saddens me a lot, whether they're still into bangtan, whether they're still writing, whether they're all okay.. and more, but above all, i really hope that they're doing well. this is optional, obviously, but leaving a feedback to content really boosts up spirits a lot <3 whether it's an inactive blog or an active one, if it's possible, try communicating or atleast reblogging. it helps a lot :)

most of these fics are rated M, and abiding by the author's wishes, you have to be 18+ in order to read them. however, i’m not responsible for the content you consume online, hence, reader's discretion is adviced.

-

[ ★ ] : favorites

[ f ] : fluff

[ a ] : angst

[ s ] : smut

[ ♪ ] : series

-

joon and seokjin ver (:

—ꗃ kim namjoon

⊹ bloom by @hobidreams ( a, f, s , 20.7k ) ★★★

⊹ cien anos by @icedmatchatae ( a , 15.1k ) ★★★

⊹ how to not train your dragon by @almostkoo ( f, 2.1k )

⊹ brightside by @lavienjin ( a, f, 8k+ )

⊹ you set my heart on fire by @hayjeon ( a, f , s , 21k ) ★

⊹ out of the woods by @angelicyoongie ( a, f, s , 26.7k) ★

⊹ forever rain by @ddaenggtan ( a, f, s , 18.8k )

⊹ moonstruck by @jeonbunnie ( f, s , a , 4.1k)

⊹ the bodyguard by @rmnamjoons ( f, s, a, 62.9k )

⊹ mr and mrs kim by @jjkeverlast ( s , action, 4.6k )

—ꗃ kim seokjin

⊹ 9 months to fall in love by @floralseokjin ( f, s, a, 100k+) ★♪

⊹ the light of the dead stars by @ahundredtimesover ( f, s , a, 150k ) ★♪

⊹ take you down by @lookingforluna ( f, s , 3.5k )

⊹ sunday by @here2bbtstrash ( s , 5k )

⊹ counterfeit culture by @ggukcangetit ( comedy, f, s , 29k )

⊹ to kill a king by @foxymoxynoona ( a, f , s, 70k + ) ♪

⊹ met him last night by @dollfaceksj ( s , 10k)

some yoongi fic recs because somehow a collection has come about so...

I read a lot of fics and these are just a few that I really really love!! biggest support and love to the writers :)

1. the story of us by @eleventoes

exestolovers!au, fluff, angst, 7.1k words

2. cyber sex by @borathae

established relationship, smut, 6k words

3. fireside by @sailoryooons

established relationship, fluff, smut, 2.3k words

4. making it official by @beautifulfuckup99

fwbtolovers!au, smut

5. "he is at peace when he is with you" by @borathae

established relationship, vampire!yoongi, smut, fluff, 16.9k words

6. sweet spot by @cultleaderyoongi

established relationship, smut, fluff, 7.5k words

7. i woof you by @gimmesumsuga

neighbourstolovers!au, smut, fluff, 26k words

8. solace by @satnin-darling

fwbtolovers!au, smut, fluff, 13k words

9. illicit affairs by @oftenderweapons

established relationship, fluff, smut, 13.2k words

10. close your eyes, I'm your paradise by @wtf-yoongi

fluff, 942 words

11. gold by @beahae

established relationship, fluff, smut, 3.9k words

swing life away | min yoongi

pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader

synopsis: it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

rating: 18+

word count: 5.2k

tags/content warning: married au, pregnancy, slight angst, miscommunication, mentions of infidelity (no one's cheating), mentions of food and being vegan (no one's vegan), usage of babe/baby as endearment, semi-public sex, SMUT in the forms of oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this unless you want kids or std), slight spanking, yoongi being a carpenter/loving husband/dumpling/etc.

this fic is inspired by the song "swing life away" by rise against and yoongi's woodcarving vlog :] enjoy!

Min Yoongi was many things.

He’s a skilled carpenter with his own woodshop business by day, and a rising songwriter/record producer by night. He’s a confident all-star basketball player back in his high school days and can still shoot perfectly whenever he plays with some of your shared friends in the backyard these days. He’s a great cook too, always indulging your cravings.

Min Yoongi was many things but most importantly, he’s your husband.

And a very observant one.

It’s been more than a month when he first noticed it. He wasn’t exactly sure what was “it,” but he knew it wasn’t good. He could tell there was something bothering in your mind one night you went home from work and claimed it’s nothing instead of ranting to him like the usual. Just a bad day at work.

A week after that was when you started to stay long hours at work, looking more pale and exhausted when you get home. It baffled Yoongi why you would spend more hours there if it’s stressing you and you’ve never actually worked overtime, but he knew he’s not one to talk about spending more time at work when he has two jobs and does one of those said jobs at home, so he shut his mouth. He didn’t say anything.

Not when you changed your perfume from an intoxicating fruity scent to a soft floral one. Not when he saw a receipt of you having your car interior cleaned and also changed the smell of it. Not when you didn’t want to have sex anymore, always pushing his hands away when they start to wander down there.

A lot of new small things bothered him, especially the last one but what made him almost lose it was when you had mistaken his dish, the one you claimed to be your favorite, for a different one.

x◇x◇x

“Do you like it?”

You nodded, despite still blowing the steam off of your spoon. When you finally tasted it though, he could tell on the look on your face that there’s something missing on his dish. “What is it? Did I not put enough fish sauce or tomato sauce?”

“You put fish sauce in this?” You asked, smiling adorably at your husband and reached across the table to hold his hand in assurance. “It tastes fine, babe, but there’s no need for fish sauce in this. You could’ve added more liver spread and cheese though. You know I love a lot of cheese in this.”

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment to breathe. He understood the cheese part, you always add cheese to a lot of dishes that doesn’t even need cheese. “Y/N, I didn’t put liver spread because that dish doesn’t require liver spread. It needed fish sauce.”

“What are you talking about? Caldereta is all about the tender beef, tomato sauce, liver spread, and cheese!”

“That's afritada, Y/N. You’re favorite dish back home is afritada.”

Yoongi blinked and composed himself, trying not to look so wounded. He’s so damn sure you’re favorite was afritada, you’ve talked about it a lot. Hell, he’d already cooked it a couple of times before. He had the recipe that he searched online bookmarked on his browser, and he even went to the lengths of jotting them down on his journal just in case the link is taken down.

“Afritada… you mean this is chicken?” You scooped for some meat parts from the reddish soup dish, and there it was, your recent enemy: chicken. “I can’t eat chicken right now, Yoongi, I'm sorry.” You sat straight up, covering your mouth and nose with your hand.

“Of course, it’s chicken. It’s always been chicken, Y/N. It’s a chicken dish, that’s why you love it so much. Or loved, apparently, judging by your actions tonight.”

“I'm sorry,” your voice came out muffled as your hand was still covering your mouth.

“When did you start hating chicken?” he asked as he stood up to take your plate away and check the pantry to prepare something else for you.

“Um, my coworker, Seokhoon, he’s practicing to be a vegan lately so we thought we’d support him by also not eating meat…”

Yoongi’s ears perked up, hearing how your answer sounded uncertain and more like a question, so he pressed more, looking over his shoulder at you. “You were more than ready and excited to eat beef and cheese earlier but you wouldn’t eat chicken right now?”

You stared dumbfoundingly at him before shrugging. “I’m trying with small things like egg and chicken.”

“I made you an omelet for breakfast earlier.” He pointed out, holding your gaze.

“I… just started… to try being vegan earlier at lunch. And also meat are becoming pricey these days, our salary might not be enough. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to cut back on our expenses. What would you rather give up—chicken or beef?”

Of course, Yoongi would rather eat tofu and bean sprouts for the rest of his life if it meant you get to eat properly and satisfy your cravings. But he didn’t bother to reply that as he cooked you a different dish that night. Fuck Seokhoon for influencing you to be vegan. Fuck the government for the rising prices and not handling the economy better.

x◇x◇x

Ever since that dinner night, Yoongi began to question your marriage. He wanted to talk to you because he didn’t know what to make of your actions anymore, but everytime you two were in the room together, he could you tell you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get out of the situation. Besides, he’s afraid to ask because he knows he’s not prepared for any possible answers you'll give him.

You cheated? Yoongi knew it’s impossible. It had to be because he wouldn’t know what to do with that with that revelation. That would honestly break him.

You lost your job and was just actually driving around town to look for a new one and pass the time? It sounded stupid but not impossible. He would be disappointed and wish that you had told him sooner to prepare and possibly take on a third job.

You’re pregnant? He supposed this is a realistic scenario. You two had talked about this sincerely before getting married, of course, both wanting two kids. He just feels like it’s still early for babies and you two haven’t done all your goals as a married couple before becoming parents.

So he told himself to wait, that you would open up to him when you’re finally ready to unburden your problems. He’s a patient man after all.

But his patience seemed to be running thin today on the morning of your anniversary when he rolled over to your side as he woke up to cuddle you closer and hopefully start the day buried inside you.

He knew you’re awake, even with your eyes closed. You've been waking up earlier than him lately, one of your many changing habits. He took your hand that was hugging your stomach and pressed a soft kiss on your fingers, on your palm, on your wrist, trailing them across your arm up to your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name, wishing for you to open your eyes when he nipped at your jaw. He called your name once again as his lips were ghosting over yours. Your eyelashes fluttered open just enough to look at him and when he finally saw your eyes, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

You freed your hand from his to curl your fingers up into his long hair, urging him closer while the other slid up beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his body that you’ve been missing for weeks now. You pulled your knees up as Yoongi settled himself in between your legs, grinding his hard cock against your core.

But just as his own hand started to drift down on your hips, you slowed down, giving his lips one last kiss before pressing your forehead to his. You both stayed there without any movements at all, just gasping for air and holding each other’s skin and flesh tightly every now and then.

When it sounded like you were about to apologize, he pressed a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Happy anniversary, baby,” before bolting right out of the bed, before you could even say it back to him.

x◇x◇x

Despite your husband having his own woodshop and fulfilling his dreams in the music industry, you didn’t let go of your job when you and Yoongi got married.

You were on your way back to your desk from your third visit to the bathroom that morning when you saw the delivery man on the front door of the store carrying a gigantic bouquet of flowers he almost disappeared behind it.

“Min Y/N?” he asked, looking around the store.

Jia turned to the direction of the bathroom and pointed at you when she saw you. You stayed your feet at your place. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. The flowers looked beautiful—a bouquet of pale and dark red carnations, along with sunflowers, wrapped meticulously in craft paper and tied with a golden ribbon—but there’s a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making it hard for you to appreciate this.

“This is for you!” The delivery man presented the bouquet to you with a proud smile. When you didn’t move, he gingerly took your arms to place the flowers in them and then took off.

A minute must have passed by yet none of you and your colleagues moved or talked. It wasn’t until a client came in and needed assistance. Jia wrapped her arm around you and walked you back to your desk. As you sat down, you caught sight of the red card sticking out of the flowers. HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY, BABY.

Reading Yoongi's handwritten note, you recognized that bad feeling again that you knew all too well lately. Shame and guilt. You had to close your eyes and practice your breathing exercises before those bad feelings in your stomach turn into a pile of chunky vomit across the floor.

Jia, oblivious to your anxiety, swooned over the flowers. “Happy anniversary, Y/N!”

It’s the second greeting you’ve received today and you couldn’t help but wince when you remember how you froze when Yoongi greeted you.

You didn’t know how this special event slipped up your mind when staring at your calendar was all you’ve been doing lately. You were aware that your own anniversary was near and you even had a lot of ideas for DIY gifts to give to your husband.

You tried to make it up to Yoongi by going after him and showering together to have some hot shower sex even though the thought of sex was making you nervous lately. Yoongi turned down the offer though, saying you’re both gonna be late for work, which was a very pathetic excuse considering he’s his own boss and your own work doesn’t start in a couple of hours. So you showered together in silence.

Just as you’re about to calm down, you’re eyes widened in panic because not only you forgot your own anniversary day, of course you also forgot to actually make a gift despite tons of ideas in your journal and Pinterest board.

“Jia, I didn’t get him a gift!” It wasn’t even noon yet, and you’re already close to breaking down for the third time today.

“Well, the department store is just around the corner. I can come with you at lunch to buy something last minute.”

You shook your head and explained to her that buying some expensive stuff isn’t enough. Knowing your husband, he already made you a gift days ago. You’re not sure if it’s something from his woodshop or if he composed you a song, all you know is Yoongi probably made you a gift with love. No amount of money could compare to that.

“Well, there’s always sex?” At the sight of your face crumpling once again, Jia took back her suggestion. “Or not! Honestly, Y/N, this is why I’m all single and alone in life so I don’t have to give people gifts and you’re making me stress about your own anniversary gift.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“And really, you’re worrying about gifts when…” she paused to look down at your belly. “Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head.

“Well, there’s your anniversary gift, congratulations!”

“This is a stupid gift." Despite your harsh words, you wrapped arm protectively around your middle.

“Why? You said you want to give him something you made, well you made that. He even helped, too!”

You couldn’t possibly just announce you’re pregnant on your anniversary day? Right? Sure, it’s convenient and practical – two celebrations in one night!

But that’s not the actual thing that’s been bothering you. You’ve been hiding your condition to your husband for weeks now, when you should have told him that he’s a gonna be a dad the moment you saw the plus sign on a stick. But you didn’t because you’re scared and if you’re gonna be honest, also selfish. Selfish to have Yoongi the Husband™️ all to yourself just for a couple more days before he turns into Yoongi, your husband and the father of your unborn fetus. And then that selfishness turns into guilt for not telling him, for distancing yourself.

A part of you wished he’ll figure it out on his own, that’ll save you a speech.

x◇x◇x

Even before you started to spent late hours at work, Yoongi always comes home an hour or so before you. It usually gives him enough time to prepare for dinner.

However today, he asked his friend Seokjin to prepare a romantic dinner for you two as he would busy himself installing the porch swing he made as his anniversary gift for you.

With his long hair tied in a half bun, a few strands tucked behind his ears and locked into place with pins, and a safety googles on his face, Yoongi began by drilling two holes up into the ceiling joists where he would screw the hooks. When he’s done and swept away the dust, he took the chains that’s wrapped in rope for extra support and aesthetic purposes and attached them to swing before hoisting them up to the hooks.

Despite wanting his gift to be all handmade, Yoongi had no choice but to buy a small foam mattress and throw pillows to decorate the swing. He placed them all nicely and removed his googles before sitting down and testing the swing if it runs smoothly.

Swinging for a couple of minutes gave Yoongi enough time to relax from the stress of his jobs, from setting this swing up, from all his fears and worries.

It gave him enough peace from all the doubts and questions inside his head. He hoped that this would give you the same. He hoped that you seeing this swing – the one you dreamed for so long, the one that he promised you because how could he ever say no – will help you remember that the fact that you two get to celebrate this day was because of your love for each other and the trust you’ve built all these years even before marrying.

Yoongi had set up the swing in the right side of the house, facing a line of tall trees that secludes this house from the main road, and close enough to the backyard for some peace and privacy that if anyone walks or drives in to your lot, they wouldn’t see you right away as the beams would hinder their sight. But anyone who’s sitting here would see just fine if there’s someone coming in.

Just like Yoongi saw your car rolled in right away to park next to his pickup truck. He stood up and waved his arm to call your attention, excited to show you his gift. When you didn’t see him, he jogged up to the front and flashed a smile when you jumped up in surprise at the sight of him.

“What are you doing outside?”

“I have to show you something, come on!” He went to cover your eyes for surprise and guided you to the back.

You were expecting some surprise in the backyard, probably a dinner he cooked but your assumptions came into a halt as Yoongi stopped only after taking a few steps. When he removed his hands and told you to open your eyes, a cozy porch swing greeted your sight.

“That’s…” you trailed off, walking closer and wrapping your hand around the chain-rope. From the bulky design of the chain and rope to the uneven height of the wooden slabs of the back support, Yoongi made you the exact wooden swing that you drunkenly drew a long time ago when you two just started dating.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You heard Yoongi say behind you, and you wish he had said it the way he greeted you this morning – with such coldness and hurt. You felt like you didn’t deserve this with the way you’ve been treating him this past month.

Not wanting to hurt him any longer and bring back normalcy in your relationship, you turned to look at him, your eyes teary and said, “I… I'm sorry, babe.”

“Why? What is it?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and wondered which should you say first: you didn’t get him any gift, or you’re pregnant. You figured you should go with the bad news first before softening the mood with the good news, you’re just not sure which is which. “I didn’t get you any gift. I actually forgot it’s our anniversary today, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi fell silent before chuckling nervously. Sure, forgetting your own anniversary was bad, but that’s little compared to what Yoongi was imagining these past few days. “That’s alright, I thought it was something serious.”

“Why? What did you think I was going to say?” you prodded before you drop your next bomb.

“I don’t know what I thought, honestly. Things haven’t been quite well with us lately, Y/N.” He shrugged, scratching his nape. “I thought of pregnancy. There’s one where you don’t actually have a job anymore and just didn’t want to say it. I also thought you’re cheating with fucking Seokhoon—”

“Seok-Seokhoon? Why the hell would you think that? I couldn’t stand that guy.”

“I don’t know Y/N, you tell me, you’re the one who suddenly didn’t want to eat chicken because fucking Seokhoon is trying to be vegan.”

You thought about the lamb chops Seokhoon devoured at lunch today. You also remembered the night Yoongi was referring to, when you almost spilled your guts literally and figuratively at the smell of the chicken.

“Seokhoon isn’t vegan. But one of your hunches is true.” You walked towards him, taking his hand in yours and placing it on your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Yoongi froze for a minute, staring at your eyes down to your stomach that he’s touching. His gummy smile slowly broke into his face, giggling as he asked to confirm, “Pregnant? With babies?”

You nodded, matching his smile. “Yeah, pregnant, but hopefully just a singular baby. Or fetus, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to a clinic yet. I was putting it off because I want you to be there at the first checkup since I left you in the dark when I took the test. I'm really sorry about that, Yoongi, I just didn’t know how to say it. I was scared and nervous myself about this baby and I kn—”

Yoongi cut off your ramblings by kissing you. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought you were cheating when you were feeling this way all on your own. I should’ve asked you.”

You shook you head. “I'm sorry I let you think that, too. But there’s no way I would’ve betray you for Seokhoon or anyone else, really. I love you so much, Yoongi.”

You stood in your toes to kiss him again, muttering again and again how much you love him and how sorry you were. His hands stayed firmly on each side of you, and you didn’t pushed him away this time. You looped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer.

This one kiss – after all those weeks of just pecking and short kisses, after the frustrating mess that happened earlier morning – was so hungry and powerful and mind-numbing. You wouldn’t even wanna stop if a lightning strike near you two. You missed him so much, you would’ve take him right here, right now.

But Yoongi pulled away, breathing ruggedly as he said, “You haven’t tried it yet.”

“Tried the what yet?”

“The swing, don’t you wanna take a ride on it?”

Despite his innocent question referring to the swing, your eyes mischievously glinted and an idea popped into your mind. You took his hand and gestured for him to sit down. Trying to calm yourself down, you kissed your husband first before prying his legs open and kneeling down between them, instead of sitting beside him.

“What are you doing?” he smirked, enjoying the sight in front of him.

“I was thinking I could ride you on it instead, but first…”

With a coy smile, you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard cock. Licking your lips in anticipation, you wrapped your hand around him, thumb circling at the precum beading on his crown.

Yoongi hissed at sensation, bucking his hips up. “Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. It’s been a month.” His hands ran through your hair to keep them out of the way and prompted for you to start.

“Happy anniversary,” you greeted him before placing sloppy, wet mouth kisses on the head of his dick and moving them down while your hand was steadily stroking the base and the other was gently squeezing and rolling his balls.

When you made sure to coat every inch of his cock with your saliva, you kissed his crown one more time before taking him in your mouth, trying to fit whatever you can while your hand covered the rest.

“Ahh, that feels so good, babe. I’ve really missed you,” he rasped.

You moaned around him as you felt yourself getting wet even just at the sound of his voice and at the feeling of his heavy cock sliding in and out of your mouth. One of his hands weaved into your hair once again to carefully guide you at the pace he wanted. He bit his lip in concentration as he tried to restrain himself from just snapping his hips up to fuck your face but failing a couple of times, making you choke and teary-eyed.

Yoongi couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, mouth wide open full of his cock, eyes in tears staring up at him. His other hand cupped your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so well.”

His moans were getting louder and he started to lose control of his hips, a sign that Yoongi’s close to his orgasm. You released his cock to tease him a little bit, swirling your tongue over again at the sensitive spot of his crown as you pumped his length, making him all whiny as he repeated your name again and again like a mantra along with few curse words, before sucking him whole again with the intention of swallowing his hot cum. Which Yoongi delivered, a lot. And loudly.

You pulled yourself off of his cock, still semi-hard, and opened your mouth to show him that you’ve swallowed every drop of his cum. Still breathing heavily, Yoongi smiled proudly at you. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N baby. Come here.”

“Not to doubt you, but are you sure this won’t give out on us?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling where the swing is hanging.

“Of course not, at least three people can sit here. We’ll be fine, even when we finally have our kid sitting down here with us,” he replied, helping you get up at your feet.

You stared down at him, grinning at the thought of your kid playing at this very porch swing their daddy made in the future. But first, it’s gonna mommy and daddy’s turn on the swing for a while.

Because of the disastrous shower session earlier, you tried to make it up to your husband by wearing his favorite black lace lingerie underneath one of your red dress that gave out the equal vibe of classy and slutty to entice him on. You also figured, might as well wear them while you still can.

You unbuttoned the dress open from the top, revealing the lacy bra, causing Yoongi to raise his eyebrows.

“You wore lingerie to work?”

“Yeah, it turned out to be quite itchy and uncomfortable to wear for a long time actually,” you pouted. “Help me out of it, please.”

Yoongi leaned forward, one of his hands held you firmly by your waist while the other slipped beneath your dress, running his fingertips along the edge of your underwear before pulling them aside to sink a finger inside your cunt and moving it in a ‘come hither' motion. He added another finger while his thumb drew circles on your clit to send you over the edge.

You gasped, your hands paused from unclasping your bra to balance yourself on your husband’s shoulders as he stretched you out, spreading your slick all over your slit. When your juices had dripped down on his wrist, Yoongi took that as a cue that you’re wet enough and hooked his hands around your underwear to remove them before pulling you into his lap.

He gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching them up to your waist. You bit your lower lip as your pussy was pressing against his cock, feeling hard and thick against your wet core. Feeling impatient as Yoongi kissed your neck, you tried to move your hips, chasing that pleasure the friction gave you, in which you earned a gentle slap in the ass from him.

“Take this off,” he said, toying with the strap of your bra.

You nodded like a good girl, unclasping them from behind and took the straps of your shoulders. Yoongi pulled down your dress, revealing your tits. He stared at them for a second, both of his hands cupping each breast gently, thumbs grazing your soft skin and hardened nipple. You were about to make a joke when he leaned down to start licking and sucking one of your tits, while he massaged the other one.

While he was busy, you attempted to get yourself off by rocking your hips against him again, whether on his cock or his thigh, you didn’t care. A cry left your lips when he slapped your ass once again, a bit harder this time, before proceeding to grab your ass in his hands and dig his fingers in to help you move. You whimpered every time your sensitive clit rubbed pass his tip, making him almost poked your entrance.

Yoongi switched his attention on your other tit, but never faltering his movement to make you come on his cock. He could feel you’re close, your folds fluttering against his cock, your hips jerking more uncontrollably, your juices running down on his skin to the foam cushion he newly bought, making a mental note to buy a new one.

“Y—Yoongi…” you moaned, eyes scrunched close and head thrown back. “Oh, I'm gonna—oh fuck Yoongi—”

He looked up from your chest to stare at the fucked out expression on your face as you come, his hands on your hips controlling your move to help you ride out your orgasm. When he felt that you’re almost done coming down from your high, Yoongi lifted you up to line his tip against your entrance and helped you sink down on his cock. You moaned loudly at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out so deliciously after a month without an intercourse.

None of you spoke for a while, but you were thankful that Yoongi didn’t fuck you right away and instead let you adjust to the size as he sucked and nibbled every inch of your skin.

“If I’m pregnant right now, does that mean we don’t need a condom for a while? Or you can still get me pregnant while I’m pregnant?”

“It can happen, but it’s rare.” Yoongi saw your concerned expression, so he asked, “Do you want me to wear one?”

You smiled and shook your head immediately. “No. I want to feel you.” With that being said, you hooked your arms across his shoulders and started to bounce on his cock, grinding your clit on his pelvis everytime you come down.

Despite the frustrations and longing that Yoongi had built up for a month, he managed to calmly hold back and sit there as you ride him. At the back of his mind, he was also hesitant to pound his dick in and out of you without a care because he’s afraid he might hurt the baby. So he let you control the pace while his hands wander over your body, palming your tits and smacking your ass.

“Ahh Yoongi… please, fuck me.” You couldn’t keep your upper body straight anymore as your walls began on clenching around his dick, so you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I can’t—I feel so close again…”

“I know, baby, I got you now. You did great,” Yoongi whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on your head. He gripped your thighs in place, thrusting his hips upward into you and picked up the pace to bring you to your second orgasm.

You cried out in pleasure as Yoongi kept hitting that sweet spot inside you, your body beginning to tremble in his arms. You could feel him getting close too by the way his thrusts were being quick and sloppy so you curled your hand around the curly strands on his nape, your lips leaving wet kisses on his neck as you tried to give him hickeys.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit baby…”

You were lucky you live in a remote place and didn’t have any neighbors for miles as they would’ve surely heard Yoongi's loud groans and your high-pitched moans as you came together. Yoongi had thrust one more time inside you, bringing your hips down as he flushed your bodies together and filled your cunt with his thick cum.

None of you wanted to move at that moment, just catching up on your breaths and occasionally rocking your hips into each other for a potential round two when your stomach had a sudden craving — dumplings.

And dumplings reminded you of — “Oh my, god, we’re gonna have a baby dumpling in a few months.”

“I’m not a dumpling,” he groaned, burying his face on the crook of your neck as you laugh.

Min Yoongi was many things—a carpenter, a songwriter and producer, a basketball player, a dumpling (despite his denial), your loving husband, and in a few months, a proud father.

Hello! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and please, reblogs and feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated :)

If you want to support me and help with my dental care funds, please consider tipping me at ko-fi.com/aphrodijin or commission me to write you a fic. I could really use some help.

Thank you so much once again, have a great day! x

©️ 2022 aphrodijin

Do you have any recs for other yandere fics that you loved?

Ofc! I can definitely think of few that struck my mind.

First and foremost @chaoticpuff17 - there is not a fic of hers I wouldn't be thirsting over. Queen of queens. A Dangerous Game is my personal favourite obviously but I cannot help myself and be thrilled for Amygdala ♥

The bouquet series by @deepdarkdelights is manifique, chef kiss writer (ngl another author I could re-read like hundred times and would feel like I’m reading it for the first time.)

@dalchiid and her fic Covetous, unique and perfect read if you’re looking for longer series or love vampire aus

@bang-tan-bitches Beloved and Exitus acta probat is a must when you’re reading yandere yoongi

@btsugarush Gangsta fic got me real good, love it

not completely yandere-ish but if ur looking for good recs I cannot omit @theharrowing and Collateral. Bombastically good, absolute banger, can’t stop the re-read train every time I wait for a new chapter. If you’re looking for a good poly fic+mafia fic, this is that b*tch

Chapter III of my fic Lacrimosa will be out soon ♥

lots of love 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

s h i n u n o g a e - w a

p a i r i n g : yoongi x reader

g e n r e : husband au.

t a g s : soft smut, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, fiancé to husband!yoongi, this is really fucking soft, domesticity, slight dirty talk, he wakes you up by giving you head, he just rlly loves you

w o r d c o u n t : 1.9 k

s u m m a r y : four times you said I love you, + the one time yoongi says it first. alternatively: five special moments with your beloved husband.

"No need to ask cause it's my darling," 

Soft giggles fill the room, sun light pours in through the large glass windows that take up the walls. There's one window opened off to the side, the sound of birds chirping fill the entire living room up. You stand swaying in Yoongi's arms, right in the center of the room that's filled with all the flowers you have ever loved. 

He looks good wearing white, his hair falls over his eyes occasionally but he simply blows it out of his face. You can feel the tight grip he has on you, every time he dips you low he presses a gentle smooch to your soft lips. The "I love you's" are left unsaid, you can see it in his eyes just how much he loves you. 

You stare into his eyes with a bright smile, "Is this like a dance practice or something? Trying to make sure you won't drop me the day of our wedding?"

Yoongi snorts quietly and nuzzles into your shoulder, breathing in your soft scent, "You know I'll never drop you love," he turns to lay soft kisses up your neck and then the side of your face. 

A soft noise bubbles out of your throat as you turn to capture his lips and bring him closer to you. Yoongi deepens the kiss with a quiet groan and his arms tighten around your waist. "Fuck," he mutters out against your lips, "you drive me absolutely insane." 

You smiled softly, eyes fluttering open as you stare back at him, "You always say that." You eye his lips and then look back at him, "I love you." 

"I love you too," he presses his forehead against yours and smiles. 

.

"Oh don't you ever say bye-bye," 

Yoongi's eyes were stuck in place, time ceased to exist and the world stopped spinning. It was only you and him in this moment, he didn't even pay attention to the piano and violin playing in the background. Nor did he give any mind to his older brother, his groomsmen, when he congratulated him. It was all about you right now, nothing else mattered in his moment. 

You shot him a soft bashful smile, timidly looking into his eyes as your father walked you down the aisle towards him. You looked so beautiful in all white, the veil did nothing to obscure your beauty, you looked like a goddess. He could see the heart locket necklace he first gifted you when you were six months into dating, it's been ages since he last saw that locket (you kept it stored away in perfect condition). 

You reached the altar and Yoongi immediately stepped down to gently take your hand and help you up the steps after he promised your father to take care of you. "You look handsome," you cheekily whispered to him. 

"And you look like a princess." He chuckled, "Very beautiful indeed." 

The ceremony began, the entire time Yoongi had his hand lain over yours as the two of you waited for the moment you'd exchange the vows and rings. You were anxious, heart rapidly beating in your chest. Yoongi sensed your nervousness and he gently ran his thumb over your knuckles to soothe you. 

"I promise," Yoongi softly began when he started his vows, "to love and cherish you for the rest of my life like I promised those years back when you first accepted to be my girlfriend. I loved you then and I love you way much more now. I knew from the beginning I wanted you in my life forever and now I get to call you my wife, mine forever." He presses his forehead to yours, smiling when he sees your teary eyes and wobbly smile as he slides the ring on to your finger.

"You may now kiss the bride," and with that he captures your lips in a gentle and passionate kiss. 

The crowd of guests erupt in loud cheers and whistles. You laugh happily against his lips and look up at him lovingly. "I love you so much.." 

"I love you too.." 

.

"I want you to be my last,"

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt a pair of hands gently stroking your hips and then reaching up to cup your tits. You moaned in surprise when Yoongi gently suckled on your throbbing bud, you weren't aware that your husband had his face between your soft thighs and your legs tossed over his shoulders. 

"You awake baby?" Yoongi softly whispers when he pulls back. 

You reach down to pull the sheets off of the two of you, "Yeah," you softly say, reaching down to gently stroke his fluffy long hair, "how long have you been awake?" You chuckle when he tilts his head to the side and smushes his cheek against your thigh as he stares up at you with lovestruck eyes. 

"Not that long either love," he hums, "you were looking so pretty and I couldn't help myself." He presses a chaste kiss on your thigh and then got back to work. 

His eyes fluttered closed as he circled your clit when his tongue, lapping at it slowly and pressing down to apply the slightest of pressure. Yoongi slid his hands back down to gently rub your thighs and then slip them under your soft ass cheeks to grip them. Your lips part in a silent moan as your hands come down stroke his hair and push it out of his face. 

"Fuck Yoongi," you whisper out as your eyes slip shut and you relax, "like that." 

Yoongi's fingers gently prod you open as he slips the long digits inside of you. They fill you so nicely and send tingles down your spine. You push your hips upwards and rock against his fingers, your pussy begins to slick up and make lewd squelching noises. "Yoongi," you whimper and arch your back, gently twisting the sheets and gripping it tightly. 

He works his tongue around your clit even faster, flicking it back and forth as his fingers curl upwards and stroke over your walls. Yoongi groans against your soaked cunt, pulling back as he soft panted and watched as his fingers disappeared inside of your cunt. "You gonna cum for me baby?" He lazily smirks, licking his slick covered lips. 

"Y-Yeah," you softly breathe out, chest rising and falling as your cunt tightens around his fingers, you're teetering on your orgasm by now, "so close," you bite your lip. 

Yoongi moves his fingers faster and faster, watching you closely and right when you're about to cum he stops and slips his fingers out. You whimper in confusion and open your eyes with a confused pout, "W-Why? I was so close," you whined out.

"Want you to come on my cock baby," Yoongi crawls up and gently pins you down, "feels like my cock is about to fall off with how hard it is." He groans rutting against your thighs, cock slapping against your skin occasionally. "Need your pussy so badly." He whispers and leans down to kiss you. 

A soft little moan leaves you, your arms come up to gently wrap around his neck and tug him closer. He lays his body flat against yours, hand coming down to grip his cock as he strokes it slowly and lazily slaps it against your pussy. You spread your legs widely for him as he makes himself at home and slides his cock inside. 

"Shit." Yoongi sighs out in utter bliss as he pushes all the way inside. 

You stare up at him with a teary gaze, "Fuck me Yoongi, please," you whimper, "feels so good baby." You roll your hips against him, trying to get his cock deeper inside of you. 

Yoongi started up at a normal pace, pushing in deeply and pressing against you. His cock filled you just perfectly, pressing against each of your sweet spots. Your moans were breathier and shallow, thighs shaking just a little because your pussy was throbbing from the denied orgasm moments prior.

"Coming already baby?" He breathes out, "Can feel your little pussy tightening around me baby. You gonna make a mess on me?" He pants out, hips moving faster and faster. 

He speeds up drastically and causes the mattress to shift and squeak. His hips slap against yours, balls pressing against your ass with each thrust. Your moans grow in volume, you scramble to grip his forearms, "Yoongi...!" You cry out.

He growls lowly and leans down to suck dark marks on to the side of your neck. "Go on baby, make a mess all over my cock." He lifts one of your thighs up and tosses it over his shoulder as he grinds into your pussy repeatedly. His cock drives deep into your g-spot, heightening your pleasure.

You cry out in shock and toss your head back, "Yoongi! Oh fuck baby..!" You tremble as your toes curl in pleasure. 

You cum with a loud moan, head thrown back and nails digging into his forearms. Yoongi hisses, "That's it baby, cum for me, like that," he whispers in pleasure and slams into you repeatedly. His thrusts jostle you on the bed, you bounce in place and struggle to get a grip on him. 

His mouth parts, eyes squeezing shut as he shoves his cock deep inside of you. He shudders in pleasure and slows down to a grind as his cock throbs weakly inside of you. His cum spills into you, filling your pussy to the brim. He pants harshly and leans down to kiss over your neck and lips. 

"I love you baby..." He sleepily mumbles. 

"Love you too." 

.

"If I had to keep being separated from you like this, I'd rather die,"

You sat next Yoongi enjoying the music blaring out in the arena as the basketball players all got ready for the upcoming game. Yoongi had his hand in yours, thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles for comfort. You pursed your lips and looked around, "Are we heading straight back home after this?" You lean over to murmur in his ear. 

"Do you want to go back?" Yoongi says back with a serious look, "We can head home after this unless you wanna stay for a couple more days here in Japan." 

You nod with a smile and peck his lips, "Yeah that sounds good love I don't mind." You sit back in your seat and nod your head a little to the beat of the music playing in the background. 

Yoongi admires your side profile for a moment before he turns back to what he was doing before you spoke with him. Someone on the mic suddenly calls out to your husband, referring to him as their special guest. "We have the Mrs here too," they say, panning the camera to you and Yoongi as people in the seats above all cheer and clap for you two. 

You shyly lean into Yoongi's side and smile for the camera that is aimed at you and your husband. Yoongi sees that your faces are still on the big screen so he leans over to smooch you gently in front of everyone. The cheers get louder and you find yourself laughing awkardly. 

"Yoongi are you doing that on purpose?" You say in amusement as you stare into his eyes.

Yoongi smiles at you, shrugging as he chooses not answer. You roll your eyes fondly and lay your head on his shoulder. "I love you Yoongi." You gently hold his hand. 

He squeezes your hand gently in return, "I love you too y/n." He murmurs in return. 

Forever.

family man | myg

➙ SUMMARY | Min Yoongi is a family man, there’s no doubt about it. But which family is the question: his crime ring, looking up to their Don? Or you, his wife and kids?

➙ PAIRING | Don!Yoongi x reader

➙ GENRE | The Godfather!AU, 1970s!AU, mafia!AU, angst, smut

➙ RATE | 18+

➙ WC | 6.8k

➙ VOCAB INDEX | these are terms used in old-school New York / within The Godfather in association with the Italian mafia that aren’t as common presently, which I employ in the fic.

Caporegime: a high ranking member of a crime family, usually directly under an Underboss or Don

Cold Coffee: bad luck

Consigliere: an advisor to a crime boss

Don: The head of a crime family

Family: the regular kind, but can also mean a crime ring

Sleeping with the fishes: dead

➙ A/N | PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ THIS! this has darker themes than any of my previous fics babes , make sure you're comfortable before you dive in.

— WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT —

➙ WARNINGS | violence, m*rder, mentions of blood, mentions of a drive-by, explicit gory scenes, mentions of disembodiment, some gory imagery, guns, shooting, descriptions of fear, immorality, misogyny, gender roles, weapons, toxic relationship / marriage dynamics, manipulation, intimidation, fear, gaslighting, he makes her cry, scare tactics, smoking a cigarette, gun play, ring play, face grabbing, manhandling, rough sex, fingering, hickies, slight dumbification, degradation, humiliation, taunting, use of ‘bitch’ & ‘whore’, daddy kink, threat of penetration with a foreign object, primal references, breeding kink

“IT’S THE NEXT big thing, Don Min. You invest now, and you’ll be reaping millions, just by the end of the month. Trust in the casino business, it’s the most reliable investment—besides brothels of course—” the man paused to titter at his joke, expecting to lighten the Don’s mood. But Yoongi’s face remained stoic as ever, piercing eyes and a head tilt his signature, “your grandchildren’s grandchildren will be set, I’ll tell ya.” 

There was a lull, silence meeting the man’s words. His excited proposition fell onto intimidating ears. Yoongi contemplated the man’s words with a hard-to-read expression. He was infamous for his poker face—the don’s steady demeanor, rarely fazed, was his signature. 

“It seems prosperable.” Yoongi said finally. The man before him physically relaxed, his tense shoulders loosening their iron grip. “What did I do to earn such a thoughtful gesture, Noto?” 

Noto laughed. “Is that a question? You’re my Don, of course. My first thought was to humbly ask for your support in this business endeavor.” He bowed his head, “I am grateful that you find value in my proposal.” 

Yoongi nods, a humorless puff of air leaving his mouth with a polite smile. He picked up the small glass of wine in front of him. “You’re right—and as your Don, I highly appreciate your respect. You know it carries weight with me.” He took a modest sip, slowly. He put his glass down, leaning back in his chair. “So forgive me if I’m a little confused as to why you already have a deal with Don Choi.” 

Noto was visibly frazzled at the confrontation. It was clear he didn’t think Don Min had any knowledge of his disloyalty—going behind his own Don’s back when he was approached by Choi’s people, after serving Don Min so loyally for so many years. Noto only wondered if the Don had any knowledge of the other deal between him and Choi…

The room tensed around Noto, pressure in the air building and pushing against his body. He loosened his necktie, finding oxygen hard to come by. His eyes darted between the caporegimes in the room, hesitantly landing back across the table. “Don Min, forgive me. But you know it’s just business, huh? Come on, you know me.” His intention is friendly, but his undertones panicked. “I’d never do anything to jeopardize your friendship. It was just, ah… bit of smart accounting, that’s all.” 

Yoongi nodded in understanding. “I see.” His hands clasped on the table as he leaned his weight forward. He shrugged. “It’s just business.” Noto nodded, keeping a nervous eye out for the other men in the room. “Of course, Don.” 

“Well, then,” Yoongi stretched his hand out—Noto flinched before he realized the absence of a threat—”count me in.” Yoongi’s expression was polite, with no hint of a smile or inviting gestures, but it was personal in a distinct Yoongi-like manner.

Noto let out a sigh of relief, reaching over vivaciously to shake the Don’s generously offered hand. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret this, believe me.” 

Yoongi let the man clasp his ringed finger with both of his hands, shaking his appreciation. He nodded benevolently, patting Noto’s head. “I’m sure I won’t.” 

Noto bowed his head again to the Don, taking his cue to depart. He bid farewell to the other men in the room, nodding his head one by one—to Jung Hoseok’s handsomely stern pout, sat at Min Yoongi’s right hand; to Kim Namjoon’s stone cold expression, the Don’s consigliere; and finally to the youngest associate in the room, Jeon Jungkook. The Don’s newest recruit. Noto knew the boy well, having crossed paths with him at the house and the Don’s office, and never missed a chance to haze him. 

He reached over to Jungkook easily—he was sat closest, to Noto’s right—with the full intention of ruffling his respectable hairstyle into one of disarray. But his hand didn’t touch a hair on Jungkook’s head before the shots left Yoongi’s gun, dropping Noto to the floor. 

The body fell with a thud, chairs screeching against the tile floor as the weight pushed them away. Jungkook’s vest had caught a small splatter of blood, but the boy was quick to retrieve a small solution of laundry detergent from his inner pocket, dabbing at the fabric. 

Yoongi passed the gun to Hoseok, retrieving a handkerchief in return. “Shame. He was useful.” He wiped his hands clean, back to prim and proper, as always. “Traitorous bastard,” Namjoon spat. The blood pooled out of Noto’s body as the men all made to stand up. 

Yoongi didn’t spare a single glance down as he stepped over the body with his shiny leather shoes, shoes crisp to the ground as he carried on. “Find out who his contacts were. The proposition was good—he was onto something. And I’ll be damned if I let Choi get a hold of it first.” 

“Sure,” Hoseok was careful not to get any blood on his new, imported suit as he stepped around the body. “But how eager do you think they’ll be to switch? Surely that greasy Choi’s got ‘em under his protection.” 

Yoongi pushed his slicked hair back. “Make ‘em an offer they can’t refuse.” 

“Papa!” 

The front door closing shut was followed immediately by two loud screeches and two pairs of small footsteps running to greet him.

“I missed you, papa.” Your daughter’s hands reached up as high as they could go, fingers wiggling to be picked up. His son was crowding his legs, next to his daughter, trying to talk over her. Yoongi scooped her in one fell swoop, but his eyes looked past the kids—and he saw you. 

You were in the kitchen with your apron on—tell-tale signs of the dinner he missed. You were busy with the dishes, but the sound of the door made you look up, spotting your husband for the first time that day. 

He saw the way you dropped your gaze immediately. How you busied yourself, feigning distraction in an effort to fend his eyes off. He could see the pout you wore deepening at his presence, a scowl forming as a result. Aimed at him—your husband who missed dinner. 

“Dad, look what I made,” your son was vying for his attention, eager to show him his paper mache airplane.

Yoongi tore his gaze away, turning his attention back to his children. “Show me how it works, bud…”

Your drawer door slammed shut. “You’re always sorry, Yoongi. I don’t need your sorries.” Your robe moved as you turned around. “I need you to be here.” 

“I know.” His hands landed on your arms, rubbing comfortingly as he tried to catch your angry gaze at the floor, ducking his head. His sleeves were rolled up, his forearms on display, as he pulled you into his embrace, landing a kiss to the top of your head. Your arms stayed crossed, even as your cheek was pressed to his chest. “I’m sorry, baby. You know I don’t want to, but sometimes life’s some cold coffee. It’s for the prot—” 

“For the protection of the family. I know.” Yoongi was slightly taken aback by how you finished his sentence; even more so when you continued. “‘For the good of the family, for the protection of the family. I do everything for the family.’ I’ve heard it all, Yoongi.” You pulled away from his embrace, uncrossing your arms only to press your palms into his chest, and away. You retreated to the other side of the room, your back turned to him as you sat on the bed.

It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when you and Yoongi hardly went a moment without seeing each other, buzzing with longing if you two were separated. Before the kids, and the big house. Before the long work hours and closed doors. Before the secrets, and his rise to the role of Don. Before his father’s death. 

Yoongi was a different person back then, full of ambition and a hunger for honest-to-god, good living. He was on track to become a lawyer, or a senator. Something respectable. As the youngest of the family, this was never supposed to be his role—the head of the family would’ve always gone to his older brother when the previous Don’s time had passed. The plan was for Yoongi to lead an honest life. 

But he was a family man at heart. Showed up for his family when his brother was gunned down; comforted his grieving mother when his father passed of a heart attack. He stepped up, and assumed his responsibility. But along the way, that hunger and passion turned cold, and pivoted towards a more ruthless and unforgivable way of life. 

Though young when he’d been anointed don, he was smart; cunning. He gained respect and gathered power and influence faster than anyone had ever heard of. He was too good at his job, you always feared. And today, it was just dinner—but it’d build up, higher and higher until you were looking up at the man on a pedestal too high for you to touch. You could feel the Yoongi you once knew slipping away through your fingertips. 

“I saw the paper today.” Your voice was heavy after the lull of silence that had settled over the room. “You did it, didn’t you?” 

“You’re going to have to be more specific, sweetheart.” Yoongi sighed. 

“The newsboy, dead on Broad street. They said he got caught in a crossfire, but I know a drive-by when I see one. I heard Hoseok mention Broad street the other day, and—” you took a deep breath to calm your rising chest. “It was you, wasn’t it.” 

“Haven’t I told you not to ask about my work?” Yoongi’s voice had slipped into warning, a sigh on the tip of his tongue. 

But you didn’t stop. “You gave the order, Yoongi. To kill that boy. I don’t care what your excuse was, he saw something, he heard something. You came home … that night , and put our son to sleep with his blood on your hands, I—” a sob chokes you, your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You don’t want the kids to hear. 

“Stop it.” He crosses the room to you, pulling your hand away from your mouth. A sob breaks through, and he brushes a tear away with his thumb as he caresses your face. “I said stop,” he commanded. And you swallow the next sob—with nothing muffling you, the sounds could easily travel under the door and into your childrens’ rooms.  

Yoongi sighs and shakes his head, as if your reaction was an inconvenience. “I told you not to ask about my work.” His fingers slip away from your face, out of his caress. He sits down next to you purposefully, tilting your tear-stained face towards him. “But just this once. Okay?” 

You swallow, but the lump in your throat doesn’t go away. You’re scared for the whisper to leave your mouth, scared of his answer. But you have to know. “W-was it you?” 

He doesn’t break your eye contact, but his expression is unreadable. You search for any inkling, any hint. But he awards you none—it was his forte. After a few long, excruciating seconds, he answers you in a soft, firm, steady voice. “No.” 

You search his eyes for any other answer, any rogue feeling gone awry. But there isn’t any. You fall into his embrace in relief, unable to prevent your hiccuping cry. 

“Sh,” he pats your head. His voice is soft as he wipes the tears silently falling from your eyes. “Hey now, you’re alright. We’re alright.” He’s hugging you as her sobs shake your body, allowing yourself to be coddled and calmed by him. He was always a rock—a steady sangfroid against an ever volatile world.

“Please stop working so much.” You sniffle, looking up at him. “What’s the point of family if we don’t ever see you.” Your voice is tiny, but he hears. “One dinner. That’s all I want.” 

He looks down at you, his lips shifting into a soft smile. He kisses the top of your forehead. “How’s tomorrow?” 

The office blinds are open, allowing for a shutter of light to drift in. Lamps are lit around the room, illuminating the presence of the caporegimes and consigliere seated purposefully. 

“The Kangs are one of the oldest families in New York. We should be able to trust them.” Hoseok argued. 

“The way Don Kim was able to trust them?” Namjoon shot back. They all knew what had happened to the Kim family—the old Don was shot in a drive-by by a car notably driven by the Kang family. No one was able to prove it, the oldest son, Seokjin, assuming power soon after. Seokjin had proven to be a strategist, focusing all of his efforts on moving out west and relocating his family to profit from a more authentic enterprise, cutting crime out almost entirely from the family. He’d gotten his revenge in the end, though. In the form of Kang’s youngest son’s head delivered to him on a shiny platter. 

“They wouldn’t dare try anything at a meeting on our ground, not even a piece on ‘em.” Hoseok countered, but Yoongi held his hand up, silencing the room. 

“Namjoon’s right. They can’t be trusted.” Namjoon smirked smugly. “But we can’t outright refuse a meeting. It’s a show of disrespect. We’ll send people to meet ‘em somewhere public, at a restaurant full of civilians and shit. It’s safer.” 

Hoseok nodded, turning to signal another man, who left the room promptly to carry out the don’s instructions. 

Yoongi turned his attention to the next matter, facing Hoseok. “Did you take care of that newsboy problem?” 

“Of course, sir. He’s sleeping with the fishes.” Hoseok confirmed. “I’ve got the package we intercepted safely hidden.” 

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully. “Good. And, hey. Be more careful next time, huh? Yn saw the papers, and heard you mention Broad street. I don’t need her or anyone else asking questions.” 

“He was in a rush to get home that day, sir.” Namjoon had a hint of a smile on his face, much to Hoseok’s chagrin. “His wife was ovulating.” The room broke into soft chuckles, the men’s shoulders shaking silently with laughter. Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“Regardless,” Hoseok interrupted. “Those damn Amatas never knew what hit ‘em.” 

“Serves them right, pushing our borders like that,” Namjoon riles up. He leans forward, “I mean, what did they think—” 

“It’s bullshit,” Hoseok agreed.” 

“They’ve been eyeing our business for a while now.” Park Jaisang, a senior caporegime to the don, chimed in. “It looks like they want to use their Transport connections to somehow overtake our business by controlling our intake of goods. 

“I’ll tell you what. They can take their transport connections, and shove ‘em up where—” Namjoon was in the middle of making a fist with his hands and pounding it in an obscene manner when Jaisang interrupted. 

“Anyways, we’ll have to push back. Protect our goods without interfering with their business. Otherwise we lose our connection.” 

“Well what if we…” Hoseok started, and the room fell into discussion. Heavy “No fucking way”s and “Forget about it!”s followed almost every proposition. 

Yoongi sat quietly, thinking. The men, running through and out of ideas, turned to their don, asking for his thoughts. Park Jaisang spoke, “There doesn’t seem to be a viable way to go about pushback without losing our transport connection.”

Yoongi was quiet for several moments, his head tilting to the side as he pondered. The room fell silent as his low voice arose. “Then we’ll have to take it over.” 

More silence followed his words. They all look at the don in shock. Jaisang was the one to voice their concerns, “It’s a big operation, Don Min. Bigger than we’ve handled before.” 

Yoongi leans forward in his chair, using his hands as sound actions as he talks, pointing to various sports on the desk as he lists, “With their business, we could control all of New York’s shipments. We wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else.” His voice is calm, deep. As though he wasn’t just outlining a plan to overthrow one of the biggest shipping companies on the East coast. Almost as though he was just discussing the weather. 

“Yes, but we’re not equipped for it.” Namjoon reminded, raising an important point. 

“So. We’re going to get equipped.” His voice was definitive, uninviting to debate. The room fell into another lull as understanding dawned on the men—Yoongi’s plans for the operation were bigger than any of them knew until now. The young Don was hungry, and he had the ambition to chase it. 

“Well, we’d have to start with…” They launched into logistics immediately, taking the boss’ command and running with it, like proper caporegimes. 

Through the discussion, Jeon Jungkook had quietly gained the don’s ear, to his left, “Excuse me, Don. You told me to notify you at 7:00 PM.” 

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why? What’s at 7 PM?” 

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Your family dinner, sir.” 

Fuck. Yoongi glanced up at the grandfather clock in his office. Sure enough, The clock was soon to strike 7, giving him thirty minutes to get back to the house in time to sit down for family dinner. Though, the lively discussion taking place wasn’t about to end soon. They were launching a full-scale operation. It needed time, planning. It needed his full attention. 

You’d have to understand. 

“Thank you, Jeon. Carry on.” 

The moment he steps into your bedroom, he knows how this is going to go. 

You don’t look at him when he calls out a greeting, eyes pointedly focused on your book. He silently scoffs, shaking his head as he goes to hang his suit jacket up in the closet. A row of neatly folded clothes and freshly pressed shirts greet him—fruits of your labor today. 

“You missed dinner.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. He can probably guess your dialogue word for word. You missed dinner, how could you, you promised, you work too much. He sighs, rolling his sleeves up. He’s in the mood, not after the day he’s had. 

But you go on, as if on cue. “You promised.”

He knows you have a right to be upset, but hadn’t you two had this conversation, at least a hundred times, before? You knew his excuses, as he knew your nags. You knew he was at work, and that he would get caught up sometimes. He was a Don, for chrissake.. 

Women. Only concerned with their dinners and clothes. Throwing a temper tantrum when their husbands get caught up with real business. So busy spending his money you don’t care what it takes to earn it. So busy raising his kids you don’t know what it takes to keep them safe. 

“Now you’re not even going to talk to me?” Your voice drifts through his tired, irritated mind, just begging to be disciplined. The lack of respect you have for him as a wife is jarring. If a husband were to come home, exhausted after a long day, his wife is supposed to first greet him, preferably with food. She’s supposed to let him relax, put the kids to bed, and shut the fuck up while he unwinds, to award him some peace and quiet. 

She isn’t supposed to run her mouth. Like a filthy brat.

“Yoongi—” 

“Stop it.” He turned around, his gaze sharp on your thin slip, barely covering you up. “I mean it.” 

“We need to talk—” 

He strides towards the bed, footsteps loud on the wooden floor as makes his way to the dresser next to you, roughly pulling his necktie off with a warning evident in his eyes. “Shut up.” His voice is dangerously low and steady; the calm before the storm. 

You look back at him with your bottom lip threatening to jut out, like a child throwing a tantrum. Your brows are furrowed, your gaze indignant. Several moments pass as you stare at him, contemplating whether or not to open your mouth. You seem to be weighing the consequences. But your grievances win out in the end; you cross your arms over your chest, an attempt to look strong, but it only displays how weak the wall you’d put up was. 

“You parade around like a family man,” you taunt with a precarious voice, “But you’re a fake, Min Yoongi. A poser and a fake.” 

The thread keeping his composure together was thin to begin with, but with your perfectly targeted words, it snaps like a weak twig. He reaches over, easily grabbing your arm. Your eyes widen, darting to his hand, but quickly back to his face—anticipating his next move. 

He leans close, “And you’re the perfect mother? You’re a princess,” he spits, “sitting here at home all day, wearing pretty little dresses and decorating our baby’s room with bows and frills. But you want me to be a family man. You want me to sit at home playing dress up with you?” He grabs your face. “You wanna have quiet family dinners while bullets fly through our window? Because I was at home playing house? Because my wife threw a temper tantrum?” 

The whimper you let out is outside of your control, but it only makes Yoongi’s fingers tighten into your cheeks. “Who’s going to protect you when you’re out spending my money, huh? Who’s going to put a roof over your head, or food in your fridge?” He’s getting closer with each syllable—you can feel the spit flying everywhere, drops hitting your skin. He’s a breadth away from your lips when he says, “Who’s going to fuck those babies into you, the ones you wanted so badly?” His eyes are dark as he tilts his head, trailing his breath up your jawline. “Who’s going to pump you full of their cum, impregnate you like the bitch you are?” Blood is pounding in your ears, your breathing uneven as you try to hold perfectly still. 

He pushes you away, the force making you fall back into the bed. Your heart is racing, beating loudly from the intimate moment he just broke. Straightening up, he looks at your pitiful figure, “The disrespect you show me, when I’m all that stands between you and a bullet in your head.” He tsks, looking down disappointedly. “You have no idea what it takes. But I’m about to teach you, sweetheart.” 

He grabs your hand without looking at you, making your book fall from your lap as he pulls you off of the bed to follow him. Your breath is caught in your throat as you follow behind the man, weaving you through the house, and out the kitchen door into the backyard. You don’t realize your destination until he tugs you into the stand-alone garage, and locks the door behind you. 

He leaves you standing there, taking lazy steps around, as he lights his cigarette. The silence is eerie as he puffs, tucking his hand into his pocket and turning around to face you. He looks you up and down, standing meekly at the entrance with only your slip gown. He was in almost his full suit,  suspenders and all—he’d only gotten as far as taking off his jacket before…

He ends the staring contest with your body, leaning back against the garage wall nonchalantly. “Pick it up.” He nods over at the gun laying on the table in front of you. You take one look at the intimidating thing, and back up, where a target lay ahead of you—what the men used for practice—and your head whips back to him. 

“Pick it up.” He repeats, calm as ever, inhaling more smoke. Though his tone wasn’t turbulent, it awarded you with no room to argue—he isn’t going to ask again. 

Hesitantly, you reach a shaky hand out, feeling the cool metal under your touch as your hand wrapped around the gun. You’re sure you’re holding it wrong when you lift it up, surprised at the weight—it’s heavier than it looks. You turn it over in your hand, examining it up close. There was always a distance between you and guns, whether it was in someone else’s hand, or laying around in a room you never entered. This was the first time you had a good look at the deadly weapon. It wasn’t as scary up close. 

You feel Yoongi’s presence behind you before you hear it, his hand wrapping over yours. You look back, startled. “Put your finger here–like that—” he instructs, guiding your hands over the unfamiliar object. It’s slightly difficult when your body’s quivering, unaware of why he’s teaching you how to hold a gun. 

“Good.” He praises once you get a good hold. He reaches over you, his body pressing into your back, enveloping you entirely, to retrieve the bullets out of a drawer. And a second gun. 

“This is how you load ‘em.” His fingers work quickly, the gun clicking in the fearful silence you’re standing in. Once the barrel closes shut, he shows it to you. Leaning into your ear, over your shoulder, he nods at the gun in your hand, “Don’t worry, yours is already loaded.” 

You almost drop the gun in fright, your hand suddenly running cold. It suddenly feels as though the hand holding the gun didn’t belong to you, like its master was extracorporeal, simply attached to your body. But it wasn’t an alien presence—it was just Yoongi, holding the strings like a puppet master. 

“Stand here,” he grips your shoulders, moving you roughly to stand further back, directly in front of the makeshift target. His fingers run down your dominant arm, sending a warm sensation through your body. Once he reaches your wrist, he guides it upwards, making you point the barrel of the gun at the target. “Put your finger on the trigger.” 

Your heart starts beating rapidly in your chest, and you start to shake. He isn’t really going to make you go through with this? “Yoongi—” 

He doesn’t have patience, cutting off your sentence with an exasperated sigh and moving your finger over the trigger himself. “Fucks sake.” Tears well up in your eyes as your breathing is irregulated.

“Now, you wanted me to come home, so you have to protect the family.” His voice is low, his mouth pressed to your ear. “Shoot.” 

Your hand is shaking way too much, you have to support it with your other hand, grabbing it by the wrist. You shake your head, “Yoongi, I can’t—”

 “You can demand shit from me but you can’t pull a trigger?” He scoffs, holding you tightly at the waist to make sure you can't move away. Your eyes are teary when you shake your head, and he tsks. “Maybe you need a little motivation.” 

You hear the clicking of the gun behind you before you can register the feel of the cold metal pressed to your temple. On the other end of Yoongi’s hand is the barrel of his gun, pressing into you with a threatening force. His voice is steady as rock when he breathes, “Shoot.” 

Fear pierces through your heart, and your breath stops. Your tears break through the dam, running down your face as you silently weep. You’re afraid to make a sound, unsure of what’ll set off the precarious trap. You choke back sobs as you silently plead to Yoongi, hoping he’ll somehow understand. No such luck.

“Either you shoot, or I shoot.” Yoongi delineates. You chance a look at him, your eyes darting to his face—he’s stone cold. Not a hint of warmth to reassure you. You’ve seen this Yoongi before—the ruthless don who made difficult decisions. But you never thought you’d be on the other end of his gun. 

You wanted to believe your husband was a good man—that he’d never even consider blowing a hole through his wife, leaving his children motherless. You wanted to believe that he was a family man at heart, and that the softness you once saw in him was still alive. But deep down, you’d long accepted that the man you’d agreed to marry was gone. You didn’t know what this man was truly capable of. 

Maybe it’d never be a bullet in your head, but this was a test regardless—an allegory. Adrenaline shoots through your heart as you promise to yourself repeatedly that you’d never disobey him again. And you couldn’t now, either. 

You shut your eyes tightly as your hands tremble, but you tighten them further around the gun, lest you cause an accident with your unsteadiness. You send a small prayer up to the heavens before finding the trigger with your index finger. A sob breaks out of your chest, and the bullet leaves the gun in the time it took for a single tear drop to leave your ducts. 

The loud unexpected sound startles you, and amplifies this moment, the kickback even worse. You drop the gun immediately, not at all concerned about where the bullet landed on the target. You turn around to find refuge, sobbing as you throw yourself into Yoongi’s chest. Your whole body shakes as you grasp his shirt tightly with your fists, looking for something to hold you up before you collapse to your knees. 

“I can’t, Yoongi. I’m sorry,” you blubber, “I’m so sorry, please don’t make me do that again. I’m sorry—” 

Yoongi’s hand strokes your head as he shushes you. “Hey, it’s okay. Sh, baby, you don’t have to do it again.” He holds you close, safe. You nod as your shaking body winds down to a quiver, clutching Yoongi like a lifeline. He tilts your head up and makes your tear-stained face look at him, and the cold, soulless eyes you’d seen before were replaced with a soft look. He wiped your tear away with his thumb, and you leaned your cheek into his hand, a calming feeling meeting your veins for the first time that night. 

Until, “But you still disrespected me, didn’t you?”

You look at him with wide, teary eyes, wondering what fate would befall you next. You nod meekly. 

“What kind of husband would I be if I let that behavior fly, hm?” You want to point that he didn’t let it fly, that the reasons for your tears right now had to do with him not letting you get away with it. But you keep your mouth shut. 

His hand trails down your night slip, taunting the thin fabric. You let out a gasp when he reaches your core, a criminal smirk ghosting onto his lips. You feel his fingers pressing into you through the fabric, the indent of his rings making it clear. “You deserve to be punished, right?” 

You nod again without much thought, bowing your head. He has a right to punish you, you’d spoken much too boldly. A mistake you now have to pay for. 

“That’s what I fucking thought.” 

You suddenly find yourself clutching to his bicep for dear life as he pushes you backwards, towards the table in the center of the garage. Hoisting you up, he’s quick to tug your nightgown up roughly, surely ripping some of the seams. His tongue peeks out at the sight of your panties, running over his lips salaciously. “Whatcha put all the bows and frills on for? For me?” His hand runs up your thigh, and he leans closer over you. “Wanted to surprise your husband?” 

You gulp with a weak nod, now feeling pathetic about your earlier excitement. “So you do have a semblance of what it means to be a wife.” His fingers explore your garment, finding a protruding wetness seeping through. You burn in shame as his fingers press into you through the fabric, shutting your eyes at the squishing sound beneath his hand. 

“Your body knows it belongs to me, huh?” He drawls, pushing his tongue into his cheek.You can’t handle the eye contact, looking away in humiliation. He takes your exposed neck as an opportunity, hungrily leaning in to take a bite. 

You whimper as his teeth sink into your skin, his breaths loud in your ear as sloppily tongues your neck. You start to squirm with the sensations running through your veins, but he holds you still. He’s engulfing you with his body, hands pinned to either side of you, leaving you trapped underneath him. Like a hunter, who’s ensnared his prey and begins to feast. 

A tearing sound breaks through the room, the scraps of your panties throw over Yoongi’s shoulder as the culprit. He doesn’t pay any attention to your surprised face, just takes advantage of the new exposure and immediately cups your heat. His fingers run over your folds, like he was feeling them out—like you were his property, and he was doing a routine check. But there was nothing routine about the way he started rubbing fervently, his rings dragging across your folds. 

Your legs started to shake in anticipation as he explored, teasing your clit and your opening. When he finally sunk his fingers in, it was embarrassingly easy—something Yoongi didn’t fail to notice. “Look at how you suck me in,” he taunts with a pretty smile, the devil behind it. “I own you.” 

You cry out as the ridges of his rings nudge against your entrance. It doesn’t deter Yoongi, fully pushing them in and filling you to the brim. The metal feels cool against your hot walls, and you can’t stop kicking your legs. 

“Quit it.” Yoongi huffs, snatching your legs up in one fell swoop and pushing you down on your back. He holds your legs to his chest with one hand as the other pumps your cunt, your slick making it an easy glide. “Fucking brat.”

Your legs are quivering in his grasp, but he doesn’t let up. His iron grip is strong as his fingers move quickly in and out of your cunt. Your squishy walls are unaccustomed as the protruding rings penetrate you in invasive ways. You know one of them has his family emblem engraved into the metal—it’s like he’s branding you on the inside, too. A stamp to make sure you belonged to Don Min. 

His thrusts are ruthless, two fingers opening you up. You constrict around him, can’t help the way the metal makes you feel. You feel your end approaching quickly, not sure how much more of this stimulation you can take. “Yoongi, please, I-I’m—” 

He must’ve guessed the end of your sentence because he immediately pulls his fingers out, ignoring your cries as he wipes the essence on your slip with a sneer, soiling your clothes. He doesn’t have a care in the world about how hard you’re going to have to scrub tomorrow to wash it out. It’s not his problem. 

“This bratty shit, it never ends.” He scoffs, pushing your legs away from him aggressively. “Entitled as fuck.” You open your mouth, desperate to wail ‘no, i can be good! I promise!’, but he interrupts you first. 

“First it was the disrespect, and now this.” He shakes his head, his hands falling to something behind you. “You need to start taking me more seriously.” 

You don’t know how to tell him you do respect him, you already take the dangerous man seriously. You want to vouch for yourself, beg for him to see how good of a wife you were. Good and quiet, you can do that. But once you see what he’s retrieved in his hand, you’re shut silent. 

“See, baby, my job is very dangerous.” He moves the loaded gun, nudging your knees open with it. You see it all in slow motion as he moves towards your center. “More than I think you understand.” You choke back a gasp as you feel the barrel brush against your folds, afraid to take a breath. 

“Because I’d do anything to protect you. Because I love you,” he’s leaning in, his voice hushed with a hard edge as he brushes his lips against your ear. “But you can’t even appreciate that.” Your breath is shaky as he moves your head to look at him. “Can you?” You can’t focus on his words, too busy fearing for your life as the cold metal is pressed against you. You feel your entrance clenching tightly, preparing for the penetration. But it never comes. 

You nod, answering his question. “I respect you, Yoongi. I’m sorry.” You hold on to those words like a lifeline, hoping they’re the right ones. Several moments pass as Yoongi lets you marinate in the tense moment, unsure of where your fate lies. But he gives you a small nod of affirmation, disengaging the gun and throwing it to the side. You let out a big sigh of relief, dizzy with anticipation. 

Yoongi rolls his sleeves up, evidently not done with teaching you a lesson. “Who am I, baby?” His use of a pet name is laced with irony as he roughly tugged you closer by your legs. The jingle of his belt and zipper filled the room as Yoongi dropped his pants, wrapping your legs around his waist, his endgame evident. 

“My don,” you whisper, eyes avoiding his, and instead glued to the intimidating girth he’d just pulled out. His ringed hand wraps around it, pumping himself a few times, clearly satisfied with your answer. He is your don first. 

He nudges your entrance, “And what else am I?” 

You don’t have the chance to respond as he pushes in, crying out with the stretch of his cock. The rings are one thing—a new sensation. But nothing can top the feeling of Yoogi’s dick breaking you in two. 

His hand wraps around your face, pushing your mouth open with two fingers as he repeats himself. “What am I, sweetheart?”

“Daddy!” You cry, shaking as he impales you. He leans in close as he bottoms out, licking a stripe up your chin to find your mouth. He spits a glob of saliva into your open and awaiting hole, relishing in the way you swallow it down immediately, sticking your tongue out to show him it was all gone. 

“That’s right, I’m daddy.” He growls, picking up the pace. He holds you steady as he wreaks havoc on your battered cunt, making you take it. “I’m your family man. I’m daddy. Don’t forget it.” 

You give a weak nod, the best you can do in your state. Your hole is trying to adjust to the feeling of his cock after the cold sensations it was previously exposed to. But the way he ruthlessly moves his hips, slapping into you with each thrust, makes it more difficult. The power imbalance was clear, seeping in from your life. 

“Gonna fuck a baby into you,” he pants, driving his hips into yours, penetrating deeply. “It’s all you’re good for.” The way you tightly clench around him is outside of your control, and so is the moan you let out. There’s nothing more you want in life than to carry his children. 

“P-Please, daddy.” You beg, grasping at his shirt, hoping your need comes across. He reads your desperation like a book, feels how you pull him closer with your legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Yeah? Wanna carry my kids?” He quickens his pace and you know he’s close. What you don’t know is that he’s been edging himself the entire time, waiting for the moment he’d be able to empty his balls into your cunt. “Want me to fuck you stupid and get you pregnant again?” 

“Please, please,” you chant, dying to feel his seed fill you up. “I want your babies, Don Min. Please.” 

“Fuck, you’re a perfect little whore.” He kisses you roughly as he nears his end, rutting into you inhumanly as he builds himself up to his climax. It’s all tongue and teeth, your body jostling, as he claims your mouth as his. He stakes his claim in your pussy next, filling your womb to the brim with his cum as he reaches his peak. He lets out an animalistic grunt as he empties himself, lazily rutting and working himself through it. 

His head is thrown back and he looks like a god, damp hair sticking to his forehead, eyes shut, mouth open. The light behind him gives him a halo, topping the picturesque moment that you’d store away in your brain forever. 

He pulls himself out after riding his peak, pushing his hair back and pulling his pants up promptly, re-buckling his belt. He turns around, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting it, letting out a puff to the side, giving you a view of his side profile. He tucks the cigarettes back in his pocket, and without a second glance back, strides towards the door, walks out, and lets it close behind him. 

Left sitting on the table, his cum leaking out of you, you see the ruthless Don clearly now.

You now know that the newsboy had died by his hand.

— let me know what you think!

Copyright © 2022, yoon2k| tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc