#I really truly believe that the people complaining are younger folks who haven’t been to shows or people who have only been to arena shows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

know your worth | myg | m

pairing: min yoongi x oc (ft. maknae line and an unsuspecting joon)

genre: fluff, SMUT

warnings: jealous yoongi, smut, penetrative sex, fingering, dom!yoongi

words: 9, 610

summary: happy birthday yoongi

"You could always offer something else," Jimin whispers conspiratorially.

You raise an eyebrow, chopsticks stopping halfway as you reach for your vegetables, piqued by Jimin's suggestion.

"And that is ...?" You pry.

Jimin shrugs his shoulders, a slight smirk on his lips as his eyes narrow at you when he leans forward with a suggestive look on your face.

You still looked as clueless as ever, and Jimin wants to pat your head and tell you that you were far too pure for this world because ... well, a lot of things flew past you. Even after you and Yoongi crossed the lines of more than just trainer and trainee, you were still the sharp yet sweet girl that lived life simply.

"What else can a man and a woman do together?" He hints at you, voice still low.

Your brows furrow when you shove another bite into your mouth and chew, pondering his question before you decide that you weren't sure.

"You know going on dates is difficult here," You sigh, "The council is always popping by for inspections and you know how Yoongi gets when his superiors are here."

Jimin snorts, stealing a bao from your plate.

"Yoongi has a sword up his ass half the time. You need to loosen him up—if you catch my drift." He winks.

You huff, folding your arms across your chest, wondering why on earth was Jimin speaking in riddles around you as if you weren't close enough to discuss any matter. You always thought of Jimin as a brother to you, even if you were older than him—he often pampered you and took care of you on days where your body was weary.

"Will you just tell me what you mean? Enough of this talking in circles." You frown.

He pats your head and you want to bite his arm off like an animal, but that would probably just get him to tell on you to Yoongi. Even if your relationship had escalated, Yoongi is Yoongi. Stern, professional and truly—uptight.

"Oh dear _____," He sighs, leaning his cheek against his palm as he stares at you, "Have you not had any experience with men before you arrived at the temple?"

You glare at him when he snickers at your abashed expression, cheeks reddening at his bluntness.

"I-I never had the time. And men weren't interesting from where I was," You mumble.

"More like you have a type," He points out.

You scoff and take the last bite of your meal before pushing the plate forward, more curious about Jimin's observation for the day.

"I don't. I like people based on atmosphere,"

Jimin scoffs like he doesn't believe you, and as if he knew how to read you better than yourself. But Jimin had always been very observant and he would say that he was right on people-reading ninety percent of the time.

"You, my friend, like being bossed around. You like men who are mean to you." Jimin snickers like a child as you gape at him, appalled at his suggestion, "Men back in town were far too polite. You like the assertive man who knows how to put you in your place."

You burn brightly when he laughs harder at your mortified face.

"I-I do not!" You vehemently deny, but the stutter in your voice only causes Jimin to sigh tauntingly.

"_____, Min Yoongi is mean as mean can get—don't get me wrong—he's a fundamentally good person but that man has no idea how to be nice to people. It's like his default method of social interaction is to insult people or scare people off with his face" Jimin says pointedly, "And you are one of the sadistic folks that like that."

You pout, sulking as you lean into your seat.

"He's nice to me ..." You mumble.

Jimin gives you a knowing look.

"Occasionally. But you like it when he's a little mean, don't you _____?" He smiles devilishly.

"Who's mean?" Jungkook slides into the seat next to you, whining at the both of you when he sees that you've eaten without him.

"Yoongi," Taehyung answers even if he's just joined the conversation.

"Oh. Totally. Did I tell you guys he told me I looked like wore the same underwear for a week?" Jungkook nods.

You look at your friends blandly, then shoot Jimin a glare as if to tell him he's started all of this.

"Jungkook. You do wear the same underwear for a week ..." Taehyung adds dryly.

You wince at the new set of information as Jungkook just shrugs nonchalantly as if he hadn't just exposed himself into being the poster-child of a boy.

"Why are we even talking about whether or not my boyfriend is mean or not?" You snap.

Taehyung's brows shoot up to his hairline as he shoots you a teasing smirk.

"Oh, are we on the boyfriend-girlfriend stage now?"

You hate the fact that you turn red at any moment where they opt to tease you, but the reminder just makes your heart flutter every time you think of Yoongi.

"Not really—I mean ... you know Yoongi," You parrot for the millionth time, "He doesn't really—he doesn't do things like that."

Jimin purses his lips.

"Aish. This hyung is really emotionally constipated."

Taehyung and Jungkook nod in agreement but all you do is brood further.

After the night that you and Yoongi took things ... further ... he never really explicitly said anything about where the two of you stood. In fact, you didn't expect him to either. Yoongi was a take-no-shits kind of person and he didn't fall into the trap of mediocrity. The way he expressed his affection was far different from the average individual and you saw that.

You knew that him holding you close that night to say that he believed in you was his way of showing you that he wanted you.

The secret and desperate kisses that you share from time to time when people weren't looking was also another method of his to show you that he was in this.

But sometimes you needed a little reassurance.

"_____, you need to be a little more proactive, which—" He looks up as if he remembered something, "—brings us back to the beginning of our conversation. You need to have sex with him."

Your eyes bulge out of your sockets as you begin choking on your own spit at the explicitness of his words. Even Taehyung and Jungkook are caught off-guard but Jimin simply looks like he's asked you about the weather forecast.

"How did you even come to that conclusion?!" You cry.

"Don't look at me like that! You said it yourself it was hard to go on dates here. Just fuck him in your private chambers and have him claim you with your magical pus—"

"I will literally slaughter you if you finish that sentence," You warn Jimin.

He puts his hands up in defense as he shrugs his shoulders.

"I mean, he's not wrong ..." Taehyung adds in.

"Of course you'd say that! The two of you are half a brain cell combined." You complain.

When you look over to Jungkook, the tips of his ears are red and you're as mortified as he is, but you've always known Jungkook to be a little shier than his hyungs.

"I mean you've kissed and stuff right? Over the clothes action?" Jimin gestures to his crotch area when he speaks of the activities that you and Yoongi have engaged in as you cover your face with your hands.

"Oh my God! How is that any of your business?" You shriek.

"You're complaining to me about the fact that you don't know what to get Yoongi for his birthday! The moment you came to me for advice is when this became my business!" Jimin retorts back, as loud as you were.

You were sure some of the maids were eyeing your bunch oddly but didn't pay too much mind because the four of you were the rambunctious types. Debatably, you only got dragged into their antics because you carried more authority in the temple than they did, and they came to you for help causing mischief.

"So, have you?" Taehyung pries for his friend.

You look away with flushed cheeks.

"We've kissed and stuff. He's like ..." You shudder, remembering his hands on you, "... maybe some light petting? I guess? That's it."

The fact that you've admitted that to your friends just makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

"Wow. You really are a saint," Jungkook whistles and you feel a little betrayed that he's beginning to take Jimin and Taehyung's side.

"Shut up. It's not like you're any different," You snap, feeling your face get hotter when the men just snicker, “Besides … it’s not like I haven’t … tried … it’s just that I think Yoongi has this idea in his head that I need petals and roses and candles for my first time.”

You clamp your mouth shut in embarrassment, mortified that you’ve revealed too much. But your friends just blink at you, unmoved.

“Have you ever just … asked him? Or told him what you’re into?” Taehyung asks slowly.

You sigh deeply, “It’s not that easy … I have tried but he’s just so—gentle.”

Jungkook snickers and Taehyung thwarts him over his head as you glare at him.

“What? Do you want him to be rough or …?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

You blush as you cover your face with your hands.

“Why are we talking about this.” You whine.

Taehyung scoffs, “Look. What better way to have this conversation if not with men themselves?”

You pin him with an unimpressed look before exhaling.

“It’s just … awkward …” You mumble.

“Noona, we’re not going to judge you for being a virgin. We were all virgins at one point.” Jungkook says.

Your eyes widen as you gape at him.

“You—?”

"Oh Noona," Jungkook pats your head, "I'm not as innocent as you think I am."

His hyungs snicker as you tilt your head in confusion, but decide to ask him about it to preserve the image of your friend in your head to be one of his purity. The three of them were handsome, and if you were any younger and if you lacked coherence, you would probably find yourself swooning over them as some of the temple ladies have as well.

"Look, _____," Jimin says, "It's not like Yoongi is gonna hate you if you be a little more forward. Trust me. He's just too conservative to actually do anything on his own. He probably wants to blow your back out."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Blow my back out ...?"

Taehyung snorts.

"Did you forget that _____ has been cooped up in this temple for months?"

Jimin opens his mouth to say ah as if he remembered that he had more freedom compared to you in returning to town to meet with the townsfolk, occasionally learning new slang with every visit.

"Doesn't matter—but—Yoongi is into you. I know hyung well enough to see his resolve slowly crumbling. All you need to do is take the first step. What better birthday present than the classical birthday sex?" Jimin shrugs.

You bite your lips as you mull over his words, considering his proposition even though you were terrified of embarrassing yourself in front of Yoongi.

"H-How do I do that?" You ask meekly.

Jimin smirks, and you can see the devil horns appear on the sides of his head.

"Yoongi looks calm and composed but ... there's always been a flaw of his that he doesn't show often," He giggles under a low breath, earning nods from both Taehyung and Jungkook.

"And that is?" You ask slowly.

“Envy.”

“So you want me to manipulate him into having sex with me by making him jealous …” You deadpan.

Jimin snorts.

“God, why do you word it like that? It’s not manipulation if Yoongi wants to do it regardless of the context. All he needs is a little push and you’ll have him destroying your uterus.”

You burn harder and hit Jimin’s arm so hard that he whines and clutches his arm, shooting you a vehement glare before Taehyung steps in with a grin.

“And we’ve got just the plan.”

"This is dumb. He won't react. He knows that you're like my little brother," You frown at Jungkook, as the two other men only rolled their eyes at your doubt.

"He will. It isn't rare knowledge to know that Jungkook had the fattest crush on you when you first came." Taehyung exposes his younger friend who's eyes only widen as you gape at him, information being unveiled to you.

"You did?" You ask in disbelief.

"Look. It lasted like—a day." Jungkook hastily defends himself, glaring at Taehyung.

Jimin shrugs his shoulders as he looks over yours to keep an eye out for Yoongi.

"Try a month, kid." Jimin snorts, "He used to drop tiger lilies by your door every night."

You gape at him in realisation.

"So that's where they came from ..."

Jungkook huffs, ears turning red as he quickly attempts to deflect the attention away from him.

"Okay, the point is: Yoongi knew too, which is why he wouldn't take so kindly to see his girl with Jungkookie," Taehyung reminds you.

You sigh.

"Not his girl ..." You mutter.

"Yada, yada," Jimin mocks, "I know you're your own person and stuff but like ... theoretically speaking, you aren't his girl ... yet."

You purse your lips, about to retort until Jimin shoves you and Jungkook aside, causing you to stumble into his chest with an oof as he catches you by the waist.

"Dude—!"

"Hyung. There you are!" Taehyung calls out cheerily, as Jungkook keeps his hold on you, blinking down at your confused face.

Only when do you turn your head do you see Yoongi walking over to the four of you, robes flowing behind him as he walks.

No matter how many times you're greeted with Yoongi's presence, it's like he takes your breath away every single time. His black hair is tousled across his forehead, with the occasional wind blowing strands of hair away. The deep-navy satin of his robe looks elegant, and you know that it's a precious fabric that comes with his experience.

His sword is tucked away in his belt as per usual as he nods his head to greet your friends, then his gaze is set on you.

More specifically, the way Jungkook is holding you by the waist.

"Careful." Is all he says.

You know it comes from a good place, Yoongi opting to be kind in his own way. That night with his sweet words was a unique experience for you both, and you still hear words of encouragement from time to time, but Yoongi was unalterably himself in a way that he knew how to make you feel wanted with more than just the number of words he says.

"Yeah," You say breathlessly, thanking Jungkook as you tug away from him.

You see Taehyung behind Yoongi, gesturing for you to grab Jungkook's arm to link it around yours.

"Thank you Kookie," You hum, albeit a little awkward, but enough to have Yoongi raising his eyebrow when you pat his head and caress his cheek.

"... I see you're enjoying your break," Yoongi acknowledges all of you instead of your tiny action towards Jungkook and you scrunch your eyebrows at the lack of care.

Jimin doesn't look too bothered, but instead, he uses his mischievous mind to plant another seed into Yoongi's.

"It's been good, hyung," He smiles but you see the mirth behind it, "Jungkook's been teaching ______ calligraphy."

Your eyes widen when Yoongi looks over at you, eyes momentarily darting to the way you're still clutching at Jungkook's robes.

“Um. Yeah," You choke awkwardly and Taehyung nearly facepalms himself at how bad you were at this.

"Jungkook's really good. I'm glad he's the one teaching me," You smile softly at Jungkook.

He returns your smile with a grin of his own, enjoying the way you're cuddled up against his arm. Even if this was all a show, he still had a soft lingering spot for you.

"Anything for my Noona, right?"

You're caught off-guard, and the blush on your cheeks is a genuine reaction when he smiles cheekily at you.

You roll your eyes at shove at his shoulder, but instead, he takes an opportunity to wrap an arm around your shoulder to tug your shoulder.

"She's a natural, hyung. Didn't even need much help," He taunts Yoongi.

Yoongi's face is still as impassive as ever as if he were speaking to his colleagues on town matters rather than his friends and unofficial 'girlfriend'.

"That's ... nice," He hums, eyeing you over once again.

He was never fond of too much affection in front of your friends, to the point where the dynamic between the five of you still remained pretty much the same before the night happened. The only difference was the knowledge of your feelings for Yoongi, and his apparent ones to you.

"By the way, Noona ..." Jungkook says, causing all your heads to turn to him.

You tilt your head, wondering what he wanted to say.

"These are for you." He smiles cheekily, handing over something from behind his back that you didn't catch earlier.

"Oh?" You receive the gift, and the flowers sit prettily in your grasp as Jungkook smiles down at you, looking more like a man by the second.

Where did he even get these?

"Remember the tiger lilies?" He teases.

You scoff but blush anyways, thanking Jungkook as you sniff at them, sighing at the pleasant fragrance.

"Looks like his crush is back ..." Taehyung mutters, and you know he's baiting Yoongi.

Yoongi simply purses his lips and rakes his eye across Jungkook before nodding curtly, bowing his head to excuse himself.

"Very well, then. Enjoy the rest of the day." Is all he leaves you with before he stalks off in the other direction.

You gape, displeased with the fact that Yoongi had shown little to no reaction to Jungkook's obvious flirting with you.

You sigh dejectedly, plopping to sit on the stoned floor, cradling your chin in your hands.

"It didn't work," You mutter, feeling all the more childish.

Taehyung snorts, patting your head as he sits next to you.

"Oh trust me, it worked. That was Yoongi mad,"

Jimin and Jungkook nod in agreement, and you're slightly baffled to see even Jungkook agreeing with him.

"What? He barely moved an inch. That's how he's always been." You tell them.

Jimin rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"I'm pretty sure he was thinking of a million different ways to detach Jungkook's limbs from his body so he'd never be able to lay a hand on you ever again," Jimin says out loud.

Even Jungkook flushes, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry about the flowers, ______," He mutters, "I thought it would do the trick."

You smile softly at him as you pat his head.

"It's okay Jungkook. I needed some life in my room anyways,"

Jungkook sees what Yoongi sees in you.

"Well that was phase one so ..." Jimin clasps his hands together as you raise an eyebrow.

"There's more ...?"

Taehyung snorts, "Of course there's more. Consistency is key _______."

You sigh, pushing yourself up as you head towards the ladies.

"You guys continue scheming, but I need to head to the bathroom,"

"Freshen up for your night with him, will you?" Taehyung calls over, and you flip him off with your finger.

The three men have surrendered themselves to work, apologising that they couldn't help you carry out your plan of making Yoongi jealous.

You laughed it off, waving them goodbye when they pouted at you. You weren't upset, realising that it was childish for you to do so in the first place.

You're sitting by the pavilion, admiring the fresh bloom of flowers as Spring nears when you hear a swoosh of feet by your ears as you turn your head to be greeted with—

"Hi, I'm sorry to disturb but I was just wandering around the grounds," You bow your head at the greeting of the stranger, a man who wears a robe similar to Yoongi as you stand up, offering him a small smile.

"Hello! And you are ...?" You trail off, awaiting his introduction.

He smiles bashfully at you as he scratches the back of his neck.

"Ah, my apologies. My name is Namjoon. I'm one of the new trainers here?" He finishes up with a question as your eyes widen.

"Oh! You're Kim-ssi?"

You've heard Yoongi mention to you once or twice that he would be needing an assistant with the influx of swordsmen coming to this particular temple to be trained, especially since his priority was training you—he needed the extra help.

Namjoon, or Kim-ssi, was extremely tall. He basically towered over you, and you think he's even taller than Taehyung. He's all limbs and stature, but you can tell that he's strong—his physique only further proving that he was fit to be a trainer, to be hired under the same roof as Yoongi.

He nods his head as he looks you over—in a way that was like he was admiring you, and not particularly distasteful.

“And may you be ______-ssi?” He asks slowly.

You nod your head at him and give him a kind smile.

“Yes, I am. I’m surprised you knew who I was.” You joke lightly.

Namjoon breaks into a dimpled grin before nodding his head, eager to continue the conversation.

“I’ve heard many things about you, especially your sword-wielding skills and the fact you are the first woman to be selected as the chosen one.” Namjoon informs you, “I must say that I was thoroughly impressed. I’ve seen your practices be replicated and it is highly complex.”

You bow your head in gratitude as you find your ears heating up at the praise.

“Thank you, Namjoon-ssi. That means a lot to me.”

“And you are much more beautiful in person, _______-ssi," He breathes.

Your eyes widen, hands falling limp as you bow your head in embarrassment at the sudden compliment.

Even though he practically towers over you, and is large in stature as well—he seems like a very genuine person, with pure intentions when he complimented you.

You also notice how handsome he is, dimples indenting his cheeks when he grins at you and eyes that scream comfort.

"O-Oh, thank you Namjoon-ssi," You mumble.

He offers you a genuine smile as you awkwardly fiddle with your thumbs, a lot more flustered with the sudden interaction.

"I was just exploring the grounds before I start tomorrow. Thought I familiarise myself first, right?" He chuckles a deep rumbling through his chest.

You look up at him brightly.

"The temple is truly beautiful. My favourite place is this pavilion," You gesture to the space you were in.

His head follows your hands as he takes in the place with his mouth open in awe.

"It is. Do you mind if I accompany you?" He asks.

You nod your head, patting the spot next to where you were sat previously.

"Of course—"

"_______-ssi."

A voice breaks you out of your interaction with Namjoon as you turn your head to spot Yoongi standing behind you, arms tucked behind his back as he levels a firm stare on both of your figures.

Namjoon reacts before you do, standing to his feet and bowing ninety-degrees to Yoongi, who only keeps his expression vacant.

"Min-nim, it's nice to see you here." He bows hastily.

Yoongi doesn't pay you any mind when he simply hums in acknowledgement at his greeting.

The oddly cold exterior doesn't slip past you as you raise an eyebrow at him, attempting to get his attention when you fold your arms across your chest.

"I see you've met ______-ssi," Yoongi says curtly.

The honorific and lack of familiarity in his voice doesn't slip past you as you narrow your eyes to him, wondering what he was playing at.

"I have. She was kind enough to allow me to accompany her by the pavilion." Namjoon smiles.

Yoongi clicks his tongue, taking a step towards you as he observes the view of the garden that lays within the pavilion.

"Kind indeed ..." Yoongi says.

You huff.

"She is truly as beautiful as the town folks have said," Namjoon admires shyly once again when he looks you over.

A blush reappears on your cheeks, and even under the dim lighting, Yoongi can see the tint on the apple of your cheeks.

His eyes harden when Namjoon looks at you with pure fondness.

"And so they have." Yoongi clips.

"Maybe even more ..." Namjoon adds shyly.

You smile, appreciating his generosity and honesty.

Yoongi, on the other hand, only hardens his jaw when he sees the way Namjoon's eyes basically twinkle when you shoot a stunning smile at him, probably captivated by your beauty that was far more than just your appearance—but your reputation.

"Thank you Namjoon-ssi," You bow, hair falling by your face.

Namjoon notices, and as the gentlemen, he is—he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear.

But Yoongi's hand reaches out to stop him before he can reach you.

Namjoon's eyes widen at the sudden grip on his wrist, glancing over at Yoongi who still has an expression of nothingness on his face. Even you're shocked at Yoongi's blatant act of prevention.

"I believe that the council would like to meet you, Namjoon-ssi."

Yoongi sounds oddly collected for a man who has a tight grip on Namjoon's wrist. Namjoon looks between the two of you, and it was as if the atmosphere breezed past him, he knew exactly why Yoongi acted the way he did.

"O-Of course Min-nim." He quickly bows, bidding farewell before he scurries off—unable to meet your eyes when Yoongi presses his stare until his figure disappears.

You glare at Yoongi with your arms folded across your chest.

"Why did you scare him like that?" You scold.

Yoongi doesn't say anything but keeps his gaze focused on the garden.

"I did no such thing."

You scoff, stomping towards him until you're right by his side, willing him to look at you.

"Namjoon was being nice," You huff petulantly.

Yoongi simply side-eyes you for a brief second before he brings his sword to his front.

"Was Jungkook being nice too?"

So he noticed?

Your eyes widen when he casually brings up the younger boy as you splutter for a response.

"What? Of course! Jungkook's always been nice to me." You frown.

Yoongi hums, still uncharacteristically quiet for when the two of you were alone. Especially after the shift in your relationship.

"He has a crush on you," He deadpans, eyes focused on you now.

You roll your eyes.

"Had, Yoongi. He has a kind heart," You reason with him.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at your statement.

"So you knew about his crush, then? The tiger lilies?" He pries.

You furrow your eyebrows at his questions.

"Yeah?" You say, confused, "I thought it was really sweet."

He tongues the inside of his cheek the way you found unreasonably attractive as you attempt to focus on the conversation rather than what Yoongi was making you feel.

"Sweet. Huh."

You sigh, pulling at Yoongi's robe so he'd properly look at you, even if you were inches shorter than he was.

You're about to speak, but Yoongi interrupts you.

"What about Namjoon?" He prompts.

You blink at him.

"... what about him?" You furrow your brows.

Yoongi has the ability to master his stoic expression given any context, and it's slightly unnerving how hard it is to read what exactly he's getting at when there isn't an inch of emotion on his pale face.

"Is he sweet?"

You snort.

"You've met him, right?" You joke, "He called me beautiful from the moment we met."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

"And how did that make you feel?"

You tilt your head to the side when you see Yoongi's eyes harden a little. But you allude it to the dark of the night approaches.

"Flattered? I mean—he isn't too bad on the eyes either." You tease, only meaning it to be a light quip.

But then Yoongi tugs you into his chest, hand wrapping tightly around your waist as he uses his other hand to tilt your chin up to look at him.

Your eyes widen as you place your hands on Yoongi's chest, attempting to place some distance at the sudden proximity.

"Do you want him to be your trainer then?" He asks, voice low.

Your breath hitches when his finger twirls the stray hand of hair from your face, fingers then proceeding to trail down your jaw as you attempt to think of an answer.

"I-I ... I mean if he must."

Yoongi's grip on your waist tightens.

"It's a yes or a no, _______." His tone warning when he leans closer to your face.

"Y-Yoongi ... people can see." You chuckle nervously, hands resting on his chest but making no real effort to push him away.

He ignores you and squeezes your chin between his thumb and index finger.

"Hm. So you're okay with Jungkook's hand on your waist as you coo at him while the maids walk past but not me just checking on my apprentice?"

You glare at him while his grip remains tight on your chin.

"Oh, I guess I'm back to just an apprentice, huh? That's better than ______-ssi," You say, indignation laced in your voice.

He doesn't respond, but you see his eyes trail over your face as if taking in the slope of your nose, the pores on your skin and the way your eyelash flutters with every blink of your eyes.

“So is that a yes or no, ______."

You sigh.

"Of course not," You frown, "I ... I like you training me."

He purses his lips, nose brushing against yours as you're as captivated by him as he seemed to be with you.

"You're such a silly girl." He sighs.

You gape at him when he releases your chin, turning his back to you.

You tug on his robe, attempting to get his attention as you wriggle against his back.

"What—why?" You cry.

His back is warm against you when you lean your chin against his shoulder blades.

"You don't see it, don't you?" He hums.

You whine, pulling at his sleeves so at least he'd look at you when he spoke to you.

"Yoongi!" You huff.

He sighs, turning around, eyes still dark.

"The way those men look at you." He growls, demeanour suddenly shifting to a much more ... animalistic one.

Your eyes widen when he tugs your body to his again, pushing you up against the pillar by the pavilion.

"What—"

Your words are cut short when he nuzzles his nose into your neck, mouth biting at your skin that causes you to gasp, melting into his embrace.

"Do you know how tempting you are?" He snarls into your neck.

Your knees are weak as his hot breath fans against the nape of your neck that makes you hold onto his shoulders for support.

"I'm not ..." You weakly mumble, eyes blown out when you look down at Yoongi's black mop of hair in the space between your collarbones and your jaw.

He chuckles darkly.

"Namjoon looked absolutely taken with you. Like he wanted to make you his. Like he doesn't know that you train under me," He spits as if the idea disgusted him.

Your eyes soften, loosely wrapping your fingers around Yoongi's hair.

"But you—"

"Shut up." He snaps, tugging at the ribbon that keeps your robe and bottom half modest.

Your eyes widen at where his hands swerve too but don't make any effort to stop him.

"Even Jungkook," He hisses, hand rubbing tight circles against your thigh.

This was the most forward Yoongi has been, both in public and in private and you're revelling in his touch. You don't dare to ask where this is going, but the way his hands drift upwards between your thighs tell you enough.

"That brat looked at you with stars in his eyes as if his hyung wasn't right there."

"Jungkook is—"

"Sweet. I heard you the first time, ______." He snaps back.

His hand is occupied between your thighs but never reaching far enough to satiate the head in your lower region.

You feel the fabric of your underwear turn uncomfortable, the wetness undoubtedly pooling between your thighs with the way Yoongi is treating you.

"It took everything in me to not rip his limbs off."

Jimin was right. You wanted to laugh, but there was nothing funny about the way Yoongi looks at you with carnal desire.

"I-I'm ..." You stutter, when he spreads your thighs, hooking his own thigh between your own so you'd have some form of support.

"What?" He snaps, noticing the way your hair is sprawled across your face. His hand sweeps it away, but his eyes are still stressed on your flushed cheeks.

You can't seem to get the words out, especially when Yoongi's looking at you like that, his strong thigh between your legs as the thin fabric of your pants left little to imagine of how he feels against your clit.

You gasp, when Yoongi grabs your hips to grind you against his thigh, the silky yet rough texture of his pants brushing up against your throbbing bud. You can feel your wetness seeping through your pants, and potentially staining his.

He smirks at your open mouth as you try to level out your gasps, your own hips acting at their own accord.

"Bet Namjoon and Jungkook would kill to see you like this." He boasts.

A hand reaches to your chin to snap your head firmly enough to look at him.

You whine when he squeezes your cheeks mockingly, tensing his thigh as he hisses—your wetness sopping through both fabrics.

"Noooo." You whine, voice turning into a moan.

"Exactly," He snarls, sucking a mark onto your neck so roughly that it causes you to push up against him.

"Only I get you like this, right? This is for my eyes only?" Yoongi spits, his hands busy with groping up and down your body, hand reaching to your slacks until he moves his thigh away, hands replacing them.

The moment his hand cups your mound, you gasp, feeling the way how his big hand covers it entirely.

"This pussy gets wet for only me, right?" He prompts you with a growl.

You nod your head, voice failing you, afraid of revealing your activities to the temple's maids that stayed at nearby quarters.

The feeling is foreign but definitely not unwelcome. Yoongi had a way of navigating his way with your body that made you fall limp in his arms, eager to wait for his next moves.

Yoongi's hand expertly slips inside the waistband of your pants as his knuckle presses against your clit directly, causing more wetness to pool out.

You hear his curse under your breath, and you're not far off when you clutch his hair as his head rests against your neck to continuously suckle marks as a symbol of his desire.

"I've barely done anything and you're this wet?" He taunts and you burn at the way he looks up at you after what seems like a long time, his lips curling into a smirk and eyes blown out with his primitive wants.

Your lips are swollen even though he's yet to connect his lips to your own, purely because you've been biting on them so hard as you await Yoongi's next moves.

You've heard fellow peers speak of their experiences with the temple's men, saying that if done correctly, fingers is all it took for them to wash over in pleasure.

The way Yoongi navigates his thumb between the fabric of your panties to the throb of your clit is done perfectly, and you almost turn sour to think of his past lovers that he's touched so intimately.

You're distracted when he presses down firmly on your clit, wetness lubricating his digits that cause delicious pleasure to bloom in your core.

"F-Fuck," You whimper.

He smirks as his other hand that was used to hold you up against the pillar, yanking your robe open to be greeted with your bra. You flush, feeling all the more exposed against the cool air as the tugs your cups down, mouth latching immediately onto your nipple.

"Y-Yoongi—ah—" You gasp when he focuses kitten licks to your nipple, while the rest of his other hand tugs your panties aside to glide his fingers along your slit.

The feeling is overwhelming, both as his hot mouth seems determined to leave bruises on your breasts, as well as his other hand teasingly prods your quivering hole that only seems to release endless streams of your honeyed essence.

"You're a sight to behold," He exhales, breath caught against your breast.

You can't respond because you're too captivated when you see his hand in your pants, firmly pressed against your core in suspense for more. Yoongi's eyes harden as he bites down on your breast, causing you to let out a cry far too loud for your liking.

Your eyes widen as you clamp your mouth shut, attempting to labour your breathing.

"Do you want to get caught, hm? Is that why you can't keep that mouth of yours shut?" He growls, mouth licking a stripe up your neck—to your chest until he's whispering the words against your mouth.

"F-Fingers, Yoongi," You mewl.

He envelopes your mouth with his, tongue immediately making a home in your mouth as you whine against his lips, sounds of pleasure getting swallowed by his tongue.

"Do you think you're in the position to be making demands?" He snaps, pulling away as you chase his mouth, whining when you miss the contact.

You whimper, shaking your head; absolutely loving the way Yoongi is treating you.

Jimin's words ring in your head momentarily, but you're interrupted yet again with the way Yoongi slips a finger in.

Your mouth opens in a gasp, finally feeling his long digit enter you.

You're wet enough that your pussy welcomes the intrusion with even more lubrication, and his finger becomes familiar with your heat as if you've done this a million times before.

"This okay?" He whispers softly against your cheek, snapping out of his persona for a moment to check on you.

You nod fondly, eyes soft as you respond with an equally soft yes.

With your consent, he's then knuckle-deep into your pussy, finger curling up, wiggling to find the spot that would—

"Fuck!" You squeal, unable to keep your voice down.

He smirks when he prods the pad of his finger against the spongey spot in you.

"There?" He huffs, slipping another finger in and expertly finding the same spot.

You rapidly nod your head, mewls of pleasure escaping past your lips when he begins to thrust his fingers in-and-out of your pussy, wetness squelching as the proof of your pleasure and desire.

"Y-You're in so d-deep—" You wail.

His palm is snapping against your clit, putting just enough pressure to make your eyes roll back into your head. Yoongi is absolutely ruthless when he pounds into your pussy, fingers hooking up deliciously to a spot that makes pleasure explode.

He shoves his fingers impossibly deeper, so deep until—

"Y-Yoongi!" He's at a place where you never knew existed, not that you experimented enough to know but deep enough for you to make a sound that you've never heard come out from you.

Even Yoongi's eyes widen, eyes hardening along with his cock against his pants. He's been hard the moment the night escalated, but he's sure he's going to use your face, the visual along with your moans as the star of all his masturbation sessions.

"P-P-Please!" You wail, "Stay there—oh my God Yoongi—you're so d-deep—fuck—you're so good—to m-me—"

For the first time, your hands reach out to clasp his hand right into the position that he's settled against your pleasurable spot, as your whimpers get louder and your legs shake next to your hands.

Yoongi is so fucking hard that it takes everything in him not to cum right then and there. So, he just looks out you, his own breathing laboured as he admires the way beads of sweat drop down the side of your head. Your cheeks are beyond flushed and eyes shut tight, as if you couldn't believe the pleasure you were feeling.

It's because you truly couldn't.

You've always wanted to take a step further with Yoongi, but too timid to ever do anything about it. But the way he's hooking his fingers up, pressed tightly against your spot makes you lose all rationale. You almost forget that you were out in public, the pavilion open enough for anyone to walk past and know exactly what's going on.

You're grinding yourself against the palm of his hand as you will yourself to take his fingers deeper.

The coil is unfamiliar but so so welcomed as you feel your hole clench erratically at how good he's making you feel.

Yoongi betrays you for a moment and goes against your words to stay still because your face is absolutely stunning under the moonlight, and all he wants is to see you unravel; quite literally in the palm of his hand.

He begins finger-fucking you with rapid snaps of his wrist with a vigour you only see in his sword-training sessions, and the calloused palm of the man who spent years wielding the sword is proven delirious against your pussy.

"You're gonna cum for me, aren't you? My pretty girl?"

The term of endearment falls from his lips and you think that's the first time he's called you anything but your name or alluded to the fact that you were his.

The thought itself is what sets you free from the coil in your stomach, pussy clenching tightly against his fingers as he rubs rough circles against your clit with his thumb to prolong your orgasm.

"F-Fuuuck," You drawl, becoming lose-lipped as you gasp for air, squelching still echoing as he fucks you through the orgasm, "Y-You're so—good to me ..." You mumble, coming down from your high.

You've stained your robes with sweat and your release, and you feel absolutely satiated when he pulls out of you.

You've never seen Yoongi look anything less than composed, so when he brings the fingers that were drenched with your arousal and cum to his mouth to suck on it, you already feel your pussy flutter back to life.

"You taste so fucking go—"

You cut him off by throwing yourself onto him, lips locking with his even as you taste yourself on his tongue.

You thought after an orgasm that you'd have enough, but there was something about Yoongi sucking your essence into your mouth without any hesitation that made you want to make him feel good too.

Your hand cups him through his slacks, groaning into his mouth when you feel how hard he feels against your palm—big under your small hand.

"_______ you don't—"

You bite his lip in retaliation, squeezing his cock in your hand and rubbing your thumb across his slit as you feel his pre-cum leak out of his tip.

"Fuck ..." He hisses when you lick into his mouth, unbothered at the fact that you taste yourself on your tongue.

Yoongi reaches his hand to the back of your neck to bring you closer, all while tugging your hips to meet his own.

"Wanna suck your cock," You pant.

Yoongi's unbelievably hard that he actually thinks his dick is going to fall off.

Seeing you with your salacious expression of pure, unadulterated lust shocks him all while pleasing him, knowing that he's able to evoke this type of effect on you.

While your mouth was collateral on its own, never missing a remark or to remind him that you were unafraid of his stereotypically terrifying persona—you were real. Soft and honest when your eyes allowed him to get a glimpse of the woman he's learned to ... the word so real and scary in his mind, but his heart speaks for him, while his actions paint the picture.

"_____ ..." He pulls away, biting his lip at your fucked out expression.

You whine, pressing your hips tighter against his while he hisses at the contact of your wet folds against the outline of his cock.

"Call me yours," You ask, wide eyes looking up at him.

Yoongi fingers stop at your hips when he looks at you—properly that is—your eyes begging him with the plead you've uttered. He likes you like this. Hot for him, a little desperate.

"Hm?" He feigns disinterest as you whine at him, clutching at his robes.

"P-Please Yoongi—just wanna be yours," You whimper.

"Do you ______? What about Namjoon? Jungkook?" He taunts, eyes locked on yours.

You shake your head vigorously.

"N-No! Y-Yours, Yoongi."

And his, you were.

He leans in to kiss you, much gentler than previously but still full of desire—a mark against the flesh to claim yours as his.

"My pretty girl?" He questions and you whine so loudly that his eyes blow out in shock.

"Yours—I'm yours, Yoongi."

He growls, hooking your leg around his waist as he grinds against your centre; causing you to mewl in pleasure at the friction.

"You can have my cock in your mouth another time, okay?" He whispers against your cheek and your pussy clenches at the prospect of another time.

You nod your head, looking up at him with obedient eyes.

"Wanna fuck you so bad ..." He caresses your cheek as your eyes widen, a grin teasing your lips.

"P-Please," You pant.

"But you deserve a proper first time, hm?"

You weren't one for social constructs and you didn't care where Yoongi first had you, even as your first—all you wanted was him and you'd have him anywhere, anytime he'd have you.

“Fuck I don’t care—just—fuck me—p-please …“ You whisper.

He observes your features for any sign of hesitation but finds none, only desire.

“You sure? Because once my cock comes home I’m never letting you go.” He whispers like it’s a threat but you’re only more turned on.

“T-This pussy—yours,” You gasp and Yoongi groans at your crude words, “I-I don’t care—just want you—only you.”

Yoongi feels the need to kiss you so he does. He kisses you hard and deep like he’s mapping every inch of your mouth while you whimper into his own. When he releases you, he feels his heart and stomach clench in desire.

The moment Yoongi brings his cock out as your eyes follow his line of vision, you feel like you could cum just by the visual alone.

He's huge.

It's as if his overwhelming aura was every aspect of him, from his stature to his walk and to his cock. The tip was leaking with pre-cum, an ooze that makes your mouth water and pussy clench for more. You've never seen a penis up close—but it's rough and delicate, but like Yoongi—and you decide you need him—soon.

"Fuck me—p-please,” You beg, breath hitching.

He aligns the tip of his cockhead against your quivering hole, and you release more wetness just at the thought of him fucking you out here—where your moans accompany the moonlight and his heavy breathing.

"Relax for me." He hums, pushing in ever so slowly.

The tip is the largest part of his cock, but you push through as you welcome the stretch. You didn't fight with swords day and night just to tap out now, not when Yoongi looks at you like you're the only thing that matters.

With every inch that he enters you, you feel yourself feeling fuller and fuller.

If his fingers felt overwhelming, his cock was the greatest gift bestowed upon you. You felt like you were on cloud nine, especially when he bottoms out, hips flushed against yours as he pushes the remainder of his length in.

"You see that?" He grips your chin so you'd look at him, "Look at how your pussy sucks up my cock."

You wail, hitching your hips up to chase friction and you whine when you feel his cock nudge every corner of your wet heat.

He hisses, other hand tightening against your hip as a warning.

"M-Move—please," You're extra polite because all you want to do is fall apart on his cock.

Yoongi doesn't drag it out any further when he pulls out just so the tip remains, and slams into you with a brutal force that quite literally knocks the wind out of you.

He's rough with his thrusts, never faltering when he hikes your leg higher up his waist so he'd be able to angle his cock against the spot that makes your heart accelerate, and legs shake.

He shows the stamina he's developed over the years as a sword-master with the way he's locking his hips with precision and keeping his eyes on yours the entire time—observing every scrunch of your face along with the breathy gasps that escape your mouth.

At a particularly hard thrust that he stills for a moment, ensuring his cock is rubbing against that spot deliciously—you scream, back arching into his chest as he swallows your wails of pleasure with his mouth.

"What would people say if the noble _____ fucking herself on her sword-trainers cock like this? Hm?" Yoongi spits and when he points it out only do you realise you're moving your hips at a rapid pace, unaware of how they move in their own accord.

You can't keep your mouth shut nor can you respond because Yoongi is fucking you so good, and even with the brutal force of his hips he's able to hold you up with the strength of his arm. You feel the muscles of his bicep flex against you because he has his arm wrapped around your body so tightly, tits flushed against his chest.

You have the sudden urge to reach out to him and hold his head close, a contrast to the dirtiness of your actions.

Yoongi leans into your touch even as he fucks you to the brink of your release, his hips beginning to stutter as you look at him with dazed eyes.

"So pretty like this.” He grunts.

You feel a sense of pride to know that you're what it took to get Yoongi—the man who has everyone on their toes—like this. Feral, giving in to his animalistic desires as he reaches out for your warmth.

"M' gonna cum," You gasp when he pulls your hips down to meet his last thrust.

“Where do you want my cum, pretty?”

"A-Anywhere!" You choke on your breath when you feel your orgasm hit you all at once, your body falling limp in his embrace as his arms keep you up.

You feel Yoongi's cock twitch inside of you until he's releasing gushes of his hot cum into your walls. He cums so much that you feel him slowly slipping out of your heat as it trickles down your thighs.

The two of you attempt to catch your breath as he still keeps a firm grip on your body; knowing your knees would give out if he weren't there to help you. Your hand is still gentle on his cheek as you brush the matted hair away from his forehead, offering him a dopey smile.

Yoongi leans into you, capturing your lips into a soft kiss, one that wasn't rushed nor expected to lead anywhere.

The two of you bask in each other's presence for a few more moments, until you realise that you're still very much in public with Yoongi's cum spilling out of you, a hair breadths away from staining the floor.

"Yoongi—your cum," You hiss.

Yoongi looks down and smirks, appreciating the view and only is disrupted when you thwack him on the head. He helps you pull up your undergarments, even as you wince through the discomfort as he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you on your feet.

“You seemed to like it a lot.”

Your ears burn as you glare at him, but it lacks any real anger when he chuckles at your reaction.

"I think the real conversation here is about your jealousy issues," You retort petulantly.

You see Yoongi's lips purse as he narrows his eyes at you.

"I don't like sharing what's mine."

Your heart stutters even though Yoongi doesn't look at you directly when he says so, his facade returning but you see his heart above anything else.

“Am I, Yoongi? You never asked." You shrug your shoulders.

He tongues the inside of his cheek, absorbing your words without responding for a few seconds as you wrap the robe tightly around your abdomen, cold air sending shivers down your spine.

"Would you ..." He clears his throat, and you don't think you've ever seen Yoongi look anything but assured. So, to see him with flushed ears and nervous eyes make your heart grow fonder.

"Would I ...?" You bite your lip, offering a teasing smile up at him.

He huffs, wrapping an arm around your waist as he brings your head to lay on his chest.

"Don't look at me like that," He snaps.

You giggle, clutching his robes when you feel and hear his heart beating against his chest.

"Why not?" You provoke him even further.

His grip around your waist is still tight as if he's afraid you'd slip away.

But who would tell Yoongi that you were always his?

"I don't want you to look at me when I ask," He tells you, fingers tapping your hips.

"Ask what Yoongi?"

You continue prompting him because you find it adorable how a man like him who has people quivering in fear and doesn't give most people the time of his day is so nervous on asking you a question with an obvious answer.

"Would you ... would you like that?" He coughs.

You raise an eyebrow as you look up at him, chin resting on his chest when your eyes fill with deviance.

"I like a lot of things Yoongi—you have to be more specific."

He still avoids your eyes and grunts, squeezing your hip when you continue to tease him.

"Would you want to ... bewithme?" He rushes his words.

Your eyes gleam when you lean forward, face close to his.

"Could you repeat that—?"

You yelp when he places his large hands on your cheeks, finally looking at you with earnest.

"I'm really bad at this so please don't do this to me.” He snaps.

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"I really like you, Yoongi."

You think this is the first time you've explicitly told him how you've felt for him, and you can tell he's shocked when the words leave your lips.

"I was yours since you told me you believed in me." You whisper, lips grazing against his.

He swallows as you smile softly at him.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before," He confesses, "You're the only person that I look forward to seeing and ... when I saw Jungkook and Namjoon."

He shuts his eyes as your lips twitch, a giggle bubbling in your throat.

"I really want you to be mine," He sighs.

You nod your head, pecking him on the nose as you nuzzle your head into his broad chest, feeling the way it moves up and down with every breath that he takes.

"Happy birthday to you then," You smile cheekily.

He fondly grazes your cheeks, holding you unbelievably closer.

"Happy birthday indeed." He sighs, and you can feel the smile on his face when he kisses your forehead.

extra scene

"Happy birthday hyung!" Jungkook greets Yoongi the moment he steps out of his chambers in a large hug.

Yoongi grunts at the force, as he notices Jimin and Taehyung following behind him with a bowl of seaweed soup in celebration.

"Thanks, kid," Yoongi mumbles.

"How're you spending your birthday?" Taehyung asks when he settles the bowl on the table in front of his room.

Yoongi bows his head slightly thank the younger man as he shrugs.

"Same old. I have a session with _____ later and I need to assign Kim-ssi to his students."

“Bo-ring. Why don’t you ever do anything fun?” Jimin scoffs, “What did _____ get you for your birthday?”

The older man stutters for a second when he recollects the night you shared out on the pavilion and more after the two of you returned to his chambers in tangled limbs.

“She wished me,” Yoongi says curtly.

Jimin tries to spot any sign of unsureness but Yoongi was a hard book to read.

"Speaking of, where is ______? Shouldn't she at least be celebrating—"

Speak of the devil and she shall be summoned.

"Yoongi where are your—"

You step out of Yoongi's chambers, draped with his luxurious robe, chest slightly exposed enough to see the marks Yoongi littered on your chest after he took you back to his private chambers.

You freeze when you see three pairs of wide eyes staring back at you as you yelp, tugging the robe shut across your chest as your cheeks redden.

The only thing you hear when Yoongi tugs you closer to him by your hand and greets you with a kiss is:

"Hope the gift was good, hyung!” Jungkook cheers.

"You're not off the hook yet, brat."

#bts imagines #bts fluff #bts smut #bts fics #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fluff #yoongi imagine #daechwita #swordsman!yoongi

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ohdeputy · 5 years

Text

100 Letters PART II

Arthur Morgan x John Marston

Words: 5,569

Read on Archive

Part I

To Arthur,

I hope this finds you. I hope you’re well. I must say I’m not very good at this writing letters thing, not like how you are. I honestly don’t know how you do it. God knows I would rather be the one receiving the letters you write instead. But I promised you I would, so I will.

- J

Arthur,

I realized I barely wrote anything last time. I apologize again for making you suffer through these. But hey, you asked for it. It’s barely been a month and I am already longing to return. It’s hard being by myself, I haven’t been on my own in a long time. It’s hard not having you around. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I miss you. I hope you feel the same, or maybe I don’t. It’s not a terribly nice feeling.

- J

Arthur,

I must admit, it’s hard to send these letters without getting any in return. I wish you could write me back. I wish I could tell you where I am, and what I’ve been doing. It’s not exciting or anything but I just don’t know what to write to you. I would love to hear how you’ve been spending your days. Probably still getting up to no good I bet. Though, I hope you haven’t found a new partner in crime.

Do you remember that time we put poison ivy in Uncle’s sheets? I don’t know how you convinced me to go along with it. He never deserved what we put him through. And I don’t know what we were thinking, the man didn’t shut up about his damn ‘itchy crotch’ for days. As thick as mud he is, too, for never catching on. Even when you made it so obvious with your damn snickering. You are such a bad influence. Sure am missing those days like hell, though.

- J

Arthur,

It’s way hotter where I am, I think you’d like it here. Warm weather did always agree with you. I can’t complain too much, it’s a lot better than any harsh winter from up north. The only thing that makes me want to come back to any colder weather is you.

How is everyone? I know you can respond, but I think of them too. It’s just strange not having people around, I suppose. I hope you haven’t died from Pearson’s cooking. How is Nico? I miss her a lot too, you two are the only people I have ever really considered as friends. You better not be bothering her with any of your silly ideas. She’ll kill you if you’re not careful, and I’d rather not return to clean up that mess.

Nevertheless, I can’t wait to come back and see you both again.

Thinking of you often.

- J

Arthur,

I can’t tell if the nights are getting better or worse. It feels like it’s been so much longer than it has been. Sometimes when I can’t sleep I imagine you can’t either. And that when I look up to the stars you’re seeing them too. Then I feel like you aren’t as far away anymore.

Counting the days,

- J

Arthur,

I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I like your eyes. They’re probably the prettiest type of blue I’ve ever seen, but they’re also the kindest. I remember the first day I met you so clearly. You were the only person to look past me as some scrawny, worthless kid or an opportunity because I was decent at pickpocketing folk. You saw me as a friend, and when you held out your hand to introduce yourself I didn’t expect you to change my life like you did.

John set his pen down, contemplating on where the letter he currently wrote was going. Writing to Arthur had become easy, almost like he was having a conversation with him. Perhaps John had become too comfortable. Bold in what he wrote to him because there were no instant repercussions to what he said in the letters.

He could say anything. The thought scared him a little.

John took his time to finish the letter, knowing it was the last letter he would send before returning home. A new sense of alleviation consumed him, excited at the prospect of going home finally being a reality. He could not help the slight eagerness to hear Arthur’s thoughts on the letters he wrote to him each day.

The feeling continued after he packed the few belongings he had and said his goodbyes to the people he came to be acquainted with over the past year. John could hardly believe it had been so long. A part of him was strangely sorry to leave behind the routine he’d grown so accustomed to. Working at the Blackwater stables had been an easy way of life. The people, though poor, were generous and not unkind to him. He was a little sad to part ways.

Saddled up and ready to go, he waved his goodbyes to the sable workers and hit the road by high noon. Gradually, the desert terrain turned greener and the breeze cooler. The flat and endless landscape grew more mountainous as he made his way further northwest.

Stopping for only two nights, John was restless to get back. He knew the gang to have travelled more west since he was with them last. Not surprised when the camp he found them at wasn’t the same as the last time he was here, but when his eyes frantically scanned the site it was not to scope out their current home.

It wasn’t until he spotted what he was looking for when John breathed out, relief flooding through his body. Perhaps not exactly what, but who. Arthur was at the far end of camp, positioned leisurely against one of the tent’s structures. He was in conversation with Nico, cigarette in hand as he gestured while he spoke to her.

As if he felt John’s gaze on him, he looked up. When their eyes met, John smiled for the first time in what felt like ages. Arthur straightened up instantly, eyes wide like he was staring at a ghost. For a split second, John thought Arthur might run to him, but then he saw his shoulders fall. The corners of his mouth pulled ever so slightly downward and those eyes he had waited so long to see again dropped from his.

Without warning, John felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up to see Dutch. “Hello, son.” His tone was stern, though his expression was what gave John a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He stole a final glance at Arthur in time to see him take one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it aside in a way that John swore almost looked bitter. But before he could process anything he’d just witnessed, Dutch began steering him in the opposite direction.

Once the two were off to the side and out of earshot he turned to face Dutch again. There was an uneasiness in the air between them as Dutch stood with his hands on his hips, avoiding directly looking at John.

“It’s, um... good to see you Dutch. It’s good to be back.” John meant it. It had been so long since he saw any of them. Hosea… Arthur. Hell, even Uncle was a sight for sore eyes. A year apart from them had felt like ten. All John felt upon his return was a sense of utmost relief, every day since he left spent waiting for this exact moment.

But something was off. In the brief time he had been back, John could sense that something was wrong.

Dutch’s eyes did meet his then, “I’m glad you’re alright, John.” His lips were pressed in a thin line, like even the smallest ounce of affection towards the younger boy was hard for him.

John nodded, “I did what you asked. I found out everything I could about Blackwater.”

“That you did. But there is another matter we need to discuss, dear boy.” Dutch moved closer to John, his gaze hardening and unblinking as he looked at him from a furrowed brow.

The uneasiness John felt grew. This wasn’t how he expected to be welcomed back into the gang. He tried to push it away. Yet before Dutch said the words, John already knew what he was going to say.

“I found your letters.”

John tensed, the blood draining from his face and down his body. Fear seized him as his mind began to race. “I-I don’t-”

“Don’t take me for a fool boy!” Dutch gave a cautious glance around them after raising his voice. Giving a deep sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he finally looked up at John again, eyes cold.

“Now. I’m going to make myself very clear. And all you’re going to do is listen.”

John couldn’t move, he was scared that if he did Dutch might strike him, or worse. That Dutch might cast him out right then and there without another word. So he did as he was told.

“Not only were the contents of your letters… so wrong…” John flinched at the way he practically spat out the last word. Dutch shook his head in disapproval as he struggled to continue, “but also impetuous. You jeopardized the gang’s safety for not one or two but several childish notes?”

“But I swear I didn’t say nothing about what I was doing!” John made the mistake of trying to justify himself, instantly regretting it when Dutch’s features darkened further.

“Don’t you dare interrupt me, boy!” he hissed out. “I told you to listen to me!”

He paused for only a heartbeat, “Those letters were, quite frankly, heartbreaking to read. I wish you wouldn’t do this to me, son.” Dutch hung his head. He looked ashamed to even speak about it. “You disgust me, Marston.” His lips curling at the statement, John truly believing it as he said it.

“I have been patient,” Dutch continued. “I have put up with you and Arthur’s naive ignorance well beyond what was deserved. And for what? That you may take advantage of my tolerance? The sheer disrespect you have for your fellow family members and that you have shown me has disappointed me greatly, John.”

Dutch spoke the words with a frightening calmness, but John could tell he was furious by how his hands shook when gesturing. The vein in his temple protruding at the stress of the conversation. John rarely saw him this mad. He knew Dutch was not so fond of him yet never had this anger been directed toward anyone but their foes.

“Now, here is what is going to happen. My initial response was to see you leave and never return. But because of what you have done for me, for this family, I have reconsidered. Instead, I am allowing you to stay under the condition you act like you did not write a single one of those letters.” Dutch held a finger up to John to emphasize, “and you will deny ever having written him.”

He moved so close to John that he could feel the hotness of his breath against his face, “you will cease any vile actions or feelings you had towards that boy and we will never speak of this again. Because there won’t be a conversation next time.”

John swallowed dryly, not daring to move a muscle.

“Do you understand?”

John nodded frantically, blinking rapidly to push away the stinging he felt behind his eyes.

“Good,” with that Dutch turned to walk away, stopping to turn back a last time. “You should be grateful, boy. For my leniency towards your selfish actions.”

By the time John finally moved from his petrified state, the camp was settling in for their evening meal. The stew ready for consumption by the looks of the eager bustle of people lined up at the pot.

Mindlessly, John made his way through camp, wanting nothing but the solitude of his tent. He purposely avoided any eye contact, though as he walked the short distance, there were a few people who called out to him, sharing their relief at seeing him back. Hosea went out of his way to clap him on the back, shaking his shoulder. “It’s good to have you back, son. It hasn’t been the same without you.”

The smile he gave was so genuine that John felt he might break his composure at the sight. He only mumbled his thanks as he slipped out of the older man’s grasp and retreated to his tent. Once he was within the safety of the canvas walls, he moved to his bed.

It was dark inside, so when he moved to light a candle but bumped into someone instead he yelled out in surprise.

“Shit!”

When his eyes adjusted, he saw Nico standing before him with a bowl of stew in her hands. “Sorry, John. I didn’t mean to startle you.” After a second she put the bowl down on his side table. She studied his face, worry creasing her features. “You should eat something. You must be hungry.”

He blinked at her, heart still racing from her surprise visit. Then suddenly he threw his arms around her. John didn’t know if it was from being away from everyone for so long, or that this simple gesture of hers threw him over the edge. But he couldn’t help himself, trying to hold back crying as he did.

She hesitated for a moment before putting her arms around him. It wasn’t like either of them to do this sort of thing. It was awkward, but she didn’t pull away until John did. It lifted a little bit of the weight he felt since returning, thankful for Nico despite the turn of events that evening.

“We need to talk. But not in camp.” She spoke in a hushed tone.

John agreed by nodding his head and Nico gave his arm a squeeze before exiting. Once she was gone, he sat slumped over his stew, but he held no appetite. He stared into it dreadfully, finally putting it aside. He thought he might unpack his bag instead. Though he had little belongings on his travels, he needed some sort of distraction.

He didn’t want to think about what just transpired. Couldn’t for the fear of what might happen if he did. Eventually, he moved to his bed, waiting to be taken by sleep. It didn’t come easy, never having fluctuated between so many emotions at once. So he pushed all thoughts far from his mind, replaced by a numbness that gave him little comfort and eventually drifted off.

The days that followed were filled with John reciting everything he had discovered about the town of Blackwater to Dutch. This meant spending hours on end cooped up inside a tent with the man he wanted to spend the least amount of time with. It made him miserable.

He hadn’t seen Arthur since the night he returned. The older boy busy on some pursuit in town with Hosea and another man named Thomas Steels, whom they’d picked up during John’s absence. He didn’t see much of Nico either, though it wasn’t unlike her to constantly drift in and out around camp. Not like how Trelawney did, who only seemed to be around when it suited him best.

Nico had always been independent since the day she started running with the gang. John didn’t know much about her other than she was picked up similar to how he and Arthur were. She, too, was on her own at a young age. A thief by nature, nimble on her feet and scarily good with throwing knives. She was a suitable addition to the Van Der Linde gang.

The three of them being the youngest members, they became fast friends. And though she was quiet and spent much of her time alone, her loyalties never faltered as she always came back to them.

John liked her, and considered her a close friend, but it wasn’t anything like what he felt for Arthur. With Arthur things were different. They shared a bond John never thought was something he was capable of sharing with anyone. Like when he was around him the world was right. John wanted nothing more than to spend all his time with the other boy. Now when he thought about it all he was followed by a somberness at the prospect of things never returning to how they once were.

When Arthur, Hosea, and Steels finally arrived back a few days later, John couldn’t help the relief that came with seeing him again. It was early morning by the time they rode into camp, the day already humid as they were deep into summer. Arthur was next to Hosea, laughing at something he said. His eyes squeezed tight as he held a hand to his stomach. It was almost like how it was before his year away, John’s heart aching as he watched.

John had spent the last few nights restless, finally convincing himself that he needed to speak with Arthur. He was terrified, of course, but he made up his mind. So with their return, John wasted no time. Afraid that he might change his mind if he waited too long.

He continued to watch Arthur as he dismounted his horse and made haste to the edge of camp where the coffee was freshly brewed each morning. John approached as he poured himself a cup, not bothering to look up. When he moved to set the kettle back over the fire, John reached out to grab Arthur’s outstretched arm “Hey, wait. I need to talk with you.”

He felt Arthur stiffen for an instant before quickly letting go when he noticed Hosea walking up toward them.

“Oh, it’s good to see you two back to normal. This place has been too quiet without the likes of you getting up to no good!” John and Arthur both awkwardly avoided looking at each other.

Hosea filled his own cup before continuing, “but don’t pay me any mind, I’ll leave you boys to it.” Once Hosea was gone, Arthur didn’t move but still wouldn’t look at him straight.

“Please,” John whispered to him. “Come to my tent later.”

Arthur hesitated, “Fine. Maybe.”

Then he was gone again. And even though it wasn’t much, John hung onto the little bit of hope that rose in his chest. It made John feel better. So much so that the next time he went to meet with Dutch about Blackwater, things didn’t seem as dreadful as they usually did.

This time around, Dutch thought it would be a good idea to get out of camp a little. He thought he might show him around town to get him better acquainted.

As they rode out the sun beat down on John, sweat dripping from the nape of his neck while he followed Dutch down an unfamiliar path. Moving a hand to wipe at it, he glanced over at the older man. He wasn’t sure if Dutch felt as tired as John did, the man giving no indication with his straight posture and unexpressive features.

Soon they’d made it to a quaint farm on the outskirts of a town John had never seen before. If anyone could even call it a town. The place had maybe a couple of buildings and a train station somewhat separate from the rest of the settlement. But most prominently, no saloon.

They left their horses outside, John finding relief as him and the gang’s leader made their way inside the barn and out of the dreadful heat. Inside the air was stuffy but not unwelcome, as anything was better than being fried alive in the sun.

Dutch motioned to a man working with the horses, “this here’s Reedus, John.”

The man looked up at their entrance, stabbing the pitchfork he held into a bale of hay. He proceeded to dust his hands on his overalls before holding one out to greet John, “pleasures all mine, sir.”

John shook it respectfully, the man known as Reedus giving a goofy smile in return. Reedus was tall and had skin heavily darkened by the sun, no doubt from all the work spent outside. Though John didn’t know what to make of the man, he quite liked him.

“This is the closest stable to our… establishment. This will be the place for all your horse needs.” Dutch lowered his voice, “and other more, how should I say, discreet needs.”

John gave a look of confusion, not exactly understanding what he meant.

“He’s also a fence, son.”

Reedus nodded enthusiastically.

“Ah, I see.”

Dutch turned to Reedus with a polite smile, “could you give us a moment, please?”

The stable boy complied, setting down the pitchfork he held and hurried out the doors. He made sure to shut them when he left, leaving Dutch and John alone.

“Do you know why I brought you here?”

“You wanted to talk more about Blackwater, I figured.”

Dutch gave a huff of laughter, “yes, yes, in a sense I suppose you are right. You’ve told me of your findings there, how it seems a profitable venture by the sounds of it.”

John nodded and Dutch continued, “But do you remember what you did there?”

When John only blinked in confusion, Dutch motioned his arms around in a grand gesture. “Why, you worked in a stable quite similar to this!”

“I did, yeah.” John didn’t know what Dutch was getting at.

“Well, I’m sure something can be arranged for you here if anything were to happen to our dear friend, Reedus.”

John frowned, “I-I don’t understand.”

“I hoped I made myself perfectly clear, John. About our previous discussion. Though, seems that ain’t the case as I heard you and Arthur were mighty friendly towards one another.” He paused, eyes hardening as he looked at him. “Now John, did I make a mistake in letting you stay?”

John froze, panic seizing him, “n-no. No of course not, Dutch.”

“Good.” Dutch pressed his lips into a thin line before finally dropping his eyes. “Then let this be the last reminder you receive, boy.”

John’s eyes were glued to Dutch as he moved to pick up one of the branding irons from the fire. Lifting it, the spoke was red-hot and glowing in the low light of the barn. John tensed as he held the branding iron up. It cast a glow across the older man’s face, twisting his features into something sinister. John knew the image before him would reoccur for countless nightmares to come, his skin crawling from the sight.

When Dutch took a step towards him, John didn’t know whether to run or plead. He did neither, helpless in his presence like he had no choice but to give in, because what would he do? If he ran he would get caught, and whatever was in store for him would only turn into something far worse.

John only stood in place as Dutch grabbed his shirt, pulling it up to reveal his bare chest. Without hesitation, he brought the hot-iron against the stretched skin over his ribs. The pain was instant, white-hot as he heard the sizzling of hot metal against his flesh. He cried out in pain, grabbing onto Dutch’s sleeve as he felt his knees give out beneath him.

It was over before he knew it. Dutch simultaneously let go of him and the spoke, both falling to the floor in defeat. He knelt down beside where John was doubled over in anguish, “I just want you to know that you ain’t no son of mine, John Marston.” His tone was hushed but hid no sentiment of his words. Then he stood once more, not even giving him a second glance as he left out the barn doors.

“I’ll see you at camp, boy.”

When Dutch was gone, John collapsed in a pile of straw next to where the horses were stabled. He lay crying for some time, clenching his side. The pain almost more prominent than while it was happening. It was agonizing to move, so he stayed curled up alone with only the pain and his thoughts.

Part of John that believed perhaps what Dutch had done was warranted. That he had brought this upon himself and that he should be punished. He was told of the consequences. He risked his place in the gang when he tried to speak to Arthur. Even worse, he risked dragging Arthur into this whole mess.

Though he knew Arthur could do no wrong in the eyes of Dutch, the chance of him getting into any trouble because of John made him hesitant. And that hesitation ultimately led to giving in to Dutch’s cruel intentions.

When the barn door creaked open, John flinched. The small slit of sunlight made him wince as he held up a hand to cover his eyes. His heart rate increased while he waited for his sight to adjust on the figure before him.

Nico stood at the entrance, wide-eyed as she gave him a once over. Immediately she rushed towards him. “I saw you and Dutch going inside the barn and then only he left and-and…” she stuttered before trailing off, her expression mournful as if she wasn’t even surprised when she assumed what happened next.

John had never seen her without such composure before, it scared him to witness it. “I’ll be right back.” She stood and left for what only felt like a short minute before coming back in with her hands full of supplies.

Nico knelt back beside him, hesitating for a moment, “is it okay if I…?”

John complied by nodding and carefully lifting his shirt with shaking fingers. She set down what looked like a clean shirt in her lap and unscrewed a water canteen she held in her other hand. Silence filled the air between them as she worked. Gently, she poured the cool water across the burn. He gave a sharp inhale from the sudden contact, her eyes flickering to his in worry.

When she was finished cleaning the wound she started tearing up the shirt she brought into strips, then tied them together. John adjusted himself so his back wasn’t to the floor and she began wrapping the cloth lightly around his chest, making sure it was still tight enough so it wouldn’t rub. Once she was done, she spoke softly to break the quiet between them.

“He hasn’t been the same since you left.”

John turned towards her, letting the words sink in. He didn’t know what to say in response.

“It’s like each day he grew more distant with everyone, he just didn’t seem as carefree as he did before. It was hard to see him that way. Dutch entertained the idea that you had just run off, pretty much convinced the whole camp of it. Arthur was the last to accept it.”

His heart dropped at the thought of all the time Arthur spent thinking that John lied to him. Weeks expecting his letters to arrive followed by months spent feeling cheated. No wonder he avoided John when he finally did show up.

“Well, other than me. I don’t trust Dutch. I don’t think the others see it, though. They are blinded by the saving grace he was for them. They all owe him their lives, but beneath his charm and charisma I see a wickedness that will destroy the people around him.”

John was surprised at her confession. Suspicious, too, that it could all be part of some clever ploy Dutch himself strung together to torture him. Yet he believed her, and maybe he was a fool for doing so but John so desperately wanted for someone else to see him as the man he really was.

“You don’t know how good it is to hear someone else say it.” John breathed out, eyes watering.

She gave him a sad, knowing smile. They continued to sit together for a little while longer before Nico eventually helped John up when he gained enough strength. They rode back in silence, John eternally thankful that Nico had found him. He wondered that if it weren’t for her he might’ve just stayed there forever.

As they approached the border of their camp, John halted. “Maybe you should ride ahead. I don’t want you to get any unwanted attention from Dutch by being seen with me.”

“Let him.” She didn’t stop, so he continued following her. He had to admire her boldness.

John didn’t realize how long it had been until the sun began setting as they hitched their horses. All he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and cry. He was exhausted from a cruel day, but he was also angry. Angry at the world for what he endured, angry at Dutch for treating him like some dog that needed to be beaten into submission. Angry at himself for letting it happen.

John looked across the campsite at Dutch just as he exited his quarters, their eyes locking. He narrowed them at John, then darted to his side when Nico came up to stand beside him. Her gaze didn’t falter as she stared straight at him.

“Go on John, you should get some rest.”

He turned toward his tent, not daring to glance back. He didn’t relax until making it inside. John tried to push everything from his mind, managing to hold himself together. He was afraid that if he fell apart now he might not be able to put himself together again.

Steadily, he sat at the edge of his bed, careful not to strain his movements too much. In the quiet, he was aware of the stinging sensation underneath the tightly wrapped bandage around his chest. He was so in his head that he didn’t notice the shadowy figure at the tent’s entrance.

When he stood up in alarm he saw the unmistakable silhouette of Arthur positioned there, dark from the moonlight that cast him almost black.

John had completely forgotten about their arrangement to meet.

At first he said nothing, to which John only studied him in the little lighting he was given. He hadn’t properly looked at Arthur since returning. His hair was longer and his expression more frigid, but other than that he was the same Arthur that he remembered from a year ago.

“Is it true.” Arthur’s voice shook when he finally broke the tense air between them. John could tell it bothered him that his voice cracked from emotion at the way his hand clenched into a fist at his side.

“Dutch told me you left because you-” Arthur pressed his lips together and averted his eyes before continuing, “you didn’t want to be with us no more.”

After a moment he looked back up at John, his eyes hardening slightly. “So, is it true?”

John opened his mouth to answer, to say something, anything. The image of Dutch in the barn and the burning sensation seized him in a cold sweat. The mark on his ribs a stinging reminder of John’s disobedience.

Arthur looked at him expectantly. But John said nothing. He couldn’t find it in him to lie to the one person he cared for most in the world.

It seemed John answered his question nonetheless. His pained expression misinterpreted by Arthur as the boy gave a tight nod, pensive as he accepted John’s silence as confirming everything Dutch spun for him true.

He turned his back to leave but lingered at the entrance of the tent for a moment longer.

“I wish you never came back.”

Stung by his words, John was not able to stop the overflow of tears from rolling down his cheeks this time. Cursing himself for not being as strong as Nico.

He swallowed dryly, speaking softly so his voice wouldn’t shake and give away his true feelings when he responded, “perhaps that would’ve been best.”

Though he couldn’t see Arthur’s face, John knew him too well. Aware of the way his body slumped in disappointment. Realizing the fact that Arthur had a little bit of hope in him, too.

And that’s when John felt it. For all the pain he endured in his life, nothing came close to the breaking he felt in that moment. His world crumbling before him at the understanding that there was nothing he could do to take it back. The long summer nights riding to discover a better spot to watch the sunset together, the times spent preoccupying their boredom by losing count of the stars in the night sky. The recollection of stupid jokes they killed themselves laughing over when they both knew deep down they weren’t funny at all. Nothing could fill the absence of a year spent apart and filled by the cruel lies put in their place. Everything they had built between the two of them fading as Arthur walked away from him for the first and what John knew to be the final time.

Each step solidifying that what they once had was lost alongside every one of John’s letters that may as well have been written in the wind.

#john marston x arthur morgan #jarthur #red dead fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #john marston fanfic #arthur morgan/john marston #tw: physical abuse #in this chapter #morston

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