#i love diablo ii

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Pssst hey poke poke wanna rant about Diablo II is it any good Iv been considering getting into the series

Absolutely!!!!!!!

Oh my fucking God, ok ok ok...

So. I love it.

Diablo II remastered is my favorite in the series, and I can't even verbalize how much of a fucking gremlin I become over this game, bro. Dude. Okay so. Hot takes, coming in, but the second one is my favorite in terms of art design, gameplay, and overall vibe. It's also a pain in my ass. But a good pain lol.

In terms of playability, something a lot of people complain about with older games is the lack of explanation for a lot of gameplay mechanics (not just Diablo, if you play older games you probably know what I'm talking about), so the first two games even remastered can feel sluggish, unnecessarily difficult, and confusing. Which are very valid criticisms, I don't side with gamers who complain about new games coddling their players however. Straight up, the horadric cube in D2 doesn't have an instruction manual. Bless the internet.

Diablo 1 and 2 have just an incredible atmosphere and artistic design. It's dark fantasy. The angels are sick as fuck. The cover art; o r g a s m i c. Like,

And for some people who didn't grow up playing Diablo II, the learning curve is really steep. But I enjoy it! I love starting new characters and then deleting them again because I found a better build. Experimenting without looking up guides for point allocation and gear.

This is the cover art for Diablo II: Resurrected.

This is how I want to feel going into my fights. This is my enemy. Sexy as hell. I would recommend this game, it's one of my all time favorites. The characters are connected through your battlenet account, so if you buy the game for your Xbox and for the Switch as I did, you play your same game. Which is probably a no brainer for people who played video games for a lot longer than me, but I didn't have a console until I was in my twenties.

If you ever get this game, and wanna cry when encountering the first boss, I will give you my ultimate guide to how this dumbass cheesed their way through the encounter without dying ❤️

Also, secret level, near the beginning of the game you go through a portal and you can pick up a dead guy's artificial leg. Keep it. Later, you can use it with the horadric cube to unlock the best fucking level of all goddamn time. 🐮

Now, the other games... Diablo III.

The gameplay was way too easy (for me at least). After the first boss the story gets better, but everything about the third game is super different.. It's art is super stylized. It feels cartoonish in the lineup. It isn't dark, even with the body horror and literal demons, because everything feels colorful. It's the anime inspired fantasy roleplay version of the grim dark heavy metal fantasy games. I liked the story, because I was so invested in Diablo II that I needed to experience what came next, and I don't regret playing it, it was fun, but it didn't have that replayability factor imo. That's just me though.

Before anyone complains, yes I played RoS and Death was sick as fuck, these are just my silly little opinions playing the games. But like, it just didn't frustrate me, or make me feel like I was in a life and death war. But, if you like power play fantasies, Diablo III: Reaper of Souls, necromancer broken as fuck. Kept having to raise the difficulty while playing because I blasted through everything.

Before I go on, you know that trope where angels are dicks? Cuz these games are full of angels that are huge dicks. Best angel in the entire series is in the third game, he's the best character, I won't say his name because they act like it's supposed to be a surprise that he's an angel but ahshgsjsj..... I replay for him, and Diablo, but other than that it's only fun to play with someone who hasn't experienced it yet so I can vicariously feel their enjoyment. If that makes sense.

And my ultimate disappointment, Diablo IV.

The story is awesome. The cut scenes are cinematic. Lilith is superb. They went back to the same dark realistic atmosphere of pre D3.

I'm just really bitter about microtransaction hell, season passes in a game that just came out and was so pricey, and end game content that felt like a chore instead of a game.

It was super rewarding the first playthrough, don't get be wrong! The story was so fun, and the monsters were delightful bastards. They brought back the Butcher from part three, but unlike in D3, he was a huge asshole in D4, sunnova bitch lol

The game was so fun until we got to the end game and season of the malignant.. the developers keep arguing with the community whenever they bring up valid criticisms instead of addressing what's lacking. I wish the game wasn't so expensive, because I would recommend it if it was just a fun game..? I liked it, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the developers do something better with season passes or with future dlc expansions.

I hate real world currency in game shops and a lot of season passes. DLCs I understand. I like. But a season pass that's ridiculously expensive on top of an already pricey game that doesn't add enough new content for actual gameplay and instead makes you grind for a new horse skin? And grinding.

Ugh. I still really enjoyed it, but I can't in good conscience recommend it because the price makes me feel guilty. It's great, until you beat the game. It's open world, but the missions are limited, and the grind isn't rewarding. Again, crossing my fingers they make it more fun with future updates.

Such a bad bitch. Fucking love her. Mommy. The initial game is great. Just not for that price. Open world games should be playable forever, and that's what D4 promised, they just didn't deliver.

Sorry if this is a mess, I'm about to fall asleep ❤️ but yeah, I fucking love this series, even when I don't. The story and characters and the atmosphere when it's there.

[infant-no-finances]

bbno$ - Bubblin

[citrusmillie]

every diablo iv beginner guide video is like

"do the campaign or whatever. Okay now beginner tip #1: the best way to get good drops is to equip your ancestral fetish gear and fight tier 900 uber lillith in meganightmare poopoo hell"

[talaraleya]

20 years in between... Damn I am old.

[wp100]

sucks that the silent hill 2 remake is on the ps5

[spirit-of-beetlejuiceblues12]

Stan Twins headcanons No One asked for (TW: some angst)

Because I’m obsessing over Gravity Falls yet again.

Stan and Ford shared the Diablo through high school (they bought it together), but their parents bought Ford his own car for graduation after Stan was kicked out

Stanley cried when he crashed the Diablo to fake his death because it felt like losing his brother all over again

Stanley kept all the mirrors/reflective surfaces in the house covered for at least a year after the portal incident

Ford refused to keep the home movies from his and Stan’s childhood; Stanley got them from their parents at his funeral and kept them in the Shack for when he finally got Ford home

Fiddleford actually enjoyed having Bill around until he started being actively creepy and take advantage of Ford

Time passes differently in different dimensions, so Ford forgot how old he was until he got back to his home dimension and found a calendar

The people of Gravity Falls genuinely love Stan like he’s their uncle; every town needs a grouchy uncle

Ford had girls literally lining up to flirt with him in college but was too busy/dumb to notice

The twins forgot to call Shermie and explain everything for nearly half a year after Ford’s return; Dipper and Mabel said nothing about it, assuming Stan and Ford had already told him

Shermie knew it was Stanley in Gravity Falls the whole time and just figured Ford was off working for the government as a top secret scientific advisor or something

While adventuring on the Stan O’ War II, Ford calls Dipper and Mabel obsessively to make sure they’re doing okay

Stan and Ford both ship Dipcifica, but for different reasons (“Marry rich, kid, I like it!” “They make each other better, Stanley!”)

[felassan]

Thoughts on DA: Vows & Vengeance -

[info compilation post link] [more info on the podcast]

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this post is rather unstructured : )

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I know what BW said about how there won't be official transcripts, but I hope that they decide to post official transcripts of each episode if it's possible, as it's rly important for accessibility & inclusivity.

I like the title - the alliteration is fun, and the concepts of vengeance and revenge are a DA thematic staple atp. it's neat that it's free and the spacing of one episode per week until mid/late October will help pass the time until launch (the last podcast episode releases 2 weeks before DA:TV Release Day). it's also cool to see DA expand into new forms of media, and I'm excited that we will hear lots more lines from each of the 7 Veilguard companions. 👁️

here is one of the podcast writers, Jeremy Novick, on Twitter.

I’m really looking forwards to Taash and Davrin’s episodes of the podcast in particular ◕‿◕ it feels like we don't know much about them or their backstories relative to the other DA:TV companions at this point in time.

Nadia Carcosa, Drayden and Elio are described as being "podcast-exclusive" characters, I guess this means they will not appear in the game itself (which helps the podcast storyline stay self-contained and the podcast to remain as optional listening). but it would be cool if in the game there is some references to them here and there, like in dialogue and/or codex entries/notes etc. 😊

in the background image of the teaser trailer and what looks like the thumbnail for the podcast[?] on podcasting sites, the two faction symbols shown are the Mourn Watch and the Shadow Dragons. is this a coincidence/just since their symbols look cool, or are these two factions the factions with the biggest roles in the podcast storyline relative to the others? the penultimate episodes are the ones that focus on Emmrich and Neve 🤔

"revenge, redemption, and love": these themes mixed together often produce regret. and there was a quote somewhere in DA:TV marketing materials that said “For DA:TV [the game itself], from the start one of the biggest themes has been regret; how regret shaped peoples’ lives, how people deal with their regrets, how people maybe move past their regrets.”

Mae Whitman previous credits include: Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World Brigette Lundy-Paine previous credits include: Bill & Ted Face the Music, Atypical, I Saw the TV Glow Armen Taylor previous credits include: Diablo IV, Octopath Traveler II, Vinland Saga

I wonder when the podcast is set? maybe in the weeks to months before Varric, Harding, Neve and Rook go to Solas' ritual site in the game's prologue? I also wonder what lineages Nadia, Drayden and Elio are? If Drayden has a mysterious connection to the Fade, they're most likely to be human or elven, right?

cat burglar, thief, scoring jobs like the one described in the podcast's plotblurbs - these kind of plot beats remind me of what we learned about an earlier concept of DA:TV when the game was more about stuff like heists and spies.

Nadia being a thief unknowingly employed by the Dread Wolf to track down a powerful ancient artifact before finding herself tangled up in everything: this reminds me sm of one of the 'here's what the DA4 PC's backstory could be and how they could end up caught up in the narrative of the game'-speculation ideas I used to wonder about hhh.

a retired cat burglar.. maybe Nadia has ties to the Lords of Fortune? some of them seem to be more thiefy. although, being wanted by Tevinter authorities for crimes of theft, high treason and murder maybe points towards Shadow Dragons instead.

two lovers going on a job to get an artifact reminds me of Irian Cestes and Vadis from TN. "burglar" also gives me Hobbit/LOTR vibes :D I imagine that over the many years since DA:I, the Dread Wolf has employed many such people [unknowingly to them] on jobs like this.

Elio being "seemingly" banished to the Fade is interesting wording.. so is "banished" actually. (Elio's Fade banishment also makes me think of foreshadowing Solas' subsequent entry to Fade Jail in DA:TV.) ((shoutout to left-in-the-Fade-Hawkes' LIs who I can also imagine desperately searching for answers on a rescue mission across all of Thedas after learning that Hawke was left in the Fade in DA:I...))

Carcosa

I'm reaaally curious about what Drayden's mysterious connection to the Fade is all about and entails.

"a few [answers] they wish they hadn’t" 👁️...

the question is, what the powerful ancient artifact is, and why does Solas want it? if he wants it it's probably ancient elven, right?

On the trailer itself

"This chamber, it feels different from the cave. I can sense something. The Veil is thin here." - I'd guess this speaker is Drayden. it isn't Nadia, as we hear her later on. the speaker can sense the thin/thickness of the Veil and Drayden is said to have a mysterious connection to the Fade. at this point they're in some kind of, well, chamber, as the speaker's voice echoes and you can hear water dripping down the damp walls.

The announcer's voice is so deep hh!

To be wanted by Tevinter authorities for crimes including high treason, maybe Nadia is from Tevinter? treason is "the crime of betraying one's country, especially by attempting to kill or overthrow the sovereign or government." so to commit treason in Tevinter context, you're probably from Tevinter.

"Who the hell is Nadia Carcosa?" - this sounds like Varric. :>

"So, what's the mark?" - I'd guess this speaker is Nadia. they sound scrappy/seasoned (Nadia is nearly retired), and the speaker is probably asking for more details on the job they've just acquired to do. does she sound like she could be a dwarf to anyone else or is this just me? :D maybe that's just my daydreams hhh

"The Eye of Kethisca" quote: presumably the middle man who Solas hired to hire someone, thereby keeping his own identity secret

The Eye of Kethisca itself: this must be the "powerful ancient artifact" from the text blurbs. there are no hits for "Kethisca" on the DA Wiki, so this is a new name/thing. it must be creepy-deepy, because when it's mentioned in the trailer you can hear creepy voices whispering ominously. :D "Kethisca" doesn't sound elven, but you could easily have an artifact that's e.g. ancient elven but acquired another name or been called something else by others in the centuries since.

"The Eye was made from a rare gem mined here in the caves beneath us. It was crafted centuries ago by a powerful Dreamer." - Solas speaking. I wonder how oblique/lies of omission/technically true (you know what I mean? that thing he does) Solas is being here.. like maybe the Dreamer was an ancient elvhen Dreamer not a human Tevinter one, like maybe the centuries ago were centuries and centuries and centuries ago dating back to Elvhenan rather than later on temporally at say, a more recent time in history like the height of the Imperium. "Eye" makes me think of spherical things, "gem" makes me think of how lyrium (Titans' blood) is a mineral. caves makes me think of dwarfy things and the Deep Roads. as for "mined":

"The runes say the Evanuris fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium and... something else. It's not clear."

what if the Eye is the heart of a Titan, a foci? Solas' Orb was spherical and the hearts of Titans look spherical here in the Death of a Titan mural. the way he frames it makes it sound like the mark is a rare jewel mined from caves by a Tevinter human dreamer long ago before being crafted into something, but I wonder if it was, more technically, the heart of a Titan mined from the body of a Titan even longer ago by, say, a member of the Evanuris, before being crafted into a foci. Solas needed his own foci in DA:I to carry out his plans, and then it was broken. there was more than one foci in ancient Elvhenan; after DA:I and Trespasser, I could see a world/storyline in which, during the long years between then and DA:TV, Solas at some point learns that another one of the foci artifacts survived into the modern day, and decided to try and get his hands on it so that he can carry out his plan using another foci instead. and since the foci can do Fadey/Veily stuff, that could be how Elio got yeeted in there. reminds me a bit of the scene when the Inquisitor yeets Cory at the end of DA:I. (here I'm just speculating wildly for fun hhh. Solas' Orb doesn't really look like a gem etc. and the Lyrium Knife tears the Veil, so maybe this storyline was set before he got that or sth)

also I wonder where these caves are? beneath Minrathous? Solas has a hideout beneath Minrathous, as we know, and the deeper you go the more elfy things get.

Magister Andante: I think this is our first time hearing about this character. their name reminds me of Andraste.

"Magister Andante? It's about Nadia. She's about to do something quite reckless." - this sounds to me like Neve speaking. it kind of sounds like she's meeting the magister clandestinely, at night. she seems to know Nadia.

"Listen to me, you've been tricked. This isn't a simple grab-and-go for the money. There are bigger forces at play. We have to put this back and leave." - I'd guess this speaker is Elio. it sounds like at this point he and Nadia have found the Eye and taken it, but he's trying to get her to see reason/warn her. it's a tense moment with the sound of battle all around them.

"I'm sorry, but I won't let you pay for my mistakes." - Nadia refusing to listen to Elio. the sounds of battle get louder and it sounds like there's an explosion or something? plus the dragon roar. maybe Mr dragon is breathing fire everywhere. :D I wonder as well if it's Elio grunting in pain at this point. I'd guess this is the moment where Elio is seemingly yeeted into the Fade perhaps?

"Nadia, I presume. I am Solas, and I am, I believe, the one that you seek." - Solas again obviously, only this time sounding way more godly and Fen'Harelly in persona (booming) than he did when he was talking more demurely/plainly about what the Eye is.

"The name I seek is the Dread Wolf" - Nadia again obviously :) so something in the job went wrong, she figures out who hired them, and goes to find the Dread Wolf presumably because she either blames him for Elio being stuck in the Fade and/or she thinks he might be able to get him out or tell her how.

"The Eye will destroy you" - and this sounds like Neve again maybe?

[whoyacallinyellow]

Borrowed Time hurt me a lot omg- Now I offer you even more angst.

It's sad that Javier became the very thing in 1911 that he swore to destroy (working as a hitman for a tyrant government) but it would be even sadder if (as a part 2 ig of borrowed time) Javier and his love meet again but this time, he was there to arrest her and bring her to town to hang.

Borrowed Time II

Javier Escuella x F! reader

Spoilers: major RDR1-2 events Content: 18+, low honor Javier, angst, betrayal, loyalty, dramatic, possessive, referenced/implied sex, canon typical events & violence, possible unintentional spelling mistakes, google translated Spanish Type: I-II changed to second pov (wc - 4133) / pc: pinterest a/n: i can feel this request in my veins, so here’s my mediocre yapping! live, laugh, angst 

Summary: Following the events of Beaver Hollow and your departure, Javier falls into work with Allende. After your reunion he reflects on his time with you, to only turn you in by nightfall. 

It was a warm day in New Austin, the orange rays blanketing the barren dirt landscape, and not a cloud in the sky. Javier only imagined finding himself wandering these lands again, but yet he returned on what seemed to be borrowed time.

A few years had passed since he last saw you at Beaver Hollow. The man could not bear to show his face, the embarrassment of being wrong about Dutch was an ego check it say the very least. 

Yet your note lived in the far corner of his mind, a small cabin just north of MacFarlane's Ranch from his understanding. 

It did not take the man long to find it, local cowpokes cowered at the sight of the large Mexican outlaw sitting upon an even larger steed, interrogating them about a maiden. It was almost as if the best pieces of you resembled him, immediately reminding the folk of who it was he was searching for. 

Boaz grunted against Javier’s spurs, digging deep into the loose red dirt below. The sunbeams which crept through the dry pine trees created quite the atmosphere, allowing Javier to get lost in his head, even if it were just for a few moments of bliss. 

Despite the directions given to him, Javier hoped you had moved on after all these years, fled somewhere safer, started a new life, perhaps changed your name as well. Somewhere he would never find you. 

Boaz continued to race down the winding path, feeding Javier’s anticipation against the warm breeze. As it gusted past the side of his head, loose strands from his tied hair tickled his ears, merely reminding the man how badly he needed a haircut. 

The starving grass which bordered West Elizabeth held a yellow tinge, the land rolled and waved, flourishing with birds and wildlife. Javier reckoned he has not been to the area before, but you were not lying about how appealing it was— a perfect home for you two. 

Upon whipping around the corner, abruptly revealed a small cabin with songbirds singing to him in the trees. The place was quiet, cozy, and seemingly inhabited, with small smoke stacks exhausting from the brick chimney. 

Bringing Boaz to a halt, there was no sign of you— but sure enough a big black cloud skulked in the nearby pen, following you wherever you wandered like a burden. 

Javier stiffly slid off Boaz, his knees nearly giving out from under him as his boots crunched onto the dirt. The beast was grazing on hay as he approached the fence post 

After whistling and calling your shire a few times, Javier was promptly ignored, perhaps the slow and ominous brute heard the man call him el diablo one too many times. 

He was still a strong believer the only reason the horse broke for you was out of pity— you looked like a child struggling to climb him every endeavor. Maybe the beast had a soft spot for you, just like himself. 

But now the old shire was relieved from his saddle, serenading in the New Austin sun, not bothered to obey the envious man’s command. 

Javier leaned against the corral post, admiring what he could have had with you, the thought of being a family man loomed over his shoulders and displayed no signs of leaving. 

You and Javier ran together prior to joining Dutch, less for money and more for survival. Your past crimes covered bounty boards and train stations as a permanent reminder, never forgetting the wrongs that were written. That price only increased once Mexico inevitably caught wind of all the messy jobs in neighboring lands. 

He drowned and you sank with him, the price of his sins were bricks added to your back. Being his accessory, the government saw you as a pawn, smart and knowledgeable, if caught— Javier would come for you, and they would be ready for him. 

Those days were nearly from another lifetime. 

Now under Allende’s ruling fist, he offered him a twisted plea deal of sorts; protection at the cost of something the man held more dearly than life itself—you. Your capture was not about the money nor status, but simply a test of his loyalty to Allende; if Javier did this job, he’d do anything. 

The poor man’s convoluted loyalty never got him far, proving time and time again, leading him only to dead ends and false hopes. Charismatic attributes and big promises was something Javier foolishly gave everything to with a blind eye, something you always warned him about.  

“Javier?—“ 

Your voice could have made him leap out of his own skin. As he hesitantly turned towards you, his gut twisted into something mean. You were beautiful as ever, after all these years you waited for him— just like you promised. 

“Never thought I’d see you again, especially in the west.” You spoke again in disbelief, rag wiping your hands clean of a job he should have been doing. 

Your voice only lived in his memories, hearing it again nearly whipped Javier back into shape, feeling sick for your puppy love he desperately relied on so long ago. 

“Home sweet home.” The man swallowed dryly, throwing his arms out awkwardly and gesturing towards the open lands around you both. 

Before his thoughts could catch up to the moment, you ran to embrace him, flinging yourself into his arms with a long awaited kiss. Javier grunted softly against your lips, staggering back to support you, the extra attention only reminding him how saddle sore he really was.  

Just for a moment things felt normal, a feeling he was searching for since you split. He had a place in this cruel world once again, everywhere had a price on his head, no place to retreat to besides you— you were home. 

Perhaps he could head tail between his legs back to Allende, saying you disappeared. 

Maybe he could take you to Canada, or a tropical island— oh, anywhere but Guarma. 

We must leave,

Javier’s unsaid words pricked beneath his skin, prodding relentlessly at his deepest desires for redemption. 

“Oh—amor.” 

Was all the man could choke out, the words exiting pitiful and weak, a near cry for help you assumed was just your bittersweet reunion. 

Leaning away you smiled coyly at him, admiring your lost cowboy;

Your time apart was not easy on Javier, his hardened stare and the chip on his shoulder now set in stone. 

The constant blazing sun of Mexico, along with surviving off rationed canned beans really took a toll on the man. His face was dull and lacking the usual pigment he wore so handsomely when Mr. Pearson cooked for everyone. 

Javier’s newfound demeanor only put emphasis on his sharp brows peeking from under his bowler cap brim, residing above dark cunning eyes, ready to match any cowpuncher who dared challenge him. 

Over Javier’s shoulder was where his mount rested, hoove digging into the dirt at the end of the cabin’s path. 

“—and Boaz?” You began after a shared silence, slowly approaching the overworked horse. 

“Still kickin’.” He uttered gently, a large hand scratching the back of his neck. 

Boaz never really liked you, or anyone besides Javier that is. It wasn’t until the gang hunkered down in Colter for the stubborn bastard to take a liking to you. 

The weather and unpredictable circumstances was not easy on the gang, including the horses, causing rations to be small among the mounts. 

You always carried treats in your satchel to gain Boaz’s affection, and your efforts would eventually succeed in Colter. You would secretly slip him sugar cubes every time you left the shack, he must have appreciated the extra attention. Javier barely recognized Boaz trotting up to him in the snow, you mounted on top wearing a proud grin. 

You wore a similar grin now, full of satisfaction and pride that he returned to you— with warmth flowing through him, his heart rapidly thumped in his ears, all the pent up feelings for you were reopening like floodgates. 

“What’a nice feller, huh.” You cooed to the mount after a slow approach. 

Showing no distress Boaz allowed your kind pats and rubs. Tenderly nudging you, the horse’s chops tried sneaking its way into your pockets, searching for the snacks you usually held after a long journey. 

“Ai, fácil!” 

Javier exclaimed, quickly guiding Boaz’s large snout away, the loving gestures nearly toppling you over. 

“Guess I’m glad he still remembers me.” You beamed, tipping your hat lower to shield yourself from the beating sun. 

“Or perhaps your donations, amor.” Javier quipped softly, his eyes wandering meekly. 

Something besides time passing seemed different about him, you could not quite pinpoint it. Javier was always a timid man at first when it came to his lover, maybe your time apart presented this old side of him. 

You knelt slightly, peeking under his sunken head which hung towards the ground. 

“Javier? You don’t look so good.” 

Your soft words managed to dig their way through his ringing ears, the man squinted his eyes tightly before swiping his lids with rough fingers. 

“Uh— maybe you oughta sit for a bit, I think you’re overdressed for this heat.” 

Your words broke through once again, giving a small tug on his poncho, his disoriented vision cluttered with black floating spots as you guided towards the porch. 

As his vision continued to warp, the cabin doubled and skewed while you put him in the shade. 

Javier knew you were speaking, your voice fading in and out irreguarly, piercing his ears every so often. 

The words felt like they were being consumed by the ocean, his head bobbed up and down as if he were drowning. All he could think about was Dutch’s screams over the storm and waves, as he was about to be consumed by the large void. 

But Dutch snagged him before being swept away, yanking him upon the tiny rowboat that threatened to tip from the added stress. Javier’s senses were waterlogged, rejecting the mean salty water from his lungs. As he gasped for air; the only thing he thought of was you. 

“S’alright, son, You’re not dying today!” Was the first thing he heard. He faded in and out of consciousness as Dutch beat the sea water out of him, his ribcage rattling under each and every smack. 

Javier sometimes wonders if Dutch should have just let him die, abandon him and allow the dark waters to engulf him whole, repaying his sins to his maker. Maybe his death would free you of your burdens. 

He felt like his time had withered before Dutch had saved him anyways. Being a prisoner in Guarma is what convinced him that he would never make it back to you, sealing the deal. Your previous words borrowed time scratched at his skin again, yearning to be acknowledged. 

“Ah well, I knew you’d come crawling back, you’re here for a reason.” You would always say to him after a particularly dangerous run with the gang. He would dismiss you with a mumble and a kiss, but always knew he was lucky to be alive as more of his brothers began to fall. 

Sometimes he would catch you talking to a disgruntled Arthur as he packed his horse. 

Upon inquiring about your words, Arthur being a somewhat vague man would shortly grumble; 

“Jus’ focus on the job, and returnin’ to your woman, Javier.” 

—and he always did. Javier knew you did not worry about him much, at least outwardly. But he did notice Arthur’s presence whenever trouble presented itself. 

~

“Javier— some water.” 

Your words along with a canteen dangled in front of him, the prior hallucination of a watery grave was almost enough to empty his stomach. 

Javier stared back towards your shire lounging in his corral, his mind once again wandering back to the life he could have had with you. 

In the midst of his tunneling vision, a lean coyote lingered through his gaze, stalking towards him, icy eyes sending daggers into his before diminishing. 

“Javier. Say something.” Your words were now much clearer to him, breaking through his consciousness, the ringing disappeared from his mind fog. 

“‘M alright.” He muttered, spitting out the bitter taste from his mouth. 

“I reckon you oughta take it easy, being an old man n’ all now.”

Javier frowned at you and blinked a couple times, jaw agape, processing the pun you made at his dismay. 

“Ha— so sorry, chica, ‘suppose I’m no longer the young buck you remember.” 

He replied sarcastically, his voice both bold and hoarse as he raised back to his feet, every step whining for rest. 

“Ride with me?” Javier suddenly asked as if nothing happened. It took you by surprise, he had just arrived after all. 

“Alright.” You obliged shortly after a pause. “Let me grab my belt.” You continued, motioning towards the missing holsters on your frame. 

“No need.” He cut you off quickly, his voice leaving traces of urgency. 

“Boaz is packed.” 

You eyed him up, watching the man shutter under your antagonizing gaze, how he hoped you were not suspicious of his intentions after all this time. But rightfully so, the man was yellow-bellied. 

But you had no reason not to trust him. 

You were not exactly sure where Javier was taking you, but for now his company was enough to keep you satisfied. The ride was eerily quiet, even for his standards, being a man of few words. 

After riding a little down south he brought you to a small mountain that overlooked Mexico. He perched you both on a small flat area, just in time for the sun to sink below the land. 

Javier stared over the horizon, he never really did think about how big the south was, yet how small he felt in comparison. A glimmer caught onto his peripheral, turning towards the shine was the pendent he had given you, when you both first started running with the gang. 

The feeling presented itself again, feeling so small in the world— you were the home he had been searching for since the gang's fallout. It was always you. 

He sank into his memories, a vessel of his former self was all that remained. 

You two were quite away from your newly shared camp, with all the members and leads, the moments you had alone became quite sparse. 

“What do you think, Javi?” Your sudden presence caught him off guard. 

“The gang?—“ he pondered your words, leaning against a shady oak. 

“I suppose they’re family for now, señorita. We’re much safer, and they’re good to us.” Javier replied, a hand brushing over the stubble on his jaw. You smiled gently with a nod, making your uneasiness all too obvious. 

“It’s just temporary, amor, once we have the money to get on our feet— it’ll be the two of us again.” He reassured, a polite arm sliding around your waist. 

Javier remembers the look in your eye, doubtful and full of sorrow, but you still trusted him, knowing he would never lead you astray. The same he thought about Dutch.  

Repositioning himself behind you, he dug a necklace from his pocket, draping it over your chest and clasping it. You fidgeted in surprise against his movements, gazing down at the beautiful silver pendant that glistened off the very same sun. Before you could say a word he planted a kiss on your lips, gentle and quick before mounting Boaz. 

“I promise!” 

He called out. After blowing a kiss to you, he was off to assist the gang. He didn’t have much money at the time, but Javier always knew how to make things work—

Oh how naive of him— bright eyed and lovesick, he wanted to make a woman out of you, settle down. That is, before Dutch’s plan captivated him. Which ultimately led to this mess, but who is he kidding, he never really had a chance anyways. 

Javier thought back with immense regret, wishing he was more romantic with you in a way, officially making you his chica earlier on, instead of prolonging it due to the possibility of death. He always feared that courting would further your heartbreak if something bad were to happen. 

It was his own unaddressed way to cope with the harsh reality of survival and being an outlaw, he always prioritized your safety over intimacy until joining the gang. When he looks back on it, your shared time at Horseshoe Overlook and Clemons Point were some of the best times of his life. 

Around that time of riding with the gang was when your relationship with him really began to evolve. The potential competition of other men drove Javier and his intimacy up a wall— his usual gentle lips ghosting over yours turned into small nips, and purple blotches he would mark on your neck late at night. A tight palm covering your mouth which muffled the moans of his name, words the man would kill to hear in such an uncaged manner. He entertained no confusion of who you belonged to; even if he did not make things official until that night at the lake.  

Javier had nearly forgotten the sun had already set, and he somehow had no recollection of it. He looked down at you, only in a thin shirt as you gazed longingly off the mountain side.

The final sunset you shared was simply a ticking clock for him. 

“Cold?” He whispered, words he could barely choke out. 

“A little.” You replied, big doe-like eyes staring up at him, holding so much love for the man. Love he was not sure he ever deserved. 

Forcing his gaze away quickly he arose, soles of his feet vibrating and pulsing with each step. After approaching Boaz his shaking hands freed his bedroll clasps, attention locked upon his rifle poking out of the saddle. 

His head spun, finally digging himself out of his trance. After returning to you, he draped the cloth over you coyly. 

“You okay?” You suddenly asked, your hush voice startling him, he sighed in despair. 

The words you said to him at Beaver Hollow replayed through his mind,

Leave with me. Let’s run away. 

But he could not get them out, his chest quivered under the constraint of his uneven breaths. 

“Course.” He managed to form the word, you nodded in contentment, fresh air filling your nose. 

His response would have to do for now, you decided to cut him some slack since he returned to you, after all. 

By now you knew him well enough. Some nights he would stay up and collect his thoughts before laying beside you. You always respected his space, he had his demons, like everyone else. Soon enough in your slumber  you would feel his protective arms drape around you, his steady breaths hitting the nape of your neck, tense body encapsulating yours— those were the nights you felt the safest, and knew he was going to manage just fine. 

Other nights Javier would stay up while you were by your lonesome. He always feared something would kill the both of you while asleep, reluctantly you agreed. But the man always let you rest, you needed it more, that is for putting up with him all day round. 

Your memories swam with always being coaxed to sleep, eventually giving into the soft lulls he would sing. A wordless agreement that there was no point for the both of you to be cranky and tired in the morning. 

—But there he sat, only to turn into the monster he swore to protect you from. 

“I love you, Javier.” 

Your words racked his brain, digging and clawing invasively into each one of his bones. Javier thought he imagined them until he looked over to find you staring this entire time. You knew there was something seriously wrong, but surely he would tell you within due time. 

Javier’s voice was lost, swallowing suppressed sobs down his dry throat, he nearly felt like he was drowning once again in the frame he called a body. 

Just like the days he would not say it back while pursuing a lead, with doubts he would not make it back to your arms— but he always did, it was the least he could do. It felt like lifetimes ago to him, how could the man choke out a te amo before sending you in? 

Instead, he planted a kiss on your soft lips, lingering there for a moment, knowing it would be your last. 

Looming below in the shadows, trailing to the border resided monsters he used to protect you from— two Mexican soldiers camped out by the tracks. Their lanterns flickering softly in the distance, patiently waiting for the man to arrive at the agreed meeting spot. 

Javier shivered, feeling like a young boy again. His eyes fixated on the stock of his rifle that Boaz held. 

Your breaths became shallow, harmonizing with the warm night’s breeze as you fell into a slumber. You trusted Javier’s judgment on setting up camp or heading home, you perhaps allowed yourself to get a little too comfortable. 

It all happened so fast for him, and there was no going back. Javier’s mind blurred as he rode, Boaz fussing and fighting under his control. His very own horse feared the  monster he had become, maybe poor Boaz thought he was Javier’s next victim. 

He rode fast— but not fast enough to flee from himself. 

A coyote lurked around the darkness, gazing at Javier from behind the two Mexican soldiers who taunted him, puffing on their big cigars from Uncle Sam.  

The coyote disappeared as Javier reached for his revolver, patiently waiting for the man to shoot him— but he never did. 

The soldier simply laughed, knowing Javier’s bark had no bite. While under Allende’s power, he was simply a coward a soldier would not even match out of pity.  

Soon enough the two men fled into the night, banter that could be heard a mile away through the ravines. Anyone could have mistaken them for sick hyenas. 

He could hear their stallions riding hard in triumph, with a new prize Javier held so close for many years, he watched the soldiers grow smaller and smaller over the uneven land until the darkness swallowed them whole, taking a piece of him along. 

The nighttimes ahead would find Javier in a one horse town saloon, nodding off more times than he could remember. His glass turned from full to empty until his vision doubled. 

Javier was not sure how many days had passed, the whiskey dulling his mind and senses, but the thoughts still ate him alive. 

Did you think he would come for you? Or would you be envious, spilling everything you could before meeting the gallows. 

Javier hid in his palms, knowing he got it all wrong— it should have been him. 

It did not take too long for the man to get kicked out from the saloon due to his drunken stupor, not even the bartender wanted his dirty money. 

Javier took Boaz to what he thought was east, the coyote returned to accompany him, lurking around on the monotone forest floors he traveled. 

The night breeze made Javier reminisce of the times at camp, the very same breeze that whipped through your hair as you would drag him off somewhere secluded, your mischievous grin reflecting off the summer night's moon as you snuck off into the bushes. 

You gave everything to each other— all for nothing it seems.

Javier sank lower into himself before eventually staggering off Boaz. It only took him a few unsteady steps to empty his bowels on the dirt path, elbows hoisting him up on his shaky bent knees. 

Peeking out from his jacket cuff was a scar he once wore proudly on his wrist. A scar he earned in some honky tonk town just because another man looked at you wrong. The mere thought of it worsened his nausea.  

All signs pointed to you, and you were gone because of reasons he barely understood himself— He feared he didn’t know what loyalty was anymore. Or what he stood for in fact. 

Your blind love killed you in the end, and it was his cross to bear. 

The sky was dark and dull, which was just as familiar as a bottle and a glass. Not a single star in the sky greeted him, leaving him to fester alone. 

The wind howled violently through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and sway. A northern was quickly sneaking upon the lands of New Austin. 

His lone coyote joined him on a distant cliffside, coat black as sin, mocking the cowboy who lingered below. 

~

[twola]

The pines, they often whisper They whisper what no tongue can tell He who drinks from the deep water May he know the depths of the well

➵ AO3

➵ requests: open

➵Passerine

arthur morgan x f!reader, explicit, dark/heavy themes, ongoing

When a run-in with an O’Driscoll leads you to a fate worse than death, it’s up to Arthur to pick up the pieces.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

➵Devil's Backbone

arthur morgan x f!OC, explicit, longfic, ongoing

Limpany’s burning was a lot more than meets the eye. Deception, greed, and murder follow everyone touched by Leviticus Cornwall. A story where the Van der Linde gang gets even more inescapably involved in Cornwall’s dealings, with the survivor of the massacre at the heart of it all. Slow burn. Pre-Blackwater and beyond.

Chapter I : Limpany : I | II | III | IV | V Chapter II: Diablo Ridge: I | II | III | IV | V Chapter III: Owanjila: I | II | III | IV | V | VI

➵Seven Deadly Sins

arthur morgan x f!reader, explicit, complete

Because if one thing is true, it is that Arthur Morgan is a sinner. Pure, organic, non-GMO smut. Someone catches feelings along the way.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Drabbles/One-Shots

on ao3 in an anthology titled "Voluptatem"

➵➵ arthur morgan x f!reader, explicit ➵➵

➵The Fine Art of Knot Tying I, II, III ➵In the French Way I, II ➵Gone Fishin' ➵Barely Hidden ➵NSFW Alphabet ➵Virtuous ➵Convalescence ➵Regret Me Not ➵In Sickness ➵Cleanliness and Godliness ➵Painted Ribbons ➵Anything You Can Do  ➵Learning the Hard Way ➵Accounting and Other Arts ➵Caught ➵To Name a Vista ➵Pain Relief ➵Defying Conventions (ABO) ➵Mirror Image ➵Cartography ➵ Lookin' for Trouble ➵ Snowbound ➵ My Love and I Did Meet ➵ Stance ➵ Holy ➵ Ache ➵ Softness ➵ Bloodied ➵ Ladylike ➵ I can't lose you ➵ Morning Light ➵ Already Gone ➵ Useless ➵ Marked ➵Chasing Waterfalls ➵ Seething ➵ If At First ➵ Fortitude ➵ Of Many Talents ➵ Sunkissed ➵ Bare ➵ Thank God for Whiskey

[callofdudes]

141 + Alex + Farah + könig and three favourite video games headcanons ??

Ghost:

The duality of playing both Dead Space and Animal Crossing.

Anything horror, a good shooter from time to time but he's realistically more about getting his blood going through tension, dark corridors, and good scares.

But will also make Animal Crossing characters of him and you so you can have a little house.

Gaz:

The embodiment of shooters, or story incorporated games like Destiny 2 and Halo.

Loves immersive large worlds that are tailored to his DnD heart. Elden Ring and Baldur's Gate are ones dear to his heart Also loves the online features.

Will play Mario Kart against Soap for hours.

Soap:

Similar to Gaz, he enjoys a blend of shooters and fantasy incorporated stories. Although Elden Ring frustrated him more than anything.

God of War Ragnarok, Diablo IV and the likes. Plays his fair share of Grand Theft Auto. Burnout Revenge and other driving games.

Plays hardcore shooters and Fortnite with his sisters back home.

Price:

Tetris. No, not because I think this 37 year old is extremely old, but because Price understands that Tetris was and still is the foundation of everything good videogames are.

Also of the opinion that he played 2007s BioShock, Diablo II, and Wii sports. Oh, also Red Dead Redemption.

Alex:

Right off the bat, he was a Mario Kart kid, was raised on the LoZ (Legend of Zelda) games, and they all hold places in his heart. Also had a Wii and early version Xbox. Played Tony Hawk's Pro Skater.

Indulged in Grand Theft Auto at one time but never stole anything. He just slapped people and drove cars at ridiculous speeds for hours. Which leads me to my next point, racing games. TDU2 is one near and dear to his heart.

Farah:

If Farah were to play any game I think she'd enjoy a combination of puzzle games and action. She's as much a fan of online chess as she is of Skyrim.

Since getting into Skyrim she has tried other games like Fallout, but some of the themes have made her less open to playing.

Plays the HTTYD 2 game from 2010 and she enjoys it. She likes flying around and exploring, it's calming.

She joins Animal Crossing and Ghost makes a new island so they can cause absolute chaos together, and they both love it and bond over it.

König:

I'm so serious when I say this. Angry Birds Epic. Also played Far Cry when it came out. A lot of the games he played came from Germany based companies. (I know he doesn't live in Germany before y'all bite me)

He also played Battle Isle 2200 and Panzer General from 1994. Lots of older tactics games like that.

[bluelotuswrites]

Hellblazer's Apprentice Playlist

We gotta get one for every one of my fic series :)

To Live Forever- Rik Scaffer

Let Me Live/Let Me Die- Des Rocs

Poinsettia- Rik Schaffer

Supernatural- Barns Country

Dead Man's Party- Oingo Boingo

Desert Orchid- Hackberry

Farewell to Arm- The Smyrk

The End of Jason Todd- The Smyrk

House of the Rising Sun- Heavy Young Heathens

Raise a Little Hell- Bonne & Clyde Musical Track

Houdini- Dua Lipa

Play With Fire- Sam Tinnesz

Voodoo mon amour- Diablo Swing Orchestra

Hayloft I & II- Mother Mother

Anti-Hero- SEKAI NO OWARI

Love From the Other Side- Fall Out Boy

Glitter & Gold- Barns Country

Who Are You, Really?- Mikky Echo

Absinthe- IDKHBTFM

ZITTI E BUONI- Måneskin

Magic- Mick Smiley

Necromancin Dancin- Bear Ghost

Flesh 'N Blood- Oingo Boingo

Arsonist's Lullabye- Hozier

Far From Home (The Raven)- Sam Tinnesz

Hell's Comin' With Me- Poor Mans Poison

Uma Thurman- Fall Out Boy

Black Hole Sun- Soundgarden

Limbo- Royal Blood

Afterlife- Avenged Sevenfold

Cracker Island- Gorillaz

Bones- Imagine Dragons

West Coast Smoker- Fall Out Boy

Not Human- Elegant Slims

Necromancin Dancin- Bear Ghost

Lose Control- Teddy Swims

Too Sweet- Hozier

Man With a Hex- The Atomic Fireballs

Do It All the Time- IDKHBTFM

Eyes Closed- Imagine Dragons

[pro-logue-epi-logue]

RANDOM DEVIL'S NIGHT THOUGHTS

~NUMBER 54~

Willemmy's photo album includes -

Cute date picture of them at the theater, at cove, definitely in the bus.

Emmy smiling her toothy smile (taken by will, they are like 100s)

Hot and Naked pictures of Emmy at their house,definitely inside the bus, the warehouse and the catacombs (also taken by will)

Will dancing, being goofy,smiling, and visiting Emmy (taken by Emmy)

Emmy super focused on work (taken by will) -So talented my little trouble (captioned by will)

Will's solo pictures when he is playing with the guys, specially those pictures where is is shirtless and hos biceps are showing.

Their proposal video.

Their second wedding ceremony video.

Emmy banking something for the family (taken by will)

Will doing random things that Emmy finds hot.

Will in the shower.

Smiling picture of Will (taken by Emmy) - that smile is my favorite (caption by Emmy)

Will and Diablo playing together (taken by emmy)

Movie still pictures that were taken inside the theater while watching movies.

A picture where willemmy are walking together hand in hand and Will is looking back at her (taken by Emmy) - I love him (caption by Emmy)

Emmy in Will's lap (taken by the gang) there are alot of these pictures.

Emmy and Will at the new gazeboo.

Emmy building something (taken by Will)

Willemmy at the beach.

1000s of pictures of each other on their phones.

Willemmy holding hands.

Emory's engagement ring (taken by Will and Emory) - she is wearing this ♥ 😍 (caption by will) - He saved this for my (caption by Emmy)

Will III and Will IV together, while II is on Will's shoulders (taken by Emmy) - My boys (caption by Emmy)

Will studying for his college exams at night (taken by emmy)

Some *coughs* special videos they made at the bus, because obviously, cove, theater, their bed amd whole house, catacombs, car,which their kids are not allowed to see.

Will in the gym (take by Emmy) - My Man ! (Caption by Emmy) - YES!!!!!!!! I AM YOUR MAN!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩😘😘😘😁😁😁😍😍😍 (Reply by Will)

[diabolocracy]

I'm gonna make this into its own separate post with some additions because fuck you I do what I want:

There are no 'fandoms made for children' just as there are no 'fandoms made for adults.' Fandom groups* and other such private congregations of like-minded fans can be and should be curated with age and content in mind, but whether you like it or not there are minors who are fans of adult media just as there are adults who are fans of kid's media.

Some parents parent differently and allow their children to consume media beyond their age group (and some parents are neglectful and don't care what their kid gets into). There are children who read smutty novels or play M-rated games or watch adult movies. I was one of them - I was hardcore into Diablo II but I had to have my dad buy it for me. I loved Hills Have Eyes (though the second one was admittedly awkward to watch with my dad LOL).

Those kids have the ability to create spaces for themselves and other fans with their own content rules and boundaries.

Some adults like kid's media as an escape. It's cutesy, unburdened by the bleakness of society at large (..mostly), something easy to digest. Maybe the story is actually good and more appealing/original than the five hundredth Marvel rehash. Some adults like kid's media because they're neurodivergent and have their own reasons whether it be cartoons appealing to them more than live action, mental age, or what-have-you.

Those adults have the ability to create spaces for themselves and other fans with their own content rules and boundaries.

😘

*Public tags aren't fandom groups. Sorry! Get yourself a Discord group or a forum. Then you can make your own rules for what content is allowed. Otherwise, you're going to see anything the parent site allows in the main tags - including NSFW and dead dove content if those things are allowed. Block the tags you don't want to see or create a group that you can moderate. It's that easy. Especially on tumblr. Just go into your settings and disable mature content. If someone doesn't use the mature content dropdown for their mature content post, flag it. Ta da! It reeeeeally is that easy!! 💃

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dionysus xii, m | jjk x ♂wiyllt x myg

pairing(s): jungkook x male wiyllt x yoongi — important: contains m/m pairing— male OC is male whatifyoulivelikethat aka me, the author ;)

summary: The following events are extremely gay. Jeon Jungkook puts himself in a dick 69 (and likes it). Min Yoongi puts himself in a maid outfit (kinda). Also, they share a boyfriend. Not that any of them are gonna admit that straight up. That would just be embarrassing. (They will in their head though, heh.)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; important! male OC and Yoongi are pansexual and Jungkook is bisexual; I'm warning you: everyone's dick is out; in love and none of them will admit it out loud, classic; JK is a lil insecure and gets his reassurance ofc; Yoongi is just a slut kidding but also not; domestic, tbh; D/s smut (hyung kink, praise kink, spit kink, mild restraints, 69, choking, m-masturbation, cumming on each other, cum eating, crossdressing - maid Yoongi + leather body harness + butt plug, pain kink, m-receiving oral, edging, handjob, hair pulling, unprotected anal sex, cowgirl (cowboy? eh, you get it), missionary anal, creampie); non-idol!BTS - sub!Jungkook x dom!male OC x sub!Yoongi; switches between Yoongi’s POV and JK's POV; for the few people who read this series, um, why? my male self has dirty, filthy sex, smh

-

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi

--

“Fuck me. I’m so damn tired of humanity. Does no one have a backbone or ears these days? I don’t get paid enough. Ugh. Patience is a virtue and all that shit. Fuck virtue. I’ve used my last fuck and I just want a damn nap. What about you? You’ve been sitting here all day. I know, aren’t you much comfier since I put you back in the couch?”

Min Yoongi cocked his head.

Commotion? Checked the time. Oh, shit. Did that many hours fly by? He removed the headset from his ears and stood up. Fluttering RBG lighting tried to call him back to the white desktop, but instead he headed to cracked-open bedroom door, past dark gray sheets and a folded black blanket that weren’t his. Yoongi had, however, made the bed. Simply because he had seen the mess.

“I know, bro. You’ve been with me too long to be dumped on the floor like that.”

Yoongi pressed two fingers to the door and pushed it open a little more, craning his head and giving himself a clear view of the living room.

He saw a head of black hair, naked broad shoulders, and a deep scarlet dress shirt halfway off.

what if you

“I’d talk to Jungkook but that guy doesn’t listen to me.”

He could only see half of the back tattoo.

He called out.

“Why are you stripping for the giant plush bear?”

The black hair whipped in a sharp arc, exposing white gold earrings and angular jaw, followed by dark, dark eyes and plush mauve lips in a soft ‘o’ shape. The dress shirt slid down, caught by a flighty hand, but Yoongi didn’t need to see the rest of the tattoo. He knew exactly what it said. He had, after all, run his fingers over it and kissed each letter for many nights.

And that chest.

Fuck, he wanted to make out with it.

The man known to many as Dionysus, but to Yoongi by given name, gawked at him.

“How long you have you been here?” the other male sputtered.

Yoongi caught himself smiling. He usually hated that but, in this case, it added to the teasing. He wasn’t given many chances to tease when it came to his favorite person so Yoongi made sure to take every chance he got. “Couple hours. I wasn’t getting anywhere in the studio today so I figured I would take a break and play Diablo. You said I could use your setup.” He made sure to keep his voice very calm and even despite wanting to burst into laughter.

Those impossibly dark eyes shifted from side to side very rapidly. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Since you started talking to the bear.” It wasn’t true but Yoongi wasn’t above lying when it was for his own amusement. One more sin to add to his already hefty list.

The other man made a pained expression and threw his dress shirt onto the black leather couch. It wasn’t aimed to be sexual but Yoongi appreciated what he was seeing all the same. “Great.” Ah, he really did it enjoy the way irritation made that familiar husky voice even deeper. “Now you think I’m even crazier than I already am because I talk to my plushies. I’ll have you know Mr. Bear has seen some shit.”

“Is that his name?”

“Not really. He doesn’t have a name. I just use him as a backrest when I’m alone and watching television.”

Somehow Yoongi found himself a bit jealous of the two-meter-tall café-au-lait-colored plush bear sitting floppily on the couch. It looked back at him with a partway-open stitched smile. Don’t look at me like that. I won’t say anything when Jungkook inevitably dumps you on the ground again, Yoongi thought to the bear.

The bear, understandably, continued smiling.

Ominous.

The currently shirtless man was going through his black leather briefcase with an annoyed click of his tongue, muttering something along the lines of, “Don’t you fucking tell me that I lost my hair tie too, for fuck’s sake,” with dark waves of black falling past his cheeks. It was longer than how he usually had it, huh? The sides had been shaved as usual, but it seemed that he had left it longer this time, similarly to how Yoongi had his hair now.

Speaking of.

Yoongi carefully tugged the black hair tie out of his hair and put it in the pocket of the sweatpants.

For no reason at all.

The rest of his black hair fell around his neck, the curtain bangs wisping against his cheeks. A step closer to the coffee table, and the other male looked up, defeated, and was about to say something, mauve lips parting and all, giving Yoongi about two seconds to fully appreciate those decadent prominent collarbones and dark nipples and crisp black slacks clinging to delicious hips.

Then the front door burst open.

“Yo, hyung!”

Yoongi twitched in annoyance.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

Really? As if surprise was needed. Actually, that tone was probably more akin to seeing an unexpected visitor. Jeon Jungkook had a one-track mind. He also hardly used honorifics – except when he wanted to make it very clear that he was the youngest and seeking attention right now. Now Jungkook closed the door.

“Whoa! You’re naked! Wait. Why are you naked? And in front of Yoongi-hyung? That’s not fair!”

Yoongi stuck his tongue in his cheek and turned to see the doe-eyed, playfully pleading expression of Jeon Jungkook. His black hair was a little shorter now, but neatly parted for once. Surprisingly, he had yet another piercing on the right side of his lip. Half of his arm tattoos were exposed and there was the shadow of the full sleeve under the baggy black t-shirt. Those slate-blue jeans were so shredded that Yoongi was surprised that the denim was still holding on. There was so much leg showing that Jungkook might as well have worn shorts. Or nothing.

“I literally just got home. I was going to change.”

Instant complaint from the younger man. “Why? You look better like that.”

Yoongi felt the directness of those dark, dark eyes asking to provide some confirmational logic. He avoided them and said nothing, staring at the wall next to Jungkook’s head instead. Was that framed print of Jhin from League of Legends always there? Huh.

“I can’t stay naked.”

“You always say that, but you’re wrong,” Jungkook protested, kicking off his sneakers and pushing them against Yoongi’s as he crossed over.

“Don’t tell me you came here to get me to make you dinner again.”

“But, hyung–”

“I was going to make dinner,” Yoongi cut in. “I found black sea bass on sale.”

“I can’t make you cook in my own home,” that deep sigh replied, gazing at him under soft black tresses while one arm was outstretched and holding Jungkook’s chest back. True to his nature, Jungkook flailed about and played along. “I’ll change and help you.”

Oh, really now.

“Your home?”

Yoongi glanced at Jungkook and back to those dark, dark eyes, openly smirking.

“It’s our home now.”

-

“Is there any fantasy you’ve always wanted but never got to do?”

“Me?” The folding of laundry paused as those dark eyebrows knitted in confusion. “My horny ass? Yoongi, come on. You think I wouldn’t attempt the literal second I had a plausible impulse?”

Hmm. That wasn’t really the answer Min Yoongi wanted. He reached over to try and help but had the back of his hand promptly smacked away once again. He didn’t like feeling useless, but the man who called himself Dionysus at times might have a control problem. Or, rather, with one glance to those dark, dark eyes, he may be feeling a bit guilty still about Yoongi doing random housework as he saw fit.

But that was how Yoongi showed…

Anyway.

With how much time he was spending over here, Yoongi figured he might as well. He didn’t like a messy environment either. Three guys spending too much time in one small apartment were bound to get out of control if they didn’t all work together to keep the place clean.

Still, his host was not letting him get into his business (just his mouth and occasionally his asshole, heh). At least when he was home. Therefore, Yoongi had attempted to distract. And failed, but he knew he would. He still wanted to know though. Mostly because he wanted to be special.

He didn’t just think that.

Ahem.

“Do you mean you only attempt to do things that you know the other person will say yes to, or have you actually tried everything you want to do?”

The other male made a neat stack of folded boxer briefs and frowned. His dark hair curled over his forehead in the most delicious, rolled-out-of-bed way. Mmmm. “Well, no one can try everything. I can’t grow tits to try tit-fucking or switch to a vagina to try triple penetration. Sigh.”

Yoongi jerked his head back. “What?”

“I would have to try and find three guys who can stand to see each other naked and that’s a stretch considering you’re still weird around Jungkook,” he continued, opening dresser drawers to put articles of clothing in their respective places. “Which you never have to get used to, by the way. I am only giving an example.”

“I’m fine with seeing him naked.”

Side eye.

Yoongi shrugged, acknowledging he said that a bit too quickly. “He’s usually without a shirt in your apartment.”

“He’s not the most subtle,” the other man agreed.

A short silence. Yoongi found he enjoyed watching him doing such home tasks. When the taller male got dressed for work, he usually wore tailored pieces such as dress shirts and pants. But at home he wore a loose black t-shirt with a graphic of a grim reaper watching television and fitted track pants from the professional League of Legends team T1. Simple, but showed off his slightly eccentric personality. It was a step down from when he dressed to go out where he tended to be much sexier. This type of comfort meant that they were close.

Well, they were also fucking, but Yoongi knew this was different than the physicality of it all.

“What about crossdressing?”

“What?”

Yoongi looked up and found dark, dark eyes staring at him, hands frozen in mid-action.

“Me? I don’t own highly feminine clothing currently, but I guess I could find something…”

“No,” Yoongi corrected. “Me. Cross-dress for you. I know you don’t only like men.”

A sudden thrill coursed through him upon seeing the intrigued expression. He maintained his casual, calm demeanor. His boyfriend still hadn’t moved, not a centimeter, but was instead surveying him curiously, as if he was trying to figure out the seriousness of the suggestion.

“You don’t only like men,” the deep voice countered.

“That doesn’t answer the question of whether or not you would be turned on if I wore more feminine clothing.” Yoongi paused for effect. He, too, could be enticing when he wanted to. “If you want to fuck me in a skirt or dress.”

This was supposed to be a shocking kinky proposal but it was backfiring slightly. Yoongi lifted his thighs slightly and thanked his past self for wearing these baggier sweatpants. He shrugged as leisurely as he could.

“You know, bend me over and violate me.”

Those plush mauve lips parted.

“Could be fun.”

Ever quick and always witty response. “Is that why you grew your hair out?”

Yoongi almost snorted. At least his dick stopped perking up. “No. Come to think of it, helps though.”

An open-mouthed smirk.

“And here I thought you were only a musical genius, but you continue to amaze me.”

-

Past Jeon Jungkook would have never predicted that he would also be deep throating dick when partaking in a sixty-nine, but life had a strange way of making the impossible possible. He probably would have predicted being in handcuffs at the same time though. His porn history was quite telling even if he hadn’t yet had the guts to explore it back then.

If he had thought he couldn’t breathe that well with pussy in his face, well, now Jungkook was beginning to appreciate what other women had done for him in the past when he was the one on top.

This was a lot more difficult than he thought.

Not that he had much time to think about it. Currently, Jungkook was struggling to focus on sucking dick because there was too much going on between his legs. Large hands gripping his tense thighs and pinning them down. Wet. Tongue roughly sliding down the topside of his cock while the underside rubbed against the roof of that talented mouth, the back of that throat squeezing the head with every descent. Tight. He could even feel the measured, warm breath against his balls every time he was swallowed, adding winding sparks to the constant rollercoaster of pleasure. Hot. Jungkook was embarrassed to feel that he was only able to get three-fourths of that hard length into his own mouth but he blamed it on the angle.

His wrists were handcuffed together, but Jungkook could still reach up and run his fingertips over the other male’s lower torso, aching to touch skin on skin.

Well, he had a whole dick down his throat, but you know what he means.

The one above him shifted and the hips rose, giving him some breathing room. Then slowly descended, pressing deep into his throat and mildly suffocating him with his balls. Not that Jungkook minded at this point because the mouth was tightening, changing the expanse of sensation to all over his length, the tongue spreading out and curling around his girth. Little flicks of wet muscle building the ecstasy, heightening the impending apex, making his core tense and his eyes roll up into his head as his hyung thrust slowly into his mouth, using him like the hole he always wanted to be. He did feel bad, just laying there as the other man fucked his throat and sucked him off.

Strong fingers dug into his thighs, hopefully leaving bruises.

He did feel a little guilty.

Mostly, though, Jungkook was so far gone that he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Dionysus.

It really was a fitting alias for someone so excessive.

A deep chuckle resonated around his jerking, shivering cock, bleeding into the blinding haze of orgasm, sending another wave soaring through him. Slight shame, sure, but mostly pride at hearing the clear satisfaction. He could feel it too, the swallowing and the hands that gripped his shaking inner thighs, kneading his flesh. Those full lips floated around the base of the still-engorged head of his cock, rubbing back and forth. Fuck. Fuck, it was hard to explain. A suspension of sensation, not the fleeting high of release but a constant bliss that made him want to cry.

Fuuuuuuuck.

The hips rose. Hard, wet cock fell out of his mouth, slapping him in the face and smearing his own spit on his lips and cheek. He gasped, choking on his own saliva, moaning deeper when that mouth went down on him again, keeping him hard, coaxing his want. Jungkook didn’t care. He didn’t care what was right or wrong. Didn’t care what was happening, even as fingers laced around his slippery balls and locked them in a cage. Didn’t care, reaching up and grazing his fingertips over that dripping length, pressing it to his cheek and rubbing it against his jaw. His saliva stuck to his face. His neck. Whimpers bubbling in his chest as nails scratched down his inner thigh, forcing him to spread his legs open more.

The mouth retreated.

And then tongue cupped around his balls, teeth nicking, leaving him a gasping mess of whines as it travelled all over accompanied by a palm closing in around the throbbing head of his cock, gliding saliva over the sensitive skin.

His entire body tensed, succumbing to the wicked rush of sparks and arousal spreading all over.

“Heh, let me get off you,” the husky voice above him mused.

Jungkook had a fleeting thought of, no, crush me, but then it was flood of air and light invading his senses. Ack! He recoiled into the pillows even though it wasn’t even that bright. Just RGB lighting from the computer and the ghost-shaped lamp on the nightstand still aglow. Didn’t matter though, because now he had to face…

Dark, dark eyes looked down at him.

Paired with an amused smirk.

Jungkook wanted to hide behind his hands but they were handcuffed together. He couldn’t exactly be super subtle brushing back his sweaty hair or anything. The other male continued watching him, his black hair curling around his left cheek and ear. Jungkook found himself staring at those shoulder lines and collarbones, finding himself a bit jealous of the natural beauty of them.

The other male leaned down.

Expression dangerous.

“H… Hyung…?”

“Hm?”

Then Jungkook yelped as he felt his right leg was raised, pressed against the other man’s chest. He briefly hated himself for not working on flexibility more, but then Jungkook has no more room to think as his boyfriend’s left hand wrapped around his throat, that smirk turning wicked.

Wait.

His what?

Jungkook choked and it wasn’t because of the hand around his neck.

“Look at you,” that hazy, low voice continued. “How cute.”

He suddenly became vaguely aware that the deep breathing and sound of hand on flesh was not him, but the older male jacking himself off right above Jungkook’s aching, untouched length. Hey! But he couldn’t say it, whimpering, inhale shorting when the hold around his throat tightened, cutting off more blood. His brain felt fuzzy, his tongue thick and unmovable.

“H-Hyung, please…”

“Please what, my darling?”

He couldn’t feel the pre-cum wasn’t leaking all over his inner thigh right now but Jungkook was pretty damn sure it was happening, and his cheeks were heating up, burning, my darling, sputtering, unable to say anything to the rhythmic slapping sound and calm sighs of physical pleasure. He could feel the cool metal on his skin as he crawled his hands down, down.

Fingertips brushing against dried spit and cum.

“Can I… Can I touch myself, p... please, hyung?”

Jungkook could see that self-satisfied smile through his blurred vision and it made his heart race faster, made his core coil tighter, made his mind slip deeper, deeper into service.

“Of course. Such a good boy for asking.”

Maybe he should have been afraid on how easy it was, afraid of how willing he was to fall into this depravity and be this vulnerable, afraid of how that little praise made him lose his mind, but Jungkook couldn’t think about anything. He could only feel. Feel his thoughts bleed out with the lack of blood. Feel his arousal spiking when he touched himself, stroking his length below that moving hand. Feel the whine escaping him as he teased the swollen head of his cock, rubbing his thumb over the thin skin. Blood rushing, muscles twitching, his legs pinned open by another man’s body, and the man who called himself Dionysus when he wanted to be in the shadows grinned at him, like the devil, bringing him unbreakable heaven amidst all this sin.

“You want me to cum on you?” the other man teased, running his index finger over Jungkook’s jaw as he choked him. “Want me all over your pretty cock so you can get off using my cum as lube?”

Jungkook could only moan in affirmation, both because he was being choked and because he couldn’t think straight – as expected with this dick-on-dick action – at such an obscene, arousing suggestion, excitement and exhilaration burning his veins as he saw the tension ripple across his hyung’s chest, jaw tightening, dark eyes darker, biting his lower lip hard.

Messy black hair was hanging down.

The only foreshadowing was one of his eyebrows cocking deviously.

Then Jungkook gasped as the other male leaned forward and shot hot strings all over his hands, his cock, his burning skin, his eyes rolling back as he felt the thick head press down on his shaft and dribble cum down in a painted streak. The grip on his throat loosened, shooting him into a different rise, oxygen swarming into his lungs. His vision reeled, blurry. Controlled, calm exhales washing onto his shaking chest. No remorse. His gaze snapped back, feeling the twitching head burying into his balls, staining them with orgasm.

Those dark, dark eyes dared him.

“Go on. Your turn.”

Couldn’t look away.

Locked gazes, mouth open, gasping for air, gripping himself tightly. No, tighter. The whimpers growing in his throat, jacking himself off hard and fast, pushing for the climax, couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop himself, slippery, wet, drenched in the heavy scent of sex and the cologne of green tea and marshmallow, herbal and warm, drowning, so good, s-spit on me, hyung, and that little smirk before he did. The splat so visceral, all over his punishing grip and sliding over the pulsing head of his cock, glistening purple-red, and Jungkook threw his head back, unable to look anymore, the hot flush of his cheeks spreading all over, guilty, guilty of being in love.

He came all over his hands and stomach, gasping out that forbidden name.

“Mmmm…”

The hand on his neck left him cold.

His right leg fell, no longer suspended in the air.

Darkness.

Each breath rattling his lungs. His nerves still singing. Movement, but Jungkook didn’t dare open his eyes to know. Then he sucked in a breath, feeling a soft, warm tongue lick around his fingers. His palms. His cock. His crotch. Sucking up the mixture of their cum and spit, feathering kisses and hot breath over his tingling skin.

Oh…

The sweetness was killing him.

My darling.

Jungkook was pretty sure he was insane and making up everything in his head. He didn’t want to do anything but feel this moment. Hands slipped under his. Sticky, wet, and yet those fingertips traced his palms, laying them down against his abs as that mouth kissed up and down his cock, small licks curling around to flick his balls gently. He wasn’t even hard.

It felt so good.

So good.

He didn’t try to fight it. Couldn’t even if he wanted to. Jungkook let himself get lifted, the forearm against his lower back, kisses up his trembling chest, and then those dark, dark eyes observing him under shadowy lashes, amused. Those plush lips grazed Jungkook’s two lip piercings.

“You gonna get up, lazy bones?”

Jungkook made a noise of disagreement.

He had to be forced to clean up, but secretly (or not-so-secretly) Jungkook enjoyed that.

Hehe.

Apparently, he had tugged on the handcuffs a little too much because there was an indent left on the back of his wrists when they were removed. Oops. He hadn’t meant to do that. He didn’t want to get scolded, so he kept his wrists out of sight the best he could so his hyung wouldn’t notice. He received a silent side-eye, but no comment. Warning him to be careful but not wanting to make it a nagging. His hyung always warned him not to overdo it. Jungkook just… got lost in the moment.

Often.

Ahem.

Anyway.

“You okay?”

“Uh?”

It was hard to describe the feeling he got when Jungkook looked up to the other man. Maybe embarrassed, feeling disheveled compared to the confident spark in those dark, dark eyes surveying him with amusement. Maybe confused at the butterflies dancing in his chest, envious that the older male seemed so calm shirtless, messy hair, black boxer briefs, drying his hands on a towel before tossing it onto his shoulder like a goddamn movie main character. Maybe…

Those mauve lips curved into a smile.

Jungkook couldn’t define in words what love was, but love was definitely the feeling he felt in this moment, witnessing that smile.

“Did you enjoy that? Anything you didn’t?”

“O… Oh?” It finally clicked in his brain what was being asked. His cheeks seared with warmth. “Um…?!”

Instead of sitting beside him, the man who called himself Dionysus at times smiled wider, giving him the appearance of an endearing trickster. He remained standing in front of Jungkook sitting on the side of the bed. Too close to be mistaken as friends. “I thought I did a pretty good job. You came harder than usual, or what it because I was watching you this time? Guess I can’t tell if I’m too busy swallowing, hm?” Why was he talking about this so calmly? But there was nowhere to run either, caught between a piercing gaze and devious smirk, graceful fingers fanned over one hip like an underwear model.

“I… w-wha… hyung was amazing, I–”

And then Jungkook froze.

Words dead in his throat.

That was right.

Me.

The other man bent down and brushed hair out of his vision, but Jungkook was freezing up. Right. Now that the adrenaline was gone, the scent of green tea and marshmallow was as comforting as it was a remainder. Hyung is amazing. Every time, without fail, thinking about every touch and every kiss and Jungkook was only along for the ride.

“Was… Was I okay, hyung?”

“Hm?” Movement, and Jungkook shifted his gaze to see that familiar head tilt teasing him. “What do you mean, were you okay? Did I not show my appreciation well?” A fingertip traced across his cheek.

Chills shimmering all over his shoulders and yet.

“But you only came once.”

A light chuckle. “Uh huh.”

Jungkook felt his vision blur. Shit. Why was he getting teary? He blinked hard, biting his lower lip tensely, the swift pain fighting back the tears. The other man noticed immediately. Of course, he did. He knew everything about everyone. He could read body language like a children’s book, and Jungkook was simply not on that level.

“You didn’t cum in my mouth…” he mumbled, looking away, ashamed. “I’m not good enough.”

“Hah?”

Jungkook had been trying not to think about it too much. Everything was already complicated, from how they met to the not-so-straight sexual relationship to the pit-a-pat feeling in his chest at wanting to be called my darling over and over again, but certain rain-cloud thoughts had been persistent, overshadowing everything else. The feeling of not good enough. When it had only been their isolated interactions, Jungkook didn’t think about how the other male slept with other people. Honestly, Jungkook didn’t even care since it was so obvious his hyung made him a priority.

But then there was Min Yoongi.

Watching them together was just…

“Hey.”

He felt hands on his shoulders, but Jungkook shut his eyes, shaking his head quickly, the whirlwind thoughts pouring through him. He had no right to be upset. No place to make demands, no idea what were the right words to say, no, he needed to shut up and appreciate that he could even be in this position. “I’m sorry, I’ll try harder next time, I’m sor–”

“Stop saying silly things.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice choked up, cracking in his chest. “I can do better.”

Thwack.

“Ow!”

A sharp pain shot over his forehead. It took Jungkook a moment to realize he had been flicked. His eyes snapped open, snapping his head up to gawk, slack-jawed. The older man looked annoyed, looking down at him with a hand still on Jungkook’s right shoulder. He lowered his right hand, shaking his head with a sigh, wave of black hair drifting over his left eye.

“Jungkook, please, can you listen to me for once in your life?”

Rubbing his forehead with his left hand. Less ow but still ow. “What?” Didn’t he listen pretty well? Er, sometimes. But hyung liked the bratty thing!

“You really think I give a shit about quantity over quality?” Even being scolded in that husky voice wasn’t that bad. Those dark, dark eyes narrowed and Jungkook instinctively felt his spine stiffen. Ahem. Right. Listening. “Bro, I’m not keeping count. Every once in a while, I like to discuss about how the sex was and what you liked about it. Me, I don’t stop unless I’m satisfied. It isn’t the number of orgasms or what exactly happens that is the satisfying part for me. The satisfying part is you.”

“But if I was better… wait, what?”

You.

Jungkook pointed to himself, eyes widening. “Me?”

Eye roll. “Yeah, you, idiot.”

And then that face was close, suddenly dropping down. Green tea. Marshmallow. Herbal and warm. Soft black hair, even darker eyes, plush mauve lips in a small smirk. The shine in that gaze, the solidness of that hand on his shoulder, and that expression absolutely not having any of Jungkook’s bullshit.

“I chose you.”

Pause.

Half-smile.

“Is this about Yoongi?”

Jungkook found he couldn’t say anything but he didn’t have to.

Silence was telling.

His hyung nodded. “Whether it is or not. Whether you believe me or not… I’m not comparing. I don’t compare you to him or anyone else. I don’t like people near me. I don’t like doing things I don’t like doing. But I like being near you. I like learning the things you like and I like doing them for you. Are there things you do that aggravate me? Yeah, like this stubbornness you have about not telling me what’s bothering you sooner so I can set you straight. But I chose you. I’m stubborn too, and you’re not going to change my mind.”

Closing the distance.

His left hand slipped away and now they were forehead to forehead, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I… I can do better for you…” Jungkook whispered to the darkness.

 “You’re already loads better than the first time. Couple more loads and we’ll reevaluate.”

“Hey!”

The darkness sparkled.

The pause that followed, not uncomfortable but substantial.

A fleeting kiss and lingering words.

“You’re mine. And don’t you forget it.”

-

“Do you need help in there?”

“No. Shut up.”

Did he have to pull up the listing on his phone to figure out the strap situation? Yeah, maybe. Perhaps he shouldn’t wear the harness? Well, he had already gotten it halfway on. Sigh. Okay, zip this up, straighten this out, lace up these hook-and-eyes, turn it around, put the damn frilly ass apron on, and…

Min Yoongi looked at himself in the mirror.

What the fuck am I doing?

He couldn’t walk out like this.

It had been a stupid idea and now the stupid had gone too far. Was all this really worth the bit? Fuck, he couldn’t even look himself in the eye. Yoongi spied the white ruffled headband by the sink and crammed it on. Ack. Pulled it off and readjusted the front of his black hair to frame his face and then rest the headband behind. Should he tie his hair back? He reached up and collected some of his hair back. It didn’t give a “pretty” look. He left it down, pulling more of it forward. Smoothed out the mid-thigh length black skirt. It was made of a thicker material that had more body and swish to it. He hadn’t liked any of the cheap costume options when he searched around, so instead Yoongi had selected clothing pieces that matched and made his own outfit.

Flowy white blouse with a high collar and large black velvet bow.

Fitted black corset over it.

Black skirt with the added touch of a white ruffled apron and sheer black thigh-highs.

And, under it all, a surprise.

He had thought about buying an easy costume. Trashy and slutty and fuckable. He had even looked into the latex options but reading up on the meticulous preparation and the sweaty aftermath (and the smell, ew), uh, nah. Besides, if he other male had done as he asked, with the silver rings and all, Yoongi would have felt silly in a costume. No, he wanted it to be obvious that some thought had been put into this. He had wanted it to be a conscious effort.

Okay, and also Yoongi wanted to look somewhat hot.

He wanted to be able to pick styles that looked good on him, not throw on some poorly-made get-up. Not that he knew if this was a sexy outfit or not. He didn’t mind seeing himself in a more feminine silhouette. Dare he say his slender frame worked in his favor here? Well, anyway, it was more the implications of why he was wearing it. And what he was going to do in it.

Um.

Should he have brought makeup? Shit.

You’re stalling.

“Shut up,” Yoongi mumbled under his breath, snatching his cologne from the counter and dousing his neck. Who cared about makeup? He was still a man. He was only wearing different clothes that he usually did. Yoongi was just trying a different look. His boyfriend didn’t want a different person.

His.

What?

Yoongi abruptly spun around and yanked open the bathroom door. His face felt like it was on fire.

“Oh, good, I was beginning to think you fell in the toilet–”

Dead silence.

Damn, the man who sometimes called himself Dionysus looked good. Sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread open. Dressier than usual, just as Yoongi had asked. Black slacks. Black brocade dress shirt with embroidered white flowers. Pressed, fitted black vest. Long fingers spread out on the bed, each one adorned with sterling silver rings. Black hair swept to the left, longer than usual, brushing against his jaw, exposing his right ear and the thin silver chain connecting one of the helix piercings to the lobe.

Yoongi managed to push his hand away from the doorframe, breathing out slowly.

“Hello… Master.”

The other man was malfunctioning.

“H… Hah?”

Staring at him with a stunned look. Wide eyes and slack jaw included. It actually helped Yoongi stand a little straighter and relax a little bit. At least he wasn’t being laughed at. He frowned and held onto his left elbow with this right hand, unsure what to do now. The pressure of his right forearm over his corseted waist helped ease the nervousness a bit.

He didn’t plan a whole maid roleplay or anything.

The other male sat up attentively. “You didn’t say it was a maid outfit.”

“Well.” Yoongi looked away, feeling his cheeks flush hotter. “It is the most classic S-and-M costume, right?”

“Hmmmm, I’ve never seen this set before. Did you pick the pieces individually and plan the outfit?”

Weird that he noticed so fast. But nice. “Y… Yeah…”

“Oh? How thoughtful.”

Ack, what was this? Yoongi was suddenly hyperaware of the air between his legs and the effect of words. And tone. And… shit. He was doing that thing. He let go of his arm and stuck his hands by his thighs, hiding his balled-up fists in the swish of the skirt. He didn’t notice that the other man was standing right in front of him until it was too late, freezing up as the shadow appeared. Snapping his head up to a familiar smirk on mauve lips, sparkling dark orbs watching his every move with amusement.

“How do you feel?”

Like my ribcage is gonna explode! Just fuck me so I don’t have to say anything!

“F-Fine.”

Racing sparks shot up his spine as an exploring fingertip traced his chin. Yoongi realized he had gotten used to the stripped-down version of his lover. He had gotten used to the t-shirts, the comfy pants, the lack of rings, the messy hair, and the natural sexiness of every move. The other man was mindful of how he held himself, but at home there wasn’t an air of showmanship nor a sharp outfit to hide behind. He didn’t believe in giving it all away at once. After all, this was a man who chose an alias for most of the general public to address him.

But.

Yoongi could tell right away when people were perfectly comfortable in their appearance reflecting who they were inside. He was witnessing it right now. Those fingertips slid down his neck, caressing the velvet bow. Their eyes locked. Darkness to anticipation. Their colognes mixed together at their close proximity. His, citrus, sharp, dark. Melding with green tea, marshmallow, and intoxication.

They called him Dionysus.

But Yoongi called him…

“What did you call me again?”

Love.

“Master.”

A half-smile. “You’re taking this pretty seriously, hm?”

Instead of his usual witty response, Yoongi remained calm, aiming to shift the mood into their respective headspaces.

“I always take serving you seriously, Master.”

The playful expression remained, but the air was different now. Hotter. The taller male raised his hands, backing off slightly, looking up and down unashamedly. It was less objectifying than it was a detailed overview.

“You look good in a skirt.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Raised eyebrow.

Yoongi shrugged. “My legs are as nice as any girl group member. Nicer, even.”

A mirthful laugh. Movement. He was unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt and rolling them back, exposing his wrists and forearms. A heavy silver chain bracelet on his left wrist. “I do like your legs wrapped around me, so maybe you’re onto something.” There was a peek of silver chain around his neck too. That’s right. He had shown Yoongi a necklace he had purchased recently, a heavy sterling silver pendant that could hold a guitar pick, so, naturally.

He had asked for one of Yoongi’s.

“W-What are you doing?”

Small smirk. “Preparing.”

“For what?” he snapped back. Yoongi hadn’t meant his voice to bristle but what how the hell was he supposed to react? He was in a skirt, for fuck’s sake! And an apron! And a damn frilly headband and they were going to–

He froze as a heavily ringed hand gripped his chin.

Insatiable dark, dark eyes.

“For you.”

He couldn’t move as that head tilted, smirk turning into the grin of a devil, and then those lips were on his. Dangerously soft and to the pattern of a pulse, keeping an infuriating distance between them. Yoongi felt himself reach up, but another hand stopped him, tight grip around his wrist, silver rings cutting into his skin and making him gasp. The hand on his chin slipped away, stalking around his shoulder and around his neck, pressing his trapped hand against his chest.

His body tensed.

The leather harness cut into his torso. A breath too tight.

He whimpered into the kiss.

A pause.

Yoongi could feel the taller male staring at him but he didn’t dare open his eyes.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” he muttered immediately.

“No as in yes or no as in I’m not supposed to know yet?” the gentle, stern voice pressed.

Yoongi opened his eyes slowly, not making eye contact but appreciating the shape of those perfect lips instead.

“No as in shut the fuck up and let me do my job.”

He glanced up with a glare.

Playful amusement and deliciously intrigued.

“You know, you’re a really bossy maid.”

Yeah, well, Yoongi couldn’t bring himself do the whole helpless schtick they did in porn movies because that shit would be way too embarrassing, not to mention not his personality at all. Besides, Yoongi knew him well enough. There was no fun in dominating a helpless creature. No satisfaction unless there was resistance.

Also, his boyfriend was obsessed with Jungkook, so he must love fucking a freaking annoying brat.

“And you’re not going anywhere dressed like that,” Yoongi snapped, lifting his hands towards the vest.

Only to get slapped away.

“Oh? Why not?”

Bro, do you wanna fuck or what? He tried not to let his frustration show. “Then where would you be going?” Okay, fine, he would play along. For now.

Casual shrug. “A date.”

Are you serious? His annoyance must have shown, because that relaxed expression became subtly arrogant. “Why would you need to go on a date–” When I’m literally right here! The fuck I put all this on for?!

“Are you implying that I don’t need someone else to touch me?”

Hook, line, sinker.

Yoongi gawked at him, dumbstruck.

The other male raised a finger and toyed with the edge of the velvet bow along his neck. “I can’t say I like the idea either, but masters and maids are supposed to be professional. Lines can’t be crossed. It is better if I leave right now.”

Wait, what the fuck was going on? Where they actually being themselves or roleplaying? How deep were they getting into this? This was a joke, right? There was no way he was just going to up and leave Yoongi in his cute maid outfit with blue balls and go off sucking somebody else’s face. The fuck was that? The anger flared up hot. I’m not your actual maid, you fuckin’ idi–

But before jealousy cloud his vision, a ringed hand covered his mouth.

Swift and with one yank, the velvet ribbon was undone.

“Lines can’t be crossed.”

Why did it feel as if the other man towered over him? He wasn’t so much taller, but there was such an obvious difference between the calm and the fury. A curtain of black hair trapped Yoongi in shadow.

“But there are no rules in this unbreakable heaven, right?” that husky voice whispered, low and dark.

Yoongi couldn’t say anything.

He just nodded, his blood racing in his veins.

Those dark, dark eyes seemed satisfied.

“Hold out your hands, my darling.”

His legs turned to jelly. What? The world was an electric haze. The fuck he just say? His hands raised automatically, gasp tittering in his throat as he felt the velvet wind around his wrists, then pivot perpendicular to tie around itself in the center, knowing exactly that it was the other male doing it with a smile, acting as if he didn’t just create a whole rollercoaster of emotions in less than five minutes.

But Yoongi could do nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing but listen.

“Kneel down for me.”

Obediently, tucking his calves under him, being careful and proper about it. The skirt flared out, covering his legs and feet entirely. Yoongi straightened his back, not wanting to look sloppy. It was impossible to slouch in the corset anyway. He didn’t feel like a different person but there was a strange exhilaration at the wrongness of it all. He settled his bound hands in his lap and looked up.

The other man stood above him, smiling, thumbs in the edge of his slacks.

“I like it.”

His cheeks warmed but Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to say anything because, fuck, he found himself enjoying it too. His fingers curled in the thick fabric of the skirt. Tightness in his core. Desire swirling, radiating. He didn’t break eye contact.

“You don’t like the idea of someone else touching me?” the other male asked again.

Yoongi frowned. “Why would you want that anyway?” he countered sharply. “They wouldn’t be able to satisfy you.”

That piercing gaze narrowed. A heavy hand on his head, tilting it back.

It made his entire body shiver with delight.

“They could learn.”

“He doesn’t count.”

Pause.

Raised eyebrow.

Now who the fuck are you referring to, Min Yoongi? But he told his brain to shut up, shut up.

“Jungkook wouldn’t do this for you,” he breathed out, shuddering with need.

A penetrating gaze. “It’s not a competition, Yoongi.”

Yeah, it wasn’t.

“Different people are capable of different things.”

Oh, he knew. He could see it. He did see it. And he definitely didn’t mean for it to come out that way, because he didn’t hate watching their entangled bodies. The roughness. His breathing grew rapid and shallow. There was something wrong with him, surely. It wasn’t a competition but Yoongi did love the intense competitive surge he felt whenever he witnessed them together. It made him want to do more.

Be more.

Be his.

“Look at me.”

He didn’t want to look anywhere else.

“L... Let me serve you, Master.”

So calm it was beautiful. The hand on his head left, sending a tingle trickling down his spine as he adjusted the headband to complete the image. Appreciating it. He nodded. Reached down, silver rings flashing in the light, unbuttoning his slacks. It was only then that Yoongi noticed the subtle tent.

Two fingers beckoning him forward.

“Unzip me.”

Under the skirt, Yoongi squeezed his thighs together. Bit his lip and raised his tied hands. He had done this action enough times but this time felt different. Like he had to be better. More subservient. Maybe it was all in his head. He gripped the thin zipper pull, tugging it away from the body to avoid catching onto anything. The prickling of his skin intensified as he realized the other man wasn’t wearing underwear.

He darted his gaze up.

The devil’s smirk shrugged nonchalantly. “Why bother when we were clearly going to get naked anyway?”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. Besides, there was an important task in front of him. He ran his fingers over the swelling length, the familiar velvety skin under his fingertips. Fuck, he had such a pretty cock. Due to his hands being bound together, he ended up bracing his palms along the underside and wrapping his fingers around the girth, inhaling sharply as he felt it twitch in his hands.

His own cock was mirroring, but Yoongi couldn’t touch it.

Yoongi looked up again.

His Master was disturbingly collected at being caressed like this. He kept his hands behind his back, not interfering. A regal stance. Must have also collected the hem of his dress shirt as well to hold it up and out of the way.

“Ah uh, no hands. That’s cheating. Back on your knees they go.”

He lingered a moment before obeying. Dancing along the fine line of punishment. Breathe in. Breathe out. The base of his palms touched his knees. It wasn’t that different from their normal sex, but the tension… It was impossible to explain. As if the possibilities that had suddenly expanded became a feeling, a thrill unmatched due to the lack of fear.

Yoongi opened his mouth.

Tongue sliding out.

Heat.

The strong taste made him moan, closing his lips around the hard length.

This? This he was good at. This was familiar hardness against his tongue, pushing it up to the roof of his mouth, sliding down deep to take it all. Slow, especially against the head, curling lips around it and rubbing slickness to velvet before choking himself again on the thick tip. Fuck, he could die like this. It was wrong on so many levels, the whole scene, and yet it was so right, opening his eyes to see himself being admired from above, the top few buttons of the brocade shirt undone to reveal those prominent collarbones and sterling silver guitar pick necklace. Heavy, weighted.

Always keeping a piece of me with him.

Those mauve lips curved upwards.

“Your mouth is the fucking best, Yoongi.”

One of those ringed hands lowered and skimmed across, following the top of those thighs that the slacks were still trapped around. There was something additionally arousing about still being in their clothes. Their roles still maintained. Yoongi felt something press against his lower lip.

Ah.

He tipped his head back and flicked his tongue over the other man’s balls, stimulating them each time he went down, heart beating fast as he saw the tension ripple out. It was a real effort to loosen enough to sweep his tongue out and then back to tightness around the head, but a challenge was a turn-on and Yoongi was no quitter, rising a bit on his knees to take in that cock deeper. Paid close attention to his throat muscles and his lip movement, keeping the pressure consistent and forceful, not giving up.

How could he?

Ugh, he was addicted to those low, soft moans. Addicted to the subtle twitch against his tongue, addicted to the hardness and the way that girth stretched out his throat, shivering, feeling pre-cum drip down his own thighs, but he couldn’t touch himself, no, not unless instructed. No hands. He slowed down a bit, wanting to make it last longer, tucking his tongue around each of those balls pressed against his lower lip and chin, strings of saliva dripping down his chin. Didn’t care. Yoongi knew the other man liked it. The cock in his mouth was so damn hard that his jaw ached. He kind of wanted it in his ass right now, but Yoongi was confident that he could get his Master hard again.

After all, his mouth was the best.

The man of excess would know.

He looked up again, intensifying the pace.

He watched those broad shoulders shudder, open-mouthed smirk watching him.

“Fuck, I love your eyes.”

Yoongi could say the same thing, but his mouth was currently full of dick.

He stopped teasing the balls and completely focused on the shaft. Molding it against tongue and lips, wet friction, slick and firm. No hands, so of course he had to be extra careful to use the force of his torso rather than his neck that needed to stay relaxed so he could swallow it all as deep as possible. Closing his eyes, basking in the attention, becoming the pleasure he wanted to give – tight, wet, deep – fast enough to not be ignored but steady enough to build up that inevitable orgasm, close, desperate for the taste, his fingers twisting into the hem of his skirt, whimpering in the back of his throat, craving it, the leather body harness under his clothes digging in to his rapidly rising and falling chest.

So close.

“Don’t choke, my darling,” that husky voice murmured above him.

Then he felt the sudden grasp of his head and the force of hips pushing down his throat. He sure as hell wasn’t going to choke at the rapidly expanding pocket of cum jammed down his throat but, um, hello, did Yoongi just hear that correctly? He was so startled that he griped the bottom of the pants, shivering as he swallowed, gripping tightly. Fire raced over his skin. His nerves singed, alight. Again with the ‘my darling’?! He was delusional. He was hearing shit he wanted to hear. Yeah, that was the only explanation. He kept his mouth closed, swallowing again, shuddering as he felt those hips roll, pushing in and out, remaining hard against his tongue.

Using him.

Yes, this was the safe space, being used.

“Stand up for me.”

Oh, shit.

He stumbled a little, wincing at the pins and needles, but strong hands helped him up. Pulled him closer. Yoongi looked away, busying himself with wiping his chin and straightening his outfit. His headband was somewhere on the floor. Welp. It was the cheapest part of the outfit. He let himself be dragged towards the bed, not saying anything. What was he supposed to say, anyway? Ah he was overthinking this, but how could he not? Was he supposed to act like a girl? A maid? Himself as a maid? Uh.

“H-Hey, what are you doing–?”

“Stand still.”

Yoongi suddenly found his legs sandwiched between two very strong thighs as his Master untied the velvet knot. Oh. He kept his silence as the knot was carefully deconstructed and undone, not making a sound at it was tossed aside. He liked watching those hands work. They were meticulous, treating him with care.

Then, those hands disappeared.

Yoongi raised his head.

Then froze as dark, dark eyes captured him along with ringed fingers closing in around his thighs.

“Uh.”

The sharp tone interrupted him.

“My title?”

Up his skirt. Fingertips traced the tops of the sheer, thigh-high stockings. Flicking the elastic, almost making him flinch as it snapped back into place. His hands had involuntarily found their way to those shoulders, gripping them for balance. He didn’t really want to say it so close. The other male waited patiently, squeezing the backs of his thighs but not going higher or more towards the center.

Yoongi swallowed.

The butterflies in his ribcage threatened to explode.

“Yes… Master?”

A devil’s smile.

“You know why I like skirts, Yoongi?”

“… No?”

They were sitting on the edge of the bed, until they weren’t. The other man scooted back a little and then Yoongi nearly yelped when he was grabbed by his bare ass and lifted. Thankfully, he was able to compose himself and not yell, even when the other male forced his knees in between Yoongi’s and made him straddle his lap. Yoongi’s knees now on the bed and he was fully clutching onto the taller male’s shoulders to avoid toppling over.

“Wait, I’m nak–”

“I can touch everything and you still look pretty,” his Master laughed, tickling warm breath against Yoongi’s neck. “Oh, looks like you had the same idea I did. Great minds think alike.”

This ass! “You can’t just violate–”

Yoongi stopped dead mid-sentence.

Those dark, dark eyes sparkled.

“I can’t what?”

But Yoongi couldn’t say anything because he already did.

He simply froze as those hands kneaded him, ring bands indenting his skin, gasping softly as he felt fingertips brush up against the straps along his legs. The bottom of the chest harness connected to straps around the tops of his thighs so it didn’t ride up. Well, it did, but only in the most delicious of ways. There was another strap around his waist and ones decorating around his chest and back, but for right now the leather below was all that was revealed. The issue was that Yoongi hadn’t really figured out if he was meant to wear underwear or not, because he didn’t want to have to take off the harness during sex and he didn’t want to wear boxer briefs over it. That would be fucking weird.

So, he just figured to go commando.

Of course, that also meant his cock had leaked pre-cum all over his inner thighs and the butt plug in his ass was now being played with since it was easily discovered.

“Ah… d-don’t…”

“Don’t?”

His Master clicked his tongue, disapproving and sensual all at once. He was tugging and pushing the flared base of the metal but plug in and out, creating a slow, maddening pace. Yoongi had picked a medium-sized one. Didn’t know how long he was going to have it in, but wanted to be prepared and all that.

“I do what I want with you, Yoongi. I am your Master, and you are my plaything.”

Fuck, he was so damn cocky but the pleasure was immense, breaking him down. Yoongi hadn’t even realized how the need to be touched had heightened and now the sudden devoted attention was making his jaw clench and his eyelids flutter, a gasping moan escaping him as warm fingers closed around his neglected cock, immediately becoming stiffer at the coaxing strokes.

“I… o-oh, fuck…”

Somehow his arms had slid around to the other man’s back and his head dipped down, forehead against shoulder, his hands splaying over the vest. The corset prevented him from bending over any further, but he couldn’t really see anything due to the skirt anyway. Probably for the best, because if Yoongi saw that hand covered in those rings, he would want to cover them with his cum immediately.

“Our clothes… f-fuck… You’re going to ruin our clothes,” he mumbled, biting back a moan as his cock was choked and the butt plug was fully shoved into his ass with deliberate force.

“You mean you’re going to ruin our clothes.”

Yoongi bit his lower lip and hissed behind his teeth, locking his arms around the other man and trying very hard not to orgasm as the persistent strokes started up again. There was no logic in holding himself back other than his own stubbornness and, of course, prompting his Master to edge him, which he did so happily. Too happily, first driving him so close that Yoongi buried his lips into the other man’s neck and almost screamed, only to be cut off with a firm squeeze to the head, causing his whole body to spasm with need, and then building the second orgasm by dropping his cock completely to toy with the butt plug instead. Holding his ass open with one hand, rings leaving indecent indents, and using his right hand to pull out the plug completely, circling the exposed, shivering hole with the tip, and then shoving it back in, creating a mortifying wet sucking sound that was a combination of lube and his tight ass.

Yoongi was determined not to embarrass himself with begging.

He deserved a reward for merely mewling for release, feeling his cock bob and smack his inner thighs, so close but not close enough.

“What’s that?”

Fuck, don’t make me say it.

Yoongi whimpered under his breath.

“P… Please…”

The response was sweet venom.

“Please what?”

He should have known. This sadist. Yoongi had half a mind to use his real name but he resisted and remained a good little maid.

“Please fuck me, Master.”

It was worth it.

He still had to be patient, of course. Honestly, Yoongi was beginning to enjoy being dragged along a little, held close by the waist as he was placed firmly on top of the other man on the bed. The apron was tossed aside. He held onto the other male’s shoulders as the hook-and-eyes were undone, not quite looking him in the face. Probably had something to do with how hot his cheeks felt right now. The corset was tugged out of the skirt. His blouse fell out with it, covering them in a curtain of white chiffon.

They undressed each other.

Usually, it was faster and with voracious greed. But this time, it was button by button. Dismantling his vest, chancing a moment to raise his gaze and see himself being observed. Not in a discerning way. No, more in a…

Dare he believe it?

Adored way.

I am so fucked.

“I enjoyed the packaging, but you look better naked, Yoongi.”

“… Shut up.”

He leaned down as the zipper of his skirt was undone, pressing his lips to exposed skin. He felt a racing heartbeat under his kiss, heard the soft sigh of contentment above him. There was only a single stray button holding the blouse together, but Yoongi didn’t let the other man access it, instead skimming his lips down that torso, inhaling the scent of cologne and warm skin. He took the skirt with him, untangling it from his legs and pushing it down the bottom edge of the bed. The stockings were loose too, so he got rid of them as well, tugging down the slacks in his descent. The other man got the hint and helped him out, shedding the rest of their lower clothes.

He closed his mouth around his Master’s cock.

“Yoongi… ah…”

He was soft but only for a moment. It was the perfect opportunity to loop his tongue around those balls as he worked that length to its hardest, running his tongue along the underside of the head, popping his lips softly at the ridge, kneading those thighs under his hands. Blowjobs on the bed were a different story. He had the most control here and the help of gravity, pushing all the way down into his throat until he couldn’t breathe and then, again, moaning as fingers tangled into his hair and locked his head in place, those hips rising into his mouth instead, fucking his throat slow and hard.

“That’s enough. Come up here and show me what’s hiding under your shirt.”

Heat rushed into his face. Shit. He tried to resist. Kept his lips locked around that hard cock, but a sharp pull of his hair sent a flare of pain that could not be ignored and he winced, gasping and clawing up the bed as he was decisively dragged up by his head. Saliva dripped down his chin, his mouth open, panting hard as he rose by force, his palms struggling to find footing in the sheets, meeting a cocked eyebrow and impassive expression.

Yoongi was above, but he felt below this dominant energy.

Fingertips touched his stomach.

The inhale caught in his throat.

Those dark, dark eyes did not look away.

No words exchanged. The touch traveled up. Up. Stopping at the leather straps, snapping each one against Yoongi’s skin. He whimpered, still held by his hair, shuddering. He could feel the onyx stones of some of those sterling silver rings. His blouse still held a single button, but it was rising with the forearm sliding up under it. And then.

The buttonhole was a little too big for the small mother-of-pearl button.

The shirt popped open.

For a moment, the darkness remained locked in gaze.

And then the man who called himself Dionysus at times looked down.

Yoongi shut his eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep down his neck. It wasn’t so much the leather harness itself but rather the obviousness of how fucking down bad he was. Fuck, I need to get a grip– but any more thoughts were gone in a snap, his eyes shooting open at the sharp pain, his shoulders flexing to tighten the tension of the leather. Looking down, watching and feeling a thumb rub into his hard nipple, and then, snap! Gasping as the strap smacked back against his skin, excitement pooling down his stomach as another long finger pulled back on another strap, taking it as far as it would go, and moaning as it hit him in the recoil of being let go.

Holy.

Fuck.

His back was arched so the straps along the front were all taut. His damn ass in the air and all. Fuck. The white blouse had slipped down his shoulders, his torso jerking at the inflicted pain, his hair falling into his face, sweat breaking out along his forehead, his inner muscles clenching around the butt plug.

Fuck it.

Yoongi couldn’t wait any longer.

He reached past the other male and grabbed the towel on the nightstand. Didn’t bother to ask. Threw aside his shirt and reached back, jaw tightening as he gripped the base of the anal plug. It was a little slippery from the lube but, as he always prepared beforehand, it was clean. He was almost lightheaded with hunger as he pulled it out, whimpering at the loss, rolling it into the towel and placing the bundle back onto the nightstand.

Leaving the black leather body harness on.

Naturally, Yoongi wanted to be fucked in it.

“Aw, I wanted to bend you over and make you lift your skirt to show me.”

“Next time,” Yoongi growled back, twitching at the thought. “What position?”

The devil’s smile returned.

“How else? Ride me.”

Yoongi felt the color drain from his face. This sadist really wants to hammer it home, huh. “F… Fine.”

He was already in position. There wasn’t far to move. He just had to position his hips and lift his hard cock to look down and see the other man gripping his girth with his right hand, slowly stroking himself, white pre-cum beading against the dark purple head.

The silver rings gleamed under him.

“Want a condom?”

He shook his head. “I prepped. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not. Asking for your comfort.”

Yoongi glanced up.

Fuck, he was so damn hot. The guitar pick necklace was bunched up, the pendant stuck in between his collarbones. Shirt and vest still clinging around his upper arms. Didn’t seem bothered by it. Yoongi swallowed, lowering himself.

“Not too slow,” that throaty voice hummed. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

Normally Yoongi would tell him to go fuck himself but presently he was too horny and too subservient to care, which was precisely why he held open his own ass, relaxed, and sank down. The other male held himself steady, exhaling deeply as he slid in. Still bigger than a plug, fuck, and Yoongi snapped his head back, gasping at the fullness, letting go of his own cock and gripping his thighs, trying to get used to the size. He figured he had enough experience with anal by now but, fuck, he was so damn hard and thick.

Fuck.

He was given a moment to adjust.

Then Yoongi felt a hand close around his leaking cock.

“W-What…?”

This sadist had the audacity to raise his free left hand and press his index finger to his full lips.

“Less talking. More moving.”

You…

Yoongi felt the stiff length twitch inside him and he groaned, rocking his hips into it. Their clothes on the floor. The skirt. The stockings. The apron. The blouse. The pleasure mounting with him, filling himself again and again, using gravity and lust to his advantage, tightening his core to make the pleasure radiate. Gripping the sheets next to his calves, feeling the leather straps cut into his chest, his nipples getting hard at the pain, watching himself get jacked off with that hand covered in silver rings, inescapable ecstasy radiating up his spine.

“I… I’m going to… cum all over your stomach…” Yoongi gasped, whining as he hit his favorite spot, fuck, so deep and so full, relishing in being used like a plaything for pleasure while being pushed to his own limit.

His boyfriend grinned like the devil.

“Mhm, that’s the goal.”

It was an obscene scene.

In retrospect, Yoongi couldn’t outline all the details of it. He was too far gone, too turned on and too many sensations deep to remember how long it lasted. Tipping his head back, thrusting that cock deep into his ass, moaning as he felt the strap at his waist being caught, pulled, digging the straps into his back instead of his chest, feeling the tightness around his upper thighs, violent pleasure building between his spread-open legs, his cock throbbing in a punishing grip, closer, gasping.

Closer.

“F-Fuck!”

He tucked his chin down in dismay, groaning while he watched his hips flinch and felt his cock pulse, dripping out a stream of white across the other man’s lower belly. The hand stopped but his climax didn’t, searing him with blinding pleasure as more cum shot out and smeared everywhere, staining the air with the scent of semen. Yoongi gasped, reeling, and then whined. Two hands clasped around his hips and the other male thrust up into him, hard, again, again, sending Yoongi’s eyes rolling back at the roughness, pitching forward and catching himself with his palms, losing himself to the fucking from below, trying to assist, but the orgasm was too fresh and his body was still limp, forcing him to merely hold on and take it, again, again, deep, hard, used like a plaything.

My darling.

Yoongi moaned as he felt the jerking cock spill into him, pumping him full of cum.

The forbidden name escaped his lips, pleading.

Yoongi could never explain how the other male had the strength. Maybe it was some kind of freakish adrenaline. One moment he was on top, still disoriented from the brutality, the next, he was on his back, his own cum sticking to his lower stomach and crotch, arms and hands around his back and ass to hold him in place when he was lifted. The fuck? And the cock was still inside his ass by some miracle.

Wait.

He…

His Master was still hard.

Yoongi gasped, feeling the cum inside him squish as the other male clenched his jaw and slid back in, slow and deliberate. Pleasuring himself. Instinctively, Yoongi pressed his thighs to the other male’s sides, surprised to feel the brocade shirt was somehow still on. In fact, there was sweat sliding down that chest, which almost never happened. He was usually never hot.

Well, also, Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time he had been creampied and continuously fucked.

He wasn’t complaining though.

He couldn’t say anything at all, desperately panting, the pleasure too much to worry about silly things like breathing, grabbing onto the shirt collar and thrusting up to meet those hips. Both of them moaned in unison, cum sticking between them, lost in lust, forgetting responsibilities and fucking instead, so close, so full, the squishing, slapping sound getting louder and louder.

A low growl.

“I’m gonna cum, Yoongi.”

His words jumbled together and barely made any sense.

“Fuck, yes, in me, fuck, cum in me.”

The hips smacked together.

The rising lust burst, pumping him full of cum again, his eyes cracking open to witness. Lashes lowered, mauve lips parted, the tip of pink tongue over white teeth, carnal satisfaction melting over his features. Weighted exhale drifting out. Warmth spreading over Yoongi’s arms.

Yoongi gripped onto the shirt collar, staring up at him.

There’s no one else for me.

Those dark, dark orbs shifted and looked down at him.

“Happy?” the husky voice panted, smirking slightly.

He had a witty response prepared but he promptly forgot it. “Yeah. That was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.”

The smirk widened, pleased. “You’ve said that before.”

“It’s true every time. You get better.”

A wink. “Helps when you’ve got a tight virgin ass.”

Yoongi felt his eyebrow twitch. He regretted being honest. “Shut up. Get off me.”

“Um, you seem to forget I pumped your ass full of cum.”

“Sounds like your problem.”

“This is our home, remember, which makes it our problem.”

Yes, it was, but Min Yoongi took a leaf out of Jeon Jungkook’s book and remained a brat. His boyfriend liked that shit, as evidenced by the bickering, and the later not-so-punishing punishment of being bent over in the shower to get his ass fucked again because he was being freaking annoying. Ah, love.

What?

Yoongi didn’t just think that. Nope.

--

masterpost

[saturdaysky]

Tagged by @mithrilwren!

Last song/piece I listened to: "Complete Gregorian Chant Rosary" on youtube for some thematic creative inspiration. But actual music? Tightrope by LP, for blorbo reasons.

Last book I read: I reread The Bear and the Nightingale the other day! I do love works that live in the space between wonder and horror like old fairy tales do, and this book captures that space well.

Last film I watched: Watched Howl's Moving Castle with a friend a few days ago.

Last TV series: Scavengers Reign. Huuuge recommendation!! I am in awe of its concise storytelling. Two sentence summary: a huge freight ship crash lands on a planet with a vast and strange ecosystem. Survivors struggle to make their way in the world, and struggle to reckon with the tragedy that caused the crash in the first place. One of the most excellent things I have seen in ages.

Last video game (if applicable): Diablo II co-op. An old fav of my brother and mine 🥰

Last thing I googled: "an absence becomes a presemce" [sic]

Last thing I ate: brie, an apple, and roasted pepitas

Sweet, Savory or Spicy: All three! But sweet, if I had to choose.

Amount of sleep: I'm not going to incriminate myself with an answer here.

Currently reading: The Girl in the Tower, book 2 of the trilogy that includes The Bear and the Nightingale

Currently watching: A Journey to Love. I'm enjoying the ice cold assassin/scheming manipulator "so like...how would you kill me 😏🥰" relationship, even if I have questions about the zany sound effects.

Tagging @mllekurtz @ariadne-mouse @aravhy @mightymizora @aboxthecolourofheartache @old-flappingduster @mieletthe if you care to play!

[lowercasespaghetti]

Thank you, @jerkeline for tagging me in this. It's a nice way to get out of the shell I hide in.

Favourite Colours: I'm quite partial to blue, rich navys and sky tones. I just love the velvet and electric textures of the colour. It's like those super sour candies. I also do quite like a rich yellow, darker tones of the colour are so serene. But blue does take the cake here.

Last Song Played: The last song I listened to was Anchored by Massa Nera. It's one of my favourite songs. Before that it was the Tristram theme from Diablo II.

Currently Reading: At the moment I'm re-reading the Bionicle comics, for a hit of nostalgia and escapism. I'm trying to read more in general, but I'm not great for it.

Currently Craving: A really nice hug, tranquility. A momentary escape, adventure, mystery. There's these really excellent veggie chicken things that are so crispy and flaky, it's almost like real fried chicken; one of those in a sandwich with some ceasar dressing and lettuce.

Coffee or Tea: I'd like to lie to myself and say tea, but the untouched boxes in my pantry would give me away. I also genuinely really like the flavour of coffee, I like that smooth dark taste.

I summon @corrach, @mousegirlpodcast, @ass-beef. Complete this at your leisure, or don't: I can't make you do anything you wouldn't do already.