#[ apologies mostly bc i rly want to get back into writing but continue to Not do that-- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ppersonna · 5 years ago

Text

repentance - knj | m

now, let's imprint my name on that trophy and come back home - come back home, BTS

↳ summary- your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, doesn’t like it when you flirt with other guys

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6k

↳ pairing- namjoon x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is all smut, there is nothing but smut here, there is no god in this chili’s tonight. this actively takes us further from the light.

↳ warnings- very hard BDSM, name calling, degradation, humiliation, spitting, caning/spanking, collaring, bondage, squirting, overstimulation, impreg kink lmfao, face fucking, Namjoon is a v sadistic dom but he is still sane, after care is important,

↳ a/n- well folks. here it is. The fic that pushed me past my comfort zone lmfafskadf. i am 100% grateful to @sombreboy for assisting me with this and being silly as fuck in the google doc. i could not have done it without his guidance lmfaooo. this was requested by anon and i hope i did it justice and i rly appreciate getting sent things that make me write things i normally wouldn’t! thank you for believing in me lmfao. pls feel free to interact with me however u want bc i love you all. Thanks for reading! namjoon if ur reading this pls forgive me

“I hope you had your fun, doll,“ Namjoon whispers harshly in your ear as you walk with him away from the dance studio. You’re covered in sweat, hot, and still you’re shaking like a leaf at the tone of your boyfriend’s voice.

So maybe you broke the rules. Maybe you danced with Jimin at practice a little too intensely, a little too provocatively. Maybe you grinded up against the blonde harder than you should, making the dancer sport a tent in his pants.

And maybe you did it in front of your boyfriend, that man who loved and dominated you.

Is it too late to say oops?

Namjoon is silent on the drive home. His face is expressionless, but his eyes give it away. He looks a touch angry, a touch excited, but he mostly radiates possession. If there’s something that Namjoon hates, it’s sharing you.

Your playful flirting with Jimin had been just that—playful. Jimin was your dance partner going on 10 years now, ranging from ballroom to jazz and tap, to contemporary and international. Jimin was always your go-to guy, best friend, and occasional fuck buddy. Namjoon knew this, knew the history between you two, but still allowed you your freedom in dancing and competing with the blonde. Sometimes it was just so easy to fall back on old habits, when you’d grind on Jimin so hard that he’d rip your shorts down and take you against the hardwood floor of the studio.

Even though you were quite happy in your relationship with Namjoon, it was hard to re-route the synapses that led elsewhere when you were dancing.

But you loved Namjoon, and you had for a long time. It was something you were working on, the flirting and the carelessness. Namjoon was supportive, loving, and a natural caretaker.

He was also a sadistic Dominant.

Where Namjoon was sensitive, sweet, communicative and giving in the streets, he was disgusting and filthy and downright heinous in the sheets.

And you loved every single aspect of it. There was nothing that thrilled you more than the control he wielded on you, the power in his gaze and in his hand, and the possession he took of you.

It was the reason none of your relationships worked out before him. Sure, there had been pleasant guys and excellent fucks like Jimin. But Namjoon was the entire package, plus some. You trusted him with your entire life, your whole being. He grew up alongside you, and you knew the man would rather injure himself than ever cause you harm.

It’s what made the punishments, the pain, even more delicious. He took you to your breaking point, sometimes even further, because he knew you could take it. And you trusted, loved and adored him for it.

But that didn’t mean it was easy.

No, while the punishments and pain were fun in the long run, they still sent a thrill of fear down your spine.

It’s been awhile since you got your boyfriend this worked up. Things had been pretty smooth sailing for the last few months. Sure, he was still a maniac in bed, but it was the scripted and practiced scenes you both knew by heart. Schoolgirl, nurse, secretary.

But this was real. Tangibly real. You could feel the tension rolling off his toned body, the heat of it ensnaring you, tying you up tight.

You want to apologize, open your mouth and begin the litany of sorry’s and I didn’t mean to’s, but your throat felt dry. You knew it was useless to try now, and the act might make him more upset.

The punishment he would inflict upon you would absolve you, baptize you of your sins. He’d sacrifice your flesh to be remade.

The car pulls into the garage of your shared home. Namjoon parks, closes the heavy door behind the car, then sits in the car staring straight ahead.

He’s silent for a moment. It puts your nerves on edge and he knows this, knows you hate the silence more than anything else.

“You are going to get naked. Right now.” He orders, still not facing you. He focuses his eyes on the wall of your garage. “You will leave your dirty clothes outside where they belong. And you will crawl from the car into the house.”

You nibble at your lip, waiting for more instructions. He turns and levels a look at you, and your body lights with fire.

“I want you to retrieve your collar and the handcuffs and bring them to me in the bedroom. You will get in position for me.”

He looks at you once more, seeking your eyes for any sign of fear, anything to tell him he’s going too far.

While your heart races, you nod and swallow tightly. You’re scared but not enough to stop him. You have a safe word for a reason but you haven’t needed to use it yet and you trust Namjoon more than you trust yourself.

He takes stock of your agreement and exits the car, leaving you alone as he trudged up the stairs leading to the house.

It takes one shuddering breath before you step out of the car, peel your sweaty workout clothes off, and slide down to your knees. There're cameras in the garage for security, and you know he’s watching them to ensure you’re listening to his orders.

The floor of the garage is dirty. You take one movement forward and look at your hands to find they’re already covered in black soot from the dirt and oils of the car tires driving in and out. You make a face but quickly pull out of it. This is your punishment.

You crawl up the steps and gingerly open the door, then make your way to your linen closet where your collar and handcuff remain when you’re not at home.

Namjoon gifted you with a home collar and a public collar. The public collar is a beautiful diamond circle pendant that hits right at the hollow of your throat.

The home collar, however, is made out of a study leather material, embedded with gorgeous diamonds. It’s heavy against your throat when you wear it. It’s a constant reminder of your subservient relationship to your Dom, your boyfriend.

The handcuffs hang from their specified hook. Black leather with chains connecting the cuffs. They’re strong, incredibly so, and the thought of being locked up makes your core tighten in excitement and fear.

With the items secure in your grasp, you return to your kneeling position and continue crawling towards the bedroom where your boyfriend awaits. Something inside you bubbles fiercely—what does he have planned for you? It’s been awhile since you’ve been quite literally at his mercy.

Namjoon is standing in front of the bed, arms crossed over his chest as you enter the room. You keep your eyes down, not making contact until he instructs for you to do so. You can feel the power and heat oozing off him, surrounding him like a cloud of authority. You approach and sit in front of him, knees spread wide and sat back on your heels. Your hands offer up the collar and the cuffs, palms up, as you avert his gaze.

“Look at you,” he tuts. “Filthy...” He removes the collar and cuffs off your hands and gazes at the black soot remaining from the dirty garage floor,

“But it suits you perfectly, doesn’t it?”, his voice was almost mocking you, ‘’A dirty slut.’’

Quite literally.

Namjoon sets aside your collar on the edge of the bed before crouching in front of you, a lopsided grin curling on his lips as he grabs your wrists as to inspect them,

‘’Even your pretty little hands are soiled, angel.’’ he tsked in disapproval, the mere sound of it making you feel smaller, eyes still fixed on the floor. After all, he hadn’t told you to look at him as of yet.

You don’t know why you thought he would ask you to wash your hands, but you quickly threw aside your anticipations as it catches you off guard with what he does next.

‘’Palms up, angel. Show me your hands.’’

A confused second passed, but you obliged nonetheless, raising both of your hands, palms up to him as if you were begging for something.

The mere sight was absolutely gorgeous to Namjoon.

Without a word, Namjoon collects enough saliva in his mouth, grabbing your wrists to pull your hands closer, letting his spit drip from his tongue down to pool in your hands. Your eyes widen as they stare at the floor, arms twitching instinctively at the foreign sensation.

His grasp around your wrists tightens, ‘’Stay still… Be a good girl, yeah?’’

You nod, relaxing your arms. However the muscles in them feel tired from holding them out for him like this. He knows, he can tell, but says nothing about it. He loves to watch you struggle, adamant to please him.

Besides, you deserve it, don’t you?

Once more, Namjoon spits in your hands. This time, it has a degrading intention; a harsh spitting sound as it lands in your hand. He stands up again, the angle even more delicious from above as he watches you obediently hold his pooled saliva like it was the most precious gift from him.

‘’Go on... Clean up.’’

You bite your lip as the slick saliva spreads in your hands. Your body thrums with humiliation and desire, mixing to make your legs quiver where they kneel before him. You clasp your hands together and rub your boyfriends spit in your hands, attempting to remove as much of the dirt as possible with what he’s given you. It’s messy—the spit is black from the soot. His eyes take you in, the image of you cleansing yourself with him, accepting his spit like the dirty whore you are, that he loves. It makes his cock throb in his jeans. Nothing gets him off quicker than putting you in your place, seeing you accept his degradation with pink cheeks and frightened eyes.

He pulls his shirt off his body and throws it to you carelessly.

“Use it to dry your hands,” he orders.

You comply, wiping the last off you with his shirt.

“Let me see.” You hold your hands up for him to inspect and he smirks, ‘’Good little slut.’’

His hands open the collar wide and you jerk slightly as you feel the pressure of it on your neck. Namjoon pulls it tight around you for a moment, cutting off your air supply, before he releases and secures the collar to sit high on your throat. The ‘O’ ring sits at the center proudly, a place he often uses to leash and drag you around like his pretty, perfect pet.

He moves away from you and towards the armoire at the side of your bedroom. Your heart gallops wildly. The armoire is full of his toys, punishment and reward alike. The unknowing of what he’s getting out to use on you has your cunt dripping with desire and fright.

There’s silence as he gathers his tools, then returns and places them on the nightstand.

“Look at me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

You let your eyes flick up to his and your breath catches. He looks incredible. Shirtless, tight pants straining with the bulge of his cock, power exuding from his very pores. Your eyes dance on his chest for just a moment, soaking in the refined lines, then settle at his eyes. They’re darkened with lust, with intention. He looks at you like you are his next, and final, meal.

“I want you to bend over the bed. You will spread your legs and push out your pretty little ass. I’m going to cane you for what you’ve done today.”

Your eyes widen, and he relishes in the fright lingering. He hasn’t used the cane on you in a long time. It’s the most intense tools of impact you own—the one you’re most frightened of.

“You know your safe word, don’t you?” He asks.

You nod.

He tsks. “I asked you a question. Don’t make me open up that mouth for you. You won’t like what I’ll do.”

A shiver runs through you as you weakly open your mouth. “Yes, sir. My safe word is orange.”

He nods. “Good girl. Let’s hope we won’t need it and you’ll take what you are given, hm?” Another nod from you. “Now, do as you’re told.”

You hop up quickly, knees painfully red and sore now, and move towards the bed. You arch down, sticking your ass out towards your boyfriend and spreading your legs shoulder-length apart. He can see all of you, slick folds weeping with desire and anticipation, legs shaking in fear and arousal.

It’s intoxicating to Namjoon, the way you behave and listen. He loves the fright inside you, the way it soaks your cunt for him. He knows the cane is on the verge of being too much, he knows you’ll be weeping both from eyes and pussy at the end of it.

The wood is heavy in his hands. The cane is only a bit longer than a paddle, but it packs an even more intense blow.

“Tell me what you did today. Why do you deserve my cane?” He asks, allowing the cane to tap at your cheeks lightly. It makes you jerk and clutch at the blankets below you.

“I—I was dancing with Jimin, sir,” you murmur, voice tight with anxiety.

“Ah ah, you weren’t just dancing,” he corrects. “Don’t pretend to be innocent. You know what you did.”

As you open your mouth to speak, he brings the cane down at the tops of your thighs. It cracks heavily on the skin and makes your knees give out. The sting is like white, hot fire on your thighs. It burns, and makes your cunt clench around nothing. Tears spring at your eyes as you try to answer him.

“I was grinding on him!” you cry as your legs return to standing to accept the next blow.

“You were being a little. fucking. slut.” he intones, then punctuates his words with another whip of the cane—right at the center of your ass. The sound of it hitting your flesh echoes in the bedroom you share, and it makes you cry out in pain. Your knuckles were white from the grasp of the blankets—tears flooding you and spilling onto the duvet. “Say it!” He orders.

You whimper through your words. “I was being a slut, sir!”

‘’That’s right, you were being a filthy, horny cockslut.’’ He snarls, another whip echoing in the room as it falls harshly on your skin, ‘’Horny for Jimin’s cock with the way you were grinding on him, by the looks of it, isn’t that right?’’

He laughs mockingly, landing another whip on the same spot he previously caned, it would definitely bruise. But you didn’t care. And neither did he, he fucking loves your cries.

‘’Tell me, who’s cock are you really a whore for?!’’

He holds the cane high, anticipating your answer.

‘’Y-yours, daddy-- p-please!’’ You cry out, clawing at the sheets, legs quivering.

‘’That’s right, but apparently, you didn’t remember that today, angel.’’ He says with an awfully calm voice, cane still held high.

He ends his caning with one final blow, and it makes your vision black out with the intensity. You’re sobbing now, weeping into the blankets as your legs shake.

It’s the most intense pain you’ve ever felt, ever been dealt from your loving boyfriend. It forces you to understand just how upset you made him, just how angry watching you attempt to seduce another man makes him.

“You’re my little cumslut, you hear that? Mine!”

His hands smooth over your reddened ass, harsh burgundy lines marking where he punished you thoroughly. It makes you whimper through your cries, his warm hands simultaneously soothing and agitating the marks.

He only remains for a moment, ensuring the flare of pain is soothed. As sadistic as he is, he remains sane enough to ensure your safety. Your whimpers have slowed slightly, and he takes it as his opportunity to move on.

He reaches for the handcuffs and takes advantage of your prone position, bent over the bed. He works them around your wrists, tightening them just enough to leave you helpless. He pulls you up and presses his back against you, face at your ear.

“You took your first punishment well,” he encourages as he licks a stripe on your throat, right above the collar that symbolizes you as his. “But I’m not finished with you,” he sighs. “Little cock whores like you are never satisfied with just one little punishment, aren’t you?”

You sniffle and nod. “No sir, I n-need more.”

He chuckles—it’s dark and ominous.

“Dirty fucking slut.”

He turns you to face him and he kisses you roughly, no sign of the sweet and sensitive boyfriend. It’s the Jekyll to his Hyde; the sadistic Dom now kissing you cares only of getting off and making you take it.

His mouth is fiery—teeth biting at your lips and growling when he slips his tongue in your mouth.

“Gonna make you remember who the fuck you belong to, baby girl,” he warns as he pulls away. He urges you down to your knees and you’re easily complying.

His hands are at his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping and making your mouth salivate in anticipation.

He steps out of his jeans, and you’re rewarded with his thick cock springing free from the confines of his jeans. You should have expected your boyfriend to go without boxers, but it’s a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

“Look at you,” he notes. “So desperate for my cock.” He grips it and teases it in front of you. You want to lean forward, capture it in your lips but you refrain and wait for the order.

“You think you deserve this? You think I should let you suck my dick after that little show you put on today?” He gives his length a stroke and it makes you nearly whine with need. “Little fucking bitch wants any cock she can get, why should I let you have mine?”

Your eyes shine with tears, still lingering from your caning and refreshing now with wet, hot desire for him.

“Beg.” He orders, holding his dick in front of your face tauntingly.

“P-please, daddy. Let me suck your cock,” you blubber. “Let me show you that you’re the only cock I need.”

He hums and strokes himself. Watching you nearly weep with want and beg to suck him off has his head reeling. The power rushes through his veins like a drug.

“I think you can do better than that,” he sighs. “Why shouldn’t I just jerk myself off and cum on that pretty face of yours?”

Tears freely spill down your face now. “I want you to use me, I want to let you fuck my throat raw, please, sir!” You sound completely gone and Namjoon feels his impossibly hard cock flex at your needy tone. “Please fuck my throat like the cock whore I am!”

“That’s fucking right,” he grunts. “Open that fucking mouth for me.” Your mouth opens and he’s leaning down to spit harshly at your waiting tongue. It makes you jerk, but you reserve yourself and accept it. “Filthy little bitch.”

He moves forward and sets his cock on your tongue and almost groans at the feel of your hot mouth, swirling with his spit now.

“Make me cum with your mouth, you don’t get to use those hands today.”

He wastes no time on shoving his length into you and down your throat. He gives a few precursory thrusts and sighs as he feels your throat gagging around him and hears your desperate, wet sounds. Tears flow freely—your mascara is smearing down your face as you look up at him, mouth stuffed full. It’s the prettiest sight he thinks he’s ever seen. You’re desperate, absolutely fucked out for him. Saliva dribbles down your mouth and he fucking loves it when you become a mess on his cock.

“Pathetic.’’ He murmurs. But truly, he thinks it was beautiful—the way you desperately take his cock down your throat, the needy look in your teary eyes and the muffled whines vibrating in your throat at his fake disapproval. It makes you work harder, eager to make him feel good.

You bob your head, keeping your eyes locked on Namjoon—he loves it when you’re giving him your undivided attention. It’s sloppy, and you’re loud. Namjoon fucking lives for when all your inhibitions are gone and you’re wanton and horny like a porn star desperate for work.

“Fuck, such a good throat,” he drags a finger up it as he forces his cock to the back of your mouth. He can feel the ridge of his cock through your neck and he nearly cums from that alone. “Taking it so fucking good.” He grips your head and desperately fucks into your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut and will your gag reflex away, let him use you as he sees fit. You egg him in with licks of your tongue as he thrusts in and out, and by the filthy noises you make with each press.

Saliva is dropping out of your lips, and his it covers his cock. Namjoon feels his balls tighten impossibly and knows he’s close.

“Does my cockslut want daddy’s cum? You want me to coat that little throat with it?” He keeps his pace and you nod through your tears. He grunts his approval and picks up the pace, only to explode through his orgasm soon after. His cock pulses as he emptied himself into your mouth and throat, and you suck harder as if thirsty for it.

He pulls it out a moment later with a sated sigh. “My little cum dump,” he smirks as he runs a finger over your lips. “Swallow it all.” You nod and visibly swallow his load, then hold your tongue out to prove it.

“Shit—so good. You’re such a whore you could drink my cum all day, couldn’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper. Your throat is rough and sore from his thrusts but you can’t find it in you to care, not even a little bit.

You remain on your knees and he puts a finger under your chin and lifts it higher. “Doing so good, angel. Making me proud.”

It makes your heart nearly implode. Namjoon is sadistic and thrills in your anguish, but loves you all the same. He knows you’re not just able to take it, but you’re desperate to take it. You trust him to never hurt you in a way you couldn’t handle.

“Still have more for you, little one. I don’t think you quite understand who this body belongs to.”

Your eyes shine with excitement and Namjoon can’t help but to smile at it. He uncuffs you and you look perplexed. He never lets you out early.

“Up on the bed, on your back,” he states as he ignores your questioning look. You know better than to deny his order, so you rub at your wrists as you move towards the bed. Your knees are still throbbing from the pressure and you heave a pleased sigh as you melt into the mattress.

“I wouldn’t feel too comfortable,” he chuckles. “It won’t last long.”

In Namjoon’s hands is red shibari rope. It makes your stomach flip. It’s been so long since he’s trussed you up and it thrills you to see the familiar smooth bindings.

“Thighs to your chest,” he orders. “Spread them wide, show me this needy little cunt.”

You do as he says, pulling your thighs up to meet your chest and spreading them open. He stares at your core, it’s dripping now. It drips down you and stains the comforter. Namjoon tuts. If you’re this wet already, he knows he will need to change the sheets after he’s done with you.

“Look at you,” he intones. “A dumb little slut, open and ready for any cock she can get.” He drags a finger up and down your thigh.

Namjoon gets to work. He loves the way he loses himself in the art of tying you up. He loves watching your chest rise and fall and the little squeaks that come out of your mouth as he knots you up. He loops the rope around the left thigh, then draws in your left calf to tie it in. You’ll be spread open, unable to stretch your legs out until he gives you permission.

He glances up at you every so often as he continues, checking to make sure he’s not cutting off any vital circulation. As cruel as he is, he doesn’t intend to actually maim you. You never show a sign of pain, just the glazed look you hold as your body gives in to your subservient intuition. It makes Joon smile and his heart clench in his chest. He really fucking loves you.

You’re soon tied up completely from the waist down, both legs tied together and spread open with pussy on display. Your hands are free and just as you’re about to relish in it, Namjoon is looping more rope to tie each wrist to a bedpost. He grins as you gasp. You’re completely tied up and at his will, and you’re embarrassed at how open you are in front of him, how dripping wet you get from being tied up and useless.

Namjoon is moving around and you suddenly hear a vibration and it gets closer as he approaches you.

“Gonna make you cum for me, babygirl... Gonna play with you until you fucking squirt everywhere.”

Your legs clench together as you notice he is holding a Hitachi wand in his hand. You know the power it wields. It brings you to your finish nearly instantaneously. Which means Namjoon has decided your next punishment will be denying you any orgasm and continually bringing you to the edge… or making you cum so much your cunt hurts. You don’t know which is worse.

He notices the look on your face and grins. “Yeah, you know what this is, don’t you?”

Namjoon places the bulbous head of the wand on your cunt and you cry out instantly. He drags it up and down your drenched slit and you’re already feeling so close to the edge.

“You better fucking scream, don’t hold back,” he orders. “Remind this whole fucking neighborhood who gets you off. Make sure Park fucking Jimin hears it.”

He stops rubbing it up and down and lets it sit right on your clit and watches your face contort as your tied legs struggle against the wrappings. It’s too much, it feels like you’ve been lit up. Namjoon gloats in your struggle. He sees your cunt dripping with increasing fervor, can tell you’re squeezing those walls around nothing. He can’t wait to bury himself inside you once and for all and coat your walls with his cum.

“You know you better fucking ask permission to cum,” he reminds you. “You better not cum unless I tell you.”

Your tear-streaked face is twisted in pleasure, in pain. You feel yourself unwinding, increasing towards your finish like a bullet.

“D-Daddy! Please! I need to cum! Please!” You’re begging harder than you’ve begged in your life, you’re certain. It feels like the string inside you will snap any second now and you’re holding off the orgasm as hard as you can. Without the use of your legs, you find yourself unable to slow the inevitable.

“No,” he states firmly. “Fucking take it. You can keep going.” He growls his words and watches as your cunt is helpless. “Little whores like you can fucking take it.”

It’s useless, you’re falling apart at the seams. You’re pleading with him to let you cum, legs now completely convulsing in their restraints. It snaps, the coil inside bursts and you’re careening towards the end. You whine and cry helplessly as your pussy pulsates around nothing and oozes out your arousal. Your face burns in shame as you come down-—you know exactly what you’ve done wrong.

“S-sorry! I’m so sorry, Daddy!” Tears fall harder and you’re gasping for his forgiveness, for his mercy. “I’m so sorry!”

‘‘Tsk, tsk.’’ Namjoon tuts. “My little slut couldn’t even follow her one and only instruction.’’ He removes the wand for just a moment. “You better fucking listen this time.”

Your body feels overstimulated. The pleasure is bordering on painful and you yelp as Namjoon places it back on your overworked clit.

“You can make up for it if you squirt for me,” he grits. “Maybe I’ll stick my fingers in this tight cunt. Always so desperate for Daddy’s help, aren’t you?”

You whine at the thought of him filling you, but it’s overtaken by the feeling of the wand back on you. It’s painful, but it feels so good. Your body is held back by one single tripwire, ready to snap at any moment. Namjoon knew that restraining your arms and legs left you completely helpless to slow your own orgasms. He wanted you to fail, wanted to punish you for cumming when he knew damn well you wouldn’t last a fucking second under the wand’s vibrations.

“P--please!” your whines are breathy. You feel as if you’ve just run a marathon and you’re desperate for air. Your entire body is singing with rapture, with pain. You feel a deep desperation to feel him inside you. “I need you! Need your fingers!”

Namjoon groans at the sound of your whines. It’s his favorite, when you’ve finally snapped past a breaking point and he pushes you beyond. The way you’re desperate, begging and crying for him is pathetic. He fucking loves it.

“Fuck, listen to yourself,” he comments. His cock is raging again, hard and ready to bury itself inside you. But he waits. He’s nothing but patient for you. “You sound like a little fucking whore. Are you Jimin’s whore?”

You blubber a cry and shake your head, feeling the oncoming orgasm approaching again. It feels even more intense.

“No! I’m yours! O-only yours, Daddy!” The simple crying is turning into sobs and you both can tell you’re nearly on the edge.

“That’s fucking right,” he snarls. “This pussy belongs to me. Not fucking Jimin. Not even you. I own you.” His words run cold through your body, it feels as if your veins have iced over. You’re absolutely under his spell and control, and you’ve never loved anyone more.

“Cum for me, filthy slut. Let me see you get Daddy nice and messy.” He shoves two fingers inside you, and curls them to reach the spot that has you reeling. He knows he’s made it when you’re arching on the bed and screaming through your sobs.

“G-gonna cum, oh god--” you’re gasping for air, greedy for it. “There, f-fuck!”

The orgasm that hits you is stronger than any before. It feels like your cunt turns into a vice and you’re squeezing around his fingers so hard it makes Namjoon hiss. Your body spasmed and trembled as you came, and finally Namjoon is rewarded when your cunt gushes all over his fingers, dripping down his hand.

“Holy shit,” he gapes as you finally return to earth from your skyhigh completion. “Dirty fucking slut. You did so good.”

Namjoon’s cock is pulsating. He’s sure if he doesn’t get inside you, now, he’ll shatter.

“Nasty whore is going to get one more. You’re gonna cum on Daddy’s cock, aren’t you?”

You’re nodding weakly. You’re far gone, mind so dizzyingly high and body exhausted. “P-please, need you.”

He takes no care to line himself up or take time. He’s pressing against your hole in one moment and is buried to the hilt the next. You’re so wet it feels like he’s drowning and he throws his head back in bliss. Even after two explosive orgasms you’re tight around him, molding around each ridge of his cock.

“Oh, god--” he groans. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever been in.” The praise doesn’t last long, so you soak it in while it lasts, ‘’Gonna pump you full of my cum, angel-- f-fuck..’’ You’re crying and whining as he pumps into you. It feels so good.

‘’Gonna have you nice and swollen with my child, so everybody knows just who the fuck this little whore belongs to.’’ His thrusts are so powerful that it’s almost as if he’s trying to fuse with you, he’s no longer holding back any reservations. His hips bump against you as he stuffs you full, chasing his end. He drops a hand to your clit, knowing it’s battered from the wand but can’t find it in him to care anyway. He wants you to orgasm again, and he’s going to get it. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To be so plump and pregnant that everyone will know what a depraved, little bitch in heat you are for me.”

Impossibly, you feel your belly tighten and tug and you’re edging closer and closer to yet another orgasm that Namjoon will wrench out of you. You’re crying out, only able to whine and sob his name. He’s fucked the ability to talk right out of you, and you can only think about Namjoon and his fat cock drilling into you and filling you up as if his life depended on it.

Namjoon loves it when you’re fucked out completely. He can tell he’s close, and nearing closer as he watches your sobbing face, smeared with mascara, cry and gasp for his cum. He could cum from watching you beg alone, and now as he pounds into your juicy cunt he’s surrounded in pleasure.

“I’m going to cum--fuck. Gonna fucking fill you,” he hisses as he thrusts so hard it’s nearly bruising. His grip on your hips tighten, blunt nails digging into your skin as he lets out a loud and guttural moan as his cock desperately throbs inside of you. He keeps his power, but the pace dies down with each thrust. He fucks his cum deep inside you, and rubs at your clit punishingly. His warm seed jammed inside you snaps everything and you’re crying pathetically as you reach your high, walls contracting and milking him. Your vision is black and you only hear the rush of your blood in your ears.

It takes a few stuttering breaths to finally come to, and your vision returns to normal. Namjoon remains buried inside you and he’s panting just as hard as you. You’re both dripping in sweat and covered in your combined juices. He cups a hand on the side of your face and smiles at you as you both attempt to return to normal.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” He asks with a chuckle. He slowly pulls out of you and you’re wincing at the loss. You’re sure you won’t be able to walk, let alone even stand.

You nod gingerly. “Really fucking good.” you whisper. Everything is sore, and it’s a feeling you can’t compare to anything. It’s a burning ache that reminds you of Namjoon, of your love, of the trust you willingly hand over to him and the bliss he gives in return.

“Let’s run a bath,” he states as he leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. The Namjoon you love is back, the sweet and compassionate lover who cares about every single aspect of you.

“I would love that,” you sigh. “But, could we maybe untie my legs before I lose any more circulation?”

The both of you erupt into laughter as his hands work over the intricate knots. He winks.

“Needy little whore.”

#bts fic #bts smut #bts imagine #bts namjoon #hyungsmutsociety #ksmutclub #bts rm #namjoon smut

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dastardlydandelion · 4 years ago

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I wish you would write a fic where Susan got to keep her baby for once.

well. hm. what would this look like in my hands. okay, okay, so in this particular scenario, i actually imagine neil was putting 2 + 2 together and finding out susan's preggo right after the move. like, even before susan does. and she's all kinds of alarmed but neil is?? oddly excited?

he's all like, "isn't this great? we get to have a new baby in this new town. what a perfect way to cement our brand new life, huh?"

and susan doesn't want to be hopeful but with neil's positive reaction, she tentatively feels hope anyway. maybe things rly will be different, right?

continues under the cut bc this got fucking long.

yeah, well, neil's good mood lasts until it's actually born and responsibilities ensue. he never had to deal with billy as a baby rly, bc billy's mom took care of that part and also, like. in this 'verse at least, billy was a low-maintenance baby. didn't cry much. maybe he did at first but like, after being dropped on the head a couple times, he just went quiet and didn't rly bother anybody after that. wouldn't get loud again until elementary age. and max didn't come into neil's life until she was even elementary age, so defo past all the baby stuff.

the new infant tho screams like a mofo. everybody in the house is on edge. sleep is hard to come by for the whole household. the care and keeping responsibilities mostly fall on susan but neil holds it against her every. single. time. he has to change a diaper or hold a bottle, as if it's some major failing on susan's part that he should ever have to do anything like this at all.

max tries to help but she can't even hold the baby tbh. it makes her v uncomfortable, she never gets it right and doesn't know what to do when it squirms!! what if she drops it!? plus she thinks baby smells weird even when it's got a clean diaper, an unappealing mashed food and powder combo with a lingering whiff of wet rubber. and billy. is billy. he has to watch it sometimes, naturally. if it's just him and baby at home, he'll blast his stereo to cover up the crying, as long as he knows its other needs have been tended to. like, yk, the "it'll cry itself to sleep eventually," approach. which works actually. metallica becomes the go-to baby lullaby.

but lo and behold, when it's like, let's say 6 months or smth, baby gets an ear infection. like babies do. won't stop wailing. just. will NOT stop. v much in pain and has no other means of communication. neil and max are home. billy is on a date. susan's stuck in a long line at the grocery store. neil had a shitty day at work and he's already aggravated. pacifier isn't working, lil thing just keeps hollering, so. in a burst of frustration, he starts throttling baby. max is in her own room but hears it the second the noises change and hurries to help, blood ice cold.

she stops neil from killing baby sibling but gets a black eye and a bloody nose for her troubles. this is what susan comes home to. i've written a lot of susan kills neil scenarios but i think this is the first one that comes to mind where in this round, it really is out of anger and not fear. both are present, ofc. but the actual act on her part is one of anger. bc she feels stupid that he ever had her the slightest bit convinced a new baby would make anything better. that neil ever made her feel like he'd be better and instead, he chose to be even worse. susan ties him to the bedposts under the guise of a sex thing, convincing neil she wants to treat him to smth special bc he's been oh so stressed out lately. bashes his brains in with a hammer at least 20 times, a la sally challen style.

alas, reality commences and susan goes to prison. ig a long time ago there was this made for tv movie abt this lady killing her abusive husband by setting the bed aflame that gave the public the misconception that women who kill their abusers are typically acquitted, but uh, that's not true. yeah, it was true for the lady whom the movie was based off of, but usually they're convicted and serve unduly harsh sentences for their "crimes." but if i get on that soap box, we gonna be here the whole fucking day, so, moving on now. susan's off to the big house. albeit both baby and max's injuries are documented and considered mitigating circumstances so her charges are reduced from first degree murder to voluntary manslaughter with the potential for early release.

billy's close to 19 so he's an adult, if only technically speaking. has custody of baby and max. i've decided baby in this 'verse is amab but will eventually come out as trans when she's abt ten yrs old. billy tries his best. max tries her best too. baby's nickname is ducky bc the rubber duck?? by far the favorite toy!! baby p much lives in the bathtub, playing with the rubber duck. billy, who would move them back to cali in a heartbeat if it wasn't so far from susan's prison, defo relates. he's also aquatic by nature.

okay, so the move back to cali does happen. over the months of her kids coming to visit her in prison susan can see how exhausted the teenagers are and she's p much just like, 'u guys gotta go. get outta this rural heckhole u hate, stop bringing urselves n my bby to this dismal place.' and they don't think she's serious but the next time they come to visit, she doesn't meet them, so. yup. serious it is. billy, max, n baby take neil's life insurance money and head off to cali.

this is a modern au, okay, inmates sneaking smartphones into the prison n all that. so susan makes deals and friends and does favors, and gets some help from the ones who are good at bitcoin and scams and counterfeiting and what have you. this enables her to do discreet online "shopping." so she gets ducky all kinds of rubber ducks, at least a handful of times a year. the ducks get more unique and less childish as ducky grows. susan apologizes almost every time she talks to the older kids on the phone for like, five yrs. max isn't rly angry with how things ended with neil tho, more so has that residual anger that susan ever got together with neil in the first place. billy doesn't rly know what to feel tbh, accepts the apologies p numbly bc he's too damn exhausted with being the primary caregiver in over his head to even think abt how he feels at the end of the day.

susan gets released on good behavior around the same time ducky comes out, announcing she's a girl. it's an adjustment for billy and max to get used to bc they never rly suspected, but they're 100% supportive. susan is...oddly excited? not for selfless reasons (tho she is earnestly supportive) but bc it's like. not only does that mean trashing the masculine deadname neil had adamantly declared for ducky, but it means all in all, she got out at the perfect time bc she gets to be introduced to the authentic version of her child along w errbody else. makes her feel less left behind, like she didn't miss out on errything despite being put away for a decade. susan moves in with all of them, obvi, in a small house by the seaside filled to the brim with rubber ducks (billy and max also contributed to ducky's collection on birthdays and holidays, the first duck billy ever got has skulls, and the first max ever got is a frankenstein monster duck). home is cluttered, awkward, and tentative but free of fear and ripe with *genuine* new beginnings.

believe me, anonymoose, i am just as surprised as u are at how fuckin long this got.

#ask box #susan hargrove #max mayfield #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #anonymoose #thanks for playing!#ask meme #ask game #child oc

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minecraftoworymode · 5 years ago

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picked a whole bouquet of whoopsie-daisies the other day reading some Very badfeel content so to cheer myself up here’s some super self-indulgent ramblings about romeo recovery post-s2

“YOU CAN DANCE IF YOU WANT TO YOU CAN LEAVE YOUR INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY BEHIND” or how romeo learned to stop worrying and indulge in the ““feminine”“ shit in life

when romeo transitioned he scrubbed everything that could be potentially viewed as feminine from his appearance and behaviour. while he did everything he could about the former (hairstyle, clothing, body language, voice), it didn’t feel like enough bc he couldn’t change some things that ppl used to be jerks- his frame (short and lithe), his family, his being trans- so he made up for it by trying to “act” like a “real man”. this unfortunately meant he was super vulnerable to manipulative alt-right indoctrination tactics (”we will validate you as a man as long as you endorse our assholery and share our shitty beliefs about what it means to be a man”) and he was on the verge of getting sucked into gamergate ideology when [THIS LORE IS ANOTHER POST] and hey, now the world is minecraft. u dont gotta perform gender roles for villagers they dont care. xara will not only actually eat ur liver for pulling The Bullshit but when you are kind she smiles, so bright and warm, and it is very very nice so maybe you should keep on doing that. n fred? fred is chill with their Everything in a way uve only ever Dreamed of. romeo marinates in this sauce for a couple centuries and comes the closest to being comfortable in his own skin he’s ever been.

however,

after the Incident he slam-dunked himself back into the hypermasculinity juice bc it was a mindset “safe” from feeling pain, whether his or others’. n since the worlds the admins created dont have the same ideas of gender as the world they came from, once he’s been dethroned romeo has a particularly hard time adjusting wrt That on top of all the other 2750347502730 issues he has to face

anyway flash forward a couple months of being incredibly volatile bc he now has to confront all the terrible things he did and how Dare u make him do that and maybe if hes nasty enough he can provoke someone into killing him and saving him from having to unpack All Of That- (note from @simple-mooshroom-herder: Xara and Jesse at least grasp that Romeo will probably burn himself out on this bullshit eventually and the best thing to do is interact with him with a certain level of healthy detachment. Eventually he'll see that theres no "getting out of this" and he'll start to do the Work but until then its very frustrating to see that tactic take him nowhere.)

- one day petra notices how he’s constantly staring at all the ppl wearing cute dresses in beacontown and at first she thinks he's being creepy but then realizes that he's not being creepy and actually she knows exactly how he feels bc she also used to look at ppl wearing clothes super not suited for combat like that, like she wished she could wear them too, like if she just didnt have to keep up this image of the Warrior who is Not Soft Ever-

n ok. listen. these worlds have been specifically engineered to be better and kinder than the one the admins came from, and when people mess up- even REALLY mess up- people are generally not only willing to forgive you but support you as you try and get better. it’s instinctual for communities to respond to misdeeds with rehabilitation and reconciliation, rather than retaliation and renunciation (tho its not an overnight thing and it generally takes 1-3 people to spearhead the process, esp if the actions have affected a large group of people). like. ivor created something that almost destroyed the entire world, not just beacontown, yet by the end of season one he’s grown to be a part of the team- n its not just jesse & co being forgiving here, bc when ivor made his s1 build with 3 lava source blocks people objected to it, but by s2 he not only has lava in his build but a giant lake of it. (im assuming the fences around said lake are coming eventually, bc safety is still important, but the implications im choosing to take from this are a) despite almost ending the world people let him into their lives anyway and b) the community not only grew to accept but encourage his self-expression.)

BUT ANYWAY before i go off on that even more one day petra and romeo basically put on an impromptu fashion show in jesse’s house (bc their house is huge and, kind of perfect for a fashion show, and also right next to the order hall’s armory whence they stole a bunch of fancy swords to match the outfits) n theyre having a blast until the hero in residence , returns to their residence (and with COMPANY) n romeo is absolutely Mortified- caught red-handed showing feelings of an almost human nature, oh my god, this will NOT do- n this whole grand soliluquy of shame and excuses and apologies grabs the steering wheel of his tongue but he cant even spit a single syllable out bc jesse and lukas almost immediately dip leaving romeo panicking for a second before they come back with their inventories FULL of cute outfits, including a billion skirts and dresses, some of them are even enchanted so theyre like. super shiny or constantly flowing or things like that.

this actually ends up spiralling into a town-wide... not quite fashion show bc there's no runway or anything, everyone just shows up in their cutest/coolest outfits .. fashion convention?? Anyway several people come up to him and compliment him on his outfit casually before continuing along, not recognizing him not only bc of how hes done his hair and makeup n what hes wearing but he just seems... so happy (he might be wearing something on his head? like a headpiece or hat or something? but also maybe not hmm)- whoever this is, he's not hunched over like he's got several centuries' worth of sins crawling on his back he’s not trying to shrink and make small a human-shaped apology for the simple fact of his existence not dragging his feet like hes ready for, dreading, a hundred mile trek through the desert repenting hes just. hes literally just Vibing

anyway he's mostly been silent or just providing very quiet "thank you"s but when it turns out that some people showed up ready to play music and there's a song that he knows he literally cant help but start jamming out its the GOod Stim everyones a-dancing and a-jiving and some people start to sing and so of course he does too (the healing power of dancing and singing in cute outfits.... unfathomable) but. ppl recognize his voice

and after a few seconds he notices how quiet it's gotten all of a sudden n everyones looking at him like "oh shit thats the admin" and honestly his heart breaks. visibly

but

then someone starts singing, so quiet it takes a moment for him to hear over the sound of an encroaching panic attack (oh god he has airpods in), but when he looks over theyre smiling - theyre smiling at hiM???? AND IT DOESNT EVEN LOOK MEAN??- and doing this very simple step, that he catches onto just as easily as he matches their singing (its a fairly common little tune n dance)

theyre like standing like a good few meters away but as they take turns with lines in the song they slowly inch closer

and he thinks hes starting to recognize the dance that the steps theyre doing is from but at the part in the song thats coming up ur supposed to allemande left and even tho theyre like, less than a meter away now literally no one has really wanted to get close to him, let alone actually touch him, so hes totally expecting them to be like 'psych' and humiliate him in front of the entire crowd-

BUT THEN THEY ACTUALLY GO FOR IT???

he completes the step without even thinking about it n continues onto the next in this state of dull bewilderment where there is but one braincell active in his head and it is just going, in a very tiny voice, "danser?"

- when they linked arms the person briefly seemed surprised that he didn't like, chew their arm off or anything (he had. kind of snapped at people a few times during the past few weeks), but then their shock turned into a wide smile and they sort of- nodded? at someone over his shoulder like 'come and join us, it doesn't look like he's going to kill me after all you guys can put the eulogy writing on hold'

what rly makes his heart do the confused and hopeful conga is that this isnt even anyone romeo knows, its a total stranger. or- like- he saw them while he was pretending to be jesse he just didnt care to get to know them beyond ‘name and gimmick’- its not even someone who has any reason to think he'd be cool to befriend its literally jsut someone taking a chance on him (tkae a chance take a chance take a chance take a cha)

afterwards hes like "i should thank jesse for putting you up to that, it was fun" and theyre like "what? jesse didn't "put me up to" anything, dude, you just looked super choked. * something something surfer lingo who would i be if i just left someone to feel bad when they could be having fun dancing you know?*"

he H

#ng+#msg #i said this was super self-indulgent and i was not lying #i call ng+ my mcsm project and thats literal

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