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fearplay scenarios that makes sub!rapline hearts hammer

↪ 🎃 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐈 | ◄ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲╎𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ►

↪ today’s kink is 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. 💓 ft. the 𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞.

↪ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | yoongi’s scenario is an interrogation roleplay; namjoon’s includes fear of drowning. hobi’s scenario is warning-free.

↪ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | other kinks include roleplay with yoongi, and hypnosis with namjoon.

❝𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘣 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘈 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴.❞

“Really, boss? You’re sure?” A phone is glued to your ear, your hips are tilted, and your arms are crossed. You look as casual as you feel. The red, tear-streaked eyes glaring at you are a fuzz in the corner of your vision. Lashed to the chair with thick rope, 𝙔𝙊𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙄 is almost choking on the cloth gag tied around his head. You give Yoongi a thin glance. He hasn’t blinked since you finished tugging the binds tight. “Alright,” you respond to a tinny voice, “don’t worry, boss. Leave it to me.” A touch of realism lights this roleplay up in flames. Yoongi is already in deep. The first time you tried this scenario, he enjoyed it. Now that you’ve enlisted the help of a friend to play the role of the boss, the fact that you aren’t carrying out a conversation with air is tensing up your fuzzy senses. You hang up. The phone sets down on the bed next to your unrolled toolkit. When you put a hand on Yoongi’s tense shoulder, your lips fall down to whisper in his ear. “I won’t let it hurt more than it has to. Do you understand?” Chances are high that he’s a traitor. You still love this man. You can feel Yoongi’s shoulder relaxing. That relaxation will disappear when the boss calls again. With a knowing cool in her voice, she’ll request that you put everything on videochat. The emotional notes of this roleplay hit perfectly. Betrayal. Fear. Comfort. A little pain, a lot of fear―the ultimate romanticism of seeing the growing pain in your eyes as the boss mentions something about “an eye for an eye.” When you shut off your phone and unbind Yoongi quickly, pulling him to the kitchen feels like racing through corridors. Panting breath and safety finds your hands on his face, and a mess of two desperate bodies falling to the tile. Both of you are a little bothered by the low probability anybody would be foolish enough to fuck in a situation like this. Neither of you are bothered enough to care.

“Oh―” A pump of bass blares from the speakers, and 𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙊𝙆'𝙎 body slides down against yours. “No,” you put a hand on his wrist, “no covering your eyes.” His hands flew up to his face at the same moment his whole body squeezed down like he was trying to melt. Beyond the ghostly glow of the television screen, the living room is pitch black. The pair of hips between your thighs slowly shift back up. Under the thick blanket, combined body heats have created a pocket of warmth over the floor. You piled the blankets and pillows in front of the television. The screen is close. If you let Hoseok crawl forwards, he could touch it. The hand wrapped around his cock has stopped moving. Hoseok’s fingers lower down onto his gleaming cheeks, and you can see the hint of teeth glinting through his wide smile as his gaze trembles back towards you. Around his profile, the television screen is a thrum of electronic lines and dots. A twisted visage has disappeared, but you know the release of tension won’t last forever. You’re resting your chin on Hoseok’s shoulder. His sweater is amazingly soft. You furrow your brows with an exaggerated scold. “No looking at me, either.” You reach up, put two fingers on his jaw, and guide his face back towards the screen. “You promised to watch this movie with me. Remember?” Excitement trembles up Hoseok’s spine, and pulses back into you. A stilted breath escapes his nose. The laugh is nervous. When you drop your fingers away from under his chin, Hoseok’s eyes stay fixed in the correct direction. “Good job,” you whisper, and slide your tight grip up, “it’s almost finished.”

𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙅𝙊𝙊𝙉'𝙎 trust is open-hearted. He doesn’t believe he could be hurt when you’re nearby. The trappings of an antique pocketwatch appeal to something layered deep into his psyche, and close a door in his heart. "It’s trite, right?” Namjoon disparaged his own suggestion. “I mean,” he shrugged, “a pocketwatch? We can use something else. Like, a necklace, or... we don’t need something like that. You can just talk to me.” Now, the pocketwach relaxes him with tension the moment the chain glints out of a drawer. Icy glass locks over Breguet hands that tick and turn slowly under the calm of your voice―when you suggest the narrative over Namjoon, he’s gasping and making little sounds of amazement at every twist. You have the script memorized. “The water is rising. You can breathe. But it’s licking under your nose. You’re still trying to escape. But part of you has already accepted your fate. Your hands fumble with the combination lock, but everything is cold under the water―” Supine on the bed, Namjoon holds his hands in the air. Fingers move slowly; trembling, and turning. Light catches on his slowly rising and falling stomach. Each inhale is sharp, though, and they suck through his nose in whistles. You swirl your foot. You ignore the tingles of numbness. You’re afraid to make noise re-crossing your legs over the chair parked by the side of the bed. Worries seem overblown. It was too easy to put Namjoon under. Even if he’s just lost inside layers of roleplay, the air changed. That must be why you hold your body completely still―this spell is washing over you, too. Namjoon’s hand turns, and you’re spinning the hum through the room towards its inevitable conclusion.

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