#but i also don't apply any of these kinks to my own life; that stays well in the realm of fiction thank youuuu

[bellyburdens]

God I want to RP the most belly-kink heavy RP so bad rn. Just, total loss of control, discomfort, and forced vulnerability. The poor carrier dealing with so many tummy symptoms during their pregnancy- acid reflux, gurgles and all kinds of stomach noises, gas from both ends, extremely oversensitive and easily nauseous, bizarre cravings, overeating, hyperemesis… all of it. Really, that's just the start- extremely sensitive breasts and nipples, sore feet, exhaustion, dizziness, overheating, feeling faint- where the entire pregnancy is a struggle and you can't catch a break.

Meanwhile, their lover is nearly ashamed of how turned on they are seeing their partner like this all the time. Sure, they'd toyed around with forced helplessness and loss of control in their sex life before. But this is the culmination of that idea. His partner is so swollen and heavy, completely unable to hide it. Someone normally so capable now has to rely on him constantly for assistance. Even when they're sick as can be, he's still more attracted to them than ever- and willing to do anything to help distract them and make them feel better.

The carrier having indulged a craving, maybe unknowingly overreating a meal that would give them food poisoning? They've been trying to ignore the pains, not sure whether to suspect labor or bad food disagreeing with their system. Certainly not expecting both. Shocked when they puke out of nowhere in front of everyone, and their water breaks from the force of everything.

Their partner ushering them into the bedroom to try and help, pulling off soaked clothing and trying not to think about how gorgeous the carrier's body looks like this. How pretty their flushed face is, hair sticking to their skin as their pant. While they're leaned over the toilet, losing the contents of their stomach and moaning for it to stop, their partner curling around the carrier's back, reaching a hand between their legs to touch them while his other arm curls around their belly and presses in.

When they're exhausted, the carrier is sitting on the toilet, losing their stomach contents from both ends, retching into a trashcan precariously balanced on their knees and hugged against their massive, contracting belly. Trying nipple stimulation to speed up the process, helpless to the whims of their body. Their partner, whispering hushed words of support and comfort, wondering what other ways they could ease the pain…

[starkstruck27]

My next fill for @metalsandwichbingo !! This might be the first time I've ever done two withing 24 hours without having them pre-written. Also, as much as I love Steve and Billy, in this one, I went with the idea that when they met, instead of going 'I can fix him', I went with 'I can make him worse'. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys, and title comes from the song MUD by Dorothy. Title: You Ain't Living Life til You're Down in the Mud Square + Prompt: A2, On his knees, Mouth open Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4774 Words Major Tags: Chose Not to Use* Additional Tags: Crushes, Extremely Dubious Consent, Consensual non-consent, Bullying, Billy Hargrove being an asshole, Steve Harrington being an asshole, Face-fucking, Hair-pulling, Choking, Restraints, Marking, Eddie Munson has a piss kink, Wet & messy, Dacryphilia, Name-calling, Dirty talk, Humiliation Kink, Consensual but not Safe or Sane Summary: Eddie Munson is seriously fucked up. It's fitting that everyone calls him a freak. He doesn't exactly know why he has a crush on the two guys who have made his life a living hell for the past month, but here he is. As long as no one finds out about it, though, he should be fine. But one day, after Billy trips him in the hall, he loses his journal, the one where he writes down every disgusting, filthy thing he wishes they would do to him. And unfortunately, he can't find it anywhere. Also on: Ao3 *TW for this one, I didn't use any major tags because none of them really apply, but when I say things like "extremely dubious consent" and "consensual non-consent" I mean them. Consent is not explicitly given for most of the story, but it is there. If these or any other tags bother you, please don't read. Stay safe and sane out there, lovelies!!

It had only been a month since Billy Hargrove moved to Hawkins, a month since he met up with Steve Harrington and become his best friend, a month of nothing but torment and suffering for Eddie Munson. He didn’t know why, but Steve and Billy had decided to make him their own special project, picking on him relentlessly and making his life a living hell, as if it weren’t already bad enough being the super-senior who’s dad was in jail and who’s mom was dead, so he had to live with his uncle who was always working just so they could afford to live. Add on the claims that he worshiped the devil and the fact that he hung out with losers and freaks, and you’ve got the recipe for the easiest target in the history of American high school. 

And of course, it didn’t help that Eddie knew he had a fucked up life, so when he started to develop a sick form of attraction to the people who constantly bullied him, he almost didn’t question it. It still kinda freaked him out a little, but at this point, he’d just accepted it as another thing that was happening in his stupid, fucked little head. Besides, he knew there was absolutely no way anything would ever happen there, so he figured, if his brain was gonna make him think that was what he wanted, he would rather just enjoy it instead of working himself up about it.

So he did what any person would do when they had no one to talk to about this sort of stuff, he wrote it down. He kept a journal anyway, so why not put down his fantasies and when he could one day afford a therapist, scar them for life with it so they could figure out what exactly was wrong with him? He never wanted anyone else to find it though, so he always kept it on his person, and when he went home at night, put it in the very back of the drawer in his nightstand. If anyone else ever got ahold of it, he wouldn’t even be run out of town, they’d probably just kill him on the spot, and that was unideal to say the least, so it was safer just to keep it with him at all times. 

It was a relatively small journal, one that he could fit in his back pocket, and that’s just where it was that day when the bell finally rang and he was able to head to his last class of the day. So far he’d been able to avoid Steve and Billy enough that there were no major incidents, and he was so close to going a whole day without having to endure their shit, but just as that thought entered his head, he rounded the corner only to run smack into Billy. He then found himself face-planting into the linoleum, his stuff flying everywhere and everyone around them laughing. 

Eddie sighed as he picked himself up, less upset about being tripped than he was about having to gather up all his shit. He’d had all kinds of notes for his next campaign with the guys, and now they were all over the hallway, getting stepped on and ignored by his peers. Except for two nice girls, nobody helped him to get his stuff, and instead they went about their days as if nothing had happened. 

“Billy’s such a jerk,” the one girl said as she handed Eddie his notebook stuffed with papers. She was wearing a cheer outfit and had a nice smile. “He’s always making rude comments to us when we practice. I swear, one day, I’m gonna tell him off.”

“All five foot three of you?” The other girl asked, smirking at her before helping Eddie up. She had a flannel shirt on and glasses and her hair was a fiery red. “But seriously, she’s right. Don’t let him get you down.”

“I never do,” Eddie replied, dusting himself off and smiling, “Thanks for the help, ladies.”

The two girls walked off and Eddie let his smile fall. He’d really been hoping for just one day without anything happening, but that was out the window now. Still, there was only one class left in the day, so he just had to sit through that, and then he could go home.

It wasn’t until he got home that day that he realized his journal wasn’t in his pocket. A cold shock hit him square in the chest as he ran out to his van, praying that it had just fallen out onto the seat. He searched the entire car, but there was no trace of it, so he went back inside and tore the place apart trying to find it. He was close to crying as he realized it was nowhere to be found, and he had to splash cold water on his face to get himself to calm down enough to think rationally. He remembered being tripped earlier in the day and figured that must’ve been when he’d lost it, since that was the last time he remembered having it. And as he got in his van and sped back to the school, he prayed that it had just slid under some lockers and he could go and get it with little to no resistance.

When he got to the school, he ran through the halls until he got to the one where Billy had tripped him, and he got down on his hands and knees to check under each locker, but he came up with nothing. He felt like the world was closing in around him, and he started to cry as he sank down and curled into a ball against the lockers. He sat there for a while, but finally he realized there was nothing he could do about it, so he made a plan to check the office tomorrow and see if anyone turned it in, and if not, he’d figure out his next steps later.

Meanwhile, across town, Steve and Billy were hanging out at his house, enjoying his heated pool and more than a few beers. They were fucking around and shootin’ the shit when eventually, they started talking about Eddie.

“He’s getting pretty good at avoiding us,” Steve said, “I didn’t even see him hardly at all today, and when I did, he was too far away to do anything.”

“Yeah, he’s a slippery little fucker,” Billy agreed, shaking water from his hair, “But I managed to trip him earlier today, so not all hope is lost. Oh! And I almost forgot,” Billy hoisted himself out of the pool and went over to his bag, drying his hands quickly before rooting around and pulling out a small green notebook. “This fell out of his pocket earlier today. Whattaya say? Wanna read the freak’s diary? I took a quick peek earlier and there is some fucked up shit in there.”

“Like what?” Steve asked, sitting up on the edge of the pool as Billy tossed the notebook to him. He caught it and waited for Billy to come sit next to him, and then the two of them started to read. It started out tame enough, mostly just a lot of questioning as to why his life was so messed up, and a lot of insecure thoughts. But just when they were getting bored and were about to stop reading, it got interesting. 

They read all about how Eddie was somehow fixated on them, how he had wet dreams sometimes about the two of them and how he hated that, but as they kept reading, how he finally just accepted it. He detailed everything he ever thought about them doing to him, from choking him and making him cry to forcing him and marking him like a dog. It was a treasure trove of everything he’d ever fantasized about, and it was all pure gold. There were so many new possibilities, now. Blackmail, humiliation, exposure, and the list just went on from there. By the time they finished reading, though, they’d come up with something far more rewarding than anything else, and they couldn’t wait to put their plan into action.

The next day was bright and sunny, although still a little chilly for the beginning of November. The weather was the last thing on Eddie’s mind though as he got to school, heading straight to the principal’s office before going to homeroom. He talked to the front desk lady and asked if he could look through the lost and found, but after ten minutes of going through every item in there, he had nothing. The pit in his stomach sank down deeper, but he thanked the receptionist and trudged off to class, shoving his palms in his eyes to try and keep from crying again.

The day went surprisingly well after that, all things considered. He got a math test back that he didn’t fail, and Billy and Steve seemed too concerned with the big basketball game tomorrow to be bothered with him, so as long as he kept to himself, Eddie managed to get through the day fairly easily. He still felt anxious, though, and every time he saw Cheer girl or Flannel girl in the hall, he hoped they’d come up and say they got his notebook by mistake and give it back to him, but no such luck. There were no whispers in the halls or anybody coming up to humiliate him with it either, though, so he had hope that maybe nobody had found it yet and he still had time to get it before anyone did.

That was still the only thing on his mind at the end of the day when he went back to his locker to get his stuff, and it only went away when he saw a post-it note sitting on top of his jacket. He picked it up and read the message, and sighed as he crumpled it up and stuck it in his pocket. It only had one word on it, ‘picnic’, and anybody who was in the know at Hawkins high could tell you what that meant. As much as Eddie just wanted to go home and relax for the night, he also needed the money, so he grabbed his lunch box and started making his way to the table just beyond the treeline where he always went to sell. 

When he got there, though, there was no one else in sight. He couldn’t hear leaves or sticks crunching, so he figured maybe in the time that they’d left the note and now, whoever wanted to buy from him had chickened out. He decided to wait for a few minutes just in case, but when nobody came after five, he cut his losses and started making his way back to the parking lot. 

He only got halfway there when someone grabbed him by the jacket sleeve and yanked him backwards, using one hand to hold onto him and the other to cover his mouth. He tried to struggle, but it was no use, whoever this was was a hell of a lot stronger than he was, and they were holding him at just the right angle to keep him from getting a solid footing. He had a pretty good idea of who was behind this, and a sense of dread crept up his spine and into his throat as he stopped struggling and tried to think of an escape plan.

“Here?” He heard Billy say, and tears sprang to his eyes.

“No, I heard the track team is running this trail today, one of them could see us. I know another place, c’mon,” Steve answered him, and Eddie could feel him talking from where he held him against his chest. At that point, any sense of wanting to escape had left him, and was replaced with a sense of panic so strong, he couldn’t think straight. He wasn’t even in control of himself, really, and when Steve started dragging him back to the parking lot with Billy in tow, Eddie didn’t even put up a fight. He didn’t like this, he wanted to run away, but his mind was so frantic it couldn’t send the signal down to his legs, and so he just let Steve manhandle him, all the way into the back of Billy’s car.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He finally got the nerve to ask as Steve climbed in the back with him and Billy started to drive. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere nobody will find us,” Steve said, a wicked grin on his face.

“What are you gonna d-do to me?” Eddie asked, hardly noticing that Steve was taking his jacket off of him as he heard Billy laugh in the front seat. He held up Eddie’s missing notebook and his eyes went wide as he tried to lunge for it. He didn’t even get halfway there before Steve grabbed his arms and wrestled them behind his back, tying them together a little too tightly with an old shoelace.

“Give that back!” He tried, but it only made the other two laugh.

“Listen, Freak, it doesn’t matter anyway, we already read it,” Steve said, “So if you want us to keep this between us and not plaster the pages all over the school, I suggest you shut up and do what we say, capisce? Now drink this.”

Eddie was too stunned to do anything but comply. He opened his mouth as Steve held a water bottle for him, and he made him drink the whole thing plus a second one while he gave Billy directions. By the time he was halfway through the third bottle, the car finally stopped, and Steve let him stop drinking so they could get out of the car. They were at the top of the cliffs surrounding the quarry, one of the most secluded places in all of Hawkins, nobody would think to look for any of them up here. That was all Eddie could think about as he was helped out of the car, and it did nothing to help his nerves, or his bladder. He felt like he was about to burst, he’d already kinda had to pee before any of this started, but now with two and a half bottles of water in him, he was desperate. Still, his hands were tied. Literally. 

“Get on your knees, Freak,” Steve spat, pushing Eddie down on the rocky ground and smiling as he winced.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He asked, his heart racing and his body starting to feel restless. It kinda felt good, now that he’d gotten used to it, but he had no idea what was gonna happen, and that was the only thing that made him nervous.

“We read your little diary,” Billy said, “And we thought, we could do a lot of fun things with this, but we decided this was the best idea we had. So here’s the deal, you do what we tell you and keep your mouth shut, and we give you exactly what you want.”

“And,” Steve chimed in, “If you behave and act like a good little slut, we won’t accidentally leave this open in the library for someone else to find. Sound fair?”

Eddie wasn’t sure how to respond for a minute, he still had no idea what Billy meant when he said they’d give him ‘exactly what he wanted’, but if he were being honest, he’d rather do what they said and maybe get his journal back rather than refusing and it getting out to everyone. Besides, the morbidly curious part of his brain wanted to go through with it, so finally he nodded.

“Wh-whatever you say,” he said, and Billy and Steve both smiled.

“Good choice,” Steve said, then walked over and grabbed Eddie by the hair, making his mouth fly open from the painful grip and making the pressure in his groin build. “That’s a good slut, you like it when I pull your hair? I bet you like it whenever I do anything to you, huh? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me lately? Afraid you’re gonna pop a boner if I hit you hard enough?”

Eddie couldn’t deny that this was starting to feel better than it should have. The names, the insults, the pain, the desperation, it was all strangely provocative, and his head was starting to get a little foggy as Billy came over to add fuel to the fire.

“That must’ve been why you scurried away so fast last week when I pinned you to the lockers,” he said, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s throat, but only adding enough pressure to make sure Eddie could feel it. “You’re such a dirty little freak, getting off on fucked up shit like this. Did you touch yourself after last week? Did you jerk off or shove a couple fingers up your ass, or maybe both? I bet it was both, and I bet you wished it was one of us that was fucking you instead of just your hand, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes,” Eddie mumbled, but it mustn’t have been good enough, because next thing he knew Billy was digging the toe of his boot into his stomach, right where his bladder would be. Eddie started to breathe heavier, his eyes starting to feel wet again as he did everything he could to keep his composure. He had to go so bad, and the other two just laughed as he started to whine like a toddler. “Yes, okay?! You’re right! I was horny and I fucked myself in the school bathroom and I wished it was you, okay?!”

“Good job, slut,” Billy smiled, finally letting up and taking a step back. Steve followed and stood next to him, and the two seemed to tower over him as they stared him down.

“Piss yourself,” Steve said, and Eddie almost cried.

“What?” He asked, his voice small and pathetic.

“You heard me, now do it. Piss yourself,” he repeated.

“You can’t be serious,” Eddie whined, a couple of tears escaping. This was so humiliating.

“I’m dead serious, now fucking do it,” Steve demanded, getting in Eddie’s face and grabbing his hair again, pulling hard. Eddie let out a cry of pain and Steve let up, stepping back again and watching as Eddie cried.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. It felt so good to be used like this, but it was also the most mortifying ordeal he’d ever been through in his life. He couldn’t believe they wanted him to do this, but finally, he just couldn’t hold it anymore. He started crying harder as he started to go, sobbing a bit as he soaked his jeans. He suddenly regretted wearing the blue ones today, since the black ones would’ve made it harder to see, but with the blue, it was easy to tell what he was doing. He knew the other two could tell, he could hear them laughing and mocking him, and as much as it hurt, it also heightened the thrill a little bit. And when he finally finished, his jeans soaked through and his face red from crying, they made their way back over, grinning widely.

“Can’t believe you actually did it,” Billy said, licking his lips. “Now, sit up and open your mouth.”

Eddie nodded and sniffed a little, leaning his head to the side to try and wipe his face on his shoulder, but then he did as he was told. He sat up and opened his mouth, and then he waited, watching as the two of them unzipped their jeans and got their own dicks out. Then, without any more warning, Billy grabbed him by his hair, shoving his dick into Eddie’s mouth, and holding his head down until he started to choke.

“Does that feel good, slut?” He asked as he let him up, barely giving him enough time to take a breath, much less answer, before pushing him back down. He fucked his throat hard, already reducing him to tears again and barely giving him any breaks except to breathe. Steve egged him on, encouraging his buddy to hold him down longer, to really give it to him, and if Eddie whimpered or made a noise, he’d mock him, making him feel even more ashamed and making him enjoy it more and more with each insult hurled his way.

Eddie was crying harder as Billy kept it up, until finally, he stopped. He pulled out of his mouth before finishing, and as Eddie coughed and finally managed to catch his breath, he just stood there, watching and laughing. It sent a wave of embarrassed excitement shoot through Eddie, and if he hadn’t been hard before, he certainly was now. He could feel the ache against his wet jeans, which were cooling rapidly and making him shiver, which didn’t help his desperation to come right then and there. But before he could get himself composed enough to do it, Steve noticed, and he grabbed Eddie by the face this time as he spoke to him.

“You better not even think about coming until I say you can. Otherwise I’ll leave you here tied up and by the time you find a way to get back home, the entire town will have read your little diary, understand me?” He asked, and as much as it pained him, Eddie nodded. “Good. Now open your fucking mouth again.”

Eddie once again did as he was told, and Steve wasted no time in giving him the same treatment that Billy had. He fucked his throat mercilessly and Eddie just took it. It wasn’t as hard this time, he’d gotten kinda used to it, and even though it was still rough, he was starting to like it that way. This was what he’d been fantasizing about for over a month now, anyway, and it was being presented to him on a silver platter. He might as well enjoy it, right?

Once he’d gotten used to the intrusion in his throat, it didn’t seem to take quite as long, and before he knew it, Steve was pulling out of his mouth, too, he and Billy standing over him and stroking their cocks, and finally, coming all over him. He let them take their time, his clothes were already ruined and his face was a mess, so they couldn’t do much more damage now than they already had. When they were done, he waited patiently for their next orders, a twinge of fear still twisting in his gut as Steve smirked at him. He didn’t do anything, though, just traced his fingers over his ruined shirt and then lifted his hand, shoving his fingers into Eddie’s mouth, covered in come. 

“Swallow it,” he commanded, and Eddie did, his throat burning a bit from being used so harshly.

“Good slut,” Billy said, grinning widely. “Now, that little book of yours said that if you were ever in a situation like this with the two of us, you’d want us to mark you like a dog, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yeah,” Eddie swallowed, his voice thick. “P-please.”

“Aww, look at that, the bitch is begging,” Steve laughed meanly, then looked at Billy, “What do you think, Bill? Is the little freak worth claiming as ours?”

“Fuck yeah, why not? Not like he can do much about it, and I like the idea of being able to fuck him up like this any time I want, don’t you?” Billy replied, grabbing his now limp dick and winking at his friend as he started to piss all over Eddie. Steve nodded and did the same, the two of them covering him from head to toe. Eddie couldn’t help but make a noise of pleasure as they did, the warmth of their piss almost a comfort in the chilly November evening. Not only that, but it was unbelievably erotic to be claimed by someone like this, animalistic instincts taking over and making them act so filthily, and Eddie couldn’t get enough of it. He was so close, and this just added another layer of desperation that he liked, but he was so ready to toss that feeling aside and let himself blow.

When they were finally done, Steve and Billy tucked themselves away and straightened themselves out, making sure they looked normal, and completely ignoring Eddie for a minute until they were satisfied with themselves. Then they turned their attention back to a squirming, whining Eddie, ready to leave him with one last indignity.

“You wanna come now, bitch?” Billy asked, licking his lips again as Eddie nodded vigorously. “Then you’re gonna have to work for it like the fucking dog you are, come here.”

Eddie listened easily and shuffled forward on his knees until he was at Billy’s feet, and once he was, he looked up for further directions. Billy didn’t give any, instead he just stuck his leg out, and Eddie got the hint right away.

“You s-sure?” He asked, still a little nervous to make a wrong move. 

“Yeah, go on. Be a good fucking dog and get yourself off,” Billy said, and Steve nodded along, clearly holding back a laugh. Eddie didn’t care if they laughed anymore though, he was too wound up to give a shit, so he didn’t let himself even think about it as he settled Billy’s leg between both of his and started to hump it like a dog. It felt so damn good, the humiliation mixed with the actual physical sensations feeling like the most perfect blend in the universe. He knew it had been less than a minute before he finally came with a moan, even thirty seconds was being generous, but it was the best orgasm he’d ever had, and as concerning that probably should’ve been to him, he just didn’t care right then. 

Once he’d ridden out his orgasm as long as he could, Eddie fell over on his side. His knees were throbbing from him kneeling on the gravel for so long, and his arms and hands were tired from being in the same position for so long. His throat felt like it was on fire, and his eyes were burning, too, from crying so much. He was tired and dirty and getting cold, and he could hear the other two laughing at him, but he was too blissed out to care about any of it. 

After a minute or so, Steve came up behind him again and untied the shoelace from his wrists. He must’ve gone back to the car at some point as Eddie had laid there, because he tossed his jacket and the unfinished water bottle from earlier down next to him. Eddie finally found the strength to sit up and was about to thank him, but before he could, Steve spoke first. 

“Remember our deal, Freak. This stays between us, or we show that book to everyone, understand?” He asked, and Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” he rasped, a goofy smile on his face. These two really weren’t so scary, now that he thought about it.

“Good. And maybe if you keep yourself in line like a good little bitch, we can really ruin you, just like you want,” Billy added, grabbing Eddie by the hair one last time and staring him down. “Remember, you’re ours now. We own you.”

Eddie felt a strange tingle in his stomach when he heard that, and he looked back and forth between the other two for a moment before nodding. They nodded back and then let him go, the both of them going back to the car and climbing in, leaving Eddie there without even a glance back in his direction. 

Eddie sighed as he watched them drive off. He should’ve known that they weren’t going to start being nice to him, even after all this, so it shouldn’t have surprised him when they left him to find his own way home. He drank the rest of the water they’d left him with and tossed the bottle off the cliff, then braced himself to stand up. He cringed in pain as his knees straightened out after so long, and his feet were still kinda numb, but he’d have to walk it out eventually, so he might as well get a move on before it got really dark. He could worry about picking his van up tomorrow. At least Forest Hills wasn’t too far from here.

[cozytum]

Hullo! Nice to meet you! I have been wanting to make a blog on this topic for quite a while now, and I've finally mustered up the courage.

(Bear with me, I'm a bit shy 😭)

About My Blog, & What I'm Here For

I am into tickling & tummies, in the way dogs are into scratches behind the ears - I'm not getting anything sexual out of it, I just think they're nice. ☺️

I consider this a kink because I believe these topics should be treated with the same sensitivity, discretion, and respect for boundaries as sexual topics. But if you're here just for sexy themes, this blog is gonna disappoint you.

Most people would consider this blog SFW. Admittedly I'm not a huge fan of the term "SFW" as a descriptor (because it's rather ambiguous and I've seen a very broad range of interpretations on this site). but you're not gonna see anything explicit here.

Posts I deem as sorta-kinda-maaaybe inching into NSFW territory will be tagged as #suggestive.

This blog is NOT safe for minors. Minors attempting to interact will be blocked; anyone under 21 attempting to interact will be ignored. I'm just not comfy with that age gap.

Finally, all my posts and interactions are intended platonically (unless otherwise specified). I am already well spoken for in the romance department.

(more rambly footnotes on blog content below)

Some Additional Notes

This blog is chub-friendly.

Fat is beautiful, and everyone of ALL body types are welcomed here with open arms ❤️

(to be perfectly frank, I suspect I have a chub kink too in addition to my tummy tickling thing... stay tuned for more on this probably lol)

I'd also like to use this as a space to process my own relationship to my own tummy on here. I grew up with an extended family who was EXTREMELY fatphobic, but also parents who recognized it and did their level best to keep from passing it down - so I have a complex history with body image.

I also struggle with chronic illness, which has been dragging my weight all over hell's half acre for a solid decade now. Currently I'm trying to heal after a disastrous experience with a medication that left me underweight, so you might see me posting a bit on healthy weight gain and such as I navigate that.

But I must be clear: when it comes to acceptance, I do not assign value judgements based on a person's weight OR health.

Which means you are welcome here whether you are...

fat + healthy

fat + unhealthy

thin + healthy

thin + unhealthy

somewhere in between

Unsure and/or don't give a rat's ass whether any of the above categories apply.

I've spent significant portions of my life in all of the above states. I think the interplay of health and weight and body image is helpful to discuss, but never to judge.

Last but not least:

If anything I say or post compromises the safe space I'm hoping to create here, PLEASE reach out and let me know - through a DM, ask, tagged post, comment, whatever is comfiest for you. Heck, you could even use a burner account if you want. I'm flexible 😎

[mslanna]

Father of Liars

Be My Guest chapter 21 up on AO3

In which Mephistopheles comes to bargain and things go about as well as one can expect. Y’all can thank@red-dead-sakharine for this being one chapter and not cliff-hangered with Tav captured. My poll came ut 50/50 but he said he doesn’t like cliffhangers as a reader. 😅 Read his amazing stories while you’re over there.

Preparations to receive Maladomnia and Mephistopheles begin immediately. Tav doesn't get to see much of them. And as soon as Maladomnia is even close, they are banned to the suite with nibbles and drinks. They are allowed into the library, but only through the hidden passage.

At first Tav presses their ear to the sound proof door but it is actually sound proof. A good thing, considering the sounds regularly happening in this room. But not so nice when they try to find out what is happening in the throne room. Tav considers overindulging in the prepared treats, but they have no stomach for it.

Fortunately, wine always goes down and the buzz filling up their head numbs their mind. It also makes them very sleepy. Which is okay. Being woken up by disgruntled devil noises as they are picked up and carried to bed isn't the worst thing. There are kinks and cramps in Tav's back and shoulders from slumping over the table, but those are easily worked out.

With the test run on Maladomnia successful, prep begins to receive Mephistopheles. The prospect send electric lines through the House of Hope Tav can't escape. The devils are tense, anticipation drifting from their forms like superheated plasma. Eternal debtors have problems keeping the house in order. Haarlep suggested Tav try writing letters themself to keep occupied. Or maybe write a book. They should be done with that by the time the incubus has time on their hands again.

It feels like betrayal. Seeing the devils strut around like loaded weapons makes Haarlep's point for them nicely though. Tav won't kill anybody if they snap under the strain. And they do get plenty of stress relief. Not that any of it helps the day Raphael's father is expected.

Tav stands on the bed applying horn balm for the event. They know it takes them way too long, but Tav doesn't want to let go. They don't want to be left behind locked doors however much that is for their own safety. Raphael's wings enclose them as they work, humming to themself, though the melody got lost in the tension a while ago.

Mephistopheles. In the House of Hope. To Bargain. Tears prick at their eyes. But they understand. For his whole life, Raphael fought against that man, devil, entity. He didn't receive a single lick of recognition or appreciation for free. Unruly. Naughty. His father doesn't consider him more than a whiny brat. If that.

How can Raphael forgo the one chance he has to look his father in the face and show how wrong he is? Not that the result will be anything he wants. Devils, real devils cannot love. Tav knows they got lucky with their cambion. His father won't like him any better, he won't suddenly look at his son and think, yes, best thing to ever happen to me in my life. Well, not everybody got as lucky as Tav.

A melody weaves back into their hum and they rest their hands on Raphael's shoulders, nuzzling their face into his hair. “I will stay out of sight," they promise again.

Raphael turns, taking their hands in his and holding them tight. His eyes hone in on Tav's with piercing intensity. "You will stay safe."

"For you." Tav breathes a kiss over his lips.

For a moment it seems he will return the kiss. Then Raphael shakes his head. One kiss won't be the end of it. And he is needed elsewhere. He runs his fingers over Tav's face a final time instead. He hates to leave them behind, but this is too dangerous. His father will take advantage of Tav given a chance. Raphael cannot risk it.

In the background, preparations to rip Cania out of his father's hands are in motion. They will take a little longer yet until Cania is ready to the plucking. And then – then. Raphael straightens and composes his body language as he steps into the throne room.

Tav watches him leave, the familiar ache in their heart when his tail suddenly stops moving. There isn't even hope he won't have to do that any more when he rules all hells. But that is a sadness for another day. First, it is time to kill time. Tav takes a long hot bath, indulging on the prepared foods while reading. Then they retire to the library. Maybe writing letter will do them good. And they can at least tell everybody that things are progressing and they should be back soon. Soonish. Some day in the not too far future.

Tav stares at the parchment. At least there’s a greeting on it. This shouldn't be so hard. They're Tav's friends. They will delight in hearing from them. Just as Tav would love to get letters from any of them. It doesn't matter what's written, every word says "I care, you are missed, I think of you" and Tav means the same when they put pen to paper. And yet. And yet.

Tav sighs into a cup of tea long gone cold. Why not be honest then? I miss you. I long to see you again. But the quill doesn't move, doesn't dare commit those thoughts to paper.

Tav is saved unexpectedly, when their helldusk armour snaps into existence around them. They drop the quill and frown though habit made them get up immediately. The war hammer is familiar in their grip and they're halfway to the door before their brain catches up with them.

Can they leave the library? Mephistopheles is in in the house. All devils are gathered in the throne room- that thought does it. With everybody in one place, Tav has to do something. Otherwise the intruder could do anything. Tav opens the door quietly and peers down the hall. It is ghostly empty. The murmur of voices drifts up the stairs from the throne room.

Well, with Mephistopheles already down there, Tav has free reign to deal with intruder however they see fit. Still they sneak towards the foyer, avoiding the stairs to the throne room by a wide margin. The floor of the foyer already pulls away into a black hole outlined in fire when Tav arrives. They take up their usual position and wait.

It doesn't take long for a lone wanderer to drop out of the portal. Tav inhales sharply at the familiar figure. "Wyll?"

The warlock orients himself in their direction. "Tav! Thank the gods you're already armoured up! We need to help Karlach!"

Tav takes a stumbling step toward the portal. Then they freeze, a cold shiver hurtling down their spine. They cannot leave. If they leave-

"Please. We must hurry," Wyll begs and holds out his hand. When Tav still doesn’t move, he switches tracks quickly. "But I see you need more information. That's – I factored some time in for you to armour up. We can use that. Just," he looks around in hesitation, "take me to a place we can’t be overheard."

Something is off. But that he doesn't force them out immediately, calms Tav a little. And this is their home. If Wyll is willing to be taken to another location. "Come." They lead him to the library where he sticks close to the door.

"You know that Karlach kept away from the upheaval around the new governing structures of the hells. Understandably, I'd say. But it has now backfired and she is caught in the crossfire."

He paces and Tav frowns. "Where is she?"

"In Avernus, if that worries you. I'd never ask you to go deeper into the hells than you already, are. Not with your affliction."

Tav frowns harder. They cannot talk about their deal. Wyll, as a warlock, knows that. How can he know about their deal with Mephistopheles? Is he just guessing?

"Mephistopheles is here. He can't interfere. Please," he continues when Tav doesn't move.

How does he know? Tav bites their lip. How can he? Why did he appear in the foyer, when last time he easily found the window to the library? They were here just now. Tav can't put their finger on it and takes a step towards the door. The air hums, brittle, and shatters.

"A shame." Wyll's tone and diction changes into something utterly foreign. He points at Tav and mutters under his breath. "You could have made this so much easier on you."

A gasp escapes their mouth and when Tav tries to follow up with words – nothing. They stare at Wyll whose form wafts in the heating air. Then they take a step to the door and Wyll moves in to intercept.

"You said you could deliver them willingly." A voice from behind – warm and rich like chocolate with a cruel end note of chilli you didn't expect.

Tav turns, jaw and throat still working frantically without creating a single sound, as a group of three devils steps in through the arched windows. They are about twice Tav's size and two of them are armoured in helldusk armour more splendid than their own.

And then there's Mephistopheles. Why the fuck isn't he down in the throne room? If he is not down there, who is? What is going on? Tav trips over their thoughts, unable to sort their feet. And why would Wyll – Wyll – ever work with him? What could Mephistopheles promise the warlock? Their soul? In exchange for what?

"You said they trust you," the arch devil purrs. The sound runs down Tav's spine like ice water. "That they will follow you trustingly into my hand."

Wyll swallows. "The need of their friend would have convinced them. You revealed yourself too soon. If-"

"Tav was already bolting." Mephistopheles graces them with a wicked wink. "Maybe you should have chosen the shape of the other friend instead. What a sad waste of the gift I granted you."

"I will make it up to you, I swear." The figure changes, now a bulky warrior between Tav and the door.

"I will deal with you later when we have time to – discuss your failure or our contract. First," his eyes alight on Tav, we hunt."

The piercing gaze accompanied by those words finally, shocks Tav into motion. Disregarding their weapon, they make for the door. They will have to go through the shapeshifter but that is alright by them. Tav pulls the backup knife and keeps their eyes on the shifter.

When he realises they won't sop, he changes back into Wyll, hoping for a moment of hesitation. Tav has none. They shove their spiked pauldron into his body, slashing for his stomach at the same moment. The figure flickers through several forms and Tav doesn't stick around to see on what it settles.

They rip the door open and shut out the deep laughter that follows them like a soft promise of pain. It's not far, they can make it to Raphael.

Two guards at standing at the top of the stairs to the throne room. This is new. Probably decorum for the visit. Both smile with a show of greedy teeth when they see the human.

"Es geht los," the right one chuckles. He steps into the way, crossing his halberd with that of his companion. "Viel Glück, kleine Maus."

Both laugh as Tav eyes the closed passage. Behind them steps approach without haste. Mephistopheles has long legs and doesn’t need to hurry. Their options are extremely limited. Tav wants to howl in frustration, but no sound leaves their lips.

Tav turns on their heel and run off in the other direction, the image of Mephistopheles laughing face at the back of their mind. They can't fight him alone. Maybe they can't fight him at all. But they are not alone, they have help.

It's only a short sprint to the boudoir. Tav skits around the corner and through the magical curtain. There they stumble when an invisible hand grabs their throat. It rips at their insides, clawing up their throat in blood-hot barbs.

Despite their best efforts, Tav crumbles, bracing on their hands as they heave and retch. Their insides twist, stomach pressing upwards but nothing comes out. Tav crawls on all fours, determined to put distance, any distance between them and Mephistopheles.

The curtain may not keep him out. What if he has his own invitation to the boudoir? The thought makes Tav sick, but you never know wish devils. A final pain shoots through them, a feeling as if their throat cleaves open, windpipe torn and shattered. Tav tastes blood but it drips to the tiles from their mouth accompanied by tears and a soft sob.

Their voice! Tav doesn’t stop to think about it. With their voice back, they can warn Haarlep properly. Tav resumes running, swallowing blood that comes from a deep bite in their cheek and wipe the tears of pain away. Only a few more steps.

The boudoir is quite and empty with all evils assembled in the throne room. And Haarlep lounges on the huge bed without a care in the world. Their head tilts slightly when the dishevelled human barrels towards them with bloody armour and face.

"A lost little mouse is running through the house," Haarlep chuckles as they sit up. "What brings you here, my sweet. I thought you and Raphael had an understanding?"

"Mephistopheles." The word is breezy, more air than sound and rakes through Tav's throat like hot coals. But it is audible and that is all that matters.

"Yes, he is here to bargain with his unruly son. How do you think that will turn our?" The incubus raises a brow.

"He's not in the throne room bargaining!" Tav gasps. "He's here, in the library, tried to get to me with a shapeshifter. I ran. But-"

"Slow down." Haarlep rises and slips off the bed. "How can he be here when he is also down in the throne room?"

"I don't know," Tav wails. "But he is after me. And the shapeshifter cast a spell on me so I couldn't speak."

"How very clever of you to come here," the incubus hums. "The magical shield won't let magic pass that isn't from the House of Hope. "Did Mephistopheles follow you?"

"I don't know if he can get through the shield to the boudoir."

"He doesn’t have to," comes a familiar voice from the balcony. The rich timbre goes right into Tav’s bones.

The curtain moves and a red wing emerges, followed by Mephistopheles and his two warriors. "I think you may have forgotten about the path over the balconies." He smiles in triumph. "Haarlep?"

Tav looks to the incubus at their side. Black and red eyes bore into theirs.

"Do you trust me?" Haarlep asks.

Tav nods. "Always," they murmur and hope Mephistopheles doesn't hear it.

Haarlep smiles and puts an arm around their shoulder as he produces a scroll and tosses it to the arch devil. "A stupid decision, really."

Tav recognises the spell for Dominate Person a moment before its power paralyses them.

"Too easy," Mephistopheles says as he steps into the room. Hard eyes scrutinise his inhibited prize. "Let's see how my unruly son bargains in the face of this."

He nods to the incubus and Haarlep drags Tav along, out of the boudoir behind the arch devil while more warriors join until they form an unbroken escort around the small group.

The devils part before them as they walk down the stairs slowly. Mephistopheles is milking his entrance for all it is worth. For a moment Tav can see Raphael on the other side of the room, looking small on the huge throne because of the distance. Before him a devil and his honour guard stand and though their words don't carry this far, the commotion speaks loudly.

Raphael stand up abruptly and the sea of devils part to let Mephistopheles through. Tav walks with Haarlep's hand on their shoulder to steer them. Their mind is running, but nothing they want to do, they can. Their body obeys Mephistopheles now; no amount of hating that or him will change that.

Tav is paraded through the assembly, the unbelieving and angry gaze of Raphael heavy on them. They wish nothing more than to assure him it will be alright. But what right do they have? And what proof? Haarlep's hand on their shoulder is efficient as a leash. It doesn't help they can hear the incubus quietly chuckle to themself.

"There he is, my unruly son." Mephistopheles' voice booms through the room. "Styling himself the ruler of hells and yet unable to protect what is his in his own house."

The chocolatey laughter drenches the room and Tav knows many of the devils are swayed already. A master has returned with the trump card of his adversary on his sleeve. Their gaze flicks to Haarlep, but they are absorbed in their task and their own head. Mephistopheles ignores his human prisoner completely – and justifiedly. Tav is bound firmly under his spell.

"You need to train your pets better. This one ran straight to their butcher for help."

Haarlep pushes Tav forwards until they stand before Raphael who glares daggers across the space between him and his father.

"Oh, don't worry about them," his father goads. "They are perfectly fine as long as you behave. And Haarlep, well, you know how they are."

Raphael does – Haarlep is always on the winning side. If they side with Mephistopheles now – he pushes the thought away. The last thing he will do is take this insult - this public humiliation - and swallow it. His eyes graze over Tav, obviously under a spell, unable to move. But their eyes, their eyes plead. Scared but determined.

"So you come to negotiate and break every law of hospitality instead." Raphael's voice is calm and betrays nothing. He cannot lose his face now. He will talk until the solution to this problem reveals itself to him. And while devils are violent and evil, they also value decorum and proper etiquette. "I will not forget it."

"I will make sure there are more things you won't forget about today," Mephistopheles replies. "You ignoble defeat in front of your peers for one. Bested in your own house. Again. But I am yet willing to bargain. Let's see how much this," his hand languidly indicates Tav, "is worth to you."

"Not as much as you will ask for them." Raphael's voice is cold but if Tav can hear the tremor in it, so can everybody else. Maybe he can pass it of as anger. Tav can only look at Raphael, rage rising from his body that shifts as if about to ascend into his fiend from out of sheer rage.

"That remains to be seen." The arch devil laughs to himself, a sound like velvet and lightning. "I let this one go, and you agree to leave Cania and me out of your conquest." Mephistopheles smiles thinly. "Though, you are said to think very highly of this mortal. So abandon your conquest. Return the hells to their natural order."

Silence falls in the throne room. The only noise is an occasional rustle of wings.

"You are delusional if you believe I will give up my life's gaol, within reach, for a mere mortal," Raphael scoffs convincingly.

"We will see the truth of that soon enough." Mephistopheles eyes Tav and runs a claw along their jaw, leaving a thin red line. "Or do you have a counteroffer?"

"You let Tav go unharmed now, and I let you live," Raphael growls.

"Oh, you never knew when to back down," his father laughs. "But I can repeat my only offer, if you have trouble hearing."

Raphael sets his jaw, lips but a thin gash across his face.

"Oh, he is not very accommodating. How about we show the whole place everything he treasure so much?" Haarlep leers. They lean over Tav’s shoulder murmuring ‘be ready to run’ into their ear before running their tongue seductively over the side of Tav’s face.

With a snap of his fingers, Mephistopheles removes Tav's armour. They stand naked in the middle of the room and shame starts its hot rush up to their face. At the same time, the familiar protection of Sanctuary settles around them. If only they could look back at Haarlep, but the incubus has their cheeks pressed together, hands wandering down Tav’s sides and leaving pinpricks of red.

Raphael doesn't react. Though Tav can see the tiny flick of his eyes, disbelief and distrust, aimed at Haarlep.

"What do you say, my insolent offspring?" The words echo.

Raphael doesn't reply. His eyes narrow and seek out his most trusted lieutenants. Then he throws himself at his father, changing into an ascended fiend on the way. Long black claws rip into the arch devil's expensive clothes and smug expression.

At once the warriors flanking their master attack Raphael, but only one gets to him as the others are cornered by the cambion's minions.

Mephistopheles takes a step back, concentration broken, and casts a devastating spell at Tav. It bounces away harmlessly. He casts again but this spell, too, fizzles out harmlessly. Tav turns, their eyes deep with rage. But they cannot retaliate without breaking their own security. So instead they approach him slowly. Area effects can harm them and Tav will make sure the arch devil feels the pain as well if he casts any.

"None of that now." Haarlep takes Tav's arm and gently drags them out of the melee zone. One of Mephistopheles' warriors lies dead already, and Raphael approaches his father seething white. The black bones encasing his fire glow red in places.

Tav lets the incubus move them unable to drag their eyes of Raphael. The throne room is carnage, devils that took sides prematurely getting decimated by those loyal to Raphael, and the tall figure is its centre piece.

Mephistopheles spares them one last glance before he vanishes. Raphael drops to the ground where his father was a moment ago, claws ripping over the tiled floor. The skulled head turns to his father’s last warrior who, pinned and wounded smirks and cuts his own throat with a slash of his armoured tail.

Raphael roars and every body makes room for the tail and hands that tear into the dead bodies. The four devils are ripped to shreds and the cambion shows no sighs of slowing down, moving on to the traitors in his own ranks.

Tav frees themself from Haarlep's grip and approaches their devil carefully. "Raphael." The word is as soft as the touch of Tav's hand on the devil's arm.

His head snaps around, jaws open, eyes burning, mandibles shaking slightly from rage. But he doesn't lash out and when Tav raises a hand to his blood-covered face, Raphael lowers it enough for them to reach. Cool fingers move gently over the flithy bone and mandibles. "Ich bin hier. It's alright."

The fiend calms down enough to growl.

"I know." Tav breathes a kiss over the central skull.

Raphael rises to his full height, wings spanning the width of the throne room. He scrutinises each fiend for a moment, barking out orders: tighten security, remove the back door to the boudoir, send spies to Cania, clean up the mess, check on the loyalties of all under his command.

He lets his gaze linger a little longer on Haarlep. The incubus smirks with overt glee at the carnage. "We will talk later," Raphael growls and sends the incubus away with a curt gesture. Haarlep winks at Tav before they leave.

Tav is swept up by their devil and carried away. They cling to the bony figure, face pressed into the burning chest. They only have to hold it together for a few more moments.

Then the door closes behind them and Tav lets go. They shake in Raphael's hold, hyperventilating as the situation crashes over them. There is no adrenaline left to keep them going. But they don't have to.

Raphael puts the down on the edge of the bed but Tav clings to him. "Don't leave me." It's a weak plea and so very selfish considering the situation. But Raphael complies. Long claws close around their shaking body and Tav sobs into his embrace.

Once, they would have tried to calm down, to bottle it up enough for later release, alone, safe from prying eyes. But not any longer. They are safe with their devil. And Raphael takes the time necessary until Tav drained the swamp of their flurrying emotions.

Finally, they lean back and smile. “Thank you." Tav stands on the mattress and steadies themself on the fiend until the can bury their face against his neck. "Thank you," they repeat and press a soft kiss to his throat.

"You will tell me how this happened." The devil's voice rolls like an avalanche. But he holds Tav tight, closes his wing around them.

"Yes." For a moment longer, Tav snuggles up against the hellish figure. Then they put the side of their head against his bony side and recount the whole misadventure. Sometimes they shudder at the memory. But they are safe.

"Did they touch you?" Tav asks when they finish, remembering the fight. "Are you hurt?"

"I am fine." Raphael's tone betrays his lie.

"Let me see." Tav pushes back a little but the ascended form is impenetrable to their gaze. It looks fine. "Raphael," Tav's voice is tender as they turn the devil's head to face them. "Let me see."

Raphael switches into his devil from not looking away and Tav scans his body again. Mostly it is covered in shallow cuts, likely from fingernails. But one deep gash runs over his ribs and the skin of his right wing is torn between two spokes.

"I will take care of it." Tav places their devil on the bed. Instinctively, they grab for their shirt to rip off strips to staunch the bleeding momentarily. But Tav's hands find nothing. Tav cups Raphael's face with on hand and kisses him softly. "I'll be right back."

They yield to his hand that pulls them down again for a longer kiss, tasting the remains of adrenaline and fire. Tav leaves with a smile to rummage through their shelves until they find old shirts that are soft from much washing and a bottle of healing water, stashed with many, almost identical bottles.

Tav returns to Raphael's side and pours some of the water over their shirt and presses it against the wound. The devil sighs, as the restorative water knits his flesh back together. After a moment, Tav pulls the fabric away, soaks it again and repeats the process until the wound is healed. They leave a trail of kisses where no scar shows.

When Raphael runs his hand through their hair, Tav leans into the touch. They allow the caress for a while before they kiss the devil's palm and move to his torn wing. It doesn't take long to heal either. Tav throws the bloody shirt into a corner and kneels beside Raphael, one hand on his stomach.

"Do you need rest now?" they ask. The healing process of devils is not familiar.

"Not as much as you.” He slowly pulls Tav down at his side. The human complies, snuggling up against the hot skin and wrapping an arm across his chest. Their breath is cool on his skin as Raphael wraps the healed wing around their small form. "You will rest."

[jaeminscoffee]

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right? 

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place. 

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad) 

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense. 

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend. 

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people. 

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny. 

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you. 

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks. 

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look. 

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it" 

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n." 

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing. 

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine." 

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda. 

Ironic, huh? 

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night. 

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location. 

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze. 

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder. 

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming. 

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning. 

"Answer me." 

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement. 

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?" 

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place. 

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot. 

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study. 

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling. 

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command. 

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck. 

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features. 

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking. 

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode 

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?" 

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions. 

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you. 

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear. 

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?" 

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in. 

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck." 

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?" 

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed. 

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?" 

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum. 

"Say it, Y/n." 

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad. 

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds. 

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. 

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers. 

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?" 

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach. 

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe. 

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully. 

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.." 

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration, 

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night. 

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity. 

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly. 

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!" 

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock" 

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad. 

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel" 

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.  

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace, 

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm. 

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast. 

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you. 

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper. 

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name. 

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure. 

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls, 

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for. 

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed. 

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him. 

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side, 

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad, 

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???" 

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

[berristreasuredlibrary]

Jealous Man

TW: reader is pregnant in the beginning, smut, impregnation, somnophilia, breeding kink (?), language (on my part), jealousy (?), believe that's it

A/N: You may insert any character, reader is AFAB. I kinda like this one, idk why but I'm writing a lot of pregnancy stuff??? Oh well, read with caution and enjoy! :p

He's not a jealous man.

He prides himself on that fact, in the years he's been with you he's never felt the need for reassurance. He's never felt like he's had to compete with any man for your attention. It's not cockiness, he just knows and trusts that you love him the same way he loves you.

And this goes both ways, he's made sure to try his best so you don't feel as though you need to compete with other women. He's polite, kind even, but he has boundaries he enforces each and every time he converses with women.

He makes it clear that he is happily taken, messing with his wedding ring, keeping his phone upright, a picture of you lighting up the screen whenever he gets a notification.

Even going as far as to spray your perfume into the air and walk through the mist, as he's seen you do many times before. One spray is enough, as it sticks to his clothes and mixes with his cologne, a scent you've come to love.

He wears your hair-ties on his wrist, even the brightly colored ones, sometimes he even ties his own hair up with them, or attempts to. Most times he only gets parts of his hair to stay up, his bangs falling back into his face within a few minutes, and he spends the day huffing them away from his eyes.

Other times he manages to get all of his hair into a small ponytail and only a few strands fall out to frame his handsome face. The face you spend nights applying different products of skincare, gushing about what does what and how it'll help his skin.

He's not a jealous man.

He's really not, but something about other men shamelessly staring at you when you're both out for the day just bothers him to no extent. When those men so casually ignore his presence and saunter their way up to you, far too close mind you, just to try and get you for themselves.

Ignoring the big bright diamond on your finger, ignoring the roll of your eyes when they boast so ungraciously about themselves. Ignoring the way you wave them off, forced smiles and politeness, "no thank you"s and "my husband does that just fine, perhaps even better" falling from your lips.

Ignoring the bump in your belly.

The bump that he also prides himself on, the bump that didn't take much convincing of. You both had wanted a baby, a little bundle of joy to care and love. Within the second year of your relationship you both had known you were meant for each other, there was no doubt about it.

Even when other people doubted the strength of your relationship, saying it wouldn't survive past high school, you both had beaten the odds. Through everything you both stuck together, the good and the bad, the terrible fights where neither of you were willing to back down for days until someone brought peace offerings.

The best times were spent in the comfort of your shared home years later, where you both could unwind and be yourselves, not having to worry about anyone else but each other. Creating domesticity in the house of your dreams, memories that never faded and love that continued to grow.

Within the year you both were engaged, you had brought ideas to the table. What you wanted to do before and during the big wedding, who you wanted and didn't want to attend. Work, money, time, and contributions, everything was planned out before the big day.

You both knew what you wanted in life, you both strived for perfection and when either of you fell short of your high expectations the other was there to lift the spirits again. Your aspirations to grow and learn with each other were fulfilled within a year of your marraige.

In the second year you had surprised your husband with a box, a small simple one that held something so big and dear to the both of you. Within that box was a pregnancy test, a positive one at that, and he swore that was one of the best days of his life.

He had cared for you throughout the pregnancy, every mood swing, craving, restless night, shopping trip. He was the perfect man and you knew he'd be just as perfect as a father. He knew he'd do anything for his child, he'd be the best he could ever be, give your child exactly what they needed. He'd strive for perfection.

He wasn't a jealous man, he knew he was yours and you were his.

He wasn't a jealous man, but as soon as your doctor gave you the green light for sexual activities after the birth of your first baby something snaps. It's as if a switch flipped, he's mostly quiet during the car ride home, letting you do most of the talking and only nodding along or smiling at you.

Once you get home, he's tugging you to the bedroom like a child on Christmas. You both have the house to yourselves, your baby spending the day with grandparents, for the first time in a while. As he tugs you towards the room, you can't help but laugh as his childish manners, quickly you're cut off when you're pushed down onto the bed with him hovering over you.

He's not a jealous man, but the grip he has on your hips is possessive, angry almost. His rough thrusts have your eyes rolling back, your hands gripping the sheets of your bed, and loud moans bouncing off the walls.

His cock stretching your cunt so deliciously it makes you delirious, whines, moans, and incoherent babbles of his name fall from your puffy bruised lips. Your pussy has his dick in a death grip, tightening around him with each thrust, trying to suck him back and keep him inside forever.

He honestly had forgotten how fucking heavenly you felt, he's on cloud nine. The lewd expression on your face is almost enough to make him cum, the feeling of your pussy pulling him back in, and the sounds of skin against skin gets him even closer.

But what really gets him are two things, one being the chants of his name, a melody that only you sing so beautifully for him. Over and over you moan and whimper his name like a goddamn prayer, like he's a god.

The second is the possibility of pregnancy again. Just knowing that he can fuck you stupid, absolutely stupid, and in return you give him another baby. He can make a mess of you, have your legs trembling in a matter of hours, and you delight him with another bundle of joy.

And when the time comes, everyone will see you holding your first child and rubbing your growing stomach. They'll know, no man will ever think to make advances again, not when they see just how happy you are with your husband and children.

Not when they see that he has you stuffed full as soon as he's given the chance.

That thought alone spurs him on, it fuels the fire inside him, makes his dick twitch inside you as he makes you cum for the nth time that night. He pushes your legs up so your thighs are pressed against your tits, looking down he can see ring of your cum forming around the base of his cock.

Watching as his dick disappears into your pussy, he groans as he imagines just how beautiful you looked pregnant and how radiant you'll look again. He presses his body against yours, pinning you down against the mattress, and he ruts into you.

He grips the sheets on either side of your head, sweat drips down his temples, groans fill your ear as he buries his face into your neck. His pelvis grinds onto your overstimulated clit, his dick brushing against the sweet spot that has you creaming around him yet again.

Strings of curses fall from his lips as he spills his load inside you, filling you to the brim, shallowly thrusting into you to make sure nothing slips out. He lets your legs go, rubbing your thighs and pressing kissing along the side of your neck, cooing soft praises to you and holding you tightly against him.

And later into the night, when he feels as though your pussy looks quite empty, he raises your leg ever so gently. He wraps his arm around your midsection and toys with your clit, smiling to himself when he sees your breathing sped up.

Grinning like a child in a candy store when he feels your arousal coating his fingers, kissing along your shoulder as he slowly slips his painfully hard cock into your awaiting cunt, which only seems to have gotten tighter despite the previous hours.

Hissing quietly, he keeps toying with your clit as he slowly starts thrusting into you, your small moans coaxing him and helping him set a pace. He knows you're tired, so tired and sore, but he remains gentle, even when you stir from your slumber, whining and mumbling sleepily.

He only shushes you gently, promising that he'll do all the work, telling you to just lay there and he'll fuck you back to sleep. Of course the last thing you do is fall back asleep, you rock your hips in time with his thrusts, helping you both reach your highs.

Ecstasy courses through your veins, even in your sleepy state you're aware of him. Your mind is filled with nothing but him, him, him. You move your own hand down and hold your leg up for him, giving him a chance to angle his hips ever so slightly.

He brings you to your climax after a few more thrusts, pressing kisses to your still swollen lips, mumbling words of affirmation to you, promising to give you whatever you want. whenever you want it. His groans fill your ears once more as his hips stutter and lose their rhythm when he spills into you again, your walls getting coating white.

And imagine his delight when you come to him weeks later with another small box, a positive pregnancy test inside. A few doctor visits later, ultrasound pictures show two small sets of hands and feet. Two new siblings for your firstborn, two new additions to your family.

He's not a jealous man, but he fucks you like one.

[bixgirl1]

I think I saw you say somewhere that have a squick of self harming in fan fictions and that's what you don't like right? Do you have other ones and what do you like ?

Hi nonnie!  Yep, a squick is something that, when reading, a person tends to avoid. It can be an outright trigger or simply something that makes the reader crinkle their nose and shake their head before closing out. It’s a fairly universal term in fandom that helps to explain why you won’t/can’t/don’t like reading something, and the beauty of it is that, once the word is used, no further explanation is (or should be) required — because sometimes there is no further explanation, you know? Sometimes you just… don’t like something. 

As for my personal squicks/likes/and dislikes, that requires a longer answer, so I’m going to put it under a cut.

The short answer is yes and no. Self-harm can be a squick of mine — but it very much depends on how it’s handled, and its context. It’s something I’ll usually avoid reading if I see it in the tags and am not familiar enough with the author to feel safe reading it, which is something I take into account. If I see a story posted by an author that I’ve liked but have never read anything from them approaching that tag, I’ll probably wait to see if they’ll post a fic with similar but more gentle tags/content to see if their style/thought processes on the subject line up with my own. Other writers, whose work I’ve consumed to the point where I feel comfortable enough with their headspace, I’ll dive right in.

That being said, honestly, these days I have very few hardline squicks —  scat-play and/or vomit-play are two, and suicide and self-harm edge very close as well (with the caveat from above). When I was less familiar with fandom, more untried, I had — or thought I had — a lot. lol. That can happen, I think; it can be really terrifying to edge out of your comfort zone. But then you read absolutely every long, plotty drarry a writer offers, every short, hot bit of smut, and there are these other ones lingering with tags like incest or dub/non-con or major character death or infidelity, and think “hmmm.” All of those are still listed in my ‘know the author first’ file, but I’ve learned I can love some stories with those tags. But that’s me. Not everyone will want to venture out of their comfort zones, and that’s fine. Great, even! Fanfic allows us a lot of wonderful things, and one of those can be escapism. So never let anyone make you feel bad about sticking to the things you like; this is all just relevant to my personal fic tastes.

And regarding those, in answer to your other question — I know I’ve got a list somewhere, lj or dw maybe, with a pretty full list of my likes and dislikes and squicks, but I haven’t updated it in a long time, so:

(I’m applying these to Harry/Draco, but I’ll read a bunch of other pairings too. Harry/Teddy, Draco/Albus, some Jeddy and Scorbus, Harry/Sirius, a bit of Wolfstar, James Sirius/Albus Severus, Romione, and Pansmione are probably my faves)

Squicks and/or squick-ish content (ie, stuff my friends would never put in a gift fic for me. lol) I’ll only read if I know the writer very well and trust them (asterisks next to the ones I’m more rigid about):

-Suicide**

-Self-harm (especially cutting)**

-Vomit/scat play***

-Major character death

-Unhappily ambiguous endings

-Character bashing*** (to be fair, if a writer does this, I don’t usually like a lot of their stuff)

-Endings (happy or unhappy) where my preferred couple doesn’t end up together**

That’s it. And I make exceptions.

General fic dislikes that I’ll “psh” if I’ve read a couple of the writers things and like them, but that still have the ability to turn me off of a story real quick:

-Non-con

-Massive deviations from canon characterization. (Meaning: Draco is incredibly flamboyant and there’s no explanation or hints as to why/how he’d become so; Harry hates Ron; Ron is stupid; Hermione is a perky prop, etc. I’m perfectly fine reading most things if I understand why they’re that way.)

-Infidelity

-Also, when mental health issues are addressed (I tend to write about them a lot), I dislike grandstanding about them as much as I dislike them being glossed over, if that makes any sense. If I want to read detailed explanations about mental illness, I’ve got about two dozen textbooks I can refer to; alternately, if trauma is brought up in the fic, there needs to be (for me), some exploration of it.

-Permanent disability fics

-Fisting

-Muggle AU’s

-Mpreg — very rarely (usually just because I’m not often in the mood for it)

-Schmoopy fluff. (I don’t mind the sweet, but I don’t want to get cavities)

-Bloodplay

Now, for the fun ones!

Fic likes:

-Tropes. I’m a trope whore, I admit it. I love so many of them they should probably get a subcatagory of my favorites. lol.

-Forced Proximity

-Bed-Sharing

-Eighth Year

-Auror Partners

-Powerful!Harry

-Controlled!Draco (magically, for both; I like ‘em skilled as hell)

-Wandlore

-Master of Death lore

-Aristocratic Draco (or bad boy Draco, or fucked up Draco…I like Draco a lot, okay?)

-Flirting

-UST

-Pining

-Banter and snark

-Friends to lovers

-Lovers to friends to more

-Dub-con where they both enjoy it

-Sex Pollen

-Antagonism

-Veela/Creature Fic

-Smart Harry (let’s give the boy some credit, can we???)

-Harry, Ron, and Hermione staying close

-Rescuing/being protective (I don’t care who rescues and who does the rescuing, though I tend to think of Harry as the rescuer more often than not. But I like when there’s an exchange.)

-Life debts

-Legilimency

-Accidental (or, hell, intentional) bonding

-Humor

-Angst with a happy ending

-Harry’s and Draco’s hair/eyes being described as they are in the books

-The first time they call each other by their first names being significant

-Fics that focus as much (or more) on characterization and relationship development as they do on outside plot

And a bunch more of these too.

Sex and sexual kinks:

-Draco. God yes. Put him in robes or a sharp suit or torn jeans and mmmmmmsfdhdfhlgjhuihghlhd. I like Draco being noticed. (*whispers* Objectified, even, especially if Harry doesn’t realize he’s doing it.)

-Vice versa Harry.

-Rimming

-Spanking

-Rentboys

-Sexual power plays

-One of them being experienced, the other not so experienced.

-Both of them being hella experienced

-Topping from the bottom (and also the top).

-Bottoming from the top (and also the bottom lol)

-Dirty talk

-Trust games (blindfolds, tying someone up)

-Fingering

-Post-sex fingering

-Flaccid cocks getting played with; proprietary touches.

-First times

-Dom/sub dynamics (with clear boundaries and safewords)

-Gentle sex

-Extended foreplay

-Semi-public sex

-Magical sex objects

-Cleaning spells (thank fuck for the magical world, amiright?)

-Messy blowjobs

-Kissing. Lots of kissing.

-Angry sex that turns into more

-Frantic sex

-Partially-clothed sex

-Frotting/grinding

-Teasing

-I might have a bit of a foot kink? lol

-Confidence

-Timidity/nerves

-Coming untouched

-Handjobs

-Shower/bath

Aaannnd most other sexual kinks you don’t see listed under my squicks or dislikes.

So there you go. A non-comprehensive guide to what I like and look for in a fic. Like I said, I’m not too picky about my dislikes these days (if I was, I wouldn’t be reading puppy play or consensual non-con or double penetration, and there are fics with those contents that have blown me the fuck away), but it’s really a personal thing. Kink tomato, and Fic Tomato (which idk if the latter is a thing, but I hope everyone gets what I mean. lol).

Thanks so much for the ask, nonnie!  It was a bit of a treat to stop and really consider how my fic likes and dislikes have changed over the last couple of years. Highly recommend you making your own list — and never letting anyone make you feel bad about it! ;D

[takaraphoenix]

Hi! I don't to sound annoying, but I think my last ask may have fallen into the void so here goes: do you have any tips for starting an AO3 account? Sorry if you got the last one and just didn't feel like answering

Oh no, sweetie. Not annoying at all!

And while I do usually not instantly get around to answering and the asks might lay around for a day or two... yeah, I don’t have any other ask from you, so, good you send it again ;)

Tips? Mh.

1. The Basics!

Let’s start with the most basic thing. Your name.

Is your name a “brand”? That is to say; do you already have a recognizable name? Do people know you from other sites? Tumblr, DeviantArt, Fanfiction.Net, Wattpad, other sites I don’t know?

Then maybe pick the same name, if available. People who already like you might recognize it! They will also have an easier time finding you.

Not to mention, the human brain can not remember that many names and if you make them remember that oh, your name on this site is XYZ and your name on another site is ABC but on the next site they can find you as A2C... that might be asking a bit too much of them.

So make it easy for people who like you to find you! ;)

But don’t make it too easy for people to find you.

That is to say; don’t put personal information on your profile. Don’t link to your facebook, best not put your real name on there. The internet is not exactly a safe place, there are bad people, there are creepy people and there are also dangerous people. So always stay safe.

Now that you got your name and a profile that, instead of leading to personal information best leads to your other accounts, such as tumblr, you’re all set to post your first fic!

2. Write a decent summary.

If you move to AO3 from a site like FFNet, you are used to a pathetically short character limit that doesn’t allow much freedom.

Your summary is your window into the fic. It’s supposed to be the hook. Nowadays, tags take over parts of that job too but in the end, the summary is the final sell.

It’s tricky to find a good balance between explaining your story in an intriguing way and not spilling all the beans. Because you don’t want to spoil the ending, you want them interested in reading more and not left with the feeling that they already know everything that’s going to happen.

The same as with the tags apply; include what you think is truly important. What do people need to know about this story before going into it? Think of it as a trailer to a movie. What’s the best pitch?

3. Tagging makes fandom life easier.

Tagging is the one important feature about AO3 that makes it so beautiful and special. And tagging seems to be the hardest task for authors.

There are those who undertag and those who overtag.

You don’t have to literally tag everything - like “kissing” and “hand holding” and the sexual orientation of every single character that will as much as be mentioned in the fic. If readers face a literal wall of tags, chances are they just won’t read it and skip the entire thing.

Undertagging isn’t good either though. If things are too vague, many might also feel like it’s not worth wasting time on checking it out because the risk of running into something they might dislike is too high.

My personal approach to it is to tag everything I see as relevant. Things that, if I see them tagged in a story, instantly make me click it. Like, if I write a story that is centered particularly around the angst and feels of a certain character; tag it. There might be people desperately looking for a fic that centers on that character’s emotional turmoil.

And be on the safe side with smut too. Tag what you’re doing; there might be certain things that are uncomfortable for readers and that they are trying to avoid. That can be as simple as the what, or even as the who does what. For example, if I see a tag for explicit content but the author did not bother tagging who tops and bottoms, I generally don’t even bother clicking on the fic anymore, because despite the fact how most authors claim that topping and bottoming has “nothing to do with the character”, 90% of fanfiction authors still have it hard-wired in their brains that fics are more bottom-centric, that the bottom is portrayed as the shyer one who needs to be fussed over and comforted while the top is the brash, brave one. So to avoid running into literal fuckery where the roles are reverse to how I view the characters, I just don’t even try anymore.

Which means that tagging top and bottom can a) cause people who are looking for specific fics with a specific character as either of those to find your fic and be happy about it and also that b) someone who doesn’t enjoy the order you enjoy not to run into something they dislike.

Which actually summarizes the way I apply tags anyway. Don’t tag everything, but tag everything you think someone might be looking for in a fic, or might be trying to avoid. It’s both a lure and a warning in once.

Also, trigger warnings. You plan on writing heavier subjects? Murder, self-harm, torture, abuse, rape? Definitely put it in the tags. There are people who might just be really squeamish about it and don’t like it, which should already be reason enough to warn, but there are also people who have a serious history with such issues and might be triggered by them. So if you tag such things, they might already be filtered out by having been blacklisted by the users and you might have just made some people’s lives a little easier.

Tag your pairings. Maybe best in order of importance; many might just look at the first listed pairing, used to authors sorting them by importance and thus dismissing the fourth, fifth or sixth ship you tag as just random side-pairing. So if you have a main-pairing, always tag it first.

Also include character tags. I was recently told that there are apparently actually people who filter by character tags. News to me, though I do check the character tags too to see if my faves are in it.

4. Use the features AO3 offers!

This starts with something as simple as the fact that AO3 sends you mails about Kudos and comments. It’s a great way to stay up to date with how much love your fics gain.

Now that we’re at it; comments. Reply to them, if you have the time. Those are people who are interested in your work, in something you evidently love enough to put it out there. Engaging with them is a brilliant feeling. Getting feedback on your things and getting to know what they expect of your work or want from it. Occasionally, it can even be very inspiring and give you an idea to include to your story that you hadn’t even thought about!

Another thing about comments however is that you can moderate them. It’s a feature I personally don’t use because I’m a veteran at this point and there’s nothing I haven’t seen in the comment section to I’m not that easily fazed.

But if you are still new to not just AO3 but fanfiction in general and if you might write a ship the so-called antis deem “problematic” - which, at this point in time, can literally be any ship aside from canon no, wait, canon too - you might do yourself a favor there. Because fandom life can be beautiful but it can also be hell. There might be shitheads who come to your fic and say nasty, bad things about your pairing choice, your fanfiction, your writing, maybe even you yourself as a person because they’re trying to hurt you.

Don’t let it get to you.

But if you are more sensible about such things, then maybe moderating reviews can be a useful feature for you because it allows you to delete spam and flames without them ever showing up in the fic. You can always flag reviews as spam or delete them, even if you don’t use the feature, but you’ll have an ugly “scar” on your comment section that says [this review has been deleted].

One of the most handy features AO3 has - after the tagging - is in my eyes the series-feature. It allows you to bundle multiple fics together under one umbrella. Personally, I really hate when people post oneshot collections on AO3 as one fic and there’s tags for like 20 fandoms, 30 pairings and 60 kinks in that one fic and you as the reader have no way of telling which of the additional kinks would now relate to which pairing. The far easier and cleaner solution would be to post oneshots seperately, so people can easier tell what they individually are, and mark them as part of a series for that collection. It’s, of course, a matter for authors, but I’m not the only one who simply scrolls past such oneshot collections because I don’t have the patience to go through it just to notice all my kinks are tags that would belong to a shot I’m not interested in (not to mention the ones that already tagged the collection as including a pairing but 20 shots in that pairing has still not been written, or the ones that don’t include in the chapter title what pairing and fandom the individual shot is... and you’d literally have to seep through 30 chapters to find that one pairing in the collection that you’re interested in. Yeah no, I got better things to do with my time and close the whole thing).

So yeah, the series function makes it far easier to gather things you want to put under an umbrella but still make easy to navigate for your readers, which, always nice.

Another handy feature about AO3 is that you can put links into the fic. So if a character starts singing a song in the middle of the fic for romantic mood... Not everyone recognizes a song by its lyrics and it just doesn’t set the mood as well; how about just putting a link to a YouTube video over the first line that the character sings? Your readers can open it in another tab and let it set the mood for your fic.

5. Don’t let haters get to you!

I know I mentioned it above already, that you shouldn’t let shitheads get to you, but it’s important enough to earn its own separate point on the list.

Fandoms are filled with hatred and mean, nasty, selfish people who will do and say everything to keep their fandoms “pure” and thus attack people who ship or like things they themselves don’t like.

That can, at times, be really drowning and hard, so you need to focus on the good parts. If you’re a first-time writer, you might not yet have the connections, or you already do from tumblr and other sites, I don’t know, but let’s say you don’t. Then make them. A point of that is the above mentioned “interact with your readers” advise I gave you; the people happy about what you write are the good people and the kind of people in fandom that you want to associate with - so just do it. Do it, make friends, find people who you can gush to about this thing you both love.

If you already got those contacts from other sites? That’s great! But hey, never too late to make more friends and meet more fellow fans.

But those people are incredibly important if you want to participate in any fandom, because they are what reminds you that the fandom can be safe, sane and nice. That it can be a beautiful place and that it’s worth loving.

Because otherwise the hate from the other part of the fandom might get to you and it might even make you dislike the show/movie/book itself simply by association. I’m sorry that I’m sounding like such a downer here toward the end, but I’ve already seen it and gone through it myself, that if you fall into the deep end of negative fandoms, they can ruin everything for you. So it’s a piece of advise that is very dear and important for me to give - find the safe, sane and nice part of the fandom, claim it for yourself and enjoy it and don’t let anyone tell you that you don’t have the right to enjoy and love it.

And that’s it. That’s all I can think of, at least. I hope there was at least some useful stuff in it, but since I don’t know how experienced you are with fanfiction writing and posting, I figured I’d better be more thorough and more general about it. Better give too much advise than too little, I guess.

Now, one last thing: Enjoy writing and never forget to enjoy writing; never let it become a “task”, always love it, okay? ;)