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readychilledwine · 1 year ago
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His, Yours, Mine
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Summary - Finding out you were pregnant should have been the best news. It's too bad you don't know which of your three mates is possibly the father, though.
Prompt - Day 3 - Secrets
Warnings - slightly hidden pregnancy trope, pregnancy, being put in a protective bubble, alcohol mentioned, slightly angsty but I know some of you are hurting from all the angst going around so it turns to Fluff quickly.
A/N - Happy @polyacotarweek day 3! I almost turned this into a Lucien x Reader x Tamlin fic before I decided to keep it with the batboys to include Starfall. There is still an urge to make a Spring Court Trouple version of this, though, so let me know. Also, I included how I imagined Rhysand discovering Feyre's pregnancy went. As much as I hate the storyline, I can see him being so emotional over a baby
💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕
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Madja held your hand in hers as you cried. You cried from joy, from frustration, from shock, from sadness. This should have been the happiest news of your long life, but you found yourself more confused than anything.
“It is a blessing from the Mother, y/n.” She ran a hand along your cheek, “They will be overjoyed.”
The laugh you let out was bitter. “I can't even tell them who the father is.”
“Does it matter in this type of relationship? All of them will be happy. They all want a family with you, together."
To you, it mattered. It mattered so deeply that two weeks into knowing, you still had your scent glamored when your mates were home, hiding the babe from them until you thought of the perfect thing to say.
Guilt had started eating at you as you pulled away from them, lying about stress from the new play you were asked to write the symphony for. Azriel so desperately wanted a family, even if he would not admit it, and was willing to wait until after you had given his brothers their babies. Cassian wanted a daughter more than he wanted food some days. He spoke about it constantly, about how he would braid her hair and purchase her beautiful dresses. Rhys wanted every baby you two passed on the street, always stopping to say hello and get to hold the smallest members of his court. He said it was practice for when you would bless him. Son or daughter, it did not matter to him.
You felt like this was bound to disappoint two of them, a babe, but not theirs. You signed as you continued putting away the sheet music you had been composing on. "What are we going to do, little one?" You placed a hand on your stomach.
You were home alone, magic completely dropped, and so deep into organizing your next big composition, you had not noticed Rhys walking in with two glasses of champagne until they had long shattered on the floor.
“Baby,” he whispered. He fell to his knees before you, hands gripping your hips gently as his forehead rested against your lower stomach. “Baby.”
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him, basking in the joy he was sending so deep down the bond that your other two mates appeared. Cassian, always with weapons in hand, dropped them instantly. He didn't even care as they joined the scatter glass and champagne on the floor. He was at your and Rhysand's side instantly, kissing you deeply before kneeling next to Rhys and kissing the side of you stomach. Azriel had frozen, eyes wide and staring at you. “You're sure?”
All Rhys could do was nod, whispering again, “Baby. We're having a baby."
Dinner was a celebration just the four of you. The males all too happily planning out a nursery. You pushed the food around your plate, feeling too guilty to enjoy the meal Cassian had made you all. “Y/n, what's wrong?” Azriel pulled you to him. “Is it the babe? Do you need to lay down?”
You felt tears begin to fall as the guilt consumed you. “I don't know which one of you is the father.”
You waited. Waited for the 3 of them to fight, to lay claim to the babe, but Cassian and Rhys just both looked at Azriel and then you. “It is technically Azriel's,” the High Lord spoke slowly. “You smell like him. But it is also mine. Also, Cassian's. The babe is ours. We all are it's father.”
“But-”
“Sweetheart,” Cassian took your hand. “We knew once this bond happened, there was a chance you would get pregnant, and we wouldn't know who fathered the baby until the scent kicked in.. We do not want to be fathers, though. We want to be dads. We love you and the little babe, regardless of you smelling like Azriel.”
Azriel was nuzzled into you. “We accepted a long time ago that everything you got pregnant, you would smell like only one of us, and that one of us would get more protective.” He kept scenting you. “I would have been happy if it was Rhysand's or Cassian's.”
Rhysand finally spoke again. “A babe is always a means for Celebration as well.” You groaned. “I am thinking of an announcement at Starfall? With all of our family there?”
“That's only 2 weeks for me to plan and put something together.” You were used to Rhysand giving you short deadlines for things involving your family, the rest of the Inner Circle, and the Court of Nightmares, but for all of Velaris? You held those events to such high standards, and had since Rhysand asked you to take over that duty as High Lady.
“You could keep it simple this time?” You turned slowly to Cassian, glaring as he put his hands up in surrender. “Or not. Murder hormones kicked in today. Noted."
And “simple” had no place in the description of what you had done. You had made the choice to have the Rainbow opened to the celebration, watching as guests admired every faelight enchanted to twinkle like the stars themselves, watching as every guest took their turns on the dance floor you had put temporarily into the center of the large open theater. Rhys had allowed you to spare no expense. Vendors had made countless cakes and treats, food was plenty, drinks were pouring, and the orchestra played lively music.
You were shielded in the magic bubble all three males had demanded you be put in, but it wasn't enough for Azriel, who hung behind you like a constant threat even in his finest dress clothing.
Your own dress showed the smallest curve where your child was growing, causing every guest who greeted you and High Lord to pass their congratulations unknowing of the circumstances. “Won't they all shit when they figure out Az put a baby in you first?” You slammed an elbow into Cassian's stomach, smiling at an elderly couple as they held Rhysand's hands, praising him for bringing the city all together to celebrate a Night Court tradition and such a joyous announcement.
“We are just getting some of them okay with the idea of all of us as a mated unit. Let's not cause any heart attacks, Cassian.” He nodded to your statement and held a water glass to your mouth.
“Going to be a long night, sweetheart. Let's stay hydrated.”
The music switched to a soft violin based turn, one you had composed as Starfall began. Azriel held you close as everyone's attention turned to the sky, including yours. All three of your mates had their eyes locked on you, soft smiles on their faces as they watched the childlike wonder wash over you despite years of witnessing the event. “Always so beautiful.”
“Of course you are,” Azriel whispered. “And you will look even more beautiful when you begin to show more.”
“I can't wait,” Rhysand's hand went to that small bump, “To hold our babe.”
Cassian's hand rested on Rhysand. “Our baby. The first of many.”
“We would toast you, darling, but no champagne for you,” Rhysand handed a glass to Cass and Az, then water to you. “Darling?”
“To the stars who listen,” your voice broke as tears of joy came.
“And the dreams that are answered,” they all echoed.
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria
Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist
@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566
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oleander-witch · 1 year ago
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Second drawing for pride.
All the alternate versions for her sexuality and stuff
Cherry is her Name she is Bisexual,Polyamorous and Gender fluid
She looks like a red panda
She's from my comic Time Drift
Here's the first comic if you're interested in reading it:
Click here
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mellybaggins · 19 days ago
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Things I've learned about myself as an aegosexual person:
1. I am a (sex favorable) aegosexual, which is a microorientation on the asexual spectrum. I have a rich, explicit fantasy life contained in my own head, and I sometimes crave sex with another person (under limited circumstances.)
2. You are beautiful, gorgeous, exquisite. I can't stop looking at you. Love everything about you. I am aesthetically attracted to you but I don't ever want to have sex with you.
3. I require a deep emotional connection and a lot of trust in someone else before I can ever think about having sex with them. I can and have had sex without it, but it's purely out of desire to please another person I care about.
4. Sensual touch > sex every damn time.
5. I have many many sexual fantasies. I am not present in any of them.
6. I can never see myself having sex. As soon as I am aware of myself at all, it's over.
7. Being polyamorous is incredibly liberating to me. It takes the pressure off me so I don't feel I need to be available to my allosexual partner whenever he's in the mood, and it actually deepens our other connections. Learning I'm asexual has opened up a floodgate of honest communication between us that is wonderful and exciting.
8. I had originally completely dismissed asexuality as a possible orientation for myself because I (wrongly) assumed that asexual= sex repulsed and that's it. I still feel on some level that I don't belong in the asexual community because I am too sex favorable to be included, even though I do not and (in retrospect) have never experienced sexual attraction to anyone, including my partner whom I dearly love.
9. The 'lightbulb' moment for me was learning that there are many different forms of attraction. What I thought was sexual attraction was actually a combination of many other forms - aesthetic, romantic, emotional, and intellectual. I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn't feel physical attraction to anyone close to me, but I did still feel deep connection and the need to be close.
10. There are a lot of us. More than you think. Most aegosexual people are not even aware of it themselves because there is so little representation of us anywhere, especially in media. Finding out that other people experience sex the same way I do has been enormously comforting and validating.
I hope this helps someone else discover that they're not broken and that their experience is valid.
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marbogdanis · 2 years ago
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guys i think i might not be straight
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askmafiabobvelseb · 9 months ago
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also
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Happy Bisexual Visibility Day
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scribblingnevermore · 10 months ago
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So yeah, turns out im poly?
Made a patch to put on the jacket :3
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lyricdissonance · 2 years ago
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is there a post somewhere with a list of words that can be used for non-traditional relationships? cuz for me it's like, girlfriend/boyfriend is fun to say but doesn't convey our nonbinary and arospec identities, friend with benefits feels awkward, queerplatonic partner (or even just partner) seems to me to imply a level of long term commitment we haven't reached yet. in the end I'm just glad we're happy together but it would be nice to try on some labels and see what feels good
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themaveriqueagenda · 2 years ago
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happy polyamory day to polyamorous maveriques!
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readychilledwine · 1 year ago
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The Ruining of Seraphina
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Summary - Seraphina should have known better than to make a bet against her mate. Especially when losing that bet means being free use for the Inner Circle for a week.
Warnings - all of them, this is a free use open relationship fic. Loose editing 💕 if you squint, there are no errors.
Prompt - Day 7 - Free Day
A/N - I know. You've all been waiting for this one. Happy last @polyacotarweek post! Please keep in mind while reading this, this is both kink and CNM, but the two do not always go together. The smut happens fast, but I tried to keep it enjoyable since this goes through a week, day by day, of Sera being used by the IC. I am willing to expand on any of these days, so I wanted them to be vague yet enticing enough for all of you that the filth was accomplished. For obvious reasons, Elain is not included. It would be super odd to have Sera hooking up with her brother's mate as Azriel watched.
I wrote this with the idea of Sera finding sexual freedom through an open relationship based on other polyamorous people and couples. Being in a CNM relationship can be liberating for someone who grew up with a very strict background, and she felt perfect for this.
💕Poly+Acotar Week Masterlist💕
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“Azriel, I hardly know what this means.” Azriel kissed Seraphina’s palm, leaning It against his face as he smiled up at her.
“For a week, the inner circle will be able to use you however they want when they want. You said you wanted to fuck all of them, here's your chance, my flame.”
You bit, nodding, “And you will be there for all of it?”
“Only if you need. Open relationship, baby, we talked about this.”
“I want you there. Sometimes.”
“Then tug the bond in those instances.”
Monday was the first day it began, and to Sera's surprise, Morrigan was the first to enter her and Azriel's room. She wasted no time, pouncing on Sera and dominating her in a passionate kiss.
Sera smiled as her kissed trailed lower nipping at her lip slightly. “Top or bottom?”
“I've ever laid with another female before. I'm at your disposal, Mor.” She watched the blonde's eyes roll before she forced Sera onto her back. Mor situated herself on Seraphina's face, and instinct took over.
The position was so familiar to her, she replicated the movements she begged Azriel for, pushing her tongue into a tight opening, nose nudging her sensitive clit.
Morrigan was beautiful, but she knew now why her and Eris would never work, and the proof was leaking onto her face, tasting like honey with every drop.
Her hands squeezed Mor's ass and the message was received. Mor took control, hand tangling into red hair as she rode Sera's face.
She made the prettiest noises. Soft breathy moans that shot straight to Sera's core, soaking the bed below her.
In what felt like too short of a time, Mor fell apart on her face, plush lips parting into a silent scream as she did and leaned into the headboard.
She took a few breaths before laying next to Sera. “I really needed that.”
The Autumn female blinked. “You can have it any time.”
Tuesday she woke to fingers in her cunt and a tongue on her clit.
Nesta was, in Seraphina’s mind, the picture perfect female, and as she leaned forward on her elbows, moaning her name as her body began to shake, Nesta just smiled.
The female did not let up for hours, her face was constantly buried between long silky legs, finger in her cunt, mouth whispering to her about the filthy novel she was reading with two female characters.
It led to them covered in sweat, Sera on her hands and knees as Nesta and Azriel were kissing above her. She had her lips around Azriel, sucking him in time with thrusts from Nesta's strap on.
The strap was thick, faked veins running along her soft core and hitting every possible spot. Sera was whining around Azriel, body exhausted and overstimulated from countless orgasms from Nesta.
She came screaming, Azriel following her over the edge as she did. Nesta seemed to find completion as well, nails digging into the other female's ass as she did.
The three of them laid together in the bed, Seraphina reading the novel as Nesta and Azriel spoke. They began to laugh as her face flushed, “Don't act all innocent when I just fucked you with a strap on.”
Wednesday she was cornered by Rhys and Feyre after dinner. The High Lady smiled, pulling her into the room before pushing her on the bed.
For the second time that week, Sera enjoyed a female on her face, moaning as the taste of Feyre hit her tongue. The High Lady was not shy, chasing her own desires as Azriel and Rhysand watched whiskey in hand. The males were all smiles, watching the two of them as Feyre then leaned forward, returning the favor.
It was almost hard to focus, nerves being stimulated while she desperately wanted Feyre to cum for her, but she powered through, loving every second of Feyre's fingers and tongue.
They came at the same time, making both males lose a bet and allowing Feyre to then schedule a time with Azriel for a foursome later, a foursome you eagerly agreed to.
Thursday was a night alone with 3 males carved by Gods. Rhysand had taken her first, finding her in the shower and fucking her until she screamed. He buried himself inside of her as he came, biting her hard before carrying her out to her bedroom. Azriel and Cassian were already on the bed. The shadowsinger was sucking Cassian's cock, watching from hooded eyes as the general moaned for him. Rhysand laid you next to Cass, “Do you want more, or do you want to be forced to watch?” Lost whiskey eyes, blinked back at him, compliant to anything he would want. “You are just a little fuck doll, aren't you?”
Sera used to laugh when Nesta would make jokes about wanting to fuck Eris, Cassian, and Azriel at the same time. “I have three holes,” Lady Death would always smile as she said. Now she understood, and she would confirm to Nesta to take the opportunity if it ever arrived.
Friday morning, Rhys had been long gone, but she woke up to the sound of Azriel's moans. Cassian, the most eager male she had ever met, was between Azriel's legs, sucking his cock. Her mate's eyes were screwed shut, breathing heavy as his hand found Cassian's hair. The general motioned to her mate's wings, and Sera obliged immediately.
She licked the soft membrane, fingers delicately tracing the ridge. “You've been so generous for me this week. Isn’t it your turn, Azzy? Don't you want to cum for Cassian?” Her mated nodded eagerly, pulling her into a heated kiss.
Her and Cassian played with Azriel for hours, not stopping until they were all drenched in sweat and exhausted.
The three of them had dinner alone, Sera telling them about Nesta's fantasy and giving her mate permission to pursue, but not touch her older brother further than kissing.
Saturday was spent with Amren. The ancient being has no interest in her sexually, but they still spend the Day together. Amren wanted to study her powers, believing there had to be more to the female for her to have been with such a powerful male by the Cauldron.
She was correct, but Amren kept it to herself, not wanting to speak of what she discovered, nor how Seraphina scent changed when Amren cut her. No, she'd save that secret for another time.
Sunday was spent with just Azriel, his body desperate for hers, he had warded the door, wrapping her legs around his waist as he fucked her slow and deep, relishing in each breathy whisper of his name.
Sharing her had been fun, but the male had been jealous all week, almost territorial as he her heard moaning another's name. They had both wanted to try an open relationship, and they had both loved it, but they found their limitations.
Azriel groaned as Sera tightened around him, her back arching her breasts into him. “So good, Sera,” she whimpered at his praise, legs wrapping tighter as she lifted her hips more. “I've heard all week how delicious you are, you know that?” She whined as he hit the spot no one had found all week. “But who fucks you best?”
“You.”
His pace picked up, now slamming into that same spot until her vision began to blur with tears. “Who's Mate are you?”
“Yours.”
She could feel that familiar edge. Azriel always brought her to approaching, head buried in his neck as it did, and nails clawing into his back. “Cum. Cum for me, Sera.”
And she did, body so worn and sensitive from endless fucking that she came, moaning and crying his name over and over like a prayer. He spilled into her, biting her neck as he did to leave a bruise, marking his territory and who she belonged to.
He collapsed above her, forearms falling next to her face. He placed soft kisses on her cheekbones, nose, and then lips, smiling as he did. “Good week?”
“The best.”
“Feelings on keeping our relationship open?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Gods, yes.”
“I think so too.”
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"You've ruined me, you know that?
Azriel kissed her shoulder. "Ruined you or freed you?"
"Freed," she said slowly. "I think you've freed me. Having no limitations on sex is-"
"Liberating?"
She nodded, kissing him again. "Liberating."
General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria
Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist
@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566
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takes1 · 2 months ago
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Hello! Popping my request in here. ‘ v ‘
Your Kuroo and Kenma fic was to die for, but what I really need is a NSFW Bokuto and Kuroo with reader. Maybe a polyamorous situation?
Because how could you have one without the other? they’re a package deal. 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼
kuroo x reader + bokuto nsfw
this has been in the drafts for a while, just needed to stitch it up. sorry i been gone ya'll, i'm getting ready for big girl life. i can't write and be on top of everything else at the same time rahhh
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warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI
details. fem!reader / mmf threesome / f!rec oral / praise kink!bokuto / scheming kuroo / soft dom!kuroo, switch!bokuto / overstim / begging / established relationship / himbo!bokuto / everybody is possessive / shallow 3sum vs legit poly theme / 2.3k words
links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu.
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Your feet were dragging across the floor as you shouldered the bedroom door open.
The exhaustion you had accumulated from that cursed double-shift left your face heavy, your limbs aching. The dull, fuzzy noise of the TV didn't even set you off as unusual.
Kuroo was sprawled across the mattress on his phone, already dressed for bed in the t-shirt you wanted to wear.
You groaned at him, grumbling some half-baked, silly threat to take his clothes off.
He laughed at you, lively, despite the late hour, and spoiled you with a flurry of kisses across all your favorite spots.
"Oohh... Bad shift?" He chuckled.
You started clumsily unbuttoning your stupid, stinky blouse for a few difficult seconds before letting his bigger, steadier hands take the role over instead. But he started doing it back up-- you let out a confused cry. He shushed you.
"What--?"
His lip was tucked between his too-perfect teeth, usually something he reserved for real exciting moments.
He whispered, "We have company, baby."
You jumped in his grip, eyes flying open to scan your bedroom, and realized somebody was sitting in his big gaming chair. It made you feel about a thousand times more tired.
There was an arm visible, troubleshooting his console, and the sound of some games getting shuffled through. The hand was huge, and you couldn't easily recognize who it belonged to. It -for sure- wasn't Kenma.
Before you could scold him for not warning you, he pressed a raunchy kiss to your jawline and pulled you in for a firm hug. You shudder, unprepared, and cautiously eyeing the back of that chair to make sure you had not just critically embarrassed yourself in front of some famous athlete.
Kuroo often had members of serious leagues over, sometimes for PR, sometimes only because he was a cool-people magnet.
"Shhh- it's just Bokuto," He grinned into your shoulder with a giggle, and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out what was so damn funny, "We're playin' some games."
That wasn't as relieving as his tone would indicate.
Bokuto was a topic between you for a few reasons you were too tired to mull over, right now.
With another shiver, perishing the thought of your 'third' talks, you pushed him softly away.
After lending you the shirt you wanted -because he always gave you what you wanted- you chose some PJ pants to wear for as long as Bokuto decided to stay over, and left once again to go wash the day off.
The idea that he might leave while you were in the shower was not reality. It wasn't much of a bother, because something about his vague form in the dark kept you feeling lighter, out of curiosity.
You slipped under the covers next to Kuroo's leg.
Clean, and cool, and tired. You didn't even reach for your phone. The lamps were on. No alarm set. Kuroo was chatting quietly to Bokuto. Their controllers were clicking. Your body kept perfectly still as you began to fall asleep. 19 hours. Of work.
You only stirred at the feeling of closeness, new and slow, on your other side.
It was a passive, warm, sort of presence. Their conversation then kept you from falling immediately back asleep.
"It's fine, dude!" Bokuto winces, realizing his own volume in the process of it coming out of his mouth. That was from your left. You shift to your right side, closer to your partner.
He's quieter, as he clarifies, "I still like hangin' out."
They were still playing, just further away from the screen.
"Maybe- uh, some other time?"
There's no response to him; only the soft sound of their fighting game. It starts to follow a rhythm of noise that lulls you back down, but you feel a hand massaging your hip.
It was impossible to mask anything with all the sleep still hanging over you. Your thighs squeezed, twitchy, and you took a short breath in.
Your gasp was not loud, but the way it stilled them made it feel that way.
"You awake, babygirl?"
That pet name was reserved for sex only-- it jumpstarts your heart. What was he playing at?
Your eyes open, barely, in a firm inspection of his face.
There was a tiny squint at the corner of his eyes. He was trying not to smile. When Bokuto looked up at him, basically asking for guidance, you put it all together.
He was scheming. This was no accident; Kuroo wasn't the type of guy to attract coincidence. Most everything he did was on purpose because he crafted it so.
"You weren't awake for all of that, were you?"
His thumb prods, firm, into your hip joint.
When you try to roll over on your back, flustered at his tone, his touch, you bump into Bokuto's knee. He must've shifted closer. You didn't know what to say-- their exchange was still vague.
His chuckle at your slight panic makes you tense.
"That'd be pretty embarrassing-," Bokuto seethes at the idea, his strong chest filling up even more. His little strangled groan, barely covered by a false cough, doesn't go unnoticed, "Not gonna lie."
You're sandwiched between them.
You need to keep your arms squeezed in because they had completely commandeered the mattress space. Your guest felt a little guilty, looking down at you, so he attempted to make things better.
Bokuto slid further down, under your covers-- you scooted closer to your boyfriend, your cheek squished into his hip.
He remained still, like he doesn't intend to... participate.
"Why don't you tell me about work, hm?"
He's taking the roll of a sentient brick wall, instigating, here and there. Your brow furrows, and you have to glance from Kuroo's genuine interest to the wild animal he invited into your apartment. Right into your bed.
No doubt Kuroo told his friend that you don't take well to the spotlight, and they're doing all the theatrics on purpose to get a reaction out of you.
"You- you don't want to hear about my shift--," You shudder.
You suppress a squeal at Bokuto's rough palm. It found part of your exposed belly, where your shirt had lifted, as a result of your squirming.
It reminds you of the rant you had gone on, the last time you talked about how bad you wanted to take both Kuroo and Bokuto. Maybe, in the safety of your relationship, and still whisked away post-orgasm, you had been overzealous with lustful desires.
Kuroo acts like you're being ridiculous. He sighs, too candid, "Of course I wanna hear- you always tell me."
His hand started rubbing your scalp, reassuring, and he tilted his head down at you.
"I look forward to it."
So soft, and sweet, and considerate. You sink, a little, and think about apologizing-
That big hand slid up and firmed right under your bare chest, "Ohh, I wanna hear about it, too!"
You wince away from Bokuto's intense eye contact-- you can't even look this man in the face, or keep your composure with his hand on your tummy. Forget about- What all did you say? Let him destroy you?
The weight of his dense body made the bed shift deeper in his favor, not Kuroo's. He was more than capable of destruction.
"Really?" You sigh, breathless.
Kuroo shimmied down to your side, at last, but it came with him stripping all of you of the blankets.
"Well, he can ask the questions," Bokuto leaned further over you, a new smell, a new kind of intensity.
His brow finally lowered to something more relaxed, his quick eyes bouncing around your somewhat covered body. A thumb, you're not sure whose, brushed your nipple and you flinched up towards him. The two worked in tandem to get you cozied up that way.
Finally, a hand that you know is Kuroo's, grabbed your chin to bring you in for a kiss. Bokuto watched, impatient, fully palming your chest.
Kuroo's mellow, deep voice brushes your lips, not quite done with kissing you, "D'ya mind if he gets a little taste while you take me through it?"
He was dumb, and hot, and enthusiastic-- the kind you might not want to date, but would make for a fun time. You trust that they talked about it. You trust that Kuroo knows you enough at this point, and will stop things if they get too out of hand. You're into it by now.
"I don't mind," You barely get out before he takes your mouth hostage again.
Bokuto, though clumsy, and heavy-handed and overexcited at the best of times, still made for a welcome change.
"Ohh- fuck, f-uck-!"
His tongue lapped enthusiastically at your soaked, sensitive cunt. Kuroo kept one of your legs to himself, holding it casually, with a lazy smile across his face.
"Mmm, does'he feel good, babygirl?" His words were a warm, confident purr against your hairline.
Kuroo typically was slower, kind of went at his own pace, when he went down on you. He liked talking while he did this sort of thing.
Bokuto sucked a soft, wet kiss to your clit before pressing the flat of his tongue all the way down, then right back up. He carried no intention of keeping anything 'toned down,' for the sake of romance. He just wanted you to cum, as fast as possible.
You gasped, nails scratching hard against his forearms.
"Yes-y-es, ah-h-!"
He hummed, approval- if you had to put a connotation to it, fingers firming around your throat, "Good, good. Now tell me about your day."
Your noncompliant whine, though realistically earned and downright adorable to him, was not what he asked for. He rested the side of his face onto his fist and sighed, pouty, at you.
"Hmmmm," Bokuto's interjection buzzed against you-
"M-mnh!"
"You two are, like, so cute," His head popped up for a second, his fingers grazing over your entrance, instead while he addressed his friend, "Good for you guys."
Kuroo grinned. "Thanks, buddy."
Their relaxed, apathetic conversation lit fire-y chills down your arms. Kuroo slid a heavy palm down to your wrist, smooth and controlled.
Sure, he was experimental most of the time, but this was a big first for both of you. You assumed he might tread on the more cautious side. Did he have everything so planned out that he didn't feel protective, or conservative with the information he gave, at least?
"Where's my recap, babygirl?" He, again, sighs at you. It's chock-full of wistful attitude.
"I-, I, I-- hh-oh-! Oh, my gosh--," Tears pricked your the corners of eyes.
Maybe Bokuto was really good at giving head, and Kuroo knew it? That's why he was forcing you to split your mind?
His tongue was just faster- the right pressure you needed, the right mix of messy and careful, quick and slow. His nose bumped your clit as he really got his face in it.
"Awww," Kuroo cooed at you.
The smile on his jaw faded every time he saw you looking at him. What an actor. He wasn't cut out to be so cold but he sure loved to pretend, especially for an audience.
"You better not cum, princess. I promised Koutarou he could try that pretty pussy out tonight."
His threat was so toneless, you took a few seconds of empty, clueless staring to understand him.
'Don't cum' didn't match up with his soft lips, sucking on your clit again. You felt him smile.
"Mm-!" You went to push him off of you, because you were way too close, "Bokuto- pl-ease--,"
"Shhh, baby. Call him Koutarou," He snickered at you.
Your fingers had barely reached his stiff, frosted tips before Kuroo intercepted them. His longer digits possessively laced through the webs of yours.
But he didn't take them back, like you expected him to. He set your hand on the back of Bokuto's head, pulling him in, encouraging him to stay right there--
"Mmmh," He moaned, obedient, relaxing against you.
His strong arms pulled at your hips. It shoved you right to the edge and there was nothing left to stop the momentum.
You squeaked out a panicked sound, and now that Kuroo wasn't holding your leg open, you squeezed his head between your thighs, panting, begging for a break. It didn't help to move him.
"A-aah-!"
Kuroo couldn't help but grin at your conflicted bliss and despair. It was, after all, evidence that you wanted to be good for him.
You were a trembling mess as you came down, muttering-, "N-no-, nono- I wasn't-- ah-hm, Koutarou!!"
Though Kuroo let your hand slip out from under his, his own was still affectionate and in place, tangled in the roots of his hair to keep him there.
It sounded wet, what he was doing to you.
You flinched, moaning and squirming at the overkill, but didn't dare grovel. Kuroo liked it too much. You'd be digging a deeper hole if you gave him the chance to tease.
Though overstim was his favorite torture on you, he couldn't be bothered to punish you for long after that. You tried so hard not to cum, and you were just too cute, so you got an automatic pass.
His palm slid away after he got his fill. Bokuto came up, practically drowning, but happy about it.
"You've gotta teach me that, sometime," Kuroo rolled onto his back and put hands behind his head. He was so hard, and it was laughably obvious through his shorts, but he made no moves to palm himself. Maybe he was trying something out?
His thigh prodded at yours, back and forth real slow, as a grounding sensation for you.
Bokuto licked his lips, wiped his face, and peered down at you like a meal, "How's tomorrow morning work?"
You were shaking like a leaf.
"Or--," He smirked, a little toothy and crooked at the solid number he had already done on you, "Fuck. What about right now?"
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☆VIP☆
@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @megapteraurelia
my masterlist. more haikyuu
♡ notes: i can't PROMISE part 2 bc i've realized i be letting ppl down too much not delivering those. you're welcome to ask tho
♡ (i love getting inbox notifs) lmk what you thought: inbox
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touhouweed · 4 months ago
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monogamous people that have visible contempt for polyamorous folk are the most confusing mfs out there, like dont you have a blind date to go get ghosted by or smth?
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May I tell you about the matriarchal polyamorous lesbian ape that is now considered to be the boat intelligent nonhuman primate and also our closest known relative (tied with chimpanzees)
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Everyone meet the bonobo
They live in female lead societies where lesbian sex is more common than heterosexual. This is because they use sex as a tool to deescalate situations, apologize, and also simply for recreation. They are also the only animal besides ourselves that have been observed tongue kissing and giving oral sex (in all variations of pairings)
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Because they have natural deescalation tendencies, they are considered to be far less aggressive than their counterparts, the chimpanzee.
Bonobos have also been known to share food when there is no clear benefit for the sharer, come to the aid of humans when they sound distressed, and even comfort crying humans until they seem visibly better
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They are also the only other species on earth to use midwives!
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Anyway, I think they’re neat and I’m upset I didn’t know more about them until recently
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. . . .
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lesbianpolls · 1 year ago
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happy lesbian visibility week to all lesbians!! all lesbians are important and valued members of the lesbian community!! this includes trans lesbians, intersex lesbians, he/him lesbians, nonbinary lesbians, lesboys and male lesbians, transmasc lesbians, multigender lesbians, butch and femme lesbians, aspec lesbians, polyamorous lesbians, mspec/bi/pan/omni/abro/etc lesbians, gaybians and straightbians, any and all good faith lesbians!! you belong in the lesbian community!! fuck the exclusionists!!
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risuola · 2 years ago
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▶ CATORU — stealing Suguru's clothes just feels natural, they're comfy and cozy and they smell like him, but thing is — his hoodies are black... and Satoru's hair is white.
contents: college+roommates!au, fluff, polyamorous relationship — wc. 1079
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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“Geez, you really need to brush that cat out,” your best friend commented, plucking a white hair off your black hoodie once you dropped down onto the couch next to her placing the wine glasses, totally not regular glasses, and a bottle on the table. You invited her for the first time after you moved into the new apartment. It was a celebration of your new place, successfully passed exams and just a nice opportunity to catch up on life.
“Cat?” You looked at her; confusion apparent in your eyes and she pointed at the hairs in her fingers, few short, snow-white strands that she collected from you and surroundings. It wasn’t unusual – you had a habit of stealing Suguru’s clothes (and they are usually black), and Gojo has a habit of nuzzling into you, demanding head scratches so it’s only natural that his white hairs stick to you and are quite visible. “Ah, that cat. Yeah, I really need to brush him out. Or maybe I’ll just shave him, I don’t know yet.”
The thought made you giddy inside, it really cracked you up. Before that, you never realized that your friend had no idea what kind of relationship you are in. You never hid it from her, you openly told her about the three of you doing things together, but somehow, the possibility of you sharing your life with Suguru and Satoru at the same time flew over her head. You also are quite openly affectionate with both of your boys, but it’s possible that once your friend saw you kissing Geto, she automatically categorized your interactions with Gojo as purely friendly. You were not even sure if she ever had a chance to see you with your white-haired princess.
“It’s cute you and Geto took a white kitten. It’s because of Gojo, right?” She smiled cutely, throwing the hairs away as you poured her some of the cheap prosecco.
“Yeah, the kitten is definitely reminding us of Satoru.” You laughed softly, taking your own glass to your lips. “Our little Catoru.”
“Awww, that’s adorable,” she squealed, savoring the taste of pinkish liquid. “How is he dealing with it, by the way?”
“Dealing with what?”
“You know, how’s Gojo dealing with the fact you stole his best friend? I was wondering, is he okay with you being and living with Suguru? They are pretty much joined at the hip.” She was curious, genuinely, and you can tell she really has no clue, so you decided to play along.
“I mean, Satoru is doing great, you don’t need to worry.”
“’ts good,” your bestie exhaled with some kind of relief, and you couldn’t shake off the amusement off your shoulders. You wondered how she would react to the revelation of your polyamorous relationship. Would she be surprised? In your eyes, it was only natural to accept both Satoru and Suguru into your life, the boys are inseparable, you couldn’t date one without dating the other. That was just the way it is, the packaged deal, the law of nature if you will. “Is your boyfriend home?”
“Sugu? He has martial arts training today. Will be back later. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re my guest,” you reassured her and the conversation went smoothly from that point. You talked a little about everything, about college, about teachers and recent exams, about love life and your recent dates.
“Is Gojo always third-wheeling you two?” She asked when you were telling her about your last movie night. The one that got all three of you deadly backpain afterwards because you all fell asleep on the couch in a position that even got Suguru and his super trained, stretched and fit body suffering. It’s better not to recall how you and Satoru felt.
“Sometimes I feel like I am third-wheeling them,” you laughed, “but yea, we’re actually–“
“Can I see the cat?” Your friend cut you off, suddenly all excited. “God, I completely forgot about him, can I see that fluffball?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure the cat is sleeping and you know, that fluffball gets grumpy when woken up.”
“Pleeeaaaase, I promise, I won’t wake it up. I just want to see the little Catoru, he must be adorable.”
With an exhale you decided to give in. You knew Satoru had a rough night, he got back home in the morning after a visit at his parents’ house and you know his family can be pretty distressing. Now he’s probably sleeping it off, but just a quick visit shouldn’t hurt. With that thought you took your friend to your bedroom.
“Just please, don’t scream, okay? He’s dead tired.” You half-whispered, before opening the doors. She nodded and you peeked inside, just to make sure the cat wasn’t sprawled naked on the bed or something and once sure that it’s safe, you walked in, carefully placing your steps to make as little noise as possible.
Satoru was sleeping, tightly cocooned in blankets with only his head visible from the nose up. He was really worn out, you could tell by the way he was breathing, so deeply and heavily what only happened when he was exhausted. You crouched next to the bed, gently running your fingers through his hair and he purred something, automatically leaning into your touch. Satoru could be at his death bed and would still search for your warmth.
“Do you need something?” You asked quietly, brushing little circles onto his scalp. He made some kind of noise that sounded a little like a no, and you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “If you do, just call me, baby, I’ll be next door.”
Satoru purposefully uncovered the lower half of his face so you could give him a peck, and once he got that, he turned back to his cocoon. You whispered him a little love you, got up and left, leading your visibly stoked friend back to the living room. She was shocked, but at the same time it looked like a realization was hitting her hard and you saw in real time how her expression was changing.
“That was the cat?” She whisper-screamed.
“Yup.”
“So you and Geto and Gojo—?"
“Yup.”
“Like, all three of you?”
“Yes,” you chuckled, pouring her more wine. “I actually had no idea that you don’t know. I thought we’re quite obvious.”
“Now as I think about it, you kinda were… I’m gonna need more wine.”
“I’ll text Suguru.”
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taglist: @gojos-thot-patrol-main , @chuluoyi
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cripplecharacters · 8 months ago
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what are the top 5 things you'd like to see a disabled character do in a story?
Hey! This is a very vast question and a lot of it would depend on the character's actual disability - I have completely different wishlists for what I'd like to see intellectually disabled characters do versus what I'd like to see characters with facial differences do. Different stereotypes and tropes affect different groups of disabled people differently - to work with this fact, the below list will try to account for as large amount of disabled character as I can reasonably think of, but it won't have as much detail as you might want. If you have a specific kind of character in mind, feel free to send another ask.
Not in specific order:
Disabled characters being in love. Disabled x disabled, disabled x abled, disabled x very different kind of disabled, all these variants but including more than 2 characters (since I've yet to see a polyamorous disabled character), all of this.
And I mean in actual relationships, not the pitiful and devoid of actual chemistry thing that we usually get (think "really sad disabled man only becomes happy after an abled woman takes pity on him, but they never kiss or god forbid have sex because that's gross and the disableds surely don't do that anyway").
I want to see an interabled couple going through IVF because they want to have kids, a wife with hemiplegia getting to grow old and wrinkly with her autistic husband, a lesbian with Treacher Collins syndrome moving in with her chronically ill girlfriend after a month of knowing each other, DeafBlind men getting hands on each other in the bathroom of a shitty nightclub, a trans woman with autism asking out a trans man with Down syndrome via her AAC tablet, a neurotypical guy with an obvious crush on his classmate with cerebral palsy.
I want to actually see disabled people being shown as desirable partners, good parents and grandparents, potential crushes, going through some new feelings and going on both good and bad dates, from all walks of life, of all sexualities and genders. Just like abled people.
Disabled characters participating in their community. Especially severely and/or visibly disabled characters. This is obviously a concept as vague as it could possibly be, but a big problem with a lot of disabled characters is that they don't... do anything. Not in the sense that they aren't "active enough", but that they aren't really... characters. They're often reduced to a family member who's at home and maybe the abled character takes care of them sometimes, but that's seemingly all that happens; they have no interests, hobbies, agency, preferences, or an internal thought process. All they do is wait for an abled savior to do something to them, not even with them.
I want to see more disabled characters who have jobs (whether it's a "regular" job, a supported employment workplace, a creative job that maybe they can only do a few hours a week, or self-care as a full-time job kind of thing), participating in hobbies that are accessible and/or modified to their ability level, emailing or sending pigeon letters to their friends, trying out new stuff that they're interested in, having actual complex relationships with their caregivers. Anything to actually make them feel like characters that exist in their setting, not just cardboard cutouts that the author had no ideas for.
Disabled characters who are a part of real-world disability (and adjacent) culture. Obviously also a vast topic. Most disabled characters, regardless of setting, are completely separated from concepts that were made by disabled people for disabled people; usually the connection to disability is their actual medical condition and a sterile mobility aid. This is not incorrect or bad to represent since that describes a lot of people, but I'd like to simply see more variety.
I want to see disabled characters who do parasports, who are excited about tactile art, went to blind/Deaf/SPED schools, call themselves #a babe with a mobility aid, decorate their AAC device, learn about disabled history, experience Feelings when hearing that Neanderthals cared about their disabled children, go to disability-centric events or support groups to meet people similar to them.
Do all disabled people do these? Absolutely not, but I'd like for even 1% of fictional characters to represent those who do.
Yeah I just want more disabled characters doing sports. As in real-life sports that real-life disabled people do, apologies to all the fantasy swordfighting that's out there.
There are so many sports out there we can do, some are adapted, some have a sitting or wheelchair version, while others were made specifically for us. Team sports are such a good opportunity to have your character have a community of people like them, have interesting dynamics, yet the only anything I can think of that's about it is REAL by Takehiko Inoue (wheelchair basketball) and the art by @/gayaest / @/sproutwiki (sitting volleyball). Also some Paralympics documentaries that I can count on a single hand - there's like three of them.
I want to see characters who are starting out and really suck at their sport, ones who are decent, ones with ridiculous sports-anime-level over the top abilities. I want to see all kinds of sports done by all kinds of disabled characters; blind kids learning goalball with their blind parents, quadriplegic guys working their ass off to qualify for national murderball championships, folks using sticker-covered bright-pink ramps in their boccia games, people with POTS playing along with their abled partner on their wheelchair rugby league team, standing fencers becoming disabled and adapting to wheelchair fencing that they love just as much. More disabled people having fun, knowing other disabled people, having interests!
Also, parasports are just cool as fuck and interesting to both watch and read about.
Disabled characters getting to make bad decisions. Disability representation is often extremely black-and-white in terms of morality: the character is either an angel who always does the right thing and talks about being grateful a lot, or the character is comically evil, wanting revenge because of their disability, hating their disability, constantly in grief and anger since not a single mildly ok thing happened to them since they became disabled. Neither of these feel like real people.
Disabled characters should be able to say hurtful things, get mad, lie, and whatever else, without being demonized to hell for it the same way abled characters are. They should be allowed to consciously make a decision that they shouldn't take (also known as "dignity of risk" in context of disability). They should get the same consequences for mistakes as everyone else and need to have the opportunities to actually make them.
In a much shorter way: more complex disabled characters.
These are things that I'd enjoy seeing for disabled characters. But the main thing would probably be that I want more of them. The scope of disabled characters in media is so painfully narrow because there's so few of them + they're usually capped at one per series. More writing featuring multiple disabled people please.
Here is a list of wishes from other mods who wanted me to throw them here:
Disabled characters who act like the author did more than a 10 min google search about their disabilities. [So authors doing actual research.]
More disabled characters of color. A lot of time disabled characters are white because it's only acceptable for them to be one kind of marginalized. In real life that's not how it works. People of color are disabled too!
Characters with comorbidities, characters with physical and mental health and developmental symptoms. Disability doesn't just come with one cut and dry disorder all the time - you can even be diagnosed with some things and undiagnosed with others.
[A character can have 5 comorbidities, or 5 completely unrelated disabilities - both happen. Or, most frequently, a bit of both.]
Characters existing in all parts of their diagnostic journey. [So characters who are yet to be diagnosed, currently investigating their symptoms, ones recently diagnosed, and ones who had their diagnosis for their whole lives - and as mentioned previously, you can be on one stage with disability A, and on another with disability B.]
Characters whose whole life isn't just tragedy/struggle! See this a lot when a story with disabled character is just about how life is hard for them as disabled person. Would love disabled characters being leads in other genres and just existing as people. Not to say disability isn't a struggle, but there is more to life and person than disability.
mod Sasza
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lura-valentine · 9 days ago
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Choose Your Own Adventure!
MHA / BNHA Writing event
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Part 6: The first Piercing
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This will be an interactive writing event where you decide what happens next!
How does it work❓️
🐵 Character choice - completed 📖 First part of the story Post - concluded 🗳️ At the end of the story there is a survey on how it should continue 🌐 The majority decides what happens next 🔄 The cycle repeats itself until the story ends
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–> To Kaji's Profile #kaji black character profil
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Overview
Vote start
Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4 ● Part 5 ● Part 6
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The sun bathed the apartment in a golden light that shone through the window onto the furniture. In the open kitchen, Kaji stood, a dishcloth in his hand, drying the last still-damp bowl, his movements concentrated, almost meditative. His wings were tucked in, only a few individual feathers twitched slightly every time a drop of water fell from the faucet into the sink. The steaming teapot still sat on the countertop, the scent of green jasmine tea hanging in the air like a gentle reminder of tranquility.
From the living room, the monotonous murmur of the television drifted over, interrupted by the characteristic creak of the sofa as someone moved. Dabi was stretched out, one arm casually thrown over the backrest, his legs crossed. An interview was playing on the screen – A presenter with a fake smile, and, in his shadow, Hawks. Confident, with that eternally charming smile that sounded mocking even through the glass.
A throaty, dry laugh erupted from Dabi's chest. Nothing loud, just a tiny burst of something that was neither amusement nor anger.
Kaji turned around, raised an eyebrow, and gave his father a skeptical look. "What is? Usually, you want to burn down the TV as soon as a hero is seen for more than three seconds."
Dabi shrugged almost imperceptibly, his eyes still on the screen where Hawks was delivering some standard phrase about responsibility and hope. "It's still like that," he murmured, "but with him, it's different. Still the same, just different."
Kaji put the towel aside, rested his hip against the counter, and crossed his arms. "Different?" he asked slowly, his gaze boring deeper into his father's profile, as if searching for the answer in the furrows of his scars.
Dabi was silent for a moment, the shadows of the past looming in the lines around his eyes, and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded hoarse, not from the smoke of the cigarette, which was missing for once, but from something older, unspoken.
"Hawks once stood between me and your mother." The sentence fell like a stone into still water, spreading through the warmth of the apartment and chilling the air between them. "She didn't make up her mind until you were born, and she held you in her arms for the first time. Before that, everything was still open."
Kaji stared at his father, the echo of his words still ringing in his head, like the rustling of a house of cards slowly collapsing, made up of everything he thought he knew.
"Wait..." His voice was quiet, ragged, almost as if he had to reassemble it. "Are you seriously telling me Mom didn't even know who my father was until I was born? Because she... because she slept with you and Hawks?"
The sentence suddenly hung in the air, heavy and unvarnished, like a broken mirror glinting in the afternoon sun. Dabi turned his head, his gaze lost for a moment in the dust dancing in the air. Then he nodded, calmly, almost serenely.
"Yes," he said simply, almost casually, but there was no mockery, no provocation in his tone – just an old truth that had been frozen for too long. "But before you go off on some dramatic tangent – ​​it wasn't cheating, backstabbing, or anything like that. We…" he shrugged, as if he couldn't find the word right away, "we had a polyamorous relationship. Open. Honest. Nobody was doing anything secret."
Kaji blinked, visibly surprised. "You want to tell me, you... Mom... and Hawks..." He hesitated and frowned. "You were in a relationship? To three?"
A dry laugh escaped Dabi's throat, muffled and brittle, like a hot coal falling into cold water. "Well, welcome to your origin story, kid." Then, with a sideways glance and a crooked grin that was a touch too tired to be truly cheeky: "And yes, if you want to know – I had a thing with Hawks too. And before you ask – no, it wasn't a great love story. But it worked. Sometimes, anyway."
Kaji ran his hand through his hair, the single white strand shimmering briefly in the light. "Wow..." He couldn't say anything else. Just wow. Then he slumped backward against the countertop, as if he needed to hold on to something to keep from slipping through the cracks in the floor amidst all these new thoughts.
Dabi muted the TV, letting the screen continue to flicker, as if the sound were now just superfluous noise in a world that was taking on a whole new tone. "Kid..." he began without looking at him, "you have no idea how complicated all of that was. Or how beautiful. Or how brutally honest."
A hint of warmth crept into Kaji's gaze, but also something distant, like a shadow on the horizon that had yet to explain itself.
"I think I need some tea," he finally murmured.
Dabi grinned narrowly. "Or something stronger."
"Nah..." Kaji shook his head, the words still half-dazed. "Tea will do for now. My brain's been burning enough for now. Besides, Mom will rip our heads off when she comes home later and I'm drunk."
"True..." Dabi murmured, sinking deeper into the pillows, his gaze lingering on the silent television image, which slowly slid from a brightly colored commercial into the soft, documentary-like light of a savannah where elephants leisurely trudged through dry dust. "I sometimes forget you're only sixteen. No wonder, the way you talk sometimes. Almost like her."
Kaji said nothing. His eyes reflected the dim light of the television, the features of his face soft, almost childlike for a moment – as if what had just weighed so heavily on him were slowly slipping away to make room for a different kind of reflection. Then, after a while, very quietly, almost casually, as if it were just one thought among many:
"Do you think... she would have chosen you too if I were from Hawks?"
There was no accusation in his voice, no bitterness. Just an honest, open question – but it hit Dabi like an invisible punch to the gut. His shoulders tensed beneath his black shirt, his gaze remained fixed on the screen, but he no longer saw the animals, no longer the dusty horizon of Africa – he saw the other horizon, that day when everything fell and was reassembled, amid labored breathing and far too loud silence.
"She broke up with him... I was there. Not directly, but... I heard." His voice had become rougher, quieter. "She told him she didn't see a future with him. Not because she didn't like him – she liked him, maybe even more than me. But because he was so rarely there... Always on the go, always busy – the great hero with the heart of gold, who wants to do so much good that in the end he belongs to no one."
Kaji looked at him now, motionless, but absorbing every word his father said.
"He tried to convince her. Said he could offer her everything – security, closeness, love. Even if he was rarely there. And Rain... she just shook her head, an said: What good is a nice home to me if you don't live in it?"
A smile twitched on his lips, sad, crooked. "She knew that it could go shit with me too. I wasn't much better than him back then, maybe even worse. But she said: Dabi is there for me when everything is burning and falling apart. He doesn't shy away from heated discussions or decisions, and that's what I need."
He turned his head now, looked directly at his son, without excuses, without shadows. "So yes. Even if you were from Hawks... she would have chosen me anyway. Because she knew that the two of her –you and her– would come first. Not the work, not any reputation. Just the two of you."
Kaji blinked slowly, as if he had to turn the words over inwardly and consider them from all angles. Then he lowered his gaze, his hands unconsciously playing with the still-warm teacup, the steam slowly dissipating like a fleeting thought.
"That makes sense, somehow," he murmured. "That's rare. And somehow... comforting."
Dabi laughed softly, bitterly. "That's not something people usually say about me, you know. Most people think I'm an asshole."
"Most people don't know you either," Kaji answered calmly, swirling the teacup in his hand, the liquid lapping gently against the ceramic wall, creating a quiet, almost meditative sound in the silence of the room.
Dabi raised an eyebrow, his lips curled into a mocking grin, but it wasn't exactly malicious. More like a kind of resigned amusement, the kind you develop when you've long since stopped justifying yourself.
"Most of them run away screaming or burn up in my flames before they can even get a complete sentence out," he murmured, his voice as rough as sandpaper but laced with an unexpected hint of self-deprecation.
"Oh yeah," Kaji replied, setting down the cup and leaning slightly to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes so reminiscent of Rain that it made Dabi pause for a moment. "And you always look at these people as if you had just gotten up to personally beat their existence out of their souls. Combined with the fact that you also seem totally arrogant and arrogant – is it really any wonder that everyone thinks you're the biggest asshole within a hundred miles?"
A dry laugh erupted from Dabi's chest, deep and ragged, almost like a bark that was lost in the warm air of the living room.
"Well... at least it keeps them at bay. Saves me the gossip and the smell of fear sweat."
"Charming as always." Kaji stretched his legs, folded his arms behind his head, and gave him a sideways look. "Do you realize that with this attitude you sound exactly like someone who is afraid of being liked?"
Dabi shrugged a shoulder as if he genuinely didn't care, his gaze never left Kaji's face. "Better feared than pitied. That's always been my motto."
Kaji looked forward again, his gaze resting somewhere halfway between the past and the present. "And yet mom liked you," he said finally, quietly.
Dabi didn't answer right away. His fingers drummed softly against the arm of the sofa, as if considering whether it was worth adding anything else. But then he just nodded, barely perceptibly.
"Yes," he said. "She was never impressed. Not by my flames. Not by my scars. Not even by my sharp tongue."
Kaji grinned crookedly. "That's why you still love her, huh?"
Dabi's gaze slid briefly to the door, as if expecting it to open at any moment, and his grin weakened, almost brittle. "Maybe. Or maybe because she stayed even after she learned who I really am."
Kaji watched his father silently for a while, taking his words in. Then he slowly pushed himself onto the edge of the counter, dangling his feet lightly against the kitchen cabinet as he bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin resting lightly in his hands.
"It's been a fact my entire life," he began quietly, his voice heavier than it had been a few minutes ago, as if something inside him had flipped a switch. "Mom never made a secret of it. She said I should know whose blood runs in me."
He took a deep breath, as if he needed to bring order to the roiling torrent rushing through his head.
"But only now, when I'm old enough to understand what Endeavor did to you..." He slowly raised his gaze, looking directly at Dabi, whose features were bathed in an indecipherable play of shadows and glare by the light from the screen. "...only now do I realize what a legacy this truly is. And what you spared me, simply because you were there for me."
The words hung in the air for a while, heavy and honest and so direct that they almost hurt. Dabi didn't say anything at first. He stared at the television, but didn't really see it; his gaze was empty, lost, as if he were looking through the flickering images into a past as sharp as glass. Something twitched in his face, barely visible, perhaps the hint of a smile, perhaps just the shadow of an old scar that began to burn again at certain words.
Why should I become something I hate with all my heart?, he thought, and it sounded deep inside like a truth he had to repeat to himself often enough to believe.
But what he said was dry, almost mocking.
"Thank your mother." He turned his head slightly toward him, his gaze clear again, his tone flat but not cold. "She would have smashed my head in with a frying pan if I'd treated you like my old man treated me."
A short, almost toneless laugh escaped Kaji, a little bitter perhaps, but full of warmth.
"Well... and we end up with her again," he murmured, letting his hands fall to his thighs. "The woman who managed to tame a hellhound."
"And not only that." Dabi tilted his head as if he were just now fully figuring it out, a tired but honest pride gleaming in his eyes. "She also raised that hellhound's brood. With wings, teeth, and all the shit that goes with it."
Kaji grimaced, raised an eyebrow in mock outrage, and dramatically propped himself up with a hand on his chest. "Really... I wasn't that bad." His tone sounded offended, but the twitch at the corners of his mouth betrayed him long ago – there was no genuine outrage, just the mock growl of a boy who recognized himself in his father's story but wanted to delay the mockery a little longer.
Dabi wasn't deterred, leaning back a bit, his fingers absentmindedly playing with one of Kaji's feathers, which was tucked into the cushion next to him on the sofa and a quiet, amused snort escaped him.
"Oh yeah? Then explain to me what kind of apocalyptic scenario it was when you absolutely had to bake a cake at the age of three."
Kaji blinked, briefly confused, then the memory hit like a blast of cold air through the window – and immediately his brow wrinkled.
"That doesn't count," he defended himself hastily, his cheeks slowly taking on a telltale blush. "I wanted to surprise you both..."
Dabi leaned back on the sofa, his voice dripping with ironic mockery.
"Oh yes, a surprise of eggs, milk, and flour, which you presented to us with this almost divine seriousness. The bowl was bigger than you were, and you stood there, your hair covered in flour, your wings half-unfolded, your little fingers sticking together like a chicken in the spring snow..." He shook his head, laughing harshly and quietly. "The kitchen looked like a typhoon had danced a tango in there – a mixture of flour and eggs was stuck everywhere.. Rain almost cried, whether from emotion or despair, while you said to me, 'Dad, try this! I made us a cake!'"
Kaji grimaced. "I thought it would be enough to just throw everything together and stir. How difficult can baking a cake be..."
"Very," Dabi replied dryly. "Especially when you don't use the oven and instead heat the bowl directly on the stove. The house smelled of melted plastic for days."
Kaji groaned, lowered his head, and buried his face in his hands. "Why do you remember that?!"
Dabi's face slowly contorted, almost with pleasure, while his eyes lit up as if he had been waiting for this moment for years.
"Because I knew you'd be embarrassed when you got older. Especially when I told your girlfriend or boyfriend, depending on what you'd bring home to us one day."
Kaji tore his hands from his face and his eyes were wide open in panic, as if someone had threatened his life with a gun. "You wouldn't dare!"
Dabi raised his eyebrows and looked at him with mock indifference, closing his eyes briefly and remembering Kaji's childhood.
"Oh, my son... you underestimate my need for entertainment. If I have to deal with your chaos, I at least want something to laugh about."
Kaji glared at him, half offended, half on the verge of laughter. "I never bring anyone here. Never."
"We'll see," Dabi said dryly, leaning back and letting his head sink against the backrest. "The stories are there. The opportunity will come. And I have a damn good memory when it comes to embarrassing childhood moments."
Without thinking much about it, Kaji grabbed the seat cushion that was lying on one of the bar stools and threw it at Dabi, who fended it off laughter that was so rough that it almost scratched – and yet it was soft at its core, full of memories that were not stuck in any photo album, but were burned all the more firmly into himself. But before he could comment, it was Kaji who spoke.
"If I was that bad back then..." Kaji leaned back, bracing himself with one hand, and a defiant glint flickered in his eyes. "...Then I can continue with it right away. I'm finally getting that damn eyebrow piercing. I've wanted to do that forever."
Dabi froze, and for a moment, all that could be heard was the rhythmic humming of the refrigerator in the corner. His grin gave way to a more serious expression as his gaze slowly turned to Kaji. He wasn't angry, but he seemed horrified by his son's statement.
"You want what?" he asked dryly, his tone dangerously close to the point where Kaji wasn't sure if he was joking or not.
"A piercing." Kaji shrugged as if it were nothing. "Eyebrow. Left. It definitely suits me."
Dabi rubbed his forehead with two fingers, as if that would help stave off the looming catastrophe. "Listen... I don't mind piercings. Honestly. Look at me." He raised a hand, demonstratively tapping the metal rings that adorned his own ear, which look almost elegant compared to his usual wildness.
"But..." and now he lowered his hand again and straightened up, his voice a little more insistent, "...when your mother comes home and you had a piece of metal rammed into your face at sixteen without her consent and I didn't stop it – then you can go find yourself a new father. She'll fry me. Alive. Without oil."
Kaji snorted softly, but his cheeky grin remained. "See. Once again, I am the problem. Not the piercing."
"No, no." Dabi leaned back, crossed his arms, and his voice grew more insistent. "You're the problem. Because you think you can get away with this shit. But I'll tell you what, kid..." He leaned forward slightly, his voice now quieter, raspier. "If you get a piercing, at least take me with you. So I can see what your face looks like when the needle goes through."
Kaji mock-rolled his eyes, but a slight, barely visible grin twitched across his lips. For a moment, it caused the armor to break open from sarcastic calm, as if a ray of sunlight had pushed its way through the haze.
"With pleasure, then you can tell the person I bring home how cool I was – no flinching, no complaining, simply pulled through ice cold." He grinned slightly, almost challengingly. "I'm sure it'll go down well."
Dabi snorted softly, a hoarse sound deep in his chest that was somewhere between laughter and mockery. "Boring. Where's the fun in that for me?" He sank deeper into the sofa and draped his arm over the backrest. "That would just be another story for you to brag about. But nothing I can embarrass you with later. You know... like at dinner or birthdays."
Kaji clicked his tongue. "I always forget that you're not only my father, but also my personal nightmare at family gatherings."
Dabi ignored this with a casual shrug of his shoulder before asking, seemingly lost in thought, "But why the eyebrow? I mean, yeah – it looks cool, okay. But it's just decoration. Wouldn't it make more sense to use something more practical?" A wide, amusing grin appeared on his face, which immediately made Kaji skeptical. "Like... a Jacob's ladder?"
Kaji frowned, his head jerking slightly to the side. "What the hell is a Jacob's ladder? Sounds like a B-movie from the 80s."
Dabi's eyes sparkled with amusement, as if a predator had spotted its prey. "Better not Google it. Like... not if you want to sink into the ground with shame."
Kaji blinked, visibly irritated, but also curious. "That wasn't an answer. Is that some kind of prison thing or something?"
"No. It's a genital piercing." Dabi raised an eyebrow as if he couldn't believe his son actually didn't know. "Multiple piercings along the rope of manhood."
Kaji paused. His face visibly contorted, bit by bit, as if his brain was only slowly processing what his father had just said. "...Please, what?! How the hell is that supposed to be practical?"
Dabi began to laugh loudly and with relish, like someone who knew that his next words would cause more chaos than any explosion ever could.
"You know," he began, twirling Kaji's quill between his fingers as if it were suddenly more interesting than his son's reaction, "some piercings are more than just decoration. Depending on the location, they can give your partner a whole new perspective."
Kaji narrowed his eyes as if he could banish his father's words from the room. "You're not serious."
"Oh, but," Dabi shrugged, the mischief in his eyes hard to miss. "Your mother, for example... let's just say she never saw that detail about me as a disadvantage." His grin grew wider, cheekier. "On the contrary—"
"Wow, please stop talking!" Kaji covered his ears, as if that would banish the images his mind was involuntarily piecing together. "I don't want to know what Mom finds useful about you! No, I absolutely don't! I wanted a piercing, not trauma."
"Well." Dabi leaned back, put his feet up on the coffee table, and crossed his arms behind his head. "Then maybe you should reconsider whether you want to decorate your face. Otherwise, I'll tell the person you bring home what's practical about it."
Kaji took a deep breath, his voice rising into a defiant outburst, as if he were finally letting his frustration out. "I'm not bringing anyone home because you, old man, are just waiting to embarrass me in front of them like I'm seven and peed in the—"
The metallic click of a key in a lock interrupted him. The door opened, slightly squeaking as always, and cold air rushed in from the hallway. Kaji froze mid-sentence, his face still red as a tomato with embarrassment, his mouth half-open, and Dabi –that bastard– promptly let his feet slide off the coffee table again like he was the angel on earth.
"I'm back!" came from the hallway, familiar and soft, like a warm breeze after a cold day. There was the dull sound of a suitcase being set against the wall, the rustle of feathers, then the familiar click of their heels on the wood.
Rain entered the living room and stood in the doorway, her coat still on, her hair slightly ruffled by the wind outside. Her eyes took in the scene in a single glance – the silent television, Dabi on the sofa, and her son.
Kaji sat stock still, her hands on her knees, her gaze directed to the side in panic, his face flushed with shame like the setting sun.
"Kaji?" Rain frowned and immediately stepped closer, her hand quickly resting on his forehead before he could react. "Do you have a fever? Are you okay?"
"No! So... yes. Not in the way you think!" he stammered, backing away as if about to storm into his room, but then looked at Dabi, who was barely able to suppress a laugh.
"He's... just hitting puberty, Rain," was all he said, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"Oh God." Rain stared at her son with wide eyes, then turned to Dabi. "What did you tell him?!"
"Just something practical about piercings," he said dryly, standing up and stretching extensively as if this had all been nothing more than a normal afternoon.
Kaji muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'just kill me' as he dropped his face back into his hands. Rain, on the other hand, stood silently for a moment, her eyes wandering in disbelief from her son to Dabi, who was standing casually in the living room with his hands in his trouser pocket as if everything was fine.
Then her eyes widened and her mouth opened briefly, but no sound came from her lips. Her confusion and prescient thoughts were hard to miss. "Dabi, darling. What did you tell our son?"
Dabi started moving slowly, his step lazy, almost leisurely like that of a predator in his territory, his shoulders relaxed, his gaze fixed on her as if he hadn't seen her in years. "What I told..." he murmured, stopping in front of her, placing one of his rough hands gently on her waist and the other behind her neck, "...we can discuss it later."
Then he pulled her to him, his lips found hers, firm and demanding, a silent catching up on days that had felt like months. His grip was softer than usual, as if he'd missed her closeness, or was he just doing it to distract her?
Rain took a breath before she pulled away—a smile played on her lips, and there was a slight glint in her eyes that showed him how much she'd missed his warmth. But her gaze slid directly to Kaji, who stood there like a collapsed cloud of pure embarrassment.
"It's good to see you," she whispered against Dabi's lips before pulling away a little. "But what did you tell him?"
Dabi sighed, let go of her regretfully, and leaned casually against the doorframe of the living room, nodding his chin at her son. "Well, your little angel was thinking about getting a piercing. While you're away."
Rain immediately turned around. Her eyes narrowed, not in anger but in disappointment. "Kaji..." Her voice was soft, almost cautious, which only made it worse. "I thought you could talk to me about something like that."
"I—" Kaji raised his hands as if he had to defend himself from something he could hardly grasp himself. "I said that to Dad to annoy him! I wasn't serious, just a stupid saying! But he immediately twisted it in his Dabi way and... started talking about his genital piercing!"
Rain frowned, then the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. "You told him about it?" Her look at Dabi was a mixture of amusement and quiet disbelief.
Dabi shrugged with a completely innocent expression. "He wanted to know what a Jacob's Ladder was. I explained it to him. Educationally valuable, I'd say."
"Valuable? That's trauma therapy-worthy!" Kaji groaned, slumped his shoulders, and turned around so he didn't have to look anyone in the eye. "I have images in my head now that I'll never get rid of..."
Rain pressed her hand over her mouth to suppress the laughter that was already escaping her lips, but then half-turned to Dabi. "You're impossible."
"I know." He grinned. "And yet you love me."
"To my own detriment," she murmured, approaching Kaji and placing her hands on his shoulders. "And you, Kaji. If you really want something like that, then we'll talk about it together without your father interfering."
"Too late." Kaji grumbled, but when she gently brushed his hair back from his face, a small, ashamed but genuine smile flashed across his face. "But... thank you, Mom."
"Always, my son."
Last Part <– | —
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Author's Note:
Thank you so much to everyone who followed this series.❤️
I had a lot of fun writing the story and your support motivated me to finish it. It almost pains me to end these projects, but I have other fanfiction ideas I'd like to pursue and can focus on for now.
In the next few days, I'll also be launching a poll to ask which fanfiction I should tackle next, and I hope you're as interested in it as you are in my event.
Thanks again for the great support and these exciting surveys for the chapters❤️💙🩵
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