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kiaxet · 8 months

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HOW ABOUT THAT @somerandomdudelmao DISASTER TWIN REUNION, HUH

Went a little feral to the tune of 2.2K words of self-indulgence. What else is new?

~~~~~~~

Donnie can't sleep. More accurately, he won't sleep. Not until he's done. He'd never been one to leave a project unfinished; death and resurrection hadn't changed that.

He taps incessantly, repetitively, on a keyboard and screen, the motions long since past inputting data and now only serving to keep him awake. The repetition is soothing, easy, and - counterintuitively - he finds his head drooping forward into sleep-

And he snaps back upright. No. Not until he can confirm Leo is okay.

Leo is behind him, he knows. Breathing. In bed. Asleep. Very much alive. And-

He jumps and whips around as a thud sounds behind him. "What the-"

Leo is on the floor.

Well, that answers the question as to whether his twin is awake.

For a fraction of a second, part of him wavers uncertainly. He loves his idiot twin. The question he hasn't been able to answer is whether his reaction to Leo waking up will fall on love or idiot twin-

"Leo!"

He can hear the exasperation in his voice, and yep, it's the latter. He takes a knee next to Leo and hauls him into his arms, lecturing him all the while, and if he can hear the annoyance in his voice then Leo sure as hell can. Sleep deprivation for the purposes of keeping his brother's soul alight had done nothing for his temper. "I swear to God, all you had to do was make a sound! Why are you such a difficult patient?"

He deposits Leo carefully on the bed - "Sit still!" - and checks him over, running every scan he can think of and making sure his brother's new body really is in good working order, spouting increasingly irritated commentary all the while. Of course the fall didn't hurt him - Leo is tougher than that, and Donnie does better work than that - but he still can't help the rising anxiety in his throat.

This almost didn't happen.

"-stupid, stupid selfless idiot!"

Donnie almost couldn't save him.

"Grrhh-"

Leo nearly died for real. Permanently beyond Donnie's reach. Well and truly gone-

"Do you have any idea how close you were to having nothing left to save?"

And now here Leo is, in perfect health, sitting on Donnie's bed with a big dopey grin on his face as Donnie chokes on his anxiety and damn near shakes himself apart-

Oh for fuck's sake.

"Hey. Are you even listening?"

Leo speaks up for the first time since he's woken up, voice shaky from disuse. "D-Donnie?"

And that is not a goddamn answer to anything Donnie has been saying, because of course it isn't. It's Leo. He's always had his own priorities. "Yeah. No. You're not fucking listening." Donnie heaves a long-suffering sigh, sinking back into the routine comfort that irritation at his twin provides. "At least you're talking." Small favors. "Although I'm surprised you're not throwing your stupid jokes at me." Even smaller favors.

He stops short as Leo's hand closes around his wrist, drawing Donnie's arm to Leo's plastron. "You're real," his brother breathes, looking from Donnie's hand to Donnie himself with tears streaming down his face. "You're real!"

And then, in the space of a thought, Leo's joy breaks, his smile turning desperate. "Are you?"

For a moment, Donnie stares at his twin, wondering at the sudden change in expression. He takes a breath-

And the part of him that had lain dormant for so long after he'd woken up - the part of him that had been screaming for his twin's safety ever since they'd recovered the few scattered embers of Leo's soul - gasps to life, blooming like a time-lapse video of a flower and reaching to the edges of Donnie's soul. Leo had called it their twin sense, and Donnie hadn't had it in him to argue after a while. Whatever it is, it's back, connected to Leo's renewed presence, and-

Donnie's heart floods with emotions. Relief and joy sprout quickly and are nearly swept away in a tide of exhaustionanxietyfearfearfearfearFEAR-

But down beneath it all, steady against the rising wall of terror, is the little blue spark of hope that his brother always carried. His core. The thing that let him continue on in the face of insurmountable odds, and lent that same strength to everyone around him. A ninja's greatest weapon.

It's Leo. It's Leo-

And Donnie can't leave him alone in his fear. Not when there's no need for it. Not when they're safe.

He lets that breath out, and sits next to Leo on the bed. "Mhm. I'm alive. And you're alive. We're safe. The Krang are gone." That's all the news that's fit to print, or at least the most important parts. What else does he have to say?

Oh.

"I'm sorry I..uh…"

He's sorry he what? Died? Left a mess for Leo to deal with? Didn't do enough while he was alive to keep everyone else alive in turn after he was gone? Kept his brother's soul in a fucking mug, because that was the only way he could ensure he wouldn't break it while Leo was still fragile? All of the above?

…yeah, it's all of the above.

He owes Leo one hell of an apology, and he's never been good at any of this, so instead he shrugs haplessly and leans forward, pulling Leo into his arms and hanging on tight.

It's a matter of moments before Leo has him flat on his shell on the bed and is sobbing into his arms. Normally he'd hate seeing his twin cry, but it's proof of life - proof that Leo made it, that his soul is intact enough for him to still be Leo, that he's alive and awake and here - and Donnie will take it.

And if he's squeezing Leo back pretty hard himself, well, that's fine too. Nobody else needs to know.

~~~~~~~

Donnie is yelling at him.

Donnie is strong enough to have picked Leo up off the ground, well enough to be on his feet without support, running tests and reading Leo the riot act over his latest boneheaded maneuver - in this case, forgetting he was missing an arm and falling out of bed.

Donnie is yelling at him, because Donnie is here to yell at him.

And Leo is smiling, because he couldn't be happier. He lets the words wash over him, draping over his shoulders like a favorite cozy blanket that he'd lost so many years ago, and he basks in the warmth that is his brother's voice and smiles.

It's enough to interrupt the yelling for a question, though he doesn't really hear it - just keeps smiling, and says Donnie's name, and it's so nice to be able to say it with a smile now, because Donnie is here-

-he is, right? This isn't just a dying hallucination on Leo's part, right?

(It couldn't be- he remembers his death, remembers breathing his last, remembers being trapped- but this-)

He reaches out, taking Donnie's wrist in hand, and pulls his brother closer to him. "You're…real…" It certainly feels real - skin and scales, softer than his own, and his fingers barely fit all the way around the wrist instead of encircling them with room to spare - and he stares down at it, tears rolling down his face as he finally looks back up at his twin. "You're real!"

The Krang show you what you want to see.

The thought strikes him unbidden, turning his joy and relief to ice. It's a well-known fact: a Krang infection can show its host what they want to see, visions of comfort and family and home, and extract intel from the host's reactions. He knows that- he knows that, and-

And he'd died surrounded by Krang- and even if he couldn't see or hear or feel, he knows he'd been held captive-

But it's Donnie- he wants this to be real- he needs this to be real- he wants his twin back so badly he can't think, and the idea that this could be a Krang hallucination is almost too much to bear-

"Are you?" He can hear how choked the words are as they leave his lips, but he needs to know-

And Donnie stops, and sits down next to him, and tells him everything he wants to hear - everything he could've ever wished for. They're alive. They're safe. The Krang are gone. It all sounds too good to be true.

And then Donnie offers him an apology and a sad half-smile, pulling him into a strong hug-

And the ice in Leo's mind shatters in a flood of warmth as his twin sense opens for the first time since Donnie's death. He feels his twin's irritation, and deep-seated exhaustion, and a choking wave of guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt-

And beneath it all, steady and strong as ever, the thrum of unending determination, powered by an unfathomably deep well of love. It's the backbeat to the melody of Leo's life, the point-counterpoint to his own heartbeat- it's something he'd never had to live without until he did, but it's back, rushing in to fill the silence he'd known with the strength to go on and the knowledge that he is loved loved loved, strong and overwhelming and all-encompassing in the way only Donnie can love-

It's something the Krang could never imitate.

This is real. This is all real-

He throws himself against his twin, toppling them both over on the bed as he clings to Donnie, unable to stand even a fraction of an inch of space between them, as though he could push their hearts together through their plastrons, and he cries, sobbing out worry and terror and grief and the slow, crushing exhaustion of a losing battle finally lost. He cries as though the world was ending - and it had, once when the Krang had invaded and again every time he'd lost a member of his family, over and over until he'd sent his last hope through a portal that had cost his littlest brother his life and succumbed to death himself.

And now he's alive. Here, wherever here is, with Donnie. Clinging to his twin, and being held in turn as Donnie gently sits them both up, never letting go as Leo cries himself out.

It takes a while - long enough for Leo's gaze to settle into a stare and his thoughts to settle into a comfortable static. He's alive, Donnie is alive, and he has no fucking idea what else is going on, but he's just going to be okay with that for now.

His thoughts rouse enough to inform him of something wrong - the line of tension Donnie is carrying down his neck and over his shoulders. That won't do. Leo could try to massage it out with one hand, maybe try to get Donnie to talk about it, but Donnie never likes to talk about it, and Leo isn't one for slowly soothing away tension when he can just take an axe to the release valve instead. Plus, it gives him something definite to focus on, instead of…this whole situation. Whatever 'this whole situation' actually is.

Donnie had mentioned his stupid jokes, right?

"H-hey Dee?" His voice wavers from disuse, thick with tears, but he pushes through. "Why did- why did the tree buy a camera?"

"What?" Oh, Donnie is not going to see this coming. Excellent.

"To do a photosynthesis." It's nowhere near the level of pizazz he normally uses for a punchline delivery - he's still too tired and frazzled and clinging to Donnie entirely too hard for that - but that beautiful pause of a terrible joke sinking in tells him it had hit home nonetheless. Donnie moves - he can hear the telltale slap of face meeting palm - and then breaks down into helpless laughter, smacking the back of Leo's shell as the tension Leo had felt in his twin's shoulders abruptly relaxes. Good. It worked.

"This is so fucking stupid," is all Donnie manages as his laughter fades, and he slumps fully against Leo with a murmur. That's...abrupt. Sure, Leo had felt Donnie's exhaustion, but he hadn't realized it'd been that bad. He takes hold of Donnie, gently laying him down on the bed to rest-

Remember what happened last time Donnie fell asleep next to you.

He gasps sharply at the thought - not again NEVER again - and keeps his hand steady as he moves, laying both fingers gently against Donnie's neck and feeling for his pulse. It's easy to find, strong and steady and even, like it had been before the infection had taken Donnie's vitality and then his life.

But he's alive, and healthy, and sleeping. He's okay. And Leo-

Leo moves his hand to the side of his own neck. His pulse is also easy to find, quickened with the adrenaline of an unknown situation and multiple consecutive shocks to his system.

Okay. Take stock. Assess. Figure out a plan from there.

He's alive. Donnie's alive. The Krang are gone. And everything else…is a big fat question mark, with no easy answers and no indication as to where to begin looking for them.

Well.

Uh.

"What the fuck," Leo whispers to the room at large, as though the walls could answer.

~~~~~~~

(A world away and still very close, a younger pair of twins cling to one another the way a drowning man clings to driftwood: desperately, clutching tight, as though letting go will spell their doom. Neither of them know where the emotions came from, or why; all they know is that each of them are damn glad the other is alive, and they'll do everything they can to make sure that continues to be the case.)

(What the fuck, indeed.)

#rottmnt #cass apocalyptic series #future leo #future donnie #fic #writing #cw sibling death #mention of it at least #referencing the scrapped movie storyboards because it's too good a beat to pass up #we have fun here #no gods no betas we die like NOBODY BECAUSE DONNIE FUCKING FIXED IT #I GUESS #twin sense shit is my FUCKING JAM #inexplicable mystic bonds between two halves of a whole? sign me the FUCK up #I couldn't decide whose POV to write this from so I just did both #which is WHY it's 2K+ words #it's not perfect but it's Good Enough and therefore it's getting posted #fuck it we ball

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bakubunny · 8 months

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a kindhearted hero

mdni: 18+ content. yes, i do check. you will be blocked.

a/n: here’s the full one shot of the opening excerpt i posted recently. special thanks to my lovely mutual, @shinsos-puppet/@arlerts-angel for sparking the idea. i’ve never written eijirou at length in anything, so i really hope i did our sweet, best boy justice. 💜 - bunny

pairing: pro hero!kirishima eijirou x plus size fem!reader

wc: 4.7k

summary: red riot sees you, a civilian, lookin’ cute with your friends and dynamight gets tired of hearing him gush about it. he takes matters into his own hands by being kirishima’s (asshole) wingman. kiri x reader fluff and eventual smut ensues.

tags: pro hero!kirishima; fem!reader; plus size!reader; aged up characters; fluff and smut; mention of alcohol; explicit consent; lots of pet names, pretty girl, baby, babygirl, angel, sweetheart, sweetie, princess, good girl; praise; encouragement; daddy as title (a few lines towards the end); teasing; grinding; nipple play (f receiving); fingering (f receiving); oral sex (f receiving); rough sex; multiple orgasms; pronebone; unprotected sex with a stranger (it’s not even discussed); creampie; kiri is a nervous sweetheart for the first half; kiri is taller now and has bulked tf up; kiri has a huge dick and i’m not sorry; kiri loves soft bodies, i don’t make the rules; kiri gets possessive; strength/muscle kink; manhandling; size kink if you squint a little

excerpt:

Kirishima stopped. He studied your face.

“What?” you asked.

His brow furrowed. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Huh?”

He took your face in his hands. “I’ve been telling you all night how I feel about you, but you don’t believe me.”

You gave a nervous look. He wasn’t wrong.

“Oh, you beautiful girl. I’m gonna fuck that right out of you.”

ok now buckle up buttercup and enjoy the ride. 😘

A scowling blond man walked over from a nook nearby in the club. The closer you looked, it was no less than Dynamight, the number two hero in all of Japan, dressed casually. What the heck was he doing staring you down, a civilian nobody?

“Hey, princess, y’see the guy with the shitty red hair?” he said, pointing in the direction he came from. “‘S Kirishima. He thinks you’re gorgeous, but he’s too much of a wuss to come talk to you. Will you let him buy you a drink so he’ll shut his damn mouth?”

There was only one redhead with “shitty hair” you’d ever heard of in the news in relation to Dynamight, but it couldn’t be that one, right?…

“I-I’m sorry, what?” you said.

You smiled, holding back a look of disbelief, but he must have caught it. He sighed loudly and turned to look the other way. It was dark enough that you couldn’t quite make out the man in the distance.

“Oi! Shitty hair! Get’cher ass over here, she’s not buyin’ it,” he shouted with an irritated look.

A tall, broad-shouldered redhead got up and began moving towards your table, head tucked down and rubbing his neck. He looked up and met your eyes, smiling with cheeks almost as red as his hair. It was that redhead - Red Riot, to be exact. Your eyes went wide and your face flushed.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I think you’re at the wrong table,” you said, flustered.

This has to be a joke, right? He can’t be serious. There’s no way someone like him could be interested in you. You’d heard and seen in interviews that Dynamight wasn’t exactly nice, but he wouldn’t pull some sort of childish stunt like this as an adult, would he? As a pro hero?

“No, I’m not at the wrong fucking table,” he sneered, crossing his arms.

Red Riot approached the both of you. “Sorry about him, he can be a bit of an ass. I don’t-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m doing you a favor,” Dynamight said, cutting him off. He turned to you. “This is my friend Kirishima, also known as Red Riot. You should give him a chance.”

Dynamight turned back to Kirishima. “You’re fucking welcome. Play nice,” he said, giving him a clap on the shoulder before walking away.

You both froze awkwardly for a moment before breaking into quiet laughter. He looked you in the eye with a smile.

“I uh…. I hope that’s okay, though,” he said nervously. “You’re absolutely stunning. I’d love to buy you a drink.”

You blushed, smiling in return. “I’d like that a lot.”

You glanced to the two friends you came with that night for approval. The look they had was what you’d expected; one that said, “Are you crazy?? Go!” but they grinned nonetheless as you stood from the seat you were at.

******

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the dimness of the atmosphere. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard for this guy. But you’d swear Kirishima looked even prettier in real life than anything you’d ever seen or imagined. Shaggy hair, clean and pulled back into a messy bun instead of his signature spiked style, stray pieces falling around his face at the front. Crimson eyes that were bright with joy and crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Slightly tanned skin from spending almost a decade on the field as a pro hero. Laugh lines that had barely begun to settle in from sun exposure and his brilliant, sharp toothed smile that rarely seemed to fade. Though it was only the two of you in your little corner, he had the ability to light up a room just by being there.

And it was hard to believe that he was here, sitting knee to knee with you. Showering you with compliments. Listening intently as he learned the details of your civilian life. Asking questions about your pets, excitedly gushing over pictures, and showing interest in your career. Brushing his thigh against yours. Leaning in to hear what you had to say. Turning faintly pink when you grasped his hand with a laugh before quickly pulling away with a blush of your own. Reaching for your hand and holding it under the table…. Yours was small in his massive hand, and despite being well used and calloused, they were still so soft. (He claimed his friend Ashido once told him he “needed to moisturize his scratchy skin,” and found that it helped him heal, so he stuck with it.)

Kirishima had this innate way of making you feel protected, and you’re pretty sure it had nothing to do with his hero status. All while making the apex of your thighs hot and your cheeks warm.

Okay, so you had to admit, you’d secretly had a little bit of a crush on Red Riot - now Kiri, he’d insisted - before you met him tonight. He was handsome, strong, kind, and humble in any media you’d ever seen him in. Who could blame you for swooning a little inside every time you saw him? (No one. That’s who.) The best part was that none of it was fake. He was honest, sincere, and you could see it in his eyes.

Minutes turned into hours. You’d both switched to drinking water long ago. The number of people in the club had started to dwindle. Yet you were still wrapped up in conversation.

He’d assured your friends that you’d get home safely - a hero’s promise - when they stopped by to say they were heading out. Gave Bakugou (was that what Kiri called him?) a smile and nod of acknowledgement as he and a few other hero faces you recognized from the media moved towards the door. The hero with pink skin and a brightly colored dress gave an excited wave goodbye as they passed. Come to think of it, you were surprised he wasn’t with her, another hero. A pretty hero. But you noticed Bakugou’s hand guiding her by the small of her back, keeping her close as they worked their way through the crowd. You shoved those thoughts down as Kirishima gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Listen, I know it’s getting late, but I don’t want this to end,” Kirishima said. “I promised I would get you home safely, and I’ll do that. Buuuut if you want, we can go back to my place and watch a movie.”

He caught the flicker of hesitation on your face, silently wondering if this had been his goal all along, but not opposed to the idea.

His face grew red, eyes wide at what he might be suggesting. “I did mean just a movie! You’re really beautiful and nice to talk to, that’s all I meant. I’m not looking for a fling. Please, don’t get the wrong impression,” he rambled quickly. “B-but I do want that with you! I want you, I just-”

“Kiri. Slow down. It’s okay.” You gave a reassuring smile.

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he smiled as he tucked his head, rubbing his neck. You noticed the way his nervous habit highlighted his massive bicep and shoulder.

“I think that sounds great. I’d love to spend more time with you… no matter what that looks like,” you said, heat rushing to your face as you caught his glance again.

His eyes held a glimmer of hope as he looked down at you. “Really?”

“As long as you can promise me I’ll get a proper date someday soon,” you replied.

“You got it, pretty girl. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, grinning.

There was a shift in the silence you shared. Kirishima hesitated, a question in his eyes.

“Can I?…”

“Yes.”

His free hand reached for your face and pulled you in eagerly for a kiss, full of heat and tenderness as your lips met. It knocked the air out of you as your fingers tightened around the hand entwined in your own beneath the table. It was gentle, slow, his thumb stroking your cheek for a moment. Heat built rapidly between your legs, almost throbbing at his touch.

When the kiss broke, you stared into those gorgeous red eyes knowing you were absolutely fucked. This man had you, and there was no way you’d let him go.

******

The door closed with a soft click as you slipped off your shoes. You turned to Kirishima and realized that he was bigger than you’d thought in dim lighting. He was taller, broader, bulkier than the image you’d had in your head.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he repeated.

A shared laugh broke the tension. Kirishima reached for your face with both hands and leaned in to kiss you, pulling the breath right out of your chest again. It was all consuming, the way his hands cradled your face, fingers already tangling in the hair around your neck. His kisses were warm and sweet.

“Come here,” he whispered as he lifted you into his arms.

You let out a small yelp as he did, wrapping yourself around him more to keep from falling than anything else. “What are you doing?”

Kirishima flashed a cheeky grin. “Unless you want me to stop, I’m doing what I want,” he replied, leaning in for another kiss.

It was visceral, how quickly embarrassment and fear flooded your face with heat as you reciprocated. “Y-you don’t - I’m too-”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t even say it.” Kirishima had a sharp look in his eyes.

“But-” you protested.

“Baby, I train six days a week. I save people for a living. I can carry you,” he said, unwavering, a soft smile forming across his lips.

A flash of warmth hit your cheeks again. You buried your face in his shoulder as it hit you just how strong he was. Kirishima chuckled and turned to walk towards what you presumed was his bedroom. His lips met your skin, placing kisses along the side of your neck. You whimpered softly as a shiver slipped down your neck.

“C’mon now, don’t get shy on me,” he teased. “Haven’t even started.”

“Shush you,” you replied.

Every bit of you was growing hotter by the second with Kirishima’s hands on your body and his lips, fucking hell, how did you already feel a little weak? He laid you down on his bed as he leaned back onto his knees. Reverent crimson eyes raked over you in a short sundress, barely riding up to reveal the tops of your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he said quietly.

You blushed and gave him a smile.

There was a twinge in your stomach. A thread of doubt. One that said, “but I still have clothes on.” You pushed it down.

You pulled Kirishima closer as he drew you in with firm kisses and a gentle suck on your bottom lip. With your legs wrapped around his middle, your hands wandering over his back and shoulders, you were still in disbelief that this was happening. His hand ran down your side as he moaned deeply, gripping the soft flesh of your hip. His lips grew needy as they moved down your neck, finding a spot that made you pant as your head spun.

A groan rumbled in his chest, sending chills over your skin as his hips pushed into yours; your eyes snapped open, your throat caught. Kirishima rolled his body into you again and holy fuck he was huge. You let out a high pitched whine rather than the moan you anticipated. There’s no fucking way this man is real, you thought as he continued, pulling soft moans from your lips. You cursed under your breath.

“Hmm?” he said with a tone that suggested he already knew.

“Jus’ feels good,” you replied.

Kirishima kissed his way back to your lips as he pushed harder into you, a louder moan bubbling out of you as your cunt fluttered under the thin panties you wore and the heat of his cock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Y’so big, Kiri,” you said between kisses.

He paused to look you in the eye. “‘S that okay? Won’t hurt my feelings if you say no, honest. I don’t want you t’be scared.”

“More than okay,” you replied, heat rising to your cheeks. “I like it a lot. ‘S what I was kinda hoping for.”

Kirishima's eyes lit up with a flicker of relief as though you’d sung a tune he’d rarely heard. He kissed you hard. “Fuck, you’re just perfect, aren’t you, angel?”

Another thread tugged at your chest. “He’s saying that to sleep with me.”

You smiled playfully. It didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I dunno about perfect, but that’s very sweet of you.”

Kirishima stopped. He studied your face.

“What?” you asked.

His brow furrowed. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Huh?”

He took your face in his hands. “I’ve been telling you all night how I feel about you, but you don’t believe me.”

You gave a nervous look. He wasn’t wrong.

“Oh, you beautiful girl. I’m gonna fuck that right out of you,” he said.

Kirishima crashed his lips into yours, drawing a whimper from your lips. His mouth didn’t leave you for a second as he picked up where you left off, kissing down over your neck and chest, his hands on your ass. He slid your dress up and groaned at the sight.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking soft,” he said, kisses trailing over your stomach. “So pretty. So perfect.”

The heat of his massive hands washed over you as they wandered your body. Kirishima’s fingers dug gently into your flesh. Clothes rapidly began piling onto the floor; his shirt, your dress, his pants, your bra. His hands immediately went for your chest where he scattered kisses on your skin as he groped, moaning softly when his lips took your nipple into his mouth. Your breath grew heavy. You moaned in return as he sucked and licked the swollen bud. The hot ache between your thighs built as he took his time with each one, only encouraged by your whimpering and the way your hips bucked with need. You felt a rush of sensations as Kirishima began grinding his cock into your leg, an empty flutter and a shiver sliding over you. You reached down to relieve your throbbing clit, but he grabbed your wrist.

“Patient girls get what they want. ‘M not done,” he mumbled.

And fuck if that didn’t just make you ache even more. “Kiri, please.…”

Letting go, his hand slid down over your cunt. He gently rubbed and groaned against your skin when your hips pushed into his hand.

“‘S it, pretty girl, show me what you need,” he said.

And you did, moaning and grinding into him. After making quick work of discarding the last of both your clothes, Kirishima opened your legs and cursed. He ran his hands up your thighs, lips not far behind.

Insecurity began to slip away as you saw Kirishima’s cock twitch as it hung, swollen, hard and red at the sight of you. All of him made you hotter - the look in his eye, broad shoulders and thick arms you had been imagining around your legs all night, strong thighs you wished were caging you at the hips, and a heavy cock that had to be as big as your face, so thick you didn’t think you could wrap your hand around it. He was so kind. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, like you’d hung the stars just for him. And he going to fuck you dumb.

A shiver ran down your spine and you blushed.

“You’re amazing,” Kirishima said.

You thought to respond as his mouth reached your inner thigh and you gasped. He slid a thick finger into your cunt and pumped slowly. Already, you could feel yourself fluttering and weeping around his hand as you moaned. He slipped a second finger in, slightly curled and reaching a tender spot you couldn’t quite get on your own.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, angel. Don’t stop, I wanna hear your pretty voice,” he said.

Heat rolled over your body. Kirishima sloppily kissed his way around your pussy, never settling where you wanted him.

“Kiri… need you.”

“Yeah? Whatcha need?” he replied with a little smirk.

Your head fell back, letting out a small groan in frustration as he teased.

“Eyes on me,” Kirishima said.

Heat rushed to your face. You locked eyes with him and reached for his head with a soft “please,” guiding him to your clit. He kissed and licked gently, taking it into his mouth. It didn’t take long for intense pleasure to fall over your body. You grabbed hold of his free hand resting on your stomach as the tension in your body built, legs starting to shake.

Kirishima hummed with satisfaction. “Such a sweetheart. C’mon babygirl, you can do it. Jus’ let go. ‘M right here.”

The skill of his mouth pushed you over the edge. His lust-hooded eyes stared into yours as your climax broke with a whining moan. You trembled as it washed over you. He carried you through with his tongue, treating your cunt with care until your body calmed.

“Good girl,” he said.

Your eyes went wide briefly and he smirked. “You like hearing that?”

“Didn’t expect it,” you said.

“Not what I asked.” Kirishima took his hand from you and stroked his cock, covering himself in your cum.

You weren’t sure how, but the tables had turned; now you were the one who was easily flustered while he had every ounce of confidence and a twinkle in his eye.

“Maybe I did a little, yeah,” you said.

“Good. Now tell me, pretty girl, how do you like to be fucked?” he said.

You grabbed a pillow and laid on your stomach with it under your hips and gave your ass a little shake, smiling back at him. “Like this. Come get it.”

“You’re not gonna let me stare into those gorgeous eyes of yours?” he said playfully, lining himself up behind you, rubbing the head of his cock along your folds.

“Maybe next time I’ll ride you. How’s that?” you quipped, peeking his face for a moment as he huffed a laugh and turned pink.

“Y’ready baby? Might hurt but I promise I’ll be gentle.” The heat and thickness of his cock head had you pushing into him as he teased.

“Yes. I can take it, please,” you said.

“You sure? You sound so pretty like this…” he purred.

You blushed. The sound of your wet cunt was obscene and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“We can take it easy… go real slow…” he insisted.

“Kiri I swear if you don’t-ohfuckohfuck”

He was already halfway in, pushing deeper as you panted heavily and groaned. Kirishima looked down at you and saw your eyes roll, face laid into the sheets. He pushed himself in fully and you gasped. The slight sting didn’t matter in comparison to the pleasure, goosebumps covering your body.

“Fucking hell Kiri you’re huge and perfect holyshitfucknnngh.”

“Need me to stop already?” His lightly patronizing tone would have been irksome if it weren’t for the fact that you were split wide open and full to the brim with his cock, your pussy clenching hard as he stayed still.

You whipped your head around as far as you could. “Don’t you fucking dare,” you said. It was meant to sound threatening in the same way he had earlier, but it came out desperate and needy. You swallowed hard. “Please.”

You caught him grinning ear to ear as slowly, gently, he started fucking you in long strokes, your moans quickly filling the room. You grabbed another pillow in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. The intensity of the pleasure was overwhelming as your cunt stretched and the sting subsided into bliss.

Kirishima’s hands ran over your ass and up your body as he fucked you, relishing the way your ass moved with him, the way your cunt drew him all the way in over and over as you got wetter. “Fuck you feel so good, angel. Can’t get enough of you. Love watching you take my cock so well. Such a perfect little pussy.”

“Kiri…” you whined, “‘s so good, so fucking good, ‘s perfect.”

Your thoughts were jumbled with the way he had you unraveling with each tender stroke - just enough to feel his hips kissing yours as he pulled you up and into him slightly. The pressure of each thrust against your cunt made you flutter.

“‘N don’t stop after I cum. I can take it,” you said.

You heard a shy laugh behind you. “You like my cock that much, hm?” Kirishima said, leaning down briefly to kiss across your shoulder.

“I do. Y’so fucking big. Feels so good, Kiri. Need you inside me.” Chills ran through you as he hit that deep, sensitive spot behind your cervix that made your feet tingle and your breath stop, orgasm hanging overhead.

“F-fuck, b-baby, right there, don’t stop,” you said. Your mind fell into an empty haze as your legs began to tremble. “I think ‘m c-close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, princess? Gonna cum on my cock without any help?” he replied.

Your answer was in moans as your back arched and your vision went white. The heat of his hands, his grip tightening on your hips, his encouragement had bliss crashing down over you.

“‘S it, that’s what I like to hear. Let it all out. Cum for me, sweetheart. Make a pretty mess on my cock.” Kirishima moaned as he felt you clench hard around him, watching you come undone for a second time. It was dizzying holding himself back, your cunt like a vice he never wanted to leave. His hips stuttered for a moment, but he continued with a low grunt.

“Such a good girl…” Kirishima said, lacing your skin with kisses as his pace increased.

Your head was spinning with pleasure, sensations radiating up your spine, curling down your legs, trying to process his words fully and failing. “Yes, harder. Fuck me. Please, Kiri… please. Need your cock.”

He groaned. “Y’make it so hard not t’cum with you. Y’know that, angel?” Kirishima grabbed a large fistful of hair at the scalp and pulled gently, lifting your face away from anything that could muffle your moans as his hips collided harder into you, sending electricity over your skin as you panted and let out a cry. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. So soft. So beautiful, every part of you. Y’sound so fucking pretty. Y’feel so damn good, I almost couldn’t stop myself.”

His quiet praise hit you hard and unexpectedly - a wave of heat and tension building in your body, amplified by the grip he had on your hair. The previous one had felt like it hardly passed, but another orgasm was winding itself around your core in anticipation.

“Oh fuck, ‘m sorry, I…mmm.” Your knuckles went white gripping the pillow under your head.

“Hey, hey, no sorry,” he said, his grip falling loose and moving to your side. He could feel how close you were getting with every passing movement, willing his body to hold off once more. “I love it. Y’need to cum again, sweetie?”

“Please,” you replied.

You made movement to reach for your clit a second time, but Kirishima’s hand was quick and found its way there first.

“Nuh uh. ‘M gonna make you cum, baby. You just relax. Can y’do that for me?” he said.

“Mhm.” You nodded dumbly, giving in to his request.

Kirishima’s thick fingertips gently rubbed your swollen clit, a whimper at your throat. Goosebumps trailed across your body as pulled you closer, closer, and over the edge as he fucked you. The lewd sound of your cunt as you came on him drove Kirishima crazy, sweat running down his body. He was drunk on your pussy, fucking you still when sensitivity finally hit.

It was overwhelming but not enough all at once, the feeling of his cock bullying your swollen folds. You reached back to stop him, but he grabbed your wrist, looming over you to put it back where it was.

“Kiri, ‘s too much, please,” you said.

“You can take it, babygirl. Just one more for me, yeah? I know you can do it.” Kirishima’s voice was a mixture of sweet and ragged.

You groaned heavily. “One more,” you repeated. “But c’mere, closer.”

He wrapped himself around you, arms sliding under yours, the burning heat and weight of his body against your back. “Like this?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whined.

You could feel sweat on his chest, the movement of each thrust as he started again, every groan, drunk on the girth and heft of his cock slamming into you, his heavy balls hitting your clit.

Your body began to tremble. “Need t’feel you on me, don’ go, please.”

“Aww, y’really are a little sweetheart, huh?” Kirishima cooed. “Just love bein all wrapped up n safe in my arms while I take care of your pretty pussy.”

“Yes, d-mmmfuck.” You cut yourself off and hid your face.

“‘S okay, angel. You can say it if y’want,” he said gently. “Doesn’ bother me.”

“I can’t,” you said, your cheeks hot.

His voice lowered. “Yes you can. Lemme hear it. Say yes, daddy.”

“Yes, daddy,” you replied weakly.

Kirishima’s thrusts got sloppier as hot, wet kisses hit a tender spot on the crook of your neck. You grabbed and kissed his hand and pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts. He growled into your skin.

“‘S it, baby. That’s my girl. That’s my good fucking girl. My pretty little angel. Take my fucking cock,” he said softly, his breath hot against your ear.

“D-don’ say that,” you slurred, knowing full well that he could hear the way you whimpered and moaned when he did. Knowing he could feel you fluttering erratically around him.

“Why not, hmm?” Kirishima replied. “Y’really think ’m gonna let a pretty little thing like you get away after tonight, lookin’ so perfect, cummin’ all over my cock like this? Beggin’ me not to stop cause y’need more? Bein’ so sweet n lovely that I can’t help but fuck you ‘til you fall apart? ‘Til you know I mean what I say?”

Words failed you as he fucked harder, movements sharper as his orgasm neared. Your head fell forward into the sheets with a loud moan. “N-no.”

“‘S right, princess. ‘M not. ‘M gonna keep you ‘s long ‘s you’ll have me.” Kirishima’s muscles burned from exertion as he spoke, but he didn’t care.

He loved the way your breath went quick and shallow when he found just the right spot that made you tremble, savored the way your moans grew louder and your eyes rolled the harder he went. He got lost in the heat of your breath and the taste of your skin, the perfect way he could rail into you without being gentle or holding back because you needed every bit of him. It made his skin hot, the absolute mess you were making around his cock, fluttering and squeezing him hard enough to lose his damn mind as he moaned into your ear, his grip around your body getting tighter.

“Don’ stop, daddy, please. ‘M close,” you said. It was intoxicating, the way his skin felt against yours, the way each thrust knocked a little bit of the breath out of your lungs as another orgasm drew near. “Cum with me?”

“‘S that what you want, angel? Want me t’cum inside you?” he asked.

“Please, wanna feel you cum,” you said.

Kirishima groaned low in his chest as his need for you took over. His lips and teeth continued to graze your skin with open mouthed kisses as he came, his throbbing cock pushing you over the edge a final time as he fucked you full of cum. You laid together panting until silence took hold.

After a quiet moment, Kirishima pulled out and spread your ass gently, watching his cum trickle down your swollen pussy and thick, soft thighs.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

mdni banner created by the lovely @cafekitsune.

manga color edit is mine @bakubunny.

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shatterspin · 12 days

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Dragons rising s2 concept art

#words cannot describe how i feel that nya was supposed to get a mech and the scrapped that #literally why…#her mech with a tail.. 😭😭 ROBBED!!!#ninjago #ninjago spoilers #?

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ariadne-mouse · 8 months

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Heartbreaking: local writer realizes they need to reread their own work to avoid continuity errors

#op #writing #it's me #not actually heartbreaking in that i enjoy my own works #but I did write a couple hundred words I realized almost immediately after that i would have to scrap

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ride-a-dromedary · 5 months

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Oh, my friends, don't ask me what your sacrifice was for.

There is a burden to being the survivor.

The witness to other's tragedies.

It only grows heavier with time.

#i will actually make a pretentious ass gifset thank you who's stopping me give me one good reason #Baldur's Gate 3 #bg3edit #gamingedit #bg3 spoilers #Halsin #otheredits #my stuff #this is for @roofgeese who annihilated me the other day #i have a whole ramble rant about halsin's being a survivor and carrying that guilt is enough of a compelling story in itself #without scrapped EA content - because this is guilt that *never goes away* even when perhaps the root is solved #but i will hold my tongue and sit in my corner because the parallel of this song with halsin #destroyed me even more than the impossible dream alignment did #i mean 'and i can hear them now/the very words that they had sung/became their last communion' *twitches*#'their screams...it's all i can hear'#halsin lost *everyone* important to him

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bisonandbubbles · 1 year

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Hanamaki, out of nowhere in a conversation: I wonder what I taste like

*intense eye contact with Matsukawa, fellow unhinged person*

Hanamaki, thinking: going to say “I can help with that?”, you are, right, I wonder what your follow up thought would be–

Matsukawa, casually: sorry, I don't eat human flesh

Hanamaki: omg

#dodged that bullet #matsuhana #hanamatsu #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#incorrect haikyuu quotes #haikyuu incorrect quotes #hq!!#friend convo #scraps of words

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zukkaoru · 1 year

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My ninth grade English teacher walks us through the prologue of Romeo & Juliet, explaining how it serves as a synopsis of the play, and how it spoils the ending. Here are our characters, here is where they live, here is why their love is forbidden. You will spend the next two hours learning to love them only for their blood to spill across the stage. This is the only ending they were ever meant for.

There is no universe in which Romeo & Juliet can survive.

jujutsu kaisen, gege akutami || a collection of tragedies, zukkaoru (march 15, 2023)

[id in alt text]

#jjk #itafushi #fun fact! this is from a scrapped essay i wrote for my cnf class #i had to scrap it bc it was never going to be under 750 words and this is a flash cnf class :/ but maybe someday i'll expand / finish it #anyway. lol #when site19-deactivated20210811 said life gets better don't get into jujutsu kaisen they were really onto something #jjk spoilers #jjk 219 #i should be doing homework and instead i spent like an hour putting this together. and now i need to leave for class #:P #hello grace here

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severants · 3 months

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Two axis I did in different strokes, I streamed myself drawing the first, shout out to iz and zed 4 being in vc /w me hi

you can tell one of them is better than the other, the blue on is my magna opus. (? I can’t spell)

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transmascpetewentz · 5 months

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#wentz.txt #polls #fallout new vegas #mine is mad about the boy #fun fact: mad abt the boy was one of the first recorded uses of the word 'gay' meaning homosexual #(the scrapped second verse written by noel coward)#there is a recording of him singing it #fallout #fnv

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cuubism · 1 year

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Joy

Dreamling | T rating | Retired Dream | on emotional repression

I was thinking about a post, which I cannot find alas, about retired Morpheus struggling to deal with the fact that his actions and emotions don't have universe-wide consequences anymore. Like, he's allowed to just feel things now? And as someone who's also been extremely checked out of their own emotions at various points I can tell you the transition is… not easy. Anyways.

Morpheus is out when Hob gets home, or so he assumes. When he steps into the hall, the flat has the utterly still quality of total vacancy, no noise or distant movement. For all that Morpheus is a relatively quiet person, generally speaking, Hob has still become attuned to what his presence feels like, or the lack thereof.

Or so he thought.

For when he reaches the kitchen, Morpheus is there, sitting at the kitchen table, completely still. Hob almost doesn't see him, that's how still he is. Back straight, hands folded on the table, looking down at them as if he's meditating, or working out some complicated problem in his head.

Hob quietly sets down his bag and sits across from him. “Hey... love? You okay?”

He almost whispers it so as not to break the silence. Normally Hob would leave him to his devices if he was in the middle of something, but despite the fact that Morpheus is not given to unnecessary movement, the complete stillness sends something uncomfortable creeping up Hob’s spine. Morpheus hadn't even seemed to hear him come in.

With glacial slowness, Morpheus nods.

“It’s just…” Hob continues, biting his lip. “You’re not moving. At all. I almost didn’t think you were breathing.”

“That is the idea,” Morpheus agrees, still looking at his hands.

"Not breathing?"

"Not moving."

"Can I ask why?"

"I am. Preoccupied. With." His fingers flex against each other on the table as if forcing stillness. "Movement within."

Hob doesn't know what that means. "Can you elaborate?"

"I must make it still," Morpheus says. "I have before. I will."

Which clears up nothing. And Hob is getting the increasing sense that something is wrong but he's floundering as to what.

"Will you come sit on the couch with me?" he finally asks. "You look like you're about to snap in half."

"If it will please you," Morpheus says. Like his own pleasure-or-not in this matter is something he'd prefer not to touch.

"It will," Hob says. Morpheus follows him to the couch, moving like– like he did before. That ethereal creature that considered every step like he was crossing a thinly frozen lake.

So that's what it is.

Morpheus sits down beside him, drawing his knees up to his chest in a movement that, Hob is almost relieved to observe, is very much not like before.

Hob drapes the blanket from the back of the couch over his shoulders. Morpheus flinches, but doesn't push it off. "What's going on, hon?"

"It is..." Morpheus admits, slowly, "loud."

Hob frowns. "In your head? I thought you said it's been quieter since–"

"No." Morpheus presses a hand to his sternum. "Here."

Hob touches his chest, carefully, hand resting beside Morpheus's. All he can hear, or rather feel, is Morpheus's heartbeat, still a new and learning thing. "Your heart?"

"Everything. It... resounds. And drives off reason."

"Okay." Hob rubs his hand up and down over his chest, as if that might soothe him. Hob is aware enough of the feeling of overwhelm, and of Morpheus's particular brand of it, now that he has so little to distract him. "Just give it time and it'll pass, love."

Morpheus shakes his head. "That is not–" his lips press into a distressed line. "Duration is. Not the issue. It is. What will be left. After. Detritus."

Hob's own heart clenches. "Your feelings aren't a storm, love."

"Are they not?"

"You aren't going to make storms in the Dreaming, now," Hob says, though he knows Morpheus knows this.

"I speak not of weather, Hob Gadling," Morpheus growls. "I can– raze minds, I can spin balanced consciousness into euphoria, I can twist it all on its head with no effort and I will–" his fingertips dig into his chest, and Hob thinks that if he were still capable of manifesting claws he'd be drawing blood even through his shirt– "I will make it stop. It will be quiet again, I swear it."

"Only thing you're spinning is yourself," Hob says, gently.

And the thing is, he knows Morpheus knows this. Knowledge isn't the issue. It's sort of like how he never quite believes that Hob will never want to die, no matter how many times Hob tells him. I know that, Hob Gadling, he will say, but Hob can never quite get him to feel it.

"I know that, Hob Gadling," he says, again, now. That same tone. How dare you not believe it. How dare.

"Give me your hand," Hob says.

"Hob–"

Hob takes his hand and pulls it to himself, pressing Morpheus's palm flat to his own chest. Morpheus makes as if to pull away, then surrenders.

"Look," Hob says. "It's not hurting me, is it?"

"No," Morpheus admits, reluctantly, still with that tension through his shoulders.

"What about the room? Is everything shaking into pieces? Is it all going haywire? People rioting in the streets?"

Morpheus shakes his head no.

"See?" Hob says, squeezing his hand. "It's alright."

"I want it quiet," Morpheus says. He no longer sounds frustrated. More defeated. "It should not be... here." He touches his breastbone. "Here." His throat. "Here." His head.

"Where's it supposed to be, then?"

"Gone."

Hob sighs. This will not be an easy fix, not at all. He leans in, awkward though the angle is, and kisses Morpheus's chest, his neck, his temple, then stays, leaning against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, love. I know it's not easy. I happen to like you not gone, though, for what it's worth."

"Me?"

"Uh-huh. You. That's you in there, you know, not some brain-eating amoeba."

He gets a tiny huff of an almost-laugh from Morpheus. "Is it?"

"Yup. The part you weren't allowed to see because everything else was so loud." He rubs Morpheus's chest again, where he keeps saying it's hurting.

Morpheus's mouth opens as if to protest, and Hob adds–

"I'm not going to criticize you for it, okay? I promise I'm not."

Hob gets it. Well. He can't get it, actually, he's never been in charge of the entire dreaming world, but he tries.

"I thought you were supposed to go out today?" he says. "Weren't you getting tea with Rose? What happened with that? You were looking forward to it, I thought."

"I was, yes." He says it as if this is bad somehow. "Looking forward to it, that is. Her company is... enjoyable.”

“Okay? That's good, right?"

But Morpheus shakes his head. "It is too much."

"Too much?" Hob asks. "Were you nervous about it?"

Again, Morpheus shakes his head. “Joyful.”

Hob's heart is actually going to break. He knows this is part of why Morpheus left in the first place. And yet it's still tormenting him, which feels criminally unfair. And the worst part is there's no one to really blame, he knows why Morpheus did it, he can't and won't fault him for it when he was put in such a position.

He asks quietly, “So that joy didn't feel good to you?”

Morpheus shakes his head, biting down hard on his lip, and then, to Hob's horror, bursts into tears.

For all that Morpheus is prone to drama and moping, Hob has never actually seen him cry. He hadn't cried when he’d told Hob of his imprisonment, offering only a hint of scorched anger to indicate how he felt about it, the words, I had not realized what it was to be isolated and embodied until then. It was agonizing, said with the even cadence of the moon in orbit instead of the rawness they deserved. Nor had he cried when he'd shown up on Hob's doorstep and, when greeted with a concerned Hey, Dream, are you okay? – because he certainly didn't look it, drenched to the bone and his cloak absent its swirling inner cosmos – answered merely, You should call me Morpheus, I am no longer Dream of the Endless. The closest Hob had ever seen was the glimmer in his eyes when he'd thought Hob no longer wished to live, all the way back in the 1600s, and even then, his tears had not fallen.

“Oh, darling.” Hob pulls him into his arms, rubbing his back. “It’s alright.”

“It does not feel,” Morpheus continues, voice remarkably steady given the tears streaming down his cheeks, “good. It feels loud. And I am not in control, I am subject to these whims and I am no subject, Hob.”

"Those feelings are part of you. Not subjecting.”

“I don’t want it,” Morpheus insists, with the bitter frustration of a former king, used to shaping the world around him as he wishes. “If they are free I do not know what might come out.”

What comes out are parts of you, Hob thinks, but doesn’t express it again. The raw parts that you think are so awful. “Well, if there’s any feeling to try it with, wouldn’t it be joy? Happiness?”

Morpheus huffs. "Do you think that sorrow and rage are the only feelings with the capacity to destroy? Joy can become hysteria, joy can ruin, I have seen it, I have done it, when I was much, much younger and did not understand my abilities. Strong feelings have power, the very Dreaming is crafted of them. It could not exist out of apathy.”

“Neither could you,” Hob points out, and Morpheus just huffs again, shaking his head.

“I thought that if I relinquished my responsibilities, I would no longer have to worry so about everything outside of myself,” Morpheus says. “And how it entangles with me. Only now. It is still there, but I can do nothing to stop it.”

“But listen, darling.” Hob squeezes his hand. “You’re allowed to be tangled up with everything, now. You’re supposed to be.” He twists their fingers together. “I want you tangled up.”

“I will— without access to my realm I will step wrong, and—”

“And you can fix it,” Hob says. “Promise. No rebuilding a whole universe required.”

Morpheus sniffles, and Hob wipes the tears from his cheeks. “You always kept yourself above it all, didn’t you?”

“It is my responsibility to keep the collective unconscious in balance,” Morpheus says. He hasn’t quite stopped talking about his responsibilities in the present tense — Hob thinks it will be a while before he fully internalizes the lack of that weight. “Not to sway it to my feelings. Historically, when I have involved myself, it has… not gone well.”

“It doesn’t always as a human, either,” Hob says, and Morpheus’s frown deepens. “I mean, we’re all just bumping up against each other, you know? But you’re allowed to have space there, even if it doesn’t always go right.”

“If you mean this to be very comforting, I will have to disappoint you,” says Morpheus, but there’s more humor in it now, and he’s stopped crying. He pushes his head into Hob’s shoulder, and Hob wraps his arms around him tighter, holds him close.

“I wish it could all be immediately easy for you,” Hob says. “I’d do anything to make it so.”

“I did not expect this to be easy,” Morpheus says, voice rumbling into Hob’s chest. “But the challenges have repeatedly come from unforeseen directions.”

Hob kisses the side of his head. “I’m glad you’ve stuck with me anyway.”

“You have been very patient with my… meandering attempts at basic humanity.”

“Always will. I love you.”

It’s another thing he’s struggled to get Morpheus to truly accept, that Hob’s care for him was never contingent on any of his abilities or powers. That Hob won’t be scared away no matter his mistakes, because Hob has faced a lot of terrifying things in his life and the worst is the prospect of losing Morpheus entirely.

This time, Morpheus doesn’t reject it. He just hums and lets Hob pet his hair, lets Hob keep him and quiet him towards ease, which Hob intends to do until Morpheus can find it himself, and then after, too.

And several weeks later, when Morpheus comes home from the park with a colored pencil drawing Jed made for him, smiling and holding it to his chest with real joy in his eyes, Hob shines with pride, and the part of his heart that might have broken just a bit listening to Morpheus cry that day heals over again.

#how many goddamn fics is it acceptable to post in one day #this is technically the third #truly i wish i could finish and post things on a regular schedule instead of not posting for 2 months then finishing 80 things in one day #but alas #anyway #this has been lingering for months near finished but unsatisfying. finally scrapped 1000 words of the ending and just redid it #WORKING THROUGH SOME STUFF HERE PERHAPS #dreamling #dreamling fic #hob gadling #dream of the endless #my writing #retired dream #let dream be happy 2kforever

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