#Dreamling Fanfic

[elahogn]

✨ Dreamling Acts of service ✨

Inspired by @hardly-an-escape​ writing cuz i’m absolutely smitten, go read it right here

buy me a kofi if you think i’m worth it 

[disc0bandit]

everyone go read the fic where dream keeps getting summoned into hob's living room cuz he has a vial of his sand there

[thebitchesterbrothers]

Dream of the Endless is the prince of a small but wealthy and beautiful country. He’s not the oldest child so the crown will go to his oldest sister Death when his parents are going to die or abdicate one day.

He’s not important enough to rule one day but still too known to live an ordinary life. He grew up sheltered in a golden cage with certain expectations from his parents to live by. So he’s not surprised when one day his parents invite possible suitors for a lucrative wedding.

From Dreams perspective they leave him no choice but to flee from his own birthday party where he’s supposed to be sold off to the highest bidder.

And while his furious parents are busy firing his bodyguards Dream wanders through parts of the capital he’s never seen before.

He’s so high on the feeling of finally feeling free and unobserved for the first time in his entire life that he doesn’t pay close attention to his surroundings when he turns the corner.

Stumbling right into the arms of Hob Gadling.

Hob, who had spent the last ten years traveling and living abroad before returning home to finally settle down, maybe start a family of his own.

Hob, who never really kept track of the drama and scandals of the royal family.

Who doesn’t know that the beautiful - but slightly socially awkward and uptight - man in his arms is the most desired bachelor of his native country. And his prince.

But what he knows is that love at first sight most definitely exists because there’s no way in hell he won’t marry this dream of a man.

Needless to say that Dream spends the next week in Hobs tiny and barely renovated flat above the Inn Hob had recently bought. Half of that time he spends in Hobs embrace, the other half in his lap. Dream refuses to let his new love out of sight, clings to him, afraid Hob might find out about his family heritage and will try to get rid of him, trying not to get in trouble for hiding - and deflowering - the prince.

But eventually, on the eighth day Dream confesses he’s the prince everyone is so desperately looking for. The prince who’s supposed to be married off to a proper and, most importantly, rich spouse.

So on the ninth day Hob and Dream say yes to each other in an old chapel by the river, the only witnesses the priest and a tiny black cat who Dream takes home afterwards.

On the tenth day the royal family finds them and Hob finds out what he’s got himself into.

But looking at his gorgeous husband next to him he decides it’s all worth it if he gets to live the rest of his life side by side with him.

[abyssalcryptid]

Untitled Portrait of a Man (I Want to Obliterate Me) by @seiya-starsniper

“You know, when a beautiful man asks me to get naked in his apartment, he’s usually naked with me,” Hob purrs, winking from his position on Dream’s dark green chaise lounge chair.

Dream rolls his eyes from behind his sketchbook and doesn’t rise to the taunt. If he presses his charcoal too hard into the paper as he continues to draw, Hob doesn’t need to know.

Hob laughs at Dream’s silence and leans backwards to rest on the chaise’s armrest, running a free hand through his long, wavy hair. The movement arches his back, and Dream presses his knees tightly together, trying desperately to ignore the painful erection he’s been harboring for over two hours now. Dream cannot deny that Hob is beautiful, it’s the reason they’re in this situation after all.

Dream had stumbled across Hob completely by accident when he saw the other from across the quad, playing volleyball with some other students. Dream liked people-watching on the grassy lawn, the constant whirl of activity gave him far more inspiration for his art than the bored models in his art classes. The volleyball game in particular had been an excellent way for Dream to study movement and muscle tension as the men ran back and forth along the sand covered court.

Then Hob removed his shirt midway through the game, and Dream promptly forgot about the rest of the game. He instead became singularly focused on the broad set of Hob’s shoulders, in the flex of his pectoral muscles each time he reached to return the ball over the net. Hob’s chest is also covered in thick dark hair, clearly soaked through with proof of Hob’s exertion.

Dream does not remember much of what happened once the game was over, he only knew that he had a singular goal of committing the man’s body to paper, and then eventually to a full painting. Before he knew it, he had approached Hob once the man had said his goodbyes to his friends, and from there they had arranged for Hob to come to Dream’s apartment and pose for him.

What Dream hadn’t been prepared for, however, was the excessive amount of flirting and innuendo coming out of Hob’s mouth. Dream has been uncomfortably hot in his own skin despite the air conditioning being at full blast, and Hob keeps wagging his eyebrows at him, and inviting Dream to join him on the chaise.

Dream will not be deterred. He is a professional, damnit, and he will act like one, even if Hob refuses to return the same courtesy.

[signiorbenedickofpadua]

| The Sandman | Dreamling | Regency AU | | 159k | 44 chapters | Complete | Explicit (skippable sexual content) |

Read on AO3

Mr. Robert Gadling may be tolerably handsome, of an amiable disposition and in possession of a good fortune (for a tradesman), but is it enough to tempt Morpheus, the 14th Viscount Amaranth? Will the months Mr. Gadling is to spend at the Amaranth country mansion as a result of a wager between the Lord Amaranth and his elder sister allow the unlikely pair to develop a friendship—or, perhaps, even a forbidden attachment? A series of rousing events involving balls, duels, play readings and meddling suitors lies between the Amaranth household and their return to town come winter—events which may forever change the viscount’s opinion on the merits of life in the country and, more importantly, on the balance between duty and the pursuit of happiness.

Gentle reader, At long last, the final chapter of Risk and Reward has been posted on AO3, and the story is now complete and ready to be savoured—just in time for Valentine's day (which is but hours away in this author's parts of the world at the time of writing). I hope you will find this Regency romance a fine addition to your day, whether you read it on that most romantic of dates or at some other time entirely. Enjoy!

Your obedient servant, SigniorBenedickofPadua

[dailydreamling]

Canon Divergence

My Stranger, My Dream by SigniorBenedickofPadua  (Words: 67,154)

Warning: Non-Graphic Violence

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Roderick Burgess' spell does not summon Death, but someone who has been touched by Death. Hob Gadling ends up in his cellar instead of Dream.

Canon Divergence

your body is an anchor by Ark (Words: 6,792 )

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

"The love of your life," Dream says softly. "That is quite a declaration to make, Hob Gadling, when one considers how many lives you've lived, and how many still await you."

Canon Divergence

in my mind's eye (i create someone i could love endlessly) by youcanseethecosmos (Words: 21,740)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Because home isn’t a place – not for Hob Gadling. It’s quiet conversations and purple and pink galaxies within starlit eyes. It’s glow-in-the-dark stickers and running around barefoot in the rain. It’s stubborn excuses, heated arguments, and the dip in the mattress with whispers of "I’m sorry" through the old creaky bed springs. It’s lifting the blanket and feeling a grounding warmth curl into your chest and letting it stay there long after the morning sun has risen.

It’s jet black hair, gangly limbs, and pale skin. Home is the person who’s holding onto him like a lifeline. Because Hob likes to think Dream sees this as home too – sees Hob as home.

Canon Divergence

A Waking Nightmare by KydrogenDragon (Words: 17,303)

Warning: Implied/Referenced Drug Use

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Hob has started hallucinating his Stranger for the past seventy-odd years. When his Stranger actually turns up, he thinks it's another hallucination. Shenanigans ensue to get the pair on the same page.

Canon Divergence

fly me to the moon by apocryphal (Words: 11,857) 

Warning: Ambiguous Slash, Panic Attacks, PTSD

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream discovers that after being locked in a cage for a century, it turns out he's contracted the mortal affliction known as claustrophobia. Inconvenient. He enlists Hob to help him resolve this issue ASAP. Obviously, that goes well.

See below for more recommendations!

Canon Divergence

Metaphysics by Quilling (Words: 3,199)

Warning: Dubious Morality, Canon and Historically Typical Violence

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

In order to perfect humanity’s own dark mirror, one needs not look for evil or greed. In the true heart of darkness lies a sort of ambiguity. Hob taught him that.

Canon Divergence

In Waking Dreams by cuubism (Words: 49,309)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

In 1389, Hob married a man in his dreams, a lover conjured only by his imagination -- or so he thought. Five hundred years later, a mysterious ransom letter has Hob questioning everything he knew about his dream husband, who coincidentally disappeared from his dreams seventy years ago.

Several miles away, trapped in a glass bowl, said husband is really regretting letting his marriage be only a story in dreams.

Canon Divergence

the shape this light could take by bacondoughnut (Words: 12,617)

Warning: PTSD, Emotional Baggage, Trauma

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

In Hob's defense, he doesn't think anyone in the history of people keeping fish as pets has ever been so offended by a standard glass fishbowl.

Canon Divergence

Dream of a thousand kisses by fellshish (Words: 6,335)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream wants his reunion with Hob to go perfectly after their big fight so he visits Hob’s dreams to rehearse the moment. During one of those practice dreams, Hob suddenly kisses him.

Alternate Universe - Post The Kindly Ones

Beautiful, Strange and New by Moorishflower (Words: 223,030)

Warning: References to The Kindly Ones, Suicidal Thoughts

Pairings: Dream of the Endless | Daniel/Hob Gadling/Dream of the Endless | Morpheus

On a bright and unforgiving Sunday morning, Hob Gadling, having attended the Wake of his best friend, opens his kitchen door to find...his best friend. Changed. Alive. Human, and carried in the arms of the being intended to replace him. Given one month to decide if life is worth living, Hob and Daniel attempt to convince Morpheus of his worth at the same time as all three of them navigate their feelings for each other.

Alternate Universe - Overture

Forgotten Preludes by Astrophel_Hireath (Words: 6,438)

Warning: Bittersweet, Memory Loss

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

“Fuck it,” Hob mutters, a series of complex emotions tumbling across his face in quick succession to each other - too fast for Dream to log. Fingers tap compulsively at Hob’s side, fidgeting in deep conflict. “I definitely won’t remember any of this?”

Dream’s brows slant. “No.”

"Perfect.” Hob says, only somewhat hysterically, before closing the distance between them in three purposeful steps.

Hob’s Students Fics

WTF is Gadling's Deal, Anyway? (Assorted Theories) by JustJReally (Words: 13,915)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Five theories Professor Gadling's students came up with to explain His Whole Deal (and one time he told them the truth). In which Morpheus is mistaken for a student, Hob is mistaken for many things, and no one is good at spying.

Hob’s Students Fics

Quarantine Debacles by Picture_Yourself (Words: 3,964)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

An examination of what exactly would occur if one were to take an oblivious anthropomorphic personification of dreams, a rant-prone history teacher and a Zoom call filled with queer students and toss them all into one metaphorical room.

Canon Divergence

A Dream interrupted by ColorMeHappy (Words: 30,763)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Meeting Dream had gone from once a century occurrence to every six months, to just every month, then to around once a week, a change of pace Hob would be eternally grateful for, if only people stopped bloody interrupting them.

(Five times someone in Hob's life interrupts him and Dream's meetings (dates) and one time it's someone Dream knows.)

Human AU

would you let me know?/ I could make some time if you wanted by BeatnikFreak (Words: 150,934)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dr Hob Gadling's been assigned a new colleague to co-teach his second year class, Dr Dream Oneiros, who is both utterly beautiful and completely unable to act like, y'know, a human being. But Hob's nothing if not indefatigable, especially when faced with a fascinating man who probably needs to talk about his feelings more, and who listens to every stupid thing he says like it's the most profound poetry.

Human AU

On Broken Wings by Konstadt (Words: 57,191)

Warning: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

An AU where they meet on the university campus and Hob gets more than he bargained for when he decides to be a good person

Human AU

Let Me Down Easy by sanyumi (Words: 21,747)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

“... Mr. Gadling will be your photographer today.” Hob hears Morpheus’ shoes scuff and halt on the wooden floor before he turns around, taking a deep breath and holding it as he finally meets Morpheus’ eyes for the first time in five years. Christ, Morpheus looks at him like he’s staring at a ghost. It almost makes Hob laugh.

“Hello,” Hob croaks. He knows this is the part he usually shakes hands with his model, but he doesn’t move his hand. He doesn’t want to touch Morpheus.

Canon Divergence

wouldn't you like to see something strange? by rainbow_shine (Words: 3,629)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream looked exactly the same as always. Yes, his coat was longer and his eyes were darker, but that was it. There was absolutely nothing that would indicate that his friend was disguised as something even remotely scary. Hob would even go as far as to say that Dream looked cute. He didn't know why no one else seemed to share his opinion.

Soulmate AU

Passing Stranger! (You Do Not Know How Longingly I Look Upon You) by WyvernQuill (Words: 25,112)

Warning: None

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Hob has known that Dream is his mildly star-crossed soulmate since their first meeting in 1389, but believes they have a mutual understanding not to acknowledge it; Dream, meanwhile, was under the impression that the Endless have no soulmates whatsoever, up until their sixth meeting in 1889. Finding out they're wrong comes as a bit of a shock to both of them.

Retire Dream AU

Next to Nothing by Cheshyr (Words: 6,056)

Warning: Angst with a Happy Ending, Insecurity, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream knew that retiring from Endlessness to live a human life with Hob Gading wouldn't be easy. He wasn't expecting Hob to laugh at him so much though. (In which there are misunderstandings, Dream hides things he shouldn't, and being human is hard.)

Omega Verse AU

lover, be good to me by CinnamonCake (Words: 100,265)

Warning: Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Dream de Endless was suppose to be his family’s most prized jewel, but when he is taken, he loses the last thing the world considered valuable about him. Broken down to his core, he does not expect anyone to want him again. Until Robert Gadling walks into his life

[rauchendesgnu]

Dream is not a fan of ugly christmas sweaters (~ 90 min). For @ialwayscomewhenyoucall and her amazing drabble!

[lenreli]

submerge your inhibition

[AO3]

4.6k, Explicit. Models Dream + Hob. Inspired by Ferdie in The Comeuppance BTS.

-

Dream quietly slips into the room, and finds himself relaxing even as the chaos of a photoshoot mills around him. The photographer calling things out, a closed off partition where people are arguing about clothes and makeup, the requisite table of food and crew taking bites from it between running around. 

It’s not his photoshoot, but it still feels familiar. Like coming home, which Dream didn’t think he would feel after― 

But, Lucienne strongly recommended that he get out of his apartment, to be around people that aren’t her. Or his sister. Or his therapist, Matthew. 

So next week he will be having a photoshoot with Robert Gadling, someone that Lucienne seemed to approve of, and he’s learnt the brutal way that he should trust her more. Pulling his black coat tighter around him, he’s been avoiding where the camera’s pointing, re-familiarising himself with everything else first. 

Finally looking towards the main scene, there are many people ― but with just the picture Lucienne gave him, he’s easily able to spot Gadling, leaning against the wall, stare intense towards the camera. And Dream suddenly feels hotter, taking in the brown-and-grey hair and dark eyes, Gadling’s beard looking soft and touchable. 

And most absurd of all, is the ordinary clothes he wears. A brown leather jacket with a grey shirt underneath, belts and jeans and shoes so normal but Dream swallows, brain trying to figure out how this Gadling is the hottest model he’s seen in all his years in the industry, the plain clothes almost sinful. The peek of chest hair from his top, the way the jeans are across the crotch, bordering on obscene, the way it makes Dream’s mouth water. 

Did the man sell his soul to the devil? And he has to be near all that next week?! And function?! 

Any lingering doubts over his libido are quashed as Gadling’s eyes pass over to him, and it feels like the molten core of the Earth bursts in his veins as Gadling moves, settling into a different pose on the wall, hands in his jeans pockets. Dream’s mouth waters as he thinks about sitting in the spot in front of him, hands reaching towards jeans to― 

Apparently, the other people leave, but Dream doesn’t know, eyes stuck on Gadling as they are. Gadling stops looking towards him ― or, the camera, he reminds himself as someone comes over and gives him another jacket, more blood-red leather than the brown as Gadling nods and another touch of makeup gets put on him.

Dream can only watch, spellbound and body tingling as his blood rushes every way as Gadling moves to sit on a chair, intense stare still directed at the camera, and at Dream himself.

Then the photographer calls for lunch and Gadling smiles, lighting up the whole room as he stands up, bouncing on the heels of his feet and Dream blinks as Gadling heads straight for him. “Did our shoot get moved up? Right. Sorry. You can call me Hob, and we’re going to,” Gadling―Hob enthuses, a warm hand brushing onto his shoulder as he gestures.

“No. It is still next week,” he says as Hob breathes, huddling close to him with a soft smile, and Dream thinks that this might be even worse, the warmth from Hob, the bright grin and a faint smell of lemon and bergamot, “I wanted to get the lay of the land first.” 

Hob, still smiling, nods, and Dream doesn’t even feel like protesting as Gadling loosely takes his elbow, guiding them over to the food table. “Ah. Hope you’re still up for it, then!” Gadling says with a particular tone, which Dream’s unable to parse between all the warmth he can feel, the soft smile and brown eyes looking at him as Hob gets a mini custard tart to eat. “Honestly, I was so shocked when you, well, your agent confirmed it that I had to ask my roommate to pinch me, because your work’s so great and―sorry, again. I ramble,” Hob tugs at his ear and Dream blinks. “Also, I keep touching you. Tactile bastard, me,” Hob says with a chuckle. 

Dream blinks and Hob gets another tart, seemingly in no hurry for Dream to speak―”I do not. Mind. It is fine,” he says, surprising himself by meaning it, even with how stilted it comes out as Hob leans against the table, expression intently focused on him and what little words he says. “And you do not mind what―surely, you heard what happened,” he trails off as Hob finishes off another tart, apparently a favourite for him. 

Hob blinks and leans closer, not in a looming way, more for sharing secrets. “I heard bits, but I’m not gonna hold it against you, if that’s what you’re thinking. And honestly, just tell me to bugger off or stop something during our shoot and I definitely will. The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable.” 

The way it’s said, like it’s reasonable and okay, floors him as he tries to get his brain together, not helped with how attractive Hob in general is, and Dream tries not to lean closer to him, like he’s not helplessly magnetised. “I. Thank you. For the consideration.”

Hob’s brow furrows and Dream’s fingers twitch as Hob puts some hair behind his ear, “not so much consideration as common decency, I think. So. Curiosity sated, or will you stay to watch me flail about more?” Hob nods towards the area dedicated to the shoot, brown eyes sparkling. 

And. Well. “You do not flail,” he points out and Hob laughs, bright and loud. The sound of it is infectious, and Dream stops his lips twitching into a smile, feeling proud that he got such a response. Even though he’s sure that Hob laughs a lot, freely and openly. “I have nothing else to do.” There is ― fantasy book drafts in his notebooks, scribbled ideas of clothes and fashion, something gothic and avant-garde that he’s on a rough deadline for, but, Lucienne did have a point, much as he didn’t want to agree with it. 

“Oh, now I have to step up my game,” Hob says, a quick brush shoulder-to-shoulder as someone comes over and motions for Hob to return to make-up, which Hob agrees to with a nod. “Can’t disappoint you, after all.” 

Hob leaves him with a smile, and Dream takes one of the tarts to nibble on, settling on the far wall as Hob gets back into the shoot, easy smiles and demeanour melting off for the broody and intensity of the character he’s portraying, Dream’s shoulder gently burning with the long-gone touches. 

-

Robert Gadling, he learns while looking up Hob’s other photoshoots, is also an actor, starring in smaller roles but slowly gaining traction. And on the day of the fated shoot, Dream tries not to think about that one particular photoshoot Hob was in as they get put into suits, Dream a classic black with a red dress shirt and black tie, hair styled into a windswept mess with the help of lots of hairspray.

And Hob in a matching suit, but with a deep purple shirt. The photoshoot that Dream stared at for a very long time while looking up his fellow model involved Hob in a sharp suit coat, leather gloves and pointed shoes, which he eventually figured out was being sold. And certainly not the idea of a Hob Gadling like that stepping on you, which Dream definitely didn’t think about in detail in bed, as he saved the pictures. 

The photographer, one Johanna Constantine, took a look at them and nodded before barking orders with the set, and Dream tugs at the bottom of his suit jacket, nervousness blooming as the reality of it all becomes more solid.

Their makeup is minimal, apart from lip gloss on Dream’s end. With eyeliner on Hob’s, brown eyes even more arresting as they stare at him. Constantine is still working things out it seems, as they sit in the make-up chairs, waiting for the call. “You good?” 

“Yes,” he says after a deep breath, the set, Hob, everything unlike that time, the harrowing time afterwards. Hob smiles and knocks their shoes together briefly. 

“Constantine may be a hard-ass, but she’ll listen. One time with her, well, she may have punched someone out because I kept saying it wasn’t nice,” Hob offers with a shrug and Dream gapes. “They were fine, of course, and she got into trouble for it, but she will take out anything that, you know,” Hob says, gesturing expansively towards the photographer, who Dream can’t stop himself from admiring now, just a bit. “She’s good to us models.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

-

The photoshoot starts off slow, some standing in the same room, white walls and glass tables, and a red chaise lounge. Eventually drifting closer and closer ― then Hob puts a blunt switchblade to the edge of his throat, the blade facing the camera as Dream is given his own blade, to put on the other side of Hob’s neck as the camera shutter constantly clicks. 

Dream can almost see the story unravelling as their blades are taken away, distrust but tension and his heart jumps into his throat as Hob pulls him closer by his tie, the length of it getting curled around his hand as they stare at each other. As Dream grabs onto the knot of Hob’s silk tie, loosening it. 

Constantine’s orders filter through a far-off place, pulse racing as Hob’s eyes become softer, awe and devotion showing as Dream leans closer, his cheek eventually pressing into the stubble of Hob’s chin, soft and prickly, hiding some of Hob’s face from the camera. “Okay, now look down,” Constantine says and he does, looking at his hand on Hob’s tie, at the soft skin of his neck. 

“Good?” Hob asks quietly, a breath against his ear and Dream swallows a shiver, never realising how cold he was, with Hob as a column of heat, almost engulfed with it as Hob’s other hand, not on his own tie, touches his hip. 

“No complaints,” he replies without moving his lips, voice an octave lower as the tension stretching between them as the hand on hip presses in, can feel nails over fabric and Dream turns his head, their noses brushing, lips almost― 

“Break time,” Constantine barks out and Dream almost swallows his tongue, frustration lingering as Hob moves away, dark eyes sharp and bright. Dream resists leaning back in, the cold of the room bracing as Hob smiles, a loose grip on his wrist pulling him along to the food table. 

“Didn’t think we were working that long,” Hob mumbles, letting go of his wrist to pick at some strawberries, and Dream hums. Blood rushing hot, Dream gets one of the cold cold cucumber sandwiches, nibbling it as the crisp cool refreshes him, and as Hob weaves stories of another set he was on, where every minute felt like an hour, not helped by how much of an entitled prick one of the main actor’s was. 

Dream listens attentively as they finish their food and are whisked off to get their make-up touched up, their jackets taken off. Soon enough, they’re back to the set, this time closer to the chaise. And very close, Hob’s body heat making his tingle― 

And then Dream has to put his hand on Hob’s cheek, greying stubble under his palm as Hob’s hands go to undo his tie, eyes dark and focused on his face. Once again, Constantine’s orders go to some distant place, overwhelmed by the feel of Hob, the soft skin and prickly stubble, his hand going down the other’s jaw, to the edge of stubble on his neck. 

Then Hob’s thumb traces up his neck, the touch scalding hot that Dream doesn’t even realise that Hob’s going back down to his shirt. Constantine’s now the top button comes through and something cold runs down Dream’s spine as Hob slowly unbuttons his shirt―then a second button and― 

He’s attracted to Hob, there’s no denying that, but the undercurrent of fear and disgust, of the shape of what he dealt with― 

“No,” someone says, and it takes for a moment to realise that he’s the one that said it as Hob pulls his hand away, Hob’s brows furrowing. The relief is immediate, guilt and disappointment following after, a complex tangle of emotions as Constantine makes a sound. 

“Hobsie, you okay with Dream undoing your shirt?” Constantine barks and Hob tenses, looking towards the photographer and nodding. “Dream?” 

Dream manages to tear his eyes away to look at Constantine, as he nods and takes his hands off of Hob, taking a step back to breathe. “I apologise,” he croaks.

Constantine scoffs, “nothin’ to apologise for. Now, stop slacking off,” she orders, lifting up her camera with an eyebrow raise. 

“What she said,” Hob says, briefly showing a bright smile and Dream rolls his eyes. Taking another deep breath, he steps closer, next breath filled with the lemon and bergamot of Hob’s cologne, of the warm fabric under his hands as they rest on Hob’s chest. 

Hob’s look becomes soft and intense as he undoes the first button of Hob’s shirt ― and he can hear Constantine grumbling, more to herself then them, this might be even better actually―considering Hob’s closer to the chaise lounge, as he gently forces Hob onto it, the awe in those lined brown eyes making him shiver. Or maybe it’s Hob’s hands going to his hips as Dream undoes another button, chest hair showing. 

The tips of Dream’s fingers tingle and twitch as he slowly unbuttons Hob’s shirt, brain caught on the soft patch of chest hair as he sits on top of Hob, thighs pressed against Hob’s hip, the other’s groin against his, a searing warmth under him as Hob reclines onto the chaise. 

Dream bites down a shiver as a thumb manages to get under his shirt, the hot touch of it on the skin under his shirt all he can focus on for the moment. Perfect. Make the people wish they were you, he hears Constantine say, and his first thought is that he wishes he was doing this without a full crew in the same room, as he reaches the end of Hob’s shirt, revealing a dark happy trail going into black trousers. Straddling Hob as he is, he can feel how wet he is and hopes that the other man doesn’t.

His insides clench as he stares at where their bodies meet, and a sound gets pulled from him as Hob’s hand ― furthest from the camera, brushes his jaw, forcing his head up, his eyes meeting Hob’s, and Dream’s own hands rest on the other’s stomach, dark hair under his fingers. 

Hob cups his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek in the same tempo of the one under his shirt and Dream’s mind crashes, his hands travelling up Hob’s chest, feeling hair under his fingers and Hob continues to stare at him, devotion simple to see. He can almost feel it, making his tingle as Hob looks up at him, as his hands go further up and his hands stop. 

Looking down, he can’t see the scars below Hob’s nipples, covered by hair, but he can feel them, a line of scars, reminding Dream of his own. Though, his own had been made more invisible, compared to the one’s on Hob, and he blinks, staring at Hob in surprise, whose eyebrows raise. 

Whatever thoughts he had about the revelation disappear as the hand under his shirt moves, fingers pressing into his lower back as Hob starts to sit up, his crotch pressed flush against Hob’s, as the other’s face rests on his shoulder, prickly stubble brushing against his neck. Constantine says something, but he can’t catch it over his heart beating in his ear, over the way Hob’s breaths take all his attention, the hand on his jaw moving down his throat, brushing against his shirt and eventually resting against his hip. 

“Meet with me after?” Hob asks quietly, and Dream suppresses a shiver at how he can feel Hob’s words from his chest, can feel his throat moving against his skin.

“And if I say no?” He wrangles out, voice low and the hand under his shirt digs into his skin momentarily as Hob moves back to look at him, eyeliner making the brown of his eyes seem even more darker and Dream tries not to lean in, caught in the gaze as he is.

“Then it’s a no,” Hob replies, shrugging lightly. “So?” 

Dream can count on one hand, the times he’s gone through with the simmering tension that’s happened on photoshoots, but this time it seems more inevitable than most, with the way that Hob seems to warm him up to his bones from the lightest of touches. “Perhaps.”

-

Hob’s car is a “silver monstrosity” as described by the man himself, but Dream’s not interested in it, only that it can get them to the hotel Hob’s staying at. With Hob in jeans and bright pink Miskatonic University hoodie that Hob’s wearing, he wants to get his hands on Hob’s scorching skin again, his own black skinny jeans and band shirt feeling restrictive at the thought. Rolling down the window to let some air in, as well as stopping to stare at his reflection as Hob starts the car, there’s only one thing on his mind ― well, two. “Robert. Really?” He asks, skeptical. 

Hob laughs and shrugs, “I started life with a fancy name, when really, I’m just a guy.” 

Dream squints at the other man, “just a guy,” he repeats, still skeptical. Hob offers another shrug, and the conversation swiftly moves on. Well, Hob picks another thing to talk about, the words relaxing him as he stares out the window, listening to Hob’s gossip from a recent acting job he’s working on.

The soft tones of Hob’s voice settles under his skin as they reach the hotel, and as they get into the mirrored elevator, he realises that Hob still has the eyeliner from the shoot on. Reaching the desired floor, Hob loosely holds his hand, pulling him along until Hob stops and gets out his keycard, opening the door to his room. “Tea? Coffee? Or…” Hob trails off as Dream gives him a flat stare, “it’s polite!”

“Or,” he drawls, leaning forward to kiss Hob, the door shutting behind him as he gets his hands on the other’s stubbled jaw again. An oh is exhaled against him as they move towards the queen-size bed, Hob’s hands gripping his waist as Dream straddles him once more as they continue to share messy kisses, with plenty of Dream biting at the stubble around his lips, the soft and prickly feeling against his tongue pleasing. 

“Whatever you want,” Hob says, mouth unoccupied as Dream bites down his jaw, forcing his head back as he sucks marks into the stubble under Hob’s jaw, pleasure fizzling in his veins at finally being able to do so. Hob’s skin is warm underneath him, and he can feel the other’s racing pulse against his tongue as Hob’s fingers dig into his hips. 

A hand goes into soft brown hair as they continue kissing, and Dream feels smug as he pulls away from it and Hob follows, biting into his lips. In between those, Dream tugs off Hob’s hoodie, then the threadbare grey shirt under it to put his other hand on Hob’s chest, hair curling around his fingers as they kiss again. 

Just like before, Hob’s hands trail under his shirt and he shivers, quickly taking his shirt off in between biting kisses, and Dream lets out a happy whine as his chest comes into contact with Hob’s, only just restraining himself from rubbing their chests together. Though, with the way Hob laughs into his mouth, the intent seems clear as he holds onto the other’s hair, flush against Hob’s chest as he slides down and―oh.

A hard feeling against his crotch, thoughts derailing as he looks down, unable to see anything past their chests pressed against each other. Hob gives him a look from under his lashes, chin resting against his collarbone, “had to wear one of those cock sleeves for our shoot, otherwise…” Hob trails off, and Dream lets out a moan as a hand caresses his spine as Hob blinks up at him, skin tingling as he swoops in for another kiss, deeper and filthier as he grinds down onto the hardness underneath him.

Hob’s free hand comes up to his neck, gripping it lightly, a thumb swiping across his cheek as they kiss, sloppy and wet as Dream bites into Hob’s lips, into the stubble surrounding his mouth as his insides twist with heat. He shivers as Hob’s other hand moves to his front, fingers trailing down the dark hair from his stomach, slowly undoing his pants, and he has to break the kiss to gasp as a hand goes inside―with Hob making a triumphant sound as a finger goes inside his cunt. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob whispers, beard scratching down his neck, teeth nipping as well and Dream shudders as another finger goes inside him, fingers curling and twisting and making pleasure spark behind his eyes as he desperately holds onto Hob’s shoulder, other hand going to his hair as he melts. “Is this for me?” 

He can only cry out as Hob’s fingers, skilled and so warm continue to curl inside, and he can feel himself leaking even more around them, as other fingers press against his folds, massaging him gently. “Hob,” he breathes, voice cracking as he grinds onto them. 

“It is,” Hob sounds amazed, and Dream opens his eyes, confused when he shut them as Hob ― stares at him, awe and admiration plain on his face as Hob’s fingers reach deeper, the slow steady bliss making it so Hob is all he can feel, the fingers and warth, the body heat surrounding him as he whines, Hob sucking on his collarbones and up his neck. “You feel so,” Hob groans, another finger being put inside his cunt and he shivers, one of his hands scratching down Hob’s chest. 

“Hob,” he keens, fluid leaking down his thighs, still feeling Hob’s hardness pressed against him―but nowhere close enough. “Need you inside.” 

The hardness against him twitches and Hob whines, licking up his throat as his fingers continue to twist and stretch inside him, “not yet.” Fingers brush against that spot inside, other fingers brushing against his clit and dick and he writhes, orgasm meeting him absurdly quickly and he can only gasp as Hob’s fingers press and curl maddeningly, still relentless through his orgasm, whimpering at come he can feel leaking around warm fingers. 

“Inside,” he orders, voice a croak as Hob laughs, licking up his neck―and Hob’s fingers are still inside as there’s an awkward shuffle to get rid of shoes and pants. With more laughter as from Hob as Dream squirms out of his skinny jeans, Hob’s other hand resting on the small of his back and not helping at all, as somehow he manages it while straddling Hob still, settling fully back onto Hob’s lap once naked, feeling hairy thighs and a hard cock pressed against him as he can’t help but kiss Hob more. 

“I don’t have, I wasn’t―” Hob mumbles says between feverish kisses, fingers twisting inside him and Dream groans, his own fingers tangling into Hob’s hair as he nibbles at the other’s bearded chin. 

“I’m clean,” he throws caution to the wind, and Hob stops, pulling back from the kiss to give him a shocked stare. Dream sets his jaw as Hob opens his mouth, shuts it. 

“I mean, I am too, but still,” Hob stutters, hand on his back fluttering with a gesture and Dream resists rolling his eyes, tugging Hob in by his hair for a kiss. Hob shudders, gasping into him and Dream hums in pride. “If you’re sure,” Dream tugs Hob’s hair, and Hob groans, cock twitching against his cunt, which Dream would rather die than to not feel it―”okay, okay,” Hob strangles out, something like fondness in his tone. 

The fingers leave him and he whines at the loss, looking down to watch as the other’s cock enters him, and Dream gasps at the thickness, the warmth of it, can feel Hob shake under him, nails gripping his hips tightly. “Yes,” he breathes, and Hob lets out a strangled swear as he takes the rest of Hob in, slamming down on his cock, and he moans at the feeling. 

“Dream,” Hob keens, a hand coming up to his throat, tugging him into a sloppy press of lips, and Dream moans at the feel of chest hair on his dick as he presses down, pulling himself up to settle into a rhythm, the cockhead inside of him hitting that spot that makes him see stars, warming him up from within as he squeezes around Hob’s cock. “Fuck.” 

Aside from Hob’s exclamations, there’s the sound of skin-on-skin, and Dream can feel sweat gathering on Hob’s chest―or maybe a mixture of sweat and slickness as he chases his the pleasure heating him up, the constant cold he’s been feeling chased away due to the heat from Hob.

Time has only passed by the slowly building pleasure as he continues to ride Hob’s cock, in no hurry even as Hob’s whines become even louder, teeth biting into his throat―and Dream’s next breath is punched out of him as a finger enters him, another―two fingers on the top of Hob’s cock, curling inside, the rest of the fingers pressing against his dick, and he comes with a whine, gasping into Hob’s hair as his walls squeeze the other’s cock. 

There’s a groan as Hob comes, even more fluids filling him, and he can feel it leaking around Hob’s cock, his fingers as they gather their breath. The fingers leave him, making him squeeze Hob’s softening dick tightly, “stay,” he gasps, resting his forehead against Hob’s temple as he throws his arms around the other’s shoulders. 

“Bossy,” Hob murmurs, smiling and Dream’s cunt leaks as Hob puts his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. “You know, I’d love to tug on your hair too, but I wouldn’t want to break it,” Hob’s other hand goes to the back of his neck and Dream scoffs, almost affronted as he touches it―

And he freezes, nose scrunching as he feels the tacky and stiff hairspray, still in it from the photoshoot. “A shower, then,” he proposes, then frowns, the feeling of Hob, even soft, not being inside him not something he wants to think about. “One more, then shower,” he amends. 

“What?” Hob pouts, arms going around his waist, dark eyes blinking up at him, “how about one more in the shower, a quick one, then we can come back to this?” Hob argues, eyes sparkling even with the harsh hotel lights. 

Dream works his jaw, pulling away from the other’s face with a sigh. “It might be acceptable.” 

“Might be,” Hob repeats, shaking his head and sighing, and Dream groans as Hob leaves him, sliding out from underneath as Hob puts a hand out, “come on. Sooner we shower, sooner we can get back,” Hob says with a wriggle of his fingers, eyes dark and sparkling.

Huffing, Dream curls up on the bed, hiding a smirk behind an arm as Hob’s eyes rove over him, “if you insist.”  

[Fin]

[obsessivedreamling]

I posted a while ago how I forgot I was working on a Dreamling fic where Dream is obsessed with Hob’s piercings.

Well I have officially finished it and will be posting it today!!!!

Edit 5/5/2024: IT IS UP

[chaosheadspace]

Okay, I made a meme for @valeriianz fic Bolt in the Blue's new chapter because it has my heart and brain in a tight grip, if you haven't read it, go and do!

[thebitchesterbrothers]

„Nobody leaves this room until we’ve found my ring!“

Oh, great. Ava needs to be at the other end of the campus for her next class in fifteen minutes.

„Is he serious right now? It’s not our fault he lost his stuff.“ Doug, one of the other students dramatically rolled his eyes.

„Oh come on, have some sympathy. It’s probably antique and ridiculously expensive. Just help him find it and we can all be on our way.“

Just five minutes ago Ava was listening to Professor Gadlings lecture about early modern drama when he noticed the lack of his ring. One of the braver students had once asked him about his kind of uncharacteristically flashy ring he was sporting on his left hand.

The professor was known on campus as a very down-to-earth guy, almost suspiciously normal. Wearing cozy and practical clothes he always gave off the impression of a perfect son-in-law. In Ava’s opinion there was still a kind of mysterious aura about him but she never managed to put it into words. Not too much was known about him despite his cheery and social behavior.

It all added to his attractiveness. If one was into middle aged history professors…so basically at least half of the class had a crush on Mister Gadling and Ava surely was a leading member of the unofficial Dr. Robert Gadling fan club. For academic purposes only, of course.

That particular ring however didn’t seem like something the man would buy for himself. It was gold, beautifully carved and had a massive ruby embedded in the center of it.

It was just a touch too flamboyant for their professor that there had to be a story behind it.

But all he would give them as an answer was a sly smile and a cryptic comment about „how Shakespeare would die of jealousy if he could see him now.“

Said ring was now missing. When Gadling noticed his bare finger all hell broke loose.

Running his hands frantically through his hair, pulling it into a tight ponytail only to undo it seconds later. Crawling under his cluttered desk and painfully bumping his head in the process.

For a minute or two it was admittedly funny to watch the man sweat but now Ava just felt sorry for him. If she’d own such an obviously expensive piece of jewellery she would freak out too. Maybe it was an old family heirloom of some kind. The man owned all kinds of weird historic stuff, that much was for sure.

And apparently now they all had to help him find it if they wanted to leave this room anytime today.

So this is how Ava finds herself now on the surprisingly clean floors of lecture hall number five, looking for a shiny piece of metal along with her classmates.

Gadling seems to slowly but surely drift off into panic mode, spurring them on while turning every pocket of his trousers inside out, his hair sticking in every direction like one of the cartoon characters from her childhood. A mad scientist indeed.

“It has to be in this room! Keep looking! I can’t go home without it…and believe me when I say we’re all going to have a terrible night of disturbing dreams if we don’t manage to find it!” What is that supposed to mean, please?

Just as he’s about to flip his desk - yes, the very heavy and very antique looking desk - an unfamiliar voice breaks the chaotic atmosphere.

“Are you looking for something specific, professor? You seem quite distressed.”

And if Mister Gadling appeared ‘distressed’ before he’s outright shocked now.

In front of the old oak door leading into freedom - Ava can’t wait to finally leave this madhouse - stands the most gorgeous and posh looking goth prince she’s ever seen. Damn, those cheekbones alone are to die for, but his voice…dark, soothing, absolutely mesmerizing. The man looks regal even in a place that is anything but. That long flowing coat is a bit much though.

“Oh. You. Are here.” What happened to her eloquent professor?

“Indeed I am, Hob.” Hob? What kind of nickname is that?

“I mean why? Why exactly are you here? It’s just that you never visited before.”

Ava crawls back from under her chair to not miss a minute of whatever the hell this is.

She swears that Gadling - Hob, she remembers - starts to blush like a shy school girl. Who is that man that makes her professor lose his cool?

Meanwhile the rest of the classroom stopped the search for the ring, instead staring without shame at the play in front of them.

“My duties prevented me from visiting one of your lectures. I apologize for that. But you missed something of great value this morning. I thought you might want it back.”

And with that emo king (Ava really needs to find out that man’s name) calmly walks towards her professor, completely unaffected by his nosy audience.

Once he reaches the other man he gently takes his hand, opens it … and places a ring into his palm. Not just any ring, no.

The ring that “definitely has to be in this room”, as Ava recalls professor Gadlings voice. So much for that.

The stranger looks clearly amused at mister Gadlings obvious embarrassment.

“You left it next to the sink after washing the dishes. Then you realized how late you were and forgot to put it back on. I had to stop Matthew from hiding it under his pillow.”

Did Gadling have a cat? That man would surely get a cat and name it Matthew.

Gadling looks as relieved as he looks stressed by now.

“Thank you. I may have overreacted a bit.”

More than a few students agree on that but are too smart to make a comment.

That dark dream of a man fondly tucks a strand of hair behind their professors ear and wow, what’s happening? Ava tries to be as silent as possible to not ruin this moment. Her friends will never believe her.

Apparently Gadling finally found his voice again.

“You came all this way just to…”

“To take your wedding ring where it belongs, husband.”

And with that he places an almost chaste kiss on the other man’s lips and abruptly turns around to leave the - absolutely stunned and silent - room. Everyone is openly staring at poor mister Gadling now. Ava is pretty sure she saw one of the younger students filming or at least taking a picture of the whole thing. She’ll have to ask for evidence.

“Okay listen. None of this ever happened. You saw and heard nothing. Thank you for your help. Goodbye.”

Gadling quickly dismisses his students and almost flees the lecture hall.

Days later Ava still isn’t sure she witnessed a very elaborate fever dream

[virgo-dream]

Hob had fought Lucifer, as Dream’s champion, with his bare hands, rushing in where angels would fear to tread, heedless of anything but the desire to protect.

knight of cups by @softest-punk

[signiorbenedickofpadua]

Dreamling | Regency AU | Explicit (skippable sexual content) | 150k | 44 chapters | Updated daily from Jan 1 to Feb 13 | Read on AO3

Mr. Robert Gadling may be tolerably handsome, of an amiable disposition and in possession of a good fortune (for a tradesman), but is it enough to tempt Morpheus, the 14th Viscount Amaranth? Will the months Mr. Gadling is to spend at the Amaranth country mansion as a result of a wager between the Lord Amaranth and his elder sister allow the unlikely pair to develop a friendship—or, perhaps, even a forbidden attachment? A series of rousing events involving balls, duels, play readings and meddling suitors lie between the Amaranth household and their return to town come winter—events which may forever change the viscount’s opinion on the merits of life in the country and, more importantly, on the balance between duty and the pursuit of happiness.

After many, many months of work, it's finally here! My Dreamling Regency AU is finished, and the first chapter is now out on AO3! The fic will be updated daily with the final chapter scheduled to be posted on February 13, meaning that if you prefer to wait until the story is complete to binge the whole thing, there will be a juicy Regency romance ready and waiting for you to dig into on Valentine’s day ❤️

Many thanks to my wonderful beta readers, im_not_corrupted and AralezInSpace!

Header art by me.

[happy-raven]

Broken Piano Keys

Dream Endless was a celebrated concert pianist until Roderick Burgess brought a violent end to his career. After multiple surgeries and months of rehabilitation, Dream has recovered 95% of his left hand's former abilities. Unfortunately for Dream, that 5% is crucial to being a concert pianist. Luckily, you do not need to be exceptional to play at an inn, you just need a good sister to give you a push and make the connections.

Hob Gadling is no stranger to trauma recovery. Not only has he made that painful journey himself, but he's also been supporting his seven-year-old son through his too. So of course he couldn't help but want to be a safe harbor for Dream who is embarking on his own trauma recovery journey. Hob just wishes he'd known how captivating Dream was before he'd said yes.

[harukaspiegel]

"Which Prisoners Call the Sky" by @dreamerinsilico.

I did them for @endlessbigbang.

[lenreli]

relinquish your flesh

[AO3]

Dreamling, Explicit, 2.2k. Inspired by @meadowziplines, who is also writing something along these lines!

Dream is very tense. Hob helps him relax - and let go of his long-held control. (aka, Hob doms Dream into an incoherent mess)

-

Hob gasps, mind trying it’s best to hold onto the pleasure coursing through him as Dream’s cock spears him― 

But Dream looks so tense, which of course Hob didn’t get anything out from his partner aside from courtly matters, and well. He looks so strung-tight, even in his bed, that Hob can’t help but think of turning Dream over and taking control, making him pliant and boneless, only pleasure on his mind― 

And Dream stops altogether. “Dream?” He asks, blinking at the way his lover has completely frozen. “Love? You’re not breathing?” He asks gently, and sure, Dream doesn’t need to, but he tends to when they’re getting physical like this, especially in the Waking. 

Dream blinks, hands no longer digging into Hob’s hips as starry eyes look up at him. “You would? But,” Dream, oddly enough, closes his mouth, expression confused and Hob groans as Dream’s dick leaves him. 

“I would?” He asks, only realising after that Dream’s probably talking about the daydream. “Of course I would,” he clarifies and Dream frowns, brows furrowing ― and such yearning want in his eyes, the blue getting swallowed by black and stars, and Hob’s heart twinges.

“I am a king,” Dream offers, like that explains anything, “a king is supposed to rule,” Dream continues, a hand gesturing between them, and Hob’s eyebrows raise at the implication. 

“Love, you’re not meant to rule the bed no questions asked,” he sighs, and Hob can only feel incredulous as Dream looks even more confused, starry eyes blinking. “You’re not the king in our bed, you’re my lover, my partner,” he explains.

“All my other,” Dream cuts himself off, frowning and looking down at Hob’s chest. Hob bites back a sound, something angry probably, but even more baffled because Dream’s been around since the beginning of the universe, billions of years and yet― “you would not think less of me? For,” Dream stops again, pink lips thinning as he looks away. 

Sighing, Hob tugs Dream down, pressing light kisses to Dream’s lips and jaw, his partner stiff as a board as Hob eventually wrangles him down onto the bed, “do you think less of me?” He asks pointedly, raising an eyebrow and Dream shakes his head, still looking away from him. “So why should I think less of you?”

“I do not, I,” Dream opens and shuts his mouth more, searching for words and Hob nips down his pale neck, light bruises soon appearing as Dream holds onto his biceps. 

“My love, relax, I’ll look after you,” he says softly, hands sweeping up and down Dream’s torso and Dream makes a sound that seems pulled from him. “The only thing you’d need to do is enjoy it―and follow my instructions,” he says as he bites the hinge of the other’s jaw, and Dream makes a confused sound, and there’s a gasp as he takes hold of Dream’s cock, sliding it back inside with a groan. 

“You have given no―” Dream whines along with Hob as he rides himself on the other’s cock, adjusting the angle until it hits his prostate consistently. 

“Relax,” he breathes, nipping Dream’s ears as Dream’s hands, on the bed, arching into him and Hob whines, bliss fizzling through his veins, “and don’t come,” he grins and Dream makes a sound, starry eyes looking up at him as Hob grabs one of Dream’s hands, kissing and licking the inside of his wrist. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” 

Inside him, Dream’s cock twitches and his partner makes a sound that seems wrenched out of him, hand near his face spasming and eventually patting his beard, Dream’s black eyes becoming even wider. 

“See, you’re being so good for me already,” he says and Dream whimpers, gasping as Hob nips down a pale inner arm, chasing the orgasm that was derailed a bit earlier. “So sweet and lovely, my own treasure to look after,” he whispers into Dream’s elbow and there’s another wrenched sound, the other’s body gasping underneath him as his thoughts just become pleasure as he comes with a whine, squeezing Dream’s cock as he does, his come splattering up to the other’s neck. 

“Hob,” Dream keens, eyes wide and unblinking as Hob pulls himself off, one hand fluttering on the stubble of his beard, the other on his shoulder as Hob focuses on moving to the bedside table, getting out some warm, tingling lube that he usually saves for when he wants to feel really good. Or when his partner before Dream wanted it. 

“Now, if you still want to be king in bed, consider a king being fucked so crudely by a peasant,” the words leave him without warning as he puts a lubed finger into Dream’s hole, who shudders, plush lips open as Hob licks up his neck, “but of course, that can be for another time, just something for you to think about. I do have many years of these fantasies, you know,” he says as Dream gasps, arching into him. 

“I,” Dream whines, the fingers digging into his shoulder as he adds another finger, the other’s cock twitching and red, leaking pre-come. 

“I want to make you feel good, want you to look after you so well,” he rambles, slowly stretching Dream open, eventually adding a third finger as his other hand pushes Dream’s arching body down by his stomach. “You’re no longer a king in bed unless I want you to be.” 

His words are punctuated by a brush against the other’s prostate and Dream lets out a wail that makes his ears ring, that makes the window in his room shudder. 

“Please,” Dream’s voice cracks, low and breathy ― and there are tears, like shooting stars out of his glistening eyes and Hob leans in to kiss him softly, free hand coming up to touch Dream’s throat, caressing the soft skin as he continues to finger Dream. 

“I know, don’t worry,” he soothes, spent cock twitching and he groans, nipping marks down Dream’s throat, down to sharp collarbones as Dream’s cock, red and leaking presses against his stomach. “You want to come for me so much, but you’re so good for not doing that,” he whispers as licks a pink nipple, Dream whining and crying out. “So very good for me.” 

Dream keens and arches into his fingers, nails digging into his shoulder, another into his bicep as Dream makes a frustrated noise and Hob sighs, pushing Dream flat onto the bed. With how desperate he is, Hob’s not sure if Dream can tell the way he wants to wrestle back some control, clinging to it. 

“My love,” he smiles, hand going down to a bony hip, lightly touching the other’s cock and Dream gasps, “let me take care of you,” he pleads softly, stretching Dream’s hole as another sound gets pulled out, Dream slowly relaxing, the nails no longer biting into his skin, “there we go. My wonderful Dream,” he praises, feeling a shudder around the fingers inside of Dream. “Your only duty now is to not come, my Dream.” 

There’s a keen as his fingers brush against the other’s prostate, and a gasp that seems to suck some of the air out of the room―and Dream’s hands fall off him, lightly gripping the bedsheets as unblinking eyes of the universe stare up at him. “Yours,” Dream ― speaks, though it sounds more the machinations of reality, Dream’s form seeming to unravel briefly, hurting his eyes before becoming even more solid under him, around him. 

“And I’m yours,” he says with a smile, feeling Dream relax even more around his fingers ― and Hob can feel his cock hardening, heat coiling in him and Hob hums. “One other thing. Do you want it tight, or looser for when I make love to you?” 

At this, Dream blinks slowly, eyes flickering down to where they’re connected. Dream’s mouth moves and there’s a whimper as Hob twists his fingers. “Tight,” Dream breathes. 

“Of course, my love,” he smiles, and there’s a whine as his fingers leave, Hob peppering kisses over Dream’s face, the edge of teary eyes as he coats his cock with lube, “so good for me, telling me so quickly,” he hums again ― and they both whine as he enters Dream, cock dragging against velvet walls and Hob takes a deep breath, dry hand going to pet wild black hair. “You can touch me,” he breathes. 

There’s a keen as Dream’s hands go straight to his chest, nails digging into his chest hair as he slowly leaves Dream, and there’s a gasp as he goes back in. One of Dream’s hands trails up into his hair, holding it loosely as he begins a slow rhythm, only garbled sounds that are close to his name coming out of Dream’s mouth and Hob mentally pats himself on the back. 

“So good and beautiful for me,” he praises, voice breathy as he focuses on Dream’s pleasure, and there’s a loud wail as he grazes Dream’s prostate, the other’s cock twitching against his stomach. “Oh, my Dream, you want to come so badly, don’t you?” 

“Ye―s,” Dream grinds out, the plea long and slurred, tears flowing more freely as Hob fucks into his prostate, and Hob moans as the other’s hole squeezes him tightly, keeping him inside. “Hob.”

“You’ve been so good for me, you’ll get what you want soon,” he croons, Dream whining as a hand goes to pet Dream’s jaw, trailing down to hold onto the other’s hip. “My king, so bound by duty and function, so good and dutiful for me in this,” he says, and Dream shudders, eyelashes fluttering as the stars in Dream’s eyes seem to vanish, becoming more black void than the night sky. “Do you feel good?” 

Dream nods, motions jerky as a sound floats through the air―literally, the waves of it tangible, the moan hanging suspended as more come out, and Hob keeps up a steady pace. 

“You’ll have to tell me, pet,” he breathes, and Dream makes more garbled sounds, the soundwaves hanging above them as Dream looks at him pleadingly. 

“I―yes,” Dream gets out eventually, arching into him, the pale form blurring around the edges briefly, almost melting into his groin and chest before he solidifies again. 

“Excellent,” he whines, focusing more on his building heat, the soon enough tipping over the edge as he comes into Dream’s hole, feeling the walls around him grip him tighter, “I won’t leave you,” he soothes, thumb brushing back-and-forth on Dream’s hip, going down to press a kiss to pink lips, Dream trying to respond but lips slacking, the other’s tongue grazing the stubble of his beard. “You can come anytime now.” 

Dream squeezes him tightly and comes with a sob ― and Hob blinks as the other’s hand come flies up to his neck, and there’s a faint sound of dogs barking, other things and Hob looks around, his alarm clock turned off. And Dream is ― resting, eyes closed, and not even a sound comes out of him as he exists Dream, looking around to see that the power’s blown out, probably due to a certain anthropomorphic personification. Caressing Dream’s face, he quickly moves to get a towel, cleaning them up. 

And some red wine in a glass, as well as a snack for himself, and Dream curls up against him as he gets back to his bed. Taking a sip, he knows Dream doesn’t care for it, but perhaps Dream might want some as he pets Dream’s hair, the body next to him all but lifeless. 

Hob’s gotten halfway through his chocolate bar before Dream stirs to life next to him, and there’s a groan as Dream slowly opens his eyes, expression confused. “No need to get up, just feel it,” he says softly, kissing a black brow and Dream lets out a sigh, melting onto his chest. “You may need to turn the power back on though,” he grins, and dark blue eyes flick up to him from his chest, and soon enough the alarm clock blinks back to life. 

“This is why―”

“If you’re going to go on some this is why I shouldn’t experience ground-breaking, mind-bending pleasure route, please know that I don’t care,” he says quietly, but firmly and Dream’s mouth clacks shut. “The important thing is: did you like it? And would you be up for more?” 

And of course, there’d be things like safe-words and all that, but they can take it slowly. Dream groans, pushing himself up to kiss his collarbone ― and take a sip of wine before resting his head on Hob’s shoulder. “I would,” Dream whispers, voice rough and croaky, “I,” Dream frowns, his hands wriggling before settling on his chest, fingers going through his chest hair. “Hm,” Dream purses his lips, shutting his eyes as he melts even more onto him.

Literally, the other’s form melting over his chest as Hob continues to pet his hair, everything below his neck losing coherency until there’s a mass of white on top of him. “I’d love to do it again, if there’s any doubt,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows and Dream just makes a soft sound, almost a purr and Hob is delighted to see not an ounce of stress or tense lines anywhere on him. 

[Fin]