#julykinkfest2023

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Days 4 & 5

The Sandman || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 939 words

Prompts: Possessive Sex | Body Worship | “I had a dream about you.”  - Exhibitionism | Aftercare | “I’ve always wanted to try this.”

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): getting together, jealous Dream, rough sex, biting and other post-sex superficial injuries

Author's Notes: Two days combo platter! Five out of six prompts! Whoo!

As his lover dozes, Dream traces the marks left on Hob’s skin. Not the scars, but the recent ones, bruises and welts and scrapes, left not so long ago by Dream’s fingers and lips and teeth. And as he touches each one he checks that it is superficial, urges each gently into healing, and memories float to the surface.

It started with one of the New Inn’s regulars, Eliot Sutton, a New Yorker at the end of two years of post-doctoral work in astrophysics and cosmology, who had sought work abroad as he was fleeing his broken engagement and family strife. Dream knows these details immediately upon looking at the man, but what actually matters is that he and Hob are in the back of the pub, sharing a table and a pint, papers and books spread out before them, working in a familiar and companionable silence. 

On Hob’s hip, long finger-shaped bruises are starting to purple. Dream can hear the echo of Hob’s sob of pleasure, of relief, as Dream finally sinks his cock into his loosened, slick hole. “Yes! Sweetchristyes!”

As Dream gets closer to the table he learns more: Eliot Sutton has a black cat back at his apartment that he adopted from a local shelter because she was twelve and looked like she needed a friend. He has a collection of old manuscripts on Babylonian astronomy that probably should be in a museum. The man reaches to take a sip of his ale and spends a moment staring at Hob. Dream picks up the edges of an erotic daydream, no the memory of a dr-

“I had a dream about you last night.” The man interrupts Dream’s thoughts as much as Hob’s work and both stop mid-movement.

Long red welts along Hob’s back are receding, no longer as sharp-edged and raised as when Dream’s nails made them, scrabbling for purchase as Hob bent the Dreamlord in half as he fucked him with deep, rolling thrusts. “Let him see. Fuck, invite the entire college, the entire city… let them all see how I lose myself in you. Only you.”

“Did you now?” Hob takes his own pint in hand, downing a large swallow. “Let me guess, a nightmare about me, a lowly history professor, grading your uni papers?”

Eliot very clearly lets his gaze get dark, his voice suggestive. “Not quite. Although it did involve a desk.”

Hob blushes. “El…”

More nail marks, clear crescents in sets of four, overlap each other across Hob’s shoulders, a few crusted with dry blood. Dream cleans them with a careful touch and hears his own growls in his ears as Hob drops to his knees in front of him. “Is this how the most devoted priests feel when faced with their god?” He nuzzles into the base of Dream’s leaking cock, licks tentatively, making them both shudder. “Willing to exalt, to glorify, to praise, with mouth and tongue, with words and breath, with body and soul…” He presses the flat of his tongue to the underside, making Dream gasp and claw into his shoulders as he licks a line up to the tip. When next Hob speaks his lips brush the head with each word. “I would worship you, my Dream.”

Any further answer is interrupted when Hob catches sight of Dream in his peripheral vision and his face breaks into a smile wider than any he has seen directed at Eliot. “My friend!” Hob stands to greet him, to bring him to the table with a hand on his shoulder. “It has been less than a week since we last met! I was not expecting to see you so soon! Not that I am complaining, mind you – I welcome your presence, day or night.” Hob turns to his table-mate. “Eliot! This is my oldest and dearest friend D-”

“Morpheus.” Dream interrupts, putting out a hand to shake as is current custom. Hob blinks at Dream, confusion passing across his face for only the slightest moment, before he motions for Dream to sit with him in his side of the booth.

Eliot shakes Dream’s hand amiably enough, but his eyes narrow at how close Dream slides in next to Hob.

Smaller bruises litter the top of Hob’s shoulders, his collarbones, underneath his jaw. Dream touches each one and remembers its unique taste, remembers making them with his hungry mouth as he unbuttons Hob’s shirt. They are barely inside his flat, crowded into the corner behind the shut front door. “Oh fuck,” Hob moans, arching into Dream’s touch, tugging at Dream’s hair. “If only I had known, love… I would have ventured to make you jealous sooner!” 

Eliot leaves not ten minutes later and Hob gives Dream a pointed look. “Was that really necessary?” 

Dream stares right back. “He dreams of having you. Not just carnally. Intimate in all senses of the word.”

One of Hob’s eyebrows makes a break for his hairline. “And that is a problem because…?” But he must see something in Dream’s expression, because Hob leans in. “Does that make you…” Hob licks his lips and Dream’s eyes follow the motion of their own volition. “... are you jealous, Dream?”

The last bruise is a nebula of colors along the side of Hob’s nape, created through repeated attention from Dream’s mouth as he fucks Hob through another of his own orgasms. Hob’s cock has long since been exhausted, but still he pleads for Dream to take him, to fill him, to use him. Still he wishes only to be a vessel for Dream’s pleasure. So as Dream drifts downward, finally sated, he purrs into Hob’s ear. “Mine.”

#julykinkfest2023 #Dreamling #nsft #read the warnings #Pavonis writes

[reallyintoscience]

The Honk Zone presents: July Kinkfest, a multifandom prompt list A D/s and kink themed prompt fest for July. Use it however you like. Any fandom, any pairing, any rating, any medium. Pick one of the prompts for the day or combine them and create something for it. Use the prompts as jumping off points or play them straight. You make your own rules. Use the tag #julykinkfest2023 if you'd like to tag us in.

You are also welcome to post to the AO3 collection july_kinkfest.

Fest run by @beholdme and @reallyintoscience. DM either of us or reply to the post if you have questions!

Prompts below the readmore:

Bonus prompt: SpunkelCouchen (sex on a green velvet sofa)

1 - Begging | Degradation | “You have to tell me what you want.”

2 - Edging | Comeslut | “Show me what’s in your bedside drawer.”

3 - Biting | Restraints | “How do you feel about a threesome?”

4 - Possessive Sex | Body Worship | “I had a dream about you.” 

5 - Exhibitionism | Aftercare | “I’ve always wanted to try this.”

6 - Praise Kink | Bruises | “Anyone could walk by and see what a little slut you’re being right now.” 

7 - Blood Kink | Omega in Heat | “What have you been up to without me?” 

8 - Piercings and Tattoos | Desperate Sex | “I’m going to take care of you.”

9 - Denial | Roleplay | "Careful darling. You're this close to being pinned against the wall until you beg forgiveness."

10 - Double Penetration | Phone Sex/Sexting | “Be a good boy/girl for me now.” 

11 - Temperature Play| Kink Discovery | “I want you to be loud for me.” 

12 - Voyeurism | Pillow Princess | “I know you like it rough but I'm not going to damage you.”

13 - Weapons Kink | Aggressive Omega | “Show me how you like to touch yourself.” 

14 - Breeding Kink | Confession | “I want to dress you up.”

15 - Public Claiming | Bondage | “How do you want it?”

16 - Deepthroating | Painslut | “Can you be good for me, or do I need to tie you up?” 

17 - Free Use | Alpha/Alpha | “I trust you.”

18 - Impact Play | Chastity Devices | “I want to try something new.” 

19 - Virginity Kink | Scene Negotiation | “You’re perfect for me.”

20 - Lingerie | Domming from the Bottom | “We need to leave right now.”

21 - Choking | Service Top | “We’ll take it slow until you’re ready.” 

22 - Thigh Riding | Subspace | “I’m going to ruin you.” 

23 - Object Insertion | Omega/Omega | “It’s so sweet when you beg for me.” 

24 - Cockwarming | Punishment | “Can you do that for me, darling?” 

25 - Slutpraising | Service Sub / Acts of Service | “You know how much I enjoy being tossed around.” 

26 - Public Sex | Masochism |  “Would you wear it for me?”

27 - Overstimulation | Subdrop / Domdrop | “Get on your knees for me.” 

28 - Safe Words | Sex Toys | “I need you to be as quiet as possible.” 

29 - Collaring | Alpha in Rut | “Are you just planning to watch, or are you going to join in?” 

30 - Sensory Deprivation | Sadism | “Baby, I need you to…” 

31 - Size Kink | Partially Clothed  | “I like your marks.”

#julykinkfest2023 #nsft #writing prompts #fests #honk zone

[wordsinhaled]

July Kinkfest Day 1 "You have to tell me what you want." | Begging | Degradation (this is what happens when I see a prompt list in the middle of the night while listening to Depeche...)

I'm a sucker for gentle dom Hob showing Dream it's okay to want things <3

-

"Use your words, love, remember?" Hob says, with the same unwavering patience in his voice, the same hint of fondness that is always there when he addresses Dream. "You have to tell me what you want."

In the Dreaming, Dream thinks, he would not need to speak.

Indeed, before the day he brought this ache that festers in him to Hob Gadling's doorstep, Dream had never thought he should have to utter a single syllable to receive anything he required or desired. He could bend his realm to his whim with hardly a thought. It scarcely warranted contemplating that he could ever be left wanting.

And yet... he wants. How he wants... The curve of Hob's smile and the warmth of his kind word; the easy shelter of his touch and the knowledge of his freely-shared joy. The planes and angles and secrets of him, the realness of his body, so different from the insubstantial artifice of Dream's own. All these Dream craves, and more. He could be insatiable were it not for Hob, who has learned him as much as he can be learned, who reads him as easily as if he were any tome in Lucienne's library, laid open for Hob's pleasure.

"You know what I want," Dream says, because Hob does. Hob knows full well. Dream's presence in the Waking world, in Hob's flat, at this hour, on this day of the year—so clearly shirking his duty to the delegation even now arriving at the palace gates—means just one thing. That Dream kneels willingly on the plush rug in Hob's bedroom, statue-still and patient, enduring as only an Endless can be, as good as announces his every intent for the evening.

But in this, Hob demands his articulation. He insists on honesty, precise and painstaking and painful, and settles for nothing less. He outwaits all Dream's petulant silences, evasive metaphors, expertly-placed ellipses.

Hob makes a soft, considering noise now, one Dream has heard him make countless times while choosing between two readings to assign for his next lecture, or what questions to put to his students on an exam. An utterly innocuous sound, though tonight Hob is deliberating which punishment he will dole out if Dream continues to be insolent.

"All the same," Hob says, with agonizing finality. "You know I've got to hear you say it, don't you, Dream."

There is a part of Dream that wonders how far he can push. Will it at last earn him Hob's disappointment, if he stays quiet? If he cannot, or does not, voice what he wants—what he needs? The facet of Dream that molds dreamstuff past the beautiful to the grotesque, that froths in the waves at the shores of the nightmare sea, whispers that he should find out.

But there is another part of him that is louder despite his reluctance, when he is here at Hob's feet, the core of him worn weary and diaphanous with longing.

"I want..." Dream pauses, deliberating. "You. I want you." He has not quite bent the rules.

It is, after all, the truth Hob asks for, distilled down to its essence.

#julykinkfest2023 #the sandman #dreamling #D/s dynamics #gentle dom hob

[thirtysixsavefiles]

July Kinkfest Drabbles Day 1 - Begging | Degradation | “You have to tell me what you want.” (Corintheus)

The stone floor is cold and hard beneath the Corinthian’s knees. Morpheus regards him from his throne, thoughtful and composed and if Morpheus thinks this is going to break him, the Lord of Dreams has another fucking think coming.

“My little dream.” Morpheus reaches out, stroking his fingers through the Corinthian’s hair, pulling a little at the end. “You have to tell me what you want.”

The Corinthian licks his lips. He can feel warm wetness running down his cheeks. “No.”

Morpheus smiles, and settles back. He crosses his legs, folds his hands in his lap. “Then I will wait.”

Other July Kinkfest 2023 Entries

#julykinkfest2023 #corintheus #the corinthian #dream of the endless #the sandman #my fic #i'm not committing but if i WERE committing i'd be doing these as drabbles #drabbles in the traditional 100 words exactly sense

[seiya-starsniper]

secret moments (shut in the heat of the afternoon) - Dreamling (AO3)

Rating: Explicit | Status: Complete | Chapters 1/1 | Words: 2K

Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics,Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, Post-Coital Cuddling, Possessive Alphas, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dream is still figuring out if he wants pups or not, In the meantime he unlocks some new kinks unintentionally, Breeding Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Domestic Fluff

Summary:

Having a heat partner, Dream realizes, makes everything about his constitution so much more enjoyable.

A short PWP set during Dream's heat in A Dream for a Viscount. They're horny and domestic and in love.

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My fourth work for @dreamlingforukraine, thank you for your support @mallory-x!

I had a ton of fun writing this and it actually helped me a lot with my writer's block for the next part of this series so BIG EXTRA THANKS for that 💖💖

Thanks @honeyteacakes for beta reading too! 💖💖

I'm accepting commissions in exchange for charity, see my Creator Post Here. Despite the naming convention, I'll accept both Dreamling and non-Dreamling commissions!

Edit: I'm no longer accepting commissions but please check out the blog to see who is!

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This fic is also being used as part of my @dreamlingbingo card for Square C1: Hand Feeding.

Also, because I can, I'm gonna tag #JulyKinkFest2023 since this does fill today's prompt for begging ;)

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #the sandman #nsft #seiya writes #julykinkfest2023 #omegaverse #omegaverse regency au #seiya writes dreamling #alpha hob #omega dream

[nyxneon]

Day 1 (yes I'm late, but I was at the rammstein concert yesterday...) - "You have to tell me what you want."

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: Rose Otoribashi/Izuru Kira (hints of others... blink and you'll miss it)

Rating: T (no real action...)

Words: circa 250

Warning: some OOC-ness, but it's referenced in the fic and it's intended this way.

Not beta-read...

Kira presses his body to his Captain, just like he would in the privacy of their shared quarters. He drags his lips from his neck down to the part of his chest left uncovered by the uniform, as if unaware of their actual setting, a meeting for Captains and Lieutenants to discuss what else is to be rebuilt and fixed after the war.

It’s something Izuru would have never dared before. He would have never even dared to imagine something like this.

But now he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have to pretend. Dead men have no shame. The Gotei 13 and the whole Seiretei can stare if they want. He doesn’t care about the other Captains and Lieutenants seeing.

Hisagi, of the 9th Division, doesn’t even spare a glance towards them; he knows more than most about Kira’s past – the damage he had endured by that walking disaster that was Captain Ichimaru  – and after all, his own experience is not so different…

There is a strange glint in Abarai’s eyes, a sort of hungry curiosity. Little Momo blushes, while Captain Hirako can’t prevent a knowing smirk. Rangiku jokingly puts her hands on her Captain’s eyes, murmuring that it’s stuff for the grown-ups.

Only Captain Commander Kyoraku has a wistful expression on his face, and no one has to wonder why.

Rose smiles, pleased by his Lieutenant’s unexpected boldness. “You have to tell me what you want” he whispers in Izuru’s ear.

#julykinkfest2023 #bleach fic #rosexkira #izuru kira #despair division #mine

[odekiisu]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock Characters: James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek) Additional Tags: Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Riding Crops, Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Telepathy, Masochist James T. Kirk Series: Part 2 of Masochist!Jim Summary:

It’s rather difficult to refuse Jim when he’s begging so nicely for a whipping.

A follow-up of sorts to Tender Loving Pain, though it isn’t necessary to read that in order to understand this (they're both PWPs after all)

#ode's writing #star trek tos #spirk #julykinkfest2023

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Days 7, 8, 9, and 10

The Sandman (human A/B/O AU) || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 3294 words

Prompts: Blood Kink | Omega in Heat | “What have you been up to without me?” | Piercings and Tattoos | Desperate Sex | “I’m going to take care of you.” | Denial | Roleplay | "Careful darling. You're this close to being pinned against the wall until you beg forgiveness." | Double Penetration | Phone Sex/Sexting | “Be a good boy/girl for me now.” 

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): Mafia Boss Alpha Hob, Gun Moll Omega Dream, they have always been humans, impact play, sex toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, shibari (mentioned), they are very very in love

Author's Notes: Four days, NINE PROMPTS. Buckle up, folks, this goes right into the smut and it doesn't stop. Little glimpses of background for these two thrown in there.

"Christ, just look at you. So wet and open for me… I wasn't gone but an afternoon, love. What have you been up to without me?" Hob trails his fingers through the sloppy mess that is his lover's ass, his fluttering hole crying in its need to be filled. "Oh, darling." Hob sighs and circles his thumb around the rim while palming one ass cheek. Then he drops his fingers between quivering thighs only to find folds that are impossibly more slick. "All this? For me?"

Dream moans something filthy, claws at the bed sheets and gets his knees under himself enough to sweet fucking Christ present his holes to Hob. "Please. I need…"

Hob pets his lover's lower back, soothing across the rear fetlocks of the enormous white horse coat of arms tattooed from the nape of his neck to the very first indent of the crease of his ass. Per chevron inverted sable and azure, a rampant horse argent the heraldry terminology floats across his mind as he shucks his clothes off. The entire device is shiny with sweat that gleams in the low light of their bedroom.  

"I got you. I am going to take care of you, don't worry." He gets the last of what he is wearing off and then heads to the drawers and grabs some supplies, which is when he realizes what is missing. “Oh, my Dream. Little pet. You used the teal one? Were you really that desperate for me?” When he turns back to the bed he can see it, wedged halfway beneath a pillow near Dream’s stretched out, grasping hands: the blue-green dildo that they had made from a mold of Hob’s erect cock, for Dream to have while he was away on business and couldn't risk bringing an omega, even his own omega, along. It has no knot though. That is for Hob and Hob alone. 

“Get up for a mo, pet. I need your help.” He instructs, dropping the items in his hands onto the foot of the bed. Hob stands there, knees pressed to the side of the tall mattress, as his gorgeous Dream complies. He strokes his cock lazily, admiring how Dream has to work so hard just to concentrate on this during the ramp up into his heat. Hob honestly did not mean to leave his sweet Dream in his time of need – he truly thought that he had at least another twenty-four hours before it got this bad. If managing cleaning up after the Corinthian hadn't taken up so much of his damned time he would have been here for when Dream… Fuck, Hob would put a contract out on the little shit again if he could. As it was he made a mental note to up the reward.

Finally, Dream is on his knees before him, facing him, waiting. His slim omega’s cock bounces a little with each panting breath, the ring hanging from his frenum piercing glinting in the moonlight streaming through their penthouse windows. Dream has put in work to gather himself together enough to be present for Hob right now – his instincts are no doubt pushing him towards incoherence. Even the ruby hanging from his one earring trembles. Hob cups his face in both hands and gives in to the temptation to kiss his love, who whimpers in pleased surprise. He maps Dream’s mouth slowly, until the need for air becomes more than a buzzing annoyance. “What was that for?” Dream’s voice is so low and sultry Hob feels it as much as hears it.

“I am endeavoring to make it up to you that I was gone when this started.” He strokes flushed cheekbones with his thumbs and watches as inky black eyelashes flutter like raven’s wings. “You know I wouldn’t leave you during a time like this on purpose, not without it being an intentional scene, right?” They have plenty of kinks, but that kind of denial is not generally one of them – abandonment isn’t the kind of pain Hob likes his omega to be in.

Dream’s blue eyes catch the moonlight like gemstones as they widen in surprise. “Of course, my love. I didn’t think any different.” 

“Good.” Hob runs his hands through Dream’s wild black hair and the lithe man leans into it, purring all the while. “That’s good. Well, since we are in this situation a little suddenly, lets make sure I can assist you properly.” He reaches down into the small pile on the bed and pulls out the two-inch wide strip of silicone and hands it to Dream. “Nice and tight now, darling. Need to be able to fuck you through at least four orgasms to bank this heat for you, you know that.”

His perfect pet hums in pleasure as he takes the silicone, wraps it around the base of Hob’s cock, and pulls it tight. “Tighter?” 

Hob's breath comes out in a shudder. “One more notch. Need it to keep my knot down until you are ready for it and you’ve already gotten me quite worked up tonight.” The pain of the wide cock ring preventing his knot from swelling will be its own sweet searing ecstasy as the evening progresses. 

The smirk that Dream levels at him is pure sin, even with lust giving a haziness to his eyes, as he pulls the cock ring tighter and secures the band. “Oh, have I?” Dream’s fingers find their way into Hob’s chest hair, combing through it while he turns those ridiculous bedroom eyes back up to Hob. He can see the subtle dusting of shadow on Dream’s lids from here, combining with the black liner to make him look like some Hollywood starlet all in black-and-white.

“Oh, have I?” Hob mocks, voice high-pitched and lilting. He grabs Dream’s waist and heaves, throwing him back onto the bed. “You know damn well what you’re doing.” He crawls up on top of his giggling lover. “I know I keep a clever omega.”

And he knows that his lover is a greedy, vain creature, so it is not shocking that he preens and arches prettily with the praise. “Well this clever omega is tragically empty and would like his alpha to get to fucking him until he can’t remember his name.”

“So demanding.” Hob grins and nuzzles under Dream’s jaw so he can mouth and nip along that gorgeous swan neck. “You are lucky I like your smart mouth.” He rocks his hips down to press their erections together, stopping any response Dream might have had as his long legs part immediately. Dream’s whine as he grabs at Hob’s shoulders is delicious – Hob can taste it on those plush peony lips as he repositions himself and sinks into the welcoming heat of his omega’s cunt.

The first round doesn’t last long for Dream, he is too worked up and Hob knows his body too well. He snaps his hips in hard, fast thrusts and twists his hand on Dream's cock just so and then he is letting out a sweet little shriek as he comes all over his own chest. 

“That take the edge off, darling?” Hob reaches backwards for the towel and does a quick clean-up while Dream just nods in reply. “Alright, be a good pet for me now and turn over, get that ass back up in the air.” Dream complies so easily it takes Hob’s breath away and he curls around his lover to kiss between his shoulder blades. When he speaks his lips caress the ears of the white horse on his lover’s back. “Be as loud as pleases you, my Dream. Peel the paint off the walls with your screams. I know you can. I want to hear you.”

Hob feels more than hears the chuckle given that Dream’s face is buried in the sheets. He reaches up for the discarded teal dildo and brings it back with him to kneel behind the curve of that lovely little ass. Dream is still absurdly open and wet, so Hob just lines the head of the shaft of silicone up and shoves it into Dream’s ass to the flared base in one go.

Dream’s entire body goes taut as he wails, “Yes!” And then Hob puts the tip of his actual cock back at the entrance to Dream’s cunt and the omega sobs. “Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease…”

“Well, since you ask so nicely.” Hob thrusts into the wet heat where he just was and it is like a different world. At this angle he reaches deeper, hits a spot in Dream's body that makes his moans hitch every time he drives in. And all along the way he can feel the dildo deep in Dream's ass, a solid mass that presses along the top of his dick, providing a different kind of stroking than the muscles clenching around him. 

He takes it slow, rolling his hips and talking filth into the safety of their bedroom. "Look at how easy you take two cocks. My god, you were fucking made for it, weren't you? Have you always been this greedy? Or is it just for me?" An incoherent string of consonants is Dream's only answer and it sends a shock of arousal down Hob's spine. His cock twitches, trying to leak fluid, but it can't. 

"I know pet, I know. You are still burning up, inside and out. How about another for me?" Hob gathers some of the copious amounts of slick streaming down Dream's thighs and then puts his hand back on Dream's prick. He strokes in time with his thrusting, being careful around the frenum ring, while he uses the thumb of his other hand to push the dildo in a little on each instroke. Each of Hob’s pulls back drags the dildo out a little with it, so he presses it in again as he rolls into Dream's cunt.

Hob revels in it, lets the steady rhythm build his own pleasure until his prick is throbbing with it not too long later. His knot tries to swell and presses against the wide ring of silicone and it causes a bright flash of pain to rocket up his spine. Hob groans with it, thrusts deeper, so Dream starts rocking with him, trying to keep the same angle.

Dream's next orgasm is longer and louder than the last and he makes a mess of the sheets. But Hob doesn't stop, just keeps thrusting through it all, torturing both Dream and himself into overstimulation. The omega wobbles beneath him and then collapses onto the bed, his body lax with pleasure as Hob keeps fucking him through the post-orgasm sensitivity, strong and steady until Dream’s voice is climbing in volume and pitch again. When Hob slips his thumb into Dream's ass alongside the dildo his sweet omega comes again, rutting into the mattress, voice cracking on a sob like glass under a hammer.

Hob hoists Dream's hips up to get a couple of pillows under him – he needs the angle even if his lover can’t hold it himself. As the dildo comes out it makes a lovely wet squelching noise, almost as arousing as his Dream's groan of "Noooo."

"Shhh, pet. Just need to tighten you up again. You fucked yourself so damned loose before I got home…" Hob grabs for the last three items on the bed. "Your cunt is never going to be able to hold the egg if you can't clench tight." He drops the dildo and grabs the leather paddle, a strip of thick leather about as big as Hob's hand with a wooden handle. Hob scoots back on the bed, giving him enough space to generate the velocity he needs in a single swing. "Ready, love?"

"Hnnnnnngh yes." Even Dream's voice is coming out lust-hazy now. Perfect.

Hob doesn't ease into it, just goes immediately for his usual impact strength, right on the curve of Dream's left asscheek. The leather's snappy slapping sound reverberates in the room along with Dream's ecstatic gasp. He hits the other side, watching as Dream's whole body tenses, jerks forward, then relaxes; Dream lets out a blissful sigh.

With one hand Hob pulls on the right cheek, just enough that he can see the wet hole fluttering. He watches, enraptured, as everything clenches with the next impact. And the next. And the next. Heaven above, even in this his omega is beautiful. 

Hob concentrates on hitting only one side first and then pauses to check his work. Dream is panting and trembling and moaning, his cunt leaking all over the pillows beneath him. When Hob sticks a finger into said cunt to see how the muscles have tensed he does so roughly, with all the gentleness one might use when stuffing a cornish hen with herbs and aromatics. Dream hisses, but then tries to push back, still desperate to be filled. "Pleasemorepleasemoreplease!"

The begging makes Hob's cock want to leak in sympathy, but it can only twitch in its bonds. It is starting to be more constantly painful the more aroused Hob gets, the longer he is denied release, and the adrenaline fuels him onward.

"Not until you tighten up for me, darling." Hob scolds. "Still too easy to get two fingers in you now, see?" He drives said fingers into Dream's ass with only passing resistance and Dream moans, the sound coming from deep in his chest, resonant and worshipful.

Hob pulls his fingers out and switches sides, holding the reddened asscheek back now, making Dream gasp and writhe. Then he is smacking the other side of Dream’s ass with equal force. After the first two, Dream is arching backwards towards Hob. "Harder, please! Give me all of you!" 

Oh. So that's how this is going to go. Hob adjusts his grip on the paddle's handle, takes a deep breath, and strikes Dream with all of his strength. 

The sound of leather hitting skin is almost deafening and his omega's sweet moans have turned into pleasured sobbing. On the next one Hob is watching as both Dream's cunt and ass clench so tightly fluid dribbles out from them. Gorgeous, just gorgeous. 

One more hit at maximum strength, just so Hob can see that deep body reaction again, and then Hob is praising Dream, "That's it dove. Almost done. So good for me." He knees Dream's thighs apart, pries his cheeks open as much as he can with one hand, and then uses just a flick of his wrist to smack the leather onto the little strip of flesh between Dream's vaginal opening and his asshole. He screams and Hob does it again, just a touch harder. The scream this time snaps at the end, a tree branch struck by lightning. "One more, baby." 

On the third hit Dream shrieks "Please fuck me! PleeeaaAAAAA-eh-eh-eeees!"

Ah, there it is. That’s the sound Hob fell in love with. He heard it across the room at a private party, that euphoric howl of an appeal to be filled, and had been drawn to it like a vulture to a carcass. The attendees at the party all knew who Hob was and they parted silently as he stalked forward. He found the ethereal source of that sound strung up in a complicated shibari scene, his ass being teased with a soft flogger. Miles and miles of milk white skin, not a scar nor a tattoo nor a piercing in sight, just dried blood smeared over his back from recent cuts and distilled omega perfection begging Hob for his attention.

He walked around to the omega’s head, crouched down in front of him to meet his eyes on the same level. The omega’s blue eyes were fogged shower glass, unseeing even while pointed at him. Hob snapped three times directly in front of the other man’s nose and, with a gasp, the pretty thing focused on him with bright, clear intention. “Wha-?” 

His voice was so much lower than Hob expected that it made him shiver. “Hello, gorgeous. Heard you begging to be fucked… any chance I can take you up on that offer?”

Hob couldn’t resist then and he can't resist now, his alpha desire for this omega bullying forward, and it takes a minute to remember his plan. He throws the paddle aside and flips Dream over, hefting one leg onto his hip. 

Dream is gasping, cock still hard and bobbing, dripping its mess all over. The impact play worked well, because it actually takes a little effort to pop the egg into Dream's cunt, but once Hob does and slips the little remote into his palm, it only takes turning the vibrator on to low and Hob's teeth gently tugging on the ring in Dream's frenum piercing to have him screaming into another orgasm. Hob gets around to catch this one in his mouth, sucking on the tip of his omega's elegant prick until Dream is sobbing again. 

When Hob moves above Dream, the omega growls, eyes almost completely black in their dilation, still burning with the increasing heat, and attempts to climb onto Hob, arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. 

Hob’s movements have become a little frantic now, he burns to be inside his Dream. So he coats his cock in the copious amounts of lubrication his omega’s body is providing, grabs bony hips, and fucks hard into the tight heat of his lover’s ass; he gets immediately drunk on Dream’s screams of encouragement.

Oh fuck, yeah, this is what Hob needs. He has pulled four orgasms out of his wildfire of an omega and now it is his turn. His cock is throbbing in its confines, impossibly hard, and he fucks with all his might into Dream and turns up the vibrations higher and higher and higher. He can feel the vibrator clear as day now, like there aren't walls of flesh between his cock and where it is nestled inside Dream. Even better, he’s found an angle where each thrust in rams the egg up into the underside of all that nerve-dense tissue behind Dream’s dick and his sweet whore omega is screaming himself hoarse with it.

On the next pull out Hob unclasps his cock ring and lets it fall beneath them, pulling his dick all the way out and getting Dream’s legs over his shoulders so he can bend his pretty little thing to his will. “Gonna knot your ass, darling.” He rumbles a warning and before Dream can respond Hob is fucking down into his omega, folding him in half so that he can nip at those pink lips, cracked and dry from all his howling. 

It only takes three thrusts and Hob’s knot is swelling along with his pleasure, both reaching a crescendo. On the fourth he is almost too wide at the base to get in and out. And then with the fifth drive in he is locked in place, his climax descending upon him violently as he roars into Dream’s jaw. 

Once he can hear more than the blood rushing in his ears, Hob realizes that his sweet Dream is begging again, voice rough and ragged, “Touch me, please please, let me come, please Hob.” 

“Christ on the cross, again, my love?” Hob pants, chuckling. But when Dream keeps pleading with him, he acquiesces, wraps his hand around his omega’s prick and brings him to one last orgasm without drawing it out or any fanfare.

It takes a little maneuvering, but Hob gets them lying curled on their sides, the omega’s cock finally soft and Hob buried into his lover for the next short while. Dream pulls Hob’s arm around his waist and interlaces their fingers. “Welcome home, love.” Dream coos.

Hob laughs into his lover’s hair and can only agree.

#Dreamling #A/B/O AU #Mafia Boss Alpha Hob #Gun Moll Omega Dream #julykinkfest2023 #NSFT #SO FUCKING NSFT #I probably shouldn't be putting 3k of fic directly on Tumblr but oh well #Pavonis writes

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Day 11: return of the Drummer/Dancer AU

The Sandman || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || ~900 words

Prompts: Temperature Play | Kink Discovery | “I want you to be loud for me.”

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): established relationship, cowgirl position

Author's Notes: Don't use regular candles for wax play without experience, there are candles specifically meant for play that burn at a lower temp... we are going to pretend that in this universe all candles are like that.

It happens as an accident. They have candles lit all over the inside of the parked vardo, including on the shelves that are around the bed. Perhaps not their smartest idea, but neither of them were engaging all their brain cells at that point.

Hob sees it happen, though, because he is lying on the bed as Dream rides him. He starts with this absolutely decadent slow rolling of his hips, stretching his arms and torso upwards, clearly trying to tease Hob and succeeding admirably. But they have raised the bed up in the past week to make room for more storage underneath and Morpheus misjudges and hits the edge of a shelf with his hand, knocking one tall tapered candle slightly askew

This doesn’t present itself as a problem until some thirty or so minutes later, when Dream has – finally, Hob groans – shifted to fucking himself on Hob’s cock hard and fast. See, that one candle has been dripping onto the shelf’s surface the whole time and now some wax flows over the edge and a big drop lands on his lover’s thigh. 

Dream freezes, eyes almost as round as the oh of his lips. His focus goes from Hob’s face to his thigh, where a spot of yellow wax has cooled to a solid. They both watch as a second drop falls – its impact makes Dream gasp and shiver. The third elicits a needy whine the catches in the back of Dream’s throat. 

Hob smiles and moves to peel off the re-hardened wax with his thumb. It leaves little rosy spots behind. “Some people like that, you know, find it erotic to have hot wax dripped on their skin. Other people like cold, like ice or a chilled touch. Would you like me to drip more on you?”

He thinks for a moment and Hob is proud of that, that his Dream won’t try something new like this lightly. But eventually he does whisper, “Yes, please.”

Hob reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a different candle, one shorter and therefore easier to control and brings it over Dream’s other thigh. He tilts the candle quickly, so that he minimizes how much drips down onto his own hand, and three drops hit pitpatpat in quick succession. 

Dream’s gasp slides into a moan. Hob can feel his lover’s whole body shiver all the way in his prick. Fuck.

He takes Dream’s left hand and turns it palm up, exposing the silk-smooth wrist and sensitive underside of his forearm. “Touch yourself, my sweet Dream,” Hob purrs, “Don’t worry about me, just leave my prick buried in you and touch yourself while I do this.” He lets the candle drip onto Dream’s wrist.

As soon as the wax hits his skin Dream fucks up into his hand, then sinks back down onto Hob with a groan, biting his lip to keep the sounds muffled. 

“Oh no, don’t you go stopping yourself now – want to hear you, want you to be loud for me, dove.” Hob says as he slowly drips more wax a drop’s width higher on his Dream’s arm. 

And so Hob sets the pace: each drop of wax lands just adjacent to the previous and with each one Dream thrusts up into his own hand with a gasp, then relaxes down onto Hob with a moan. Hob does three drops in a line across Dream’s arm, then moves a tiny bit up towards the elbow, another three drops, movement up. See, Hob knows that the inside of the elbow is going to be the most sensitive and he is looking forward to seeing his Dream howl when they get there. 

Hob increases the tempo, too, until Dream is just continually moaning, slack jaw keeping his mouth open, with a wrecked-sounding drop in pitch marking the nadir of their fucking. By the time Hob gets three-quarters of the way to the elbow Dream’s moans have started cracking when he fucks into his hand, so now the bard sings an ongoing undulating note. 

A few more drops and Dream’s thighs start shaking. “I… I’m gonna…” Hob skips an inch and drips directly inside the silver-white crease of his lover’s elbow and Dream shrieks “Hob!” as he comes all over his hand and Hob’s chest.

Dream’s pale chest is flushed and heaving, the hand that was on his cock now holding himself up on Hob’s shoulder. Hob uses his fingers to pinch the candle’s flame out and then lets the wax rod fall to the floor. He slides his hands up Dream’s firm thighs and grabs the curves of his hips. 

Hob lifts Dream a little and then shoves him back down onto his cock. “Fuck, my Dream. That was so gorgeous. Won’t take me long, just…” He repeats the motion, smacking Dream’s ass once on the upstroke to get him to clench. “Yeah, that’s it… just keep… UNF.”

Mischievous blue eyes smirk down at Hob. “Like this?” Dream contracts his core and pelvic floor muscles all at the same time and Hob feels like the wind is being punched out of him. 

“Yeah,” he manages to wheeze, “just keep oh fuckyes.” 

Dream’s body tightens around his cock in rapid pulses and he talks Hob through the last of it. “Yes, come undone for me. Come for me, lover. Let me hear you, too.” That kicks Hob over the edge – with a rumbling groan he snaps his hips up into Dream and comes, pleasure flowing over and through him in silver-edged waves. 

The wet noise of Dream pulling off of Hob is loud in the small room. Even louder is the chuckle that Hob follows it with. “So, seems like we have a new game?”

Dream stretches himself out along Hob’s side, heedless of the mess on Hob and their sheets. “We definitely have a new game.”

#Dreamling #drummer/dancer au #julykinkfest2023 #The Sandman AU #Pavonis writes

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Day 6: Drummer/Dancer AU edition!

The Sandman || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 1062 words

Prompts: Praise Kink | Bruises | “Anyone could walk by and see what a little slut you’re being right now.” 

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): sexual harassment, possessive Hob, semi-public sex, marking/biting kink

Author's Notes: It was more difficult to get all three prompts in here than I thought it would be. And the last one is paraphrased (hence not bolded, but also not crossed out). And, yes I am over 1000 words, BUT it gets you sassy Desire+Hob banter at the end, so I had to do it.

"You needn’t have come to my defense." Morpheus sighs, gathering the components for the healing spell for Hob. Two stunning black eyes have already bloomed on his lover’s face as a result of his need to be Morpheus’ savior, he doesn’t need to suffer any longer than necessary. “It happens quite often.” He murmurs the incantation while holding the components, then presses his fingers to Hob’s face just as the other man is opening his mouth to reply. “And no, of course that doesn’t mean it should happen at all, but the fact of the matter is that it does and I no longer think much of it. And neither should you.”

They had met another caravan just at the edges of the Southern Wastes and so, as tradition dictated, they made camp and made for revelry. The other group had been primarily sellswords, with the temperament and manners to match every possible stereotype therein. So, well into their cups, a few of them had started making lewd comments, heckling Morpheus and the others as they danced. And Hob had held steady, continuing his drumming through it. But then one particularly brash idiot had smacked Morpheus' ass as he passed by and… well. Hob is apparently willing to use his hands to back up the possessive he uses when calling Morpheus his Dream.

Morpheus would never admit out loud that Hob's response thrills him, makes him feel justified in his disgust at the sellswords' behaviors and makes him feel like he is something worth defending. 

“I refuse to let people think that they can get away with treating others like that, whether it is you or not.” Hob’s voice is becoming less nasal by the second as the broken bones and cartilage reset themselves. “It was just worse that it was you.”

Hob is giving Morpheus a look that he can't interpret. "What?" He finishes putting away the odds and ends of the spell and turns to his lover. "You want congratulations?" Morpheus pitches his voice up a register. "Oh, thank you, Robert Gadling, my hero." He puts the back of his hand to his forehead and swoons into Hob's lap, which gets the slightest hint of a smile, the crows' feet at the corners of Hob's eyes just beginning to appear. This only encourages the bard. "Thank the Nine you were here or whatever would I have done? I am so helpless and vulnerable!" He bats his eyelashes at Hob and that does it, the drummer cracks, a rolling laugh bubbling up.

Hob's arms wrap around his Dream's waist and he pulls him into a kiss. "Alright, alright. I get it. Point made. You aren't some pampered damsel." He tugs on Morpheus' hips until he is straddling Hob's lap on the medic’s exam table. 

"Hob. We are in a public space." Morpheus knows that his words contrast strongly with how he arches into Hob's mouth on his collarbones. "Hob!"

"You taste so good. All for me." Hob murmurs into his skin, seemingly ignoring Morpheus' protest. The bard's hands are in Hob's braided hair and he is rolling their hips together. "So good for me, my Dream." The breathy words curl around Morpheus' neck and he can't stop the whine that slides out through his clenched teeth. He desperately wants to be good for Hob. "Yeah, I know you like that. Just a few words and the right touches and you go all perfectly pliant in my hands. Yeah, that's my good, sweet Dream."

Oh. Oh fuck. Hob has found these weak points in Morpheus’ armor and has zero compunction about using them to his advantage. His hips, his whole body really, rocks into Hob, who grabs his ass in both hands, digs his fingers in, and pulls Morpheus’ cheeks apart through his clothing. Morpheus arches, holding on to Hob’s head, pressing his nose into his sternum, as he ruts against Hob’s chest and lets out a little choked off cry. 

“By the gods, listen to you sing. Choirs of astrals don’t sound so sweet.” Morpheus gasps as Hob just continues, sucking and biting marks into his neck in between sentences. “Nor do they sound so wanton. But you cannot resist, can you?” Morpheus trembles as he shakes his head. No, he has found he cannot resist Hob, cannot stop his body and mind from swaying towards him like a flower to the sun, from listing into each touch like he is starved for it. “Anyone could walk into this tent at any moment and you just want to bounce on my cock like the pretty little whore that you are…”

“Yes!” Morpheus moans and then Hob is lifting him, flipping him, pressing his face down into the table and tugging his pants down his thighs. 

He hears the soft pop of a cork and then slick sounds – Hob’s hand on his own dick, and then ohfuckyes Hob’s oiled hand is on Morpheus’ prick and he muffles his groan by biting his fist. “I keep oil in my pocket now, because of you, my sweet slut, my Dream. Never know when I am going to have to-” Hob thrusts into Morpheus with a grunt “-fill your needy hole.”

This must be what going insane feels like, Morpheus is sure. They fuck fierce and fast and he knows nothing but pleasure and the sound of Hob’s voice behind his ear, whispering filth the entire time. 

When Hob comes he buries himself so deep Morpheus swears he feels it punching a hole in his lungs, rearranging things in the back of his throat. 

"Mark me. Please." He hears himself beg, voice reedy and he is so so close. So close that as soon as Hob's teeth find the meat of his shoulder Morpheus climaxes, head snapping back in a silent scream, body tightening so violently that Hob's seed gushes down his thighs. 

They collapse, panting.

The quiet lasts only a moment and then Epithumia's voice rings from outside the tent. "While we all appreciate Hob's prowess in dicking down our eldest brother, my siblings and I would like to request you restrict your satyric ferret escapades to inside structures with walls made of materials more substantial than canvas."

Hob chuckles, still a little breathless. "Way to be a wet blanket, Epi."

"You've done enough blanket wetting for the both of us, drummer boy..." is the last thing they hear before footsteps fading away.

#julykinkfest2023 #Dreamling #Drummer/Dancer AU #The Sandman AU #I can't get enough of these idiots #Pavonis writes

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Day 1

The Sandman || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 559 words

Prompts: Begging | Degradation | “You have to tell me what you want.” (I'll call this inspired by all three prompts, but the first is the big one here.)

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hob gets to be dark (as a treat), D/s (if you squint), would be eventual D/s if I kept writing, Hob uses magic, what if dark!Hob is the one who captures Dream in 1916?, what if Dream is already thinking about planning for the events in The Kindly Ones?

Author's Notes: Eh, a day late. This went a completely different direction as I was writing it. Like, screeching tires change in direction. But I like it, despite it only being kinky if you squint. Don't worry, Day 2 will be kinky enough for both of the posts.

“Never.” His Stranger snarls, leaning forward to pull against the bindings on his wrists. The runes carved into the simple leather cuffs burn gold and the captive sinks back against the wall with a hiss.

“Never say never,” Hob sings, purposefully off-pitch and off-putting. “Over five-hundred years you have made a fool of me – no more, darling.” He shakes his head as he paces. “No more.”

Stars in the void-black eyes follow Hob back and forth, but he says no more. Pity, that. 

“You are the one who gave me this gift. You are the one who spurned my friendship. You are the one who will suffer the consequences.” Hob stops and turns to stand facing his Stranger. “This is, in no uncertain terms, your fault, my dear.”

The captive lifts his lip in a sneer and his rage radiates off of him in tangible waves. They crash up against the darkness seething out of Hob and create visible sparks. 

Hob takes a half-step towards the captive and his darkness expands, curling along the floorboards, seeking out their target. His power pushes against the aura around his Stranger, eating away at it, like acid. Those black-space eyes narrow at him.

Another half-step forward and more of his Stranger’s aura is degraded. It is a slow erosion, but he has time. Hob has nothing but time.

Another half-step. Then another. Successive constricting circles of power ring around his Stranger and Hob is honestly surprised it is this easy to trap an Endless.

Unless… 

Hob inches forward once more and inhales sharply. Now that he is feeling for it, it is obvious. 

It is Hob’s turn to snarl as he surges forward, closing the distance and grabbing his Stranger by the hair, pulling with enough force to snap his head back so that he has to look up at Hob from where he is forced to kneel. “You are letting this happen, Dream of the Endless!" He was hoping to extract that name from his Stranger by force, but his anger overwhelms his plans. "You allow my power to gnaw away at yours. Tell me what your game is!” 

They stare at each other, Hob panting with the physical exertion of maintaining his hard-won magicks. The panting means that Hob’s lips are already parted when Dream surges upwards and covers Hob’s mouth with his. 

For a moment Hob gives in, swaying into everything he has ever wanted, and then he stumbles backwards with a shout. “What the fuck?”

“Capture me.” Now Dream is panting, body trembling with emotion. “I don’t want this any more. I can give you the power.” He strains against the cuffs again, tilting all of himself towards Hob, and while the runes light up once more, Dream does not hiss in pain. “The ruby around my neck. Take it. I will show you how to master its power. I will show you how to use it to master me.” 

Hob has no idea how long he watches with wide, unbelieving eyes as his Stranger tries desperately to get across the floor to him. 

Eventually even the Endless sags down, arms held limply aloft by the cuffs chained to the wall. The sound Dream lets out is something Hob absolutely refuses to believe is a sob. 

Except then Dream, his Stranger, whispers, “Please, Hob. Please take me away.”

#Dreamling #dark!Hob #Hob can be dark (as a treat) #Hob Gadling #Dream of the Endless #The Sandman AU #Pavonis writes #julykinkfest2023

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Day 2

The Sandman || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 893 words

Prompts: Edging | Comeslut | “Show me what’s in your bedside drawer.”

Warnings: edging, face-fucking, sex in the Dreaming, Dreaming sex is different than Waking World sex, copious amounts of cum, Dream is a little shit and Hob loves him for it

Author's Notes: If I can keep all of these under 1000 words it will be a godsend.

Dream clamps down his hand around the base of Hob’s cock once more, just to hear what new obscenities he comes up with this time. He has been reading more in Latin recently, looking at some original religious texts that Lucienne pointed him to in the Dreaming’s library, and what pours out of his mouth now probably has made even Lucifer’s ears burn. 

“What do they say?” The Dreamlord hums with an exaggerated tap to his chin. “Fourteenth time is the charm?”

Hob sags against his chest, head lolling back onto Dream’s shoulder. “You fucking well know no one says that.” He manages to speak between trembling breaths. “You are also fucking lucky that I cannot get blue balls in the Dreaming. Christ, how long have we been at it?”

“Time is not your concern, pet.” Dream licks at the new beads of sweat rolling down Hob’s neck. “And we won’t have to do this once you learn how to better control your body in the Dreaming.” He considers biting along the same path.

Hob laughs as he bares his neck to his lover’s questing teeth. “Oh, blame this on me, do you, King of the Cumsluts? As if I am the one who wants me to blast into your face with enough volume and velocity to give you a sinus headache? To bruise your uvula?”

“Hob,” Dream tries to keep a scolding tone to his voice but he is pretty sure his smirk pushes its way through. “I do not have sinuses. Nor a uvula.”

“Oh for fuck’s…” Hob gets up and turns so that he is sitting on Dream’s thighs, arms resting on his shoulders “Give me that smart mouth.” He pulls Dream into a sloppy wet kiss, sucking on that silver tongue. When they pull apart with a pop Hob is grinning. “Let’s do this.”

Dream lets Hob push him back on the bed, until he is lying down, and watches Hob crawl up to sit on his marble-smooth chest. Looking up at Hob like this is dizzying, his lover towering over him like a lust-addled sun-god. For a moment the Lord of Dreams imagines he is a vampire, his entire body igniting from being in the solar brightness of Hob’s presence. 

Being on top of Dream is always a heady feeling for Hob, feeding on the power that Dream is willingly giving up for a short time. And, further, knowing that the reason that the King of Nightmares does this is because he absolutely cannot get enough of Hob fucking his face… well. Sometimes a man’s dreams do come true.

Dream starts pawing at Hob’s hips and Hob lets himself be pulled down into his lover’s mouth with a swiftness that makes his eagerness glaringly obvious. Watching Dream’s eyes go blurry while he moans around a cock buried deep into his throat might be Hob’s favorite single activity in the entire universe. 

Hob rocks his hips once, a slow roll, and gets a sharp smack to his ass for his efforts.

“My god you are such a brat.” He pushes up on his arms and pulls all the way out, until the head of his cock is painting pre on Dream’s lips. “Lucky you look so good gagging on my cock…”

“Hob.”

He feels more than hears Dream’s growl, which only serves to make him chuckle. “Alright, dove. Alright. I get it.” Dream laps at the liquid beading rapidly at the tip of Hob’s prick and Hob shivers. “I’ll take care of you.”

Dream parts his lips and finally, finally, Hob’s hips snap down, ramming his dick into Dream’s throat so hard that it chokes off the ecstatic scream. 

Hob has been brought close to and then held back from orgasm too many times to make this last, but that isn’t exactly the point. What Dream really wants is to basically drown in Hob’s cum, pretending for a moment that such a thing is possible. He has found through trial and error that by edging Hob enough in the Dreaming, he can trick Hob’s subconscious into producing an extreme amount of fluid. 

The bed shakes beneath them as Hob slams home harder once, twice, and comes on the third, with a roar that probably rattles the lamp on Lucienne’s desk. 

Cum, scalding and bitter, floods into Dream’s body, down into both stomach and lungs and up into sinuses that he only moments earlier decided would be there. It burns and it overflows around his lips and it is blissfully perfect because every one of his senses are, for one moment, painted over with an overwhelming feeling of Hob.

When Hob’s cock is gone Dream starts coughing, so Hob moves fast to wrap a hand around Dream’s dick. It only takes two pumps before the coughing turns into wet garbled moans and Dream is staining the black sheets with long stripes of white. 

Hob curls around Dream’s back and brushes his inky hair back from his face until his body settles and he has the wherewithal to roll over to face Hob. 

“You spoil me, my pet, my heart.” He croons, voice roughened a touch because he likes the way it makes Hob’s pupils dilate. “That was lovely.” 

Hob hums in agreement, already feeling the tug of wakefulness and therefore drifting away from this moment. “See you soon, my Dream.”

#Dreamling #julykinkfest2023 #nsft #read the warnings #The Sandman #Hob Gadling #Dream of the Endless #Pavonis writes

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Day 20: Star Trek AU

The Sandman (Star Trek human AU) || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 4k words

Prompts: Lingerie | Domming from the Bottom | “We need to leave right now.” (maybe the middle one if you take a different direction with it?)

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): Star Trek AU, Star Trek Discovery seasons 1 & 2 minor references (you don't need to know any Star Trek to enjoy!), mostly I just love an excuse to put Ash Tyler in anything, Getting Together, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Rimming, Cowgirl Position, Idiots in Love, they are both unhinged for each other

Author's Notes: Inspired to finally do a Star Trek AU because Dr_Lecteur wrote this

Read below or on AO3.

He has officially reached his breaking point. He has been in love with the Chief Security Officer on his ship for a total of one thousand nine hundred eighty nine days.

Yes. He has been counting. 

It is time, as his friend Matthew would say, for extreme measures. 

Because he has it on the word of at least a half dozen other friends and crewmates, people whose opinion he actually trusts, that no, Dream is not imagining it, and yes, Hob is interested, and no, Hob doesn't consider everything Dream has done so far as enough of a 'first move' to overcome his anxiety about being Dream's superior officer, even if they are in different departments.

So when the crew finally gets a week of shore leave at Starfleet HQ because the ship is being refitted with updated nacelle architecture, Lieutenant Commander Morpheus Endless, known as Dream to his friends, decides to draw of a new definition of extreme in terms of seduction techniques.

Dream is nursing a brandy at the bar of the 602 Club just on the outskirts of the Academy. He knows that Commander Gadling will meet his friends here after he stops by to say hello to one of his old professors. He knows that in nineteen minutes, when the dancefloor in the basement opens up, one of Gadling’s friends from his Academy days is going to be the opening DJ. And he knows that Hob has a very specific kink that happens to fit under a tailored suit. All of these things he has learned not from his Section 31 connections – which he damned well could have used, you're welcome for the restraint – but from being a close enough friend shipside to get invited to parties where Hob lets his hair down.

He watches as Hob arrives without much fanfare, meets up with some friends who work at HQ, people who he hasn’t seen in a long time, clapping shoulders and giving hugs and offering cheers for being on leave. Laughing, they head downstairs. The rumble of the bass is just starting to make it up through the floor.

Downing the last of his drink in one swig, Dream follows.

As he slides through the crowd to head to the stairs Dream unbuttons the top two buttons of his black shirt and rolls up the sleeves to his elbows – not only is he going to be sweating while he is down there, but he is quite sure that Hob has never seen so much of his skin. Just one more weapon in his arsenal.

Dream prowls along the edges of the dancefloor, already thrumming with a small group of people that is getting bigger by the second. He can see Hob’s head bobbing amongst them, flashing lights making his hair gleam with amber and brass. He gives the man a few minutes to enjoy his friends, because Dream has every intention of thoroughly distracting Hob away from them. He will figure out how to make it up to Hob later. Much later.

He is a predator waiting for his opening. He feels terribly alive in this moment, aware of his blood and his breathing and his skin and his saliva. The crowd grows. The three fingers of liquor buzz pleasantly in his veins. The crowd grows further. The room gets hotter with the warmth of bodies. Dream starts sweating. The music is resonating in his chest and he is all coiled muscle and ready. Then he sees Hob with his head thrown back, lost to the music, and Dream pounces.

It is easy to slide through the writhing bodies when he is so focused on his target; physical contact with strangers is the least of his worries right now. He circles around to come up behind Hob, puts his hand gently on Hob's bicep and leans in to speak next to his ear. “Might I have this dance?”

Dream knows his expression is smug as Hob nearly jumps out of his skin, twisting around at the same time that he yelps “Dream!” Then the Commander takes in his friend and colleague with an obvious look up and down. To Dream's thrill, he watches as Hob blushes. “Holy shit! Dream? What are you…”

He puts his bare forearms on Hob’s shoulders and looks at him through his lashes. “I am asking you if you want to dance with me.”

“Dream!” Hob chuckles, nervous, but does not back away. “Christ, are you wearing eyeliner?”

“Yes.” He dismisses the question quickly as he steps in, maybe an inch between their bodies now. “Do you. Want to.” Hob is watching his lips and he has to stamp down a smile. “Dance. With me.”

“Fuck.” Hob hisses and wraps an arm around Dream’s waist, pulling them flush. It is like an ocean wave crashing into his body, a force of nature, flowing into and up his torso, eroding away any barriers Dream has left. “Yes. Of course I want to dance with you, you absolutely irresistible, gorgeous personification of hedonism. I have wanted to touch you from the moment we met.” 

So long? Dream shivers with the excitement that his feelings are reciprocated. And the anticipation of what awaits them. “Then touch.”

Hob moans and buries his face in Dream’s neck, grinding their hips together in time with the beat. He doesn’t kiss or bite, just breathes and presses them close. But he doesn’t touch. Not like Dream wants him to.

Dream drops his hands to Hob’s wrists. “I said,” he moves one hand to grope his chest and the other to grab his ass, “touch.”

“Fucking hell,” Hob swears into Dream’s ear, breath heavy. “Who are you and where did you put my friend Dream?”

“This version of your friend has always been here. Waiting for you.”

Hob chuckles and it vibrates through Dream’s chest, a rush of warmth. “So you are saying I have been an idiot.”

Dream smiles. He pulls on Hob’s hair, pulling him back so that they are nose-to-nose, breathing on each other’s lips. “You are only an idiot if you stop.” 

Hob melts into Dream’s kiss, paws at Dream where his hands were placed, and Dream feels the exact moment that he realizes it – Hob’s entire body stutters and he pulls back from the kiss with a gasp. “Oh no. Oh fuck. Did you? Are you?”

He responds with a smirk and unbuttons more of his shirt, enough to bare his shoulder and one pectoral. The black lace and red satin of the bra stand out in stark contrast to his alabaster skin, pale from a life almost entirely on starships. 

For a moment Hob just stares at the garment, mouth agog. Then he is dragging Dream by the hips through the crowd growling, “We need to leave. Right. Now.”

They are in Dream’s temporary dirtside quarters so fast they might as well have beamed over. Hob slams him into the wall as soon as the door whooshes shut, the impact hard enough to cause the digital picture in the wall to flicker. Dream snarls and shoves back, driving Hob into the wall opposite and knocking a vase and flowers off the small table. 

“Fuck me.” Hob gasps, pulling Dream’s shirt hem from being tucked inside his charcoal trousers. The motions are jerky and frantic and the last button just zings across the room as he reveals Dream’s torso and pulls the shirt off of his arms. Hob’s hands burn as they stroke from shoulder to hip, down once, then back up. “Fuck me.” 

Dream fists both hands in the sweat damp umber hair and yanks Hob’s head back so that he can look into his eyes. “Actually, I was thinking the other way around. Would you let me strap you down? Could I tie you to my bed and ride you, Hob?”

Hob’s kiss is biting, a pact made in blood. “Yes. Fuck yes.” Dream may be taller but Hob easily lifts him and maneuvers further into the apartment. “Anything. I will do anything for you. You perfect fucking dream.”

Suddenly the bed is beneath them and Dream is straddling Hob’s lap and he can only smirk as he shimmies his trousers down. Beneath the charcoal wool is more black lace and red satin – garters, thigh-high stockings, and panties. Hob makes this nasal, desperate noise, so Dream backs away, stands up and lets the pants drop as he kicks off his boots. Then he turns around to show Hob his ass.

“You glorious minx, Holy Christ.” Hob’s large hands are bracketing Dream’s hips pulling him in between Hob's knees. Fingers travel over the exposed skin of his ass, not pushing in between but almost, confirming that yes, he is exposed from waistband to balls. “You are gonna ride me with all this on, aren’t you? Is that your plan?"

"Have to get your clothes off first but y-aah!" Dream is flung to the bed on his back and Hob is shucking off clothes as fast as a cadet getting out of full formal dress. Then he is over at the replicator and back with lube before Dream finishes laughing.

"I'm gonna leave you to getting any tying down supplies, since you sound like you know what you are doing and I decidedly don't."

Dream watches, soaking in the view of Hob naked as he kneels beside him on the bed. "Are you asking if I am an experienced dom?" He trails his own hand from collarbone to thigh, back up, preening under the rapt attention from Hob. "Yes, I am, which is why I won't be tying you down tonight. We can negotiate that at another time. I am too desperate to get your cock in me to have a proper talk." 

Hob drops down onto all fours over Dream, cups his jaw and plunders his mouth. "How can you just say shit like that?" He is trailing little bites and kisses down Dream's neck and he arches into it, holds on to Hob's shoulders like a lifeline, fingers sliding in the sweat building there. "You are going to be the death of me."

"Can we please leave my sister out of this?" Dream growls as he pushes himself up, wraps a leg around Hob's hips, and twists, rolling the other man under him. Hob grunts as he is pressed onto his back and drags Dream into another round of kissing. "Now pay attention, this question is important,” Dream says, pulling away even when Hob whines with the loss, “Will you let me sit on your face so you can open me up with your tongue?"

The moan Hob gives is something out of pornography; Dream would have thought it faked if he wasn’t watching as his lover’s eyes went hazy and his whole body shook. Hob can’t even get out words, although his throat seems to try. Then more kissing, getting sloppier and more uncoordinated by the second. 

“Is that a yes?” Now Dream is just being a brat. He knows it. That isn’t going to stop him. If for some reason this is the only time he gets Hob in his bed he is going to damned well enjoy every second of it, smug bastard that he is. "Use your words, lover."

"Yes. Yes, get up here. Yes." Hob starts scrabbling at Dream's thighs, tugging him up the bed and snapping the garters in the process. 

Dream has a moment where he considers turning around so that he might more easily touch Hob, bring him pleasure – but no, he hasn't earned his pleasure yet. When Dream settles his calves parallel to Hob's ears, Hob makes an inquiring sound, nudging Dream's feet with his biceps. 

"Give me a proper rimming and maybe I will deign put my hand on your cock." Hob whimpers beneath him, but brings both hands up to cradle Dream's hip bones. "And keep your hands there, pet. No touching yourself and ruining all the fun.”

Hob sounds like he wants to respond but doesn't get a chance to because Dream grabs the top of the headboard and drops his body down onto Hob’s mouth. 

Hob takes the cue and dives in, zero hesitation, neck arching so that he can get a better angle, fingers digging around Dream’s hips so he can pull himself up and in. A few long flat swipes of his tongue over Dream’s hole then he is stabbing inwards, twisting and curling his tongue to pet and stroke where the skin turns smooth and wet and sensitive.

Dream cries out, grasps at words, trying to encourage, but finding only vowels can escape. Oh fuck, Hob knows well what he is doing, has clearly had practice in this type of sex, and sweet Christ he wishes that he had Hob’s cock in his mouth. It would sit heavy on his tongue and he could drive it deep enough to close off his airway, make himself even dizzier using Hob’s body. Instead, Dream grinds down onto Hob’s chin with an ecstatic, drawn out “Aaaaaaa!” 

A pleased moan rumbles from Hob’s throat up Dream’s spine, making him snap his head back and sob to the ceiling. And still Hob pulls him down further, pushes himself deeper. Dream’s grip on his hair is no doubt painful, and the way he has started fucking himself down onto Hob’s tongue might bruise his nose, but this is what they have advanced medicine for. Death no longer even asks when he shows up in medbay, him or his partner looking fucked five ways to Sunday and asking for a quick heal-up. 

Fuck it. Dream wants to come like this, Hob’s tongue and lips and teeth buried in his ass, rutting down onto his face slick with spit. It feels too goddamned good not to. So he shoves the panties down, grabs his prick in his fist, and fucks up into it as he rocks down onto Hob’s tongue and yes, there just like that. He comes all over the headboard, multiple spurts creating tangled stripes of his seed across the metal, and then he is empty, so empty, it is an ache he needs to fill and suddenly Hob’s tongue is nowhere near enough.

With a growl Dream is crawling backwards and now here is the benefit of this position because can grab the lube from where it has rolled to sit against Hob’s waist, continue backwards and he only needs to slather Hob’s cock liberally before he can sink down onto it and yes, oh yes. That. There.

Hob has barely caught his breath when Dream impales himself and he sounds like he has gone six rounds of bareknuckle boxing in three seconds. Looks it, too – all wide-eyed and sweaty, jaw slack and hair mussed to all hell, gaze unable to quite focus as his chest heaves. It takes a moment, but then Hob closes his eyes and smiles, laughing breathlessly as he swipes his fingers across the headboard and then brings his cum-smeared hand to his mouth. “Mmmm, you came riding my face.”

Now fully seated, Hob’s cock buried to the hilt, Dream stretches forward, sliding his hands up Hob’s belly and into his chest hair and over his shoulders. “That wasn’t my original plan, but yes. Felt too good not to.” 

He pushes a hand into Dream’s hair, pets him. It is soft and affectionate and makes warmth bloom again in Dream’s pelvis. “Glad to know all that practice I got during my Academy days didn’t go to waste.” 

Dream smiles, truly smiles, not something snarky or smug, and runs his fingertips over Hob’s lips. Hob nips at them once and Dream flicks his nose in return, both of them huffing out laughter. He is happy here, Dream realizes, stretched around Hob’s cock and across his chest, so, of course, his mouth goes and tries to do something exceptionally, extraordinarily stupid. “I luh–” 

Dream slaps his hand over his mouth so hard it makes his teeth rattle and freezes. Too much. Always too fucking much. And now he’s gone and ruined it again and maybe he should just give up and go full spy like Ash is always trying to convince him – just disappear into the ether never to be heard from again. The Section can always use innovative neuroengineers like you, Dream. Ash says as he smiles that fucking charming ass smile. And I can always use a good deep dicking to keep my head on straight during tense missions. First Officer with benefits?

He closes his eyes and shoves the image of Commander Tyler away. Big brown eyes and a roguish smile always were his biggest weaknesses.

Hob wraps an arm around Dream and levers them both up, up until Dream is sitting in his lap and he is reminded that yes, he still has Hob’s fucking lovely cock inside him. He keeps his eyes wrenched closed, can’t bear to look at him as he whispers, “I’m so–”

“So help me god if you apologize right now Dream...” Dream’s eyes slam open and his mouth snaps shut. Hob gently removes Dream’s hand from his mouth and threads their fingers together. “Do you have any fucking idea how many of your friends and exes I have talked to while trying to figure out how to catch you for myself? Now who is too much, eh?”

Dream blinks about a hundred times in rapid succession. “You…”

“Please,” Hob presses their foreheads together, “please don’t stop. Just let me make love to you once. Then we can put all of our cards on the table and see if our baggage matches up.”

Make love to you. Dream cups Hob’s sticky face with his free hand and smiles. “That metaphor makes no sense.” 

Hob’s relief is palpable as he presses their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. “I am so worked up you are lucky I am even vaguely coherent.”

A smirk is back on Dream’s face, “So I shouldn’t do this?” Dream clenches down with his pelvic floor muscles.

“Fucking hell.” Hob lowers himself back to the bed and rolls his hips up into Dream, whose eyes flutter with the sliding sensation. “Only do that if you want me spent in 30 seconds. But if we play this just right,” Hob rolls up again and forces a soft unf from Dream, “I can fuck you into another orgasm so we can go together.”

They are rocking into each other, slow gentle movements that set Dream’s nerve endings on fire. “And what do you know of my refractory period?”

“Darling, I’ve spoken with both Calliope and Ash. Who send their blessings for us, by the way.” 

“Traitors.” Dream says with exactly zero heat behind it, speeding up slightly and then leaning back. He puts his hand below his navel, snaps his hips down and imagines he can feel Hob’s dick buried in him. The image, of Hob filling him, thrusting deep into the guts of him, shoots arousal into every limb and he starts fucking himself harder, but with a steady slow pace. 

He loves this, the ebb and flow of a lover into and out of his body, could do this for hours if given the chance. Once, years ago, a relatively unobservant dom tried to use this as torture when Dream got it in his head to sub for her, only to find him coming for the fifth time, completely dry, not a drop of liquid left in his cock or balls, screaming in ecstasy. 

Hob’s hands are everywhere, petting every inch of skin he can reach, running over the lingerie and sliding beneath it, but never even grazing Dream’s half-hard cock. Speaking of traitors. 

"So beautiful." Hob whispers, almost reverent. Dream can feel the flush bloom on his cheeks, but sitting astride Hob leaves him no place to hide, so he looks away. Only to have a firm hand turn his face back to forward. “No. None of that. You are. Come on, dove, let me see you.” He tugs at the band of the bra. It is quick work for Dream to unlatch it, shrug it off and Hob is grinning stupidly by the end. “You did that real fast. Like you do it all the time.” His hands roam up Dream’s thighs and snap the garters. “How often are you wearing these while on duty, Dream?”

Dream doesn’t answer, just starts moving faster, breathing puffing with exertion now. He caresses his stomach and chest again, pinches one of his nipples with his fingers until Hob bats him away to do it for him. He keeps tugging and twisting, harder and harder, alternating between them, until they are deep pink and Dream is crying out above him. 

Finally, he is bouncing himself in earnest, hard cock bobbing with it, and Hob grabs one of his hips to hold on as he starts thrusting up to meet him. The slapping of their skin is loud in the small room – Dream can hear it even over the sound of his own moans and wails. It is so good. Better than good. It feels like Hob goddamned well belongs there, stuffed inside Dream, laid out between his legs, moaning his name from scream-chapped lips. 

Hob goes to grab for Dream’s dick and he smacks his hand away. “Absolutely not. Wait until I tell you.” 

“Oh fuck.” He watches as Hob’s eyes close and he starts gripping Dream’s hips hard enough to bruise. “I’m close. You better… soon…”

Dream leans back again, changing the angle and ramming his prostate directly onto the head of Hob’s cock. “Yes! Yeessss. Just let me… oh fuck yes.” Again. And again. And again. And again. And, “Now Hob!” 

Hob grabs Dream’s cock, too tight and perfect and Dream fucks up into that calloused fist just once before he is screaming out his orgasm, hands reaching back to claw up the backs of Hob’s sweaty, furred thighs. Streaks of white shoot onto Hob’s chest, across his neck and collarbone and chest hair.

His cock stops spurting and twitching but Dream does not stop moving, fucking himself through the start of the aftershocks and shouting, pleading with Hob. “Come in me. Want your seed dripping down my thighs. Fill me, Hob.”

One more snap down of Dream’s hips and Hob is obeying, body going taut and arching and he damned well looks like some ancient painting of a person succumbing to a lustful demon, skin shining with sweat in the dim lights of the room. And then Hob’s moans turn into sobs when Dream keeps fucking himself well into Hob’s oversensitivity, until Hob’s cum is being pushed out of him around the softening cock, making an obscene squelching noise that has Dream smiling and almost purring as he slows to a stop.

Dream collapses like his strings have been cut, flops down gracelessly next to Hob, chest a heaving bellows. He lets his eyes close under the weight of the pleasure had. There is an absolutely dopey grin on his face and he cannot bring himself to care. 

Silence, warm and comfortable, settles between them. Eventually Hob’s hand finds its way to tangle with one of Dream’s. He squeezes once. Dream squeezes back. 

When Dream finally gets around to opening his eyes he finds Hob watching him, a soft smile on his face. “You are so fucking beautiful.” Hob turns onto his side so that he can bring one hand up and trail gentle fingertips across Dream’s cheekbone. “You are stunning, Dream. And if someone hasn’t told you that every day of your life then I damn well volunteer to finish the job, whether I ever have you in my bed again or not.” 

Dream gets up just enough to bring his lips to Hob’s so that they can kiss, leisurely and languid, savoring taste and texture. Dream feels like he could fit here, make a home for himself in Hob’s body. He wants to. “How about we start with a shower?”

#Dreamling #Star Trek AU #human AU #Dream of the Endless #Hob Gadling #The Sandman AU #julykinkfest2023

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Days 12, 13, and 14

The Sandman (human A/B/O AU) || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 5.6k words

Prompts: Voyeurism | Pillow Princess | “I know you like it rough but I'm not going to damage you.” | Weapons Kink | Aggressive Omega | “Show me how you like to touch yourself.” | Breeding Kink | Confession | “I want to dress you up.” (The crossed out prompts will be in a later chapter of this insanity.)

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): (check the AO3 tags)

Author's Notes: This is in the same AU as this kinkfest fill. It explores how alpha Hob and omega Dream got together.

Excerpt below. Read all of Chapter 1 on AO3.

“Hello, gorgeous. Heard you begging to be fucked… any chance I can take you up on that offer?”

Morpheus is consumed by gently inquiring brown eyes. The entire party fades into the background as warmth suffuses through his body. Even the ropes that have him suspended from the ceiling feel like tender caresses when he is looking into those brown eyes. 

This is an alpha, of that Morpheus has no doubt. He cannot scent him, not with the smell of sweat and semen and lube and blood all around him here on this stage, but he knows, in the way that he knows that he has lungs and a heart – it resonates within him.

“Yes.” He whispers, as if he speaks any louder the man in front of him will prove himself a dream. 

His smile is a dawn, something bright and new. “Good. Can I touch you?”

“If you can fuck me without touching me I will be really impressed.” A laugh, warm and rolling and so real. Morpheus can’t help but smirk. “Yes, you can touch me.”

He expects a fist in his hair, or a tug on the ropes. Instead, calloused fingers run over Morpheus’ lips, his cheekbone. “Gorgeous and smart.” Fingertips tilt his chin up. “Oh, I am taking you back to a room. I want this all to myself.”

Morpheus thrills at the possessiveness, wants to moan Yes, please, and take those fingers into his mouth. Instead, he pouts and whines. “But I like an audience.”

The alpha leans forward to whisper in his ear. “Liar.” His voice is heavy enough to cause the omega to shudder in his bonds. “Everyone already knows you are a needy little whore.” A gasp catches in Morpheus’ throat. “But if I take you away, just you and me? Then they all will know you are my needy little whore. And that’s what you really want, isn’t it?”

Fuck. Morpheus can feel himself getting wet at that, he might even be dripping onto the floor. Christ. “Yes. I want that.” He tilts his head in to subtly nuzzle at the other man’s jaw. “Sir.”

The alpha growls in pleasure and Morpheus does moan out loud then, can’t help himself, every instinct in him screaming that he should prostrate himself at the feet of this stranger. Then, in a rush of displaced air, the other man is gone. 

Luckily, he is speaking before Morpheus can cry out looking for him. “Drop him, gently now. I’m taking over this one.” There is an audible chorus of disappointed sounds from people around them, more than Morpheus thought were there, at least before this man showed up. “Jess, get my usual room ready, would you, love?” The clip-clacking sound of high heels fades into the distance. Who is this guy?

“Hey now, I had him first.” That’s the voice of the guy who was flogging him, who tied him up, who put this collar on him. Great hand at shibari, less at the domming. 

An aggressive snarl permeates the air again and Morpheus hears himself whine. There is the faintest rustle of fabric and then murmurs from the crowd. 

There is a tack-thud of the flogger hitting the polished floorboards. “S-s-sorry, Mr. Gadling, uh, Sir. Yeah. I. Ah. Have to. Leave.” 

Morpheus can barely hear the thud-thud-thud of boots running away over the rush of blood in his ears. Gadling. Robert Gadling. The Knight. Consigliere of the Cortesi Family. 

Fuck. This man is here to kill him. Pull him into a private room and either ransom him in pieces to his father or just murder him outright to send a message to the Endless. 

Well, joke's on him because Khronos couldn't give two shits about what happens to his pathetic omega son. Gadling is going to send Morpheus' ear by courier and Khronos will send the poor messenger back with a wad of cash and a request to finish the job. Oh, and a note: please return that ruby necklace, it is a family heirloom. 

The next few minutes pass in a blur as Morpheus is untied and his limbs rubbed back to normal function. Gadling does it all himself, with careful deliberation that, in any other circumstance, would make Morpheus' knees weak. 

"Hey, darling, what's wrong?" A silken robe has been draped over Morpheus' shoulders and Gadling is holding him up by the biceps. "I don't take unwilling partners, so if you have changed your mind, I won’t take offense…"

"Cut the act." Morpheus whispers, monotone, keeping this between them as he threads his arms into the robe. "I know you are here for me. So what is it going to be? Ransom or just plain murder?" His voice is probably more bladed than it needs to be, but he is also furious with himself for not catching it sooner. Epthumia is right, Morpheus is fucking useless.

Gadling looks genuinely confused. "I am sorry, what? Am I supposed to know you? Like, outside of my wildest fantasies?" 

Morpheus tamps down the amused snort that wants to come out – now is not the time to be charmed – crosses his arms over his chest and stares at the man in front of him. He finds nothing but warmth and sincerity. With narrowed eyes he turns slightly and lets the robe drop to reveal the bump of the top of his spine. There, in only about an inch square, is an hourglass with a frame shaped like a Mobius strip. 

What Morpheus doesn't expect is to be grabbed by the wrist and dragged down a hallway, up a flight of stairs, down another hallway he didn't even know existed in this building, and into a luxuriously appointed private room. The door slams, making Morpheus flinch, and he hears the deadbolt lock into place.

"You are one of Khronos’ kids, aren’t you?" Gadling spins him around so they are facing each other, hands on Morpheus' upper arms again. “If you know me, then you know I know Death and Destiny, just by virtue of our positions in our respective organizations. I know that he has more children.”

"Morpheus is what my father named me." He keeps his gaze as even as his tone.

He can see Gadling doing the math. Khronos has a hard-on for Ancient Greece, thinks it the pinnacle of human civilization, so it pays for anyone who interacts with him to know a bit about it too, even his enemies. So deep is his adoration that each of his children has a name right out of some Ancient Greek dictionary, then a nickname to go with it that matches the meaning of the Greek word. The latter is because their mother realized that no one could pronounce any of the given names and she was going to be spending the rest of her natural-born life correcting people when she could actually be drinking more wine. She was the one who came up with the cute alliteration scheme. The biggest rub is that Morpheus had it on good authority that Khronos had named himself, that his whole story of their hereditary line was bullshit, and that the name on that motherfucker’s birth certificate is Tim.

“Okay, you got me. I can’t come up with a word that starts with D-E that means sleep. So what’s your…” Morpheus just keeps staring while Gadling trails off. “You don’t have one. Holy shit, he does have an omega son he is hiding.”

He rolls his eyes. “Hiding is a strong word. More like a lie of omission.” Gadling just blinks at him, some unnamable emotion flittering across those beautiful eyes. “Now are you going to fuck me or what?”

#Dreamling #Dreamling AU #Mafia AU #A/B/O AU #alpha Hob #omega Dream #julykinkfest2023 #Pavonis writes

[thirtysixsavefiles]

July Kinkfest Drabbles Day 2 - Edging | Comeslut | “Show me what’s in your bedside drawer.” (Hobrintheus)

The Corinthian is not above begging, and as Gadling pulls off just before the Corinthian wants him to, he strongly considers it. “C’mon,” he pants instead. “Haven’t you had enough yet?”

Gadling glances over at Morpheus, tongue running over lips red with spit and other fluids.

Morpheus settles deeper into the armchair, folding his hands over his stomach. “Not yet,” he says peaceably.

The Corinthian’s arms flex over his head, testing his bonds. Gadling shifts on the bed, getting back to work. “What do I win if he gets tired before I do?”

Morpheus smiles, warm and confident. “You won’t.”

Other July Kinkfest 2023 Entries

#julykinkfest2023 #hobrintheus #the corinthian #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #my fic #my original intent for this was dreamling but this just sort of happened

[thirtysixsavefiles]

July Kinkfest Drabbles Day 4 - Possessive Sex | Body Worship | “I had a dream about you.” (Dreamling)

Hob carries the evidence on his body: the imprint of teeth on the back of his neck, on his shoulder, bruising deep over his heart. Once assured of his welcome, Dream is reckless in his affection and Hob can only lean into it, greedy for more.

Dream does not say the words, but Hob can hear them in the insistent press of fingers into his hips, in the graze of teeth followed by a soft kiss of apology. He can hear what Dream is trying so desperately not to say, and so he kisses back his answer: yes, yes, yes.

Other July Kinkfest 2023 Entries

#julykinkfest2023 #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #my fic