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obsessiveagony2point0 · 1 month

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Hob remembers their wedding day very well. He had been at the alter, trying not to sweat through his off-white or light cream suit (he honestly wasn't sure the color...it all looked white to him). He had been so nervous, vile thoughts digging into his mind. Thoughts about how Hob was nothing, how Dream deserved so much better than a History teacher, how he wouldn't blame Dream if he left him standing at the alter. Then...the music started. The notes of the Wedding March floated magically off Matthew's guitar and Lucienne's keyboard and Hob had felt his heart skip a beat at just hearing it. Because he knew Dream had ask his little band to please play at their wedding. Their wedding. The doors opened, everyone stood up, and all the fear Hob had been feeling, all the doubt and vile thoughts...they vanished. Because there was Dream, absolutely gorgeous in his nearly all black wedding outfit save for his red tie, the red damask pattern on his vest, and the marigold and poppy corsage that matched Hob's, being walked down by his oldest brother and sister, looking at Hob with pride and adoration and love. Looking at him...and only him. One would think once the rings were slipped on, any remaining doubt would leave, but it wasn't until they had their wedding photos taken, and as Hob stared into Dream's blue eyes, that Hob knew...he knew...that Dream truly, deeply, endlessly loved him as he was. Loved Robert "Hob" Gadling, the simple man who was a History professor and pub owner.

And it was that moment, as he stared back into those adoring blue eyes that had been decorated with black and red makeup, that those vile thoughts left...and never came back.

Thanks to @pluckyyoungdonna for suggesting the damask pattern! I did a dark red coloring so the vest could stay black but still match the tie (which I know you can see very well in this shot but it's there, promise lol).

WIP and Sketch

Twitter/X•AO3•Pillowfort •Linktree•Bluesky•Ko-fi

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sleepsonfutons · 1 year

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My Comfort. Your Touch. - 2023 Dreamling Bingo Fill

Square: C2 - Disability

Title: My Comfort. Your Touch.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1688

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Couch Cuddles, Self-Indulgent, Fluff, Comfort, Getting Together, Chronic Pain, Hob Gadling has Chronic Pain, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Loves Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus

Summary: Hob Gadling may be an immortal but he still carries the aches borne from injuries before becoming so. Morpheus drops in to visit and finds Hob having a pain day.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45376456

Here’s a fluffy fill for the @dreamlingbingo prompt C2 - Disability, going the chronic pain route, cuz sometimes the pain just can’t be muddled through.

#my writing #2023 dreamling bingo #dreamling #soft dreamling #the most self-indulgent #comfort dreamling #dreamling fanfic #dream x hob #hob gadling #chronic pain!hob #dream #dream of the endless #dream makes a perfect blanket #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #it's dummy soft #and makes me happy

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valeriianz · 7 days

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for the blossoming romance prompts, either 14 (looking at their lips while they talk), 19 (talking late into the night), and/or 27 (sharing an umbrella/coat/blanket, etc) for dreamling!!

i chose "looking at their lips while they talk" tags: human au, hard of hearing Dream, hurt/comfort

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Dream is always staring at Hob’s lips whenever he speaks.

It’s something Hob has gotten used to… or so he tries to convince himself. Dream is hard of hearing– not quite deaf, though his hearing is deteriorating. He’d met Dream like this, after his hearing loss began so, without really having to explain why, Hob was able to roll with it– with how Dream has always relied on reading lips.

It did become harder– watching Dream’s gaze drop to his mouth– once Hob realized he had developed a crush on his friend.

Nothing ever prepared him for those deeply crystalline eyes to focus on his lips, even during the most banal of conversations. Hob’s pulse would skip and jump, faltering over his words and laughing at himself sometimes. He wondered what Dream was thinking, during those moments when he would stammer and stutter over a sentence for seemingly no reason. It certainly made conversation drag on a little longer, Dream often having to ask Hob to repeat himself with a patient, almost coy smile.

Or– lord help him– if they were in a dark place like a backyard bonfire or a bar, Dream would lean in close, his face scrunching adorably as he tried to understand the conversation happening around him, and Hob would have to speak directly into Dream’s good ear, a hand cupped over it, like he was telling him a secret.

“I can’t hear a thing in this place,” Dream groused in Hob’s ear, both of them leaning against the bar and surrounded by minimal lights and thumping bass lines.

Hob leaned into Dream’s space, the man automatically turning his head to catch his voice.

“Let’s get out of here, then.” Hob’s lips brushed the shell of Dream’s ear and Hob was just drunk enough to not apologize over it, but the brief contact set his skin on fire regardless.

They soon found themselves walking along the waterfront, the temperature dropping in the cool night air and a breeze kicking up to match the waves on the water. Dream tugged on his jacket before stuffing his hands in its pockets, knocking his head back as he took a deep breath, tasting the city air. Hob watched fondly, the street lights they passed under giving Dream’s skin an orange glow, warm and inviting, and he had an easy expression on, the quiet hour giving him some reprieve.

Neither of them spoke, which Hob sometimes preferred… After knowing Dream for nearly a year now, he’d gotten used to these quiet moments, happy to just enjoy each other’s company. Hob liked that the most about Dream, how he was able to find solace and comfort in the silence, rather than feeling the need to fill it with small talk.

It’s late so there aren’t many people out among the scattered benches and picnic tables, as they are properly walking now into a rest area which usually would be bustling in the daytime. Vendors around them closed for the evening or just breaking down.

They come up to one that still looks open, a chalkboard sign boasting snacks like hot dogs and tater tots. Hob slows and points out the open and lit up stall.

“Food?”

Dream’s gaze sweeps over to the sign, his brows lifting in interest and he nods, turning with Hob as they approach the counter.

Unfortunately they no longer have food, the person behind the stall informs sadly, but they are still serving alcohol. With a sideways glance at Dream, Hob gives in and orders a night cap, and Dream follows suit.

So, here’s a funny thing. Hob watches Dream discuss their cider list with the cashier, and his eyes flick down maybe once or twice during the conversation. And, maybe it’s difficult to tell while he’s not facing Dream, but Hob could swear Dream doesn’t have his gaze affixed to other people’s lips while in conversation with them.

Hob of course has no idea how much Dream really relies on reading lips– how the whole interpretation works for him, matching lip movements to the words… but Hob could swear that he never needs to hyper focus on people’s mouths; he always seems to get along just fine without prolonged eye-to-mouth contact.

In fact, now that he is tipsy enough to overthink, Hob is certain Dream hadn’t always stared at his lips. Hob had naively always attributed that to his hearing declining… but that didn’t make sense, as again, Dream never needed to stare for very long when in conversation with literally anyone else.

Drinks paid for, Hob and Dream walk a little out of the way of the path, finding a bench in a patch of grass and collapsing onto it with matching sighs.

Hob slowly sipped his beer and Dream, from his cider, staring out at the lit up skyline beyond the water. The windows in the skyscrapers were high and far away enough that they resembled stars, reflecting off the water too. It was pretty, Hob always preferred the city when the sun went down.

Dream did, too. Much of their experience together was shared after hours.

Hob stares at Dream’s profile, how he can somehow still see his long lashes even in the limited light, the point of Dream’s nose, his devastating jawline that Hob has fantasized pressing his lips to, cupping it with his hand, nudging his nose along until he was in Dream’s sooty hair. He wanted to know what it felt like, to tangle his fingers in that hair, comb through it lovingly and also pull it just to hear what sounds Dream would make if he did so, exposing the line of his throat so Hob could latch his mouth onto it.

Taking a deep breath, Hob set his drink down on the space next to him, and tapped Dream on the shoulder.

Dream turns, his expression curious and only a little faded, muddled from alcohol, though Hob swore Dream had less to drink than him.

Hob’s pulse kicks up once he realizes what he’s about to ask. He licks his lips and doesn’t miss how Dream’s eyes flit down to catch the movement.

“Why are you always staring at my mouth?”

Dream’s brows pinch, looking back up at Hob’s eyes with a patient stare.

“Because I need to?”

“No, why are you always… staring at my mouth.”

Dream doesn’t need to. Hob is certain of it. And Dream tenses up, his own lips parting silently, his gaze sweeping sideways.

After a beat, Hob panics. He hadn’t meant to put Dream on the spot, or make him feel awkward. He shifts to be just a smidge closer.

“I mean, is the way I speak difficult? Do I have some sort of lisp I’m not aware of?” Hob tries to joke, to lighten the mood, to brush off the question like it wasn’t aimed at Dream.

Dream doesn’t even look at Hob while he speaks, continuing to stare into the middle distance, turning the tin can in his hold around and around.

Finally, Dream sighs, his shoulders going with it as he turns to bodily face Hob, planting one foot on the bench and almost curling around his bent knee pressed against his chest.

“I’m going deaf…”

A sudden lump appears in Hob’s throat at the quiet, defeated way Dream speaks, his eyes downcast, staring at his drink.

“Figured I was, obviously,” Dream takes a breath, tapping a finger on the rim of the can now. “Doctors don’t even know why. My hearing is just…” he waves a hand around his head. “... deteriorating. Fast. I’ll lose it completely in my left ear within the next five years, and then my right will surely go soon after.”

Hob swallows hard, his throat clicking at the tightness in his throat.

Dream looks up and Hob feels his eyes burn at how watery and red Dream’s usual clear, blue eyes are.

“It sucks,” Dream proclaims with a choked off laugh, averting his gaze again. “No more music, no more podcasts… soon I won’t be able to hear the sound of my own voice…” his gaze tentatively slips back to Hob’s. “... or yours.”

Hob’s lips part, butterflies now twisting his stomach into knots.

“So I’ve been…” Dream’s eyes rove over Hob’s face, as if searching for the words. “... trying to memorize the sound of your voice.” He gives another broken laugh, his chin dipping to his chest.

“The way your lips move is unique, it helps carry your accent.” He pulls his head back up, resting it on his bent knee. “The way your tongue curls around vowels, the way you putter and stammer sometimes, it creates a profile, and I can attribute the sound of every letter to the way your mouth forms the words.”

Hob is speechless, a complicated mix of euphoria and sadness swirling around within him.

He must take a moment too long to sit on what Dream has just admitted, because Dream’s face falls, apprehension marring his beautiful features.

“Say something,” Dream whispers, his brows going up.

Hob can’t say anything. His pulse is racing and his throat is clogged with emotion. So instead he leans forward, gets his hands– which shake slightly– on either side of Dream’s face, and kisses him.

Dream gasps loudly against Hob’s lips before kissing back, shooting electricity down Hob’s spine, all the way to his feet and back up, clinging now to Dream and pulling him closer.

Hob parts for air and kisses Dream again and again, lips-only, but he can somehow still taste the honey sweetness of him, can smell it on his breath and feel it under his touch. One of Dream’s hands knots in the front of Hob’s sweater, yanking him closer still, holding on as Hob’s lips trail up Dream’s jaw– softer than it looks– peppering kisses along the way.

Dream breathes harshly into his ear, wet and raw, tucking his head into the crook of Hob’s neck, and goes still. Hob holds him there, one hand going around the back of his head while the other finds his hand on his sweater and disentangles it to hold instead.

Hob listens as Dream breathes deeply, collecting himself, his other hand coming up around Hob’s shoulder and just… holding on.

Nothing needs to be said, though Hob’s mind is swimming with words, but he keeps them in, opting to shut his eyes and feel the warmth of Dream around him, caressing his pointy knuckles and combing his fingers through Dream’s hair. This is enough for now, holding on, knowing they have time after this.

And Hob has always enjoyed the silence they shared.

blossoming romance prompts

#dreamling #dream x hob #my writing #this got real soft and kind of sad #definitely took me by surprise #:')#thank you so much Rex!

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webonchin · 2 years

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Do you agree that big cat Dream? Huge chonker??

I love him, I'm obsessed, I guess for Hob it would be fun too

Close ups under cut 🐈‍⬛

The embodiment of Dreams enjoying being a cat.

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #meowpheus #big boi very big boy good boi #i want to cuddle him #he looks so soft i love cats so much #my art #the sandman

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amielot · 2 years

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This fic said “living shadows” and I went absolutely FERAL. (darkfic! mind the tags)

#COME GET Y'ALLS ANGST #dreamling #sandman #hob gadling #dream of the endless #hob is a soft boi #tw #panic attacks #the art tag

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abyssalcryptid · 1 year

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Always a good idea to sneak off during stuffy faculty events

click for better quality

#dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #abyssalcryptidart #you get soft dom hob last time so let's switch it up

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designtheendless · 2 years

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Peace of mind

#dream the endless #morpheus #the sandman #dreamling #hob gadling #sandman #tom sturridge #ferdinand kingsley #soft vibes #we’re getting fluffy folks #designtheendlessart

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cosmic--static · 1 year

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"you looked cold" (i love you)

#feeling soft but also a little sad in this chillis tonight lads #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #netflix the sandman #cosmo creates

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five-and-dimes · 2 months

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Off Book

Sometimes shit gets stuck in my head and I just gotta get it out. Dreamling, human au, soft smut, read on AO3.

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There is a script.

There is always a script, for everything and anything, even if Dream doesn’t always know what that script is. Sometimes he gets the words mixed up, or he gets the words right but the cadence wrong, and he’s left floundering until someone decides to cut him out of the dialog completely.

Which. Hurts. But he gets it.

There is a script for this too.

Hob moving on top of him, hands on his hips to pull Dream back onto his cock with each thrust while Dream’s fingers curl around his shoulders. The bedframe is making little thuds against the wall, and Hob’s breath is hot as he pants next to Dream’s ear. Dream is biting his lip, because sometimes silence is more acceptable than the wrong line, and he feels the way his breath hisses through his teeth on a particularly strong thrust. Despite his best efforts, a needy, desperate whine escapes his throat.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Hob rasps, keeping his rhythm as he speaks, pulling back just slightly to glance at Dream’s face.

There is a right answer to his question.

Dream knows what he’s supposed to say. He knows it from porn, from oversharing friends, from partners who tried to spoon feed him his lines- You like it like this, right? I know this is what you want, I know this is what you need- until all he had to do was nod along. He knows what he’s supposed to say, he knows what’s expected, he knows the script here.

“Softer.”

He chokes the word out, and he thinks if Hob hadn’t had their faces pressed together it might have gone unheard, he might have had a second chance to get it right, to say what he knows he was supposed to- harder, faster, more- instead of pathetically pleading for the wrong thing. There are tears welling in his eyes and his breath catches in his throat as he feels Hob still. Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe he will just have to endure rolled eyes and pointed questions designed to let him know exactly how ridiculous he was being, perhaps a few sharp comments about how weird and stupid he was. He would endure it all, gladly, to not be pushed away.

“Of course, love.”

Dream gasps, eyes snapping open when he hadn’t even been aware of clenching them closed in the first place. A tear escapes as he blinks in surprise, looking up at Hob’s gentle gaze. A flash of sadness crosses his face, followed by shining compassion as he leans down to kiss the corner of Dream’s eye, “Anything you want, sweetheart. That’s why I asked.”

People don’t ask because they want an answer. They ask to move the script forward, to follow the tracks laid down in front of them, to get to the ending plotted out in their heads already. For his whole life Dream has been taught that every interaction has one right answer and countless wrong ones. His answer had been wrong.

But Hob just smiles as he shifts them gently till they are laying on their sides, facing each other. He has one hand wrapped around Dream’s waist to hold the small of his back while the other tugs at his thigh, tangling their legs together and then petting up and down his side in long, soft strokes.

“Like this?”

The next thrust is slow, and deep. Dream can hear himself sigh, wrapping his arms around Hob to pull him impossibly closer, burying his face against Hob’s neck just in case he fails to blink back his tears appropriately. It feels so good, and Hob is holding him so gently and fucking him softly, just like he asked, as if it was actually possible to get what he wants even when he wants the wrong thing. And he still feels certain he will do something to make it all go away.

He opens his mouth to… he’s not really sure what. To apologize, maybe. But all that comes out is a sharp gasp, and he hears Hob moan, a sound he has become so familiar with and fond of over their time together, the sound of Hob feeling good.

“God, you’re perfect,” he mumbled, a hazy note to his voice that he only got when he was truly losing himself to pleasure and Dream lets out a choked sob on the next thrust as he realizes that somehow he hasn’t messed anything up, Hob isn’t just being nice or indulging him to hold it against him later, Hob is enjoying himself just as much as Dream is.

And crying isn’t in the script either, but when Hob shifts to kiss him deeply, he doesn’t pull away at the taste of salt on his lips. He threads his fingers through Dream’s hair as they kiss, moving together languidly, no rush, no urgency. By the time they both come, Dream’s tears have dried, and Hob still hasn’t let him go.

As they clean up- still quiet, still slow- there is a part of Dream that wonders if this is just a new script for him to learn and eventually get wrong. As they curl up in bed together- still gentle, still soft- a larger part wonders if maybe, with Hob, there isn’t a script at all.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #smut #soft smut #my writing

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sourcerry · 1 year

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I read a lot of fics where Hob takes a lot of precautions and effort to keep his immortality a secret and I love them. I also love the ones where he is a BAMF and can keep himself and others from harm (sometimes by harming others first or worse). But today I was at work staring blankly at my computer and wondered - what if he didn't do anything to keep his secret? I mean, he did get drowned as a witch even though he changed his name. So he just tells the truth and nobody believes him anyway.

"Shakespeare stole my date once. That's why I resent him." - yeah sure Professor.

"I am older than chimneys." - that's a really weird invention to relate to.

And every now and then he really gets kidnapped because of it. And he is pretty embarrassed but also kind of likes it, when Dream rescues him. He absolutely loves the forehead kisses he gets, when they're back home and Dream tucks him into bed.

#dreamling headcanon #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #im soft for forehead kissen #dreamling

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obsessiveagony2point0 · 1 month

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Dream - bass player - gets maybe 4 hours of sleep (on a good night) - owns his own tattoo parlor - Married to Hob Gadling (loves him deeply) - has many tattoos but his favorite is on his upper arm. It’s a Raven’s head with a purple, blue, and pink galaxy in the background with stars

Hob - History Professor - owns a pub left to him by his uncle - married to Dream (deeply, stupidly in love) - was once in the military, then was honorably discharged. Suffers from PTSD - fell in love with Dream the moment he saw Dream

Twitter/X•AO3•Pillowfort •Linktree•Bluesky•Ko-fi

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #dream of the endless x hob gadling #centennial husbands #obsessive_dreamling #punk dream of the endless #punk dream #PunkxHistory!Dreamling #digital artist #digital art #digital drawing #soft dreamling #clip paint studio #married dreamling #dreamling au

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sleepsonfutons · 1 year

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No Accounting For Taste - 2023 Dreamling Bingo Fill

Square: A4 - Russian Roulette

Title: No Accounting For Taste

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Word Count: 1039

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, The New Inn (The Sandman), Fluff, Self-Indulgent, Minor Original Character(s), So Minor If You Blink You'll Miss Them, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Loves Hob Gadling, Bar/Pub Date, Hob Gadling owns the New Inn

Summary: Curious as to what could have his beloved suddenly nervous, Dream cocked his head and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, his expression perfectly conveying his intent without the need for words. “I’ll admit before we got to where we are now,” Hob’s gaze flicked to Dream’s glass before back to meet his eyes, swallowing hard, “I-I’ll admit it often felt like playing with a loaded gun. Our meetings were like games of russian roulette…never was entirely sure how things would go. Never knew if there was a bullet in the chamber that’d spell the end for me.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46138684

Here’s another fluffy fill for the @dreamlingbingo prompt A4 - Russian Roulette. I'd originally had a more crack fic idea, but then I landed here and honestly I couldn't be happier with the turn this fic took~!

#my writing #2023 dreamling bingo #soft dreamling #dreamling fanfic #dreamling #dream x hob #dream #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman fanfic

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littledreamling · 2 years

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Give me professor Hob who’s done safe zone training. Give me professor Hob who has a rainbow flag hung up in his office. Give me professor Hob who attends events (theater productions, dance recitals, etc) because his students are in them and asked him to be there. Give me professor Hob who fully and openly supports (and heavily donates to) the queer communities on his campus. Give me professor Hob who holds his office hours at his pub and is always willing to offer a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on for his students. Give me professor Hob who has inclusive attendance and classroom policies. Give me professor Hob who isn’t afraid to swear in class. Give me professor Hob who ignites a passion for history in every student in his class, even those who are taking it for throwaway elective credits. Give me professor Hob who cares and cares and cares about his students, who has a love of life that he passes on to others, who surrounds himself by other optimistic people not because he’s selective about his friends but because everyone around him slowly finds themselves becoming more optimistic solely through exposure to such enthusiastic and freely-given joy

#brb making myself cry #I adore Hob as a character concept #a man who loves life so much that he refused to ever die #who passes that love on to everyone he meets #he makes me so soft #no wonder Dream was looking at him like That ™ in 1789 and 2022 #hob gadling #dreamling #ferdinand kingsley #the sandman #sandman netflix

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cuubism · 1 year

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dream and hob are really just that post that was like 'introverts only make friends when an extrovert forcibly adopts them'

#hob picking dream up by the scruff of his neck: you're my friend now and we're having soft tacos later!#that was death's goal she was like hob is powerful and outgoing enough to rope dream into a friendship. i'm sure of it #dream's never had a friend because he never approaches anyone or tries and no one approaches him because he's scary and intimidating #except hob who doesn't give a fucK!!#hob: me and the best friend i pulled by not knowing when to quit!#little does hob know once he wins dream's favor dream will never let go of his hand and be completely obsessed with him for the rest oftime #that's how it works #dreamling #i feel u dream i've never initiated a relationship ever either

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ml-nolan · 5 months

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Coffee in bed with Dreamling

You got it! T-rating for this one.

When his eyes open, Hob is greeted by high ceilings swirling with kaleidoscopic clouds. It takes no time at all for him to remember where he is. Dream has done a lot to make him feel comfortable and safe in The Dreaming.

"Hello, Hob."

That includes making sure to be at his side every time he wakes in this behemoth of a bed. Sometimes Dream takes the time to lie down beside him, with or without clothes, depending on whether he feels like seduction is necessary. It usually isn't with Hob—he's pretty much game at any time.

Today though, Dream is perched on the side of the bed, close enough to run his fingers through Hob's hair. It's nice that there's sort of a middle ground for physical affection these days. In the beginning it was a bit hot-and-cold, with Dream either demanding to be ravished or fully disappearing for days on end. But the joy of having been friends first is that, eventually, they both missed sharing the simpler, less heated moments.

"Is there anything you require this morning, Hob Gadling?"

"Hmmm…" This isn't a question he ever waves off. He's never understood why people play coy little games to be polite. He knows that here in The Dreaming, he can pretty much have whatever he wants. Why not take advantage of that? "Don't suppose you could get us a cup of coffee."

Dream snorts of the very idea that there would be something he couldn't provide. It's subtle, but very cute. Not that Hob would dare tell him that (well, not right now, anyway).

"How would you prefer it?"

"Just a regular cup of joe, a little cream, no sugar."

Hob can't say it's not delightful to be waited on by a king. To be indulged, more like. With the hint of a smile, Dream goes very still, and then there is a cup in his hand. It's gorgeous in an artisanal sort of way, with starbursts of gold leaf where cracks used to be. He hands it to Hob, its temperature cool enough to hold in his hands.

"Where'd you get this one?" Hob says, pushing himself up to sit against the cool wooden headboard. The coffee is perfect—roasted but not burnt, creamy but not too thick.

"From the dream of a cafe owner who lives in a seaside village," Dream says.

"Uh oh. So does that mean I've stolen some poor sod's coffee?"

Dream turns his head ever so slightly, which he always does when Hob says something that he thinks is silly.

"This dreamer is much like you," Dream says, voice colored with affection. "He is resourceful enough to make the best of the unexpected."

Hob sets his cup on the stone window ledge beside the bed. "Uh oh. I'm not going to lose you to him, am I?"

Anyone would clock the smile on Dream's face now. He shakes his head. "You are still singular to me, Hob Gadling. I would have no one else. Besides," his expression drifts slightly, "his existing partner figures heavily in his dreams. I would be loath to interfere."

With a thoughtful sound, Hob scoots closer to Dream, straining up to kiss him. Obligingly, Dream leans into it to meet him halfway, letting his soft, cool lips linger on Hob's. There's a flutter in Hob's stomach, the same way there always is when he wakes up under Dream's attentive gaze.

They break from the kiss. "How long will that coffee stay warm?" Hob jerks his head toward where he'd left the gilded cup on the windowsill.

Dream's eyes flash, darkening from sea green into that clear black sky. He sets a hand on Hob's chest and eases him onto his back.

"As long as is necessary."

This piece was brought to you by these Soft Prompts. I've got a lot of great ones in the queue, but please feel free to send an ask for Sandman, The Magnus Archives, or Malevolent ships (or any of my OCs)!

#yay we're back with ficlets!#my head has finally cleared enough!#finally!#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #soft prompts

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