#i'm feeling a lack of dom dream in my life lately. granted i'm contributing to it with my 10k dom hob wip
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(from some unfinished scene that was bouncing around in my head, the premise of which was, "confessing your darkest fantasies to each other") bit nsfw, needless to say
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"God, I had this one--" Hob scrubs a hand through his hair, torn between embarrassment and a buried longing that's still very real-- "after I met you in 1689. This recurring dream that you would just... take me with you."
"With me," Dream says.
"To faerie land, or wherever it was you came from, as I imagined it. You must've lived in some fantastical place, I thought, and life was hardly treating me well then. Would just be for a few months, mind," he adds, before Dream starts getting the idea that he hadn't wanted to live. Hob had always wanted to live. He just needed a break. "A year, maybe. But just... that you would..." he ducks his head, "take care of me. God, the things I'd do then for a loaf of bread, or a warm bed. Things I did do, for lesser men. Would do lot more for you."
"Like what?" asks Dream. His voice is... considering.
Surely Dream, being, well, Dream, won't find it strange? Hell, he's so damn princely, he'll probably just be vain about it. Still Hob takes a steeling gulp of his wine. "Anything you wanted. You were the only one that was kind to me then."
"Barely kind," says Dream.
"Still. When I was really deep in it I-- I used to imagine you'd just keep me there. Like a pet." It should be more embarrassing to admit, but Dream doesn't seem judgmental. And Hob has often found that confessing deep feelings to him is easier than it would be to any other person. "Figured I was just a curiosity to you anyway. In exchange for your kindness I'd have done anything. Knelt at your feet. Let you use me. Kept your cock warm while you conducted your-- your magical affairs of state, or what have you, God I could only imagine what you did with the rest of your time." It still stirs something in him to think of, even with no starving desperation to spur it.
He's still looking down, and hears rather than sees Dream lean forward in his seat, the shift of fabric, the creak of the table as he leans on it, letting himself have real weight. "This fantasy..." Hob looks up to meet his gaze, and the dark intent he finds there nearly knocks him out of his chair. "Is it one you would still care to indulge in?"
"To-- indulge in?" The words are barely choked out, the heat of Dream's gaze brands his throat shut.
Dream looks him up and down slowly. "If I brought you with me to the heart of the Dreaming for an evening," he purrs, "would you truly kneel at the foot of my throne? Let me show you off to guests? Would you..." he leans in closer, his fingers trip up Hob's throat, "submit, and warm my cock like a good pet, while I presided over my kingdom?"
Hob's never beating the monarchist allegations now. He nearly slides off his chair and kneels at Dream's feet right then. God, but Dream is a king like none the earth's ever seen. He's right out of a story.
Heart pattering in his chest, he says, "Would I?" It sounds less a question, more a plea. "Would you let me?"
"Dear Hob." Dream tips his chin up, studies him from under his lashes, thumbs over the corner of his mouth. An evaluation, and a caress. "You need someone to care for you. In my realm you would want for nothing. You would not need to fight, or worry about your next meal. You need only do as I tell you. And I would not steer you wrong."
Hob swallows hard. Dream is too good at this. Why did Hob think it was a good idea to share a fantasy with the King of Fucking Fantasies again?
It was a terrible idea for his sanity.
And a wonderful one, too. For as Dream spins the tale he can see it in the back of his mind, the vague and changeable sense of a dream, the all-consuming weight of Dream in his mouth, Dream's hands in his hair, his low voice above him, all else faded away as is the nature of dreams.
Dream hums in approval, and Hob remembers quite suddenly that he can sense daydreams, too.
Dream digs his hand into his hair, tips his head back just so. "This isn't fair," Hob croaks. "You didn't even share one of your fantasies yet."
"Perhaps I've adopted this as one of mine," Dream muses. He leans in and claims Hob's mouth, tipping his head further back, rises from his chair to lean over him. Hob barely suppresses a whimper. "In fact, I have a delegation from Hell due to arrive in the Dreaming for a negotiation tonight. It promises to be both dull and incredibly infuriating. Would you care to join me, and comfort your king during this trying time?"
"From Hell?" Hob squeaks. But Dream is looking at him with those dark eyes and Hob is helpless to him. Helpless to the pull of that fantasy.
"I will keep you safe," Dream says, a soothing, easy tone that makes Hob want to bend for him just as much as his intensity does. "You need not worry."
Hob's worried for his sanity more than anything else.
But he says, "Okay. All- alright then." He swallows down the lump in his throat that catches at the gleam in Dream's eye. He steels himself. Takes Dream's hand. Kisses it. "Take me to your realm, then, King of Dreams."
#i'm feeling a lack of dom dream in my life lately. granted i'm contributing to it with my 10k dom hob wip#nsft#dreamling#dom/sub#things i write at 2am#my writing#the initial prompt in my head was 'cursed by desire to have to confess their darkest fantasies' XD sort of fuck or die but lower stakes
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