#aralezinspace

THESE TWO ARE EVERYTHING TO ME AND I LOVE THEM, BECAUSE THERE'S SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS IT CAN GO. BUT HERE IS ONE OF THEM!!

~!~

There's, of course, the Knight Hob who has been working his way into the position, is FIERCELY loyal to his king, and becoming a member of his Kingsguard is everything he has ever wanted in his entire life. It's an honor and a pleasure (even though it makes him ache, soul-deep, as he realizes how lonely his King is, how much the crown weighs on him, and how much everyone demands from him, and how the King denies himself to meet the needs of others).

They get closer and closer, because Hob isn't befitting a Consort, even as Dream himself (his King had insisted, whispering, demanding, that he use his given name, because save for his Niece, his Heir, no one else did, and Hob hadn't been able to resist the quiet plea in those words), picks an Heir and protects their Kingdom and continues to rule alone. So though he cannot rule by Dream's side, Hob does everything he can to support Dream, every day.

Sometimes that includes dismissing the other guards to ensure the King can take a bath in peace. Sometimes it includes ensuring the fire is extra built up on the coldest nights and the warmest of furs have made their way onto Dream's bed. He loves his King (because of course he loves Dream), and there is nothing he wouldn't do to ensure that his King was happy. Absolutely nothing. He would give anything, everything, to ensure the happiness of his King.

And that includes his own life.

When an attempt is made on Dream's life, when the crossbow bolt is pointed at him from across the hall, Hob is stepping up and into it, without a second's thought. It tears through his shoulder, sinking deep into the flesh, and Hob's last thought is that he hopes he dies, not because he wants to die (far from it - he never wants to die), but because he will no longer be able to protect his King with an injury like this and that is worse, so much worse.

When the world goes black around him, Hob doesn't hear the shout from his King, or the explosion of furious magic that follows, nor the soft as satin hands that are touching the area around where the bolt is buried in his skin.

When he wakes, a great deal of time has passed, and even still, Hob is exhausted, and he's already wondering if he has been dismissed to a medical room befitting his station when he forces his eyes open and is surprised to recognize the King's Chambers. A few belated seconds later has him realizing that not only is he in the King's chambers, but he is in the King's bed, and his heart jumps into his throat, because the King, Dream, is sitting beside him in bed, reading by the light of the candle beside the bed.

He shifts, just enough to alert Dream and wide blue eyes dart down to stare at him, and then it is a scramble of hastily whispered words to hold still, and then Dream is holding a cup of water to his lips for him to sip from. Just that is exhausting, but his throat no longer feels on fire, and Dream, beautiful, perfect Dream, is still watching him, afraid.

"You mustn't ever do that again," Dream orders, his voice soft, but shaking. "Never. You were nearly lost to us."

Hob smiles despite himself, because the King's demand is a foolish one. "A worthy sacrifice to keep you safe, my King." He's surprised when Dream's face crumples in return and his hand is taken, cradled oh-so-carefully, and pulled closer. "Dream? Why-"

"You were nearly lost to ME," Dream growls, pressing a desperate kiss to Hob's palm. "I cannot lose you. I cannot." Another desperate kiss to the warm skin against his lips, before he meets his knight's eyes once more.

Hob's breath has caught and he is staring at his King with wide, shocked eyes. He strokes his fingertips down the length of Dream's cheek, before tracing the swell of his lower lip, marveling at the allowance, that Dream has not moved, nor denied him. "Dream."

Dream's breath leaves him in a heaving rush. "Never again would I have you hear me address me as my title. My given name has never sounded right until it fell from your lips, and I would hear it every time you address me henceforth." He pauses, breathing deep. "I have no desire to be a King to you, Hob, not any longer. I wish to be something far more dear, and I will not wait until death has stolen you from my arms to make you mine."

The smile that grows on his face is wide and shocked, happy and stunned all at once. Though there are many more words to be spoken, plans to be made, there is perhaps only one thing that matters in that moment, and Hob takes the excruciating amount of effort required to lift his hand, place it on the back of Dream's neck, to pull him into a kiss.

Hob is so used to having to pinch pennies to afford tuition and food that he has to keep reminding himself that he has money now. Like yes it’s a given that he makes Dream pay his tuition and housing and bills and food, but it doesn’t occur to him just how much he could ask for (Dream thinks it’s kinda cute)

He doesn’t ask Dream for luxury watches and designer clothes- when Dream takes him shopping it’s to the local department store, but Hob doesn’t confine himself to the sale rack. He buys Hob all the books on his to read list, in hardcover. Goes to the movies on weekends instead of waiting for value night.

Dream of course wants to spoil Hob with fine jewelry and designer clothes and expensive dinners out, but he soon realizes that what makes his dom happiest is getting the things he genuinely wants but previously couldn’t afford, and he’s all about making Hob happy.

Now that he doesn’t have to worry about making ends meet, Hob throws himself into his degree, he even studies abroad- Dream of course comes along and pays for it all, including weekend getaways for the two of them. Dream also may or may not have almost come in his pants when Hob walks across the stage to get his diploma- his money helped put that look of beaming pride in his work and happiness on Hob’s face.

As time goes on Hob does start to get greedier. He works as an adjunct professor for funsies and to keep himself busy, but he starts demanding more of Dream, and Dream loves it. Less material items, more concert tickets, VIP packages to Broadway or west end shows, exotic vacations. And of course there’s sex, lots of sex, lots of fantastic sex

This is actually so cute, you are a genius for making findom so wholesome!!!

It always puts Dream on edge when they go shopping together because he never knows what Hob is going to ask for. And the thing is, Dream has realised that it’s not the expensiveness of the thing that gets him off - it’s how satisfied Hob seems with a purchase. So they go around the mall popping into vinyl stores where Hob gets all his favourite albums to play on the gorgeous record player Dream bought for him. And they go to get new underwear for Hob, and it’s nice and comfortable and really good quality, and Dream is squirming because Hob looks so pleased. And then they hit the stationery store which is maybe Hob’s one little weakness; he loves a good pen, and he really does get use out of them! Dream is so horny watching Hob browse, knowing that his beloved will probably come out with a midrange fountain pen - not the most expensive, but the one that makes him smile the most.

I will keep this gender neutral as I can, but oh my oh my

***

Morpheus laid on his back quite comfortably as he watched you closely: you, hovering above him, the most beautiful, ravishing creature he had ever laid eyes on, catching your breath, beads of sweat running down your face and your neck (which he'd very much like to just lick), the effects of an earth-shattering orgasm still lingering on your pretty features.

It was a sight to behold, and it was one of those moments where he wished he could just freeze time itself to admire the strength this lythe, little body holding him down on the mattress possessed.

The Endless in him had seen and experienced a multitude od things in his time in this universe, but to say he had been taken aback at the way you had almost (his pride refused to admit just how close you were) ruined his corporeal body with your...skills was understatement. He was sated beyond belief, true, but never in his imaginations did he see you responsible.

He simply couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

He had observed you the entire time he and you had laid together; how your innocent eyes darkened as you commanded him to strip before you, how your plump lips curled into a cruel smirk as you yanked his wrists and pinned it above him with so much force he could've bruised if he was any lesser than a cosmic being, and how you growled mine over and over in his ears as you ravaged him the way you wanted. The memory of you taking him over and over sent shivers down his spine - he'd like to do it again, and again, and again, if you'd be willing. His cock was hard, again, uncomfortably throbbing in pure want. He could never get enough of you after this.

And judging by that sly grin on your usually soft features, you knew. You knew the effect you had on him.

"Something on my face, my King?" You whispered from above him. Normally such an insolent tone would warrant a severe punishment among his subjects, but right then, he couldn't even begin to care. All he wanted was more of you.

"Hmm. Have you had your fill, mortal?" He teased back as his finger made its way to your collarbone to trace your skin. He'd very much like to mark it, but this time was yours. There would always be another time, he surmised.

With a force he didn't know you still had in you after such a strenous session, you gripped his wrist and threw it back on the pillow, just above his head.

"I have not given you the permission." It was a warning. Oh how he loved riling you like so. "And I am not done with you, your Majesty."

The way your eyes shifted, hardening with resolve and an unspoken promise to wreck him as much as your little mortal body could, stirred up an urge in him to just beg. He'd give you a run for your money of course, but there's no saying you couldn't break him like only he knew you could.

Reader does sword fighting or martial arts or both, and hasn’t done it in a while and misses it, so they dream about it. Dream has fought in wars and has The Hots for them, so he manipulates the dream and they Fight but like dream fighting? Where it’s kind of glitchy/skips moments, and even when someone scores a hit it doesn’t hurt

And it gets Heated and Dream defeats them and pins them down and Claims His Prize

Listen! I am a sucker/whore for play fighting!!!

You had been ‘fighting’ for what seemed to be hours and somehow seconds all at once. You heaved slightly, while Dream seemed more composed. Maybe you were far more rusty than you thought. But, you did manage to land a few good hits on him. Trying to end this quickly, you lunged forward, only for Dream to twist you around and pin you to the ground. You stared up at him stunned.

He settled over your hips, easily straddling you. Your wrists pinned on either side of your head. He smirked, loving this position and leaned down, “Do you concede?”

You struggled against him but his grip was absolute. You would not be able to escape.

Seeing you struggling, his eyes sparkled with a heated look. “I will repeat myself: do you concede?”

No. Yes. It both weighed on your tongue, but you couldn’t speak not with how he was looking at you.

Dream hummed, leaning down. His hot breath brushed over your lips. “My dear, you must answer me. If you don’t concede then I suppose I must do everything I can to stop you.”

He took your wrists and held him in one hand above your head. While the other slowly skimmed down your body. You shivered, and let out a shaky breath. You tugged trying to free yourself, but with only half of the effort.

Nonbinary + Ballet Aesthetics

X X X X - X X X X X X X X - X X X X

ReWaRdS??? 👀”try not to imagine it’s you.” “Dream of me if you like” IM REELING HERE 🤩

Dare I/we speculate these will be spicy rewards?? 👀👀

bc i am currently 100% trash for Arthur Morgan, more Arthur and Lily