#shoutout to ao3 user softestpunk & their “hob is the world’s best lay” agenda

[deliriiuumm]

you know what’s fun to explore in a retired!dream au?

it’s dream realizing how bad he is at sex now that he’s human.

my headcanon is that dream is exceptionally good at it because he holds the collective human subconscious— he knows exactly what his lovers like, how they want to be held and kissed, etc etc., but take that away and he’s all sharp angles, sloppy kisses, and clumsy, hesitant thrusts (hello? he’s only had a handful of lovers in his 6 billion years of existence?)

now hob— that man has Experience. he’s a 600+ yr old immortal who’s had countless lovers (men & women you can’t convince me otherwise), who literally fucks around & finds out.

imagine retired (and human) dream enthusiastically fumbling with hob in bed, trying to seduce, trying to look ravishing, trying to please. he straddles hob and gazes at him with his dangerously soft, bedroom eyes, whispering filthy promises with his deep, deep voice between kissing and touching.

but somehow, his attempts to seduce fall flat and awkwardly, embarrassingly stiff. he looks so offended when he doesn’t get the reaction he’s been expecting from hob.

and hob— the bastard— purses his lips in a poor attempt to hold his laughter in. finally, he doubles over in a fit of giggles. “you’re so cute, love.”

dream pouts, unable to hide his dismay. but this look only makes hob’s heart grow fonder and he envelopes dream into his arms.

the sound of their giggles vibrates in their chests, echoing across the small bedroom. then they fall silent and gaze at each other’s eyes, their smiles lingering on their kiss-swollen lips. there’s no need for words at this moment.

they think, this is it, this is what being human must be all about.

tldr: hob and dream giggling while having bad and awkward sex mean the world to me ok

ALSO i can imagine hob being an absolute bastard & grading dream’s performance in bed like he’s grading his students’ essays.

“how did i do?” dream asks through his post-coital haze, looking up at hob with his dark, twinkling eyes.

“not bad…” hob pats dream’s head, his lips curling into a menacing smirk. “i’ll give you… 72%.”

fists pound on the pillows. dream whines an ugly whale noise against the crook of hob’s neck, “hOoooOooob…”

(you can find this thread on twitter)