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Dream only grinned, fuelled by the adrenaline pumping in his veins. "Don't need you," he lied through his teeth, loving how Sam's grip tightened around his dick, his free hand finding its way around Dream's waist to grip at his ass.
"Doesn't look like that," Sam replied in that low voice of his that turned Dream's knees into jelly, cocksure and authoritative. "Practically asking for my dick with how you're all over me. Bet you’d be all wet if you were an omega."
The little whimper that happened to slip past Dream’s lips was no one’s business but his own. He tried to play it down by sucking another hickey on Sam’s jaw where everyone would see it, but they both knew the truth—Dream loved whenever Sam talked to him like this.
Or: Sam accidentaly bitches Dream. There's not a single brain cell to be found amongst them.
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Sam's legs feel like jelly, and his brain is screaming at him to move, to walk out and pretend he isn't here and hide away until this scene is finished and Dream gets—whatever he needs from four men, Jesus Christ, and Sam can pretend he wasn't perpetually touched by everything that is happening here, like he won't hear Dream's moan and pants and the way his neck looks as Sam's hoodie collar drops down, revealing a sliver of Dream's collarbones.
Feeling beyond crazy, he wants to step in. He wants to take a place between any of the others and beg Dream to let him touch him, kiss him, or—do anything, really, to get anything like that noise again. But Dream—who's wearing Sam's clothes, for some reason that his brain keeps coming back to—didn't ask him to be there, so he needs to leave.
He only manages one hesitant step back before Dream finally speaks.
"No, wait—Sam."
Or: Sam walks in on Dream, the man he is head-over-heels in love with, getting fucked by other men. While wearing his hoodie, no less.
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(Don't) break the chain by petal (dangergranger) for ToxicSunset
Fandoms: Video Blogging RPF
21 Oct 2024
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The first time he sees the King, Sam has to give it to the people. He really is just as pretty as the stories make him out to be.
King George has fair, unblemished skin that flushes petal pink when he chuckles at something his knight says, the elegant stretch of his neck begging for attention as he looks up. His hair is dark and wavy, with edges that curl around the delicate crown that sits on his head, and his smile is sweet and welcoming, almost bright enough to eclipse the golden chain wrapped around his wrist.
Sam has heard a lot about that chain. Everyone has.
Or: Sam is an (un)willing witness to King George and his Knight's weird rituals
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i shed my skin (it blows away with changing winds) by petal (dangergranger)
Fandoms: Video Blogging RPF
19 Oct 2024
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Summary
His mating mark practically fizzles under his touch. Dream swears he can feel it sparkle like his blood has been replaced by bubbly champagne. It's quite fitting, actually. The wetness between his thighs is more than worthy of celebration.
OR: Dream gets bitched. Lovingly so.
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Summary
As it is, they’re in the middle of nowhere with miles of ocean between their ship and any port they can safely dock at when Dream starts showing signs of pre-rut. It should not be this amusing to watch Dream grow needier as the days go by, hands restless where he reaches for George at every possible opportunity – be it night or day, alone in their quarters or in broad daylight as they make their way around the main deck, he clings to George like a limpet, mouthing at his neck where their mating bite sits high on the curve of his shoulder.
Dream isn’t one for public displays or excessive posturing – not when it’s just their crew, anyway – but the days before his rut are an exception. Dream is all over George like he needs to stake a claim, challenging in a way that is both unnecessary and thrilling, appealing to those soft parts of George’s brain that go mush knowing he has such a possessive alpha for a mate.
OR: They're pirates and Dream goes into rut. Only one of those things really matters to this story