#the deflection.... the denial......

[samijey]

Jey's off-mic comments towards Sami during this segment were WILD

[orbital-inclination]

“WHAT I NEVER TOLD YOU” 

Part 1, part 2 (you are here).

Summary: Dream wakes up in a strange place. His host seems kind enough, but there's something about her home that feels… off. He will need to leave if he wants to reunite with his brother. Later, Dream and Nightmare have a conversation to finish. Notes: Moltendreams!AU. Set some time after the brothers left Dreamtale during a time when they were still unfamiliar with the multiverse. General warnings for: dreamtale typical angst/drama, mild non-graphic injury, more references to past emotional manipulation and bullying, and parental neglect Wordcount: 6178

Something was wrong.

Dream stirred. He felt sluggish and weighed down. Pulled closer to the earth by the gentle press of the something that was draped over him. There was a soft surface underneath his cheek, it didn’t itch like grass, and it didn’t crackle like dry leaves when he moved. It took an embarrassing amount of time for his mind to make sense of that, trying and failing to justify why the ground he lay on didn’t feel right. He lifted his skull slowly, rubbing his cheek against the soft surface until the texture slotted a memory into place. This felt like... a stuffed quilt? He pulled an arm free from where it had been tucked close to his body and felt along the surface he lay on. The tip of a claw caught on something. Yep. Definitely a quilt. He could feel the cotton sandwiched between layers of fabric and the stitch between squares. That didn’t immediately alarm him, because his first assumption was that Night’ must’ve found a way to cross the river and found a place for them to stay. 

But... that explanation didn’t feel right. He couldn’t sense his brother nearby. The atmosphere was too... stifled. Syrupy, and thick. He almost felt loopy from it. Something wasn’t right.

Tentatively prodding around the quilt, and the surface he lay on, he discovered something else weird. 

He was laying underneath... a table? 

Reluctantly, Dream pushed himself upright— only to swallow back a strangled hiss as a pulse of pain and stiffness shot down his spine. Usually, the film that coated his bones took care of most things that caused him pain fairly quickly. He remembered slamming into the boulder, but he would have expected the injury to be gone by now. But, obviously, it wasn’t. Not good.

After waiting a moment, he tentatively propped himself upright again. This time, he moved slowly.

He had just enough room to rest on his elbows, slightly hunched over to avoid smacking the back of his skull on the surface above him. He mapped the space through touch and concluded that no. It was not a table. He was underneath someone’s bed. And it was a fairly large bed at that.

He was boxed in. The bed was shoved into the corner, which cut off two potential exits.  One end was blocked off by what he thought might be a chest. And whoever had set him up underneath the bed, had sealed the last opening with- oh. Oh, that was a teddy bear. They had sealed the last opening with plushies and cardboard boxes. Dream pulled the bear closer and gave it a squeeze, thinking. If the person who’d brought him here wanted to keep him trapped, they weren’t trying too hard. But... why put him under the bed? He didn’t feel like much of a guest, hidden away like this.

The hinges of a door creaked. Dream stilled. He hunched down, the tendrils on his back arching defensively. A hollow, tapping sound. A box was shifted, dragged across the floor slowly, and- “Oh! You’re awake!”

The voice belonged to someone who sounded roughly his age, maybe a little bit younger. Dream’s first impression of her was that she felt very bright. Or rather very warm, and it was a testament to how saturated this place was that he could only sense her clearly when she was this close. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Uh, I’m Noelle. I’m sure this must be confusing for you but you’re in my room right now. I found you by the river bank. You were unconsciously so…”

She did something, moved a certain way, but he couldn’t tell what she was doing. 

He hesitated for too long. Disappointed chipped at her warmth, cooling it. But the difference was slight. “I… um-“

“Why am I under your bed?”

Embarrassment. “Oh! W-well… my mom doesn’t like to have guests over unexpectedly but it seemed like you really needed help. I couldn’t leave you on the river bank like that! That area floods a lot.”

Dream canted his skull to the side. “So you’re hiding me from your mother?” 

The embarrassment worsened. Made bitter-sour by shame and nervousness. “I know it sounds really, really silly but… if you knew my mother, it would make sense.”

Well, it didn’t make sense to Dream now. Weren’t mothers supposed to be loving or something? The closest thing he had to a mother was Nim, but he hadn’t had a relationship with her. Not really. She had been a presence. A thing that was just sort of there, but didn’t do much. She said things, sometimes. But it was like an echo of a memory with no mind behind it.

“Are you a human or a monster?” He asked because sometimes that made a difference in these things. Surprise, confusion, and the sharp tang of incredulity. “Um. I’m obviously not a human? I’m a reindeer monster??” He gave her a moment. “Oh,” she said. “Oh. I... I didn’t realize. You can’t see me, can you?” Dream shook his head. “Where is my brother?” “Your... brother?” He tensed, and a pang of uneasiness shot through his chest and squeezed. “We were separated crossing the river. He was supposed to find me. How long have I been unconscious?”

“I... I don’t know. You were alone and unconscious when I found you. That was hours ago.“ Dream didn’t like that. Had something happened to Nightmare? The tendrils on his back lashed. “I need to get back to the river. He could be there right now.” “No! You can’t!”

He flinched away from her, soul beating fast.

Noelle swallowed. “I… I mean. It’s dark out now. Mom doesn’t allow me to leave the house after dark.”

Right. Because that was a thing mothers did. Nim had also given him and Nightmare rules to follow. Just two. And they had disobeyed both. “That’s okay. You don’t have to come with me. Just let me out and I’ll find my way.”

Noelle was quiet for a long moment. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He shifted, trying to show her that she had his full attention. And she did, but he was getting anxious now. He needed to reunite with his brother. He needed to apologize and know that he was okay and that nothing bad had happened to him. Something about this place didn’t feel right. Something was just off enough that he didn’t feel comfortable staying here longer than he had to be.

She didn’t reply. At that moment, a new sound interrupted the silence. A sharp rhythmic clicking. It grew steadily louder. Footsteps.

Noelle squeaked. “That’s my mother. I have to go. Don’t make any noise, okay?” The box was pushed back into place and the bed creaked above him. 

Dream lowered himself flat to the ground. He held his tentacles still, coiled close to his body. Was this normal? When Nim had been alive, had everyone been this nervous around her?

Seconds later, the footsteps stopped short. A creak, quiet at first. A whine. The hinges of the door protesting. And then, silence. Absolute silence.

Above him, Noelle’s nerves jumped and startled like rabbits. She seemed to be holding herself still as carefully as he was. Breath held. Waiting.

As the silence stretched, a chill crept down his spine. 

He shivered. Trying to make sense of the new taste to the magic pouring into the room. The stifling syrup-like nature of it hadn’t changed. If positivity was sweet like honey, then it was as though someone had dumped a box of salt into the jar. Something spoiled here. Something had been left to sit for too long. 

All the warmth had gone. The weight of it settled in slowly. It was blunt. And cold, not unlike fear. But many emotions could be cold, could turn cold, if given the right incentive. If Nightmare were here, he could tell Dream what it was. And how fear could feel so... hollowed out.  

...oh.

Apathy, Dream realized as another shiver worked its way through his bones. This was apathy. Not the absence of emotion, but the rejection of it. He pulled his limbs closer to his body. As though to hide the warmth there, like cupping his hands around the wick of a candle to shelter it from a draft. 

Nightmare hid his feelings behind apathy sometimes. And it was frightening, to witness his twin severe himself from his own feelings. It made something in his chest squeeze painfully. But the cold he felt from his brother was familiar and comforting in a way. This was not.

This magic… the person it belonged to… he could not imagine magic so oppressive would belong to a monster who felt freely able to express themselves. The weight of this magic did not belong to a tolerant person. It belonged to someone who felt they needed to be in control of everything, or the twisted thing deep within their heart would snap. 

Without warning the door creaked again and shut with a final click. 

Noelle waited a while to speak, listening for the sound of her mother’s footsteps to fade. When she did, she whispered. “That was a close one. We have to be careful to be quiet from now on.”

“Is she always like that?”

“… my mother doesn’t like to be disturbed,” Noelle answered. “I like to collect scary things. VHS tapes, books, cassettes. Everything. But if I’m too loud, if I’m too excited or too scared she’ll force me to turn it off or take it away from me... and I just… I just wanted this one thing for myself, y’know?” 

Dream felt something in his ribcage hitch. 

She slid off the bed, onto the floor, and moved next to him. 

“Does she know you’re unhappy here?” Noelle froze. Stuttered a noise of denial as something within her heart squirmed. Dream had his answer. “You don’t want her to know.” “Hahaha... I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I be unhappy? I mean... I have to hide things sometimes but... I live in a nice place. I... I like my town! I have my own room, my mom, my dad... why would I be unhappy?” “I don’t know,” Dream whispered. “I gave my village everything they ever wanted. Did everything they asked of me... but in the end, I don’t think anyone was truly happy.” Least of all himself, but to give that thought a voice felt selfish. What right did he have to complain, when his brother had gone through so much worse?

The shame and guilt were unbearable, suddenly. A sickly cold sank into the pit of his soul. He swallowed thickly, mana clotted in his throat, because how had he not seen the full extent his brother had been suffering? How had he not known? How had he not seen it?

He thought back to every bad day he could remember. Every question he asked that was brushed off. His brother’s stubborn silence. How tightly Nightmare would square his shoulders and turn away. And all those times Dream knew his brother was upset but felt he shouldn’t pry or chose not to. Prying would aggravate his brother and it was his purpose to spread positivity, wasn’t it? What good would it do to make Nightmare even more upset? 

He wished… he wished he had tried anyway. Instead of waiting and fruitlessly holding on to the belief that Nightmare would eventually tell him on his own. When he was ready. If Dream was patient enough and did as he was told.

How naive he’d been. If hiding pain under a facade of irritability was a skill then Nightmare had surely mastered it. Dream learned not to talk about certain things and especially not to express those feelings that were cold or black and didn’t belong on his side of the tree. 

He learned that quickly because it seemed to him whenever he expressed frustration or sadness or gave even the slightest hint that he was feeling anxious or stressed, someone would turn around and find a reason to blame the black apples for it. “Taint,” they’d warn, “you must stay pure of heart. It is in your brother’s nature to be cold, just as it’s yours to be kind and warm. You mustn’t allow him to influence you.”

“I think...” Dream began slowly, forcing his claws to unclench, buried so deeply into the quilt he lay on, he felt the wood underneath splitter. He forced himself to relax. Noelle needed his help right now. “I think you and your mother are not communicating something important. You are both scared. And because of that fear, you hide things from each other.” “It’s not that! She just overreacts, sometimes... when she thinks I’ve been hurt.” Her heart and mood quivered. She was sad and lonely and trying so hard to hide it. “She just wants to protect me.”

“But it hurts, doesn’t it? Her protectiveness is smothering. It threatens the things you care about.” Noelle swallowed. He heard it, underneath something that sounded like a strained laugh. “T-that’s silly! She’s my mother, I can trust her with anything.”

“Anything but the monster you’re keeping under your bed.” “I...” a flicker, and the strange denseness to the magic surrounding them rippled. Shame was the stone thrown into the murky pool. “If you truly felt that way, you wouldn’t have kept me here. You would have asked her for help but you didn’t,” Dream pressed, voice gentle but firm. “In your loneliness, you wanted to carve out a piece of happiness for yourself. But Noelle… you can’t keep me. I don’t belong here. I can’t make you happy.”

Noelle made a soft sound. Her voice cracked. “I wanted to make a decision on my own for once! I know she means well, and I... I’m too nervous to confront her. I feel powerless. But then I saw you on the river bank, it was different. I felt inspired? It was weird I...” 

A pause and a strange dizziness overcame her. He shifted in concern, debating whether or not he needed to move closer in case she toppled over. 

“I felt special. I knew I wanted to be your friend. No... I knew I had to be because… I couldn’t shake the feeling that I already knew who you were.”

“Friends don’t force each other to stay where they don’t want to be.”

The slight bite to his tone snapped Noelle out of her daze. He felt the snap, the sharp lick of regret, and could not tell who it belonged to. “I… I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It… it felt right at the time,” Noelle struggled for a moment. “I can’t… remember? There was something else but I don’t…”

Uneasiness swept through him. The tendrils he'd looped close to the quilt reared up warily, twisting over themselves in heed of his discomfort but unable to find the source.

“… what do you mean ‘it felt right’ ?”

“I can’t explain it. It just did, y’know? It was like one of those moments in a book when the world seems to pivot and the heroine realizes what she was meant to do.”

A shiver crawled down his spine. “Did you feel compelled to help me?”

“T-that’s a strange question. It’s what anyone would have done, isn’t it?”

He had nothing to say to that. Maybe. One would hope. But the situation still felt odd. She wanted to help him but didn’t want him to leave until he confronted her about it. It left a strange taste in his mouth.

“Will you let me up now?” He asked instead.

“Yes!” Noelle scrambled back and shoved boxes and plushies aside. One rolled over a tentacle so Dream grabbed it and set it next to the teddy bear he’d held earlier. There was a thump, as something that sounded like a book fell, and suddenly, it was just a little bit less stuffy underneath the bed. Dream felt along the edge of the bed frame above him and carefully crawled out. A sharp pain shot his spine as he stood, but he swallowed the hiss of pain in his throat and it faded, after a moment. 

The floorboards creaked underfoot. Noelle shifted her weight, a dim but growing cold spot of nervousness. “What happened? Between you and your village, I mean.” His soul skipped a beat. “I don’t know,” He didn’t want to talk about it, and he especially didn't want to talk about himself. “We left.” “Oh.” A pause and she said quietly. “Dess talked about moving to the city. She wanted to take me with her to explore the city together. Leaving without her doesn’t feel right, I don’t think I’m ready yet but, maybe someday.” And Dream thought about the tree and his brother. He vividly remembered climbing the hill, running, and the dry grass lashing at his hands and clothes. The voices shouting to be heard over the rumble of approaching thunder. His brother, cornered against the trunk—

“You... you’re not going to encourage me to talk to her?”

“You know your mother better than I,” he said, and distantly wished he could blink away the memory. Over and over again, it looped. “I never went to my brother with my problems because I didn’t want him to think less of me... I regret that now.” Nightmare thought poorly of him anyway. So it hadn’t mattered. “But I was never afraid of my brother. Not in the same way you seem to be of her.”

“I’m not... afraid of my mother,” Noelle said somewhat hesitantly. “It’s just hard to talk to her. She doesn’t like to be interrupted and... the town is more important.” “Is it?”  Bitterness dripped from his teeth. Hot in his mouth. Sometimes, it was easy to doubt himself. When he stole anger like a thief, he could only assume the villager elders had been right. He should have been more careful around the tree. But the branches sprouted from the same trunk. Black or gold, the apples came from the place, so there must have been something rotten in his soul from the start. 

Noelle startled. A skipped beat. And Dream took a breath. “You are part of the town too, aren’t you? Why are you excluded from the same care?”

“I…” she swallowed, overwhelmed by too many emotions to name at once. Most of them leaned close to sadness. “I never thought of it that way… you-you’re right. I’m part of this town too and… I don’t know if she’ll hear me out, but I’ll try. At the very least I have to look after myself better.”

Dream nodded, and the bitter, writhing thing in his chest settled. He wished he had looked after his twin better. “Don’t smother your loneliness.” 

“I won’t,” And then added somewhat hesitantly. “Do you still want to leave?”

She felt sad. Sadness was heavy and sank deep throughout one’s heart. It had the flavor of ice, without the bite of cold and he felt it as deeply as if it were his own. But, it didn’t make sense for the feeling to be this strong. Why did she want to be his friend so badly?

… he didn’t want to stay for much longer. 

“I can’t stay. I have to find my brother. I’m sure he’s worried, and I’m worried about him too.”

To his relief, she understood. “We’ll have to be quiet. I’m… actually surprised mom wasn’t woken up by all that.”

Noelle meekly suggested he take her hand so he wouldn't get lost. The cabin was huge, apparently. Dream offered a compromise and held on to the corner of her sleeve instead.

She led him to the door and into the hall beyond it. They walked, stopped to listen, took a turn, and then another. Dream kept one tendril on the wall to keep himself oriented, making note of the changing texture and the stray accent table that came out of nowhere. Someone ought to put bells on those things. 

Eventually, the wall ended. The sound of their footsteps changed and every breath and rustle of fabric echoed cavernously.

He only knew when Noelle took him behind a sofa because he bumped his knee into it. She directed him to a wall (it was made of skinned logs fitted together like the pieces of a puzzle with something that felt like coarse hardened clay holding it all together. Dream withdrew his hand quickly when he felt a cobweb. Spiders worked so hard on their nests.) and then to a windowsill. “All the doors and windows squeak but this one— it's a bay window. It swings open on your right— it’s the quietest. The sill is meant for sitting... um, do you need help climbing up?” He shook his head and easily pulled himself up onto the windowsill. He’d climbed trees all his life. This was nothing.

“Okay. On the count to three. One. Two. Three.” The window whined, loudly. Dream flinched and next to him, he felt Noelle jump. Her soul lurching in a half second of fright. They waited a long moment, breath held, but aside from the muffled sound of a nearby tree scratching the roof, the cabin was still.

“You better go now. Mom could’ve heard that,” Noelle said, the focus of her attention elsewhere. Dream tried to follow it, but he couldn’t figure out what she was focusing on. “I never asked for your name, did I..? That… that doesn't make sense. I really did just.. bring a stranger into my house like that.”

Dream nodded. “You could have picked a worse person to sneak into your house. My name is Dream, by the way. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Y-you're welcome?” Sometimes, it was possible to hear someone growing pale. By the sound of her voice, he imagined her face had lost all its color. “I’m sorry for involving you in this and basically kidnapping you? Oh-my-stars. I kidnapped you!”

“Hardly. I was unconscious and too close to the river bank. But you did try to keep me here,” he added, but she was already very stressed and it was making him stressed, so he hastily continued. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I don’t think you were in your right mind anyway. Will you be okay with your mother?”

“Y-yes. I think so. I mean, it's just…” she sighed. “It’s complicated. But dad is here too, so. I’ll ask him for help if I think I need it.” 

Her voice was warm again, and it was slight, but for a moment, he almost couldn’t taste the sickly quality to the magic surrounding the cabin. “Thank you. I feel better now. I hope you can find your brother.”

He nodded, and murmured a thank you and goodbye because leaving someone’s home was always somewhat awkward. He turned, swung his legs over the ledge, and dropped down. 

Leaves and grit crunched under his feet. He waited a moment. Just to be sure. He canted his skull toward the window, listening, then he picked a direction that felt right, and started walking.

Gradually, the ground began to dip into a shallow slope, and though he could not hear the river yet, Dream knew he was close. The ground was damp, soaked through either from rain or because of its proximity to the river. He stepped through the underbrush carefully, mindful of the way his boots sank into cold mud.

The forest floor was a knotted mass of roots, rotting leaf litter, and moss. Twice, Dream almost tripped. So he spread his tentacles wide, two held wide and arching, level with his skull so he wouldn't walk headlong into a low-hanging branch. And two low to the ground, so he wouldn’t trip again.

A quiet crunch echoed from somewhere in the undergrowth. Dream paused, angled his skull towards the sound, and held his breath because the atmosphere felt cooler and less stifled in this direction.

“...Nightmare?”

“Dream!” The shout back was immediate. His ribcage hitched. He took three quick steps forward and broke into a run. He heard the snap of a twig underfoot and the branches of a bush part. Pure relief washed over him. Cool and warm at once. The weight of his brother’s magic was unmistakable. 

The rough bark of a tree snagged his tunic and he stumbled.

Two hands caught his shoulders. Dream redirected his balance and quickly latched onto his brother’s sleeve. Nightmare was not hurt, he could immediately tell. Worried and stressed, yes, but not hurt. Thank the heavens.

“Are you alright? What happened?” A sharp lick of concern. “You’re in pain.” Nightmare’s grip tightened for a moment. Dream felt one check, then two, as his brother looked him over.

He shot one back, just to make a point. He was too relieved to be truly bothered by the fussing. 

“That’s from the river. It��s better than it was. I’m fine.” and honesty? So much had happened in the last however-many-hours-it’d-been he hadn’t noticed the ache until Nightmare had pointed it out. “The family that found me was kind. They didn’t hurt me.” Nightmare released him and stepped back. “Stars... I should never have led you across. We should have waited for the river to level. Or for the rapids to settle or-”

Dream shook his head. “We had to cross somewhere. I could’ve just as easily warned you it was a bad idea. But I was…” too upset. Too consumed by hurt and frustration to really consider what it meant when the sound of the river had grown so violent. If he had just stopped to think. If he hadn’t lashed out...

The tight feeling returned to his chest. 

“I’m sorry.” he choked. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I didn’t mean it. I was angry.“

“No, I…” Nightmare took a breath. “I should be the one apologizing. It was reckless to cross the river right there. I snapped at you. I hurt you. I knew better, but I didn’t care. I’m sorry.”

Nightmare didn’t... apologize often. He meant it sincerely when he did, but it was just the sort of thing his brother struggled with. Dream forced his jaw to unlock, he wasn’t angry. He was as tense as a spring, but he wasn’t angry. Not with his brother. He didn’t need to feel Nightmare’s remorse to know how much he meant it.

“But you were right… I wasn’t… I wasn’t there when you needed me. I prioritized the needs of the village over you. I saw how sad and lonely you were and still I... the why of it doesn’t matter now.”

“How could you not?” His magic was cool, a shallow pool of shade. His actions seemed logical to his brother. And that made it worse. Dream ducked his skull, feeling wretched. “They gave us clothes and attention. A purpose when Nim felt more like a ghost than the Goddess they later insisted she was. How were we supposed to interpret her will when her voice had been gutted and theirs spoke louder?”

He nodded, once and didn’t raise his head. ‘-it is in your brother’s nature to be cold.’ and Nim’s voice had always felt like the echo of a memory to him, not really there at all. He wondered, idly if they had ever really heard her. 

“We never heard contradictory ideas, did we? You were the only one who questioned anything.”

“I only questioned them because of the way they treated me.” Nightmare said bitterly. “We have books to thank for that. I knew what I was experiencing was unjust, but I couldn’t articulate why until I began reading. That village was full of hypocrites.”

Dream nodded again, heart pinched tight by a dark emotion he couldn’t name but was altogether painful. “They were scared of you.” 

His brother was quiet for a moment, not quite seething but close. “They resented me more than they feared me. I think I would have preferred fear. If they had been scared enough, they would have left me alone.” “Don’t say that,” Dream whispered. “Fear would have led to resentment anyway. They would’ve done worse.” “Worse,” Nightmare echoed, frigid and biting. “Do you know why I reached for the apple, Dream?” ‘Don’t...’ Dream wanted to say. ‘I already know why, please don’t say it.’ Words were stones and bile behind his teeth, he swallowed them down. 

“I was convinced I was going to die.” the simmering anger that had gradually been building behind his brother’s heart suddenly evaporated, released in a deep breath. “If... if you hadn’t arrived when you did...” His voice tapered off. Neither of them wanted to hear the end of that sentence. 

Guilt soured the silence. The pit of it gutted his brother. Dream looked up. The dark cold made his brother seem frail. It reminded him of the worst days. And the bitter rage he had felt when his brother had dismissed him now seemed like a pathetic response. 

“I’m sorry. What I said to you was cruel.” “It was,” Nightmare said, voice quiet. Dream flinched despite knowing the truth of it. He had hurt his brother. And he had said what he did knowing that it would. “You were right. I did reach for the apple first. I didn’t have a choice, in the moment, I truly believe that. But I... I regret what happened afterward. Dream, it’s because of me that you…”

His brother didn’t finish.

“That I… what?” He hasn’t meant it… as a warning. His voice sounded hollow even to his own mind. He wasn’t even sure what he was warning his brother not to say. But something was balanced, precariously on a knife’s edge. And it was tittering.

Dream felt his brother’s rapid pulse of guilt-anxiety thrum and Nightmare said, softly and carefully. Words chosen at length. “You were despondent for three days. I don’t think you realized we had left the village by then. You wouldn’t sit unless I told you to. You barely moved. And for a time, I worried that the dust might have stuck to your clothes or that somehow I’d missed it on mine and that was why—“

Oh. For a moment he thought Nightmare was going to bring up something else. (It wouldn’t surprise if his brother had wisely decided to change what he wanted to say at the last second.) He didn’t remember that. Something in his own chest sped up. Pounding hard. “Why would there be dust on our clothes?”

Nightmare went very still. “... why would there be— you don’t...”

Was he talking about the axe? “It only struck me once,” Dream said, and hoped that might be reassuring to remember. 

He didn’t understand the emotion he felt in his brother’s stare. “Right…the woodsman’s axe,” Nightmare said, slowly, muttering to himself afterward in words Dream couldn’t catch. 

The sound of a woodsman chopping wood on the edge of town had been the other reason why they’d left it so quickly. It did something to his soul that Dream didn’t have a word for. The sound made his chest hurt even though it’d been a long time since that wound had healed. It put Nightmare on edge too. Maybe thats why they’d been so short with each other.

Nightmare shook himself. “The river didn’t reopen something, did it?”

Dream snorted. His brother was such a mother hen sometimes. “It’s been years, Night’, I think we’re long past the risk of that.”

His brother clicked his teeth. “Do not overestimate the strength of newly healed bones.”

“The wound is hardly new now,” and then Dream frowned, and said quietly. “I don’t blame you, Night’. It wasn’t your fault. I said that because I was upset... but didn’t mean it.” But he could tell his brother didn’t believe him. Nightmare said nothing for a beat, and Dream tried and failed to think of something to say to prove to his brother that he meant it.

“It's not like you to lose your temper. Before we crossed the river, you were trying to tell me something but I interrupted you. What were you going to say?”

Oh. Maybe the conversation should have ended there. Dream shifted, uncomfortable. “It’s nothing.” “No,” Nightmare said, voice firm. And Dream could vividly imagine the frown on his face. “It’s not nothing. You are a difficult person to anger to that extent, Dream. I know I... said somethings that I shouldn’t have, just before... what were you going to say?” A part of him bristled. It was a small part, and he did his best to bury it. He knew though, as he felt Nightmare’s scrutiny intensify, that the attempt was pointless. He supposed it was a bit like trying to hide lightning. “... Earlier you told me I left you alone with the people who hated you. And you were right. I knew they distrusted you, I didn’t understand how deep it ran but even if I had, I... don't think any other outcome was possible for us.” He crossed his arms over his chest to hide the slight tremble in his hands and vainly hoped his brother didn’t notice that either. “I only did what I was told to, ‘Night. I thought I could make everyone happy. I thought I was being selfless by putting their needs—the needs of everyone above ours. But in the end, it never felt like a choice. I... I think I only succeeded in spreading selfishness.”

“I should have known,” Nightmare’s voice was hoarse and brittle. “I should have known... they used you too.” 

The crunch of leaves. A step taken closer while Dream struggled to wrangle the writhing thing in his heart. His ribcage hitched. Used? He would’ve never called it that. He didn’t want to call it that. He couldn’t think of it that way because then he would have to acknowledge that the people he’d loved had not only lied but used him too and— he found himself wrapped up in a tight hug.

“I'm sorry. We didn’t look after each other very well, did we?”

It felt like there was a dam behind his sockets. Burning, burning. But the tears wouldn’t come. He hiccuped and buried his face in the collar of his brother’s shirt. The arms wrapped around him squeezed. There was no judgment, no mocking sneers or scoffs. No teasing. Just marrow-deep sympathy and a shared raw pain he didn’t think would ever truly go away.

“It’s okay, Dream. We’re going to be okay,” Nightmare whispered and Dream wanted to cry all over again but couldn’t. It didn’t feel okay. When has anything his brother gone through been okay? It seemed like nothing had been okay for a long time. He didn’t like feeling like this. But he allowed himself to be held and rocked until the thoughts of a place he could never return to slowly faded, and the shaking subsided.

When Dream felt... not quite calm, but tired and spent, he stepped back. Nightmare let his arms fall. “I think I can take us out of here now. Something changed just before I found you. I felt a shift... Did something happen with the family that found you?” Instead of answering, Dream nodded in, at least he hoped, the direction he came from. He was too tired to explain the strange magic he’d felt in Noelle’s house.

His brother was thoughtful for a pressing second, then said, gently. “Whatever you did, it helped. Let’s leave it at that and get out of here before anything else happens.” Dream agreed wholeheartedly. He hoped whenever they went next didn’t have a woodsman. “Do you think there is a world out there without a forest?”

The question startled a chuckle from his brother. “You want to go somewhere without trees?” He felt a palm press to his forehead. “Are you ill, brother? Do you have a fever, perhaps?”

Dream swatted his hand away. He was too tired to fight the small smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Where there are no trees, there is no axe.” “I’ve read of places where there is sand instead of dirt, for as far as the eye can see, and grass refuses to grow there.” Now, he could believe that first part. After all, some river banks and dry creek beds were like that, but where grass will not grow? There was no way. “You’re lying. You’re making that up!”  

Nightmare laughed and easily dodged his second attempt at smacking him. Cheater. “I don’t know when we’ll find such a place, but I promise one day I’ll take you there.”

“You read too much,” Dream commented, dryly. And if Nightmare wasn’t smiling, he was wearing an expression close to it. He reached for his brother’s hand, without hesitation this time. Nightmare took it, and in a blink, they left the forest and the AU behind.

[floorpancakes]

bro.....

[traumatizedjaguar]

Abusers will get angry with you for you not being able to figure out that they’re manipulating you.

They think you’re weak and stupid for not being able to figure it out. So they’re blaming you for them manipulating you. They’re proud of themselves for manipulating/deceiving/abusing you. Everything is competition to an abuser.

“How dare you try to ask me personal questions to get to know me?” -abuser

Sweetheart, that’s what human beings do. But you’re not human I guess so you wouldn’t know that.

You say to us survivors “I don’t trust you” “I don’t like you” “you’re trying to manipulate me” you might be seeing yourself in everyone else.

You always say ��nobody will ever get to really know me!”

I’ll tell you who you are. You surround yourself with people smaller and more vulnerable than you to exploit and manipulate. To validate your own existence. Because you ain’t shit. You’re nothing. There is nobody to get to know.

[boyczar]

rainy day schedule

[giftedeath]

@crownedhopelesss & @sunnydalescoobiies / rivals to lovers starters ; ❛ for being someone you hate, i'm sure on your mind a lot. ❜

❛  yeah sure spike, in  a  …  you’re  toothless  and  do  nothing  but  annoy  me,  stupid  and  irritating  way.  ❜  deflection  came  easy,  she  had  ENOUGH  practice  at  it  by  now.  it  was  strange,  ever  since  willow’s  spell  had  gone  wonky,  and  she  had  come  to ; straddling  him  mid-kiss.  she  couldn’t  stop  the  dreams  that  came  along  with  it.  dreams  of  herself,  her  fingers  latched  in  his  hair,  his  breath  on  her  skin  …  disgusting,  nasty,  𝒂𝒏𝒅  𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚  𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕  𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈,  wrong, wrong,  wrong.  it  was  like  he  knew,  too  …  wouldn’t  just  leave  her  alone.  even  teased  riley  about  it  relentlessly.  and  he  still  wasn’t  wrong.  ❛  you’re  not  special  y’know.  i’m  just  used  to  you,  you’re  like  …  like  a  stray  dog  that  just  won’t  give  up.  ❜

[linpunny]

I’m pulling my hair out and banging my head on the wall

I refuse to accept the moon phase trend I did it and I’m

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

🔥 about any ship

...

......

:3

That speaks for itself, I think.

[rindomness]

this wip should really be focused on lying instead of handedness huh. 'something pretentious about handedness and homoeroticism' is out 'something pretentious about lying and homoeroticism' is in cause oh boy those boys sure can tell some fucking lies

[klaeusd]

edits.  mutuals may rb.

[immaculatasknight]

Too quick to the draw

[ddejavvu]

Mean!Logan who absolutely will NOT kiss you on the mouth while he’s fucking you. You’re crying and begging and so so desperate for it but he just will not give in, loves to watch you cry and cry even while your whole body shakes and your eyes roll back from how deep he is in you

Logan won't kiss you

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: mean!logan, teasing, dacryphilia, don't like don't read.

a/n: anon i hope you know this made me moan. shit the first line almost had me creaming my jeans. thank you <33333333333

It's a tease, being given so much and yet nothing at all. Logan's strong hips are steadily thrusting against your own, driving his cock in and out of your cunt that begs for nothing more, but you're being held tantalizingly close to the precipice of your orgasm solely from the denial of a kiss.

Logan's mouth is heaven.

Whether against your own or against another part of you, your sensitive nipples or your throbbing pussy, his mouth has always brought you to completion. You yearn for it now, with sharp aches and pleas from your drooling cunt as he fucks into you, but he refuses to give you what you want- what you need.

"What's'a matter?" He drawls, and by the condescension in his voice, by the sharp, rigid smirk on the mouth of his that you want so bad, you know he knows, "What gives, you don't like me or somethin'?"

"Logan," You whine for mercy, tears beading in your eyes as you grip his biceps and attempt to hoist yourself up to kiss him. He deflects skillfully, pushing you back down to the mattress.

"No, no, don't be greedy. My dick isn't enough? Looks like it is." He muses, eyeing the way your cunt slobbers on his length, coating it generously in your thick, slick arousal.

"Look at you, you're ruined," Logan scoffs, panting through the continuous motions of his hips, "And you still want more."

"I want a kiss," You feel pitiful whining like that, and he laughs like you are.

"Oh, princess wants a kiss, is that it? All this cock and what you really want is my mouth?"

"Yes," You gasp, tears flooding down your cheeks at the contempt in his eyes, even if its staged, "Please Logan, please, I jus- I just want one kiss, please." You try yet again to raise your head, but he won't take the bait- he sneers like you're nothing but an annoyance.

"No." He decides simply, hips only snapping faster and faster, harder and harder into your cunt, "You have enough. Use it."

You do. You clench around his cock, thighs squeezed together so that your entrance is as tight as possible. You feel every inch of his impressive length as it pounds in and out of your pussy, you feel pleasure in every fiber of your being, and yet- it's the visual of Logan's tongue flicking out over his lips after a hefty exhale that finally sends your brain and body into overdrive.

His lips, thin and a shade pinker than his skin, look so enticing, and the way that his tongue laves over them leaving translucent saliva behind sends sparks between your legs like nothing you've ever felt without Logan's mouth. You wish it was yours, you wish his tongue was dipping into your mouth the way it does so often, licking every inch of your skin, tasting every part of you there ever has been.

You cum hard and you cum almost painfully, writhing on the bed covered in tears and sweat. There's surely a pool of slick beneath your ass on the bed from where your cunt has drooled onto the sheets but Logan will clean it up later- if you're lucky, from you with the mouth you're still fantasizing about.

"There, that wasn't hard," Logan hums, crooning tenderly like he's taking care of you as he finally dips down to press a firm kiss against the slack ring of your mouth. It's late, but better than never. You exhale shakily as he kisses you, a balm to soothe the hurt feelings of his denial, and he chuckles as you twitch beneath him. He leaves his cock buried in your warm, twitching cunt- he hasn't finished himself, but he'll feed his cock down your throat later- anytime you cum and he doesn't you offer to help him out. Watching the way that your eyes blink hazily at him post-kiss is certainly helping him along, and he won't take long up against the warm wet seal of your mouth.

"Poor thing is sensitive." He nudges his nose against your own, muscles bulging as he keeps himself hovering over you, "Can't handle being used, hm? Gotta be loved?"

"I love you," You whisper pitifully, chasing his mouth with a desperate, sticky kiss of your own, "Logan, I- I love you, mm-"

"Alright, alright." He mumbles through your sloppy attempts at kissing him, muffled by your lips, "Alright, crybaby, 'love you too."

[tryckthebard]

Tryck is happy enough with the deflection, not wanting to dwell on the thoughts of his own past. He's no idea whatever had happened to that Ringmaster when the town they were in had driven him out after Khala helped Tryck expose him for what he was. The bard hasn't seen that man's face in a decade, and he's happy to never think about it again.

He smiles at the compliment, though, moving a little closer as he looks up at the vampire. He's more than happy to go back to basking in the lingering pleasure from last night, especially as the near hours mean more trudging through the countryside to find the wretched goblin camp.

No, he'd rather stay here in this moment for a little while longer. Who knows when they'll have another chance to sneak off like this? The bard isn't too keen on letting it end just yet, and the other's haven't come looking for them.

"I may have been told that a time or two, but not by anyone nearly as handsome and alluring as you, my dear." Tryck grins with his words, reaching up to brush a stray strand of white locks back behind the high elf's ear before stretching up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

There is something tender about this moment in spite of the obvious pain it brings up not only Astarion's part but also Tryck's. He'd known they were a kindred spirit from the moment they met but he hadn't known just how much Tryck understood him.

And he hates it. Not because he hates that someone sees past the front but because Tryck has suffered at the hands of a monster, too. Abuse that neither of them should have ever gone through.

Whoever this master of Tryck's is, he hopes him to be dead, because if Astarion ever gets his hand on him, he'll wish he was.

The thought of letting any of them see the scars on his back make him uncomfortable but he knows that if he were to ask Karlach, she'd be happy to help. She wouldn't judge him and she'd leave things alone if he asked her to. Maybe asking her is the best route.

"Perhaps. I don't want to think about it any longer, however." No, it's enough dwelling on Cazador for now. It's a beautiful day, he doesn't want to ruin it, and what should be after morning glow by talking about Cazador.

So, he switches topics, deflecting.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look in the sunlight?"

[evendrierguys]

btw. still loving this book

[veltana]

Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader

✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).

✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️

Masterlist | AO3

The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."

Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.

Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.

Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.

When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.

When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.

You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”

"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.

"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.

"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.

"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.

"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.

"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."

You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.

You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.

After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.

It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.

You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.

"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”

"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”

"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."

Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.

Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.

"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.

"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.

You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.

"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"

He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."

He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.

Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.

It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.

When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."

You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.

The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.

Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.

"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.

He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.

"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.

Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.

"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.

“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.

"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.

He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."

It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.

"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."

You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.

Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.

"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.

His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.

"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"

The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.

When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.

When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.

Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."

A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed

[lauraneedstochill]

if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—

scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.

gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:

now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.

📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.

he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.

📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.

📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.

📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.

when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.

📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.

📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.

📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.

📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.

📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:

it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.

I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:

I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:

Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.

would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.

+ other things worth talking about:

📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.

📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.

📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.

there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.

+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.

P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿