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Ourselves in Exile

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Dreaming is a strange affair as a member of the Nightmare Troupe. It’s not much different from the waking world and having group dreams is common among members. Emotions are more raw in the Nightmare Realm, which can be a blessing or a curse. Sometimes fights break out between members; sometimes they find it easier to say what they wouldn’t awake.

They don’t often have nightmares though, a gift maybe, for being connected to the Nightmare Heart. They are free to traverse the Nightmare Realm as it is, although only a few senior members have the ability to actually travel into nightmares or watch them.

The Nightmare King himself occasionally will visit members while they sleep but it’s a rare occurrence. He uses it to intimidate or to simply be a bother. Mostly, he is just a feeling, a presence, always there in the Realm. Like the ever beating Heart. Grimm tends to get more visits than most, of course. He is the Vessel and the Nightmare King is his God.

That is not to say that the Nightmare King does not enjoy annoying Grimm. Grimm gets cocky from time to time, forgets his place. The Nightmare King is always there to remind him why he exists.

Sometimes Grimm wakes up with scratches, red and burning. He wears his cloak drawn a bit tighter for days. Grimm is the King’s favorite toy after all. So it’s never really a surprise when the Nightmare King shows up to interrupt Grimm’s time spent in the Realm.

That’s not to say it doesn’t surprise others.


“You should be this bold when we’re awake…” Grimm purrs, face flustered.

Brumm nips at his neck, mask thrown somewhere, and his hands greedily grabbing at his master’s hips. “It’s...harder to ignore what you do to me when we’re dreaming,” he murmurs, erection rubbing against Grimm’s.

Grimm chuckles, legs tightening around Brumm’s waist, “You shouldn’t ignore it in the first place.”

“I want to keep some form for decency,” Brumm replies, lifting him up so his cock can rub against Grimm’s entrance. “You love to tease me at the worst times, master,” his voice is low, adoring, but more than a little aroused.

“Is that why you cornered me here?” Grimm teases, rubbing himself against Brumm’s length, “Did I tease you too much?”

“Attempting to give me a handjob during dinner when we had a show right after was a bit frustrating,” he hums, ignoring Grimm’s attempts to get him to slip inside. He pulls Grimm’s hips up higher and the Troupe Master gives a growl. “Especially when you went to sleep right after.”

“You could have woken me up,” he tries to grind downward, claws digging into Brumm’s shoulders.

“This is much more fun,” he thrusts up, cock rubbing up and past his slit and against his own erection, but still does not penetrate.

“Are you teasing me ?” Grimm asks, a hint of awe in his voice, and ample frustration.

“Do you not like it?” Brumm slides a hand between them, two fingers dipping inside of Grimm’s cunt easily. He jerks his hips forward with a growl but then Brumm pulls his fingers back, pressing them into his own mouth to clean them.

Grimm moans lowly, eyes shining brightly and his legs shaking. “Just...fuck me already.”

Brumm hums again, giving a much slower rub down his length and cunt with his own cock. His teeth graze Grimm’s neck. “You get so vulgar when you're upset. It’s an honor to hear it,” he growls.

He shudders, cock twitching and cunt dripping, “I’ll wake myself up and when I get into your room, there will be no hiding what is happening from the rest of the Troupe.”

“As if they don’t already know…” Brumm mumbles, but, nonetheless, he sheathes himself inside Grimm with a sharp thrust. Grimm snarls, tossing his head back. Brumm can’t help but sink his teeth into his exposed neck.

The result is instant as Grimm clenches and cums just from the bite. “B-Brumm?!” He moans out sharply, shocked. Brumm is always teasing with his teeth but Grimm never thought he would turn the tables and bite him . Brumm just hums, drawing his tongue across the bite lazily as he sets his pace of thrusts. Grimm is hypersensitive after just cumming and he whines loudly.

“That...could become addictive,” Brumm’s breathing is labored and he tightens his grip on Grimm’s hips. His thrusts are sharp and the sudden burst of energy from the blood is a shock to his senses.

Grimm hisses, “S-save it for special occasions.” He tries to sound stern but it’s hard with Brumm ramming into him and his cock pinned between their bodies.

“If you insist, Master,” he uses the title playfully and accompanies it with a roll of his hips that hits Grimm’s g-spot enough to make his legs quiver around his waist. Brumm presses his face to Grimm’s neck, breathing in his scent. He speeds up his thrusts, desperate after all the day’s teasing.

Grimm is close again when he feels heat behind him. “Don’t…panic, okay?” He whispers, right next to Brumm’s head. His grabs Brumm’s face, pulling him up to kiss him and grinding himself roughly onto his cock. Any questions Brumm had about the statement is drowned out by the kiss.

“Putting on a show without me?” It’s a voice too much like Grimm’s but there’s an otherworldly quality to it. Grimm growls and Brumm jerks his head away from the kiss. “In my own realm and I wasn’t even invited…”

“Don’t stop. Don’t give him the satisfaction,” Grimm commands as Brumm’s eyes flick to the Nightmare King. He’s close, right behind Grimm, but Grimm makes sure to jerk his hips to keep Brumm distracted and hard. The Nightmare King flashes Brumm a too sharp smirk. Brumm swallows, pressing his face back to Grimm’s shoulder and trying to keep his thrusts from faltering.

“Don’t be rude, Troupe Master…” the King purrs, claws running down Grimm’s back. He leans his chin against his shoulder, watching where the two bodies join. His claws trace down Grimm’s side, slipping between them and wrapping around Grimm’s cock. His hips quiver and the resulting tightening of his cunt draws a low groan from Brumm. The Nightmare King chuckles, raspy and dark, “What’s yours is mine, after all…”

Leave .” Grimm snarls, clinging to Brumm possessively.

The God tuts disapprovingly, “I think there’s room for one more in this dance,” he hooks a claw under Brumm’s chin pulling his head up, “I doubt Brumm here would complain…”

Another noise of possessiveness leaves Grimm but he glances up at Brumm, who just tears his eyes away from the King’s hypnotic gaze. The blood Brumm had drank made him too hot, too needy, and both Grimm and his God knew that. Brumm’s cock throbs in Grimm’s cunt and, instead of a reply, Brumm pulls Grimm into a harsh kiss. Grimm can taste his own blood and his head spins.

Behind him, the Nightmare King growls in pleasure at the display. He places one hand over Brumm’s at Grimm’s hip and it takes everything Brumm has not to flinch at the heat. Grimm’s body temperature is hot but the King is smoldering. Grimm shudders when he feels the Nightmare King’s cock press against his ass, sticky and burning. He waits until Brumm has lifted Grimm’s hips while pulling back in a thrust before pushing his cock against Brumm’s.

“M-master?” Brumm groans, eyes flashing in worry as he holds Grimm up. His voice is forced and it’s obvious he doesn’t exactly want to stop fucking Grimm.

The King answers for him, “He can take it.”

Grimm can’t even reply, shaking as he is, and instead just kisses Brumm’s neck, drawing his attention back to him. Brumm lowers Gimm’s hips, his cunt stretching to accommodate both cocks and Grimm moans into Brumm’s fur. The ridges on the Nightmare King’s cock rub against Brumm’s own member and the heat of it makes him inhale sharply. Grimm is always tight but being filled by two cocks makes him feel almost strangling to Brumm. He almost doesn’t notice that Grimm is actually squeezing around them, inner walls convulsing. Brumm feels the King laugh, his hand stroking Grimm’s cock.

“Did you cum just from being filled?” The Nightmare King pulls his cock back first before pushing to back in and rubbing against Brumm.

Grimm just lets out a weak growl. Brumm pulls him closer, thrusting into him at the same time the Nightmare King moves out. The alternating paces makes Grimm shake and the brief moments both cocks are in him makes him whine in pleasure. The Nightmare King keeps his hand tightened around Grimm’s erection, pumping him out of sync from the other movements. Every sensation is overwhelming, heightened by his sensitivity and the strength of the Nightmare Realm. Brumm, himself, isn’t sure how much longer he can last, groaning softly as he shifts Grimm so he can thrust deeper.

“He’s close again. Why don’t you show him how much you love him, Brumm?” The Nightmare King whispers harshly, claws digging into Grimm’s hip. It’s a low blow but that’s what the King enjoys most. He loves to remind all of his followers of their worst fears and it’s so easy with Brumm and Grimm. They both fear falling in love.

Brumm’s head spins and he opens his mouth to protest but Grimm cuts him off, “Brumm doesn’t have to do anything for you or me .”

The King chuckles, “Oh, don’t play games with his heart, Troupe Master.”

Grimm buries his face deeper into Brumm’s fur, face burning, “I-I am doing no such thing!” His voice cracks because he’s hit hard by the statement. It hurts and Brumm can’t help but want to comfort him. Brumm grabs Grimm’s chin, forcing him into a kiss and Grimm’s shoulders slump. He kisses back with tongue and teeth, grabbing Brumm’s face between his hands. He tries to tell Brumm everything he can’t put into words with the kiss but it doesn’t matter anyway. Brumm already knows.

Brumm fucks him relentlessly, and the Nightmare King follows his pace with a smirk. Brumm doesn’t even bother giving a warning as he cums inside of Grimm, but he groans against Grimm’s mouth. Grimm follows with his own orgasm, pulling back from the kiss to press his face to Brumm’s neck. His whole body shakes and Brumm holds him tightly. The Nightmare King thrusts a few more times, pressing into Grimm and rubbing against Brumm’s cock until he cums inside as well. The heat of his cum makes Grimm hiss and he shifts to move farther away from the King.

“Time to wake up,” the King of Nightmares purrs, pulling away.

Any afterglow the two could have had is stolen away as they both jerk awake in their own respective rooms, alone and sore. They don’t bring it up, they never do, but later that day, Brumm places a hand softly to Grimm’s neck and watches him flinch.

“Sore?” He teases.

“Marks don’t usually carry over from dreaming to waking,” Grimm frowns, his own hand covering his neck.

Brumm hums, pulling back his cape to see the bite mark. “Now you know how I feel.”