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moosesarecute · 24 days ago

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Chapter 19: The Shadow to my Flame

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The continent was simply amazing. She had eaten so much food, drunk too much wine and gone on so many adventures. Ashe and Lucien had travelled from place to place. Both by winnowing, but also by walking. They had spent days in both woods and mountains. Lucien had taught her about all the different plants and flowers. Ashe didn’t have a lot to teach Lucien, but her curiosity made the trip more adventurous for both of them.

Lucien was known for many social connections. Ashe, however, could easily have known more people than he did if she had been allowed to explore. She had become friends with everyone. All the people they had met had been so kind and happy to see her. In return, Ashe had showed her curiosity, and she had listened as strangers told her about all and nothing. She had learned about so many different lives. Some had taught her recipes, others had told her about myths and fables. Ashe had learned enough in just one month to write an entire book of random stories.

“You should definitely become an emissary,” Lucien told her. His voice annoyed her. “So many people are oversharing with you after just one smile. It’s almost scary.”

Ashe had to admit she had been thinking about it. She had always known she loved speaking to people, but this last month had been something other entirely. She felt connected to all the people she had met. After just one conversation she felt like she had gotten new friends.

On the other side, maybe it only meant she should socialize more. That she was longing for interactions with other people than the ones in her family. Ashe sort of felt that was more accurate than her wanting to change her occupation again.

“I don’t think so,” she answered her little brother.

Lucien shrugged.

They were starting to hate each other again. Not hate that would last, but it was still hate. The past two days they had been arguing about all and nothing. Lucien refused to take the paths Ashe wanted to, and then Ashe refused to help Lucien hunt for dinner.

It was only two days left of their trip, so it made sense that they were getting more and more annoyed by each other. Siblings were supposed to argue. Especially siblings that have spent prolonged time with the only company being each other.

They had walked through the last city on their adventure. They had spent a few hours talking and drinking at the local tavern. That’s when they started speaking with the locals and Ashe had learned how to make the stew the two of them were currently eating for dinner.

The weather was nice, and the sky was clear. They had decided to spend the night outside. A fire was dancing in front of them, and they found both familiarity and respect in it.

The next day, they would move to a better spot for winnowing back to the Night Court. Now they were on a place on the continent that laid east of the Autumn Court. So, they wished to travel a little north before they winnowed.

“Happy with the trip?” Lucien was obviously trying to lighten the atmosphere, but Ashe felt every word he spoke to make her more and more tired of having him around. She rolled her eyes mentally and decided to try to keep the mood light.

“Very happy,” she answered as little sarcastic as she could. “It definitely won’t be the last time I’m here.”

Lucien smiled at that. He opened his mouth and was about so say something when they heard a stick breaking. Both of their attentions shot towards the sound, and they found a soldier.

He looked exhausted and hurt, but at the same time he wore a disgusting smile. Behind him more and more soldiers arrived. There had to be at least a dozen.

Lucien and Ashe shared a quick glance before they jumped into action. They had been sitting quite a few meters apart on opposite sides of the fire, but they hurried to get to each other. Ashe hadn’t needed to winnow far distances in over two centuries. The furthest she had winnowed was the length of Velaris. To get to a certainly safe space, Lucien would have to winnow both of them.

However, they didn’t reach each other before the soldiers attacked with ash arrows. Ashe immediately started thinking about her mate’s pale face as an ash arrow was shot through his chest. The thought made the nausea worse.

The arrow hit her in the leg and Ashe hit the ground before the pain could even get to her. She gritted her teeth and pulled the arrow out with a scream. Even though she was dizzy from the pain, she managed to see Lucien in a similar situation to herself. However, he had been hit by two arrows. He had one in each shoulder, and he couldn’t move enough to remove either one of them.

Shit.

The soldiers were closing, but they didn’t pay much attention to Ashe. That was a huge mistake.

Ashe slowly sat up and tried to find some of the weak points of the soldiers. That’s when she noticed it was only three of them left. She was sure she had seen over a dozen before they got hit.

The bastards must have seen them get hit and thought the fight was over. But it had only just begun.

Ashe raised up on both feet and tried to hide her hiss. The wound on her left tight was quite a lot worse than she had hoped. The blood was pouring out and it was so painful she could cry.

The soldiers were now almost surrounding Lucien. He was struggling on the ground, and the ash seemed to get to him quickly.

Ashe looked around. All the weapons they had brought laid behind Lucien, so she wouldn’t be able to get to them without being noticed. The only weapon she could use was the ash arrow that she had pulled out of her own thigh.

She moved quietly, trying to remember all the tricks her mate had taught her. Her gaze flickered between the ground and the soldiers. She could not step on a branch, that would make too much sound. She also tried to make herself as little as possible, while still standing steady on her feet.

Ashe had been taught to protect herself, but she hadn’t needed to do so in a while. During the war, she had been in the healer’s tents helping there and before that, life had been calm. It was only during the battle of Velaris she had fought, but she had been so angry that day. So angry, she hadn’t even thought twice before she burned down the warrior threatening to attack.

It had been the first time she killed, and Ashe had hoped she never needed to do it again. She had buried herself in the total horror of knowing she had taken someone’s life, and Azriel hadn’t let go of her until she spoke about it and cried her eyes out in his arms. She had tried not to think about it since, but now all the memories came back in a rush.

Ashe shut the door to her feelings and tried to focus. If she jabbed the arrow into one of the soldier’s arms, all three of them would hopefully be unfocused long enough for her to at least get one arrow out of Lucien. Right?

She didn’t allow herself to think.

It was a fast planned, maybe stupid, plan, but it worked. Ashe used all her power as she forced the arrow into the male’s arm. He let out a scream that would hunt Ashe’s nightmares for a while.

The two other soldiers moved their gaze from Lucien and Ashe immediatly ran to Lucien and forcefully ripped the arrows out of his shoulders. He also screamed from the pain but quickly recovered.

Ashe didn’t have time to do much more before one of the soldiers ripped her away from her brother and threw her into a tree. She hit the tree headfirst and instantly became even more dizzy and nauseous.

“Breathe”, she told herself with a hiss. “In and out, come on, in and out.”

After a few breaths, her vision was back to normal, but it was too late.

“Ashe!” her brother yelled, but she noticed the soldier too late.

Ashe was picked up by a strong and painful grip and then thrown harshly into the tree once more. This time, she hit a branch with her shoulder, and she could feel the blood soak the clothes she was wearing. She thanked the mother that she had decided to wear pants and not a dress that day.

The only positive thing about the branch hitting her shoulder, was the fact that her head had even more time to recover. So, when the soldier picked her up one more time, she had time to think of a way to protect herself.

He held her by her shoulders. So, she simply sat her arms on fire.

The male snarled but let her go. She landed on her feet and was about to run when she was the one that was hit by fire. She wasn’t wearing leathers, except for her sports-bra. The fabric burned easily. Soon, the leather bra was the only thing she wore on her upper body. It was ages since she had been burned by someone that wasn’t herself. It brought her many emotions. Fear, sadness and pain, but also anger. So much anger.

Anger from the pain she had gone through countless times. Anger for all the other victims. Anger for the bastard that thought he could burn her and get away with it.

Ashe turned swiftly, but she didn’t even notice her own unleashing power before it was too late. He was too slow to react and started screaming loudly. One second, he stood there, the next, he was gone. Only some pieces of his uniform were left.

She hadn’t meant to kill him. Ashe only wanted to harm him enough to stop his attacks. She lost control, again. Feelings of horror spread through her body.

“Ashe,” Lucien’s voice was horse, but soft. “We need to winnow, Ashe. We should get off the continent. It’s not safe here.”

She heard his words but wasn’t able to react to them properly. It was first when his hand rested on her shoulder, she got out of her thoughts.

Lucien looked awful. His shoulders were still bleeding, his nose was broken, and he looked wobbly on his feet. Ashe suspected she looked similar. Her back hurt from the fire and the wounds on her thigh and shoulder was aching. She only wished to lay down and cry. She wanted to cry in her mate’s arms. She needed to hear his heartbeat. To know that he was safe. Ashe needed to know that even though she was hurt and scared, he was safe and his perfect self.

She couldn’t stop the tears as they rolled down her face. Even though her brother stood before her, she suddenly felt utterly alone without her mate being there to hold her.

“You need to winnow, Ashe,” Lucien said, his voice had grown even more horse and shaky.

“Why can’t you?” she asked. Her own voice was also shaky, but that was because of the tears.

“I’m too weak right now, I can’t take both of us,” he hissed in pain as he spoke. “We’ll winnow to Autumn.”

“What? We can’t do that!”

“We don’t have much choice. Neither one of us will get much further. We’ll go to Eris’ cabin. It’s Saturday, so he’s hopefully there. Then he can winnow us to the Night Court within minutes.”

Ashe did as he told her. Lucien counted to three and then, they winnowed. How she got all the way to the Autumn Court, she didn’t know. It must have been the adrenaline. However, as she landed in the cabin, she lost all control over her emotions.

Lucien, who had a third wound from the arrows that Ashe hadn’t seen before, passed out the second he landed in the cabin. Ashe was too focused on not hyperventilating to notice it.

“What the hell is going on?” Eris asked the second he came running into the living room. He held a sword but lowered it the second he saw his siblings. “Are you okay?”

“I killed him,” Ashe muttered and then completely broke down. She fell to her knees. It hurt as hell upon impact, because of the arrow wound, but she didn’t care. She had lost control, and she had killed.

Eris’ widened. He dropped the sword and ran towards Lucien. He crunched down and laid a hand on his chest. A sigh of relief left him.

“I killed him,” she cried. Her heart was breaking. The male didn’t breathe any longer. He could no longer think or laugh or smile. He was gone. Nothing was left. Nothing to bury. What if he had a mate waiting for him?

She threw up at that thought.

Eris was suddenly at her side, holding her hair.

What if someone had killed Azriel? What if someone had lost control and killed him? What if she lost control and killed him?

She couldn’t breathe. Her chest was too tight, and her heart was beating too loud. Eris spoke to her, but she couldn’t hear a word he said. Her entire body was shaking.

She was awful. She had lost control and killed. Killed a male that had a future. He had a life, and she had taken it from him.

Ashe didn’t feel her own powers burning into her arms. She didn’t feel the fire as it burned its way from her fingers to her elbows. She only noticed it when Eris rubbed her arms fast enough to stop the flame. Then, she felt the relief. But it didn’t last long before she was again lost in her thoughts.

Ashe didn’t feel how Eris let go of her. Hadn’t noticed him walking to the table, scribbling a note and sending it away. Ashe was still bawling and heaving as he picked up Lucien and sat back down beside her. She barely noticed that they winnowed.

She threw up once more, now in the summer sun of the Night Court. Ashe was shaking. The adrenaline was starting to disappear and pain from her wounds started bothering her along the breaking of her heart.

It was first when she smelled him, she understood she was safe. Finally safe.

Shadows swirled and bunched together around her wounds. Some on her shoulder, some on her thigh, some calmed the blisters that formed on her arms. Most of them, however, stayed in front of her heart.

“Come here, Flame,” Azriel whispered into her ear as he picked her up. Ashe allowed herself to break only when she was in his safe arms.

He had been looking at her at least three times. He was definitely planning something. Ashe hated that she didn’t know what.

The Night Court had been allying with Eris for a while, but just recently come up with the idea of using Ashe against him. Or as a reward for him. They didn’t know how he would take it.

Nesta and Eris was in the middle of a beautiful dance. Ashe could see multiple people that was in a trance because of it, but she knew that neither one of them used any magic.

It was almost funny seeing Cassian trying to control himself. Ashe would usually laugh at him, but she felt a little unsure. Both because of Eris, but also because she just wasn’t used to being in the Hewn City.

Azriel was a mess trying to take care of her, so he didn’t help a lot. He hated having her here. He hated even the sight of Eris. It seemed like he always would.

Azriel had been in meeting with Eris not long after Ashe and Lucien had returned from their adventure.

She and Lucien sat in the couch talking about their childhood. They often sat together trying to piece together things they were unsure about. Their evenings puzzling together their existence became longer and longer for each night. Especially now that Ashe and Azriel lived in their own house and not the Townhouse. They had been asked if they wanted the Townhouse as theirs, but it was simply too big.

Azriel came home. He didn’t make a sound, but Ashe still felt his presence. He walked through the door into the livingroom, saw Ashe on the couch and almost fell upon her. Ashe was quick to worry about her mate, but the movement of the shadows told her he was okay, just tired.

“I hate your brother,” he muttered into her chest.

“Me too, but just to be sure, which brother?” she asked him.

Lucien let out an insulted gasp.

“All of them.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” Lucien said next. He pretended to be insulted as he walked out with his head held high.

“Good night!” Ashe yelled after him. She would usually follow him to the door, but Azriel was still laying upon her, crushing her just a little.

Lucien muttered something from the door and then Ashe heard the door closing. She shifted her attention to her mate.

“What did he do this time?” she asked. She didn’t have to say who she was talking about, they both knew it was Eris.

“He’s too good at reading people. He knows exactly what to say to get on my nerves.”

That was a quality it seemed like all her siblings had. Reading people and using it for their own advantage.

“He knows about the two of us, or at least some of it,” Azriel said next. “And I hate it.”

They had discussed many times before whether Eris should know about their relationship or not. Ashe was for it, but not as much as Azriel was against it. So, they had decided to keep it a secret.

When Ashe and Lucien had winnowed to Eris and Azriel and Rhys had met them at the border, Azriel had felt so much of Ashe’s pain and spiralling thoughts, he couldn’t hold back even one second. In the days after, he had regretted it immensely. It led to the two of them having mental breakdowns at the same time, and that didn’t end very well.

It seemed that Azriel had hated Eris even more than before ever since.

“I don’t like this,” Azriel muttered and pulled Ashe from her thoughts.

Eris and Nesta had finished their dance and started a new one. However, Cassian didn’t let them finish it. While Cassian impressed with his new dance skills. Mor and Ashe had taught both Cass and Nesta how to dance. Ashe had mostly helped Nesta with the Autumn Court dances, but she had enjoyed watching Cassian struggling to be graceful.

It was so obvious that Eris was being a prick. Ashe could see it on his entire face. He was smug and proud as he stood and spoke with Rhys and Feyre. Ashe really wanted to be a part of the conversation.

However, it was quickly over. Eris looked back at Nesta and saw that she and Cassian was still dancing. That’s when his gaze landed on Ashe and stayed there.

She could feel Azriel’s anger grow bigger for each step Eris took towards the two of them. Eris ignored him completely.

He stopped two meters away from them. With one hand on his back and the other reached towards her, he spoke.

“May I have this dance?”

He spoke normal. His voice was proud and steady. But it was his eyes that gave away the desperation. They were begging. Begging her to take his hand and join him.

It was a time when dancing had been Ashe’s biggest dream. Now, it was something she enjoyed often. Azriel loved dancing with her. That’s what they would do every Starfall, sometimes also just the two of them at home. It was no longer something she was longing after. However, she decided to give him a chance.

She walked up to him and took his hand with a slight bend in her knees. Eris bowed at her and led the way to the dancefloor.

It was an easy dance. No fancy movements, just a normal waltz. It was originally from the Autumn Court, but it was Ashe’s favourite. Mostly because it was the only one she could so without stepping wrong. She had taught the dance to Azriel, but it was Eris that had taught her. Azriel didn’t know that of course, then he wouldn’t let himself enjoy it.

They moved together as they danced. Their movements were intertwined, but not at all as graceful as the ones he had with Nesta. However, both smiled a little. Not at each other, but both smiled from their memories together. The first time they danced, Ashe had been yelled at by Beron for handing out the wrong glasses. Ashe had just been a stand in and was supposed to have the night off. It hadn’t been her fault, but Beron didn’t care.

Eris had come to make sure she was okay after the ball was finished and then he taught her to dance. He spent almost an hour for her to understand the first move, so they continued next week too. And the one after that.

“You’ve gotten better,” Eris said. “You finally have a left and a right foot, not two left.”

“I’ve had the opportunity to practice more than before,” she spat back.

“I should have seen that coming,” he answered. He was about to say something else when Ashe spoke.

“I thought you didn’t like dancing as a way of getting to speak.”

He shut his mouth, and it stayed closed. They continued dancing a little stiffer than before.

That’s when Ashe felt the exhaustion. The total full body exhaustion of walking around being angry. Being annoyed. Forcing herself to be in a foul mood when she really wanted to smile and be happy while dancing.

She of course knew why she was angry at Eris. He had done many awful things that broke her trust completely. But so had Lucien. And now they were almost best friends, like they used to be when they were children.

She let out a sigh when she realized her entire mind and body told her to forgive him. To forgive Eris.

Azriel must have noticed it too, because even though he hated Eris, he poured just enough love through the bond for Ashe to get the bravery to speak.

“I taught Azriel this dance. We dance it often,” she told her brother, and he looked utterly shocked at her. She couldn’t help the laugh that left her. “Especially on Starfall.”

Eris nodded and gave her a small spin. He held her up when she started losing her balance and the rhythm.

“You’re married then?” he asked carefully. It was like he also felt the need to ask even though it felt so unnatural.

“We’re mates.”

He didn’t look too surprised at that.

“That’s how he knew you needed him that day.”

He was speaking about the day Beron almost killed her. One of the many times he had wanted to end her life.

She nodded even though he hadn’t asked.

“He treats you well?”

“Better than anyone else ever have,” she answered without hesitation and Eris flinched. They were deep into foreign territory, so Ashe decided to keep going. “Why didn’t you tell me Eris? You told me so much else. So many things that would have gotten me killed if they knew I knew. Why didn’t you tell me?”

His gaze burned into her, and she made her own eyes burn into his. They had the same eyes, the same amber eyes.

“Because I’m a coward. I thought I could keep you safe and unknowing. I realize that I was wrong, but I thought knowing what he was would break you.”

“It did break me. It still does at times.”

Eris had the horrible look of guilt in his eyes, but his movements did not linger. He still led beautifully. They stayed silent for a while. Ashe didn’t know what else to ask. Eris didn’t know how to answer without ruining the little time she had given him.

“He didn’t know it was you,” Eris started, and Ashe looked confused at him. “Beron didn’t know it was you that gave the information to the Night Court. He only wanted you dead. They continued looking for the traitor afterwards. Only mother and I know.”

It was too much. Ashe understood what Eris was doing. He couldn’t answer Ashe’s questions in a way that she would like, so he gave up some other information instead. Information that Ashe should know, but it still hurt.

“What?” was all she could mutter as an answer.

Everything became overwhelming. They hadn’t known.

“Beron wanted you dead so, Maria gave him all the details that could lead to the traitor being you. He then used it against you, even though he did not at all have enough proof.”

Ashe stepped on Eris’ foot and faltered for the first time in the dance. Eris kept her upright and continued pretending like nothing had happened.

Beron had wanted to kill her so badly, he wanted her framed for a crime he didn’t even know she committed. Azriel had told her before that she had been given a much harsher punishment than Samli would have when she took her punishment. It had been awful to hear, but he hadn’t tried to kill her.

Or maybe he had, but she had been stronger than he expected.

The movements got too much. Her chest tightened and she felt suddenly so out of breath. Eris had already been embarrassed by Cassian interrupting his dancing with Nesta, and how she would have to embarrass him by stopping in the middle of the dance. She couldn’t breathe.

“Mind if I take over?” Azriel’s voice sounded from behind her.

Eris stopped their movements and gave a small bow before he left without any questioning looks.

Azriel didn’t smile as he took her hands. He laid one of her hands on his chest and the other around his neck. Feelings his steady heartbeat relaxed Ashe enough for her to catch her breath. Her chest still felt strangled, but it got better for each deep breath she took.

Then, he started moving. His movements were smaller than the ones Eris had made. Ashe didn’t need to stretch herself more than she felt comfortable. They stayed together and moved together to finish the dance.

“I’m proud of you, Flame,” he said to her. The song slowed and the dance was coming to an end. Azriel stopped, leaned down and kissed her forehead and then held his hand on her lower back as they made their way back to the corner they had been standing in before. And they stayed there for the rest of the night.

When the party ended, Azriel and Ashe had gone straight home. Ashe explained everything Eris had said to her.

Azriel had always cursed at Beron. He had gone it long before he met Ashe. He had done it so much more after meeting her. But knowing that he had wanted to kill his own daughter for something he wasn’t even sure she had done, how horrible could someone be?

“I’m going to work on forgiving him,” Ashe said next and Azriel felt his brain explode. How could she forgive Beron? How could she even think the thought? He didn’t deserve to be forgiven, not for hurting her or anyone else. “Eris. I’m going to forgive Eris.”

Azriel relaxed at that, let out a chuckle at his own jumping to conclusion and kissed her forehead.

“I’m tired of being angry at him. I’m tired of being angry in general, but I think forgiving him will make it better for me. I’m doing this for me, not for him.”

It just made him want to hold her tighter.

They laid together on the couch. The fancy dress and tunic were changed into more cosy sweats. Ashe laid upon him and he held both his arms and wings around both of them.

Ashe had always had issues with her emotions. Azriel liked to explain it as she was feeling a little too much. Extreme feelings of anger and fear, but also happiness and safety often brought her to tears. It was overwhelming and too much for her.

Anger had always been the worse. Anger tended to unleash her powers. Earlier, also the other emotions had made her go up into flames, but she had worked on it and now it rarely happened. But she was still carrying too much anger.

Azriel knew she had gone through so much, and to know that she still had the bravery to face her feelings and trying to get better always impressed him. He loved it. Truly. He loved her. She was his inspiration every day.

“I’m going to start answering his letters, I think,” Ashe continued. Eris had sent her letters every year. On the first of December Rhysand would receive a letter to “Avron Venture”. It was obvious it was to Ashe Vanserra. Ashe always read through the letter. She kept them all, but she never answered them. Until now apparently. “I’ll start with just letting him slightly into my life again. Just like Lucien have done.”

His Flame was determined to make things better. And he was determined to stay by her side and keep her safe throughout the entire period.

Avron Venture,

December 1st

The year has been long and painful. Mother seems to be doing worse and worse. I’ve tried to get father away from her as often as possible, but I don’t think it’s helping.

The hounds have gotten another litter. The young ones are exploring around my cabin as I write. They are eating, licking and peeing on everything in sight, but they are also adorable. I’m looking forward to training new pups again.

Father is bothering me about marriage again. I’ve decided to not marry until he’s dead. I don’t want to bring more people into this horrible family.

I hope you are doing well, even after the horrid experience it seemed like you and our brother had on the continent. I hope you know I am here if something similar happens again and you need a safe place to go.

Rhysand has invited me to a ball on the days closer to Winter Solstice. I hope to see you there.

Take care of yourself,

Evan Venture

Evan Venture,

December 27th

I’m happy to hear you’re doing your best to take care of our mother. I was hoping you could tell her about my mate. I must admit, I don’t know her very well, but I hope my happy news can bring her some happiness as well.

My year has been great. Even though our trip to the continent ended badly, I have never felt as free as I did when I was there.

Our brother and I explored all we could find. He taught me a lot, but the locals told me the most. I hope to go back at a safer time to explore even more.

I’m so happy to hear the puppies are doing great. Please hug and kiss each and every one of them for me. And please do not be too harsh in the training.

It’s good to hear from you. I suggest a monthly exchange of letters instead of a yearly one. Hope that’s okay with you.

Looking forward to your reply,

Avron Scheme (I do not go by your surname, I want you to use my mate’s chosen surname)

Taglist: @tele86 @demon-master-zero @kbear8863 @atluky @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1 @adventure-awaits13

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Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

#acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x original character #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #beron vanserra

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kikiiswashere · 9 months ago

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Terms of an Agreement - Chapter 3

Summary: Silco and Vander are happy. For the most part. In order to keep their dream of Zaun moving forward, they each have jobs that makes the other uncomfortable. And discomfort for Silco comes out in anger. Luckily, Vander is there to remind him that he has nothing to worry about.

Pairing: Established Silco/Vander, pre-betrayal

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Summary: Silco reminds Vander to whom he belongs.

Word Count: 3.3k

Previous Chapter

CW: Somnaphilia, Dom/Sub vibes (bad etiquette), Possessive behavior, Mild blood play, Hand jobs, Anal finger, Anal sex

Notes: A request from my bestie @sand-sea-and-fable! I posted this story in the new year, but never finished it. I wanted to re-work it (and finish it) for pride month. So, here is the first chapter of what will be a three-chapter novella. Happy Pride!

The rest of the evening was quiet. Vander and Silco, dressed in only their undershorts, cuddled on the couch under a worn blanket. Silco recounted his mission and Vander listened, one hand gently running up and down his partner’s upper arm. He winced only a little when Silco told him about his daring escape from Enforcers.

They talked into the wee hours of the morning about ideas of how best to optimize the treasure that Silco had brought home. The suggestions ranged from pragmatic and realistic to outlandish and goofily delusional. Nothing was actually decided, both too tired and gooey from their shower activities.

Eventually, Silco’s head lolled heavily onto Vander’s thick shoulder, eyelids fluttering as sleep threatened to overtake him. The Hound chuckled, adjusted his arms around his partner, and stood up.

“I’m not a child,” Silco mumbled against Vander’s neck.

“Ya wanna walk t’bed?”

There was a pause. Silco tightened his hold around Vander, and whispered, “No.”

“Thought so.”

Once in their bedroom, Vander gently deposited Silco onto the mattress. The springs within squeaked lightly at his body weight, and then loudly groaned when Vander rounded the bed and took up his spot. He drew up the covers around them as Silco wiggled his backside against him, a silent instruction. His heart swelled, and he was quick to comply: nestling his front against Silco’s back and wrapping strong arms around him.

Silco sighed as if in relief and went limp in Vander’s hold.

“I’m glad yer back, Sil,” he murmured into the crown of sable hair.

Silco hummed, a sleepy smile curling his lips.

“I love you, Vander.”

“Love you, too, pet.”

Silco dreamed of Vander.

It had only ever been Vander for him. No one else had ever come close.

He dreamed of Vander’s big hands holding him; of the plushness of his lips; of the satisfying scratch of his stubble against Silco’s skin; the warmth and breadth of his muscled body . . .

Silco’s eyes cracked open. The room was still dark and the air was thick with quiet. The muffled ruckus of the tavern above had gone silent, suggesting that Benzo had closed up for the night and gone home.

Slowly, he extricated himself from Vander’s arms. The Hound grunted sleepily and promptly rolled over to his other side, the movement seemingly threatening to collapse the whole bed. Snickering, Silco slipped out from the covers. He gently palmed at his half-hard dick as he shuffled to the bathroom.

He did not turn on the lights. He knew the space well enough, and his eyes were quick to adjust to the dark; something he attributed to his years of laboring in mine shafts. Bracing a hand against the wall above the toilet, Silco hinged slightly at his hips and relaxed his bladder.

As he relieved himself, his eyes slid over to the tub. A satisfied smile curling his lips as his mind replayed the scenes from earlier in the night.

Vander’s lips on his. Vander’s mouth around his dick. His fingers up his ass. Vander’s thick monster of a cock taking him from behind . . .

Silco bit back a groan as the last drops of urine struggled to release as he grew rigid. His head sagged and breaths came in sharp pulls as arousal pooled hot and low behind his navel. He ran a loose hand up and down his length, sussing out the situation. His body lurched in response, head snapping up as his back bowed; sweet, sweet licks of pleasure shooting up his spine. A gasp burst from him, surprised and overwhelmed by how keyed up he was.

He could handle himself right here, right now. Or . . .

Or.

A smile, sharp with sin, hooked Silco’s mouth. Or he could return the favor. Remind Vander to whom he belonged. Just as Vander had showed him how much he adored Silco earlier.

He stood, tucking his erection against his belly with the waistband of his undershorts, and pulled the toilet chain. Silently, he padded back to their bedroom.

Vander’s back was still to him when he returned, his massive flank rising and falling in a slow, steady beat. Silco sneaked back up onto the bed, careful to keep the mattress from dipping or moaning too much. He slid up to Vander and peered over his shoulder. His partner’s face was slack with peaceful sleep. He was beautiful. Silco eyed the soft lines beginning to splinter at the corners of his eyes and those that bracketed his mouth. Signs of Vander’s kind and jovial disposition etching their way slowly into his face.

It suited him, Silco thought. He knew he was developing his own deep crease between his eyebrows. More a mark of his ire than friendliness.

Silco’s fingers gently raked through Vander’s hair. The Hound twitched slightly, a grumble at the back of his throat. Silco smirked, and he leaned forward, barely pressing his lips over Vander’s temple and hairline. The rest of his body slid snuggly against his partner’s backside. He bit back a groan when his groin pressed against Vander’s ample ass. His lips ghosted along the shell of Vander’s ear, mouth parting so that his teeth grazed it. Silco gently rocked his hips at the same time, and another sleepy sound came from the other man. This one more of a heady whine. It sent a zip of pleasure and power up his spine.

One of Silco’s hands threaded underneath Vander’s large bicep and began petting sweetly at his chest and stomach. Fingers spanned the width of one, large pectoral; his thumb purposefully dragging across his nipple before skating down the ripples of his muscular abdomen. His fingers traced the scraggly line of hair that started under Vander’s navel and disappeared under his shorts. While his hands and fingers explored, teased, he nestled the blade of his nose behind Vander’s ear and breathed him in.

Beer yeast, sweat, and smoke.

The scent of home.

His home.

His.

Silco’s hips pressed against Vander’s backside again, his bound erection wedging between the split of his cheeks. A low sigh escaped his mouth, ruffling Vander’s hair like a soft breeze. A sleepy grumble crackled in the Hound’s throat, his massive body shifting.

Silco grinned and dared to slip his fingers underneath the waistband of the flimsy shorts. He pet along his hip crease, feeling Vander’s muscles twitch and flex excitedly. Another sleep-heavy groan rumbled from Vander, and Silco’s heart and navel lifted when his hips pressed forward. Hands becoming greedy with desire, slipped lower and cradled Vander’s heavy, sensitive testicles.

Finally, the Hound jolted and choked on a needy moan. Silco massaged the pliable sac, testes sliding and lifting in his hand.

“Sil,” Vander sighed, equal parts sleepy and intrigued.

Silco lowered his mouth to Vander’s neck and bit.

Beneath him, the Hound spasmed, back bowing and hips pressing into his hold. Silco’s hand traveled up and held onto the root of Vander’s half-hard member. His teeth dug deeper as he swept up his partner’s length.

Vander started again, gasping. The surprised sound slid into a relieved sigh as Silco pumped him again and again.

“Didn’ get enough before?”

Silco licked the deep bite mark on his neck. He pumped again, pressing his thumb pad firmly against Vander’s slit. The large man made a surprisingly delicate and trembling sound, and Silco ground his hips against his backside again.

“I was just thinking,” Silco hummed, voice like silk, “I enjoyed your reminder so much that I’d give you one as well.”

His hand slid back down to Vander’s root and pumped back up in a vicious tight, twisting motion. A small, cracked cry bleated from him. Silco did it again, Vander gasping and moving his hips with the motion.

Vander’s breathing became shallow and labored, his mind equal parts confused, aroused, and focused on the hand pleasuring him. He barely noticed the sensation of his shorts being guided down to his knees. At the end of the next stroke, Silco’s hand tightened around his glans and gave a few short, vigorous pumps. Vander cried out, cursing.

“You are the one usually in charge during your . . . dalliances, aren’t you?”

An affirmative-tinged howl came from the Hound.

“How exhausting,” Silco cooed. He bit Vander’s thick trapezius muscle, the skin breaking slightly. Vander spasmed. A ‘please’ hidden between his labored breathing. Silco’s free hand caressed up one of Vander’s muscular glutes. “To be in charge of a business, a revolution, and then in the bedroom. Poor puppy.”

An intoxicated groan escaped Vander’s mouth at the pet name, at the tight fist pumping him.

Then there was a finger grazing between his glutes. It pressed lightly against the tight ring of his anus.

“Oh, Gods – “

“Shhh shhh,” Silco hushed into his ear. “It’s okay. I’m in charge now, yes?”

The tip of Silco’s finger traced the rim of Vander before gently pressing in. The Hound drew in a great breath and nodded his head.

“You’re mine, yes?”

Another knuckle. Another nod. Silco’s hand began to slow its rhythm around Vander’s cock, earning a small whine.

“I am the only one who gets you like this. I hold the Hound of the Underground’s leash.”

Vander whimpered and nodded.

“Speak, puppy.”

Unceremoniously, Silco drove the rest of his finger in, and Vander yelped.

“Yes!”

“You like when I take you like this? When I remind you to whom you belong?”

His finger undulated, drew in and out. Vander couldn’t seem to decide if he should press back into the digit or into the hand still working him.

“Yes!” He gulped a breath and hastily added, “’M yours, Sil.”

Silco’s cock pulsed at his words. He could feel that the waistband of his shorts was becoming damp with how much he was leaking.

His.

He added a second finger and Vander cried out. He was hopelessly flummoxed and insanely turned on. One moment he’d been sleeping; now Silco was fingering him and whispering filthy things into the dark of their bedroom.

And Silco was right. Vander did relish these moments when his partner would take charge, would dominate him.

Everywhere else, people deferred to Vander. His size, fighting prowess, and leadership skills caused everyone to readily drop their responsibilities. Assumed that he could and would handle any situation, bedroom or no. And they weren’t wrong. Vander was capable and adaptable.

Only Silco had ever dared challenge him. A true peer in the sheets and in the streets. His stature did little to dissuade Silco from manhandling him, as if the smaller man was furiously desperate to wield and show his own power. And, to Vander, it was the hottest thing ever. He melted under Silco’s attentions and demands, relieved to be the one who was being taken care of.

Suddenly, both of Silco’s hands were gone. Before Vander could question or protest, a sharp command came.

“Take your shorts off. Roll over.”

Vander hopped-to and quickly stripped his undershorts the rest of the way down. His hands were shaking in excitement, heart pounding in his chest like a drum. Behind him, he heard the rattle of Silco’s nightstand drawer opening and closing. His teeth chattered in anticipation. He rolled onto his back, rigid dick slapping against his belly with the movement.

Silco loomed back in through the dark, coming to kneel between Vander’s spread legs. He’d removed his undershorts as well – long, curved cock bobbing proudly forward. Vander’s mouth watered at the sight. In his right hand, Silco held a small, glass bottle of oil.

“Eyes on me.”

Vander’s gaze dutifully snapped up to Silco. His eyes were impossibly bright in the dark. Hungry and dangerous. Vander’s skin prickled; precum dripped onto his belly.

“Tilt your hips up, puppy.”

Vander obeyed, presenting himself. His silver eyes wide and pleading.

Silco held his gaze as he doused his left hand in oil, and then tugged at himself a few times. The bottle was tossed in to the dark, and those beautiful, elegant, slick fingers descended upon Vander’s puckering hole. The same two fingers reentered him, and he moaned in relief. His head fell back, only to snap back up when Silco pinched his ass with his other hand.

“Eyes on me.”

Vander swallowed and nodded, muttering an apology.

While some people felt more powerful binding their partners, covering their faces, or taking them from behind, it wasn’t so for Silco. He experienced that swell of power when Vander went submissive merely under his words. When he could watch the erotic agony he was providing twist and contort that beautiful face.

A third finger joined, and Vander whimpered. His fingers began a treacherous pattern against Vander’s prostate: slide, press, circle, slide, repeat. Vander’s hips bucked and his cock twitched. Heat flushed his face, its muscles pulling and pinching as if short-circuiting under pleasure.

Silco withdrew his fingers, and Vander felt horrifically empty.

“P-please – “

“Hush now, Love. Legs up.”

Silco had already been lifting Vander’s sweat-sheened limbs, but at his command, Vander hurriedly hauled them up onto his partner’s sinewy shoulders.

When the head of Silco’s cock pushed against him, the Hound bit back an excited cry. Like an asp, Silco’s right hand shot out and gripped his jaw.

“Eyes on me and no holding back. I want to see and hear everything. Do we understand each other?”

Vander nodded between the pinch of Silco’s fingers, and the hand fell away. Again, his attention went to splitting the man beneath him. Vander openly moaned as more and more of Silco’s length was pulled into his body.

Silco kept his breath even and face schooled, but inside he was on fire. Flames of pleasure licked their way up his spine, his balls lifted in utter delight. He didn’t know what was better: the feeling of Vander’s body around him or the sight of the Hound a begging, wet mess beneath him.

Only him.

Hands wrapping around Vander’s thighs, Silco drew back, until only the tip of him was inside, and slammed back home. Vander cried out; his massive body jostling with the force. Silco repeated the motion again. And again.

It was a sight. The mountainous barkeep being dominated by a man less than half his size. Vander’s toes clenched and flexed, his hands twisted in the bed sheets, his abdomen flexed, his chest heaved. The pressure on his prostate was incredible. Overwhelming. Rattling him loose from the inside out. Silco’s cock a beautifully punishing instrument. Above him, his partner grunted into each thrust, teeth bared; little flicks of spittle landing on Vander’s chest.

He was teetering on the edge of release, not quite able to tumble. Tears pricked his eyes. Both in the effort of keeping them on Silco, and in over-stimulated frustration.

“S-Si-Sil. I – I need – “

In a flash, Silco’s hand was clamped around Vander’s impossibly rigid cock. The Hound cried out, a sound that began relieved, and then fell into shock when his fist tightened. Not enough to hurt, but enough that the pressure of Vander’s impending orgasm sky-rocketed. He wailed.

“I got you,” Silco grit through feral thrusts and the lewd sounds of skin slapping. “No one else knows what you need, do they? I’m going. To. Make. You. Feel. So. Good.”

Each word was punctuated by a sharp thrust that left Vander panting. Squirming. Frantic.

Silco was right. No one else could make him feel like this: like a lover meant to be wrung completely dry.

His teeth began to chatter, a chant of ‘yes’ behind them. His thick thighs quaked around Silco’s head.

“Si – I’m gonna – “

Silco’s fist went down to his thumb and forefinger, creating a tight loop around the base of Vander’s erection.

“Cum, puppy.”

Vander couldn’t stop the way his head snapped back as he came. A howl tore from his mouth as intense, full-body pleasure wracked him and wrung him. All the while, Silco kept his demanding pace, milking his partner’s p-spot and the pleasure it offered completely dry.

The moment Silco felt Vander’s body begin to slacken, the hold he had on his shaft loosened and he pumped him once, twice –

Vander’s body erupted in a second, powerful orgasm. His cock pulsed mightily, a streak of ejaculate firing up like a missile. More thick jets landed on his belly and chest. The wail that had been on his tongue earlier morphed in a crackling shriek so profound that the edges of it lifted into silence.

Silco’s own pace slowed as he watched enrapt and enthralled by how completely the man beneath him fell apart. As Vander’s second orgasm ebbed and he began to melt, Silco pulled out of him and vigorously worked himself into his own climax. He buckled at his waist, ropes of cum bursting from him and landing on Vander. Their releases mixed together, swirling into small, gleaming pools. Vander didn’t seem to notice, or care. His lungs swung violently and his legs fell from Silco’s shoulders in boneless puddles.

Silco’s own orgasm, while good, did not ruin him so entirely. Which was the point. He smirked wickedly down at the spent man, utterly proud and vindicated.

He swooped down, licked up some of their combined semen, and then slid up Vander’s massive body. He pressed his lips against Vander’s slack mouth. The Hound slowly, sloppily kissed him back, gratefully accepting the tart cocktail from Silco’s tongue.

“You’re alright?” Silco asked, pulling back. A hand pet down Vander’s chiseled jaw.

He attempted words, and they failed him. He nodded dumbly, serenely. Silco smirked again, kissed him, and carefully rolled over to his nightstand. He turned back, a rag in hand and cleaned Vander off with a gentleness that belied his previous dominant behavior. As he did so, Vander’s eyes followed his movements. They watched the serious and beloved expression on Silco’s face as he wiped down his stomach, dick, and legs; as he took the time to check and clean his rectum. The thought, intimacy, and protectiveness of it squeezed Vander’s heart.

Silco tossed the used rag in the direction of their hamper, and he nestled back into his spot on the bed. He lifted an arm and Vander, at once, rested his head on his shoulder. Silco’s strong, slender arm wrapped around his broad, built muscles protectively.

Vander nuzzled against Silco’s chest; Silco rested his cheek against Vander’s crown.

Comfortable, deep silence filled the room.

“Sil?”

“Hmm?”

“’M yours.”

Silco’s arms wound tighter.

“You are mine.”

Notes: Aaaaaaand scene 🤌Thank you so much for reading this little, smut-filled diddy! Please reblog and let me know what you think by leaving a comment! Comments are us authors' life blood ❤️

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