#brother's bond bourbon

[sexyvixen7]

(Source: brothersbondbourbon on Instagram)

😂😂

[lovelystarsandmoons]

Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki trying Brother's Bond Bourbon -August 10th 2024

[taylorvaughnsaidso]

[soulmates-for-real-tranquility]

Boys drunk!

Boys drinking

[thedesertdove]

[thebellekeys]

the tvd and the originals cast lore is a lil too interesting. so you’re telling me that phoebe tonkin and claire holt, two of the three leads on hit aussie teen mermaid show H2O, had reunited on tvd and the originals to play leads hayley and rebekah respectively? and klaus married bonnie’s mom?!

[mundotwilight]

[queenofstelena]

Paul Wesley for (brother's bond bourbon)

Tagging:...

@misschanadlerbong @hydesjackiespuddinpop

[fabartists]

Paul wesley e Ian somerhalder x brother's bond bourbon ✨️

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Finally // beautiful stranger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k (including lyrics)

Warnings: angst, mostly fluff

Summary: You’ve got your heart broken once and you refuse to do it again. When a tall, green-eyed stranger walks into your life, you have to make sure he’s going to stay before letting him in completely.

Square Filled: finally // beautiful stranger by halsey (2020) for @spnsongchallengebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Your eyes, so crisp, so green Sour apple baby, but you taste so sweet You got hips like Jagger and two left feet And I wonder if you'd like to meet

The only twenty-four-hour diner is across town from where you live but you find yourself in it anyway. The place isn’t busy considering it’s nearing one in the morning but you don’t want to go home. If you do, you’ll think about him and you really don’t want to cry yourself to sleep. At last here, you can compose yourself not to cry in front of people.

That, and you’re always hungry after getting your heart broken.

“Let me top your coffee off,” the waitress says and fills your cup again.

“I want another round, please. Bourbon. Neat.”

“Sure.”

When the waitress leaves, you finally notice the two men on the other side of the diner. One has his back to you but the other one is facing toward you and by God, this man is gorgeous. Even from where you’re sitting, you can see his crisp green eyes. Like candy apples. The sight makes you sad. Your ex was just as beautiful, and here you are eating your sorrows away. You look down and take a bite of your pie with a sniffle. The waitress comes back with your Bourbon, and you take a big gulp of it.

The green-eyed man says something to his friend before walking over to you.

“Are you okay?”

You down the rest of the Bourbon even though it burns. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“You’re crying.”

“Yeah, because of pig-headed men. I hate men,” you scoff and take another bite of your pie.

He chuckles not at you but at your comment. “Can I sit?”

“Sure. Want some of my pie? Alcohol fills me up and I won’t be able to eat this all.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He takes your fork and scoops some pie onto it before eating it. “My name is Dean.”

“I hope you treat your lady better than my man did, Dean.”

“I don’t have a lady but if I did, I would.” You nod and take the fork back for another bite. “Want me to beat him up?”

Maybe it’s your drunken brain or maybe it was genuinely funny, but you laugh at the thought of your ex getting beat by some stranger.

“You might not be able to take him on. He’s pretty big.”

“You clearly have no idea who I am, sweetheart. I’ll get my brother to help.” You giggle and bite your lower lip to stop your grin from spreading too wide. “What a shame.”

“What?”

“I know I shouldn’t be hitting on you but that guy doesn’t know what he gave up.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had a woman with the most gorgeous smile. If you were mine, I’d never want to stop seeing it.”

You smile again, this time, a shy one. It makes you sad because all beautiful men are like this.

Your voice is velvet through a telephone You can come to mine, but both my roommates are home Think I know a bar where they would leave us alone And I wonder if you'd take it slow

You and Dean kept in touch after meeting him half-drunk and crying over another man, and you’re kind of nervous to let him in more. You have a daughter who you love dearly, and bringing in strangers isn’t something you want to do to her. You don’t want her getting to know someone, bond with him, only for him to leave. Her father didn't want her so how can you expect anyone else to stay?

You and Dean hang when you can, when you have someone else to watch her, but finding a sitter is hard enough as it is. You don’t make a lot of money because you depended on your ex-boyfriend for everything. You didn’t have to work when he paid for everything. You’re trying your best even if it doesn’t feel like it.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard your voice,” Dean says over the phone.

His voice is so velvety smooth that it makes you get butterflies from words alone.

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy. It’s been hard to get away.”

“I get it. Look, I have some free time now. I’d like to see you.”

You think of Amelia and how you can’t leave her here alone. She’s only six, she needs someone to watch her.

“I’d love to, Dean, but I have a daughter here that I can’t leave alone. I can’t afford a sitter right now otherwise I’d say yes.”

“Right. Of course, I understand.”

He sounds disappointed. You bite your lower lip in thought. Your sister lives a few houses down from you. If she says yes, you can leave and hang with Dean at a bar or something. You don’t want him coming here. As much as you like him, you’re not ready for Amelia to meet him.

“Let me ask my sister if she can watch her. I’ll text you if I can or not.”

“If you can, I’ll be at Joe’s. I hope to see you there.”

You immediately dial your sister because it’s a lot harder for her to say no to you over the phone rather than text.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Okay, don’t say no right away. Just listen to me.”

“You want me to watch Amelia?”

“Just for a little bit. Maybe a couple of hours. I met this guy. His name is Dean.” You hear her sigh which makes you pause. You know this sigh. It’s a disappointed sigh. “Jess, it’s not what you think.”

“You just broke up with Trevor how long ago? You already met someone?”

“It’s not like I’m going to marry him. I just… I can’t explain it. He’s nice…”

“Trevor was nice.”

“Jess, please? Just a couple of hours. I’ll pay you if you want.”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” she sighs. “Fine, I’ll watch her only for two hours.”

“You got it. Thank you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing. I’d hate to see you hurt over yet another guy.”

Trust me, me too. After she comes over, Amelia is happy to see her aunt. Joe’s is only ten minutes from your place, and you text Dean you’ll be right there. He’s in the back playing with darts when you arrive, and you head over with a smile.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“So, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah, her name is Amelia. She’s my pride and joy. My ex was her father, and you know that didn’t end too well. I’d have you come over but I don’t want her meeting someone still so new, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it. Trust me.”

“I like you, Dean. I just need to take it slow.”

“Whatever you need to feel safe.”

Just like that, you fall for him a bit more.

I grab your hand and then we run to the car Singin' in the street and playin' air guitar Stuck between my teeth just like a candy bar And I wonder if it goes too far to say

After two months of dating, you decide it’s best if he gets to meet Amelia. You’re not sure if it’s going to crash and burn or work out but you have to put faith in this decision. Dean has been nothing but good to you, so you’re taking the chance he’ll love your daughter. Amelia knows you’ve been seeing someone. She’s not stupid. She’s a very smart six-year-old--too smart for her own good.

“Dean is almost here.”

“Do you like him, Mommy?”

“I do,” you smile.

Amelia shrugs and goes back to coloring. Dean shows up in his gorgeous Impala that you love riding in. He even let you drive it once which was thrilling. You leave Amelia coloring in the living room to greet Dean at the door. He keeps the kiss short and sweet knowing your daughter is here. You turn to let him in when you see your daughter standing right behind you with her hands on her hips.

“Hi, you must be Amelia. My name is--”

“Are you gonna break my Mommy’s heart like Daddy did?”

You’re taken aback by the question. Dean doesn’t seem scared by her sass, in fact, he encourages it.

“No, I won’t.”

“You better not, mister. I know how to fight.” Dean can’t help but laugh. “You better be a good one.”

“Okay, why don’t you go play in your room.” Amelia leaves without another word, and you close the front door with an apologetic face. “I’m sorry about her. It’s been rough lately.”

“She’s a cute kid. I know we agreed to stay in tonight, but what do you say I take you and Amelia out? Maybe to a zoo? I bet she’d love seeing the animals.”

You look out the window and see his shiny black car. You love his car but it’s not suitable for Amelia.

“You know I love your car, but there are no seatbelts. I am not putting my baby in a car with no seatbelts.”

“Yeah, okay,” he nods.

You two settle on the couch and put a movie on that you both love. Within the first act, he pulls you into him and wraps his arm around you. You should be happy, and you’re trying really hard to be, but Trevor behaved the exact same way. He was so nice and loving in the beginning but he let his true colors show later on. Had you not run when you did, you would have had bruises on your body from him.

Still, through all that fear, you can’t seem to stay away from Dean.

I've never recognized a purer face You stopped me in my tracks and put me right in my place Used to think that lovin' meant a painful chase But you're right here now and I think you'll stay

It’s been a week since Dean promised to take you and Amelia to the zoo. He promised to have a car that is safe enough for your daughter, so you’re not sure if that means upgrading the Impala or getting another car altogether. Dean loves his car so you don’t think he’d give up his precious car for you.

“Amelia, are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“Are you excited?”

“I can’t wait to see the lions, Mama! And the giraffes!”

“If you’re lucky, you might get a kiss from a giraffe.”

Amelia giggles as you help put her shoes on.

“I hope you keep this one. I like him.”

“I like him, too.” Then again, I liked the other one. A car you don’t recognize pulls up to your house, and you take two steps outside to see who it could be. Dean exits and smiles when he sees your confused face. He’s not driving his beloved Impala. He’s driving a new version of a Dodge Ram. “Whose car is that?”

“Mine. I bought it yesterday.”

“Why?”

“It has seatbelts.” Your heart melts a bit. “Now I can take Amelia out without you worrying about her safety. I hear this is a really good car.”

“You’d do that for her?”

“I’d do that for you.”

You want to move toward him and kiss him but you’re stuck. You can’t move. You’re shocked because Trevor would have never done this for you or Amelia. He loved driving sports cars that were never safe for children, and he refused to get a car that could support her.

Dean might be a keeper.

Oh, we're dancin' in my livin' room And up come my fists And I say, I'm only playing, but The truth is this I've never seen a mouth that I would kill to kiss And I'm terrified, but the truth is this I said Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms and I know That beautiful strangers only come along to do me wrong And I hope Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms And I think it's finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe For me to fall

Amelia is sleeping but you and Dean wanted to have date night. Your sister isn’t in town to watch her and you didn’t want to take her to a bar at such a late hour. Dean offered to bring the date to you, which is why you two are slow dancing in your darkened living room. The only source of light is the candles you lit prior to him coming.

Soft rock flows through your speakers at a low tone so as not to wake Amelia, but Dean doesn’t mind. Dean runs his hands down your waist and grips your hips gently, and you lean up to press your lips against his. You’ve never felt this way about anyone, not even Trevor. He says all the right things, does all the right things, and knows exactly how to make your heart flutter.

You’re still terrified but it’s a good terrified. You’re scared of what this could mean, not that he could break your heart.

You pull away from him and stare into his beautiful green eyes.

“Don’t make me regret falling for you,” you whisper.

He leans his forehead on yours.

“I won’t.”

x

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[seriesxwriting]

Christmas setup

w Damon Salvatore

Warnings- kissing, alcohol.

Series- The vampire diaries

Summary- all your friends see that you and Damon have been flirting nonstop. If you two won’t make a move, it’s up to them to come up with a plan.

- sorry I know every year I’m late with my Christmas story! This years no different😭.

Every Christmas, me and my friends rent out a big house some place peaceful. So we can relax, drink until our hearts content and be away from all the drama of mystic falls. This had been a tradition for years now, this Christmas would be our sixth one. Me, Elena, Stefan, Bonnie, Enzo, Caroline and jeremy. Oh and Damon. They say you leave the best till last. Damon Salvatore. A man I’d been friends with for a long while, and a man I now felt myself falling for.

“Y/n stop day dreaming” Caroline snapped nudging me. “Are you playing the game?” Bonnie asked me tilting her head. Everyone was sat on the floor with whatever board game they chosen. Everyone apart from Damon who was off collecting wood or something. “Um- actually I’m okay, I still need to wrap a few things before tomorrow so I’m going to do that” I nodded jumping up with my hot chocolate and leaving the room.

We’d been here for three days and the games were starting to get a little tedious. “Perfect I’m glad she’s gone” Caroline whispered grabbing her bag. “What? That’s a little harsh did something happen?” Jeremy jerked his head back in confusion. “No- no nothing like that- it’s just me Bonnie and Elena have come up with a plan and we need everyone in on it” she smiled smashing a piece of paper onto the floor.

“Plan gyadt?” Enzo read out raising an eyebrow “yeah it stands for get y/n and Damon together” Elena read out looking around the room at the faces. “Oh so everyone’s caught onto the flirting that’s been going on for months?” Stefan giggled looking at the plan again. Everyone nodded around the game making people laugh. “Great, so this is the plan” Caroline clicked her knuckled. “We get them in the mood” Elena winked.

Step one:

Knock knock

“Who is it?” I called out, “stefan” he called in. I’d already wrapped his presents so I allowed him inside. “Hey how’s it going?” He smiled coming and sitting down with his coffee on the bed I was staying in. “Not bad, only got Enzos and Damon’s to wrap now” I smiled up at him. “Oh really? What did you get Damon” Stefan peered into the bag suspiciously. “Well he’s always going on about this bourbon called brothers bond but he couldn’t find it anywhere- I’ve found it” I smiled taking the old bottle out of the bag.

“Wow y/n- this is a gorgeous present- he’s going to love it” Stefan smiled looking at the bottle. “Then some new glasses to go with it” I shrugged getting up to fetch them and show Stefan. He nodded at them taking them in with detail. “He’s going to be ecstatic”. “Well I’m glad you approve” “of course I do!” Stefan frantically waved his arm out spilling all his drink over my jumper. My eyes widened realising. “Oh- oh my gosh I’m so sorry y/n! Quick go into the bathroom to wash it off” Stefan put the cup on the side and rushed be out of the door.

Outside- 

“Damon! Are you out here?” Elena yelled pulling her coat around herself shivering. A woosh of wind appeared in front of her and Damon smiled. “You look freezing” he laughed with a bunch of wood in his hands. “Mm I don’t know how you’re out here with just a shirt on- I mean I do but…” she trailed off making him laugh again. “Well, why you out in the cold?” He questioned walking back to the house with the wood in his hands. “Well I came to check on you- and bring you this” Elena held out a mug of tea.

“Mm never knew you had a nice bone” he dropped the wood and put his hand out for the drink. Elena stepped towards him and tripped spilling the tea all down his shirt and trousers. “Elena! Are you okay?” He burst out trying to help her up. “I’m so sorry Damon! I- I don’t know what came over me” she shook her head trying to stand up. “You should try and get it off before it stains” she took him by the wrist and led him towards the house.

“Really it’s fine elena stop apologising” Damon told her as he entered the bathroom. I turned around seeing him close the door before noticing i was in here. His eyes trailed down my top and mine his. We both laughed at each other. “I feel like I still win in this situation” Damon said coming over to the sink and me. “Why’s that? We’re in the same boat are we not?”. “Mmm yes we are but I don’t stink of coffee” he laughed trying to get the tea off his grey top.

“Actually you have a point there” I nodded before putting my middle finger up to him Damon’s jaw dropped as if he was offended. I laughed flicking the water at him before running off. “Hey!” Damon gasped running after me giggling. He caught me and with vamp speed held me against the wall. I looked up at his face, my smile was gone and I was just panting staring up at him. Into his blue eyes.

“You got me” I whispered under my breath. “Now what are you doing to do?”. I watched his eyes flick down to my lips for a second. “Forgive and forget” he winked drawing away. My heart sank, I was beginning to think he just wasn’t interested because every time we got close he’d pull away. “Oh- looks like the tea didn’t come out” Elena appeared from behind the corner looking at Damon. She side looked my top too. “Maybe you should just both change- how clumsy” she tutted turning on her heels.

She went to find Stefan in the kitchen. “Did you move the t-shirt to the top of the suitcase?” She whispered. “Mmh, and you got Damon’s grey joggers on top?”. Elena nodded and they both grinned at each other childishly. “I hope they work out Stefan” she put a hand on his chest sighing. “It’s a good plan babe” he kissed the top of her head. “Don’t start please, I’ve seen it all before don’t want to see it again” Damon smirked walking into the kitchen.

I came out my room hearing the chatter and went to follow, I couldn’t be asked to root around for a new outfit so I just picked the top on top of everything. It was a tight blue top that was quite boobie. I’d warn it only once. Damon turned around as I walked in behind him. My eyes rolled down him in his great joggers and I had to try very hard to not allow my chin to fall down. Damon stared at me not saying a word. “Y/n you look nice” Elena smiled at me before evil eyeing Damon.

“That’s your favourite colour isn’t it Damon- favourite shade and everything” Stefan piped up almost making me go red. “Yes it is” Damon nodded still staring. “Brings out your eyes in that” he smiled leaning against one of the chairs. “Thanks hun” I winked taking an apple and exiting the room. “Um- I’m going to go and get that wood I dropped” Damon nodded before heading out.

“So once they are changed? What does that mean?” Enzo wondered raising an eyebrow. “They will want to be all over each other now they’re attracted to each other” Caroline sighed with a smile. “So what’s step two?” Jeremy questioned. Everyone nodded being just as curious as him. “Step two is getting them to admit their feelings so they are fresh in their minds” Elena smiled pointing to the paper.

Step two-

Outside-

“Hey Damon want help carrying that?” Bonnie asked raising an eyebrow coming outside. “Nah don’t worry” he threw it all onto the floor outside the door. “Can I ask you something?” She questioned sitting on the porch swing. “Yeah..” he frowned suspiciously. “It’s about y/n” “y/n? Is she okay?” He went to get up but Bonnie put her hand out. “She’s fine- it’s more about the reaction you had” she smiled turning her head to the side.

“Is something going on?” “No” Damon shook his head seriously. “She’s my best friend Damon- and so are you, I can see when the dynamic changed- and it has”. Damon shut one eye “has she said something?” “Do you want her to say something?” Bonnie giggled nudging Damon. “She’s- gorgeous- but nothing could ever happen” Damon shook his head laying back on the swing. “Why? You’re perfect for each other”.

Damon shook his head again “you’re wrong Bonnie, I like her I do but with everything going on- with all the danger we face everyday- I can’t afford to be in love” he smiled sadly. Bonnie’s eyes widened before her mouth hung open. “Do you really believe that?”, Damon nodded with a slight smile. She could tell it was hurting him. “You deserve to have love Damon- you do- I can’t believe that’s why you won’t make a move” she sat back staring into space.

“If I lost her Bonnie” Damon shook his head closing his eyes. “There is always that risk Damon- in every relationship, in every friendship”. He hummed nodding and shrugging slightly. “Yeah I guess- this is pointless though, I don’t even know if she likes me back” “Damon…” Bonnie started but he stood up “I’m going to take this wood inside to the fire” he hinted that the conversation was over.

In the hallway-

“Oh- y/n I was looking for you” Jeremy smiled catching my arm. “Oh you were?” I asked not thinking anything of it. “Yeah- it’s kinda- random” Jeremy giggled turning around to face me. “I only ask because- when I’ve liked any girl you’d always help me get a game plan together and set us up together” “Awh jer” I smiled sitting on one leg looking up at him curiously. “Is there another girl?” “No” he laughed shaking his head. “I would have told you if there was- no this is about you” he nodded lowering his voice.

“Me? As in-.” “No- no I don’t like you- not like that” he shook his head. I burst out laughing at the thought and Jeremy followed. “Good” I nodded crossing my arms. “It’s about you and Damon” he whispered smirking. “O-oh” “you know what I’m talking about then? The flirting?” Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows. “You mean the one sided flirting” I sighed rubbing my arm. “What?” He shook his head not agreeing with me. “You’re right jer I thought something was going on- but every time I think something’s finally going to happen it never does”.

“I think that means you need to make the first move y/n, because from what I’ve seen it’s not one sided” he rubbed my shoulder to remove my pout. “He’s probably just got some reservations but he’s definitely got feelings for you” he shrugged looking confident. “Hm- I don’t know jer, if he doesn’t want to make a move then maybe for the best nothing should happen” I nodded leaving the conversation sadly.

Jeremy stood there thinking for a second before running to find Bonnie. “She likes him” “he liked her!” Bonnie hissed back at him, their grins widened. “But she thinks he doesn’t like her” “well Damon’s scared of falling in love- thinks it’s too risky” Bonnie chewed her lip. “It’s time for step three, the final step” Bonnie nodded seriously.

“And when they have explained there feeling it will play over in their mind again and again” Caroline explained. “That’s when step three comes in” Bonnie chuckled rubbing her hands together. “Step three? The last step?” Enzo asked being intrigued. “Yes, by this time it will be pretty late, everyone is going to go to sleep early” “on Christmas Eve?” Stefan scoffed shaking his head. Elena hit him gently on his chest. “We’re not actually going to be asleep but give the impression we are”.

“So that they think they are alone?” Jeremy checked after his moment of realisation. “Precisely” Caroline snapped her fingers looking proud of herself. “It will turn Christmas and they will be all sentimental after just pouring out their feelings- this will work”.

Step three-

“Wow that fire looks amazing Damon” I smiled coming into the living room. Elena and Stefan were laying down together giggling about something. And Caroline was watching whatever was on tv. “Thanks- what are they?” He nodded to the rest of the presents in my hands. “The rest of the present I hadn’t wrapped, this one’s yours” I winked putting it under the tree. “You always give good gifts y/n I have high expectations” he patted the side of the sofa now my hands were empty.

“Not too high I hope” I sighed softly as I sat down. “Stefan I’m getting tired- shall we go to bed?” Elena said quite loudly as if she wanted everyone to hear her. “Of course my darling” he kissed her hand and the both got up hand in hand. “I might follow actually- goodnight” Caroline smiled at me and Damon who were sat left confused. “It’s eleven o clock on Christmas Eve?” He frowned shaking his head.

“Yeah that was beyond weird” I pulled a disturbed face. “You’re not tired are you?” He turned to me with a smile. “Mmh Mmh no way” I shook my head. “Let’s get some drinks then” Damon nodded to the kitchen. “bourbon?” He raised an eyebrow. “Sure Damon” I laughed following him in. “If only we had some brothers bond bourbon then we’d really be having a party” Damon sighed. “What’s your obsession with that?” “Its old- it’s the first bourbon I ever tried- I was hooked but, I’ve never been able to find it again- it must have been very smally distributed” he explained to me.

“I’m sure one day you’ll be able to try it again Damon” I promoted leaning over the counter as he poured out our drinks. “Hopefully” he shrugged smiling at me. He didn’t look away though. Once he was caught on he kept staring. “Damon- you’re going to spill it” I nodded to the drink, he’d poured way too much in. “Oh” he shook his head coming back to reality and pulling the bottle away. “It’s alright nothing I can’t handle” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh I know” I turned my head to the side as he passed me my drink. “You know- I’m glad your here y/n- if I had to choose anyone I wanted to stay awake with it would have been you” he told me coming over to my side. “Well, I have the same opinion Damon” I stood up straight and he edged forward tilting his head down. “I had some good advice today, I didn’t think it was but after I’d had a thought about it…” “oh yeah? What was that advice?” I questioned swallowing nervously.

“There’s always risk in any relationship, even a friendship- us being friends that’s risky” he started, his eye contact never stopped. My stomach was twisting in every way possible. “So us being more than friends can’t be anymore risky that it already is” he breathed. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew what I wanted to do. Damon must have had the same idea because he leant towards my lips. Out of nowhere the clocked dinged indicating it was officially Christmas.

Mine and Damon’s heads swung towards the clock jumping out of our skins as we were so focused on the moment. I turned back smiling at him. “Merry Christmas handsome” I whispered putting my hand on his neck and guiding him towards my face. Damon smiled before meeting my lips and FINALLY. Finally I was kissing the man I’d dreamed of kissing for months. It was better than I’d imagined, he’d obviously had years of experience but he was a great kisser.

He pulled me closer to him by my hips kissing me passionately back, as if he didn’t want the moment to end. As if he’d wanted to do it for months. When we finally pulled away he kept me close and shined a bright grin looking into my eyes. “Merry Christmas gorgeous”. I giggled childishly into his chest and Damon pulled me into a bear hug. We heard whispering coming from the corridor before a bombarding entrance of the whole group whooping and clapping.

“Good plan girls” Stefan chuckled coming in with Elena on his hip. “Plan?” I frowned still in Damon’s arms. “Mmh, the whole of today was a set up to get you two to admit you liked each other and make a move” Caroline giggled behind her hair. My mouth dropped and I looked up to Damon. “I- can’t even be mad” he rolled his eyes laughing. “God” I put my face in my hand. “I suppose I should be thanking you” I sighed looking back up. “You’re welcome! We’re all so happy for you” Bonnie winked at us curled up in each others arms.

“Now, shall we get a few bottles open it’s Christmas!” Elena threw her arms out but Damon just laughed shaking his head. “No no no, You all wanted to go to bed, I think me and y/n want to do the same now” he smirked, my heart jumped out of my chest but I wasn’t complaining. I looked up at him with wide excitement in my eyes. “Ew!” Stefan laughed covering his ears. “Come on princess grab your stuff you know what rooms mine” Damon winked as he began walking out the room backwards.

I was in for one hell of a Christmas.

Damon mastlist-

Tvd masterlist-

All series masterlist-

Masterlist of masterlists-

[nackrosor]

~Midnight Healing~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

[I highly recommend to put this song on repeat as background music. It will help set the mood.]

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, p*rn with feelings & plot, unexperienced reader, first kiss, first time, oral s*x (fem receiving), p in v, soft Ghost, slow dance, mutual pining, slight angst/comfort, Soap being the best mate, the team being supporting in their own way lmao, cap. price approved 👌🏻 summary: You're at the pub, enjoying a night out with your team. The soothing lulling music, the booze, Johnny's taunts and your own repressed feelings embolden you to invite Simon to join you in a slow dance. The dance leads to long overdue confessions which in turn lead to your first time together. word count: 12.5k. (longest one yet)

A special and huge thank you to my dear @magnoliabutters who has helped me SO MUCH. You've given me so many suggestions that inspired me to write the best possible version of this story. I probably would have given up halfway through if it wasn't for your support. I love you and appreciate you a lot. ♥️

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the counter with a thumb circling the cold rim of your half-full glass of bourbon. The soothing blues music playing in the background adds to your sense of calm, with notes vibrating through your limbs, echoing in your ribcage, and clearing your thoughts. You let yourself be lulled by the soft melancholy tune, quietly humming along and rocking your head in rhythm. 

Given your job as a task force officer, you rarely get a breather and a chance to enjoy a night out. It is a luxury for you and that is what makes it so special, a time to truly look forward to. Especially when you can share it with your brothers in arms, your family, not bonded by blood but by a profound feeling born through shared hardships and nurtured by trust, respect and understanding. One would imagine you'd prefer to spend your free nights alone or with different people, perhaps even a one-night lover, rather than with your coworkers, the very same guys you spend your entire days with, through sweat and tears, anger and frustration, and occasionally a moment of respite. This is exactly the reason why you wouldn’t dare unwind with anyone else; they are everything for you, the sole people you trust and you would gladly give your life for without hesitation. Why would you need anybody else? 

Seeing them loosen up for one night, just enough to treat themselves to a pint or a glass of whiskey is such the delight. You wouldn’t even need to chug a drink of your own to feel the tension leave your body, finally allowing yourself to relax. 

This time is no exception. Same place, same company, same feeling of being exactly where you need to be, of needing literally nothing else in the world.

"Enjoying yourself?" 

Soap's voice sounds clear in your ear and interrupts your blues-induced trance. A lazy smile greets you as you turn to look up at him. He settles down on the barstool next to you.

"Yeah… I love this music. It feels like a lullaby but instead of making me want to sleep, it makes me want to move, you know? "

"Sounds like you want to hit the dance floor! Care to give us a show?" 

"Wouldn't you like that!" 

You smirk at him, bumping your shoulder against his.

"Who wouldn’t?” he returns the nudge, playfully winking at you, “But I know someone who would particularly enjoy it, more than anybody else."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. Every time you come to the pub, you can't avoid one or two, occasionally three, drunken brash males hitting on you or simply gluing their eyes on you from afar, never stopping for the entire time you're here. You'd think that being literally surrounded by four menacing - some more than others - muscular men would prevent anyone from ever looking your way twice, especially weak-minded misogynists who don't believe a woman could take care of herself… That clearly isn't the case. Go figure! These people have no sense of shame or… self-preservation. 

"What ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude is staring at me this time?" 

A chuckle escapes him. He shakes his head as he swirls the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. 

“No ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude , just a possibly ugly dude.”

"Oh?" a wry smile takes form on your lips, "well, I could get behind that."

"He's been throwing some not-so-sneaky glances your way ever since we arrived."

"Yeah?”, you ask, taking a quick glance around the room. “Coordinates, Sergeant. Don’t leave me in the dark."

Soap's eyes glint mischievously as he subtly nods to your left, then raises his glass to his lips to take another sip and mask his grin. You follow the trajectory of his nod, gaze skimming the whole length of the counter, overlooking the serene faces of Gaz, Laswell, the captain, until it locks on a familiar pair of big dark eyes. The smirk on your lips immediately falters and your stomach flips. 

Simon is holding your gaze, seemingly unfazed, arms folded across his chest and muscles flexing under his black windbreaker. No matter how accustomed you are to seeing him in his casual attire, your heart always loses a beat whenever your eyes land on him. The way his skull balaclava hugs his face and the way the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt is all the way up, hiding his head, make his mesmerising eyes circled with black make-up even more striking and thus much more lethal to your poor weak heart. You’re so attracted to him, so infatuated… you’ve never felt this inexorable pull toward anyone before. It’s like a new form of gravity, so strong that you can’t even avert your gaze; it takes too much effort, like going against the laws of nature. 

Soap’s giggle draws you back from the trance. Your eyes dart around aimlessly for a moment before you whip around to glare at your friend.

“You’re a bastard.”

He shrugs innocently, that stupid grin of his still tugging at his lips.

"You saw it for yourself, he was staring."

"Yeah, 'cause he probably heard you or read your lips or… something."

"Right,” he says with a scoff, elongating the word. “Didn’t know superman was part of the 141…"

His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes. Grabbing your glass, you bring it to your lips and savour the sensation of the cool, sweet but strong liquid flowing down your throat. As you knock the empty glass back onto the counter, you catch a glimpse of Ghost. Fortunately, this time he appears to be engaged in discussion with Price, providing you with the green light that allows your wistful gaze to linger on him, unnoticed. 

"Well, you must admit that…”, you mutter almost to yourself, eyes reverently roaming his figure, “...if anyone had superpowers in our team, it would definitely be him." 

"Heh. You certainly look at him as if he already has them."

Johnny interrupts your reveries again and you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Simon and trying to clear your mind in the process. "Stop it. He's just, he's-" 

"He's single, for all I know." 

The sergeant shrugs again with an innocent smile as you give him the stink-eye.

"You’re a menace ."

You poke him hard in the ribs, causing him to wince and almost spill his drink. You both can’t help but laugh.

“I swear if you told him or anyone anything… I'll strangle you in your sleep.”

“Mmm, so passionate, y/n. He’s gonna love that.”

You roll your eyes again, yet can't help but smile.

Soap is your best mate; you're closer to him than the rest of the squad, which is saying a lot given how close the team is. You may or may not have let your feelings for Simon slip during a private conversation one night at the HQ while you were a little tipsy, and he's been a little shit about it since then, unwilling to let you live it down. You know it's all in good fun, there's no malice in his words, but his taunts do nothing to help you keep your feelings under control. 

“You should tell him, by the way.”

“We’ve already talked about this, Johnny…”

“I just don’t understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. You scared of getting rejected?”

You shrug, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you as you fidget with it absentmindedly. He struck a nerve. Taking the first step without being absolutely certain that your feelings are reciprocated and thus making a colossal blunder scares the shit out of you. Actually, the mere thought of taking a shot in the dark makes your stomach churn with dread. 

“Y/n, he would never turn you down. Never .”

“You don’t know that.”

Soap scoffs incredulously. “C’mon! You’ve seen the way he looks at you! There’s nothing PG-13 about it.”

He pauses for a moment waiting for your retort but when you don't give him any, he draws conspiratorially close to your ear. “Although, I guess you don’t get to hear what he says about you when it’s just us boys…”

You perk up, turning toward him with a curious and clearly hopeful look on your face. Does he know something you don’t? Or is he messing with you? You can never tell with Soap.

“W-what does he say?”

Soap grins victoriously, undoubtedly pleased with himself for catching you failing, yet again, to hide your stupid little crush. 

"Gave my word that I would keep my mouth shut..."

“Ugh!", you push him away with a hard smack on his arm, "you’re insufferable.”

“Go talk to him and find out on your own. In the unlikely case that what you fear the most happens, any of us smart boys would gladly take his place in your heart, love ."

You shake your head with a scoff, eyes drifting aimlessly to the other side of the room. Turns out, Johnny was trying to get under your skin, as per usual, however you can’t help but mull his words over.

Perhaps he's got a point, perhaps it is time to let it all out in the open and face the consequences , whatever they might be. Johnny said that Simon has talked about you with the guys. It might be nothing, but what if he really has let his own feelings slip during a conversation, just like when it happened to you with Soap? Or perhaps, he had a real heart to heart talk with his mates… 

You have your doubts, but then again why would Johnny mention that he spoke of you? Why would he try so hard to reassure you that Simon would never reject you? Why would he stress out the fact that he often gets caught staring at you? Could your friend be doing this solely for a laugh? No, Johnny is not that kind of person. He cares about you and he clearly understands how much you care about Simon. He would not give you a friendly push merely to watch you fall face first to the ground. There must be some truth behind his jokes and teasing… but are you ready to risk it all to find out? Being rejected isn't the only fear that prevents you from acting on your feelings... 

"Whatever.” You sigh at last, propping yourself up by pushing your palms against the edge of the counter. “I'm here to unwind, not get caught up in my head as usual. So… now, I’m going to dance. And, just to be clear, I'm not doing it for you or Simon or anybody other than myself."

The pointed look you give him makes Soap raise his hands in defeat, however it doesn't wipe that little smirk off his face. The glass grazes his curled up lips as he looks at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah… You'll thank me later.”

His words get lost in the rising bustle of the pub; the cacophony of voices and the clatter of glasses gets louder just as the music fills your ears the more you get away from the bar. The soothing tune comes out of two huge amps set at either side of an empty stage, and floods over you, the sole person standing in front of it. You feel a bit self-conscious at first, sensing everyone's eyes on you but you try your best to ignore them. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you focus solely on the music, allowing yourself to be transported by the slow lulling rhythm. 

Soon, you're swaying your hips in time, your feet picking up their own pattern. You don't care about how you're moving, how it may look; all you care about is letting go, setting yourself free, feeling the music pass through you, and being completely in the moment. You dance worry-free, entirely surrendering control of your body to the enthralling and sinuous voice of the electric guitar. Few things are more freeing than dancing like nobody’s watching…

The song comes to an end almost too quickly and so does the enchantment that has seized you. When you open your eyes, chancing a look around you, you immediately meet Simon’s stare. He's still sitting at the bar but now he's turned toward you, back to the polished wood of the counter, one elbow resting on its edge. Clearly he has been watching you the whole time, enjoying the show , as Soap said. You feel a thrill run through you. Perhaps it's the alcohol kicking in, perhaps those feelings pushed deep inside you are finally emerging to the surface. Or is it just the adrenaline of the dancing still holding control over your body? 

Regardless of the answer, you find yourself walking toward him; the initial notes of a new song matching your sultry and unhurried steps. He firmly holds your gaze, but you notice the shifting in his seat as you approach him with renewed confidence.

You stop when you’re right in front of him, a coy smile plays on your lips while you hold out your hand.

"Care to join me?" 

His eyes flicker to your extended palm then wander over your face, as if he's looking for a cue that would tell him whether you're joking or being serious.

"You're outta your mind, princess ."

You raise your eyebrow at the word 'princess'. He knows you don’t like to be called like that but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps using that stupid term, especially when he wants to reprimand you, putting you in your place or just to tease you and get under your skin. But there is something in the way he said it just now, an endearing nuance in his tone that combined with his thick accent makes you melt like chocolate.

"Why? You seemed really interested only a minute ago."

You tease him with a challenging look on your face while you nonchalantly tug down the zip of your biker jacket. After the dance you're feeling a bit flushed, you need to let your skin breathe. No other reason for uncovering your cleavage, right? Definitely not to draw his attention to the deep neckline of your dress. Of course not, why would you do that? 

"I was only-" 

You interrupt him, arms folding across your chest, drawing his eyes even more to the curves of your body. " Enjoying the show , right."

"No.” He counters quickly, his voice loud and clear even over the music. Doesn’t he sound a little nervous? Or are you simply imagining it? 

“I was just… glad to see this carefree side of you. It's a good look on you."

You stare into each other’s eyes, your heart thumping hard in your chest. You didn’t expect to hear him say that.

"Well…”, you bite your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, arms falling back to your sides, “...dancing is very freeing. You should try it."

"I don't think it would work for me."

"Why don't we find out?" 

Shivering just a little, you take another step forward. His head slightly cranes up so that he can keep his piercing gaze on yours. You move your hand on his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it before giving a little pull in your direction.

"C'mon…", you give him a teasing smile as you step back, head nodding back to the space behind you, “...let’s go.”

Despite your pulling, Simon doesn’t budge a single inch, but you see him hesitate. You keep tugging at his wrist, stepping backwards, even attempting to pout, until he silently relents and stands up, letting you drag him toward the stage at last. You didn't expect him to give up. You thought you'd have to put much more effort into it, or that you'd have to be the one giving up in the end. You're genuinely surprised by the turn of events but you won't let that dent your spirit now. You've just started playing with fire and you can't help but feel the thrill of it, the excitement lighting up inside of you. 

You stop when you reach the spot you previously made your own during your solo dance and turn around to face him. He stands there, tall and motionless, the hood of his sweatshirt still on; he looks so out of place on the dance floor, the sight makes you chuckle.

"Don't worry Si, nobody would dare judge you."

"I don't care about that."

"No?"

With a smile on your face, a gaze fixed on him, you start to sway your hips in sync again. His eyes immediately flicker down to take in your movements. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he looks like a freaking pole, standing so still in front of you, not moving even one muscle. His whole focus is on you and he seems to particularly enjoy being able to watch you from the best seat in the house.

“You could move your shoulders a little bit, you know? Or even just nod your head in time with the music.”

It’s so evident that he doesn’t know what to do with his body, where to even begin. You almost feel guilty of having dragged him there, of putting him on the spot.

“Here, follow my steps.”

You pick up a simple left-to-right footwork, following the slow but steady rhythm of the drums and encourage Ghost to mirror your motions with a nod and a gentle smile. He studies you, eyes observing your body attentively, picking up every little movement you make. 

He appears quite stiff as he attempts to follow along; his bulky body doesn't seem keen to make him look as graceful on the dancefloor as it does on the battlefield. But he's trying at least, and quickly getting the hang of it.

“That’s it! You’re not half bad, Si!” 

A soft chuckle escapes you as you bite your bottom lip. Seeing him dance - or try to - makes you oddly giddy, euphoric even. It's just such a rare and bizarre thing to see that you can't help but smile wide and enjoy the moment to the fullest.

Raising your arms in the air, you swing your hips and bend your knees as you lower your body to the ground, only to raise up again, twisting your curves like a snake. The thrill of his probing stare piercing you causes you to shudder; his eyes are unwavering, admiring your every move with utmost devotion. Having his undivided attention makes you feel alive, it makes you feel special and bold. 

You take a step closer and reach out to grab both of his hands in yours, your movements mellowing to fit his laid-back rocking. His calloused hands are surprisingly soft and warm as they wrap perfectly around yours, like matching pieces of a puzzle; his touch feels comforting, stable, safe. As you look up at him, eyes locking once again, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. A small smile takes form on your lips to mask the turmoil rising within you.

“This feels… nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

Your heart soars upon hearing his answer, smile widening.

“I didn't know you could dance."

"I can't dance”, you correct him with a light chuckle, “I simply enjoy moving my body to the music."

"Never seen you do that before."

"Well, most of you guys don't even like listening to music, so I only get to do it when I'm on my own… which is a rare occurrence since apparently you babies can’t leave me alone for more than one minute."

You squeeze his hands playfully, a cheeky grin playing on your face. You notice his eyes crinkle lightly in response.

"You can use my office, if you want. There's enough room to… move around."

You let out a hearty laugh, head shaking softly. Your eyes lower to the floor for a moment, monitoring the way both your feet move perfectly in sync and at the same time picturing the silly image in your mind.

"You gonna sit at your desk, grumbling over your paperwork while, with music blasting in my ears, I dance like nobody’s watching right in front of you?" 

"Why not,” he says with a shrug.

His voice doesn’t betray his collected demeanour, but you know he’s smiling underneath that mask.

"Well, for one…”, you raise one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look, “I think it would get pretty distracting, rather quickly." You bring your joined hands to the level of your eyes and his chest, slowly interlacing your fingers with his. The muscles of his arms seem to tense for a moment.

"...Fair enough."

"Secondly…”, you trail off, eyes flickering up to meet his serious stare, voice losing a bit of its jovial nuance, “...people might start talking."

"Who cares."

His remark is curt and blunt, and it takes you a bit by surprise. He actually sounds as though he wouldn't care less if your coworkers were to start spreading rumours about you two possibly being... intimate. Or perhaps you're merely grasping at straws. After all, you're talking about dancing. Nothing more, right? 

"You’re telling me that you wouldn’t care what the others may think or say?" your tone is clearly hesitant this time, vulnerable even, eyes frantically searching his, "...watching us dance like this? Being this close?"

He keeps silent for a long moment, gaze boring into yours. His hands then pull on your wrists, tugging you closer to him. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, while your hands fly onto his chest for support as a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.

“How could I give a crap about them or what they think… when I have you here in my arms?”

His straightforward statement catches you off-guard, causing you to stumble upon your feet. It feels like the tables have turned. Your flirtatiousness made him take the bait and now you’re the one who doesn’t know how to act. Your boldness instantly vanishes, it’s as if you never had it in you in the first place. A tardy nervous chuckle slips out of you as you struggle to regain your synced rocking.

“You must’ve had a drink too many, huh Si?”

“Never been more lucid in my life.”

You stare deeply into his eyes, a wild-eyed look on your face, as he firmly holds your gaze. Tension soaks the air around you, you can sense it getting thicker and thicker. Suddenly, there's not a single soul in the pub but you two. Your eyes locked, bodies swaying gently together, lightly brushing against one another. Your heart thumps forcefully against your chest. 

[ 2:26 min .]

… 

I just want to get your head back, baby

Give you all the love I got, for sure

So, baby, if you've got that feeling

You know I wanna give you that midnight healing

Oh, I just want to make love to you all night long

… 

Perhaps it's merely your perception, but the music appears to get louder. The song��s lyrics are now distinctly clear; they echo in your head, tickling your mind like a subtle hint intended specifically for you.

Returning your attention to Simon, you detect a strange glint in his eyes. Did he receive the hint as well? The way his grasp on your waist tightens, palms roving over your sides and drawing you even closer to him, seems to confirm your supposition.

You both seem to lean forward, attracted like magnets, until your faces are merely inches away. The music deafens, slowly making its way into the background, providing the perfect mood for this special moment. Neither of you says a word, instead you let your eyes speak for themselves. Everything around you seems to blur into a negligible mist. Simon has you hypnotised, just as the music did, with the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. As one of his hands slides up to your neck, fingers grazing the soft hollow area just above your pulse point, a sharp shiver travels up your spine. 

The room spins around you. All of a sudden, your heart pounds hard against your chest and in your ears. You sway on your feet with fingers tugging on his jacket to keep your balance. His hands move quickly to your back, to support your body as you shift your weight on him for a moment before catching yourself. You feel hot, dizzy, and out of breath. 

"Y/n?" 

"J-just give me a moment, will you?" You say rather harshly, unable to keep the rising panic and tension out of your voice.

His concerned gaze is the last thing you see before you abruptly pull away and dash back towards the counter, mind buzzing, chest tightening. You notice Soap’s smile drop into a puzzling look as he watches you rush over but before he can ask you anything, you hear Gaz's hesitant voice coming from behind you. 

"What's going on?" 

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder, instantly meeting his perplexed look. Your actions seem to have drawn the attention of Price and Laswell, too; you find both of their gazes set on you. 

You struggle to take deep breaths, your eyes darting aimlessly from one friendly face to another while your hands clutch around the table edges, fingertips turning white. It takes all your efforts to not raise your gaze toward the dance floor and rest it on the man still standing exactly where you have just left him. 

"Nothing! It's all going great!" 

Your voice comes out higher pitched than normal but you try to mask it with the most convincing smile you can muster. 

You turn toward Johnny before you can witness the other's reactions or give them time to question your words. Your friend pierces you with a questioning look that doesn't leave room for lies. 

"I-I think I'm gonna pass out."

He immediately reaches out to place a comforting hand on your arm as he slides his freshly refilled glass towards you.

"You ok? What happened?" 

Your hand shakes as you grab the drink. You rub it to your forehead, cheeks, and neck before moving it to your lips. The cool sensation of the glass against your feverish skin seems to ease your panic, even if only a little. You focus completely on the cold liquid scorching down your throat as you take a long sip. 

You gasp, pulling from the rim of the glass. "Nothing. It's just-" you take another deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut,"...it felt all-too real, all-too quickly, I guess. I'm not entirely sure. I panicked."

"Y/n," he coos softly, gently squeezing your arm, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to-" 

"But that's the point! I want it! We were so close, I mean… you saw it! If it wasn't for the mask, I’m pretty sure he would’ve leaned in for a kiss. I-I felt my heart was about to burst!” The words fall out of your mouth in a nervous rambling. “I wanted to close the distance so bad… that I fucking ran away." A deprecating chuckle escapes you, eyes rolling in disbelief. "I'm so fucking stupid!" 

Johnny squeezes your shoulder again, offering you a genuine smile.

"You are not stupid, y/n... Well, maybe just a little bit." He grins in response to your not-so-convincing glare. "Could a little more privacy help you feel better? You know there are rooms upstairs, you could always go there if you want to..."

You watch as his hand disappears inside his jacket and reappears a moment later, holding a small silver key between his fingers. He holds it out to you and you take it from him mindlessly.

Soap laughs as he detects the mute query in your stunned expression.

"I took it earlier thinking I might get lucky and use it for myself, but it looks like I’m not the lucky one tonight…"

Your gaze darts from your friend's face to the key, then back to him. Your heart starts racing again as the true meaning that small metallic object holds hits you like an unforeseen gunshot to the chest. You let out a loud groan, your hands flying to your face to hide your grimace.

"What is it now?"

"Johnny...", his name falls out of your lips in a sing-songy cry, barely audible above the music and chatter. Lips quivering both in embarrassment and fear for the confession you’re about to make. With a whisper, you share, "I've never been with anyone before... I've never even kissed anyone." You chance a look at your friend through your fingers. "What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Simon? Hell, who am I kidding? I-I already have!"

The astonished expression on Soap's face only aggravates your growing anxiety.

"Creeping Jesus! Y/n… I thought you… uhm, it’s okay-," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and shutting without emitting a single sound, at least not one that you can hear. His gaze abruptly darts to the side, focusing on something far over your shoulder before moving back to rest on you with a barely concealed alarm. "Ok, take a deep breath, he's coming over."

You only have time to curse under your breath and pull your hands away from your face before you feel a presence behind you that makes every hair on your body stand on end.

When you hear your name being called, you turn warily to face the man standing by your side, stomach twisting as you meet his inquisitive stare. You believe you can also see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, too. 

"Simon, I'm… I'm-"

"She needed some fuel, L.T.!" Soap rushes to your aid, grinning up at Ghost and smacking him on the arm - a little too hard. "She's all good now… right, y/n?" 

He gives you a quizzical look, as if he's asking whether you're ready to handle the situation on your own or if you need more time; at least, that's what you believe he’s trying to convey.

You respond with a feeble nod before your gaze shifts to Simon. You offer him your glass. "A sip?"

He stares at you intently, seemingly studying your face, his expression now unreadable. 

"No."

"A-alright, more for me..." you fake a smile and then guzzle the drink all in one go. You slam the empty glass on the counter as you suck air through your teeth, grimacing at the piercing sensation of the scorching liquor spreading inside your system. Your gaze is drawn to Soap's, and you give him a somewhat confident smile, which he returns with a little wink.

Your hand then moves on its own accord, finding Ghost's large palm and interlacing your fingers with his; the contact sends a chill up your spine. When you look up at him, a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. You're not sure what you're doing or what's going to happen, but you try not to second-guess yourself too much and risk screwing up for the second time in a row.

Taking a step back, away from the counter, you beckon him to follow you.

"Come with me…"

He does not resist your pull. He does not hesitate for even one second. He trails behind you as you lead him up the stairs and to the second floor. 

Neither of you dare utter a single word as you walk through the corridor and come to a door that matches the number on the key Soap gave you. You don't dare glance at him as you walk in, taking in the dim tavern-like atmosphere of the tiny bedroom. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the king size bed in the centre, which takes up most of the space. Your mouth goes dry. You wonder what Simon might be thinking, if the same thoughts that course through your mind are pestering him as well. 

The sound of the door being closed startles you and makes you whirl around. Your gaze immediately captures his, and you gulp under his piercing stare.

With slow heavy steps that mismatch your thundering heartbeat, he walks over to you, stopping only when he’s towering right over you, standing tall in all his imposing height. You keep your gaze levelled in front of you, unable to meet his eyes, however his fingers curl under your chin and nudge your head up, forcing you to face him. 

" Princess… " he murmurs in a low breathy tone, his voice tinged with something akin to irritation, “why are you playing little games with me?”

Your stomach flips again. Of course he’d assume you’ve been messing with him, leading him on; it’s only fair considering the odd behaviour you’ve had all night. And probably not just tonight. 

“I’m not, trust me…”

He pauses for a brief moment, his keen eyes studying your face, possibly looking for proof of your sincerity.

"You brought me here. Why ?" 

"I-I don't know…"

"You don't know?" 

You mentally reprimand yourself for your dumb answer and shake your head in an attempt to dissipate the haze that has settled over your mind.

"I mean, I know why, but-" you try to swallow but your throat is dry. The intensity of his dark eyes boring into yours causes you to stutter, "f-fuck Si, you make me so nervous I can't even think straight!"

Your voice comes out louder than intended and soaked with frustration. Your hand moves on his wrist, tugging at it to pry yourself free from his grasp, but his hold on you does not relent.

"You were dancing for all the pub to see until a minute ago, and I make you nervous?" 

"Yes! Of course! I don't give a damn about those strangers! Why should I? Besides that's not the point! You make me nervous because you are... you are-" 

You shake your head again as you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze averted from his. You know you can't really back down now. You have to tell him the truth but it's damn hard to find the right words to express exactly how you feel. And more than that, to finally find the courage to say them.

You feel like your heart is on the verge of bursting out of your chest.

"You’re someone I really care about, Simon."

His fingers squeeze your chin, urging you to look up, and when you do you notice that his eyes have softened. 

“That made you panic?”

You give him a lopsided smile, but a short-lived one, for your anxieties come tumbling back, slithering into your mind and compelling you to address them, once and for all.

"T-There's something else..."

You want to tell him that you've never been with a man before, that you've never even had your first kiss yet, and that the thought of him, the only man you’ve ever loved, desired , possibly being your first, makes you incredibly nervous and self-conscious. You really want to tell him everything and free yourself of this burden but your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gape up at him, feeling your stomach churn.

Simon waits patiently for you to speak up, his fingers still holding your chin. The soft look he offers you seems to ease your tension a little. 

"I have…”, you draw a sharp breath, "...no experience in this field , if you catch my drift...”. You mutter those few words in a small voice as your face twists into a grimace. 

Your confession hangs in the air for what feels like eternity, your heart seems to have stopped beating altogether. 

"I know."

“Wha-?!”

You are completely thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone.

"H-how? Why-" you stutter, mouth gaping, your eyes wide. How could he know? You've never told anybody, not until a few minutes ago. But he couldn't have heard you, could he? That would be impossible. 

"Is it really so fucking obvious?" 

"No.” 

In stark contrast to yours, his voice sounds cool and collected. His fingers graze your skin as they move up from your chin to your cheek. "I figured you had no idea how this worked when suddenly you’re lacking your usual confidence and turning into a bloody school-girl. It threw me off at first. I thought you didn’t want this…”

" Hell…”, your head slowly shakes in disbelief, eyes darting to the side. 

Suddenly you don’t know if you should feel relieved, ashamed or sorry for it all. Your own body chooses for you, opting for an odd mix of the three; shoulders slumping, mind buzzing, you stare into space while his words sink in. 

So he's been into you the whole time but your mixed signals, caused by your stupid anxieties, have made it look like you were not into him? Or that you were just playing with him? Seriously? What kind of shitty B-rated rom com is this? 

" So , you've never been held by a man.” Simon’s calm voice draws you back to the moment, his fingers taking hold of your chin once again. “ Blimey . Is that what makes you so nervous?" 

"Is it really not a problem for you?" you ask out of genuine curiosity, brows furrowing as your eyes meet his.

Simon’s scoff almost turns into a hearty laugh as he holds your gaze, eyes crinkling.

"No man has ever put their filthy hands on you and I should be - what? Sad? Disappointed? For God's sake, princess..."

He shakes his head, fingertips taking better hold of your jaw as he leans down.

“You and your worries…” His tone is almost scolding but playfully so, eyes studying every feature of your face. “Stop thinking so much, you numpty . It’s not good for you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know…”, you let out a long shuddering breath, in an attempt to let go of the lingering worry still tightening your throat, "I just… don't want to fuck this up, Si. You mean too much to me..."

He hums softly. 

Silence engulfs you. A silence tinged with renewed tension. Not the type of tension that fuels your anxieties but the kind that makes you warm inside. Soft distant notes coming from downstairs fill the room, washing over you in a soothing yet electric wave, reminding you of the dance you shared, of how close you were and the desire that was rising, burning hot, inside of you. 

Just like a magnet the attraction between you and Simon grows. 

His free hand moves on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and just like before, out of instinct, your hands land on his chest. He holds your chin high, his gaze piercing straight to your heart.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" 

You bite your lip, surprised by his forwardness, a nervous giggle shaking through you. "What kind of question is that-"

"Do you want me to kiss you, princess?" 

He asks a second time with a more serious tone that makes your nervous giddiness fade. Looking deep into his eyes, you take a long breath to ease your racing heart, or at least attempt to.

"Y-yeah, I want you to kiss me."

His hand moves over yours resting on his chest, and guides it up to his neck. 

"Pull up my mask, uncover my mouth. Only my mouth."

You stop breathing altogether, heart jumping in your throat. 

"Y-You want me to do it?" 

"Aye."

Touching his mask, pulling it up to uncover his face feels like such an intimate gesture… Your eyes roam reverently over his newly uncovered skin as your fingers gently peel up the fabric of his balaclava, until his mouth is completely exposed to your sight and you can let your adoring gaze truly linger for the first time. You’ve caught glimpses of his face before, his chin looking vaguely familiar for the few times you’ve seen Simon drink or eat in front of you and the team. But that’s all it has ever been: glimpses. You’ve never been allowed to study his clean-shaved chin and alluring mouth like you are now, from so up close.

"You have pretty lips…"

Your comment slips out of your mouth before your mind could register it and you grimace out of embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, that was-" 

Words die on your tongue as soon as you feel his hand firmly squeeze your jaw. Your eyes immediately dart to his, which bore into yours. Slowly - breathtakingly slow, he draws closer until his lips hover inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You swallow dry. In a heartbeat he closes the distance, kissing you gently, softly but with a clear, barely-withheld passion. 

You respond to the kiss after a moment of stun. The contact of his lips on yours feels like a soft dream at first, one that seizes your mind in a haze and makes you walk on cloud nine, and then grows in force, as if Simon can't contain his desire any longer.

Your lips part and his tongue slips into your hot mouth, eager to explore this new territory. You moan in the kiss and meet him in a twisting dance of control. 

Every move comes surprisingly natural to you, as if you’ve done this a million times before.

His hand travels down from your back to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze, then slips even lower to lift your short black dress at its edges and tug it upward just enough to expose the back of your thighs. He doesn't waste time when moving his hand onto that newly uncovered area, kneading the tight flesh there as he bends forward, causing you to arch your back and latch your hands around his neck. Bodies tucking closer. 

You take a deep breath as you slightly pull away, lips still grazing his, your hot breaths merging together. 

All the words you thought would play out in your head in such an important moment are now nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s all just a feeling of rightness between you and him. None of your fantasies could have ever prepared you for a feeling so… intoxicated. 

"Simon…", you usher in a barely audible whisper, slipping your hand under his jacket and feeling his muscles tense under your wandering touch. His lust clouded eyes search yours, his chest heaving hard, hands pressing against you and relenting a second later, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. 

"...I want you to be my first."

A guttural sound comes out of his mouth at your words, his fingers spread again on your ass cheek, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper. His gaze seems to get darker and he draws closer once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip, nibbling at it. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive."

And just like that, as if a barrier has been finally lifted, his lips crush onto yours once more but harder, hungrier than the first time. In one swift motion he yanks the biker jacket off your shoulders and tosses it on the floor. You instantly match his eagerness, returning the favour; his own windbreaker dropping at your feet. 

Before your mind can register what’s happening, you find yourself back against the wall, your shoulder blades hitting the hard surface in an audible thud. You feel your guts twist as heat starts to pool in your belly. 

Your lips are still connected, unwilling to separate. His hands dive on your hips, the thin fabric of your flared dress creases under his ravenous groping. One hand slides down, curling up the hem and slipping underneath, meeting the side of your bare upper thigh. His palm closes around it, firmly, possessively as he lifts your leg up to his hip; you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find a red mark on your skin later, nor would you be displeased. You moan in his mouth in response and let your own hands wander on his body, blindly scanning the muscles of his torso from above his sweatshirt, only to slide lower and lower, until you find its edges and curl them up. Your fingers sneak under the fabric, meeting the smooth skin of his abdomen; his muscles tense up at the teasing contact. Your palms climb up his abs, his pecks, committing the tactile sensation of every inch of his taut torso to memory. 

As you both pull away, gasping for air, you let your eyes fall to where your hands disappear under his clothes; you want to look at him, feast your hungry eyes on his naked body but before you can do it yourself, Simon grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it off his head, adding it to the rest of your discarded clothes. However, he doesn’t give you time to take his bare chest in, for he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all, walks you over to the bed and drops you on the mattress. 

Only at this moment are you allowed to let your eyes wander over the muscles of his torso, probably the only part of his body you've already had the pleasure of seeing in the past, although mostly in not so pleasant times, when he needed to be patched up. This time it's totally different. Your hungry gaze devours every inch of him, glinting in twisted pleasure when it meets the scars that you remember having tended to yourself. 

You're too eager to touch him again to keep laying there waiting. Quickly throwing your boots off the side of the bed, you crawl on your knees toward him, hands latching on the inseam of his trousers to unzip them. In the meantime he yanks his own boots off his feet and out of the way, with eyes glued to yours. 

When you're done with his zip, before you can tug his jeans down, he pushes you back on the mattress and joins you on the bed, settling himself on top of your body, knees resting at either side of your legs. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”

The way his raspy voice breaks a little as he ushers his confession makes your stomach twist.

“Do w-what, exactly?”

His hands move on your collarbone, peeling the thin straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. You allow him to tug them down your chest as you look up at him with nothing but unyielding passion. His eyes wander over your freshly uncovered breasts and you can see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw setting hard. 

He takes a moment to answer, staring down at you, perhaps struggling to give voice to something that has been swirling against the recesses of his mind for quite some time. 

“Push you on a bed, pin your body under mine and… taste you.”

A sharp shiver runs up your spine at his words, heart skipping a beat. 

One of his palms closes around your breast, firmly squeezing the soft flesh, while the other lifts the skirt of your dress up to your stomach. Without missing a beat he bends down beneath your thighs and presses his mouth against your panties, just above your lower belly. 

“Oh!”

Your hips buck up on their own at the sudden stomach-churning contact. His free hand moves to rest on your upper thigh, pressing your body back against the mattress. 

"This is uncharted territory, innit?"

"I-It is, Lieutenant…", you match his playful tone even though your voice is but a mere whisper, struggling to get out in between your ragged breaths, "...nobody has yet claimed that path..."

You hear him hum in appreciation and you feel his voice too, vibrating against your core.

"Don't mind if I do."

You take a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against you again, only lower this time, teasing your most sensitive part. The thin fabric of your underwear does nothing to muffle the intense touch and yet the obstacle irritates you, you want it out of the way and Simon seems to share your feelings. Both his hands move on your hips, grabbing the hem of your panties and sliding them down and off your legs. A thrill curses through your whole body at the sight of your undies being tucked inside the back pocket of his jeans. Simon’s eyes crinkle lightly as they watch your reaction, lips curving into a smirk.

You don’t really care about them now, whether he’s planning on returning them or making you walk out of here butt naked. All your attention is drawn to the cool breath blowing against your delicate skin, turning hot only a second later as Simon leans closer, until you feel his lips meet your heat and cause you to whimper. The cloth of his mask grazing against your folds only adds to the stimulating touch.

His hot tongue swipes up your core once, twice, with hands spreading you wider for him to reach every inch of you. Another slow stripe from your entrance up to your clitoris and your body shakes in ecstasy. He latches his lips to you and starts to suck hard, swirling his tongue around your nub and dragging it up and down along your wetness. 

He said it. He wanted to taste you. And that is exactly what he’s doing, with no hesitation whatsoever, nor waste of time. You’re already a quivering mess beneath him, pathetic whines falling from your parted lips, hands closing in fists as fingers dig into the sheets. 

“F-Fuck, Simon…”

You feel his soft chuckle against you; it drives you mad. 

He shifts from his position, lips pulling away as he grabs the back of your thighs to tug you closer and pin your spread legs to your stomach. You chance a look at him through your heavy lidded eyes. His lips and chin are wet with your juices, the sight ignites a fire inside you that you’ve never felt before. The way you’re spread for him, your privateness so thoroughly exposed for the first time in your life… you thought that you’d be embarrassed, that you’d be awfully shy to show yourself like this, especially to him. You do sense a faint tightness in your stomach and a warmth spreading in your face, yet there’s another feeling prevailing over the rest. A feeling that surges from Simon himself; the way he leans back down, hands travelling up your body to grab your breasts, the way he’s devouring you like a starved man, the way he’s taking care of you, making sure to pleasure you, to make you feel good… It allows no room for awkwardness or discomfort, only a warm pervasive and soothing feeling of pure care and devotion to wash over you and envelope you whole. 

The lewd sound of his mouth working against you has long prevailed over the music and it only seems to grow in tone the more the tightening of the heat in your belly grows in intensity. You feel it coming, the high is close. Your hands fly toward him, landing on his head. You grab his mask, tug at it, feeling it slip from its place, then you freeze abruptly, as soon as you realise what you’re doing. You look down again, instantly meeting Simon’s hard stare. A strange glint passes over his eyes; he seems to ponder something for a moment then come to a final decision. In a few dismissive moves, he pulls away from you, grabs the dark fabric curled under his nose and yanks it off his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. 

Your heart is sent into a frenzy. It no longer knows what to do; whether it should keep thundering in your heart for the intense and building pleasure or stopping altogether for the shock of what you have just witnessed. Your wide eyes wander toward him, curious and hesitant at the same time but they only catch a glimpse of his bare face before he disappears between your legs once again, latching his mouth on you even more greedily than before, possibly feeling more free in his movements without the mask impediment. You want to watch him, stare at him as he drives you to heaven but your head falls back on the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and back arching sharply as a wave of skin-crawling chills sets your entire body aflame. It is nothing like the orgasms you’ve had before, when you touch yourself. This is a new feeling; it’s intense, it goes to your head, it makes you dizzy and wordless. It makes you feel loved. 

Simon keeps moving against you, tongue curling at your entrance, gathering up the fruits of his hard work. His hands still pinning your thighs close to your stomach, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he eases your shakes. 

Your mind is still struggling to come out of the haze when your hand blindly travels down in search of him. Fingers tug at his short locks of hair, urging him to come up to meet you. He lingers a moment longer to press a soft kiss on your swollen bundle of nerves, then on your lower belly and between your breasts as he makes his ascent. Finally he faces you, eyes meeting again. 

If your body wasn't already heavily overwhelmed, the sight of his beautiful sharp features would send all your senses into overdrive. 

He looks at you so openly, dark eyes twinkling with adoration and what you can only read as vulnerability, that you find yourself unsure of how to act. 

Would this special moment turn awkward if you were to make a comment on his looks? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Removing his mask must take such an effort… you don’t want to risk making this more stressful for him. You opt for keeping your comments to yourself, at least for now. 

Instead, you let your hand rest on his face, caressing his skin, softly, slowly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world and you have to handle it with utmost care. You hope that by doing this you can show him and reassure him that everything is ok, nothing has changed, surely not for the worse. That you deeply appreciate the fact that he decided to let his guards down, to be vulnerable with you. That’s what you try to convey with your adoring gaze and your tender touch, and you sincerely hope it reaches him.

When you feel him lean into your touch, a content smile spreads on your face and you instinctively tilt your head up, capturing his damp lips in a passionate kiss that instantly rekindles the desire inside of you. Simon matches your eagerness, hands travelling down your body to caress, grab, squeeze, grope and tease anything he finds on his path. You do the same, mapping his muscular torso, skimming your fingers down to his navel. 

For a moment, only a moment, you hesitate to go lower as you get caught up in your head, worries threatening to hold you back again, but the way he interrupts the contact of your lips to place a trail of sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck makes your worries fade again and you slip your hand inside his unzipped jeans. You relish in hearing the guttural sound that rewards your action; it compels you to rub your hand over his boxers with more confidence, feeling his bulge with a light squeeze.

Simon hastily brings his hand to his waistband and tugs it down, his boxers receive the same treatment. Your hand now closes around his erection, giving it a few tentative strokes. He draws a sharp breath.

“ Bloody hell , princess…”

He mutters in the crook of your neck and you shiver. His reaction encourages you to increase the vigour of your movements.

“Is this ok?”

He hums softly, hips starting to buck in sync with your hand. He lets you fondle him, drag your fingers on the tip wet with precum, make him moan in pleasure as your hold around his girth tightens… then he pulls away, grabs your hand and brings it to his lips for a soft peck on its back.

You follow his movements, eyes drawn to his lips then flickering down to his cock. By the touch you assumed it was pretty big and the sight only confirms your thoughts but it shocks you anyway.

You hear him huff a laugh through his nose.

“Do you think you can take me, mh?”

Your eyes dart back to his face, meeting his amused look.

“I don’t know…”, you bite your lips, the angles of your mouth curling up in a playful smirk, “but I sure as hell ain’t gonna back down from a challenge.”

Your heart soars with joy seeing his face crack into a pleasantly surprised expression, a chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“Good girl.”

He pins you with his mesmerising gaze, bending down on you again. He leans on the side, toward the bedside table. You crane your neck to watch. His hand slips into a black smoking-bowl and comes back with a small metallic sachet. Protection. Of course. This place is well-equipped. Your curious eyes keep following his movements as he takes the condom and secures it onto his throbbing erection. You swallow as his gaze moves back on your face, your stomach starts churning again. He seems to sense your nervousness and leans down, hand grabbing your jaw, eyes piercing right into yours.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be gentle.”

You nod with a smile, then take a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I trust you, Si.”

He leans in for a quick soft kiss, hand guiding his erection between your legs, tip rubbing against your slit to coat it in your wetness. Your whole body tingles in anticipation. 

“Stop me anytime if you need to.”

He waits for your confirmation before he slides in, bit by bit, easing you to the intrusion. An instant groan comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re so fucking tight!”

Your brows furrow, your jaw sets, soft cries come out of you as he settles inside your walls but you don’t stop him. He kisses your neck, right on the spot he learned that makes you quiver the most, your hands clutched at his sides. It doesn’t take long for the nagging feeling to fade and for you to get accustomed to the sensation as your core stretches to welcome him fully.

Simon feels your body relax and starts to push into you, slowly, carefully, letting out pleased grunts of his own. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and lift them up to his waist. You latch your legs around his body, a maneuver that allows him to bury his cock deeper inside you and that causes a loud moan to erupt from you.

“G-God… That’s…”

His lips trail back from your neck to your jaw, teasingly brushing your skin, until they hover on your open mouth; his eyes take in your contorting features with a pleased smile. 

He rocks at a steady pace against you while his hands roam your body, travel up your hips, caress your breasts, skim along the shape of your arms, stopping only to let his fingers interlace with yours, and pin your hands down to the mattress, at either side of your head.

You feel your lucidity slip from you completely. No coherent words come out of you, only a nonsensical mumbling. The way he’s thrusting inside of you, so deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot at each push, it takes every fiber in your being not to scream out loud and make the whole pub know how Simon’s fucking you sensless. 

You can only focus on how you’re connected to him, how he is filling you up so beautifully, how your bodies move wonderfully together; it’s almost like a dance, a primal animalistic dance that belongs to you two only. You even have the music to accompany your dance moves, a soft sensual melody that perfectly complements your passion-imbued union of trembling bodies.

So this is how it feels to have sex? This is how it feels to be wholly consumed by lust and desire? Or could this overwhelming sensation simply be Simon’s doing? To have him make love to you?

“Y/n…”

It takes a lot of effort for you to hum back in response.

Simon’s lips crush clumsily against yours as his movements become frantic and sloppier. He must be close to reaching the high. And so are you. Your eyelids are heavy, your sight slightly blurred and unfocused.

“Si, I think I’m about to-”

He pulls away from your lips, spine straightening, piercing eyes landing on your face as one of his hands slips from yours and travels along your body, down toward your core. He deliberately rubs your slit with his palm before he picks up a hectic waving motion to stroke your swollen nub, immediately triggering a shock wave of shivers to spiral up your back. Your head spins at the additional stimuli. Your eyes squeeze shut, cries fall out of your mouth as you contort in pleasure.

You feel his other hand grab your jaw and shake it lightly, demanding your attention.

“Eyes on me, beautiful.”

You look up at him with glazed eyes, dizzy and yearning for your release. With every stroke and every thrust you lose yourself more and more into the bliss.

His hand settles on your neck, closing around your throat, not hard enough to delay your breathing but providing you with such a thrilling and wicked pressure that makes you salivate and that instantly sends heat flaring in your belly, causing your need to build faster and even more intense.

Panting hard, your hands now free, you grip onto Simon’s strong arms while you progressively lose focus on every way he’s indulging your desire, instead centring your heightened senses on the feelings he’s awakening. The last thread of restraint then finally snaps and you reach the peak, core lightening with an answering flame that you’ve never felt before. You lose yourself in the waves of pleasure overtaking you, barely taking notice of Simon’s rutting inside you once, twice, three more times before his body goes still against you and a deep groan erupts from him. Both of you anchor the other’s body, pressing together, relishing in the other’s shudders and panting breaths. You’re so flush against him that you can feel his heart, challenging your own in a speed race and then gradually slowing down.

Chest heaving, you cradle the back of his head, letting your fingers thread between the roots of his hair, while he blows his hot breath on the crook of your neck as you both ease down from your highs. The warmth of his body is comforting against yours, you never want him to let go. The rousing feeling of his cock still buried inside you, resting between your fluttering walls is one you could easily get used to. It almost takes your breath away when Simon slides out of you, leaving you bare.

His damp lips press against your boiling skin, trailing up your jaw. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, committing this idyllic moment to memory. 

His thumb gently strokes your chin, fingers resting upon your cheek. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you with the loveliest smile you've ever seen graze his face. You return it with one of your own.

"Si..." you pause, staring deep into his eyes. There's so much you want to say, a multitude of emotions running wild and untamed inside of you that needs to be addressed and yet you struggle to find the right words to tell him how you feel.

The realisation of what has just happened downs on you. You've spent years fantasising about this moment, fearing the real thing wouldn't even come close to your idealised perfect first time. Wondering when, where, with whom you would live through this experience. You're euphoric to admit to yourself that the real thing has surpassed the fantasy by a landslide. 

"I'm... glad it was you."

It sounds silly when you say it. You could have chosen from a billion other thoughts you had swirling in your head, yet this one drowned out the rest. But as silly as it may sound, it’s the truth: you’re beyond thrilled he was your first. There’s no other man in your life that you trust, respect, and love as much as him with whom you could share such intimacy. 

You see the angle of his lips curl up to one side, the pad of his thumb softly brushing the outline of your bottom lip. 

" I'm glad it was me ."

Your face cracks as you erupt in a giggle. With your palm against his cheek, you gently push him away. "Simon..."

He smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling as he leans down again to kiss the crown of your head before drawing all the way back and getting off the bed. 

Your gaze follows him as he tosses the used condom into the trash can and pulls up his underwear and jeans. As he picks up the rest of his clothes from the floor and gets dressed again, your devoted gaze glides up and down his body, a permanent smile engraved to your lips. You feel so lucky to be able to witness such a sight… You still have a hard time believing your eyes.

“Now, who’s enjoying the show ?”

His amused glance meets yours, and you give him a sheepish smile, followed by a shrug.

"I'm just taking it all in..."

"Oh, you've already taken it all in , princess."

You let out a shocked scoff, your mouth wide open. You dismissively wave your hand in front of your face and shake your head, as you feel a crawl of heat flooding to your cheeks. 

"Oh, shut up..."

You love his sense of humour. It’s one of the qualities you like the most about him. And now that you’re… well, even closer to him, the sarcasm is only bound to get more pungent. Not that you’d complain about it.

His low chuckle fills your ears as you distract yourself by adjusting your bra and dress, then taking a seat on the side of the bed to slip your boots back on. You notice a heap of black and white fabric on the floor at your feet and bend down to pick it up. It's his balaclava.

The thought doesn’t even have time to fully form in your mind that you’re already pulling the mask over your head. Unfortunately there’s no mirror in the room to check your reflection, to see how the skull fits you but the cloth feels surprisingly nice against your skin and… you can smell his scent.

The sudden lack of rustling from behind you causes you to spin around and you find Simon staring at you, holding your jacket. He walks toward you, handing you the garment, reaching then for your face to adjust the fabric on your nose and on your chin. He stops to give you an appraising look.

"It looks better on me."

You chuckle, smacking him playfully on the chest. “Oh, c’mon… what if I want to wear one, too?”

"And hide your beautiful face? Negative.”

“Well, then…”, you pin him with a challenging look, palms pressing hard against your cheeks, securing the mask on your head. “I won’t let you hide your beautiful face, either.”

You see him softly shake his head as he huffs a chuckle through his nose. After a moment, he reaches for his back pocket and retrieves your undies, waving them high above your head. 

“What? You’ll put those on your head instead?”

You try to suppress the laugh by biting on your lips but it erupts out of you anyway, like a river in flood. The pointed look he gives you only makes it worse.

“Alright, alright…”

Still snickering, you pull on the fabric and peel it off your head, holding it out to him. 

He takes the mask from you but doesn’t let go of your undies. He puts them back in his pocket as casually as he took them out.

You scoff, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" 

“I’m keeping them, as a memento.”

You stare at him, appraising his solemn expression. If he wants them then you’ll let him have them - the fabric is ruined anyway. They're not even your favourite pair, thankfully.

“First and last time you steal something from me, Si!”

“Can’t make promises, princess.” 

Your chest swells as you try to read between the lines. It's inevitable. You can't help but wonder if he means to tell you something else. Will there be a next time, or multiple next times? Does he plan on stealing something else? Like, your heart? To be honest, he's already halfway there, but he doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. 

You keep on looking into each other's eyes for a bit longer. You think you can detect the profound fondness behind his look. Your lips curl up in a shy smile.

“Ehm… I believe we kept the guys waiting long enough." you say, breaking the silence. "We should get back downstairs."

He gives you a curt nod but instead of moving away, he draws closer to you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he leans down and angles your head to brush one more kiss against your lips. The contact is strikingly gentle and it takes your breath away. It’s a kiss infused with unspoken words of devotion, promises, feelings which are too strong to be shared so early on but that are already there, growing, blossoming. Both your hearts are gardens in bloom. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours for a lingering moment before taking a step back and disguising his face once again. 

The action saddens you but at the same time it fills your chest with pride; you're the only one who has been blessed to bask in the beauty of his seldom-seen bare face and no one else will receive such special treatment. Not today. Hopefully never. Is it selfish of you to wish that? Perhaps, but you don't care. Not when images of your lovemaking are still so fresh in your mind. Not when you can still feel the worshipping touch of his hands and tongue on your body. Certainly not when the cool, humid air of the room hits the wetness of your exposed core beneath the dress. 

You exchange a knowing look before moving towards the door and walking down the stairs together. That soothing tune, now linked with poignant core memories, floods in your ears once again, growing louder as you return to the main area and towards the bar. Your team is still at the counter, exactly where you left them... how long ago? You have no idea how much time has passed. You were too engrossed in your passion to pay attention to the outside world and its trivialities.

Johnny glances behind his shoulder just as you and Simon make a beeline toward the group. You can see his lips moving; he must be saying something to the others because they all crane their heads to look at you before returning to their drinks. Soap is the only one who whirls around, bivouacing on his seat and all over the counter like a fucking braggart as he meets your eyes and winks at you. 

Oh, he'll take yours and Simon's hookup as a personal victory, and he'll brag about it; you already know it. But you're far too happy right now to be bothered by it. Let him gloat. You're the one who got the reward, anyway. 

When you eventually make it to the bar, no one acknowledges your arrival. Nobody says anything about your absence or the dance prior to that. Their silence only serves to emphasise that they are all aware of what happened. The furtive glances they cast your way, some more mischievous than others, serve as plain confirmation. 

"Now that we're all here, I suppose we can head out." 

The captain's voice calls out to everyone as he stands up from the barstool. "Unless the two lovebirds fancy one last drink?" 

You try to ignore the appellation he used and the way your stomach flipped in response. You raise one hand and shake your head, avoiding his eyes as well as the urge to glance up at Simon. "I'm good."

A beat.

"Alright then. Off we go."

On cue, everyone gets off their seats, some knocking back their glasses, others stretching their legs. You take advantage of the shuffle to walk over to Johnny and hold out the key to him. He takes it back without a word but the sly smile playing on his face is hard to miss. You hope at least he has the decency to hold off of grilling you for deets until you’re back at the HQ.

You seem to catch a movement in your peripheral vision: Price giving Simon a firm pat on the shoulder? You’re tempted to turn your head to take a better look when a loud scoff interrupts you and draws your attention back to your best mate.

"Bloody hell, y/n! You and L.T. are not joking around!" 

Your brows furrow upon hearing his remark and when you follow the trajectory of his stunned look, your eyes widen as they meet the cloth of your undies poking out of his back pocket. You spring into action right away, grasping the exposed edge to yank it farther inside his jeans. Simon’s own hand reaches behind him to wrap around yours, fingers interlacing, as he maintains his focus on Price in front of him. Your chest swells at the gesture, heat rising in your cheeks,  but you manage to turn around and zap Johnny with a fierce glare anyway.

He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. However, the grin he flashes you is so contagious that you find yourself returning one of your own.

It appears like you're in for a ride full of taunts, jokes, knowing looks and funny name-calling. Your mates will give you two no rest… but who gives a shit about it? Simon said it first. Why should you care? You'll take this and much worse if it means getting the chance to explore your feelings with the man of your dreams and spending many more nights out - or inside his spacious office - dancing together.

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[moonstruck-poet]

I love you I'm sorry

Pairing - Elijah Mikaelson x reader!

Summary - all the times when Elijah had come close to expressing his love, but he simply was not able to.

Warnings - being drunk, alcohol

Elijah Mikaelson wasn't known to be a very trustworthy man. The only people whom he could trust, or rather be sure of were his family. Though of course he had been daggered by his own brother quite a few times, he still trusted them.

You were one such person. Despite not being blood related, the bond he shared with you was as strong as he did with his siblings. You were his best friend, his ally even before he had transitioned into a creature of the night. And being close to the Mikaelsons since the very beginning, you too had shared the same fate.

Someone would think that being alive for more than centuries would wisen a man. And certainly, Elijah had a fearsome intellect, but his intelligence always seemed to lack in matters involving romance.

As could be observed from his numerous failed relationships. Not that it was always his fault, but he just felt something was missing every time. He couldn't place a finger on it, but it felt odd, uncomfortable, as though the woman despite being very lovely just wasn't meant for him.

And so he had given up pursuing anyone, unaware of the fact that his heart had already resigned itself to someone. A girl he has known since adolescence, a person who watched him grow and grew beside him every step of the way. He had only ever seen her, regarded her as his closest friend, nothing more.

====================================

He was currently lounging in the Mystic Grill, nursing a glass of bourbon. It was late evening, not much happening around which was a strange but welcomed relief.

His dark brown eyes were alert, as they always were as he surveyed the crowd. They darted towards the entrance on hearing familiar voices laughing. There you were, dressed as impeccably as him in a pristine white shirt paired with black trousers. You had your sleeves rolled up much like him, not a crease visible on the fabric either.

Even though he had seen you in similar outfits more than a thousand times already, a small smile still made its way on his lips. He loved the fact that you shared his dressing style, though you preferred to not wear a blazer and rather opted for shirts only.

He could see Caroline and Bonnie beside you, the girls laughing as you whispered something, having to lean down a little due to your tall frame.

You were probably having a girl's night, wanting a break from all the drama which seemed never ending. Elena unfortunately had bailed rather reluctantly, having to go on a date with Stefan and you all had reassured her that it was okay.

Elijah would've loved nothing more than to call you just so he could have your attention, but he didn't do that. You already spent most of your time together, you were allowed to hang out with people other than the dear Mikaelsons.

So he settled to simply watch you, obviously not in the disturbing manner but out of genuine interest. He saw you on one of the tables, the three of you so caught up in your conversation that you couldn't care less about the world.

Bonnie pulled out her phone to show something and Caroline squealed, placing her hand over her mouth while he watched you smirk and chug down a shot. Elijah was so enraptured by your mere presence across the room that he didn't notice the time pass. He was snapped out of his trance when he noticed the blonde vampire tapping your shoulder and pointing towards his position and he quickly averted his gaze.

He downed his glass and his head turned involuntarily on seeing you walk from his peripheral vision. The grin that was on your face had been mirrored on his too, though it was much smaller and more collected.

"Hey 'lijah," you smiled, slipping into the seat beside him and accepting the glass he slid over, turning his body to face you.

His heart warmed at the nickname, it was only you who called him that.

"Hello, good day so far I'm assuming?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"A great day indeed," you agreed. "Quite unusual but who is complaining".

He chuckled softly, voice low and deep enough to make a woman squirm in her seat. "Another one?" He gestured towards the empty glass, already signalling for one but you shook your head.

"I'm on the verge of being completely and absolutely knackered, Elijah. I'm afraid I have to turn down your offer," you sighed, folding your hands on top of each other on the table and resting your head on them, eyes closing immediately.

A few strands of your hair had fallen out from the intricate braid made by Rebekah no doubt. They fell over your forehead, resting on your cheek and fluttering slightly in the wind. An intense urge to place them behind your ear rose in him, to adjust your messed up hair gently. He didn't understand this sudden need to touch you, but he held himself.

"You can't sleep here, you know?" He smiled, a playful glint in his eyes as you groaned at the prospect of getting up.

"On the contrary, I'm quite comfortable thank you," you mumbled, peeking an eye open and were rewarded with his gorgeous smile. Oh how handsome he looked in the dim lighting of the bar, his beautifully sculpted face only being highlighted more intensely.

His lips only widened at your answer and he was about to retort when there was a loud bang, immediately followed by a multitude of screams as people scurried away.

And without a pause, without a moment of hesitation, Elijah had wrapped his arms around you and sped over to the nearest corner. He didn't care as to who saw him, the only thought in his mind was to get you to safety.

He backed you against the wall, hands still on your waist as he carefully looked around the wall. Trying to narrow the source of the ruckus. Another loud crack exploded in the bar earning more rounds of screams and shouts.

As though it were second nature, he pressed his body forward, shielding yours effectively while your eyes looked wild with concern.

That's when a voice called out through the noise, "Terribly sorry everyone! Some fireworks here went askew!" He finished earning loads of curses and groans. "Sorry!!"

A relieved sigh was heard from you and Elijah visibly relaxed despite his expression being of someone who wanted to slaughter a man alive. His eyes finally met yours and he felt his heart beating abnormally once he registered the mere inches of space between you two. You were all but a few centimetres shorter than him but he always had this aura of towering over you.

"We're okay, 'lijah," you murmured, your voice low as you brought him in an embrace. Wrapping your arms around his neck gently. His body tensed before relaxing, his hands snaking past your waist to engulf you in his hold.

You made a move to pull away but the man did not move a muscle, his head resting atop yours as he held you close. So you stayed for a little while longer, giving him the satisfaction that you were indeed safe.

He took a step back, breaking the hug but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to detach his hands from you. Wanting to feel your skin underneath his fingers, to sense your warm body against his.

You smiled at his slightly messed up hair and styled it back properly. His eyes involuntarily closed at your soft touches, leaning into your hand and feeling his heart slowly coming back to normal.

"Let's go home, shall we?" You spoke, looking a little worried at his silence and the way he hurriedly stepped back, his face heating up slightly.

He only nodded as you navigated through the crowd, your hand finding Elijah's on its own accord. As you were facing forward, you failed to see the small grin on his face as he looked at your hands, his chest feeling obnoxiously tight for some unknown reason as he let himself be dragged away.

Caroline and Bonnie, unbeknownst to the duo had seen his expression. And naturally they caught on immediately, their faces showing a mixture of surprise, shock, and delight.

Surprise, at the sight of the stoic, dangerous Elijah Mikaelson as he was pulled by a woman. Not any random woman too of course. He showed absolutely no resistance and the girls knew that the man would follow you to the ends of Earth if you asked him to.

Shock, because no way in hell did they expect to see the amount of gentleness his face bore. All for you. His usual serious exterior had melted away to reveal a feeling of utter adoration.

And delight as they knew he was the perfect man, nobody else could even come close. Not only was he your closest friend, he already seemed like your other half. One couldn't think of Elijah without at least mentioning you too.

They saw it from their own eyes as one of the eldest Mikaelson was whisked off, and all they could see on his face was downright love.

====================================

"Oh come on!" Rebekah urged you as you shook your head. "It'll be fun and you know it".

"I know nothing".

"What are you two arguing about?" Klaus walked in with Elijah beside him who raised an eyebrow at the two best friends who rarely argued.

"I'm convincing her to go to the dance," Rebekah frowned shooting you glares while you were completely unbothered.

"And I'm telling you that me and dances do not go well. So far they've been nothing more than a fiasco," you grumbled, shaking off the memories.

"You cannot let your past be a judge of your future!"

"I can and I will".

She groaned and stood up, walking over to her brothers who merely watched with amusement. "Niklaus, make her see sense".

"I must admit dances are indeed fun, love," he said with a smile, settling down on the sofa.

"No they're not," you rolled your eyes and went back to your book.

"Then what am I supposed to do alone? I don't even have a date!" She exclaimed and snatched the book out of your hand making you narrow your eyes.

"Then get one for heaven's sake, Bekah," you sighed and placed your palm on your face. "And even if I agreed to go, what makes you think I can get myself a date in such short notice?"

"You'd be rather surprised," her lips morphed into a smirk which could be observed on Klaus' face too.

"Now what does that mean?" You asked suspiciously and they put their hands up in surrender.

"You've been quite silent on this matter, big brother," said Klaus and eyed Elijah who was clearly pretending to read the novel.

"And what do you expect me to say, Niklaus?" He replied without looking up.

"Tell your best friend to accompany me to the dance. We have dresses and I'll find a date for her too," Rebekah piped in eagerly. She knew that only he could persuade you.

"I think it is her choice".

"And that is exactly why I love you the most," you beamed at his answer, not noticing the way red dusted his cheeks as he bit back a smile.

"Oh shut up," the clearly frustrated vampire grumbled. "It's one dance!"

"Don't be such a downer, love. If it makes you feel better, me and Elijah will come too," Klaus said, his smile a little too wicked and Elijah's head snapped up at his statement, his face murderous.

The hybrid merely smiled sweetly, not at all scared and instead looked expectantly at you. You held his stare, crossing your arms for a full five seconds before caving in with an annoyed scoff.

"Fine!" You huffed, watching as the two siblings rejoiced at your reply. "How bad can it be".

"Exactly," Rebekah grinned and took your hand, probably dragging you off to her room to show you the many dresses she owned.

Once the ladies were out of their sight, Elijah turned towards his brother with a frown, "Did you have to include me in your shenanigans?"

"Well of course I did," Klaus said as if it were obvious. "How else was I supposed to convince her?"

"The least you could've done was at least ask me beforehand, Niklaus".

"What fun would that be. And also I was actually helping you in case you didn't notice".

"Help me how exactly?"

"So you can confess your not so little feelings for her, dear brother," he said with a full blown smile, dimples on full display.

Elijah stilled immediately, his body tensing as he clenched his jaw, "I don't harbour any feelings".

"Sure you don't," he teased in a sing-song voice, getting up and stretching his arms. "Deny it all you want, Elijah. But anybody with eyes can see the obvious love you have for her. And I must add, you're finally making a good choice! I approve," he winked at the baffled man.

"Klaus-" Elijah began but was cut off instantly.

"Now don't you try to deny it! I am willing to bet that every time you see her your heart starts besting faster. Whenever she laughs you feel your chest growing tighter and you want nothing more than to be the cause of it. Not to mention the fact that you literally worship the ground she walks on. Why do you think she always turns to you for everything, Elijah? Why she's always so open with you? She loves you and why can you not see that?"

Elijah was stunned to say the least. So shocked as he listened to Klaus' rant that for once in his long lifetime, his brother had managed to render him speechless. He exhaled deeply, god was he so obvious? But then how had you not noticed? Or maybe you had, he was just too blind to see it.

"Yeah now I can see the gears turning," Klaus muttered and left for his room.

It was evening and the time had arrived. You were all ready in your dress which looked absolutely stunning. It was a treasure from the 70s and you were glad to have worn it. Despite not wearing gowns often as you preferred shirts and trousers, you felt beautiful for once. Your appearance was a little more gentle, pretty and demure as compared to your usual hardened, regal state.

A gorgeous necklace was added as the finishing touch and you smiled on seeing yourself in the full size mirror, not being able to resist doing a small twirl. You looked like a literal princess.

There was a small knock on the door and in stepped Rebekah, looking equally and if not more beautiful. She let out a little gasp and hurried over, her eyes shining bright.

"Look at you," she smiled and made you do a tiny roundabout. "You look perfect".

"Do I?" You asked, a little uncertain as it had been a long time since you had dolled up so nicely.

"Without a doubt. Now come on then, the boys must be waiting," she grabbed your hand and you made the way down the elegant staircase, holding the dress up a little to walk properly.

She had somehow convinced Elijah to be your date and honestly you didn't mind at all. Much better to go with someone you know so well rather than with a stranger. Little did you know though, her brother hadn't required convincing at all.

Elijah was waiting at the bottom, dressed as impeccably as ever in a black suit. As soon as you came into view, he felt his heart stop. Quite literally. The world stopped spinning, everything around him had stilled and the only person he had eyes for, was you. In that breathtaking dress and walking right towards him.

He saw you in slow motion, taking in every inch of you and engraving it in his memory. He couldn't ever forget this sight, not even if he tried.

Your eyes met his and you gave him a small, rather shy smile. It was something so unlike you. But the man was still rooted to the spot, unable to formulate words as he took in your figure.

"Breathe brother," a sharp nudge from Klaus brought him back to Earth, though he was still slightly dazed. His mouth fell open a little when you stood in front of him, your stance a little nervous as you waited for him to say something.

"You look exquisitely beautiful," he breathed out, feeling a strange breathlessness. His tie felt increasingly tight around his neck while his hands were starting to sweat.

"Thank you," you replied, looking down as you flushed. "You've cleaned up nicely too".

He gave you a small smile before offering you his arm and you obliged, placing your palm gently in the crook while the other wrapped around his bicep.

During the small walk to the car you felt his eyes on you, scanning your face as though he was memorising every trivial detail. Having enough of his stare, you turned sideways, looking him right in the eye and instead of looking away like you expected him to, Elijah merely tilted his head adoringly.

You felt a sudden warmth settle in your chest as you got in the car, keen on avoiding his gaze for most of the night at least.

The journey was quite short and before you knew it, Rebekah had brought you to the bar and you had downed three shots already. Needing a bit of energy before moving to the dancefloor.

Elijah and Klaus were nowhere to be seen, probably off talking to familiar people and drinking their body weight.

Just as you got up, your three girl friends rushed towards you, greeting you with smiles and laughs. They fawned over your dress, complimenting you so much that your face had turned a permanent shade of pink.

"Let's go dance," Elena took your hand, taking you to one of the corners and you followed. Rebekah had already disappeared in the crowd somewhere.

The music was quite good, much similar to your taste and you swayed to the beat, enjoying yourself for once and letting go. It wasn't an easy life to be an Original and having such a close relation to the Mikaelsons. There was a constant threat of danger over your head. And it was moments like these that made you feel normal, happy and carefree.

You laughed with them, twirling Bonnie around and just being yourself. Soon enough your feet had begun aching and you excused yourself to go and sit. You spotted Elijah sitting near the bar and made a beeline for him.

His face visibly brightened on seeing you, a smile growing on his previously monotonous expression. "You look happy".

You nodded, chuckling and sat down with a sigh, "I'm enjoying this more than I thought I would".

He only smiled, offering you his half filled glass which you accepted, downing it in a single shot. "Thank you. And pray tell why are you sitting here all alone like a sulking child?"

"I was not sulking-" he began but you cut him off with an 'Oh please' face.

"Go out there, 'lijah. Get yourself a nice girl, ask her to dance. Nobody would say no to you, you know that right?"

"I don't dance," he said half heartedly. Who was he kidding, all he wanted right now was to take your hand and dance his heart out. And for once in his life, Elijah decided to listen to his thoughts.

He stood up, standing in front of you and extending his hand, "May I have this dance, miss?"

You were positively surprised, a small laugh escaping your lips at his theatrics but you nodded nonetheless. You placed your hand in his, allowing him to lead you to the dancefloor.

You faced each other, his fingers brushing delicately against your waist while the other hand held yours with equal tenderness. His eyes bore into yours, a newfound emotion swirling in them as he admired you. He had seen you a thousand times before, yet he found a new thing to look at everyday.

There was this different intensity in this gaze. Though you had looked at him many times already, you felt shy under his gaze.

He swayed you along with the music, matching the rhythm perfectly when he twirled you. His heart skipped a beat every time you laughed, he felt accomplished in a weird way. As though all he should do was to be the cause of your happiness.

The music changed to a slow one, as did the tension between you two. Because he stepped closer, your chests almost brushed due to the proximity. You kept your eyes downwards, afraid that if you looked up, you would lose control.

But Elijah seemed to have other plans. For he removed his hand from yours and placed a finger below your chin, slowly lifting your face upwards to meet his. Your breath hitched and your lips parted, watching as his eyes landed on them before flitting back up. He was too close. The distance was so small that you couldn't breathe. His intoxicating scent had engulfed you completely.

Elijah's heart had been racing madly, so much that he was afraid it would jump out of his chest. You were so close that all he had to do was lean in slightly and his lips would cover yours. Yet he didn't act upon his thoughts now, instead choosing to quietly admire you.

His hand now went to holding your waist and you shifted yours to lock behind his neck, unconsciously moving closer again.

"You do look beautiful tonight," he whispered, his deep brown irises not leaving yours for a second and his grip tightened, afraid that you would disappear.

"Tonight?" You asked teasingly, trying to distract yourself from the steadily rising blush.

He only chuckled, the sound so low that it reverberated in your very soul. "I have seen you a million times, yet you look as gorgeous as ever".

"What is it with the compliments today, Mikaelson? Maybe I should wear dresses more often".

"You don't require a dress to get them. I'll happily compliment you a thousand times over if that is what you wish for".

"Elijah.." you spoke softly, your heart racing uncontrollably as you looked at the man standing inches away from you.

"Yes, darling?" He replied back and you were a goner.

Before you could say something, Klaus had appeared beside you, a restless look in his eyes as he explained the arising problem. And leaving your little moment behind, you both were quick to follow him.

====================================

Elijah had been out of Mystic Falls for over a week now. He had been tagging alongside Klaus, keeping his brother from starting new trouble.

Which meant that it had also been a long time since he had last seen you. And though you two had been away for much longer in the past centuries, it didn't mean that he had gotten used to it.

Which explained his current situation as he tried his best to make Klaus see sense. Making him understand that there was no threat to him right now and so they should go back home. As soon as it was possible.

But what kind of a younger sibling would he be if he didn't torment his elders.

So he insisted on keeping them both in New Orleans for yet another week, claiming that he had found new information which was actually true.

And after a long fifteen days, Elijah Mikaelson was more than ready to get back home. Or he was ready to get back to his home. It wasn't as if he hadn't called you during his stay. He had, numerous times. But it wasn't the same as being near you, getting to see you firsthand. Which just proved yet again that he had fallen deeply.

And his wonderful family made sure to remind him time and time again.

But it was easier said than done. How did they just expect him to throw so many years of friendship down the drain, risk putting it on the line only because he had gotten his heart involved. He hadn't even known until Niklaus had pointed it out.

No wonder he always longed for your presence at the beginning and end of each day. Wanting to be there for you through all your highs and lows. He craved to have your attention all to himself.

And as they were nearing Mystic Falls every mile, he could not stop thinking about you.

"Slow down, brother. You're a little over the speed limit," Klaus smirked from the passenger seat and he rolled his eyes.

"Be silent for once, Niklaus".

"Oh I was just thinking that you should've confessed to her already! It might have escaped your notice, Elijah, but there are hoards of men out there who fancy our best friend dearly".

Elijah's grip tightened on the steering wheel but he didn't say anything. He wasn't blind, obviously he had noticed the looks you got from men and women during the ages. You were beautiful, smart, cunning, and loyal. What wasn't there to like?

Nearing the house, he pulled over and got out without wasting another minute. His strides fast as he made his way to the porch.

"Never thought I'd see the day with you being so desperately in love. But well, it's no ordinary girl either. If you don't hurry up brother, I might just swoop in myself".

The glare that he received could have had a mere human on their knees, trembling and withering. But being used to his brother's rather rare anger, Klaus only smiled brightly.

Rebekah was the one to greet them as they entered the living room. Elijah couldn't help himself as his eyes darted around, searching for you.

"Well hello to you too," Kol said with a smirk and sat down. "I'm hurt by your lack of greetings".

"You'll survive".

"Someone's a little feisty today. Care to explain the reason behind your sullen face?"

"It's obvious isn't it, Kol?" Rebekah answered his question with a smile of her own. "He's looking for her of course".

"It's quite unfortunate really," he sighed in reply, leaning back and watching his brother carefully as he delivered the news. "Seeing as she's on a date".

Elijah's neck snapped so quickly it was almost like someone had turned it for him. His eyes narrowed immediately as he sped over to the youngest, glaring down at him.

"Don't be dramatic. She's only out with Damon, it's certainly not a date," Rebekah rolled her eyes, feeling a little bad for her big brother.

"I'm only saying what I saw," he shrugged, thoroughly enjoying the way Elijah's body tensed with every word of his. Before he could utter anything else, the eldest had vanished from their sights.

"This might be fun," Klaus spoke at last, a devilish grin on his face.

With his pulse beating harshly, Elijah stepped foot inside one of the bars, having tracked you down with ease. The first one he saw was Stefan, his arms around Elena as they danced without a care.

He brushed past the crowds, ignoring the curses thrown his way and that's when his eyes fell on you. There you were, decked in your typical clothes but having opted for black jeans and a matching leather jacket instead.

His chest felt light almost instantly, a deep breath leaving his lungs as he saw you. A smile was about to break free but it was soon replaced by his dangerously calm face. Damon Salvatore had just appeared beside you, his hand around your shoulder as he led you to the bar to get more drinks.

Despite the loud, blaring music he saw you chatting animatedly with the vampire. He watched as Damon leaned in closer to you, whispering something in your ear resulting in a smile.

Elijah gritted his jaw, his grip tightening on the glass that he was holding. It was only a few seconds away from shattering into fragments. All he could do was grab another shot and chug it, the feeling of the alcohol slightly burning his throat was great.

He settled himself in a dark corner, away from your eyesight. A small wound seemed to be inflicted on his heart as he saw you throw your head back and laugh heartily. He could hear the sound. How could he not when it was the only thing that he had longed to hear these past days.

It was the last straw for him. When he saw how readily you had out your arms around Damon's neck, hugging him so tightly. He felt himself getting dizzy, emotions overwhelming him all at once making him realise that he was actually drunk.

God he hadn't been drunk in a long, long time.

He laughed, a hollow, low chuckle as he downed yet another glass. Watching the one woman he had always cared about from the bottom of his heart dance with another man.

And the next second, he felt pathetic. Disgusted at himself for being so selfish, for even entertaining thoughts like these. You were your own person, you could hang around with whomever you wanted. He didn't dictate your life, he didn't own you. But then how could he explain this empty feeling inside of him, it was torturing him.

He didn't know how long he sat there, staring into oblivion as he drank and drank. There were certainly benefits of becoming a vampire, and unlimited drinking was one of them.

His mind was filled with all sorts of memories he had shared with you. Some were happy, some were filled with anguish, rage, sadness. But all he could think about was how you were always there for him. Not thinking about yourself for a minute as you protected his family with him. You weren't even blood related, yet he remembered all those times when you had saved Klaus from the wrath of his father. Helping Rebekah through her many heartbreaks, pulling Kol back to reality when he took it too far at times, and being there for Finn whenever he needed someone to confide in.

It was only when the lights were slowly turning off that he came back to his senses. Realising that the bar was probably shutting down for the night, he got up, almost stumbling down. The time on his watch indicated that it was 2 am and he swallowed his heartbreak, cautiously walking out and enjoying the fresh gust of air.

And just when he thought he had rid himself of everything, a soft, gentle voice called his name. His eyes closed on their own, as the word rang in his ear.

Elijah slowly turned, seeing you walking over with a surprised smile which fell slightly on seeing his frazzled state. His blazer was hung over his arm, the tie hanging loose around his neck while the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. His dark hair was extremely tousled, signalling that he had been running his fingers through it a lot.

"Heyy," he grinned, his voice slurring which had your eyes widened. Elijah Mikaelson was drunk. Not just drunk, he was completely knackered.

"Woah there," you grabbed his shoulders, steadying him and helping him stand up straight. You took the coat from his hand. "What brings you here at this hour, 'lijah".

If possible his smile only stretched at the nickname. A dimple dotting his left cheek as he observed you silently. "I missed you".

His abrupt reply at you stunned for a moment, "Oh I- I missed you too".

Before you could add anything he exhaled heavily and threw his large frame onto yours, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you close.

You stayed for a while and let out a laugh, "Who knew you could be such a big baby?"

He didn't reply and only snuggled closer, his stubble ticking your neck and making goosebumps erupt on your arms.

"Elijah," you whispered, bringing a hand up to card your fingers through his hair, smoothing the wild locks and also providing comfort. "How long have you been here?"

"A long time," he replied, still not looking up and you sighed. Having to physically hold his face between your hands just so you could see him. "I saw you".

"Then why did you not say anything?"

"You were having a good time. I had no intentions of interrupting it".

You shook your head, a sad smile on your face, "You could never disrupt anything".

"You looked happy with Damon," he forced out a smile and now avoided eye contact fully. He pulled away and started walking, barely making three steps before the alcohol took over and he almost tripped, had it not been for you holding him.

"Let's go home, yeah?" You asked, trying to coax your obviously hurt friend into listening. You put an arm around his shoulder, giving him support while the other held his hand, leading him forward.

"Home," he repeated, his eyes twinkling. And you couldn't help but notice that his gaze never strayed away from you.

As soon as you reached the house, you vampire sped him to the living room, placing him on the sofa gently and getting a glass of water. The others were probably asleep, as there was minimal lighting.

"Feeling any better now?"

"Fine," came his short reply and you frowned, watching as he fiddled with his hands.

Not knowing how else to help him, you placed another water filled glass on the table before bidding him goodbye, telling him to call you if he needed anything at all.

"Stay," came his broken voice and you stopped in your tracks. That painful, one word piercing your heart like glass.

And how could you not?

"Always," you swallowed, taking in his vulnerable expression. The serious facade he usually maintained melting off to reveal a person who had endured hell.

You sat beside him, his eyes watching your every movement as you settled. And once you did, his arms were quick to wrap around your waist, holding your body tightly as if you were his anchor, his only link to reality.

A few peaceful moments passed but neither of you moved and Elijah naturally assumed that you had slept. He pulled back ever so slightly, enough to get a glimpse of your serene face. Not lined up by any troubles, it was still.

"How can I ever repay you for all that you've done for me? Nobody is even capable of saying the things that you have managed to show. I regret not having told you this, but you truly are the best thing that has ever happened to me. And what would I do to give you back a small ounce of what you had bestowed upon me all these years".

He couldn't help it as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Lingering for a few seconds, savouring the feeling while also trying to pour out all the emotions that had seized control of his heart.

Elijah woke up the next morning with an unfamiliar but comfortable weight on his chest. He was about to move but something stopped him. He blinked his eyes, getting rid of the sleep as his vision cleared. What he saw made his heart fall out of his chest with love but also stop at the same time due to fear.

There you were laying beside him. Your head resting on his chest right below his chin while his arms were securely enclosed around you, holding you in place. This felt so right for every reason that he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away. From the way your hair was a complete mess, to how your palm was placed above his heart

He tightened his grip involuntarily, getting the feeling that this was something he could get used to. But soon fear had made space in his mind, reminding him of all the reasons why he didn't deserve you.

And he believed every one of them.

So he allowed himself only a few minutes more before placing you back on the couch, his touch so gentle that you didn't so much as stir. He took a last look at you, leaning over to brush the stray hair away with a certain fondness.

"I'm sorry," he said, his face contorting his pain as he abruptly turned around, walking away once again.

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[hishumanbelle]

DESIRE.

Another year had passed and at the Hazbin Hotel they were preparing for New Year's Eve. The magic of Christmas had left its presence; the opened presents, the ruined and unwrapped boxes still under the tree in the living room, the decorations in sight and lights that seemed like intermittent sparkles. Everything was splendid. The other members of the hotel were happy and, for the first time, even serene despite the recent extermination that had left only chaos in the Infernal city, without forgetting the violent past between Angel and Valentino. Everything was silent, serenity had returned to reign. With those guys you practically felt at home. Charlie had become your best friend, you shared the same enthusiasm and undead positivity, but Vaggie didn't seem bothered by your bond. With Angel, on the other hand, just an exchange of spicy jokes was enough to enter his heart. You didn't share his passion for drugs, nor the fact that he was Valentino's subordinate, but you didn't consider him guilty, believing that he had his reasons for making such compromises; but he loved you very much, becoming brothers, always ready to confront each other and laugh like idiots, you knew you could count on each other. The Christmas week had passed TOO quickly. You helped Charlie as best you could, also having a certain "hobby" for setting up, so she accepted without pretensions, nor knowing well what to imagine. Those days were really hard for you, and together with Husk you renewed the look of the Hotel. The entrance was decorated with black walls with several glitters that, under the lights, looked like little shooting stars from the sky; the same thing on the ceiling, the flashes were magnificent. You replaced the chandeliers that were in the Hotel, too modern and… bland, with real chandeliers. At the entrance a golden chandelier but not very exuberant, ancient, decorated with drops. Moving forward, there was the rectangular portal that divided the entrance from the living room. You had painted the frame gold-like brass and in the corners you had placed a garland with lights and colored Christmas balls; the living room had been painted dark red, darker than burgundy, with a white ceiling and a gold-edged frame decorated with a nineteenth-century motif. You had arranged a tree over 2 meters tall in that room, near the central black fireplace, where you had decorated leaving some logs of wood to make it more real. Above the fireplace you had decorated again, placing antique gold and silver candlesticks with scented candles of cinnamon, gingerbread and apple, orange and vanilla mixed with Bourbon. Ah, those smells gave a whole other atmosphere. The tree was a real pine, which you had decorated with more than 5 thousand lights, making several turns on each branch and making it truly a forbidden sight for the others, which you only let them see after having finished the preparation.

You wanted Christmas to be magical for everyone, especially for the unluckiest ones who hadn't experienced one, Charlie included. She was born in Hell, you wanted her to feel its warmth at least once. You also brought an old gramophone to the living room with several Christmas jazz and pop records, some garlands and other lights to decorate the rest of the furniture. In the center, a splendid, very old chandelier, baroque, with a cascade of diamonds and decorated with bright gold on several levels; it stole the entire scene, so you decided to put a round carpet and a grand piano right under it, for anyone who wanted to play it with Christmas choirs and carols. Wow, everything was taking shape. The magic was starting to be felt. You went on for several hours before finishing the entire hotel and every room of each member, making the tree for each of them and touching up where necessary; except for Alastor's room, where you didn't dare enter, especially without his consent. As a final touch, under the Christmas tree, also decorated with different green, gold, gray, red, red and white balls, etc… you left 3 gifts underneath for each, also for Alastor. You left some more for Husk and Niffty who helped you with the preparations and the renovation and for the service of appetizers and drinks. Not content, you also put some Christmas boxes decorated with lights to make the atmosphere even more delightful! The guys had a lot of fun, the gifts were much appreciated and Charlie had even cried endlessly for all the work you had done. She found it splendid and gave you a long, incessant hug. Everyone's eyes seemed warmer and you could feel their hearts tighten for the love you made them feel, their laughter and smiles not forced but coming from the soul. Alastor, on the other hand, was sitting alone on the armchair in the corner, and he stared at you all evening holding the cup of coffee, Whisky or the newspaper in front of him to avoid being seen. Apparently, he really thought you were stupid, but he didn't know that you 'sensed' the feelings or emotions of others. A punishment for being too empathetic in your earthly life, but you were happy that this characteristic of yours hadn't changed in the Underworld. Alastor was acting strangely, his presence was more… 'cumbersome'. On Christmas Eve, after seeing that fabulous piano, he asked you to accompany him with a Christmas carol. For the duration of the song, you did nothing but look into each other's eyes, and in his expression there was something strange that you had never noticed. After the chorus, your cheeks reddened from the insistence of Alastor's gaze, but you blamed it on the alcohol, and your eyes wandered far away around the room. He got up from the stool, took your hand and gently brought it to his lips, leaving a delicate kiss, barely touching your skin. Bringing your hand down, he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something to you, but with a movement of his lips he smiled again and left. The following days, Alastor would suddenly appear and practically stick to you, but before you could ask him why, he had disappeared into the shadows. On New Year's Eve, you were in the kitchen preparing appetizers and traditional dishes for each culture belonging to the other members of the Hotel, as well as their favorite dishes, or at least… you tried. Alastor appeared behind you. His chest was pressing against your back, but you didn't turn around, also because you were unable to. Heavy shivers ran through your entire body. He stepped back slightly to allow you to turn around, his eyes shining and admiring the culinary masterpiece you were preparing. In his presence, you felt a tingling sensation pervade your body, making you nervous, perhaps due to the fact that you had to start preparing his favorite dish, but you didn't want to do it in his presence, so you asked him to leave. The smirk on his face changed into a look of doubt and disappointment, but Alastor accepted the request.

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You started cooking, but you didn't know that his shadow was spying on you. He ran from one corner to another, recording all your movements and features, above all, he studied your expressions. You didn't see him, but he saw you. He admired the lines that he so wanted to trace with his sharp fingers, the full, plump lips that he ardently wanted to kiss, he looked at your cheeks, curious to bite them as if they were the forbidden fruit that chased Lucifer from Heaven. And your hair that smelled of currants and musk, which was one of his favorite perfumes. Your long golden brown locks, that he so wanted to caress, intertwine his fingers, curl them. Alastor became serious again, incredulous of thinking in his mind of those ridiculous things. So, a few moments later, you heard his voice. "Why do you do this?", he asked with a hint of bitterness, incredulous at your effort and his to be close to you without 'ruining' you. "What a nuisance… Because I care about you like I do care about them", you replied. "Oh yeah. Me? Me who am the most evil overlord and was a ruthless serial killer on earthly life?", he paused. He came closer, taking your chin between his fingers so that you looked at him in the face. "How can you care about such a mean person capable of only doing harm? Maybe you are not so different from me, hm?". His words were heartbreaking, but they were true. How could you care about a being incapable of feeling love? Your eyes remained lost in his, your brain was trying to think of an answer, any answer, but nothing, his eyes were too far inside you, they dug inside you and gave you no way to think. He was right. Your body swayed beneath him, trembling, water filling your eyes. His grip became softer and his expression a more pronounced smirk. He abruptly removed his hand from your chin and, turning his back to you, walked away. It took you a moment to recover but, in your heart, you knew that no matter what Alastor would do, you would always be there for him. There was an interest in him. Despite everything. Despite him. Despite him not knowing it. Even if he was a murderer and a cannibal, you thought he had his reasons, that he must have been a victim before he was a perpetrator, and fate had punished him egregiously. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and get back to working on his dish, the Jambalaya, and there his hands rested possessively on your hips.

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"Deborah", he said in a deep voice. "Alastor", came out in a broken, singing voice. Tears had run down your cheeks, and he turned you, bringing his face close and kissing them away one by one. His thin lips were so soft. It was the first time he had come so close to you, so intimately. His tongue traced the path of your tears, erasing the pain he had caused you. It was salt on the wound he had inflicted, and those tears, after all, were for him. As a good sadist, he took pleasure perhaps in seeing expressions of pain on your face, they were nourishment for him. The blood boiled in your veins at the touch of his silky lips. Flames flared where his lips stopped. You could feel yourself burning. You tried to keep yourself under control and not to pant, even though you felt a desperate need to, your ribcage going crazy at the beating of your heart that was pounding it to the bone. "I've been an asshole", he whispered, looking at you and standing a few millimeters away from your face, bent and hunched over. "We're all used to it", a light smile echoed on his face. Then, he took your hands, twirled you around and guided you in preparing the Jambalaya. His closeness was overwhelming. Your hands touched and intertwined. He smiled and laughed genuinely, between one chat and another. Your movements were coordinated and any excuse was good to continue touching skin to skin, both of you unable to ignore that longing to want each other, but you thought it was just a way of provoking you. You had never seen him like this. Once the dish was finished, you looked at each other. Eyes languid and sparkling. You smiled at him, and he did the same. It was a long moment, almost eternal. Your eyes went down to his lips, tempted to want to lose yourself with him, in him. You were so intoxicated that he was oxygen to you. His fingers were still intertwined with yours and you were the first to remove them. A flash of lucidity pervaded your mind, your smile disappeared and your serious expression returned, your eyes that so longed to get lost and drown in his, returned to solid ground, looking elsewhere. Alastor also stiffened at your drastic change in mood. "We're done", you said in a detached voice, "thanks for helping", you said with your back turned to him. Alastor came closer to you again, standing to the side so he could access your personal space. "Thanks to you", he lowered himself slightly and his lips crashed onto your warm and soft cheek. "You. It's always been you…", he sneered, walking away without finishing.

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Niffty entered the kitchen while Alastor went out to help you with the rest of the New Year's Eve dinner, to set the table. A walnut table had been placed in the living room, a green, red and gold tablecloth was the master, on it there were atmospheric candelabras and candles, garlands with lights and small Christmas figures colored and made the table more festive. Niffty and you had set up the whole table, arranged the places and, with the sound of a bell, had gathered everyone for dinner! Of course, you had also thought of the fireworks that would surely have pleased the other sinners, and reminded them of life on earth. Everyone ran to their seats, Alastor had been placed near Husk and distant from you, but he asked to change places with Angel who would be sitting in front of you. The boy was not happy to accept, but he didn't dream of asking why, he simply accepted because Alastor was becoming creepy and his eyes were turning black. When they were all seated, Charlie demanded their attention by hitting the glass with her fork to celebrate the end-of-year and beginning-of-year speech. Once the toasts began, everyone started eating! The dishes were spectacular, spicy, colorful, you could feast your eyes on them! Everyone congratulated you and Niffty for your magnificent work. Meanwhile, Alastor kept his gaze on you. He himself stretched out a tentacle from under the table that reached you, rubbing itself on your waist and thighs. 'I need to put my hands on her, I have this strange need for her', thought Alastor, but he couldn't at that moment, nor would he have wanted to, because it would have meant taking you down with him, destroying you completely because of what he was, a monster. And he knew you would break trying to reciprocate his feelings, if you ever truly reciprocated. The thought fascinated him, but he hadn’t noticed that, as he thought it, he had started to growl and drool a few drops, while his tentacle had wrapped around your thigh and had even managed to enter the elastic of your skirt, rubbing against the red lace panties you were wearing. He could feel the heat and the wetness, and that was enough to drive him even further out of his mind.

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Sir Pentius nudged him to bring him back to normal, while you pressed and pushed, moving your hips towards his tentacle, without arousing suspicion, to get more movement and pleasure. Your cheeks were tinted light red, plump and velvety like a peach. Alastor stiffened because of the bulge that was growing in his pants. More and more swollen and hard for you. "I- I hav-", he almost panted. "I have to leave for a moment", he said trying to regain control of the situation and of himself. He teleported to the bathroom in the hall, forced the door open and threw himself in, slamming it and double-locking it. Everyone looked at each other and was shocked, having never seen him in that state. You remained suspended between pleasure and torment, the tentacle having vanished with Alastor. Your clothed and wet pussy was deprived of pleasure, spasming around nothing and slightly aching from the pain of the interruption. With one hand you fanned yourself because of the heat that was oppressing you. Alastor was banging his fists on the door violently that could be heard all the way to the living room. "Ahhh! She drives me crazy! She has to be mine, I want her to be mine!", he screamed between the walls of the bathroom. Impatient and mad, he pulled out his cock. A gasp escaped his lips and, for the first time, his smile faltered. His eyebrows furrowed and torment made its way onto his face, contaminating it. You had insinuated yourself too deeply inside him, and he couldn’t even explain why, or how it had happened. "Ah- D-Deborah, I have sinful thoughts about you, even worse when I’m without you". He brought one of his hands to his cock and began to move it up and down, his eyes fixed on his member and his hand shaking it, in disbelief of what he was doing and the reason that drove him to do it. You made him hungry like an animal. You made him strong but at the same time weak and vulnerable. Alastor’s emotions were at odds and he was truly losing his mind because of you, going haywire as his needs for you were more… carnal and spiritual, something he had never experienced in centuries. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, his hand faster and faster, his mind racing imagining that the pressure he was exerting was actually created by his doe's lips. "Ah—ah—", his breathing more labored. "D-Deb—", he stifled his moans with one hand, thinking back to having left you unsatisfied and interrupted your pleasure. Having abandoned that warm, never desecrated place that was supposed to be his alone, his sacred, immaculate temple. At the thought of having touched your lace panties, he felt like he was dying again, he had been close to Heaven even though he had never seen it.

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A shiver ran through his heart and his spine. Alastor tried to regain control and free himself from his erection, returning to sit at the table with the others. Sitting down, his eyes returned to you, still sitting in front of him. "Excuse me for my behavior, I was distracted", and everyone went back to toasting and eating. You looked down at your plate, never looking at Alastor, which did not please him. He returned to teasing you, his tentacle returned inside your skirt and pantyhose but remained outside of your thong, he wanted to be the one to enter you. Another gasp escaped his lips at the thought of possessing you from the inside, at the thought of his cock moving between your soft, inviting and warm walls, at the thought of filling you with his seed and possessing you completely, in a sacred and intimate way, of the self and of their deepest self. This thought consumed his mind. Should he distance himself from you? You were poisonous, dangerous. His mind was no longer safe, nor his heart. It made him an uncontrollable beast, and, even worse, he knew, because of his past as a murderer, that he could hurt you, but that was not what he wanted. As the days, weeks, months passed, Alastor had realized that he was developing some kind of feeling towards you. He didn't know what it was, but, naively, he thought it was control. A toy to possess and play with, he hadn't yet understood that, in reality, you already lived inside his chest in place of his heart. A heart that, if he thought about it, he would have given you without hesitation. Alastor realized, despite himself, that he was yours even before you were his, from the first moment, from the first day he saw you arrive at the Hotel and met your doe-like gaze, with your big amber eyes and your fluffy black and brown ears, freckles that gave color to your face and your lips, ah, those lips, that damned smile. Alastor felt pathetic thinking about all this when he was dead, even worse thinking about being one of the strongest Overlords. He felt human again, but then you looked up and looked at him, and his mind completely clouded. He went back to you, to that electricity you two felt for each other even if you weren't touching, but even a blind man could have realized that you were mutual magnets and that anyone could feel your belonging, except yourselves. The intensity was so strong that his erection and your excitement turned you on again. Alastor's tentacle, never out of your skirt, resumed rubbing and circling at your entrance and pressing delicately on your clit, and with another tentacle he rubbed on your protuberance, unable to hold back with what he felt of you, with the expressions he was intoxicated by of yours. Your mind was becoming more and more clouded, your eyes were starting to tremble and go back in your skull, your lips were tightening to avoid panting in front of everyone. Alastor was hugging the table, resting his elbows and hunching his shoulders. His eyes fixed on your face, which had become his favorite portrait. He wanted to be close to you, to be able to feel you, to feel the electricity that was raising your skin, to feel you shivers, to feel your velvety skin. He wanted more. He wanted everything. He wanted YOU, you as only a murderous cannibal can want: completely. Totally. Greedily. In control under him. He wanted to see you damn for him, come for him and him alone, know that he was the only one like you were the only one who made him feel this way.

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Alastor began to think that you were his hellish sentence. Your name came out and hung on his lips like a prayer and he thought that somehow, saying it, could save him from the end of himself. Alastor wanted to consume you, he wanted to eat you, but not with his teeth, with his heart, his soul. He wanted to taste you, eating you with kisses, making your tongues dance in each other’s mouths, he wanted to savor every inch of your skin and he wanted to know your taste, sliding inside you with his tongue and licking you from the inside, where no one else would ever enter except him. You were his precious treasure, but only he was the key, and the two of you guarded each other. "Ah, f—", he sighed, his pre-cum dripping from his tip as he thought, imagined, and as he felt your wet through your panties. The stain barely stained his pants since there was a layer of underwear in between that acted as a divider. He soon realized that he couldn't continue, otherwise the situation would end worse and he couldn't go around with stained pants, nor lose control over the orgasm he would feel, convinced that he couldn't hold it back since he hadn't felt one for over 100 years, even before he died. Yes, Alastor indulged in the carnal act only once, out of curiosity and it was during his adolescence. The problems and the family situation had shifted his focus and interest elsewhere, into murder and cannibalism. He didn't have time for that nonsense, he thought. And now that he was dead, he found himself overwhelmed by these sensations. He had never felt the need to feel burned for a person before, but you were different, you had something special that captured him, he felt your effect completely as in a love spell; instead it was you, your essence and your genuine goodness, your interest in music and technology, your modern charm in contrast with your vintage essence, your being a pianist and saxophonist, as well as a singer. Alastor began to think that you had been created especially for him, and had to be his only. You had ended up in hell for a reason, for him, otherwise he couldn't explain how you could be in that horrible place that was not at all in keeping with your external and internal elegance. You jumped up from your chair and ran to the bathroom. The guys looked at each other, Alastor did too, so as not to arouse suspicion. "What's wrong with her?", he asked Charlie, but Charlie just shook her head not knowing what to answer. "I'll go check", she said. Alastor was about to interrupt her to propose himself, but he realized that he wasn't suitable for the general situation. He nodded in her direction and gave her a fleeting glance, sending his shadow to check. You were locked in the bathroom and crying, completely desperate for the situation and for what Alastor was doing. You thought he was making fun of you because you was naive and had just been in Hell, but, above all, because you didn’t know what to think of him. Everyone, from day one, warned you about him and how cruel and ruthless he was and how he treated others. Only to the members of the hotel he didn’t do anything because they were under Charlie’s wing, but maybe with you, it was different, because you had just been in Hell and no one cared about your safety. What made you feel worse were your feelings for him. You found Alastor charming, charismatic, intelligent, interesting. His appearance was wonderful, that silhouette of his and his narrow waist, his ears soft like yours and his eyes… those red eyes were your torture.

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You imagined them around you, you searched desperately for them in the city when he wasn’t there, you demanded them on you… "ah—", you sighed in the bathroom with a hand over your mouth so as not to be heard. "A-ah-Alast—", his name escaped your lips as you touched your clit with your fingers, pressing them over your lace panties. You wanted to keep the desire to feel him inside, you wanted him to really do it, so you stayed on the surface. The heat grew stronger and stronger and your legs began to tremble, with your abdomen also starting to spasm. Your orgasm was overwhelming you and you couldn’t help but say his name like a prayer. Alastor was there, somehow, and he could hear you. The grin he made was indescribable, a smile of satisfaction. "Impatient girl", he said with a sigh, "you will be punished for not having thought of me too". Charlie knocked on the bathroom door, "Debh, it’s Charlie, are you okay? I heard you crying", she said worried. "Charlie, yes, I’m fine… I’m coming, give me a minute". You quickly got up and dried yourself and washed, also fixing your hair and clothes, you also had some perfume with you that didn’t hesitate to use, then you left the room, "here I am". Charlie hugged you, "shall we go back?", and you went back to the table. Alastor got up and went to Vaggie who was sitting on the other side of you and asked her to change places and Charlie looked at her urging her to accept, since they would spend the night together anyway. The two changed places and your heart began to beat hard in your chest, to the point that you thought it would come out of your rib cage. Alastor turned to you, "are you okay, my doe?", he asked in a deep and warm voice. "Y-yes, thank you", you answered in a faint and thin voice, almost a sigh. Alastor’s hands fell on his lap and he twiddled his thumbs, to pretend to be normal; then, unexpectedly for you, he moved his hand to your thigh. His grip was strong and his claws pinched your flesh; initially he remained on the outside, then, seeing that you reacted in the way he expected, he moved to your inner thigh. Shivers ran along your bodies, Alastor could feel your thighs tighten around his hand, the heat you gave off that radiated and penetrated inside his body, his bones. The two of you exchanged a few words in the meantime, and, once dinner was over, you got up to go to the bar as it was still early to celebrate. You talked, discovered each other. The intensity of Alastor’s gaze scared you, it seemed like he could read your soul, those rubies… Alastor raised his elbow and drank several glasses, becoming tipsy, he walked around the room and returned to you with mistletoe between his horns; he looked at you, smiling and winking, and approached you again. With his hands he took your face between his fingers and brought his lips close to yours. "Don’t move, I want to try something", he sighed. The words were a gentle caress on your lips and Alastor moved closer and closer, his mouth crashing into yours very softly, as if you were a fragile creature capable of breaking and he was your guardian who only wanted to protect you. "Deborah, Deborah, Deborah… you drive me crazy. You kill me. I love you. God, I love you. With you it's like being between Heaven and Hell, you're my tempting Devil", your noses rubbed and your foreheads were against each other; while Alastor spoke, Whiskey's warm and smelling breath ended up directly in your face. You didn't know what to believe, what to think. Those words made your heart skip a beat, but you thought it was just the alcohol… so you didn't give it much weight. Alastor stared at you again, as if you could disappear from under his hands at any moment and devoured you again with a more intimate and ferocious kiss. Kissing you he realized that it was that hunger that consumed him so much, the need and necessity to be close to you, forever.

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His tongue explored your mouth looking for you to join in a dance of a still unknown feeling that united you: love. No. Something much stronger than love: desire. Both wanted to live each other to the point of feeling each other to the bone, you needed to feel each other under the skin, to tear it with the bites of your mutual hunger of longing. The flame that nourished him was the same that nourished you, the two had found each other and fallen in love from the first moment, like the sudden and atrocious fall of lightning. The other guys approached the bar and the two of you separated, too mature to be seen in that condition. Alastor was exasperated, and the more he looked at you, the more he didn't know what to do with you. Lucifer approached you to exchange a few words, your mutual company was pleasant and you found many topics in common to share, he said he found you interesting and inspiring for many of his works. But Alastor, oh Alastor, was very jealous of what was happening. Your attention had shifted completely to Lucifer who continued to look at you with languid eyes and to talk incessantly, and you laughed amusedly. The sound of your laughter had to be something forbidden to others, Alastor thought, wanting to keep every emotion of yours completely his. He had to be the mirror and reflection of your emotions, which he wanted to be only yours. Only his company had to and could fill your life. The agony was so much… too much… "go away", Alastor said bitterly in a low growling voice. "Leave her alone, go away", his gaze completely hidden by his red tuft, his ears were flattened back. Lucifer looked at him bored, "don’t give me orders, I’m your king". Alastor threw himself on his neck and started to strangle him. "Go away I said!!!", and you intervened to separate them. "Alastor, stop! Please, stop! He’s not doing anything wrong. I understand, you want to talk to me… leave him and let’s go talk. Please", you said in a shocked voice, touching Alastor on the cheeks. Your eyes begged him and he gave in. Lucifer fell to the ground and coughed loudly, "piece of shit! Be thankful that you are a dear friend of Charlie and Deborah, otherwise you would have already died", he shouted angrily, and Alastor hissed back. You grabbed Alastor’s hand and rushed him to his room. "What the hell is wrong with you?!", you shouted in exasperation. "You can’t make fun of people like that and believe that they are all in your presence or do whatever you want to them. We all have feelings, including you apparently. If you need to talk, you know that we are here for you, we are your family", Alastor turned his head to the side, his expression frowning because, due to his earthly traumas, he couldn’t really believe those words. "Talk to me… or to us. Just... talk", you said looking him sadly. Alastor turned to you, "I’m not good with words, I don’t want to show weakness", he said, advancing towards you. With one hand he twisted his fingers in your curls, inhaling your scent. "You’re so good for me", he said closing his eyes. His body pressed against yours and he pushed you onto the bed so that you lay under him, with his hands he blocked your wrists and with his tentacles he blocked your legs, keeping them open. "Mine. I want you to be mine", he said, gripped by feelings, his eyes completely black and blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. Alastor opened his pants and pulled out his cock that was already hard, "and to think that I’m not even in heat. This is YOU who has this effect on me", his free hand moved to your hair, pulling it back to expose your neck. "Only YOU have this power over me", he said as he licked and sucked your neck, but he wanted more, he wanted to 'taste' you and, without asking, his sharp teeth pierced and penetrated your flesh and Alastor was struck by a sweet frenzy.

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He continued to suck while the blood gushed out copiously, you were hypnotized by the pain and pleasure of that scene, making sweet moans escape from your lips that allowed Alastor to become even more excited. With one hand he tore your clothes and with the other he took his cock in his hand, rubbing it towards your slit and pressing it against your clit. "Alastor, no, stop. You're not in the right condition, please", you began to cry, but Alastor didn't stop; on the contrary, he thought that in this way your body would belong to him forever and that no one would ever come near you because of this. He continued to rub and press it, your clit was already responding to the electric spasms that he caused. "Ah-Alastor, stop!", you screamed and cried, scared of him and not believing him capable of doing such a thing. Alastor looked into your eyes, and saw only an expression of fear and humiliation, his daily bread. His hips began to thrust, but he didn't enter right away, he entered with the tip first, slowly in and out of your pussy. Alastor gasped, "mine, mine, you are only mine, no one else's. And I'm going to rape you", his hips pushed harder, pushing his entire cock inside. You screamed in pain and tears continued to flow down your face. Alastor fed on those expressions, with one hand he gripped your hair while his entire body pressed against yours, his face brushed against yours and he kissed you where the tears landed. His hips thrust harder and faster, his cock rubbing between your spongy, puckered walls, as it swelled as you approached orgasm. His thrusts pressed against your cervix, making you let out a few gasps that you tended to cover with your now free hand out of embarrassment. "Don’t you dare", he hissed, moving your hand away. "I want to feel you. I want to see you cum", Alastor said as he moved his fingers away and began fingering your clit. "Ah-Deb—", he panted, growling, "don’t squeeze like that, DON’T SQUEEZE LIKE THAT!", he said as your pussy tightened around his cock as he felt you getting wetter and tightened, your body a single trembling spasm, your breathing more and more frantic as your heart was pounding. "Alastor, stop! I don't want to—", you said, crying and throwing your head back from the strong intensity, Alastor immediately took advantage of this to tighten his hand around your neck and his orgasm followed yours, his hips thrusting harder and faster until he reached your most sacred spot, and his seed spurted, filling your womb deep inside, even though you didn’t want it. You two looked at each other and Alastor remained inside you to enjoy the sensation, his face came closer to yours, "tell me you understand that you are mine", he whispered to your ear. "I do", and the tears returned. "I have always been yours, since we first saw each other. I have always wanted you and imagined you this way, I could fall in love with you, there was no need for you to go that far. You humiliated me and took away the thing which I treasured. You are a bastard!", you said screaming and starting to tap on him. Alastor was mortified, he did not imagine this reaction and that you could fall in love with him. He looked at you with fear, not being ready to lose you, and realizing that he has ruined your first time and your relationship, maybe forever.

[reallyromealone]

SOULMATES PART 2

WARNINGS: MALE READER, OMEGAVERSE, SMOOCHING

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

(name) was bleary as he was brought to a place that seemed like an endless castle, set on a soft bed as Muzan crouched beside him "you will live here now, you're my omega and I have expectations of you"

(Name) let the Alpha change his clothes into more elegant sleep clothes, his hands colder than the lake water "you're human so what you experienced would be rather traumatic on your body, sleep" Muzan said bluntly, never leaving room for discussion "we will discuss this when you wake"

(Name) was too exhausted to argue, body betraying him as it relaxed into the bed, the blankets and sheets soft on his skin.

Muzan knew it would be inevitable for them both to grow attached to one another, the bond of being soulmates would make it impossible otherwise, he just had to be patient.

(Name) slept for nearly three days, monitored by Muzan as he slept through his body recovering, now that he was near his alpha his body was becoming healthier.

He was pleased his mate was a sibling of a pillar, having something against them would be helpful indeed.

(Name) subconsciously moved closer to the scent of spices and bourbon, a strong hand caressing his face "I know you're awake, I can hear your heartbeat" Muzan said as (name) cracked his eyelids open "hello Omega"

"...are you going to kill me?" (Name) asked softly as he was lifted into a sitting position, Muzan surprisingly gentle with the Omega "it would be counter productive to kill you" Muzan said simply as he cleaned any sweat from the omegas face "you're my soulmate, if you die then I die and if either of us die, its said to feel worse than death for both parties"

"Where am I?"

"The infinity castle, my domain" Muzan had no right having such a smooth voice, eyes burning into him "don't leave the areas permitted, you will fall to your death if you do so"

"I-I see"

"I suppose we should talk about expectations" Muzan said formally, eyes unblinking as he stared down his Omega.

(Name) can't believe it got to this point, he was mates with the man responsible for killing those he cared for dearly... But his Omega preened under the attention from the Alpha, happy to have his eyes on him.

"Don't interrupt me while I work" Muzan started "stay out of the way"

"And I will kill whomever it is if you commit adultery before your eyes"

"I have some demands as well" (name) said pushing up that Shinobi strength, if he was going to be trapped here... Might as well lay down what he wants as well. Muzan raised an eyebrow but didn't speak "I want nesting materials, my omega likes your scent..." (Name)s voice was barely above a whisper as Muzan kept quiet "a-and I enjoy (hobby) and reading... If you want me out of your way, could I at least have something to do?"

"And I want to be the only Omega"

"Those things can be arrainged, the bond doesn't allow me to hold interest in anyone else"

"And... Would I ever be able to see my brother again?"

"Absolutely not"

(Name)s heart sunk at this, the realization that he would never see his loved ones again "could... I at least... Could I have a photograph of him?"

Muzans face was cold but his instincts made it hard to resist such a simple request "I can have one of my minions retrieve one" standing up he immediately went to leave, halting at the chirp that escaped (name)s lips, the Omega covering his mouth as soon as it came out.

Muzan pretended like his alpha didn't lose it over that sound and left.

(Name) awoke to the room filled with supplies for his hobbies and piles of books and nesting materials of the highest quality one could seak.

"This must have cost a fortune..." (Name) said softly, taking notice of expensive looking clothing boxes "I won't allow my mate to dress like garbage" Muzan said bluntly as he watched (name) open the top box, revealing an expensive looking yukata.

Muzan was definitely using items to remove any thoughts of defying him, wanting the Omega to be devoted and obedient to him as an obedient Omega is a less annoying Omega.

(Name) was already looking healthier, Muzan having made Daki get food for the Omega, something that made the woman bloodthirsty with rage.

She was doing tasks for a human!

This was far beneath her!

Though she would never ever do or say anything, he respect for her lord was far to high.

Currently her and her brother have managed to get a photo of a demon Slayer, the sibling of Lord Kibutsuji's Omega.

None of the moons have seen this Omega yet, their lord having kept him locked away from prying eyes and Doma as a concept.

Which fair.

She wouldn't want her mate near him either.

(Name) craved to see outside, missing the warmth of the sun under his skin.

(Name) was just thankful Muzan remembered that humans have needs like food and the restroom.

Muzan hadn't touched (name) since they got here, speaking to him when he woke and when he was going to bed.

The conversations weren't much, (name) mainly asking questions and getting short and simple answers.

He missed his family and the slayer's, before his soulmate he hoped he would possibly be soulmates with Rengoku....

(Name) crushed those thoughts, accepting his fate of being locked away in this maze of a castle with a mate who wouldn't touch him or look at him long....

Tengen was a mess.

His baby brother ripped from him "god knows what fate he's enduring..." (Name) was strong, he also came from the upbringing the white haired man had but he was no slayer....

"Muzan won't hurt him" Shinobi said simply as she stared at the distressed alpha "if he hurt him, he would receive the same pain"

That surprisingly did help him, knowing his brother couldn't be harmed.

"I need to get him back"

(Name) hummed softly as he worked on his hobby, distracting himself as the lights of the candles casted a warm glow on him.

Muzan didn't bother changing to his original form, wandering to his mates room in his female appearance and staring at the omega who looked so focused on what he was doing.

"Hello?" (Name) looked confused at him, a woman who reeked of his alpha and Muzan could smell... Jealousy? Interesting.

"What are you doing?" Muzan asked in his usual tone and watched his Omega calm down and assess what was before him "you're a pretty woman alpha" he commented, not even joking... Just an observation.

Muzan kept a neutral expression and stepped towards his mate, the Omega initiating contact by taking the demons clawed hand and having him sit beside him "I'm almost done..." (Name) said softly, showing him the project and explaining the process.

Muzan knew all of this already, having lived so long he's seen it all but he let the Omega explain his passion and the demon Lord found he enjoyed seeing his mate so dedicated to something.

"I will be working late" was all Muzan said before standing, the Omega grabbing onto the sleeve to the alphas yukata with a whine, clearly touch starved.

Muzan knew omegas were needy creatures and sighed.

(Name) yelped as he was lifted by his alpha, still in female form but none the less a force to fear.

(Name) hesitantly rested his head on the others chest, finding it to be soft and comfortable as the demon walked down the endless halls till they reached a room, a floor desk and many books scattered around "this is a part of my lab, you aren't to go into the other rooms, it's dangerous for a human like you" and if (name) gets hurt, that could be bad for Muzan.

Muzan set (name) in his lap and began working, the Omega subconsciously purring as he got to be close to his mate, his Omega forcing him to crave the touch and attention of the demon and (name) slowly gave up resisting.

Muzan let (name) play with a lock of hair around his face, focused on his work.

Then he felt warm lips against his cheek, eyes widening as he glanced at (name) who snuggled into him, body slowly slumping and Muzan adjusted him so his head rested on the others thighs and listened as the others breathing and heartbeat slowed down, the Omega falling asleep.

Muzan continued his work as his fingers gently raked at the nape of (name)s neck, close to his scent gland.

After that Muzan was more willing with contact, the two spending time reading with (name) in his lap or close to one another and though Muzan was still as chatty as usual it didn't matter as like his brother, (name) could converse for hours.

Muzan usually would have killed anyone who spoke this much but the Alpha found himself enjoying the sound of the omegas voice, their heartbeat... Muzan realized he was in love with the human.

His mate.

His soulmate.

Past Muzan would have been appalled at what he was doing, the demon gripping (name)s neck and jaw and pulling him into a demanding kiss, the Omega squeaking slightly and clinging to his suit but reciprocating the kiss.

(Name)s lips were sweet and warm, unlike Muzan having a firm grip the Omega gently cupped his jaw with his hands, thumbs gently rubbed his cheeks as he turned to straddle his lap and move the kiss into a slower pace.

Muzan was surprised he let the Omega do that.

He wouldn't ever admit it but he would let the Omega get away with a fair bit.

"My heats... It's soon" (name) said softly as they parted, (name)s head foggy from the kiss as Muzan gently pecked at his lips "will... Will you join me?"

"Of course, I am your alpha am I not?"

(Name) smiled and let the Alpha steal his lips once more.

[fireside-fanfics]

Anchored in You

The beach house was a modest, sun-bleached structure tucked into the dunes of a forgotten coastline. It was just far enough off the beaten path to avoid prying eyes but close enough to civilization to restock on whiskey and fresh vegetables—the essentials. Dylan, or Squints as the guys had lovingly dubbed her, stood at the edge of the porch, squinting out at the horizon as the sun dipped low, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson.

"You keep that up, Squints, and your face might stick that way," Benny’s teasing voice called from behind her. She flipped him off without turning around, her lips twitching into a grin.

The team had been through hell and back, their last mission leaving them battered, both physically and emotionally. Pope had suggested the beach house as a temporary hideout—a place to recover, regroup, and figure out their next move. Dylan had been skeptical. She wasn’t used to staying still for too long, but the ocean air had a way of softening her edges; and for once, she didn’t feel the usual itch to move on.

She glanced back at Benny, his broad shoulders outlined against the fading sunlight. They’d been inseparable since basic training, where their rivalry over who could run faster, climb higher, or cuss louder had blossomed into an unshakable bond. Benny always said she’d been the only one who could keep up with him, and with a smirk, Dylan would always say, "Damn right."

Inside, Frankie was making an absolute mess of the kitchen. The scent of burnt garlic wafted through the open windows as he swore under his breath. "For fuck’s sake, who puts the olive oil next to the vinegar?"

"A chef with better instincts than you," Dylan quipped as she stepped inside. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching him struggle with a pan. "Need a hand, Fish?"

Frankie shot her a glare but handed her the wooden spoon. "Just don’t ruin it more than I already have."

She moved effortlessly, her years of fending for herself evident in the way she rescued the scorched meal. Frankie huffed but couldn’t hide his appreciation. "Alright, fine. You’re better at this than I am. Don’t let it go to your head."

The other guys trickled into the kitchen one by one, drawn by the promise of food. Santiago slid onto a stool at the island, watching Dylan with a keen eye.

"You’re good at this," he said, his tone casual but laced with something deeper.

"Survival skill," she replied, not looking up from the pan. "Can’t exactly live off MREs forever."

The familiarity between her and each of the men was palpable. Dylan had met Frankie first (after Benny) when she’d been roped into a mission gone sideways in Colombia. He’d been the frazzled pilot, trying to keep them airborne while she patched up a bullet hole in the fuselage. They’d clicked instantly, both sarcastic and quick-witted, and Frankie had vouched for her when Pope came sniffing around for recruits.

Santiago had been next, a chance encounter during a chaotic extraction in Brazil. He’d underestimated her at first, mistaking her tomboy demeanor for inexperience. She’d quickly proven him wrong, hauling him out of a firefight when his leg was shredded by shrapnel. "You’re either insane or a saint," he’d said later, and she’d shrugged. "Probably both."

Will had been the hardest to win over, his stoic nature making him tough to read; yet Dylan’s no-nonsense attitude had eventually earned his respect. They’d bonded over a shared commitment to the team, and his quiet loyalty reminded her of a brother she’d never had.

And then there was Tom. Dylan had met him at a dive bar in New Orleans, of all places. He’d been drowning his sorrows in whiskey, and she’d been waiting on a contact who never showed. When a brawl broke out, Dylan ended up elbowing a guy off Tom, who’d been too drunk to defend himself.

"You fight dirty," he’d said later, nursing a split lip.

"So do you," she’d shot back, smirking.

They’d shared a bottle of cheap bourbon that night, and by sunrise, Tom had invited her to join a job he was planning. She’d turned him down—for the time being—but they stayed in touch. When Pope eventually brought Tom onto the team, Dylan wasn’t the least bit surprised.

Dinner was a rowdy affair, filled with laughter and bickering. Afterward, they all drifted to the living room, where a tattered deck of cards and half-empty glasses of whiskey waited. Dylan plopped onto the worn couch next to Benny, her legs tucked underneath her. They played poker for a while, the stakes ranging from washing dishes to divulging embarrassing stories. Benny, of course, lost spectacularly.

"Alright, Squints," Benny said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. "What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?"

Dylan’s eyes narrowed as she squinted at him. The room erupted into laughter before she even opened her mouth.

"Fine," she said, leaning back with a smirk. "I’ll give you this one. In high school, I thought I’d impress everyone by scaling the rope climb faster than anyone else. Made it to the top, all proud of myself, and then realized I was stuck—like, absolutely frozen."

Benny howled with laughter, nearly spilling his drink. "You? Stuck? Impossible."

"Swear to God," Dylan said, grinning. "Had to have the visiting drill sergeant talk me down like a fucking cat stuck in a tree."

The night wore on, and the team began to scatter. Will and Frankie called it quits first, heading off to their respective rooms. Santiago lingered for a while, nursing his drink and watching the waves through the window. Benny and Dylan were the last two left, the quiet hum of the ocean filling the space between them.

"You’re holding out on us," Benny said, breaking the silence. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her. "You’ve got a million stories more embarrassing and more personal than the one you told tonight, but you only ever give the guys the funny ones—the easy ones. They can handle the hard stuff just as much as I can, Squints."

Dylan shrugged, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Maybe I like keeping you guessing."

"Or maybe you’re scared we’ll all see the real you," he shot back, his voice softer now.

Her eyes met his, the challenge in them undeniable. "And what would you do if you did see the real me?"

He didn’t answer right away, his expression shifting to something unreadable. "I know you, Dylan. I know the real you and I think she’s a fuckin catch."

The words hung in the air, heavier than she’d expected. For a moment, she considered deflecting, turning the conversation back to safer ground. Yet there was something about Benny’s gaze—steady, unflinching—that made her hesitate.

"Alright, Benny," she said finally, her voice low. She smiled at him before leaning into his side. "There’s not much you don’t know, but if you stick around, I might tell you my most embarrassing story from high school."

He grinned, the tension breaking just enough to feel manageable. "Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, doll."

The tide rolled in, the waves crashing against the shore as the two sat in companionable silence. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was more than enough. Her heart swelled with love from Benny’s comment. He was her saving grace, he was her only family left. Lord knows what would’ve happened to her if she hadn’t clicked with the blue eyed boy as scrawny teen in basic training.

Dylan glanced out the window, her mind wandering. Growing up as a CODA—child of deaf adults—she’d learned to navigate two worlds. She spoke fluent ASL, her hands as expressive as her words, and her Spanish was just as sharp, a gift from her Cuban mother’s family. It made her invaluable on missions, but more than that, it shaped who she was: adaptable, observant, and fiercely loyal to those who mattered most. And right now, her world was here, with this mismatched chosen family of hers, piecing the boys back together one day at a time.

As the days passed, the group found a rhythm. Morning runs along the shore became a tradition, with Benny and Dylan always vying for the lead. The others laughed at their competitive banter but couldn’t deny the way they seemed drawn to each other, as if some invisible force kept pulling them closer.

One afternoon, Frankie and Santiago sat on the porch, watching Benny and Dylan haul in a fishing net they’d borrowed from a local. They worked in perfect sync, their movements fluid and effortless.

"You notice how those two are always in sync?" Frankie asked, tipping his beer toward the pair.

Santiago smirked when he said, "You’d have to be blind not to. They’re like magnets ... can’t stay apart for too long."

Inside, Will was prepping dinner, glancing occasionally through the window.

"They’ve always been like that," the eldest Miller said, his voice steady as he called from the kitchen, "but something’s different now." He took a swig of his beer. "It feels ... heavier."

Frankie raised an eyebrow. "Heavier how?"

Will shrugged. "Like they’re figuring something out, but they’re both too stubborn to say it out loud."

Out on the beach, Dylan and Benny finally hauled the net onto the sand, both of them laughing breathlessly. Benny glanced over at her, his grin fading slightly as his eyes lingered. She caught the look and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s just—you’re pretty damn good at this, ya know, Squints?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. "Don’t act so surprised, Miller."

Their easy banter was as natural as breathing, but beneath it was a tension neither of them knew how to address. As the sun dipped below the horizon once more, the rest of the team watched from a distance, exchanging knowing looks.

"Those two are gonna combust if they don’t figure it out soon," Frankie muttered, shaking his head.

Santiago chuckled. "Place your bets, boys. Who breaks first?"

Will smirked, his gaze steady. "My money’s on Benny."

The others laughed, but deep down, they all knew it wasn’t a matter of if—it was a matter of when. Will knew his baby brother was held over heels for Dylan and there was no way Benny would be able to deny himself of her any longer.

That evening, as twilight painted the sky in soft purples and blues, Dylan wandered down to the shoreline. The sand was cool beneath her feet, and the rhythmic crash of waves filled the air. She settled onto a driftwood log, her elbows resting on her knees as she stared out at the endless expanse of water.

She didn’t hear Benny approach at first, but the soft crunch of sand under heavy boots gave him away before he spoke. Without looking, Dylan patted the empty spot next to her on the blanket, silently making room for him.

Benny settled beside her with a quiet grunt, close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating off his body despite the cooling evening air. For a moment, neither of them said a word, letting the soothing rhythm of the waves fill the space between them.

"You always disappear when it’s quiet," Benny said finally, his voice low and steady.

Dylan tilted her head toward him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "And you always follow me so what’s your point?"

He huffed a soft laugh, brushing sand off his palms. "Maybe I like the peace and quiet too."

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at him sidelong. "You? Mr. Life of the Party? Since when?"

"Since now," he shot back, his tone lighter as his expression softened as his gaze drifted to the horizon. "It’s been a long road, Squints. Peace is hard to come by so I’ll take it with you whenever I get the chance."

She nodded, her eyes tracing the gentle ripples of the ocean. "Yeah. It is, Benny."

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the occasional call of a seagull or distant crash of waves the only sounds around them. Dylan’s thoughts wandered, her guard slipping in the quiet. Benny had always had that effect on her—a rare ability to make her feel both at ease and completely unmoored at the same time.

"Do you ever think about what it would’ve been like if we hadn’t met in basic?" she asked softly, her voice nearly lost in the whisper of the wind.

Benny glanced at her, his brow furrowing slightly. "I don’t like to think about it."

"Why not?" Dylan asked, staring up at him as her bangs blew in the wind.

"Because it wouldn’t have been better," he said simply, his voice resolute. "You’ve been with me through everything, Squints. Every high, every low. I can’t picture any of it without you."

Her heart gave a little lurch at the sincerity in his tone. She studied him for a moment, her squint returning as if she were trying to decipher the depths of what he wasn’t saying.

"You mean that, huh?" she said, her voice quieter now.

He met her gaze, his blue eyes steady and unflinching. "Every word."

Dylan’s breath caught in her chest. She looked away quickly, focusing on the waves as her mind scrambled to process the weight of his words. Benny was her best friend, her partner in crime, her constant. She’d always known that. But there was something about the way he was looking at her now, the way his voice softened when he said her name, that made her wonder if she’d been blind to something more.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," Benny continued, his voice breaking through her thoughts, "and I’m tired of pretending like I don’t want to do life without you. Like I’m not in fuckin love you."

She turned to him sharply, her heart thundering in her chest. "Benny—"

"I mean it, Dylan," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "You’re everything to me. Always have been, always will be."

Her throat tightened, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at him, her mind reeling. She’d spent so long burying her feelings, convincing herself that what they had was enough. But now, sitting here with the man who knew her better than anyone, she couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

"Benny..." she began again, her voice trembling. "I don’t know if I’m any good at this—at letting someone in like that."

He smiled, the kind of smile that made her chest ache. "You don’t have to be. We’ll figure it out together."

The simplicity of his words—the unwavering certainty in them—was her undoing. She let out a shaky breath, her defenses crumbling as she reached out, her hand finding his.

"I’m scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

He laced his fingers through hers, his grip warm and steady. "Me too, but I’d rather be scared with you than without you."

The vulnerability in his voice cracked something open in her, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek before she could stop it. She laughed softly, shaking her head.

"Damn it, Benny." Dylan laughed. "You’re making me all sappy."

"Guess I’m rubbing off on you." He grinned, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

"You’re insufferable, you know that?" Dylan smiled, leaning into him slightly as she wiped her eyes with her free hand.

"And you love it," he teased, though there was a quiet hopefulness in his voice.

She looked up at him then, her eyes searching his face.

"Yeah," she said softly, her voice steady now. "I do. I love you, Benny."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then Benny leaned in, his forehead resting gently against hers. The ocean roared in the background, a steady reminder of the vastness of the world. But in that moment, all Dylan could feel was him—his warmth, his steadiness, his unshakable presence.

They stayed like that until the stars came out, the weight of unspoken words finally lifted. As they sat there, hand in hand, Dylan realized that maybe, just maybe, peace wasn’t so hard to come by after all—not when Benny was by her side.