[fic] Posturing
Title: Posturing
Author: badboy_fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Elena POV; Damon/Elena
Word Count: ~1000
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 (post-switch flipping sex)
Spoilers: Everything through 4x15.
Summary: She only fools Damon for so long.
Author's notes: This is supposed to be in the same universe as upupa_epops's Forgetting and my other piece Remembering. But that's only if Marta thinks this works. We tend to be at odds in fic writing from time to time. :P Also, Marta, if this does work for you, maybe you should write Damon's POV? I mean, I KNOW WHAT HE'S THINKING, BUT DO YOU? ;-)
She only fools Damon for so long.
(She only fools herself for a little longer.)
It's probably because she keeps having sex with him. At first, he's mechanical and accommodating, but then he starts being sweet and tender, and that distant feeling in her brain starts to shrink.
(The only time it had been really vast was when she dropped the match in her living room, anyway.)
She has a moment of clarity to clarify all her moments of crystal clearness: she should never have slept with Damon Salvatore. This is something she'd known when she was human, and something she never would have done (except maybe once), but the truth is, it was kind of addictive.
His touch, his mouth, his worship. When she turned everything off, that was what she could feel with no worries. Damon, inside her. Damon, under her, on top of her, resisting her, but succumbing anyway.
Maybe if he'd just kept doing that, she would have been fine. But he eventually got over himself, and just started loving her again. He left his broken heart somewhere behind them, and she couldn't pretend that didn't bother her.
The truth is, if he cried after they fucked, or if his anger was overwhelming as he thrust into her, or if he closed his eyes so tight he didn't have to see her blank expression, she could feed off that. She didn't have to have her own emotions; Damon had plenty to go around.
(This had been the way it was before, when she was human, too. Damon, loving enough for both of them.)
He never says anything, though.
Of course.
Because now? Now, Damon is subservient in a way he never could have been before. Now, he's certain he has forever with her, and he can wait until she "turns it back on," or admits that even when it was off, it wasn't exactly off.
Because she's like Damon. And she knows. She met him on a dark road, and he wished her well. If that was Damon with his switch flipped, what could she hope to be like?
(Someone might catch her kicking a puppy. Maybe.)
(Okay, so she ate a few people in inappropriate circumstances, but she hadn't killed anyone. Or hadn't killed them all the way. Someone was always there--Caroline, Stefan, Damon--to administer vampire blood and compel them to forget.)
Her hand is clenched in his hair and his mouth is shiny as he lifts his head from between her legs when she finally asks him. "What was it like when your switch was flipped?"
He's cagey, but still honest, because he's Damon. "Not this good," he smirks, dragging his hand across his lips. He totally eye-fucks her while he licks his palm, and need erupts under her skin all over again. "You taste...satisfied," he murmurs.
See, before, she wanted Damon, but she could control it. That's why she had managed to know him for nearly two years before she gave in. Now, this is the place where all hell breaks loose. They go in his room, he shuts the door, and she loses hours. But they are all so pleasurable (either what he does to her or his reaction to what she does to him) that she doesn't care.
(She doesn't care, anyway, her emotions are off.)
Except that when they aren't doing this, she finds herself caring. Outside this room, he's distant, respectful, doesn't crowd her. But here, there's never any space between them.
See? She never should have slept with Damon Salvatore.
So she pushes him on to his back and she slithers down his chest. He laughs, a truly joyful sound, as her fingers skim his sides, the dips at his hip bones, as she cups his cock between her hands and brings it to her lips. She just rubs her closed mouth against the underside and he chokes on a moan that sounds half like her name and half like arrgghhh. It's not until his hands land on her arms, gripping her skin in encouragement that she opens up to take him in. He makes other sounds, ones that make her drip for him, that make her so ready that she knows he can smell just how aroused she is, because he doesn't let her finish him off. He plucks her up by hooking his hands under her arms, and he sits up so that as she descends on him, their lips can meet in a kiss.
His hands on her hips keep the rhythm steady but slow and Elena struggles against it. She can feel something coming--she can feel, and just as they both get right to the edge, Damon's eyes open. He looks into her face; his gaze is a blue, piercing brightness filled with love and a determination she's never seen before. She can't look away, even though part of her knows she should, immediately. Just as she starts to convulse, he says in a very soft voice, "Come back to me."
Later, she might harass him about the sire bond (or just let Stefan do it), but in that moment, right after, as she comes down from the only high she has access to right now, she starts weeping.
He holds her, his arms tight around her, his lips soft against her ear, his mouth full of platitudes that aren't platitudes because Damon doesn't say things that aren't true, and she lets it all back in.
Every last bit of it.
(She should never have slept with Damon Salvatore.)
Author: badboy_fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Elena POV; Damon/Elena
Word Count: ~1000
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 (post-switch flipping sex)
Spoilers: Everything through 4x15.
Summary: She only fools Damon for so long.
Author's notes: This is supposed to be in the same universe as upupa_epops's Forgetting and my other piece Remembering. But that's only if Marta thinks this works. We tend to be at odds in fic writing from time to time. :P Also, Marta, if this does work for you, maybe you should write Damon's POV? I mean, I KNOW WHAT HE'S THINKING, BUT DO YOU? ;-)
She only fools Damon for so long.
(She only fools herself for a little longer.)
It's probably because she keeps having sex with him. At first, he's mechanical and accommodating, but then he starts being sweet and tender, and that distant feeling in her brain starts to shrink.
(The only time it had been really vast was when she dropped the match in her living room, anyway.)
She has a moment of clarity to clarify all her moments of crystal clearness: she should never have slept with Damon Salvatore. This is something she'd known when she was human, and something she never would have done (except maybe once), but the truth is, it was kind of addictive.
His touch, his mouth, his worship. When she turned everything off, that was what she could feel with no worries. Damon, inside her. Damon, under her, on top of her, resisting her, but succumbing anyway.
Maybe if he'd just kept doing that, she would have been fine. But he eventually got over himself, and just started loving her again. He left his broken heart somewhere behind them, and she couldn't pretend that didn't bother her.
The truth is, if he cried after they fucked, or if his anger was overwhelming as he thrust into her, or if he closed his eyes so tight he didn't have to see her blank expression, she could feed off that. She didn't have to have her own emotions; Damon had plenty to go around.
(This had been the way it was before, when she was human, too. Damon, loving enough for both of them.)
He never says anything, though.
Of course.
Because now? Now, Damon is subservient in a way he never could have been before. Now, he's certain he has forever with her, and he can wait until she "turns it back on," or admits that even when it was off, it wasn't exactly off.
Because she's like Damon. And she knows. She met him on a dark road, and he wished her well. If that was Damon with his switch flipped, what could she hope to be like?
(Someone might catch her kicking a puppy. Maybe.)
(Okay, so she ate a few people in inappropriate circumstances, but she hadn't killed anyone. Or hadn't killed them all the way. Someone was always there--Caroline, Stefan, Damon--to administer vampire blood and compel them to forget.)
Her hand is clenched in his hair and his mouth is shiny as he lifts his head from between her legs when she finally asks him. "What was it like when your switch was flipped?"
He's cagey, but still honest, because he's Damon. "Not this good," he smirks, dragging his hand across his lips. He totally eye-fucks her while he licks his palm, and need erupts under her skin all over again. "You taste...satisfied," he murmurs.
See, before, she wanted Damon, but she could control it. That's why she had managed to know him for nearly two years before she gave in. Now, this is the place where all hell breaks loose. They go in his room, he shuts the door, and she loses hours. But they are all so pleasurable (either what he does to her or his reaction to what she does to him) that she doesn't care.
(She doesn't care, anyway, her emotions are off.)
Except that when they aren't doing this, she finds herself caring. Outside this room, he's distant, respectful, doesn't crowd her. But here, there's never any space between them.
See? She never should have slept with Damon Salvatore.
So she pushes him on to his back and she slithers down his chest. He laughs, a truly joyful sound, as her fingers skim his sides, the dips at his hip bones, as she cups his cock between her hands and brings it to her lips. She just rubs her closed mouth against the underside and he chokes on a moan that sounds half like her name and half like arrgghhh. It's not until his hands land on her arms, gripping her skin in encouragement that she opens up to take him in. He makes other sounds, ones that make her drip for him, that make her so ready that she knows he can smell just how aroused she is, because he doesn't let her finish him off. He plucks her up by hooking his hands under her arms, and he sits up so that as she descends on him, their lips can meet in a kiss.
His hands on her hips keep the rhythm steady but slow and Elena struggles against it. She can feel something coming--she can feel, and just as they both get right to the edge, Damon's eyes open. He looks into her face; his gaze is a blue, piercing brightness filled with love and a determination she's never seen before. She can't look away, even though part of her knows she should, immediately. Just as she starts to convulse, he says in a very soft voice, "Come back to me."
Later, she might harass him about the sire bond (or just let Stefan do it), but in that moment, right after, as she comes down from the only high she has access to right now, she starts weeping.
He holds her, his arms tight around her, his lips soft against her ear, his mouth full of platitudes that aren't platitudes because Damon doesn't say things that aren't true, and she lets it all back in.
Every last bit of it.
(She should never have slept with Damon Salvatore.)