[fic] there's nothing more than empty sheets between our love [1/4]
Title: there's nothing more than empty sheets between our love [1/4]
Author: badboy_fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Elena & Damon POV; Damon/Elena
Word Count: ~2000
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, because yeah. Damon Salvatore. Also, Elena Gilbert.
Spoilers: Everything through 5x10. [This fic will probably blatantly disregard the fact that Katherine most likely will take up space in Elena's body.]
Summary:
Author's notes: Because. Damon Salvatore. Title lifted from P!nk's "Just Give Me a Reason." Opening quote from P!nk's "The Great Escape."
terrified of the dark, but not if you go with me
Katherine is convalescing.
Stefan is caring for her.
Caroline is seething.
Jeremy and Bonnie are somewhere having sex, completely unfazed by the whole thing.
Damon is hiding in his bedroom.
And Elena?
...she's preparing for battle.
She goes through a few scenarios in her head.
There's the seduction one, but she knows the outcome of that all too easy; he'll give in for the moment (she remembers compulsion to kill Damon, and her plan? Seduction. It had totally worked until he realized she was going to kill him, and then he managed to talk her down), but he'll backtrack once it's over. He'll excuse himself, tell her of course he loves her and wants her, and that's why he'd had a moment of weakness, but his edict still stands, because he loves her.
There is the knock-down drag-out fight. They are going to have to have that one eventually, anyway, so it's either now or later, but Elena decides later is better. Catch him when he thinks it's passed somehow, when he thinks the danger is over.
Her third option is meekness. She could simply make him think she is going along with this ridiculous notion, but she comes to the conclusion that that would raise the most suspicion, because really, when has she ever done what he told her to do? It's not natural for that to happen, and it would put him on the defensive even more.
So, what she does goes something like this:
She walks into his bedroom, and he's pensively drinking in front of the fire. She takes off her clothes and puts on her pajamas without speaking to him. Just as he finds the words to say, "What the hell, Elena?" and she can see the further demand of there are four other rooms not in use right now, go sleep in one of them! she puts her hand up to stop him.
"I don't accept your break-up," she says as she jumps on to the bed.
He just stares at her as she slides her legs under the down comforter.
She's totally got him, because he doesn't know what to do.
If he were Stefan, he would just go sleep in another room. But he's Damon, and this is his room, goddammit, and he doesn't like the other rooms. They're not as comfortable, and even when Damon is eviscerating his insides, he likes to live his life in comfort and style.
So she kicks him while he's down. She leans back on her elbows, waiting for his eyes to meet hers. "I just learned that my father did terrible things to do wonderful things, and I don't know how to process it." This is not entirely true, but she's not above lying when it serves her purposes. "And then after my boyfriend attempted to abandon me, my ex-boyfriend started catering to my bitch of a doppelganger. So really, could you just get over yourself for tonight, and hold me?"
She watches the myriad of emotions cross his face, and she knows he's not totally duped; he's too smart not to see at least some of the manipulation, but he's also so filled with guilt at the moment, that he hesitates just long enough to be sucked into it.
And then she uses the magic words: "I need you, Damon."
Maybe it's all the bourbon he's drunk, or just the fact that he wants to be with her more than he thinks that he's so terrible for her, but whatever it is, Elena just smiles when he resignedly sets his glass on the hearth and crosses the room to the bed. He keeps his clothes on, which is not normal, but he slides in under the covers, and curves his body behind hers.
She sighs, and puts her arm over his, lacing her fingers through his. The shaky breath he releases against her cheek nearly breaks her heart, but then his fingers clench around hers and for the moment, she gives herself the victory.
Elena 1, Damon 0.
Early on in the summer after she graduates from high school, Damon Salvatore notices something very interesting about Elena Gilbert.
She smiles while she has sex.
He's always been an advocate for having fun in bed, but this isn't just a sign that she's having a good time. (There are lots of other signs for that, really, and he likes the audio probably more than the visual, if he's being totally honest.) What her repeated smiles express so well is the state of happiness she's in.
Because of him.
Stefan's not around to get his nose rubbed in it, and on most days, Damon's big enough to be okay with that, but he has his petty moments now and again. Lying in his bed with her, face to face on symmetrically placed pillows, while enjoying her big-ass smile happens to be one of those times.
"Can I ask you a question?" she queries, her fingers grazing his cheekbone and the edge of his jaw before tracing his lips.
His smiling lips. Yes, he, too, is blissfully happy, and it doesn't have as much to do with how naked Elena is in his bed right now as it does with her need to tell him three times a day that she loves him. But the naked definitely helps.
"Hmmm?" he hums since he doesn't want to open his mouth and stop her caressing finger with something as lame as actual words.
"Remember when I couldn't keep blood down, so I came to you for help?" Her gaze doesn't quite meet his, and he's charmed by her shyness. It overcomes her once in a while, and it's usually when she wants to talk about something they've done intimately. Those conversations generally consist of Damon tucking away the information onto the Elena likes this list, or the Elena REALLY likes that list.
(They've had some awesome conversations.)
And of course he remembers the incident she's referring to; it was the first time he orgasmed in front of her, though he's not sure if she knows that's what happened. She was really hungry, and pretty focused on her own needs that day. He hums affirmatively again, and flares his eyes at her so she knows he knows just what she's talking about.
She giggles and ducks her chin a bit. "I've always wondered...what did that feel like for you? Because..." Her eyes skitter up, up, up and he catches them when they hit his own. The intensity of his stare won't let her look away, even if it's hard for her to say what she's got to say while looking directly at him. "Because it...felt really amazing to me, and you said it was personal, so I wondered if it was different-amazing for you, since you were the blood giver, and I was the blood taker?"
"Different-amazing?" he echoes, smirking at her a little. Her fingers are still rubbing at his lips, but her touch has changed from exploratory to teasing, and he can feel the reaction coiling in his body.
Or maybe it's the walk down memory lane. Probably a bit of both.
She smiles again, that happy, satisfied, gloriously beautiful expression he's seen so much of lately, and all he can think is that he wants to do whatever it takes to keep her looking like this forever.
"I..." she hesitates. "My panties were a bit...wet," she whispers the last word, and Damon is fully aroused again, ready to roll on top of her and take them both to the place they've spent most of their time for the last three weeks. "...after," she continues. "I felt pretty...guilty, I mean it was Pastor Young's funeral and all, but when I wasn't starving for blood, I was pretty much just thinking about...this..." Her hand vacates his face so fast, he's unprepared for her sliding it between their bodies to grasp his cock.
He gasps, "Holy shit, Elena," as she slides her fist up his shaft, and he moves in response, pushing her hair back and bringing her neck to his mouth. They haven't shared blood since they officially became a couple, but that was only because he'd been trying to keep some semblance of restraint visible, for both of them. He could willingly devour her 24 hours a day, by feeding, and fucking, and soaking up every ounce of love she gives him, but he's been practicing some form of moderation so as to keep himself from totally losing himself in her.
"This is what it felt like for me," he breathes just as he sinks his fangs into her carotid artery.
He knows it's probably a thousand times more powerful there than it was from the meaty part of the palm where he had her drink--a purposefully tame place, yet considering his intense attraction to her, his unrequited-at-the-time love, and his supreme sexual frustration with her back then, it had been enough to shoot him into orgasm territory about as quickly as drinking from her neck does for her right now, after a few weeks of multiple orgasms a day.
She moans and keens at the same time, and the hand around him spasmodically grips him as she rides the wave. Her thumb rubs the underside of the head of his penis as she groans out his name and he goes with her, his release splattering against her stomach in a less than elegant fashion.
He takes a deeper pull from her neck and she curses loudly, coming again right on top of the first, and neither of them seem to care about the lack of finesse between them.
She pants heavily as he lifts his head, and he drags the back of his hand across his mouth, smiling as he does so.
"That was not what you felt," she accuses weakly, an answering smile tweaking the corners of her lips, even if she's too spent to go full-on with it.
"No?" he says, the teasing lilt to his voice enough to confirm her suspicion.
"No," she repeats, her voice a little firmer...
Damon's eyes pop open just as Elena's fangs sink into his wrist. They're in the same position they had been when he climbed in bed with her the night before, only she's managed to put memories in his head and bring his arm up to her mouth. He wakes up to a hard-on that very quickly expels itself as she drinks from him, and he'd get mad at her for taking advantage of him if he had any ability to do anything except lay there with his chest heaving.
But, he can't, because, well. Elena.
This break-up thing wasn't going very well so far.
"That was pretty shady," he remarks as she rolls out of his arms.
As her feet hit the floor, she tosses over her shoulder, "I was thirsty."
He watches as the naked curve of her back appears before his eyes and she drops her sleep shirt on the floor on her way into the bathroom.
If he thought loving Elena Gilbert had taken him to the depths of hell before he reached the highest degree of heaven, trying to break up with her was going to be a whole new level of purgatory.
He suddenly realizes just what he needs.
Reinforcements.
...chapter two...
Author: badboy_fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Elena & Damon POV; Damon/Elena
Word Count: ~2000
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, because yeah. Damon Salvatore. Also, Elena Gilbert.
Spoilers: Everything through 5x10. [This fic will probably blatantly disregard the fact that Katherine most likely will take up space in Elena's body.]
Summary:
Author's notes: Because. Damon Salvatore. Title lifted from P!nk's "Just Give Me a Reason." Opening quote from P!nk's "The Great Escape."
terrified of the dark, but not if you go with me
Katherine is convalescing.
Stefan is caring for her.
Caroline is seething.
Jeremy and Bonnie are somewhere having sex, completely unfazed by the whole thing.
Damon is hiding in his bedroom.
And Elena?
...she's preparing for battle.
She goes through a few scenarios in her head.
There's the seduction one, but she knows the outcome of that all too easy; he'll give in for the moment (she remembers compulsion to kill Damon, and her plan? Seduction. It had totally worked until he realized she was going to kill him, and then he managed to talk her down), but he'll backtrack once it's over. He'll excuse himself, tell her of course he loves her and wants her, and that's why he'd had a moment of weakness, but his edict still stands, because he loves her.
There is the knock-down drag-out fight. They are going to have to have that one eventually, anyway, so it's either now or later, but Elena decides later is better. Catch him when he thinks it's passed somehow, when he thinks the danger is over.
Her third option is meekness. She could simply make him think she is going along with this ridiculous notion, but she comes to the conclusion that that would raise the most suspicion, because really, when has she ever done what he told her to do? It's not natural for that to happen, and it would put him on the defensive even more.
So, what she does goes something like this:
She walks into his bedroom, and he's pensively drinking in front of the fire. She takes off her clothes and puts on her pajamas without speaking to him. Just as he finds the words to say, "What the hell, Elena?" and she can see the further demand of there are four other rooms not in use right now, go sleep in one of them! she puts her hand up to stop him.
"I don't accept your break-up," she says as she jumps on to the bed.
He just stares at her as she slides her legs under the down comforter.
She's totally got him, because he doesn't know what to do.
If he were Stefan, he would just go sleep in another room. But he's Damon, and this is his room, goddammit, and he doesn't like the other rooms. They're not as comfortable, and even when Damon is eviscerating his insides, he likes to live his life in comfort and style.
So she kicks him while he's down. She leans back on her elbows, waiting for his eyes to meet hers. "I just learned that my father did terrible things to do wonderful things, and I don't know how to process it." This is not entirely true, but she's not above lying when it serves her purposes. "And then after my boyfriend attempted to abandon me, my ex-boyfriend started catering to my bitch of a doppelganger. So really, could you just get over yourself for tonight, and hold me?"
She watches the myriad of emotions cross his face, and she knows he's not totally duped; he's too smart not to see at least some of the manipulation, but he's also so filled with guilt at the moment, that he hesitates just long enough to be sucked into it.
And then she uses the magic words: "I need you, Damon."
Maybe it's all the bourbon he's drunk, or just the fact that he wants to be with her more than he thinks that he's so terrible for her, but whatever it is, Elena just smiles when he resignedly sets his glass on the hearth and crosses the room to the bed. He keeps his clothes on, which is not normal, but he slides in under the covers, and curves his body behind hers.
She sighs, and puts her arm over his, lacing her fingers through his. The shaky breath he releases against her cheek nearly breaks her heart, but then his fingers clench around hers and for the moment, she gives herself the victory.
Elena 1, Damon 0.
Early on in the summer after she graduates from high school, Damon Salvatore notices something very interesting about Elena Gilbert.
She smiles while she has sex.
He's always been an advocate for having fun in bed, but this isn't just a sign that she's having a good time. (There are lots of other signs for that, really, and he likes the audio probably more than the visual, if he's being totally honest.) What her repeated smiles express so well is the state of happiness she's in.
Because of him.
Stefan's not around to get his nose rubbed in it, and on most days, Damon's big enough to be okay with that, but he has his petty moments now and again. Lying in his bed with her, face to face on symmetrically placed pillows, while enjoying her big-ass smile happens to be one of those times.
"Can I ask you a question?" she queries, her fingers grazing his cheekbone and the edge of his jaw before tracing his lips.
His smiling lips. Yes, he, too, is blissfully happy, and it doesn't have as much to do with how naked Elena is in his bed right now as it does with her need to tell him three times a day that she loves him. But the naked definitely helps.
"Hmmm?" he hums since he doesn't want to open his mouth and stop her caressing finger with something as lame as actual words.
"Remember when I couldn't keep blood down, so I came to you for help?" Her gaze doesn't quite meet his, and he's charmed by her shyness. It overcomes her once in a while, and it's usually when she wants to talk about something they've done intimately. Those conversations generally consist of Damon tucking away the information onto the Elena likes this list, or the Elena REALLY likes that list.
(They've had some awesome conversations.)
And of course he remembers the incident she's referring to; it was the first time he orgasmed in front of her, though he's not sure if she knows that's what happened. She was really hungry, and pretty focused on her own needs that day. He hums affirmatively again, and flares his eyes at her so she knows he knows just what she's talking about.
She giggles and ducks her chin a bit. "I've always wondered...what did that feel like for you? Because..." Her eyes skitter up, up, up and he catches them when they hit his own. The intensity of his stare won't let her look away, even if it's hard for her to say what she's got to say while looking directly at him. "Because it...felt really amazing to me, and you said it was personal, so I wondered if it was different-amazing for you, since you were the blood giver, and I was the blood taker?"
"Different-amazing?" he echoes, smirking at her a little. Her fingers are still rubbing at his lips, but her touch has changed from exploratory to teasing, and he can feel the reaction coiling in his body.
Or maybe it's the walk down memory lane. Probably a bit of both.
She smiles again, that happy, satisfied, gloriously beautiful expression he's seen so much of lately, and all he can think is that he wants to do whatever it takes to keep her looking like this forever.
"I..." she hesitates. "My panties were a bit...wet," she whispers the last word, and Damon is fully aroused again, ready to roll on top of her and take them both to the place they've spent most of their time for the last three weeks. "...after," she continues. "I felt pretty...guilty, I mean it was Pastor Young's funeral and all, but when I wasn't starving for blood, I was pretty much just thinking about...this..." Her hand vacates his face so fast, he's unprepared for her sliding it between their bodies to grasp his cock.
He gasps, "Holy shit, Elena," as she slides her fist up his shaft, and he moves in response, pushing her hair back and bringing her neck to his mouth. They haven't shared blood since they officially became a couple, but that was only because he'd been trying to keep some semblance of restraint visible, for both of them. He could willingly devour her 24 hours a day, by feeding, and fucking, and soaking up every ounce of love she gives him, but he's been practicing some form of moderation so as to keep himself from totally losing himself in her.
"This is what it felt like for me," he breathes just as he sinks his fangs into her carotid artery.
He knows it's probably a thousand times more powerful there than it was from the meaty part of the palm where he had her drink--a purposefully tame place, yet considering his intense attraction to her, his unrequited-at-the-time love, and his supreme sexual frustration with her back then, it had been enough to shoot him into orgasm territory about as quickly as drinking from her neck does for her right now, after a few weeks of multiple orgasms a day.
She moans and keens at the same time, and the hand around him spasmodically grips him as she rides the wave. Her thumb rubs the underside of the head of his penis as she groans out his name and he goes with her, his release splattering against her stomach in a less than elegant fashion.
He takes a deeper pull from her neck and she curses loudly, coming again right on top of the first, and neither of them seem to care about the lack of finesse between them.
She pants heavily as he lifts his head, and he drags the back of his hand across his mouth, smiling as he does so.
"That was not what you felt," she accuses weakly, an answering smile tweaking the corners of her lips, even if she's too spent to go full-on with it.
"No?" he says, the teasing lilt to his voice enough to confirm her suspicion.
"No," she repeats, her voice a little firmer...
Damon's eyes pop open just as Elena's fangs sink into his wrist. They're in the same position they had been when he climbed in bed with her the night before, only she's managed to put memories in his head and bring his arm up to her mouth. He wakes up to a hard-on that very quickly expels itself as she drinks from him, and he'd get mad at her for taking advantage of him if he had any ability to do anything except lay there with his chest heaving.
But, he can't, because, well. Elena.
This break-up thing wasn't going very well so far.
"That was pretty shady," he remarks as she rolls out of his arms.
As her feet hit the floor, she tosses over her shoulder, "I was thirsty."
He watches as the naked curve of her back appears before his eyes and she drops her sleep shirt on the floor on her way into the bathroom.
If he thought loving Elena Gilbert had taken him to the depths of hell before he reached the highest degree of heaven, trying to break up with her was going to be a whole new level of purgatory.
He suddenly realizes just what he needs.
Reinforcements.
...chapter two...