The Dressing Room (IAN/NINA MA+) 1/1
Title: The Dressing Room
Author: laniaaa
Rating: MA+ / NC-17
Pairing: Ian/Nina, Damon/Elena
Category: Romance, PWP, Humor
Summary: "Nina," he growled, his voice hoarse, "quiet, quiet-- everyone-- they're outside, remember." If anything, that only increased her volume.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Explicit sexual situations, explicit language.
Show/Bookverse: Show
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
Author's Notes: Just, one of those things that kind of flowed while I watched TV. No masterpiece, nothing of spectacular mention, but some good old fun in the dressing rooms ;)
++
"Damon, you know how I feel about this." She looked up into his eyes and he stared back intensely. "I'm not going to talk it about it again."
"Well I want to," he said lowly, taking a step towards her, "and that means we're going to."
"No." She snapped, holding her ground, "Damon stop it--"
"Why don't you want to talk about it Elena?" He pried, stepping closer, invading her personal space. "Why can't we talk about it? It's not as if it was actually you I kiss-"
"Exactly!" She said loudly, but her voice faltered, "it wasn't me! It wasn't me, Damon!" She backed away at the flash in his eyes until her back hit the wall. Her eyes widened. "Damon, that's enough."
He pressed up against her, leaning down so close she could see the sharp movement of his eyes as they flickered from her lips then back up to her own wide eyes.
She laughed, breaking the spell. "God, Ian, you're so intense!"
He pulled back, smug, "I try."
"We totally have this scene down," she mused, flicking through the script. She leant back against the wall and smiled. "I still can't get over you sometimes."
Ian grinned, "most ladies can't."
She smacked him across the shoulder with her script. "I meant your acting, you ass." She grinned.
Ian laughed. "My acting? You play both Katherine and Elena far too well. Either you're a schizophrenic, or you have some serious talent." He winked at her expression.
"Excuse me, Somerhalder, I am not a schizo," she tried to say as seriously as possible while failing.
He raised a brow and leant in towards her. "Who is that? Katherine or Elena? No, wait, Nina?"
She smirked. "That's called Multiple Personality Disorder, smartass."
Ian scowled. "Whatever. Either way, you can't be that talented." He softened the blow with an infectious grin. She smacked him with her script again."Ouch, woman!" He made a grab for her script. "That hurts!"
She laughed, skirting behind a set chair to evade him. "Then stop being an ass!"
"Stop hiding and face me like a man!" He reached around and she laughed again. "Dobrev!"
"What's the matter Ian?" She teased.
"I'm going to get you, Dobrev, and smack you silly with that script."
"You can't even catch me."
"It's a small dressing room, I'm sure I'll manage."
Nina raised her eyebrows. "Doubt it."
Ian smirked. "You totally asked for it." With that, he lunged for the chair and pulled it away from her. Nina shrieked, stumbling away as Ian grabbed at her. She didn't last long, with the combination of her laughter and the size of the dressing room, she wasn't going to get far. Ian pinned her up against the door and wrestled her script out of her hands.
"Hey!" She yelped when he batted her across the arm with it.
"I warned you," he grinned, "and you didn't listen." He tapped her on the top of the head. She scowled.
"Give me my script, Ian." She reached for it, "you're being a dick!"
He laughed, holding it away from her and pinning her arm between their bodies. "Nice try."
She squirmed, scrunching her nose up, "Ian, come on!"
She tried to wriggle her arm free. He smirked and pressed up against her harder, "don't even bother. Say it, Nina, give in."
"No!"
He smirked, staring down at her. "All you need to say is, 'I, Nina Dobrev, agree that Ian Somerhalder is the sexiest and strongest of them all, and I am but a mere damsel in distress in need of his help.'"
Nina snorted. "If you think, in your right mind, that I would say that-- Ow!" She glared up at the script, "stop smacking me with that thing!"
"Say it."
"No!" She glared. "Don't make me knee you where it'll hurt."
"You wouldn't dare."
Nina smirked. "Try me." Ian didn't say anything. Nina met his eyes, staring him out, and brought her knee up. She stopped at his groin, but was surprised to see he didn't even bat an eye. Tough player. She kept her knee up. "Let me go, Ian."
"Or what?"
The suggestive tone his voice made her start, but she didn't let on, only raised her knee higher until it was pressing tight between his legs. Ian smirked. She didn't like how he was so cool about it.
"Ian--" She stopped, gasping when he moved into her knee. She realized after a moment that he was slowly grinding down against her leg. "Ian." She hated the way her voice rose an octave.
He smirked, bracketing her head by pressing his hand to the wall, leaning towards her. "Nina." His tone was only slightly mocking. Nina swallowed, found herself arching up from the wall and into his chest. He hummed. "Nina." Her name came from his lips like a purr, his voice low and seductive.
Slowly, Ian inched his hand down to her leg, running it down to her thigh before curving his fingers under her knee. In one swift movement he hiked it up around his waist, effectively releasing the pressure between his own legs and allowing himself to press in against hers. She gasped. He drove his hips into hers, as her arms came around his shoulders, bringing him closer.
"Shit, Ian--" Her voice faltered as he pressed his lips against her neck, teasing touches. She sighed, her head tipping back and hitting the door with a thunk. She winced. She felt Ian chuckle against her neck.
"You're so smooth, Dobrev."
"Stop sounding so smug," she muttered.
Ian laughed. "I'll stop sounding so smug when you stop grinding against me."
"I am not grinding! That is all you!" Even as she lifted her hips into his.
Ian didn't bother answering. He pulled back, met her eyes. "Nina," he breathed, "tell me--"
"Yes," she nodded hurriedly, "yes, shit, yes Ian."
He groaned, fingers running up her thigh, "You need to wear skirts more often," he muttered, as his fingers traced up to her panties. Nina nodded dumbly, and hummed when his fingers rubbed over the damp material, teasing her.
"Ian," she mewled, "please."
He smirked, fingers shifting her panties aside, and as he pushed one finger into her he kissed her hungrily. Nina's hips rose into his hand and she met his kiss with equal force. It was messy, a little uncoordinated but they worked a rhythm, even as Ian added another finger and worked his wrist harder, pumping his fingers into her as she made little noises into his mouth.
"Nina," he growled, his voice hoarse, "quiet, quiet-- everyone-- they're outside, remember."
If anything, that only increased her volume. Ian bit the inside of his cheek. Fuck, he was so turned on right now. Then Nina's hands were on the fly of his jeans and Oh God, she worked hurriedly at his pants, fingers fumbling as she drew them down enough until she could grasp his cock.
"No boxers or briefs?" She muttered trying to sound unaffected by what his fingers were doing.
Ian's laugh was low, "nope." Then his eyes fluttered as she grasped his dick, pumping her hand up and down his shaft as best as she could in time to what he was doing to her. "God, Nina--"
"Ian, come on." She murmured excitedly and pushed him away from her. He blinked, a little unsure of what was going on, before he realized she was drawing her panties down her legs and stepping out of them. So fucking sexy. "Here," she grabbed his hand, pulling him to the dresser. He hitched his jeans up with his free hand and stumbled after her. In one sweep she'd knocked off papers and make up and hair equipment. She hoisted herself up and Ian watched himself in the mirror behind her as he stepped between her legs.
"Nina, are you sure--"
"Yes," she said, "I'm so sure, Ian- I've wanted you-- just-- come on, now." She caught his arm, eyes wide and pupils dilated with excitement as she drew him in.
Ian smirked, running his hands around her ass and pulling her to the edge of the table. She hitched her legs up and crossed them around his waist, her skirt riding up around her waist like a belt. She still had her shoes on. He used his hand to guide himself toward her, and then pushed in. Nina groaned, head tipped back and hands clutching at Ian's shoulders as he drove into her.
"Harder, Ian, please--"
He did as she asked, forcing himself as deep as he could. Nina exhaled heavily, chest arching up and hips gyrating as best as they could to match his rhythm, to feel as much as she could. He moved his hands down to her waist and pulled her further onto his body. Nina was making low sounds in her throat and Ian was breathing heavily as he continued his hard pace. He drove into her as hard as he could and her head snapped back, smacking into the mirror. It didn't phase her, she just clutched at him harder and when he flicked his eyes up in concern she was watching him. Her head was tilted back, but her eyes were on him, dark and hooded. Her tongue flicked out to lick her lower lip and Ian groaned, leaning forward and capturing her mouth in a hot kiss. It was messy and their rhythm faltered but it didn't stop them.
Nina's hands skimmed up to hold his face, pressing their lips together in a clash of teeth and tongue. "I'm so close, Ian, I'm so close." She murmured it again, and Ian thought good, because so am I. He growled, holding her hips tightly and driving himself into her with as much force as he could, bringing her to the edge. He felt her clench around him and that was it, heat flared through his abdomen and he came, spilling himself inside her with a groan.
"Ian," Nina murmured, "God, you--" She kissed him again, moving to his cheek so he could breathe. He laughed softly into her neck.
"You're amazing, Nina."
She hummed in approval of that and shifted, allowing him to pull himself out from her. She frowned at the loss of pressure and fullness but smiled when he zipped himself back into his pants and came over to kiss her.
"You're not too bad yourself, Somerhalder." She smirked at his expression and then laughed. "Don't look so mortified!"
"Not too bad," he muttered to himself, "what a cheek." He looked up at her, grinning. "Come on, or else everyone will be wondering where we are."
She hopped down from the dressing table and blushed when Ian handed her the discarded panties.
She made a face as she walked. "Shit, I need some baby wipes or something. I'll sneak into the toilets out there." Ian laughed and she pushed him lightly. "Not funny," she told him.
He smiled. "I really beg to differ."
She shook her head with a grin and reached for the doorknob, but Ian reached out and caught her arm. "What--" He cut her off, sealing his mouth over hers quickly. When he pulled away she had her eyes closed. They fluttered open and she blushed again.
He fixed her hair quickly, tugged a strand behind her ear. "You're beautiful, Nina."
She glanced down and then looked back at him. "Thank you."
She opened the door to the dressing room and stepped out, Ian close behind her. They looked around discreetly as Ian shut the door behind them.
Nina exhaled softly. "Looks like no one heard--"
"Guys," they jumped as Paul waltzed past, a shit eating grin on his face. "We're glad you finally hit it off, but could you keep it off set, now?"
++
Fin
Author: laniaaa
Rating: MA+ / NC-17
Pairing: Ian/Nina, Damon/Elena
Category: Romance, PWP, Humor
Summary: "Nina," he growled, his voice hoarse, "quiet, quiet-- everyone-- they're outside, remember." If anything, that only increased her volume.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Explicit sexual situations, explicit language.
Show/Bookverse: Show
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
Author's Notes: Just, one of those things that kind of flowed while I watched TV. No masterpiece, nothing of spectacular mention, but some good old fun in the dressing rooms ;)
++
"Damon, you know how I feel about this." She looked up into his eyes and he stared back intensely. "I'm not going to talk it about it again."
"Well I want to," he said lowly, taking a step towards her, "and that means we're going to."
"No." She snapped, holding her ground, "Damon stop it--"
"Why don't you want to talk about it Elena?" He pried, stepping closer, invading her personal space. "Why can't we talk about it? It's not as if it was actually you I kiss-"
"Exactly!" She said loudly, but her voice faltered, "it wasn't me! It wasn't me, Damon!" She backed away at the flash in his eyes until her back hit the wall. Her eyes widened. "Damon, that's enough."
He pressed up against her, leaning down so close she could see the sharp movement of his eyes as they flickered from her lips then back up to her own wide eyes.
She laughed, breaking the spell. "God, Ian, you're so intense!"
He pulled back, smug, "I try."
"We totally have this scene down," she mused, flicking through the script. She leant back against the wall and smiled. "I still can't get over you sometimes."
Ian grinned, "most ladies can't."
She smacked him across the shoulder with her script. "I meant your acting, you ass." She grinned.
Ian laughed. "My acting? You play both Katherine and Elena far too well. Either you're a schizophrenic, or you have some serious talent." He winked at her expression.
"Excuse me, Somerhalder, I am not a schizo," she tried to say as seriously as possible while failing.
He raised a brow and leant in towards her. "Who is that? Katherine or Elena? No, wait, Nina?"
She smirked. "That's called Multiple Personality Disorder, smartass."
Ian scowled. "Whatever. Either way, you can't be that talented." He softened the blow with an infectious grin. She smacked him with her script again."Ouch, woman!" He made a grab for her script. "That hurts!"
She laughed, skirting behind a set chair to evade him. "Then stop being an ass!"
"Stop hiding and face me like a man!" He reached around and she laughed again. "Dobrev!"
"What's the matter Ian?" She teased.
"I'm going to get you, Dobrev, and smack you silly with that script."
"You can't even catch me."
"It's a small dressing room, I'm sure I'll manage."
Nina raised her eyebrows. "Doubt it."
Ian smirked. "You totally asked for it." With that, he lunged for the chair and pulled it away from her. Nina shrieked, stumbling away as Ian grabbed at her. She didn't last long, with the combination of her laughter and the size of the dressing room, she wasn't going to get far. Ian pinned her up against the door and wrestled her script out of her hands.
"Hey!" She yelped when he batted her across the arm with it.
"I warned you," he grinned, "and you didn't listen." He tapped her on the top of the head. She scowled.
"Give me my script, Ian." She reached for it, "you're being a dick!"
He laughed, holding it away from her and pinning her arm between their bodies. "Nice try."
She squirmed, scrunching her nose up, "Ian, come on!"
She tried to wriggle her arm free. He smirked and pressed up against her harder, "don't even bother. Say it, Nina, give in."
"No!"
He smirked, staring down at her. "All you need to say is, 'I, Nina Dobrev, agree that Ian Somerhalder is the sexiest and strongest of them all, and I am but a mere damsel in distress in need of his help.'"
Nina snorted. "If you think, in your right mind, that I would say that-- Ow!" She glared up at the script, "stop smacking me with that thing!"
"Say it."
"No!" She glared. "Don't make me knee you where it'll hurt."
"You wouldn't dare."
Nina smirked. "Try me." Ian didn't say anything. Nina met his eyes, staring him out, and brought her knee up. She stopped at his groin, but was surprised to see he didn't even bat an eye. Tough player. She kept her knee up. "Let me go, Ian."
"Or what?"
The suggestive tone his voice made her start, but she didn't let on, only raised her knee higher until it was pressing tight between his legs. Ian smirked. She didn't like how he was so cool about it.
"Ian--" She stopped, gasping when he moved into her knee. She realized after a moment that he was slowly grinding down against her leg. "Ian." She hated the way her voice rose an octave.
He smirked, bracketing her head by pressing his hand to the wall, leaning towards her. "Nina." His tone was only slightly mocking. Nina swallowed, found herself arching up from the wall and into his chest. He hummed. "Nina." Her name came from his lips like a purr, his voice low and seductive.
Slowly, Ian inched his hand down to her leg, running it down to her thigh before curving his fingers under her knee. In one swift movement he hiked it up around his waist, effectively releasing the pressure between his own legs and allowing himself to press in against hers. She gasped. He drove his hips into hers, as her arms came around his shoulders, bringing him closer.
"Shit, Ian--" Her voice faltered as he pressed his lips against her neck, teasing touches. She sighed, her head tipping back and hitting the door with a thunk. She winced. She felt Ian chuckle against her neck.
"You're so smooth, Dobrev."
"Stop sounding so smug," she muttered.
Ian laughed. "I'll stop sounding so smug when you stop grinding against me."
"I am not grinding! That is all you!" Even as she lifted her hips into his.
Ian didn't bother answering. He pulled back, met her eyes. "Nina," he breathed, "tell me--"
"Yes," she nodded hurriedly, "yes, shit, yes Ian."
He groaned, fingers running up her thigh, "You need to wear skirts more often," he muttered, as his fingers traced up to her panties. Nina nodded dumbly, and hummed when his fingers rubbed over the damp material, teasing her.
"Ian," she mewled, "please."
He smirked, fingers shifting her panties aside, and as he pushed one finger into her he kissed her hungrily. Nina's hips rose into his hand and she met his kiss with equal force. It was messy, a little uncoordinated but they worked a rhythm, even as Ian added another finger and worked his wrist harder, pumping his fingers into her as she made little noises into his mouth.
"Nina," he growled, his voice hoarse, "quiet, quiet-- everyone-- they're outside, remember."
If anything, that only increased her volume. Ian bit the inside of his cheek. Fuck, he was so turned on right now. Then Nina's hands were on the fly of his jeans and Oh God, she worked hurriedly at his pants, fingers fumbling as she drew them down enough until she could grasp his cock.
"No boxers or briefs?" She muttered trying to sound unaffected by what his fingers were doing.
Ian's laugh was low, "nope." Then his eyes fluttered as she grasped his dick, pumping her hand up and down his shaft as best as she could in time to what he was doing to her. "God, Nina--"
"Ian, come on." She murmured excitedly and pushed him away from her. He blinked, a little unsure of what was going on, before he realized she was drawing her panties down her legs and stepping out of them. So fucking sexy. "Here," she grabbed his hand, pulling him to the dresser. He hitched his jeans up with his free hand and stumbled after her. In one sweep she'd knocked off papers and make up and hair equipment. She hoisted herself up and Ian watched himself in the mirror behind her as he stepped between her legs.
"Nina, are you sure--"
"Yes," she said, "I'm so sure, Ian- I've wanted you-- just-- come on, now." She caught his arm, eyes wide and pupils dilated with excitement as she drew him in.
Ian smirked, running his hands around her ass and pulling her to the edge of the table. She hitched her legs up and crossed them around his waist, her skirt riding up around her waist like a belt. She still had her shoes on. He used his hand to guide himself toward her, and then pushed in. Nina groaned, head tipped back and hands clutching at Ian's shoulders as he drove into her.
"Harder, Ian, please--"
He did as she asked, forcing himself as deep as he could. Nina exhaled heavily, chest arching up and hips gyrating as best as they could to match his rhythm, to feel as much as she could. He moved his hands down to her waist and pulled her further onto his body. Nina was making low sounds in her throat and Ian was breathing heavily as he continued his hard pace. He drove into her as hard as he could and her head snapped back, smacking into the mirror. It didn't phase her, she just clutched at him harder and when he flicked his eyes up in concern she was watching him. Her head was tilted back, but her eyes were on him, dark and hooded. Her tongue flicked out to lick her lower lip and Ian groaned, leaning forward and capturing her mouth in a hot kiss. It was messy and their rhythm faltered but it didn't stop them.
Nina's hands skimmed up to hold his face, pressing their lips together in a clash of teeth and tongue. "I'm so close, Ian, I'm so close." She murmured it again, and Ian thought good, because so am I. He growled, holding her hips tightly and driving himself into her with as much force as he could, bringing her to the edge. He felt her clench around him and that was it, heat flared through his abdomen and he came, spilling himself inside her with a groan.
"Ian," Nina murmured, "God, you--" She kissed him again, moving to his cheek so he could breathe. He laughed softly into her neck.
"You're amazing, Nina."
She hummed in approval of that and shifted, allowing him to pull himself out from her. She frowned at the loss of pressure and fullness but smiled when he zipped himself back into his pants and came over to kiss her.
"You're not too bad yourself, Somerhalder." She smirked at his expression and then laughed. "Don't look so mortified!"
"Not too bad," he muttered to himself, "what a cheek." He looked up at her, grinning. "Come on, or else everyone will be wondering where we are."
She hopped down from the dressing table and blushed when Ian handed her the discarded panties.
She made a face as she walked. "Shit, I need some baby wipes or something. I'll sneak into the toilets out there." Ian laughed and she pushed him lightly. "Not funny," she told him.
He smiled. "I really beg to differ."
She shook her head with a grin and reached for the doorknob, but Ian reached out and caught her arm. "What--" He cut her off, sealing his mouth over hers quickly. When he pulled away she had her eyes closed. They fluttered open and she blushed again.
He fixed her hair quickly, tugged a strand behind her ear. "You're beautiful, Nina."
She glanced down and then looked back at him. "Thank you."
She opened the door to the dressing room and stepped out, Ian close behind her. They looked around discreetly as Ian shut the door behind them.
Nina exhaled softly. "Looks like no one heard--"
"Guys," they jumped as Paul waltzed past, a shit eating grin on his face. "We're glad you finally hit it off, but could you keep it off set, now?"
++
Fin