Tell Me You Don't Love Me (Damon/Elena)
Title: Tell Me You Don't Love Me
Rating: NC17
For: Elena Gilbert Comment!Ficathon; Lover, please do not, fall to your knees / Its not like I believe in everlasting love prompted by youcallitwinter
Characters/Pairings: Damon/Elena
Wordcount: 550
Summary: “Tell me you don't love me,” he demands when she starts unbuttoning his shirt, trying to not make it sound like a challenge, failing. (Written after TVD 3x19)
Tell Me You Don't Love Me
“Tell me you don't love me,” he demands when she starts unbuttoning his shirt, trying to not make it sound like a challenge, failing.
Elena looks him straight in the eye with her hand still on his chest. She could crush him with a flick of her wrist or two well-aimed words; he's never loved her more.
“I don't,” she says firmly before she kisses him.
Elena is stunning when she's honest, so Damon tries to give as good as he gets and obediently returns her kiss. She's easy to follow, easier than anyone he's ever followed before. He can tune in to her in no time, it's enough that he closes his eyes and focuses on her fingers in his hair and her hips against his own. Elena likes to kiss. Elena likes to lead. Elena likes to bite. Elena likes to be worshipped.
He knows that the bed is off limits for him, so when Elena starts moving, he gets the hint instantly and steps backwards. She doesn't let go of his face as she sits herself on a windowsill; her fingers brush against his shoulders and Damon shrugs off his shirt. She can't stop touching him, grabs his ass and pulls him closer to rub against him even though they're still clothed. She wants him and she can have him, it's simple as that. There's no time to be graceful. He kicks off his pants while Elena pushes her hips up to slide off her own. They must be giving her neighbors quite a show.
“Don't,” she whispers when he tries to put his hand on her cheek. It seems as if she was afraid he'd think she was fragile, such a laughable idea. He's earned it to see her exactly as she is, and she is brilliant, Elena, his Elena, pins, and needles, and rough edges, need and want instead of should and would.
He's down on his knees in front of her in a blink, unceremoniously slides his tongue into her and feels a heavy hand at the back of his head, firmly directing him where she wants him. Elena likes it a little to the right, Elena likes it messy, Elena likes it fast.
She pulls him up again in no time, wraps her legs around his waist, still not letting go of his hair. He's already inside her when she lets him take off her shirt. He doesn't really get to see her naked. Elena sits up and slides up and down his body as he thrusts, setting a pace that suits her. He should probably last longer than he does, but Elena seems to enjoy that he's fallen apart. She stares at him shamelessly when he picks up his pants from the floor, and Damon is sure she notices every detail, his uneven breath and shaky knees. Elena likes to watch, Elena likes him raw.
He kisses her hand before he goes, because he's also allowed a little self-indulgence. Still, he doesn't say a word, doesn't try to be close. There might be time for that later, but tonight everything has to be made clear and simple: Elena Gilbert tells him goodnight like it's any other night.
He can finish buttoning up his shirt in the hallway.
Rating: NC17
For: Elena Gilbert Comment!Ficathon; Lover, please do not, fall to your knees / Its not like I believe in everlasting love prompted by youcallitwinter
Characters/Pairings: Damon/Elena
Wordcount: 550
Summary: “Tell me you don't love me,” he demands when she starts unbuttoning his shirt, trying to not make it sound like a challenge, failing. (Written after TVD 3x19)
Tell Me You Don't Love Me
“Tell me you don't love me,” he demands when she starts unbuttoning his shirt, trying to not make it sound like a challenge, failing.
Elena looks him straight in the eye with her hand still on his chest. She could crush him with a flick of her wrist or two well-aimed words; he's never loved her more.
“I don't,” she says firmly before she kisses him.
Elena is stunning when she's honest, so Damon tries to give as good as he gets and obediently returns her kiss. She's easy to follow, easier than anyone he's ever followed before. He can tune in to her in no time, it's enough that he closes his eyes and focuses on her fingers in his hair and her hips against his own. Elena likes to kiss. Elena likes to lead. Elena likes to bite. Elena likes to be worshipped.
He knows that the bed is off limits for him, so when Elena starts moving, he gets the hint instantly and steps backwards. She doesn't let go of his face as she sits herself on a windowsill; her fingers brush against his shoulders and Damon shrugs off his shirt. She can't stop touching him, grabs his ass and pulls him closer to rub against him even though they're still clothed. She wants him and she can have him, it's simple as that. There's no time to be graceful. He kicks off his pants while Elena pushes her hips up to slide off her own. They must be giving her neighbors quite a show.
“Don't,” she whispers when he tries to put his hand on her cheek. It seems as if she was afraid he'd think she was fragile, such a laughable idea. He's earned it to see her exactly as she is, and she is brilliant, Elena, his Elena, pins, and needles, and rough edges, need and want instead of should and would.
He's down on his knees in front of her in a blink, unceremoniously slides his tongue into her and feels a heavy hand at the back of his head, firmly directing him where she wants him. Elena likes it a little to the right, Elena likes it messy, Elena likes it fast.
She pulls him up again in no time, wraps her legs around his waist, still not letting go of his hair. He's already inside her when she lets him take off her shirt. He doesn't really get to see her naked. Elena sits up and slides up and down his body as he thrusts, setting a pace that suits her. He should probably last longer than he does, but Elena seems to enjoy that he's fallen apart. She stares at him shamelessly when he picks up his pants from the floor, and Damon is sure she notices every detail, his uneven breath and shaky knees. Elena likes to watch, Elena likes him raw.
He kisses her hand before he goes, because he's also allowed a little self-indulgence. Still, he doesn't say a word, doesn't try to be close. There might be time for that later, but tonight everything has to be made clear and simple: Elena Gilbert tells him goodnight like it's any other night.
He can finish buttoning up his shirt in the hallway.