I Hold You Close To Help You Give It Up (Damon/Elena)
I can't believe I just did this...
Title: I Hold You Close To Help You Give It Up
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1500
Characters/Pairings: Damon/Elena
Spoilers: 4x07
Summary: Damon isn't sure who kisses whom first.
A/N: Do you know what shame is? Yeah, neither do I. Mythical creature.
[4x07 spoiler]This is basically a make-feel-better version of the 4x07 D/E scene. In which I pretend the sire bond doesn't exist (while I still can). Please, do not look for any ~artistic value. This is comfort writing.
I Hold You Close To Help You Give It Up
Yeah I've been feeling everything
From hate to love
From love to lust
From lust to truth
I guess that's how I know you
So I hold you close to help you give it up.
Ed Sheeran, Kiss Me
Damon isn't sure who kisses whom first.
Funny how unimaginable this seemed once upon a time, when now everything is so ridiculously simple. Almost like she forgot to stop and he forgot to stop, and here they are now. Elena is so close to him it feels unreal, her mouth slowly exploring his and her hands sneaking up his arms.
There is a moment when it feels like they won't go any further, and in that one moment this is exactly what Damon wants: just a kiss, calm and easy, so they can sit together, drink some more and not talk. It would feel so good, after everything what happened today, to simply sit with someone and not talk.
But then Elena touches his face.
He isn't really sure how he ends up with his back against a wall, because Elena's hands all over him are all he can feel: strong, urgent fingers, and then a push, a distant sound of a lamp being knocked over in the background. All he can do is kiss her back, kiss back when Elena's hands fist his collar and when her hips push against his, kiss back when she rips his shirt open and touches his neck, kiss back when she moans into his mouth and never, ever comes up for a breath.
Elena is shaking, or maybe he's shaking, never mind, really, because she acts like she wants to claw her way into him. His fingers fall on her thigh, and she arches into him, hungry, needy and suddenly so vulnerable. Damon opens his eyes and tries to touch her face, but her fingers grasp his wrist before he can go past her hip, so he ends up awkwardly stroking her leg. But then her knee follows his hand up, and suddenly Damon understands what she wants.
He moves them in a blink, presses Elena to the opposite wall and lets her rest her weight on him, lift up her leg and climb a bit higher. She smiles into his mouth as she grinds into his groin, and Damon's never felt so alive, because, God, he's in her hands, hands on his face, and hair, and shoulders, and she's smiling. He wants to freeze this moment, stop time and stay like this, because he doesn't remember the last time he saw her so happy, felt her so happy, and he wants to, needs to keep making her happy.
Elena pulls at her own dress, and he tries to help her with his free hand, rolls the fabric up her waist and back to feel her bare skin under his fingers (to feel her bare skin against his chest). When the dress drops at their feet, Elena starts walking him towards the door, step by step, human speed.
Damon's bedroom is close, but he has no idea how long it takes them to get there. He loses sense of time and sense of space, because Elena, busy sliding his shirt off his shoulders, lets him discover her inch by inch. She likes to kiss and she likes to lead, things he guessed a long ago, but he couldn't have known how much she likes to touch, how much she needs to touch, to constantly make sure he's not going anywhere. For a second he considers saying something stupid and dramatic (he feels like he can say whatever the hell he wants), but then Elena pushes him onto the bed, and he has no words left.
All he can do is watch, watch in awe as Elena towers over him and then leans to kiss him again. He rolls them over when her fingers start unzipping his pants. He rests his weight on his elbows to make it easier for her to undress him, but he doesn't bother to break the kiss to help her. Somehow it's more important to feel her hands on him than to actually get naked, to feel that she doesn't want to rush it even though her body is humming with tension.
Soon he's naked and beyond ready, her legs wrapped around his waist and those ridiculous heels of hers digging into the small of his back, but then Damon realizes he doesn't want to do it like this, doesn't want to be on top of her and inside her just yet. He's been waiting for her so long that now he doesn't want to finish when he can drag things out for just a little bit longer.
(Wait until she wants him so much she pushes him down and takes him without questions.)
He can practically feel Elena's stare on his skin when he starts kissing his way down her body. She immediately guesses what he's doing, moves slightly to give him better access and murmurs with content, her hands holding on to the headboard behind her.
She managed to kick off her panties when she was undressing him, but Damon still kneels up before he lets her wrap her legs around his neck and slowly takes off her shoes.
The second he's done Elena's fingers are back in his hair, and she's urging him down, tugging like her life depended on it. It turns out Elena is loud, much louder than him, demanding and needy (alive, alive, Elena is alive). All Damon needs to do is close his eyes and listen to her body until he finds the right spot and the right speed. By the time he gets there he's so tuned in to her that he can hear blood in her veins, can feel the slightest twitch of muscles.
Elena laughs when she comes, laughs in a way that makes him feel a little dizzy, laughs and pulls him up for a kiss before he can wipe his mouth. He's a mess, his hair sticking up in every possible direction and his chin still wet from her, but he grins like an idiot when he hears her laugh, grins when she flips them over and kisses his neck.
Elena catches his wrists and pushes his hands behind his head. He doesn't even have enough time to be surprised, because then she starts kissing his chest. His heart skips a beat because suddenly he knows why she did it, knows what she's about to do, and he has to close his eyes if he doesn't want the show to be over before she even gets to his navel.
She kisses his ribs and his hips, and Damon opens his eyes just in time to see one of her hands fumbling with her long hair to keep it out of the way. Elena sighs impatiently as she tries twist it behind her back without taking her mouth off him. Eventually she gives up, looks up and shakes her head, her hair falling down her shoulders.
“Help me out?” she asks with an innocent smile, and Damon sits up slightly.
His hands are in her hair in a flash, holding in place the loose strands and massaging her scalp. Elena keeps eye contact when she takes him into her mouth. She's a little too fast at first, but then she relaxes her neck and adjusts her rhythm to the slightest movement of his fingers. Damon just can't stop staring: Elena Gilbert splayed comfortably on his legs, her mouth enveloping him without hesitation as her fingernails absently stroke the inside of his thigh.
It doesn't take long at all, and Damon tries to pull her away, give her a signal that he's close. Elena stops for a second, but she doesn't let go. She simply looks at him and nods, and Damon finds himself nodding as well. He lets her swallow him whole, he lets her because she wants to do it.
(Because he trusts her to do it, trusts her enough to let her witness how he frantically pushes his hips up to meet her mouth and how he can't catch a breath for a minute after he comes.)
Elena slides up his body lazily and doesn't even let him rest, she just kisses him again. She's tortuously slow now, tender and almost chaste. Elena likes to kiss, he remembers as his arms wrap loosely around her. The urgency is gone now, they're both relaxed and maybe a little bit sleepy, but they still can't stop touching each other. There's no reason why they would stop touching each other.
She straddles him as soon as he's ready again, sinks onto him carefully and braces herself against his chest before she starts moving. Damon gives her a few thrusts, but then he sits up. He kisses her collarbone, hoping for once that she won't push him back down. Maybe he even whispers something incoherent, because she lets him stay, rests her forearms on his shoulders and pulls him to her chest. It takes her some fumbling before she figures out how to move when he's so close, but once she picks up a rhythm, she never loses it. Damon is so completely surrounded by her he knows exactly when to slide a hand between them to help her. This climax is weaker, but Elena's mouth finds Damon's again as they shudder through it, grasping each other's hands.
Elena wraps herself in his shirt before she falls asleep.
Title: I Hold You Close To Help You Give It Up
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1500
Characters/Pairings: Damon/Elena
Spoilers: 4x07
Summary: Damon isn't sure who kisses whom first.
A/N: Do you know what shame is? Yeah, neither do I. Mythical creature.
[4x07 spoiler]This is basically a make-feel-better version of the 4x07 D/E scene. In which I pretend the sire bond doesn't exist (while I still can). Please, do not look for any ~artistic value. This is comfort writing.
I Hold You Close To Help You Give It Up
Yeah I've been feeling everything
From hate to love
From love to lust
From lust to truth
I guess that's how I know you
So I hold you close to help you give it up.
Ed Sheeran, Kiss Me
Damon isn't sure who kisses whom first.
Funny how unimaginable this seemed once upon a time, when now everything is so ridiculously simple. Almost like she forgot to stop and he forgot to stop, and here they are now. Elena is so close to him it feels unreal, her mouth slowly exploring his and her hands sneaking up his arms.
There is a moment when it feels like they won't go any further, and in that one moment this is exactly what Damon wants: just a kiss, calm and easy, so they can sit together, drink some more and not talk. It would feel so good, after everything what happened today, to simply sit with someone and not talk.
But then Elena touches his face.
He isn't really sure how he ends up with his back against a wall, because Elena's hands all over him are all he can feel: strong, urgent fingers, and then a push, a distant sound of a lamp being knocked over in the background. All he can do is kiss her back, kiss back when Elena's hands fist his collar and when her hips push against his, kiss back when she rips his shirt open and touches his neck, kiss back when she moans into his mouth and never, ever comes up for a breath.
Elena is shaking, or maybe he's shaking, never mind, really, because she acts like she wants to claw her way into him. His fingers fall on her thigh, and she arches into him, hungry, needy and suddenly so vulnerable. Damon opens his eyes and tries to touch her face, but her fingers grasp his wrist before he can go past her hip, so he ends up awkwardly stroking her leg. But then her knee follows his hand up, and suddenly Damon understands what she wants.
He moves them in a blink, presses Elena to the opposite wall and lets her rest her weight on him, lift up her leg and climb a bit higher. She smiles into his mouth as she grinds into his groin, and Damon's never felt so alive, because, God, he's in her hands, hands on his face, and hair, and shoulders, and she's smiling. He wants to freeze this moment, stop time and stay like this, because he doesn't remember the last time he saw her so happy, felt her so happy, and he wants to, needs to keep making her happy.
Elena pulls at her own dress, and he tries to help her with his free hand, rolls the fabric up her waist and back to feel her bare skin under his fingers (to feel her bare skin against his chest). When the dress drops at their feet, Elena starts walking him towards the door, step by step, human speed.
Damon's bedroom is close, but he has no idea how long it takes them to get there. He loses sense of time and sense of space, because Elena, busy sliding his shirt off his shoulders, lets him discover her inch by inch. She likes to kiss and she likes to lead, things he guessed a long ago, but he couldn't have known how much she likes to touch, how much she needs to touch, to constantly make sure he's not going anywhere. For a second he considers saying something stupid and dramatic (he feels like he can say whatever the hell he wants), but then Elena pushes him onto the bed, and he has no words left.
All he can do is watch, watch in awe as Elena towers over him and then leans to kiss him again. He rolls them over when her fingers start unzipping his pants. He rests his weight on his elbows to make it easier for her to undress him, but he doesn't bother to break the kiss to help her. Somehow it's more important to feel her hands on him than to actually get naked, to feel that she doesn't want to rush it even though her body is humming with tension.
Soon he's naked and beyond ready, her legs wrapped around his waist and those ridiculous heels of hers digging into the small of his back, but then Damon realizes he doesn't want to do it like this, doesn't want to be on top of her and inside her just yet. He's been waiting for her so long that now he doesn't want to finish when he can drag things out for just a little bit longer.
(Wait until she wants him so much she pushes him down and takes him without questions.)
He can practically feel Elena's stare on his skin when he starts kissing his way down her body. She immediately guesses what he's doing, moves slightly to give him better access and murmurs with content, her hands holding on to the headboard behind her.
She managed to kick off her panties when she was undressing him, but Damon still kneels up before he lets her wrap her legs around his neck and slowly takes off her shoes.
The second he's done Elena's fingers are back in his hair, and she's urging him down, tugging like her life depended on it. It turns out Elena is loud, much louder than him, demanding and needy (alive, alive, Elena is alive). All Damon needs to do is close his eyes and listen to her body until he finds the right spot and the right speed. By the time he gets there he's so tuned in to her that he can hear blood in her veins, can feel the slightest twitch of muscles.
Elena laughs when she comes, laughs in a way that makes him feel a little dizzy, laughs and pulls him up for a kiss before he can wipe his mouth. He's a mess, his hair sticking up in every possible direction and his chin still wet from her, but he grins like an idiot when he hears her laugh, grins when she flips them over and kisses his neck.
Elena catches his wrists and pushes his hands behind his head. He doesn't even have enough time to be surprised, because then she starts kissing his chest. His heart skips a beat because suddenly he knows why she did it, knows what she's about to do, and he has to close his eyes if he doesn't want the show to be over before she even gets to his navel.
She kisses his ribs and his hips, and Damon opens his eyes just in time to see one of her hands fumbling with her long hair to keep it out of the way. Elena sighs impatiently as she tries twist it behind her back without taking her mouth off him. Eventually she gives up, looks up and shakes her head, her hair falling down her shoulders.
“Help me out?” she asks with an innocent smile, and Damon sits up slightly.
His hands are in her hair in a flash, holding in place the loose strands and massaging her scalp. Elena keeps eye contact when she takes him into her mouth. She's a little too fast at first, but then she relaxes her neck and adjusts her rhythm to the slightest movement of his fingers. Damon just can't stop staring: Elena Gilbert splayed comfortably on his legs, her mouth enveloping him without hesitation as her fingernails absently stroke the inside of his thigh.
It doesn't take long at all, and Damon tries to pull her away, give her a signal that he's close. Elena stops for a second, but she doesn't let go. She simply looks at him and nods, and Damon finds himself nodding as well. He lets her swallow him whole, he lets her because she wants to do it.
(Because he trusts her to do it, trusts her enough to let her witness how he frantically pushes his hips up to meet her mouth and how he can't catch a breath for a minute after he comes.)
Elena slides up his body lazily and doesn't even let him rest, she just kisses him again. She's tortuously slow now, tender and almost chaste. Elena likes to kiss, he remembers as his arms wrap loosely around her. The urgency is gone now, they're both relaxed and maybe a little bit sleepy, but they still can't stop touching each other. There's no reason why they would stop touching each other.
She straddles him as soon as he's ready again, sinks onto him carefully and braces herself against his chest before she starts moving. Damon gives her a few thrusts, but then he sits up. He kisses her collarbone, hoping for once that she won't push him back down. Maybe he even whispers something incoherent, because she lets him stay, rests her forearms on his shoulders and pulls him to her chest. It takes her some fumbling before she figures out how to move when he's so close, but once she picks up a rhythm, she never loses it. Damon is so completely surrounded by her he knows exactly when to slide a hand between them to help her. This climax is weaker, but Elena's mouth finds Damon's again as they shudder through it, grasping each other's hands.
Elena wraps herself in his shirt before she falls asleep.