First (Damon/Elena)
Title: First
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: rough sex, general angst
Wordcount: 900
Characters/Pairings: Damon/Elena
Spoilers: 4x09
Summary: Later, there will be time for kissing, time for indulgence and exploration, but there's something she needs done first, she isn't even sure why. She just needs it done.
A/N: magisterequitum demanded a fic in which Elena and Damon celebrate the fact that the sire bond doesn't exist by having oral sex for a week. Yeah, that's not exactly what came out... Note to self: do NOT attempt write comfort fic while high on flu meds, it never ends well.
First
Elena isn't entirely sure how she makes it to Damon's bedroom.
It's dumb luck that he's there, really, because she didn't even bother to check. She simply assumed he'd be exactly where she expected him to be, and here he was, just like old times, before he started avoiding her.
She knows he knows the second she hears his steps, all chaotic and just a little too quick, so she barges in without knocking.
There're probably things they should say. Explanations are in order, stories and maybe even apologies, but when Elena sees Damon's face, she realizes no talking will happen today, not when they both can't utter anything smarter than “So, no bond, huh?”.
Talking is for tomorrow.
Right now they're stuck in a battle of wills, because suddenly he can say whatever he wants, and she can do whatever she wants, no questions and no doubts. So Elena deliberately closes the distance between them and goes straight for Damon's shirt, slowly undoes button by button. Later, there will be time for kissing, time for indulgence and exploration, but there's something she needs done first, she isn't even sure why. She just needs it done.
As soon as they're both naked, she pushes Damon into the nearest armchair and sinks down on her knees.
He tries to protest, but before he can get more than two words out, she takes him into her mouth. This is nothing like she imagined, nothing at all: he is tense, and she can't quite make things work, keeps not hitting any right spots at all. She tries to remember how he likes it, but the two times she went down on him are all blurry in her memory, almost like they happened in a dream.
Maybe it was a dream after all, she thinks, that one time she was so happy and alive. Right now, she doesn't even have the energy to celebrate.
So she sets a punishing rhythm, and okay, perhaps she is trying to punish him just a little bit, punish him for not believing her and for leaving her. Elena sucks way harder than she should, and Damon arches into her mouth like he deserves it, deserves every push and pull, every brutal stroke that makes him harder and harder.
Perhaps she's trying to punish him more than just a little bit.
He takes it all without blinking, holds her hair back for her so she can go harder. At some point Elena gets so angry she could bite his dick off, but that's when he starts coming, his fingers clutching her head like hers are clutching his hips, and suddenly she isn't angry any more, she's sad, tired and maybe a little ashamed. She's not supposed to be this person, but somehow this is who she always is with him. She doesn't even want to know what it says about her.
“I'm sorry,” she tries to whisper, but her lips are too sore and stiff, so she simply looks up. Damon's eyes are fixed on her the way they always are, and he gives her a nod.
They're in this together.
He slides off the armchair and kneels on the floor next to her, kisses her cheek so softly she can barely feel it. This is when she understands that there will be no celebration between them today, no apologies or confessions of love. They have something to take care of first.
She follows Damon's shaking hands and lies down, lets him kiss her neck and arms and breasts exactly like he needs it. It's almost like he's trying to touch every inch of her body, reach everywhere with his tongue and his lips.
“It will take you ages to get me off like this, you know,” she warns before she can think better of it. Damon lets out a sharp laugh.
“That's the point,” he mutters against her ribs.
He kisses like he wanted to drown in her, lose himself and melt until there's nothing left but her gasps and moans. It takes Elena a while to figure out that he wants directions, wants her to talk to him and guide him. It feels awkward at first, because she's never been a talker, but she tries it anyway.
“Do it again,” she whimpers when he licks her hip.
She gets bolder after every sentence, demands that Damon goes slower and harder, holds on to his hair to pull him closer. After Elena wraps her legs around Damon's neck, she loses track of time. Her world gets reduced to his tongue and to her own voice, the voice she just got back and will use even if it kills her. Damon is whispering her name between kisses like it's a blessing, lifting her hips up to bring her closer to his mouth. Later, there will be time for playfulness, time for teasing and talking, but now Elena bites her lip so hard she tastes blood when she comes. Damon holds on to her for dear life and suddenly she thinks she understands why.
“I will never leave you again,” she wants to tell him when she stops shaking, but her throat is raw after all the screams, so she simply touches his wet cheek instead.
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: rough sex, general angst
Wordcount: 900
Characters/Pairings: Damon/Elena
Spoilers: 4x09
Summary: Later, there will be time for kissing, time for indulgence and exploration, but there's something she needs done first, she isn't even sure why. She just needs it done.
A/N: magisterequitum demanded a fic in which Elena and Damon celebrate the fact that the sire bond doesn't exist by having oral sex for a week. Yeah, that's not exactly what came out... Note to self: do NOT attempt write comfort fic while high on flu meds, it never ends well.
First
Elena isn't entirely sure how she makes it to Damon's bedroom.
It's dumb luck that he's there, really, because she didn't even bother to check. She simply assumed he'd be exactly where she expected him to be, and here he was, just like old times, before he started avoiding her.
She knows he knows the second she hears his steps, all chaotic and just a little too quick, so she barges in without knocking.
There're probably things they should say. Explanations are in order, stories and maybe even apologies, but when Elena sees Damon's face, she realizes no talking will happen today, not when they both can't utter anything smarter than “So, no bond, huh?”.
Talking is for tomorrow.
Right now they're stuck in a battle of wills, because suddenly he can say whatever he wants, and she can do whatever she wants, no questions and no doubts. So Elena deliberately closes the distance between them and goes straight for Damon's shirt, slowly undoes button by button. Later, there will be time for kissing, time for indulgence and exploration, but there's something she needs done first, she isn't even sure why. She just needs it done.
As soon as they're both naked, she pushes Damon into the nearest armchair and sinks down on her knees.
He tries to protest, but before he can get more than two words out, she takes him into her mouth. This is nothing like she imagined, nothing at all: he is tense, and she can't quite make things work, keeps not hitting any right spots at all. She tries to remember how he likes it, but the two times she went down on him are all blurry in her memory, almost like they happened in a dream.
Maybe it was a dream after all, she thinks, that one time she was so happy and alive. Right now, she doesn't even have the energy to celebrate.
So she sets a punishing rhythm, and okay, perhaps she is trying to punish him just a little bit, punish him for not believing her and for leaving her. Elena sucks way harder than she should, and Damon arches into her mouth like he deserves it, deserves every push and pull, every brutal stroke that makes him harder and harder.
Perhaps she's trying to punish him more than just a little bit.
He takes it all without blinking, holds her hair back for her so she can go harder. At some point Elena gets so angry she could bite his dick off, but that's when he starts coming, his fingers clutching her head like hers are clutching his hips, and suddenly she isn't angry any more, she's sad, tired and maybe a little ashamed. She's not supposed to be this person, but somehow this is who she always is with him. She doesn't even want to know what it says about her.
“I'm sorry,” she tries to whisper, but her lips are too sore and stiff, so she simply looks up. Damon's eyes are fixed on her the way they always are, and he gives her a nod.
They're in this together.
He slides off the armchair and kneels on the floor next to her, kisses her cheek so softly she can barely feel it. This is when she understands that there will be no celebration between them today, no apologies or confessions of love. They have something to take care of first.
She follows Damon's shaking hands and lies down, lets him kiss her neck and arms and breasts exactly like he needs it. It's almost like he's trying to touch every inch of her body, reach everywhere with his tongue and his lips.
“It will take you ages to get me off like this, you know,” she warns before she can think better of it. Damon lets out a sharp laugh.
“That's the point,” he mutters against her ribs.
He kisses like he wanted to drown in her, lose himself and melt until there's nothing left but her gasps and moans. It takes Elena a while to figure out that he wants directions, wants her to talk to him and guide him. It feels awkward at first, because she's never been a talker, but she tries it anyway.
“Do it again,” she whimpers when he licks her hip.
She gets bolder after every sentence, demands that Damon goes slower and harder, holds on to his hair to pull him closer. After Elena wraps her legs around Damon's neck, she loses track of time. Her world gets reduced to his tongue and to her own voice, the voice she just got back and will use even if it kills her. Damon is whispering her name between kisses like it's a blessing, lifting her hips up to bring her closer to his mouth. Later, there will be time for playfulness, time for teasing and talking, but now Elena bites her lip so hard she tastes blood when she comes. Damon holds on to her for dear life and suddenly she thinks she understands why.
“I will never leave you again,” she wants to tell him when she stops shaking, but her throat is raw after all the screams, so she simply touches his wet cheek instead.