[fic] Universal
Title: Universal
Author: badboy_fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Elena POV; Damon/Elena
Word Count: ~700
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Spoilers: Everything through S3.
Summary: Elena's a bad, bad girl.
Author's notes: From shipperjunkie's prompt Elena is all 'fire bad, tree pretty' and the only thing she cares about for a little bit is fucking Damon, because nothing is easier than that, that was left at the Elena Gilbert ficathon that upupa_epops is hosting. [I know I should be finishing Gravity Hurts or working on my fic exchange fic. But we all know whose fault this is.]
She doesn't really remember the first time. A blur of compelled memories and anger (hers), smirks and shots of bourbon (his), and heat and sweat (theirs), it happens at vampire speed, at least in her mind. It's only later that he takes his time, that he finds every spot on her body that makes her gasp or moan or curse.
(He loves it when she curses.)
After a while it feels like it's always been this way, them against walls in the basement, on top of the freezer full of blood, in Stefan's room when he's not home. There's the time on the piano, when Damon's hands seem to mesmerize her and she just wants them to move over her body the way they do the black and white keys. Sure and quick, steady and rhythmic, slow and lingering. She wants them in all the ways, all the time. On her face, against her lips, teasing her nipples, inside her; damp as they fumble over her clitoris, suddenly not as precise, or careful, but trembling and needy.
Maybe she feels guilty the first time, the first twenty times. Maybe she thinks it was never like this with Stefan. Maybe she doesn't love Damon, and that's why. Maybe, if you take love out of it, life is easier to live.
(Maybe she should have figured that out when she was still alive.)
Now, she only feels real and there are only glimpses of truth in those moments with him. When her conscience rages under his lips, he shushes it. When self-reproach would be her normal path, he redirects her; her fingers against the soft hair below his navel, her mouth around his cock, her eyes on his as he shoves himself inside her.
(Damon has always been good at choosing to believe whatever he wants to, so he shows her how.)
She tells herself it's just with her heightened eyesight, he seems so much more lovely. Now his eyes seem bluer, and they seem to ooze love in a way that all she can do is sop it up as quickly as possible. No one else will ever look at her that way again. Only Damon, always Damon, the only one who will love her no matter what she does, or who she kills, or whether she fucks him blind. Her ears can hear sounds they never did before, the sigh of her name on his lips, the grunt of his release, deep in her bones, the way he longs for her...yes, she can even hear that now, though it's a soundless ache that radiates out of him.
She tells herself that when she was human, it was all there and she could ignore it, but now, now it's impossible to escape.
(The truth is, he loves her more now that she's like him, now that she can't hide that she's like him, now that she can't hide that she wants him, now, more than ever because she has to have him even though it will destroy the carefully crafted world around her.)
She cries his name as he shoves her up against the glass wall in his shower, as his hand parts her legs, slipping over her ass to lift her up so he can slide in behind her, slide into her. He is huge, always, filling her beyond what she can take, always giving her more than she needs, more than she deserves, more than she wants.
She can see them both in the mirror; she looks like the submissive one because he's got her pinned down, but she knows she holds all the power.
She always did. (Human.)
She always will. (Vampire.)
(It's the one thing that stayed the same. Her transition didn't change that fact at all. So she can never let it go.)
Author: badboy_fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Elena POV; Damon/Elena
Word Count: ~700
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Spoilers: Everything through S3.
Summary: Elena's a bad, bad girl.
Author's notes: From shipperjunkie's prompt Elena is all 'fire bad, tree pretty' and the only thing she cares about for a little bit is fucking Damon, because nothing is easier than that, that was left at the Elena Gilbert ficathon that upupa_epops is hosting. [I know I should be finishing Gravity Hurts or working on my fic exchange fic. But we all know whose fault this is.]
She doesn't really remember the first time. A blur of compelled memories and anger (hers), smirks and shots of bourbon (his), and heat and sweat (theirs), it happens at vampire speed, at least in her mind. It's only later that he takes his time, that he finds every spot on her body that makes her gasp or moan or curse.
(He loves it when she curses.)
After a while it feels like it's always been this way, them against walls in the basement, on top of the freezer full of blood, in Stefan's room when he's not home. There's the time on the piano, when Damon's hands seem to mesmerize her and she just wants them to move over her body the way they do the black and white keys. Sure and quick, steady and rhythmic, slow and lingering. She wants them in all the ways, all the time. On her face, against her lips, teasing her nipples, inside her; damp as they fumble over her clitoris, suddenly not as precise, or careful, but trembling and needy.
Maybe she feels guilty the first time, the first twenty times. Maybe she thinks it was never like this with Stefan. Maybe she doesn't love Damon, and that's why. Maybe, if you take love out of it, life is easier to live.
(Maybe she should have figured that out when she was still alive.)
Now, she only feels real and there are only glimpses of truth in those moments with him. When her conscience rages under his lips, he shushes it. When self-reproach would be her normal path, he redirects her; her fingers against the soft hair below his navel, her mouth around his cock, her eyes on his as he shoves himself inside her.
(Damon has always been good at choosing to believe whatever he wants to, so he shows her how.)
She tells herself it's just with her heightened eyesight, he seems so much more lovely. Now his eyes seem bluer, and they seem to ooze love in a way that all she can do is sop it up as quickly as possible. No one else will ever look at her that way again. Only Damon, always Damon, the only one who will love her no matter what she does, or who she kills, or whether she fucks him blind. Her ears can hear sounds they never did before, the sigh of her name on his lips, the grunt of his release, deep in her bones, the way he longs for her...yes, she can even hear that now, though it's a soundless ache that radiates out of him.
She tells herself that when she was human, it was all there and she could ignore it, but now, now it's impossible to escape.
(The truth is, he loves her more now that she's like him, now that she can't hide that she's like him, now that she can't hide that she wants him, now, more than ever because she has to have him even though it will destroy the carefully crafted world around her.)
She cries his name as he shoves her up against the glass wall in his shower, as his hand parts her legs, slipping over her ass to lift her up so he can slide in behind her, slide into her. He is huge, always, filling her beyond what she can take, always giving her more than she needs, more than she deserves, more than she wants.
She can see them both in the mirror; she looks like the submissive one because he's got her pinned down, but she knows she holds all the power.
She always did. (Human.)
She always will. (Vampire.)
(It's the one thing that stayed the same. Her transition didn't change that fact at all. So she can never let it go.)