everybody knows that i hate you except you
Title: everybody knows that i hate you except you
Pairing: Damon/Rebekah
Rating: NC-17
Warning: A bit of biting and blood.
Word Count: 1,300
Prompt: I wanted to be wanted and he was very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving. For fluffyfrolicker at the Damon Salvatore Comment Ficathon.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Note: Set mostly in a vague near-future. For the darkship table prompt second choice. These ficathons will be the death of me.
Damon kisses her like he means it.
It takes Rebekah by surprise, so much so that it steals her breath and makes her open her eyes, just to be sure that it is still Damon before her. Damon with his arm banded around her waist keeping her upright as they stumble through the back door of the Grill. Damon with his eyes closed and his tongue tasting of bourbon against hers.
But then she is quite lost in the way that he cups the back of her head in his hand before pushing her against the brick wall in the alley, kissing her hard and rucking up her skirts in his free hand. Her hips jerk forward when his knuckles graze the inside of her thigh. "Not here," she gasps, a mixed message.
He leans back to smirk at her, presses his hips forward so she can feel the hard length of him against her stomach. "Yeah." He licks his lips. "Okay."
He tears her dress to shreds and kisses her neck without using his teeth, the juxtaposition of violence and care intoxicating. She lets him do what he wants until she can't stand it any longer, digging her fingernails into his ass to urge him inside, setting the pace from beneath him.
The look on Elena's face when she sees Rebekah there in the morning is the proverbial icing on the cake.
*
Damon makes it easy to pretend, moving with her like it matters. Like she matters.
She supposes that for those minutes when they are alone together, she does.
*
He kisses a path down her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, his fingers skimming up to pluck at her nipple. "Don't tease," she orders sharply when he nips at her hipbone with blunt teeth.
He grins wickedly up at her, veins blooming beneath his eyes just before he sinks his fangs into the same place, making her cry out. "Better?" he rasps, her blood staining his lips crimson.
She knits her fingers into his hair and pulls, stopping just short of tearing the strands from his scalp. He doesn't protest; she feels the rumble of the moan in his chest against her thigh. "Not exactly what I had in mind," she tells him honestly.
His tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth, catching a drop of blood there. "Why don't you just take what you want then?"
She has him on his back in a second, her thighs bracketing his head and her cunt against his mouth. He hums his amusement against her, his eyes dark as he lashes her clit with his tongue, fast and unrelenting.
Rebekah braces herself against the headboard to stay upright. She is both completely in control and completely at his mercy, the pleasure building from the inside out, and her mind is blissfully empty of everything else.
She has so few moments like these that she can't be blamed for chasing them.
*
Sometimes he reminds her of Stefan.
She is nearly asleep, her legs still tangled with his, sweat dried on her skin, the sheets draped over her body. Damon is toying with her hair absently, her fingers slipping through the strands, pausing to gently disentangle a snarl.
The sense memory moves through her like an electrical current, and she is suddenly wide awake, her entire body tense.
"Stop that."
His lifts his hands in surrender when she opens her eyes to glare at him. "Fine."
Rebekah closes her eyes again, intending to sleep, so is caught off guard when he moves to pin her beneath him.
She bares her teeth when he buries his hand in her hair at the back of her head. "Can I still pull it?" he asks, tightening is grip until she tilts her head back with a gasp, desire flooding her body as quickly as the annoyance did before.
She wraps her hand around his throat and rears up to kiss him, more teeth than anything else. He is inside of her in moments, thrusting hard, his hands pulling at her, his teeth in her throat. He is fast and messy and mean.
And then he doesn't remind her of Stefan at all.
*
"Tell me you want me," she orders breathlessly, crying out when his fang pierces the curve of her breast.
He shifts, his cock sliding through her wetness, teasing. "You want me to lie?"
He's being mean, but it's only half a lie, she thinks; he may not want her, but he certainly wants to fuck her. "Yes." She slips a hand between them, positioning him at her entrance. "Lie."
He pushes inside hard and fast, his groan nearly as loud as her keening. "Want you," he mumbles. His thrusts are deep and slow, measured. Deliciously torturous. She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. "Fuck. Want--"
"Shut up." It sounds wrong coming from his mouth. She doesn't want to hear it any more.
He mutters another curse, then sinks his fangs into her shoulder, triggering an orgasm she doesn't expect, subtle and slow burning.
She waits until he's on the edge of his own release, his jaw tense and the rhythm of his hips faltering, then returns the favor, coming a second time with his groans in her ear and his blood on her tongue.
*
"Where have you been?" Nik asks. He is sitting in front of the window in the den; he doesn't look up from the sketchbook in his hand.
"Out." It is the first time since she started going to Damon that her brother has indicated that he's been aware of her absence. "What do you want?"
"I thought you'd have learned your lesson about fucking Salvatores by now," he says lightly, lowering the sketchpad to his lap and leaning back in his chair to look at her. She waits. "I need you to find Kol for me."
For once she feels no satisfaction in being right.
*
She drags Damon out of the Grill the night that she gets back from her search for her brother, shoving him against the wall in the alley and kissing him until they're both breathless.
"Welcome home, Rebekah," he murmurs, his gaze roving down her body, lingering at the low neckline of her top. She likes the way he says her name, lingering over it, drawing out the vowels.
She watches his eyes as he traces his fingertips along her collarbone. "Aren't you going to ask me where I've been?"
"Nope." Annoyance flares at the base of her throat. "I am going to fuck you so hard that you scream." He shrugs carelessly, leaning down to kiss her mouth.
She lowers her head, evading his kiss. "Is that your way of saying you missed me?"
He hums into her mouth, nipping at her lower lip. "Missed you in my bed."
Close enough.
*
"Aren't you tired of being Klaus' little bitch?" he asks her once.
She looks over at him, sprawled across his bed, unashamedly naked with a mean little smile on his lips. It is moments like these that remind her why this is all they will ever be.
"Aren't you tired of being a poor replacement for Stefan?" she retorts, turning to leave without waiting for a response.
He blurs to the door, blocking her exit. "If I'm such a poor replacement, why do you keep coming back, Rebekah?" He practically spits her name, as if it's bitter in his mouth.
She ignores the sting in her chest and rises onto her toes to whisper into his ear. "I was talking about Elena."
She doesn't look at his face before slipping past him to leave.
Pairing: Damon/Rebekah
Rating: NC-17
Warning: A bit of biting and blood.
Word Count: 1,300
Prompt: I wanted to be wanted and he was very beautiful, kissed with his eyes closed, and only felt good while moving. For fluffyfrolicker at the Damon Salvatore Comment Ficathon.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Note: Set mostly in a vague near-future. For the darkship table prompt second choice. These ficathons will be the death of me.
Damon kisses her like he means it.
It takes Rebekah by surprise, so much so that it steals her breath and makes her open her eyes, just to be sure that it is still Damon before her. Damon with his arm banded around her waist keeping her upright as they stumble through the back door of the Grill. Damon with his eyes closed and his tongue tasting of bourbon against hers.
But then she is quite lost in the way that he cups the back of her head in his hand before pushing her against the brick wall in the alley, kissing her hard and rucking up her skirts in his free hand. Her hips jerk forward when his knuckles graze the inside of her thigh. "Not here," she gasps, a mixed message.
He leans back to smirk at her, presses his hips forward so she can feel the hard length of him against her stomach. "Yeah." He licks his lips. "Okay."
He tears her dress to shreds and kisses her neck without using his teeth, the juxtaposition of violence and care intoxicating. She lets him do what he wants until she can't stand it any longer, digging her fingernails into his ass to urge him inside, setting the pace from beneath him.
The look on Elena's face when she sees Rebekah there in the morning is the proverbial icing on the cake.
*
Damon makes it easy to pretend, moving with her like it matters. Like she matters.
She supposes that for those minutes when they are alone together, she does.
*
He kisses a path down her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, his fingers skimming up to pluck at her nipple. "Don't tease," she orders sharply when he nips at her hipbone with blunt teeth.
He grins wickedly up at her, veins blooming beneath his eyes just before he sinks his fangs into the same place, making her cry out. "Better?" he rasps, her blood staining his lips crimson.
She knits her fingers into his hair and pulls, stopping just short of tearing the strands from his scalp. He doesn't protest; she feels the rumble of the moan in his chest against her thigh. "Not exactly what I had in mind," she tells him honestly.
His tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth, catching a drop of blood there. "Why don't you just take what you want then?"
She has him on his back in a second, her thighs bracketing his head and her cunt against his mouth. He hums his amusement against her, his eyes dark as he lashes her clit with his tongue, fast and unrelenting.
Rebekah braces herself against the headboard to stay upright. She is both completely in control and completely at his mercy, the pleasure building from the inside out, and her mind is blissfully empty of everything else.
She has so few moments like these that she can't be blamed for chasing them.
*
Sometimes he reminds her of Stefan.
She is nearly asleep, her legs still tangled with his, sweat dried on her skin, the sheets draped over her body. Damon is toying with her hair absently, her fingers slipping through the strands, pausing to gently disentangle a snarl.
The sense memory moves through her like an electrical current, and she is suddenly wide awake, her entire body tense.
"Stop that."
His lifts his hands in surrender when she opens her eyes to glare at him. "Fine."
Rebekah closes her eyes again, intending to sleep, so is caught off guard when he moves to pin her beneath him.
She bares her teeth when he buries his hand in her hair at the back of her head. "Can I still pull it?" he asks, tightening is grip until she tilts her head back with a gasp, desire flooding her body as quickly as the annoyance did before.
She wraps her hand around his throat and rears up to kiss him, more teeth than anything else. He is inside of her in moments, thrusting hard, his hands pulling at her, his teeth in her throat. He is fast and messy and mean.
And then he doesn't remind her of Stefan at all.
*
"Tell me you want me," she orders breathlessly, crying out when his fang pierces the curve of her breast.
He shifts, his cock sliding through her wetness, teasing. "You want me to lie?"
He's being mean, but it's only half a lie, she thinks; he may not want her, but he certainly wants to fuck her. "Yes." She slips a hand between them, positioning him at her entrance. "Lie."
He pushes inside hard and fast, his groan nearly as loud as her keening. "Want you," he mumbles. His thrusts are deep and slow, measured. Deliciously torturous. She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. "Fuck. Want--"
"Shut up." It sounds wrong coming from his mouth. She doesn't want to hear it any more.
He mutters another curse, then sinks his fangs into her shoulder, triggering an orgasm she doesn't expect, subtle and slow burning.
She waits until he's on the edge of his own release, his jaw tense and the rhythm of his hips faltering, then returns the favor, coming a second time with his groans in her ear and his blood on her tongue.
*
"Where have you been?" Nik asks. He is sitting in front of the window in the den; he doesn't look up from the sketchbook in his hand.
"Out." It is the first time since she started going to Damon that her brother has indicated that he's been aware of her absence. "What do you want?"
"I thought you'd have learned your lesson about fucking Salvatores by now," he says lightly, lowering the sketchpad to his lap and leaning back in his chair to look at her. She waits. "I need you to find Kol for me."
For once she feels no satisfaction in being right.
*
She drags Damon out of the Grill the night that she gets back from her search for her brother, shoving him against the wall in the alley and kissing him until they're both breathless.
"Welcome home, Rebekah," he murmurs, his gaze roving down her body, lingering at the low neckline of her top. She likes the way he says her name, lingering over it, drawing out the vowels.
She watches his eyes as he traces his fingertips along her collarbone. "Aren't you going to ask me where I've been?"
"Nope." Annoyance flares at the base of her throat. "I am going to fuck you so hard that you scream." He shrugs carelessly, leaning down to kiss her mouth.
She lowers her head, evading his kiss. "Is that your way of saying you missed me?"
He hums into her mouth, nipping at her lower lip. "Missed you in my bed."
Close enough.
*
"Aren't you tired of being Klaus' little bitch?" he asks her once.
She looks over at him, sprawled across his bed, unashamedly naked with a mean little smile on his lips. It is moments like these that remind her why this is all they will ever be.
"Aren't you tired of being a poor replacement for Stefan?" she retorts, turning to leave without waiting for a response.
He blurs to the door, blocking her exit. "If I'm such a poor replacement, why do you keep coming back, Rebekah?" He practically spits her name, as if it's bitter in his mouth.
She ignores the sting in her chest and rises onto her toes to whisper into his ear. "I was talking about Elena."
She doesn't look at his face before slipping past him to leave.