Flashfic the second! "The night is dark and full of dreams," Elena/Klaus/Stefan (Vampire Diaries)
And then I wrote a follow-up flashfic thing. Which maybe this time is actually sexy.
Title: The night is dark and full of dreams
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Pairings: Elena/Stefan/Klaus
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 1,200
Content notes: Some issues of consent, albeit in a dream; double penetration.
A/N: Written for Porn Battle XIV for the prompt, "Elena Gilbert/Klaus Mikaelson/Stefan Salvatore, share," and posted there. Follows In This Together, but you don't have to read that first. This one is also related to ep 3x5, "The Reckoning."
Elena dreams about that night in the gym. Mostly nightmares. (She's had a lot of nightmares these last few years.) But one time, it's a completely different kind of dream. Erotic. She doesn't know what's wrong with her, but instead of being disgusted, she wakes up sweating with an ache between her legs. From the smell of her fingers, she's been touching herself.
It shouldn't arouse her, because in it, Stefan is the Ripper. Holding her down and staring at her like she's a nameless body and he's deciding whether to drain her or have his way with her first. And because Klaus is there. Not watching this time, but participating. Touching her and fucking her in turns with Stefan. She's naked on a wrestling mat and she's at their mercy, struggling fruitlessly against the strength of two vampires who are obsessed with her, lit up inside by a mess of excitement and terror and anticipation. By a thrill of how wrong it is that this is happening-and that some part of her likes it.
In retrospect, it's a flow of images, sensations and emotions more than a coherent series of events. Hands on her wrists, her inner thighs. A mouth between her legs, a tongue, fingers. Stefan. How quickly the coolness of his body transforms to match the heat of hers. Even though he's the Ripper now, he hasn't forgotten how to wind her up. Only his attitude is different: smug, controlling. He works her until she's undulating with the rhythm of his movements. Suddenly there's the sting of fangs at the crease of her groin and she tries to twist away. Klaus laughing. Stefan pulling free, mouth stained red, taking the first turn at Klaus' insistence. Gripping her hips, staring into her eyes-it's mesmerizing, the intensity, Stefan and not-Stefan at the same time, and her heart trips with the anticipation of what he's going to do-then driving into her with a stroke that's long and full and the absolute perfect balance of glide and friction. There's no pause to let her adjust; he thrusts and thrusts and grips and stares and it's all she can do to hold on for the ride.
She doesn't realize she's been making noises until Klaus silences her with a kiss. It should be disgusting and awkward, upside-down as it is because he's leaning in from where he's perched behind her, but it's deep and passionate and sends a shock through her. She's kissing Klaus. She's kissing Klaus, and it's good. More than that. It's one of the best makeout sessions she's ever had. An onslaught of lips and tongue and stubble that ratchets up from great to perfect when he swings around to cradle the sides of her head and kiss her face-up, and she should be trying to get away from here but all her body wants to do is curve into everything. She's clutching at his shoulders.
Then it's Klaus's cock in her mouth instead of his tongue, his buttocks flexing under her hands, and she's sucking and licking while he moans somewhere above her. Klaus who's her enemy filling her mouth and Stefan who's suppressed inside himself filling her cunt, like they're two pistons going at different speeds, the air thick with the smell of sex, and her head is whirling.
Then she's lying full-body on top of Stefan while he continues to push into her, holding her to his chest in an embrace as unforgiving as an iron cage, her legs spread wide across his rising hips, and Klaus is behind her, on top of her, inside her, inside her ass, sliding slowly in as Stefan pulls out, then slowly out again as Stefan drives in. She writhes between them, sandwiched. Klaus's chest at her back and his breath in her ear, bearing her down nose to nose with Stefan. In-out, out-in. "I've wanted you like this for years," Stefan says, which doesn't make sense. A glimpse of his disturbing Ripper-grin before he grabs her hair and pulls her in for a mash of a kiss. Klaus murmuring English-accented endearments to her, making her stomach twist, as his hand traces down her thigh, up between her legs as best he can since they're all tangled together, tracing the taut, sensitive skin where they're doing this unspeakable thing to her. In-out, out-in. Stefan's tongue in her mouth, his hand in her hair, her arms trapped at her sides, useless fists, her breasts rocking into his chest as they move in her. Desperate for Klaus to slide his hand further forward around Stefan's cock and touch her where she needs it, but unwilling to say it out loud. She can't even arch to indicate what she wants, she's pressed so securely on all sides. She's going to burst out of her skin.
A mouth at her throat. Stefan again. She rears back, or tries to, but Klaus is there. Mouth at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Bookends. "On three, eh, Ripper?" Klaus says into her skin, and the sight of Stefan's fangs makes her suck in a breath. Then they're breaching her with teeth as well as cocks and she's lost. Pain and suction and tongues and hands and still that maddening empty-full, full-empty pleasure-pressure-slide between her legs, and she's shaking all over, spiraling toward a climax.
Suddenly she's sitting up with Stefan behind her, pulling her back into his chest with one arm, the other wandering across her breasts and belly, still nuzzling at her neck, and it's Klaus's head between her legs, her knees over his shoulders, the drag of his stubble a delicious counterpoint to the slickness of his fingers inside her and his lips pulling at her clit. Staring at her while he works, head bobbing. Not letting her forget who's doing this to her.
"Don't," she hears herself say, and the dream starts to dissolve around her. With a spike of panicked realization, she tries to stay in it. She's so close. She wills Stefan to press a hand over her mouth because she promises to stay quiet if only she can finish this dream.
But it's no use. She's in bed. Awake. Alone. Practically vibrating. After a second of indecision, she reaches down and squeezes her eyes shut, trying to hold on to images and sensations. Stefan saying "I've wanted you like this." The kiss with Klaus. The feel of their hard bodies above and below and around her. Inside her. Klaus's eyes. And that's it, she's almost there, almost-there, pressing her face into the pillow to muffle the sound she makes when she comes. Muffling the sob she can't hold back at the knowledge that she just got off on dreaming about having sex with Klaus, who wants to use her as a living blood bag. At the memory of what it used to be like to have sex with Stefan before everything fell apart.
She regains control of herself. Takes a deep breath and straightens the sheets around her. Closes her eyes, determined to fall back asleep and forget that some part of her mind wanted to have this dream.
Determined not to admit that she wants to have it again.
Title: The night is dark and full of dreams
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Pairings: Elena/Stefan/Klaus
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 1,200
Content notes: Some issues of consent, albeit in a dream; double penetration.
A/N: Written for Porn Battle XIV for the prompt, "Elena Gilbert/Klaus Mikaelson/Stefan Salvatore, share," and posted there. Follows In This Together, but you don't have to read that first. This one is also related to ep 3x5, "The Reckoning."
Elena dreams about that night in the gym. Mostly nightmares. (She's had a lot of nightmares these last few years.) But one time, it's a completely different kind of dream. Erotic. She doesn't know what's wrong with her, but instead of being disgusted, she wakes up sweating with an ache between her legs. From the smell of her fingers, she's been touching herself.
It shouldn't arouse her, because in it, Stefan is the Ripper. Holding her down and staring at her like she's a nameless body and he's deciding whether to drain her or have his way with her first. And because Klaus is there. Not watching this time, but participating. Touching her and fucking her in turns with Stefan. She's naked on a wrestling mat and she's at their mercy, struggling fruitlessly against the strength of two vampires who are obsessed with her, lit up inside by a mess of excitement and terror and anticipation. By a thrill of how wrong it is that this is happening-and that some part of her likes it.
In retrospect, it's a flow of images, sensations and emotions more than a coherent series of events. Hands on her wrists, her inner thighs. A mouth between her legs, a tongue, fingers. Stefan. How quickly the coolness of his body transforms to match the heat of hers. Even though he's the Ripper now, he hasn't forgotten how to wind her up. Only his attitude is different: smug, controlling. He works her until she's undulating with the rhythm of his movements. Suddenly there's the sting of fangs at the crease of her groin and she tries to twist away. Klaus laughing. Stefan pulling free, mouth stained red, taking the first turn at Klaus' insistence. Gripping her hips, staring into her eyes-it's mesmerizing, the intensity, Stefan and not-Stefan at the same time, and her heart trips with the anticipation of what he's going to do-then driving into her with a stroke that's long and full and the absolute perfect balance of glide and friction. There's no pause to let her adjust; he thrusts and thrusts and grips and stares and it's all she can do to hold on for the ride.
She doesn't realize she's been making noises until Klaus silences her with a kiss. It should be disgusting and awkward, upside-down as it is because he's leaning in from where he's perched behind her, but it's deep and passionate and sends a shock through her. She's kissing Klaus. She's kissing Klaus, and it's good. More than that. It's one of the best makeout sessions she's ever had. An onslaught of lips and tongue and stubble that ratchets up from great to perfect when he swings around to cradle the sides of her head and kiss her face-up, and she should be trying to get away from here but all her body wants to do is curve into everything. She's clutching at his shoulders.
Then it's Klaus's cock in her mouth instead of his tongue, his buttocks flexing under her hands, and she's sucking and licking while he moans somewhere above her. Klaus who's her enemy filling her mouth and Stefan who's suppressed inside himself filling her cunt, like they're two pistons going at different speeds, the air thick with the smell of sex, and her head is whirling.
Then she's lying full-body on top of Stefan while he continues to push into her, holding her to his chest in an embrace as unforgiving as an iron cage, her legs spread wide across his rising hips, and Klaus is behind her, on top of her, inside her, inside her ass, sliding slowly in as Stefan pulls out, then slowly out again as Stefan drives in. She writhes between them, sandwiched. Klaus's chest at her back and his breath in her ear, bearing her down nose to nose with Stefan. In-out, out-in. "I've wanted you like this for years," Stefan says, which doesn't make sense. A glimpse of his disturbing Ripper-grin before he grabs her hair and pulls her in for a mash of a kiss. Klaus murmuring English-accented endearments to her, making her stomach twist, as his hand traces down her thigh, up between her legs as best he can since they're all tangled together, tracing the taut, sensitive skin where they're doing this unspeakable thing to her. In-out, out-in. Stefan's tongue in her mouth, his hand in her hair, her arms trapped at her sides, useless fists, her breasts rocking into his chest as they move in her. Desperate for Klaus to slide his hand further forward around Stefan's cock and touch her where she needs it, but unwilling to say it out loud. She can't even arch to indicate what she wants, she's pressed so securely on all sides. She's going to burst out of her skin.
A mouth at her throat. Stefan again. She rears back, or tries to, but Klaus is there. Mouth at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Bookends. "On three, eh, Ripper?" Klaus says into her skin, and the sight of Stefan's fangs makes her suck in a breath. Then they're breaching her with teeth as well as cocks and she's lost. Pain and suction and tongues and hands and still that maddening empty-full, full-empty pleasure-pressure-slide between her legs, and she's shaking all over, spiraling toward a climax.
Suddenly she's sitting up with Stefan behind her, pulling her back into his chest with one arm, the other wandering across her breasts and belly, still nuzzling at her neck, and it's Klaus's head between her legs, her knees over his shoulders, the drag of his stubble a delicious counterpoint to the slickness of his fingers inside her and his lips pulling at her clit. Staring at her while he works, head bobbing. Not letting her forget who's doing this to her.
"Don't," she hears herself say, and the dream starts to dissolve around her. With a spike of panicked realization, she tries to stay in it. She's so close. She wills Stefan to press a hand over her mouth because she promises to stay quiet if only she can finish this dream.
But it's no use. She's in bed. Awake. Alone. Practically vibrating. After a second of indecision, she reaches down and squeezes her eyes shut, trying to hold on to images and sensations. Stefan saying "I've wanted you like this." The kiss with Klaus. The feel of their hard bodies above and below and around her. Inside her. Klaus's eyes. And that's it, she's almost there, almost-there, pressing her face into the pillow to muffle the sound she makes when she comes. Muffling the sob she can't hold back at the knowledge that she just got off on dreaming about having sex with Klaus, who wants to use her as a living blood bag. At the memory of what it used to be like to have sex with Stefan before everything fell apart.
She regains control of herself. Takes a deep breath and straightens the sheets around her. Closes her eyes, determined to fall back asleep and forget that some part of her mind wanted to have this dream.
Determined not to admit that she wants to have it again.