Music Fic Meme

[desertions]

So basically, I need to jumpstart my writing muse more, and the one word prompts aren't doing it for me at the moment. So this is my proposal.

First twenty people to claim a pairing will get a fic based on whatever song happens to come up on my iPod. It may not be a long fic, it may be more drabble-esque, but it will be something. Feel free to request ship ships, sibling ships, friendships, hateships, whatever. Crossover, canon, gameverses. You request it, I'll see what I can do.

Comments

[reaction]

Rebekah and Damon, please. <3

Do What I Say And I'll Make You Okay - Damon/Rebekah - 743 words

[easily]

so I guess this fic exists in some world where Rebekah didn't kill Elena in the finale. So there's that.

Inspired by this song.

-

Rebekah wasn't expecting company that night, wasn't looking for it. Elijah had already left town, advising her to do the same. Alaric was still on the loose, after all. But she was tired of running. She had spent her whole life running and for what? Niklaus was still dead. She was still alone. She supposed she should get used to it.

She was sitting in some dank bar (not the Grill, she didn't feel like running into Matt or anyone else) trying to drown her sorrows when she heard a familiar snarky voice behind her.
"You know, they say that turning alcohol in your time of need is the first signs of a problem."

She didn't have to look up to see the smirk playing on his face.
"What do you want, Damon?" Her voice was short. She wasn't in the mood to deal with him (or anyone, really).

When she finally looked up she saw him pressing his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. "Can't I just be checking up on you, one concerned vampire to another?"

"No. Nothing is ever that simple with you." Perhaps at one point, she would have trusted those words, but she knew better now, had learned her lesson after the whole fiasco with Sage.

"Careful," He warned with a tsking voice. "You should be nicer to the guy who helped save you."

And she remembered now, Damon holding her back as she cried, watching Alaric kill her favorite brother. He could have easily allowed her to die as well.

But he didn't.

"Fine," She conceded. "If you're going to insist on bothering me, the least you can do is buy the next round."

--

She wasn't how it happened, her ending up in his bed again. She had sworn never to degrade herself like that again after he used her and let Sage invade her mind. But she was lonely, and he seemed to be too. She would hear later Elena made her choice (Stefan, no surprises there) and so here she was playing the consolation prize as she felt him move inside her.
But she couldn't get mad at him, not really.

After all, she was using him just as well. The harsh way he held her, thrusted inside of her, bit at her neck, it was almost enough to dull out the ache of loss.

Almost.

--

It became something of a ritual between them. They'd both end up at the same bar, drink too much, banter with one another, and then eventually end up in his bed. It was always his bed. She never took him back to the Mikealson mansion. She couldn't get herself to go back, honestly. That was the home Nik had built for all of them.

But as he would say, that's all ruined now, isn't it.

--

Some nights were better than others. Some nights, she'd burst into tears in the middle of sex, ruining everything.

Surprisingly, he never judged her for it, but instead seemed determined to make her forget whatever was making him sad.

She supposed it made sense that if anyone would understand being too attached to one's sibling, it would be Damon Salvatore.

--

She eventually decided to leave town. She told him as much as she pulled her dress back on, smoothing out any wrinkles.

"It's about time," He quipped with that infuriating grin of his on his lips. "Here I was beginning to think you were falling for me again."

She rolled her eyes, throwing a pillow at his face. "Hardly." She wasn't that stupid. Not this time. Though he had given her companionship when she needed it most, and for that she was grateful (she'd never say so out loud though).

"Well, good for you. Go off, see the world. Enjoy the freedom of not having your brother pull you around on a leash." That earned him a glare that he simply shrugged off, pouring himself a glass of scotch. "But if you're ever back in town and want another roll in the sack, you know where to find me."

"I do." And she paused for a moment before leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. It was softer, more sincere than anything else they had shared between one another. And then she pulled back. "Thank you."

He just looked confused at that. "For what? I didn't do anything."

But he didn't get any answer. She was already gone.