A/N: This fantasy stems from if the episode had ended with this scene... Meaning 3.16
Alaric enters the room and I know that stern yet soft look on his face. "Elena, I am thankful that you cared about finding out the truth. But I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."
He leans over couch and I see the muscles in his arms tense. I just nod to get him to stop talking about this. He won't change my mind.
"I mean it, Elena. I can't have you in any remote kind of danger. The thought of you getting hurt in any way, of ever losing you..."
And at that moment tears begin to form in my eyes because I know exactly what he is talking about, that I feel the exact same way. Alaric is my one solid constant. Jeremy, my Stefan, my parents, Jenna - all gone. I can't bear the thought of losing Alaric too.
Alaric rushes to the front of the couch and kneels before me, his hands on my knees. "Elena, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Are you okay?"
"Yes, yes of course... I'm just, I'm just so glad that you're alright. If you weren't..."
"But I am!" A smile forms on his lips, an attempt to lighten the mood, just as he always does. In that moment my emotions take over and I lean in to kiss him. After seconds of indulgence he pulls away short of breath, shaking his head. I can tell that he has been shaken, "Elena... What are we doing... We can't. I can't."
He gets up and turns to walk away, "I'm so sorry... I've got to go."
I grab his wrist and stand up myself. There's urgency in my voice and a tone of desperation, "Alaric, please, I need you. You can't tell me that you don't feel the same."
I can see the struggle in his eyes and watch his inner struggle unfold. I touch his face like he's the most breakable glass. His eyes close as he leans into my hand and sighs. Our lips touch, but just barely. Sparks ignite where our skin touches.
My mind isn't on stefan now. Only on making Alaric whole again. But I need him too. His warmth. This isn't one-sided desperation.
Our bodies become closer, my arms around his neck, fingers running through his hair. Attempting to bring him closer, closer, closer. His arms surround me, entangle me, making us one. He is everything that the Salvatores aren't: vulnerable, warm, human.
I break the kiss long enough to look into his eyes, filled with desire, and breathe out, "I need more of you". I can see he understands exactly what I'm saying when he leans down to kiss my forehead and scoops me into his arms in one quick motion. I let out a giggle and take hold of his neck as he carries me up the stairs.
He opens the door to my room and gently lays me down on my bed. I lean back on my elbows to watch him take off his shirt. My body immediately feels like it's been lit on fire; a high that i haven't felt in a long time. He makes his way to me and kisses me good and slow. The kiss is perfect and consumes me. Our bodies mold to each other, we fit exactly. His lips are working to mend the destruction that my life has become. I realize that Alaric is my antidote.
He isn't just comfort for me, but as we continue kissing he becomes something more, something animalistic starts to stir inside of me. There is an edge to him, and I want to feel more. So I deepen the kiss and leave him panting. He watches with want as I push him to the bed and begin to strip. I watch his eyes devour my body and it drives me to continue, to give him more. My core is drenched and more than ready for him. Looking at his perfect body reminds me of how much of a man Alaric is. And also how quickly I've been forced to grow up. A year ago I never could have imagined sleeping with a grown man, but right now Alaric is exactly what I need.
We both seem to understand that words could never suffice for voicing our thoughts in this intimate moment, so we have somehow agreed that our bodies are more than capable of doing the talking. I crawl to him on my knees. He has awoken something inside of me that has never seen the light. I need him in the most primal way. My lips crash into his as his calloused hands grip my ass and I grind into him. He reaches for the strap of my bra and rips it from my body. The room is filled with panting, grasping, grinding. It's not enough. I need more. He sucks harshly on my nipple and my nails scratch his back, nearly drawing blood. I'm growing impatient and reach for his belt and begin to hastily unbuckle it. With no more barriers between us he leans me into the pillows and I try to mentally prepare myself for him.
It's all built up to this moment, so I don't quite understand why I'm getting so nervous and self conscious now. Alaric seems to pick up on my uncertainty and brings his thumb to my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. His eyes tell me everything that he is thinking: you are gorgeous, sensual, flawless, and I want you. Not a facade or someone you pretend to be, but the imperfect Elena that I love. We kiss as I pull his chest close to mine and feel his hardness press into my thigh. This elicits a moan from my mouth and his attaches to my neck. Working every body part of mine that he can. His hands find mine; our fingers interlock and he brings our hands to rest above my head on the pillows.
He pushes into me: slowly at first, so that I can adjust to his magnitude. He is gentle, but once he sees that I'm alright he begins to build momentum. Our bodies feel like one and he's hitting that perfect spot, the one that transforms my insides to honey. He's pounding into me and I'm begging for more. Because he's pushing just enough to make it feel like an old bruise that you forgot you had; the pain is just there on the edge, light enough to slip your mind but still there to remember. And Alaric makes it okay.
After we go as far as we possibly can we lay there, still connected, with sweat gleaming on our worn out bodies. Our fingers never separating. We have reached the point of no return, there is no turning back to whatever we were before tonight. And honestly, I could not be more at peace.