A/N: Good morning! First off, THANK EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU (YOU TOO, GUEST REVIEWERS, BECAUSE A LOT OF THIS WAS YOU) FOR GETTING US TO 1000 REVIEWS! I literally screamed last night when that happened, just so so honored. Now, to be honest, I was going to be a super super meany goldnox and post a joke chapter today for April Fool's, but I am deciding against it because you guys are so amazing. Instead, we are having SURPRISE DOUBLE UPDATE DAY! WHOOOOOOO!

As no surprise, all my crazy glittery love to my beta, Trogdor19, who is the queen of cool and the wielder of the great and powerful machete, which has hacked more chapters than I want to think about, including this one, but it always comes out for the best. Wish all haircuts worked like that ;)

Enjoy!

Chapter 17: What We Wear

Elena grabs a t-shirt off a hanger and makes her way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, while I'm left fantasizing about exactly what is underneath that dress on the other side of that closed door and the woman is just cruel to do this to me.

"Um, Damon?" she asks hesitatingly from inside the bathroom, and the corner of my lips perks up.

"Um, Elena?"

"If I ask you for a favor, do you promise not to make me regret it?"

I snort. "Sure thing."

The door opens and she pokes her head out. "I think my zipper is stuck."

I crack my knuckles with a smug grin. "My specialty."

She rolls her eyes at me as I get up from the bed, walking over to her and twirling my finger in the motion to turn around. She opens the door just a little more and shows me her back, her hair swept to the side, and I think my heart stalled.

"See?"

All I see are the tips of her fingers as she reaches behind her to grab the zipper on her dress. But it's centered just beneath her shoulder blades and after about twenty seconds of fumbling for it she gives up with a frustrated huff.

"Killing me," I sing-song quietly, then slowly start to unzip her dress.

I pause when I see the pink clasp of her strapless bra, and she quietly warns, "Don't even think about it."

I roll my eyes and continue easing the zipper all the way down until I'm rewarded with the top of bubblegum-pink, lace boyshorts. So her panties match her toenail polish? I'm gonna have to pay closer attention to that in the future.

I lightly snap the band and she jumps with a giggle, turning back around with her hand on the door and her other holding up her dress.

"I swear," she sighs, a smile fighting to break free. "You really are twelve, aren't you?"

"Whatever you say," I mumble, and she laughs a little before shutting the door with me on the wrong damn side.

I blow out a breath and run a hand through my hair. Then it's stretching out my arms and rolling out my neck and my body is humming with energy and I wonder if I could convince her to go to the gym with me right now, because if we stay locked in here I may make some very bad decisions and forget that she's not the kind of girl I can talk into stripping down into nothing. Not that I want to attempt the reach on my powers of persuasion. If her clothes come off, I want it to be her call.

The bathroom door opens and I balk when I see the t-shirt she's wearing. It's clean, but that's what I wear when I'm working on my car and just, no.

"What?" she asks, crossing her arms self-consciously, and I smile.

"You're covered in oil stains," I explain and point at the largest area of improperly colored fabric.

She looks down and scratches at the black mark with a laugh. "Whoops."

"Yeah, take that off," I tell her, going over to my closet.

"Uh-huh, real smooth." She comes to stand next to me, and while she's hanging up her dress next to my blue button downs, I sneak a peek down at her legs.

The hem of the shirt is barely covering her hips because the bottom is a little shredded, and oh yeah.

Skin.

So. Much. Skin.

And it is perfect.

"Stop gawking," she laughs and pivots to head back to the bathroom with a different shirt, and I grab the fabric at her waist and tug her back into me.

She bites her lip against a smile when I gradually back her into the wall with my hips alone, my mouth faintly brushing against hers. "I love seeing you wear my clothes," I say huskily, and she looks down with a blush.

And because I apparently have no concept of impulse control, I tilt her chin back up so I can kiss her fully. It's mind-dissolving, the pressure just enough that I can congratulate myself for staying in check before her mouth parts at the same time as mine does, and I lazily slide my tongue against hers.

I moan at my first taste of peppermint, one of my hands desperately gripping the shirt over her hip while my other palm flattens against the wall behind her. She lifts up on her toes a bit and nips at my upper lip, and when it pulls a growl from the lowest part of my throat I feel her mouth curve into a smile.

I graze my lips over hers and linger in place, and I know she's waiting for more, and fuck if I don't want to give it to her, but instead I pull away completely and her eyes open in surprise.

"Go change, before I don't let you," I tease and she breathes a silent laugh.

I back up, giving her enough space to slide past me, but I haven't let go of her shirt by the time she takes her first step and when the fabric pulls up over her hip, my eyes pop.

I whistle abruptly and she flinches, peering back at me. "You have to let go, Damon," she informs me with a grin, and I raise my free hand, beckoning her with a curl of my finger.

"Gilbert, you have some serious explaining to do."

She slowly starts to make her way over to me. "Do me a favor?" she asks softly and I nod. "You can call me anything you want, just not that."

My brow furrows as I settle my hands on her hips, my thumbs rubbing soothing circles over her. "Okay," I agree quietly, and I can actually feel her relax. "Now," I say lightly and squeeze her once, "how did I know you had a tattoo that you were hiding from me?" I grin mischievously and she blushes, tucking her hair behind her ears.

I slip my hand under the hem of her shirt, running the back of my knuckles over her hip.

"May I?" I ask quietly, and she nods.

I kneel down in front of her so I have a clear view, sliding her shirt up just enough that I can see the entirety of what I'd only glimpsed before. But when I actually see it, I forget to keep ahold of the hem and her shirt falls back down. I swallow and push it back up, but pause when I sense her take a deep breath. Her fingers by her side open, the extra shirt dropping and to my disbelief, without a word she crosses her arms over her waist and gradually pulls the t-shirt she's wearing up and off, letting it join the other one on the floor.

I keep my eyes locked on hers and smile at her comfortingly, wishing I had the words to tell her what her trust means to me and that I won't take more than she's ready to give. And after a moment, when her gaze is relaxed and sweet, only then do I look back to her tattoo and very gently, I begin to stroke my fingertips over the image that is filling the space inside of her left hip. And the skin is smooth of course, but somehow, I can feel it; way down deep, in the darkest place inside of me.

The single black raven is the size of my palm, and he's falling: his mouth open in a silent caw towards the heavens with his talons facing the same way, his back set for a landing with the invisible ground below. His far wing is stretching up like it's reaching for help, but the other is broken and bent downwards.

I tilt my head when I see that his feathers are molting, and the tip of one that's been separated is peeking out from behind her contrastingly cheerful underwear.

I glance up at her and she nods her yes, and carefully I slide down the corner of the pink lace so that she's still covered where it matters, holding the fabric in place with my other thumb. But it's more than enough for me to see two dying feathers floating down and away before they transform into a handful of black tears, splashing onto the beginning of her thigh.

"Jesus, honey," I mumble, caressing the entire scene from the tip of one reaching wing to the very last teardrop.

This is death, grief, torture, unbearable heartache. And it's beautiful: the quality and technique exquisite, the shading some of the best I've ever seen and it must have taken hours upon hours with the level of detail that is in every line, every single aspect. I'm admittedly not thrilled at the idea of another person seeing this much of her body and focusing on it for an extended period of time, and I can hardly believe that she would let someone tattoo her somewhere so intimate, but really I'm just absolutely sick to my stomach with wondering what inspired this in the first place. No one marks themselves in this way without a reason.

I dip my head and kiss a single black tear, then delicately slide the pink lace back in place.

I clear my throat, and I can't quite bring myself to look at her eyes. "Must've hurt."

"You have no idea," she whispers and I hug my arms around her waist, laying my cheek to the raven. Her hand cups the back of my neck as she holds me to her, and I know she's promising that she's fine, but I'm not sure I believe that. "Surprised you don't have a tattoo," she says a little lighter, "bad boy that you are."

"Behind my left shoulder blade," I reply and her fingertips trail down my back before tracing the parallel black lines, roughly a quarter-inch thick and not any longer than the distance between two knuckles. They're not obvious, and they probably seem plain and boring to anyone who notices, except for maybe to Elena because she knows why they're there. But still, they're just two identical bars over my heart, but on my back. Where I don't have to see them.

"They're beautiful," she tells me and I scoff.

"You know what's beautiful?" I say and lean back. "These ridiculous abs you're rocking." I whistle appreciatively and playfully pat her stomach, and when she laughs her defined muscles flex with the movement. "Damn girl, this is what you get from yoga?"

"Yep," she nods proudly, and then holds up her hands and flexes her muscles like she's Popeye or something. "And not eating meat or drinking my weight in beer."

"Crazy," I mutter.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" she taunts me, and I grunt. "Oh, stop it. Not only is your body giving a complex to every male model in existence, you have those angles, the ones right here," she says and lays the base of her hands against her hips.

I stage whisper, "I was born with those."

"Oh whatever," she laughs. "You know," she says and settles her hands on my shoulders, "I haven't worked out in forever and I was gonna make some time tomorrow…"

I wrinkle my nose. "Maybe. If you swear not to tell anyone that you got me to impersonate a pretzel."

She bounces on her toes a little. "Yes! And I'm only gonna tell Klaus."

"Can't, he left the country," I smirk and she arches an eyebrow at me.

"Is that right?"

"Yep," I nod. "And he took Elijah and Kol and Mason with him."

"Ha! Now I know you're lying, because you saw Mason last night."

"They left this morning," I lie and she laughs quietly, cupping my jaw and leaning down to kiss me.

I groan when she pulls away too soon, batting her eyelashes at me with a dramatic doe-eyed pout. "Can I go get dressed now?" she asks, and I shake my head no.

"I'm not done with my inspection," I tell her seriously and she rolls her eyes.

"And what, pray tell, needs inspecting now?"

I grin wickedly, hungrily looking over the svelte and scantily-dressed body of my girl standing before me: nothing but smooth tan skin packaged in a pink little strapless bra and matching lace boyshorts, and I flare my eyes. "Looks like someone had a piercing," I tell her and poke her belly button.

"Yeah, when I was sixteen," Elena laughs.

"Whatever you say," I smile. "Anything else pierced?" The pad of my thumb rubs a circle over the front of her panties, and she bats my hand away.

"Not down there," she says and I cock an eyebrow, resettling my hand on her hip. "I had my eyebrow pierced, but I took that out my freshman year in college. And then there was my nose…"

"You did the little diamond stud, didn't you?" I grin and she nods. "Fuck, that's cute."

"But that's been gone for maybe three…four years now."

"Put it back," I pout and she shakes her head. "Fine. Be like that." I tilt my head and when the corner of my mouth turns up deviously, she crosses her arms.

"What?"

"I'm sensing a mystery piercing…"

She delicately clears her throat and scratches the tip of her nose. "You can't freak out."

Oh fuck yeah. "Why would I freak out?"

"Because," she says, her hands finding rest on my shoulders again and lightly massaging me and it feels freaking fantastic. "You're a guy, and guys always freak out about this." I glance down at her panties again and she sighs, hooking a fingertip under my chin and tilting my face back up to her. "Are you gonna be good?"

"I'm always good," I counter with a smirk, and she rolls her eyes at me.

She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. "My tongue is pierced."

"Liar!" I laugh. "I would've felt it. And I definitely would've seen it at some point."

She shakes her head smugly. "I wear a clear plug when we're at work, and I didn't have anything in last night. Or today, because again, guys go nuts when they find out."

"For good reason," I chuckle and flare my eyes. "And what, may I ask, does Daddy have to say about all these sinful holes in his daughter?"

"Yeah," she drawls and bites her lip. "He doesn't know…"

"You naughty little thing," I growl, and she lightly shoves my shoulder. I smile as I tighten my arms around her waist before tilting my head at her. "Aren't tongue rings supposed to be really bad for your teeth?"

She shrugs casually. "The barbells are, so I don't wear them all the time. Plus, I now have an issue with oral fixation which is why I'm always eating peppermints."

I groan and drop my forehead to her stomach. "You can't say things like that to me…"

She laughs and pulls away, walking towards the kitchen and believe me, it is one hell of a view, but I'd much rather have the up close and personal version.

"What are you doing?" I whine as she starts digging in her purse, taking out a small plastic bag and shaking it at me.

"Pick a color."

"Options?" I say and get up, going to lay back down on my bed with my feet still on the floor, rearranging my cock in my pants. Again.

"Green, blue, black, pink, purple and orange."

"Pink. Matches the outfit," I tease and see her move towards the bathroom out of my peripheral vision.

My eyebrow quirks when the sink starts to run, shutting off a moment later and when she comes back out, I sit up eagerly, every part of me at full attention. She sticks her tongue out at me playfully and my eyes pop at the sight of a metal barbell in her tongue; a pink, star shaped gem in the center of it.

"Holy shit," I breathe with a grin, and she narrows her eyes as she stops back in front of me.

"See? All crazy."

"I demand a demonstration of this nefarious contraption," I tell her evenly, and her little hands cradle my jaw.

"Is that right?" she whispers and I nod slowly, smoothing my hands up her sides as she leans down to me.

She nips at me before she presses her mouth to mine, gently guiding my lips to part and breathing for us both, waiting until the anticipation is killing me before very gradually, she dips her tongue inside my mouth. She laughs softly when I moan at the stark coolness of the metal ball, my grip on her tightening when she begins to twist and twirl it, confidently drawing it across me with every smooth stroke and purposefully heightening each sensation so I'm completely at her mercy and I can't imagine any other place I'd rather be.

I startle when I feel her thigh slide against the outside of mine through my jeans, and I scoot back on the bed so she has room to lower herself down, her other knee finding my comforter. My hands fall to her ass and I tug her closer, and I love the feel of her weight as she straddles my lap, the silky glide of her bra against my bare chest as she presses herself into me.

I'm still learning her and she kisses like no one else, like she's starved for it but a little timid too, and she can never seem to decide if she should make herself stop or just say screw it and kiss me deeper. She's pure instinct, only about what feels good and what she needs right this instant and it's not just a box to hastily cross off on the foreplay checklist. This is the main event for her and as she sighs into my mouth and rolls her hips, completely reveling in it, I'm totally lost in that damn barbell she's taunting me with. And it's not exactly my first experience with a tongue piercing, but with Elena? It sure fucking feels like it.

Because suddenly her mouth leaves mine to trail its way down my jaw, finding the spot on my neck that makes my brain short circuit before she flicks that tongue ring over the lobe of my ear and oh yeah, I'm moaning like fucking crazy.

"Elena," I pant, my hands drifting all over her waist and hips and back because I can't touch enough of her, "unless you're reconsidering what base you want us to be on, you can't do that to me…"

"Do this?" she breathes, teasing me with a kiss of metal again before she lightly bites my shoulder and I growl, left with no choice but to roll us so she's under me, hitching her leg higher around my waist and gripping every silky inch of her thigh. I thrust against her before I can stop myself and she whimpers, her nails digging into my back and her whole body rolling against me and my dick is aching, straining against the zipper that is steadily coming undone.

My mouth is secured to hers as I reach down to try to button my jeans before she gets an inspection of her own that she didn't sign up for, and my muscles lock when one of her little hands covers mine, stopping me.

I pull back to look at her and she's breathing shakily, her eyes half-lidded and chest heaving like she's already been gorgeously fucked and she lifts up a little, just enough to kiss me once before she scoots back further on the bed.

"Come here," she whispers and I prowl my way up and over her body, her hands cradling my jaw as I bend to kiss her.

A/N: STOP! I know I know, things are getting heated and I'm making you pause, but I really want to hear what you guys thought about this chapter :) So by all means, read ahead because I know you wanna ;) and then please please, come back and drop me a note on this chapter about all that is above. Love you all! ON TO THE NEXT ONE!

-Goldnox