A/N: These are stories I'm bringing here from LJ at users request.

Regardless of whose house they spent the night, Stefan always slept on the left side of the bed-until recently. One night as Elena came out of the bathroom teeth brushed and ready for bed, she found him writing in his journal on her side. Not one to miss a "confrontational" opportunity with her boyfriend, she climbed into bed and found her way to his legs, resting atop them.

She tapped Stefan on the shoulder to let him know she had something to say and waited.

When he looked up at her, as always, his breath caught at the sight of her.

"Yes"? Stefan asked in his deadpan ironic voice.

"You're on my side of the bed, Stefan."

"When did we ever negotiate sides, Elena? I don't remember us deciding whose side of the bed was whose."

The smile in his voice made her insides flutter and her heart grateful for these little moments. She couldn't keep the playfulness out of her voice no matter how hard she tried. "Stefan, it's understood. We've slept together almost every night since we got back together and even before. You always sleep on the left side. Last night you slept on the left side. Why are you on my side now?"

He closed his journal, placing it and his pen on the nightstand beside him (on her side). He grabbed her hips that rested on his legs and scooted her up into his lap. Caught by surprise, she silently moaned mouth agape at his movement.

"Elena, what difference does it make which side we're on right now when we inevitably end up on the same side of the bed at some point in the night?" Her breath caught as he moved his hands along her hips and then slowly and methodically along her back.

"Yes but that's not the point, is it?" her eyes are on his staring and knowing that the same desire is emerging in both of them. Her arms are resting on his shoulders as one hand caresses his neck and the other gently grips his hair. "The point is that…" and as he subtly slides his hands under her shirt, she momentarily loses her train of thought, again caught off guard by the sensation of his hands on her skin.

"Yes"? Stefan asks waiting for her to regain her words.

She takes her eyes off of his for a moment, closes them and takes a deep breath. When she re-opens her eyes and looks at him again, she sees that his have darkened even more. Clearly she had as much an effect on him as he on her. She rocks a little bit against him and sees how hard he is fighting to keep his eyes from closing from pleasure and anticipation.

She loves these games almost as much as she loves him.

She begins again. "The point is that we have an understood established sleeping arrangement and we need to honor that. No random switching up. That—"and she reinforces her words with an intense roll of her hips against him earning her a moan from him that reverberates through both their bodies—"is the point."

"Point is noted," Stefan says as he moves his hands back down to the band of her pajama shorts, sliding them off her ass and down her legs. She follows suit moving her hands down to his sweats and lifts herself off him so she can pull his off as well.

Without prompting, Elena moves back onto Stefan and both watch as she guides him inside her. Their foreheads touch as they move against each other, breathing heavily and fighting the urge to groan. Stefan's hands on Elena's hips and ass, encouraging her to move faster push her to move to his neck and shoulders, kissing and sucking on the skin there.

Time moves on as they continue to thrust against each other, the headboard bumping against the wall a mirror to their pace.

Quicker and harder they move and then release is upon them and Stefan has to kiss her to muzzle her (and his) moan.

The little aftershocks continue as they gently rock and kiss and shake from the intensity.

Stefan keeps her in place as they hold each other tightly. "Now do you see why I switched places tonight"? He asks with a smile.

She laughs and moves off of him. In her husky, sleepy, sexed out voice she whispers, "So this was all a part of your grand plan then? Lie on my side so I won't have to sleep in the wet spot?"

"Yeppp," he smiles at her.

"How very chivalrous, Mr. Salvatore," Elena says as she lies on her new side facing him as they share a pillow.

"Indeed, Ms. Gilbert," he replies with love lifting the duvet that is infused with their scent over them and intertwining their bodies together.

"I get my side back tomorrow," she mutters as sleep takes her. He lets her have the last word.

Elena wakes with a start reaching out for Stefan on his (her) side of their bed—still fully dressed down to her Converse sneakers with her cell phone firmly in hand.

The day's events had all come back to her as she gained consciousness-watching Stefan walk away to find a cure for Damon through Klaus (How did she not think to ask him how he planned to do that?!).

Staying with Damon and watching him nearly die (Why didn't he call her to let her know how he was doing? Why didn't she call him? Oh my God, oh my God).

Katherine hinting at what happened to Stefan (He sacrificed me for Damon? What? Oh my God, oh my God).

Her text message to him that garnered no response (oh God why didn't I call him? We normally text each other these things but I should have called. I should have.).

Her running out the door after calling Alaric to stay with Damon ("Damon, whatever Stefan did to save you is worth protecting. Stay here and get better!").

Calling Caroline and Bonnie to help her find Stefan (Bonnie will locate him, she can do it, she can).

Her heartbreak when she pieced together what happened to him (oh my god all this blood?! he drank all this blood?! oh my god oh my god what did he do, what did he do?).

Her guilt at her inability to fight for him (where was I? why didn't I sense it? why didn't I question him more?).

Her anger at what had been stolen from her-and him (It's you and me Stefan. Always).

Her worry about what he would feel about himself when she got him back.

Her sheer exhaustion after 18 hours of searching for him with no clue where Klaus could have taken him (he'll call me when he can. He will. He will. He wants to be with me forever. He will. He's almost all I have left. He will.)

And so she moved onto his side of their bed (her old side) and grabbed his pillow and placed it against her nose, smelling his scent, preparing herself for the war to come, and glad for the dream memories that came to remind her what she was fighting for.