I don't even know what this is. It's set right after they play their "Five years from now, where are you?" game. I took a creative liberty. As much as Damon may want to be human, he'd rather sacrifice his own happiness to make sure she's alive to have hers. Not beta'd but I'd like to think I did alright in the grammar/mistakes area considering I posted this wayyyyy after my bedtime! Enjoy!
Summary: She wants humanity. She wants it with me.
Rating: M for language and sexy times.
Pairing: The Unsinkable Ship.
P.S.: If you read until the end, you'll get a sneak peek for a new DE project in the works.
I'd gift my left nut to not be able to dream.
I wake up after feeling like I've just ran a marathon. I rub at my neck, not surprised to find it damp. My pillowcase is soaked through with my sweat and I'd never say it out loud, but I think I'm actually jealous of that vampire in Twilight. This one was a doozy.
I'm tired. My joints hurt. The cells that make up my joints hurt. My back has a pinched nerve in it and fuck, aging sucks.
I stick my key in the door and unlock it, opening the door and ready to hear laughter and giggles but it's silent save for the crackling of the fire in our fireplace. "Yoo-hoo, anybody home?"
I slip my key-chain on the hook after stepping inside and shutting the door, making my way through our loft. Place is getting too damn small for all of us, but it's home. Frames are hung up on every wall, holding the eternally captured memories of my very human life with Elena. Taking the cure has been the second best damn thing to happen to me, right behind making Elena my wife. There's pictures from our first day as humans after years of being part of the undead, pictures of our engagement that took place shortly after (YOLO and all that), our wedding, honeymoon, and the one thing I definitely never thought I'd have: a picture of my wife holding our newborn.
As I make the turn that leads into the living room, a final picture frame being of Elena and me with our little girl sitting on my shoulders, I see her. Dark hair pulled into a knot on top of her head and she's looking down into her lap. I hear the sound of paper rustling. It's faint, and I don't have superhearing anymore – haven't for a long time – but I'm not deaf. She's reading. I walk up to the back of the couch and bend over it until my cheek is resting against hers but she squeals and tries to shove me way. I grip her hand in mine to stop her.
I forgot to shave this morning. "Hiya, wifey." I snicker at her and do it again. Whoops.
She shakes her head at me in mock indignation and I wiggle my eyebrows. "How was your day?" she asks through her laughter.
"Long," I sigh. "Too many drunken idiots and not enough you." She smiles at me, making it all worth it. "Luckily, free booze is the perk of owning the place." I hold up a paper bag and she scowls at it. I feel a little bad because she can't drink it but even if she could, I wouldn't let her. Gotta keep Mama and rugrat numero dos in tip-top shape.
"Well, look at you: taking a page out of my Optimism Handbook."
"You may have rubbed off on me over the years. Don't tell anyone." I press a chaste kiss to her cheek before hopping over the couch, groaning when that pinched nerve reminds me that it's there. "Note to self," I say with a wince. "Too old to do that."
"You okay?" she giggles as I gingerly take my spot next to her. She snuggles into me and I wrap an arm around her, dancing my fingers along her forearm.
"Peachy. Now you."
"Day was good. Also long."
"Mhmm," I mumble, pulling her feet into my lap. "That it?"
"That and Alaric stopped by."
"Did he now?" I ask, both eyebrows jumping into my hairline, because really? "The asshole couldn't stick around to say hi?"
"Be nice," she laughs, kicking at me but I clutch her feet in my hands tickling her soles as she starts shrieking, laughing so hard that tears prick her eyes. "Enough!" I wink at her and get to rubbing them. "He brought Ryder and Evan over to play, but…" I start work my thumb into one of her soles and she winces. "I told them I wasn't up to it."
"What did you do today?"
She shoots me a sheepish smile. I know that look, and "Dammit, Elena. You can't be overdoing it."
"I was on my feet longer than I should have been. I'm fine."
She's too damn stubborn for her own good, insisting that women have survived being pregnant mothers to a toddler for years without anyone's help, and that she didn't need it either.
"I got that," I'd said to her back when the conversation had first come up, "but women also don't have to deal with the repercussions of spending years as a vampire, the body no longer having that nifty little healing feature." Stubborn, yeah, but it's one of the reasons I love her. Can't help it. Eternal stud-turned aging stud who's eternally in the love with his wife.
But whatever. I'm not gonna fight her tonight. She wins. I missed her too much to put any real effort into the argument anyway. Today was stressful as hell and all I want now is to lose myself in her.
"Where is she?" I ask quietly and her eyes shoot to mine, a spark igniting in her eyes and making my mood soar.
"Where's who?" Elena says, slipping her finger in between the two pages of the current chapter she's reading to hold her place. She closes her eyes as I press my thumb sole and work a circle into it. She moans with a little smirk twisting her lips, moving her other foot in between my thighs, flicking her toes against a part of me that has been aching for her since I left her for work. "The dog?"
I work my fingers up her foot, grinning bigger when her eyes snap open, desire swirling in their chocolate depths. I smirk. "We don't have a dog."
"Then," she drawls, curling her fingers around her precious book as I inch forward, sliding my hand further up her leg with a feather-light pressure. It's officially my mission to make her drop the damn thing. "Um…"
"Um?"
Her eyelashes flutter. I love that she's so sensitive, and it's even more intense when she's like this. Second trimester shenanigans are better than bourbon.
I hover over her and ghost my lips over her ear, whispering what I've wanted to do to her since waking up this morning.
I know I've won (didn't take long) when she swallows hard and reaches for me, her novel thumping quietly against the frieze carpet. "Dammit, Damon, Mia is playing with the Saltzman kids. Now come here," she breathes before crushing her mouth to mine. Yes, pregnant wifey equals a very happy hubby.
Fuck. I really, really, really hate Bonnie.
Okay, so she's saved my ass once or twice, but she should have left the damn thing in 1994. It would be saving me a helluva lot of trouble.
I look over at my girl who's snoring softly, probably dreaming about the future she could have if I decide to give her what she doesn't know I've got.
We played a game today where I asked her what she thought were only hypothetical questions. Really, it was the only way I could find out what she wanted without having to worry about whether or not she was trying to placate me and in case you're wondering: the stupid game worked. She told me everything I needed to know.
And the two of us? We're one in the same. Called it back when she first turned – we are more alike than she realizes. Tonight, though…tonight, it threw me for a fucking loop. The game may have been make-believe, but to the fucking T, she wants what I want…what I've wanted since that first night I saw her, all young and starry-eyed over the "mysterious stranger who had all the answers."
This time, I actually have one for her. She just doesn't know it. Whether or not I like it (and I definitely do not like it), the answer to her happily ever after is currently sitting in the top drawer of my dresser, underneath one of my John Varvatos tees. I slip out of bed and am holding the wretched little vial of miracle juice before Elena can even take her next sleepy breath. She rolls over, facing the window with her back to me as the sheet slips just enough to show me the dimples in her lower back.
An hour ago I was licking them.
She's working to be a doctor now, wants to be a surgeon saving hundreds of lives.
She wants to go back to New York. Specifically to the place that we visited back when the lights on her humanity switch needed flipping back to the "on" setting. She wants Tribeca. Meh. I could think of one or two areas I like better but it's absolutely her vibe. My girl, the hipster, wants a loft in one of the most popular neighborhoods in NYC.
And she wants not one, but two kids…two little rugrats to keep each other busy while I blow their mom's mind and try for a third, because I wouldn't want to stop. I can see it as clearly as I saw my future the second I realized Elena Gilbert existed. I'd want more of her, I'd want every kid we spawned to be in her mirror image…with maybe my impeccable taste for alcohol when he got a little older.
I grip the vial tighter, but I hear it crack and loosen my hold.
I've literally got her future in the palm of my hand.
I clench my jaw so hard I give myself a headache but it fades just as soon as it came on. I asked her where she'd be five years from now if she was human and there wasn't the slightest hesitation in her answer: "Easy, with you." Just like that, like any other option was ridiculous, like she was surprised that I didn't include myself in the equation.
I shove the cure back in my pile of shirts and shut the drawer, turning around and looking at her again. My feet are carrying me to her before I even know what they're doing.
I trail my finger down her cheek, feeling its softness under my touch. She's always been so fucking soft. I take a seat next to her, careful so as not to wake her, but since I'm not a fucking feather the mattress gives. Her heartbeat picks up – so much for her staying in dreamland. She sighs and nuzzles her face into my hand and I blink back the sudden blurriness in my vision.
She can do whatever, have whatever the hell she wants… and she wants it all.
God, I need a drink.
Standing up, I pause when Elena whispers my name. I sit back down and sift my fingers through her hair, memorizing every inch of her face for the millionth time since meeting her. "What are you doing?" Her brows dipping together. She tries to focus on me but her eyelids keep slipping shut. Tired little thing. Guilty. "Are you okay?" she mumbles.
I give her a tight smile and hope she's too wiped to notice. "Peachy."
"You sure?" she asks, her voice hoarse and tired. "You seem sad."
She wants humanity, and she wants it with me. I'd give it all up for her. There's not enough of the cure for us both, and if I drink it from her then there will be no one to look after her. Donovan's sick of our shit – can't totally blame the guy and I'm surprised he's lasted this long if I'm being honest. Stefan's gone all heart-eyes for Barbie, Witchy's drowning in PTSD, and Ric's got enough to deal with, what with his new lady love and bundle o' joy on the way.
"I can't be selfish with you."
It's a promise I've had zero problem with wanting to keep and as much as I want to break it, I can't. I can't sacrifice her safety because I'm scared to death of losing her and if she died because I couldn't protect her then… nope. Not going there. I'm not going to lose her.
"I'm fine," I tell her instead, feeling like something's suddenly lodged itself in my throat. "Close your eyes, sleepyhead. I'll be here when you wake up."
She's asleep before I can finish speaking.
*hands out tissues to those who need it*
Continue reading for a sneak peek at my newest DE story! It doesn't have a title just yet, but rest assured, I'm working on it.
"Tell me what you need."
She's almost there. Determined to get her to say the magic word, I grip her hips and thrust harder into her.
"Just a little more...oh, fuck!" I get her at just the right angle, catching her clit and as soon as that contact is made, she freezes while a scream of pleasure escapes her. "Oh, god…oh – DAMON!"
Bingo.
She locks her legs around me, trying to get me to press deeper into her in an attempt to prolong her orgasm, before slumping into the mattress, still rocking her hips. Sated, she's still looking to help a guy out and I'm grateful as shit because I'm not done. I bury my face in her neck, rocking my hips into hers, feeling my thighs burn because fuck, I need to get there already. I hook my arm under her knee and she moans while I'm still struggling which is annoying as fuck because I've never had trouble before. This one has had me in a ball of nerves since she walked through my door but I'm too busy to try to figure it out.
I focus, listening to the sounds of skin slapping against skin, reveling in the feeling of her clenching around me, and seeming to have recovered, my partner cups my ass and really starts moving. She doesn't bother to try and me, even as she wraps her arms around my neck so that our breaths mix which each exhale. I told her before we ended up here:
I don't kiss and fuck.
Call it an issue. Call it stupid. Call it whatever you want, but I don't kiss a girl while I'm inside of her. It's way too intimate for something I know isn't going to last past this night. And wipe that judgy look off your face because I am not such a dick as to lead on a girl and have her expect anything more than a good romp in the sack. They know what they're getting into when they get into bed with me.
Girl must sense how close I am – finally – because before I can blink she flips me over onto my back and just the change in position has me gasping for air because holy fucking how I didn't think of this before is beyond me.
"Fuck," I bite out. She continues to bounce on me, threading her fingers in my hair and it causes my eyes to roll into the back of my head. She seems to know exactly what to do to drive me batshit.
"Better?" she pants and I grunt in the affirmative, ignoring my idiotic lapse in memory for my favorite position. I feel her smile against my cheek and her hot breath wafts over my ear as I curl my fingers around the curves of her hips. Pumping her hips twice with her breathy whisper of "let go," is all it takes for me to see stars and I shout out, shuddering, and spent and vaguely hear her crying out her second climax.
Once our breaths even out, I roll over, prepared to give her my, "You deserve more than what I can give (which is zero) so get the hell out of my house" speech. But she's already throwing on her jeans. She bends over and I miraculously get hard again at the sight of her bent over. She grabs her panties slowly as if intentionally keeping her naked ass high in the air and all its glory.
"That was fun." She slips on her tank tank top and runs a hand through her chocolate locks as if this is just another Sunday morning walk of shame – minus the embarrassment. Her doe eyes twinkle at me, a flicker of lust still lingering in their depths and I give her a tight smile. "I needed that," she says. "I'll see you around."
We both know she won't, but she twirls around and out of my apartment like she knows she's just ruined me for all other women.
There it is! Can't wait for this one, folks. Thanks for reading, & please review!
