A/N: So here it is, the end of the story. I can most certainly, absolutely guarantee that there will not be a sequel. I slid a little random blurb at the end covering pretty much the only interesting thing to happen to them in the future, so it's done.
Now, I usually leave interpretation of the stories (as I've been discussing with spiritedghost) to the reader. Once I post a chapter, it is up to you to figure out what it, and the chapter title, means to you. This is the only time where I'll share what I think of this. After writing it, and rewriting it, and adding a little bit more here and there, and reading and rereading it, I realized that this chapter kind of follows the progression of their relationship, relatively speaking. I dunno... Just my thought on it.
Thank you to everyone who's read/reviewed. If you've read, but you haven't reviewed, here's your last chance! Give me what you've got!
I really hope you guys like this epilogue. I don't think I'll ever be fully satisfied with it, but if I keep going over it, I'll just obsess, and that'll get me nowhere. Fair warning, there's quite a smutbomb in here, the most intense one that I've written since Make Me Wanna Die/In The End. And it was particularly challenging because I kept getting little teenage basketball players creeping up on me when I thought I was alone, and trying to read over my shoulder. One word, children: Inappropriate.
Okay, I'm done now. Thanks for the support, and I'm looking forward to your feedback, good, bad or indifferent!
Oh! Also, the song used sporadically is 'Down On Me' by Jeremih featuring 50 Cent.
The story is set after The Sacrifice, but still containing canon elements as much as possible.
Please review and let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries. Made for fun, not for profit!
Elena was in Hell. She was sure of it. If she had ever done anything so bad in her life as to deserve eternal torment, there was no way it could be worse than this. Waiting at her house, trying not to think about the throbbing between her legs, surrounded by her family, waiting on the one person who could soothe the itch.
The fact that said person was also her mischievous, doting, sexy boyfriend, who had almost died six months before, and was now going on three hours late for their date, well, that's just a bonus.
He had been late before; and he most certainly would be late again. It wasn't like she was in any way insecure about their relationship, so she never really minded his tardiness. He went to great lengths to show how much he cared for and appreciated her, and they spent so much time together already. She wasn't the type to just sit around and wait for a guy to show up or call.
Except on this night. She had been talking about this night for weeks, and thought that she had made it very clear that he be at her place as early as possible.
Obviously, she hadn't been clear enough.
Frustrated, she suddenly stood from the couch.
"I'm going out," she grumbled to Jenna.
"If you don't skin Damon for whatever he's done now, tell him I say hi. I'll probably be gone to Ric's when you drag him back."
Elena scowled and stomped out of the house, to her car. She sped all the way to the Grill, and slammed the door on the way in. She didn't even have a chance to look around when Matt approached her.
"A little early tonight, 'Lena. They aren't even drunk yet." He pointed to the bar, where Damon and Ric sat, sipping beer and chatting. "Can I say that it's weird for you to be our teacher's DD? And that you're dating his best friend."
"If it makes you feel better," she snapped, "I might not be dating him much longer if he doesn't have a fucking good story!"
Matt laughed awkwardly and sidled off. Elena only made it a few more feet when she was accosted by Caroline.
"I thought you were busy tonight?"
"I was... My plans are currently sitting at the bar."
The blonde's mouth made an 'O' shape, and she stepped silently out of the way, allowing Elena to finish her progress to where her tardy boyfriend sat.
"Did we, or did we not, have plans tonight?" she growled, forcing the vampire to turn to face her. Ric smiled, but upon registering the look on her face, focused on the label of his bottle instead.
"Hey!" Damon said with a smile, leaning towards her. She pulled her hand back for the customary slap, but he grabbed her wrist, frowning. "I thought we'd gotten past the whole 'slapping me' me thing. What the hell is wrong now?"
"Do you know what today is?" Elena hissed through her clenched teeth.
"The day you start your period?" She narrowed her eyes, and he sighed. "But I thought I had that marked down. And I would be able to smell it..."
Alaric choked on his beer. "That's disgusting!"
"So is whatever the hell you're drinking."
She ignored their banter, distracted by the fact that her bastard of a boyfriend was wearing her favourite cologne. And the grey shirt that she'd bought him that brought out his eyes. And he was still turned towards her, his knees brushing her legs...
Eyes up Gilbert! Keep it together!
"Okay," Elena said with a cold calmness. "No problem. I'm going home. You can forget it. Have fun on your man-date."
And with that, she stormed back out of the restaurant, into her car, and back to her house. She ignored Jenna in the living room, making her way upstairs to throw herself onto her bed. She rolled over, facing the ceiling, and shut her eyes. She knew that she was being unreasonable. She really was being very hard on him.
But he had been late! On the only day that they had agreed that he should never be late!
And on top of that, since his brush with death, Elena found herself worried sick about him. If he fails to answer the phone, or is late to meet her, her mind is suddenly filled with images of another werewolf bite. And she knows that it isn't likely to happen; the only werewolf in town now is Tyler, and he is safely tucked away and guarded on the full moon. But logic does nothing to dampen the fear of losing one's lover, and so she is overcome with the thoughts. Damon at the mercy of a werewolf pack, running, fighting, dying. Damon, caught unawares by another vengeful vampire, like he was in Georgia, only this time, Elena is too late to save him. Damon, falling to the ground, skin greying, a stake protruding from his chest, and his icy blue eyes closing forever...
She heard the door open and close, and knew it was him. And then she stood up, pacing across her room, eyeing the outfit on a hanger inside of her closet, and she isn't angry anymore. It's a waste of time when the two of them have learned in such painful ways that time can be taken from them at any moment. Does it really matter that he was late? Would she have been angry if he hadn't shown up at all, due to his being dead in the forest? And if Elijah hadn't arrived in time all those months ago, she wouldn't even be having this problem.
When Damon arrived at the Gilbert residence, he really wasn't sure what to do. He stood outside the door for a few moments, rubbing the back of his neck nervously before finally stepping into the house quietly. He eyed the stairs, but decided against it, figuring he would just antagonize Elena further if he let himself in. And, if she was so desperate to have him over, she could damn well come down and fetch him.
As he turned toward the living room, he noticed Jenna for the first time. She was standing walking towards him.
"Here." She handed him the remote. "I'll assume, since you're here, that Ric's gone home?" He nodded. "Alright, good luck with that," she looked up, and then met his eyes again, "And see you around."
She left, and he flopped down onto the couch, flipping through channels before finally settling on wrestling. He kicked off his boots, tucking one arm behind his head, letting the other dangle off the couch, resting on the floor.
Five minutes later, he heard Elena skip down the stairs, come to the living room, and then stop a few feet away from him.
"Come to yell at me some more?" he grumbled, his eyes not moving from the screen.
She stepped in front of him, blocking his view. Her hair was wet, and braided into two pigtails. She was wearing knee high, white socks, and a long, terry cloth robe.
"Can you sit up, please?" she asked softly.
He sighed dramatically, and heaved himself into a sitting position. Elena shuffled forward to straddle his hips and loosely drape her arms around his neck.
"Do you know what today is?"
He rolled his eyes, frustrated with her repetitiveness. "I have no idea. I don't generally try to piss you off, so please, tell me, what is today?"
She pressed herself a little closer to him, taking his hand and slipping it between her legs, up her robe.
He frowned, confused by the change in her mood, but decided not to question it. He slowly moved his hand further up her thighs, realizing that she was wearing something under the robe.
"Today," she began, staring straight into his eyes as his fingers explored, "Is the six month anniversary of you almost dying." She bent forward so her lips were pressed against his ear. "And do you remember what we said we would do on the six months?"
His body froze as his mind went into overdrive. Weeks ago, he had offhandedly mentioned, when they were cuddled together after sex, the idea of tying her up. In a very serious tone, she confessed that the idea had crossed her mind as well, but she was very nervous about it. A few days after, she told him that on the six months of him almost dying, they could try it.
He met her eyes apologetically. "I am so sorry."
She simply smiled in response before getting up and walking back toward the stairs. "I'll be waiting for you in my room. You probably want to get rid of Jeremy though."
The second he heard her bedroom door close, Damon flew up the stairs to usher Jeremy out of the house. ("Here's the keys to my car, and my house. It's empty. Go get Bonnie; go get high. I don't give a flying fuck, just get the hell out of here!")
Once the littlest Gilbert had fled the premises, the vampire turned to Elena's bedroom and slowly pushed it open. His first view caused his breathing to deepen, and his pants to tighten painfully. She had discarded the robe, and was currently bent over, pushing a bag under her bed.
His mind flashed back to their discussion when he was dying: "And speaking of school, I think I should get you a little costume. Kilt... Blouse... Yeah, I have so many plans for you."
From what he could see, she'd found the kilt. Her position allowed it to ride up, revealing her perfect backside and the black lace thong that she was wearing underneath it.
He cleared his throat, unable to make any other sound. His eyes scanned the softly lit room, registering the restraints tied to each corner of her bed, and the mirror behind her headboard where a painting used to be.
She stood up and faced him with a nervous smile on her face, allowing him to take in the rest of her outfit, if you could call it that. A tight white blouse, tied just under her breasts, which were hidden from view by a black, strapless bra with the clasp at the front. The short kilt and knee-high socks, along with her braids, completed the ensemble.
She was sauntering towards him as he shut the door and finally forced himself to speak.
"You remembered," he said, indicating her clothes.
"Better than you," she answered, placing her hands on his shoulders and guiding him to sit in the chair in the corner. "You know," she began, leaning over to meet his eyes, allowing him a wonderful view of her cleavage, "I'm still really nervous about tonight..."
"It doesn't show at all," was his strangled response.
"And we both know that you tend to give me a lot of control while we're... intimate. But tonight," her hands slid down his chest, and she moved even closer, so he could feel her breath on his lips, "Tonight, I really really want you to tell me what to do."
It wouldn't be the first time that he would take a distinctly dominant role during sex, but it was the first time that she expressed her desire to have it that way. And he had made it his goal to fill her every desire.
She pulled back suddenly, but then seemed to change her mind, and moved closer again, her lips pressed lightly against his as she spoke once more.
"And, just so you know, while I was waiting earlier, I was thinking about how this would be."
"And I'm already really turned on for you. Just so you know."
Then she pulled away again and padded across the room. Damon thought that he was going to explode. Never, ever, had a woman made him feel this way just by speaking to him. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, placing his arms on the armrest, not sure what Elena had in mind. Then music filled the room, some stupid pop song that he had hated up until the moment. His eyes snapped open to see Elena in front of him, facing the away from him, gyrating her hips.
"Okay she headed to the dance floor, and she slowly start to poppin' it. Something like Rice Crispies, everybody got to watching it..."
"I will never complain about your music again," Damon moaned when she backed up and rubbed against his groin.
She giggled a little, but kept moving, her hands above her head.
After he had gotten his fill of just watching her (which wasn't very long, to be honest), he reached out lightly stroke her thighs.
"Bend over," he ordered, "Take off the thong. I want to feel how wet it is."
Obediently, she bent over, and, yet again, her kilt rode up, allowing him to see her ass as she tugged down the scrap of fabric. He bit his lip as he watched her step out of the underwear and slowly roll herself back into a standing position. She turned toward him, handed him her panties, and shuffled back a little.
"System's thumpin', party jumpin'. Shorty, she's a perfect ten. She rock her hips, then roll her hips, then drop it down like it's nothin'."
Her arms were back above her head, stretching her taut stomach, revealing more of her chest. Her knees bent, and she sank down, spreading her legs a little before bouncing back up. Then she stepped forward and straddled him, hands gripping the back of the chair on either side of his head, chest in front of his face.
"Having fun yet?" she murmured.
With one swipe, he licked from the gap between her breasts up to her neck. His hands gripped her hips and she continued to rock against him.
"We should do this more often," he suggested.
She laughed hoarsely. "And you can dance. We can call them 'Incentive Not To Die' nights."
He moved a hand up to grip her hair and pull her down to kiss him. He wasted no time in sliding his tongue between her lips, revelling in the way she moaned.
When he'd finished plundering her mouth, he lifted her by her hips and placed her on her feet, standing with her.
"Do you like how I taste?" he asked, pulling her flush against him.
She nodded. "I want you in my mouth, right now."
"Good. Get on your knees."
He unbuckled his belt, and she tugged his pants and boxers down. He watched her as she licked along his length, and then wrapped her lips around him.
"Yeah," he breathed, gripping her hair and slowly moving his hips in time with her tongue.
He closed his eyes, moving his other hand to grab her hair as well. She pulled back a little, teasing him with her tongue swirling around the tip of cock.
"... Elena..." he moaned.
As she took him all in again, his mind drifted off, unable to put his thoughts together. She was getting to be an expert at this, demonstrated by the fact that he was already seeing bursts of colours behind his eyes. She was growing bolder too, and had surprised him that one time by crawling under the table at the boarding house, and -
He was distracted when he felt his hips suddenly jerk forward, and he hit the back of her throat. He felt her make some sort of sound, and the feeling caused him to whimper a little. She was dragging him to edge, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold out. His biggest mistake was in looking down at her. The sight of her bobbing, sucking him off, her hands gripping his thighs... And the kilt...
"Elena," he gasped, "I want you to touch yourself. But stop when I tell you to."
She sighed, and he felt one of her hands slide down his leg. He watched as it disappeared beneath the kilt, and then she started moaning.
"Oh God!" There was a rushing in his ears, but he tried to ignore the feeling, tried to hold out a little long. Damn she was good! "Ah! Elena!"
The hand between her legs was moving faster now, and he could see her frown, trying to maintain her focus. Her tongue was swirling faster and faster, flattening out and then twirling, and making him speak all kinds of nonsense. Her whole body was visibly stiffening; he knew she was close.
"Stop!" he ordered, and she groaned in disappointment, her hand slowly sliding out.
"Please..." she whispered around him.
At that, he lost control, and exploded into her mouth with a cry of satisfaction. She slowed down, not stopping until she had milked him dry. Then, with a final kiss on his tip, she stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt.
He hardly registered any of this, and was surprised that his knees hadn't given out. Soon enough, he felt his shirt fall from his shoulders, and idly noticed that the music had stopped. She was nipping at his chest as he pushed her back onto the bed. He rolled them so that she was on top, straddling his stomach. He could feel the heat radiating from her nether regions, and almost gave up and pushed into her right then and there.
But we haven't even gotten to the best part yet.
He stopped kissing her for a moment and just looked at her. He was sure he had never seen anything sexier in his life: The woman he loved, straddling him, looking like a debauched schoolgirl (which, to be fair, she sort of was).
"Take off your bra. Leave the shirt on though."
She obeyed, a mischievous look in her brown eyes. She had started inching back, trying to sit between his legs, but he suddenly flipped her onto her back.
"Not yet, love." He kissed down her throat to her heaving chest. "Spread your legs."
Strangely, she only clamped them together. When he looked up to meet her eyes, he noticed she was chewing her bottom lip nervously.
"I said," he growled, and he could have sworn he heard her moan, "Spread your legs."
"I'm nervous," she whispered.
He smirked against her skin, and sank a little lower, licking and kissing a trail along her midsection.
"Pretty sure you're all turned on though." He nipped at her hip. "I'll bet you can't wait to wrap your legs around me, feel me inside of you." He blew over her bellybutton, and she jerked her hips. "I'll bet you're imagining me biting you, drinking your blood while I'm making you come." He crawled back up, over her face and kissed her lightly on the lips before sucking on her ear lobe. "Spread your legs," he whispered.
Finally, she uncrossed her feet and Damon shuffled down to tie each ankle to the bedposts. Once done, he kissed his way up one thigh, leaving little bite marks, and then settled between her legs. Scanning up her body, he could see her hardened nipples beneath her blouse.
"Roll your nipples, over your shirt."
She did, with trembling fingers, and when she made a sound of arousal, he grinned and sank down, finally allowing himself to taste her. She was dripping wet, and he wasted no time in licking her from her entrance to her clit. He felt her legs pulling against the restraints, trying to close around his head, but it was no use. He sucked on her little bundle of nerves, but stopped the second he felt her hand on the back of his head.
Within a second, he had her wrists restrained as well. Slowly, he flipped open the buttons on her blouse, releasing her breasts. He captured one swollen nipple between his teeth.
"I thought I told you what I wanted you to do." He bit down lightly, making her hiss at the sensation. "Why didn't you listen?"
"It felt so good... I didn't want you to stop."
She hissed again when he bit her other nipple.
"Ah! I want you, Damon! Please, keep going! I need you to touch me!"
He chuckled, but slid back down between her legs. Without warning, he thrust two fingers inside of her, making her scream with pleasure and surprise.
"What do you want, Elena?"
"Ah!" she gasped. "I want... I want..." She moved her hips, trying to direct him, but it was no use without her arms and legs. "My clit," he could hear her swallow hard, "Please! It's throbbing!"
He blew over the throbbing nub, and then drew it into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. He heard Elena hiss, and redoubled his efforts, thrusting his fingers into her faster and harder.
"Yes!" she screamed. "Oh yes! Damon! I'm so close, Damon! Just a little more..."
He kept on working her until he could feel her inner walls fluttering, and her body tighten up. Then, as he bent his fingers, he suddenly quirked his head to the side, and slid his fangs into her leg. She came then and there, crying out his name and twitching uncontrollably. Her body was covered in sweat, her various fluids mixing in his throat.
When he'd fully retracted from her, he crawled back up to collapse next to her, licking his lips.
"How do you feel?" he asked, genuinely curious.
She was still breathing hard when she answered. "I feel... perfect."
His fingers danced up her arms to where her wrist was tied. "And these?"
"Even better than you promised. It was... exciting," she giggled.
He cocked an eyebrow, and unclasped her wrists. "What do you mean, 'was'? We aren't done yet. I still want to watch you in that mirror!"
Elena's face flushed, and her heartbeat sped up as he released her ankles. Apparently on instinct, she got up on her knees, facing the mirror, sliding the blouse off her shoulders and placing both her hands on the headboard. Silently, Damon retied either wrist before pressing himself against her.
"You know," he began, kissing her back and shoulders, "If I weren't superhuman, you probably would have worn me out a long time ago."
He eyed her reflection, and glowed when he saw her genuinely smile. "I just can't keep my hands off of you. Although it doesn't seem to bother you too much."
He let one hand slide down her belly, between her legs, slowly teasing her. She gasped, and threw her head back.
"It doesn't bother me at all." He positioned himself at her entrance, and felt her angle her hips to receive him.
He chuckled, and then thrust into her, revelling in the feeling of her moving back against him. "It's like you can read my mind."
Their eyes met in the mirror, and he pulled out almost all the way, only to slide back in to the hilt. They moaned in unison at the feeling. Once more, and Elena started tugging at the restraints.
"What's wrong?" he grunted, speeding up.
"I just... I need to touch you."
He indulged her, as usual, by placing his head on her shoulder. She turned and kissed him, biting his bottom lip as he moved faster and harder inside of her, his hands squeezing her hips.
He pressed her back with one hand, bending her over, allowing him to push into her deeper than before. She was screaming now, her nails digging into the headboard. He reached around her to fondle her breasts, and pressed wet kisses up and down her spine.
"Elena... Are you close?"
He smirked. "Watch, in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart. You're so beautiful..."
Her walls were fluttering again, her orgasm coming on sooner this time. He pushed into her as hard as he dared, and just as she started to keen, he bit her, again. And, again, it pushed her over the edge, so that she collapsed back against him, still crying out with each throbbing of her body. Damon was still thrusting, and soon, he exploded inside of her, and fell forward, pinning Elena to the headboard.
"I love you," he breathed.
"I love you," she answered.
Weakly, he undid the restraints a final time, and they both fell to bed in a sweaty, bloody heap, curled around each other, sated and smiling.
The next morning, Elena woke up alone. She wasn't too concerned. Whenever she and Damon spent the night together, he was always awake first, making breakfast for her. On this morning, though, she was pleasantly surprised when he appeared back in the bedroom, with a tray full of food.
"I figured that this would be a good morning for breakfast in bed."
Elena simply smiled in response, and shifted around, making room for him to climb in behind her. With the tray placed across her lap, and the television remote firmly in Damon's grasp, they settled into a relaxing morning.
"So, you were twenty four when you died, right?" Elena asked him a while later, when he was munching toast out of her hand.
"Twenty five," he corrected her.
"But I thought -"
"My birthday's earlier in the year. Stefan would have been eighteen."
"Oh." She was silent again, digesting that information. She could practically feel Damon's curiosity. "Caroline keeps talking about dropping out of school, since she has forever to get back to it. She's only still there because her mom would lose it." She paused again as Damon set down the remote. "And if I didn't graduate college, Jenna would freak. And then the age thing would be a little closer."
"Elena," Damon began in a low voice. She moved the tray to the floor, and turned on her knees to face him, the blanket wrapped around her. "If you're saying what I think you're saying, you're going to have to spell it out for me. I have a bad track record with jumping to conclusions where you're concerned."
Elena grinned at him and shuffled closer, playing with one of his hands. "I promised you, right; no more dying? I mean, I'll have to die one more time for it to really stick, but -"
She met Damon's eyes and promptly stopped speaking. His mouth was hanging open, and he seemed to be trying to see through her, to read exactly what she was trying to say.
"Are you talking about turning? Actually becoming a vampire?"
"Well yeah," she answered. She was secretly pretty amused by his reaction, relieved at his current passivity. He could be very unpredictable when confronted with issues of this magnitude. "I've given it a lot of thought, given everything. And we wouldn't have to talk too seriously about it for another few years, and I'm still really nervous. But, I mean, if someone else comes along and decides to try and kill me, then we could just move it up a little earlier, so we have that option open."
"But," he spluttered, "But you were so angry when -"
"When you tried to force it on me? That was... That was a really bad choice Damon." She'd gone back to staring down at their joined hands. "I still hadn't really wanted to consider it yet, and you forced it. That's a huge change, Damon. And for someone who isn't sure, or doesn't want it... Do you understand how much of a betrayal that was?"
"But now?" he asked softly, changing the subject.
"Now, I've thought about it, and I've set myself a time line, and I've made decisions about it. Now, it's my choice." She ended her sentence smiling at him.
"So this is for sure?" He was still talking quietly, staring at her intensely, as though afraid to spook her.
Elena shrugged, sighing dramatically. "For sure; forever; whatever. I mean," she crawled over him and wrapped her arms around his neck, "Could you imagine if I died? You wouldn't last a week between the vampires that you've pissed off and your secret hero complex that causes you to throw your arm into werewolves mouths."
She shrieked when Damon rolled her over, and kissed her hard. And as he sank into the bed next to her, and wrapped his arms around her, and held her close, she thought about exactly why she had made the decision to turn.
It's not a question of love or lust or protection; not of eternity or forever; it's a question of survival. I need him to survive, or else I won't be able to live. Elena could never live without him; Damon could never live without her. And she knows that just the thought of him not existing, regardless of whether she was alive or dead, kills her. It's selfish, this urge to live just to avoid that thought, and Elena knows it.
But this is her Heaven. There's nothing else. There's no one else. So when her lips meet Damon's, and she slides over top of him, and he grips her hips and moves inside of her, words of love and adoration spilling from both of their tongues, that's all it is: Survival.
And just to show that it isn't all smooth sailing...
"That's a huge book! Don't throw it at – Ah!" Damon yelled, dodging the hefty tome that was flying through the air in his direction.
"I can't believe you compelled me! And you never told me!" Elena was furious, the veins around her eyes pulsing, her newly-formed fangs out and threatening.
"It was seven years ago!" He dodged another projectile. "I thought it was for your own good! I thought Stefan would make you happier!"
"Oh yes," Elena suddenly launched herself at her lover, over their bed, "Of course, Stefan turned out to be so great for me!"
Damon grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the wall after she managed to land a blow to his midsection. "You know, now that you're a vampire, it actually hurts when you hit me!"
"You're so lucky I'm in love you," Elena growled.
With a smile, Damon pressed his lips to hers. She never could stay mad at him for long...