A/N: Guess who's back; back again... Yeah, I just quoted Eminem. Love it! Anyways, I've gone into fanfiction withdrawals as I'm working on a couple of new chapter stories, so here's a little (maybe kind of long) oneshot to try and alleviate that. Be warned: There is no plot. Just smut. And a new style of writing for me. I wrote from Damon's POV for Smart Like That, and I kind of liked it, so I tried it again with this one. Let me know what you think about it. :)

Final little note: This is a one-shot. No sequel coming. I know that I allude to a few things that could be developed, but I'm not really interested enough to do it, so this is as far as it's going. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries.


I've been standing in front of my open closet for twenty minutes, just staring at the contents, asking myself the obvious question: What does one wear on a date with an old-as-time, evil hybrid creature?

Okay, so maybe that question isn't so obvious to the objective observer. But try walking in my shoes for, like, a day, and you tell me what I should and shouldn't be thinking.

Speaking of what I shouldn't be thinking of... I hear a snap from the tree outside, and I smirk, fully aware that Damon is perched outside, watching my every move. And I'm strutting around my room with the curtain open, wearing nothing but a matching black lace lingerie set. I know I'm being absolutely awful here, but I definitely plan on making it up to him. Tonight. After my date with Klaus.

Oh yeah, let's examine that clusterfuck, shall we?

Damon and I had spent months searching for Klaus and Stefan. We had travelled the world, spent an inordinate amount of my boyfriend's brother's money, visited way too many countries. We had spotted them, once. Stefan met my eyes and – nothing. He looked at me like I was food. And then he turned and walked away. The flight home was unpleasant to say the least.

Then, a year to the day after Stefan had disappeared, Klaus showed up on my doorstep. On my fucking doorstep. Like he belonged there. He smiled, and cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes sparkling. I slammed the door in his face. When eventually I did break down and let him speak, once Damon had arrived at my house and was glowering appropriately over my shoulder, the Original surprised us both. He was willing to deal, willing to release Stefan from his servitude, to a certain degree. But for that to happen, he wanted to talk to me. Alone. On Friday night. Over dinner and maybe a movie.

My jaw had dropped. Damon's fists had flown. Klaus' temper had flared and my poor knight in designer t-shirt had gotten thrown into the tree that he is currently sitting in. Needless to say he is not pleased with my decision, so I'm kind of hoping that the little show I'm putting on for him is making him feel a little better. I'd doubt it though, since he still doesn't understand exactly what's going on.

See, I have a schedule. Since the last time I saw Stefan, I knew that he and I were over. Regardless of whether or not he can actually control his blood-addiction, I really can't be his anchor anymore. It makes me sound petty and shallow, and I feel really bad for that, but at the end of the day, a relationship is about give and take. And not just me giving and him taking. And I'm not just talking about blood, although I'm sure that would come up soon enough too.

So I was done with Stefan, but I still wasn't ready to face up to everything that I have going on with Damon, who, up until now, has strictly been my boyfriend's brother. It's scary. It's intense. It's more overwhelming than anything I've ever felt before. So I've been sort of easing myself into the idea of what it would mean to be with him. And I decided that, for my own peace of mind, I couldn't pursue him actively until I had some sort of closure with Stefan.

Hence the date with Klaus. Once we get Stefan back, I can tell him (or more likely yell to him through the bars of the cell in the boarding house basement) that we're over for good. Then, I can jump Damon, climb him like a jungle gym, and ride him to my heart's content.

This whole waiting around thing has really worn out my patience and natural good-girl tendencies, by the way. When I'm around him, it's like I can hear the air crackle with electricity and feel this heat, and I don't know if it's coming from him or from me, but I really don't care. All I know is that it makes my palms sweat just thinking about him, and my stomach drop into the soles of my shoes whenever my eyes meet his icy blue ones. And sometimes, it's all I can do to not run my fingers through his hair. I'll bet it's soft...

And whenever he's around, I'm wound up so tight that I'm surprised I haven't just expanded and floated away, like a balloon. Or drifted to the bottom of the sea with the weight of it all. No wonder I'm exhausted.

I sigh, and finally dart forward to grab a strapless black dress, tapered to my waist with a flowing skirt that falls below my knees. I tug it on, and hear a soft thump behind me as I finish with the zipper.

Smiling a little, I turn to face Damon, who is still standing by my window, scowling.

"What do you think of the dress?" I ask him seriously.

He softens a little, the flirty glint reappearing in his eyes. "It looks beautiful, but it's probably just because it's you wearing it."

I open my mouth to thank him, but he's suddenly in front of me, hands on my wrists.

"But," he begins, "That doesn't mean you're going anywhere."

Oh gawd... He cannot keep doing this.

"Damon, I have to do this. You know that, I know that. If this is what it takes to free your brother -"

He cuts me off. "When was he downgraded from your boyfriend to my brother?"

"Probably around the time I was downgraded from girlfriend to food. And anyways, if this is what it takes to free him, then it's fine. It's nothing."

I turn away to face the mirror, trying to decide whether to wear my hair up or down. Up exposes my neck; down makes me look a little too vulnerable. Decisions, decisions...

"It isn't 'nothing'!" he yells suddenly, making me jump a little. "This is Klaus, remember? The one who killed you!"

I meet his eyes in the mirror. He looks entirely too severe for his own good right now, considering he won't be changing my mind at all. So I spin to face him, and we're less than a foot apart, and sweet Jesus, what was I about to say?

"Yeah, okay! I remember him killing me. You lucked out, didn't you? When you died, it was just a quick gunshot, and then you were gone. I felt every pull of blood from my veins; every burning throb at my neck; my heart labouring to beat again before it all finally stopped! So yeah, I remember that! But we need to get Stefan away from Klaus, in case you didn't remember that part!"

He's silent for a moment, blinking at me, still angry, and I stand, shocked, arms crossed over my chest, surprised that I'd actually said all of that.

And then he bursts again. "It doesn't matter! Stefan's a big boy; and if the price for him is putting you at risk, I'm not willing to pay that!"

"Yes you are! You told me that you would do anything to get him back! Well, buddy, this is your anything!" I step even closer to him, and I really shouldn't have done that, because my head is getting all swimmy. "And this isn't even your decision! Of the two of us, who is the boss of me?"

At that, his lips quirk up mischievously, and he leans in to whisper in my ear. "You can make your own decision, but you'll have a hard time leaving if I've tied you up."

...

...

...

Holy. Effing. Shit.

I think I've just died.

And now Jeremy's here, and I'm trying really hard to remember my train of thought before my brain was overtaken with images of me, Damon, and a length of rope. There's some screaming, and it's just the good kind. Oh, wait, okay, we were arguing about, what the fuck now?

Goodbye linear thought process. Hello way too many smutty fantasies.

At least Damon's pulled back now, although us staring at each other to the point of forgetting the world even exists probably isn't much better.

"Hey," I hear Jeremy say calmly from the door, and I assume he's calculating the risk of actually entering the room given the thick tension in the air. "Are you going somewhere?" he asks me.

Damon and I answer simultaneously, eyes still locked on each other. "Yes!" - "No!"

"Uh," and I know without seeing it that he's scratching the back of his neck, "Right, well I'm going to grovel at Bonnie's feet some more. So I'll see you later."

"Good luck," I manage to bite off at him, and then he's gone, and the air feels ten thousand pounds heavier.

It's so quiet that I'm fairly certain the world outside my bedroom has probably just disappeared, and Damon and I are the only two left standing in the entire fucking universe. But as I gaze into his eyes, I see a change, and I can literally watch him change tact. I am observing the gears screeching to a halt and re-arranging before he speaks next.

"So, you're just totally fine going on a date with devil?" he says in a nonchalant kind of a voice.

K, seriously?

"If that's the way you want to put it, then yes, I am."

I shrug, and turn back to the mirror, but he's still watching me like a hawk. I will not shudder; I will not shudder; I will not shudder.

"And, by the way, you're ruining my schedule," I mumble, knowing full well that he'll have no idea what I'm talking about.

And sure enough... "Whatever, you have another two hours before your little date."

Ooh, is that bitterness I hear? I spin around again, and realize that he's moved away, leaning against my bed. He's got his arms crossed, and his button-down shirt had slipped a little. Good God, I want to lick his collarbone. His fucking collarbone.

"And," he continues, pushing himself away from the bedpost so I know that he's getting all riled up again, "In case you've forgotten, I've spent two whole years trying to get what you're just handing over to him, which is a little bit insane, if you think about it."

"Are you fucking kidding me Damon!"

Pretty sure if vampires could turn red, his face would be purple.

"No, I am not fucking kidding you! I know I've done some pretty shitty things to you, but it's nothing compared to what he's done, so what the fuck is the difference, Elena? How come he gets the nice civilized date, and all I get is unrequited love, and a fucking striptease through the goddamn window!"

... True that I guess. Point – Damon.

My mouth works, but no sound is coming out faced with the raw honesty of his statement. I know full-well that he'd only meant for this to discourage me from going off alone with Klaus, but it's evolved rapidly into something way more integral than that. This is our lives he's talking about, and his insecurities are killing me. So before I can even think about what I'm doing, I'm across the room, chest to chest with him, my hands locked behind his neck. I started doing this months ago to force him to meet my eyes, to know that he was really listening to me.

"You want to know the difference!" I yell in his face, and to his credit, he isn't flinching at all. "The difference is that I'm not in love with Klaus!"

And I drag his face down to mine, and I'm pretty sure my tongue is in his mouth even before our lips have met. It's amazing! It's perfect! It's so very hot! And it's... a little one-sided. Not that he isn't kissing back with a gusto, because he is. But as my hands drift down his shoulders to dig my nails into his biceps, I realize that his arms are locked to his sides. I pull back a little: His fists are clenched as he leans into me.

I meet his eyes again and smile a little. He looks almost sad, like a little boy who just got a puppy, but knows that he'll lose it soon. So I stroke his face, and cup his cheek, and press my lips to his softly, reassuringly.

"Damon," I whisper, "Unclench."

Something that I've noticed about him is that he tends to obey direct orders from me, in his own way. And so he does now. He places his hands on my waist, lightly, as if he doesn't want to scare me off. Which is ridiculous, because, seriously, how could I possibly drag myself out of his gravitational pull?

So I roll my eyes and take a tiny little step back, and his face falls a little, and my heart breaks for him. I reach behind me, and unzip my dress, letting it slide to the floor, revealing, yet again, for his viewing pleasure, the strapless bra and black panties, which are now all that are covering me from his hungry gaze.

Without warning, I haul myself up to wrap my legs around his waist, (Hell to the yeah with the jungle gym idea. This is fucking awesome!) and he instinctively places his hands under my ass, waiting a moment before kneading it softly. I moan and kiss him again, hard and passionately, writhing against him.

"You're ruining my schedule," I repeat as he sinks down to sit on the bed.

"Oh yeah?" he gasps. I'm unbuttoning his shirt while kissing and sucking his neck, and his hands are rubbing up and down my thighs, slowly, as if he's memorizing the feel of them. "And what schedule is that?"

My fingers finally pop the final button, and I shove him onto his back.

"I was going to wait until after this whole 'Klaus and Stefan' thing was done before going after you, but," and now I'm slithering down his body, and he props himself up on his elbows, frowning, and you'd think, at this point, that he'd trust me, "I just can't wait to taste you."

Which is exactly what I do. I unbuckle his belt and drag his pants and boxers off his hips, letting him kick them the rest of the way off. Then I kiss each hipbone, and nip a little for good measure. His hips jut forward and I grin into his skin before flicking my eyes up. Then, oh I am such the wanton sex goddess, I lick from his treasure trail, past his navel, over his abs, his chest, his fucking collarbone, up his neck, to finally pull his earlobe between my teeth.

His fingers are dancing up and down my spine, and now, I don't have to suppress the shivers wracking my body. But he's still being way too gentle, acting like I might break or run away. Doesn't he know me better than that by now?

"Elena," he breathes.

I pull back, leaning over him so my hair falls in a curtain around our faces. My intention is to let him speak, but now that I've gotten started, I just can't keep myself off of him. So I dip my head down and kiss him again. I can feel him arch up into it before he falls back and knits his fingers into my hair. He rubs circles into my scalp and I almost purr with delight at the intimate gesture.

"Do you mean it?" he asks quietly, hoarsely, and oh-so-meekly.

I could cry right now. I just want to hold him to me and kiss every inch of him, and tell him in words and actions every little thing I feel for him. Because this man, and the boy hidden away inside, needs to know how worthy he is.

"I love you," I am able to say clearly, without choking on all of the emotion inside. "It took a little longer, but I've seen you, Damon. I see all of the bad things that you've done, and how you try to be better. And how you are better. And I see how you look at me, and it makes me shake, down to my toes. The way you love me has transformed you. It changes everything about you, gives your life meaning. And I found that I care about you so much that I couldn't possibly ever take that away from you. And you do that for me too! You make me think twice about everything! You've officially broken the self-sacrificing, suicidal streak."

There's a long time where neither of us says anything. We just stare at each other. And then I shift a little, and I feel his rock-hard length beneath me, and my body catches fire again.

I twist my fingers into his shirt and pull back, yanking him up with me. And now it's his turn as he leisurely sucks and licks at my neck and shoulders, his fingers splayed across my lower back, his thumbs drawing designs against my hipbones.

"Why are you being so gentle?" I rasp, my head thrown back as I continue to writhe and grind against him.

"I'm still processing," he says. His hot breathe washes over my skin, and my eyes roll back in my head. "I've spent so long trying to get you to at least think about this."

"Oh," I moan, grinning, "I've thought about it a lot."

He just growls in answer, and bucks his hips, but he's still so soft.

"Damon Salvatore," I begin with a smirk, "Are you hesitating?"

I haven't even caught my next breath before he's two fingers deep inside of me, panties shoved to the side, and I'm twisted and arched, riding his hand like it's going out of style.

"Oh God!" I cry out.

"Just call me Damon."

I would call him out for that particularly cocky remark, my thoughts are all tumbly, and his thumb is on my clit, and there are fireworks in my bedroom. That's new.

His other hand works it's way up to the clasp of my bra, and I feel him slowly pull it off of me. Now, he isn't hesitating; now, he's just teasing. He's stroking my insides and thumbing my nipple and I don't think I'll ever be able to speak again. I mean, these little whimpering noises that I'm making are just fine for the occasion, but they really aren't particularly communicative.

He apparently disagrees.

"I love these little noises you make," and he takes my nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth.

"Gah!" is my response. No shit. That's all I can articulate.

As he continues to thrust his fingers into me, I'm digging my nails into the skin of his shoulder, under his shirt. My eyes are closed because I can't even see straight right now, but when I finally drag them open, I move my hands up to grab his head and force him to kiss me. His free hand replaces his lips and there is so much pleasure shooting through me right now, I'm surprised I haven't completely dissolved yet.

He quirks his fingers in a 'come-hither' motion, and sweetheart, I'm having no problem coming right now. I can feel the coil tightening more and more as my toes curl behind his back and my teeth tug on his bottom lip. I'm making these weird noises that I never even knew I could make, and it's all too much and...

"Damon, yes, I -"

Everything rushes through me at once, and I'm like liquid in his arms, curled around him as he continues to slowly move is fingers in and out of me. And I'm still making these really neat little keening sounds.

So glad the house is empty.

His free hand was stroking my hair, but it suddenly tunnels in and pulls my head back. And, God help me, I am so turned on by that.

"Fair warning," he all but growls, "The next time you accuse me of hesitating, you probably won't be able to walk for a week. Understood?"

I smile at him, still euphoric and totally loving that he's still inside of me.

"I'm looking forward to it," I quip, and he drags me back down for a smouldering kiss.

"Now," and he's speaking between kisses, which is awfully sensual, I think. Maybe it's just that his voice is travelling directly from his vocal chords, down my throat. "How attached are you to these panties?"

"Well considering I'm in them...?"

He wiggles his fingers and I gasp into his mouth. "Technically, I'm in them too, and I really don't care all that much for them."

I giggle and push him down onto his back as he tears the fabric from my hips and tosses the scraps across the room. Then I lean down to kiss him just as he grabs my hips and lowers me down onto him.

"Oh God Damon!" I hiss out, arching back and gasping at the sensation that this union has exhorted.

Neither of us really moves for what seems like forever, as I allow myself to get accustomed to him.

"You're perfect Elena," he gasps, and I fall forward to kiss him again.

As his tongue massages mine, I slowly start to gyrate my hips, and he starts to grip me harder, tighter. I love it. He starts to guide me, moving me with the strength of his arms. I sit back up and allow my fingers to dance all over his chiseled torso.

"You know," he grunts, "I've spent a long time waiting to make you scream."

"Ha! You go out of your way to scare me. You make me scream every day."

He pulls me back down, and I think he wants to kiss me again, but he pulls back at the last second to whisper into my ear.

"There's a difference, Elena, between that kind of screaming, and -"

A scream erupts from my open mouth as I'm suddenly slammed onto my back and he finds a new angle to drive deeper inside of me.

"- This kind of screaming," he chuckles darkly.

He keeps pounding into me, hard and fast, and I can't do anything but scream and scratch trails down his back. In the moments when I can focus my eyes, I see him smiling mischievously, but there's so much love reflected in his gaze... Oh God, this man will be the death of me!

He ducks down to suck and nip at my throat, my shoulder, my ear, before switching to the other side. And he's still moving so hard inside of me that I wouldn't be surprised if my legs are locked in the rather upright position they're in now.

"Damon?"

"Yeah?"

"Ah! I need – God – I have no idea – Ah! I just – AH!"

He laughs at my incoherent efforts, but seems to get the gist as he captures my lips roughly, groaning into my mouth as he swallows my screaming. One of his hands snakes down to circle my clit, and my entire body stiffens in expectation of what's coming next.

"Damon," I whisper, "Come with me. Please."

"Christ, Elena!" he mumbles back.

His hand moves from my throbbing bundle of nerves to grab the back of my leg and push it up further, allowing him further access as he moves faster and harder. My stomach tightens, and my heart is pounding in my ears, and all I can really hear is Damon's ragged breathing. I jerk my hips up to meet his one last time before he garbles out something in what I assume to be Italian, and I feel him explode inside of me and I am done. Completely and utterly finished as my inner walls clamp down on him and I feel like he's filled me from head to toe.

"Two years, huh?" I'm finally able to say.

He laughs, falling into the bed next to me. "Yeah; two years."

"Remind me never to doubt you again."


A few minutes later, I'm sitting against his chest, his legs bent and cradling me as he presses kisses up and down my back.

"Damon?"

"Mm hmm?"

I can feel his eyelashes on my skin, and it sends a tremor from head to toe.

"You know I'm still going tonight, right?"

Instead of answering, he simply huffs out a sigh against my spine, and I shiver again. His arms wrap around my stomach, and he strokes the skin of my midsection.

"Contrary to popular belief, I actually do learn from my mistakes. And every time I try and stop you from doing something that you feel that you need to do, one or both of us ends up dying." His arms tighten around me. "But that doesn't mean I'm okay with it."

I snake my arm up around his shoulder to play with his hair. I was right; it's totally soft.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. He said he wanted my acceptance about his plan, not my death, this time. Plus, if he wanted me dead, I would probably be dead already."

His lips pause in their progression up my neck. "That's not making me feel better."

I laugh. I can feel him pouting as he continues to kiss any part of me that he can, and I want nothing more right now than to suck that bottom lip into my mouth, and...

But alas, duty calls.

"I have to go shower again now," I murmur wistfully, because I really don't want to leave this bed, like, ever.

"No you don't. Just pin your hair up. You're fine."

"I probably smell like post-vampire sex."

I feel his lips quirk up into a smirk. "Exactly."

My head spins to face him so fast, I can't believe I don't have whiplash.

"Is this your way of marking your territory? You've effectively peed on me?"

His blue eyes are dancing with laughter. "Yep," he says, popping the P. "And I can do it again right now if you want?"

The appropriate answer should be, "Yes, I do want," but unfortunately, the alarm on my cell phone buzzes, dragging me out of my Damon-induced love-haze.

"I actually do have to get ready," I inform him, twisting out of his arms and hopping out of the bed. "But if you wait here, preferably naked, you can have me all weekend."

He looks around the room, then stretches out on the bed, his hands behind his head. "Done."


Klaus arrives at the house exactly on time, which doesn't surprise me in the least. Although, when you think about it, something that has eternity to leave would be more likely to be late, right? Whatever.

He doesn't say much as he offers me his arm and leads me down to his car. It takes everything in me not to recoil from him.

Neither of us says anything for the first few minutes until we get to a stop sign, and he sniffs, turns to look at me, and frowns.

"Well that's... Interesting," he says.

I smile at him in a way that I hope says, "You can't distract me tonight, so back off."

"Yes it is," I answer. "Now," I turn my body so I'm squared to him as he pulls the car forward slowly, "Let's talk about your plans for Stefan. You know, my boyfriend's brother.


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