“And how can I stand here with you,
And not be moved by you?
Would you tell me,
How could it be,
Any better than this?
Cause you’re all I want,
You’re all I need,
You’re everything, everything”
Lifehouse – Everything
Chapter 19: Everything
Damon stared unblinkingly at the coven of Cold Ones before him. Isabella had told him they called themselves a family – he mentally sneered the word – but he recognized them for what her fragile heart hadn’t at the time.
Wolves in sheep’s clothes. And his Isabella had been their little lamb for the slaughter.
A confident smirk painted his lips upwards. He wondered what they would think of his Isabella who was more like a tigress now that she believed in herself. Though their timing could’ve been better, he was still damn near giddy with anticipation for the confrontation.
This would be her defining moment. His Isabella would be able to emerge from her cocoon and spread her wings, making those who had underestimated her and tossed her away regret their actions. Closure, Damon thought. The small lingering doubts haunting her mind would fly away with this moment of closure.
With his hardest glare, he faced down each one of the Cullens, mildly annoyed that doucheward and the Pixie had brought their whole family with them, as if they needed backup and couldn’t fight their own battles.
The tall blonde, Rosalie he recalled from Bella’s description, look bored but he could tell it was a front. There was anger in her, but also a hint of regret. For what, Damon couldn’t tell, but he didn’t think he’d have much to worry about from her. The linbacker next to her was surely her husband Emmett, and Damon thought he looked rather like a kicked puppy at the moment, his big eyes focusing on his Bella with genuine sadness. He knew from Bella that she’d missed the big lug greatly and was inclined to believe the sentiment was mutual.
Carlisle and Esme were holding hands, their expressions sad but also with an underlining disapproval as they looked between him and Isabella. It only made Damon’s resolve strengthen and his smirk widen. Of course they wouldn’t approve of them together; they probably expected her to welcome back the penny-haired string bean with open arms.
The Pixie was looking pleadingly at Bella, but he was proud that it seemed to have no effect. He knew he’d have to watch that one. The witches he’d met throughout the years who had similar visions tended to let it go to their heads, thinking they knew best for everyone and manipulating others using their premonitions. From Bella’s stories of their past interactions, he believed the Pixie guilty of the same charges. He hoped Isabella had taken his warning from their car ride to Mystic Falls to heart and stayed on her toes with the fortune teller.
The Cold One next to her gave Damon slight pause, tensing up as his sharp eyes swept over his lithe form and the scars that covered him. He took their warning seriosuly, knowing that if it came to a fight, this was the one he would have to worry about. Though Damon was often confident to the point of arrogance, only a fool would underestimate the Major. Jasper Whitlock had been a name he’d heard even in his human years. The youngest Major in the Confederate Army. Their paths had never crossed, but his reputation spread far and wide quickly. Even more so after his turning.
Currently, the deadly man stood next to his annoying wife in a casual pose Damon easily recognized as being a lie. He appeared at ease, but he was poised to spring and attack at any moment should a fight break out. He recognized the posture easily enough as it was one he himself was currently using and the calculating glint in the Major’s eyes told Damon he realized that just as well.
Still, Damon remembered Bella telling him about spending time with Jasper. At first, he’d been mildly horrified that one of the Cold Ones to have hurt his mina was the infamous Major, but as she recounted their interactions together he could tell Jasper had held some sort of respect for her. He wondered if her courage and unwavering acceptance of them had won his esteem. He remembered Isabella telling him that Jasper had once told her she was worth it, and Damon hoped the Major still believed that because though a part of him would relish the fight between them, he didn’t want Isabella anywhere near such a fight.
Recalling that the Major was an empath, he sent the Cold One a silent message, focusing on his grudging respect for the obvious warrior, as well as his determination and willingness to defend the woman behind him at all costs.
Jasper cocked his head to the side curiously before his lips twitched some and he ever so slightly inclined his head in acknowledgment. Time would tell on that one, though.
Finally, Damon focused on the last and, in his mind, the more serious opponent. Not for fighting, he sneered at the boy, but it was clear as day that the douche still fancied himself in love with his woman and had come to her, intent on winning her back.
Over my double dead body, you mother fucker, he thought at the dick, enjoying the way his eyes darkened to black at Damon’s knowledge of his ability.
That’s right, dipshit. She told me everything, his smirk widened as Edward tensed in anger.
“You told him about us,” he snapped at Bella, causing her to flinch at the abruptness of the accusation.
Damon went rigid and opened his mouth to let some scathing remark fly, but was silenced by Bella’s hand on his shoulder as she came forward to stand at his side.
“Of course I did,” she said with quiet firmness. Damon’s heart warmed at the strength vibrating in her words. “You abandoned me and made your point very clear. I don’t owe any of you anything, least of all loyalty.”
“I lied, Bella. That day in the woods was all a lie I made for your protection,” Edward took a step towards them and Damon moved forward slightly in response, smirking with a derisive sniff when the boy froze.
What a pussy, he thought with another smirk just for him.
His words had no effect on Bella. All she said was, “How convenient for you then,” in a bored and disparaging tone that clearly wounded the mindreader who flinched at her dismissal.
“Bella,” the pixie started, but Isabella cut her off.
“No,” Bella said. “I don’t know why you’re here, or why you’ve apparently been trying to find me, but it matters little. You’re not welcome here.”
“You have to believe me, Bella – I love you,” Edward said. “I didn’t want to leave, but I did it for you.”
Bella nodded, but Damon could feel the trembling anger throughout her body as her grip tightened on him. “I do believe you,” she said scornfully. “It’s just the sort of condescending, demeaning and fucked up thing you would do. You say you lied like it should matter and should change things, but it doesn’t. It changes nothing. Whether you lied that day or not, you’re still a condescending ass with no respect for my feelings or opinions. Let’s just pretend that at least part of what you told me was true and you keep your promise about my never having to see you again.”
Edward’s shoulders slumped with her every word and Damon couldn’t help but mentally gloat and rub it in.
How does that feel, Doucheward? You may have let her go, but I’m not an idiot. Maybe I should be thanking you for being stupid, eh? Thanks for being a colossal moron and sending her straight into my arms, dickward. I know a good thing when I have one and I’m not letting such a gift go. How’s that sound, dickless? Sincere enough for you?
Edward grimaced and gave Damon a thoroughly disgusted look. “And you’re with this guy now, Bella? Really? You were drinking his blood – do you any any idea what that means or has he been lying to you? He’s not safe, Bella. The way he thinks…” he trailed off and shuddered causing Bella to laugh.
“I know exactly who and what he is, and I adore the way he thinks,” she said the last part suggestively and pressed her still aroused body into Damon’s, causing his smirk to lighten into something more genuine as he looked down at her and wrapped her up in his arms.
“I like the way you think too, mina,” he murmured suggestively, his mind thinking about how she’d been such an active participant in their lustful embraces.
Edward growled. “Don’t think about her that way! How dare you disrespect her like that?!”
“Disrespect?” Damon laughed derisively. “There’s nothing wrong about what we do together. And in case it’s escaped your attention, you have no say in what other people think. In fact, if I wanted to think about the time I had my finger buried deep inside – ”
“Stop it,” Edward cut him off in a hiss.
Damon stopped talking, but didn’t stop thinking about the memory. He remembered the way Isabella explained how the mindreader’s gift worked. He could only hear surface thoughts, what a person was thinking only in the moment, and the others had often used that against him and kept certain thoughts he found distasteful going on loop to force him out. This gift, like with the pixie, had given him a false sense of superiority and Damon was enjoying thinking about his and Isabella’s past encounters and pissing the little douche off.
“Why don’t you make me?” Damon grinned.
“Easy there, big boy,” Bella tapped his shoulder. “I’m too tired after today’s events for another fight, entertaining though it would be.”
Damon rolled his eyes, but eased up his thoughts slightly.
“So what’s your reason for tracking me down? Charlie said you went to his house looking for me and I’d appreciate it if you stayed the fuck away from my family. Say your piece and then leave. Damon and I have plans.”
“Bella,” Carlisle said in her peacekeeper voice. “We don’t want to upset your life anymore than we already have – ”
“Bullshit,” Damon coughed.
Bella smacked his shoulder, but he grinned unrepentantly. “Get to the point, Carlisle. If it’s about Victoria, save your breath, we already know.”
“I’ve had some visions of her tracking you down, Bella,” Alice said. “She’s creating an army.”
Bella shrugged. “Like I said, we already know.”
“It’s dangerous,” Alice persisted. “We’ve come to bring you home with us, where you belong.”
“It’s not up to you to decide where I belong,” Bella glared. “Only I decide that.”
“But my visions,” Alice started.
“Are subjective,” Bella cut in. “You’re not foolproof. We know about Victoria. Thanks for the heads up and goodbye. I don’t want to see any of you again.”
“Bella, love, please…”
“Don’t fucking call me that you dick!” Bella shouted.
“Listen to yourself! This isn’t you Bella! What happened to my shy, sweet girl? This is his influence. This isn’t you!” Edward shouted desperately.
Bella shook her head pittingly at him. “This isn’t Damon, Edward. This is you. You did this to me. You took my love, my faithfulness, and my innocence and crushed them. Damon found me – he saved me, from Laurent, from Victoria, from myself… and now from you too. If I had continued to let my weakness and sorrow rule me, I would have taken you in the instant you came slinking back. But Damon gave me strength and self-respect. He’s saved me from having to live under your thumb, under your stifling overprotectiveness and controlling ways. Damon is everything to me and you are now nothing.”
Pride swelled within his chest. There may have been a time he would have accepted Isabella’s declaration flippantly, but she had changed him for the better as well, at least where she was concerned. He took great pride in her words, in her faith in him. It made him thankful every second of every day that he’d gone to that pissant town and found her. Thankful that he’d opened himself to her, slowly but surely, and grateful that he’d taken measures to ensure that this douche had already lost the war for her.
Edward’s head tilted as he listened to Damon’s thoughts, and Damon couldn’t help but gloat.
“Wife?” Edward said quietly. “You called her your wife earlier.”
Clever little bitch, Damon thought, tensing as his mind automatically went to a memory he fondly replayed in his mind often.
“You,” Edward trembled in his fury. “What started out as a cover wasn’t enough for you, was it? You got her drunk and married her for real, without her knowing.”
Bella froze but bravely kept a blank face.
“You got her drunk – you tricked her,” Edward continued, sensing a slight opening for attack. “You used her.”
“He did no such thing,” Bella surged forward defensively, indignant on his behalf.
“He did,” Edward spat. “He tricked you, Bella – don’t you see?”
She wasn’t supposed to find out like this, Damon worried, but he could see how this might be the most opportune moment for him so he remained silent, knowing Bella would take it for the admission it was.
He knew Bella well enough to see the anger she hid from them. She’d once been terrible at lying, but time with him had absolved her of that and he was confident that none of the Cullens, save perhaps the empath, could detect her ire as she said dismissively, “It doesn’t matter, Edward. I would’ve said yes anyway.”
“Do you even hear yourself, Bella,” Edward spat.
“Do you hear me, Edward?” she threw back. “It certainly doesn’t seem like it because you’re still here.”
Edward took another step forward, his fist clenched as if he might actually take a swing at her.
“That’s close enough, Saturday Night Fever. The next step will see you missing your head.”
“Bella,” Alice said patiently but sounded terribly condescending. “You need to come with us. We can get this farce of a marriage annulled and you can be happy with Edward again. I know. I’ve seen it. I still see you as a vampire, Bella.”
“I bet you do, Miss Cleo,” Damon sneered. “But stop misleading her. What kind of a vampire do you see her as now?”
Alice tightened her lips and looked away.
“That’s what I thought,” Damon snapped. “Listen, we’re done talking now. Next person who tries to force Isabella into making a decision she doesn’t want will find themselves without a head. Now kindly get the hell off my property.”
“I’m not leaving, Bella,” Edward said determinedly. “Victoria is a serious threat whether you want to admit it or not.”
“Then maybe you should have taken care of her when you actually had the chance,” she said, and Damon knew the hit was true when Jasper flinched. He out of all of them should have known better than to leave a deranged, revenge seeking mate alive.
“We’ll leave for now, Bella,” the Major finally spoke. “What’s between you and Edward is none of our business and we’ll leave that for you two to resolve,” he gave his wife a glare when she went to interrupt. “But I intend to stay until Victoria is taken care of. It’s the least I can do for you.”
“Thank you, Jasper. You know I never blamed you for that night, right? You can’t help who and what you are.”
He nodded, smiling slightly at her. “I know, darlin’.”
“I have nothing else to say to any of you. You all can leave now,” Bella said.
Damon snorted. “You don’t have to go home but you sure as hell can’t stay here.”
“We’ll be in town, Bella,” Edward said. “I’m not giving up on you.”
It sounded more like a threat than a devoted promise.
“You already did give up on me, Edward,” she said tiredly. “Just leave.”
They all looked at her with various pleading expressions, but when faced with her stony look, they zipped out of the yard to crawl back under whatever rock they’d been hiding under. Though Damon recognized it as only a temporary retreat.
There was a long moment of silence between him and Isabella.
“Inside. Now,” she said in a clipped angry voice.
“Yes ma’am,” he said airily, even though a large part of him was genuinely concerned about her reaction over the little secret doucheward had let out.
Guess that cat’s outta the bag, he thought as he followed her into the house.
Despite the situation, he was relieved she knew the truth. He’d never opened himself up to anyone as fully as he had her and having that one last secret had weighed heavily upon him.
“Is it true?” she asked quietly once they reached his room.
“Yes,” he admitted quickly.
She nodded absently, the silence between them deafening.
“Say something,” he said, unable to stand the weight of her silence.
“What do you want me to say?” she asked quietly.
Damon moved in front of her and said passionately, “I want nothing less than for you to speak your mind and stand up for yourself with me, as you’ve done before, like you just did with them.”
Again, she nodded. “I think – I think a part of me knew we got married. I’ve been having dreams,” she said slowly.
She sounded weak, unsure, and it wounded him far deeper than any amount of yelling would have.
He nodded. “Yes you have.” It was one of his greatest pastimes, listening to her talk in her sleep. Occasionally he’d hear her mumbling about a room with gold wallpaper and a chandelier, the chapel he’d taken her to inside Caesar’s Palace.
A twang of relief hit him as she gained more strength and momentum while yelling at him. “And it is just like you to trick me like that.”
“I didn’t trick you. It was your idea.”
“Don’t lie, Damon,” she hissed.
“I’m not,” he spat back, just as angrily. “I’ve never lied to you, mina.”
“Oh really, because I think this situation disproves that little tidbit.”
“Isabella,” he ground out. “I never once lied to you. I never said if we got married or didn’t. It never came up and you never asked.”
“A lie of omission is still a lie, Damon. And I don’t buy for one second that it was my idea.”
“Oh, and why is that? Can’t see yourself married to someone like me? You’re too good for me?” he sneered defensively.
She gave his chest a useless shove. “Don’t you turn this around on me, Damon Salvatore. I’m going to die for you – does that smack of me not wanting you enough?”
Inwardly, a small part of him loosened and unfurled with the present-tense confirmation of her intention to transition. “Then why’s it matter that we’re married? Seems like the lesser change of the two, mina.”
“It matters,” she scoffed. “That you didn’t ask me.”
“I know – you asked me,” he stressed, then shrugged. “And I said yes.”
“I’d never,” she said.
“Not usually,” he allowed. “But you were drunk and you were all, ‘no one wants me,’ ‘you’re all I have, Damon,’ and ‘you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’ Then boom – you said let’s get married and I said okay.”
She sputtered. “Well, even if that’s how it happened, why in the world would you agree? Of all the irresponsible, selfish…”
“Why do you think I call you mina,” he cut her off, knowing that it was time to lay it all out on the line and that if she gained too much momentum she would railroad him flat. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but still.
“I don’t see what that has to do with what we’re talking about, Damon,” she huffed.
He grabbed her upper arms, leaning down to stare into her eyes. “It has everything to do with it. What do you think it means when I call you mina?” he asked again.
“Other than the fact that you have an unnatural fondness of nicknames?” she smarted.
“Isabella,” he said firmly and she sighed and said, “It’s from Dracula – Mina Harker. You’re teasing me about my fondness for vampires.”
“No,” he said softly, cupping her cheeks and giving her a small smile. Some of her irritation left as she took in his seriousness. She covered his hands with hers and whispered, “Then what does it mean, Damon?”
It was a plea for something she had been secretly hoping for, but was too scared to admit to it. He knew well what she wanted, what she deserved, and though a part of him was still reluctant to give someone that kind of power over him again, he knew it was no less true even if he didn’t admit it.
And Isabella Swan deserved more than just the suspicion of his affections. She deserved the admission. He’d been entirely too selfish with her, not that he could help himself as it was in his nature to be selfish, but he’d promised her he’d try. Even if she couldn’t accept it now, eventually she’d come to see that part of his own selfishness was enabling her to be selfish herself… because she was just as greedy with him as he was with her.
“Mina,” he began. “Means mine in Italian. Since the moment I started calling you that, Isabella, I knew you were all I never even knew I needed. And while, yes, I also mean it in the possessive sense, it literally translates to a mine which is entirely appropriate because I always knew you had it within you to ignite. And I also knew I wanted to be the one to help you find your spark.”
“Damon,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
“Don’t you get it, mina?” he asked, emotion making a lump rise up in his throat but he swallowed it back determinedly. “I accepted your drunken proposal because I knew you’d never have the courage to ask otherwise, and I am too stubborn to ask on my own.”
“Damon,” she said in watery warble. “I love you.”
He closed his eyes and allowed her words to wash over him and soothe a deep wound that had been festering in his heart ever since he’d opened that tomb, even before them if he was being entirely honest. Victory warred with humbleness, her love making him feel invincible. “I know,” he whispered. “And I love you, mina.”
“I know,” she smarted with a small smile. “But I’m still mad at you.”
“I know,” he grinned. “But you’ll forgive me, mina.”
“I will,” she acknowledged. “Eventually.”
Damon smirked and cocked his head to the side to study her playfully. “I can give you incentive to forgive me sooner rather than later,” he offered.
She gave a tired laugh. “You can’t bribe me with kisses, Damon.”
He shook his head slightly. Sometimes he forgot how innocent she truly was. It was refreshing. He moved his arms around her and pulled their bodies flush together, so close that not even the light from the lamp could come between them. “I want to do more than kiss you, mina,” he breathed against her neck, loving how she shivered in his arms. “I want to follow through with what we were doing before those dickbags arrived. I want to do exactly what I told them I was trying to do – I want to fuck my wife.”
Bella’s mouth fell open in a delicate gasp and Damon took advantage of the offering, his mouth sealing over hers.
She moaned into the kiss and the vibration of it against his lips made him ravenous, thirsty for her love, her touch and everything else she willingly offered. He felt drunk on her and he wanted to taste more; everything she had to offer, he wanted for himself.
Selfish, he thought as his hands clawed at her clothes, dropping them carelessly to the floor. But he was mollified by her own desperate hands removing his shirt, her lips sloppily meeting his. She was just as selfish as him.
Clothes fell away and bare skin caressed bare skin. His hands dug into her hips no doubt leaving small bruises, but neither of them cared. He pulled her against him, his right hand slipping into her hair and holding her to his lips and his left working over her body, skimming her breasts and teasing her nipples, slipping down her sides, gripping her ass until it found purchase on her thigh and he hitched it up against his waist, groaning as he could both feel and smell her arousal.
“Damon,” she moaned and he’d never heard such a sweet sound in all his life.
“That’s good, mina,” he teased her with his lips against her neck again, leaving an impressive hickey in his wake. “But next time you call my name, I want you to scream it.”
“Shit,” she uttered as his lips took hers again, causing him to chuckle as he slowly moved her towards his bed.
They collapsed in a mess of tangled limbs, her hand finding him and squeezing teasingly. He lifted a brow and returned the favor, slipping his fingers against her, loving her gasping cries of pleasure.
“I could just eat you up, mina,” he muttered darkly, his hips moving against her hand as she pressed herself into his.
“Please,” she said in response and it felt like he’d died and gone to heaven.
“Mina,” he said lowly, and it wasn’t him calling her name. “Mine,” he said as he positioned himself between her legs and rubbed against her, testing the waters.
“You’re mine, Isabella,” he told her, slowly easing himself inside. “Mine. Say it.”
She gasped, a combination of pleasure and pain. “Mine,” she hissed. “You’re mine.”
He groaned and took her lips as he pushed himself flush against her hips and throbbed inside her, desperate to move, but unwilling to do so until her discomfort abated. So like her to deliberately misunderstand his meaning, but he had to give it to her; it was what he would’ve done in her position.
They remained frozen against each other, locked in the most intimate embrace a man and a woman could have. “Yes,” he confessed. “I’m yours.”
Her hands caressed his face and she smiled. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so radiant. “And I’m yours.”
He gave a timid thrust against her and was rewarded with a small moan. He smiled. Their previous encounters had been about surrendering; surrendering to their desires and to each other. This time, Damon felt like he was conquering; conquering her, himself, their pasts. It was all consuming and so much more than he’d even imagined it would be and more than it’d ever been before.
“You’re everything,” he swore to her, relishing the feel of being so deep inside her that it felt like he could touch her soul. “Everything.”
“Damon,” she half-screamed as he thrust into her harder.
“That’s better,” he smirked, and the last of her shyness melted away in a soft laugh as she threaded her fingers through his hair.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Much better.”
Unable to hold back anymore, Damon’s thoughts melted away and he lost himself to instinct and found himself within her. She moved timidly at first, but with growing confidence until she was meeting his thrusts and moans with a groan of her own, followed by intermittent curse words he was reasonably sure she was unaware of uttering.
He felt the pressure of his orgasm building and he moved more insistently against her in an unspoken bid for her to come as well. He could feel the ache in his gums, his vampire visage melting into his features as instinct took over.
But his Bella was not afraid, as he knew she wouldn’t be. She’d proven her acceptance of every part of him and never shied away from the strange beast he often alluded about lurking within him.
“Damon,” she moaned, and her head turned to the side making him growl at the perfect picture of submission she made.
But it wasn’t just submission she was offering him; it was acceptance, an offering of a gift he thirsted for but never thought to ask for it.
“Are you sure?” he barely managed to get the words out, each one sounding deep and gravelly with the effort of his restraint.
“I trust you. Always,” she gasped as he continued to move in her.
Twist my arm why don’t you, he thought, surging forward and licking the spot he had always favored before slowly sinking his fangs into her, drinking gently but thirstily.
Searing white hot pleasure jolted his body and whatever semblance of control he’d been trying to maintain melted away.
He didn’t remember her scoring his back with her nails, her surprised gasp as she came undone around him, or the broken record of his name being screamed from her ripe lips. He barely even remembered coming himself, growling against her neck in ecstasy.
When he collapsed on top of her, rolling over and pulling her into his arms, a deep exhaustion going beyond the physical seeped into them. Sleep welcomed them and all Damon could think of was the utter sense of rightness that loving Isabella had. A perfect rightness he’d never thought would be for him.
“I love you, Damon,” she slurred as sleep carried her away.
“Love you, mina,” he pressed a kiss against her forehead.
Yes, he thought to himself. This right here, this is right. This is what we were meant for.
The feeling followed him into his dreams and he resolved to feel right with her again when they woke up in the morning. Or afternoon, which was more likely after the day they’d had.
Yes, some afternoon delight sounded perfect.
(A/N): Now that was my very first lemon, and in Damon POV too, so I really want to hear the love now, lol! Thanks for reading 🙂