Author's Note: So, this one-shot is going to take place right around where TVD left off. Katherine is still in Elena's body, and Damon is still in his old ways. I'm completely obsessed with Bamon and the idea of what could happen between them on the show, so if you are too, please enjoy this one-shot. ;)

Bonnie could hear the loud music blaring through the Salvatore mansion as she tripped up the stairs. Elena had thrown a bash to celebrate the fact that her and Stefan were back together, which seemed absurd to both Caroline and Bonnie. Damon was nowhere in sight, which was probably a good sign. Ever since him and Enzo had rekindled their friendship, Damon had been up to no good. Being that he was emotionally unstable, attending a party that celebrated the relationship of his ex-girlfriend and his brother was sure to end in a disaster.

Bonnie regretted all of the booze that she had consumed that night; she couldn't even remember how many shots she had allowed Elena to give her. She regretted it even more after her conversation with Jeremy.

She blindly made her way through the hallway, bursting in and out of rooms that were occupied with horny couples. Finally, she reached an empty bedroom in the back of the house. She had never been in this room before, but then again, she hadn't been to the Salvatore mansion that many times to investigate the numerous rooms that the place held.

Thankfully, there was a bathroom in the room; she was seconds away from barfing all over the floor. She hurried into the bathroom and collapsed onto the ground, hawking up her pride into the toilet before flushing it all away. She let out soft moans, sinking down onto the cool tile.

Jeremy had broken up with her. No warning, no preparation; he just did it. He gave her some sorry excuse about the burden he was enduring when it came to her connection with the dead. It was too much for him to handle, and she was beginning to scare him. You'd think that a guy who died more times than you could ever imagine would completely understand her connection to the dead, which is why it hurt even more. There had to be another reason why he ended things, he just didn't want to hurt her even more than he already had. She hated him. She hated him because she loved him too much to try to let him go.

She didn't even realize that tears were streaming down her cheeks as she stood up to examine herself in the mirror. She looked an absolute mess; her mascara had run down her cheeks, her pupils were dilated, and her hair was all over the place; it had grown down to her shoulders by now. Staring at her appearance brought out the sobs that she was holding in. She popped the cap off of the mouthwash that sat on the counter and downed a good mouthful of it; she didn't even bother spitting it out.

She inched out of the bathroom, making her way toward the gigantic bed. She collapsed onto the mattress, burying her face into the white-sheeted pillow; she didn't care if she smeared her make-up all over it.

Her body began to vibrate as she bawled her eyes out. Her cries grew louder with each rhythmic beat of her heart; if she could undo the fact that she was even brought back, she would. It would spare her the heartache she was currently enduring.

Just when she thought matters couldn't get worse, the door to the room burst open. She didn't even look up to see who it was.

"Get out," she cried, her sobs continuing to stream relentlessly from her body.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is my room," the nonchalant voice muttered; it was a voice she'd recognize from a mile away—Damon.

She slowly turned on her back, horrified to picture what state her appearance was currently in.

"I didn't know," she whispered, sitting up in the bed. She grimaced at the black smudges all over the pillow. He did that wicked smile of his and slammed the door shut, trotting into the bathroom.

"It smells like puke in here," he called out, causing the pit of Bonnie's stomach to sink even more. Seconds later, he returned back into the room with a bottle of Bourbon and two shot glasses. Bonnie winced at the sight.

"You keep alcohol in your bathroom?" she spat. He wiggled his eyebrows and took a seat across from her on the bed.

"You're judging me right now?" he questioned, a light smirk on his face. She couldn't figure out why he was so smug about everything. She had broken into his room, puked in his bathroom and dirtied his sheets, yet he was willing to sit down and have a drink with her? "So, what are we drinking to?"

"If you couldn't tell, I'm already drunk," Bonnie slurred, turning away from the inviting smell of the Bourbon.

"Oh, I can tell," he said, his eyes roaming up and down her body. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel self-conscious at that moment. No one had ever seen Bonnie's drunken side, and she was silently thankful for that. "No one gets this shit-faced without having a valid reason; what's yours?"

Bonnie studied Damon's eyes for a minute before gulping loudly. "Jeremy broke up with me."

Damon widened his eyes for a split second before shaking his head and filling up one of the shot glasses.

"Bottoms up," he urged, handing it to her. Bonnie downed the shot, her face turning sour at how strong it was. She felt her body yearning for more.

"And what are you drinking to?" she wondered, even though she already knew.

"Elena and my baby brother are fucking each other again. Oh, and they're throwing a party to scream fuck you in my face," he stated, abandoning the shot glass and taking a long swig from the bottle. Bonnie stared at him dizzily, another tear inching its way down her cheek.

"It doesn't seem like it's bothering you," she admitted, tilting her head to the side. He looked up at her and frowned.

"Because I'm not crying with mascara rolling down my cheeks?" he spat. Bonnie winced at his words and ran a hand through her messy hair. Damon's face softened up as he poured another shot into her glass. "I'm just trying to say that I'm good at masking my pain."

"You mean you're good at channeling your pain through other things," she corrected, referencing the shenanigans he always ended up in when he was hurt. He shrugged his shoulders and took another swig.

"Whatever works, right?" he responded. She finished off her shot and cleared her throat.

"I know it's not fair to you," she told him, watching as his eyes slowly found hers. "I understand how it makes you feel. I know this probably won't mean much because… well, we've never really been the best of friends, but… I know you deserve to be happy. You don't deserve this."

"I don't deserve this? Bonnie, you're dead. And you want to know why you're dead? Because you brought that son of a bitch Jeremy back to life. And what does he do? He breaks up with you. If anything's not fair, it's that. I should go down there and rip his heart out for doing that to you," he growled; his eyes were sharp with anger. Bonnie gasped at Damon's words; who would have thought that he actually cared about anything that happened to her.

She didn't know what came over her; maybe it was the combination of alcohol and self-pity, or maybe it was the way that he was staring intently into her eyes, but she suddenly possessed the urge to pull his face closer to hers.

"Damon," she whispered, brushing her lips against his. He smiled coyly, running his fingers down the side of her caramel-toned cheek. He took the liberty of pressing his lips against hers, trailing his fingers downward until they rested on her thigh. She moaned softly, tangling her fingers through his hair.

His lips tasted like sweet liquor, sending jolts of electricity through her veins. She had never experienced something so distinctly blurry; her hormones were all over the place. As she slowly registered what they were doing, she pulled away from him.

"Woah," she breathed, rising to her feet. Had she actually kissed Damon? He looked taken back, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm… uh—I'm sorry."

As she moved to walk away, he gripped her wrist, halting her in place. She hissed, snatching her arm free.

"Why are you leaving?" he pressed. She scoffed, confused at the fact that he actually wanted her to stay.

"That was… wrong," she admitted, even though it felt dangerously right. It felt like she'd been craving that for a long time, without even realizing it. His eyes trekked her quivering body, causing her to part her lips.

"Sometimes you have to stop worrying about doing what's right," he began, reaching for her hand. She absentmindedly latched onto him as he pulled her into his lap. "And start doing what you want. I know you want this," he said, whispering the last part. Her chest was heaving erratically as his lips hovered over hers.

"What about Elena? What about Jeremy?" she whispered as she closed her eyes, leaning into him.

"What about them?" he declared, crushing his lips against hers. In that moment, she was done for; for some reason, she needed this more than anything.

He flipped them over so that she was lying on her back. His lips ghosted along the flesh of her neck before he bit down on it, causing her to gasp lightly. Damon moaned faintly at the taste of her delicious blood; he more so basked at the scent of her arousal—it was strong.

"Let's play a game," he murmured as he kissed along her collarbone. She bucked her hips in response, letting out a long breath. "The only name you can say is mine."

She moaned lightly at his words, opening her eyes wide enough to watch as he lowered himself to her thighs. He pushed them open as he slid her dress up, placing a long, soft kiss to her center. She bit down on her lip to suppress a moan, squeezing her eyes shut. She took the liberty of pulling her dress over her head, tossing it to the ground. Her bra was second to go.

"I want to hear you say it," he urged, ripping her laced panties from her body in one, swift motion.

"Damon," she breathed, scrunching her hands into fists.

"Say it louder," he insisted, trailing his tongue down her slit before wrapping his lips around her swollen clit.

"Damon!" she moaned, arching her back clean off of the bed—he still wasn't satisfied, though.

"Louder, Bennet," he demanded, plunging two fingers into her bundle of nerves, driving her over the edge.

"Shit! Damon!" she cried, rolling her hips into him. Her toes curled as he slowly added another finger, his lips never leaving her most sensitive spot. His tongue was running laps through her saccharine juices, exploring every part of her that he'd never imagined. He continued to venture her center tenderly as she chanted his name under her breath.

She hissed as she felt her walls clenching; it was coming too soon. All she wanted was to feel him buried deep inside of her.

"Fuck me, Damon!" she urged, throwing her head back. He looked up at her as he continued to tongue-fuck her recklessly.

"I'm sorry? I didn't quite hear that," he alleged; she knew that he was messing with her.

"Please," she begged, clawing at the sheets. Her walls began to tighten uncontrollably, causing her to mutter incoherent moans of indulgence. Before her body could burst with intense pleasure, he drew his head back and flipped her body over without warning. He bit down on her shoulder, savoring her tangible taste. She listened as he undid his pants, anticipating the moment that she'd feel him enter her. She was slightly disappointed that she wouldn't get the chance to watch as he did so.

As if on cue, she felt something large and thick slide into her core. She couldn't help the breathless whimper that escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size. She buried her face into the pillow as he pulled out, only to slam back into her. She squealed carelessly, her body begging for more.

"Damon," she let out, squeezing the pillow as he started to slide in and out of her at a constant pace. She could hear him breathing heavily as he gripped her waist passionately. He grunted lowly, speeding up his movements.

"Fuck, Bonnie," he moaned, grabbing onto her hair. Her melodic moans picked up as he drove into her; she never thought she'd be the one to enjoy rough sex. She could thank Damon for showing her something else that she didn't know about herself.

"Damon," she breathed as her eyes rolled back. She blindly felt around for his hand, lacing their fingers together. She used all of her energy to flip Damon onto his back, whining at their loss of contact.

He stared up at her through lidded eyes as she moved to straddle him. She caught a glimpse of his massive erectness, smirking internally. She positioned him at her core and slowly slid down onto him as they moaned in unison.

She began to rotate her hips over his, throwing her head back in exhilaration. She still couldn't believe that she was having drunken sex with Damon Salvatore, but she could honestly say that nothing had ever made her feel that good in a long time—not even Jeremy.

"Fuck," she drawled out, her hand still latched onto his.

"Remember the rules," he affirmed, desperately trying to hold on. She glared down at him, resting her other hand on his chest.

"Fuck isn't a name," she spat, moaning slightly afterward. She ground her hips down harder, determined to make him scream her name. His eyes fell closed as more sweat coated his forehead. He used his free hand to tickle her clit, causing her to lose all composure; she began shouting explicates throughout the room. She sped up her pace as she rocked onto him, screaming out as he bit down on her wrist.

"Damn, Bonnie," he uttered, bucking his hips into her; the room was filled with synonymous moans at the better contact.

She felt that familiar sensation at the pit of her stomach as she rode him to the best of her ability, listening as his low grunts turned into a tune of her name. That was exactly what she needed to hear as she came long and hard, digging her nails into his flesh.

She felt him cum inside of her seconds later with the same electrified facial expression that she held.

She rolled off of him, falling onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling, hoping that the conversation to come wouldn't be as awkward as she was picturing it would be.

"I'm not going to get pregnant from this, am I?" she asked dizzily, chancing a look at him. He chuckled lightly, rising from the bed.

"Doubt it. Vampires can't procreate," he stated. Bonnie couldn't help that her eyes wandered to his rear-end as he walked to the bathroom. He walked out seconds later with a fresh pair of pants, and a sinister look on his face.

"You might want to get dressed," he admitted. Bonnie narrowed her eyes as she sat up in the bed.

"Why?" she wondered.

"Because I hear Stefan coming toward my room," he smirked. Bonnie scrambled from under the covers, reaching for her dress. Damon eyed her hungrily as she quickly threw on her dress and attempted to fix her hair; there were so many things that he wanted to redo to her in that instant.

As if on cue, a knock sounded from the door. Damon raised his eyebrows at Bonnie, beckoning her to answer it. She grimaced before heading toward the door, inching it open. Stefan narrowed his eyes at the sight of her.

"Bonnie? What are you doing in here?" Stefan wondered, his eyes absentmindedly studying her appearance. Her face went flush as she thought up an excuse.

"We were just talking," she lied, brushing past him. Before he could respond, she was already making her way down the stairs. Stefan stepped into the bedroom, the scent bombarding his nostrils. He glared at Damon as he popped open a fresh bottle of wine.

"Wow, brother. Did you really think it was wise to have sex with Elena's best friend while she was right downstairs?" Stefan asked, crossing his arms. Damon scoffed as he downed half the bottle in an instant.

"Wise? Probably not. Fun? Absolutely," he retorted, wiggling his eyebrows. Stefan sighed heavily.

"You better make sure this night never leaves this room," Stefan warned, before stepping out of the room. After he was gone, Damon finally allowed his emotions to settle in.

Even though sleeping with Bonnie wasn't supposed to mean anything, he couldn't help the fact that it did. Despite them hating each other's guts, there was a soft spot that he held for the Bennett ex-witch/anchor, and there was no denying that.

Author's Note: Dang, I haven't written in a long time; I really hope my writing isn't too rusty in this one-shot! Let me know in a review! I love you guys; xoxo.