prompt: an all powerful witch, a calloused vampire and thousands of miles to forget where they came from.
pairing: stefan x bonnie
word count: 1,091
"You really should quit, you know."
Pale fingers criss-cross trails of red across her skin as he reaches for her, drags her by the ankles of her two naked legs to the edge of the bed and plucks the cigarette from between her pouty, swollen lips. Her hair is arranged in a fashion of the highest post-coital design and she's got purpling bruises across her chest and collarbone. She frowns and he mimics her sour expression mockingly, even as her skin sings a sweet fragrance to his senses.
Vanilla. Sweat. Sex.
Blood.
He's surprised she'd let him in this far, close enough to kiss, to touch, to bite. But ever since they'd climbed into his cherry red porsche and kicked up dust on their way out of Mystic Falls, she has unfolded before him like a flower, blossoming in spring. She chooses their destinations and their adventures. He lets her.
He can't decide if he wants to pluck her for himself or allow her to keep growing higher into the sky and leave him behind on earth. He supposes, with the immense amount of power she has coiled tight in that little body of hers, that the choice really isn't his at all.
"You really should stop telling me what to do. I've barely started."
"It's poison." he murmurs, and then pulls her up to suck her bottom lip between his teeth. She groans in spite of herself, before sending a zing of electricity up his chest with one fingernail. He's grown used to this. Her tiny displays of magic fascinate him just as much as they turn him on.
She's never violent and there is never pain. She gives him just enough for it to be erotic, to be exhilarating.
"You're poison," she fires back.
"The best kind." he smirks, daring her disagree. She does not comment on how his lips curling upwards screams of his brother, of the genetic traits that have not been lost after all. Instead she allows him to crawl between her thighs, iridescent jade eyes trained solely on the contraband between his fingers.
Smoking had not become her thing until she'd decided to stop being so self-righteous and try everything once. Yolo-Bonnie had appeared around day two of their adventure and ushered in her existence with many new experiences. One of them was buying a pack at a gas station somewhere in Tennessee.
The first time had not gone well. She'd coughed until her lungs felt burnt out and withered, amongst a slew of expletives that had him fighting back a grin. The second was not so bad. The third time she and Stefan had shared one. It was their third week on the road, before they'd begun to exchange more than just words and glances. He'd felt her eyes on him, mesmerized as lips touched lips secondhand. As his mouth wrapped around the thin white stick, she'd announced that she thought she'd finish the pack after all.
She'd smoked them all sporadically since then, making the pack last. He just so happens to know that this is her last one.
"Maybe it's time we find you a new habit."
She pouts. "But I like this one for now."
"And I like you."
Her teeth make an appearance to nibble the flesh of her bottom lip, though he does not get a response. He doesn't need one. Everything plays out so clearly across her face. Driving across state lines has unveiled a whole new Bonnie Bennett but flickers of her old self still come out to play once in awhile. She can be pensive, thoughtful, hesitant - just for a moment - and then the emotions always flit away.
He likes it. He'd never considered the possibility of rolling around in the sheets with a witch - this witch - but he enjoys how easily she can volley between her humanity and the supernatural power racing through her blood. It's not so difficult for a witch as it is for a vampire, after all her baser instincts are not to kill and maim in order to survive, but it is incredible all the same.
She can call hellfire down from the skies, strip the flesh from his bones with one word, but her thin fingers still reach for his warmth in her sleep. He always pulls her closer.
"I want you to live forever. Sans chemicals and tar in your lungs." He says, and his tone is nonchalant, joking even, but his heart is not quiet. He decides to digest what this means at a later date. "Don't you want to live forever?"
She turns up her nose in disgust. "If I did then I'd have to be like you."
Her disdain for his nature does not hurt his feelings. She has long made it her feelings in regard to vampirism clear, and he can't fault her. She has suffered much but she has also made exceptions for the few lucky enough to earn her respect, her affection. He has been blessed to be one of them.
"I'm not so bad, am I?"
"I don't know, Ripper," she tosses the name at him with a teasing glare, even as her ankle draws a line up the back of his thigh. He has not been a Ripper for a long time, having finally allowed himself the chance to be without the unending self-punishment. Coming to terms with his hunger has made existence much more pleasant. She's quite aware of this.
She encircles him with her toned legs and constricts until they are skin the skin. The heat of her already begins to grow thicker, sweeter in the air.
He rolls the cigarette between his fingers and does not look away from her steady gaze as he swiftly chucks it carelessly over his shoulder. A breath of pleasure slips out of her mouth when he grabs her jaw without warning, pressing blunt teeth to her pulsing vein. The scent of her blood is tantalizing but she is even more so. His tongue and lips begin a trail of kisses that will end far, far away from the start. Even now, he pictures the finish line and his body reacts accordingly.
Hours later, the sun disappears over the horizon and they're still naked, still lazily spread out amongst the sheets. She hums to herself while fingers comb through his hair softly, nails grazing his scalp.
"I suppose you're not so bad after all." she whispers in agreement.
He only smiles and pulls her closer to him in the dark.
hi. idk where this came from, lol. more 2 come, maybe. bye.