AN: Thank you, everyone, for your reviews and your PATIENCE! I'm really busy with school and life. I'm hoping to update more in December, with sporadic updates until then. Also, big thank you for everyone who voted for me in the Bamon awards :)
Chapter 6
Wicked Cravings, II
Bonnie's POV
I groaned when I finally awoke. I was in a dark room, the only light was moonlight streaming in from two small windows behind me. I could smell dry blood in the air, could practically feel it crusting on the ground. My hands were chained down on a chair. I flexed my fists and tensed my wrists.
I blinked a couple times, trying to focus. What to do, what to do? Well, what would Damon do?
"What would Damon do?" Ugh. Don't want that becoming a thing.
Damon's body could break through this, but it wouldn't easy. They'd been injecting me with vervaine and playing wooden darts with my body all night. It hurt like a bitch! I almost cried! But of course, this is Damon's body, and physical pain doesn't trigger crying – it triggers rage.
Fudge, I thought, squirming in the chair. This isn't what I signed up for when I wanted to be a superhero. Who knew saving a compelled girl from being fed on would result in two teenage vampires trying to kick my ass? Who knew they'd be successful?
It's your trusting nature, I could practically hear Damon saying as I pulled at the bindings. Don't scratch the merchandise.
Deep breaths. Okay, Bonnie, think. This isn't the first time you've been in a life or death situation.
First time without your magic.
Ok, true. But who needs magic when you have… superhuman strength, crazy sharp teeth and the charm of a psychotic, STD-ridden, blood-sucking southern "gentleman"?
I sighed, and something in the corner moved in response. I narrowed my eyes at her: she was a small redhead with brown skin. She was wearing a dress with rhinestones that shone a bit in the moonlight that seeped through an upper window. Huddled in the corner, she was cradling her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.
I listened for her heart beat. Nothing. Vampire.
In the next room, I heard the chatter of the vampires that brought me here. They didn't seem to hear that I had regained consciousness, so I pulled harder at the bindings and felt them come loose. Damon's skin broke, bled and healed in moments.
"She has to drink," The skinny guy was saying in the next room. I could practically hear his fidgeting.
"It'll be dawn soon," the blonde growled. I knew it was him because of the surfer-affectation to his voice. Clearly not a Mystic Falls native. I almost felt bad for him… must be rough to be a surfer who couldn't see the sun.
In the dark, I turned my eyes to the small girl in the corner. She only looked up and towards the door when we heard the sound of footsteps as they left the house. They were off to find her a victim.
As soon as they were gone, she turned to me. Even in the darkness, I could see the streaks of tears down her face. She got up immediately and came towards me. Leaning before me, I could see her more clearly now. She was so young… maybe twelve? Thirteen?
"I'll save you," she said to me, pulling at the shackles at my hands. "They want me to… hurt you."
She thinks I'm human.
"Why?" I asked as she slid a hairpin from her hair and began twisting the locks.
She shook her head as her voice trembled. "They want me to be like them."
"Like them?" I asked.
"You won't believe me," she said with a laugh that was choking on tears.
"Try me." I said, pulling at the shackles to loosen the lock for her. Finally, she got one open.
Damon would've torn the chair apart and ran out of here, I realized. Possibly taking her heart from her chest as he went…
"They're vampires," she said, her eyes meeting mine. She had stunning brown eyes. "They want me to drink blood."
"Are you…" I began.
"They killed me," she continued, moving to the next shackle. She started twisting it, and as the moonlight hit her hands I could see how dirty they were: dried blood all over them, and it wasn't hers. "And they've been trying to… feed me all night." She paused to shudder. "I heard the last one screaming. They didn't even…" she shook her head, "They didn't even compel her not to feel pain or anything…"
Ugh, vampires – they were all the same. I growled, feeling the anger rise up inside of me. I clenched my fists and broke free from the shackles without thinking. The girl shot up and away from me, pressing her back against the door. Her eyes were wide and stunned.
"You're one of them," she whispered.
Standing up in the moonlight, I realized: she could see the black veins on my face. I towered over her like this. She must be terrified. I shuddered to think of how cruel and evil Damon must look… I knew that face, saw it seconds before his fangs pierced my throat…
What would Bonnie do?
"I'm one of the good guys," I assured her, and offered her Damon's sweetest smile.
She cowered instead, closing her eyes and spreading her arms against the wall like she was bracing herself.
Ok, so Damon didn't do sweet.
"My name is Damon," I tried again, "And I'm one of the good vampires."
"No such thing," she said, shaking her head.
"What's your name?" I asked her.
"Marie," she said.
"Marie," I said, "It's nice to meet you." I shook my hands free, flexing my fingers. I felt as good as new in seconds. Good old vamp healing powers!
"Yeah," she said, relaxing a bit but keeping her eyes on me.
"Who were the guys?" I asked, keeping my distance. I slid my hands into my pockets and waited for her to calm down enough to talk.
"Matty," Marie said slowly, "And this guy from California… he took Matty first."
"Marie," I asked her slowly, keeping an ear out for the boys' return. "Do you want to be a vampire?"
"No," she said emphatically, shaking her head. "No. I don't want this." She whispered: "I'm scared."
"Of dying?" I asked softly, knowing that was the alternative.
"No," Marie shook her head, "Of turning into a killer."
"You know," I said gently, wondering if Stefan could do something. Save her. Make her like him. But the thought of a troubled thirteen year old roaming the world for centuries, hating herself, trying to survive by tearing people apart, chilled me. "If you don't feed, you'll die."
"I know," she said, meeting my eyes with determination. She had strange wonder in her eyes when she looked at me, "I don't want this."
"Okay," I said with a firm nod as I heard returning footsteps in the distance. "Then you won't have this."
BDBDBDBD
When I got back to the Boarding House, Damon was waiting for me on my (his) bed. He was dressed in a strapless blue plaid dress, and was lying in what I'm sure he thought was a seductive pose on his bed. He was flipping my cell phone in his hands.
"Tried calling you," he said. I ignored him and walked straight to the shower.
He followed me as I stepped inside and began to strip my clothes. If he wanted to gawk at his naked body from awkward angles, he could be my guest.
"Where've you been?" he frowned, leaning against the bathroom door and casually tossing and catching my phone, "It's been a week."
"I was busy," I said, my voice sounding more venomous than I intended. I watched the dried blood fall off my hands and down the drain. I grabbed the soap and scrubbed harder. Out, damn spot.
"Too busy for me?" Damon asked, and I glanced to see his (my) face. He was batting his lashes at me.
"What do you want?" I asked.
He snapped his fingers and the water stilled in the air.
"Wha-" I turned around to glare at him. "My magic! You can use it?"
"I've been trying to tell you that," he spat out.
I got out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist. "Since when?"
"Since yesterday," he said smugly.
"Then you can turn us back!" I said excitedly. I caught a glimpse of Damon's body in the mirror. No scratches, no bruises. Nothing to show I had just ripped the hearts out of two young boys. No ashes on my skin, no burns to show that I had held a crying, scared girl in my arms while she disintegrated in the dawn. I shook the thought from my head.
It was rough being Damon.
"So eager to turn back," Damon narrowed his eyes at me.
"I'm not good at being you," I admitted.
"Shocking," he rolled his eyes and plopped on the bed as I perused his wardrobe. "I've only been telling you that all along."
"Well, change us back," I said, reaching for a pink shirt and khakis.
"Ugh," he shook his head at my choice of outfits, "I might have to if you keep picking my clothes."
"I like pink." I deadpanned, turning to glare at him. I pulled the khakis on first, and stole a glance in the mirror. Damon looked great topless in slacks. Preppy, yes. But it made him look smart and sexy all at once: way better than the emo black on black.
"Black hides blood stains," Damon said, watching me check him out.
I didn't answer and he propped himself up on the bed, lying on his stomach and resting my dainty chins and my dainty hands. He smiled up at me. "I'm hot, I know."
"Change us back," I said, "We can go through the Grimoire tonight…"
"I kind of like being you," he said. "Much easier to get into the girls' locker room."
I turned to frown at him, "Stop trying to rile me up."
"What's wrong with you?" He asked, getting serious. He narrowed his eyes at me. "You're not your usual chipper self."
"I hate myself." I admitted, sliding my arms into the pink shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. "I'm just like you."
"Not in your wildest dreams," Damon snorted. "I'm a bad ass. I tap veins. I break necks. I rip hearts from chests."
I met his eyes seriously.
"You didn't." He said, before a grin broke across his face. He slid off the bed and approached me slowly. Peering up at me, he smirked and it was unnerving to see his words come out of my mouth. "You killed someone. Finally!"
"No, not finally," I said, pushing him aside. He stumbled across the room, catching his balance before falling over and breaking my nose. I went to sit on the bed and cradled my head in my hands.
I could hear it all still: bouncing around in my head, the screams of the girl they had brought there for Marie to feed on. The look on Matty's face right before I snapped his neck. How Marie wailed at the sight in the background as I wrenched California's boy's heart from his chest. Then turning to Marie, holding Matty before her, waiting for her to say. Kill him or leave him? She closed her eyes, and before I could even think there was a hole where his heart should have been.
I held her hand as she disintegrated into dust. And in her final moments, she turned to me and wrapped her burning arms around me.
I could hear it all: the thudding of the victim's heart and how it slowed as I compelled her to forget it all. The shovel in the ground as I left California boy in a shallow grave. Damon's heavy footfall as I walked, stunned, back to town.
As I cradled my head, I felt the tears finally break free and stream down my face. Yes, Marie would haunt me forever: the look in her determined eyes to not be a killer, to die on her own terms. And the moment I became a killer - when California died, and I held his hands in my heart, and our eyes met for one horrifying moment. But even worst than that was Damon. I remembered how Damon's body felt after it ended. Refreshed. Rejuvenated. Almost humming with life.
How Damon could never feel the burden of his deeds on his body. He didn't ache like I did after a spell. He didn't tire. There was no evidence to show anything had happened at all. And that seemed so much worse to me: to exist unexisting, to save and end lives and have nothing to show for it.
No one knows where he's been and what he's been through, I realized. There were no scars to mark his battles. Not that it mattered. Life or death. It was meaningless to him.
"Will you stop blubbering," Damon frowned impatiently. His hands were crossed in front of his chest and he paced awkwardly about the room. "I can't watch myself sob."
"As if you haven't cried in the past two hundred years," I wailed in his voice.
"Stop it," Damon demanded, stomping his foot.
"Make me!" I said, wiping at the tears.
"You're more childish than usual," Damon said, looking down his nose at me.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Stop crying right this instant!" Damon insisted, hands on his hips. "Or I'll come over there and spank you!"
"I'd like to see you try," I snorted through my tears.
"Your wish is my command," Damon said, and I saw him mentally file that one away for later. Douche.
"At least you're not embarrassing me in public."
I sniffled at that, rubbing my hand against my cheek to dry the tears. It felt so good to cry. My chest wasn't as tight as before.
"Yet," I said, pleased when he smirked at me.
"There's my wicked witch," he said, approaching the bed. He put his hands on either shoulder, and pouted at me, "Now tell daddy what the mean vampires did?"
"Pervert," I said, brushing his hands off of me.
"You can sit on my lap if it'll make it easier," Damon said, and then we both paused and our eyes connected and we laughed.
It felt better to laugh than to cry.
"I don't want to crush myself with your bony ass," I said at last.
"Save the lap sitting for later, too, then," Damon said.
"I killed a girl today," I said suddenly. Damon's eyes stilled at my words. They studied my face without the shifting or the narrowing or the psycho vamp eyes. They were just serious, and calm. Like he was waiting on my words.
"The sun came out and she died. And I just," I let out a deep breath, "Watched her."
"Why?" Damon asked softly. His reached out to grab my hand as it rested in my lap.
"She didn't want to transition." I said softly, glancing at our hands entwined. It should have been an odd sight but it was weirdly… comforting. "There were two vamps forcing her to feed and I…"
"Did the right thing," Damon said firmly. His eyes were sharp and angry when I met them, but they were distant too – like that anger wasn't for me. I watched as my jaw clenched and lips tightened: the unforgiving Bennett glare. Then he looked at me – really looked at me – and the look softened with understanding. "And the others?"
"Ripped their hearts out."
"That's my Bonnie," he said, and pulled me in for a hug. Even in my smaller body, he managed to press his lips to my forehead and stroke my back. "You must be tired."
"Exhausted," I admitted. Hungry.
"Rest," he agreed, and scooted backwards on the bed. I joined him, crawling toward him. I lay beside him, looking him in the eye for long moments and I saw the hardness in my own green orbs.
"I didn't realize…" I began, unsure of what I wanted to say exactly. But this strange appreciation for his cruelty, for his in-the-moment decision making, was welling up in my chest. For once, I felt like my moral compass wasn't quite as black and white as I thought.
"I know," he said, forcing a smile that I'm sure he thought was comforting but came off as arrogant ass. Even on my cute face.
When he reached out to stroke the side of my face, the moment felt surreal – like we were comforting ourselves rather than each other.
But I didn't think on it more as I slipped into a comfortable rest.
BDBDBDBD
Damon's POV
I didn't realize, she had said before she fell asleep. I imagine she hadn't cried like that since Jeremy died. And before that, since Grams died. Except no one important died, I frowned.
Girls, I thought with contempt as I left Bonnie sleeping in my bed, Who the fuck could understand 'em?
Not to mention the hormones! It seemed the after effects of a good old fashioned girly witch bleeding was a renewed surge of power. I could levitate stuff. It was awesome while it lasted (about two days), starting with all the naughty things I did to annoy Stefan and Alaric. Alaric was easy enough. Tie his shoelaces together. Big dopes go down hard. Stefan was a bit harder, but watching him walk into lockers all day was fan-fucking-tastic. And of course there was Elena and how a sudden gust of wind could send her skirt flying. Too bad she was smart enough to wear pants for the rest of the week.
But now Bonnie wanted me to break the spell?
I had gone through her grimoire earlier and found nothing beyond simply levitation that I could do. It was impossible. Magic - useless, as usual. I even tried the books in the Boarding House library while she was off playing S&M with the kidnappers. Nothing.
Not that she could know that. No, no, no. Bonnie was still the enemy. Bonnie was still the one dressing me up in pink tutus. The stronger she thought I was, the better.
As she slept, I crept out of the house and tried to get back to my exciting life. I went home to prepare for my fabulous lingerie slumber party pillow fight fiesta with Elena and Caroline, when I got her text.
Come over, it said.
NOW? I replied.
Hungry, she said.
Bonnie's first feeding. Dammit. I texted back: Heading to Elena's, be there in an hour.
Now, she said. I hesitated. Go to Bonnie in her time of need, or see half naked Elena bouncing up and down on a bed? When did this become a choice? I stuck to my guns and went for the obvious.
I went to Elena's first, a dark trench coat wrapped around me. Except the party didn't last that long. And I never bothered to untie my trench coat and reveal the delicate red matching bra and panty set I bought just for the party. Or the garter belt.
Because when I showed up, Elena and Caroline were sobbing over some movie with some blonde boy screaming in the rain at some chick with too red lipstick. And their faces were covered in goopy green face masks. Oh, and the lingerie? Sweat pants and tank tops.
When did life get this boring?
I took one look at them when they opened the door giddy and eager to usher me in, opened my mouth to say something apologetic, thought better of it and turned on one heel and headed to the car.
They called Bonnie's name at my retreating body, thinking it would convince me to turn around and come inside.
Au contraire, it just echoed the impulses in my head: Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie – that rang out until I knocked on her door and there she was.
Wrapped in my sexy body which was, for once, not wearing a drop of pink.
Sweet mercies.
"Bonnie," I said, walking in.
"Trench coat?" She frowned at me, "It's not that cold out."
"It is," I smiled slyly, pulling at the belt in one swift motion, "When you're wearing this." I stepped out of the coat and did a quick 360 as her jaw dropped to the floor.
"Wh-What what," she stuttered, reaching forward and grabbing the trench coat. She threw it at me and I laughed happily.
"It leaves the guys speechless, I know," I said with a cheeky faux-innocent tilt of the head. I strutted my way over to the closet and hung up the coat. Looking at her with wide eyes, I pulled my hair over one shoulder and said, "Hungry?"
She licked her lips. Black veins started to curl around her eyes. It was like she was devouring me, and I loved it. The old familiar rush of the predator turning their lusty eyes at you (oh, Katherine) was fresh in me again. I walked up to her and rested my hands on her chest, "They're your veins."
"Actually," she said, and her voice sounded deeper and throatier than usual. Goosebumps started to appear on my arms and I rubbed my hands against them. I must be cold. "I thought I'd make you dinner."
"What?" I said.
"You can eat half dressed if you'd like," she said, turning back to the kitchen, "At least you're not embarrassing me in public."
"Touche," I said, as I followed her into the kitchen. As I took a seat at the table, I was hit by the scent of lasagne. And garlic bread. And – oh dear – tiramisu.
"This is as Italian as I get," she said apologetically, gesturing at the spread. I licked my lips and we both heard my stomach growl in response. "God, I miss being hungry." I met her eyes meaningfully and she amended: "For food." Then she reached to a corner and held out a white t-shirt at me. There were red stains near the hem.
I raised a brow at her, and she caught my gaze and shook her head, "Tomato sauce. That's why I took it off."
Sure, I smirked at her knowingly as she tossed the shirt to me. I tugged it on over the lingerie and it hung loosely on my body where it had previously fit like a second skin.
She handed me a dish with two large portions and a glass of wine. I took it happily, and began to dig in when I noticed she wasn't joining me.
"You can eat," I said, cutting a piece of the lasagna and stabbing it with the fork.
"It would be useless," she said, watching as I raised the fork to my mouth. Her eyes were concentrated on my lips, and she licked her own as I took a bite. Even with my human senses, I heard her swallow as if she were salivating. I shifted in my chair. There was something strangely erotic about Bonnie leaning forward, licking and biting her lips as she watched me eat. It was almost like it wasn't the food she was craving.
If only she weren't in my big, masculine body, I thought to myself as I took another bite, I might take a bite out of her as well. With her eyes locked on my mouth and conversation stemmed, my mind wandered to lovely Bonnie in her own body.
We'll have to do this again, I thought. But then, Bonnie watching me feed isn't the same, and probably not quite as sexy. I could imagine her disapproving in the most unsexy of ways. Then again, there were other things to be eaten that weren't food…
When I finished the meal and dessert and felt wonderfully full and well fed, Bonnie started to pack up the food and do the dishes, mumbling something about Stefan taking some for Elena in the morning.
And then he appeared as if summoned. Stefan came into the house and nodded a quick hello at Bonnie as she waved emphatically back. And then his eyes turned to me, barely dressed, my red bra and panties showing through the shirt, and the garter sitting comfortable on my spread legs. I crossed them quickly, and he turned away – but not before I saw his eyes turn dark with desire.
I glared at Stefan, feeling the anger rise. He walked past a bit too slowly for a vampire. His eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary – something Bonnie herself would probably never notice. Live with a guy for a couple centuries, you get to know their habits.
Post-switch to do-list, I thought: Spank Bonnie. Get Bonnie to sit in lap. Kick Stefan's ass for checking out my witch.
My hands curled to fists at my sides, and I clenched my jaw.
"What," Bonnie said, turning around to pick up my plate and slide it into the sink, "I thought you liked it?"
"I did," I said, "Thanks for dinner."
"You're welcome," she said.
"Now," I smiled, leaning over the table. I pulled Bonnie's hair to one corner and offered her my neck, "Your turn."
BDBDBDBD
Bonnie's POV
Feeding from your own neck was… weird.
I convinced Damon to take the party to the privacy of my room with minimal innuendos and wiggling eyebrows. It's not that I was trying to come on to him while he was still in my body (dude was all kinds of twisted). I just didn't want anyone to see me bending my neck to Damon's fangs… Even worse, I didn't want them to see me doing it willingly.
Especially knowing Damon and how he would likely go out of his way to embarrass me.
"Ooh," he moaned from his perch on my bed. "Damonnn!"
"I haven't touched you." I deadpanned from across the room. I leaned against the door, my arms across my chest.
"It's the anticipation," he assured me in a normal voice before flicking his hair over one shoulder and curling a finger at me.
"Why don't we do this in the bathroom," I mumbled… In case there was an accident. Or with the hospital on speed dial?
"No," Damon insisted with a practiced pout. "This is the perfect, perfect spot."
I rolled my eyes and walked over. "Ok," I let out a shaky breath as I sat on the bed beside him, "How do we do this?"
"You're such a virgin." Damon frowned. "You have zero sex appeal, you know that?"
"Well, I am trapped in your body!" I barked back as he grabbed my arm. Even in my smaller body, he managed to pull and push me until I got the hint and took a seat behind him. Damon was perched between my (his) legs, exposing my brown neck to his fangs.
"How do I make them…" I muttered.
"Focus on my pulse," Damon said. I did.
His heart was pounding. I reached out to touch my skin, wondering how much it would hurt when his fangs were there - was it the kind of pain my body would remember? – when I heard his heartbeat pick up. It was thudding like a dancing drum. I ran my thumb down my nape – that was the spot I most loved to be kissed on. Weird, seeing it from this angle. Tentatively, I pressed Damon's lips to my pulse spot and heard a sharp intake of breath.
"Just bite me," he demanded, but it came out more a whimper.
"You're enjoying this," I accused, recoiling in horror.
"You would be too if you had my view," he said, turning to smile at my from behind his shoulder.
I glanced ahead of us and sure enough. There was a mirror.
"You're disgusting!" I yelled, reaching behind me to throw a pillow at him.
"You say that like it's news," he said, nodding for me to return to my position.
"You're totally getting off on me biting you," I growled under my breath.
"I'm not going to deny," Damon said as he reached out and grasped my hands in his. He pulled my forward, cinching his hands around my waist. He was seated in front of me again, tilting his head so I could access my pulse. The pull was so strong, I could practically see it beating under my skin. "That this is one of my fantasies."
"Being bitten?" I asked, though my mind was only half on his words. The pull of the blood was so, so strong. I could feel the need buzzing through my veins. The fangs were extending. The desire was rushing through me, and I had to increase my grip over Damon just to anchor myself to some sort of reality.
"Biting you," he said. I glanced forward and saw his eyes glued on the reflection.
My eyes were black, unfocused circles with veins extending throughout them. I turned away from the image, burying my face in his neck to calm myself.
"Do it," Damon's voice came to me like it was resonating in my head. It didn't sound like my voice. It didn't look like my body. It was like I was floating on another plane entirely. "Bite me."
So I did. I forced myself to scratch a thin line down my own neck and lap at the blood there.
The blood was weird, with a hot, thick metallic taste that I wouldn't soon forget. But it wasn't that that had me latching on for more.
It was a rush: the power, the strength, the way the world burst into bright, vibrant colors. It was intoxicating. Damon reached out to hold my lips to the spot. In the periphery of my hyper senses, I heard his breathing increase, saw the rise and fall of my own breasts in red lingerie.
Damon let out a content sigh, and I felt my hands flex around him instinctively.
"Bonnie," he said, and his words floated into the air voicelessly to spur me on.
And that's when I felt it. A boner. Pressing against my – well, my lovely brown body's – bare thigh from behind these suddenly way too tight sweats. Damon squirmed against me and it only got more noticeable. And then he stopped. Suddenly. He felt it too.
I released him from my grip just as he shot up. The weird push and pull had him tumbling to the ground, and he reached up at the last second to take me with him. With vamp speed, I managed to protect my witch body from bruises, but not my vamp body from humiliation
Because there it was. Practically staring us both in the face. An erection.
"Shut. The. Fudge. Up."
We were staring at each other from wide eyes. I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest – I could smell the sex in the air. Worst part? It only turned me on more.
"You want me," Damon gaped, his face contorting with disbelief. His words sounded so silly in my voice.
"No," I said, glancing down at the obvious erection, "YOU want ME."
"No," He said, glowering at me, a growl in my voice as he squirmed uncomfortably in the red panties, "You want me."
And then he smirked. "Not that I didn't know that already."
