Matt felt a little uneasy being in Bonnie's presence again and he couldn't explain why.
There was something intimidating about her that had less to do with how stunning she looked and more to do with how the air seemed around her. Almost like it was being swallowed up.
Almost like she was undead.
However it wasn't recognizable, like how he felt with Stefan, Damon, Caroline, Tyler, it was a feeling that was foreign to him- he only knew he felt incredibly tired. While he was driving, his mind couldn't stop thinking about her- her safety, her beauty, her body, her voice, her smile, her eyes, that look she gave him and then he was dozing off right at the wheel.
She had to tap him on the shoulder and when she touched him, it felt almost...
Almost embarrassingly orgasmic.
Yes, as of late he had been immersing himself in files and cases. It was true, there was a never ending pile of work on his desk, emails that needed replies and people who wanted answers, but it hadn't been that long that a woman's touch- mere tap- could almost make him... you know.
What could he really say though?
Hey guys, notice anything odd about Bonnie? Did she almost give you a stiffy when she touched you, too? Anybody else feel tired or is that just me? And no, I guarantee you it's not the endless pile of shit disorganized on my desk that I have to work overtime to even see the end of. It's not me, it's Bonnie.
Yeah, right.
He could tell someone about it or he could save himself the embarrassment.
Anyway, Matt was probably overreacting in every sense of the word. Bonnie was a very powerful witch which was probably the reason his supernatural radar was buzzing. She was the only witch he knew and he hadn't been in contact with her in a very long time. Plus, he was long overdue for sex. Beyond overdue.
So it wasn't Bonnie, it was him.
Obviously.
~
Damon had won five out of the eight games Caroline created only because he sat the last two out.
The Bonnie Trivia, Bonnie Jeopardy, Witch's Brew (a drinking game,) and Bennett History were too easy for their own good. He barely broke a sweat. His only real competition was Caroline and she was a close second but going through literal hell and back created a new level of friendship, one she could never ever rival. Being the gentle soul he was, he let Caroline win the last game he played just so she could feel better about her friendship with Bonnie. She practically hated him anyway so it was the least he could do.
"No, nothing compares to the food in Louisiana. I wish you were human again, Caroline, the beignets are to die for." Bonnie was sipping from her mimosa, and chatting it up with Stefan and Caroline.
Matt had left early, something about being a human and an idiot, or at least that's what he heard, and Alaric had this pensive look on his face while Bonnie was speaking. Liv and Tyler left after the games, probably exhausted from playing footsy.
Damon was off to himself, thinking he should've brought his whisky since champagne and fruit juice was the furthest thing from badass vampire he could think of.
The most amusement now was coming from the catching up between Bonnie and Caroline.
"Soooo... there's no way you're single, Bon. You're smoking hot and we've been to New Orleans before. Eye. Candy. Everywhere." Caroline pressed, the sound of her nails tapping against the bar counter annoyingly loud.
He wanted to whip around and gauge her reaction to Vampire Barbie's question, but he was already committed to lounging sideways by the bar. That, and he could practically feel Stefan and Alaric's eyes on him for whatever reason.
"Girl, the men I've met- magical. But is it bad that I'm not looking for a serious relationship?"
Magical? What an embellishment.
"Absolutely not! We've experienced too many life or death situations, we need all the fun we can get. Especially you, Bon,"
"Right? They want to settle down right away and that's where I draw the line. They're so much fun where it counts though."
They did this girly little giggle thing and Damon had to stifle his eye roll. He was sure his friendship with Bonnie was far more entertaining than the toads from Louisiana. He could bet on it.
"But I do want to get married. Have kids. And honestly, Care, I never even thought of having kids until you had the twins. It was such a crazy circumstance but the babies are beautiful."
"They're not babies anymore! Motherhood will change everything about you. There's nothing you won't do for your kids. It's such a different, indescribable type of love, I wouldn't trade it for anything." Caroline gushed.
"I can only imagine. I want a little girl. Maybe a boy, too." Bonnie had a dreamy inflection in her voice.
"Awwww!"
"I know right! Ugh, I hate us for getting so mushy. That's how you know we're getting up there."
Damon was deafly quiet, picturing Bonnie in all her mystical essence, glowing, with an adorable drooling baby on her hip. The tiny brown baby with cute curly hair, a baby blue bib and big, baby blue eyes to match.
Emerald green eyes.
Bonnie's baby would have emerald green eyes or brown or hazel but absolutely not blue. His mind was playing tricks on him.
Caroline broke his train of thought. "Back to this marriage thing, tell me your textbook perfect guy."
There was a pause as she hummed and leaned forward on her elbows. No, Damon did not observe the way her cleavage pooled so perfectly over the seam of her dress.
"Honestly? He would have to be tall, dark, and-"
"Damon Salvatore, of course." Maybe it was his pride that spoke for him. Maybe it was the fact that he would've yawned if she continued any further with that sentence.
"How nice of you to intercept," chided Blondie.
"I felt obligated to, it was taking a frighteningly cliché path. Tall, dark and handsome, Bon, really?"
"Tall, dark and mysterious but, what can I say? I like my Byronic heroes."
"Bonnie, please continue, that's enough from the raging narcissist."
"You know what, Care, this might have to be saved for another time so I don't make you-know-who any more jealous than he already is." She joked.
"HA! Jealous? Not even a little."
"Yeah, 'cause we all believe you, Damon." inserted Alaric.
He narrowed his eyes in irritation at his drinking partner and scowled. "No one asked the grumpy old man."
"Which is everyone's point." Stefan deadpanned.
"Wake me up when you guys are done attacking me. I prefer to be blissfully unconscious during interventions."
Bonnie laughed before barely covering a yawn, everyone's eyes snapped to her like rubber bands. "While I hate to end the night, I think the jet lag is catching up with me."
That was everyone's queue to pack up decorations, and say their goodbyes for the evening. Bonnie apologized profusely to Caroline for her absence in the past and thanked her the same amount of times for the celebration. Caroline wrapped up what was left of the red velvet cake (birthday cake was too drab,) and started making plans for the next day while Damon packed his car with Bonnie's luggage, attempting to mask his excitement that his best friend who he hadn't seen in eight years was going back home with him.
Ha, in your face, Caroline.
Though she practically dozed off when she sat in the car, she had enough energy to muster, "can we watch The Bodyguard? For old time's sake."
He couldn't say no to that.
Driving felt a little odd, he felt overcome with a drowsiness that he deemed to be from the excitement of today. It hit him forcefully.
Stefan went back with Caroline so being alone at the boardinghouse with Bonnie gave him that sense of deja vu. It felt like the prison world before they knew Kai existed. It felt familiar and deeply comforting.
While she showered, he prepared popcorn and grabbed a blanket, then set up the movie for them to watch comfortably. In the morning, he planned to make pancakes, whip cream a BB and a DS on the respective stacks. His pancake making skills had gotten progressively better; it was one thing he used to make to remind him of her.
Bonnie made 1994 less haunting and more scenic. Sometimes it just seemed like their secret little hideout with no eyes to project on them, only the memory of their old friends, not even as real as a mirror's reflection. The bunny hole that was almost their own. Elena was there for a while, in the shadows, in the corners, the sun, the moon- but eventually she faded away like cobwebs in wind. The vampire and the witch were shedding the layers of what they should be and found a new them, he was sprinkled on Bonnie's canvas and she was splattered on his.
Yes, he rubbed off on Judgey due to being in the prison world for so long and he'd be a liar to say the fact didn't make his chest puff up with pride.
She came downstairs wearing next to nothing: a thin black top with ultra thin straps and short black, equally thin boy shorts. Her hair was loose and long, his eyes were everywhere skin was exposed and when she sat next to him, her scent wafted right up to his nose without his permission. Just like an olfactory hallucination.
How rude for it to be so mouthwatering.
So juicy.
So smoky.
So Bonnie.
"What?" She asked in no other way besides mockingly, as if she had no clue of how gorgeous she looked, how very naked and absolutely ripe she was like postpartum women- the full lips and breasts, glowingly soft skin, remarkably happy disposition, lush. She was undefinably gorgeous- possessed- the way that women who have just given birth seem otherworldly because they carry another dimension inside of themselves where babies sleep, eat and rest.
Bonnie had to be teasing him because he knew she no longer wondered if she was seen anymore.
Something about the beauty, the radiance, the teasing, the raw sex appeal, the white light seeping from her made him want to exploit that- the predatory nature inside of him was rattling in its cage, waiting to be unleashed. Oh, the many ways he could make her beg and bleed. The ways he could dull that light, make it only shine for him.
Damon needed to snap out of if.
His fangs threatened to lengthen, (alongside other things.) When he cleared his throat, he hoped his mind would clear in the process.
It didn't.
"You okay?" She asked and grabbed his thigh and he all but melted.
Damon practically tripped up the stairs just to get away because the room was getting too small and a part of him was starting to stretch and Bonnie Bennett wasn't allowed to go to Wonderland.
He felt funny.
He needed an ice cold shower.
Damned if the hallway to his room didn't feel extended, now was not the time for the corridor to transform into a funhouse.
Relief flooded him after walking for what felt like miles when he reached his bathroom. He could plunge his thoughts, purify them actually and let his sins be washed away with teeth-chattering, freezing water. All would be well.
However, Damon's bathroom was leaking with the smell of his best friend; he couldn't stop his fangs from slipping out if he wanted to. Jesus, what did she do? Rub herself up against every visible surface?
Quickly, he stripped out of his clothes, attempting to ignore his very hard erection, reaching an all-time-high of self hatred. He was embarrassingly hard and he knew why but what he didn't know was why his body insisted on punishing him now of all times. Bad Damon, bad Damon, bad Damon.
Drown him in holy water.
Bonnie's aroma was causing his rationale to slip away, bubbling up to pop like the suds on a waning bar of soap. Was he losing himself? His skin felt around him and not on him, smothering him as if he was being hugged by a snake. Why was he so tired?
Under the water, it was a different situation.
Not teeth-chattering, not freezing, not paralyzingly cold like he planned, but a warm suffocating heat the same temperature as the desire coiling inside of him. Steaming his pores from the inside out, foggy and forbidden.
There he was naked, exposed, showering in Bonnie's soft, warm, wet skin. And he was eager to do so because it felt like she was there, watching, wrapped into him, approving. All he wanted to do was envelope her in a hug. That's all. Just a kiss. Bury his face in her cleavage, lick up her neck. Play hide and seek between her legs. Entertain her like a good friend would. Enter her like a boyfriend should.
All he wanted to do was be baptized in Bonnie Bennett.
Nothing else.
There was brown all around him and tonka bean. Emerald green. He was biting Bonnie for the first time again and he could taste the fear mixed in with magic and arousal and everything else she didn't know he knew. They hated each other then but maybe it set the grounds for something erotic, maybe they were both acting out because the imaginary script said they'd never have each other. What cruel god would damn them like that?
His eyes were on Elena and her eyes were on everyone, he wondered if he and the little witch fucked instead of fought, would the tension he was experiencing now be any less? Would his dick stop bobbing so painfully for attention?
What if that night at the dance he took her home with him? What if after that he put her to sleep?
What if the many times he implicitly said she wasn't enough, he was saying he needed more from her. A confession. He was obsessed that Bonnie Bennett was the one thing he'd never have. Bonnie Bennett was the one thing in his life that called for self-restraint.
The prison world was the greatest test, how hard it was for him to pretend like he could exist without sex for so long. Ignoring his vampire instincts to bite into mystical flesh and have him a witch for dinner. Bonnie beside him, constantly wanting but never asking; him, beside her, wondering what color her panties were.
They were so good at not addressing it, that loud, gray elephant in the room. Their attraction. That dark, dark desire that jabbed at them in the innocent moments. The one that poked at them when they got too close. Bonnie would excuse herself. Then he'd pretend like he wasn't listening to her get off, stripping that layer of music away she'd always play so he couldn't hear her breath hitch when she added a second finger. He knew what it smelt like, sounded like, that vulgar sound of just how wet she was. Damon would nearly salivate when her climax hit her, the muffled sound in the middle of the night, so perfect and pure. A gasp with two syllables, like his name. Stressed, unstressed.
Da-mon.
He'd be waiting on the other side of the door, ear up against the wood as his eyelids got heavy and his pants bunched. The big, bad wolf that would eat her alive. Give her everything she didn't know she needed. Make her scream for her life. No one would ever know, Elena would forgive him. Sometimes he'd fantasize.
In the end, he'd always be the monster because he couldn't just take Bonnie like he did with everything else. Everyone else. Bonnie was sacred and caring and perfect, an angel, and he was everything she was not. He didn't deserve Bonnie- he hadn't met someone who did and after everything was said and done she was still his best friend. Platonically. He was so very twisted for seeing her in any other light- but.
He always walked a thin line.
It was only in his nature to take a mile out of an inch. And he had so many inches to take.
There was no harm to do this: to muse, to think, to dream as long as he locked it back down with an anvil to sink in the deepest part of his cerebrum. No one would know, and even he too would forget all about it sometimes, as long as Bonnie was far, far away. Guilt wasn't a good look on him but it didn't seem to wash down the drain like everything else he thought would.
He'd been in the shower for an obnoxiously long time by now, he could see it in the way his fingertips were shriveled.
But he did have to handle it though, the looming erection.
He gave a hard stroke to his shaft because he needed to get this out before he sat next to her downstairs, snapping back into his old role like the many years hadn't passed and she was eighteen again, twenty, twenty-two. Go back to the Damon without the fangs, scary thoughts and desperate fantasies. Revert back to domesticated Damon without the boner that threatened Bonnie's very existence.
He needed to relieve himself before she came in there saying, let me do it, pretty hands tugging at his dick, sliding down to grab his scrotum, like this? His stomach fluttered, it was so wrong but he couldn't help himself. He had to rid himself of the thoughts that could never be exposed before someone found out how vivid his mind was, how long he was thinking of the witch in this way, how often he thought of his best friend beneath him, beautiful and bare and blind with lust.
Do you like that? She'd ask with her breast pressed against him, nipples puckering, grabbing his face to make eye contact as she gave his dick a forceful pull he'd shut his eyes in disbelief, not being able to take it- it'd all be way too much. Damon, look at me, She'd say then kiss him tactlessly and he'd moan into her mouth for redemption because he was a terrible person to think about his best friend this way.
He had to spill before she got on her knees and traced the wet tip of his dick with her lips and he lost his breath, tingling and shaking and focusing on not fainting. God, was there any blood left in his brain? I'm the one that made you a mess, Damon. Staring up at him with fierce green eyes. He'd guide her head down to swallow the whole thing and she'd do it. That wonderful feeling of her throat constricting before he slid out of her mouth to look at that stunning face. Doesn't it hurt to want me so bad?
Wrong in more ways than one, he couldn't believe his mind was painting this picture so explicitly. He needed to stop it because the guilt was threatening to impale him.
He just had to cum before she interrupted his shower to take him inside of her and let him fuck her into the tile until he made her walls as sticky as melted ice cream. Until her wetness was draining down her leg. Oh, God, Damon. Is it what you always dreamed of?
"And so much more," he would barrel into her so no one else could. Plow so deep, she'd never forget. The shower head shook.
There was a special place in hell for him, he was so very sick for this.
What did anyone ever expect from him? He barely took well to rules, boundaries was never his thing. Not with Katherine, not with Elena, not with his own brother. Whose idea was it to place Bonnie in his life like this- the fragile piece of glass in a war zone, with the label "NO TOUCHING" as if capital letters could protect it. That sign wouldn't stop him because no sign ever did. Was he supposed to take accountability for his lack of responsibility? Was that the life lesson Bonnie was supposed to teach him? If so he was failing, and the deeper he descended into this figment of his best friend, the less he believed he ever had a fighting chance to keep Bonnie off-limits. Fate was a funny thing.
He could protect her as long as she never let go, kept her legs around his waist or over his shoulders, let him save her with every thrust. She would never need anything ever again.
The Bonnie of his dreams smiled and caressed his face as he shoveled into her. Her eyes were low and glossy and she whispered to give her more so he did. She said he had to do this and he believed her. She said she could just eat him up and he wanted her to so very bad. He loved her nice and needy, if she ever got hungry, he'd be on her dinner plate. Promise?
He'd swear it.
He'd happily die with this desire in hand because maybe he was meant to suffer like this. Murdered by wanting what he'd never have in a million years since he took everything excessively. Perhaps he deserved to be eaten alive spirit first by the bottomless pit of his yearning for Bonnie. The universe was just finding its equilibrium.
"Damon?"
Why wasn't she asleep?
Why didn't she just stay downstairs and watch the movie without him?
What the fuck was she doing up here? He was about to cum so hard that his skin was making that clapping noise and here she was calling his name.
"Damon? You okay?"
This was torture. He didn't know what he'd done in the past to deserve this but he knew she knew exactly what was happening; every clue that could've been given was there.
"Yeah," he got breathless on the end but he gave a commendable effort.
His imaginary Bonnie was still there, observing him, stroking his dick from behind with one hand and covering his mouth with the other. She was standing on her tiptoes to rest her chin on his shoulder. Don't cum. A whisper into his ear. He gulped.
He couldn't tell if the real Bonnie was gone or not, it was too difficult to focus his senses. He was abso-fucking-lutely delusional. This had to be the universe punishing him for suppressing emotions for so long.
Tell me how bad you want it.
She started pumping faster, a little sloppier. His eyes were going to cross. Her other hand came down to press on his perineum, he was going to see fucking stars. His chest heaved with each breath he took.
"Fuck, Bonnie. I want it so bad, I could cry," he whispered hoarsely, his body leaning back into her for support because the feeling in his legs was starting to fade. His mind already conjured him here so he was going to run with it.
That bad, huh?
He grunted.
Start crying. She said.
He did.
And then he painted the walls.
~
His body was healing as if daydreaming about Bonnie almost killed him, his towel lazily hung around his waist, his breaths were shallow pants. Red splotches on his cheeks. He had never came so hard in his life.
And his pupils were blown, making him look dazed and young and human again. Should he just throw something on and pretend like he didn't momentarily go blind and deaf with such a strong climax? Could he walk? Better yet, could he be normal with the object of his deepest darkest desires in such close proximity?
Shame was an emotion he wasn't all too familiar with, but there it was, sitting on his shoulders.
How dare he let his mind simulate Bonnie with legs spread wide and mouth agape? So open and ready just for him, helping him fill her up.
"Damon?" It was the first time since she returned that she reminded him of the girl he knew. Her voice was apprehensive on the other side of the door, a mix of worry and something else he couldn't place.
He opened the door hesitantly, honestly afraid of himself.
Bonnie was standing up, looking winded but noticeably not tired.
"Um, you were in there for like an hour-"
She was talking like she had to catch her breath.
"I don't know, I thought something might've happened, so I got a little worried and ran up the stairs,"
"I'm fine, Bon." He said as cool as a cucumber. "Don't I look fine?"
Her eyes clung to every inch of his face then dropped down to his towel swiftly as if he wouldn't notice. When her eyes popped back up, the pitter-patter of her heart was at a maddening pace.
"Yeah."
"Okay then."
Tone it down, he thought to himself. When he met himself in the mirror; the hunger hadn't quite left his eyes. He looked exactly like he just had a mind blowing orgasm. Meanwhile, Bonnie was standing in the doorway of his bathroom with darting eyes and fidgeting fingers.
She inhaled then let out a weighted sigh. "There's something I need to tell you."
When their eyes locked, it was then that he noticed she looked beautifully and thoroughly fucked.
"But you have to wake up first."
an: hello all, i hope you enjoyed chapter two!!! it was done for a while but i have been editing and re-editing right until the very last second i published. some thorough revising always brings a good finishing touch. anyways if you enjoyed, leave a review and if you can, it'd be so helpful to buy me a ko-fi ! thank you for the reviews so far, love that many of you are enjoying already. strap in your seatbelts because this will be one craaazyyyy ride.
