How Bonnie Does Sexual Frustration-NC-17
Author: angryzen
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Pairing: Bamon
Summary: One does not go in for a kiss when the object of one's affection gave herself a nightmare because she was so determined not to give one an inch.
A/N: This prompt wasn't intended as one, but one of the people I follow on Tumblr used it as a tag on a Idris Elba photo (I think). I loved it so much that I had to use it in a fic! She's a Bamon fan, so I wrote this for her.
Kink: Blood drinking
Prompt: "Right to the clit, I swear.”
***
Preview
The basement of the witch house was cold, colder than usual. She couldn’t remember what season it was. What month was it? She could feel the sleeve of her jacket on the back of her hand, but the cold slipped through so that it felt like she was only wearing a blouse. The basement was dark; the candles were out. The moon illuminated the room, except she knew the moon couldn’t be high enough yet to penetrate the basement windows. Someone she couldn’t see blew their icy breath at the nape of her neck, and she turned around. The room got colder, her lips chapped, and her nose threatened to run. Her face felt frozen, and she could now see her breath. Something was wrong: she wasn’t supposed to be alone.
LJ is saying the post is too large. Rather than splitting it, I'm linking to the rest here and here.
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Pairing: Bamon
Summary: One does not go in for a kiss when the object of one's affection gave herself a nightmare because she was so determined not to give one an inch.
A/N: This prompt wasn't intended as one, but one of the people I follow on Tumblr used it as a tag on a Idris Elba photo (I think). I loved it so much that I had to use it in a fic! She's a Bamon fan, so I wrote this for her.
Kink: Blood drinking
Prompt: "Right to the clit, I swear.”
***
Preview
The basement of the witch house was cold, colder than usual. She couldn’t remember what season it was. What month was it? She could feel the sleeve of her jacket on the back of her hand, but the cold slipped through so that it felt like she was only wearing a blouse. The basement was dark; the candles were out. The moon illuminated the room, except she knew the moon couldn’t be high enough yet to penetrate the basement windows. Someone she couldn’t see blew their icy breath at the nape of her neck, and she turned around. The room got colder, her lips chapped, and her nose threatened to run. Her face felt frozen, and she could now see her breath. Something was wrong: she wasn’t supposed to be alone.
LJ is saying the post is too large. Rather than splitting it, I'm linking to the rest here and here.