Uninvited - TVD - Stefan/Damon, Stefan/Damon/Bonnie
Title: Uninvited
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Pairing: Stefan/Damon, Stefan/Damon/Bonnie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~4600
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money off this, so please don't sue me.
Summary: Bonnie needed this to stop. She couldn’t be constantly having visions of Stefan and Damon having sex every time she shut her eyes. It was going to drive her crazy. Takes place after 1.09.
Warnings: Incest, threesome, bloodplay, magic as a plot device.
Notes: This fic did not want to get posted. I went through four betas trying to get this edited but whenever I sent it to a beta, SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAPPENED TO THEM, rendering them unable to finish the job. I started thinking it was cursed (Bonnie clearly did not want this fic to see the light of day). It took me almost three months to get this finally, fully beta’d. So, much thanks to meiou_set, who took this fic when it was just a 2k first draft and told me everything wrong with it and made me fix it up into something more workable. And thank you so very much to waterofthemoon, who came through and CONQUERED the final version of this fic, despite the curse that had struck down all my other betas. Y’all rock. <3
Damon nearly drained her dry, and then Stefan replaced her blood with his own. Bonnie just carried on, like nothing had happened. Like things would stay the same. Like there wouldn’t be consequences.
Yeah, right.
Something had happened. Bonnie wasn’t sure what and had no clue how to stop it.
She thought it was a dream at first. Dreams are weird, random, and confusing. Anything can happen in them, right?
One night, Bonnie went to sleep, and then she wasn’t Bonnie anymore. She was in someone else’s skin, looking out through unfamiliar eyes at Damon’s face. Damon, who had her slammed against the wall and was kissing her roughly, biting at her lips, her jaw, her neck. The part of her brain that would register fear was preoccupied by the crazy, wild surge of lust that overtook her. She wanted to rip into Damon and tear him to pieces and make him scream her name while he came.
It wasn’t until Damon moaned, “Stefan,” that Bonnie woke up. She was in her room, in her house, in her own bed. She wasn’t slammed up against a wall, and she definitely was not with Damon Salvatore.
Except she was. Or she had been. Or she’d been someone who was with Damon for a few minutes, and Bonnie really didn’t want to think about exactly which someone. She wanted to go back to sleep and pretend away what she’d seen. It was just a dream.
No, it wasn’t.
It took place in her mind, but it was real, felt so real. Bonnie didn’t have a clue what was going on, but she avoided Stefan afterwards. When Elena asked why, Bonnie gave a half-true explanation about not feeling comfortable with them, with both Stefan and Damon, after what happened in the woods. Elena nodded, always the ever-understanding friend, in the dark to what was really going on.
Bonnie wanted to go to Grams about this, but she wasn’t about to tell Grams she was dreaming about the Salvatore brothers.
It happened again after that, but this time, it was in class. Daydreaming in history gave way to a vivid fantasy (except it wasn’t a fantasy, it was real, it happened) of Damon fucking her against the wall, her legs wrapped tightly around him as she moaned, and Damon kissing her with fangs, cutting her tongue open and sucking on it. Bonnie broke away from the kiss with a snarl, and when Damon bared his throat, Bonnie tore into it with her fangs, savoring the salty-hot taste that exploded in her mouth and-
Before she could go any further (before her breathing got out of control and the pit of want coiled in Stefan’s gut exploded and washed over her), Mr. Saltzman called on her, jolting Bonnie out of her vision. Bonnie endured a humiliating moment of not knowing what the hell anyone was talking about. Like it mattered; she had far bigger worries.
Stefan was watching her. She could feel his eyes boring into her back. He didn’t say anything, but he had his gaze on her the entire time. When the bell rang, Bonnie rushed out of there, ignoring Elena’s concerned calls.
She didn’t know how to stop these dreams, memories, whatever; she just kept being drawn into the Salvatores’ web of sex and blood, like an intruder, uninvited and unbidden, a voyeur. She felt like she might go out of her mind. She didn’t know who she was anymore. Was she Bonnie, the normal teenage girl who got good grades and hung out at The Mystic Grill? Was she Bonnie, the witch, with powers she couldn’t even comprehend yet? Or did she at some point become Stefan, the vampire?
It got a little difficult to separate herself from Stefan during those moments. She was inextricable from Stefan, just as Stefan was inextricable from Damon; they were blood, and that went so much deeper for vampires, where blood was everything, and even deeper for the Salvatores. Damon lived under Stefan’s skin, lived deep inside his mind and gut and bones, already wrapped around him before they even started fucking, no matter how much Stefan tried to push him away. Damon was the only constant in Stefan’s life, for better or worse, and he (she) was linked to him forever.
Bonnie knew all that now. She knew exactly how Damon tasted, the way he sounded when he came, the smug grin that spread out over his face when Stefan (she) came, screaming and shuddering beneath him. She knew exactly how Damon fucked, and worse yet, she knew exactly how Stefan fucked, too, and how lust felt different, so different to a vampire. Sex and blood got mixed in together, almost impossible to separate from each other. Desire and lust were alive, real pulsing creatures under his (her) skin, not just the teenage crush and curiosity Bonnie usually felt. Everything was heightened, and elevated to a primal, terrifying level.
Bonnie was no virgin. She’d had sex before, and it’d always been somewhere between mundane and pretty good, but it had never felt this intense, consuming her entire being, like she would die if she didn’t come. She’d never felt like she’d wanted to tear her partner to pieces and draw blood and just take him. Never felt like a predator.
Bonnie would wake up, her hips rolling as she was hit by Stefan’s orgasm, moaning loud enough that she was sure her family heard, still hungry. He (she) was so hungry and it was so difficult to hold back. She didn’t know how he did it, thirst and hunger always deep in his mind, beating steadily, waiting for the right moment, and Bonnie (or was it Stefan?) knew that someday, her (no, his, not her) control would snap. And Damon was always there, taunting him, drawing it out of him, waiting for his brother to lose it with a smile on his face.
His brother…
It should make Bonnie feel sick, and a part of her did, her gut twisting, disturbed and scared, a feeling of wrongness overcoming her at the thought. She didn’t want to know that. She wished she’d never found out. Maybe Bonnie could handle knowing that Damon was into this; after all, when you kill people for fun, what’s a little incest?
Stefan, though-she saw Stefan at school every day. He’d saved her life. He was supposed to be the good guy. He was supposed to be the one she could trust, the one she could trust around Elena, especially-approachable and safe, and all the while, he’d been fucking his brother.
It tainted him a bit, made him shadier, like someone Bonnie should stay away from, because who knew what else he was hiding? Any thought of Stefan would always come with that baggage, baggage she knew intimately now, inside and out. She had only been in his head for glimpses, but it was enough to see; Damon brought out the worst in Stefan, his worst nature, his darkest impulses and desires, and Bonnie was there to feel it all.
And then a hidden, secret part of her got wet at the very thought, her fingers sliding in and out of her, thumbing her clit. She bit her lip as she came shaking, in spite of the shame, thinking of the scenes she’d just witnessed firsthand between the two brothers. She wanted this to be Stefan’s influence-his thoughts and feelings were rolling around in her brain and it was so easy for Bonnie to mix them up with her own-but she had a feeling that it was all her.
****
It happened again in class, but this time it was worse because no one noticed her, no one called on her. Bonnie lived a moment of fucking Damon Salvatore, him tight and warm around her, and she didn’t know what was sweeter, the way he moaned under her for more, harder, his cries like a vicious victory or his blood, so good, not as good as human blood but the next best thing, and orgasm ripped through her violently, and-
She was thrown out of the memory. She had a white-knuckled grip on the desk. She wasn’t sure if she made any noise, but she was panting, breathing heavily, her body on the edge and shivering, wet between her thighs. She wasn’t sure if she’d an orgasm or not, but she might as well have. Some of the kids around her were staring; Elena was giving her a what the fuck look, but Bonnie ignored it.
Stefan was staring at her; he didn’t look as bad as her, but he was tense, his body rigid and coiling, like a predator about to spring, and on what, Bonnie wasn’t sure.
He could smell her, Bonnie realized. No, she already knew that, the knowledge deep in her veins. Of course he could smell her; she could practically feel the way his nostrils twitched at the scent of arousal she gave off, arousal and blood. Bonnie knew he could tell the exact moment she got wet, could feel the moment his own lust jumped within him like it was hers, too.
“You smell like Damon,” Stefan said to her after class, and his voice wasn’t even angry or harsh. It was empty, resigned.
And I can feel you, Bonnie thought. But what she said was, “I haven’t been anywhere near him.”
“I know,” he said. Bonnie didn’t like the way he said it. Like he did know, knew way too much, more than she did, and knew how things would end and what they would come to.
Bonnie thought of telling Stefan that she knew about him and his brother. Maybe it would unsettle Stefan a bit, and god, that would make up for how she’d been feeling the last week.
But Stefan looked at her, really looked, gaze piercing and intense, slipping underneath her skin. Bonnie shuddered and realized he already knew.
Maybe he’d been in her head, too.
“Does Elena know?” Bonnie asked instead.
He didn’t move, but something shifted in his eyes, something impenetrable. Bonnie knew the moment when he caught on to what she was saying, when something like shame and desire all mixed in together moved behind his eyes.
“Of course she doesn’t,” Bonnie answered for him. Elena would be horrified. Hell, she’s a little horrified.
She didn’t know why she wasn’t more horrified. Or rather, she didn’t want to think about it, and any thought that lingered too long on it gave her a rolling feeling in her gut.
Maybe it was knowledge gained from everything she’d seen, knowledge she couldn’t take back. It colored everything about Stefan and Damon now. She knew what it was they did when no one looked, the shame Stefan used to cover it up, what he felt when he came, what set him over the edge, all those twisted thoughts rushing through his head. Bonnie knew what blood tasted like, not just the physical taste of it, but exactly how and why it would drive a vampire crazy, the feel of it running down her throat, of flesh caught in her fangs.
Stefan’s fangs. Not hers.
Bonnie took off, not quite running away, but definitely doing something that approximated fleeing. She didn’t want to bear Stefan’s gaze any longer, didn’t want to be near him, didn’t want to think about this.
Stefan didn’t follow her.
****
The next day was quiet. Stefan wasn’t in class. Bonnie thought that maybe she should be worried, but she’d been worried enough the past few days; she’d welcome any sense of relief, even if doubt lingered in the back of her mind.
She was walking to her car when she caught a glimpse of Damon across the courtyard. Just a slight glimpse, Damon inclining his head to her before Bonnie blinked and he was gone. Bonnie thought she might have been slipping back into Stefan’s brain for a moment, even while she was wide awake.
“Hi, Bonnie,” Damon said the moment she turned around, materializing before her with nothing but a damnable grin on his face, blocking the path to her car.
She didn’t exactly jump, but her heart started to race, and from the way Damon’s grin grew wider, he’d heard it, too.
She wanted to punch him. She settled for glaring at him.
“You know, you really shouldn’t sneak up on a witch who could set you on fire,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible, sneaking in the hint of warning in her words.
“Oh, you won’t set me on fire.” Damon chuckled, so sure and arrogant.
“Don’t be so sure. You did try to kill me. Why shouldn’t I set you on fire?” she hissed, shoving Damon out of the way. Damon surprisingly didn’t protest and stepped aside. Bonnie didn’t even stop to wonder why; just wanted to get the fuck away from him.
“Well,” he said, the arrogance in his voice just getting stronger, thick enough to touch, “I just thought you might like to learn how to get rid of those pesky visions you’ve been having. Can’t do that if I’m crispy.”
Bonnie went still. Her hand was on the car door, and she was this close to getting away from him, but fuck, how could she go now?
“You know?”she ventured carefully, trying to stay as calm as possible.
“Stefan talks,” Damon explained. “He expressed his concern about you and would like to rectify the situation.”
Damon didn’t seem at all concerned. More like amused disdain.
“So you know how to…how to stop them.”
And then Damon leaned in, closed in until he was right in her personal space, until their faces were inches apart and Bonnie could feel him breathe on her. Bonnie’s first instinct was to immediately back the hell away, but she was not going to show fear here, not for Damon.
“Oh, don’t be coy, Bonnie. You’ve seen far too much for that.” Damon’s voice had dipped low, and it was-it was so similar to what she’d heard when she’d flashed into Stefan’s head, seductive and honey-sweet. For a moment, she thought she was back in another vision-the sudden spark of lust in her belly disorienting and confusing, her and Stefan’s emotions melding together so she couldn’t tell if this was hers or simply the memory of him, imprinted on her-but no, this was here, now, real.
“Damon,” she warned.
Damon closed his eyes, inhaling. “You do smell different.”
“Damon,” Bonnie said, louder. The air shifted, and crackled around her, and Damon was shoved back against the car with a startled expression on his face, but it quickly melted into something like curiosity, head cocked to the side like a wolf. Bonnie didn’t even know what she had done; it was pure instinct.
Bonnie focused on just breathing for a minute, reining in whatever caused the display of power. She glanced around; everyone was walking around, nobody paying attention to her and the annoyingly persistent psycho vampire in front of her.
“So can you help me or not?” she finally asked.
Damon nodded. “I can. Not that I mind an audience. Stefan does. He’s…prudish that way,” Damon shook his head, like he couldn’t comprehend why that would bother Stefan.
Bonnie did not like the smile on his face. And she really did not want to be in debt to Damon Salvatore.
“How?” she asked.
Damon shrugged. “I’ve been around a while. You’re not the first witch I’ve met.”
“This has happened before?”
Damon was talking completely seriously, but there was a light dancing behind his eyes. He knew something Bonnie didn’t, and it was setting her on edge, preparing her for whatever nasty surprise Damon had in store.
“Yep. Not with me or Stefan-we’ve never been the focus of a link-but I’ve seen it happen before.”
A link, huh? “How do you close it?” Bonnie asked, expecting Damon to rattle off something involving a ritual or something like that, or maybe she’d have to break into Gram’s spellbook.
Damon leaned over, giving her an once-over, his eyes raking across her body with a predatory gleam. His intent was unmistakable. He smiled at her, cool and confident and knife-like. The look in his eyes would have been lewd on anyone else, but not for Damon; lewd was for stupid teenage boys who didn’t know any better. Damon was old, and he’d done this a thousand times. Bonnie had been in Stefan’s head, and she knew how alluring Damon could be, how alluring he was, damn near impossible to resist for long.
“For that, Bonnie, you’ll have to come over with us.” His smile quirked up at the corners of his lips, turning into a smirk, inviting and self-satisfied all at once.
“You are so full of shit,” she hissed, getting into the car.
Damon grabbed the car door, holding it still. “C’mon, Bonnie. You’re the witch. You should know this by now.”
“That you’re a psychotic bastard?”
“How magic works,” Damon didn’t respond to the insult. “Blood and sex are very powerful tools in magic. We opened a link with blood. You close it with sex. You end it with sex. The link is open. You finish it, you close the link, and it all stops.”
Open a link with blood, is that what he calls nearly draining me dry?
“It sounds like bullshit,” she retorted, even if the words made a twisted sort of sense.
“Fine.” Damon shrugged. “It’s your head, your visions.”
He turned around to leave, moving slowly and deliberately, like he knew Bonnie was going to go after him.
“Wait,” she said, hating herself for it.
Damon turned on a dime, grinning. “Yeeees?”
“There’s no other way?”
“You could close it with blood, too, I suppose,” Damon said, “but that would probably involve someone’s death. You’re not prepared to go that far, are you?”
“No,” Bonnie sneered. “I’m not you.”
Damon chuckled, genuinely amused. “Is that a yes?”
“Just remember, I can kill you with a thought now.” Bonnie wasn’t sure if she could or not, but it was good to maintain a sense of confidence in front of Damon. Didn’t want him getting too cocky.
“Don’t worry, Bonnie. Stefan will play chaperone. You have nothing to fear from me. For the moment, anyway.”
“You’re very reassuring.” Bonnie said, glaring. “And if anyone finds out-” If Elena or god forbid, Grams found out-
“It’ll be-” Damon moved his finger to his lips, “-our little secret.”
Bonnie thought he would leave then, but he stayed, lingering near her as Bonnie got in the driver’s seat, determined to ignore him. Damon knocked on the window. Bonnie briefly thought of taking off anyway, leaving him in the dust. But she did the mature thing and rolled the window down, fixing him with an angry stare.
“What?”
Before she could see, Damon had closed the distance between then, his voice next to her ear, his hand gently stroking her hair; it was as if he was playing the act of a close lover, but that’s all it was, just a act.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want to, Bonnie. Don’t act like this is such a burden to do.” He was staring at her knowingly, eyes gleaming darkly, a sharp, seductive edge to his voice. “I can smell your lust all over you, and not all of it is Stefan’s influence.”
Bonnie shivered. “I’m going home now.”
Damon bared his teeth in a smile. “Stefan and I will be at home tonight. You’re free to come in any time.”
****
Stefan answered the door when Bonnie arrived. He blinked at her, shocked. “Bonnie,” he stated tonelessly. “What are you doing here?”
Somewhere behind him, Damon’s voice rang out cheerfully. “Hi, Bonnie! Glad you could make it.”
Bonnie felt the exact moment when anger hit Stefan like a physical force. He had a split-second moment of confusion, and then he bolted away, gone in a second, not even stopping to shut the door. Bonnie couldn’t see what was going on, Stefan and Damon arguing in the living room, away from her, but she could hear it; Stefan whispering furious words to Damon, Damon flinging around taunts like weapons, each carefully designed to pick and pick at Stefan’s armor until he snapped.
The brothers were fighting. Bonnie’s seen this before, lived this, and she knew whenever they got like this, crossing the line from fighting to fucking wouldn’t be hard. But Stefan’s rage was choking her, almost as powerful as his lust, constantly repressed and spilling out into her. She was angry at Damon, wanted to hurt him, too-barely contained violence that wasn’t hers bubbling up inside her, fucking terrifying. It was a fight to just get herself to the living room, dragging her body over the force of Stefan’s turbulent emotions swirling around her mind.
This was starting to get really out of control. It wasn’t just lust and desire she was feeling; it was everything that went through Stefan’s head. She didn’t know if it was a proximity thing, if maybe she got away from Stefan, things would be easier. She didn’t know if this would be a permanent change, but she did know she needed this to end now.
In the Salvatores’ living room, Bonnie met the sight of Stefan, fangs out and snarling at Damon, holding him by the lapels of his shirt. Damon was grinning anyway, the ace up his sleeve making him so fucking confident and she just want to wipe the smirk of his face and make him-
“Stop it,” she demanded, breathless with the strain of it all. “Just stop it, stop it, Stefan, I can’t-”
Bonnie was looking up at him. She hadn’t noticed she had collapsed to the floor.
“Bonnie,” Stefan said, and suddenly he was down by her side, gently brushing the hair out of her eyes. She could feel his concern, his guilt, and god, his guilt. Stefan carried so much guilt around with him, so much remorse, that Bonnie could drown in it. She would drown in it if she didn’t put an end to this. It was a wonder he could even stay sane.
Bonnie looked him in the eyes, wide and sincere. When she reached out and touched the side of his face, they both shuddered, the contact electric.
“I just need this to stop,” she stressed. “I need this.”
Stefan gazed into her eyes, forehead creased in concern. She could feel it, radiating from him into her, his fear and guilt and reluctance.
Stefan nodded.
“See what I mean, brother?” Damon said, running his hand slowly through Stefan’s hair. Both Bonnie and Stefan slid their eyes shut at that, breathing out a soft sigh, the feeling comforting even when it shouldn’t be. “You think we could oblige a lady?”
****
It ended with her on Stefan’s lap, her back pressed against his naked chest and his arms wrapped around her tightly-almost protectively-as his cock thrust into her deep. He slid up against her slick heat and Bonnie clenched around him, moaning in tandem with Stefan’s groans.
Damon was in front of them, grinning like he planned the entire thing, licking and nipping at her throat, mouthing at her nipples. His fingers moved in between Bonnie’s thighs, alternating between stroking her clit and sliding his fingers in with his brother’s cock. That almost felt like too much to handle, but god, she didn’t want them to stop.
This wasn’t like any sex she’d ever had; this crawled inside her skin and pulsed deep and heavy, rearranging her insides. Bonnie was electrified, sparks shooting up her spine, like the longing was something hot and alive and real, with a mind of its own, and it wanted to consume her (her, Stefan, Damon, all of them).
The pressure was building within her as Stefan thrust into Bonnie’s willing body, and it didn’t matter that Bonnie couldn’t see his face. She knew what this was like for him-fighting so hard not to take a taste, just a little taste, a little taste wouldn’t hurt, and Bonnie felt his hunger like a wild animal trapped beneath her skin, begging for release.
Damon’s fangs came out as he kissed the inside of her thigh and instead of the fear or worry that Bonnie should be feeling, instead of her mind screaming danger at her, she laughed, spreading her legs wider, gasping as Stefan went in harder, a sharp frantic edge to his actions.
Their emotions bounced off her and merged into her until Bonnie wasn’t sure where she ended and they began.
Stefan came inside her with a guttural groan; Bonnie felt something unfurl and snap within her, felt the air hiss with power around her, her power, but mostly, she felt Stefan’s orgasm. Bonnie nearly screamed with the violent wave of pleasure that crashed into her and set her on fire, arching into them both and she wasn’t sure if would ever end.
She grabbed Damon by the hair and pulled him closer and her mind flashed to Stefan’s hand. Maybe it was Stefan’s hand grabbing him by the hair, maybe Stefan’s hand guided the action. Maybe they were both doing it, with Bonnie growling as she pulled him closer. Maybe it didn’t even matter anymore.
She kissed him, mouths meeting and tongue tangling and Damon tasted so familiar. She remembered doing this before-except it was Stefan’s mouth instead of hers-and when she bit down on Damon’s lip hard enough to draw blood, Stefan moaned with her.
****
Stefan escorted her out. Bonnie couldn’t read him anymore and she had no clue what he was thinking. But Stefan paused before Bonnie drove away and she’d been in his head long enough to know what he was thinking.
“I’m not going to tell Elena,” she said.
Stefan’s expression was somber. “It’s up to you,” he said. “You decide what to do about it.”
Bonnie should tell Elena. She knew she should: I fucked the guy you like, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, but I had to make the visions stop, and this was the only way how. Oh, and your boyfriend is fucking his brother. Just thought you should know that last bit.
Elena really should know that last bit.
“I won’t tell Elena,” Bonnie agreed, and she drove off before Stefan said much else. She wouldn’t, for now. If something happened, if Elena was in trouble, well, then Bonnie was going to spill, even if it cost them their friendship.
They didn’t talk about it later. Bonnie steered clear out of Damon’s way, and Damon hadn’t found a reason to bother her just yet. Stefan said nothing to her, even as he romanced Elena in front of her. Stefan said nothing, but there was a heavy weight in his eyes whenever he looked at her, guilt aging his young face.
She felt a little guilty, too. Bonnie knew a good friend would tell Elena what had happened. Elena deserved to know what had happened. But mostly, Bonnie felt relief.
Things went back to normal. Bonnie slept and daydreamed, and she didn’t invade Stefan’s mind. No more dropping in announced on the Salvatores having sex.
Except sometimes, while she was sleeping or about to sleep or simply not thinking too hard and leaving her mind open and free, Bonnie got a brief flash of Damon’s eyes on her, blood on her lips, primal hunger in her gut. Sometimes, it was a little more than a flash, another private scene she shouldn’t be witnessing.
Stefan still lingered in her mind, like an old ghost that just wouldn't leave. The link was still there. But this time, all she had to do was focus and she could block it out. This time, it was something Bonnie could touch and bury deep, something she could manipulate with the phantom tendrils of her mind. This was hers now. Her link, under her control. Her power.
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Pairing: Stefan/Damon, Stefan/Damon/Bonnie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~4600
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no money off this, so please don't sue me.
Summary: Bonnie needed this to stop. She couldn’t be constantly having visions of Stefan and Damon having sex every time she shut her eyes. It was going to drive her crazy. Takes place after 1.09.
Warnings: Incest, threesome, bloodplay, magic as a plot device.
Notes: This fic did not want to get posted. I went through four betas trying to get this edited but whenever I sent it to a beta, SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAPPENED TO THEM, rendering them unable to finish the job. I started thinking it was cursed (Bonnie clearly did not want this fic to see the light of day). It took me almost three months to get this finally, fully beta’d. So, much thanks to meiou_set, who took this fic when it was just a 2k first draft and told me everything wrong with it and made me fix it up into something more workable. And thank you so very much to waterofthemoon, who came through and CONQUERED the final version of this fic, despite the curse that had struck down all my other betas. Y’all rock. <3
Damon nearly drained her dry, and then Stefan replaced her blood with his own. Bonnie just carried on, like nothing had happened. Like things would stay the same. Like there wouldn’t be consequences.
Yeah, right.
Something had happened. Bonnie wasn’t sure what and had no clue how to stop it.
She thought it was a dream at first. Dreams are weird, random, and confusing. Anything can happen in them, right?
One night, Bonnie went to sleep, and then she wasn’t Bonnie anymore. She was in someone else’s skin, looking out through unfamiliar eyes at Damon’s face. Damon, who had her slammed against the wall and was kissing her roughly, biting at her lips, her jaw, her neck. The part of her brain that would register fear was preoccupied by the crazy, wild surge of lust that overtook her. She wanted to rip into Damon and tear him to pieces and make him scream her name while he came.
It wasn’t until Damon moaned, “Stefan,” that Bonnie woke up. She was in her room, in her house, in her own bed. She wasn’t slammed up against a wall, and she definitely was not with Damon Salvatore.
Except she was. Or she had been. Or she’d been someone who was with Damon for a few minutes, and Bonnie really didn’t want to think about exactly which someone. She wanted to go back to sleep and pretend away what she’d seen. It was just a dream.
No, it wasn’t.
It took place in her mind, but it was real, felt so real. Bonnie didn’t have a clue what was going on, but she avoided Stefan afterwards. When Elena asked why, Bonnie gave a half-true explanation about not feeling comfortable with them, with both Stefan and Damon, after what happened in the woods. Elena nodded, always the ever-understanding friend, in the dark to what was really going on.
Bonnie wanted to go to Grams about this, but she wasn’t about to tell Grams she was dreaming about the Salvatore brothers.
It happened again after that, but this time, it was in class. Daydreaming in history gave way to a vivid fantasy (except it wasn’t a fantasy, it was real, it happened) of Damon fucking her against the wall, her legs wrapped tightly around him as she moaned, and Damon kissing her with fangs, cutting her tongue open and sucking on it. Bonnie broke away from the kiss with a snarl, and when Damon bared his throat, Bonnie tore into it with her fangs, savoring the salty-hot taste that exploded in her mouth and-
Before she could go any further (before her breathing got out of control and the pit of want coiled in Stefan’s gut exploded and washed over her), Mr. Saltzman called on her, jolting Bonnie out of her vision. Bonnie endured a humiliating moment of not knowing what the hell anyone was talking about. Like it mattered; she had far bigger worries.
Stefan was watching her. She could feel his eyes boring into her back. He didn’t say anything, but he had his gaze on her the entire time. When the bell rang, Bonnie rushed out of there, ignoring Elena’s concerned calls.
She didn’t know how to stop these dreams, memories, whatever; she just kept being drawn into the Salvatores’ web of sex and blood, like an intruder, uninvited and unbidden, a voyeur. She felt like she might go out of her mind. She didn’t know who she was anymore. Was she Bonnie, the normal teenage girl who got good grades and hung out at The Mystic Grill? Was she Bonnie, the witch, with powers she couldn’t even comprehend yet? Or did she at some point become Stefan, the vampire?
It got a little difficult to separate herself from Stefan during those moments. She was inextricable from Stefan, just as Stefan was inextricable from Damon; they were blood, and that went so much deeper for vampires, where blood was everything, and even deeper for the Salvatores. Damon lived under Stefan’s skin, lived deep inside his mind and gut and bones, already wrapped around him before they even started fucking, no matter how much Stefan tried to push him away. Damon was the only constant in Stefan’s life, for better or worse, and he (she) was linked to him forever.
Bonnie knew all that now. She knew exactly how Damon tasted, the way he sounded when he came, the smug grin that spread out over his face when Stefan (she) came, screaming and shuddering beneath him. She knew exactly how Damon fucked, and worse yet, she knew exactly how Stefan fucked, too, and how lust felt different, so different to a vampire. Sex and blood got mixed in together, almost impossible to separate from each other. Desire and lust were alive, real pulsing creatures under his (her) skin, not just the teenage crush and curiosity Bonnie usually felt. Everything was heightened, and elevated to a primal, terrifying level.
Bonnie was no virgin. She’d had sex before, and it’d always been somewhere between mundane and pretty good, but it had never felt this intense, consuming her entire being, like she would die if she didn’t come. She’d never felt like she’d wanted to tear her partner to pieces and draw blood and just take him. Never felt like a predator.
Bonnie would wake up, her hips rolling as she was hit by Stefan’s orgasm, moaning loud enough that she was sure her family heard, still hungry. He (she) was so hungry and it was so difficult to hold back. She didn’t know how he did it, thirst and hunger always deep in his mind, beating steadily, waiting for the right moment, and Bonnie (or was it Stefan?) knew that someday, her (no, his, not her) control would snap. And Damon was always there, taunting him, drawing it out of him, waiting for his brother to lose it with a smile on his face.
His brother…
It should make Bonnie feel sick, and a part of her did, her gut twisting, disturbed and scared, a feeling of wrongness overcoming her at the thought. She didn’t want to know that. She wished she’d never found out. Maybe Bonnie could handle knowing that Damon was into this; after all, when you kill people for fun, what’s a little incest?
Stefan, though-she saw Stefan at school every day. He’d saved her life. He was supposed to be the good guy. He was supposed to be the one she could trust, the one she could trust around Elena, especially-approachable and safe, and all the while, he’d been fucking his brother.
It tainted him a bit, made him shadier, like someone Bonnie should stay away from, because who knew what else he was hiding? Any thought of Stefan would always come with that baggage, baggage she knew intimately now, inside and out. She had only been in his head for glimpses, but it was enough to see; Damon brought out the worst in Stefan, his worst nature, his darkest impulses and desires, and Bonnie was there to feel it all.
And then a hidden, secret part of her got wet at the very thought, her fingers sliding in and out of her, thumbing her clit. She bit her lip as she came shaking, in spite of the shame, thinking of the scenes she’d just witnessed firsthand between the two brothers. She wanted this to be Stefan’s influence-his thoughts and feelings were rolling around in her brain and it was so easy for Bonnie to mix them up with her own-but she had a feeling that it was all her.
****
It happened again in class, but this time it was worse because no one noticed her, no one called on her. Bonnie lived a moment of fucking Damon Salvatore, him tight and warm around her, and she didn’t know what was sweeter, the way he moaned under her for more, harder, his cries like a vicious victory or his blood, so good, not as good as human blood but the next best thing, and orgasm ripped through her violently, and-
She was thrown out of the memory. She had a white-knuckled grip on the desk. She wasn’t sure if she made any noise, but she was panting, breathing heavily, her body on the edge and shivering, wet between her thighs. She wasn’t sure if she’d an orgasm or not, but she might as well have. Some of the kids around her were staring; Elena was giving her a what the fuck look, but Bonnie ignored it.
Stefan was staring at her; he didn’t look as bad as her, but he was tense, his body rigid and coiling, like a predator about to spring, and on what, Bonnie wasn’t sure.
He could smell her, Bonnie realized. No, she already knew that, the knowledge deep in her veins. Of course he could smell her; she could practically feel the way his nostrils twitched at the scent of arousal she gave off, arousal and blood. Bonnie knew he could tell the exact moment she got wet, could feel the moment his own lust jumped within him like it was hers, too.
“You smell like Damon,” Stefan said to her after class, and his voice wasn’t even angry or harsh. It was empty, resigned.
And I can feel you, Bonnie thought. But what she said was, “I haven’t been anywhere near him.”
“I know,” he said. Bonnie didn’t like the way he said it. Like he did know, knew way too much, more than she did, and knew how things would end and what they would come to.
Bonnie thought of telling Stefan that she knew about him and his brother. Maybe it would unsettle Stefan a bit, and god, that would make up for how she’d been feeling the last week.
But Stefan looked at her, really looked, gaze piercing and intense, slipping underneath her skin. Bonnie shuddered and realized he already knew.
Maybe he’d been in her head, too.
“Does Elena know?” Bonnie asked instead.
He didn’t move, but something shifted in his eyes, something impenetrable. Bonnie knew the moment when he caught on to what she was saying, when something like shame and desire all mixed in together moved behind his eyes.
“Of course she doesn’t,” Bonnie answered for him. Elena would be horrified. Hell, she’s a little horrified.
She didn’t know why she wasn’t more horrified. Or rather, she didn’t want to think about it, and any thought that lingered too long on it gave her a rolling feeling in her gut.
Maybe it was knowledge gained from everything she’d seen, knowledge she couldn’t take back. It colored everything about Stefan and Damon now. She knew what it was they did when no one looked, the shame Stefan used to cover it up, what he felt when he came, what set him over the edge, all those twisted thoughts rushing through his head. Bonnie knew what blood tasted like, not just the physical taste of it, but exactly how and why it would drive a vampire crazy, the feel of it running down her throat, of flesh caught in her fangs.
Stefan’s fangs. Not hers.
Bonnie took off, not quite running away, but definitely doing something that approximated fleeing. She didn’t want to bear Stefan’s gaze any longer, didn’t want to be near him, didn’t want to think about this.
Stefan didn’t follow her.
****
The next day was quiet. Stefan wasn’t in class. Bonnie thought that maybe she should be worried, but she’d been worried enough the past few days; she’d welcome any sense of relief, even if doubt lingered in the back of her mind.
She was walking to her car when she caught a glimpse of Damon across the courtyard. Just a slight glimpse, Damon inclining his head to her before Bonnie blinked and he was gone. Bonnie thought she might have been slipping back into Stefan’s brain for a moment, even while she was wide awake.
“Hi, Bonnie,” Damon said the moment she turned around, materializing before her with nothing but a damnable grin on his face, blocking the path to her car.
She didn’t exactly jump, but her heart started to race, and from the way Damon’s grin grew wider, he’d heard it, too.
She wanted to punch him. She settled for glaring at him.
“You know, you really shouldn’t sneak up on a witch who could set you on fire,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible, sneaking in the hint of warning in her words.
“Oh, you won’t set me on fire.” Damon chuckled, so sure and arrogant.
“Don’t be so sure. You did try to kill me. Why shouldn’t I set you on fire?” she hissed, shoving Damon out of the way. Damon surprisingly didn’t protest and stepped aside. Bonnie didn’t even stop to wonder why; just wanted to get the fuck away from him.
“Well,” he said, the arrogance in his voice just getting stronger, thick enough to touch, “I just thought you might like to learn how to get rid of those pesky visions you’ve been having. Can’t do that if I’m crispy.”
Bonnie went still. Her hand was on the car door, and she was this close to getting away from him, but fuck, how could she go now?
“You know?”she ventured carefully, trying to stay as calm as possible.
“Stefan talks,” Damon explained. “He expressed his concern about you and would like to rectify the situation.”
Damon didn’t seem at all concerned. More like amused disdain.
“So you know how to…how to stop them.”
And then Damon leaned in, closed in until he was right in her personal space, until their faces were inches apart and Bonnie could feel him breathe on her. Bonnie’s first instinct was to immediately back the hell away, but she was not going to show fear here, not for Damon.
“Oh, don’t be coy, Bonnie. You’ve seen far too much for that.” Damon’s voice had dipped low, and it was-it was so similar to what she’d heard when she’d flashed into Stefan’s head, seductive and honey-sweet. For a moment, she thought she was back in another vision-the sudden spark of lust in her belly disorienting and confusing, her and Stefan’s emotions melding together so she couldn’t tell if this was hers or simply the memory of him, imprinted on her-but no, this was here, now, real.
“Damon,” she warned.
Damon closed his eyes, inhaling. “You do smell different.”
“Damon,” Bonnie said, louder. The air shifted, and crackled around her, and Damon was shoved back against the car with a startled expression on his face, but it quickly melted into something like curiosity, head cocked to the side like a wolf. Bonnie didn’t even know what she had done; it was pure instinct.
Bonnie focused on just breathing for a minute, reining in whatever caused the display of power. She glanced around; everyone was walking around, nobody paying attention to her and the annoyingly persistent psycho vampire in front of her.
“So can you help me or not?” she finally asked.
Damon nodded. “I can. Not that I mind an audience. Stefan does. He’s…prudish that way,” Damon shook his head, like he couldn’t comprehend why that would bother Stefan.
Bonnie did not like the smile on his face. And she really did not want to be in debt to Damon Salvatore.
“How?” she asked.
Damon shrugged. “I’ve been around a while. You’re not the first witch I’ve met.”
“This has happened before?”
Damon was talking completely seriously, but there was a light dancing behind his eyes. He knew something Bonnie didn’t, and it was setting her on edge, preparing her for whatever nasty surprise Damon had in store.
“Yep. Not with me or Stefan-we’ve never been the focus of a link-but I’ve seen it happen before.”
A link, huh? “How do you close it?” Bonnie asked, expecting Damon to rattle off something involving a ritual or something like that, or maybe she’d have to break into Gram’s spellbook.
Damon leaned over, giving her an once-over, his eyes raking across her body with a predatory gleam. His intent was unmistakable. He smiled at her, cool and confident and knife-like. The look in his eyes would have been lewd on anyone else, but not for Damon; lewd was for stupid teenage boys who didn’t know any better. Damon was old, and he’d done this a thousand times. Bonnie had been in Stefan’s head, and she knew how alluring Damon could be, how alluring he was, damn near impossible to resist for long.
“For that, Bonnie, you’ll have to come over with us.” His smile quirked up at the corners of his lips, turning into a smirk, inviting and self-satisfied all at once.
“You are so full of shit,” she hissed, getting into the car.
Damon grabbed the car door, holding it still. “C’mon, Bonnie. You’re the witch. You should know this by now.”
“That you’re a psychotic bastard?”
“How magic works,” Damon didn’t respond to the insult. “Blood and sex are very powerful tools in magic. We opened a link with blood. You close it with sex. You end it with sex. The link is open. You finish it, you close the link, and it all stops.”
Open a link with blood, is that what he calls nearly draining me dry?
“It sounds like bullshit,” she retorted, even if the words made a twisted sort of sense.
“Fine.” Damon shrugged. “It’s your head, your visions.”
He turned around to leave, moving slowly and deliberately, like he knew Bonnie was going to go after him.
“Wait,” she said, hating herself for it.
Damon turned on a dime, grinning. “Yeeees?”
“There’s no other way?”
“You could close it with blood, too, I suppose,” Damon said, “but that would probably involve someone’s death. You’re not prepared to go that far, are you?”
“No,” Bonnie sneered. “I’m not you.”
Damon chuckled, genuinely amused. “Is that a yes?”
“Just remember, I can kill you with a thought now.” Bonnie wasn’t sure if she could or not, but it was good to maintain a sense of confidence in front of Damon. Didn’t want him getting too cocky.
“Don’t worry, Bonnie. Stefan will play chaperone. You have nothing to fear from me. For the moment, anyway.”
“You’re very reassuring.” Bonnie said, glaring. “And if anyone finds out-” If Elena or god forbid, Grams found out-
“It’ll be-” Damon moved his finger to his lips, “-our little secret.”
Bonnie thought he would leave then, but he stayed, lingering near her as Bonnie got in the driver’s seat, determined to ignore him. Damon knocked on the window. Bonnie briefly thought of taking off anyway, leaving him in the dust. But she did the mature thing and rolled the window down, fixing him with an angry stare.
“What?”
Before she could see, Damon had closed the distance between then, his voice next to her ear, his hand gently stroking her hair; it was as if he was playing the act of a close lover, but that’s all it was, just a act.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want to, Bonnie. Don’t act like this is such a burden to do.” He was staring at her knowingly, eyes gleaming darkly, a sharp, seductive edge to his voice. “I can smell your lust all over you, and not all of it is Stefan’s influence.”
Bonnie shivered. “I’m going home now.”
Damon bared his teeth in a smile. “Stefan and I will be at home tonight. You’re free to come in any time.”
****
Stefan answered the door when Bonnie arrived. He blinked at her, shocked. “Bonnie,” he stated tonelessly. “What are you doing here?”
Somewhere behind him, Damon’s voice rang out cheerfully. “Hi, Bonnie! Glad you could make it.”
Bonnie felt the exact moment when anger hit Stefan like a physical force. He had a split-second moment of confusion, and then he bolted away, gone in a second, not even stopping to shut the door. Bonnie couldn’t see what was going on, Stefan and Damon arguing in the living room, away from her, but she could hear it; Stefan whispering furious words to Damon, Damon flinging around taunts like weapons, each carefully designed to pick and pick at Stefan’s armor until he snapped.
The brothers were fighting. Bonnie’s seen this before, lived this, and she knew whenever they got like this, crossing the line from fighting to fucking wouldn’t be hard. But Stefan’s rage was choking her, almost as powerful as his lust, constantly repressed and spilling out into her. She was angry at Damon, wanted to hurt him, too-barely contained violence that wasn’t hers bubbling up inside her, fucking terrifying. It was a fight to just get herself to the living room, dragging her body over the force of Stefan’s turbulent emotions swirling around her mind.
This was starting to get really out of control. It wasn’t just lust and desire she was feeling; it was everything that went through Stefan’s head. She didn’t know if it was a proximity thing, if maybe she got away from Stefan, things would be easier. She didn’t know if this would be a permanent change, but she did know she needed this to end now.
In the Salvatores’ living room, Bonnie met the sight of Stefan, fangs out and snarling at Damon, holding him by the lapels of his shirt. Damon was grinning anyway, the ace up his sleeve making him so fucking confident and she just want to wipe the smirk of his face and make him-
“Stop it,” she demanded, breathless with the strain of it all. “Just stop it, stop it, Stefan, I can’t-”
Bonnie was looking up at him. She hadn’t noticed she had collapsed to the floor.
“Bonnie,” Stefan said, and suddenly he was down by her side, gently brushing the hair out of her eyes. She could feel his concern, his guilt, and god, his guilt. Stefan carried so much guilt around with him, so much remorse, that Bonnie could drown in it. She would drown in it if she didn’t put an end to this. It was a wonder he could even stay sane.
Bonnie looked him in the eyes, wide and sincere. When she reached out and touched the side of his face, they both shuddered, the contact electric.
“I just need this to stop,” she stressed. “I need this.”
Stefan gazed into her eyes, forehead creased in concern. She could feel it, radiating from him into her, his fear and guilt and reluctance.
Stefan nodded.
“See what I mean, brother?” Damon said, running his hand slowly through Stefan’s hair. Both Bonnie and Stefan slid their eyes shut at that, breathing out a soft sigh, the feeling comforting even when it shouldn’t be. “You think we could oblige a lady?”
****
It ended with her on Stefan’s lap, her back pressed against his naked chest and his arms wrapped around her tightly-almost protectively-as his cock thrust into her deep. He slid up against her slick heat and Bonnie clenched around him, moaning in tandem with Stefan’s groans.
Damon was in front of them, grinning like he planned the entire thing, licking and nipping at her throat, mouthing at her nipples. His fingers moved in between Bonnie’s thighs, alternating between stroking her clit and sliding his fingers in with his brother’s cock. That almost felt like too much to handle, but god, she didn’t want them to stop.
This wasn’t like any sex she’d ever had; this crawled inside her skin and pulsed deep and heavy, rearranging her insides. Bonnie was electrified, sparks shooting up her spine, like the longing was something hot and alive and real, with a mind of its own, and it wanted to consume her (her, Stefan, Damon, all of them).
The pressure was building within her as Stefan thrust into Bonnie’s willing body, and it didn’t matter that Bonnie couldn’t see his face. She knew what this was like for him-fighting so hard not to take a taste, just a little taste, a little taste wouldn’t hurt, and Bonnie felt his hunger like a wild animal trapped beneath her skin, begging for release.
Damon’s fangs came out as he kissed the inside of her thigh and instead of the fear or worry that Bonnie should be feeling, instead of her mind screaming danger at her, she laughed, spreading her legs wider, gasping as Stefan went in harder, a sharp frantic edge to his actions.
Their emotions bounced off her and merged into her until Bonnie wasn’t sure where she ended and they began.
Stefan came inside her with a guttural groan; Bonnie felt something unfurl and snap within her, felt the air hiss with power around her, her power, but mostly, she felt Stefan’s orgasm. Bonnie nearly screamed with the violent wave of pleasure that crashed into her and set her on fire, arching into them both and she wasn’t sure if would ever end.
She grabbed Damon by the hair and pulled him closer and her mind flashed to Stefan’s hand. Maybe it was Stefan’s hand grabbing him by the hair, maybe Stefan’s hand guided the action. Maybe they were both doing it, with Bonnie growling as she pulled him closer. Maybe it didn’t even matter anymore.
She kissed him, mouths meeting and tongue tangling and Damon tasted so familiar. She remembered doing this before-except it was Stefan’s mouth instead of hers-and when she bit down on Damon’s lip hard enough to draw blood, Stefan moaned with her.
****
Stefan escorted her out. Bonnie couldn’t read him anymore and she had no clue what he was thinking. But Stefan paused before Bonnie drove away and she’d been in his head long enough to know what he was thinking.
“I’m not going to tell Elena,” she said.
Stefan’s expression was somber. “It’s up to you,” he said. “You decide what to do about it.”
Bonnie should tell Elena. She knew she should: I fucked the guy you like, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, but I had to make the visions stop, and this was the only way how. Oh, and your boyfriend is fucking his brother. Just thought you should know that last bit.
Elena really should know that last bit.
“I won’t tell Elena,” Bonnie agreed, and she drove off before Stefan said much else. She wouldn’t, for now. If something happened, if Elena was in trouble, well, then Bonnie was going to spill, even if it cost them their friendship.
They didn’t talk about it later. Bonnie steered clear out of Damon’s way, and Damon hadn’t found a reason to bother her just yet. Stefan said nothing to her, even as he romanced Elena in front of her. Stefan said nothing, but there was a heavy weight in his eyes whenever he looked at her, guilt aging his young face.
She felt a little guilty, too. Bonnie knew a good friend would tell Elena what had happened. Elena deserved to know what had happened. But mostly, Bonnie felt relief.
Things went back to normal. Bonnie slept and daydreamed, and she didn’t invade Stefan’s mind. No more dropping in announced on the Salvatores having sex.
Except sometimes, while she was sleeping or about to sleep or simply not thinking too hard and leaving her mind open and free, Bonnie got a brief flash of Damon’s eyes on her, blood on her lips, primal hunger in her gut. Sometimes, it was a little more than a flash, another private scene she shouldn’t be witnessing.
Stefan still lingered in her mind, like an old ghost that just wouldn't leave. The link was still there. But this time, all she had to do was focus and she could block it out. This time, it was something Bonnie could touch and bury deep, something she could manipulate with the phantom tendrils of her mind. This was hers now. Her link, under her control. Her power.