fic: a little old place where (tvd, bonnie/jeremy)
Title: a little old place where
Author: empressearwig
Pairing/Fandom: Bonnie/Jeremy, The Vampire Diaries
Spoilers: Through 2x18, The Last Dance
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 1500
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is all for fun. This hasn't happened. Yet. Etc.
Summary: Teenagers. Alone in an abandoned house. You do the math.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to both torigates and summerstorm, first for encouraging this to exist and second, for fixing my mistakes. Any that are left are entirely my own fault.
He's trying to drive her crazy.
That's the only thing Bonnie can think after Jeremy brushes his hand over the small of her back for the fifth time in the last half hour. But that's not the real problem. The real problem is that he's not doing more than that. Oh, he'll touch her arm or brush her hair back from her eyes. He presses gentle kisses to her forehead, and he seems to love holding her hand. He only touches her with safe, innocent touches, the kind that shouldn't make her want to rip his shirt from his body and push him to the dusty floor and have her way with him.
She blinks, and shakes her head. Maybe he's already made her crazy. Crazy with lust, a voice insists. And looking at him, bent over one of the grimoire's, she has to admit that the voice has a point.
But then how is she not supposed to want him? He has this way of smiling, and he's always licking his lips, and when he stretches, his shirt rides up and she can see his abs, and well, she'd have to not be human to not have any thoughts about running her tongue over them.
"What did you just say?" Jeremy asks, looking at her strangely.
She feels her face go hot, and she clamps her hand over her mouth. She didn't say that out loud. She couldn't have said that out loud.
"Bonnie?" Jeremy asks, the corners of his mouth starting to turn up into the cocky smile that god help her, she likes.
She moves her hand. "Nothing," she says, hoping against hope that she sounds convincing. Knowing that she doesn't. "I didn't say anything."
Now he's all out grinning at her. "You're a terrible liar," he says, and he's moving closer to her, wrapping his arm around her back. "You know that, right?"
"Yes," she says, nodding her head. "I do know that. What did you hear?"
"Oh, I don't think I should make it that easy for you, do you?" he asks, his hand tracing along her spine.
She shivers. She can't help it. "I do think that."
He laughs, low and deep, and there she goes shivering again. He opens his mouth to say something else, but she kisses him before he can. From the way that he kisses her back, she's pretty sure that he doesn't mind.
He tugs her closer, into his lap, and she kneels over his legs. He kisses her throat, and she can feel him smile against her skin. "Distracting me?"
"Yep," she says, sliding her hands under his shirt and pushing it up. She pulls it over his head, and her arms go around his neck. She kisses him, long and deep. When she pulls back, she asks, "Is it working?"
His hands are on her hips, and he's rubbing his fingers across the bare skin between her shirt and her jeans. He looks at her, his eyes dark, and his fingertips slide just under her shirt, inching the fabric up. "Well," he says, pressing a kiss to her jaw, and then another, "that depends."
She knows what he wants. She wants it too. So she kisses him, and then lowers her hands to his. She helps him draw the shirt up, raising her arms so that he can lift it over her head. When he touches her bare skin, she shivers again. He shouldn't be able to do this to her by doing so little, she thinks hazily. But then he unhooks her bra, and lowers his mouth to kiss her breast, and she stops being able to think at all.
"God," she breathes out, her hands going to his head. She never wants him to stop doing that. Ever.
He presses her back into the blankets, and shifts so that he's lying between her thighs. His mouth moves lower, over her stomach, and she can't help the way she tenses, just a little. This isn't new, they've done this -- they've done more, but it's still not something that she's used to. He stops, raises his head and looks at her. "We don't --" he says, and she sets a finger against his lips.
She reaches for the button on her jeans, flicks it open. "I want to," she says, and she doesn't sound like herself at all, her voice is lower and raspier and she sees something in his eyes flash, like that's what he needed to believe her.
He draws the zipper down and she helps him push her jeans and her underwear to her knees, letting him pull them the rest of the way off. His hands trace back up her legs, starting at her ankle and working his way up to her knee. He kisses the inside of her thigh, his mouth moving higher, inch by torturous inch. She feels the anticipation building in her, but he doesn't move his mouth to where she wants him. He switches legs instead, starting all over again, and she moves, restlessly against his mouth and hands.
"Jeremy, please," she begs, reaching for him, but he stays just out of her grasp.
He lets out a hot breath against her thigh, nuzzling against her skin. "Tell me what you want," he says. "Just tell me what you want and I'll do it."
She bites her lip, unsure she if she can. He kisses her again, just a little bit higher, and she can see him looking up at her behind hooded eyes. He wants to do this. She wants him to do this. She can ask for what they both want. "Go down on me," she says and then she waits.
His hands curl under her ass and his mouth is against her in seconds. He slides a finger deep inside her, and her hips arch in response. His tongue presses against her clit, and she can't help the moan that escapes her lips. He adds another finger. She grasps wildly at his hair, her fingers twining through it. "Jeremy," she gasps. "God, yes." She knows that she's on the brink. She says his name again, his tongue presses against her in exactly the right way, and she comes apart against him.
She trembles through the aftershocks, and when her eyes open, he is looking up at her with a satisfied smile on his face.
"You liked that," he says, more than a little smugly. He moves up over her, kisses her neck.
"I liked it," she says as boldly as she can, tugging his head up so that she can kiss him. While he's distracted, she reaches for the button on his jeans, slides her hand inside. His hips thrust against her in surprise, and she pushes the material lower so that she can take him in her hand.
He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in short pants. "Bonnie," he manages to say. "What're we --"
She looks up at him, and she can see just by looking at him how much he wants her. His jaw is slack, and his pupils are blown, and when she draws her thumb over the crown of his dick, he groans just a little. She kisses his jaw and asks, "Do you have something?"
He stares down at her, surprise written all over his face. "Are you sure?" he asks, because it's him and of course he would ask, even though she can tell that he's terrified she's going to change her mind.
She won't. "Yes," she says, tightening her grip on him and moving her hand faster. "Now. Condom?"
He's gone in a rush, pushing his jeans the rest of the way down his legs. She props herself up on her elbows to watch the show. He fumbles for the wallet in his back pocket, pulls out a condom. He moves back over her, tearing open the condom wrapper. She kisses his throat, moving her hands over his back as he rolls it on, and then he's back between her legs, pressing against her, and he pauses.
"Okay?" he asks.
She nods, trying not to tense up, trying to relax. He moves inside her, his eyes fast on her face. He goes slow, and she is grateful for that. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it feels different, like she's being stretched and it's not bad, but it's not really good either. His hand slips between them, and he touches her clit and that's better. He moves his hips, and his fingers again, and that's much better. Her nails dig into his back, and she rocks her hips in time with his.
"Bonnie," he groans against her neck, his breath warm on her skin. "Can I--"
"Yes," she says, not caring what he's going to say next.
He moves faster. She moves faster. He adds more pressure to her clit, and she comes again, gasping his name. He thrusts his hips twice more, and then he comes too, collapsing on top of her.
She's only dimly aware of him rolling away from her, getting rid of the condom. But then he's back, spooning his body up against hers. "Are you okay?" he asks, whispering the words into ear.
She nods, turning her head around so that she can kiss him. "I am," she says. And she is.
She leans her head back against his chest, and he tightens his arms around her. They fall asleep in each other's arms, and when they wake, they go back to trying to save the world.
Author: empressearwig
Pairing/Fandom: Bonnie/Jeremy, The Vampire Diaries
Spoilers: Through 2x18, The Last Dance
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 1500
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is all for fun. This hasn't happened. Yet. Etc.
Summary: Teenagers. Alone in an abandoned house. You do the math.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to both torigates and summerstorm, first for encouraging this to exist and second, for fixing my mistakes. Any that are left are entirely my own fault.
He's trying to drive her crazy.
That's the only thing Bonnie can think after Jeremy brushes his hand over the small of her back for the fifth time in the last half hour. But that's not the real problem. The real problem is that he's not doing more than that. Oh, he'll touch her arm or brush her hair back from her eyes. He presses gentle kisses to her forehead, and he seems to love holding her hand. He only touches her with safe, innocent touches, the kind that shouldn't make her want to rip his shirt from his body and push him to the dusty floor and have her way with him.
She blinks, and shakes her head. Maybe he's already made her crazy. Crazy with lust, a voice insists. And looking at him, bent over one of the grimoire's, she has to admit that the voice has a point.
But then how is she not supposed to want him? He has this way of smiling, and he's always licking his lips, and when he stretches, his shirt rides up and she can see his abs, and well, she'd have to not be human to not have any thoughts about running her tongue over them.
"What did you just say?" Jeremy asks, looking at her strangely.
She feels her face go hot, and she clamps her hand over her mouth. She didn't say that out loud. She couldn't have said that out loud.
"Bonnie?" Jeremy asks, the corners of his mouth starting to turn up into the cocky smile that god help her, she likes.
She moves her hand. "Nothing," she says, hoping against hope that she sounds convincing. Knowing that she doesn't. "I didn't say anything."
Now he's all out grinning at her. "You're a terrible liar," he says, and he's moving closer to her, wrapping his arm around her back. "You know that, right?"
"Yes," she says, nodding her head. "I do know that. What did you hear?"
"Oh, I don't think I should make it that easy for you, do you?" he asks, his hand tracing along her spine.
She shivers. She can't help it. "I do think that."
He laughs, low and deep, and there she goes shivering again. He opens his mouth to say something else, but she kisses him before he can. From the way that he kisses her back, she's pretty sure that he doesn't mind.
He tugs her closer, into his lap, and she kneels over his legs. He kisses her throat, and she can feel him smile against her skin. "Distracting me?"
"Yep," she says, sliding her hands under his shirt and pushing it up. She pulls it over his head, and her arms go around his neck. She kisses him, long and deep. When she pulls back, she asks, "Is it working?"
His hands are on her hips, and he's rubbing his fingers across the bare skin between her shirt and her jeans. He looks at her, his eyes dark, and his fingertips slide just under her shirt, inching the fabric up. "Well," he says, pressing a kiss to her jaw, and then another, "that depends."
She knows what he wants. She wants it too. So she kisses him, and then lowers her hands to his. She helps him draw the shirt up, raising her arms so that he can lift it over her head. When he touches her bare skin, she shivers again. He shouldn't be able to do this to her by doing so little, she thinks hazily. But then he unhooks her bra, and lowers his mouth to kiss her breast, and she stops being able to think at all.
"God," she breathes out, her hands going to his head. She never wants him to stop doing that. Ever.
He presses her back into the blankets, and shifts so that he's lying between her thighs. His mouth moves lower, over her stomach, and she can't help the way she tenses, just a little. This isn't new, they've done this -- they've done more, but it's still not something that she's used to. He stops, raises his head and looks at her. "We don't --" he says, and she sets a finger against his lips.
She reaches for the button on her jeans, flicks it open. "I want to," she says, and she doesn't sound like herself at all, her voice is lower and raspier and she sees something in his eyes flash, like that's what he needed to believe her.
He draws the zipper down and she helps him push her jeans and her underwear to her knees, letting him pull them the rest of the way off. His hands trace back up her legs, starting at her ankle and working his way up to her knee. He kisses the inside of her thigh, his mouth moving higher, inch by torturous inch. She feels the anticipation building in her, but he doesn't move his mouth to where she wants him. He switches legs instead, starting all over again, and she moves, restlessly against his mouth and hands.
"Jeremy, please," she begs, reaching for him, but he stays just out of her grasp.
He lets out a hot breath against her thigh, nuzzling against her skin. "Tell me what you want," he says. "Just tell me what you want and I'll do it."
She bites her lip, unsure she if she can. He kisses her again, just a little bit higher, and she can see him looking up at her behind hooded eyes. He wants to do this. She wants him to do this. She can ask for what they both want. "Go down on me," she says and then she waits.
His hands curl under her ass and his mouth is against her in seconds. He slides a finger deep inside her, and her hips arch in response. His tongue presses against her clit, and she can't help the moan that escapes her lips. He adds another finger. She grasps wildly at his hair, her fingers twining through it. "Jeremy," she gasps. "God, yes." She knows that she's on the brink. She says his name again, his tongue presses against her in exactly the right way, and she comes apart against him.
She trembles through the aftershocks, and when her eyes open, he is looking up at her with a satisfied smile on his face.
"You liked that," he says, more than a little smugly. He moves up over her, kisses her neck.
"I liked it," she says as boldly as she can, tugging his head up so that she can kiss him. While he's distracted, she reaches for the button on his jeans, slides her hand inside. His hips thrust against her in surprise, and she pushes the material lower so that she can take him in her hand.
He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in short pants. "Bonnie," he manages to say. "What're we --"
She looks up at him, and she can see just by looking at him how much he wants her. His jaw is slack, and his pupils are blown, and when she draws her thumb over the crown of his dick, he groans just a little. She kisses his jaw and asks, "Do you have something?"
He stares down at her, surprise written all over his face. "Are you sure?" he asks, because it's him and of course he would ask, even though she can tell that he's terrified she's going to change her mind.
She won't. "Yes," she says, tightening her grip on him and moving her hand faster. "Now. Condom?"
He's gone in a rush, pushing his jeans the rest of the way down his legs. She props herself up on her elbows to watch the show. He fumbles for the wallet in his back pocket, pulls out a condom. He moves back over her, tearing open the condom wrapper. She kisses his throat, moving her hands over his back as he rolls it on, and then he's back between her legs, pressing against her, and he pauses.
"Okay?" he asks.
She nods, trying not to tense up, trying to relax. He moves inside her, his eyes fast on her face. He goes slow, and she is grateful for that. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it feels different, like she's being stretched and it's not bad, but it's not really good either. His hand slips between them, and he touches her clit and that's better. He moves his hips, and his fingers again, and that's much better. Her nails dig into his back, and she rocks her hips in time with his.
"Bonnie," he groans against her neck, his breath warm on her skin. "Can I--"
"Yes," she says, not caring what he's going to say next.
He moves faster. She moves faster. He adds more pressure to her clit, and she comes again, gasping his name. He thrusts his hips twice more, and then he comes too, collapsing on top of her.
She's only dimly aware of him rolling away from her, getting rid of the condom. But then he's back, spooning his body up against hers. "Are you okay?" he asks, whispering the words into ear.
She nods, turning her head around so that she can kiss him. "I am," she says. And she is.
She leans her head back against his chest, and he tightens his arms around her. They fall asleep in each other's arms, and when they wake, they go back to trying to save the world.