Bonnie was the calm one.

Caroline was boy-crazy and Elena was the center of attention.

Some people would hate this, being the quiet, often-overlooked friend, but not Bonnie. She liked to keep things low-key.

Besides, Bonnie knew who she was and didn’t feel the need to fight against it.

At least, this was how things used to be.

But everything was different now.

Elena was dating a vampire and Caroline was…Well, Caroline was pretty much the same.

But Bonnie hardly recognized herself in the mirror anymore.

Ever since she discovered that she was a witch, found out that vampires are real, and definitely since Grams died, it’s like she can’t quite put her finger on reality anymore. No matter how hard she tried.

So she didn’t want to try anymore. And that’s how she’d ended up at the old Salvatore house tonight.

Looking for a little bit of relief.

***

“And what I can do for you my little pixy?”

“Ew, do people actually think that’s sexy?”

Damon Salvatore was gorgeous, Bonnie wouldn’t deny that, but he was also arrogant, annoying, and deadly. Grams taught her to never forget that. “You can’t trust them,” she’d said.

His unaffected grin only slipped a little bit before he said, “Most.”

She rolled her eyes.

“But seriously, Salem, what do you want,” he asked with a little more danger dripping from his voice than before.

She steeled herself, still unsure of what she was about to do.

“I need your help with something. Let’s talk business.”

There was that smile again.

***

Bonnie always tried to do the right thing if for no other reason than she really hated that moment where she realized that she was officially in a sticky situation.

This was one of those moments. Except for the fact that a sticky situation was a gross understatement.

“Ah.” It was a little bit of a moan and a soft yell as it slipped past her lips. She’d meant to keep quiet, refusing to give him the satisfaction. She cursed softly at having given in.

And because Damon is Damon, he couldn’t let it pass. He lifted his head from in between her thighs, his mouth coated in blood. “You like that Sabrina?”

She dropped her head back on the pillow and shut her eyes tight. “Shut up and get back to it.”

He chuckled and then licked her thigh slowly before sinking his teeth back in.

She swallowed another moan and wondered, yet again, what she’d gotten herself into.

***

“So let me get this straight,” Damon was saying, as he slouched on the leather sofa. “You want me… to make you forget.”

“Yes.”

“Because you can’t handle the pain,” he said, as he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. His smile widened a bit and he chuckled.

Her back stiffened and her fists clenched. “Don’t you dare laugh at me. My Grams died because of you. You owe me.”

“I owe you,” he said. No hint of a smile anymore.

It was her time to grin now. “Yes, you owe me.” She stood smoothly from her chair to look down her nose at him. “And I suggest you try not to make me angry. Who knows what I’ll do.”

His lips spread into a hollow shell of a smile, but his eyes were dark with rage. He sat up straight and reached out to run his fingers across the hem of her dress, his eyes glued to the soft skin of her thighs. “No one knows better than me about being unpredictable. So I suggest that you don’t threaten me again. Because I know exactly what I’ll do, little witch.”

She took a deep breath as she backed away from him. He allowed the fabric to slip from his fingers. “So are you gonna do it, or not?”

He stood quickly, clapping his hands. “Of course I will, Samantha. As long as you give me something in return.”

She exhaled loudly. “Wipe that grin off your face. It’s not at all seductive.”

***

Of course what he wanted in return was blood. That’s all they care about. She’d expected that.

What she hadn’t expected was how he wanted to take it.

On a bed. Shirtless, him not her, and from her thigh.

She realized that he was trying to seduce her, not because he was really interested in her, but because he was Damon, and that’s what he did.

At least she thought that was the reason, until she felt his fingers creeping along the edge of her panties.

She froze for a second when he slipped a finger inside to play with the dark curls covering her sex.  And she wanted to scream when he found her clit. But her back arched from the bed and she moaned instead.

“What are you doing,” she said through clenched teeth.

He didn’t bother to answer, at least not with words. He just slipped a finger inside her cunt and continued siphoning her blood.

***

Bonnie was a virgin. That’s what happened when you were the sensible one. Boys rarely noticed you, and when they did they quickly grew tired of the girl who never put out. And no one really ever understands the girl who’s waiting for the one.

And that’s what Bonnie had always planned to do. Wait for the one. She’d almost gone all the way with Keith Brickman last year after a whirlwind summer fling, but they had to stop so that she could make curfew. And it’s a good thing too since she found out a few days later that he was two-timing her with Samantha Lane.

But here she was, spread eagled on a bed with Damon Salvatore, vampire sociopath, grinding against his hand, while he sucked her blood.

If Bonnie was unsure before, it was painfully obvious now that she’d hit rock bottom.

But that’s why she was here, she tried to console herself, to forget all the things that had led her to this place. She would just add this to the list.

And when she heard him unzipping his pants she reached down to push his head deeper between her thighs, secure in the fact that tomorrow she wouldn’t remember the feel of his dick as he smoothed it across her opening or the taste of her own blood on his lips as he kissed her. And she would absolutely forget how her heartbeat quickened when his warm tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting of metal, as he pressed his cock inside her, or the fact that she liked it so much that she was practically overflowing from excitement.

***

She clenched her thighs together, hating how empty they felt without him.

She was not Caroline. She would never be that girl, who thought sex, even amazing (albeit disturbing) thigh shaking sex was anything more than that. Especially in this situation, with him. Even if she could believe that vampires had feelings, she would never be fool enough to think that Damon Salvatore could emote anything more than lust and rage.

“What are you thinking about Willow?”

She wanted to roll her eyes but honestly was too tired to muster the energy.

“My name is not Willow. Or Sabrina? Or Samantha? Or Endora? Nor is it “little witch” or Salem.” She sat up, gripping the sheets across her breasts. “My name is Bonnie fucking Bennett.”

He put his hands behind his head, clearly trying to put his pasty chest on display. “Alright, aright, calm down Bonnie. And I didn’t call you Endora.”

That damn cocky grin again.

“I was heading you off, just in case. So let’s get to it.”

“Oh, look at you. Ready for me again… already?” He reached out to stroke her exposed thigh, but she slapped his hand away.

“No, bloodsucker. We made a deal, now it’s your turn to pay up.”

“A deal?” Her heart started to pound in her chest.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she said, in a warning tone.

“Wouldn’t dream of it En-… Sorry, Bonnie. I just might have forgotten to tell you something before we… sealed the deal, as it were.”

This time she did roll her eyes, and so hard she thought they might get stuck that way. “Forgot?”

“Yea, nothing big necessarily, just… important.”

“How important?”

“Well,” he slipped out of the bed and Bonnie realized that he was putting distance between them. “I might have forgotten to tell you that, technically, I mean if you want to be technical, my… powers, or whatever you want to call them…”

“Get to the point,” she screamed.

“… don’t work on you.”

“What?!”

***

Grams once told a very tiny Bonnie with pigtails that she musn’t lose her temper. She could get mad, sure, but she really shouldn’t tip over the edge into livid or irate.

At the time Bonnie thought Grams was just being… Grams. Her grandmother never raised her voice but somehow everyone who knew her feared her, like a hurricane. Bonnie had thought that Grams was just trying to teach her that kind of strength and power.

It was only when she stood in the woods outside of the Salvatore house staring at the hole she’d blown out of the building that she realized what Grams might have been hinting at.

To be fair, she really hadn’t meant to do it. But by the time she felt the power surging through her body it was too late. There was nothing she could do to stop it.

The sound of the explosion was deafening.

She shivered violently as he neared her, the cold from his skin radiating around her. He was shirtless, with a pair of slacks and no shoes, while she stood there with a thin sheet wrapped around her body like a toga. She didn’t see him grab any clothing and she more than hated him for not even bothering to find her dress.

“My my my, look at what you’ve done.”

“Shut up Damon. I’m not in the mood.”

“Not in the mood for what exactly Bonnie,” he whispered in her ear.

She jumped at the sound of the fire truck in the distance. “Oh my god, what are we going to do? What am I…”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Calm down little witch.” I’ll handle it.”

“How?! I’m naked in a sheet in your front lawn and there’s a huge hole in your house. How the hell are you going to explain any of this?”

He took her in for a second. “I’ll think of something to say about the house, but it’s probably best if no one saw you here… like that,” he said, grabbing at the fabric just barely covering her breast.

She pulled away from him.

“Here,” he said pressing his car keys into her palm, “take my car and drive really fast.”

For the first time tonight she didn’t think, she didn’t question, she just did what he said. She climbed into his convertible and revved the engine.

But as she was backing out of his garage he leaned into the driver’s side window.

“Oh and Bonnie, I won’t forget what happened here tonight. And I’m sure you won’t either,” he said, licking his lips.