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I’ve missed you so much!! Looking forward to whenever you post it 🤍 hope you’re doing well.

fic news: For my bamon fam still around, I have on my hands an update for Protagonista (or no harm ever came from reading a book) and a bamon one-shot. I hope I will be able to pulish them soon.

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I LOVED THIS!!!! Thank you so much for the bamon content!

pt. 2 of Bonnie Playing with Damon’s Hair as requested by @godessofbucky 💗

Bonnie gets it.

Gets it as in grabs it and gets in as in understands it, because this is the one thing that will keep her mouth and mind occupied, the singular coping mechanism that isn’t as dangerous as letting her fingers trail through Damon’s hair or letting her mind linger on his lips to dredge up a kiss she pushed so far into her memory, it has cobwebs.

Honey.

But not just any honey; local, raw organic honey that the minimart used to sell before it finally shut down the same day her orange balloon slipped out of her hand and went up, up, and away. The very honey that Abigail Bennett finished in one sitting whilst pregnant, which sent fetus Bonnie into a sugar high and Abby straight to the emergency room.

So when she takes her first spoonful since before she can remember, she gets why this honey almost killed her in the womb with it’s smoky, spicy essence, as dark as molasses and the sweetest jaw-tingling aftertaste.

“Mmmm.” She groans and just like that, all the space Damon takes up in her brain is temporarily supplemented with this miraculous nectar.

By the third day, the bottle is halfway gone and she’s long since abandoned the spoon, instead using her index and middle finger to dip into the jar so deep that her fingertips tap the bottom.

She’s in the middle of sucking the tacky deliciousness off of her knuckles when Damon enters the kitchen then freezes.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks, evaluating her fingers in her mouth like he’s impressed.

Bonnie is obviously annoyed that even her guilty pleasures he has to ruin. (And be apart of.) “Shut up.”

“The little witch elbow-deep in her honey pot. I think I had a dream about this last night.”

Even with how awkward it’s been between them since the incident she’ll never speak on, he can never miss a day of innuendos. It’s her job to put him in check but that seems so exhausting lately.

She sighs. It’s easy to focus on his less appealing characteristics but when he’s constantly serving sex on a platter, all of those things that make her eyes roll become fuzzy…insignificant.

“What’s so special about it anyway?”

“The fact that you can’t taste it,” Bonnie says in between licks.

He takes his thumb along the rim and pops it in his mouth quickly. “Looks like I just did.”

.

“Happy Galentine’s Day!”

Bonnie has a white box the size of her palm with a red ribbon wrapped in fourths. Her hand is outstretched proudly and there’s a genuine, toothy grin on her face.

“Am I supposed to understand what that is?”

According to Bonnie, this May 10th 1994 is actually Valentine’s Day, Elena’s favorite holiday due to the chocolates and flowers and Caroline’s favorite holiday for the excessive use of the color pink.

“Galentine’s day as in-“

“Valentine’s day but for… gals? I hate to break it to you, Bon but there’s this thing between my legs that obstructs my rights to participate.”

“Oh my god. Please just say normal things for once.”

“Normal is so difficult, though.” He grabs the little gift and opens it unceremoniously, discarding the ribbon and box over his shoulder. Just when he’s about to say the day is stupid and the gifts are stupid and they should continue on with figuring out how to escape his stupid repeating hell, Damon stops himself, his mouth still ajar with words unsaid before he settles on half a smile.

It’s a necklace, a thin silver necklace that catches every hint of light, it may as well be chrome. Minimal in its design, discreet if not for the tiny witch’s hat charm attempting to weigh it down.

He looks at Bonnie who has this eager expression on her face asking Do you like it? Do you like it? Do you? Do you?

And he does, he loves it but instead he says, “I hate it.”

.

Most days he misses her.

Especially in moments like these where his bubble bath foam is up to his nose and his water is hot enough to burn him, he thinks of Elena, then he thinks of how awfully empty his bathroom counter looks without all of her bobby pins and he actually anticipates her coming in, leaving bits of herself for him like she normally does without a second thought before he remembers that this is hell.

It’s the morning of Valentine’s Day and only Elena knows that he’s a romantic who’d have the room filled with so many flowers, she’d forget where the doors were.

He sinks a little lower in his tub and tries to hear her voice say his name, with that same weight- same effort- it stabs him how he can never get the tone quite right.

On the brink of despair, covered in bubbles, Damon considers turning off his humanity. For once, he wants to think of doe eyes, olive skin, and brown hair without feeling a damn thing but he can’t. He has to sit with this torture if it ensures that Bonnie is safe.

Bonnie.

Every time her fingers lace through his hair, he thinks of it as her counting to ten, realizing she’s here with another solid body who can exist in the silence and not disappear. He’s become so attached to her, she’s ever the worm that wiggles its way in his thoughts no matter how deep the soil is from the surface.

Damon loves it. She is his one thing he never had to share with anyone, so he wants every bit of her that slips through the cracks of the guard she built years ago. He wants to be apart of Bonnie like the sadness and the beauty, and that’s the only way he can view this place as an opportunity.

Bonnie.

Wearing her backless leotard today like a tiny ballerina that opens with a jewelry box, twirling to her special lullaby. Holding out a gift for him simply because she’s sweeter than that honey she’s addicted to.

He thinks of the kiss. The weight of her lips on his, so soft and timid at first. Her skin the perfect counterpart to his tongue, how the scent in the crook of her neck was enough to make his eyes water with want.

Of course Damon has to say that he hates the necklace to get her to stop looking at him like that, with her eyes wide marbles of pure green hope, as if she trusts him, as if she believes in him. The god of his world looking up at him with admiration- it makes him stop every train of thought he possesses- even the ones that lead straight to Elena.

It’s dangerous, the fact that the little witch has all this power without knowing, so he must wriggle out of her control, look passed her charms and hold on to a hate he can no longer recollect.

.

They’re both just trying to cope, Bonnie with her honey and Damon with his hate to occupy themselves from each other.

He starts an argument with his hand in his pocket, holding on to his favorite necklace like a lifeline as he lies and lies.

She is embarrassed that she allowed herself to care enough to pet a monster.

They argue on Valentine’s Day for hours about things that don’t matter or make sense but the thing is, the two of them have never looked more like a real couple.

.

Bonnie wakes up the next morning to a matte black box next to her. The house is quiet for once, no Boyz II Men or obnoxious whistling, no clinking of pots and pans, no buzzing of the microwave, or sizzling of pancakes; it’s the first time she’s truly felt alone.

She leverages herself, looks around in the silence as if Damon is hiding in the blinds or something then grabs her new quiet companion to place in her lap. Her sudden movement causes a card to flop out from underneath her box that reads I was being a dick in award-winning calligraphy.

“Wow,” she says to herself, admittedly taken aback that his penmanship is better than hers.

“Mmmm,” she mumbles with the smell that greets her when she removes the lid. Down in the box are gorgeous little chocolates, nutty and sweet- and once she takes a bite she realizes they’re caramel-honeyed bonbons. “Awww…”

It’s his way of saying sorry without actually saying it, and he may have a point because these taste way better than an apology.

She’s still in the tank top and underwear she’d slept in, ruling her candies too delicious and too thoughtful to not thank Damon immediately after brushing her teeth. The pink of her fingernails chips ever so slightly with the quickness in which she descends the stairs, fingertips trailing the bannister absentmindedly.

“Damon?” She is only a little worried when he doesn’t reply immediately but apparently he’s in the study with a book up to his face.

“You were being a dick.”

He sets the book in his lap, half-smirk in place. “I was.”

“But I forgive you. Thank you.”

Damon isn’t done just yet, though, he reaches beside him to pick up a jewelry box, identical to the one he opened yesterday except this one is red with a white ribbon around it.

Her eyebrows lift before she grabs it, tosses the ribbon behind her and gasps.

Pearls, two rows of Golden South Sea Pearls that are almost invisible when Damon clasps them against her golden brown skin-a breathtaking necklace that stops right at the base of her neck. The shade of the pearls would make a perfect nude had it not been emphasized with Pigeon Blood Rubies, one on both rows, diagonal to each other as if she’s been bitten.

“Oh my god,” she touches them with her fingertips, stunned.

“Happy Day-After Valentine’s Day, Bonnie.”

.

Despite all he’s done to prove he’s sorry, there’s an actual apology probing the insides of his mouth. Even worse, an explanation as to why he’s been so grumpy lately. As he’s about to tell her everything, Bonnie says, “I miss her too, you know?” She has a knack for streamlining his thoughts. “So it’s not an excuse.”

“I know, you’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

She looks at him mockingly, hand at her heart and mouth agape, “Damon admitting he’s wrong?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I simply said you’re right. And you are, now let’s move on.”

They’re smiling at each other the way that two ultra best friends do, yet his eyes dip to her mouth and she mirrors him. Bonnie averts her gaze to reach for her honey that’s never too far away but Damon pushes it out of her grasp.

He lays his head in her lap and soon after, her fingertips are tracing through tufts of raven soft hair gentle enough that his eyelashes flutter.

Damon believes the little witch can weave webs of gold with fingers so gentle and he’d tangle himself all up in it without her having to ask.

[bamonstrash]

ULTIMATE SHIPS CHALLENGE - [1/5] Heartwarming Scenes ↳ “I dreamed of being important to someone. Someday.” “…You’re important to me.”

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She’s not, she’s black.

It’s interesting how any relationship involving a WOC will be percieved as toxic and abusive regardless of the functionality of the relationship. The shippers will be called people names, viewed as somehow deficient and suffer harassment campaigns.

Some of the dynamics really will be toxic and abusive and yet similar relationships with white women will not be treated the same way. They aren’t free from criticism of course, but in many cases of these relationships don’t get nearly the same hate. I wonder why???

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Because in the comics she’s a white woman and on the show she’s black, they’re like purists. As for Bonnie/kat it’s because she was black and also because of how the writers treated her.

It’s interesting how any relationship involving a WOC will be percieved as toxic and abusive regardless of the functionality of the relationship. The shippers will be called people names, viewed as somehow deficient and suffer harassment campaigns.

Some of the dynamics really will be toxic and abusive and yet similar relationships with white women will not be treated the same way. They aren’t free from criticism of course, but in many cases of these relationships don’t get nearly the same hate. I wonder why???

[bamonstrash]

I LOVED THIS!!!! Thank you so much.

any way we could get some bamon baby fluff or baby angst drabbles? I’m in a drought 💔

[I typed this out on my phone because my laptop has been buffering all day, so consider the typos and format glitches the price we’re both paying, lmao]

Damon hadn’t understood her decision at all until the final moment. He hadn’t known what powered the absolute assuredness with which she’d always refused him on this. Her immortality. He hadn’t known. He could never have guessed that the one thing he’d wanted from her, as Stefan had once wanted from him, was the same thing standing in the way of this moment. This perfect, impossible moment. Fulfilling a need he hadn’t even thought to name, from an ancient place in his tired soul, cowering in the bright light of its exaltation. He never imagined this day, and even if he had, no perfect ideation would have done it justice. Pouring blood into her mouth, he let Stefan move first, making sure Bonnie was alright. His eyes were trapped elsewhere. On someone entirely new. A shrill scream broke and urged him to lift the small creature, oh-so-gently into his arms. His and Bonnies eyes connected then and the relief caused them both to physically sag a little, and she broke into a broad smile at the sight of him and their baby. Moving to her, he watched as gravity turned on itself, letting him lodge himself onto this, here, his life’s new axis. The two of them, his family.

When Bonnie asks him to turn her, Leila (a compromise between Sheila and Lily’s names) is just taking her first steps. With that same resolution she’d used to reject his offer, she now used to stake her claim. “What changed your mind?” He wondered, mouth brushing passed hers, enjoying as she did she lingering taste of blood. “Everything,” she tells him, holding his face in her hands, thumbs smoothing across the angles of his face. “I never expected a family of my own, something to actually live for again. I didn’t think I would survive the pain of losing the one I was born with. A part of me didn’t want to,” she says quietly, nodding to herself as she speaks, “I didn’t ever think I’d be a mother, let alone that I’d convince myself I could be one long enough to try … and here I am, with you,” she pressed her forehead to his, standing on her tiptoes as he pulls her even further into him. “And it’s better than anything I ever could have wanted for myself.” His breathing slows, and he wishes he could keep this here, this feeling, this soothing sensation filling him up to the brim. “Forever went from being a torture tactic, to the only thing keeping me at bay, knowing we can more of this, a little closer to all of it, every,” she kissed him quickly, “last,” and again, “drop of it,” his tongue curled into her mouth and he walked them backwards, lifting her against the wall of their new house. The sound he made as he thought about it, the ceaseless tide of Bonnie’s love and the life he was going to live in the swarm of it, giving her the very best, most sacred parts of him, the ones no one thought could be found, not even him. She swallowed the noise in her mouth around a sharp breath of her own as their bodies moved together, in their favourite dance. “I get you, forever,” Damon ground into her, “and ever, and ever-”

Time is slow, and it is sure, and Leila brings them all back together. Stefan reveals Sarah, and Caroline finally tells him how she feels one day, while arguing over who had godparent-visitation for that day. Sarah and Matt are instantaneous and inseparable. Damon swears that Leila’s magic’s affinity lays in emotions and not the elemental, and Bonnie doesn’t dismiss him. Leila is quick-witted and intelligent, even for a four-year old. “She knows exactly what she’s doing,” Damon says, nodding seriously as Bonnie laughs at him, “I swear! It’s textbook me if I wanted to get something out of Stefan-” Bonnie looks over at the wide-eyed gaze her daughter shoots up at her uncle, and laughs at how quickly he relents to her latest whim, lifting her up and into his arms, “she’s going to be president one day.” Bonnie hums in the affirmative, squealing when Damon pulls her to him. “I think we should get married,” he says, “what are you doing next week?” Bonnie chuckles, taking his face in her hands as he dances them slowly around Stefan’s kitchen. “You can’t sit still, can you?” She asks and he shakes his head, no, and they both laugh. “This is the longest we’ve been in one place, you know, and for two months at that,” Bonnie tells him. “Exactly,” he says, “Time for me to make an honest women out of you,” Bonnie chortles at that, thoroughly amused. “Better late than never” she agrees.

“So, what are you getting mom for her birthday?”

“Well, Leels, that’s why I brought you with me. If I told you how many times I’ve done this, and inadvertently made it progressively harder on myself to make the next one -this one- better than the last-” Leila holds out a hand to silence her father’s dramatics as they walk down the busy shopping street.

“Dad just be thoughtful, mom isn’t flashy.”

“She doesn’t have to be flashy. I’m flashy enough for both of us.”

“Ooh, you should get her a nice dress.”

“A dress? That’s your genius idea?”

“Stop!” Leila swats at him, with a giggle as he pulls on one of her braids. “Dad, I’m serious. Show me a dress that wouldn’t look amazing on mom”

“Fair point. But a dress is so … it’s so …”

“A dress from a designer living in the city you’re planning a surprise vacation for the two of you to go to?”

“That’s my baby,” Damon pulls her into his side, “and don’t bother feeding me some bullshit about sleepovers and homework while we’re gone you’re staying at Caroline and Stefan’s.”

“Oh come on, I’m fifteen! I can be home alone!”

“For a week? Unlikely, my little Banana Leil.” She pulled a face, looking so much like her mother that it made him grin. “Or do you wanna skip school and come with us?”

“Wait, so I can skip school, but I can’t be home alone?” Damon frowned for a beat to think, and then nodded, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yes. Why? Because i said so,” she narrows her eyes at him, shaking her head.

“My father is a menace,” she says aloud to herself, sighing dramatically as she follows after him. “Wait, what am I getting mom?”

“Whatever you want to,” Damon said with a shrug, throwing his arm around her shoulder. A group of teenagers made a show of ogling him while he ordered them coffee at a Starbucks.

“He’s my father,” Leila drawled loudly to the one who was trying to figure out their dynamic with her friends.

“So? I could also call him daddy,” the girl returns with a wicked grin and Leila uses her magic to slap it off of her face, smug when the impact startles her, frightening her off.

“I love that I’m always going to be hot enough to start fights among women,” Damon says, handing her her order.

“Gross, dad,” Leila laughs begrudgingly as they make their way back to his car.

“You should come with us,” Damon says as she clicks her seatbelt on. “I’ll make sure the house is big so you won’t hear us having sex,” she glares across at him, “what? Is sex on the list of words I’m not allowed to use, too?”

“It should be,” Leila retorts, mutedly disturbed. “I’ll stay with Uncle Stefan, you two haven’t had any couple time in forever. I know you used to travel more when I was younger, so-”

“Don’t martyr me, who is she?”

“Nothing! No one! Shut up!” Leila yelps. “God you are so nosy!”

“We’re meeting her when we’re back, or I’m telling.” Leila seethes quietly for a few moments before she sighs.

“Fine.”

“I’m so good,” he laughs, reversing out, “honestly, I’m a genius.”

“Shut up, dad. I haven’t even told Benji, and he’s my literal best friend-” Damon makes a buzzer noise.

“-After you, you know that,” she pats his hand as she looks out of the window before her eyes are back on him, “and the only reason I haven’t told mom anything yet, is because she knows her mom-”

“Oh my god, you like Francesca?”

“Ho-why do you know her name?”

“Bonnie was talking about her mother the other day, said she had a really nice daughter, your age-ish, sixteen, wondered if you two would get along … if only she knew, huh?” He wiggled his brows, teasing.

“Can we drive back down the old roads, maybe one of those potholes will open up and swallow us both.”

“I’ll stop, sorry,” he said still laughing, “no more teasing. I swear. Well, probably not, but I’m doing my best to keep the one liners at bay, but you know how funny I am-”

“Hilarious,” she deadpans, “Non-stop riot.”

“You should wear the lucky leather jacket that your mom stole from me after the inter dimensional round trip we did to 1994.”

“Did she steal it if it looks better on her?” Leila asks slyly. “And, thanks, I’m gonna need all the luck I can get. I’m so nervous.”

Damon parked the car and turned to her. He ticked her chin up with his forefinger and smiled.

“You are the result of two of the most legendary supernaturals in the continental US. You know your bloodlines on both sides and how powerful they are, you know who you are, you know what you want and you know how you’re gonna get it, and whenever your footing isn’t sure me and mom are gonna be right there for you, and we’ll help you the best way that we can … and we’re gonna be cheering for you, always.”

Leila nods, eyes smarting with happy tears.

“We’ll, I’m already the luckiest girl in the world,” she says smiling at her father, “the rest is a bonus, right?”

The porch light turns on, and Bonnie opens the double doors to wave them in. Damon’s dead heart lurches forward to close the distance between them, and he knows, without any doubt that whatever else comes out of their love, will only be more light.

“Exactly right,” he says, grinning. “Let’s go pick that dress.”

[bamonstrash]

I loved this, like really loved it.

Bonnie playing with Damon's hair and he all sleepy 😊

this really took a while because… i was going to stop at the first half but i wanted to consider Bonnie’s perspective (: and then it got a lil spicy and i was like *sigh* why must you always take it there? but i mean- 👁- i always take it there because we were robbed!!! Damon is practically a self proclaimed sex god and i hate how they separated Bonnie from her sexuality, or really any form of intimacy for sooo long. and the scraps we got were NEVER enough. okay anyways yeah i’m finally done, like let’s get into it.

Damon notices that Bonnie touches him sparingly and really not because she wants to but because it happens accidentally every now and then, one of the perks about frequently invading her space.

Being stuck on the other side, there is less room for her and more for him, she’s in his world now which means it’s his duty to make her feel as uncomfortably comfortable as possible.

He notices everything; how her cheeks turn red when their knuckles brush against one another’s, how she takes in an exasperated little breath when their shoulders touch, how she rolls her eyes when he stands entirely too close. Damon hangs on to these moments because this may be his only form of female contact he’ll receive for a very, very, long time.

That is the only reason he hangs on.

Anytime she touches him intentionally, he feels a pride swell deep in his chest that he’s liked by Bonnie after a rocky road of ups and downs, fussing and fighting, he is finally deemed worthy enough for her to care about him even if it’s brief, even if it’s the smallest skin to skin contact imaginable.

And yes, he cares because if he has to spend the rest of eternity with one person, they might as well get along.

Movie night comes around so he rests his head in her lap, testing the waters, to see how she will respond to him. He senses her tense up a bit as predicted, but then she relaxes into it breath by breath like she’s doing a tricky yoga pose.

Bonnie’s body lotion makes her skin smell edible- cocoa and honey- she’ll never know but that’s why he nicknames her Bon Bon, she always smells good enough to eat. At this point, Damon can’t recall the VHS movie on the block of a television, his focus has been robbed by Bonnie and this new form of contact she allows him to try. Half of his smile sinks into the cotton of her leggings.

Her eyes never leave the screen when she laces her fingers through his hair, nails surfing through tufts of raven-black and the gesture is so shocking and embarrassingly arousing that a strangled groan gets trapped in his throat.

She panics, and he can tell by the change in her heart rate before saying. “Did I hurt you?” He has to clear his throat to speak.

“Hmmm mm, feels good,” he mumbles feigning casual so she can’t realize how he needs this so so bad that he’s fearful of it being taken away. In his mind he thinks about what if.

What if she wakes up and decides she doesn’t want to tap dance on the line between what is and isn’t acceptable for two best friends. What if she remembers that he’s actually a terrible person who has done horrendous things to her and everyone she’s ever loved.

She shouldn’t like him or try not to laugh at his jokes. Not at all. Bonnie should’ve killed him a long, long time ago because if anyone could do it, it’d be her. He can see her now, all badass and angry with a wooden stake in her hand, vengeance in her eyes, the very last thing he’d see before his lights went out forever.

Bonnie, the giver and the taker.

Bonnie, the only god he knew.

Damon finds himself thinking so intensely lately that he checks the mirror more often than not to make sure he has no brooding lines like his little brother. Stefan’s expansive forehead has the room for it, his perfectly shaped forehead does not.

She laces her fingers back through his hair again and his eyes flutter, that’s how good it feels. It’s sensational. And while he’s had his hair pulled in and out of the bedroom, the innocence of her touch makes him want to melt. He finds his lids growing heavier, like how they used to do a century-and-a-half ago when he was human.

Running through dandelion fields in the overbearing Virginia heat, the sun up above sending heavy gusts of sunshine beams, a moment he considers to be oppressive now, used to be magical then- miraculous -and despite sweating through his britches and overcoat he never cared enough to stop running through the fields. The sun was the greatest thing all those years ago, back when white was his favorite color.

And after drawing a long, hot bath, he’d sink deep into the water while the bubbles floated to the top. Damon would close his eyes, hold his breath, see if he could break his prior record. Then he’d get out and the sleep would welcome him like any drowsy being, with open arms. And there he’d fall.

Bonnie has that affect on him. She makes him think of home, his past, when times were simpler and he was human.

He feels that exhausted sometimes, a boy who’s never stopped running through dandelion fields, whether it snows or rains or burns him alive. Her fingernails rake through his scalp- orange leaves on browning grass. Ruining Stefan’s piles for the fun of it. His lids droop. Tired of being consumed by himself, by Bonnie, he admits defeat this time. When he finally drifts off, he remembers that the Virginia heat gave him this same warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

“You really don’t know how good this feels,” his final words are hoarse before he drifts off but the last thing he sees is Bonnie.

The giver and the taker, the only god he knows.

.

Bonnie refuses to relish in the magic of the moment, the fact that it’s so rare Damon ever completely lets his guard down around her. She can always feel his eyes on her, constantly watching because Damon has a presence that’s inescapable.

Being so close to him when he’s extremely vulnerable makes her realize that in all facets, he’s stunning. A stunning that’s almost suffocating but with the dynamic they possess, he only needs to know that he’s not that much of an eye sore.

Now, she stares with wide eyes while she can, memorizes the smooth expanse of skin, every strand of dark hair. Relishes in the feel of his arms around her waist, the weight of his head in her lap. It’s been a long time since she’s felt a body besides her own and as much as she likes to ignore the fact, she has needs, needs that have swelled from being in the presence of Damon for too long.

He’s sexy without any effort, she examines. His dark t-shirt has risen and his pants are low enough that she observes the waistline of (silk?) boxers, taut muscle, navel, happy trail, yeah. Bonnie drinks him in like a cool glass of milk before bedtime- never has this much pretty been in her lap before. Her hands find their way in his head again, tousles through and he nuzzles up against her in his sleep. It’s difficult to pull her eyes away from him, but when she does, the credits are rolling on the screen.

This is Damon she’s thinking about like this, her best friend and also her first best friend’s boyfriend. She repeats it again, not satisfied that the guilt isn’t drowning her like it sometimes does when she catches herself lingering on his attractiveness for too long but Mystic Falls, the real Mystic Falls seems so far away. Elena, Caroline, Matt, Alaric, her old life just seems unattainable, no bigger than a memory she occasionally mistakes for a bad dream.

There’s no denying that being away from it all, here with Damon as the only other person in the world, she feels…safe. Maybe even protected, it’s a stark contrast from the real Mystic Falls where her life is always on the line.

Bonnie starts to get up when she feels his hold on her tighten to prevent her from moving away. They play tug of war for a bit but she eventually stops fighting because Damon is a vampire after all, physical strength is going to get her nowhere. “Fine,” she grumbles, then plops down which causes the end of her top to ride up enough that she can feel the press of Damon’s nose on the curve of her waist. Despite trying to inch her shirt back down, she has no luck. Naturally Damon doesn’t mind.

He inhales her skin deeply, makes a sound of approval before groggily muttering, “Going topless now, are we Judgey?”

She grabs his hair again, yanks his head back as a rebuttal, and Damon bites his tongue so hard that it bleeds. He has to ensure that all of the blood in his body isn’t rushing south too fast but unfortunately, he would have to sever both his arms completely off to stop the blood flow.

Bonnie realizes the dazed look in his eyes isn’t one of pain nor is it from sleep, “Not the reaction you expected, huh?” He asks, gesturing for her to look down but she doesn’t, she can’t. She’s embarrassed, and to make matters worse, a teensy bit turned on.

“You scared, Bon Bon? I thought you were big and bad,” Damon mocks, pulling between his legs to make more room in his jeans, “it’s okay. I know Jeremy left much to be desired.” He sits up with swirls of longing still in his eyes, then grabs a pillow to place in his lap.

“Scared?” She guffaws. “Of what exactly?”

“Me…You.”

“And that means?”

“You’re a smart girl, Bon, figure it out.” Damon taunts, holding her eyes with his. “It’s awfully lonely here.”

She says nothing for a while, refusing to break eye contact first. “So.”

“Soooo, I won’t tell if you won’t.” It’s almost a joke, almost because she has a feeling if she says yes to whatever sort of ambiguous proposal he’s thrown up in the air, there won’t be any laughter. If she says no, it’s no different from his usual innuendos but boy, will she wonder.

“Wanna take a walk on the wild side?” He asks in a singsong tone, eyes dropping to her lips then back up to her eyes.

There are no alarms, no cell phones, no one here that can interrupt this moment. She has to answer, though she has no idea what will come out of her mouth. Bonnie shuts her eyes to make the moment less real, as if it will change the fact that she whispers, “Just one kiss,”

They’re nose to nose when Damon whispers back, “a peck.”

She swallows his breath. “Mhmm,”

“It’s nothing,”

“Nothing.”

“As light as air,” he presses his lips to hers for a brief moment then pulls back again. “See.” He peppers more kisses on her lips, down her jaw, the side of her neck, but they’re heavier. They have a density now. His tongue is on the flesh of her shoulder, teasing up her neck. She feels the light imprint of sharp canines, arousal surges through her like a power circuit, so intense that she moans. When he makes his way back up, their mouths both open in a feral kiss that robs them of air.

Bonnie holds his face in place though he makes no attempt to move away. The pillow falls out from between them when he grabs Bonnie’s leg to straddle him.

It’s nothing.

Nothing separating them from attacking each other’s mouths, nothing stopping Damon from gripping his best friend’s hips, nothing saving Bonnie from discarding his shirt.

His skin is cool enough that she can stream together some thought in between relentless kisses. “Damon,” she tries her best to sound admonishing.

“Please, not right now.” Damon cuffs both her wrists behind her with one hand and plants a hickey just above her cleavage. She sees stars. He already knows what the inflection in her voice means- the timing couldn’t be worse.“Let’s save the guilt for tomorrow morning.” His tone is octaves lower, almost as low as his lids. He drags his eyes up to hers, and they’re so shiny she can see her reflection. “I need this, Bonnie. Don’t you?”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just continues on with his ministrations, hypnotized by the pheromones seeping off of her in waves, wanting to memorize the scent with his tongue. She whines his name, like actually whines his name, and the feeling that sits in the pit of his stomach scares him. Bonnie is so oblivious to the appeal she carries but if she sat in his skin for a day, hell, for a moment, she would realize just how long she’s been driving him insane.

“We can’t,” she groans weakly. “We can’t.”

Damon tries to breathe easier, but that feeling is lurking in his gut. She’s right. The things he’d do to her, he’d break her in half. He removes Bonnie from his lap, separates from her warmth, her scent. Backs away until the tv threatens to fall off the stand. Everything in him tells him to go back, to reenter the magnetic pull, to poke at her forcefield.

He backs away even further if possible. Her breath catches at the distance.

Bonnie’s cheeks are flushed, warm and red like fruit. If she was an apple, she would have already been eaten down to the core. If she was a peach, it would be easier to explain why he ate her. He thinks to himself that he’s officially off the rails, comparing Bonnie to fruit like he is, but he’s trying to rationalize his irrationality. Because if Bonnie never stopped him, he’d definitely be eating something by now.

“Nothing happened.” She says, ignoring his expression and the silent plea in his eyes.

“Nothing.” He deadpans, throwing his shirt back over his head.

Damon thinks of how different things would be if he had his way. Bonnie, spent, drunk, high off of him. Bleeding and wild, pretty and dangerous, yelling for God. He would plunge Jeremy right out of her, help her find her magic again. Give her everything she could dream of. He gulps.

She doesn’t sleep with him tonight, not in the same bed. She’s on the opposite end of the boarding house when he hears her slide under the covers.

The next morning, he thinks to himself, if she even utters a word about last night, he’ll pick up from where he left off. But she doesn’t, her eyes are far away again, and the only proof he has of their adventures is the wonderful, purple hickey.

When movie night comes back around, his head is in her lap and her hand is back in his hair, running to and fro like him in his lavender fields.

That’s all he gets.

Every now and then, it’s enough.

Bonnie gives and takes, then takes away some more.

She’s the closest thing to God he’ll probably ever know.

[bamonstrash]

This was so adorable omg!!!

Plzz write Bamon + their baby :)

i’ve never written about this!!! ty for the prompt this was so fun to think about (: <33 ask + u shall receive!!

….

Sometimes, Damon can’t believe it.

Life is a very funny thing, both haha funny and strange funny, and it’s moments like these where he sits and reflects on the doors that he’s opened, the doors he’s closed, the ones where he’s stayed a while, kicked off his shoes, grabbed some wine, and never ever left.

Bonnie is meeting him for movies and popcorn, their typical Sunday routine, only this is no ordinary Sunday because Friday, he broke up with Elena. Bonnie is supposedly emotional support though he keeps it to himself that he doesn’t need it. He will milk every ounce of affection he can out of his bestie if it means she’ll stay a while longer.

Just like that, everything that he fought hard for he decides to let go because despite the incredible sex and history Elena and Damon have… things still aren’t…right. With every obstacle out of the way, the house quieter, just the two in each other’s presence, it is loud that they will probably never mesh well.

Plus, even a few years after Stefan’s death, Damon notices the room in her heart for him shrinks in size and maybe it’s the fact that the only common ground they have now is Bonnie Bennett- everyone else is either dead or annoying enough that Damon refuses to discuss them, (Caroline, Matt, Jeremy,) they can’t talk about Stefan since his absence still hurts too much. And while Elena is a tad exhausted by only chatting about “his little witch,” Damon can go on and on for days.

Like word vomit, he’s all Bonnie this and Bonnie that in discussions to the point where he’s inwardly cringing at himself but he just can’t stop.

“You know she was my best friend first,” Elena says to him one day after he fusses about Bonnie not answering her phone within the first three rings. There’s a strange look in her expression that perturbs Damon- of course he knows that. Of course.

“Yeah, yeah, but I could’ve been dying over here. I could’ve already been dead. You know she doesn’t have anything to live for if I’m not around,” he jokes snidely.

Elena is folding clothes in the laundry room, she doesn’t laugh or look at him, just continues bending dried garments into a convenient, placeable stack.

Tough crowd.

….

“You ever thought about… I don’t know…? Dating?” Alaric says this, a glass of golden whiskey to his mouth before he knocks it back down his throat and the only thing that’s left is the large, sparkling ice cube. When he slaps the glass down, the ice klinks characteristically. It’s been perhaps a month or two since Damon and Elena’s split.

“Me and Judgey? Are you insane? That’s my-“

“Best friend. Yeah. Everyone’s aware.”

Damon’s brows knot up in confusion, and his eyes hold an expression of disbelief.

“It’s Bonnie,” He says, blue eyes twinkling with an almost believable mirth like he thinks it’s a joke that Alaric would even ask.

“It is.” He confirms.

A minute passes of Damon rubbing the back of his neck, Ric staring aimlessly at his empty glass before he speaks up again.

“So you haven’t… you know…”

“What?” Damon makes a hand gesture of the obviously forbidden word before shaking his head vehemently. “Of course not.”

“Oh, I know that. I was going to ask if you’ve ever…thought about it?”

Bonnie? With her legs wrapped around his waist as he makes every inch of his dick disappear into her hot and gushy anatomy? So deep inside her that their hips touch?

He clears his throat.

“Of course not.” Damon repeats.

….

It’s a momentary lapse of judgement-the kiss- and when she doesn’t reciprocate or move at all, really, the awkwardness is a brick that sinks in the bottom of his stomach.

Leaf green eyes and a beating heart too panicky to be calm but she just brushes it all away like eraser marks on a timed essay.

Damon never imagines rejection to be so simple that he can just pretend that it never happened. He takes the exit and sits back in friend zone where he’s always belonged.

Things are kinda sorta normal for a week.

….

“Truth or dare?” Bonnie suggests that they play it and on queue, Damon throws out sexual innuendo in an insert-line-here-fashion. She cringes, rolls her eyes, tries not to laugh.

Normal.

But then she dares him to kiss her again and things are so far from normal that somehow they end up in bed together, completely naked, and completely wild.

And God, Bonnie begs, pleads, when she’s under Damon but when she gets on top, it’s him that’s asking for permission.

“Fuck, Bon,” he mumbles before leaving a long stream of cursive inside of her.

Their eyes are crystallized, perhaps it’s the moonlight.

….

He shouldn’t feel this betrayed when he hears it, the second heartbeat, but something inside of him snaps.

“Found another best friend?” Damon asks, they haven’t had sex since that wonderful, miraculous night a little over one month ago but the sexual tension between them is as taut as a rubber-band.

She laughs, not noticing the pain in his tone. “With what time?”

It’s a solid question. He’s had Bonnie to himself practically every evening, her stuff is vicariously thrown around the house; she’s in all the rooms at once.

But there’s undeniably an extra heartbeat, he hears it with each pause, each breath she takes, the incessant thump.

“Um,” Damon’s tumbler slips out of his grasp and crashes to the floor.

Bonnie backs away from the mess.

“Um?”

….

Pregnant Bonnie is his favorite Bonnie, from her cravings, to her glow, to her new abundance of cleavage. The two of them can’t stop thinking how this could be, how their lives keep getting stranger and stranger, how nature keeps being redefined, and the rules keep bending and breaking.

Her new favorite things are chocolate chip cookies with salty chips baked in, chocolate-and honey-covered strawberries, spicy sausages, pickle juice.

His hands find their new home in rubbing Bon’s baby bump until she drifts off into a nap.

When her breathing gets heavier indicating she’s in a deep sleep he says into her hair, “You should marry me.”

And he means it.

….

Luna Bennett-Salvatore arrives with soft brown skin and Heterochromia iridum: one ice blue eye and one leaf green one.

Damon nicknames her Bam since Bonnie decides to scrap his name suggestion altogether.

“Bamon! It’s our names combined,”

“No.”

“But what if-“

“No.”

And Luna aka Bam grows very fast. She smiles a lot. Babbles a lot. To Bonnie’s dismay, she says “dada” first.

“Look at Daddy’s Girl,” he says, holding his princess high in the air. “You know what, Bam, I better not say that too loud. Mommy was Daddy’s Girl before you.”

“Oh my God,” Bonnie mumbles, hiding her smile.

She likes to fall asleep with her little arms hugging Bonnie’s neck, the side of her face pressed against hers.

“Don’t be jealous,” Bonnie says when Damon crosses his arms.

“Jealous?” He tsks. “I can do that too,” He bundles Bonnie and Luna up in his arms. “you should marry me,” he says into her hair.

And he means it.

[bamonstrash]

[…]

“I won’t skip movie night again,” she mutters, feeling a bit guilty. “I promise.” After all, all her life she’s been set aside and taken for granted – reliable Bonnie would always come to the rescue and offer her shoulder to cry on and her life to step over – and she doesn’t want Damon to feel that way, not because of her.

“Oh, you better. Otherwise I’ll replace you with Stefan,” he threatens weakly. “He’s not half as pretty, and he doesn’t smell so good, but other than that he’s just boring to spend time with,” and she giggles, hiding her face against his side.

“Now, to start gaining my forgiveness you could buy me breakfast and tell me how amazing I am,” he suggests, looking at her amused face, at her big smile and the way her messy hair falls over her eyes making her look innocent and beautiful.

“I’ll buy you a coffee and admit you’re passable.” She rolls onto her back. Detaching herself from him makes her shiver from cold but she ignores it, ripping herself off the bed to walk to her closet.

“Mmm,” he says with a shrug, looking at her with the strange intensity he only reserves for his prey. “Baby steps.”

[…]

[bamonstrash]

I am so sorry you had to go through that, those people are horrible and it breaks my heart that you have to continue to work amongst blatant racists and racist conversations that have no business being held in the work place. Perhaps next time it happens check any laws about recording public conversations and if so record them and then take everything to HR and see what they can do. I hope for you that you’re protected and thrive through all the bullshit. Stay safe ❤️

I have a story to tell, last year around September there was a survey that came out at work about the Covid-19 Vaccine, they wanted to know if we wanted take it if it were made available. To take the survey you have to enter your employee ID. I jump at the chance to take the survey and take the vaccine because (My youngest has asthma and since I am a healthcare worker I am exposed to this virus every day and I don’t want to bring it home to my family). So I took the survey and as soon as I put in my ID at the end it automatically checked no, when I specifically said yes in the beginning. So I informed my manager, she told me that I needed to email another person about it, in the meantime she will put my name on the list. In January we received the first batch of Vaccine only a two in my department got called, we were told that we will have to wait for the next batch to come in.

This month the rest of my coworkers got called in to go take the first dose of the vaccine, even my white coworkers whom stated that they did not want to take it. She even offered to give me her place instead and they said no. Mind you I am the only black person in that department. On the day they were called I got to work and they asked me if I received a call, I said no cause I didn’t. One of them said “well they tried calling my phone but could not reach me so they called here at work. I asked them if your name was on the list she said no” So I called my boss and asked her what was going on? she said that she was sending emails and didn’t know what happened but to wait for a phone call. Two days later they called other people in other departments and I never got a call. So I wrote my boss an email asking her why is it that I am the only one in the department that has never received a call to go take the vaccine?and that I felt like it was discriminatory and unfair that the minority in the group was being refused the used of the vaccine. Mind you, my coworkers all of them except for that one girl who offered me her place, have made racist comments and have very aggressive political views that they like to share out loud specially when I am around. (They are all Trump supporters and when the whole debacle of an election was going on for months I had to sit there and listen in silence to their racist views specially when the George Flyod murder happened). I usually have had to email her and wait for like days until she finally answers, that day I sent the email, I got a call in like two seconds, I am not kidding you. I didn’t answer, it was my day off, I was spending time with my family and didn’t want to get into it. She left a message asking me to come in right away so we can talk, I didn’t go. The day that I went back to work I didn’t even get a chance to put down my purse she came and got me. I go into her office and this bitch proceeded to cry, y’all tears were coming out. And I am sitting there looking at her like what the fuck is going on? She said her words not mine “I wish that you had come to me sooner to talk about this, because I want you to know that we are not like this here l, we value and respect all of our employees and for you to have felt like that just really breaks my heart we are not like this. This place is a safe place for all employees” I said ‘I don’t understand how that would break your heart, because I was the one who had to be subjected to this racism that my coworkers and even you on occasions have demonstrated. And if you had any ounce of respect for me instead of crying about me hurting “your” feelings, you should have been asking me about how I am feeling. Because I have wanted so many times to say something, but last time I said something because Pat was being offensive and degrading to one of the cleaning ladies. You called me into the office and asked me to apologize to her for hurting her feelings to which I told you that, I will not apologize because I was speaking out for someone whom didn’t feel like they could talk back and that Pat was being a massive cunt for treating her that way. You proceeded to tell me that you were going to write me up. The only reason why you didn’t is because I told you that I would go to HR if you did. And I feel like you not putting my name on the list is your way of getting back at me for that.’ And the waterworks became waterfalls. So I spent an hour in her office listening to her talk about how her daughter is married to a black man, and that her son is gay and that she could never be a racist person. Her daughter she hasn’t talked to in years since she married said black man, and she kicked her son out the house once she found out that he was gay, I know cause I am friends with the son. Nothing was resolved. I still didn’t get the called and I don’t even know if my name is on the list or not. I gave up, I am going to try to take it outside of work. But I know that she is going to try really hard to get me fired at this point.

[bamonstrash]

I would also like to know 👀

I’m curious to know how many of us are left out there.

[bamonstrash]

“Book Bonnie is described with adjectives of innocence—she is naive, trusting, and femininely petite. Because of her innocence, she is a foil and eventual love interest for the antihero of the series, Damon Salvatore, who is torn between her and his brother’s girlfriend, Elena.”

Ebony Elizabeth Thomas, The Dark Fantastic

Dammit I don’t like Damon at all, but if the delena/stelena drama and Caroline and Tyler’s relationship can carry over from the books why didn’t this? It is just so glaringly obvious Julie Plec didn’t see Bonnie as a serious romantic prospect the way Elena and Caroline were. She got cheated on with a ghost for goodness sake.

[bamonstrash]

[bamonstrash]

Does anyone remember that Bamon affair book where I think Damon finds out Elena is cheating on him with maybe Bonnie's husband who I think is Klaus or something like that and he decides to get revenge and involves bonnie in on the scheme? I can't remember the name or who it was by.

[bamonstrash]

that season 6 episode where Damon and Stefan realize that not all love has to be toxic or obsessive like they had with Katherine and Elena, followed by parallel scenes where Damon reunited with Bonnie, who came back and made his stupid vampcakes, and Stefan goes to find Caroline at her house after her moms funeral….. a moment of Belvafore supremacy truly

[bamonstrash]

tvd au elena takes stefans place in killing katherine so its just caroline bonnie stefan and damon, damon goes with Bonnie to travel and starts to realize sumn