Extended Summary: I have to warn you: not much plot here. Bonnie and Damon have been together for a few months, which doesn't mean they get along any better. After yet another fight, Bonnie works a little magic to make up with the vampire. One day when he's out having guys time with Stefan and Alaric, she comes across a very handy spell to earn forgiveness. Inspired by Kat Graham's Put Your Graffiti On Me and Beyoncé's Dance for You. Rated M for a reason.

« You don't need to drum my heart, you already own it. »

Kat Graham

Bonnie was pacing back and forth in her house. In moments like this, she always came to question her decision to engage in a relationship with Damon Salvatore, of all people. Fangs and immortality aside, there were good reasons why she had spent so much time hating him with a passion. He was everything she was not, and could never be. His spontaneity, his cockiness, his carelessness – they unnerved her. The best word to describe Damon was unpredictable, and Bonnie craved nothing more than stability.

However, after everything they went through, she slowly came to realise that everything she despised about him was all the more reason to seek his company. If anyone could make her loosen up and open her horizons, it would be him.

She was properly astounded to find that he returned her blossoming feelings. Given his history with women, she never thought he would give her any attention. She was not a Petrova after all; she wasn't an Original vampire. She was just Bonnie, the town's resident witch, with her morals and her principles. The truth is, Damon longed for a little stability as much as she longed for some adventure. And so they met halfway in an awkward first kiss that gave way to many, many more.

It was no picnic being Damon Salvatore's girlfriend. The use of that term alone caused a few spats between the lovers. They were much like fire and ice, really – except that they took turns assuming one role or the other. Her morals irritated him, his impulsivity made her want to throttle him. His apparent indifference hurt her feelings, her constant need for affection made him feel trapped. The adjustments their relationship required were an everyday enterprise once the honeymoon effect had subsided.

They worked through it though, one step at a time. Their precarious balance slowly emerged from the arguments and the days of silence, and Bonnie was quite satisfied to say that she managed to drag the one and only Damon Salvatore into an actual relationship. He was hers, just as much as she was his. They had no fairy tale, but they had something real and tangible.

However, they couldn't help falling into this pattern of arguments. It was about her magic, again. Damon did not in the least approve of her using her power to light up candles for their scarce romantic dinners; he severely disapproved when she practised her spells on him, and even more when she channelled his energy. But this time, it was different.

Bonnie's insecurity had driven her to shamelessly violate his privacy. After one of many disagreements about Damon's attitude towards Elena, she had decided to browse through his thoughts, to determine whether he still had feelings for her friend. He had found out when she had used one of the information gathered against him. She didn't know what the worst was: that she had found nothing incriminating about Damon and Elena, or that he cared more about her using magic than being insecure. Either way, it had been two days since he stormed out of the house, withdrawing to the Salvatore mansion when he had practically moved in with her.

Being alone for two days wasn't exactly the worst experience Bonnie had ever gone through, but she feared his absence might be permanent this time. She had crossed a line, and she had no idea of how to make it up to him. The possibility of losing Damon filled her with such sadness that she spent all day held up in her living room, trying to phrase the perfect apology. She was wrong, although she found herself utterly unable to admit it to him. Her text messages and voicemails had been left unanswered, so she was trying to find a way to get to him.

As she absent-mindedly flipped through the pages of her grimoire, Bonnie's eyes fell onto a spell that could prove terribly useful in her situation. How to install a telepathic connection between two minds, even from a distance. She immediately knew this was it: her opportunity to make it up to Damon. Magic was the cause of their argument, it made sense (at least to her) that it should be the solution to it. She had browsed through his thoughts, and now she was willing to let him browse through hers.

She hurried in gathering everything she needed for the spell, and sat down on the rug in her bedroom. Of course, Damon would be pissed at first, but she intended to show him some thoughts that he couldn't resist.

Damon was sitting at the Grill, cosily sipping a glass of Bourbon in good company. He was trying his very best not to complain his relationship issues, out of respect for Alaric and Stefan, who were both single. Alaric's romance with Meredith abruptly stopped after his maniacal alter ego tried to kill her, and as for Stefan, well, he also came to the conclusion that Elena, although she seemed perfect wouldn't – rather, couldn't – spend the rest of her life loving a vampire when she longed for all the perks of being human.

"She did what?" Alaric laughed. "Jealousy drives girls insane."

Damon rolled his eyes – Alaric had always loved it when Bonnie put Damon through a rough patch. Said he needed a taste of his own medicine.

"It's not so much about the jealousy," Damon argued. "It's about the magic. I don't like it."

"Yeah, well," Stefan dropped in. "Maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating a witch."

He disliked her magic because whenever things got too hard, Bonnie didn't look for a way out: she simply said a spell. It could be lighting candles on a birthday cake, getting ready when she was late to a party or, you know, invading his private thoughts to find out whether he was still in love with the girl-that-was-never-his-to-begin-with.

"All I'm saying is, she's got some nerve," Damon said, catching up with the conversation. "How is it fair that she uses her juju on me and I can't bite her?"

Stefan's response was kind of lost to Damon. He suddenly felt like he couldn't keep up with the conversation anymore. A shiver ran down his spine and his eyes fluttered as the room blurred around him. Alaric and Stefan's voices gradually faded out, leaving nothing but silence. He reopened his eyes cautiously, unsure of what was happening to him. Surely he couldn't have already drunk that much?

The setting was still the same, and although he could see his companions chatting away happily, he couldn't hear any of the words coming out of their mouths. He tentatively knocked his glass onto the table, and heard nothing. His undead heart nearly jumped out of his chest at this impromptu incapacitation.

His eyes widened when he picked up the sound of heavy breathing. He immediately identified it as Bonnie's. He had heard those ragged exhales more times than he could remember. More precisely, he had caused them. He wondered where the Hell that came from, and his curiosity only grew more insistent when a second voice mixed with Bonnie's. His own.

"Damon, don't stop." She was panting, whimpering, moaning. Moments later, it was his turn to gasp, groan, and whisper to her. "Can you feel just how much I want you?" he growled. His rhetorical question was answered by a sigh.

He winced at the words they were exchanging, praying that it would just stop. His self-control was severely put to trial by this unexpected fantasy. He wondered why he was thinking about sex right now. Of course, there was nothing better than makeup sex, but this was different. It wasn't about being late on a date or just about jealousy. He was really mad at her and her magic was really getting in the way of their happiness.

Her breathing got even more uneven, and he knew she was about to go over the edge. A wave of confused words passed her lips. "Yes, let go, let go," he encouraged. "Oh my God, Damon," she whispered through her teeth.

Immediately, his perceptions were back to normal. He couldn't help himself, he called her name out loud, scanning through the crowd to find her. However, he saw only the same patrons as moments before, and drowned in shame at the look Alaric was giving him. Stefan was more compassionate, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Damon, she's not here," he pointed out. "I know you're whipped, but the whole point of this was to have a moment to yourself."

Blue eyes met green ones and Damon smiled. His relationship with his brother had returned to its former glory after both Salvatores accepted the idea that Elena Gilbert would only cause them hurt and pain. Damon had initiated the change when he slept with Rebekah – it had reminded him how good it felt to just indulge in the pleasures of the flesh, without considering the repercussions on Little Miss Sunshine.

Then, when the Originals died at Bonnie's hands, something happened. Something unexpected – the love/hate relationship they had suddenly assumed the shape of nights out together. The snarky comments came along with slight touches, and one day, Bonnie kissed him. Supposedly to silence him because she couldn't suffer the sound of his voice anymore, but still, she locked her lips to him until he hungrily kissed her back.

This made no sense at all, and maybe that was why Damon jumped into it head first. After 147 years spent loving two women who shared the same traits and had broken his heart, he finally felt free to deny himself nothing at all. So yeah, he decided to give Bonnie a chance. And he didn't regret it – most of the time.

"I just –" Damon started, but stopped himself. "Never mind. Can we talk about something else? Like your total absence of sentimental life, both of you?"

Alaric rolled his eyes and gestured for the waitress to bring refills.

"Some of us can actually live without being in a relationship, Damon," he snapped.

Stefan laughed softly, before arguing that he wouldn't be ready to commit to a woman anytime soon. Of course, there was still his friendship with Caroline, but he wasn't seriously considering taking things a step further. Damon thought he was going to die when he heard the words "we kissed twice".

"You've been kissing Blondie?" Damon choked, watching his brother's face break into a sheepish grin. "How did I not know about this?"

Damon didn't heard Stefan's answer but was once again focused on something else. He had images in his head, popping out of nowhere.

Bonnie's eyes closing a second before he kissed her. Their fingers intertwined on top of her head. Her hands roaming down his chest.

"Damon?" Stefan asked. "What do you think?"

The blue-eyed vampire blinked. What did he think? He thought he was going to lose his mind if he didn't get a hold of himself.

"About you and Caroline?" he said, assuming the conversation was still revolving around his brother's latest indiscretions. "She always had a thing for you, so, go for it. I mean, if Bonnie and I can make it work, anyone can, I guess."

"So much for the brotherly advice," Alaric mocked.

"She's Blondie," Damon reminded. "She annoys me more than words can say."

Stefan shot him a nasty look.

"In a lovely way," Damon corrected. "Besides, she's always hanging out with Bonnie, so I'm used to her by now."

The conversation went on quietly. Gradually, Damon's sight started to blur. He lowered his eyes onto his glass but couldn't see it anymore. Instead, completely different visions offered themselves to him.

Bonnie's back hitting against the wall. His hands caressing her stomach. Her nails scratching his back. His own face contorted with pleasure. Their legs tangled on a bed.

It stopped just abruptly as it had started, and suddenly everything was back to normal. He brought his drink to his lips, swallowing a long sip of Bourbon that burned down his dried throat. Yes, he was a man and men had needs, but this was something else entirely. It was the first time that he'd experienced such vivid fantasies and he found himself yearning to touch her, to feel every curse of her body. He did his best to carry on with the conversation as Alaric and Stefan did their best to entertain him, in a pointless effort to take his mind off her.

At this point, he almost felt compelled to grab his phone and text Bonnie.

Thinking about you, he typed, careful to leave it at that. His anger had not yet calmed down. I bet they're naughty thoughts, she answered. The vampire growled low in his throat. This had to be magic. Telepathy, or something.

He felt angry at Bonnie for using her magic on him, yet again. This was precisely the reason why they had started fighting in the first place, and although it wasn't an entirely displeasing experience, he really didn't like her browsing through his thoughts. Told you to stop fucking with my head, Witch. He typed angrily – he knew those sounds and images were too vivid to be just his imagination. I haven't even started, she answered.

Immediately, she sent another wave of thoughts his way. Sound and image, this time.

Damon stormed into the house, shutting the door with an impatient kick of his foot. He marched straight to Bonnie, who was innocently watching TV. He grabbed her, bringing her up from her seating position and threw her up against the wall. He wanted to have her. He wanted to have her right then and there, and he didn't want to be gentle about it.

His hands moved along her body, searching for her most intimate places, caressing her with no gentleness, covering every inch of her body as he dropped rough kisses all over her.

Looking into these green eyes, he leant to ravage her mouth. She pressed her lips to his, kissing him back just as fiercely, gently pressing against him. He could tell that she loved his strong, masculine hands trailing along her shoulders, down over her chest, lingering just where she wanted them to.

She ran her nails down along his back, squeezing his waist with her legs. He hadn't stopped kissing her. When she gasped for hair, he gazed deeply into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he felt her soft lips moving along his jawline softly, contrasting with his own rough ministrations.

"I want you," she said. "Now."

As he kissed his way back up her neck, she grabbed his hair and pushed his lips against her pulse point. He groaned, struggling with the urge to sink his fangs into her. He could hear her blood rushing through her veins under the effect of excitement.

"Do it," she whispered in his ear.

Damon froze, searching for her eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining things. How many times had he wished for her to say the words? This was not just about feeding – actually, it had very little to do with it. This was about being close, sharing an intimacy that she'd never experienced before. If he wanted to bite her, it was because it would significantly enhance his pleasure and create a bond.

He nearly lost it at the sexiness radiating off of her. She had never seemed more beautiful than in this moment. She understood. Most humans would have simply got a tattoo with the loved one's name, but he was a vampire, and to him, biting her was to him the equivalent of getting his name tattooed on her skin. Putting his name on her, tagging her, making it physically tangible that she belonged to him. It was an act of love, not of feeding.

"Bite me, Damon," she said. "Make me yours."

Before she had time to change her mind, Damon let the vampire take over. He sucked on her flesh for a while, prepping her to endure the bittersweet pain that he was going to inflict on her. She moaned appreciatively, then gasped when his fangs broke her tender skin. She hissed a little, but quickly relaxed as he moaned against her skin. Her blood hit his tongue and his knees buckled under their bodies. It was heavenly.

Damon quickly blinked as the scene abruptly came to an end. He pulled out his phone. Stop it, Bonnie. She replied immediately. Didn't you like this one? He left her question unanswered. I have more. Ready? she said.

No, he was not. He barely had time to laugh miserably at one of Alaric's jokes before he immediately found himself transported into another one of her fantasies.

It wasn't his house. It wasn't hers either. A quick glance around let him know he was in a hotel room. The furniture was elegant, obviously made for couples. The room was dimly lit, and it only reinforced his impatience.

Bonnie was standing across the room. He gulped when he made out her clothing. He had dreamed about her in this outfit many, many times. She was wearing high heels and white stockings. Her pleated skirt stopped high above her knees, and she had tied an impeccable white shirt above her belly button. Her skin was the colour of caramel, her smile breathtaking and her body curved in all the right places. She had never ventured to this domain before; he never even knew that she could enjoy playing dress up. He, on the other hand, had countless similar experiences, and anticipation was making his blood boil.

The young woman stopped fingering her tie and winked to him. She undid the loose knot that held the piece of red silk. In the blink of an eye, she used it to bring Damon closer, throwing it around his neck. He smiled weakly. Was there ever a better way to end an argument? She mesmerized him. Right now, she was everything she would never be in real life – a deadly combination. She looked mischievous and spoke in a voice soft as silk. So much innocence transpired from her green eyes while her full lips were inviting him to all sorts of acts of indecency.

He realized he was dumbly staring at her when she cleared her throat. She smiled and briefly brushed her lips against Damon's cheek; then, she pushed him against the table. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked to the other end of the living-room to set up the music and bring on the subdued lighting.

Bonnie was really pulling out the stops. Damon couldn't identify the song, but the rhythm was slow, with a strong bass. He tried to focus on the words, wishing to pick up any hint as to what he should brace himself for, but his sensitive hearing only allowed him to listen to the frantic beating of her heart. She was nervous, but not only. He knew his Bonnie – her green eyes glistened with excitement: she was turned on. Damon exhaled loudly.

She started swaying her hips in sync with the music, and it seemed as natural as breathing for her. The enthralling sight left him speechless. To be honest, his eyes were quite blind to her true movements; he only perceived the weight of her body shifting from left to right, her slender legs opening slightly when it did.

Although he was still a little mad about their argument, he couldn't help feeling teased. He liked being the one in control in this relationship, even and mostly when it came to carnal pleasures, but this time, he had to let go. Bonnie was making it painfully easy: her provocative dancing had annihilated whichever desire he had to hold on to his anger, and filled him with radically different aspirations.

"I like it when you watch me," she whispered, knowing he would hear despite the music.

She could win this game with her eyes closed. She had him.

Damon swallowed. When she walked to him and started dancing against him, her long hair coming in contact with his skin occasionally, a fierce tension gripped his entire body. He imperceptibly quivered. He looked down to her when she hooked her arms around his neck, and his lips parted slightly in anticipation for a kiss that he was now craving. He knew she tasted like strawberry; the smell of her lipstick, added to that of her blood, was making him lightheaded. Damon's hands slid down to the small of Bonnie's back, pulling her flush against him. She blinked, but lost nothing of her allure.

"Why the outfit?" she asked lowly. "Why do you like schoolgirls so much?"

Damon gaped at her. Nobody had ever asked him the 'why' of his fantasies before. He hadn't given much thought to it either. But Bonnie knew him well enough, and so she lowered her voice further and shared her theory.

"It's because you love being in control," she whispered. "You love it when I give in to you. You love dominating me, because then, you can reassert your manhood and be the only one who makes me reach such heights, am I right?"

Clearly, she had been practicing her bedroom talk, and clearly, it was having the desired effect. He was imagining her every word becoming real: being in control of her, seeing her give in, bringing her to new heights… Damon groaned low in his throat, a sound nearly animalistic. He uncomfortably shifted his weight from one leg to the other, definitely feeling a bit tight in his jeans. He needed those to come off right this second, as well as every inch of fabric that was shielding Bonnie's skin from his eyes, hands and lips.

He had never craved a woman like he craved her. Even his chemistry with Katherine couldn't compare to the sparks that flew between Bonnie and him. Her touch, the seductive, darting tones of her voice – all she did lured him further into her web. He couldn't wait to taste her lips and revel in the fact that she was entirely his – hell, he needed to make her his. She definitely knew how to tease him, how to make him want her.

"Too many clothes on you," he voiced weakly. His fingers were playing with the top button of her shirt and Bonnie smiled genuinely. "Do something about it," she whispered in his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Having obtained her green light, Damon didn't bother with gentleness; he ripped her shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room. "Much better," he stated. The goddess standing in his arms laughed.

"Two can play that game, baby," she said.

Damon took a sharp intake of air. He was not one to usually go for nicknames, but whenever she called him 'baby', it was the assurance that he was in for a treat. It was the word she whispered to him alongside her I want yous, and when she was on the edge of absolute bliss. It was the quintessence of their heated kisses, passionate strokes and whispers of pleasure. Those four letters alone could have him on his knees. It was a close call when she ripped his black button down open.

He would have killed anybody else for ruining of his John Varvatos shirts, but not her. This new side of Bonnie was starting an inextinguishable fire in him. Acting on impulse and disregarding the rules of the game, he reached for more, endeavouring to pull down a strap of her bra, hoping she would give in and humour him, but much to Damon's annoyance, Bonnie stepped away from him, however pulling him with her by the collar of his shirt. She all but threw him on the couch, and straddled his waist, her legs spread on each side of his.

Her mini-skirt was riding up her thighs, exposing the creamy skin to his hands. Damon felt Bonnie shudder when his fingers stroked their way up her inner thighs and she involuntarily rolled her hips to grant him better access. The sound that escaped him made her breath hitch. Before he could register, she had kicked her skirt down, revealing a matching pair of black lace underwear. His very favourite.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he groaned, unable to say if it was from frustration or arousal. Arousal was more likely – she had him so turned on that he was now more than uncomfortable in his pants. The restrain was downright painful at this point, and he quickly managed to take them off. A sigh of ease slid off his lips when Bonnie straddled him again, the delightful contact of Bonnie's warm skin against his causing him to smile. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, leaving him completely bare underneath her.

"I'm trying to apologise for that fight," she whispered against his neck, her breath tickling his skin. Bonnie began sucking on his pulse point, while her nails grazed down his chest, just the way he liked it. Damn her for knowing him so well. "Apology accepted," he moaned. She giggled appreciatively. His hips buckled under hers, desperately seeking more friction. She gladly obliged and wasted no time in wrapping her hand around him.

"Oh, God," Damon breathed.

She looked in his eyes, a small smile on her lips. She gave him a few nice, slow strokes before going for the real thing and kissing her way down his chest. She was going to kill him, he thought.

With his eyes closed, Damon slammed his head against the wall and failed to muffle a moan. He was dying to scream at the top of his lungs. He felt like Bonnie was in his head – and she was, he reminded himself in the reality of the bar. She sensed exactly what he wanted, before he was even conscious that he wanted it. Devoting attention to his body seemed a new art form in which she excelled. She mastered the techniques, for sure, but it was more. This was more than sex – this was intimacy. He could feel her love, her desire to please and above all, that was what was making this one of the most mind-blowing encounters he had ever had.

He was seconds away from reaching his climax. Mere seconds. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, and the familiar heat was starting to infuse inside of him, making his toes curl. Bonnie was giving it to him so good; her mouth tightly wrapped around him, up and down, as her tongue swirled around him. Every now and then, she echoed his moans, sending vibrations similar to shockwaves through his body. This was more than he could take. One of his hands tangled in her hair, as the other gripped the couch.

"Bonnie," he called hoarsely. "Bonnie, baby, I need to –"

The end of his sentence was cut off with a whimper as she accelerated his ministrations. The release was close, he could feel it. His body started trembling and when Bonnie looked up to him, he …

Damon jumped when Alaric shook him by the shoulder. "What's going on with you?" his friend asked suspiciously. The blue-eyed vampire realized that he was holding on to his chair so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

Damon blinked, still lost in the telepathic private show that Bonnie was running for him. One thing was certain; this girl was tremendously good at apologies. He couldn't even remember why they had been fighting about. He closed his eyes, eager to return to the scenario and reach his virtual climax. But nothing happened. He pulled out his phone and texted Bonnie. Don't leave me like this.

Stefan was staring at him, completely baffled. Damon felt himself. Stefan's sensitive hearing had probably picked up on his panting breath, and noticed the slight dilation of his pupils, along the darkening of his irises. Busted.

"Yeah, Damon," Stefan taunted. "Are you feeling alright?"

Saved by the bell, Damon thought when his phone rang. He picked up hastily.

"You'll pay for that, witch," he growled at Bonnie.

She laughed.

"I'll be happy to," she purred. "You know where to find me."

Damon grabbed his jacket and dropped a $50 bill on the table, waving goodbye to Alaric and Stefan, mouthing the words "Girlfriend 911". The other two simply rolled their eyes and engaged in a conversation about the perks of being single.

The End

Please review. This isn't my usual comfort zone in writing, but I thought I'd give it a try. I'm a bit nervous ;)