Chains
Happy holidays @dappyhappy from @thefudge!
A/N: Post TVD-finale. Bonnie is traveling the world, but an impish shadow is traveling with her. AU smut.
The chains rattle in her ears. They feel close, slithering coldly against her spine. He’s scraping his nails against her back.
“Bon Bon…”
Bonnie wakes with a start.
The room is bled out of warmth. She’s left the window open. She can hear the waterfall coursing through the valley below. She drags her body from the bed and presses the glass shut. Outside, the scenery is beautiful and unremarkable. She’s still in Cape Verde, far away from Mystic Falls, away from prison worlds and vengeful spirits. It was only a nightmare.
The next night, the chains slither against her thighs, the coarse iron leaving little red arrows against her flesh. Her nightdress is askance.
“Wakey, wakey…”
Bonnie’s hand flaps weakly at the figure in her dream. He breathes hotly on the inside of her thigh. He draws a small heart on her skin.
She is locked in a terrified paralysis. Who else would draw a heart like that?
On the third night, she hears the thud of chains on the parquet, as if a weight has been released.
Truly, by now, she should have packed her bags. She should have at least tried to change rooms. But she has done none of the above. Part of her is expecting him, part of her wants to test her grasp on reality.
Because if he really has managed to escape, she’s the only one who can put him back.
So she lies on the bed with her eyes closed, waiting to see if he makes a move.
Minutes pass in remote silence, although there’s a rotten tension in the air, twisting her insides, making every breath crackle.
She runs a shaking hand over her chest and stomach, as if to check that he hasn’t stabbed her or done worse. Her fists clench the fabric of her nightdress.
His voice stops her dead in her tracks.
“That’s right, Bon… Take that off for me.”
It seems to have an echo from the beyond, as if it’s passing through a narrow tunnel. As if he’s traveling through multiple bodies. The voice of the young and the old, the child and the immortal.
At first, she does nothing. She waits. She keeps a tight grip on her nightdress. She can hear the waterfall outside, steady and vibrant: water creeping into underbrush, roots leaking, green buds soaking in midnight drops. It could get you to do dangerous things.
So in the end, she obeys him. She might be going insane with grief. She hopes that he has chased Enzo’s spirit away, so that he won’t see something so…unlike her.
Yet so much like the old Bonnie.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she drags the cotton slip up her thighs, letting it glide against her waist, revealing her bellybutton. She is shaking slightly. She still has her eyes closed. She can feel Kai’s presence, closer now, even more electrifying. There’s a second weight on the bed.
The nightdress is now almost riding up her breasts. It reveals the jagged end of the scar. The scar Kai gave her. The cruelest part of her body.
“Ah, just like old times,” he murmurs blissfully, and before she can make a sound, he bends down and presses his horrid lips to the scar, swallowing her heartbeat.
He is not one for subtlety. His tongue snakes out of his mouth, tracing the mottled skin, sucking and licking it hungrily, his teeth grazing one half of a breast.
Bonnie can’t help but arch into his mouth. She’d like to give him the other half.
“Mm, is that coconut oil you’ve been using?” he teases in his old-fashioned way.
She shakes her head, eyes still closed.
He obliges and takes a nipple in his mouth, sliding his tongue against it, rolling it between his lips until it is painfully taut.
His fingers prod against the softness of her belly, making her flinch. He’s trying to mock all her unborn children. He is unkind. His hand slides gracelessly between her legs. He has no patience. He doesn’t “make love” gently and with care. He’s already testing the slickness of her cunt, dragging one finger inside her.
Bonnie hates him abstractly, but she loves his bad manners, his knowledge of her edges. His disregard for her safety. Enzo always treated her like porcelain. Kai wriggles his finger inside her impishly, slamming the heel of his palm against her clit, making her keen in seconds as he bites into her breast, hacking at the flesh with his teeth. For him, she is clay.
She raises her hand but her fingers pass through him, through the body that should be there, almost on top of her, doing ungodly things with his mouth.
“Mm, you know Bonnie…I’m a little offended…” his ghostly voice whines as his tongue traces the rim of her bellybutton.
Oh God, she wants to moan, but grits her teeth instead.
“I mean…you’re not even trying…” he complains, dipping his tongue lower, feeling the heat of her in his mouth.
Her mind is a fog and no light can pierce through.
When the chains fall against her wrists and twist around her ankles…she opens her eyes with a tremor. Her mouth parts in horror.
Kai Parker is sitting in a chair by the window, watching the waterfall.
She is chained, naked, to the bed. She is fettered by his old chains. She has been caught.
Kai licks his fingers with a sinful grin.
“You’ve gone soft on me, Bon,” he chides, cocking his head to the side.
“Don’t worry,” he adds, and when he flexes his wrist, the chains tighten against her hot, sticky skin. Her cunt is still wet and getting wetter. “We have aaall night to fix it.”
