𝑻𝑽𝑫 & 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 & 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒔

28. Stefan Salvatore

"I'm sorry, Y/N but no. Absolutely not." Stefan is shaking his head at you, jaw tight and lips set in a firm, unhappy line.

You whine and put on the best, biggest, puppy-dog-eyed performance you have ever given and it's Oscar worthy because you're desperate to get Stefan to agree. When he finally looks at you, his hazel eyes go dark as he shakes his head at you. Mentally digging in your heels, you hit him with the main point of your argument again.

"Stef, please. It's perfectly safe and you'll get more drinking from me than you will with any innocent woodland creature. Plus, I've heard all the talk. A lot of vampires do this all the time and I really think this is your best option here. I'm just asking you to try it. Please?"

Wearing dark jeans, boots, and a tan long-sleeved henley, your best friend is standing stiffer than his 'hero hair.' With the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, you try not to stare at his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest. Stubborn, you mimic his stance and stick out your bottom lip in a playful pout until he rolls his pretty eyes at you and drops his arms. You're currently squaring off in the sitting room of the Salvatore house. If you could feel any fluctuation in temperature, you might shiver at the slight breeze coming in through the open window or warm from the heat coming off the fire in the harth. Stefan finally sits, his daylight ring glinting from the light of the fireplace as he pours both of you another drink. Accepting the offered glass, you study the bourbon decanter on the coffee table and take a sip. You both sit in tense silence for a long moment before you break it.

Your voice comes out softer than you mean it to when you ask, "Just tell me why. Why are you so dead-set against this? Why won't you even try? Is it me? I know it's kind of an..intimate thing but..would it really be that bad?"

Stefan sighs. It's prolonged and heavy with exasperation. Closing his eyes, he throws back the rest of his drink like it's an Olympic sport before setting the glass down on the table in front of him.

Turning his body to face you, he says, "Y/N..you don't know what you're asking..what you're offering. I know you're trying to help but this could complicate our relationship. Blood sharing is..uh..personal and the others that do this all the time are couples."

Heat creeps up your neck and cheeks from his low words and direct stare. You understood the implication of what he was saying but you didn't care. Stefan's health and wellbeing was more important to you than an awkward moment in your long-standing friendship. Making the decision to put him first, whether he saw it that way or not, you set your glass down before bringing your wrist to your mouth. Stefan begins to argue again but you ignore his protests as your fangs elongate and you bite into the vein inside your wrist. Looking at Stefan, you hold it out to him and wait. Your chest tightens at the sallowness in his skin and the sunken, purple bruises under his eyes. Guilt sours your stomach. You waited too long, let him starve himself too much before finally gaining enough courage to offer this to him.

With parted lips, Stefan stares at the small trail of bright red blood dripping from the wound on your wrist down your extended arm. After a moment, a soft sound escapes his throat and his eyes begin to shift from human to predator.

Scooting closer to him on the couch, you bring your bleeding wrist a little closer to his face and murmur, "Stop fighting me. Please, just take it. I'm a vampire, not a human. You'll be able to stop."

Unable to hold back from the temptation any longer, Stefan grabs you, gentler than you thought possible with how starved he was, and brings your open wound to his lips. He hovers there for a second and locks eyes with you before finally biting into your torn flesh. You both groan quietly as the first drops of your blood fall onto his tongue. It doesn't take long for the blood flow to increase and you moan softly as Stefan begins to drink feely from you. Heat pools in your belly and time slows to a crawl as your best friend's strong arms pull you, soft and pliant, into his lap.

The room is filled with the soft sound of the crackling fire and the low, needy sounds coming from both of you. You melt into each other and it doesn't bother you that you're closer to Stefan than you've ever been before. It doesn't bother you to have his hands rubbing along your arms, waist, neck, and collarbones. The feel of his touch is divine on your skin, setting your body ablaze. The smell of Stefan's spicy cologne, aged bourbon, burning pine, and your blood mix until you feel dizzy and intoxicated. You want more.

Eyes heavy, your free hand moves up to touch and explore Stefan's body as he feeds from you. More heat pools low in your belly and suddenly you desperately want to be on the receiving end of this exchange. Blood may be blood but each person smells and tastes slightly different and dark, needy desire has you thinking dirty thoughts about your best friend. Adjusting on Stefan's lap, you press your center into his growing erection. The movement is equivalent to dumping ice water on him as he is catapulted back to reality.

He pulls your wrist from his bloody lips and looks at you with wide, shocked eyes. Speechless, you both stare at each other for a long moment. The air is thick with tension and your body still sings with curiosity and lust but you smile softly up at Stefan. He looks so much better, his color is slowly returning to normal and the bruises under his eyes are much less prominent than they were a few minutes ago. Reaching up, you touch his cheek gently as the wound on your wrist heals itself and closes.

In a breathy, slightly shaky voice you say, "Better, much better."

Stefan stares down at you cradled in his lap, his now steely erection still pressed to your core. With eyes full of emotion, and a voice full of gravel, he states, "I've dreamed of you in my arms like this for so long..Are we complicated now?"

Smiling brightly, you bite your bottom lip gently and move your hips to create more friction against Stefan's lap. He sucks in a sharp breath and you reply, "No, never.. but I hope you take me upstairs to bed an–"

With inhuman speed and strength, you're picked up, carried, and tossed into Stefan's silken bedsheets faster than you could finish what you were about to say.

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