My first damon x reader fic. I've been stalking the tags for a while. I wrote this in two hours and I enjoyed the hell out of it. I hope you do too.
Damon catches you dancing on another guy at a club and is furious. You two get into an argument about the status of your "friends with benefits" relationship, and Damon has to make things very clear.
Word count: 2222
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Warning // Daddy kink, smut, slightly dark Damon
Damon's face was strained in anger, his eyes dark and dangerous. You knew he was mad, it was undeniable. It made you want to argue with him even more. He had been busy chasing after supernatural enemies lately, leaving you to your own devices.
"Well, I can tell you it surely isn't because you were grinding against some old guy." He retorted, sarcasm rolling through the sentence as he approached you with long steps.
"And you have a problem with that because..." He sped towards you, forcing you to against the walls of the boarding house. His breath was hot against your face as you glared up at him.
"Don't act like you don't know, y/n." He growled.
You pushed him off of you with all your strength but he barely stumbled. You moved off the wall and stomped towards the front door.
"Actually, Damon, I don't know. Because you're the most apathetic asshole I've ever met. We're friends with benefits, you said it yourself." You spun around, aggressively pulling your bangs from your eyes.
"Do you know what it means to be friends with benefits?" You continued, "It means you fuck me and then I leave. I get to go make moves on a sugar daddy because you have no claim over me."
Damon's lips pursed together in a straight line and you could see him getting angrier as you kept talking. It made your heart thud to get a rise out of him.
"So until then, I'm doing whatever the fuck I want." You finished, throwing your bag over your shoulder and opening the front door. It closed suddenly and you were yanked back, your wrist caught in Damon's hand. In a flash, you were upstairs in his room.
"You've got quite a mouth, little girl." He snarled, pushing you to sit on his bed.
"You act like I didn't just save you from some predator that just wanted your pussy."
"Tell me how you're any different." You spat and gasped at the smack that landed against your cheek.
"Say some shit like that again." He grabbed your chin roughly, staring straight into your eyes. He wouldn't compel you, even while he's this mad. He would never make you do something you didn't want to do.
You shrunk inside your skin, the adrenaline that fueled your argument diminishing as his voice dipped into a dangerous octave. He was livid and horny. You glanced at his pants eyeing the bulge poking through his jeans.
Damon was possessive of you, that much was clear. You knew he would get mad when he walked into the club, answering Caroline's request to get you before you did something stupid. Seeing you with another guy, especially a man that was older than him, would drive him crazy. Your thighs were pressed together and you could feel yourself growing wetter. Possessive Damon excited you as much as he scared you.
"You're my girl, nobody else's, y/n. And if that wasn't clear before it will be clear after I'm done with you."
"Then you better make it good." You said and something in him flipped, triggering the dominant inside of him. He pulled off your dress in an instant and practically groaned at your perky tits that fell against your chest.
