Damon Salvatore One Shots

Damon sees the bruises on y/n's thighs

i.

After their more intense nights, Damon makes a point to wake up before y/n does. If she stirs at his leaving he kisses her softly until her eyelids relax, whispering for her to go back to sleep. He'll shuffle around the bedroom, tucking away vibrators and handcuffs, dropping her panties in the hamper, and setting a glass of water on her side of the bed.

Then he makes pancakes.

Y/n likes her pancakes fluffy and soft. She asks for three, even though she only eats two-and-a-half. She likes them to drown in maple syrup. She likes it when Damon makes the eyes of her "vamp-cakes" with blueberries and adds a strawberry nose.

A vinyl plays in the parlor, some Etta James album that he found in storage recently- while he cooks. The morning sun is just beginning to shine through the windows, splashing rays across the white counters. His ears perk at the sounds of bare feet tapping against wood, stairs creaking with his girlfriend's descent. He hears her stop in the foyer and yawn before she walks into the kitchen, a sleepy smile on her face.

Damon puts down the spatula and walks over to her, wrapping his arms around her frame and pressing kisses into her hairline. She sighs happily, nuzzling against him while he pets down her morning hair. It's all curly and knotted, tangling in his fingers as he gently scratches the base of her skull.

"Pancakes?" She pipes, drawing back from his hug to peer over his shoulder before he catches her for a kiss, lightly squishing her cheeks between his hands as they do so. They part with a breath and Damon chuckles as she reaches to the plate of freshly cut strawberries, popping one in her mouth.

"They're almost done, bug." He says, hand brushing against her bottom as he slides past her to flip the last pancake on the pan. "Wanna get us plates and syrup?"

She nods and turns to the cabinets with the plates, opens them, and raises on her tip-toes to reach the plates. Except, she's struggling to raise her arms, and her legs are shaking, and her face is contorted into one of pain. Damon blips over, taking the plates from her before they drop on the floor.

"What's wrong?" He asks and y/n breathes out, wincing as she lowers her feet to the floor. "Babe, are you ok?"

He's thinking it's her back pain again, or she tore a muscle while stretching. His mind is running endlessly with scenarios, pausing when y/n opens her mouth.

"I woke up sore. That's all."

Oh. He feels guilty that he's relieved. He moves a piece of hair behind her ear and kisses her forehead, lips lingering over her warm skin. "Sore where?"

She blushes slightly, eyes drifting to avoid eye contact. "Everywhere. Last night did a number on me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He coos and y/n watches as worry fixes his gaze. She shifts her weight to the other foot, feeling the tenderness in that leg. She shrugs and steps away, Damon's hands falling from her shoulders to hang at his sides.

"Didn't know."

Damon frowns and turns to the stove, flipping the last pancake onto a plate. For a second, Y/N thinks that Damon has dropped the subject, but then he's scooping her up into his arms, heading for the stairs. He mumbles something about how he'll reheat the pancakes but "we gotta get you in working condition first.".

He places her on the edge of his bed and Y/N hisses at the sudden contact on her bottom, feeling the stinging pain of last night. Damon cocks his head at that. He doesn't remember spanking her hard enough for her to feel it the day after, but her red bottom tells a different story. There's a daylight-ring-sized welt on her right cheek and Damon's heart breaks to see it.