Damon Salvatore One Shots

Y/N is oblivious and Damon's an asshole, isn't he?

i.

Damon was pissed. He didn't like to be kept out of the loop and that's exactly what Y/N did. He glares at her now, sitting at the edge of Bonnie's bed with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised, and feet locked at the ankles. She's such a brat, he thinks. He turns his back to her and paces the length of Bonnie's room, trying to wrap his head around what they told him.

"So let me get this straight. You-" He points to Bonnie Bennett who's leaned against a mountain of pillows, her yellow bedspread pulled up to her chest. "Are going to trade one of your family heirlooms for some necklace that is going to be the anchor to the other side. What are you going to do? Make it a fashion statement?"

Bonnie huffs and throws her hands up, looking at Y/N. "Why did you even tell him?"

"Because I don't have a car, dummy. How else am I supposed to get to New Orleans?"

"Wait- New Orleans?" Damon says, his eyes widening. "Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?"

Y/N sighs like she does before she tells a story and Bonnie pinches the bridge of her nose, annoyed. "There's a witch in New Orleans who's willing to do the spell. She can make the amulet the anchor to the other side instead of Bonnie. But she wants something in return and a Bennett heirloom is the best we got."

She rattles off the details like she's known them her whole life and Damon wonders how long they've kept this from him. He just saw her playing spades at The Grille last night and she didn't have the sneaky look in her eye that she has now. Well, she did, but it was different. "Let's say we get this amulet- then what? We just bring it back? No problems, no nothing?"

"Do you see dead people?" Bonnie asks, narrowing her eyes at him.

"No."

"Then you'll have no problems." Bonnie grew to be thinner over the months. Her curls became loose and tangled around her face. Her eyes were sunken in with purple bags. Being the anchor was destroying her. Not only mentally but physically too. He decided not to press the topic anymore.

"Where did you get all this from, anyway? Because I know there wasn't an ad on CraigsList."

"Elena." Y/N answers, leaning back on her elbows. Her hair pools at her arms, swaying with the movements of her head while she talks. "I guess she bumped into the witch a couple of days ago and they got to talking."

"Elena? What is she doing talking to a witch?"

Y/N shrugs and cranes her neck to look at Bonnie. "Probably something with Rebekah. They're serious now, you know? Like a proper couple." She turns back to Damon, a smirk playing on her face. "You jelly?"

Damon huffs. "Shut up. You'll have to stake me before I trust an Original."

"Point me towards the stake," Bonnie adds, her voice deadpan. Y/N snickers and swings her leg all pretty-like.

"And, one last question." Damon locks eyes with her. "Why do you have to go?"

"Because the witch doesn't trust vampires. Rightfully so, I mean, your species does fuck over people on the reg."

"No way. That just sounds like a trap. You have to be kidding me."

"Am I kid-" She began, eyes flipping to Bonnie, then back to him. "Look at me, D. This is my serious face."

Damon took a slow, deep breath through his nose. Held it. Then let it out. "Fine. But I'm not letting you out of my sight once we get to New Orleans and you better pack light. You bring a lot of shit with you."

"God, grumpy pants. You act like I'm not saving your friend's life!" She yells after him as he leaves Bonnie's bedroom. He thuds down the stairs, his boots heavy against the wood. When he reaches the Camaro he can hear them giggling from the open window. Y/N is crawling up the bed, her midi-length butterfly skirt wrinkling around her.