Damon Salvatore One Shots

Y/N is on her period and Damon helps

i.

With the slightest effort, Damon jumps through the open window. Her room is dark. Absent of light other than the sullen grey coming through the attic windows.

Y/n is laid in her bed, burrowed under a white bedspread, her face pressed into the neon green plush of a stuffed animal. She's sleeping— breathing steadily, her nose whistling the way it always does when she's sleeping.

The smell of her bedroom is familiar, like warm cinnamon and clean fabric. The faint stale smell of weed near her nightstand is comforting. Something that is wholly her. Except, when his boots sturdy themselves against the ground, he can smell blood.

He's over by her bedside in an instant, checking over her with a worried expression. She stirs from the suddenness, blinking her heavy eyes open until they focus on Damon. He cups her cheek and lays a kiss between her eyebrows, listening to her squeaky yawn. She shifts under the mounds of blankets, lifting a corner for him. The smell is stronger there and Damon backs up, only for a moment, before spotting the heating pad tucked against her tummy. The blue sheets are warm from the pad, beckoning him into her bed. As he lowers himself to her sheets, he notices it's sweet like all of his favorite parts about her. The metallic tang of blood follows after.

"Baby," she exhales, wiggling closer to him. She presses her cold nose into his neck, breathing in cologne and the expensive shampoo he washes with.

"Hey." He says, tucking his arms around her body. He feels the heating pad against his thigh, the warmth rubbing against his jeans. "How are you feeling?"

She shuffles against him, the wisps of her hair tickling his chin. "Hmph." She grunts. He can imagine her squishing up her nose, furrowing her brow at the discomfort. "Tired."

He splays his fingers across her lower back, gently kneading the tense muscles there. It's not his first time being around her while she's on her period. He usually stays to help get her comfortable. Make her a mug of tea and hold her to sleep. Except, every time he gets a whiff of her blood, his stomach lurches. It's different than the blood from her neck. There, it's warm, savory, and the little whines that fall from her mouth drive him crazy.

She kisses the corner of his jaw with soft lips. Barely pressing into the skin there before they fall against his chest, puffing out sleepy breaths. He settles his lips against her forehead, burying his nose into her hair— still familiar with the aroma of her pomegranate shampoo.

She raises a leg on top of Damons, scooting closer until they're flush against each other. "You're warm." She purrs.

With the arm underneath her, he lifts her body onto his chest and rolls to his back. He holds the heating pad against her while she situates herself, sighing happily. He tangles his fingers in her hair, lightly scratching in circular motions while he stares up at her ceiling.

"What did you do today?" She peeps, her head moving against him while she talks.

He breathes, watching as she rises and falls, curled up on his torso. "Nothing spectacular, little one." He taps her cheek with a finger, feeling the dip of a dimple beneath it. "Stefan woke up with hero hair and I read that book Bonnie lent me."

"The one on astrology?"

"It makes me feel like my head is going to explode."

Y/N chuckles, stretching her legs against Damon's. "Thank you for coming to check on me."

He doesn't have the heart to tell her that the smell of her blood is driving him crazy. It's making him feel possessive— overprotective. Mystic Falls is swarmed with vampires and he's not going to leave any room for miscommunication that y/n is his human.