Damon Salvatore Imagines

i23 (ii)

"Fine, then talk." He grinned, slurring his speech a little.

Taking the hint, the girl besides him excused herself and walked over to another man. 

"Look-" You began.

He cut you off. "If you want to get in bed with me, just say so."

He's absolutely ridiculous. "No! What even?" You rolled your eyes. "I don't know what you're doing here but I want you to know that I have matured and I'm not the same old Y/N you played with. And you can't do shit to me anymore."

A dark look spread across Mark's features. "I have changed too. I know I did some terrible stuff to you but I have changed." He muttered earnestly.

"Oh.. uh!" That was unexpected. "So you're not going to mess with my life anymore?" You questioned.

Mark chuckled. "Nah." He grinned again. "So basically after you left I kept feeling empty and now that I finally found you maybe do you want to get back together?" He furrowed his brows,  looking at you for answers. "I can assure you, I have changed."

"I have a boyfriend, Mark." You said, firmly. "And I love him very much."

"Even more than you love me?"

"Even more than I loved you." You corrected him.

Suddenly, an impatient look settled on his face and he grabbed your wrist. "We both know, I am the best you'll ever find."

"No." You spitted out, struggling to get out of his tight grasp.

He gave you a sly smile. "What'll happen when your current boyfriend finds out what a bitch you are. He's going to leave you for sure."

"Leave me alone, Mark." You hissed, as his hold on your wrist tightened further.

"He's going to find out what an emotional baggage you are and he'll leave you for good. Then you'll come running back to me."

"No, Damon's not like that." You muttered, trying to figure out a way to escape this.

"Honey, every man is."

"You used to fucking beat me, Mark." You whispered angrily.

"For God's sake, get over it." He growled back.

You did not want to cause a scene but it was apparent that Mark wouldn't leave you just like that. "I have to leave. Damon's outside waiting for me."

He held your wrist in a vise-like-grip as you squirmed, whimpered and looked up at him in terror as it began to hurt.

"Mark, you're hurting me."

"Last chance, get back with me. I'll give you one hell of a time."

Mark was manipulating you. He'd always done that, convinced you that he was the best you'll ever get and that he was what you deserved. The old Y/N had always fallen for it, but this wasn't her anymore. This Y/N knew what she wanted and she knew that it certainly wasn't Mark.

"NO!" You shouted loudly but your voice was drowned in the music of the bar.

"Man, I really wished I didn't have to do this." He muttered lowly as you looked at him, confused.

He stiffened his grip and twisted your arm, causing breaks in your wrist and lower arm that made you scream out in pain uncontrollably as tears ran down your eyes.

Unfortunately, the music still managed to drowned out your cries and to a passing stranger, you'd look like a normal drunk lady screaming the lyrics to the song.

The pain was unbearable. Black dots began to obstruct your vision. Suddenly the crowd in the Grill turned into blurry shapes who were jumping up and down and dancing to the loud music that was vibrating from every inch of the walls.

There was no hope.

Or wait..

"Y/N!" shouted a voice at the other end. Despite the deafening music, you heard this voice, this particular voice and then you fell.

But you didn't quite fall.

Your knight in leather armour had arrived.

He swooped in and caught you in his arms before you could hit the ground. You lost track of time then. Drifting in and out of consciousness due to the agony, you weren't able to distinguish between what was real and not. But then suddenly, the metallic taste of blood was forced down upon your throat and you had no other choice than to swallow. It happened quickly. The strength that had drained away from your body, leaving you weak and pathetic, returned. You could muster to open one eye. Another eye. Your wrist didn't feel like it would kill you anymore. When Damon had made sure you were able to stand properly, he sat you down on the bar stool and turned to face the person who was going to get the beating of his life today.

"You." spat Damon, almost trembling with anger. "You fucking piece of shit!"

Mark just stood there, frozen. He was unable to contemplate the scenario that lay before him. A man had bit onto his arm and gave you his blood and now you were feeling okay again? How in the world was this possible. But Mark's confusion wasn't long lived.

Damon threw his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to Mark's face, it hit his jaw with such force that blood pooled into his mouth. He drew his fist back again and it ploughed into Mark's stomach as his face twisted in torture and agony. Wait, there was something else. Was he smiling?

Mark launched into a full-blown grin.
"Bro, are you fighting me for this wretched slut?" He moaned through a mouthful of blood.

Dick move.

There was stillness on both sides. If hatred was visible the air would have been scarlet. Then suddenly movement, so much force in every blow. Damon rained blows onto Mark as if he meant to smash him into the very earth.

"I.. will.. fucking.. murder.. you." Damon panted out loud as he delivered a punch to Mark's face with each word.

People were starting to notice. You had to break this up.

"Damon?" You said weakly, tugging his arm.

He turned around and looked deep in your eyes, making sure you were okay.

"Let's go home. Compel him already." You insisted.

Mark was lying on the ground, a bloodied mess. There was still a slight hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

Damon's eyes flickered between the two of you, as if debating what to do. Then he gave a quick nod and bowed down to be at Mark's eye level.

"You are going to forget that you ever met Y/N or me. You will never try to find us. Also, you got into a normal scuffle at the bar just because you were drunk and there is nothing more to it."

You breathed out a huge sigh of relief. Damon, finally, gave Mark one last disgusted look before stepping over and reaching out for you. He scooped you up in his arms and sped the both of you out of Mystic Grill.

Once the both of you were safely outside the front door of the Salvatore House, Damon turned to look at you.

"Are you okay?" He asked carefully, as if one wrong word might set you off. He eyed your wrist, which was now thankfully healed and not hurting at all.

"Yeah," You breathed out. "God, I thought he had changed."

Damon was silent. He seemed to be thinking about something and it was only then that you noticed his bloodied knuckles.

"Oh," You muttered, taking a hold of one his hands and gently caressing it. "I'm sorry you had to do that."

"He kinda had it coming." Damon smirked back. Maybe it was the traditional smirk or maybe the fact that you knew Mark was out of your life for good, your shoulders relaxed and you found yourself making your way into Damon's arms.

His embrace was warm, and his big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around your frail body. The world around you melted away as you squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.