TVD/TO Imagines, Etc.

Christmas Preferences(Damon)

A Trying Man

Fluff/Humor/Angst: (Female/Male) Reader x Damon Salvatore

Imagine it's Christmas Day and you and Damon just had a huge fight and he decided to try a bunch of grand gestures to try and win you over.

It was Christmas morning, and your husband had slept on the couch. The night before, you and your former vampire husband Damon Salvatore had gotten into a fight. You and Damon used to be vampires before you took the Cure, so you were accustomed to living and acting a certain way. Damon, for one, was used to constantly offending people and pulling jokes that crossed multiple lines and getting away with it. Last night was the final straw for you; Damon, who had the day off from work, had decided it would be fun and worthwhile to light off a ton of fireworks at midnight just to provoke your neighbor who notoriously had PTSD, who Damon had argued with a week ago. You were definitely a lot like Damon in that all your life, you were used to being a complete dick, but you knew that the difference between you two was, Damon took the joke way too far, and had possibly screwed up your chance to start over by doing something completely irresponsible, disrespectful, and cruel. You didn't particularly care about your neighbor at all, seeing as he was a douche bag, but you didn't particularly like the idea of having the cops called on you, or having all of the neighbors think that you and Damon were horrible people, no matter how true it was. Damon also had no remorse for what he'd done, but also didn't take the actual gravity of what he'd done seriously. Not only did that hurt you, but it also hurt you much more that Damon didn't take your new life and future together seriously. You sighed sadly to yourself, coming downstairs for a cup of coffee. You had no idea what Damon was going to be like today, but knowing Damon, it definitely wouldn't be a silent night. You were pouring yourself a cup of coffee from the pot, and you nearly gasped as you felt a pair of irresistibly strong arms wrap around you from behind. Damon.
"Damon!" You cried out, pulling away.
"Good morning, (Y/N). Merry Christmas," he murmured in his definitely attractive sleepy voice, which he knew you wouldn't be able to resist.
"Stop it," you muttered, turning to face him.

You groaned frustrated as he leaned in to kiss you. You held out your hand, and he pulled away, confused, as his lips crashed right into the middle of your palm.
"Are you ready to apologize for being such a dick yesterday?" You raised an eyebrow as you quickly drank your coffee, knowing that any interactions at all involving Damon required maximum energy.
"Yes," Damon nodded seriously.

This answer wasn't completely reassuring, coming from Damon, but it was definitely the better one.
"Okay. What do you have to say for yourself, not just about how you got with me, but about what you did to Paul down the street?" You prompted.
"Oh, come on, (Y/N), that's not fair, you know I hate Paul."
"Babe.... I hate Paul too," you admitted. "But I also have some respect for Marines, believe it or not. But then again, that doesn't excuse you from being a complete ass-hat, so I'm willing to let the firecrackers go, even if you did get the cops called on you on Christmas Eve and I had to go and bail you out," you almost laughed.
"See? Told you it was funny," your husband grinned.
"Damon, you realize people around here don't see triggering someone's mental illness as 'funny', right? We're lucky he didn't end up pressing charges. Yeah, Paul's a dick, but at the same time, you don't know what he goes through," you reasoned.
"Right," Damon nodded. "How about you come with me to his place to deliver a sincere and polite apology in a couple hours?"
"Good. I appreciate that, Damon. Don't mess that up, you're off to a good start," you nodded. "And what do you have to say about me?"
"You, (Y/N), are my princess, and the love of my life. You're funny, daring, loyal, understanding, and kind. I.... do not deserve you, and I am lucky to have you," Damon stated with a guilty sigh. "I should've respected your feelings a lot better than I did, and taken our conversation yesterday seriously."
"Yeah," you agreed. "You got the whole 'listening to me' part down. But what about the part where you understand me? Do you know why I was so upset about what happened?"
"Uh...."
"Okay," you realized his well-meaning cluelessness. "Let me help you. The only reason I care about what other people think of us is that if people like us, we can have a good time here, a good life. You want kids too, don't you?"
"Of course I do," Damon murmured.
"Right. And don't you want our kids to be able to play with the other kids without people worrying about them triggering people's mental issues?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," he replied softly, realizing what he'd done.
"You have me as your family now, and more to come. Kids. Sure, before what you did affected your brother badly, but do you want your kids, what, bearing the 'sins of the father'?" You asked expectantly. "Your (wife/husband/partner)?"
"No," your husband shook his head. "I love you, and I want a happy family with you in it. I'll do anything to make it all work, and I'll do a smarter job of it from now on."
"Okay then," you nodded. "Good talk."

You chuckled to yourself as a grin was already forming on your face, and Damon's. You being mad at Damon or the opposite was never easy or fun.
"Wanna help me bake some cookies for Paul?"
"No," Damon replied bluntly. "But I definitely don't mind helping you make cookies, so let's do it."
"That's my man," you smiled, kissing him. "But first...." you said in a sultry mumble.
"Yes, (Mrs./Mr.) Salvatore?" Damon smirked seductively.
"Go brush your teeth," you frowned.
"What?" he gave a goofy chuckle. "You don't want some tartar up in your fish sticks?"
"Ew!" You cried, laughing. "Gross! That didn't even make that much sense! Go brush your teeth, Damon Salvatore, and never say anything like that ever again."

Damon laughed, running up the stairs.

****

"(Y/N)!" Damon called. "Come see what I got for you!"
"Oh my God, Damon, I knew you'd resort to crazy gifts to win me over," you sighed as you came into your family room. "I told you, it's okay, you don't have to do all that crazy stuff you've been doing. I love you," you assured him.
  "Yeah. I know," Damon sighed. "It's just.... I've been trying so hard to make our new life work for us both, and to keep you happy."
  "I am happy. I have you," you smiled as you kissed him. "But since you decided to.... what'd you get me, Damon?" you smirked.
  "Open it," Damon sighed in complete embarrassment.

You giggled excitedly, opening the medium-sized box to reveal a pair of shoes, and another small white leather box.
  "Damon," You gasped speechlessly. "Red bottoms?!
  "What can I say? I wanted to spoil my (wife/husband/partner)," Damon shrugged nonchalantly.
  "Damon...." you sighed.
  "Don't be mad. It's Christmas," your husband grinned. "And, no, I didn't spend a whole lot of money on these."
  "Then.... how did you get them?" you asked, eyebrow raised.
  "I.... may have.... visited the evidence locker down at the police station," he murmured. "And, well, I saw something your size, so what was I supposed to do?"
  "Okay," you laughed. "Fine, I'll wear evidence. No one saw, and no cameras, right?"
  "Nope. And besides, I could just ask sweet Caroline to compel someone for me," Damon reasoned.
  "Okay. Fine. But.... these didn't belong to a dead person, did they?" You asked hopefully.
  "No," Damon shook his head. "The opposite; a robber tried to steal them and left prints. I think they used them to catch a big, 6'2" Cinderella."
  "Okay, sounds good," you decided. "I actually really appreciate this, Damon. You thought about me, even if it was in the wrong way."
  "It's what I do best," Damon Salvatore grinned.
  "And what's in here?" You asked, opening the other box.

An amazing personalized charm bracelet was inside. You smiled, holding your fingers underneath each one, remembering its significance to your past with Damon.
  "A red teardrop," you chuckled. "Blood. Of course."
  "I had to be creative. There's not exactly a 'being vampires together' charm," he replied.
  "A red rose. You gave me one on our first real date," you reminisced. "Who knew that would've led us to.... an engagement ring," you smiled.
  "Yeah. We might've been dealt a sh*tty hand, but.... we made it," Damon reminded himself.
  "Babe?" You asked.
  "Hmm?"
  "Why is there a.... a stick of dynamite on the end?" You asked.
  "Oh, that's a firecracker," Damon chuckled.
  "Ah. And the dollar sign?"
  "Me bribing that police officer to let me into the evidence locker," Damon explained.