Sometimes Damon could refuse Clarissa, even long term. It didn’t happen often, as he was whipped as hell and crazy about her. He liked spoiling her, he liked giving her every damn thing she wanted because Damon honestly believed she had no idea what she’d given to him, what this happiness meant. He’d give her the damn world if she wanted it. Damon would give her anything.
This was crazy and it wasn’t happening and no matter how many times she said his name sweetly or looked at him with those eyes or pouted and tried to Glamour - it wasn’t happening.
Until Stefan thought it was a good idea too, and suddenly Damon wasn’t just dealing with his pouting girlfriend making eyes at him, but now his younger brother (who Damon was having trouble denying as well, now that they had some hundred and forty-five years to make up on).
Stefan and Clarissa made a terribly good team, they were like two little kids and Damon the exhausted parent who just wanted them to shut up so he could rest. Or rather, they were like relentless waves crashing into a cliff, chipping away at it, endlessly.
(In reality, Clarissa and Stefan just pouted and Damon quickly gave in with a huff, throwing his hands up in defeat.)