Demetrius Desmond Fanart Novels & Stories

I lift my head slightly whilst we are walking and take in the view in front of me. Dimetrius is built like a warrior god. He has muscles built upon muscles and his skin is ridiculously tanned from all the heat radiating from the Lava flowing through the city. His arse is perfectly round and his pants are slightly too tight, allowing me to visualize exactly what I will see and feel under there the moment we get behind closed doors. I can feel the heat building in my core with every step closer we take, my heart rate is quickening as I’m visualising slamming him against the wall. Out here he is the master, but not behind closed doors.

“You think you’re going to get answers by trying to beat them out of him? You're just going to end up killing him and there is not going to be good for us to it.” “He deserves worse.” I snapped. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean we waste our energy now.” Damon’s voice dropped further. “Use your head. Not your rage.” I clenched my jaw. Behind us, Carter said, voice ragged, “She called herself Tatiana. She… she said things about Delilah. About power. About what’s coming.” Damon turned slowly. “Spare me.” Carter blinked. “You don’t believe me?” Damon’s expression hardened. “I don’t believe anything from a man who watched us bleed and said nothing.”

“On the night, it won’t be planned with specific people, You and Demitri yes, but the other men will be the ones who are here, I wanted to make sure there was a wide mix used before so she wouldn’t freak out.” “I am surprised she didn’t freak out at Darnel he looks intimidating, then again, a lot of people look at Demitri and think hide” I laugh, Demitri is one of the best tattooists around, and his body reflects that. He is big, not so much muscle but also not fat, his body covered in them, even on his face and head. Stretched earlobes, piercings everything. Women who know him want him, those who don’t either fall at his feet or run. Yet those who know him just like Darnel know that he is k

"How were you invited?" "I was the main student artist for the last exhibition, I'm bound to be invited with the kind of work I create," I said and she nodded. "So as I was saying, Michael is a sucker for showing off, and who wouldn't want to show off Feng Han's amazing paintings? I'd kill to have one of those in my apartment. Anyway, he's bound to make a purchase of at least one of the paintings." "How guaranteed are we that he will make a purchase?" Miranda asked and Luke answered.

I shouted his name once more, trying to get his attention. "Annie, what are you looking for?" Damon responded, his voice barely a whisper. He kept fucking Cassandra until he saw me again, and knew I was actually the one standing before him. "Then, tell me what it is you want from me." For a moment, he stopped and wrapped himself in a towel, drawing back a bit behind the bedrails. "Really?" I snapped. "Shut up!" Cassandra bellowed, staring at me with jealous eyes. "He's not going to fall in love with an ugly poor young ass like you... so, help us shut the door behind you immediately."

Damien said, his voice sounding incredibly soft yet terrifyingly hollow. The woman swallowed hard, her small hands clutching the edge of her dark robes as she tried to maintain her composure under his intense scrutiny. "My name is Jasmine, Alpha Damien, and I have served the secret order as the primary scribe for the last twelve seasons," she answered, her voice trembling slightly with an underlying fear that she could not entirely conceal.

Third, final, likely fatal mistake: calling him by the wrong name. Desmond is still staring expectantly at me, arms crossed, while I spiral out. Because it's too humiliating to make eye contact right now, I focus on his tattoos. Trees with bare branches etched in black, moon phases blazing a path down his forearm, waves curling around his bicep, all flowing together into a design that looks wild and elemental. There's an artistry to them. I want him to tell me the meaning behind each of them. I want to feel them wrapped around my body. Holding me.

He screamed out in frustration drawing people's attention but he didn't care because all he could think of that moment was Sera "I really need to find you..he cried out again and began to stagger like a drunkard 👥Who is he? 👥He's so cute.... He's probably a demi- god "Sera, I hope I find you quickly.. He muttered ignoring the numerous comments from people as he continue walking 👥I wish I am the one he's looking for" A girl said dreamingly Desmond who had heard her turned to her with a frown "I don't grant lustful wishes"..he snapped, his face void of emotions and the girl flinch back in fear

I replied unsure of how he knew it was my birthday. Just then one of the doors opened and Damian came in holding a beautiful birthday cake. I couldn't tell which was more beautiful him or the cake. he was wearing a blue jeans and an unbuttoned short sleeve white shirt. clearing revealing his broad chest and abs. seeing him standing made me have a flash back of all the times we have cuddled. He looked like he has just been dipped into a hot sauce. how I want long kiss those thick full lips and be wrapped up in his strong steady hands.

“I never told you about them. About Aries and Artemis. Without explicitly telling you, how were you to know? I’m just as fault as you are.“ Desmond looked at me, eyes also shinning. “It’s not excuse. Not for what I said. I’m so sorry.” Putting my hand up, I brushed his cheek. There were no sparks from our touch, furthering solidifying that this was only a dream. It hurt, that my mind was reaching out to him like this. He took my hand and pressed it agains this face. He looked thinner. The angles in his jaw becoming more pronounce, even with the beard that was growing back. Even his shoulder seemed smaller. “You’re not taking care of yourself.” He chuckled. “Why should I? Not only was I causi