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visd3stele · 1 year ago

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Rhysand POV of their first time sex scene

tw: SA, PTSD

Part of Rhysand didn't want to believe it. It was too beautiful to be true, too good to be truly happening. Despite himself, he found his heart tugging painfully apart from the blissful moment with doubt.

He dreamt of this moment all his life. Long ago, when he was a child and his mother told him stories about love and mates and how beautiful the life awaiting him is. And then again, under the Mountain, the flickering hope keeping him sane during his centuries long torture.

Each night Amarantha called for him in her chambers, which happened more often than Rhysand liked to remember, the High Lord of the Night Court gripped the single word with desperately clawed thoughts: mate. He played the sweet images his mother planted in his mind over and over again. Repeating to himself that this isn't what love is supposed to be. That making love shouldn't bring him shame, anger and disgust. It shouldn't be something he couldn't wait to be over. That he should matter as well, feel true pleasure as he orgasms, instead of forcing it out on her orders. That it's something he should want, not a duty to keep his people safe.

Staring at the bowl of soup getting colder in front of him, Rhysand gritted his teeth to stop himself from refusing it. He suppressed a shiver as the thought of rejecting the mate bond turned his blood to ice.

When the images of Freya, beautiful, brave, stubborn, kind Freya, started to flood his dreams, Rhysand thought he was seeing an angel. Another trick of his mind to keep him floating. Then he saw her and realized who she was and for the first time in years he felt unsure of himself. Fear struck his heart, knowing what might happen if anyone finds out who his mate is.

He spent the following months battling with himself. First, there was surprise. After so much time, he couldn't believe he has found his other half. Then, there was jealousy. His mate was loving another man. Last came pain, visceral, true pain, the like of which he hadn't felt since his sister and mother's death. It came with the realization he must give up on her, the human girl he was made for and that was made for him. Because it was the only way to keep her safe. To keep her happy.

But so much has happened since and things turned out in his favor after all, so sudden, so fast, Rhysand couldn't, as much as he wanted to, believe it.

Are you sure, he wanted to ask. Because how could she want him after everything? How could she agree to become his, so permanently as the mating bond is? He didn't deserve it. Her.

Do you understand what this means? Rysand almost said. Because he needed to be sure Feyra truly wanted this. Every single part of it. He wouldn't force it on her, of course, he'll wait until she'll want to consummate the mating bond. But he was painfully aware of the effects it had on both males and females. The crazy hormones, how hard it'll be to keep their distances, especially since it was already hard for him to do so.

And the thought scared him. What if he can't stop?

But the pull towards Freya won. Rhysand wanted her. More so, he needed her. He loved her. So he ate the soup in silence, each sip off the spoon a reverencial gesture, thankful for the sour, too salted liquid that tasted like piss. Because it contained his single, biggest dream: finding his mate.

The High Lord's fears were proven a waste of precious mind resources. Freya wanted him. Physically. And it wasn't just the mate bond claiming its rights on them both. Freya has fallen for him and was finally giving in to her own feelings, her own desires.

So Rhysand smirked at her, looked her up and down, noting every curve of her body, every smooth or roughened patch of skin and grinned. She shivered under his grazing gaze and it only made him want her more.

It wasn't something he wanted. And he flinched when realization kicked in. But Rhysand's body kept to learned patterns and he fell in the usual routine. He turned Feyre over so he could slip inside her from behind.

In his time under the Mountain, the High Lord became an expert at finding his way through a woman's pleasure. He knew exactly which spot to hit, what nerves to pinch between his fingers, how deep to thrust and when to slip out fully or only halfway and then plunge back in. The pace, the rhythm, going from excruciatingly slow to almost painfully fast, then slow again, constantly scratching the itch between her legs and creating new ones again and again until she reaches her release.

Rhysand wanted to curse his mind. Usually he mastered it swiftly. But tonight it refused to listen, bending him to its whims rather than obeying his. Feyre's moans were muffled by higher pitched ones, meaner, possessive, demanding. Her beautiful auburn hair darkened to a bright red one, flames that burned him still. Her sweet figure, sharpened by famine and hardships, rounded in a too familiar shape, one that still lingered at the back of his nightmares, strangling, chocking, drowning him.

When his mate turned to face him, to look down at where their bodies were jointed in perfect harmony, his thoughts drifted to endless nights of exhaustion and sufferance. Feyre's perfect face twisted into Amarantha's nightmarish one, her wretched presence one again plaguing his dreams.

And Rhysand froze.

It didn't last long, but for him it felt like an eternity. Chaos erupted in his mind, flashes of unfocused images, clearing on certain painful moments – "Louder, Rhys, moan for me", she said once, during a particularly passionate night, thighs suffocating him as Rhysand leaped miserably at her walls, tongue buried between her legs; another time she had him pin her down, roughening his pace as her screams of pleasure scratched his ears; some nights, Amarantha would want him five or six times, some other she'd make him last until she came four times and wouldn't let him finish... – Rhysand's breath quickened.

Before he could lose himself to the darkness, he moved them. So now Feyre was on top of him, clearing the darkness threatening to overtake him with her light. He gripped her hips, rocking her back and forth down his length. She allowed him to move her as slow or fast as he wanted, kissing him softly all over his tensed body. Each kiss a promise of safety, of love, of loyalty. Each kiss brushing away her touches, her possessive fingertips burned into his skin, claiming Rhysand as Feyre's own.

Over the years, the High Lord of the Night Court grew so familiar with the feeling of sex, of hot flesh splashing against his own hardened one, that he thought nothing could phaze him anymore. He became so cold to the intimate act, that Rhysand believed it to be a mere, basic need in need to be satisfied.

But as Feyre swinged atop of him, her warm breath hovering over inches of his body until there was none left to bare Amarantha's marks, Rhysand understood how wrong he was. Unity of body meant more than an itch to be scratched. It brought him to the verge of tears, the image of his mate, with her eyes fluttering close and open again, hair a tangled mess from his fingers brushing and tugging through it, a blissful smile playing on her lips...

It drove him crazy. Crazy with absolute, with desire, with love. It was a different kind of pain. One of not having enough, of needing more instead of the one he was so accustomed to, the one that made him want to hide and scream and cry from having too much thrown at him, always more exactly when he thought he couldn't carry any more.

His heart burst with joy as his insides burst with a new, intense feeling. He fucked women before Amarantha almost ruined it for him. He knew how an orgasm should feel like. But never have Rhysand experience such a strong surge of pleasure, setting his whole body aflame; and not just skin or muscles, but blood as well.

He thrusted his hips up once, shoving himself into the eager opening of his mate's folds. They screamed together each other's names as they came undone, falling next to each other in search of much needed rest, yet unable – or perhaps unwilling would be more fitting – to let go.

"I remember you mentioning a wall," Feyre, his Feyre, mused. And Rhysand couldn't stop the laugh that shook him to his core. He can't remember the last time he laughed so genuine, so carefree.

"Next time Feyre, I'll fuck you against a wall." He promised, not only to her, but to himself as well. Against a wall and the kitchen counter, in the pool outside and up in the sky, there shan't be a single part of our bodies undiscovered by the other, nor a single corner of my domain hidden from our love, the High Lord thought, taking in the sight he still couldn't fully bring himself to believe anything but a beautiful dream: his mate sprawled over him in his bed after they consummated their mating bond.

"Hard enough to make the pictures fall." She reminded him. And he agreed. Of course he agreed. The joy he rediscovered tenfold filling him with adrenaline.

"Show me again what that wicked mouth could do."

Though he has said it confidently, a mask Rhysand wore so much and for so long it wouldn't come off all at once, nerves strained his voice. If it wasn't for the mate bond connecting the two of them deeper than it should be possible, the High Lord was sure the trembling of his question would have passed unheard. It shouldn't have sounded like a question, but if it did to Feyre's ears as it did his own, something Rhysand was sure of, she didn't let it show.

Instead, he climbed to the end of the mattress, locked her eyes with him – those mesmerizing blue eyes – and begin to work him with her tongue. She licked up and down, never letting her gaze fell from his own. And Rhysand had to grip the sheets to suppress shudder after shudder.

This was new to him. He knew how to pleasure and how to find his own through focusing only on Amarantha – if he didn't, his people would have paid the price. But he can't remember the last time someone purposefully pleasure him. Only him.

And Feyre must have known it too. Felt it. For she took her time blowing him. By the time she actually took him in her mouth, Rhysand found himself questioning his self control, for how could he have not come already?

His girth was covered in his mate saliva, but nothing could have prepared him for the warmth of her mouth. Ragged breath closing around his length, tongue swirling, circling, tugging and brushing the pulsing skin. Feyre bobbed her head, kissing his dick with renewed energy.

She slide on him, taking all of Rhysand down her throat, closing her lips at the base of his cock. Then she began sucking, moaning as she did so, eyes still staring into his own.

The newly made Fae didn't release him even after he spilled himself into her mouth. She kept stroking him lazily with her tongue, sliding her lips up and down, and grazing her teeth softly over it until his cock softened and became limp in her mouth. Then she arched her back and slide off him, taking the skin into her fist and pumping it.

She didn't do it for herself, Rhysand had to remind his panicking heart, racing confused by all the new, contradictory feelings. She did it because she wanted to give him more. More pleasure, more love, more of her.

And that Feyre did. That, Rhysand let her do. Their first night together was spent on learning each other, on teaching him to be comfortable in bed again, without having to fake it. And as sleep engulfed him, the High Lord of the Night Court vowed to make it up to his mate for the rest of his life. He'll worship her, with his body, his mind and his soul, for as long as he will live.

#rhysand #feyre and rhysand #feyre archeron #a court of mist and fury #acotar #feyre cursebreaker #feyre darling #feyre x rhysand #rhysand x feyre #acotar fanfiction #a court of wings and ruin #a court of war and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #feysand #smutty

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redsaurrce · 2 years ago

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Hehehehe come here tiger 🥵💋🦁

WHOOOP you are back! How was your week Sweets? I hope your week isn’t too hard on you! ☺️

Ahhh maybe I have to get the courage to dm you with my acc? Hmmmmm 🤪🤔

Yes that is what I have been doing ^^ But I have so much to tell and just no idea how to express it big sigh but maybe I am just being too hard on myself haha. At the moment I am just giving myself time to build a start to the story and give a good number of details without it being too much, trying to keep it on point 🤦🏼‍♀️

You do?! Like I feel so sorry for the authors because they put so much work into their creations but sometimes I just cannot get into it? Especially if the style of story telling doesn’t speak to me… You def improved even tho I think you did well on Part 1 too. Like really well hehehe 💗💓💝💖💕💞

Lmao you are WAAAAAAYYYYY more adorable than me!!! Heheheheh if you want it to be it is 🥰😚

Gimme that hug! I loooooove them!!!! Well trespassing would imply you are an unwanted guest? But you are not so heheh no trespassing but anyway I could never push you away

HAHAHAHAHAH booking dot com? Nooooooo my pocket 😋

You better stay in my pocket to! Protect at all costs 😈

Why would I be intimidated? YOU ARE SO CUTE HOW COULD I EVERRRRR WHAT!!!! Nopeee I won 💜🩵💙💚💛

lmao I thought maybe you are like nahhhh no good then you could have deleted it and forgotten about it 😅

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeah Freya has the ability to use fire but it is not the only type she can use ^^ She doesn’t know about her connection to a dragon, those fairytales are told to children but are just tales. Right…?

Well JK will be very… attached to her when he learns about her and who she is. The things he will do to keep her…. Tststs evil evil man... But he is doing it out of love right???

Lmao I even made a map for everything and stuff ah man 😅

- Y 💜

Hi hi caramel (ooohhh i like the tiger 🐯 rawrrr)yeah my week's been great luv, except yesterday I was sleepy throughout the day lol

Yeah why not caramel? Why need courage when u already have my love 😩😩

Take it slow kitten, don't be too hard on yourself, good writers didn't write their best stories on day 1, they just went the with the flow.. kept writing more and their stories became better and better on their own. It's literally absolutely fine to be at your own pace 💗

Ohh haha thankyou tho, I'll take the compliment 🥺💖💖 and dw caramel, it's not just u, it's quite universal to think like that ..including me, and maybe thats why i dropped a lot of novels because i just couldnt get into the writing style, i feel like if there are a lot of complex vocabulary or the beginning is getting dragged too much, Idk I just drop it. It doesn't happen with me only for stories but tv shows like kdramas as well, I am an avid kdrama fan but even though sometimes there are dramas which have literally highest ratings, I have dropped them because I just couldn't get into them (for example, our blues and my liberation notes despite knowing the fact how majority of people liked them while they were airing and even though both dramas had excellent cast, i couldnt feel the same)

Why? Because my preferences are different and so are for others, so don't feel sorry for not feeling it caramel, I'm sure other people who like those authors' styles will love their works ❤️

NOOOO STAWPPHHH JSJSJSSJJSKSKSSK yep I'm chilling in yo pocket 🤪✌��

Ayooo then take the huggie buddy 😘😘

THANKYOU LOLOL because I have seen people online say that they have thought I was intimidating at first but when they got to know me, they said that I've been the biggest crackhead they have ever met 😹😹😹 (ig being ENFP speaks for it 💀)

No no I'm really enjoying it luv!! Don't you dare say that or this tiger will bite you 🐯 🐾 /j

Ahhhh yeahhh I guessed it correct woo-hoo!! Yea alllll the fictional fairytales.. . 😏

Hihihi the evil evil man looked funny to me hahahaha ,,, yeah "love" tch 🥴 every yandere ever! *smh*

Ohhh I'd love to see the mapped out thing caramel, if you want you might show it 🥰🥰

#♡ : Y #sweet anon 💟#ask gallery 💌#me feeling if jk has already met her before but she cant remember?

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pentanguine · 2 years ago

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Favorite Books of 2022

It may not be January anymore, but at least it’s not May! As always, I’m dreadfully long-winded.

12. Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo

There is a reason this book has a thousand award medals on the cover. The period detail is so immersive, every sentence so real and personal, that I kept forgetting Lo wasn’t alive in the 50s and Lily wasn’t telling the story herself. It perfectly captures the giddy feeling of being a confused teenager in love, and I appreciated that Lily’s Chinese-American community didn’t feel like it was written for my understanding as a white reader. For the most part, it didn’t read like YA [YA is great, but not my thing], and the prose flew across the page in short, beautiful chapters. So glad I bought it on a whim.

11. The Tangleroot Palace by Marjorie Liu

A strange and lovely collection of stories told in beautiful prose, with Liu’s trademark ability to write complex, ruthless women. There were only seven and almost all were standouts, with the anthology moving from her darkest and most vicious story to the most charming and whimsical. Liu is a stunning storyteller.

10. A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske

A few years ago I had a failed attempt to read Witchmark, another queer Edwardian fantasy full of magical political intrigue, and this was everything I hoped Witchmark would be and wasn’t. The magic unfurled perfectly, the setting was well-realized, and the romance between Edwin and Robin blossomed so naturally, with each clearly seeing the appeal of the other and bringing realistic hangups to the table. Excellent balance of romance and intrigue, and Marske’s prose is full of original flourishes without being overwrought. Overall, highly enjoyable.

9. Red X by David Demchuk

Deliciously creepy and well-written, steeped in folklore and recent queer history. The horror feels all the more visceral because of how closely it follows the same characters’ lives, like there’s no escape—you’re being hunted, trapped, you’re fated for this end. Breaking the fourth wall adds an extra chilling touch. Strangely, without giving too much away, this book made me feel queer hope.

8. The Library of the Dead by T. L. Huchu

A great take on urban fantasy, with a well-drawn main character and magics both new and familiar. I especially enjoyed being inside a teen’s head in what is very much an adult fantasy, and reading Ropa’s distinct slang-filled narration. This installment felt like it was still setting things up in a lot of ways (What exactly happened to the world? Who is the king? What about Ropa’s mother? Are we going to be learning more about the Library?) but that’s all the more effective in getting me to look forward to the sequel.

7. Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman

A delightful mix of archives, transmasculinity, fandom, and vampires. Even though the story is centered on fantasy/horror concepts, it’s a told in a slice of life kind of way: Sol isn’t the one who discovers [the central problem], his concerns don’t leave the niche community of archivist vampires, etc. The romance and the sex were sweet and hot, and every trans conversation felt satisfyingly not for cis people. This book might be slightly impenetrable if you aren’t part of its niche audience, but I loved it.

6. Spear by Nicola Griffith

A story about losing home and finding it again, with all the heightened moments of myth woven seamlessly with real history. Peretur is a young person testing her strength, finding love, and experiencing loss, and my heart broke for her as she realizes what she is too late to save, and that even good, wise men are only men and can be led astray. The writing is gorgeous, precise, and lyrical, and the early chapters reminded me of my own childhood, when every story feels like an adventure you want to be part of. Highly recommend for people who enjoy myth retellings and atmospheric novellas, even if Arthurian legend isn’t generally your thing.

5. The Night Watch by Sarah Waters (reread)

I first read this book almost exactly five years ago, and I remember how blown away I was by the backwards structure of the novel at the time. I’d never read anything else like it, and I knew it made me Very Sad. Now, I have a renewed appreciation for the what arc does to the story: everyone ends on a note of hope in 1947, but we follow them backward into a moment of crisis that turns the story into a tragedy. They are fated, one way or another, to “end” with the beginning of their stories and follow the resulting path into inevitable pain and disappointment. What the characters love about each other and what makes them strong is also what destroys them and their relationships and brings everything crashing down. The construction of this book is just so masterfully done.

4. The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin

I devoured the last ¾ of this book, which was such a satisfying surprise after I slogged through the first 80 pages. This story has multiple narrators, and I didn’t care for the first one, but I loved everyone else’s voice and their stubborn, strong, flawed personalities. One of the many things I love about Jemisin is that she writes women, older women, and mothers so damn well, in a genre that rarely bothers to tell stories outside of a young, white lens. She also made me visualize abstract multidimensional entities with ease, and she even made me feel some vicarious affection for an ugly city I loathe. She’s a wizard. I loved it.

3. The Book Eaters by Sunyi Dean

A savage, near-perfect book taking on the concepts of motherhood, monstrosity, and story-telling with a highly original concept in a lovely literary prose style. It tells the story of a woman made monstrous by motherhood, and the questions it asks about goodness, complicity, the nature of love, the value of a life, and the wielding of power are complex and juicy. I think it’s the perfect book for the legions complaining that “strong female characters” are all just #girlbosses and that lesbians never get to be fucked up and messy.

2. Fitz and the Fool by Robin Hobb

Yes, this is another trilogy, but specifically Fool’s Assassin and the last 50% of Assassin’s Fate. The first book in this trilogy is so slow and domestic (but still heartbreaking! don’t worry!), but still totally immersive. I’ve realized I’m really drawn to the point in a long-running series when an author writes a slower-paced book focused on the everyday lives and relationships of characters we’ve come to know and love, and Fool’s Assassin is a perfect example. On the other hand, I also enjoy epic quests and constant peril, and the way those characters we know and love can be irretrievably broken by forces outside their control! And the ending! The ending! I sobbed for half an hour straight reading it! What an ending. That is how you write an ending.

1. Liveship Traders series by Robin Hobb

Is it cheating to list three books as your favorite book of the year? Not if it’s the Liveship Traders trilogy, because in my mind this is one long, unbroken story that happens to be split into three print volumes. I inhaled all three books one after another as fast as I could, and for the most part, I truly could not tell you what happens in one vs. another. The characters, the setting, the plot, the themes—everything is developed so richly, with such care, and everything feels real. Hobb is a master at balancing almost a dozen different perspectives while making every character’s motivations complex and believable. Even the villains are understandable, if not excusable, and not leering caricatures. Everything about the world feels magical and wondrous, and I truly couldn’t put it down. I read 800 page Ship of Destiny in 5 days. These books have set the bar so high I can barely see it anymore. If you like character-driven epic fantasy, multiple POV stories, dragons, or pirates, I can’t recommend these highly enough.

#personal #an inexhaustable source of magic

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princecharmingwinks · 4 years ago

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Sterek Fic Rec - May 2021. New rec list for you. Hope you enjoy these delightful reads featuring our favourite werewolf and human dorks <3

May I Interest You in an Apology Muffin? by Leslie_Knope (1/1 | 1,478 | Teen)

“Wait, seriously? Who is it? C’mon, just tell me.”

“Uh…,” Stiles said, buying for time while he looked around as surreptitiously as possible. “That guy over there,” he whispered finally, jerking his chin toward the dark-haired guy three tables over, a guy so hot that Stiles’ only chance with him would most definitely be in an imaginary scenario.

Scott looked over his shoulder at the guy and got that determined glint in his eye that Stiles recognized, just about three seconds too late. Scott was gonna do something that he thought was heroic but was actually dumb.

“Scott!” he hissed, grabbing for his backpack and nearly knocking over their coffee cups in his haste to follow him. “Oh, holy shit.”

you all over me by Poe (1/1 | 3,705 | Explicit)

The thing about Stiles is, Derek thinks, is that he has no idea how enthralling he truly is. He’s easy to overlook, right up until the point he isn’t, and at some stage, Derek started looking, and now, it’s all he can do.

(or: the one where the pack is happy, healthy and alive, and Stiles and Derek are sort of inevitable)

a bad case of the wilds by kaistrex (weishen) (1/1 | 6,446 | Explicit)

“I could smell you all over town,” Derek growls.

Stiles squints back at him, trying to parse what Derek wants from him with that statement. An apology?

“Okay?” he says instead, which, as with everything else he says around Derek, seems to be the entirely wrong thing to come out of his mouth.

Derek’s eyes go red and Stiles bolts upright in his chair, trying to scoot backwards, banging into his desk.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“Get away from me, Stiles,” Derek bites out, hands clenched into fists.

Stiles rolls his head on his shoulders. “Dude, this is my room. You get away from me.”

–

Basically, I wanted Derek fucking Stiles up against his bedroom window on a full moon with the blind up, so I wrote it. Happy Valentine's Day!

Cabins, Confessions, and Cockroaches by Nutellargh (1/1 | 4,009 | Teen)

That's how Stiles found himself in the middle of a forest, trying to grab the one bag of clothes and a bajilion bags of mystical powders, liquids, books and weapons, and instantly dropping them as he spotted the cabin dude.

Derek Hale chopping wood with an axe while shirtless was not a sight Stiles was prepared for.

the rescue by EvanesDust (1/1 | 860 | Teen)

Stiles has spent every moment of the last four months tracking the hunters who took his mate. Now that he’s found them, nothing will stop Stiles from taking back what’s his.

A Crooked Way to Fly by andavs (1/1 | 14,980 | General)

“We can’t just leave him here to die.”

“He’s an emissary, Scott.” Derek tried to make his tone empathetic, but Scott’s tendency to fight back on everything always grated on his nerves. “His pack is gone, he won’t survive more than a day or two either way.”

“Then we should stay with him.”

Derek sighed as he studied the man for a moment; he was too pale against the fur rim of his hood, almost grey from lying out in the snow, and his cloak was stained with dark dried blood around a protruding arrow shaft. It was unlikely he would even last the night. They would probably be able to carry on in the morning with little time lost, if any.

It wasn’t a horrible idea, Derek decided reluctantly. They hadn’t been able to set up a real camp for a few weeks in the open foothills, and they were all on edge from sleeping in exposed areas. A defensible place to sleep would be good for them, even if they were surrounded by death. They would be able to give the pack proper burials, at the very least.

“Fine. One night,” Derek relented, already moving away to check on Isaac. “He’s your responsibility.”

Big Bad Wolves by NotThatIWillEverWriteIt (1/1 | 1,144 | General)

"What's one more canine?"

But it's better when it's you by Tails89 (1/1 | 9,707 | Mature)

Shuffling slowly towards the front door, Stiles throws it open.

“What?”

Stiles’ brain short circuits - just a little - because standing in front of him is Derek Hale.

He hasn’t seen Derek in almost four years and now he’s standing on his doorstep, in shorts and a tank top with a canvas bag clutched in one hand.

Teen Wolf Fic Fest Prompt: Someone breaks a bone and someone unexpected winds up on their doorstep with a bag full of groceries

My Soul to Keep by jacyevans, Jmeelee (7/7 | 18,660 | Teen)

Stiles came with a whiteboard, and blue dry erase marker, flapping it over his head like a white flag on a battlefield.

"Come on," he coaxed. "You must want to say something. You've never gone this long without telling me to shut up." He waggled the marker in Derek's face. Stinging alcohol and pungent polymer singed Derek's nose hairs.

His fingers itched to pick up the board, and not because he wanted to tell Stiles to be quiet. He enjoyed the babble that filled the apartment every few days, the hearty food, Stiles' particular, reassuring smell: maple sugar buzz, spicy-sweet deodorant, milk-sour frustration, floral shampoo, and spring grass at night. It soaked into Derek's couch, his bed, his skull.

If any of it were real, Derek would take the board and write: thank you.

Lost Without You by ash_mcj (1/1 | 7,799 | General

Derek made a deal. A very stupid, no-good, mortifying deal because he couldn’t bear to tell his idiotic (secret) mate no. -- “You guys didn’t know that Derek plays piano?” Cora asked, her eyebrows furrowed. “He’s played since before I was born.” “He was good,” Peter recalled. “He used to sing, too. Put on little concerts for the pups.” “That was a long time ago,” Derek clipped. “Doesn’t matter now - I don’t play anymore.” "Derek," Stiles whined childishly. He scooted closer to him and grabbed onto his arm to gently shake him. “C'mon, Sourwolf, my life will never be complete until I hear you sing. I’ll do anything. I’ll streak across the lacrosse field during our final match, if you perform for us right now.” "When you graduate," Derek relented. --- And then Stiles graduated. And Derek had to perform for him. And then the fact that Derek saw Stiles as his mate wasn’t a secret anymore. ---

(For~ Sterek Valentine Week 2021; Day 3 and 4: Secret Crush and Love Song)

**Songfic to "Lost Without You" by Freya Ridings

princecharmingwinks special mention (i have never read a merman AU for sterek and this was a delighful introduction to the trope! Also it has meddling erica which we all know any mention of her is my weakness!)

Beacon Gills by kitsunequeen (1/1 | 4,226 | Teen)

“Derek,” Erica singsongs loudly. Rather than knocking on the rather flimsy-looking piece of driftwood, she grabs a coconut filled with seashells and shakes it violently. “We’ve got a surprise for you!”

“I hate surprises,” Derek answers, voice slightly muffled through the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be out exploring the caves with Isaac?”

“He has some special guests tonight,” Boyd says. “And so do you.”

Derek doesn’t answer right away, and Stiles can almost imagine him sighing.

“Come in,” he yields finally. “You know it’s unlocked.”

Erica flings the door open, nudges Stiles inside, and slams it behind him.

“Surprise!” she yells, and then Stiles can hear her and Boyd’s footsteps quickly retreating.

Oh, shit.

---

When Stiles accompanies Scott on a trip to his uncle's beach house, he gets more than he bargained for after running into a pack of mermaids with a particularly attractive leader...

And that’s it for the month folks! Thank you to the amazing fandom always giving me so much content to enjoy, sterek fandom is the best fandom ;)

#sterek #fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years ago

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Vicious

Part VI

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1567.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

________

You spent the rest of your evening like a somnambulist, barely able to concentrate on your projects before you went to bed, barely finishing half of the things you planned for today. Even the change of locks didn't make you as happy as you thought it would. It felt like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Lying in the dark, you stared at the ceiling, thinking of what happened just a couple of hours ago. Why did he do it? Was it just out of habit and didn’t mean anything? Naturally, with his appearance and easy-going attitude, he probably dated many girls and didn’t think much before kissing someone he liked.

Remembering the way he talked to you in the morning, you thought he must have pretended to be shy around you. Thor certainly wasn’t sheepish.

Was it all a sham? Was Loki right about all of them, playing their roles to get close to you? You couldn’t forget the way Thor looked the moment he told you about being smart. It was like something switched inside him, and for a second you saw the real Thor who was far from being your simple, good-natured athlete.

Why did you keep thinking about that stupid kiss even after seeing the man could be dangerous?

Aroused and angry, you tossed and turned until you fell asleep.

____________

Waking up was especially tough, despite the fact you didn't really do much yesterday, meaning you were going to spend your weekend studying. Shoot, and that's when you planned to visit that new chocolate boutique in the city. Maybe you could still make it if you spent more time studying today?

But then again, going to the city alone might be a bad idea. Even if the guys who stole your things were beaten, it didn't mean it had always been the same people following you. The school was full of weirdos, in the end. What if somebody went after you? Steve would definitely say you had to bring one of your guards with you.

Damn. It was better staying in the dorm then.

"Good morning! Are you ready?" Peter's voice broke through the silence, and you flinched, hurriedly applying some lipstick because you didn't have enough time to put your makeup properly.

Well, at least you were fully dressed.

"Just give me a second!" Picking up your bag, you put your shoes on and opened the door, looking at a young guy who's face was lit up like a Christmas tree. "Hi!"

He definitely liked what he saw, and you felt your cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. From the very start of the semester Peter acted very sweet around you, and you thought you could be friends with him. He wouldn't do something as ugly as blackmailing, would he? Thor said it too. Clearly, Steve was exaggerating.

"Did you sleep well? I've heard you changed your lock, so now it'll be better."

"Ugh, I hope so. But I still sleep with my dresser blocking the door." Sighing, started walking, afraid to look in the faces of other students, hurrying off to school.

They must have been disgusted, watching you being friendly with one guy after being all lovey-dovey with the other just yesterday. Although you didn't see anyone in particular, you were sure somebody saw Thor kissing you. And now you were walking the corridors with Peter.

"By the way, what's your Insta?"

What? Your Instagram? Whatever for? Although you had no idea why he needed it, you let him add you, by the time leaving the dorm and walking towards the main building.

Suddenly, Peter got pretty close, his arm on your waist as he lifted up his phone and hummed, "Look here and smile!"

Before you realized what he was doing, the boy kissed your temple, and you heard the sound of a photo being taken by his front-facing camera. What the Hell?!

"Peter!" Pissed at him, you quickly break free and stepped back, but he was already looking at his phone, editing the photo and posting it almost immediately.

You heard your phone buzz when he marked you on the photo.

"That's a good one. You look very cute here."

"What are you doing?!"

"Making a proof we're dating, of course?"

You were taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, and Peter smiled from ear to ear like an excited teenager, showing you the picture: it wasn't that bad, and you looked as if you were slightly embarrassed by Peter's closeness. Oh, of course. He had to convince his friends he was dating you, but he didn't kiss you on the lips that could make other people too suspicious. Instead, friends of Barnes or, say, Thor, would still think it was all for show, and it was their friend who dated you for real.

Shit, Steve's plan was incredibly complicated, and you didn't like it at all.

"Oh, alright." You mumbled, lowering your eyes to the ground, and Peter laughed.

"We'll make a TikTok dance later. If you wanna make people talk, just use your social media." He winked at you and put the phone in the pocket of his pants, resuming walking, and you moved along, your face still hot.

God, what did these guys got you into? You felt like you were lost in the middle of a play, not even having a script to read what was your role in all this.

Before you parted your ways, going to a different classrooms, Peter talked about videogames, the upcoming Resident Evil - apparently, his favorite franchise - and some Dota tournament, but you didn't know much about it, and Peter offered to show you his favorite games "because you can't spend all your time studying!"

He was as careless and sweet as always, but you couldn't get Steve's words out of your mind. Damn, if only you could know for sure that Peter didn't blackmail anyone. Who could you talk to about it? Obviously, not Peter himself, but every time he spoke you had that nagging feeling you needed to talk to him. You barely kept your mouth shut before he went to a different room.

Ugh, why didn't you transfer anywhere else when you still had a chance? Obviously, now you could only drop out of school, and it definitely wasn't something you were going to do.

Luckily, the next couple of hours you were busy with your classes, trying your best to prepare for the upcoming exams. The academy held high standards, and even though you were a good student, it still took lots of efforts to keep up the good work. How Thor even managed to get enrolled, judging by the fact he hated studying and often skipped classes?

Ah yes, he mentioned something about getting a scholarship from the academy for his success in the sport.

By the lunch time you were drained, listening to Peter chatting with an absent-mindedly epxression on your face. Funny enough, Peter's grades were better than yours, even though he spent much less time studying. What, was he some genius like Loki? You felt a little envy.

"I gotta go take my tracksuit, I have PE next," the boy said, and you nodded, throwing away the leftovers of your lunch.

As you stood close while he grabbed his sportclothes, you heard two guys talking behind the lockers to your right.

"Have you seen her today? She's with Parker!"

You tensed immediately. Of course, they were talking about you.

"Yeah, so what?"

"She was with Thor yesterday!"

Watching you froze on the spot, Peter stilled too, listening carefully. Oh shit, you hoped no one cared about who you went with - why should they, in the end - but, apparently, you were drawing too much attention simply because you were a girl among hundreds of male students.

"So what?" The other guy asked impatiently, growing tired of this conversation.

"Are you stupid? She's going out with them! I bet she's looking for a guy." The first student said with excitement, and you cringed. No, you weren't going out with anyone, you wanted to stop the weirdos from following you and steeling your things. Was it too much to ask?

"Yeah, who cares?"

"We have three fucking girls in the whole school, and you don't care if one of them could be going out with you? Besides, this one's pretty. I'd fuck her!"

You felt like you were going to puke any moment. Why on Earth did you decide to transfer to an all-boys school? It was like the whole school were a men’s room filled with stupid-ass guys, and you were locked inside, forced to listen them talk junk.

"You'd fuck a sheep, weirdo. Go get yourself a girlfriend if you can’t stop thinking with your dick.”

Laughing, the guy left, and his friend followed him, shouting something stupid while you breathed out a sigh of relief. Of course, you knew there would be some talk, but you didn’t expect it to be so... gross. Were you really gonna spend the two remaining years here?

Watching you getting frustrated, Peter gently touched you by the arm and said softly, “Don’t worry. They won’t talk rubbish about you.”

“What do you mean?” Suddenly thinking of Steve’s words, you blurted out exactly what you were thinking of the whole day, “Are you going to blackmail them with something?”

“I... what?”

Part VII

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #peter parker x reader #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark loki #dark peter parker #dark thor #yandere

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wtfreya-briar · 11 months ago

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Sweet. Like a Lady. Like a Seelie girl tottering about in her stupid shoes. A tree, like Harland. Steady, and stuck. Freya had always been petite for a Wolf, but she'd always known how to be big despite that. Those intimidating airs and graces, the people in Wisteria read them the wrong way, as a show of agression and not an armor against it.

So she'd been trying to be less so, for the sake of inspiring less negative reactions. And now she was sweet. And happy... Freya scowled across at him. "I am not sweet." She protested, not sure what to say on the rest, "...And you know how things have been, happy is hardly the emtion of the moment."

Happy was fleeting. Happy was the adrenaline of a face off with the foxes still coursing through her veins when Eddie kissed her.

Apparently Robin is thinking similarly enough, and Freya suddenly feels she is getting her retribution for prodding at Rye all those years to get with him. She smiles for a moment before it can be helped, then shakes her head. "He's not my anything." She protests, perhaps a bit too strongly, preying to celestials her cheeks aren't red, "and he could be anywhere. The Den, I'd suppose. Why go find him, am I not entertainment enough?" She hoped that would make for a good enough topic-- it wasn't as if Robin knew anything. Right?

She shakes her head, "I don't think I'm good at those ways, could we not talk out loud? I like the speaking." Freya squeezes his arm with hers as they walk, "Wolves are good like that. And I'm glad to see you too, it's been a bit lonely aorund here. Or- people have been here more for other matters, rather than just to socialize." Except Eddie, who had been here only to see her. "I know how Rye feels, I miss them too."

@wtfreya-briar

“No, no,” Robin says, glamored face frowning, tucking his brown down toward his nose, wrinkling it. “Different. You look…happy. Sweet, like a tree.”

Like father, like daughter, yes. Both trees, both growing.

Strong, steady.

Briars.

“Busy? Yes, I suppose,” Robin agrees, nodding, but then he tilts his head, in that way of his, that he has, a sly little grin on his face. “And where has your music gone? Where is he? Shall I go find him?” Or anyone to be happy for, it was Freya. Edmund was a good faerie, kind and soft and sweet to temper her Wolf edge, the bite of her teeth. Robin knew, just as well, that Harland liked the skittish little bard as much as he was able, given that Edmund was courting his daughter.

A little laugh escapes and Robin shrugs. “There are ways, sapling, to speak without speaking, to know without needing to be known.” Robin hops over a tree branch then another, landing lightly beside her and gripping her upper arm tight with a hand, looping them together. “I am glad, to see you. That this face reminds you of home. It is for Rye. He…misses them, sometimes, but he…the Wolves kept Ro - me safe when h - I was kept.”

#robin

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mothergayselle · 3 years ago

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Cold Snap Smooches -- Shall We Date? Obey Me! (MC x Demon Brothers)

rating: T-M words: 9k summary: if Freya is the only one who can warm up the dumb demons (& angels), then so friggin' be it. for time's sake however, she would just have to kiss ALL of them. {based on the Cold Snap event.}

A/N: this is pretty long! pls read on AO3 lmao

read on AO3

Right. So… firing them up. Alone. That was to be her job for the day.

Eh.

There were worse assignments in the world.

The curves of Leviathan’s hands twitched inside his pockets. It was what she’d expected, of course, but still, Freya knew that he would take some consoling before allowing her anywhere too close.

As if in synchronization with her thoughts, his face twisted, the grimace echoing his physical discomfort while Freya’s gaze locked in on his.

“It’s just,” he mumbled, “This kind of thing’s really embarrassing for me.”

Difficult he may be at times, she couldn’t stop the smirk crawling onto her mouth.

Levi blanched. Blush rapidly began pooling in his cheeks. “Um! Not that I was hoping for any dating-sim-like developments or anything!”

“Of course not,” Freya retorted, tone thick with scorn. She crossed her arms, completely unimpressed, and his eyes bulged in place. The amusement nearly reverberated off of her in pulses. “How silly that would be, huh?”

His agony was endearing, but Levi’d been right. This – warming up the respective demons – in public would be a terrible idea. The end of everything, in fact. The entire apocalypse, tipped over by a band of idiots who would single-handedly decimate RAD and the entire school campus and probably even the Devildom amidst their temper tantrums.

Freya stifled a sigh. So much work to do. So little time. So little energy.

He stiffened at the sudden change in posture. “I’d be perfectly happy if you could just say something inspiring!” he sputtered at once.

The cerulean brilliance of his room seeped into his skin, highlighting the ivory hue in its ethereal glow. He looked like a mer-prince, the thick locks of his azure hair scattered about the angles of his face.

He was handsome. And ridiculous. And a little exhausting.

The long exhale once restrained now poured forth, and Freya stepped forward, disregarding the way he abruptly stiffened. She stepped onto her toes and tilted her jaw at just the right angle.

Their lips touched briefly. Although Levi’s instinct was to freeze, there was an eventual deepening of pressure as he tentatively leaned into the kiss. It was a sweet gesture and gentle, and Freya inhibited her usual intensity she’d favor with a sentiment that was much more delicate. He was a doe-eyed softy, and she would oblige that fact.

When she extracted herself, Levi inevitably floundered, covering his face in panic. Freya, remaining patient, was content to wait until the otaku could bring himself to look at her once more.

“I feel, like…” he stammered, one hand still obscuring the lower half of his visage, “Really warm?”

“Well, I would hope so,” she replied. “I’m trying to keep you alive. Not give you a heart attack.” She kneaded a hand through her long, raven hair, flicking a few, stray locks of it behind her shoulders.

Levi’s face smoothed out. “This just proves that you’ll be able to warm up the others too.” He grinned, and now his hands twitched not with anxiety but anticipation. The enthusiasm was novel and good for him, and very much appreciated.

He raised a fist in the air, saluting a general before they scampered off to war. “Go on, Freya!” he exclaimed. “You’re their only hope!”

This time, a sigh arose deep in the confines of her chest and Freya did nothing to silence the gesture. The breath left her in a torrent, grating the inside of her esophagus and permeating the air around them with what was clearly vexation. The smile on Levi’s face faltered for the quickest of moments, but with effort, he managed to keep it in place.

She flashed him a thumbs-up, but it was too quick and violent to look natural.

“Oh, goodie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Belphegor was easier. She could count on him to keep calm. He would need minimal consolation after any display of care, and for that, she was at the very least, grateful.

The shaggy expanse of his multi-toned hair was dispersed unevenly across his forehead and face. He made no move to tidy the strands together. “Thanks for coming, Freya,” he said, “But you’re too late. I’ve already started turning to ice.”

Yeah, yeah. His melodrama was easily ignorable as Freya entered the attic. It felt relatively warm to her human body.

Belphie, meanwhile, lay sprawled on the sofa-bed, surrounded by all of the blankets in visible sight. Pillows were stacked on top of each limb, making him look like a rag-doll strangled and then half-haphazardly thrown to the ground.

He continued speaking as she approached, oblivious to the mindlessness of her strides. “It’s gotten really hard to move my fingers, too,” he said pathetically. “It sucks that you’re so close, but I can’t touch you.”

Freya stopped short of the bed and peered down at the demon. He looked absolutely miserable, tormented by the clear desire to sleep and yet too frozen to do so.

It was a hard life.

“Suck it up, princess. I have other things to do, you know.”

She stooped, her long hair spilling over Belphegor’s cheeks, and pressed their mouths together briefly before straightening out again. His relief was instantaneous and resplendent, each eyebrow slack and lowered in gratitude.

“Your kisses are amazing, Freya. I can feel myself warming up from the inside out.” Belphie flexed his arms as if to prove so, and Freya nodded, her eyebrows not relaxed in place, but rather raised high upon her forehead.

Gingerly, he drew himself upright on the bed, the behemoth mix of pillows and blankets undulating in one, great mass. His violet eyes heated and swam with adoration. “Maybe I should get cold more often.”

“Go ahead and try it,” she crooned, winking once before spinning on her heel. “I’m still mad at you for last semester, you know. I wouldn’t test the limits of my kindness.”

The audible sound of Belphegor’s sharp inhale cracked throughout the attic. “Oh, come on! How long are you going to hold that over my head, Freya?”

She called out the rest of her answer to the wooded, quiet air and began striding away.

“Not sure. But for holding a grudge, my lifespan is much more feasible than yours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I saw Levi’s text,” Asmodeus chuckled. “He was gushing about how much warmer you’d made him feel.”

Freya breathed in deeply, savoring the apple-rose scent which eternally perfumed the demon’s room. If she could, she’d have evicted Asmo from the premises immediately, favoring this space above all others… although her room did feel superior in the ways that mattered.

For one, there was a new, magical lock on her door that she’d installed with the help of Solomon. As it was sensitive only to her arcane signature, there were to be no more late-night interruptions unless she ordained it.

Most of the time however, she kept her bedroom unlocked, though she would never admit how much fun she often did have with the demons who dared to wake her. Still, it was a perk and relevant only to her space, so for now… Asmodeus was safe.

She felt a vine of regret at the wounded look on his face. Blegh. Why had she agreed to this?

“You’re going to help me too, right!?” he demanded. A frown had crumpled the joyful expression on his face, demolishing it until nothing was left except for the performed anguish of a needy, whiny, gorgeous creature.

“If this cold, dry weather continues, my days as a beauty are numbered!”

Freya huffed in exasperation, her shoulders sagging with the weight of the day. “Why are all of you so damn helpless?” She closed the distance between them and casually brushed the back of her hand across his cheek.

“Hm?” she pressed, and Asmo shrugged in reply, turning into her touch. He’d been right before. No matter how frozen he was, he still looked as beautiful as he normally did. Though, without the natural blush accompanying all of the right lines of his alabaster complexion.

This new, feeble aura roiled off him in waves until Freya inclined her face. Asmo accepted the kiss eagerly, and far more confidently than the previous two brothers. His amber-colored eyes were dazzling with renewed intensity. It was obvious he felt better.

“I can’t believe how much warmer I feel already,” he moaned. Then, the woeful atmosphere surrounding him vanished altogether, and a slice of light stormed into his visage as he regarded her. Despite the suspicion narrowing the angles of her features.

“I told you not to hold back, but what about me? Can I keep kissing you until I’m satisfied?”

There was a moment of silence as she stared down the Avatar of Lust.

Asmodeus’s gaze however, never faltered. He waggled his eyebrows at her. Shameless.

“Is that a yes?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simeon, meanwhile, was a respite. A calm, soft, cumulus cloud drifting languidly in the House’s lowly-lit lounge. His usual brown skin was visibly pale, seeming bleached of vitality despite being nestled so closely to the fireplace.

He looked pensive where he sat. The dark atmosphere in the room was so quiet, and she didn’t want to disturb or unnecessarily startle him. Freya scuffed a heel on the hard-wood floor in order to announce her presence.

Simeon’s head turned, and his kind, sapphire eyes regarded Freya thoughtfully. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly confessed. The apology made her face twist in confusion. What was there to be sorry for?

“You’ve made a point of coming to see me,” he explained. “But I can barely move.”

A pearl of concern blossomed in her chest, extending down each nerve until she was filled with a zealous desire to help him. She shuffled over to where he sat, perched on a loveseat close to the mushroomed flames, before kneeling in front of him. A sheepish smile overcame his features, smoothing out the handsome corners of each cheekbone.

“This cold snap is certainly no joke,” he complained. Simeon’s eyes momentarily closed, and Freya felt the pearl in her lungs cleave in two. “I never would have imagined that things would turn out like this.”

“Simeon…”

He shook his head, resigned, it seemed, to wallowing. “If I could move more freely, then I’d be able to aid you. Instead, I’m stuck relying on your goodwill, as usual.”

Ha! That was good.

“Good will?” Freya snorted. She cocked her head at the funny words, and Simeon gazed at her questioningly.

“You think I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart? As if I don’t directly benefit from being the only one who can help everyone?”

A wicked gleam entered her heterochromic eyes, prompting Simeon to smile in response. She could see her own reflection in his bottomless gaze, a conscious vixen once again fixated on her conquests.

Freya slipped her hands over his, willing the warmth of her fingers to leave and instead, expand deep into his flesh. “A kiss should do it, no?” she asked.

Simeon, still frozen cold, flinched. “I…” he stuttered, and his expression dissolved into something tender. “You would? I don’t mind, but…”

And Freya, glowing with permission, took his face in her hands before he could utter another protest. She kissed him as she would kiss the tumbled edge of a wisp-bodied cloud, plunged through with the midday’s sunshine.

He physically thawed in her grasp, and the next breath left his nose heavily. It was warm, and the air washed over her cheeks. Freya couldn’t help but smile under his lips, and she gently pulled back after the wistful moment. Kissing him was one of the easiest things she’s ever done.

“Hm,” he hummed. The gulfs of each azure iris taunted hers, threatening to swallow her up and never let go. If that was how she left this world, then, alas…

Simeon’s eyes dipped to her mouth before settling once again on her face. “It’s like I can read your thoughts through your lips,” he said, voice honey-flavored and level. “And knowing that you think so much of me is…”

Shock, bright and electric, jolted into him as Simeon sat upright.

“Oh! I can move again!”

The smile contenting his face made Freya feel better, if anything else. She sat back on her heels, feeling the concern and the once-hard pearl inside vaporize into nothingness.

Simeon pressed a hand to the back of his neck. “Now that I’ve regained the use of my arms,” he started, gaze flitting around the room as he spoke, “Would you mind if I held you for a while?”

Overflowing with warmth that had nothing to do with her heritage and mysterious invulnerability to the cold snap, Freya wordlessly climbed into the angel’s lap, resting her head against him so that her midnight hair spilled over his heavenly robes.

As he said, he was indeed flushed with heat. “I’m getting a little tired,” she said. “Is it okay if I doze for a few minutes?”

Simeon made a small noise of pleasure in the back of his throat. “Of course,” he soothed. “I would be honored to be your refuge.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as held her close in a snug embrace – a tranquil ocean greeting the morning sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Freya!”

Luke’s voice was a tiny exclamation in the golden antechamber, ricocheting off the massive walls around them.

“Luke!”

She’d wandered into the room, slightly sluggish, but at the sight of Luke bunched up by the colossal, marble hearth, her footsteps gradually accelerated until she found herself racing over to the little angel. So many fireplaces in the House of Lamentation, and yet not even they or their flaming mouths were enough.

“I c-can’t stop sh-sh-shivering!” he yelped. Luke’s lips were nearly white with the icy effects of the cold snap, and alarm, hot and sharp, stabbed through Freya.

“What am I going to do?” His steel-blue eyes were wide with terror, his cheeks, waxy.

“I d-don’t want to f-f-freeze!”

Freya’s reaction was immediate. Bolting forward, she dashed over, clumsily settling beside the golden-haired boy. She opened her arms as wide as she could, her own eyes mirrored and wide in worry.

Her voice was a command. “Come here. I’ll hold you.”

To be honest, Luke didn’t so much crawl into her arms so much as she physically yanked him into them. His skin was chilled, limbs stiff and jerking awkwardly while they heavily settled near the roaring flames in the room’s fireplace.

“There you go.” Freya pressed her cheek to the top of his crown, swaying them both. She wondered if he felt crushed by her tight grip, and then decided that she didn’t care one bit. So long as he got warm again.

“Relax. Take deep breaths. I won’t let you go.”

Eventually, she found that she was humming out loud, although when she began to do that was a mystery. Luke expelled a long breath, the joints in his body forcibly loosening with the motion.

“I feel a lot warmer,” he then mumbled against her shoulder. “And way less anxious, too.”

The rush of relief was powerful as it overtook her. When it came to Luke, Freya felt ferocious. Fueled by sheer willpower alone, she knew that not even a magical, demonic, cold snap could stand in her way of keeping him safe.

She would always protect Luke, no matter the cost. Truthfully, it was almost enough to keep her there for the rest of the night, the others be damned.

Satisfied for the moment, Freya pressed her lips to Luke’s temple, not daring to let go even as he proclaimed his wellness.

“Good. I’ll never let you freeze, kiddo.” To emphasize, Freya squeezed him as tight as she could, feeling the eased, warm breath now whoosh out of him.

“You hear me?” she demanded, burying her face in his hair. “Never, ever, ever, ever!!”

Luke giggled uncontrollably, and his laugh was a silver tinkle jitterbugging all around them. “It almost makes this cold nap seem like just a bad dream,” he coughed out. It was a moment before she was able to reign in the desire to smush him to pieces.

“Good,” she crooned. The fireplace’s light glinted off the fair waves in Luke’s hair. The effect was ethereal, reminiscent of a ball of golden yarn, disheveled after being played with.

Freya reluctantly lessened her hold on him. “You should lay down and rest,” she suggested.

Luke’s expression slanted with curiosity when he looked up at her. “And use my room, okay? I have lots of blankets in there. Maybe Simeon will let us have a sleepover soon.”

Luke nearly gasped in excitement. “Really?” His delight was contagious, and his round cheeks cracked in a grin.

“Wow! It’s almost like you’re my angel, sometimes.”

“Of course I am,” she said, brushing her lips over his soft forehead. “I’m your guardian angel, and I’ll always, always protect you. Got it?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night continued to stretched longer, and Freya could feel its effects. The cold snap leeching away at them was one thing, not to mention the thick, impenetrable sense of urgency which pervaded the entire House of Lamentation.

Although she seemed mostly immune to its magical effects, she was all too susceptible to the fatigue now steadily trickling through her body. She wanted nothing more than to sink into a hot bath and simply cease to exist for a bit. Such an indulgence would have to wait, however, which was not a pleasant thought to entertain.

Freya scowled angrily at the turn in her mind. Thanks to Luke’s guidance, she found Beelzebub in the kitchen – as usual – staring at a bowl of custard and frowning nearly as bitterly as she.

Beel’s shoulders were high and tight in agitation. “Hey, Freya,” he said as she advanced.

She attempted to force a smile for him, but failed. “Hey, Beel,” she answered in greeting. “How are you doing?”

When Beelzebub clutched a wrist in one hand, Freya received her answer. Not good, the gesture read. Not good at all, and I am not happy about it.

“Could you help me?” he pleaded. Hopelessness was etched into every angle of his earnest face, and his multi-hued eyes were downcast with clear misery. “Everything’s lost its taste. no matter what it is, none of it tastes good.”

Heaven forbid he should go without dinner for one night – much like she had, in fact.

Regardless, the sincerity in his expression was impossible to refute. “That’s because of the snap, Beel. “

A kiss would fill you up more,” she said, plainly stalking over to where he stood. Similarly in tone to he exploits with Levi and Belphegor, Freya slowly – and informally – joined their lips together.

The tormented expression hadn’t abated by the time they each pulled back, however. “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

His sorrow was, in addition, the product of a real concern for her. The impact was a sweetness, a spark of affection in her fingertips.

“My lips aren’t too cold, are they?”

Before she could answer though, he’d already glanced away, absorbed in his own distress. “If I froze you, too. I don’t know what I’d do…”

Oh, Beel. So cute. How was she to ever dismiss his endearment for her?

“Your lips were just fine, Beel.” Freya smiled encouragingly at the demon, admiring the way the stove’s flames licked across the warm, tangerine color of his hair. A sentient, coral pyre, perhaps.

“Are you feeling warmer at all?”

A beat passed before he arrived at a conclusion.

“Wow!” And all of the melancholy left him at once. “I don’t feel cold at all now.”

Shocker.

Beel’s adoration was suddenly ardent on his face, illuminating the fuschia in each iris. Tulips swooning in the sunset.

He nearly vibrated with glee. How easy it was to please him!

“That kiss of yours really did fill me up, Freya.”

She didn’t bother attempting to curb the retort bubbling atop the thick of her tongue. “Oh, is that right?” she jested. “It better have been more exciting than the custard. Or I’m taking it back.”

She acquiesced into a laugh directly after he nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please excuse me,” came a melodic, tempered voice. “I would like to pass through.”

Freya peered at the demon incredulously, refusing to move herself from the top of the dining table where she sat cross-legged. She was tired. She was not going to move.

A smirk tugged at Barbatos’s face, his reaction to what was inevitably the detectable defiance on her face.

“Why, whatever is that look for?” he prodded, his voice still a musical harp-string in the wind. “Surely it isn’t so strange for me to be doing a little cleaning.”

Her eyelids were too heavy to keep open all the way. She felt them sink half-way closed.

“Seriously?”

“We were in the middle of a party when the cold snap hit,” he furthered, touching a gloved hand to his chin. The frankness in his gaze was charming as usual and completely alluring, but

…seriously?

“It wouldn’t do to leave everything lying about.”

Freya groaned, hanging her head in defeat. He was like the literal manifestation of her current duty. Different obligations of course, but the unmistakable vision of another doing what they felt they were supposed to made her feel like she was going to go comatose.

When she straightened, Barbatos regarded her thoughtfully, one eyebrow sailing to the top of his forehead. His emerald eyes were somehow open and walled off all at once, and Freya braced her hands on the lip of the dark wood of the table, lengthening out and kicking her feet into the air.

“Cleaning can wait,” she declared, her expression becoming more a glare than anything else. She extended one hand, crooking a finger at him. “I know you’re freezing. Now, come here.”

Barbatos pursed his lips in contempt. “Well, that is a rather unexpected request.”

But then he smirked, and Freya stilled as he glanced up at her through the haze of his full, dark lashes, the corners of his eyes curving with a subtle, unbridled desire.

“No matter,” he continued, “I have no qualms about fulfilling your requests.”

Barbatos slowly began rounding the edge of the table, each moss-green eye boring deep into her own. The lithe fluidity of his movements were eerily similar to that of a large cat, slinking its way through a savannah as it stalked their prey.

“Or rather,” he murmured, “I would very much like to kiss you myself.”

She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to.

God. He was so dangerous. Barbatos remained a perpetual mystery to Freya, and although they had not shared as many moments together as she had with some of the other demons, the alone time she had spent with the butler had always been charged with a… special kind of intimacy. Like he was a thing to crack open and consume, rather than an ember waiting to spark aflame.

Suddenly, Freya felt as if she were the conquest, the newly-shined trophy to grasp close and admire.

It occurred to her in the slimmest corner of her mind, that should he seek to, Barbatos could very well be her undoing.

Whether he exacted this power was still to be determined, but there was something in the way the blood raced in her veins which had her feeling on the edge of a gaping precipice. Like she was a vapor of smoke waiting to be snuffed out.

Barbatos was deliberate as he reached out to her, cradling her face in the white, soft fabric of his gloves. The texture was like silk, and his gaze never left her face even as he closed in.

Freya, unconsciously bowing forward, parted her lips for the demon. He, being the gentleman as always, acquiesced, allowing their slackened mouths to meet.

Whether his lips were cold or not was indiscernible. The only sensation cognizantly available to her was of the careful way he held himself above her, of his nose skimming along the rise of her cheek.

The kiss was over before she’d registered his extraction. What did she look like to him? Her eyelids felt more leaden than before, every muscle in them straining to keep themselves alert. Amusement lingered in his eyes.

He had her whipped, and he knew it.

“Well,” he began, smiling politely at her, “It’s almost shocking how much better I feel. It makes the previous chill seem nothing but a dim memory.”

… Uh-huh.

Barbatos chuckled in delight. “Thank you, Freya. That will make tidying up infinitely easier.”

And just like that, the spell was broken.

She caught herself scowling at the man, her brow furrowed with irritation for the incessant way he always needed to be not paying attention to her.

“Why can’t you just rest for once in your life?” she mumbled resentfully.

“Hm?” he replied, bringing his bottomless gaze straight to hers. She stifled a shiver. “Did you say something?” Barbatos’s gaze was inquiring. And somewhat accusing.

Ah, whatever. The night wasn’t done just yet anyway.

Freya flushed with chagrin. “Nothing,” she said louder than before. “And you’re welcome.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time she found herself skulking into Satan’s room, Freya was physically lumpish, her heels unintentionally skimming the ground with every footfall.

As usual, she found him lingering in front of a bookcase, scanning the titles with listless attention. Honestly, Freya enjoyed books as much as anyone, but the limitless, hordes of titles around them never failed to fill her with anxiety. Satan needed to clean his room, but she knew that he would rather die than throw out a single book in his possession.

He turned at the sound of the door closing, the blank, concentrated expression he wore sweetening with joy.

“I had a feeling it was about time for you to be making an appearance,” he announced, scoffing casually into the air. However, his face then went smooth.

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

Freya stopped short, green and black eyes widening in surprise. Huh.

Ambushed by such a compliment, she momentarily blew air into her cheeks. “Well, that was certainly nice of you,” she replied.

Satan made a noise of protest. “I’m always nice to you.” He momentarily cast his gaze away from her. “But there’s so much more that I must learn, if I ever hope to be of use to anyone.”

Of course he would think that. Satan, Avatar of Wrath, always yearning to be of service, to somehow prove himself worthy to take up the space he naturally did, with his intelligence and wit and unending need to cause trouble for his brothers.

Satan eyed her solemnly as she narrowed her eyes at the ridiculous sentiment. “You’re plenty of use already,” she complained, her timbre nearly a growl.

His arms reacted instinctively, snaking around her waist even as she reached for them. Freya mumbled something else incoherently, the olive-toned sweater he wore muffling all intelligible words, and then, “You’re so dumb.”

He was cold and his body felt stiff with the blizzard’s magic, but she inclined her head, pecking him gently on his neck, jaw, and chin before affectionately settling on his lips.

“All of you are so fucking dumb,” she said under his warm, soft mouth.

Satan snickered appreciatively, gliding each hand over her spine. “Well, now, that’s just mean.”

“I am mean. It’s why you love me.”

“True,” he sighed. He averted his gaze from her, though she still gazed at him. Freya wore her smugness very well, and Satan knew it. A violent crimson began swirling around in his face at the scrutiny.

“It always feels like you have the upper hand,” he started, and then an odd, resigned laugh was ripped out of him. Freya felt equally as nourished and heated at the sound.

“Still, it’s strange. It doesn’t bother me that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

His forest-green eyes, so much lighter than Barbatos’s, shimmered with fervor. Contrasted with the blush in his skin and the bright gold of his hair, Satan was a gentle, spring day, washed anew with curtains of fresh flowers.

“Would you… mind kissing me again?” he asked. A slight apprehension appeared at the corner of each brow. “Not to spare me from the cold, but because you genuinely want me.”

Freya was a sucker when he got like this. Satan was alluring on his own, but when his shyness overcame the usual swagger he liked to front so often – and perhaps it was the fact that he could be vulnerable with her in the first place – she was putty in his reticent, unsuspecting hands.

“Of course I want you,” she said.

Freya readily fastened each arm around his neck, sifting her fingertips through the long, metallic shine of his hair. Satan’s subsequent smile was filled with adoration. He shifted a hand from her spine, instead tracing the wing of a shoulder-blade.

Satan cocked his head, wondering. “Even though I’m dumb?”

Freya nodded. She spoke between each kiss, her voice low and confident. “Mhm,” she breathed. “Dumb, and idiotic, and stupid, and helpless, and incompetent.”

“How impudent of you.” He bit at her lower lip, prompting her to grin in response.

“But do go on, my darling.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Freya found Diavolo in the music room, perched on the side of the water-fountain. Dignified and graceful as he was, even the Young Lord resembled a wilted rose, crested in royalty and power and splendor and yet so forlorn with his own powerlessness.

“Oh, Diavolo,” she called out, smiling at him encouragingly from across the gilded room. “Don’t look so sad! You’ll break my black, twisted heart into pieces.”

For a moment, he returned the smile. “How black could your heart truly be, Freya? Aren’t you, in fact, here to help?”

She shrugged. “Touche.”

The pleasant expression on his face then dissolved into something much like regret. Diavolo flung his gaze to the ground.

“I really did feel this was too much work for you to take on alone,” he said, spreading his hands out in supplication. The dark polish on his nails flashed in the room’s sparse candlelight.

His gold eyes burned and were molten with the clear desire to feel useful. “I’m not in any condition to walk about, however.”

Yes, that was evident. Diavolo, despite maintaining his noble beauty, sat almost unmoving atop the fountain. By now, due to the cold snap, he must feel absolutely hypothermic.

Freya sank into a casual position beside him, slowly taking one of his hands in hers.

His face instantly softened in gratitude. “I’m also glad that Leviathan made a point of requesting privacy,” he said, weakly squeezing her hand in return. “I would much rather that no one saw me like this.”

A pang of sympathy rang through her. Freya opened her mouth to call him an idiot, but forced the words back down her throat. Diavolo saw this, and courteously made no comment on the matter. He could probably guess the direction of her thoughts, at any rate.

“And if I’m being honest,” he continued, forehead tensing with shame, “That includes you, too.”

The impulse to insult him arose once more, and Freya nearly hummed with the difficult desire to lighten the mood by way of teasing. She harbored no love for authority – and especially the all encompassing kind – but Diavolo had more than earned her respect. It would do well to show him at least that.

Slightly nervous, Freya leaned into the small space resting between their bodies. Diavolo’s gaze twitched once to her lips, and then back up to her own eyes. A flash of heat rippled into her hands.

“I don’t know what it’s like to bear the burden of a crown,” she admitted, cocking her head at the absurd thought. Freya? A queen? Ridiculous.

“But should you ever want to pretend that you’re just a normal person with me, I promise not to tell anyone.”

Diavolo’s chest inflated in surprise. His eyes roamed wonderingly, drinking in every detail of her face, it seemed. The deep gold in his eyes flared with sentiment, and she felt a sliver of fondness radiate from deep within him, slithering all over until it had infected her own body.

He said nothing, but merely held still while Freya angled forward. Their lips met with a gentility which was absent from her kisses with the other demons. In response to the unfamiliar, cautious sensation, a swarm of butterflies abruptly assailed the depths of her belly.

Diavolo was soft and tender and warm all on his own. The first rays of sunlight in the human world, just before the sun crescendoed. A single daisy unfolding in the wind. The clean smell of snow melting into the Earth’s rich soil.

Freya withdrew slowly. All traces of his previous despair were gone. Together, they shared a timid smile.

“Your feelings for me couldn’t be any clearer,” he said. Diavolo’s smile split open, until his entire countenance glowed with the grin. “And thanks to that, I feel warm all the way through.”

There was no witty, irreverent comeback which presented itself in response. Freya swallowed, forcing herself to meet his enamored gaze.

“I’m glad. I can’t have the future Demon King feeling too sorry for himself. It’s unbecoming of you. You’re far too handsome for that.”

Unexpectedly, his olive-toned skin filled with new color. He absently bit at his lip – a gesture she’d never seen before.

“Hm,” he began. Hesitantly, he continued speaking in a quiet, awed voice. “I know that I no longer have a decent excuse to kiss you, but…” Diavolo smiled kindly at her.

“Could I trouble you for just one more?”

Freya blushed nervously. “I still can’t believe I’m allowed to kiss you,” she sheepishly replied. Diavolo raised an eyebrow in question.

“You, being the actual devil.”

Diavolo laughed sharply, and she froze, unsure of his reaction. “And I mean that lovingly, of course,” she said. “But, geez. Talk about jarring. I half-expect Barbatos to bust out of the walls every time we kiss just to pull me off of you.”

That only made him laugh harder. “Oh, Barbatos would never do that. I would be… incredibly upset by such a disturbance. He’d blame himself for my ire well into the next century.”

“That… is terrifying, Diavolo.”

He pressed his lips together. “Oops. Sorry.”

Freya shook her head in defeat, raven tresses of hair tickling her cheeks. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to kissing a king,” she said, glancing at him awkwardly. “But, as long as I’m allowed to…”

Shock crossed Diavolo’s face as she scooted herself flush up against him. Their breaths hitched together, and Freya felt the air exchange in her chest halt altogether when he pressed a hand to her cheek. His palm was tame, and swirling with heat. The musical intonations of the water-fountain tinkled in the background.

“You’re allowed,” he murmured, eyelids fluttering closed. “You’re always allowed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile… this particular demon’s scream was audible even through his door.

“Gaaaaaah! Why’s it s-so flippin’ cold!”

This was really getting old. Freya grunted in disgust, kicking in the door to Mammon’s bedroom with utter disregard. The wood connected with the wall explosively, and the sound was like cannonfire.

Mammon jumped in place, head cracking to the side to see who had so violently intruded. “...H-huh!? Oh, it’s just you!”

Her upper lip curled of its own accord. “Just me?” She nudged the door behind her closed once more and began stalking over to the frost-haired demon. “You’re the absolute worst.”

Mammon rolled his eyes at her. “Wh-why’re you… s-s-so late!? I should’ve been f-f-first, ya hear!?” The sound of his teeth repeatedly clicking filled the absence his voice left behind, and Freya felt herself wanting to smile at his discomfort.

She stopped before him, staring at his face with a silent accusation. Her outrage abated somewhat at their eye contact. His cobalt-tawny eyes were too adorable to hate, even if he was annoying.

“My fingertips’re a-a-already… turnin’ to i-i-ice,'' he chattered with difficulty. Mammon awkwardly raised his hands to show her. His face paled even further at how rigid they were.

“Man, I’m a g-g-goner.”

Drama queen.

The slightly spiced scent of his clothes sifted into her nostrils. The aroma was pleasing, a light mix of earth-based and dark tones. She was drained of energy, and practically incapable of bullying him the way she usually did when he was being stupid.

Freya sprung, casually flinging him backwards until he expertly landed onto the black, leather sofa behind where they’d stood. Confusion fissured his expression, and the breath left him all at once as his shoulder blades collided with the plush, worn-in cushions.

Dazed, his eyes blankly registered her nestledm on top of him.

“Hey! Ya c-crazy human. W-w-what do you t-think… you’re d-d-doin’!?”

“Saving your dumb ass from freezing, idiot.”

Freya then bent forward, fusing her mouth to his. His lips were unyielding with shock, but soon relented, and his entire body loosened in her hold. Mammon harrumphed, unwillingly releasing a groan of relief.

“... What’d ya go and do that for!?” he demanded in the aftermath. Freya calmly glared at his performative defiance, waiting patiently as he expelled the tantrum out of his system.

Mammon’s snow-white hair laid in chaotic pieces around his forehead. “Geez,” he mumbled. “You’ll really just do whatever darin’ thing pops into your head, huh?”

They exchanged a glance, and Freya’s eyebrows jumped to the top of her forehead.

“You’re just realizing that now?”

She could feel the new heat illuminating his body beneath her. He seemed to register it at the same time, because a simple grin smoothed across his face in response.

“Whooooa!” he exclaimed, tensing each limb. “I can move my fingers again, too! Freya! You’re amazin’!”

Another sound was pulled out of him when she took his stupid face in her hands and kissed him over and over again.

“Damn straight.” Her black hair mixed with the vivid, pearly effervescence of his own.

Mammon wrapped his arms around her, flattening their chests together as he responded to the affectionate assault with his own fervent kisses.

“Mmph,” he breathed. “That’s my human, all right.” His fresh enthusiasm, despite her fatigue, caused her to smile.

“Always comin’ through for The Great Mammon, even if ya are late sometimes.”

Freya narrowed her eyes. Trepidation tinged the smile he wore, but he maintained the gesture, and eventually, she surrendered to his audacity. She pressed another kiss to his lips.

“Like I said. You are the absolute worst.” Freya sighed, and kissed the part of his forehead which remained exposed. “But I love you anyway.”

Mammon’s mouth momentarily paused in embarrassment. “... Ya better.” She hummed in weariness, in serenity, in the ocean of physical warmth washing over her…

until Mammon suddenly jerked away, glowering at her with an avid air of wrongdoing.

She cocked her head, confused.

“... Wait,” he griped, resentment seeping into his face. The sapphire in his gaze hardened into periwinkle ice-chips.

“How’d you go about warmin’ everyone else up?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The glow of the library’s fireplace skipped along the room’s walls, twirling ribbons of light across each shadowy space. The lowlight exemplified the delicate hue of his skin, the pale silvery-white of his hair… even his gray eyes looked bleach of all color, glimmering out the confines of a watery basin.

Solomon gave a rueful smile when he spotted Freya wandering in. The room felt somewhat chilled, as if the air was charged with ice crystals that sapped all vitality.

She attempted to return the smile, but gave up halfway through. She was not in a smiling mood today.

“Well done, Freya,” he congratulated. Solomon cupped his chin with a hand, a signature gesture for whenever he was deep in thought. “Thanks to you, everyone will live to see another day.”

The smile was promptly replaced with a frown, deepening the shadows in his face.

“... is what I’d like to say, but I’m not doing so great myself. Honestly, I can’t quite believe it,” he said, face overflowing with an cliff of contemplation.

“I figured I was holding it together, but now I’m shaking like a leaf.”

Freya said nothing, and she pandered up to the human, grabbing a fistful of his black robes.

She tugged, pulling him in, and observed the cold single-handedly seep out of him, leaving him melted against her. His visage was illuminated with raw joy.

“How perfect. I wanted to kiss you, too.”

Still, there wasn’t a trace of uncertainty in his face, and Freya – for what was perhaps the thousandth time – what were the true thoughts which ran through his mind.

“I can’t believe I actually did stop shivering, though.”

“So, I’ve been told.”

A slight stress-mark bunched up the bit of skin between his eyebrows, though he refrained from making a comment on her sarcasm.

“Did your kiss have some kind of special effect? Or is it because you’re special to me?”

Solomon regarded her pleasantly, as if she was a cool, liquid balm in the dry throat of a traveler. “... You’ll have to kiss me again. For science.”

It was only his wit that redeemed him. Blasted with a lack of energy, and fraught with the desire to be taken care of, Freya unwillingly allowed a smirk – not quite a smile – to cross her face before inclining her jaw at just the right moment.

Solomon, knowing he’d bested her, grinned in triumph. He slipped a hand into the mass of her midnight hair. Goosebumps immediately arose on her neck.

Completely resigned, and more overworked than she was used to being, Freya allowed Solomon to envelop them in a cocoon of fresh warmth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

… And that was it.

She was done. She was so done. Freya had had enough of this goddamn day, and as she straggled into the dark, comforting confines of Lucifer’s room, a forceful scowl remained plastered onto her face. Let the goddamn demons freeze. She had played her part.

Now she was cold, succumbing to the effects of the Devildom’s magical blizzard.

Lucifer took one look at her before grinning apologetically.

“If the incessant texts that I’ve been getting are any indication, I take it that things have mostly gone back to normal,” he started, extending one hand in her direction.

Freya grumbled incoherently in reply, ignoring his hand altogether and walking straight into his frozen chest. Lucifer’s arms came to hold her by instinct.

He sighed, now regretful. “The House of Lamentation will be a perpetual source of noise once more.”

His hands stroked her back, her neck, the soft skin at the nape of her neck. Comfort flooded into her physical form, but her mind remained fully depleted, barely capable of digesting any of this conversation.

“Joy,” she retorted.

A chuckle pulsed through him, jarring her as well. “... Well,” he said. “That’s for the best. I’m glad to hear that everyone is safe.”

Yeah. And they owed her. They owed her big time.

Lucifer kissed the top of her head. A bonfire exploded where his lips touched her hair. “I’m sure the others have already said as much, but you have our thanks,” he murmured near her ear.

“You can thank me right now,” she grumbled. Freya tilted her face up, gazing adoringly – and expectantly – into his dark, carnelian eyes.

Delight flashed over each iris. “If that’s what you want,” he purred, “Then I shall oblige.”

Fulfillment, in its totality, saturated her entire being. Their mouths moved in perfect harmony, and he tasted of home and of love and longing, even though he remained right there in front of her. She would always long for him, no matter the distance, despite every singular moment they spent together.

An empty kind of bliss filled the slight space between them after parting. “Will that do?” he prompted, eyebrows drawing low on his face.

His body felt flush with renewed health, and the lazy, familiar way he embraced her felt charged with desire. “Because it isn’t nearly enough for me.”

“Hmph. Tease.” Freya grinned, eyes slack with lethargy, and playfully pushed the towering demon away.

Lucifer scowled. His head tipped back with defeat, and he shook it side to side, as if experiencing a rare revelation.

“Ah,” he groaned. “I get it now! This is exactly what it means to get fired up about something.”

And, indeed, there was a passion churning within him that was palpable. The craving was written all over his face, the way his hands flexed in anticipation… even in the coy smile he gave her, with one side pulling up higher than the other.

She was already resigned. There was no resisting the man, no matter how much her utter lack of energy yelled at her.

Freya, holding his gaze, slipped off her dark, cropped hoodie. Tossing it to the ground, she then wiggled out of her long-sleeve shirt, noting the way Lucifer’s hungry expression remained transfixed on her every motion.

Wordlessly, after undressing herself, she approached Lucifer. A sole hop onto her toes propelled her where she needed to go and Lucifer caught her easily, holding Freya as she wrapped her arms and legs around his body.

“Carry me,” she sighed, belabored by the tedious day. Her bare skin and bra gently chafed against his silk vest, although the sensation itself was pleasant on her skin. “I’m too tired to walk.”

A deep rumble of laughter permeated throughout Lucifer’s chest. “Of course, Master.”

Her eyes crinkled with the nickname Lucifer rarely used for her. It was a sacred thing. A litany. A prayer. Something only he could give to her in secret and a thing only she was able to accept.

Lucifer began moving to the grand expanse of his bed with Freya in his arms. Her nose grazed the long line of his neck and she breathed in the scent of the sun, of everything warm and real.

He did not drop her unceremoniously onto the mattress, but tenderly, until he moved as well and then languidly covered her body with his own. Exhaustion pulled her eyelids down, and she smiled impishly against his mouth.

“What would you have me do now?” he whispered, his tongue lightly tracing along her jaw. “How would you like me to best express my appreciation for you?”

Stabs of light and thunder roiled under her skin, flushing it until her flesh felt as if it would burst. Freya chuckled happily, tilting her face up to give him further access.

“You can start with a full body massage,” she answered, “Followed by tea.”

The incredulous look on his face as Lucifer reared back prompted Freya to laugh even harder.

One eyebrow sailed in protest. “A massage, ‘followed by tea’?” He stared deep into her eyes. The burgundy there unfurled with a deep, probing curiosity.

“That’s all?”

Hm. When he looked at her like that, it was much more difficult to think lucidly.

Freya allowed her hands to travel along the fine silk of his vest, gathering her fingers at the buttons laced together in the front. She tugged at them, and Lucifer’s gaze followed suit, until he looked at her once more, through the thick haze of his lashes. The effect it gave was… impressive.

“My wish is your command, right?” she teased, tugging the top buttons free. “I may find it in my heart to reward you afterwards… if you behave.”

A thick, impenetrable sense of voracity stormed into the space around them as they spent the next moment staring the other down. Eventually, Lucifer acquiesced, swallowing down whatever witty retort which had clearly risen to the surface.

He grabbed hold of her and yanked her up until their chests were flush together. Freya pushed the vest from his shoulders, and grinned as his hands deftly found her belt. He removed it in one, sharp tug.

“Well, then,” he said, a wicked, wicked grin brightening his face, “I look forward to your inevitable kindness.”

WIthout warning, Lucifer had flipped her, and Freya’s stomach met the mattress with an oomph!

The pressure of his waist and thighs suddenly appeared on her hips, and at once, warm, dexterous hands began kneading the tight knots in each shoulder. A full noise of pleasure slipped out of her.

“Bless you,” she groaned. His palms connected with a particularly formatted knot, and Freya buried her face into the divine, cloud-like bed-sheets. “Ugh. You’re off to a really good start.”

His hands meticulously kneaded her the muscles in her back, but they gradually began to slow, and Freya’s body was a wordless question mark, pulsating at the demon atop her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked him.

The inquiry seemed to bring him back into awareness. The rhythm of his fingers increased, pressing lazy circles deep into the tissue.

“Out of curiosity, how many of the others did you fire up?”

Uh-oh.

“Ummm,” she started.

Lucifer’s interest was a tangible, violent landslide she could feel from beneath his glorious body.

Oh well! He asked for it. Freya sighed, too drained to formulate any mischievous remark.

“Every single one of them.”

There was an instant that became frozen in time. Uncertainty danced into view, and despite her discomforting acknowledgement, there was also a curiosity to see how he would respond. It was no secret a few flirtations existed between she and some of the other brothers, but it also wasn’t a subject frequently brought to life just for the hell of it.

So, it was entirely unexpected when the bedroom was subsequently filled with the booming, staccato-deep undulations of his laughter. Freya found herself beaming at the sound, infected by the rich timbre of his voice. It was a bit before he could calm himself down to speak.

“Those poor bastards,” he chuckled, and his hands practically leaped over her skin. She felt his lips touch the nape of her exposed neck. “They’ve never stood a single chance in Hell.”

Hmph. True.

She hummed low in her throat again, and extended the lines of her elbow and wrist. “That doesn’t bother you?”

He didn’t need to think over his answer. “Not particularly. No matter who you choose to spend time with, you’re still mine.” The hands on her shoulder blades twitched.

“As long you know it, and as long as they know it, what more could possibly upset me?”

She had to admit, he had a point. But still, his confidence was hot in her body and full. He clearly wasn’t the Avatar of Pride for nothing. A thrill rushed through her at these thoughts.

“That’s… very generous of you,” she decided. “And attractive. You’re kind of the best, you know.”

“Hm,” he grumbled cheerfully. “Of course I am.” A whirlwind of butterfly kisses along her spine.

“Now, take your pants off,” Lucifer commanded. A tinge of darkness twirled along the edges of his voice. Suddenly, Freya didn’t feel as tired as she did before.

“Time to do the legs.”

#obey me #shall we date? obey me!#writing #fanfiction #mc x lucifer #mc x satan #mc x mammon #mc x simeon #mc x diavolo #mc x barbatos #mc x beelzebub #mc x belphegor #mc x leviathan #basically everyone lmao

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katzkinder · 3 years ago

Text

Strawberry Madeleine

Tsurugi used to use Mikuni’s old uniform as pajamas.

He’s aware of how pathetic it is. How it sounds. How it probably would have been more subtle to shout that he missed him through a megaphone, for all of Tokyo to hear.

Of course, it doesn’t smell like his old roommate anymore. It hasn’t for a long time, especially not after having been washed and given to Mahiru to run around in for a whole week, over a year ago now. Especially not after it needed to be bleached, and deep cleaned, because of all the blood and dirt and dust that had been practically ground into the white fibers.

Frankly, it’s a miracle that old thing is still around.

He never expected to get it back, but he did, and he’s only a little ashamed to admit that he held it the same way someone would hold a cherished stuffed toy, inhaling the smell of fabric softener chosen with Kuro’s delicate skin in mind. He had called himself creepy, and Yumikage… Had flicked his forehead. Called him an idiot.

The way he had explained it, it made such perfect sense.

Mikuni... Was a familiar pain, like a bruise that never quite faded and you press your fingers to it just to remind yourself you’ve been hurt.

Yumikage, Junichiro, Freya, Mahiru, and Kuro are a comfort he never thought he deserved, and that old uniform, one of the only few possessions of his that had survived, the new softness of it and the new smell, are proof that whether he deserves them or not… They are his.

Anyone would cherish that, wouldn’t they?

***

One day his phone lights up in the evening twilight.

“I made too much. That offer to join us for dinner is still valid ☀︎”

Attached is a picture of a simmering pot of curry that makes his mouth water so much he nearly drools all down his front. There’s something familiar about it he can’t quite place, but it’s easily ignored and Tsurugi wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, thumbs flying eagerly over the screen.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes ☆” he replies, then, after adjusting his course accordingly, practically skips off down the sidewalk.

Two minutes from his destination, his phone buzzes again.

“I left the door unlocked for you. Come right in!”

Tsurugi... Tries really hard not to cry in the middle of the street as words half remembered while his soul was tangled with Mahiru’s filter back to him.

If the window is shut, we'll just go through the door.

***

Sometimes Tsurugi goes to Mahiru’s house to play.

It’s a childish way to put it, like they’re both in elementary school and he’s showing up at the front door to ask his friend’s uncle if Mahiru is home, but it’s also the only proper way to describe it, because he is playing.

He’s free now, or about as free as he can be with those debts looming over his head, and he wants to play. Kuro, meanwhile, wants to show him lots of different games, so if he has a day off, and the both of them are available… To the Shirota apartment he goes.

It’s always a mess.

Not the apartment, no, never the apartment. He doesn’t think even C3, with its white walls and white floors and white sheets and everything, everything, white, was even half so clean as that little apartment where three people lived.

What’s always a mess is himself.

This time, though… It’s Mahiru.

***

Tsurugi knows he’s a messy person. Tsurugi knows he’s not very good at cleaning up, though he often tries. It’s overwhelming though, sometimes, looking at it all, all the trash and garbage that had accumulated, all the things he didn’t need anymore, didn’t want, and maybe part of the problem was that his mind hardly ever stayed “adult” long enough to make any real headway.

It’s not like anyone went into his room to begin with, anyway, so why bother?

Mahiru, though, is different from him. Mahiru likes to clean up as he goes, so he supposes it shouldn’t be a shock that he gets frustrated with him and with Kuro, who have their little area in front of the TV set up with snacks, and drinks, and piles and piles of games to try out, and a third controller for Mahiru because sometimes instead of watching, Mahiru will join them, tempted by their cajoling and whining and Tsurugi’s bright, high pitched yelps.

This is not one of those times.

This is a time when Mahiru got frustrated and stormed off, and… Well, Tsurugi isn’t quite sure what to do.

A single look at Kuro shows he doesn’t either, wide eyes watching the hall his Eve disappeared down and slowly the umaibo he had been munching on disappears into his mouth.

“Should we… Clean up?” Tsurugi asks, hesitant. Their characters on screen continue to idle, the timer ticking down. Kuro hits pause. Stands, stretches, cracks his back and Tsurugi can’t help but wince because that can’t be healthy…

“...Yeah,” the Servamp finally says, and bends down with a muffled groan to start gathering chip bags and drink containers. “It’ll give him time to cool down.”

“Does this happen often?” Tsurugi stands, too, and casts his eyes about for something to pick up, but there really wasn’t much. Kuro’s already got it handled.

It makes him feel just a little useless.

He was a grown up, wasn’t he? … Wasn’t he?

***

Giving Mahiru space to calm down seems to have been the right choice, because when they find him, curled up on his bed and looking just the slightest bit ashamed of his outburst, he looks ready to apologize at any moment.

But Tsurugi doesn’t want an apology.

He wants Mahiru to come play with them.

So he speaks first, apologizes, sincerely, and promises that he and Kuro will clean up after themselves properly, but when they are done.

“You don’t need to keep everything nice and neat all the time, y’know. Part of being a grown up is knowing when it’s time to play and when it’s time to put your toys up.”

Mahiru makes a face at him, buries his chin deeper into his knees. “Tsurugi-san, no offense, but I don’t wanna hear that from you of all people.”

“Ouch, haha.” He sits, plopping down gracelessly next to the still pouting teen, making him bounce and emit a startled noise, and Kuro shuffles forward, slides down on Mahiru’s other side. “...You’re right, though. I never really learned how to clean up and put my things away all nice and neat like you do. No one ever taught me.”

Mahiru shifts, glances at him curiously. Having seen Tsurugi’s room at C3, he definitely believes it.

“...I guess,” he starts, slow and picking his words carefully. Kuro makes an encouraging noise beside him. “Because I never really felt like the apartment was ‘mine,’ I always ended up cleaning after every little activity. Because having it be messy... Made it feel more lived in than it was.”

“... Mm. That’s exactly it. The illusion of company...” A self deprecating little chuckle. “Guess we both learned to handle that feeling in different ways. If Kuro-chan and I make a mess, we... Might need your help to clean it up properly. But... Can you trust us to clean up when we’re done?”

“... I can try.”

“Good!”

Kuro finally speaks up, because this was a conversation for them, not him. But the moment has passed, and it feels safe to say something a little stupid, a little funny. “We’re serious about the needing your help on how it’s done, thing.”

“Ugh, I believe you. Tsurugi-san, one time I put this guy in charge of loading up the washing machine and you know what happened?”

“Wait, Mahi, no—“

“Ohh, do tell~!”

“Bubbles. Bubbles, everywhere. My downstairs neighbor had no idea where all the suds dripping onto her balcony were coming from!”

“Pfffhahaha! Kuro-chan, seriously?! There are directions on the box!”

“And I followed them. Our washer is small, though, so it was too much...”

Kamiya Tsurugi was an adult.

Shirota Mahiru was a kid.

But, if they could teach each other the things they had missed out on…

Perhaps it was all for that reason, huh...

Tsurugi wonders if Mahiru will be able to make good on that promise for a cake this year.

***

The end of August comes again, and, just like he had hoped, Mahiru bakes him a cake. Covered in glistening, sweet strawberries, with loads of white, sweet cream, it’s almost too much, especially when paired with how Freya and Iduna had come by, are each sitting in Yumikage’s living room while Freya’s subclass play some noisy game with Takuto.

Some part of him didn’t think Mahiru would really do it. But not only did he keep his promise, he’s pressing a wrapped gift into his hand, a small one that rattles when it moves, this grin on his face as Tsurugi turns it over in his hands, this perfectly wrapped gift with yellow paper and citrus themed washi tape keeping it together. Mahiru’s Servamp lingers back, a noisemaker hanging unenthusiastically from between his lips. And yet, despite his carefully practiced indifference, there’s no denying that Kuro is also eager, just as eager as his Eve.

“Go on. Open it.”

So he does. It’s... A cellphone charm. “...Cinnamoroll...?”

Mahiru beams at him and shows off his own phone. Tsurugi snorts, a smile cracking at the sight of the Pompompurin character charm that dangles merrily from it.

“How’d you know my favorite~?”

“I asked around~”

“Thank you, Mahiru-kun,” Tsurugi answers him, feeling his throat close up, just the slightest bit. His eyes sting, and he holds that little charm close to his chest. “I love it.”

It's such a small gift. A tiny one, one perfectly suited to a high schooler’s budget, but it means so much.

Because it didn't have to be given.

Mahiru takes his wrist and leads him back to the core of the party, where they are all immediately mobbed by Tsurugi’s own homegrown family.

Vampires, magicians, humans. Adults, children, immortals.

People his own age. People who aren’t.

Tsurugi is loved.

He’s happy he was born.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #pawprints #tsurugi kamiya #mahiru shirota #happy birthday tsurugi!!!#ao3 version will be up tomorrow

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years ago

Note

need more content of darling with the yandere kids barley see them interact together☹️

Part 1 of wholesome parent darling stuff! Definitely will do a part 2

Warning this contains: talk about self harm, wholesome stuff

Lyric:

lyric was a mystery to you, he was always in his room for hours and hours never letting you in. You never felt more confused about your own child, when did he become so distant.

“Lyric, hey baby?” You cooed out as you stood outside his door, there was a few moments of silence before he opened the door. “Yeah? What’s up?” He said, now holding his camera in his hand.

“What are you up to?” You asked out softly hoping for some kind of answer, lyric looked down nervously trying to decide how he should answer “well I was gonna go out into woods and take some photos, I usually only take photos of the city so I wanna change it up” he said softly.

“Oh? How about we have a picnic then, just me and you!” You cheered out excitedly with a bright smile. Lyric looked at you in confusion before giving a soft nod, you reached out softly ruffling his hair, the contact making him tense up for a brief moment before he relaxed under your touch.

“Go get dressed yeah? We’ll make it a whole day” you said happily, now excited to bond with lyric some more. Lyric watched as you happily walked out a look of discomfort on his face as his gripped his camera

He didn’t deserve your love..he didn’t deserve neither your or zeke’s love, he was a bad kid..so why were you so nice? Lyric sighs before he got dressed, humming as he put cute hair clips you bought him in his hair.

He likes all the things you get him, it made him feel so warm and happy inside. “You ready?” You called out, your response making him perk up as he grabbed his bag and sling it over his shoulder now walking to the door where you stood with the car keys and a basket.

As you two sat on the picnic blanket, lyric laid on his back taking pictures of the sky, you suppose now was a good of time if any to try to get him to open up.

“Hey, lyric?”

“Hmm?”

“Yknow me and dad are here for you, right? No matter what” you said softly, your response making him shudder as he sat up and looked up at you now looking down nervously. “Something is going on with you, I just wish you would talk to me..I know you’re not a baby anymore but you’ll always be my child” you said lovingly.

You were surprised to see tears roll down his cheeks, a sniffling escaping him as he looked at you “I-I’m sorry, all I do is make you and papa stress..I-I wish I could be good, I just want to be good” he cried out, you quickly pulled lyric into a hug as he cried into your chest.

“ oh baby,. You are good. You’re amazing and smart and so talented” you cooed out as you pulled him back now wiping his tears away as he looked at you, for the first time in a while he let his walls down..he actually felt like a normal kid.

Lyric vented to you in ways he hasn’t for a while, he told you everything from the self harm to indigo to what he was feeling. There were lots of tears and crying but it made you two closer. “I-I wish you told me sooner, I’m always in your corner” you cried out as you hugged lyric close who was smiling despite his tears..

He really did love you so much..maybe he did deserve your love.

Yuuri:

“You didn’t have to come..” yuuri mumbled out softly as he glanced away, an embarrassed blush on his face as you two stood backstage. “And miss my kid’s first official concert? No way!” You cheered out happily with a smile, you were so proud of him!

“Ah, what if I’m not any good..” he mumbled out nervously with a shaky huff “there is a lot of people out there, what if I screw up?” He said softly with a scared expression, you softly grabbed his hands the action making him look at you in shock.

“You’re gonna do great! Wanna know why?”

“W-why?”

“Cause you’re the greatest no matter what! and I love you no matter what!” You cheered out, your remark being heard by his bandmates

“Oooh yuuri, they wuvvvv you!”

“Say you wuv them back, wittle yuuri”

Yuuri growled lowly, face red “s-shut up! We go on soon! Come on!” He hissed out angrily before glancing back at you “thanks..” he whispers out with a grin. “Hey, it’s my job” you said before giving him a thumbs up and walking off to take your seat.

When on stage, yuuri let out a shaky breath before looking out into the crowd eyes landing on you, you were proud of him..that’s all he really needed.

Yuuri put everything he had in that performance, he was pretty sure his voice was gonna be gone the next day from how much he was screaming. Even still he really wanted to find you and gush about how amazing it was. “I did it! They cheered so loud! And they sounded like they liked it! It was so cool and-” you held back a laugh as yuuri vented, where did the time go..he was already 17 yet here he was gushing and ranting like a little kid.

Without thinking you reached out and ruffled up his hair “you were amazing” you said softly. Yuuri stopped talking and looked at you, his smile growing bigger as he rubbed the back of his neck “of course I was!you raise me after all!” He cheered out

Kai:

“What made you wanna dye your hair?” You asked Kai as you applied the dye to his hair, he suddenly asked you to dye his hair..which you of course agreed to! “Well, I figured dying it blue would be fun” he cheered out making you tense up.

“B-blue..?”

“Yeah! The dye I bought is blue, the box is blue after all!” He cheered out, you glanced at the blue box with bright pink letters on it..oh dear. “You really want blue hair?” You said nervously, you and rin didn’t have the smartest kid..but damn he does try to be.

“Well honestly I thought blue would match me a lot, so yeah!” He cheered out happily. “Baby, my sweet boy..you bought pink hair dye..” you said softly as you looked at his hair..you already applied it all on.

“H-huh but the boy-”

“It says pink hair dye on it kai” you said softly making him silent.

“Oh..we’ll that’s okay!” He cheered out happily, you were so glad that he wasnt a picky kid. After waiting the suggested time you helped him wash it out before styling it.

“Ta-da” you cheered out as you two stood in a mirror, he gasps softly not sure what to think..pink did look nice but he felt dumb for getting the wrong dye. “ I look like a bubblegum..” he whispers out softly.

“You don’t like it?” You asked worriedly, he looked to you before smiling “no no I do love it! I just feel silly..I made a dumb mistake again..” he said sadly, you frowned now hugging him “aww Kai, it wasn’t dumb..I think it looks better like this!” You reassured him with a laugh

“Then will you dye your hair pink too? We can match!”

Freya:

You definitely noticed freya sneaking into the house, trying to be sneaky as she tried to creep to her room. “Freya, I see you” you said firmly making her squeak, you got a call from her school saying that she didn’t go that day.

“Wanna talk to me and tell me why you missed school?” You asked out softly, the girl looked down a wave of nervousness washing over her. “I-I don’t wanna go to school anymore..they don’t wanna call me freya, a-and they keep making me use the boys bathroom still” she said softly clearly very uncomfortable.

Your eyes softened and you sighed heavily, hugging the girl “I’ll make some calls okay? But next time you gotta let me know, or else I can’t fix it” you said lovingly.

“Also, you changed how you styled your hair..it’s pretty” you said with a smile, the fact that you noticed made the girl tear up with a happy expression. “Y-you noticed?! I-I’m trying to look cuter lately” she said softly as she messed with her hair tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I-of I look cuter than people will stop calling me a boy” she mumbled out softly, freya really was a soft sensitive soul. “You’re not a boy though. You’re my awesome and beautiful daughter!” You cheered out, now making the girl cry more as she hugged you tightly.

“Hey, how about we go out for a pampering? Nails done and even shopping yeah?” You asked softly, freya nodded softly still burying her tear stained face in your clothes. “You’re the best.” She whispers out softly.

“Of course I am, yknow how clueless your father can be about this” you said with a huff, you adored and loved prince..but he wasn’t the most knowledgeable about this topic and only ever made freya feel worse about herself.

You made sure to only raise her up and she adored you for that

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #yandere #yandere kids

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casspurrjoybell-17 · 2 years ago

Text

HEART'S PRICE - CHAPTER 32

*Warning: Adult Content*

With cliché sweetness, Doctor Ambrose Thorne makes Noah Hunter breakfast.

Or he tries, anyway.

He wakes Noah up with a kiss and presents him with a mug of watery coffee and a plate of burnt toast.

"How did you survive for, how old did you say you were, again?"

"Ninety-eight."

"How did you survive for ninety-eight years without learning how to cook toast?" Noah asks. "Also, I really hope your age doesn't catch up with you all at once, like how some guys go to sleep on the eve of their thirtieth birthday with a full head of hair and wake up bald."

"Does that really happen?"

Noah sighs, frowns and takes a bite of blackened toast.

"Only to guys with a bunch of obnoxious brothers who like to play pranks," he concedes, trying not to choke on the dry bread.

"How many is a bunch?" Ambrose asks, lying beside Noah again, propped on one elbow, his long hair falling in a tangled cascade over his shoulder.

Noah tells Ambrose about his brothers, about gentle Monty and the other two-thirds of his own triplet set, Travis and Martin and about his sisters, Freya, Sasha and Ingrid.

"I'd like to meet them," Ambrose says, reaching over to brush a crumb from the corner of Noah’s mouth.

"They sound a far sight better than my own lot, that's for certain."

Noah Hunter shrugs.

"They're alright."

Setting his breakfast plate aside Noah takes a sip of coffee and narrowly manages to avoid spitting it back out.

"Are you trying to pamper me, or poison me?" Noah complains, eyeing the almost flavorless liquid with suspicion.

Doctor Ambrose Thorne laughs.

"I'm usually more capable, I swear. I was.. .distracted."

"What by?" Noah asks, though he can guess well enough.

"Thoughts of you," Ambrose answers, leaning over to kiss Noah again.

It tastes a bit like burnt toast and bad coffee, which aren't the most aphrodisiacal of flavors but Noah doesn't really mind.

He uses a bit of Ambrose’s strange seductive heat, while at the same time keeping it soft and Noah’s eyes sting a little at the sweetness of it.

It's a kiss given in love, not taken in desire.

Ambrose pulls back a little and frowns at Noah’s nascent tears but only brushes the pads of his thumbs over the corners of the young man’s eyes and then rests his palm on his bare chest above his heart.

"Come on," Ambrose says, after a moment.

"Let's get some real breakfast and enjoy the peace and quiet before the rabble arrive."

Noah sighs at that thought and sits up.

He'd like nothing more than to spend a week alone with Ambrose, just getting to know him and giving him the time and space to get to know him but it's not to be.

This morning, Noah’s brother, Alpha Dane Hunter and his mate, half human/ half Fae, Julian Hart are due to visit, to check the house for weaknesses, potential points of entry and so on and after that the first of Ambrose's family will arrive, provided Dane manages to convince them to go along with our plan.

"What do you want?" Noah asks, meaning for breakfast.

"A week alone with you," Ambrose replies, smiling.

Noah Hunter blinks in surprise.

"Please don't tell me that dragons can read minds."

Ambrose Thorne smirks.

"No, little wolf. But it's good to know we're thinking the same thing. As for breakfast, why don't you show me how to make a proper slice of toast.

"I do my best but I guess we really are thinking the same thing and the second batch of toast might burns as well.’

~ ☾ ~

Dane Hunter and Julian Hart arrive mid-morning, Dane in a black t-shirt and jeans and Julian in a thin blue sweater, looking too ethereal again and for some reason, slightly guilty.

He's weirdly evasive, too and when Noah tries to ask him about the Fae tea and how much of it he has left, he gives his brother-in-law to be a vague answer before changing the subject.

Then, when the four of them discuss how to divide our efforts, Julian quickly volunteers to take the interior of the house with Ambrose, leaving Noah outside with Dane.

Noah begins to understand why when, as he and Dane examine the back of the house and they come across a broken window and Dane swears under his breath.

"Shit. It's like he's inviting the thief to come in," Dane says, fingers exploring the cracked casement.

"It's a big house and a lot to maintain and Ambrose was alone until..." Noah begins and then stop, swallowing his awkward defense. "Anyway, he's not alone anymore."

"Jeez, Noah," Dane mutters, crouching to examine the remains of the shattered glass.

"I hope to God you know what the hell you're getting into."

A Wolf, especially an Alpha, can tell when another Wolf is Mated.

Dane had taken one look at his brother and had been in a foul mood ever since.

"You mean the way you 'knew what you were getting into' with Julian?" Noah returns, keeping his tone neutral.

Given how Noah had reacted to Dane's own choice of Mate, he can't really blame his brother for questioning his but he also can't deny that it stings.

Noah wants Dane to be happy for him, not worried and disappointed, which is what he seems to be now.

"You always said it was more about feeling than knowing, anyway," Noah adds.

"For me, sure," Dane agrees, lifting a muscled shoulder in a shrug and taking a picture of the broken window with his phone, his version of making a note. "But that's how I am. You're different, smarter. Smarter than this, anyway."

If He was in Wolf form, Noah’s hackles would be up.

He smooths my his hand over the back of his neck and waits in silence until his instinctive anger subsides.

Rising to his feet, Dane turns to look at at his younger brother.

"Noah, look, I don't wanna fight over this and I remember how mad I was when you said almost the same thing to me, the day you found out what Julian was, but... Well, Ambrose said it himself, dragons are deceivers. You might think you're in love, Mated, or whatever but he's not a Wolf. You could be wrong."

Noah knows Dane has a point but he also knows the truth of his own heart and he fights to keep his rising anger in check.

Dane turns back to the house, bending to inspect a small, grubby window almost level with the ground that must belong to some sort of basement space."

You d-don't know him yet," Noah says, his stutter rising to the surface with his emotions.

"Once you have a ch-ch-chance to spend some t-time with him, you'll understand. Just like I did with J-Julian."

Dane shakes his head, making his dread-locks swish against his back.

"That's the thing, Noah. The more I learn about Thorne, the less I like him."

Finally, Noah’s anger gets the better of his and he balls his hands into fists.

"Well, m-maybe that c-can't be helped but Ambrose is P-Pack, now and..."

Alpha Dane Hunter turns, snapping at his brother with a wolfish growl.

"He is not Pack, Noah. He is a suspect and your judgement is clearly compromised."

Dane stops and sighs, hanging his head and then goes on in a quieter voice.

"You're off the case, understand?"

Noah takes a step away from him, taken aback.

"Dane... That's n-not fair," he argues.

"If you've forgotten, Julian was a suspect when you..."

"That was different," Dane argues, looking up at Noah sharply.

"I had proof he wasn't involved, not to mention a history of good judgement. Can you say the same?"

Noah swallows, feeling a little ill.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Dane sighs and stands, rubbing his hands over his hair before setting them on his hips.

"Look, Noah... Julian told me, alright?" he says.

"About that guy and what he did. About Thomas Flynn. He just wanted to help," he adds quickly, holding out a broad hand, fingers splayed, as he sees whatever expression is on Noah’s face.

and he's not himself right now. And shit, if I weren't wrapped up in this mess here, I'd be on my way to find that guy and teach him a few things about regret."

Dane Hunter shakes his head.

"Goddamn it, Noah. Can't you see this is too soon?" he asks, his voice cracking with strain.

"I'm no 'wise old wolf,' like mom or dad but even I can see you're not fully healed. You're in pieces. How can you give yourself to someone like this and expect him to respect you, when you're still broken? I..."

Noah’s breath is caught in his throat, his heart splitting anew along freshly healed seams, torn by this new betrayal and the pain makes him reckless.

"Really?" he snarls.

"And did Julian tell you what he's been up to? Where he's been?"

Dane looks perplexed and Noah feels a tingle of triumph shoot along his nerves.

He know it's false but he takes pleasure in it nonetheless and forges on towards destruction.

"He's been to Faerie," Noah spits.

"That's right, I took him there, to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him because he was too afraid to ask you, too scared you'd freak out on him. Maybe he'll tell you about that, too. Then again, maybe not. Because you fell in love with someone who isn't a Wolf, Dane and you can't control him the way you would if..."

Dane's open hand cracks across Noah’s face and he falls back and lands on his ass on the parched lawn, staring up at his older brother with a mixture of shock and hurt.

Dane looks back with a similar expression.

"God, Noah, I didn't..."

Pressing his hand to his mouth, he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"I'm sorry, brother. I love you and you know that but if you go behind my back and if I can't trust you..."

Alpha Dane Hunter shakes his head.

"Then you aren't Pack."

Then, leaving Noah to pick himself up and sort out his scattered and wounded thoughts, he walks away.

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multifandom-girlie · 4 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓

Imagine: “Could I request a Daniel Gillies smut like they are both at the comic con(they are both in the originals) and he is teasing her while he answers a question ? Or makes fun with Joseph and he says some dirty things.” Requested by @elijahspersonalwifeyyy .

Pairing: Daniel Gillies x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words:

Edited: Yes

A/N: I apologise @elijahspersonalwifeyyy for the incredibly long wait. I’ve had this lined up to post but with coursework and writing so much at the same time, it’s made it difficult but I refuse to quit. I’m not a quitter. I’m also not a person to announce a hiatus. Either way, hope you enjoyed ! There is a lot to read I know but we needed a build up and this is one of my favourite comic cons ever, I wanted to do the before hand scenes either way so. Don’t forget to check out my new story “On The Way” !

All of us at the current moment in time were stood backstage waiting to be called on. I couldn't tell you how irritated I was when I went on after Joseph and then Daniel followed. They were both irritating enough to me together anyway but they were in a particularly annoying mood today and I was not prepared for it.

“The man who will break your heart and then rip it out and then probably eat it. Joseph Morgan.”

The whole audience cheered as he walked on and he waved quite casually as he did.

“The women who brings all men to there knees but still can't find anything better to do than drink wine. Y/N Y/L/N”

I giggled as I walked out and I saw the audience screaming and Joseph giving me a mischievous look.

“The brother with a suit for every occasion. Daniel Gillies as Elijah.”

He walked out, threw me a quick smirk and blew a kiss to the audience as they screamed. He pulled his chair out and smiled at everyone.

“Nice jacket.”

“Yeah. Give it up for this jacket ! Huh ? Out of a suit and into a smoking hot jacket.”

“I know right, the one time he's not wearing a suit.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift from Y/N.”

“Aw that’s super sweet Y/N.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift for our anniversary.”

“Really ? How many years ?”

“Seven.”

“and very sweet.”

He called the rest of our costars out and we continued on with the panel.

After the host had started the panel with a question for Julie and Michael, it was now a group question for me, Joseph and Phoebe.

“Uh now going to the show, we've seen Klaus and Lily and Klaus and Hayley kind of trying the uh co-parenting thing and it did not really go so well as we all saw. How is Klaus going to be as a parent now that Hayley isn't around and Lily and Elijah have reconciled ?”

As soon as the question was asked, we all turned to Joseph.

“Uh you know, before he alienated his whole family by toasting Elijah's girlfriend, sleeping with his wife and and and cursing the women he thought he was in love with um Klaus survived under this sort of umbrella of Elijah's protection and forgiveness I suppose and so Elijah was always a voice of reason and Hayley was always there to battle it out with him. So, I would say badly. He's gonna do badly as a single parent you know and I think he knows he's kinda messing it up but he's trying. At least he's trying. You gotta give him that. Even if he's warping the minds of his two daughters, one before she's even uttered a syllable and the other before she get's old enough to realise that Klaus and Lily aren't actually together you know like she’s thought for years.”

“Geez. So uh how are are Lily, Elijah and Klaus going to tell her ? Who's going to be the one that does it or will they all do it together ?”

I decided to answer this questions, being more involved with the story line of my children.

“I think that Lily will have to be the one to tell her and whilst doing so will definitely have to be quite cautious when telling Sofia, you know not only because she's only 7 years old but also because she’s thought of Elijah as her Uncle her whole life- and although that hasn't changed it's still going to be difficult since this latest revelation is that, her Uncle Elijah that she adores oh so much is now also 'mommy's boyfriend' or in more formal terms her step-dad. So I think she's going to be confused and it might be quite difficult for her at first but I think she’s mature for her age and that she will understand quite quickly that, Mommy and Daddy aren't together and that despite realizing that her mom was married to her uncle I think she will quickly appreciate the fact we told her because of her understanding personality. “

Daniel quickly leaned forward and spoke before the host could ask another question.

“The moral of the story is, don't sleep with your husband's brother. Especially when not using protection and then deciding to get back together with your husband before trying to force him to sign the divorce papers.”

The whole room suddenly echoed with loud laughter and I couldn't stop giggling myself despite being offended for my character. I hit his arm playfully. He grinned at me and rested his hand on my leg as the room calmed down and he slouched back in his chair a little.

“Very true. So, I mean he can always just compel a few dozen nannies but he does have Elijah there to help him co-parent you know not just with Sofia but with Hope. I'm thinking like shared schedules, late night feedings...Whose doing what ?”

“It’s like we both wake up and the baby is crying and it's like, are you going to get her or am I ? Alright, I'll get her.”

“Yeah no it's gonna be me. I'm gonna do the graveyard shift, I know that all to well. But we gotta remember too, Lily and Freya are going to be doing a large share of the work.”

“Oh yeah, they can do it. There you go.”

I giggled and hit Joseph in the shoulder for the comment.

“Sexist.”

“No, come on. Lily's already been through this twice she knows’ what she's doing and Freya's Switzerland at this moment in time, I think for both of us to be in there...I’m gonna stop talking.”

We all chuckled at Daniel's comment.

“Now we're going to go to audience questions in just a little bit but first I wanted to do something fun. I know it's not the holiday's and I know we don't have a big ass bonfire in front of us but I thought it would be quite fun if everybody kinda thinks about a wish for their character for the future, just throw it in the imaginary bonfire.”

“Well, I'm a human....so I just want to stay alive.”

“Good answer.”

“Oh I forgot you weren't a character.”

“I have wishes for everybody but I don't have a character.”

“I do wish for Julie that Supernatural Judge Judy becomes her next spin off and Exploding Ovaries is the title of Daniel Gillies' next memoir.

“A wish for Hayley would be that Hope can live a normal, happy existence. I think would be what she would want the most.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Thank you. That's it, I'm done.”

“Uh, I think for Elijah...I mean other than wishing that his girlfriend's wouldn't be incinerated or his wife doesn't sleep with his brother again...”

I giggled at Daniel's comment, despite his comment towards my character and spoke with Joseph, simultaneously.

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm not letting that one go easily. So, uh...I would wish for him. Oh man. I wish for him, I’m actually wishing for something dark, like I sort of would wish for...a great division between the brothers before reconciliation.”

“So that's how it's going to be.”

“So, my wish for Lily is um...to finally find that bloody fertility spell that she's been looking for, for centuries. So that her and Elijah can have children of their own which they want more than anything and move somewhere outside of New Orleans in a nice family home, away from the drama.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Uh, I wish everyone would just do what Klaus says because he's always right. He knows what he's doing. It's for the greater good. Come on. Get on board with his plans. Everything will be alright in the end. Not everyone will be alright in the end but everything will be alright in the end. Right ?”

“Um, I wish Marcel would cross over. No.”

“I wish for more of your cleavage.”

I couldn't help but laugh a little when he says comments like that. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I knew the double meaning behind it. Daniel has not taken his eyes away from my chest today. That's what breast feeding does to you, I suppose. When Daniel picked my outfit this morning, I was glad. I was going to wear some leather pants and a red blouse with some heels but he somehow convinced me to wear a dress. God was I glad, I actually listened to him. It was hot in San Diego summer heat and I underestimated a little when I decided on leather pants.

“Yeah. We gonna get some dollar bills. Let's see some ones. Tryna make some money out here. Somebody, put on some Usher. Slow jam. Uh yeah...”

“I have a twenty. What can we get for a twenty ?”

“Break it up. Break it up.”

“Make it into ones and let's make it rain.”

“If I throw loose change at you, can I make it hail ?”

“Alright, moving on. Next subject.”

“Um, Davina is a witch and I think it would be really cool if she could fly. So, whether it's a broomstick or something else...I still think it would be really cool.”

“That’s a good one. Um, mines pretty selfish. I hate shaving, so I wish we could work something in so Vincent could have like a huge beard.”

“I changed my mind, I want superpowers as well. Three one foot long, retractable adamantine claws from each hand please.”

”Why is the camera on me ? I wanna fly. I wanna see these guys fly. I want them charging up walls and...we don’t have the budget for that. I wanna see more vampirey stuff. Why am I wishing again ? I exhausted my wish.”

“You guys can make as many wishes as you want. This is your made up tradition.”

“It’s raining wishes on you.”

“Raining for your wishes.”

“God this is embarrassing.”

“T it up.”

“T what up ?”

“What do your need for a rain of wishes ?”

“What happens when it rains ?”

“An umbrella.”

“What ?”

“An umbrella, sweetheart.”

He closed his eye in frustration and dropped his upper half into my lap, whilst we all laughed at his slow mind.

“Oh shit. Umbrella. So sorry, so sorry.”

“The rain, the umbrella...”

“Dropping hints. Awesome, alright well let’s turn it over to some audience questions.”

“Hi, my name is Julia and first I'd like to say, I love you all. Especially Joseph Morgan and Danielle Campbell.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t worry, I love you Daniel.”

He squeezes my thigh and leans in to kiss my head. Before deciding to move his arm around my shoulders and hugging me into his side. I rested my hand on his thigh as I hugged him back.

“I love you too, beautiful.”

I blushed and smiled, whilst the audience all awed. Which prompted the red in my cheeks to darken. I sat back up straight and he returned his hand back my thigh, yet this time a little higher up and whilst stroking the fabric of my dress up my thigh.

“My question is for the whole cast and it is, if you were able to play another role...who would you wanna play ?”

“On our show ? Or just in general ?”

“Yeah. On The Originals.”

“I..I think I would choose Hayley. The Hyrbid female. She's a pretty cool character. Your welcome.”

“Um, I would play...Klaus. Mind you probably better but...”

“I don't wanna play anybody else, I wanna play Elijah.”

“I would play, Elijah....purely because it would be an absolute blessing to wake up that hot everyday and he's a pretty awesome character.”

He smirked at me and moved his hand further up my leg, his fingers now resting at the hem of my white lace thong. I gulped a little but held my composure. It seemed hat every time I complimented him, he got further up my leg and closer to my core. Like a game...and I was more than happy to play.

“If...If I had to absolutely play someone else uh, I would play Oliver because I just think he needs to be brought back to the show...and uh #saveollie. Bring him back !”

“Uh, I would play Elijah because I think I look damn good in a suit.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Buttoned up to the naval.”

“There we go. I know it's distracting for you, my body.”

“I cannot concentrate. I refuse to continue.”

“Um, I would play Genevieve. I thought she was a really cool character. She was a lot of fun to work with.”

“I see some Genevieve fans in the house, awesome.”

“Um, yeah I think I might choose Elijah too. I think uh, it's a really cool character that Daniel has created.”

“They both quietly believe they can bring more to the role, is what they’re saying. Not quietly, they're saying it to an audience of like three thousand.”

“Only because of what you've done with it Daniel.”

“Hi Guys, wow that's loud. I'm so sorry, my name's Marissa. First, I want to say Daniel I watched saving hope and your death killed me. I'm so sorry that you died.”

“Yeah, tell me about it ! I was gutted.”

He squeezed my thigh a little more and started making circles with his finger on the spot closed to my core.

“Oh my goodness.”

Yeah, oh my goodness indeed. He really knew how to make a woman feel good, without hardly doing anything...quite literally.

“Um, so my question is for Julie and Michael. Um, I was wondering...there’s so much violence on the show and so much adult stuff and I was wondering if the network or the studio has ever told you, 'No you can't do that’ ?”

We all started laughing in reply to the questions.

“Oh, we have a story about that don't we...Leah.”

“I don't wanna tell the story again.”

“There's things that we did that couldn't be shown.”

“So here's the thing about broadcast television is that, apparently you can decapitate someone, you can drive a knife into a vampires skull, you can rip out their heart, you can shove a pencil up their nose, you can stab them a million times with glass but when stimulating a sex scene...if there's any movement at all that one would define as thrusting...”

“No thrusting. Pull back on the thrusting.”

“A motion that originates from the hip.”

Charles decided to get up and share a demonstration of thrusting and everyone on stage started laughing and the audience started to scream. Daniel gripped my thigh a little harder, due to jealously. I didn't have to ask him what the reason was, I already knew. At the best of times, he was not a jealous person. He loves and trusts me and Charles a lot and he knows nothing would happen but when he's horny and in need of some attention...he does get jealous. Understandably so, I know because we both do. His pinky finger then started to stroke me, through the lace of my pants.

“It’s difficult because I don't actually remember thrusting being in the script. That was something the actors chose.”

“It was a creative choice. I mean, look at Charles...you would do the same thing. Also, let's not forget the originators of this little problem.”

The audience stayed silent, indicating that they weren't sure how to react to her last sentence. I leaned into Daniel and rested my forehead against his bicep in retaliation to Leah's comment. I couldn't stop giggling, despite the finger rubbing against my wet thong and the blush rising on my cheeks. Daniel was using his other hand to pinch his forehead, whilst chuckling.

“Come on guys, explain it.”

“So, what happened was we were doing the flashback sex scene of Elijah and Lily's wedding night. Daniel got a bit too excited and started to thrust a little and I tried hiding it by opening my legs a bit more.As I did, my underwear snapped because it wasn't as flexible as I thought. So, I had to pay a fine for showing too much skin because the sheets had come off of me a little and we hadn't realised. Not that it was much it was just a little side boob, still.”

“So, it wasn't the thrusting ?”

“No, ironically it wasn't.”

“Let me tell you. There was some excellent, simulated thrusting in those scenes. That was cut, per broadcast standards. While, I think in the same episode seventeen people got brutally massacred. It is what it is.”

“Some of the best thrusting. I hope it makes the special features.”

“Charles called Leah, for some extra rehearsal before hand.”

“Hi I'm uh Skylar. Um, I know that between you there has been a myriad of different supernatural creatures. Uh, Phoebe...I think you've been a werewolf, a witch and a mermaid. Uh, in really life...What would you wanna be ?”

“Well, I would say witches because witches don't have to turn on a full moon and they don't have to be like plagued by vampire...the demon’s of vampires. They can just have all the power and really cute outfits...and if I can look more like Danielle Campbell. I'll take it.”

“H20 rocks!”

“Thank you ! Well actually I-Im gonna say a mermaid then. Like, life is better under the sea and I think I would be a mermaid.”

“I don't know-"

“Merman ?”

“Merman. No, I...um. I'm pretty pervy...so I'd say like invisibility.”

“Um, so I'm not pervy at all unlike Daniel. I do think that Heretics are soooo cool though. Like, they can do magic and they are vampires but still have all those human capabilities...like procreation. So, yeah a heretic.”

His hand stopped stroking me through the lace of my panties suddenly and I instantaneously felt a cold gush of air race up my well-shaved legs and punching me in my core. I felt the frayed edges of my lace tickling my upper thigh, where they shouldn't be. Hinting that my favourite pair of thongs had been snapped. I turned to Daniel and narrowed my eyes at him whilst he just continued the panel, like nothing happened. His hand when back to it’s original position resting on my thigh, clearly in punishment for making a comment about his pervy answer.

“Nah, I'm happy where I am. You know, Hyrbid. Definitely not, invisibility. When I joined the show, I thought I was only gonna be a vampire so I was thrilled when I was a werewolf-vampire. I'm sticking to my guns.”

“I like being the token human. I'm just gonna like stay there. Create more mermen.”

“Season three, season of the mermen.”

“The next spin-off.”

“That would be so cool, let me be a mermaid. I would kill it .”

Joseph put his arm on the back of my chair, looking at me after I made my wish known to be a mermaid.

“You better not cum in the water.”

The entirety of the room ruptured into fits of laughter. Even Daniel, who had now moved his hand closer to my core again. Letting his fingers stroke my entrance. Meanwhile, I continued laughing...ignoring the feeling of my husband’s gentle and sensual touch.

“I’m blushing.”

“Hi, I'm Katie. If you were to go to Comic Con, on the floor. Is there anyone you would dress up as ?”

The first thought that came to mind was pleasing Daniel. If I said him there was no doubt he'd give in. The problem was, was it a risk I was willing to take...at a comic Con in front of three thousand fans and some of my closest friends.

“Daniel Gillies.”

Every one repeated my answer and whilst doing so I was discovering that I was unequivocally correct with my thought process. Sure enough, Daniel plunged his fingers straight into my entrance leaving me to deal with the resounding squeal that ripped from my throat. Causing Daniel to laugh at me, influencing Joseph to join in.

The final question had just been answered by Daniel and I was leaning my head into Daniel's shoulder to help with controlling the moans erupting inside me. The warmth in my stomach has just appeared as quickly as it vanished again, Daniel had stopped and chuckled at my irritated expression. Nevertheless, I got up and shoved my now broken thongs in Daniel's jacket pocket and waved at the fans with a bright smile on my face as we all walked off. We had just got out of the fan's eyesight when a hand delivered a hard slap to my barely covered assume cheek as this dress was so short. I span around and grabbed his wrist before dragging him further backstage, behind a screen next to the dressing rooms.

“What do you think your doing ? Playing around like that during a panel and then not even letting me finish ?!”

I didn't even let him reply as I dragged his face down towards mine and kissed him lustfully. His hands wandered down to my waist and clutched the already tight fabric tighter around me. The other unoccupied hand drove down to my ass and clutched it, allowing the skirt to rise up. Exposing the bare skin of my cheek. I used one of my hands to undo his zipper before pulling his dick out and stroking it. Clearly, he was eager because before I knew it. I was pressed up against the wall, sticking my tongue down his throat and moving myself up and down on his already hard cock. What we hadn't realised that the screen had moved, as Daniel had knocked it with his foot when walking to the wall. He pulled away and smirked at me.

“You told me we wouldn't have public sex after last time.”

“This is the last time Mr Gillies, I'm promising you.”

We smiled at eachother and kept going against the wall. His tip caused some tension when arriving to a depth he hadn’t before but it was a pleasurable one most definitely. The lips of my pussy enveloped his tip and he ran it through my drenched folds before deciding to plunge into me once again. I was about to scream and he knew I wasn’t good at being quiet when he fucks me so good. I clung onto him hoping it would relieve tha ache he’d created by filling me so good. He sat down on a chair that was sat in a chair of the little area backstage. Sitting down, allowed his thrusts to speed up rapidly and his face to rest in between my smooth and nearly covered beasts. He bit my hardened buds through my dress and caused a shive of please to shoot down to my core and promoting me to burst.

I then decided to let go and couldn’t help but let out a gratifying scream for him. I was coming down from my high and the screen pulled back. A man that looked about 40, eyed us disgusted and told us to move it.

“Well atleast I won the deal ?”

“Remember the deal we had ? If I was right about is having sex in public again no matter how much you denied that we wouldn’t. Your were very adamant.#

MASTERLIST

#imagines #the vampire diaries #the originals #to imagine #tvd imagine #tvd #the originals imagines #elijah mikaelson #daniel gillies x reader #daniel gillies has ruined me #daniel gillies smut

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