#headers devils night
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adrianvokov · 1 year ago
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headers willemmy like
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maddiesflame · 4 months ago
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Wallflowers layouts
like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame
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bluearcheron · 6 months ago
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oi, você poderia fazer uma header de banks e kai? (hideaway) com um ícone da alice pagani combinando?
Kai Mori and Nikova Banks headers + Alice Pagani icons✨
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🤍 Like or reblog it
💭 Espero que você tenha gostado
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safiraerklare · 1 year ago
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nightfall & safira de prata headers
reblog if you save.
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madiflpwcz · 9 months ago
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Madi Filipowicz 🌪 packs for Twitter
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bookstanstuffx · 1 year ago
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❈ ulzzang icon + devil's night header ❈
@blackbeakgirl credit on twitter.
like or reblog if you save or use, please!
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deusaedits · 2 years ago
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devils night users
kaimwifes
moritorrencws
kaidefenses
mchaeltrues
michawlfanes
bankstorrancws
willgraywson
emorwills
emorykova
niktorrancw
rikabankss
wintwrwill
ashbyanks
cristorrancws
fanecristss
wintorranc
dmonwinter
michaelashby
wintrscott
emoryfanes
se gostou, não esqueça de curtir! se pegar, me avise no twitter (ignitewar) ou por aqui!
if you liked, dont forget to like! if you catch one, let me know on twitter (ignitewar) or here!
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egohikari · 1 year ago
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Kai Mori & Nikova Banks • Header;
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banksreads · 2 years ago
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“Whenever you want to make an impression and you think you’ve gone far enough, go one step further. Always leave them wondering if you’re just a little bit crazy and people will never fuck with you again.”
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firstpersonnarrator · 2 years ago
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Thank you @salvador-daley for all the beautiful art! I am so in love with these headers. You are amazing.
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tojicide · 23 days ago
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OBSESSED. ☆ SYLUS QIN.
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📰 extra, extra! why is your bodyguard so obsessed with you? girl, you wanna know...
warnings. nsfw, smut, mdni. porn with plot. fem!reader, popstar!reader, bodyguard!sylus. established romantic history (very brief). pet names. semi-public. fingering, oral (fem!receiving), cowgirl, unprotected p in v. wc. 4.6k
an. reused the header and a bit of the plot from an aaron hotchner fanfic i wrote on wattpad in like… 2021??? tweaked most of the details obvs but ig i was born as a bodyguard au lover
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Your bodyguard was such a buzzkill.
Dragging you out of every party you make an appearance at, replacing your shots with water once he believes you’ve had one too many, watching you like a hawk no matter where you are or who you’re with...
You despise those who have an inability to have fun, so as far as you’re concerned, Sylus is the devil reincarnated. You aren’t exactly shy about your opinions on him either, and perhaps in hindsight, that is exactly why he was currently pacing through the party you’re in attendance of to try and ruin your night yet again.
(Ruin your night or… do his job? Hell if you care about the logistics of it all. Two sides of the same coin, you think.)
His protective nature only grew more intense ever since the two of you shared a kiss before a concert of yours that left your lipstick smeared over your face like there was no tomorrow…
And what did that asshole do? Nothing. It was in his nature to make your life miserable after all. Sylus let you walk out in front of your thousands of fans, makeup messy and appearance disheveled all from his mouth on yours alone.
And boy, did the tabloids have a time with that one… Who was the culprit? A new fling of yours? Fiancé? Possible baby daddy? Each and every news outlet had some uniquely wrong to say. Can’t a girl have a makeout session with her bodyguard in peace?
Unfortunately for you, the paparazzi have been hounding you ever since that day, itching to get the 4-1-1 on your love life.
And ever since, you haven’t given many people the time of day—including Sylus. Tonight, you’ve managed to stay two steps ahead of your dear bodyguard and evade eventual capture for just a bit longer. You’re currently surrounded by a few of your friends, socialites and actors alike.
Your lips seem to flap freely when you have a few drinks in you, but tonight, you’re sober but even more talkative than ever. Your chosen topic of conversation? Your overbearing and stupidly handsome bodyguard, of course.
Too lost in your story, waving your arms around to your theatrical pleasure, you hardly noticed the way your friends’ faces paled to a ghostly shade of white, their eyes nearly bulging out of their heads and their lips parted as if they had something to say but… couldn’t.
All the while, you were too busy blowing off the  steam that you’d acquired from your last encounter with the forsaken bodyguard. “…And I was like, why are you so obsessed with me?”
As fate would have it, you hear a throat clear behind you followed by an annoyed huff that you’ve grown to know like the back of your hand. You spin around, already wearing a scowl.
“Obsessed with you, hm?” Sylus says, his voice low and seemingly dangerous, though your utter distaste for the man rids him of his intimidation. “You’re quite self important. I could never live in a world where I’d fall at the feet of an egotistical popstar.”
You roll your eyes at that. Who does he think he is? Everyone loves you—all except for the disgustingly handsome man standing in front of you.
“Mm… well, you can always die an untimely death and never have to work for me again,” you reply, giving him the most passive aggressive smile known to man. “Hopefully that gives you an ounce of hope.”
“It does,” he replies, returning the same expression that you gave him.
It’s borderline infuriating how undisturbed Sylus was. No, it is infuriating. No matter how many insults you chucked his way, he never cracked. (And the one time he did, it led to the two of you playing tonsil tennis in your dressing room...)
You shake your head, huffing in utter annoyance. You then hold your wrists up for display, cocking your head to the side as you give him a mock puppy dog expression. “Sooo… are you here to take me away, Officer Buzzkill?”
Sylus merely blinks in response to your taunting, taking a firm grasp on one of your wrists before he tugs you through the sea of partygoers. He laces your fingers together, squeezing tight as to not lose hold of you.
“Must you always make things so difficult?” he asks, keeping his eyes ahead.
You shrug your shoulders. “More or less.”
“More or less?” he echoes, glancing over his shoulder to properly look at you. “I suggest you try a different style of communication, sweetness. Your clipped attitude will get you nowhere.”
“Oh? But it’s gotten me so far already…” you trail off, glancing at his lips for a few agonizingly long seconds before a smirk tugs on the corner of your mouth. “In fact, I think it can get me even further.”
Sylus’s jaw tenses, his eyes slipping shut as he tears his gaze away from you. He can’t handle the way you’re looking at him—so unbelievably beautiful with those siren eyes of yours, the mere sight of you already stirring something unwanted within him.
He turns around to continue leading you through the crowd without a reply. You begin to glance around yourself, attempting to plot your brilliant escape.
“Don’t,” he flatly states, his iron grip tightening on your hand.
“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a strong tone of defiance.
Sylus gives your hand one solid tug before you’re standing in front of him, his free hand pressing onto the small of your back as he keeps you pressed to his chest. “If you haven’t noticed, you brat, I will always chase you. I’ll find you just the same.”
You almost deflate under his intense gaze, his deep red eyes piercing through your own. It wasn’t often that Sylus manhandled you, but when he did, it made you feel… different. Intrigued, maybe.
“How touching,” you deadpan, “but you still get on my nerves.”
Sylus clicks his tongue. “Tch. Oh, I’m sorry… when have I ever cared about what you think?”
“Never,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “You know… if you hate me so much, you should just quit on me.”
Sylus rolls his eyes, his red irises drawing you in like no other. “I don’t… hate you. You should be rather thankful that I don’t, because I’m doubtful that anyone else would want this job of mine—you’re quite the handful.”
“Mm, I’m only saying,” you murmur with a shrug, giving his hand a harsh squeeze as if the roughness of your grasp would make him let go, but he, of course, does not. “You don’t need this job, and yet, here you are.”
He raises a brow. “What do you mean by that?”
You smile, the same shit-eating grin that he has grown to be all too familiar with. “Give me your wallet.”
Sylus huffs, his broad shoulders deflating as he fishes his black leather wallet from his back pocket and hands it over to you. You take it with ease, slipping your hand from his as you crack it open.
You slip his Black Card from the sleeve, proving that he truly didn’t need the job for any monetary gain. And then, a triumphant smile graces your lips as you pull out none other than a Polaroid photo taken of you—backstage at your concert just before the kiss you two shared.
“Ooh… what’s this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.
Sylus reaches forward to try and snatch the tiny photo from you, but you are far too quick. “What are you revealing exactly? That you were secretly snooping in my wallet prior to now?”
“Yes,” you admit without hesitation, “and that you’re secretly rich and in love with me. Does that make us even?”
His jaw sets, his piercing gaze set on yours. He works to snatch the photo from you, tucking his belongings back into his wallet before he slips it into his pocket. “No. Maybe if you were less of a pain, we could be even.”
You wiggle your eyebrows in suggestion. “You’re not denying being in love with me, dear bodyguard of mine.”
Sylus gives you a deadpan expression. “Must you always be so self righteous? God forbid I am proud of you and your success.”
The genuine nature of his words set you back a step, your brows knitting together and your lips parting. If Sylus noticed the shift of your expression, he didn’t mention it. Thankfully. His cold fingers lace with yours once more, continuing the stride towards the exit of the party.
“Rather than putting on this show of yours, you truly should be thanking me for saving your reputation,” he quietly adds, his hand now curled around your waist as you approach the exit. “There is a swarm of paparazzi outside who are desperate to get their grimy hands on a picture of their beloved popstar doing something remotely scandalous.”
(And if Sylus knows anything about you, it’s that you love scandals. According to you, they ‘make life worth living’. Tch. Diva.)
You chuckle. “Aww, you care!”
“Do I care, or is it my job to look after you?” he asks, plucking his sunglasses from his pocket to place them on your face, shielding your eyes from the rapid camera flashes of the paparazzi. “Public intoxication numerous times a week is not a very good look for you, sweetie. Incredibly frowned upon.”
Your jaw sets as you listen to his words. While they are undeniably true, you don’t have any plans for admitting that—not now or in the near future.
“Making out with my bodyguard is frowned upon as well, but you didn’t seem to be complaining about that bit,” you say under your breath.
Your voice was low enough that your weighted words were almost drowned out by the booming music of the party and by the chatter of the photographers you’re about to be engulfed in. Almost. 
Sylus flashes you a glare. “You shouldn’t mumble. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
“You heard me,” you state.
He did hear you, that was exactly the problem. It was no coincidence that the two of you haven’t spoken much since your very intense lip lock. You’ve been avoiding each other, evading the invisible string that connects the two of you like both an electric current and a noose.
The tension between the two of you was tangible, palpable even—you could practically taste it just as well as you could still taste his lips on your own. It was intoxicating, imprinting, searing.
It managed to distract you from the flashing lights of the cameramen who were swarming you, capturing flick after flick of you being led through the crowd.
You chew on the inside of your cheek. “You know, you can help me out with all of this,” you murmur, gesturing towards the paparazzi. “My publicist came up with an idea that will get them off my back for a while. Give them the answers they need and… whatnot.”
“Yeah?” he asks, glancing your way. “Do tell.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, tuning out all of the chattering paparazzi who are currently surrounding you. “Be my impromptu mystery man for the cameras. I’ll give you anything you want in return, I swear it.”
Sylus hums, the sound omitting a deep rumble into the air. “Anything I want? My, my, sweets, you’ve made me an offer I cannot refuse.”
You huff, grasping onto the collar of his jacket as you pull him into you. “Just go with it.”
“Just go with wh— mmph!” Sylus’s words were muffled by your lips slotting against his in a searing kiss, his hands instinctively finding their home on the curve of your hips.
The kiss was… tame. It was supposed to be, after all. It was merely for the cameras, a way for you to put an answer to the questions that have been flooding your inbox and left your name circulating in the news for days on end.
But when Sylus’s tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you slightly pull away, muttering a faint, “Sylus, what’re you…” before he pulls you right back in, his large hand now resting on your cheek.
“If you’re going to use me like a whore at your disposal, I’d suggest you let me enjoy myself and taste you properly,” he says into your mouth, his hand shifting to tangle in your hair as he tilts you to his liking, your tongues meeting in with gentle swipes. “See? I knew you could do better than that.”
True to his suggestion, you kissed him like there was no tomorrow, your hands fisting his shirt in your palms as your lips moved in tandem with his. Lipstick and paparazzi long forgotten, you find yourself getting lost in the moment, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands give your hips a firm squeeze.
The moment he hears that sweet, impossibly faint sound of your pleasure, he knows that he’s in for it now. That’ll do it for him.
He abruptly pulls away, clasping his hand onto yours as he continues pulling you through the now stunned crowd of paparazzi. Sporting an erection and your lipstick smeared on his lips makes no difference to Sylus—if anything, he enjoys the world knowing that he has the hots for the woman who he has sworn to protect.
Sylus helps you into the passenger seat of your black SUV, closing the door behind you before making his way to the driver’s seat. He peels off, driving with intention through the streets of the city.
It was now evident to you that he was driving the SUV in pursuit of his favorite lookout spot, one that overlooks the bustling city from a distance. Sylus had taken you there once before as per your request to ‘stay out a bit later’. Nothing happened then, but you have an inclination that your luck has changed.
“I know what I want from you,” he states, placing a hand on your thigh.
How did he already manage to figure out what he wants in return for helping you? A raise? A car? The blood of his enemies? You’re intrigued, raising a brow. “You do?”
“I do,” he confirms without missing a beat. “Get into the backseat.”
A gasp leaves your kiss swollen lips as you mull over the utter implications of his words. It didn’t take a genius to understand them, but you were… surprised to say the least. “I think you’re overstepping your boundaries, Mr. Qin.”
In a literal sense, sure he was. But if the two of you were going to judge based on what you two want, he absolutely wasn’t—you both knew that.
He chuckles, the sound low yet infuriatingly sexy. His hand slips beneath your skirt, his middle finger brushing along the damp spot of your panties. “Your body seems to disagree with you, ma’am.”
And if you weren’t already wet before, hearing him call you ma’am was more than enough to do it for you. “Shut up,” you grumble.
“You can make me,” he suggests, setting the vehicle into park before giving your thigh a few pats. He nods his head towards the backseat. “Go on.”
Without hesitation, you kick your heels off and crawl into the back of the vehicle, thumping down on the seat with a sharp sigh. Sylus follows you within the blink of an eye, his knees settling on the spacious floor of the car.
“What’re you…” you ask, though your eyebrows raise as the pieces of the puzzle click together in your mind. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” he repeats, his warm hands rubbing your knees as he spreads your legs apart, his lips finding the tender skin of your inner thigh. “You know… you truly should be resting for your show tomorrow evening.”
“Should I?” You bite on your bottom lip as he leans forward, nosing at your clothed pussy with a muffled moan of his own. He inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal driving him to the brink of insanity.
“You should,” he answers, pressing an open mouthed kiss on your cunt through the fabric of your panties. “You should stop talking too. You need to rest your voice just as much.”
You swallow hard, whimpering ever so softly as his fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs to give himself access to your glistening core.
His eyes are set on your heat, his cool hands hiking your thighs over his shoulders. He rests his cheek on the warmth of your inner thigh, glancing up at you. “Because believe me, sweetie, the things that I want to do to you will not be in favor of that beautiful voice of yours.”
“Oh?” you ask, titling your head. “What will they be in favor of?”
He grins, wicked and devilishly handsome. “I’m glad you asked, because there’s someone else I’ve been wanting to hear from.”
Before you have the chance to reply, he’s already got his face delving deep between your legs, the filthy sounds of squelches and slurping filling the otherwise silent car.
“Oh, I— mmh, you didn’t answer my… my question,” you stammer out between breathy moans, your head tilting back on the headrest as your eyes flutter shut.
Sylus smiles into your pussy, pointing his tongue to accentuate the squelching noises that your heat was making, entirely wet and dripping for him.
“Can you not hear her?”
Never in your life did you think that having a man on his knees talking to your cunt would be this arousing, but… you’re fucking soaked.
“I-I can,” you gasp, cracking your eyes open to look down at him. “Fuck, you can talk to her in fifty languages for all I care, holy shit.”
He quietly chuckles, the sound sending a spark of vibrations onto your already sensitive clit. Your thighs tense, aching to close on him, but he keeps them spread with his strong hands on your thighs.
Your lips part as a string of breathy sounds leave you, beautiful moans and needy whimpers alike—all of which play as music to Sylus’s ears. It was nice to know that your mouth was good for more than just singing and bickering at him…
Teeth nibbling into your bottom lip, you glance down at him, only to be met with the most crazed eyes known to mankind. So disheveled, your slick leaking down his chin while his tongue delves into your heat like a man starved. He looks like he’s in his own pussy drunk heaven.
When you feel his pointed tongue begin to curve and lick in ways it hadn’t before, you do your best to follow his movements.
S-Y-L-U-S he spells on your puffy cunt with his writing tool of choice—none other than his stupidly talented tongue.
“You’re so—”
“Shh,” he cuts you off, his voice more like a husky whisper now. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, sucking on your clit before releasing it with a harsh pop.
Filthy sounds fill the air, your own breathy moans spilling from your swollen lips in tandem with the messy sucks of Sylus’s lips on your cunt. Not to mention, your girl truly was loud.
“Singing so beautifully for me,” he rasps, his eyes flitting up to watch your blissful expression. Lidded eyes, parted lips, flushed skin—an absolute wet dream of his come to life.
You bite your lip, hardly focused on the words coming out of his mouth. “Mmh, what…?”
“Quiet, sweets,” he repeats, hooking his hands even tighter around your thighs as he gives your heat a few more harsh licks. “I told you I was talking to her, didn’t I?”
It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, your core grinding against his wet muscle as you chase your release.
Sylus was more than eager to give it to you, redoubling his efforts while locking his hands over your legs to keep you steady enough for him to pleasure you effectively. The warmth pooling in your belly was far too much, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.
“Mmh, I… I’m coming,” you warn through an airy whine.
And when you do, Sylus swoops in even more greedily than before, his flat tongue lapping at your honeyed release. There was no way he would ever be able to go without tasting you like this now that he has. Fuck, he’s such a goner.
As you come down from your high, you grin with a few pants. “Look at you, falling at the feet of your ‘egotistical popstar’—mmph!”
Sylus plunges two fingers into your mouth to shut you up, rising to plant himself onto the seat beside you. “That’s hardly an insult to me anymore, my dear. I know what I am.”
He pulls his spit slick fingers from your mouth, bringing them to your pussy as he gently circles your sensitive clit. His free hand guides you through the motion of straddling his lap. With a simple nod of his head, he gestures for you to lift your shirt up, and you do.
“And what’s that?” you ask, watching as he leans forward to mouth at your breasts through the fabric of your bra.
“I’ve already told you,” he murmurs, bringing his free hand to his belt to free his cock from the confines of his pants. “A whore at your disposal.”
“I knew it,” you chuckle, though the sweet sound is interrupted by a breathy moan that he coaxes out of you once he slides his fat cockhead along your folds.
He clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side. “Are you not going to reciprocate my affection?” he teases, grasping tightly onto your hips. “Or do I have to work a bit harder for it, ma’am?”
Your knees would have certainly buckled if they weren’t firmly planted on the leather seats of the SUV. Who would have thought that you had a thing for white-haired bodyguards who call you ‘ma’am’?
Sylus raises a brow, a cocky smirk tugging on his lips. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
You feel your face heating up more and more the longer you look him in the eyes, shifting your hips so that the tip of his cock finally meets your entrance. “Just… shut up and put it in.”
“How demanding,” he hums, smirking ever so slightly as he uses his grasp on you to make one sharp snap of his hips, burying balls deep inside of your heat. “But as you wish, pretty.”
You cry out immediately, the burn of the stretch fading into unfolding pleasure. Eyes locked on each other’s, breaths mingling with ease, skin slicked with sweat, it was…
“Perfect,” he whispers, smoothing his hands along your hips before one reaches up to cup your cheek. He pulls you into a deep, searing kiss. “So, so perfect.”
Your movements are timid at first, you were merely testing the waters that had yet to be explored. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing your deepest points with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.
Sylus begins to help you move a bit quicker, rocking your hips forward in smooth rolls, earning moans from the both of you that seemed to come straight from your guts.
“Give it to me how you like it, baby,” he encourages, both of his hands planting firmly on your waist. “Use my cock however you need it, sweets, it’s yours.”
His words have your clit pulsating around his thick shaft, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you begin to work up a pace of your own that has your heart beating wildly.
“I always… fuck—I always knew you were obsessed with me,” you jest, your grin stretching wide.
Sylus hums, the sound low and deep, his iron grip on your hips helping you maintain the intensity of your movements whenever your muscles beg for a break. “Yeah? Needed me to be buried inside of you to have that bit of confirmation?”
You nod with a smile, hands wrapping around his neck as you plant your forehead against his. He smiles too, a breathy moan leaving his mouth as you circle your hips in a way that has him seeing stars.
“Fuck yeah, I’m obsessed with you,” he admits without a semblance of shame, tilting his head back on the headrest.
Already feeling your second orgasm approaching, you bury your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat that made a musk that was so beautifully Sylus. His hands smooth over your backside, giving your ass a squeeze.
“Tch, let me see that pretty face,” he demands, nudging you with his shoulder so that you were sitting up once more. “You look so beautiful like this.”
You struggle to form a sentence, bouncing unabashedly on his cock, skin slapping together in an erratic pattern that spurred you even further. A string of whimpers and whines leave your puffy lips. Though your reply lacked words, it perfectly communicated what you wanted to say.
“Oh, I know it, baby,” he rasps, tilting his head back again as his eyes slip shut. “Pussy’s addictive—shit, I’m obsessed with her too.”
You begin to lose yourself all together, reduced to nothing more than a blissed out woman riding her bodyguard’s cock. “Sylus, I… mmh, I’m gonna cum.”
He nods in understanding, smoothing his hand through your hair as he brings you in for another kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue, messy and drooling in the most beautiful way possible.
“Gonna come inside you if you keep riding me like this, baby,” he warns, pulling back to look you in the eyes.
You feel his cock twitch inside of you, as if it were confirming his words. You don’t do this often, contrary to popular belief, but you are on the pill. Luckily. “Please do.”
Sylus pants through a smile, licking his lips as he guides you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Huh… you really are something special.”
A deep groan leaves his mouth as he dips his head, grip tightening on your waist as you ride him through your shared orgasm. You aren’t sure where yours ended and his began, or if you had gotten the order wrong entirely. All you know is that in that moment, the two of you became one.
Panting, your hand plants on the fogged up window of the vehicle, leaving your handprint in its wake. Sylus lets out a breathy chuckle, raising his own shaking hand to the window.
You watch through lidded eyes as he draws a tiny heart, writing his and your first initials inside of it with a little + in the middle. How cute.
Sylus then turns to face you again, bringing his hand to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, placing a kiss on his skin. “I have something to admit.”
He nods his head a single time, beckoning you to continue. “What is it?”
You give him a wry smile. “My publicist never gave me the idea for that publicity stunt.”
“…I figured that much, sweetie.”
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note. bodyguard!sylus, my glorious king… ok i lowkey hate this but it holds no purpose saving up space in my drafts so :D pls interact if you enjoyed, rbs are greatly appreciated <3 thank you for readingggg !!!
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
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adrianvokov · 2 years ago
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willdamon headers, devil’s night.
like or reblog if you get any header.
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maddiesflame · 8 months ago
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alice pagani x hideaway layouts
like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame
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larryhabits · 1 year ago
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Billie Eilish + Damon Torrance packs
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• like or reblog if you use/save <3
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superectojazzmage · 4 months ago
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Just back from Alien Romulus and hoooo boy oh boy. Review/analysis.
Easily the best Alien movie since the first two, which isn't saying much, yeah, but it is legit a really cool and well-made movie, competing with Late Night With The Devil, Longlegs, and Cuckoo for title of my favorite horror movie this year.
In a lot of ways it's about harvesting the few good ideas from the post-2 movies that were squandered and doing them right, plus getting the series back to it's healthier roots, kinda the movie equivalent of someone doing physical therapy to get back in the saddle after an injury. This means it's not quite brand new ground like some may hope for and I've heard some people feel it gets a little derivative at points because of it. I can kinda agree and certainly understand that criticism, but I feel it does what it's aiming for really well and sets things up for future works to go in even crazier directions. Furthermore, it takes a lot of time to try and weld together the disparate post-2 movies in a way that brings the series back to a little coherency.
The atmosphere is really intense and cool, swinging between lovecraftian dread and build-up and high-energy chaos. The aesthetics and special effects are gorgeous, taking full advantage of the progress that technology has made since 2 plus really digging in to the used cassette future vibe of the older films. The characters are likable and actually intelligent (or at least understandable) in behavior like in the first two movies, so you care about what's happening to them instead of just waiting for them to get munched. The action and kills were really cool and creative, the cinematography in general was off-kilter in an awesome way - there's a definite attempt to make the movie feel claustrophobic and intimate. Fede Alvarez did a fantastic job in general, I'd love to see him do more with the series.
It REALLY cranks up the series' psychosexual, freudian, and sexual assault subtext, arguably to a point where it's just plain text. So if you're sensitive to stuff like that or if this is your first go at Alien, be warned for that.
More specific notes go under the header for spoilers. Highly recommend you go in as blind as you can.
Andy and Rain were wonderful leads, their dynamic was fantastic and Calie Spaeny and David Jonsson both turned in great performances. I direly hope they join the first two films' casts as "major" characters for the series going forward.
The effects to make Daniel Betts look like Ian Holms were quite possibly the one and only time the special effects failed. It looks very wonky, which is sad because Betts does a really good job copying Holms' mannerisms for Ash while still making Rook feel like a distinct character.
In addition to the usual themes of sexual unease, genetics, and parenthood, this movie adds in some really interesting themes of familial legacy, the rise of new generations, foundations, etc.. Andy and Rain are like Romulus and Remus of myth, orphaned and left to fend for themselves but growing into founders of a new age - both in-story with their carrying the XX121 substance and evidence of Weyland-Yutani's misdeeds to Yvaga and out-of-story with them being the protagonists of a new era for Alien. Likewise, the Offspring is the first example of an entirely new species, neither human nor alien but taking from the lineages of both through Kay and Big Chap, a Romulus-like founder of it's breed that will later bear fruit in Resurrection with the Ripley clone and Newborn.
I'm really not kidding when I say above that the psychosexual undercurrents are taken to the extreme here. This movie basically sees the ways the original film subtly pin-pricked at those themes, says "fuck that", and deliberately rubs it in your face in a way designed to make sure you can't ignore it. It wants you to be grossed out and to squirm in your chair and it knows exactly how to make it happen.
Alvarez noted in the lead-up to release that he took a lot of influence from Isolation and you can definitely see that in how he depicts the Xenomorphs and the general aura of the film. He further described it as a kind of halfway point between the first and second movies and you can also see that; it has the Lovecraft-style tension and horror of the first, balanced with the energy and action of the second, and it does a really good job finding a middle ground between Ridley Scott and James Cameron's styles while also doing it's own dance.
I mentioned way back at the start how the movie basically harvests the good ideas from 3, Resurrection, Prometheus, and Covenant and gives them the room they deserve while dumping the bad. It does that in both terms of themes/style and continuity/lore. Concepts that those movies bungled like xeno-human hybridism, the black goo, genetic engineering as a focus, and so on are done here more creatively and competently. Themes that those films tried and failed to tackle are handled with significantly more grace. It has the atmosphere and characterization of 3 but none of it's baggage and needlessly depressive tone. It has the body horror and weirdness of Resurrection without taking it to the zany, embarrassing areas that movie went. The effects and creativity of Prometheus and Covenant without any of their awful writing and clumsy messages. Alvarez takes on kind of an Al Ewing-esque "repairman" writing style here.
The Xenomorphs are absolutely deranged in behavior compared to most portrayals, attacking like either cruel sadists or raging chimps and rarely bothering to take hosts. I'm not sure if such a reading was intended, but I got the vibe that the idea is Xenos raised without a queen or hive grow to be basically sociopathic like how real world predatory animals grown without parental figures become feral and dysfunctional. Which would also explain a lot about how the Xeno in the original movie, Big Chap, acts there.
The Offspring's design is fucking wicked and I love it.
One of my few major criticisms is that Big Chap died off-screen instead of getting more to do. What was the point of having him be alive at the start if he wasn't gonna be used beyond a backstory point to set up the main story?
All in all, a very impressive effort and a great return to form for the series that I recommend highly.
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little-diable · 1 year ago
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The Devil is Among Us - Tom Riddle (smut)
I just love writing priest!Riddle, he's def my fave. Nevertheless, remember: Don't like it, don't read it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader is in a desperate need, asking the Devil himself to help her with the daily struggles she keeps on facing. But what will she do when suddenly her local priest turns up?
Warnings: 18+, smut, unrpotected piv, blowjob, loss of virginity, praise kink, sex in a church, mentions blood, power play, religious connotations, biblical beings
Pairing: Priest/Devil!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (3k words)
header by @deathofpeaceofmind
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The candles danced in the thick blanket of darkness surrounding (y/n), knees pressed to the ground, hands tightly gripping the leatherbound book she was reading. No sound could be heard, nothing but a bone-chilling silence that made goosebumps rise on her skin, unsure if she should keep on doing this. 
For a moment (y/n)’s eyes flickered up from the page she was reading, studying the pentagram she had drawn on the ground, following every step of the ritual. Her heart was pounding, roaring in her chest in hopes of ripping her away from this scene before she could take the last step. But she was determined, set on following through with the ritual she had been studying for nights on end.
With a deep breath sucked into her lungs, (y/n) reached for the knife laying next to her, trembling hand pushing it closer to the candles. She watched the reflection of the flames dance in the shiny blade, heating up the material before she brought the blade back to her wrist. A hiss rolled off her tongue as she cut her skin, collecting drops of her blood in the old goblet she had thrifted weeks ago. 
The first words began to roll off her tongue, latin words she knew by heart, forcing them into her brain. Her eyes fluttered close as (y/n) rose to her feet, positioning herself in the middle of the pentagram, letting the blood drip down onto the candles, while she kept speaking the words. 
Her body couldn’t stop trembling, sensing the danger before her mind could pick up on it, but (y/n) couldn’t stop now, not after waiting for this very night to come upon her for weeks. She had prepared everything, carefully, not daring to tell anybody about what she was doing, trying to summon the Devil, the one that could help free her from the mess she found herself stuck in. All she needed was some of his help, ripping those from (y/n) that talked down on her, that pushed her away from gatherings, treating her like an outcast. 
As soon as the last word was spoken, the goblet fell from her hands, clashing to the ground with a sound so shrill, (y/n) couldn’t help but jerk in surprise. She held still, kept her mouth shut, waiting for something to happen, anything, and yet nothing did. Seconds kept fading by, seconds turning into one minute, then two, then three – till the first wave of defeat began to flush through her. 
With a sigh leaving her (y/n) found herself groaning, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion, wondering what she had done wrong. But before another sound of hers could echo through the dark basement, the sound of somebody slowly clapping their hands filled the room, making her eyes snap towards the dark corner across from her. The sound of chuckles rang in her ears, eyes desperately trying to focus on the person hiding away from her. 
“I have to say, (y/n), I’m impressed.” A familiar voice filled the basement, and yet (y/n) couldn’t pinpoint where she knew the male voice from. Fear filled her body, thumping through her veins as she began to take a step back, almost knocking over the candles. “What? First you summon me, and now you’re afraid of me? C’mon, (y/n), I expected better from you.”
The sound of a chair being pushed back left her gasping, boots meeting the cold ground till the man’s frame was exposed to her. Her eyes met an all too familiar pair of pupils staring at her, making her gasp in surprise.
“Priest Riddle? What are you doing here? How did you –” the sound of laughter once again interrupted (y/n), forcing the young woman to keep quiet. The man kept walking closer, till he came to halt in front of her trembling frame, staring down on her with a smirk tugging on his lips. He picked the goblet up, thumb collecting a few last drops of her blood before he pressed his now red digit against her parted lips. 
“So naive, so stupid, don’t disappoint me, (y/n). You know why I’m here.” Shaky breaths left her, shaking her head as if she was trying to wake from this nightmare. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be. 
“You’re a priest, how – how could you possibly be Him?” It was nothing but a whisper, a sound so quiet even her own two ears struggled to pick up on it. He tilted his head, didn’t break eye contact once as his hand began to move down her throat, finding its way to her chest. (Y/n) felt her heart skipping beats, a power so strong was pressing down on the strong muscle, she failed to keep on breathing. 
“Haven’t you heard? I like to keep those close who fear me, I enjoy their whimpers, how they ache for guidance because they fear ending up in my claws. It's pathetic.” Only as he pulled his hand away did she manage to suck another breath into her lungs, glassy eyes searching his firey ones. “You asked me here, because you want something from me. Speak freely, (y/n).”
“I,” she stumbled over her words, no longer able to remember why she had tried to call the Devil himself, no longer remembering the pain she was forced to endure day in, night out. Her eyes couldn’t leave his features, the smirk that had an awfully unfamiliar touch to it, not fitting the face of the priest she had known for years. “Do you remember what I told you last month? In the confessionary?” 
“I do, of course I do.” The softness of his voice left her heart roaring, torn between her fear and her curiosity, body moving closer before her mind could pick up on the movement. His eyes followed her around, like a moth drawn to a flame, like a sinner drawn to the Devil, a perfect match. 
“I want it all to stop, the rumours, the pain, everything.” A hum left the tall man, he pondered over her words, eyes flickering down to her fingers, watching her fumble with the fabric of her blouse. His cold hand found her chin, forcing her eyes back to meet his, the pupils that have seen more pain than one could even begin to understand. 
“You know it’ll come with a price, don’t you?” Her pupils grew wide once again, clearly (y/n) hadn’t thought about the price she’d have to pay, wondering what he may ask of her. 
“Do I have to sell my soul to you?” The words leaving her lips in nothing but a whisper left the man chuckling, head thrown back to release the sound. He shook his head, clicking his tongue as if he was trying to keep her frozen to the spot, not daring to let go of her warm skin just yet. 
“Whoever told you that clearly wanted to frighten you, sweet (y/n). No, I don’t want your soul, but your body. Give yourself to me, and I will follow your request.” She choked on her breath, unable to rip herself free as he tightened his grip even further. Her heart once again picked up its pounding pace, roaring in her chest, begging (y/n) to pull back. No man had ever touched her, not one man had been able to reach for her heart nor her soul, hidden from greedy eyes and greedy fingers. 
“Can I think about it?” He shook his head, wordlessly circling her in even further, forcing (y/n) to make her decision right there, right then. “Okay. I will do it.”
“Good girl,” the praise left her shuddering, straightening her back as goosebumps rose on her skin. All he could do was laugh, watching her body tense at his words, very well aware that he’ll have his fun with (y/n), the one he had been watching from afar, expecting this very day to roll upon them. “I’ll expect to see you tomorrow for my morning service, (y/n).”
And with a nod thrown his way, (y/n) watched him disappear in front of her wide eyes, leaving her to wonder if this had been a dream, a trick of her brain. 
……
With her eyes set on the tall man, (y/n) followed the others, walking closer and closer to receive the body of Christ. Her heart was pounding, wondering if he’d say something to her, if he’d tease her once again. Just the mere thought about what she had experienced yesterday evening left her feeling uneasy, thighs trembling. 
“Open your mouth, (y/n).” The command forced a sigh from her, lips slowly parting to expose her tongue to him. Without breaking eye contact he pushed the host down on the strong muscle, making him smirk as he watched her pupils dilate. With a nod thrown her way, he allowed her to turn back to the waiting crowd, none of them seemed to pick up on the shudders his touch shot down her spine, none of them seemed to pick up on the way her skin grew hotter with every passing second. 
The Devil had her trapped, caught in a dark web of lies, of pretending, a web she couldn’t break from. 
No longer could (y/n) spare any attention to the end of the service, hanging onto his every word without picking up on what he was actually speaking, imagination running wild, forcing sinful pictures into her mind. She could only guess that he’d be ruthless with her, he will take what he is aching for – that much she was sure of. 
Only as he ended the service with one last “Amen” leaving him did (y/n) snap out of her trance, eyes watching the others pour out of the church, while she stayed seated. He leaned back against the altar, arms crossed in front of his chest as he wordlessly forced her to walk towards him, almost stumbling over her feet as the pull inside her grew stronger and stronger. 
“Kneel.” The word echoed through the empty church, making her eyes snap up to meet his as (y/n) fell to her knees in front of him. She watched him loosen his white collar, plastic placed down on the altar before he began to roll up the sleeves of his black dress shirt. “Will you stick to your promise, sweet (y/n)?”
“I will.” Her whisper left him smirking once again, eyebrows raised as he waited for her to keep on speaking. “I will give myself to you. But how will I know that I can trust you? You’re fooling those around you, all of it is blasphemy, is it not?” 
The man’s deep laughter rumbled through him, shaking his head as he reached for her jaw just like he had done yesterday evening. His thumb was forced into her mouth, pressing down on her tongue to make (y/n) suck on the finger, drawing a raspy groan from him. “You’ve always been my favourite, (y/n). I knew you’d be good, such a good girl for me. A deal is a deal, I won’t back out, you have my word.” 
Trusting the word of the Devil, how pathetic, how naive of her. 
“What should I call you?” Her whispered question was left unanswered, drowned out by the sound of him undoing his trousers, exposing his throbbing cock to her curious eyes. She stared at him without moving, unable to speak another word, mouth growing dry, throat growing tight. She had never seen a man naked before, had never even dared to imagine what she was seeing now, and yet (y/n) couldn’t stop the anticipation from thumbing through her veins, making her tremble for more.  
“Part those pretty lips for me, darling.” He pushed his cock past her lips, leaving her to instantly choke. Water filled her pupils, blurring her sight for a moment. The man didn’t hold back, his hand found the back of her head, forcing her to pick up a bobbing motion. Without seeking any further guidance her hands moved up his thighs, grasping his cock. 
It took her a few tries to adjust, but (y/n) was determined, set on pleasing the man who’d help her out, the being with a soul so dark, her mind couldn’t even begin to understand what he was capable of. Her hands trembled, struggling to move in sync with the speed of her bobbing motion, taking him deeper and deeper. He was a groaning mess, producing sounds that left her cunt begging for his attention, needing to be touched like she had never been touched before. 
“Mhm, I should keep you, make you mine for eternity. I know you’d do well serving me.” (Y/n) could only whimper around him, not expecting him to jerk his hips, fucking her mouth without a warning rolling off his tongue. Spit dripped from her mouth, strings of saliva connected her lips to the tip of his cock as he allowed her to pull away, catching her breath as her hands kept moving. “Fuck, look at you, so oblivious, so naive, and yet your hands know how to touch me.”
An unfamiliar sense of pride flushed through her, taking him into her mouth once again. (Y/n) was eager, set on proving her worth to the king of darkness, the one all sinners followed through the darkest night. She was his, had sold her soul without knowing so, and yet (y/n) felt protected, safe, and appreciated by him. A trick of his mind that forced her to do whatever he asked of her. 
“Tell me, are you ready to take me?” The question left her swallowing, unable to reply, not knowing what was awaiting her. He didn’t give her any time to ponder on the question, pulled away from her to pick her up, setting her down on the cold altar. Her gasps rang in their ears, making him chuckle with a dark expression tugging on his features. There was no way out, she was stuck, forced to the being without any chance to snap the unbreakable bond. 
He spread her legs, hands disappearing underneath her skirt, feeling the damp fabric of her panties. She didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare move, wondering what would happen, how he’d touch her, how he’d make her feel. Her heart was pounding, mind racing, paying attention to his every touch. 
“You’re soaked, dripping for me, so inexperienced, but your body knows just what it wants, doesn’t it?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, allowing him to pull her panties down her legs, making the cold air hit her warm skin. A moan ripped through her as his fingers brushed through her slit, pumping into her without giving (y/n) the chance to adjust. He fucked her with his fingers, rubbed her pulsing bundle of nerves with his cold thumb, making her writhe. 
“Oh god, feels good.” Her head rolled back, hands finding his forearms, desperate to hold onto the ancient being. She barely picked up on the teasing words he spoke, couldn’t care about the things he was speaking, fully focused on the new sensation, hoping that this moment would last forever. 
“God isn’t around, He won’t help you, not as long as you’re mine.” Darkness engulfed her as (y/n)’s eyes fluttered close, drawing sobs, moans, and whimpers from her body, sounds growing louder as he pulled away, as he stopped touching her. Her hazy eyes watched him align himself with her cunt, slowly pushing into her, making her body tremble in pain. 
It took her a while to adjust to the stretch, needing to breathe through the pain, while he slowly fucked into her. With their eyes connected, he placed one hand down on the altar, while the other found the back of her neck, forcing her lips to meet his, officially sealing their deal without (y/n) knowing so. He had claimed her, had made her the devil’s toy, nothing would ever free her from him. The being tasted of darkness, of a rich darkness that was so unfamiliar she’d never taste it again. 
Curses left her, words he found himself chuckling about as he built up the pace of his thrusts, ruthlessly, merciless fucking (y/n) on the holy altar. There was nothing sweet about the first time she was touched, and yet (y/n) felt grateful that he was the one touching her, that she had given herself to him, to him only. 
Her walls clenched around his cock whenever he nudged her sweet spot, murmuring a soft “Touch yourself” against her neck. With trembling fingers she began to rub her clit, eyes fluttering close once again, arching her chest against his. (Y/n) felt him suck marks into her skin, marks she’d carry around with herself till her last day on this very earth, forever marked by the Devil himself. 
No words helped her express the intense feeling building itself up inside of her, thumping through her veins, making her quiver. She came with a gasp, clinging onto her orgasm in hopes of prolonging the feeling. He kept on fucking her, even as her body trembled from the overstimulation, begging him to give in.  
With his hand finding her jaw, holding onto her, he came inside of her, painting her walls white with a deep groan clawing through him. She felt his heat filling her, stretching itself through her body, a sensation she’d forever remember, stuck in the holy halls, closer to God than she had ever been before. 
“I expect you to return, you’re mine now, you belong to me. I will take care of my end of the deal. But know that there’s no way back.”
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