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gilverrwrites · 3 days

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ok so this is my self indulgent request; the reader is black mask's girl and he gets jealous and annoyed when the riddler keeps flirting with her. i know that man would be seething lmao.

Easy To Lose

Black Mask/Reader/The Riddler, ≈900 words

A/N: You're speaking my language. Although, while I've been playing with some unpublished Riddler stuff, this is the first time I've posted him in sooooooo long, I hope I still do him justice - even if he is a little shit in this lmao. Also is HoH, I will die on that hill. Anyway, I really hope this scratches the right itch for you 💚

The Riddler takes his opportunity to chat you up when Roman is otherwise occupied. Rating: 18+

CWs: Swearing, name calling (freak, coward, pussy), unhealthy/toxic relationships, jealousy/possessiveness, allusions to (kinky) sex, allusions to violence. Reader is GN but hair longish hair.

Please remember: as long as you're trying, you're probably doing better than you think.

Alerted by the muffled sound of a familiar voice you cock your head up, greeted by the smiling face of Edward Nygma, sitting in the unoccupied side of your booth. Roman who is sitting beside you does not offer the same courtesy, too engrossed in sending an email on his phone. If he’d even noticed Ed at all. The thickness of his mask made Roman hard of hearing at the best of times. Combine that with the loud thrum of the club’s music, and Roman was often lost to the world if he wasn’t looking right at it.

“Huh?” You lean over the table, turning your head to the side, indicating for him to clarify.

“I said;” Ed follows your lead, leaning in until his lips are close enough to press to your ear. His breath is warm, and steeped with the sweet smell of alcohol, something with gin if you had to guess. “What is rarer, and more valuable than gold, but easier to lose?”

Tongue in cheek you glance back at Roman, who remains undisturbed, despite his passive hold on your back having been broken. You wonder how he’ll react when he finally realises what is going on, he’d never been a fan of The Riddler. Ed had never bothered you so much, yes, he could be egotistical and yes, he loved to patronise, but he was also fun, especially when there were drinks involved. Perhaps your time in the bed of Gotham’s underworld had tainted one too many red flags green.

Turning back to Ed you shrug and ask; “What?”

Without missing a beat Ed reaches a hand up and twirls a finger in a stray lock of your hair. He massages it between his thumb and forefinger bringing it to his nose, and inhaling the scent with his eyes closed. You don’t mind the anticipation, watching his coy smile as he eventually drops your hair, and taps his finger to your nose as he gives you your answer. “You, my dear.”

You laugh. You bat his shoulder playfully and laugh, and laugh, and laugh until you feel the smooth, hard press of leather cup the back of your neck. Your body freezes, all for your head which turns slowly to face Roman, who has finally clocked onto Ed's presence, his near-black eyes boring into you beneath the shadows of his mask’s sunken eyeholes.

“What is this?” Unlike Ed, his voice can be heard over the music, likely by anyone in a half mile radius. Although, it occurs to you now that he and Ed had very different intentions.

Before you can answer, Ed jumps in, always eager to hear the sound of his own voice, or to stir the pot. Probably both.

“I simply saw this poor dear looking neglected, and thought to myself, who better to offer them some much deserved attention than myself. You ought to be more careful Sionis, lots of people around who might want to steal this one away. Decent, meritorious people.”

Ed reaches up to your hair once more but before he can make contact, Roman pulls you back by the scruff of your neck until you’re snug beside him again, fingers still digging into your soft skin. He’d never pull or squeeze hard enough to really hurt you, at least not outside the bedroom, but there is enough force in it to offer you a warning, to tell you he’s not happy.

“I can’t hear a word that freak’s talkin’ about.” He informs you. He can tell he’s trying to act calm, but his duel grip on your neck and the wood of the table proves otherwise. His neck is taught and red as he juts his jaw back and forth. “So, I’m gonna ask you this once, you think real hard about what comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours alright? What’s he been sayin’ to you?”

You don’t need to think hard about it. You’re only going home with one of them tonight, and you want to stay on his good side, and if your confession fuels his fire, so be it. Ed wasn’t the only one who could stir a pot.

The wood of his mask is rigid and cool as you press your lips to the spot that covers his ear. “He said I’m rare, and valuable, and that he wanted to steal me away from you.”

“He fuckin’ what.” It’s not a question, it’s an expletive, a threat. In seconds Roman is on his feet ready for a fight, but when you both look over, Ed is gone. Swallowed amongst the sea of clubbers. His bright green attire blending in amongst the ever-changing lights of the club.

“Fuckin coward,” Roman yells, slamming his fists on the table. His chest heaves as he processes his next step, as he decides if he’s going to go after him or not. You help in his decision-making by resting your hand on his wrist and tugging until he looks at you. His eyes dart back and forth between you and the crowd before he gestures to the sea of people. “Is that the kinda man you want baby? A goddamn pussy? Tryin’ to move in on what’s mine and can’t even face me.”

“No…” You coo, shaking your head. When he settles back into the booth you shuffle close to him again. “You know I only want you.”

“Fuckin’ right you do.” He runs a firm hand through your hair until he finds the soft spot at the nap of your neck where he locks his fingers in, using it to pull you even closer. “Guess I’ll have to stake my claim another way. For tonight.”

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#the riddler #black mask #roman sionis #edward nygma #edward nigma #the riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #roman sionis x reader #black mask x reader #gilverrwrites

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gilverrwrites · 3 days

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hi i just found your blog and i wanted to say im so happy you write for adam and michael i love them and you write them so well plus there’s not nearly enough content for them!! hope you’re doing well 🤍

I'm glad you like the way I write them, they are so underappreciated and im happy to do my bit in creating any content I can for them.

I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day/night 🤍

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gilverrwrites · 3 days

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Harbinger

Godstiel/Reader, ≈600 words

AN: I've had a few requests for more Castiel/Reader, and this is probably not what youse had in mind, but I recently watched season 7 and, well, I had to write this.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, you'd never doubted Castiel and his intentions. Until now. Rating: 18+

CWs: Religious themes, bible quotes, dub-con, self-hate.

Please remember: Self love isn't selfish.

“It is I, be not afraid.”

“Cas?”

When Castiel had approached you, requesting to touch your soul, asking you to put your life on the line to help him fight an angelic war you had no part in, you’d complied, without hesitation. He had saved you countless times, rebelled when it would have benefited him not to. He was one of the good ones. Even as you’d laid beneath him, vulnerable, and in the worst pain imaginable, you’d thought; it was the least you could do.

When Bobby and the boys had begun to doubt his intentions, his motives, when they’d begun to suspect he was working with Crowley, you’d defended him. Perhaps those things were true, but he’d given you enough titbits to believe his intentions were good, that he would prevail. If he loses the war, who knows what repercussions might befall you, your friends, your family, all of humanity. You were sure his motives were just.

When you’d seen the massacres in the papers, and on the news, your dedication still didn’t falter. Sure, those people were not the creatures you’d become accustomed to killing, but what were racists, homophobes, and corrupt politicians, if not monsters by another name?

But now, as he stood before you, red and decaying; malformed, your faith wavered. If the power he held was truly meant for good, why was it destroying him?

“I am the Lord, your God.” He corrects you. His voice is as cold and unfeeling as it had been the day you met. All the warmth and curiosity he’d developed, the traits you’d come to appreciate and associate with him were gone. You’d helped him win the war, but at what cost? “Bow down and profess your love unto me.”

Despite your doubts, you fall to your knees. If he could execute offices, churches, and towns full of people with the click of a finger, what could he do to you? Unable to look at the rot on his skin, unsure if a mortal such as yourself should, you fix your gaze on his shoes as they drag along the carpet until he stands before you.

“I sense your uncertainty.” He places a hand on your forehead, it is clammy and damp, entirely unpleasant, yet it still sends a thrill through your body, sparking conflict between the fearful pit in your stomach and the salacious heat growing between your legs. “But I know that your love for me will control you. Your devotion has proved this thus far.”

Your heart pounds as he trails a single finger down the centre of your face, ghosting past your nose, before pressing to your lips, ensuring your silence as he continues.

“Free me.”

A spark of hope thrums through your body, without thinking you look to his face, hoping to see the face of your friend looking back, one who has come to you for help, for freedom from power that is clearly corroding him from the inside out. Instead, you are greeted by a being high on their own might. A smile that is enjoying your obedience, eyes that watch you with idle lust, and you know the true intent of his command.

Hope vanquished, you let your head fall once more, but Castiel catches you with the same finger he had pressed to your lips, aligning your face with his crotch. Free him.

You’d enabled this to happen, the harbinger of mutual destruction.

Clearly still sensing your dismay, seeing how your hands shake as you reach for him, he whispers what he likely thinks is solace, provocation.

“Your most important identity is not by your name, but you being loved by me.”

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#castiel #godstiel #castiel x reader #castiel fic #godstiel x reader #godstiel fic

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gilverrwrites · 5 days

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gilverrwrites · 5 days

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Hmmm ... I have a Black Mask request for a free use S/O with masochistic tendencies? 👀🖤

are those the only requirements or did you have something more specific in mind?

#👀👀👀👀

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gilverrwrites · 6 days

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I don't have an explanation, I just wanted to draw Roman in a pink shirt, have a nice day.

#black mask #roman sionis #two face #harvey dent #the penguin #oswald cobblepot #batman villains #batman #dc

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gilverrwrites · 7 days

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I loved the original version of Not What It Looks Like and I think the new version is even better!

I'm glad you didn't change too much because it was already so good, but the added details and descriptions really elevate it. The changes are subtle, but very effective.

Hell yeah! That was the effect I’d hoped for, glad it was worth the risk.

So happy you’ve enjoyed both versions and thank you for the feedback 🖤

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gilverrwrites · 7 days

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YESSSSS THANK YOU ITS SO GOOD

YOURE WELCOME 🖤❤️ Glad it’s still good!

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gilverrwrites · 7 days

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This up now:

🖤🖤🖤

hiiiiiii! would you consider putting that fic you wrote about roman walking in on the reader and one of his goons and getting the wrong on idea on ao3? i love that one so much.

I’m planning too, I just wanna proof read it and change a couple of minor details first, I’ll probably repost the updated version on here to when it’s done 🖤

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gilverrwrites · 7 days

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Not What It Looks Like

Black Mask/Reader, 1.7K words

AN: This is an updated version of a fic, I originally wrote and published about 9ish years ago. Please enjoy, and if you've read them both please let me know which you prefer, or if you noticed any differences, I'm just curious.

Roman finds you in a pretty precarious position with one of his men. Obviously he won't stand for this, you'll both need to be taught very different lessons. Rating: 18+

CWs: Non-con touching, general crudeness, violence, yelling, swearing, slut shaming, spanking. Reader is GN but has long hair.

Please remember: to rest when you need to.

You heard it before you felt it, a familiar THWACK sound as a gloved hand meets your behind, making you yelp at both the sound and the sting. Instantly, you spun around, furrowing your brows at the faceless thug waving his guilty hand.

“A donkey mask, how appropriate.” You remarked, before spinning back around, arms folded. As much as you were dying to give the primitive creep a mouthful, you had far more important things to be getting on with. Most immediately, Roman was expecting you on the top floor for a very important business meeting in less than five minutes.

“Hung like a one too! Why’d ya think I chose this mask?” His meaty hand wrapping around your wrist, preventing you from going anywhere. He spun you back to face him and you catch a whiff of his cheap plastic mask. Instinctively, you try to pull away again, with no luck. His grip on your arm is like a vice. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Is that so?” You smile, feigning as much interest as you can muster. Time to change tactics. Slowly, you placed your hand on his chest, inching it down over his stomach, ever to slowly, until your hand hovers inches away from the growing bulge in his pants, you were ready to draw back and give it a straight punch when the sound of a deliberate cough catches your attention.

Heart sinking as you spun your head around, your eyes locking onto Black Mask himself. He leans in the doorway, radiating authority, control. The way the light hit his mask might fool someone into thinking he’s smiling, but you could only imagine the terrifying look of rage that most likely hid behind the layer of dark wood.

“I- It’s not what it looks like.” Was all you managed to squeak out before he strode over, not even stopping to look at you. Hook, line, and sinker… Roman slammed his fist into the man’s face, the donkey mask caved in on itself before the thug plummeted to the floor. His grip around your wrist never wavering, forcing you to topple down with him. As soon as he let go you quickly rolled away, using the closest wall as leverage to aid you in getting back on your feet.

You know better than to interfere, so you watch on, fascinated, as Black Mask delivers kick after kick to the man on the ground. Screaming obscenities to make a sailor blush, until his throat is red and veiny. There is no point in trying anything until he’s done letting of that steam, he’ll come back down to earth eventually, and you’ll face the music then.

When the time comes, your mule friend lays on the ground, silent and unmoving. Black Mask turns slowly to face you, giving you his now undivided attention. You could imagine a raised brow lurking beneath the Mask as he contemplates his next step. You remain silent as he grabs your upper arm, dragging you over to his private elevator.

Hastily, you gesture to the receptionist, silently telling her to check that the mule is still breathing.

With no grace at all, you’re forced into the elevator, the moment its metal doors close, Roman has you pressed to the wall. His breath on your neck, his hands patting and stroking at your skin.

“Are you hurt?” He questioned quickly; voice still laced with anger. “I didn’t mean to take you down too. I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m okay, don’t worry.” You reassured him, reaching to place a hand on his shoulder only for him to shrug it off.

“Good.” He grunts between clenched teeth, plating a kiss on your shoulder before drawing away, turning his back to you. He paces around the small space before his fist makes contact with the solid metal wall. Your lips part, but you’re silenced by Roman wagging a finger in your face. “You’ve got a lot of fuckin’ explainin’ to do.”

Before you can say another word, the elevator dings, alerting that you’ve reach the top floor, Roman’s office. Two suited men stand from their seats before Roman’s desk as the door opens up. Presumably they’re the men you had business plans with. Both smile, reaching their hands for you to shake but Roman reached them first.

“Forgive me fellas, but we’re going to have to cut this meeting short.” He insists, walking straight past them, one arm pointed at his door.

“But Mr Sionis,” One of them spoke up, “We only just got here.”

“If you’d like to talk to Stephanie outside, Mr Sionis’ secretary, she’ll be more than happy to reschedule for you.” You smile apologetically, walking them to the door. “We hope to see you again soon.”

Before the door had even closed Roman’s hand are on you, pulling you towards the head of his office. You’re already slightly sore butt meets the cold glass of Roman’s desk with a thud, and you rearrange yourself until you’re seated more comfortably. Your hands wrapping around your chest as you wait for Roman to start yelling. It wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself at the brunt of his anger… and hopefully it won’t be the last.

You watched him taking a deep breath, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he faced you, he almost looks like he’s trying calm himself, you know better.

“What the fuck? Where do I even start?” He begins, and you instinctively shrink away from his voice. “Tell me you ain’t fucking cheating on me doll. Tell me now. Tell me you’re not spending your spare time fucking that ingrate.”

“Of course I’m not cheating on you.” You respond quickly, fighting the urge to reach out for him, to beg for his comfort. He’ll touch you when he’s ready, anything sooner will result in a harsher punishment. “I would never do that, you’re all I could ever need.”

“Then why are you downstairs actin like a slut, rubbin’ up against my men, makin’ me look like a fool, while I’m up here workin’ my ass off?”

“That’s not what happened!” You exclaim, hoping to sound assertive without raising your voice too much. “He started coming onto me and I was about to push him away w-”

“That’s not what it looked like from my angle.” He snaps back at you, arms folding over his broad chest as he slowly begins to close the distance between you.

“I know but I swear, I was half a second away from punching him the dick.” You attempted to reassure. Trying not to let his closeness distract you from your point. Even as his hands met the glass either side of you. “I’d die before I did something so s-”

He cuts you off, hard lips push against yours with so much force it feels like hitting your face on a brick wall. His hands quickly begin tugging at the roots of your hair. He gives your scalp a sharp pull, and predictably you open your mouth to gasp, allowing him to shove his hot tongue into your mouth, licking up whatever he can reach. You close your lips around his tongue and suck, just how he likes it.

The kiss the permission you’ve been waiting for to touch him. Cautiously, your hands travel his chest, fingers fiddling with the lapels of his jacket. In return, his fingers run the length of your back, nails raking at your skin even through the thin fabric of your shirt, until finally resting on your already aching ass. Using your cheeks as leverage, he pulls you into a standing position, forcing your chest to chest and allowing him complete access to your body.

You knew exactly what was coming. His hand draws back before slapping straight back down on your asscheeks, with aim that’s far more precise and force that’s twice as hard as the man in the donkey mask.

Even with Roman’s tongue firmly in your mouth and acting as a muffler, you can’t help the loud yelp that escapes your mouth. Romans chest shakes against yours as he chuckles at your reaction, winding his hand back he spanks you again, and again, and again.

“Mine. This is mine.” He barks, not bothering to with draw from you long enough to make his words fully discernible. Unable to think straight, let alone speak, you respond by nodding, affirming his statement. You are his.

All to soon a strong hand crawls up your back once more, fingers thread into your hair again, jerking you back and forcing you to detach yourself from Roman’s tongue with a whine. Amused eyes burn into yours, soaking in your already heavy lids and parted lips, before dipping down.

You frown, but your objections are quickly silenced when you feel Roman licking his way up your throat. Hands grip either side of your shirt and pull it apart, allowing him more access. You make a mental note to pick the played buttons up later.

Impatiently he yanked your shirt down your arms, not bothering to completely remove it before latching onto your shoulder, nipping and biting at the skin. The hard lips of his mask leaving deeper marks than his teeth could manage. The tenderness of each indent soothed by the warm mix of your blood and his spit.

“Mine.” He repeats, the cool wood of his face brushed over your skin, making you shiver. “Who do you belong to? Who touches you like this? Who?”

“You.” You pant without hesitation. “You do. Yours, Roman.”

“That’s right…” He grunts, letting go of your hair and gently pushing you back against his desk. “Me.”

You watch with bated breath as he removes his jacket, reaching out to assist in undoing his tie, planting chaste kisses to his throat as you work.

“It really didn’t mean anything.” Now is not the time to reaffirm, to distract, but you can’t help it. You want your innocence abundantly clear; you would never betray him. “He had a hold of me, I was about to make him regret it.”

He chuckles again, brushing a stray hair away from your face. “I believe you.”

Smiling, relieved, you place his tie on the desk behind you before starting on the buttons of his shirt, placing kisses to the sections of his chest that aren’t concealed by his vest.

“But you still let him put his hands on you.” He remarks, a playfulness in his voice that never fails to send a shiver down your spine. His hands wrap firmly on each of your arms, turning you around and bending you over his desk. “I’m gonna have to punish you for that, how else will you learn?”

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#black mask x reader #black mask #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis #gilverrwrites #black mask imagine #roman sionis imagine

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