Denzer 🦋🍂🏒

@denzerwriter.bsky.social

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Ash (she/her) 🇮🇪 | Overenthusiastic Overthinker | Indie Author | Swear Jar Requirer Please No Minors 🔞

Unbroken Denzer Summary: He found her sleeping in the stables, curled up in the stall of his newest, unbroken colt... Picture: Terrible Manip of Rey with a horse
I've been blazing across the galaxy, unstoppable as a comet I'd wrench myself from the heart of a black hole to be here, to do this not even gravity could defy me I am the one with the iron grip
Ignition by Denzer, text over manip of Ben Solo in 80's clothes, leather jacket slung over his shoulder, on a rainy street.
The call Shane made was to tell the scary bird to leave his boyfriend alone
Cover of the book Alchemised by SenLinYu
Text 'Ignition by Denzer A Reylo 80's Romance' over a manipulated photo of Ben Solo walking on a wet street wearing 80's style clothing of dark jeans, tank top and leather jacket
comment on a google doc reads fuck off I'm going to die of poetic jealousy. When the doctors say its a stroke - read them this fucking sentence
Super hot guy licking his bicep
A phone being used to text the love of Shane's life while plugged in to a charger
An ice hockey player smiling with his hands raised. Overlaid Text reads for you mama
a manip of a man on a rainy street overlaid with the text Ignition, a Reylo 80's romance by Denzer
A room absolutely destroyed by two alphas who didn't trigger each others ruts
a comment from the A03 website in all caps: get away from her you scammer
a woman's hand on a man's chest overlaid with the text 'Muzzled by Denzer'
Rey draws him down to ghost a soft kiss on his forehead, his temple, the bulging skin of his upper cheek. “I’m sorry there’s no blankets,” she whispers, “I would have made it nice for you.” There’s no regret in her voice, just an understanding that this is where the softness ends, where the pretense draws to a close. Where he takes her hard and fast against the bare bars of a cage with his teeth held at bay so he won’t sink them into her.
A screenshot of a text conversation Person 1: I'm a sweet innocent thing who just happens to be writing two semi human hot people banging in an underground cage Person 2: Jesus Christ. How are we friends. Person 1: Oh he (Jesus) won't help you here.
a mans hands on a steering while driving in low sun overlaid with the text Bank On It by Denzer
Let it grow by quamquam20 poinsettia foreground over a picture of a handsome man in a suit and a beautiful woman in a Christmas sweater and a Santa hat
A round brush with a fuck ton of hair stuck in it, held over a sink that holds even more of my hair.
a close up of a man's hands on a steering wheel with title Bank On It by Denzer
Adam driver deffo standing in front of a Star wars pinball machine
Book cover for Witch Light by Susan Fletcher
a man in jeans and a black vest walks down a rainy street with a leather jacket over his shoulder - the texts reads Ignition - a reylo 80's romance by Denzer
“You know, there’s a reason I don’t tell people much about myself, Ben. This… ” She taps her pen off the table, tiny dots of blank ink marring the steel. “This is the reason.” “I don’t know what to say.” He turns to her, raising his arms to the side in a helpless gesture. “I knew it was bad but this—” “Is it good enough for the program, or not?” She lays the pen down and clasps her hands between her thighs so he won’t see how her hands have balled into fists to stop them shaking. Ben drops his head, unrolls the now-crumpled application form and stares at it with a down-turned mouth that wrinkles his chin. Every awful thing that happened to her is laid out on those twisted pages. “No,” he says softly, lifting his face to look at her, “It’s not good enough.”
Donate 25 for an update to the WIP of your choice (3 slots). 20 for a 1K fic from your prompt (5 slots). 15 for a smutty epilogue to a fic of your choice (2 slots)
Cartoon character holding another character's mouth closed saying Shh
They didn’t see how Ben Solo was alive. And that was that
Comic book image of man in black pointing with speech bubble reading you will give it to me now
He flicks it open, pulls the leather loose in a wide arc. Her breath comes faster and her body flips over, righting itself against the bars, holding tight as she watches him over her shoulder. He loops the belt in his fist, once, gives her a look that is nothing but heat and anguish, and adds a second loop. “Omega.” His eyes widen, panicked by her answering sharp whine. Quickly, he slips the loop over his head, brings both hands high behind his neck. His biceps bulge as he feeds the steel through the buckle.
Violent heat pulls taut along her spine. A sound comes from her closed mouth, a mewling she doesn’t recognise as hers until he shushes her, soothing, reflexive. She can’t keep her hands locked around her knees anymore, limbs stretching, moving with the flow of her blood and her lymph. Dimly, she recognises this is the wrong thing to do, that she should fight against it. But he’s watching her do it, leaning forward with a hunger that sparks around her. “Rey,” he says, and his jaw is so tight that her name sounds odd. “Can you show what you need?” The whole room stinks of restraint.
His scent swells around her, honey-thick with rage, and Rey stops breathing altogether. The bare bulb shadows the dense muscle of his back, the movement as he wrenches the metal drawing her eye over and over until she has to squeeze them shut. Her lungs pump, straining for air, body rocking against the gritty concrete. She pinches her nostrils closed, jamming her palm against her mouth. “You sick fuck,” Ben snarls with a growl so threatening it should freeze her solid. The bars rattle, manic. “I will fucking kill you.” Her knees shift, pressing tight.
His side of the glass should be mirrored opaque but he’s staring directly at her. Rey tests her theory, moving to her right. His chin tilts to follow her. The restraints pull his shoulders back, lines of sinew stretched taut, skin still wet from the suppressant shower. It can’t be comfortable, but he shifts down in his seat, spreads his knees wide as if he’s settling in to watch a film in a recliner instead of a steel chair bolted to the floor in the centre of a bare, soundproofed, room. She stops, moves back to the centre of the viewing window, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. Underneath the muzzle, he’s grinning. The skin at the back of her neck tingles. “Increase security,” she snaps into her radio. “His pack will be coming for him.”
Text reads the dumb one
Screenshot of reddit thread Reply 1 : you should never meet your heroes Reply 2: in that case, fucking them is probably a no go too huh
More minutes pass, and she doesn’t disintegrate. Ben holds his breath. The wind will have to take her because he’ll sit here until he starves before he lets her go. The first movement drags a sob from him. He tries to hold her tighter, a split second of awful realisation that this will take her from him. But his hands don’t crush through her. They press against solid skin with a layer of ash sloughing away. The hope that’s coiled tight inside him flares outward, followed by a round of fear so fierce it shocks him. The breath he takes is so huge it moves her body. Her slim, firmly muscled arms, the ridges of her spine, all caked with a layer of death, burned away. He swipes gently at her jaw, and the ash falls to reveal her tanned, freckled skin.
“I killed him before the dawn.” Her voice is beaten blank with exhaustion, with fear. “I should be human again.” She’s sitting in a minefield of broken, stained glass. Her legs dangle over the edge of the massive cavity where the tower’s window used to be, and her hair has come loose from its braid, blowing back from her ash-streaked face. The city looms dark below her. Ben steps over the crumbling body in the center of the room. His chest aches as if she put a stake through it. “I’m so sorry, Rey.”
shirtless heavily muscled mad pets a horse in Burberry Hero cologne ad
Ben’s knee jumps against the table leg. The tremble of clinking glass turns Rose's gaze toward them and every part of his body locks tight. Rey doesn't let it stop her - pulling away now would look suspicious when she's been sitting so close to him for the last few minutes. She rests her chin in her free palm, fakes an obvious yawn, as if Ben is still just Poe’s new friend that Rey can’t stand to be around. Rose smiles sympathetically and immediately returns to hurling insults directly into Hux’s unyielding face. Poe and Finn don't look up at all, they're arm-wrestling for the last shot of tequila at the open end of the booth. Rey rolls her wrist.
A close up of a person's legs. They're wearing flared jeans and the hem of both legs are wet