#i'm gonna be so fucking excited if i'm right about this

[nyxofdemons]

FORGET EVERYTHING ELSE IM HERE TO UNPACK THE BLITZ AND MILLIE CONTENT WE'RE GONNA GET!!!!

from what it looks like, ghostfuckers (?) is gonna be a blitz & millie duo operation (or at least moxxie is gonna be somewhere else for these parts) where blitz gets possessed AND/OR impersonated(?) by fuckface here

he looks like some kind of leviathan/envy demon in disguise? but that's just a guess. i think the memories scene here -

- matches the aesthetic and trailer color coding of this hotel/building, so i'm assuming that the possession/impersonation involves this guy using blitz's memories to control him somehow, or at least fuck him up while he's off trying to kill millie.

and oh man. oh man. these two are making me CRAZY?? FROM THE TRAILER ALONE???

what is blitz falling apart over HERE?? they're still in costume!! he's literally curled up in a ball hiding behind the couch, my poor baby what has HAPPENED TO HIM

AND THIS SCENE!!!!!!! at first i thought it was millie, then i thought no, because the hair, and then i realized wait yes AGAIN cause the beauty mark and lashes/tooth gap. my guess is that this is a flashback and GOD i am SO curious about it? who's trying to kill who. why are they fighting. HOW DO WE GET FROM WHAT LOOKS LIKE SUCH RAGE TO THE BESTIEISM WE SEE NOW?? the background looks like a saloon but blitz said he'd never been to Wrath before the harvest moon festival so what's up with THAT.

the blitz/millie dynamic is something i've been SO curious about for SUCH a long time and i am SOOO excited to find out more about them. they seem to have such a GOOD relationship right now so i REALLY want to see what makes them click so well so easily and what could potentially throw a wrench in that.

[munson-blurbs]

Hey, I love your writing so much! If you’re taking requests I’d like a short fic about reader mourning the loss of their dog? I just lost my girl Sasha and would like a comfort fic , Eddie or Steve, either is cool with me- phantom

Hi, love 💚 I'm so sorry to hear about your loss, and I hope this fic helps you through the grieving process. I went with Eddie for this one.

TW: death, loss of a pet, grief CW: 690

--

It feels like it should be raining. 

The sun hangs high in the sky, a gentle breeze blowing every so often. The weather gives no indication of any impending storm, not even a hint of gray in the white clouds. But to you, there’s a darkness that even the brightest light can’t repair. 

There will be no more wagging tail and excited barking to greet you when you come home. The realization cleaves your heart clean in half. 

Tears burn at your eyes and you let them fall, sliding down your cheeks and plopping unceremoniously onto the concrete stoop beneath you. 

“Hey.”

You look up and see Eddie standing in front of you, a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of daisies in his grasp. 

“Hi.”

The wrapping crinkles under his fingers as he sits beside you. He scoots close enough so you can rest your head on his shoulder. An ugly sob escapes you in a dramatic heave, but he refrains from commenting. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. 

You bask in the comforting silence, no expectations to talk or bare your feelings. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead and sighs. 

“Can I say something?” He asks, and for the first time, you notice that he’s been crying, too. When you nod, he softly says, “She was a really good dog. The best, actually.”

“Mhm.” You don’t dare open your mouth for fear of starting up the waterworks again. 

“I keep thinking about the time I brought over burgers from Benny’s,” he continues, “and I left them on the counter for two seconds, and she tore into them.”

You scoff lightly. “It was more than two seconds.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t time it or anything. But it was fast. Like, lightning speed.” He taps his toe, knee brushing against the flower stems. “These are for you, by the way.”

Taking the daisies from him, you hold them to your nose and inhale. Fresh, new, alive. The juxtaposition has your chin wobbling embarrassingly. “Th-Thanks, Eds.”

Another pause, then: “Y’know, I lost a pet once, too.”

You swivel around, eyebrows pinched together. “I didn’t know Wayne let you have a pet.”

“He didn’t. I had to keep it a secret.”

“How did you manage to keep a dog a secret?” It’s not as though he and his uncle lived in a mansion; the tiniest Chihuahua could be easily spotted in their trailer. 

Eddie grins. “Who said anything about a dog?”

“A cat?”

He shook his head, giving the same response for your guesses of rabbit, lizard, and bird. 

“Do I even wanna know?”

He presses a hand to his heart in feigned offense. “I can’t believe you don’t remember Ant-chovy.”

You burst out laughing despite the weighty grief bogging you down. “Are you seriously comparing the death of my dog to the death of an ant?”

“He was my friend!” Eddie retorts. “And he was murdered right before my very eyes!”

You knock your shoulder into his with a playful shove. “Weren’t you the one who stepped on him?”

He scowls and plucks the bouquet from your hands. “I bring you flowers in your time of need, and you mock me?”

A smile tugs at your lips. “My deepest apologies. And my condolences for the loss of your dear friend, Ant-chovy. Who certainly was not an ant and who you definitely knew for more than five minutes.”

“Thank you.” Eddie gives you back the daisies; this time, he leans his head on your shoulder. “You’re gonna get through this.”

“Feels like I’ll be sad forever.”

He nods. “I know. But you won’t be. And I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to fuck off.”

You take a deep breath. “Is it okay if we talk a little bit about her? Like, share memories of her? Just for a little bit?”

“Course it’s okay.” Eddie smiles, coaxing the emotions from you without even trying. “You wanna go first?”

You do. With each word, the sunshine doesn’t sting quite as harshly; the blue sky seems less out of place. And should the rain start to fall, you will always find shelter in Eddie. 

--

[larluce]

Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU

@dsabian , @theplatanitosqueal , @stressed-but-chill , @gregre369 , @chaosofbelievers , @thelordofabsolutelynothing , @another-tblr-fangirl , @aceauthorcatqueen , tagging you since you liked the other parts ^^

LINK TO THE OTHER PARTS: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5

In Arthur's chambers.

Arthur: (sleeping peacefully)😴

Merlin: (flies above him, chirping and picking at him)

Arthur: (still half-asleep) Hmmm... Merlin, not now (covers himself with the blanket to go back to sleep)

Merlin: (changes to human form and falls on Arthur)

Arthur: (out of breath for a moment and shouts) What the-Merlin! 😠

Merlin: (very excited, jumping in Arthur's lap) It's happening! It's finally hapenning! 😄

Arthur: What is happening? (looks the sun isn't even up through the window) And so early? (rubs his eyes)

Merlin: The eggs! They're hatching! (gets off Arthur and runs to the window where the nest is)

Arthur: (getp up, drowsiness finally gone) What? Really? (runs to the nest too)

Merlin: (points at one egg) Look!

Chick 1: (gets out of his shell all damp with lots of bare, pink skin exposed)

Merlin: ...

Arthur: ...

Merlin: He... he is...

Arthur: Ugly?

Merlin: Was I like this when I was a chick?

Arthur: You are a magical entity, Merlin, you were never a chick.

Merlin: Oh, thank the gods!

Chick 2: (gets out of her shell)

Merlin: (smiles) Oh, this one is a female!😊

Arthur: How can you know so soon?

Merlin: Magical entity.

Arthur: Right. (waits a moment, but nothing happens) How long until the others hatch?

Merlin: It could take the entire day. (holds the eggs and the chicks carefully and puts them in Arthur's hands)

Arthur: (scared as fuck as he holds them) WOW! Wait! What are you doing?! 😨😱

Merlin: You have to keep them warm.

Arthur: (whisper yelling) I can't incubate them! I'm gonna crush them!

Merlin: You don't have to sit on them just hold them close to your body to keep them warm. Meanwhile (stretches his limbs and cracks his knuckles and neck) I'll stretch my wings for a bit. 😊

Arthur: You're leaving me with these little merlins just so you can take a fly?! 😠

Merlin: (suddenly serious) Yes, Arthur, I've been incubating them for a whole month without a single break and now I want to fly for a couple of hours. Is that too much to ask?

Arthur: ...

Merlin: (raises his voice) I said is that too much to ask?

Arthur: No, no, no, not at all. Go ahead.

Merlin: Awww, thank you 😄. I'll be back soon. (changes to bird form and flies away)

Arthur: ...

Arthur: (to the two chicks and the 3 eggs, holding them closely) Your mom is very scary, boys.

Chick 2: (chirps a little)

Arthur: And girl. Right, you're a girl. (walks to the bed very slowly, sits and yawns) There you go. Now I have to stay awake (yawns) until Merlin comes back.

3 hours later. Arthur is asleep again, the chicks and the eggs close to his bare chest.

Chick 1 and 2: (chirp loudly)

Arthur: (half asleep) Shut up, Merlin (about to move, but suddenly remembers) The chicks! (completely awake now, but doesn't dare to move and looks down fearfully, thinking) Please be alive, please be alive.

Chick 3: (comes out of his shell)

Arthur: (sighs in relief and smiles) Only two more left. (holds carefully the chicks and the eggs with his hands and sits slowly) Oh, you're fluffy now. (taps chick 1 and 2 on the head whose plumage now is white and downy) You're still ugly though. (Looks at the eggs closely, worried) Please tell me you made those cracks.

Merlin: (appears and lands on the nest holding a death bird with his beak)

Arthur: Oh, thank the gods you're back! (walks to him and puts the eggs and chicks back to the nest carefully) And you brought food.

Merlin: (sits on the eggs to keep incubating them and starts feeding the chicks)

Arthur: If you needed food you could've just told me. I would've sent my hunters for food.

Merlin: (chirps)

Arthur: But then I wouldn't let you take a fly. Very smart. (Yawns and looks through the window) Servants are going to bring my breakfast soon. You better use that invisible spell of yours before they do (yawns and goes back to bed)

3 days later, all five chicks are now out of their shell and are bigger. To Arthur, they look like fluffy little white balls with very angry faces. He takes turns with Merlin to keep them warm and to hunt for food. Today it was Arthur's turn to feed them while Merlin stretched his wings a bit.

Arthur: (scolds while he feeds the chicks raw meat using a tweezer) No! Don't steal your brother's food! Bad, bad! 😠 (someone knocks his chambers' doors and he hides the nest behind him quickly and demands) Who is it?

Morgana: (from outside) Morgana.

Arthur: (sighs relieved and relaxes) Come in.

Morgana: (enters, singing happily) Where are my favourite nephews! 🤗

Arthur: (blushes) They are not your...! or mine... I'm just helping Merlin look after them.

Morgana: (Looks at the tweezer in Arthur's hand) Is that Gaius' medical tweezer?

Arthur: They wouldn't stop pecking my fingers. Like this they won't take my fingers off when I feed them.

Morgana: (takes the tweezer) Let me help. (Starts feeding the chicks)

Arthur: Oh, not to 1. He already ate a lot.

Morgana: (confused) 1?

Arthur: Yeah, the one with a number 1 in his head.

Morgana: ...

Arthur: You know, because he came out of his shell first. And this one is 2 because she came out se-

Morgana: You named your children after numbers and put numbers on their heads with ink?! 😡

Arthur: They are not my children! 😠. They are not even 'children'! And how else was I supposed to identify them?!

Chicks: (chirp louder)

Morgana: Now you made them cry.

Arthur: They are crying because you are not feeding them. (Takes the tweezer and continues feeding them)

Morgana: I can't believe Merlin let you name them like that.

Arthur: He didn't want to name them at all.

Morgana: (Confused) What?

Arthur: He doesn't want to get too attached to them since they're gonna leave as soon as they learn how to fly. (Sighs, feeling guilty) And I guess he's afraid of getting attached again to any merlin since...

Morgana: Since you killed Claws?

Arthur: (looks at the window, frantic, and then back to Morgana) Shut up! Merlin could be back at any moment!

Morgana: Didn't it occurred to you that maybe Merlin doesn't want to get attached to them because he knows you don't want to get attached to them?

Arthur: What?

Morgana: He adopted those chicks, Arthur. For you they may be just birds but for Merlin they are more than that. How do you think a single parent feels when their current partner doesn't accept their children?

Arthur: I... didn't think of it that way.

Morgana: So you realize that if you want to be with Merlin you'll have to be their parent too, right?

Arthur: I guess... (looks at the chicks) Fuck.

Morgana: You despise the idea that much?

Arthur: Is not that. It's just... I'm barely 18! I didn't expect to be a father so soon. And I expected my children to be, you know, human.

Morgana: You also expected your one true love to be a beautiful princess and here we are. (sighs) So? Do you still want to be with Merlin?

Arthur: ...

Time skip. Merlin with Arthur in his chamabers.

Merlin: (in his human form, after trying a spell on the nest) I did it! (jumps happily)

Arthur: (gets closer, curious) What did you do?

Merlin: Oh, I improved the invisible spell on the nest, now no one who isn't us or Morgana can see the chicks while they are there.

Arthur: That's great!

Merlin: Yeah, I don't have to make the spell constantly anymore and you won't get caught by your father. They are even save from other raptors now. It took me a while to get it right. (his smile gets sad)

Arthur: (concerned) What is it?

Merlin: Nothing, it's just... They... they don't need incubation anymore, but I... I still want to embrace them. But I can't, there's no need anymore.

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: (his eyes tearing) I know I'm not supposed to love them, I'm not really his dad or anything. I'm not even a real falcon.

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: And I know you didn't want them here in the first place, but-

Arthur: (shouts) Merlin!

Merlin: (startles)

Arthur: (extends his hand to Merlin and says softly, smiling) Would you dance with me?

Merlin: (blushes, confused) Wha... what? 😳

Arthur: Would you give me the honor to share a flying dance with me?

Merlin: I... (still very red and confused) but you... you don't have-

Arthur: Humans can also dance, you know? It's true I have no wings, but I can make you fly if you let me.

Merlin: (smiles widely, eyes watering) I'd love to.

And they dance. Arthur discovers that, while Merlin is very agil with his bird wings, he's very clumsy with his human legs, but he lets himself be guided by Arthur all the time. There are stomps, there are laughs, but they soon find a comfortable pace and Merlin ends up with his arms around Arthur's neck, and Arthur with his hands on Merlin's hips, dancing slowly at the rhythm of the music of their hearts.

Merlin: (still dancing with Arthur, confused) Are we supposed to mate now?

Arthur: (laughs softly) There's no rush for that. But I want you to be my partner. My mate if you want to call it that way. I love you, Merlin, and I want to be with you and have a family with you.

Merlin: Oh... (gets a little sad) But we're both male, we can't... (opens his eyes wide) Or can we? 😲

Arthur: No, two males can't.. procreate, but we don't need to worry about that. (Points at the nest with his head) We already have a family together.

Merlin: (Gets so happy he might cry and kisses Arthur on the lips in a fit of joy)

Arthur: (In shock for a moment, but soon kisses back and they kiss for a long time)

Merlin: (separates the kiss, but keeps their faces close, catching his breath) Did I... Did I do it correctly? I saw some humans do that with their mates.

Arthur: (smiles wide) You did it wonderfully.

Merlin: Arthur?

Arthur: Yeah?

Merlin: I think I love you romantically.

...

Just so you know, this is how the chicks look:

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Too Close

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Part two

Series masterlist

Blog masterlist

Eight o’clock sharp, you’re standing in the small apartment lobby, staring at the faded paint on the walls chipping. Your outfit of your first day at your new job is simple and classy—or you hope so, at least. A short, white, plaid pencil skirt combined with formal but comfortable shoes, and a plain white button-up blouse that shows your midriff. Your hair is down, just washed, styled in that way that makes you feel most confident.

You’re still nervous. Nervous off your fucking ass. And the prospect of seeing Javi, of having him take you to work, of spending time with him…It makes you flustered. He’s handsome, he’s witty, he’s kind. From what little you’ve met of him until now, he’s just your type.

But…

But he’s older. He’s much older. He must be what? Thirty-four? Thirty-five? Thirty six? Somewhere in between, you guess. And why would a man like him even glance at you? You’re a kid to him. He’s almost twice your age. What are you thinking?

You hear a door opening and keys jingling. A moment later, Javi walks to the lobby in a red button-up tucked into his jeans, a belt holding them up. He’s wearing a jacket and a tie, and he looks…

Fuck, he looks hot, you think, trying not to think about it.

“Mornin’,” he greets, those dark eyes taking in your outfit.

You feel yourself growing a little uneasy, shifting your weight around a tad. “Is this okay?” you ask of your outfit. “Does it get too cold here?”

He shakes his head. “Your outfit’s fine,” he tells you. “But I might need to take you out into the field with me sometimes, and it would probably be better for you to wear something that’s comfortable in case we need to stay out all day.”

You pause. “You're gonna take me into the field?” Your voice should be afraid; instead, you're delighted.

He chuckles. “No where too dangerous,” he promises. “Just little meetings with sources. Nothing for you to worry about. Besides, I'll be there to keep you safe.”

You smile softly. “My grandpa never let the other agents take me out onto the field. He was too afraid of me getting in harm’s way, I guess.”

“Dealing with sources isn't really that dangerous,” he tells you as he places a hand on the small of your back to lead you to the underground parking lot of the building. Tingles brush up your spine. “Worst parts are when we burst into coke labs or hideouts, stuff like that.”

“They're also the most exciting, I bet,” you say. “I mean, dangerous, obviously. But the adrenaline…”

He chuckles. “It's only exciting if you survive,” he points out. “Usually there are more funerals than celebrations after those kinds of raids.”

You're silent for a second. “I…Yeah, you're right.” Your voice turns soft, pensive. Of course it's not some game. What are you thinking? You're seeing it from a journalist’s perspective, not from a DEA agent’s. Raids make great stories, sure. But having to participate in those raids…

You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re now a member of the DEA, not a journalist. The world isn’t only about telling stories now, it’s about living them.

Javier leads you to his car and opens the passenger door for you. Immediately, you're blushing again, nervous and flattered. You stutter out a thank-you and Javi chuckles smoothly.

He gets in the driver's seat and, oh, God, if you thought he was hot, watching him drive just about sends you hurling over the edge. The way his aviators give him a mysterious hue, the early-morning sunlight shining through the window as he drives you through Colombia…

His nose, his lips, his jawline…Oh, you want to kiss it all. Kiss his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his lips. Oh, those lips…

You realize you're staring when Javi glances at you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You alright there?” he chuckles.

You blush, snapping your head away, glancing out the windshield. “Y-yeah. Fine. I'm just…trying to get a bearing of my surroundings, y'know. I'm gonna have to drive to the embassy myself eventually,” you say quickly, hoping your voice doesn't quiver as much as you think it does.

“I wouldn't mind driving you every morning,” he says casually, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift. “We leave the same building and get to the same place. Problem would be when we each gotta go our separate ways.”

“Yeah.” You nod. “You work late?” you ask, out of curiosity more than anything.

He chuckles, a sound somewhere between amused and endeared. As if you were a child asking some silly little question. “You…could say that.”

You bite your lower lip, wanting to ask more, but you don't want him to think you're a naïve little girl. You're twenty-three. Not a child.

He's almost twice my age, you think, of course he sees me as a child.

*

Javi glances at you, noticing the slight pinch between your eyebrows. Did he say something wrong? Did he make you uncomfortable? He has the feeling you want to say more, to ask more. What's holding you back?

“I usually don't have a very regular schedule,” he tells you, hoping to ease your nerves. “It depends a lot on the narcos since we gotta take ‘em by surprise and we never really know where they're gonna be. So we gotta seize any opportunity we get.”

You nod. “Right. It's…Is it stressful? Always guessing where they're gonna be?”

“More than stressful, it's frustrating,” he responds. “Every time we think we're close, they vanish like thin air. Especially Escobar. He's a real tough motherfucker. Careful, ingenious. It's like chasing shadows. Every time we go after him, it's as if he already knows it.”

You pause, turn to him as he stops at a red light. “Every time?” you question.

He nods. “Yeah. We've barely even been close.”

“And you've made sure there are no leaks within the DEA? Or the Colombian military? Because it's a little odd that he can always predict your next move.”

Javier's eyes widen. Of course. How could he not think of that? There's probably someone playing for both sides. A mole filtering information to Escobar. But it would have to be someone close, someone who knows all of their plans.

It's not Carrillo. Carrillo is fully trustworthy, Javier is sure of that. But maybe someone on the Search Bloc, someone new…

He gives you a little smile. “Smart thinkin’,” he tells you. “It would've never occurred to me.”

You shrug as if dismissing your great idea. “I'm a journalist. My work depends on sources and info leaks.”

Smart, gorgeous, witty, humble…

Javier tries to keep himself in check. You're everything a man would want.

But not him. He shouldn't want you. You're so young, there are so many guys out there who would be better for you. He knows that. But, God, what he wouldn't give to get a taste of you…

*

The day flies by—no, the weeks fly by. Between doing your investigations, adjusting to the new work environment, getting used to living on your own, learning Spanish, and trying not to think about Javier, a month passes in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly you have an established routine, suddenly you're settled in. Suddenly you understand more Spanish and your accent decreases slightly. Suddenly, Colombia is becoming a home to you.

But the deeper you fall into Colombia, the deeper you realize it's a war zone. A small-scale kind of war zone. Sicarios—hitmen—make people disappear without anyone noticing for days.

Only reason you know is because those people are usually your sources.

Javier was right about the work being more frustrating than stressful. It's like sand, slipping right through your fingers. No matter how hard you try to hold onto it, it just seeps away.

You make progress. You know you do. But most days, it doesn't feel like it. Javier and his partner, Steve Murphy, they both respect you. They appreciate you and your contribution to the team. Carrillo, the Colombian coronel, does too. But other men…they're a little sensitive about having a woman working with them.

They doubt you. They catcall you. They assume you got the job by sleeping with some higher-ups. And it pisses you off. You wanna punch them all, curse them, call them out for the disgusting pigs they are.

But you don't. You keep your calm. You're better than them and you know it—they know it. That's why they're anrgy with you. You threaten them. Your presence, your abilities, make them feel insecure. And that brings you a very much deserved wave of satisfaction.

Every new piece of information you bring in, the prouder you are of yourself. Until you realize Escobar keeps getting farther and farther away from the DEA. He buys and kills his way through life, opening himself a pretty little path, a red carpet rolled out at his feet.

Some days, you're upbeat. You feel you're moments away from catching the drug lords. But other days, you feel like you came down to Colombia for nothing.

Today is one of those days.

Late afternoon, everyone leaving the office after yet another failed raid. The warehouse had been emptied even before the DEA team was on its way there.

There's a mole, you think as you put away files with months’ worth of information. There has to be a mole. Someone is talking. Someone is ratting us out. But who?

You exhale thickly, a dull ache spreading behind your eyes. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Fuck,” you mutter, stressed, annoyed, frustrated.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You grab a file with a big, red stamp on the front that reads deceased—one of your sources just recently killed by sicarios—and aggressively toss it in the trash can. As if that would solve all your issues.

You don't realize he's standing in the office until he sighs. “Tough day, huh?”

You turn around, jumping a little, to find Javier there. He looks almost as pissed as you must look. More, probably. He's already been here for years and Escobar is still running free.

“Understatement,” you mutter, turning away from him. You grab another file, open it. You read the name. Some Francisco something. You grab a large stamp and press it onto the front page so the word deceased is now there in big, bold letters. You toss that into the trash too.

Javier approaches you slowly. You can feel his presence burning behind you, like warm sun on your nape, and it makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Some of us are going for a drink,” he tells you, voice light and casual. “Just in case you wanna join us.”

You turn to him. “Who's going?”

*

Me and you, Javier thinks. Just us.

“Alright, fine. I'm going,” he says, chuckling softly, smoothly. “There's a bar downtown that I like to frequent when I don't have the best days. And you—no offense—but you look like you could use a drink.”

A small smile appears on your lips. He wants to kiss the corner where your mouth curls.

He can see it in your eyes, you're thinking it through. Weighing the decision. Maybe if he tips the scale a little…

“On me,” he adds, giving you a little smirk. “Y'know. Just a little something to take the edge off.”

Your smile broadens and he knows he's succeeded.

“Alright,” you agree. “You're driving.”

You don't have to say it. It's become the default. Even though the embassy finally delivered your own car, Javi keeps driving you to and from work. Unless he knows he's going to have to stay out later or go through with a raid in the middle of the night, he always insists you let him drive you.

You always politely tell him it's fine, that you can do it yourself, but he doesn't want you to do it yourself. He wants to drive you. Wants to have you sitting in the passenger seat of his car. Wants to hear you hum along to the songs on the radio. That's become the highlight of his day—you have become the highlight of his every single fucking day.

And he hates himself for it. What is he thinking? You're half his age, you can do so much better than him. He's broken, tarnished. He doesn't need to drag you down with him.

But the way your eyes light up when you see him. The smiles you give him. The way his name rolls off your tongue.

Good God, how many times has he spent too long in the shower, one hand braced against the cold tiles as the water falls onto his back while his other hand fists his cock? Head down, hair wet, eyes shut tight as he thinks of you, of the way you say his name. Your little skirts and gorgeous eyes. Your soft, sweet lips…

Over and over, he spills his release onto the shower wall, thick white ropes that trickle down the drain. He does it until it hurts, until the warm water runs cold, until there’s no more of his come to spend. And yet, no matter how much he does it, it's never enough.

Nothing is enough. Not cold showers, not jerking off for hours, not sleeping with his usual hookers and imagining you. Nothing does it.

If it's not you, it'll never be enough.

He takes you to a small club. A private, luxurious little place. Both of you are still in your work clothes. He watches you remove your blazer and are left in a pretty top and a skirt. You let your hair down, untuck your blouse from your skirt, and suddenly you look different. You look free. And Javier's heart skips because he now feels like he has the opportunity to take you home. To lead you to his bed. To spread your legs and let himself finally taste you, feel you, fuck you…

He leads you to a booth in a corner, comfortable and a little more private than other tables, and you sit across from each other.

He watches you, saying nothing as you look around, studying your surroundings. Music is playing softly in the background, people are talking, glasses are tinkling. But he can only focus on you.

You turn to him, a small smile on your face, those beautiful eyes almost shining. “So, as a regular here, I bet you know the menu by heart. What drink would you recommend?”

He chuckles. “I like to take my whiskey. Not a big fan of fancy, elaborate drinks.” He eyes you for a second, purposely letting the tension grow. “But I'd suggest you order a piña colada. Something sweet for you sweet, little thing.”

Javier notes the blush that forms on your cheeks and he feels proud of himself. He didn't take it too far, just a small flirtatious comment. And already you're all flustered.

God, the look on your face if he were to fuck you in front of a mirror, if he'd spread your legs to see your wet pussy, if he'd touch you, kiss you…

Fuck.

He starts getting hard, his cock bulging against the seam of his pants. He slightly adjusts his jeans to relieve the pressure a little.

A waitress comes over and takes your order. Your drinks arrive not long after.

“How are you adjusting to life down here?” he asks you, sipping his whiskey. Bitter, cold. Just how he likes it.

You sip your piña colada, removing the little umbrella on it. “Well enough,” you reply. “Only thing I still struggle with is the language a little.”

He nods in understanding even though he speaks Spanish fluently. He grew up with both languages, he hadn't been forced to learn from zero.

“You'll be able to get it,” he assures. “You're a quick learner. If Steve was able to learn, you're certain to nail it.”

You laugh and he chuckles. He likes that too, he realizes. Your laugh, the way the corners of your eyes crinkle, the shine in your gaze, the way the sound resonates from your mouth.

Suddenly it's a little hotter in the club and for the first time in a really long time, Javier feels nervous around a woman.

*

You like the way he looks at you. Those dark eyes taking you in as if he can't afford to miss a single detail about you.

Smiling a little coyly, you take another sip from your piña colada. It's so sweet.

Something sweet for you sweet, little thing.

Butterflies burst in your stomach. You gaze back up at him. He meets your gaze for a moment before looking away.

He reaches for his tie, undoes it with one hand, starts tugging it off.

Good God…

You press your thighs together. The tiniest of gestures and yet he looks so fucking hot doing it.

You wish he'd tie you up with that tie, pinyou to the bed, take what he wants…

Mind out of the gutter, you tell yourself. Mind out of the gutter.

As the night goes on, you both talk about everything and anything. The conversation doesn't dry up. It just flows. It's odd how much chemistry you two have, it's almost like you'd be perfect together.

But you work together. But he's much older. What would people say? What will happen when—if you were ever to be more than coworkers? More than friends?

No, don't think about that. It won't happen. He's just being kind, taking out the new girl to help her. It doesn't mean anything.

But you doubt yourself. The way he's looking at you, those dark eyes, that intense gaze…You could swear there's more to this than mere kindness.

As the night grows darker, the music gets louder. People start moving onto the dance floor, the lights dim. As the sounds rise in volume, you and Javi sit closer to be able to hear one another.

And suddenly everything shifts. Suddenly you're so close, suddenly the atmosphere is different, suddenly you're staring right into his eyes and he's glancing at your lips.

A soft breath leaves you. How many piña coladas have you had? This isn't you thinking, it's not you leaning closer to him. It's someone else, some other girl—confident, bold, she goes after what she wants. It's not something you would do. But this new version of you…

His lips are grazing yours now. You're so, so close to him. You can smell the cigarettes on his breath, can feel the heat of his skin. He smells of cologne and whiskey and smoke and soft musk.

“I was thinking,” you say, voice low, sultry. What's that sound? Is it the music booming or your racing heart? “You should teach me Spanish.”

“Teach you Spanish?” he asks, eyebrows pinching together. He seems confused, unsure about where you're going with this.

You nod. “Yeah. The toughest part is getting my tongue to roll the right way. And I was thinking you could show me…”

His eyes shine with realization. He understands now, you can tell. “Fuck,” he says breathlessly, voice low and thick. “C’mere.”

And then he's kissing you.

His mouth is warm, soft, and he tastes like danger.

One of his hands finds your waist, the other cups the back of your neck to pull you closer. He devours you, lips coercing yours open before his tongue slides in, tasting of whiskey.

When your tongue meets his, he groans quietly, the sound reverberating through you. The hand on your waist tightens its grip, the other one tangling in the hair at the back of your head and tugging slightly.

You gasp. He smirks. Javi pulls you closer until you're just about forced to get on his lap. You're happy to do so, straddling his hips, one hand on the back of the booth sofa to hold you up, the other one cupping his face.

When you lean your weight down on Javier, he groans, a barely-restrained sound that makes you wetter than you already are.

You can feel he's hard, his cock pressing right between your thighs. You get comfortable on his lap, the bulge in his pants right against your clit.

His hands move down to your ass slowly, testing the waters. When you don't complain, he squeezes the supple flesh, groaning into your mouth.

And it's wrong. And you know it's wrong. But you let him.

*

Fuuuuck.

Javier's mind is a blur, his every thought fogged over with the feel of you on top of him.

His cock aches for you. You're on top of him, the feeling of you on his lap is almost enough for him to jizz his pants.

Jesus fucking Christ, you're perfect. All of you is perfect. You feel so much better than he could've ever imagined.

His large hands squeeze your ass and start guiding your movements, making you grind against him. You let out a little sound, a soft, quiet moan and his hips buck up against yours. In response, you whimper, thighs tightening on either side of him.

He keeps guiding you, making you ride him through the fabric of his pants. He can feel the crotch of his jeans grow wet with his precum, his hips starting to move against yours in search of more.

More, more, more.

He wants so much more. He wants to lift up your skirt, move your panties to the side, slide his cock into you. He wants to feel you, your warm, wet pussy clenching around him…

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips. It's not enough. It won't be enough until he fucks you. Properly fucks you.

One of his hands moves from your ass to the side of your thigh, and then between your legs. He plays with the edge of your skirt and then his hand wanders under it.

His calloused fingertips find the fabric of your panties and his cock twitches. He gently teases your folds through your underwear, feeling how wet you are already.

He pulls moan after moan from you, smirking against your mouth, swallowing your every sound.

“Javi,” you whimper, pulling away from his lips to take a heaving breath.

“Shh, angel, you don't everyone to know what we're doing now, do you?”

You shake your head softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Mmm, n-no. I just—Oh, God.”

He pushes your panties aside, rough fingers finding your bare cunt. It's so wet, the coarse hair on your skin soaked.

You jerk at the feeling of his fingers on your pussy and he chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound.

He gathers some of your slick with his middle and index fingers and spreads it all over your cunt, leaving you nice and wet so his thumb can glide over your clit in soft, neat circles.

A string of incoherent words leave you and Javi smiles. He wishes he had you in his bed right now so he could spread your folds with his fingers, look at how wet you are.

But this will have to do for now.

He slides his middle finger into you, his thumb adding more pressure on your clit as he draws mindless shapes on the needy bud.

You rock your hips against his hand, moaning, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“That's a good girl, angel,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “You're doing so well. I'm gonna add another finger, yeah?”

He slides his ring finger into you as well and you throw your head back, gasping softly. He curls his fingers up to find that spot that makes you clench around his digits and he smirks.

The more he fingers you, the wetter you get, the tighter you grip him. “C'mon, angel. Come for me, yeah? Let me give you what you deserve.”

You mewl, nuzzling your face into his neck as he fucks you open with his thick fingers.

“Shh, shh. You're so close, angel. So close. Fuck, I can feel how tight you're getting.”

His words seem to spur you on because you start riding his hand faster, more eager, as if you can't get enough. And then there's a moment where your body seems to pause, your every muscle tensing, your eyes shutting tight, and then you fall over the edge.

Javi watches as you climax, the sight more beautiful than anything he's ever seen in his fucking life. He doesn't want this to be the last time he sees you like this. He'll die if he can't get more of you.

“There you go,” he whispers into your ear, helping you ride out the pleasure. “That's a good girl. Are you alright, angel?” He kisses your jaw, your neck, inhaling your soft scent.

You nod weakly. “Mhm,” you hum, shuddering a little. “‘m fine.”

“Good.” He kisses your lips softly, tasting you. God, the things he wants to do to you. He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean, his body aching to taste you. You taste so sweet, so gentle, so fucking perfect.

Oh, what's he fucking doing? You're half his age. You're too good for him. He shouldn't be—

Your hands start moving to the front of his pants, palming his throbbing cock through the fabric, and suddenly Javier forgets himself. He forgets everything.

If it's not you, he doesn't care right now. He'll figure it out later. There will be time later.

So he just gives in. Just ignores everything and allows himself this moment with you.

It'll only be once. Just once, he promises himself.

Cross my heart.

Dividers from @cafekitsune! Thank you again for these beautiful dividers!!!

Taglist

@maiyart @cheesepannini @picketniffler

I'm so inspired while writing this omggg I just need this man so much 😭😭😭

I hope you enjoy babes!!! <33333

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2023. VILLAINS by V. E. Schwab.

Time for a NaNo Prep Reread! I love Victor and this vicious little family with my whole chest. This'll be my second time rereading VICIOUS, but only my first time rereading VENGEFUL.

[politemagic]

Okay I absolutely adored that fruit salad question, so I'm bringing it to you! Musical fruit salad from your favourite artist, 5 fruit minimum, go go go 💙

oh boy i love this question so much okay okay okay i really couldn't decide if i would rather do sleep token or twenty one pilots... so you will ALSO get two fruit salads!!

my fruits:

strawberry 🍓 <- one of their more popular songs that i would show someone who had never heard of them before blueberry 🫐 <- it may seem like just a little tune, but to me the album would NOT be the same without it melon 🍈 <- she may not be for everybody, but real ones will appreciate these underrated tracks (underratedness was determined by spotify streams not science) kiwi 🥝 <- we're adding a lil something special to this fruit salad. these are songs that are near and dear to me cherry 🍒 <- my personal favorite fruit, so my personal favorite song

sleep token salad:

🍓 The Summoning - it's the song that seems to have really set them on their current trajectory, and it is indeed a fucking BANGER so if i'm trying to get someone into sleep token, this would be my go-to

🫐 DYWTYLM - honestly didn't really like it on my first listen to the album, but on my second go round i could not BELIEVE i ever felt that way. it is so incredibly necessary to the overall album + vessel's journey and i will defend her until my dying breath.

🍈 Drag Me Under & Descending - i really couldn't pick between these two UNDERrated queens get it? get it? i'm so sorry . but there was one morning that i was listening to my sleep token playlist watching the sunrise on my back porch and these songs played back to back and tbh it was a spiritual experience

🥝 Take Me Back to Eden - i actually can't stress enough the personal significance that this song has to me. the line "i don't know what's got its teeth in me / but i'm about to bite back in anger" is in total honesty the thing that motivated me to get the help that i needed during the darkest time in my life. i can't talk about it or i WILL cry

🍒 Aqua Regia & Telomeres - it's my fruit salad so i get to have extra cherries since they're my favorite😌 aqua regia is the baddest bitch in town to me and the guitar solo in telomeres is possibly my favorite part in any st song ever.

twenty one pilots salad:

🍓 Fairly Local - i would have chosen car radio because that was my personal introduction to them, but i think fairly local is more representative of where they are now musically. (but if i was to pick a first album i would def be showing them vessel)

🫐 Neon Gravestones - not sure how universal this is, but most tøp fans i know skip this song on trench but i personally have always loved it. the lyrics are phenomenal, and it's a very powerful song.

🍈 Redecorate & March to the Sea - i couldn't choose just one because i think both of these albums as a whole are underrated (listen. i know that scaled and icy wasn't their best but. those are some fucking bops okay?). whenever i need to have a good cry i listen to self-titled and march to the sea has always been my favorite from that album.

🥝 Trees - seeing them perform trees in concert was a canon event for me. my best friend, who i have known since i was 5 (and was not familiar w them at all), said she had never seen me experience emotions like i did when they performed this song. it makes me so happy that they still end shows with this song, i think its a rite of passage.

🍒 Doubt - honestly, i can't even remember why at this point but this has been my favorite twenty one pilots song since blurryface came out, it's my most played song by them FOR SURE.

[boxwinebaddie]

i'm a writer! what you do Mean i can't just post Every Deranged Unedited Paragraph of the thing i'm working on until i actually finish it, but by then, the actual thrill of reading what i’ve written is Ruined??

[crimeronan]

i'm working on the next wwaitsoatl chapter, which as i've previously mentioned is by FAR my most involved story as far as, like, technical process goes. i finished the second draft of the chapter and went "god, wow, this is all shit, this all sucks so bad, i'm never gonna be able to make anything usable out of this" and then stepped away for a few hours and now i'm midway through the first editing pass and i just keep going "oh my god. oh my god. holy Shit this is gonna bang so fucking hard once i fix it all. oh this is gonna go so hard there's so much potential. fuck YES oh my GOD my HORRIBLE LITTLE BITCHES ARE BACK-"

[arsonist-chicken]

I think my university should pay me for emotional damages for having to write a thesis exposé. To the amount of whatever I need to go on a short trip to Helsinki to recharge from this bs and to get a tattoo and a coffin full of Fazer chocolates.

[heffrondriving]

soooo. that new big time rush album huh

[toasteaa]

Shaking and crying...the new trailer...oooouogouhough....

[yusuke-of-valla]

Oh I desire her carnally

[aberooski]

Every day I tell myself "all I have to do is make it through today" and I'm realizing that I don't know how I feel about the fact that I feel like I have to tell myself that every single day.