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[ddaydreamdelusionss]

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?” 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 

“Osita…”   

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 

And holy fuck did he look hot. 

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 

“Hermosa, are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 

“What’s going on, baby?” 

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 

Oh, fuck me. 

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 

“Like, right now?” 

“Like, right now.” 

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 

“You still okay, Osita?” 

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 

Taglist:

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[ddaydreamdelusionss]

What’s a girl got to do to get drowned in kisses

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

hi! maybe logan getting worried/protective over u after u get injured during a mission? 🥺🩷

Canon level (based on the comic books mostly) wounds and violence (it’s nothing too gory besides the wound description)

“Move out of my fucking way Scott,” you hear him before you see him which isn’t really a good sign.

You’d gone on a mission the same time he was out on one too, and though it had just been a simple recon mission, things got heated quick.

Zeitgeist was a bitch like usual, and you weren’t as fast as you might’ve been had there not been a falling child to save.

So now, your entire right side is rippled under the acid of his spit and you can’t deny the agony you’re in.

“She’s fine,” Scott says but you know your boyfriend.

He pushes past him and is at your side almost instantly. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to him being so close but when they settle on his face, the clear panic and worry is clear to see.

“I’m fine, Lo.” You say, teeth gritted through each word as Charles asses the wound.

You’re no longer in your suit, just in a pair of pants and a sports bra, your hair is drenched and Logan can only guess they just hosed you down to get rid of the majority of the acid.

It still burns like a bitch and you can’t hide that from the man who knows you so well.

“Bullshit,” he grumbles, hands brushing back the hair from your face. “Can’t you all do something instead of just fucking staring at it?”

The question is packed with worry that none of them are accustomed to seeing on Logan, but you swear you see Ororo smirk.

She’d been the only one to notice his soft underbelly- well beside you.

“We’re waiting for Hank to bring the antidote Logan,” you say gently, stroking his tense forearm. “I’m fine baby.”

It’s the ‘baby’ that softens him, that gets him to take a deep breath and press his forehead into yours.

“Fucking scared me,” he murmurs and the others all find themselves busy- besides Scott, he wants something to tease the man about as per the rules of their friendship. “Don’t do that shit again.” His hands are on your neck, thumbs under your chin so you can’t look away.

“I didn’t really have a choice, I had to save the kid.” He nods, pressing his lips to your temple. Hank saves him from blowing up again when you wince and the green acid bubbles a little more.

“Fucking finally, what took you so long?” He grunts, Hank only shaking his head as he pours the blue liquid over your wound.

“Fuck,” you cry out, hand itching to press against your side or slap Hank’s hands away but Logan stops you.

“Fucking say something next time, yeah big guy?” He growls but then you hiss again and he’s all focused on you again.

“You’re good, you’re okay bub.” It’s whispered straight into your hairline and if you were a little more cognizant you’d notice that Logan can’t stop glaring at the wound.

“We caught it in time, the antidote won’t reverse the burn completely, but it will be soothing it and fixing the majority of it.” Hank pulls on gloves, the snap of it on his wrist filling the room. “There’s a salve you need to put on it for the healing process.”

“Thanks Hank,” you whisper, much too tired for much else. “Can I go now?” Logan notices then how utterly exhausted you look and sets aside his anger and worry for a moment to dote on you.

“Yes, but Logan monitor the wound and how it heals over the next few weeks. The skin should be back to normal when the salve is done.” The professor says and Logan nods dutifully before picking you up off the med and taking the salve from Hank.

“C’mon, pretty girl.” He takes you back to your room and is smearing the salve on your side. “You’re not doing that shit again, I swear to whatever there is.”

You give him a small smile, “Getting hurt is part of it Logan, I can’t avoid that completely.”

He frowns and then presses a kiss right above your wounded side. “You don’t get how scary it is to hear, ‘she’s in the infirmary, an acid wound’, I nearly ripped Bobby in half.”

You stretch a hand to bury in his hair. “I know baby, but this was just a one time thing. Zeitgeist isn’t exactly unscathed either.”

Logan smiles, his lips pressing into your unblemished skin again. “Fire burns Logan, what can I say.”

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” You giggle a little, more so when he holds your cheeks and stamps a kiss to your lips. “Get some shut eye, m’gonna get one of the kids to make you soup.”

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

JEREMY ALLEN WHITE The Bear (2022-) | #03.01

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

friends-to-lovers with eddie

cw: reader has body image issues, modern day

"scoot over."

"sorry, i'm too cozy," you grin smugly at eddie, wrapped up in fluffy blankets with your head perched against both of his only two pillows.

"it's my bed!"

"yeah, and it's real comfy, thanks. did you get the snacks?" you bat your lashes up at him.

"you are impossible," he rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance, even though he eats it right up.

"but yes, you know i got 'em." he says, setting down the bowl of buttery popcorn on his nightstand before pulling the scrunchie from your wrist that hangs off the bed.

he wears a cropped black sabbath tee with sweats- the ones he always catches you staring at him in, so of course he smirks when your doe-eyed gaze inevitably lands on his happy trail...and follows up his strong inked biceps...to his pretty ringed hands that tie his hair back..

"want me to grab your phone? a picture'll last longer." he winks, pulling back the covers and bulldozing his way in next to you.

"very funny," you scoff, hiding your heated cheeks against soft worn cotton.

he gets you both settled and cozy, spooning you while you prop up your laptop making sure it's in a good spot for the both of you to see.

"still don't get why we can't just watch this on the tv. this screen is tiny in comparison!"

"oh hush, just trust me. it's a cozy experience, okay? all we need now is for it to start raining outside. then it'll be complete." you smile back at him.

"whatever you say, sweetheart."

and he would make it rain for you if he could.

you press play and shuffle your hands back under the covers, giddy in your contentment.

curious music begins playing as your selection of coraline starts up into the opening credits.

eddie smiles, happy in your joy, he reaches for the popcorn bowl and offers to feed you some "open up, get it while it's still hot." he pops a small handful into your mouth.

"thanks, eds. it's good."

"yeah?" he asks, not waiting for confirmation as he starts munching on it himself.

"let me know when you get thirsty." fuck, she has me whipped, he thinks to himself.

"okay," your voice mellows as your head falls heavier against the shared pillows. "are you comfy?" you ask him.

"yeah, sweetheart, i am." his voice is low.

"'kay," you let out a long sigh, molding closer to his body.

his hand rests carefully against your hip while he rests his chin atop your head, peering at the screen.

domestic bliss even though you're 'just best friends.' yeah, right.

"you like it so far?" you ask him thirty minutes in.

"yeah- it's quirky and creepy, i dig it."

"good. i thought you might."

he looks down and smiles, although you can't see it.

his hand that rested on your hip cautiously moves to your stomach, and before he does what he hopes you'll let him, he asks you "this okay, sweet girl?"

"mm-hmm." you respond, even though you don't know what he plans on doing.

tingles light throughout your body as he lets out a deep breath against your neck. that pretty ringed hand your were gawking at earlier gently presses and then grabs at your soft tummy.

you gasp but let yourself feel the emotions it causes. he's not judging, not criticizing- just feeling another part of you. a part you'd been so against anyone else ever seeing out of fear.

it also feels good to let someone hold you there. an area you'd been self conscious about for ages, only for eddie to swoop in and love on. it felt even more delicious knowing how much he enjoyed it as well.

"you're so pretty, you know that?" he whispers against your ear, sending another burst of tingles to sweep through you.

"i love your pretty body. your tummy-" he reaffirms, rubbing back and forth across the skin before pulling you closer into him, "your pretty face, pretty thighs, pretty arms..pretty much everything i could want."

you don't respond verbally, except for a small groan as you attempt to hide your face in the pillows.

"don't you go hidin' on me," he teases, "you're perfect. most perfect girl f' me, and i wouldn't change a fuckin' thing, baby."

he taps a finger under your chin, signaling for you to look at him. and as soon as you do, his curls are curtaining your face as you feel the soft press of his plush lips against your own.

"eds," is all you can whisper between kisses as he continues his lovin' on you.

bliss, bliss, bliss.

the forgotten movie plays until the end, long after you'd turned to face your body towards him, burying your head into his chest, and let out a few long-held tears.

the background starts to fill with the sound of the rain as it begins prickling against the roof, when you raise your head to look up at eddie; lovesick eyes shine back down at you.

"hi," he smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"i think you're perfect, eddie. thank you for giving me room to grow, and making me feel safe enough to be me," you stroke at his palm.

"you're always safe with me, beautiful. i want you just as you are." he reassures.

"for now, get some rest, okay, sweet girl?"

"okay," you hum, nestling back against him as the rain and his hold on you soothe you to sleep.

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

snoopy of the day

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

✞ 666 ✞

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

Day 8: Forever Winter, Logan Howlett

Song link

Fanfic, fem!mutant(not specified)!Reader

Brief angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2632

Tw: Not proofread! Mention/description of concussions, descriptions of dizziness. References to combat. Mentions of loss (younger students). Self-blaming, drinking/alcohol. Use of painkillers (pills).

Summary: After a rough mission, you lost a handful of students. Trying to sleep off your concussion, Logan retreats to the kitchen, coping in his own ways. You encounter him late at night, and remember him that there is no need for him to deal with this alone.

“He says he doesn't believe anything much he hears these days He says, "Why fall in love, just so you can watch it go away?".”

The flight back to the mansion was quiet. It had been a difficult mission for the entire group. Only half of the people you’ve left with made it back on the plane. You kept telling yourself that the risks were made clear; it had been a dangerous mission and everyone knew it. Everyone who left agreed on the terms. This was their decision.

Yet, it hurt. You were lucky enough to make it back with just a handful of scratches and bruises. And a light concussion, but that was not what your mind was on at the moment.

As your eyes struggled to stay open, they remained trained on the man in front of you. He was staring at his lap, silent remorse laced within his features. Logan never did share his worries or concerns vocally. He suffered in silence. And where others wouldn’t notice, you did. You were one of the only ones. And each time you tried to comfort him, he would walk away.

“He spends most of his nights wishing it was how it used to be He spends most of his flights getting pulled down by gravity.”

As the plane landed with a light thud, he had stood up almost immediately, already making way to the door, even though the machines had yet to turn off. Though dizzy and tired, you followed him immediately. Logan had been your partner for two years now, and your closest friends several years before that; you were not to leave him alone at this time.

As you stumbled over to him, white spots took over momentarily, but after blinking at the floor twice, they lessened. A hand was placed upon your shoulder, gaining your interest. Looking up slowly, you tried to show him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t do stupid things.” Logan uttered, slowly retreating his hands as you regained your balance.

“Don’t steal my words.” You returned, holding onto Scott’s chair as the engines finally turned off. 

Mere seconds later, the door opened, and Logan gently grabbed your arm. You would have wondered why he hadn’t run off yet, but you shook the thought off as sudden weightlessness took over.

Perhaps he had been right to escort you down the stairs at least.

“I call just checkin' up on him He's up, 3 AM pacin' He says, "It's not just a phase I'm in" My voice comes out beggin'.”

The second your body had hit your mattress, Logan had left again. You figured he would have, but it didn’t lessen the pain. Regardless of that, you had fallen asleep quite quickly, and quite easily. It wasn’t until two hours later that you would wake up.

For a school filled with teenagers, 3 AM was surprisingly quiet. No secret whispers, or rushed footsteps. Complete and utter silence. Yet, you could not bring yourself to fall back asleep.

Your head was still pounding, though less severe than before. Rising from your spot, you stretched your arms, hissing at the sore muscles.

You could really go for some good tea now. 

“All this time I didn't know You were breakin' down I'd fall to pieces on the floor If you weren't around.”

Stumbling down the stairs gently, doing your best not to wake any students, you reached the ground floor. The light in the kitchen was still on, as it often was. Though the children did not barge into the kitchen quite often, the professor was still kind enough to leave something on for them. 

And it was a guiding light for you in the darker hall. At the moment, it was only convenient for you.

As you sneaked into the room, you were relieved to find no one at the tables. You had just woken up from a difficult mission; you were not going to rant about it any time soon. Yet, your silent prayers went unheard as you turned towards the fridge, coming face to face with Logan, who was downing - what appeared to be - his third beer.

A startled yelp escaped you, your hand shooting towards your heart in reflex. The man merely stared at you, an amused smirk spreading across his face.

“That scary, huh?” He remarked.

You simply rolled your eyes at him, lowering your hands whilst you grabbed a bottle from the fridge. 

“Terrifying.” You spoke sarcastically.

“Too young to know it gets better I'll be summer sun for you forever Forever winter if you go.”

As you seated yourself on one of the bar stools, you reached for the small box of medicines, snatching paracetamol from it. Logan sat down next to you, staring at your hands.

“Still in pain?” He offered, breaking the piece into two bits as you handed him the medicine.

“Unless the lights are offending your eyes as well, I figured one more wouldn’t hurt.”

Wordlessly, he nodded, now observing your movements. At first, you considered it to be because of your earlier scare to the group, but even from your focused looks on your glass, you knew something else was plaguing his mind. And you feared you knew exactly what that was. 

Turning your head slightly, you gave him a smile. Hoping to somehow still soothe some of his worries. You knew your attempts would be futile, but you tried nonetheless. The only thing you got in return was a tight-lipped smile. Sighing at the smile, you set down your glass, now turning to face him completely.

“He seems fine most of the time, forcing smiles and neverminds His laugh is a symphony, when the lights go out, it's hard to breathe.”

“There was nothing you could have done, Logan.” You tried to offer in sympathy. The grin from his lips fell, and he was about to speak up. You stopped him before he could, holding up a hand to silently halt him.

“Don’t lie to me, please.”

And just like that, the words died on his lips. Sometimes you could curse yourself for knowing him so well. You ran a hand through your hair, your eyes falling upon your lap, before rising to meet his once more.

“Words will not make up for this loss, I know,” You began. “But they knew what they were running into. We all did. We knew the risks, and we were prepared to die for it. We should respect their wishes instead of pressing the matter further and further.” Your hand came to rest on top of him. A silent gesture of comfort. “We are not built for all that grief.”

“I pull at every thread, tryna solve the puzzles in his head Live my life scared to death he'll decide to leave instead.”

A moment of silence filled the air before Logan decided to speak up: “They were only kids. They weren’t ready.”

Frowning upon the words, you pulled your hand back, swallowing thickly. He was right; they were young. You hated that they decided to sit in that plane before it even took even. You remembered the arguments you had held with several student about the matter. You tried to get a couple to pull out, but your attempts remained futile.

You were blaming yourself before it had even happened. Logan always blamed himself after the blow. You understood his pain.

But no words could correct what happened, or even properly formulate the events. 

Nights like these were the worst.

“I call just checkin' up on him He's up, 5 AM wasted Long gone, not even listening My voice comes out screamin'.”

“The second you got slammed into that wall, I should have pulled them out of there,” Logan went on, referring to the cause of your earlier concussion. “But I stood there. And I stared.”

“Before you ran in and carried me out of there.” You filled in, rubbing your sore shoulder as the images flew past you. “You made a decision right in your eyes, at that exact moment. If you had left me there, you’d be sitting here with just as much remorse.”

A pained silence took over as you doubted your next words. “We don’t get to make it out of these missions without regrets and hauntings.”

His hand reached for his pocket, already pulling out a cigar he had stacked away for later. At the sight, you squint your eyes together, slapping his hand. 

“Will you stop that?”

“I don’t get to smoke?” He grumbled.

“No.” Came your simple answer. “We don’t get to drink and smoke this away.”

“We? No. I do.” He replied, standing up and opening a window on the other side of the room.

“All this time I didn't know You were breakin' down I'd fall to pieces on the floor If you weren't around.”

Brief anger flooded through you, and you shot up from your chair. Too swift for your head to process its movements. White dots covered your vision, your hand immediately grasping the corners of the kitchen island. Your knees buckled briefly, but you were able to remain your posture, now focused on the floor, instead of on your boyfriend, who had already rushed towards you.

A hand came into contact with your back. Gently, but firmly. You did not look up, but you knew he was next to you. Tears began to gather in your eyes as you kept staring at the floor.

“This is difficult for me too, okay?” You mumbled out, now nearly scared to look up. “But I will not sit by while you use self destructive coping mechanisms for grief.”

“I know,” Logan uttered, his hand now grasping your waist as he turned you around slowly, letting you adjust to the room and its lights again.

Giving up on fighting, you let your head fall forward, resting against his chest. You were too tired for all of this. If he were to smoke his worries away, so be it. You’d scold him for it later. When you weren’t on the verge of passing out again.

“Too young to know it gets better I'll be summer sun for you forever Forever winter if you go.”

“You okay now?” He asked, his free hand running to the back of your head, slowly pushing your hair back.

“I don’t want to fight over this, Logan.” You sighed. “This is no matter to be fought about. I just…”

Your words trailed off, fatigue settling into your features. You really could do with a couple hours of rest. You shouldn’t have left your bed.

“I just don’t want you to think you are alone in this.” Finally, your head raised, and your eyes met Logan’s. 

“You don’t need to hide in the kitchen at night to deal with this on your own. I am right beside you. Just call.”

His eyes softened at your words, the hint of a sympathetic smile gracing his features. What was he to say now? Simply let all of it slip out? Or just the pieces he knew you’d be able to help with? How were words to solve this ordeal?

“If I was standin' there in your apartment I'd take that bomb in your head and disarm it I'd say I love you even at your darkest And please don't go.”

Your hand gently touched his, lingering on your waist as well. And as simple as that touch, everything began spilling out.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” He whispered. Silently, quietly. As if he was scared others would hear him through the halls. 

“The kids, losing them…” He halted briefly, tucking your head under his chin. “It’s a pain you can’t even describe, but the loss of someone you know. Someone you’re close to.”

A deep sigh filled the air, and for a moment, you could swear his grip on your body tightened. Very short, and very light, but you knew it was there.

“When your body hit that wall today, there was a moment I thought I saw the life slip out of you. If there is anything beside our losses today that will haunt me, it is that memory.”

“I didn't know You were breakin' down I'd fall to pieces on the floor If you weren't around.”

The terrifying chill of a silent response flew through the air, and Logan could not even begin to describe how much he hated it. And thus, he parted from you, one hand still entwined with yours, though more loosely now.

“I have been through worse.” You tried to reassure, hoping to somehow lift that burden off his shoulders.

“And that worries me,” The man rejected. “Where will you draw the line?”

Staring into his eyes, it was now your turn to squeeze his hand. “Where you will.”

Whether he should or should not have taken peace with that, he truly could not tell in that exact moment. But it seemed as if your fatigue had slipped into him. He could start an entire debate on those mere words, but neither of you had the energy to follow up to them.

So he spoke the only words that would make sense to the both of you.

“Come to bed?”

“Too young to know it gets better I'll be summer sun for you forever Forever winter if you go.”

The walk back to your room had been longer than you thought the journey to the kitchen had been. Perhaps because the grief now lay heavier on your mind. Or the fact that Logan had just confessed everything in that room and you left him with a “I have been through worse”.

But the walk was not dreadful. 

It was the moment your body slid under the covers again that filled you with anxiety. Logan hadn’t spoken since that whole ordeal in the kitchen. But now, you could not decipher him. It was difficult to tell if he was mad or not.

Through the little cracks between the curtains, moonlight luminated the room. Not enough for you to make out every detail, but enough for you to notice Logan was changing into more comfortable clothes.

Heat rushed to your face, as you turned around. You’ve seen him in a lot less than just pants, but the sight never failed to make you flustered.

“I'll be your summer sun forever At 3 AM pacin' All this time I didn't know At 5 AM wasted.”

Seconds later, the bed dipped beside you, letting you know your boyfriend had finally joined you. You did not dare to utter another word, silently wishing you could fall asleep instantly.

But then his hands found your waist, and before you could say anything about it, he had pulled your figure into his. A long sigh escaped from his mouth, before he planted a short, but firm kiss on the top of your head.

“I still love you, bub.” He mumbled, placing your back against his chest as his legs entangled with yours.

The sheer relief that sentence brought you, could not even be written down. It was that moment of peace and solitude after a test where so much anxiety and doubt went into.

It was all okay.

“I'd be in pieces on the floor. Forever winter if you go. He says he doesn't believe anything much he hears these days.”

“I love you too.” You whispered back, grabbing one of his hands and bringing it up to your lips, placing a chaste kiss to it.

“Talk to me, next time.” You continued, nestling against his chest. 

A low hum vibrated through his chest as he held you closer, his breath now fanning over your neck.

“I promise.”

“I say, "Believe in one thing, I won't go away".”

—

Taglist: @eerie-inn

I changed the request slightly to fit the story more. Still hope you like it!

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

If You'll Have Me

Prompt: “What is it about me that isn’t good enough?” Requested By: @spuffyfan394 (Mystery prompt Brown 10)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x GN!Reader

Plot: Y/n can no longer handle hiding their feelings around Logan, convinced that he still has feelings for Jean. So, they decide it might be best if they leave for a while. Logan, who overhears this, tries to convince Y/n to stay, not understanding that he is the reason they want to leave.

Warnings: Self-doubt and lack of confidence from reader.

Words: 1.8k

-

You tried to stop yourself from looking, but your curiosity and anxiety kept forcing your eyes back to them. The tightness in your chest was almost unbearable as you saw Jean giggle at Logan's comment. Logan had a familiar fond smile on his face as he looked at her.

No matter how many times the others tried to convince you that Logan was over Jean, and that Jean held no feelings for him, you couldn't help but doubt it.

Jean was everything you weren't, and you doubted that Logan ever saw anything as appealing in you, as he did in Jean. You never saw him look at you the way he looked at her.

Tearing your eyes away from them, you forced yourself to walk away, to go somewhere else. You needed to get him out of your mind. You were tired of the pain you were causing yourself every time you thought of him. You hated that you allowed your fondness for Logan to evolve from feelings of friendship, to a desire for more.

He made you laugh, and smile more than any other. He made you feel safe, and brought out your strengths when you doubted yourself. He was a great and loyal friend, but you wanted more. You wanted what you could not have, and it hurt more every day.

You were unaware of Ororo's eyes on you as you made your way up to your room. She frowned as she saw how clearly upset you were about something.

As you got to your room, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. Letting out a long breath you sat on the edge of your bed and looked out the window. You wouldn't cry. You refused. This was your own fault, and you would hold it, let it teach you a lesson.

Hearing a light knock on your door, you felt uneasy. With your luck that wold be Logan or Jean. Neither of which you wanted to see right now. You stayed quiet, and still.

"Y/n? It's Ororo."

You let out a breath of relief as you heard her voice. Standing, you walked to the door, and slowly pulled it open, meeting her concerned gaze.

She smiled softly at you. "Are you okay? You seemed pretty upset."

Letting her enter the room, you closed the door behind her, wondering if you should tell her. Looking over at her, you saw her watching you patiently.

Shaking your head, you walked back towards the window. "It's stupid."

"If it made you upset, it's not stupid. Come on Y/n, I'm your friend, talk to me."

Sighing you sat back on your bed, waiting for her to sit beside you. You spoke cautiously, with a hint of shame. "I just saw Logan and Jean together, talking and laughing and I just...let it get to me. And I know that your just gonna say there is nothing between them, and that they are just friends. But the fact is, that there was something between them. At least from Logan's side. And I don't think that Logan could ever feel that way for me. Not like he did for her. And I hate that I have these feelings, and I can't make them go away."

Reaching over, she set her hands over yours. "There is nothing wrong with feeling Y/n. Even if it hurts. I wish I could tell you that you're wrong, but I can't. I don't know if Logan see's you like you want. I know that he adores you, that he appreciates your friendship and that he would never purposefully hurt you, but I also know that might not be enough."

You nodded your head softly. "Sometimes I wish he didn't think about me at all. That I was nothing to him. That would make it easier to accept. But he treats me so kindly, and I know he cares for me, but it's hard knowing I feel more than he does." Looking down at your feet, you let out a long breath.

----

Logan walked towards your room, hoping he would find you there. He had expected you to be in the library or sitting room, but found you in neither. And no one seemed to know where you were. He had begun feeling an odd sense of restlessness the longer he went without seeing you.

He slowed in step as he heard your voice from inside. Were you with someone? In your room, door closed? He felt jealousy clench at his chest, as he listened closer. He probably shouldn't, he was invading your privacy, but he couldn't help himself.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ororo asked.

Logan felt relief wash over him, it was just Storm. Deciding he should leave, he began to turn away when your voice met his ears and he stopped.

"Is there any chance you can send me somewhere else?"

Logan felt his heart palpitate, as anxiety filled his chest. You wanted to leave the school? Why? What was happening?

"You think leaving would help?"

He heard you sigh. "I don't know, maybe? I mean, I wish I could get out of my own head about it. But I just can't stop doubting myself. These stupid thoughts plague me every day, every time I see him. I can't stop thinking, what is it about me that isn’t good enough?"

Logan felt his chest tighten. Who were you talking about? Had you been with someone and he didn't know it? Did you break up with them? No, it sounded more like they hurt you. Why hadn't you told him? He felt a mix of anger and jealously wash over him.

"If that's what you really want, I can talk to the Professor. Maybe he can send you somewhere for a while."

"Thanks Ororo."

Logan turned to leave, his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't just let you leave. Why couldn't the bastard that hurt you leave? Who was it? He knew most of the teachers, but never really recalled seeing you with one more often than the others.

He'd have to talk to you. Convince you to stay. He couldn't imagine this place without you, he would hate it. You made it so much better. You were the heart of this place to him, you made it feel more like home for him. He couldn't let you leave.

-------------

Staring out at the school grounds as the light of the full moon cascaded over the trees, you wondered if you really should leave. This place as your home, you loved it. But you hated that most of your days were spent with an ache in your heart.

Hearing a soft knock behind you, you turned to see Logan leaning in the doorway, watching you. You felt your chest tighten.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hi." You responded with a soft smile before you looked back out at the campus grounds.

Logan walked over to you, and leaned on the balcony beside you. "I've been looking for you."

Your heart palpitated 'Why?' You glanced over at him "Oh yeah?"

"I wanted to see if you were alright."

You felt a pang in your chest. Finally looking over at him, you feigned confusion. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"

Logan smiled softly at you, "I was looking for you earlier today too, and I went to your room to see if you were there. And...I overheard your conversation with Storm."

You felt anxiety cascade through your chest as you tried to keep your face from showing your shock. Before you could speak, Logan continued.

"Look, I don't know what jack-ass hurt you, but there is no reason you should let him chase you away. This is your home and you can't leave. Not because of anyone."

A sense of realization washed over you as you figured out he had only heard the end of your conversation with Ororo. He had no idea the guy you had been talking about was him.

"Logan-"

"I know you are going to try and make excuses, but listen to me." He faced you "You are the best part of this place, if anyone should leave it's him."

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you let out a laugh as you ran your hands over your face. "Logan-" you shook your head "I was talking about you."

You saw a mixture of confusion and realization cross his face. You knew you couldn't stop now, so you started to explain to him what you had been holding back.

You took in a deep breath before you started. "My feelings for you changed months ago Logan. But I can't keep ignoring them, and pushing them aside. Especially when I have to see you and Jean every day. Living with the uncertainty of how you feel about her. And knowing that you can never feel the same way about me. Knowing that I can never be what you want. "

Logan felt an almost overwhelming mix of guilt, confusion and excitement as he listening to you speak. He never thought that you felt anything for him, not like he felt for you.

"This is my home, but I can't keep feeling like this. So maybe it's best if I leave for a while, just so I can get over this-"

You were cut off as Logan suddenly stepped forward and grabbed you, pulling you against his chest as he kissed you. Your mind went blank as you felt shock wash over you. By the time you fully grasped what happened, Logan pulled away, staring down at you.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "All this time I had no idea that you felt anything for me, or that you thought I still had feelings for Jean. But I don't, I promise I don't. All feelings I've had recently have been for you, and no one else."

You opened your mouth to speak, but struggling to find words. "I- for me?"

He nodded softly as he gently caressed your face. "I wanted to tell you, to show you. But I didn't know if I should. I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. But if I had known I was causing you pain, I would have told you, I'm sorry that I hurt you so much you thought you had to leave."

You shook your head. "It's not your fault Logan, I know you never would have hurt me on purpose." You paused, before speaking softly with a hint of uncertainty. "So, you don't have feelings for Jean?"

He shook his head softly. "I haven't since I got to know you. Me and Jean are just friends, nothing more. I don't want anyone but you. If you'll have me that is."

A smile spread slowly across your face and you nodded lightly, "I'll have you."

He grinned down at you as he brought his hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him. As your chest pressed against him, his lips met yours. You felt a great sense of excitement and relief flow through you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney (@trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @byersboys, @flourishandblotts-inc

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

☾₊ ⊹ reaching for the moon (18+)

pairing: steve x fem!reader with afab anatomy

contains: smut and a dumb amount of world building that was not necessary for this. set in 30s nyc, no hawkins. old money!steve; husband!steve; art historian!steve; not rich whatsoever!reader; they’re married your honor; steve’s parents (they’re the worst <3); slut shaming; allusions to bisexual steve; brief homophobia; soft!steve!!! he’s so damn soft!!!!; period typical everything lol

you might want to know: steve smokes and reader takes a drag; heated arguments which lead to some implied homophobia; reader wears an evening gown with a corset; car sex (info on said car here, for clarity sake)

author’s note: this is very heavily inspired by titanic 1997 (obviously) because it’s been rotting my brain. it’s very self indulgent but i’m hoping others like it!!

���⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s always the same. A party, an invitation in the mail, embossed with gold foil. Steve fuming because they could have walked over instead of paying for postage, or called him on the telephone. Each time both of you thinking it’ll be different, each time leaving with Steve’s wounded ego or anger levels at an all time high. You don’t know why you torture yourselves other than the fact that his mother will make a tremendous deal out of it when you don’t show up. She’s not above telling guests gossip of your marriage when you’re not around, just so it can get back to you and hurt you again.

Your issue lies with both of them. Steve’s issue lies with his father. Old, rich, stupid. Too well-known for being a lawyer for companies that should be shuttered and closed for violations and accidents. A union buster. And Steve’s biggest critic.

He never wants to hear about Steve’s studies or projects. His mind appears to me hyper-focused on Steve’s shortfalls - no military experience, no investments, married to a poor girl he met at a bar in Manhattan. Steve is everything his father detests, and vice verse.

To his credit, Steve tries, even when he doesn’t want to. He talks to his mother first while she stares at you like you’re venomous. She’s good at reeling in her disappointment. Steve’s her only child and you figure she doesn’t want to lose that. His father, on the other hand, is closer to Steve’s cousins - successors of big oil, engineers, military men.

You smile at her while Steve tells her about his recent trip to Florence, about the chapels and art. You’re wearing her diamonds around her neck. You know she wants to strike them from you. You’d say you clean up well, wearing one of the tens of dresses Steve’s purchased for you, custom made and tailored. Satin and lace and silk, only the finest. His mother thinks she can still smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on you. She detests your miserable background, how unladylike and uneducated you are, that you’ve worked where women shouldn’t and have done things she’d consider unforgivable sin.

“They’d mix pigments with egg -“

“Egg?”

“Right, yes, they called it tempura. And the pigments - Jesus, should’ve been there to see Giotto’s blue, so rich and -“

“Are you talking about those paintings again?”

Steve tenses and turns to face his father. Your face falls slightly.

“I am.”

“How much was that trip, anyway?” his father presses. He gives you a wink as if you’re in on the joke. “Certainly more than your engagement ring?”

You clench your fist within its satin glove. The gold, Art Deco band digs into your ring finger. Steve’s jaw tenses.

“Not a penny more,” he says cooly. He adjusts his suit coat. His adams apple bobs under the stark white collar of his shirt. “Not that it’d matter, right?”

And Steve’s now doing your favorite thing, where he’ll pretend he actually agrees with his parent’s ridiculous world views until they pick up on the sarcasm. Your eyes meet and the corner of your mouth lifts slightly, but you’re back to being stone faced a moment later.

“Of course not!” his father bellows, hitting Steve on the shoulder like he’s a long time friend and not his son. He looks at you now. For reasons unexplained, his father likes you. Probably for some perverted reason, you figure. “And how’d you fare without him at home?”

“Probably enjoyed company downtown,” his mother says.

“I did.” You look at Steve again, speaking to him with a language only you two understand. It’s okay. “Don’t worry. I hardly had ten glasses of beer.”

His father laughs loudly again, making guests crane their necks to look. His mother narrows her eyes at you but smiles curtly.

“How wonderful.”

“And you’re all right with him going off overseas?” his father presses. “To go look at crumbling paintings and enjoy boat rides in that dirty canal?”

“Not any dirtier than the city, I’m sure,” you say, now taking Steve’s arm in yours. His jaw is set. “Besides, I like hearing about what he’s seen.”

“Pity he couldn’t take you with him,” his father continues. “Surely there’s a reason for that?”

You tighten your grip on Steve to remind him to not talk. “I’d be too distracting, don’t you think?”

“Certainly,” his mother says.

“Not as distracting as your friends’ headlines, though,” Steve says suddenly. “I heard about your latest union bust. How many fatalities did the factory have? Ten? How noble of you to save them from equity.”

You bite your cheek and squeeze his arm again. His father’s mouth twists like he’s tasted something sour.

“Steven,” his mother lulls, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. It’s the only thing you both have in common, trying to keep him cool and calm. It never works.

“And who’d you hear it from if not me?” His father’s tone has shifted. It feels suffocating in the small circle you stand in. “Oh, those dirty men you fraternize with.”

His father’s preoccupation with dirty things is ironic.

“Did they accompany you to Italy as well?” He looks at you now, eyes boring into yours. “Did you happen to see the Statue of David? I heard Michelangelo had an interest in the bodies of men.”

You can feel the heat radiating off of Steve, the implication making him see red.

“Ah, of course, yet another thing you’d rather refuse to understand than empathize with.”

“We should -“

“I’d love to talk to you about sexuality, actually, father. How many half-brothers do I have again?”

His mother looks like she might faint, but his father smirks. It’s as if he lives for arguments with his son. Loves seeing how far he can push him, for no other reason but to be a bastard. It might be the only time he’s ever fond of Steve.

“We’ll get going,” you say weakly, tugging Steve along, and he’s happy as long as he has the last word. “Always a pleasure.”

“You’d know much about pleasure and vices, wouldn’t you?”

It’s the first time John Harrington has ever made a verbal slight towards you. You pause, just barely, and continue moving, but Steve whips around, eyes wild. “I’m sorry?”

His voice is rigid and loud. Guests crane their necks again but this time, they keep staring. You and his mother both grit out “Steve,” but he strides towards his father. You fear he might actually strike him, so you lunge forward, putting your arm between them.

“Surely something we have in common, then, Mr. Harrington.” You glance up at Steve, his jaw clenching and unclenching, face red. “Good night.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s cool outside. There are people on leisurely walks despite it nearly being so late. Steve’s still fuming beside you, toned arms flexing underneath his suit coat. He’s mumbling under his breath, then quickly whips around, heading back towards the door.

“I’m gonna-“

“Please,” you beg, grabbing onto his forearm. “Let’s leave it.”

“How?” he huffs. “How can I leave it? He was - he was - awful to you!”

“And he’s awful to you, too. What else is new?” You tug him, beckoning him with pleading eyes. “Follow me.”

He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head as he looks at you. He’s still fuming, nostrils flaring slightly, but all it takes is another little please? and he’s sighing, pulling out his cigarettes and a lighter as he follows you.

"The garage?” he asks, the white building coming into view. A billowing cloud of smoke follows. “What on earth do you want in there?”

You rip your gloves off and flex your fingers. “Indulge me.” You bump his hip with yours, trying to get him to smile.

Steve chuckles, easing up slightly, flicking the ash of his cigarette. "I don't know if committing vandalism is going to make me feel better this time."

“We aren’t vandalizing anything,” you promise. You reach for his hand and take a deep inhale of his tobacco. A needed stress reliever.

Steve seems a bit more giddy as you approach his father’s security detail. Steve’s known him since he was a boy. All he has to do is give a salute and a smile and you’re inside of the garage, door locked behind you, alone now with at least a dozen collectible cars and carriages.

"What do you have in mind, then?” he asks, leaning against the door. “Maybe we can use your heels to carve out some paint."

You step forward, taking the cigarette and throwing it on the ground before stomping it out with your shoe. You lean against him, hands pressed against his chest as you straighten his shirt. You’re looking at his neck as you speak. “Your father seems to think I’m somewhat of a whore.”

You don’t mean for him to get mad again, though it’s delicious when he is. “My father doesn’t have a clue -“

You interrupt, “So I reckon we make me one.”

His eyes widen, cheeks blooming red. "Oh?"

"Mmhm," you hum, and press your lips to his. He grabs you around the waist, fingers digging into your flesh, hidden by the satin and lace of your dress. Your lipstick smears as you move to the corner of his lips, then the stubble on his jaw, then up to the shell of his ear. "Pick a car and take me in it.”

“You - hold on,” he forces out, grip tight on you. “You aren’t a - a whore.” He says it like it’s scandalous, the worst word that could be uttered from his lips. It’s been thrown at him before, too. “You know that, right?”

You look up at him through your lashes. You can feel him starting to harden against your thigh. “Would it be such a bad thing if I was your whore?”

He swallows hard. “Do- do you want to be?”

You smile. “Pick a car before someone finds us.”

"Um." Steve forces his eyes open to look around. You begin unbuttoning his shirt while sucking a bruise into the delicate skin by his throat. He swallows hard. "Uh, the - the Renault.”

Your lips leave his neck so you can follow his gaze. You don’t know much about his father’s insane car collection, but you’ve always liked this one. Powder blue, gold accents. It’s like an upgraded horse and buggy, a large, enclosed carriage in the back with a bench for a driver at the front. It’s not very old, maybe twenty years, but it’s valuable and big and shiny and something his father prizes more than anything, including his own son.

“Plenty of leg room,” he explains sheepishly, and you smile, pulling him towards it. “Now, wait - wait - what’s the plan here?”

He’s so dense sometimes, but it’s because he wakes up everyday in disbelief that you’re laying next to him. The idea of undressing you and touching you seems so far fetched that many times he’s had to stop and think about it before engaging.

“The plan,” you say, swinging the door open and shoving him inside playfully, “is for you to have your way with me. And quickly, darling, we don’t have much time.”

Steve half-sits, half-lays down on the large bench, watching you as you duck inside and shut the door. He watches you with wide, adoring eyes as you climb on top of him, taking his hand gently. You pull it to your lips, kissing the pads of his fingers while he watches you intensely. When you look up at him, your stomach flips.

“My way with you,” he says evenly, “is to treat you like the angel you are.”

You smile and lay his hand gently on your chest. “Show me.”

His lips connect with yours softly. Despite the rush you’re both in, he still wants - needs - to take his time with you. He hikes your dress up as he kisses you, big hands caressing your thighs and ass. He sighs happily, pushing you down enough that you catch on the front of his dress pants, his cock pressing against your core. You gasp and giggle. “Excited?”

“As ever,” he promises.

You hold yourself up with a hand while the other struggles with the belt and buttons of his pants. He kisses down your neck, hot, open-mouthed. He latches on to a certain spot and you moan, breathing heavily into his hair.

“Need some help?” he murmurs, noticing your pause.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes closing as he continues kissing along your exposed collarbone. You should be careful with your dress, taking it off and hanging it up, but Steve will just buy you another one. And another one. And another one. Anything your heart desires. Rich silk from Egypt, lace from Italy, hand embroidered and luscious against your skin. His life’s purpose seems to spoil you, as intended right now.

Steve finally frees himself, but you don’t have any time to stare. He’s quick to change places with you, laying you down on your back, pushing your dress and underskirt up. The material and color on your skin make him blush and growl lowly. The sliver of your corset that’s showing has him growing hard, too. They’re not always so comfortable for you, so you tend to wear them only on special occasions. And he’s keen on devouring you in only it after.

Neither of you are really expecting him to dive head-first between your legs, but you would never complain. His wet, warm tongue laves up your folds a few times before finally plunging in between them. You gasp and grab onto the seat, knuckles growing white. “Steve!” you cry, a hand curling into his hair, tugging on it.

“Worship you,” he mumbles into your skin, before forcing himself to pull back, chin slick. “I worship you.”

Your heart pounds. You’re at a loss. So lucky that you cannot possibly verbalize it.

Steve leans right back in, taking his sweet, non-existent time. “I- I hate to re-remind you, sweetheart,” you moan, fingers curling again, “but a-anyone could h-have! Have seen us com-coming in here.”

He hums, your back arching. He’s reluctant to pull away, but he finally does, coming back up to perch a knee on the seat below you. He’s quick to roll his sleeves up, muscled and toned forearms on view. Then he rubs his cock along your folds, both of you moaning. You tug at his shirt, now not so pristine, pulling him down to face you.

“Isn’t the idea to ruin the car?” he asks, smiling a little smug.

“Yes?”

“Then I’ve got to make a proper mess of you, don’t I?”

You burn. “You already have me melting.”

“Hmm. Let’s see what else I can do.”

When he pushes into you, it’s like the world stops. The only thing that matters is him above you. His hair tickling your forehead, eyes hazy and hooded, lip caught between his teeth. “Honey,” he groans, pulling a leg up over his hips to open you up, give him more access. His fingers dig into the fat of your thigh and he shivers at it. He always makes love like it’s the first time you’ve been together. Even during this quick romp, he’s taking his time, hearts in his eyes. “You’re incredible.”

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. He slides in a little further. You wince and he kisses you gently, fingers moving towards your clit to take your mind off of it.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “So. God. Damn. Much.”

He’s sheathed fully in you now, both of you panting, sweating. The car’s windows are fogged. You can’t keep your lips off of each other as he sets his pace, languid and long, filling you up so completely it numbs your mind. Each thrust makes you gasp. His whines are low, but slowly become more high-pitched as he thrusts into you.

“Give yourself to me,” you whisper. “All of you.”

He would never deny you that.

Hips picking up, his thrusts get harsher. He’s chasing your high and his. Chasing away the thoughts of his father and his mother, of work, of anything except you. You, his angel, his promise that not all things in the world are so bad. Not when you’re with him. And certainly not when you’re writhing under him, your dress pulled taught over your tits, your lipstick smudged, mascara running.

Over and over and over, the thinks, The Divine is real. The Divine is real.

Your eyes catch as he’s pulled away to look at you. He’s soft, despite his thrusts. “I love you,” he groans. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching for his face, cradling it. “My world.”

“My muse,” he moans, twitching within you, handsome face twisted in pleasure. His fingers work steadily on your clit and you reach up for your breasts, wishing desperately that you were wearing a nightgown instead. One that Steve likes, all pastel pink and blue, a ribbon of purple silk on the waist. It’s much less restricting and much more revealing. We can always continue at home, you think, your stomach tightening.

“You are….” you pant, eyes rolling back, leg tightening around his hips. “You are more th-than enough.”

His trusts slow. “As are you.”

“Sweet boy,” you laugh breathlessly, rolling your hips towards him. “Please keep going.”

“Oh!” he says, genuinely shocked, like he was truly so lost in your words that he forgot what he was doing. “S-sorry.”

“Just wa-want to show you how much I - how much I love you.”

“You show me,” he promises. “E-every. Day. And - and at these stupid p… oh, Christ - these parties.” His hips angle up towards your sweet spot and you’re gone, unable to hold back, brows marrying and face tightening in a lewd show of pleasure.

“Steve!” you moan, so loud you’re sure anyone walking by could hear. His hips move furiously and you have to reach up with your hand to steady yourself, making a handprint on the window. “Oh, my God!”

“Now it’s time to show you,” he groans, and his lips are back on yours. Half to consume you, overwhelmed with love and lust, and half to keep you quiet. You all but scream into his mouth, hand sliding off the window to clutch his shoulders while he works you into oblivion. “Close,” he chokes, a hand once again cradling your cheek. “With me now.”

You pant into each other as you cum, the car filled with sex and sweat and your crass noises. So unladylike, so perverse. You giggle mid-orgasm at the thought of his mother walking in on such a thing. A son raised as a level below royalty fucking his street-rat wife into a stupor, all in a thousand dollar car, would make her heart stop.

“What’s - so - funny?” Steve pants eventually, resting his head on your chest, his cock softening inside of you.

“Nothin’,” you promise, combing his hair with your fingers. “I love you.”

“Don’t leave me out,” he smiles.

You shake your head. “Tell you later. We should -“

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, pushing off of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

“You’re trembling,” you frown, reaching for him.

“I’m alright,” he promises, taking your hand and kissing it. “I’m happy.”

“So am I.”

He helps you fix yourself and slips your feet into your shoes for you, a kiss pressed into your knee. It turns into another, then another, and then his lips are creeping up your thigh.

“Stevie,” you whisper, the pet name making him blush. “Let’s finish at home.”

“Home,” he sighs dreamily. “Sounds wonderful.”

You’re proud of the stain left on the leather as you get up, your dress falling back down to your ankles. His father won’t check this car for weeks, if not months. You hope it’s fully ruined by then. But, for good measure, you let your heel scrape the paint on the way out.

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

A spoon's only objective in life is to make soup go upwards, and it knows this. That's why when you put one under a running tap it blasts the water way high. The spoon thinks there's suddenly TONS of soup to deal with and it freaks out.

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

What a Tease

Summary: you tease Logan too much that he begins to pleasure himself

AN: ok so big thanks to @creedslove for the huge inspiration and support!! Seriously you are fucking awesome and I’m so glad I met youuuu!! 💙💙💙

Warnings: what even are these anymore? 😂

Logan licked his lips, thoughts about you overflowing his mind as they kept getting dirtier and dirtier. Especially after this morning.

He closed his eyes as he began to remember you in that fucking dress, bent over to show off your ass in front of him. Making his boner grow and lick his lips once again, he saw that smirk playing on your lips as you knew he was watching you.

“That fucking tease…” he mumbled. He needed to release himself or else the next time he saw you it would end up with you against a wall as he pounded into you ass. Something he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of if anyone would have caught you both.

“Why does she do this to me…?” Logan asked himself, at least in his own room he could be left to think to himself, but just the thought of fucking you were stuck in his mind. And he needed a release soon.

Logan got up quickly, locking the door so no one could disrupt him before he unbuckled his belt, dropping it to the floor. Then he unzipped his jeans letting them fall along with the belt. He plopped onto his bed, not bothering to tease himself as you had already done that to him already.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he rubbed himself thinking of you. He even moaned out your name a few times as he jerked himself off faster.

His imagination getting dirtier as he imagined fingering your pussy while he kept jerking himself off.

“Fuck… (y/n)…” he grunted the wolverine kept jerking off. He couldn’t believe the effect you actually had on him, he found it ridiculous that it was only you who could make him feel this way but other than that it wasn’t like he was complaining.

With a final grunt Logan finally came, relaxing as he finally did so. But before he could he heard a knock. “Dammit… what do you want?” Logan yelled at whoever was behind the door.

“Just wanna know if you want me to join you~” you purred.

[ddaydreamdelusionss]

don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude