#FLIRTING
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crazygnomenclature · 2 days ago
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"The Wedding (pt. 7 & 8 of 15)"
History nerds are gonna history nerd.
Read Part 1-2, Part 3-4, Part 5-6
Webtoon | Insta
Support on Patreon!
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holyblanchett · 1 day ago
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Kathryn Hahn flirting with this journalist for over a minute. I don't think it was casual.
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thore-lb · 2 days ago
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Look at that swag
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TADC Harlequin roleswap AU belong to @tadc-harlequin-au
Scarlet belong to @just-mary-ann and @mrs-nightshade
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I'm going to assume for the sake of my happiness that it was only obvious because of an extra detail like "they barely knew each other at all" or "her tone of voice" or "her facial expressions".
mom was describing a tattoo a girl once took her to a back bedroom to show her, which was a fishing pole low on her pelvis with a line and hook that descended into her bush where a small clownfish hid amongst the hair. and that’s just. that’s a goal. and the ultimate freedom from obligation, like “gah I would shave but it would ruin my very good joke, what are you gonna do, I gotta make sure there’s foliage for my little clownfish to hide in”
then mom finished telling me this and looked off for a moment. “my god,” she said. “she was flirting with me. fuck. goddamn it.” 
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steddieunderdogfics · 1 day ago
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Do You Have a Mirror in Your Pocket? by blipblot
@blipblot
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
4,779 words, 1/1 chapters
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Tags: One Shot, Pre-Season/Series 03, Fluff, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Protective Eddie Munson, Bullying, Flirting, Terrible pick up lines, Steve getting humbled by his own past actions yet again
Summary:
Eddie listens closely as a disbelieving scoff echoes across the bathroom and then more wet footsteps in the opposite direction as if the person is searching for something. “Fantastic,” the voice says bluntly. “Great. Just what I fucking needed.” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up as he recognizes the voice as none other than the recently dethroned Steve Harrington. “Alright, ha ha, very funny you guys,” he calls out. “Give me back my fucking towel now, please.” Eddie hesitates for a moment, looking quickly around the locker room and seeing no other person or a spare towel in sight.
Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @blipblot. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!
You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!
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thepersonalwords · 19 hours ago
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Children have always liked the princess story, but they never knew what was her name. I think the princess was, is and will always be you.
Amit Kalantri, I Love You Too
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serpentofdusk · 10 months ago
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i don't know how to flirt so i just stare at you like a cat dragged out of a dumpster and hope you can see the longing in my panicked gaze
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witchtaunter · 2 months ago
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She thinks that is what flirting is.
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welcome2h · 8 months ago
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Why is flirting so much easier online... (,,>﹏<,,)
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beespaceprogram · 2 years ago
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I think I dreamt this interaction, and I thought it would make a cute comic
epilogue | part 2
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liesandnights · 1 year ago
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My version of flirting is looking at someone I find attractive multiple times and hoping they're braver than me.
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maybe-frog · 5 months ago
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someone, flirting: that dress looks pretty cute on you 😏😏
Me: THANKS IT HAS POCKETS
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wink-and-whisper · 6 months ago
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"I'm okay with it, too .."
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incognitopolls · 5 months ago
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We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.
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hairmetal666 · 17 days ago
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Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.
But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.
The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.
He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--
What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.
There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.
He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.
Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.
The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.
He's beautiful.
The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.
Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--
He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.
---
Steve goes back the next night.
He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.
It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--
Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.
There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.
Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.
He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."
The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"
Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"
"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"
"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.
"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."
"Is that right? Surely not this much."
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."
Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.
"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.
"To Chicago or to this club?"
"Don't be cute."
"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."
Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."
He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."
"And one of the things was that you like dick?"
"Looks like it."
'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."
"Impressed?"
Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."
"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.
"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"
"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.
They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.
"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.
"Yeah?"
"Can I tell you a secret?"
"Of course."
Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."
"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"
"Weird?"
"Fucking hot, dude."
"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.
"Course,"
"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."
"You could do something about it."
Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.
"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.
"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.
He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.
It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.
They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.
Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.
Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"
"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."
Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."
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marvelwitchergilmore · 3 months ago
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Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.
Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.
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For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door. 
And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again. 
“That’s it.”
Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room. 
Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for. 
Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you. 
“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.” 
Nothing. 
With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer. 
“Logan.”
Finally, he groaned. “What?” 
His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand. 
“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“What’s wrong with your bed?”
“Nothing.”
“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.
“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”
You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over. 
“Too much information.”
You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”
Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts. 
Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside. 
“Just shut up and go to sleep.”
Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking. 
However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled. 
He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie. 
By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were. 
But he was asleep. 
Right beside you. 
Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her. 
Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his. 
“Storm- what are you- Oh.”
Jean looked inside. 
“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”
“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”
You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment. 
You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him. 
It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan. 
For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm. 
Serene. 
Rested. 
Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you. 
Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back. 
“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning. 
“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face. 
“Thanks for letting me stay.”
Then a cough came from the door. 
Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”
Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”
You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”
Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed. 
“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away. 
“Sure.”
Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed. 
“They’re got a point.”
“About us being a couple?”
You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”
Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more. 
Jean and Storm were right. 
From the picture…they did look like a couple. 
A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring. 
All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands. 
And for you, that meant finally reading. 
Until you sensed someone stood behind you. 
“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”
Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you. 
“Logan! Give it back.”
“I want to see what it’s about.”
You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”
“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”
“Like the romantic kind.”
Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”
You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not. 
“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”
“I believe in romance.” 
“Yeah, right.”
Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”
“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”
Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”
“Occasionally?”
“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”
You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”
Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud. 
“People really talk like this?”
You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”
Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud. 
It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck. 
“Keep reading.”
“I thought you were asleep.” 
“Now I’m awake.” 
“Fine, just be quiet.”
You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”
Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading. 
And ten minutes later, you were asleep. 
And so was he. 
An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby. 
“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”
“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”
Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him. 
“What is it?” Then she gasped. 
“Believe me now?”
And what Rouge saw made her smile. 
On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire. 
“Come on, let's leave them.”
“But-”
“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”
Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her. 
The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October. 
Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying. 
Save for two. 
Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook. 
“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”
“You should have more faith in him.”
“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”
And she couldn’t. Because she was. 
Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg. 
There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help. 
And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies. 
“Bub,”
Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back. 
You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect. 
“Dance with me?”
“What?”
Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards. 
“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”
“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”
Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”
And you both were. 
Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen. 
“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”
Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”
“Logan.”
“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”
“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”
“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”
“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”
Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”
Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest. 
For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…
Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect. 
He dipped you. 
You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh. 
Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin. 
And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen. 
And dipping you. 
When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you. 
Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background. 
“Logan…”
Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say. 
Had his eyes always had so much green in them? 
Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter. 
Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more. 
So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?
Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door. 
A sneeze. 
A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality. 
Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam. 
Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”
Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed. 
Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him. 
“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”
“Thank fuck.”
“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking. 
“You did ambush me.”
“I didn’t ambush you.”
“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”
You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.” 
You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”
Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own. 
“That big of an ambush.”
You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”
It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa. 
“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”
You did so. 
“I don’t hear anything.”
“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa. 
Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him. 
An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both. 
She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two. 
And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long. 
Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened. 
Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas. 
Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them. 
But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different. 
“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”
Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”
“So?” 
Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe. 
“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”
“Hey, no.”
“Hey, yes.”
“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”
Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”
“Technically, it’s a month.”
“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”
You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”
Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”
“Great from where I’m standing.”
You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking. 
Not at the garland, but at your ass. 
You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down. 
“I meant the garland.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”
You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”
With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”
“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”
“I get to watch you put up five more.”
You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”
Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up. 
You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away. 
Then Logan gave you a real kiss. 
A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”
He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”
“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”
Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway. 
It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms. 
And the others had been watching you and Logan all day. 
The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe. 
“Wait, no. Not there.”
“Where then?”
Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”
Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”
Storm shook her head. “Here.”
She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt. 
Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree. 
At least this way, those looking for it, would find it. 
"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”
There was no one else apart from Logan.
Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take. 
Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you. 
Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others. 
“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces. 
“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing. 
“That was some kiss.”
You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan. 
He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people. 
“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”
You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip. 
You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”
“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”
You looked back to the others. “Six months.”
A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”
All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile. 
“I knew it!”
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