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[marvelwitchergilmore]

Surprise Marriage

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.

Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan. 

Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal. 

But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off. 

Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry. 

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”

Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy. 

“What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Y/n today?”

Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”

Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”

Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused. 

“Charles, what’s going on?”

The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan. 

“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”

The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”

Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”

“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”

“Both? What?”

“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion. 

“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”

“Well, that would be the other question except-”

Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t. 

Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

Then you remembered. 

It had been laundry day. 

And you wore one of his shirts to bed. 

Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone. 

“What’s going on?”

“Well, Y/n-”

“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it. 

What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?

But no. 

It was anything but. 

Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts. 

“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”

“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”

“What?”

“It’s ours. We’re married.”

You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out. 

“What?”

Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”

“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan. 

“I don’t know.”

“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”

You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory. 

“I need to sit down.”

Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month. 

“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”

Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”

And so you did. 

There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated. 

You were married to Logan. 

Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago. 

You had become Logan’s wife. 

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”

“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you. 

“Do either of you know when this happened?”

You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-

“The library.”

“What?” 

Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”

“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”

“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”

Then the bell rang. 

“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”

You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs. 

“I’ll give you both some time.”

Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke. 

You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you. 

Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”

“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual. 

“I know.”

“We’re married.”

Logan nodded. “I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”

“So we…we get a divorce?”

“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”

“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”

You could only nod. 

Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”

You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head. 

“How can you be so calm about this?”

Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”

That made you laugh a little. 

“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”

Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had. 

And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in. 

“Hey.”

You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside. 

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine. 

“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”

You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”

“Have you seen Logan today?”

You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”

Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing. 

They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did. 

You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other. 

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”

Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”

“What?”

Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”

You looked down. 

“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”

“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”

You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer. 

“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”

“If there was, something would have happened by now.”

Oh, how Storm wished that was true. 

But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back. 

There was more than just friendship. A lot more. 

“Just think about it.”

And with that she left. And you were left wondering. 

What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened. 

Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma. 

It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom. 

Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids. 

Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk. 

You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing. 

But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door. 

“Scott?”

“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”

Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”

Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”

Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink. 

“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head. 

“Not since this morning.”

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What do you want, pal?”

Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries. 

“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”

“Excuse me?”

Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”

“Perfect excuse?”

“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”

“And why should it?”

“Because you’re in love with her.”

For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan. 

“Look, bub, I know-”

“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”

“No, I’m-”

“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”

Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”

Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture. 

“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”

“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”

The conversation lulled for a moment. 

“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”

Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room. 

“Want some help?”

You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”

Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes. 

“How are you…how are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”

“Yeah, fine.”

IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually. 

That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed. 

Conversations with you were never, ever boring. 

Even when they were probably meant to be. 

And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded. 

Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends. 

But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too. 

“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you. 

You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”

“After you, wife.”

This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more. 

A divorce lawyer had picked up your case. 

It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month. 

Like nothing had ever happened. 

Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen. 

Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you. 

You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean. 

And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing. 

Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings. 

And then Logan found you in the library one night. 

“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”

Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.

“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”

Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”

Logan looked around. “You got a list?”

You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”

“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”

Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers. 

“There’s twenty six books on this list.”

“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”

And so he did. 

By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left. 

“Is this the right edition?”

“Let me see.”

Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs. 

“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”

As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you. 

“You alright?”

You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”

You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist. 

“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too. 

The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears. 

A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand. 

And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat. 

The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder. 

But you had never seen Logan so…clearly. 

You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered. 

But something in that moment was changing too. 

Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him. 

You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear. 

And he was doing the same. 

One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you. 

He was committing you to memory, too. 

His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip. 

You fell closer to him. 

Or maybe he pulled you closer. 

Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch. 

What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his. 

It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else. 

Then it snapped. 

Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you. 

Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady. 

And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you. 

Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck. 

However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off. 

“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”

“Is everything okay?”

You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why. 

“You’re right…you’re right.”

Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet. 

“We should go…before someone comes in.”

“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Then don’t.”

You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own. 

But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it. 

You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to. 

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room. 

It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night. 

Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake. 

It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget. 

When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning. 

Then he didn’t see you for three days. 

Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you. 

The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward. 

And then another moment hit. 

You didn’t close the door. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library. 

And you were wishing the same thing right back. 

“I should-”

“You should-”

A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him. 

Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all. 

And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you. 

“She’s not there?”

Logan turned immediately. “What?”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”

“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked. 

“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him. 

And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be. 

You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front. 

The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo. 

But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you. 

“Where could she have gone?”

Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened. 

Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed. 

“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“She could be half way across the world by now!”

Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”

A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment. 

“Do you know where she is?”

“I have an idea.”

With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.

“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him. 

“You don’t even know where I’m going.”

“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”

And Storm was right. 

And she was right to tag along. 

Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day. 

And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier. 

He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.

The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”

“Where is Connie?”

The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”

“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk. 

Then she saw. 

You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street. 

And Logan followed. 

However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin. 

So, he took a turn. 

He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on. 

“You fixed her up well.”

You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can. 

“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”

“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”

You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you. 

“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side. 

“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries. 

“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”

“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”

“Time from what?”

“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.

“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”

“What? Single and married?”

Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him. 

“Married and together.”

Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline. 

“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”

“Logan…”

“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”

You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”

“Then we start here, just you and me.”

“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”

Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”

You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”

“Promise me.”

Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”

Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you. 

Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Not when you finally had each other for life. 

[reagomyeggo]

whitestone is for lovers

[dribs-and-drabbles]

The Thai Communal Wardrobe item #123

Our Skyy 2 x My School President ep 9:

Wandee Goodday ep 5:

friendship involves a lot of love

[eras-tour-updates]

Tonights lover bodysuit!

Warsaw, Poland N1

[allthedesiredusernamesaretaken]

... good morning ...

[promoc]

Adopted is my Favorite Breed

https://promoc.redbubble.com

https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/165826609?asc=u

[al-alfi]

[laracrafts]

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3

[asenfar]

Childless Dog Lady For Kamala.   Celebrate the joy and companionship of furry friends with this charming artwork featuring a proud and happy dog mom. Embracing the freedom and fun of a childless lifestyle, this piece is perfect for those who find fulfillment and love in the company of their canine companions. It's a tribute to the unique bond between a dog and its owner, capturing the essence of unconditional love and joy.

[windysaturday]

[softquietsteadylove]

Hii love, may i ask for more of the Proposal Au, maybe Thena telling Gil about her family when they are in bed cuddling and having a soft moment.

Gil inhaled as he woke, dragging the morning air into his lungs. Sometimes he cursed his early rising nature, wondering if it really could be handed down through genetics like his mother liked to joke that it was. He got a whiff of Thena's shampoo.

She was cuddled right up with him, which was nothing new by now. He nuzzled the top of her head. If he couldn't sleep in on his vacation then he could at least be comfortable.

If anything, maybe they were a little too comfortable this way. But he didn't think that was a bad thing. They were getting married...kind of. It was a good thing to comfortable enough with each other to cuddle, be close, maybe share a kiss or two.

Thena pushed her head further into his chest, which meant she was also waking up.

Gil chuckled; how did he never know before how cute she was? He tapped her bare shoulder, fixing the strap of her night dress, "hey."

She made a sound of protest, especially as he rolled onto his side with his arms still around her, shifting her position of practically lying right on top of him.

Gil settled on his side, gazing at the beautiful woman next to him. He was reminded of a time when he had first met her, and it had seemed impossible to fathom how a woman as beautiful as she was had as normal a job like he did.

Thena blinked her bleary eyes open, glaring at him as soon as she could focus, "this better be good."

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he more or less whispered. It was just them and the rising sun and the breeze in his mother's perfectly landscaped yard.

"Liar," she grumbled, but still clung to the warmth he offered. "Will your mother come barging in here looking for help with another wedding activity?"

"Not today," he promised, although it wasn't really up to him if that happened. But he rubbed her back through the light material. "Even she sleeps in a little bit on sundays."

"Sunday already," Thena mused, yawning as she did.

"Yeah," Gil agreed, although the closer they got to concluding their trip here, he had to admit it made him a little sad. He would miss not seeing his close-knit family again. His sisters--even Kingo!

Thena began lazily running her fingers over his back in the t-shirt he was wearing. It felt nice to get his back scratched a little, and her hands were so small and light. Maybe he would miss things like this too.

"What?"

"Hm?" he blinked, having been happy to lose himself in her touch. But he opened his eyes again and found her staring at him, even in their close proximity.

"There's something on your mind," she clarified, moving one of her hands from his back, trailing it around his shoulder and arm to his chest. "Just ask."

He chuckled; she was quite good at reading him. Not that he professed to be a closed book in any way. "Well, I was thinking about Kari and Sersi and Mom, how I'll miss them--and I guess Kingo too."

Thena laughed quietly (cutely). She continued her little morning massage, getting all the right spots and relieving even imaginary soreness. "He would be so offended if he heard that."

"Well, I'll put it in one of my speeches, so he will," Gil resolved, and Thena laughed even more, although she tried to hide it. Kingo was still like his brother, and thus, not his favourite sibling with whom he had grown up.

And he was still a little too friendly with his fiance, but whatever.

"But," he hesitated, and that was all Thena needed to see to encourage him. "I was wondering...about your family, I guess."

"What would you like to know?"

His eyebrows shot up. He hadn't expected her to be so...willing. He adjusted himself in the bed so he could tilt his head differently. "Uh, you sure?"

He had definitely heard her tell someone at work asking about her family to go to hell (in corporate speak, which entailed asking them to keep their correspondence with her professional).

Thena settled her face in the bend of his shoulder again, letting him play with the ends of her hair. "I wouldn't say we were particularly close, even when they were alive."

"Uh-" he opened his mouth immediately, to either offer his apologies or tell her she didn't have to tell him this, or both. But she reached up just to tap his lips and keep him from interrupting further.

"I was brought up in quite a strict household," she sighed, although it didn't seem like that sad a story to her. Or maybe it sounded like she was detached from it, telling it about someone else. "My mother was a retired ballerina, very beautiful. She tried to teach me to dance but I had no natural talent--which she told me at every opportunity."

This story was getting worse and worse.

"My father was a businessman of some sort. It was never my place to ask, even as I got older. All I knew was that he supported our lifestyle. The expectations for me were high, they needed me to be a good representation of their own rigid upbringing."

"I was still quite young when they died," she continued, starting to sound more connected to the words she was saying. "They went on a trip together and simply never returned. All I was told that the ship they were taking back to mainland had experienced a problem and supposedly no one made it back."

Gil stayed silent, as she wished, but he held her tighter.

"All I had known was boarding school and tepid approval from them. If anything, I wasn't sad enough when they died--my distant relatives told me to be ashamed when I was at the funeral," she laughed again, although he could hear the dry, sardonic edge in it. "I even went to the bathroom to try and wet my eyes and appear more tearful."

He kissed her forehead, at a loss for what else to do.

"My elderly caretaker at the time was the only one really with me," she did smile again, at least. "She sat with me through it all, helped me talk to all the lawyers."

So, that was why she knew so much about contracts and settlements, even when they were both just starting in the office.

"She used to let me help her make pastries and set the table for just the two of us," Thena recounted more fondly this time, and her body also relaxed again, slowly. "She was the one who really raised me."

Gil sighed through his nose, pressing his cheek to her hair, "I'm sorry I didn't know."

"I never told you," she said much more lightly, but happily accepted the closer snuggling. "It doesn't bother me--not anymore, that is to say. But I suppose that's why being here is quite refreshing."

He blinked at her, not really making the connection between the two.

But Thena took the liberty of rolling him onto his back again, solely so she could lie half on top of him, like a lizard on a rock. She tapped his nose, then dragged it down over his lips and chin (he needed a shave). "Your family is so warm and kind. I admit it overwhelmed me at first, the sheer density of their presence."

Kingo alone would do that to anyone, Gil defended in his mind. He wrapped his arms around her, letting her rest her chin on his chest, cramping his neck to he could watch her draw little circles in his shirt.

"They're wonderful, Gil," she concluded, drawing her eyes up to him more tenderly. It was almost shy, in how gentle the admission was. "It's the kind of warmth I remember longing for as a child. So, next time you worry that your mother is being overbearing, I assure you, I have invited it."

He chuckled; of course Thena would meet the double barrelled energy canon that was his mother and say that she invited her exuberance. Ajak was bright and bouncy and extroverted, while Thena was quiet and subdued and borderline unsociable. It made it all the more charming how much they seemed to like each other. "Could be worse in-laws, I guess."

The marriage itself was becoming less taboo as a subject.

"Much worse," Thena smiled with her teeth. It really was a stunning smile. She gripped a piece of shirt between her fingers. "What is this?"

He chuckled again, unwrapping his arms from her slim little waist and running his hands over her bare arms. "My shirt?"

"I mean," she frowned at it, "why are you wearing it?"

"Well," he got out pathetically, turning pink as soon as she pursed her lips at him in suspicion. He looked up and away from her, "'cause...y'know."

"I don't, it's why I asked," she sat up now, legs curled up beside her while she was almost perpendicular with his upper body. She grabbed a larger fistful of the shirt--the offending white cotton. "I know you get too hot easily, I don't believe you wear this to sleep in the summer."

Gil huffed; she was a good detective. "I usually sleep shirtless, but I didn't want you to feel weird about it."

"Oh," she purred, finding amusement in it. She tugged at it, "to protect my maidenly virtues?"

"Okay, come on," he sighed, embarrassed enough and trying to get her to release the fabric of it. "Is being a gentleman to my fiance so bad?"

She released the material, flattening her palm against his chest again. "It's not anything I haven't seen, by now."

Between the beach and all the times he had generally taken off his shirt to do heavy lifting or gardening for his mother while here, she had gotten enough of a look at him.

"But this is," he did his best to look her right in the eye (despite her holding back her laughter at him). "It's different."

She raised her eyebrows at him.

He sighed, finally relinquishing the last of his drowsiness and sitting up against the pillows. He still had a hold of her arms, fixing that errant night dress strap again. "Does it always do that?"

"Don't avoid the question."

"You didn't ask a question."

Thena tugged at the bottom of the t-shirt, only to pull it up just slightly, as if she were threatening to pull it off of him herself. "Why is it different?"

He sighed; the Goddess of War didn't get her name for being flexible and knowing when to quit. He moved his hands from her bare shoulders to her waist again, somewhat pulling her with him as he leaned back against the headboard. "Because, sleeping with you was already new. I figured what's the harm in a little modesty?"

She shrugged one of those shoulders, delicate and dainty and pale. And that stupid strap fell again. He secured his thumb right in the bend of her clavicle to fix it yet again.

"Does this even fit?" he grumbled, toying with the flimsy little strap of satin. He eyed her, "do you always wear this to sleep?"

Something about the question ruffled her, and he watched as a blush brightened her morning complexion. She looked around the bed, as if her answer had been lost in the sheets somewhere. "That's-"

"Guys?"

"Mom!" Gil barked at the door, his hands on Thena, her threatening to tip his shirt off him.

"What?--you said to knock, and I did!"

She had a point.

"I just wanted to say we're going to go out for brunch, honey--give you a break from all the cooking."

If it was going to be brunch - breakfast/lunch - why was she still coming to tell them at the crack of dawn?

"You kids continue...take your...just come downstairs when you're ready--okay, I'm going!"

Gil thunked his head against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling. Only his mother. He looked at Thena, whose blush had somehow doubled. That was interesting. He tilted his head, trying to see more of her face, but she twisted herself to avoid looking at him. "You okay?"

"Hm," she answered in a total cop out. She released his t-shirt, attempting to pull herself away from him without further incriminating herself.

"Ah-" he held her steady, leaning forward again. She looked really cute all flustered. He kissed her cheek, and he wasn't sure if he felt her shiver or if she twitched. "If you hate it so much, then fine, I won't wear it anymore."

He was only somewhat serious about it, although if it really bothered her, he didn't want to offend his bride-to-be. And he was more joking than anything. Although, when he finally moved to get up and get ready for the day, Thena tugged at the collar of it one more time.

She was still avoiding looking right at him, but god she was beautiful. "I didn't say I hated it. But...I wouldn't say you need it, either."

He could have said the same about the silky little dress-thing she was wearing, the straps of which obviously weren't working for her. But she did release him, and he did have to get up and maybe have a shower (maybe on the cooler side).

She looked at him as, on his way, he hooked his finger in that stupid strap again. He twisted it in his finger before letting it fall back to where it seemed to think it belonged. "Same to you."

[unitepeople]

(via "Ethereal Shores. Summer at Pink Glitter Beach landscape art" Sticker for Sale by Unitepeople)

🌅✨ Dive into a dream where the sky kisses the sea with hues of pink and gold. This enchanting beachscape, sparkling with ethereal beauty, invites you to a serene escape from reality. Let the tranquil waves and shimmering sands whisper tales of a whimsical world where magic exists in every grain. 🐚🌸

[cricketnationrise]

for @cha-melodius who is having A Time right now.

And once you've read this, you should go read her fics and comment so she can have even more little pops of serotonin.

[ingravinoveritas]

hi, sorry. throwaway blog because i'm genuinely ashamed of myself for this but i need to get this out there or i will explode.

after spending a little too long on your blog i somehow can't stop thinking about David Tennant face-riding Michael Sheen.

i imagine that David would be fully naked while Michael would keep his clothes on, and David's fingers would soon become entangled with Michael's hair as Michael works his magic, David throwing his head back as the pleasure builds, Michael's hands finding their way to David's hips and thighs as he (Michael) continues to push David closer and closer to the edge. David would make the prettiest squeals as Michael's tongue would caress his most intimate areas, only a few flicks of Michael's tongue away from spilling over the edge.

sorry about this,

-anon

Hi there, Anon! I'm not exactly sure what it is you're sorry for, because this is delicious and thoroughly hot, and you have no reason to feel ashamed. I've had other Anons send me freestyle Michael/David smutty scenarios in the past, so you are far from the first person to do this and will likely not be the last. Haha.

What makes this especially delightful is that David actually has the perfect t-shirt for this very occasion:

I know that when Georgia originally posted this on Insta a few months ago, the assumption seemed to be that David was the one having his face sat on. But there's really no reason at all to think that he wouldn't equally enjoy sitting on someone's face...especially if that someone is Michael.

Let me counter you on one point, though, which is the exact type of noises David would be making while Michael pleasures him. Rather than squeals, I could more see David sounding very breathy. Lower-pitched gasps that begin to take on a slightly higher tone the closer he gets to climax. I also see him swearing a fair bit when Michael teases him, holding back on his ministrations just to get David to beg for more. His thick-rimmed glasses slipping when he looks down at Michael and sees those tigerish eyes locked on him, along with every inch of Michael's concentration. Moans that start out soft and get louder as David rocks his hips, rapidly losing control as Michael plays his body like the most perfect of all instruments...

Whew. I think I got a little carried away there, but it was hard not to, with such excellent source material. Thank you for sharing this, Anon, and do feel free to write more...