#they’d be like This is not a date and then they’d do date stuff and have nice dinner anyways

[for-your-modesty-dude]

Valentine pt. 3

Part 1 … Part 2

A/N: Y'all I am so freaking sorry it's been so long. I literally showed up, started writing fics, and then disappeared forever. I'm not gonna lie, life has been absolutely insane recently. There's been so much going on, and my family is dealing with some stuff that is way far out of our control. Am I panicking? Maybe. Am I also fine? Yes. I don't know how it works. I'm sure my therapist plays a part in that LOL. Anyway, here it is. Part 3 of Valentine. I'm not going to lie to you, it really did not turn out nearly as good as I'd hoped. But I really really wanted to finish this so I could maybe get back into writing again. I need to fall in love with my hobbies again. I hope it's not too crappy. Please send in requests or fic suggestions. Maybe one of them will inspire me. I love you all forever! - Hy <3

Summary: Eddie finally makes his move!

Warnings: None that I can think of. Maybe some gross fluff, and like... subpar writing.

Word Count: 2k

Gareth and Jeff gave him the best advice they could. They tried, really. But they were hardly the romantic type, so Eddie took some of their advice- but the rest he let fly out the other ear. He eventually grabbed his backpack and ran out to his van, driving home as quickly as he could without getting himself another traffic ticket. 

He ran inside and threw his backpack onto the couch and kicked his boots off before sliding in his socks to his phone, picking it up and dialing your number. 

“Hello?” You picked up with a yawn, and Eddie wondered if he’d woken you up. 

“Heeey, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Did I wake you?”

“God no,” you tell him. “I was rereading the same page of this book for the fourth time. Can’t keep my focus, ‘m just bored. How was D&D? You’re home so early. Wait… Did you kill them?” You ask with a breathy laugh, imagining the night ending with Eddie decimating the party. 

“It was good! And- nah. The guys were restless, had places to be,” he lied, and there was a pause of comfortable silence. “But honestly, it was alright. Not the same without you there, don’t worry,” he smiled to himself. His kindness made your cheeks go pink. 

“Oh, please,” you scoffed with amusement evident in your voice. “Like you don’t love not having me around to bother your boys’ club,” you mostly joked. Eddie did not find it funny. 

“What? Don’t say that. We love having you around. You know that,” he said seriously. The seriousness of his tone made you smile. 

“Okay, okay, Ed. Thank you,” you tell him softly. “Gimme the rundown, then.”

He started to tell you all about how far they got in the campaign, having to make some stuff up to not give away how little they’d actually played. You seemed satisfied, and you believed him. “So… any fun plans tomorrow?” He asked. 

“Nah. Commiserating. Wanna join?” 

“I can come over?” He asked, hopeful. 

“Course you can. I’ll make room on the couch. I’ll even push aside the stale bag of chips for you to sit down next to me,” you joked. The two of you kept sharing jokes and silly comments until you got too sleepy to go on, so you hung up and headed to bed. 

The next morning, Eddie got up - way earlier than the Munson boy ever woke up on a Saturday - but he had so much to do. He first packed a duffel - necessary for his date, later - and then freshened up as much as he could. 

When he was finally ready, he dialed your number and chewed on his lip as he waited for you to pick up. 

“Mornin’,” you greeted, sleepy but awake. 

“Hey sweets, it’s me,” Eddie said, full of nervous energy. “We never decided on a time last night. Do you wanna hang now, or…?” He twirled the phone cable around his finger and back the other way. 

“Oh, that’s right. Honestly, now’s totally fine. I’m just finishing my coffee now. Wanna stop at the Family Video for us? I’ll pay you back when you get here.” You offered him. 

“I’ll stop by there, yeah. And no need, keep your cash, doll. I’ll see you soon, then!” He hung up before you could even respond, leaving you to laugh to yourself. He was so easily distracted. 

It gave you just enough time to prepare for his arrival - you changed into nicer sweats and actually styled your hair a little, fighting the urge to put on some makeup. This was just Eddie. You knew you wouldn’t make him fall in love with you with some mascara, not after he’d seen you at your worst so many times before. You just needed to accept that he was always going to remain a wonderful friend and nothing more. 

When Eddie showed up, he looked nicer than he usually did for movie dates at your place, but you didn’t think anything of it. You would just secretly admire him from across the room. Better him here with you than out with another girl, you supposed. 

The day started off normally enough. You had some snacks and watched a couple of movies, but Eddie seemed to keep checking his watch. Something about it was weird, because he didn’t seem in a rush to leave, but almost like he was expecting someone. It got to be too much when he checked his watch for the third time in less than 5 minutes, so you kicked him lightly with a socked foot from your side of the couch. 

“Why do you keep checking the clock, you weirdo? Did you invite someone to my house?” You ask with your nose slightly scrunched in displeasure. 

“What?” He blinked, “no- no. I wouldn’t- no. Uhh… you probably wanna go get ready, sweetheart,” he let his head fall back against the couch cushion lazily, making your brows furrow. 

“Get ready? For what?” You sat up, eyes searching his face which was- unfortunately unreadable. Damn DM instincts. 

“Do you trust me?” He turned his head to look at you, and something about his gaze in that moment made you blush, and you nodded. “Then go get ready. Wear somethin’ nice. I’m going to make use of the bathroom here. Let me know if you need any help,” he pushed himself up off of the couch and grabbed the duffel bag he’d packed himself, and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you to stare at him with a bewildered look. It took you a moment to shake off the surprise, but you managed to, and dragged yourself up the stairs to shower and get ready. You styled your hair in your usual favorite going-out style, not knowing just how dolled up you were supposed to get but figuring more was always better. You’d rather be overdressed than underdressed. 

And of course, because Eddie would see you in this outfit, you couldn’t help but to choose a dress you’d been secretly saving for just this kind of occasion. It fit like a glove, but you’d never actually gotten the opportunity to wear it out before. Wearing it now felt foreign, but looking at yourself in the mirror helped your self-image considerably. This dress looked good on you, and you hoped he’d think the same. 

You exited your bedroom to find Eddie’s duffel bag on your couch, and his ratty sneakers by your door, but… no Eddie. The bathroom door was open, showing it was empty, so you searched the kitchen before peeking through the blinds to the parking lot. You didn’t see Eddie’s van, but he’d left his things, so… he was probably coming back, right? You paced a bit in your heels, chewing on your lip as you considered all of the possibilities. 

Before you could decide to change out of your nice outfit, you heard a knock at the door, and hurried to answer it, finding Eddie standing there with a bouquet of black peonies and deep red tulips. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you blinked up at him, realizing he looked incredibly put together and handsome. You wanted to ask what he was doing, but as the blush reached your cheeks, you simply floundered for the words to say, and you stood there in an awkward sort of silence. 

“I uh- these are for you,” he cleared his throat and told you, wiping a clammy hand on his black jeans. You took another moment to flounder before taking the flowers and staring down at them. You eventually found your voice. 

“Oh. Thank- thank you,” you managed quietly, “what are these for?”

He ran a nervous hand through his hair and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. It was now or never.. “Uh- well- see- you mentioned how upset you were to never have anyone interested in you, but… it’s just not true, you know? Cause I have been interested in you probably since we met, and you never seemed interested back. But I figure, even if you’re not into me, I can show you a good time and prove to you that it’s not true, and someone really does like you, like a lot. If- if you’ll be my valentine, that is. I spent so long hoping you’d just magically realize that I liked you, because the idea of actually telling you- almost killed me. I was terrified. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, the person who knows me the best, and the one girl in the whole world who ever saw past my weird and gave me a chance to be her friend. This might be totally insane, but I just want you to know how- loved you are. By me. Romantically.” He felt he was digging himself into a hole, so he added an awkward “okay… I’m talking done now.”

You stared at him for a long while in stunned silence, and he looked anywhere but your eyes, growing increasingly restless as your silence swallowed him whole. He almost backed out and said it wasn’t actually that insane, he didn’t love you, don’t worry, but before he could, you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, wordless. He returned it with enthusiasm, squeezing you tight and burying his nose in your hair. He held you until he heard your quiet “thank you.” Only then did he pull back to look at you, your eyes a bit misty. 

“Hey, no way, don’t thank me. I’m the one who’s been in love with you, remember?” He joked, “if anything, thank you for letting me take you out and live out my dream for one night.” 

You could tell he was being self-deprecating, and couldn’t bear it. You pulled him inside, placed the bouquet on the nearest surface, and grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him down for a sudden kiss. He fumbled a moment, hands up in shock, before gripping your hips and pulling you into him, eyes squeezing shut as he deepened the kiss. If this was a dream, he wasn’t going to waste it. He was going to enjoy every goddamn second. 

Eventually, you pulled back with a breathless giggle at the way he chased your lips. “Let me breathe, Edward,” your voice was light, airy, and full of laughter. His eyes opened to watch you with the dreamiest expression. 

“Pinch me. I must be dreaming,” he said simply, making you laugh more. You pushed him away, cheeks red, still giggling. 

“Shut up. I- yes. Of course I’ll be your valentine. But where are we even going?” You asked him, picking up the bouquet to go put it in a vase. He still hadn’t shaken out of his trance, so he stared after you in silence a moment before coming to his senses again.

“Oh- uh- that’s a surprise. But you- damn- dressed for the occasion. So not to worry, it’ll be great.” He promised, following you into the kitchen and reaching up to grab the vase you liked from the higher shelf. You thanked him and unwrapped the bouquet, filling the vase before placing it into the water and placing the arrangement on your kitchen table. 

“I’ve been totally obsessed with you since, like, the day we met,” you confessed, which had his eyes nearly bulging. 

“No way. You- no way. You’re like, way out of my league.” That made you laugh, and you pulled him down for a kiss again. 

“Shut up, Eddie. And take me on our first date,” you hummed against his lips. 

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed breathlessly, pulling you flush against him. 

“And by the way, Eddie…” You started at a whisper. 

“Yeah?” He matched your tone.

“I didn’t ‘see past’ your weird. I saw your weird. And I needed it in my life.”

He nearly melted at your feet just then, but pushed forward to kiss you again, to keep from saying something stupid or embarrassing himself with getting emotional.

“I love you,” he told you. “I really, seriously, love you.”

“I- Eddie, I love you too,” you told him in return, butterflies erupting in your stomach and heart racing out of your chest before kissing him again.

You would definitely be a minute or two late to that reservation, but damn, if it wasn’t worth it.

Taglist: @am0iur @ali-r3n @hellmastereddie @ziggeddie @nojamsonmytoast @seedlingghost @loveu2themoonandsaturn @aliceheart247 @littlemissholy @daydreampending @justalotoffanfiction @midnightdragonzero @iyskgd @girlwedontcare

[henreyettah]

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💌

[electric-plants]

someone would ask cyno if he has any luck rituals before tcg competitions and he’d say some dead serious shit about how he doesn’t believe in luck only skill and perseverance etc etc just for him to turn around to alhaitham offering him a good luck kiss and he’s immediately all “please🥺”

[jakeowen]

my new cut & color looks really god according to everyone but tbh i find it mid UNLESS i curl my hair, then it looks fucking awesome. problem is i do not like to put time and/or effort into my appearance. seriously considering a perm

[chenfordswopez]

Seddie moodboard

[ca-d]

little rainy day adventures 🌧️

[deus-ex-mona]

ok but. my flamin’ hot take is that hw’s tendency to lock lore/character/relationship info behind a paywall kind of does more harm than good when gen 3 (particularly lxl, hiyori, and chizuchan) is involved

[selchwife]

part of the issue with Introject Situation Aforementioned is i do often worry that on a surface level it scans as very ridiculous and put-on (wow! someone with DID who is ashamed & self conscious about his symptoms? should we tell everyone? should we throw a party? should we invite onno van der hart) but like. I mean it’s a serious part of my life that affects me in material ways majorly and this particular set of symptoms is like 90% of how im able to at all get through stuff like flashbacks. coping through selfship is why these parts are introjects of who they are. i can’t possibly imagine having an irl partner who wouldn’t be respectful of something so intimately tied with my trauma history. i 1000% feel like them having any shit to say about like selfshipping or how it relates to my DID would be like. Instant breakup level. like i deserve to be taken seriously with something that’s important to me AND that has ties to really serious shit going on in my life

[yourheartinyourmouth]

my sibling in Gaia………you came to a fandom steeped heavily (and historically) in fetish and are…..shocked when it contains fetish????????????

that’s like going to a Star Trek convention and being shocked at how many people are horny for Spirk

I feel like a lot of the adults who put up a stink about not wanting to see leather and fetish gear at furcons weren't around for the "go yiff in hell furfags" era of the internet..

[heavenbarnes]

I used to date an older guy (like mid 40s) a few years back and I always got stupidly turned on when he fixed stuff around his house?? Like, he just knew hot to do it and did it. No googling, just him and his tools. Feel like it would fit somewhere in your older bf Simon stuff.

god love a fully capable “fuck it i’ll do it” type of man 🫶🏼

you know that your older bf!simon doesn’t believe in hiring tradespeople for a service.

“why would i pay someone to fuck about in my home?”

“they’re not fucking about, si! they’d be fixing the sink”

“i’ll do it”

you have no doubt that simon was more than capable of fixing things around the house but you also wanted him relaxing when he was home.

turns out he couldn’t relax at the thought of another man doing something for you.

so you let him do it, you threw your hands up and waved your white tea towel in defeat as you heard him banging around in the garage for tools.

hearing the faint sounds of grunting and the occasional swear word coming from the bathroom, you thought it might pay to go and see how he was getting on.

fucking hell.

simon was on his back, arms stretched up above him as his hands dwarfed the pipe they were wrapped around. t-shirt riding up, lines of his stomach leading right to his belt, knees bent and boots firmly planted on the floor, you could honestly just-

“oi, you gonna’ stare or help me?”

now how the fuck?

“your heads in the cupboard, how did you know-“

“i always know where you are, pass me the wrench”

crouching down beside him, you handed it over and stayed down there to watch him work. scarred knuckles wrapped around the handle of the tool, other palm flat against the base of the sink so you could see the veins.

he was something else entirely.

“how d’you know how to do all this?”

“taught m’self, come hold this”

you reached over to replace where his palm was so he could have both hands back. “but why? surely other people don’t learn all this?”

“other people don’t care about their sweet’art not having to lift a finger- move your finger for me”

the more you stretched to hold the sink, the more you felt yourself losing traction with it. naturally, simon noticed before you did.

“y’need to get closer, cm’ere”

tools landing to the side of him, two large hands plucked you up till you were dropped in his lap. precarious situation but you couldn’t deny the sink was a lot easier to reach.

you stayed like that, letting simon work in peace as you enjoyed your view. honestly, he could invite you to the end of the world and you’d just be happy to hold his hand.

one hand splayed out on his chest, the other holding the sink, you suddenly felt a tickle forming at the end of your nose. before you knew it, you were pulling your hand back to scratch it- the one holding the sink.

you panicked, realising it could very well land on simon’s head. but it didn’t, it stayed completely still. face screwing up, you leant in again to give the sink a nudge only to find out it was totally fixed.

“what the hell, si? why’d you have me doing all that?”

you saw the smirk on his face as he flashed a look over at you. suddenly, you realised you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

the hand that didn’t have the wrench came out to give you a pat on the side of your hip.

“c’mon sweet’art, i can’t get anything outta’ this?”

[heyitsoak]

MOVIE SHADOW X READER HEADCANONS

Gender neutral reader

Just finished watching Sonic 3 and it was awesome!! Haven’t seen anyone written for movie Shadow yet sooo.. 👀

Warnings?: No spoilers for the movie in this! But maybe him being out of character, I haven’t wrote anything in years lol

- I feel like his love languages would be quality time and physical touch, he wouldn’t be used to touch at first but would gradually warm up to it. Definitely wouldn’t be the type to be over the top with public affection. Maybe handholding or a hand on your waist in public, but that’s probably it

- Might would be one to get jealous, needs reassurance that you’re not leaving and that you love him, truly. He’s been through a lot and needs to know that you’re not leaving him too

- Likes looking at the stars with you!! Reminds me of that one meme

“Do u like stars?”

“Ya, they’re cool”

- Likes to watch moves with you too! Just please don’t have him watch movies that have ‘aliens’ that are considered bad guys in it :( Just watch cat videos on YouTube with him, he’d be content with that

- Try and show him video games! He’d be really confused on how the controls work, a lot has changed in fifty years

- I feel like he’d like the game Stray, cause cats!! I feel like he absolutely loves cats. Would also probably like Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon and Animal Crossing. Anything that’s a calm game where you can just do whatever

- Speaking of cats.. he’d love going to a cat cafe with his s/o, would probably want to take them all home afterwards though

- Would end up having a black cat come up to him, rubbing against him and purring. He’d just pick up the cat and ask

“..can we take him home?”

- You can’t say no to Shadow, especially when he’s holding a cat in his hands.. so needless to say, you guys have a new pet now

- But besides cafe dates, just staying at home and cuddling would be perfectly fine with him as a date, anywhere with you, he’s happy

- I feel like he’d genuinely be a really good boyfriend, just takes him time to warm up a bit and get more comfortable with romantic stuff

- And motorcycle rides!! They’d be so fun, but if you get scared if he ever goes too fast, just ask for him to slow down or go a normal speed, he’d probably listen (cause it’s you)

- Gets all blushy and flustered when it comes to physical affection and kisses, he’s not used to it but he loves it

- He’d also like music, specifically older songs. Likes to put vinyls on a record player and dance with you to the song :’)) even if you don’t know how to dance, he’ll try and guide you

Not really sure what else to add here! Hopefully this was good, sorry if it was out of character :’)

I absolutely love Shadow so much, he’s such a cool character and looked so amazing in the movie

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[morganbritton132]

(The conclusion to Dustin’s quest to prove he’s friends with Steve)

Dustin cancelled on him.

Well, no. Actually.

The drama club reclaimed their space for the duration of auditions and Eddie had told his sheep that they’d hold Hellfire over the weekend at Gareth’s house, and Dustin said no. To Eddie.

He said, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I can’t come.”

Which is frankly unacceptable. Eddie is refusing to accept it, “Why not?”

“It’s a family thing,” He shrugs. “It’s date specific. I can’t movie it.“

Unfathomably. Unacceptable.

That’s why Eddie is standing here on Dustin’s front porch at nine in the morning with a half baked plan to convince Claudia Henderson that Dusting doesn’t need to visit his sick aunt or whatever. It was all needless because she ushered him inside as soon as she opened the door and told him, “You’re staying for breakfast, aren’t ya hun? Dusty’s in the living room.”

Dustin was in the living room, konked out on one side of the couch under a huge blanket. Eddie walked up to him and knocked his knuckles against his forehead.

Dustin jumps up, “I’m up! I’m up. I’m - Eddie?”

“In the flesh.”

“What are you - I told you I can’t come to D&D,” Dustin huffs. “I have stuff to do today and it’s-“

The blanket on the other side of the couch sits up like The Undertaker before being pulled away to reveal, “Harrington?!”

“Wha’s happ’ning?” Steve yawns before flopping back down. “If you got s’mthing t’do today, go do it.”

“Um, no?” Dustin says. “It’s your birthday. I’m not going to- oh my god. Oh my god, proof that Steve is my friend! Eddie, look! He’s in my house.”

Dustin gestures wildly at Steve, who just fondly rolls his eyes in return. Eddie just has to stare because, what the fuck.

He can’t think of anything to say so he settles on, “Happy birthday?”

[quarterlifekitty]

Love the trope of Price mentally constructing a nursery in every home and apartment he’s ever known, in the house of everyone he’s ever dated— it’s the first thing he thinks of (right after where on his body he’s gonna tattoo their name).

He has his dream nursery memorized. It’s his mind palace. He wants cream yellow walls, because his baby is going to be the sun, the same way his wife is his moon, with the away she has over his heart of the sea. He wants an accent wall with wallpaper in a classic motif— the kind they use in pediatricians offices, to be honest. Building blocks, fluffy clouds, circus animals.

John loves tradition, generational passings on, well-crafted things that can last centuries if cared for well enough. He wants his nursery furniture, all of the stuff in his house, really— to be solid wood, handmade (he promises that he’ll make the bulk of it himself, the rest antique). He’d rather die than buy a brand new house without any history. No craftsmanship, all straight lines and 90 degree angles, no consideration to what makes a home feel like home.

Despite being such a trusted member of the team, he knows precious little about your home life. Fine by him— your past is your own, he has no right to it. One day, as you’re about to pack up for leave around the holidays, you ask to speak to him as a friend, rather than a captain.

It’s well known that Price doesn’t have the family he’s dreamed of. An old war dog, bridges burned with the ex wife from his youth, he doesn’t hold out a lot of hope. Maybe in the next lifetime, it will be different. He’ll have that yellow nursery.

You tell him, with an astonishing amount of composure, that your parents passed away almost a year ago. They’ve left the care of the family home to you. It’s quite an undertaking— large, as it used to host all manner of aunt and uncle and cousin generations ago. But now, people are in the spirit of moving far away. Old wounds and grudges, new opportunities. Your parents had their own issues conceiving— leaving you an only child.

Gaz has his family to go home to, so does Soap. No one knows what Ghost does, but everyone suspects he follows Soap home for the holidays. Price has been invited time and time again, but always politely refuses. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the dream out of his reach.

But you tell him this will be your first holiday alone in the house, and that you need him. You don’t know if you can bear the silence for the season. Not to mention all of the upkeep you’re behind on. He figures it’s as good a place to be as any, and he’s the type who needs his hands busy to find any peace.

He falls in love with your old place. Sure, the bannisters could do with being refinished, a bit of carpeting could come up, a few fixtures are spotty— but it’s a beautiful place. Still very much full of love and warmth, the traces of you and your little family are everywhere. In the tarnished silver picture frames, the fraying knitted potholders, the penciled in height markings at the kitchen door.

On the tour, he’s stopped dead in his tracks at one open door. Faded yellow walls, slats of chestnut. A crib.

You explain to him that it used to be your nursery. It had been your mother’s, too, and many more. They kept it perfectly in tact when you’d grown up and moved into another room, hoping that they’d give you a little sibling. The day never came. You’re wondering yourself what to do with it— your career hasn’t left you with much time or appetite for romance. There’s a stinging sadness dripping from your words like lemon juice. You admit that you suspect this family, once monumental, will end with you— the house passed to someone who will strip off the carved filigrees of the stair railing, throw white paint over all of the walls, and put grey vinyl over the hardwood. That is, if they don’t just tear it down. Land could be divided up into a few new apartment units.

You’re barely listening to yourself talk— just ambling along, as if you haven’t just revealed to John Price what his life’s been leading up to all this time.

[checkeredflagggs]

Scavenger Hunt

pairing: max verstappen x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans are baffled when they spot max verstappen running about Monaco on Valentine’s Day — what’s causing him such panic?

a/n: inspired by the upcoming baby verstappen and little Donut

a/n2: I know there’s a typo in one of the texts but I didn’t want to rewrite that so imagine there isn’t please

Masterlist | Taglist

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user1: it’s so early and on Valentine’s Day…are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?

↳user2: that he forgot to get y/n something and is now rushing around last minute?

↳user1: yup!

user3: it’s so fun to see celebrities act just like regular people

user4: just how early is it over there

↳user5: extremely. I honestly have no idea what he’s doing up right now

user6: early, rushing around, and he’s still kind enough to smile at people…

↳user7: I have no idea how people think he’s a villian

↳user8: right? He’s just a little pookie

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and y/n

Bluesky

user9: another max spotting!

user10: he must have completely forgotten about Valentine’s Day…

user11: wild thoughts thrown into the universe but…are they even still dating??

↳user12: what??

↳user11: neither of them have posted anything about each other in months. By this point in winter break last year, there was like 100 photos of what they were doing and where they were going…

↳user12: omg don’t even say such thing again…

↳user13: ohhh you have a point. I don’t like it but you have a point…

user14: was he up at the crack of dawn or something??

↳user15: that’s what I was wondering…

user16: ok but where was he going in such a hurry??

↳user17: I saw him today! He was ducking into a local bakery and he came out empty handed about 2 minutes later

↳user16: he’s rushing about at the crack of dawn to go to bakeries???

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Charles (and Alex) and y/n

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user18: I saw him this time!

↳user19: well?

↳user18: another bakery and this time he came out with a bag from them. He was still in a rush

↳user19: interesting interesting 🤔

user20: he’s been spotted all over Monaco hasn’t he?

↳user21: At least 4 different locations now yes!

↳user20: have they all been bakeries?

↳user21: as far as we know yes

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user22: he looks so good!

↳user23: he always does… y/n is so lucky…

user24: was it another bakery?

↳user25: it was!

↳user19: hmmmm

user26: did he answer any questions while he was signing?

↳user27: he was chatting with us!

↳user28: did you get anything interesting from him?

↳user27: thankfully he’s still dating y/n — he was laughing because apparently she had ordered donuts from a bakery last night but forgot which one so he’s out and about trying to track them down

↳user28: awwww

↳user19: 📝📝📝

user19: I have a theory!

↳user29: is it completely crazy and out there?

↳user19: no! Well maybe! But I have some proof!

↳user29: oh no…

user19

liked by user, user, user, and 21,823 others

user19: I believe that y/n, Max Verstappen's girlfriend, is pregnant! Facts!

1 — these are the last photos she posted of herself before she went into a soft blackout (she’s only posted a couple of congratulations for Max and the McLaren boys near the end of the season). Those clothes and that pose? Classic for hiding pregnancy — and it even looks like she has a bump in that last one

2 — Max's store has a host of new baby items (cute af and I’ve already ordered some for my nieces and nephews). Why would he seemingly spontaneously start to carry baby stuff? Cause he’s got a kid on the way

3 — the last couple streams Max has done, he’s talked about legacy and the future. Not the strongest evidence but both Max and y/n have said in the past that they’d like to have a kid or 2 when they get more settled in their lives

4 — Max’s behavior today. Rushing all about various bakeries? That just screams pregnancy cravings — I bet that y/n sent him out to get something specific and he was trying to find it/them

In conclusion, y/n is pregnant and I think she’s pretty far along — and they’re trying to hide it

view all comments

user30: oh my god…

↳user31: baby verstappen incoming!

user32: holy shit…

↳user33: I don’t know what to say here

↳user32: I do! user19 you’re crazy

↳user19: just because I’m right doesn’t mean I’m crazy!!!

user34: I don’t think I’ve wanted anything to be more true in my life…

↳user35: big mood

user36: this is such a stretch but god do I want it to be true

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and Charles and y/n

Private Messages, Max and y/n

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,913,923 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: our little family is growing — this is Donatello. Thank you yourusername for the wonderful Valentine’s Day surprise!

And baby Verstappen is coming Spring 2025

view all comments

user37: WHAT???

↳user38: it’s just like max to showcase his cats first…

↳user37: well baby Donatello came to the house before baby Verstappen liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1

yourusername: awww I’m glad you like little Donatello

↳yourusername: and that you didn’t mind me sending you all over the place this morning

↳user39: did you really send him on a goose chase today?

↳yourusername: well I had to get him out of the apartment somehow and pregnancy cravings are a good catch all 😂

↳maxverstappen1: schatje…

↳yourusername: you love me really

↳yourusername: and i had to come up with something when you heard me talking about Donut…

↳user39: awww is his nickname Donut?

↳yourusername: no

↳maxverstappen1: yes

↳charles_leclerc: yes 😊

↳yourusername: ugh

oscarpiastri: congrats on the new additions

↳yourusername: thanks Oscar!

charles_leclerc: you’re welcome for helping!

↳yourusername: thanks again Charles!

↳maxverstappen1: yes thank you

↳charles_leclerc: ☺️☺️

↳yourusername: oh yeah max he wants godfather liked by charles_leclerc

landonorris: and i don’t get any thanks for helping?

↳user40: threesome??

↳maxverstappen1: what

↳landonorris: no no no I helped hide the new cat

↳yourusername: ewww no. He hid some of the extra cat supplies for me in an effort to bag godfather

↳maxverstappen1: say goodbye to the potential godfather title

↳landonorris: FUCK

↳charles_leclerc: HA!

user19: I WAS RIGHT!! liked by user53

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff