#cash for cars logan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shellshocklove · 1 month ago

Text

snapshot | old man!logan

pairing/AU: old man!logan howlett x female!reader

summary: short on money for rent, your joke about starting an only fans account, to earn some extra cash, goes over logan's head. but when an accident with charles puts your life in danger, logan takes you up on your offer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! friends with benefits vibes who are also idiots in love, implied age gap, swearing, mentions and drinking of alcohol, use of pet names, logan's a bit of a grumpy dick, sex work, logan can't use a phone, logan can carry reader but he's also extremely strong, smut, praise kink, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), dom!logan, logan's got a dirty mouth, a little dacryphilia, sloppy blow job, facial, cum play, no use of y/n

a/n: a little disclaimer. i actually have no idea how OF work i only read the wikipedia page, so i've taken some liberties with it to fit it with the plot lol. the idea for the reader as charles' caretaker is inspired by @joelsgoldrush's fic never is a promise <- incredible fic that everyone should read! and also a big thank you to @guiltyasdave for all the encouragement on this fic!! <333 happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The coffee tasted sour on his tongue as he waited, engine running on empty, but the whiskey kept his throat warm. Behind the apartment complex the sun crawled up the horizon and split the the dark asphalt in pieces with streaks of blinding sunlight. The street lights shut off just as you walked out, the rickety door slamming shut behind you.

Watching you round the front of the limousine Logan pulled his seat forward, his rough hand grabbing the wheel as his left foot tapped impatiently on the footrest. A tickle in his throat had him greet you with a cough, and he brought his fist to his mouth.

"Morning to you too," you said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"Don't fuckin' slam the door like that– I've told you a thousand times," Logan grunted back and put the car in drive.

This was routine at this point. He picked you up in the morning after driving all night, and dropped you off again in the evening before he started his shift. Employing you took a large wad of cash out of his pocket, but at least he didn't have to worry about Charles being taken care of. You weren't a registered nurse or anything, not someone who'd had all the right references and education, but you needed money and didn't ask questions, and that had been perfect for Logan. He'd hired you about a year ago, and everything after had been routine.

When you didn't say anything back, only shifted your weight in the seat and leaned your head against the window, it pulled at something inside Logan. He couldn't deny you were a beautiful woman. He liked the way your nose curved, how soft your skin felt against his cheek every time you'd given him a reluctant hug, and he liked the way you smelled. It was primal, and in another life Logan would've had you in his bed already, but in this life, Logan was done with beautiful women.

Still early enough for the roads to be empty, Logan pushed the speed limit as he waited for you to speak – to finally say something trivial like you did every morning – some song you'd just discovered, or the plot twist in the reality program you watched every night, or how they were out of your favorite yogurt at the grocery store. He'd reply with a grunt, or with nothing at all, just letting you talk.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan noticed how you picked at the skin around your nails, and when the sharp metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils, he heaved a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong with you?" he grumbled. A lilt of annoyance coated the words, and Logan hated how your silence had affected him. His harsh tone didn't seem to bother you, and the realization cut like a knife; biting down, Logan's jaw clenched.

"It's nothing."

Logan had to hold back the scoff he wanted to let out, "Clearly it's somethin', kid."

Finally, a reaction out of you. Pushing yourself to sit up straight, you let out a sigh as you turned your head to look at him. "My landlord raised my rent again… I'm thinking about how I'm gonna pay rent this month. I'm gonna be a few hundred bucks short," you told him.

Oh.

Gripping the wheel a little tighter, Logan couldn't help himself from asking, "You tellin' me you're quittin'?"

He couldn't blame you, he thought he paid you a fair wage, but it seemed that everything had gotten more and more expensive lately. The rides had been few and far between and the tank of gas didn't take him as far anymore. The weekends kept him afloat, along with bachelor and bachelorette parties, prom nights, and knuckleheaded business men too fancy to drive a regular cab to the airport. Had it not been for Charles' medication he'd give you a raise. Logan wasn't stupid, he knew he couldn't do this without you.

"No," you shook your head, "I wouldn't do that to Charles."

But you'd do it to me, Logan thought and let the words unsaid hang in the air between you as he pulled onto the dirt road leading to the smelting plant.

"I'll figure something out," you said, before a smirk teased over your face, that smile breaking forth the old you hidden behind this morning's melancholia. "Maybe I should start an Only Fans or something," you laughed.

"What's that?" Logan grunted, too focused on keeping his foot soft on the brake and avoiding the potholes to hear your joking lilt.

"Only Fans?" you questioned, one eyebrow raised in surprise before your eyes softened at the corners. "It's a social media platform for porn," you explained, "It's subscription based so you make an account and people pay a monthly subscription to see your content."

Porn?

Slowing down to a stop outside the gate, Logan put the limousine in park, the engine still humming.

"And how's that gonna help you pay rent?" Logan wondered, turning slightly in his seat to finally get a good look at you.

You were quiet for a second, eyes searching his face before the sound of a distant train had you looking away, almost bashful. "It's ridiculous," you muttered, "I don't have anyone to do it with anyway."

Before Logan could cough up an answer your hand found the passenger door, and a gust of sharp desert air seeped in. "I'll figure out the rent somehow… Sleep well, Logan," you told him, a wistful smile coating your features, before you climbed out the limousine and opened the gate. His eyes stayed glued to you as he drove past you, flicking to watch you close the gate after him in the rearview mirror. When you headed for the tank without your usual wave, a frown pulled at his face.

Stepping out of the limousine, Logan watched you leave, watched the way your hips swayed with new interest. Reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, he found his flask – desperate to quench this fresh thirst with the last sip of burning alcohol, smoothing his dry throat.

The cold coffee left a brown splatter as he discarded it; the coffee seeped into the sand. Inside the steeled walls he now called 'home' reeked of dust, like stepping into an antique shop, and Logan couldn't hold back his cough. Walking deeper into the plant with heavy steps, the old trinkets and equipment told a story of time passed.

So much time had passed.

Hanging his suit jacket over the back of one of the chairs Logan started working the small buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before tossing it gently over the ironing board. Food would have to wait, he already knew the fridge wasn't stocked. Instead, he found the bottle of whiskey he'd left on the table, grabbing it by the neck before he took a large swig.

The whiskey helped, at least that's what he told himself, but his senses never dulled enough and the weight never got any easier. Sitting down heavy on the bed, Logan drank long and hard, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from trailing to you and what you’d muttered. I don't have anyone to do it with anyway.

What was it you'd called it? Just Fans? No, that wasn't right… Only Fans.

Logan remembered the first tape he ever saw; it had been the 70s, a summer in California, at some party he'd been forced to by a beautiful woman. The tape had been projected onto a wall in the living room, like background noise no one paid attention to. It had been lewd and obnoxious, but no one had seemed to mind, high as kites and drunk as skunks. Soon, Logan hadn't minded either, whisking away the woman to make his own private porn in one of the bedrooms.

Behind the woven fabric of his slacks, his cock twitched at the thought, but it wasn't the porn playing at the party, or the memory of the woman he'd fucked that filled his mind, it was you.

It was innocent at first; the way your front teeth nibbled on your bottom lip as you pondered your next move in a game of chess opposite Charles, how your eyes sparkled under the low streetlights as he drove you home at the end of the day, and how your perfume had filled the limousine and clung to his skin that one time you'd left your jacket in the passenger seat. His hand came down to rub over the growing bulge in his pants, soothing the growing ache with a hard press, pulling a rumbling moan from his chest.

Soon the innocent memories of you turned to filth. Logan's mind filled with images of you underneath him, his cock buried balls deep in your wet cunt as you withered for him. Then, as quickly as the first image had come, another took its place: of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed with his cock, gagging around him and swallowing him down like a good girl.

With each rubbing press to his cock, Logan couldn't shake the rolling images of you. It was wrong, never had he thought about you like that, never had he wanted to think of you like that, but once he'd started, he couldn't stop.

Working his fingers, it was almost instinctual as they moved to undo the button of his pants. His hand dug into his front, large hand palming himself with hard presses, as his cock hardened. Trailing his fingers upwards, stopping right above the elastic band of his underwear, his hand so close to wrapping around himself, a hint of shame pulled him out of the gutter.

He shouldn’t think about you like that.

Pulling away, like he'd burnt his hand, Logan let out a deep grumbling sigh. Leaning back on both hands, he let his head fall back as he squeezed his eyes shut. In his pants his cock throbbed with need. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman, so long since he'd felt the velvet walls of a tight cunt wrapped around him, too long since he'd felt like he wasn't a monster, if only for a few blissful seconds.

Bringing the neck of the whiskey bottle to his mouth, Logan drowned his need in temporary numbness, focusing instead on how the warmth filled his chest and dulled every ache. Falling back with a heavy bounce, he nursed the bottle in the crook of his thick arm, letting his eyes fall shut.

Logan couldn't remember the last time he wasn't tired, couldn't remember when his body didn't ache with every move. His veins bled through with rust and alcohol, and he hoped the latter made the corrosion run smoother.

His eyes fluttered shut, and the same flashing images filled the darkness. Years of fighting, years of killing, all the people he'd lost. It was the same show every night, and every night it tore a piece of him away, of his joy.

The bottom of the whiskey bottle clanked sharply as it hit the floor and a cough got stuck in his throat. It ripped and jerked in his chest, and he keeled over himself, fighting against it. When his head hit the pillow again, his eyes didn't fall shut, they trailed the walls, found the holes of blinding daylight seeping in through the holes in the corrugated metal sheets, and his thoughts found you again.

Curiosity got the best of him, and a hand dug into the back pocket of his pants for his phone. The small icons and text blended together as the screen lit up his face. When Logan held the phone a little further away the screen only got blurrier. With an exasperated sigh, he sat up, his body protesting as he grabbed his suit jacket off the dining chair, digging into the inner pocket for his new glasses.

Slumping down in the chair, his glasses resting at the tip of his nose, he tapped at his phone. He rarely used the thing outside of work, but suddenly he tapped at something that made it speak to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't quite get that," his phone said.

"Hello?" Logan spoke back.

Again his phone lit up and the voice answered. "Hello, what can I help you with?"

"What is Only Fans?"

……..

Fitting a brittle leaf between your thumb and pointer finger, you studied Charles' plants. The table always looked a mess after he'd tended to them, dirt spilled onto the table and tools thrown haphazardly about. Cupping your hand, you brushed the dirt into your hand, and discarded it into a pot you thought needed it.

Flicking your wrist, you looked at the time again. It was getting late. Usually by this time, Logan would have you halfway home already. Resorting to cleaning up the tools, you decided to give him half an hour before you'd start looking for him. He never slept in, although you could clearly see he needed it.

Logan wasn't a man to show weakness, not to anybody, rather, he showed his teeth, barking and fighting against you or anyone who dared speak to him. It had intimidated you at first, and you'd held your tongue, afraid he'd bite your head off, but in time you'd come to realize that his gruff demeanor was just that, a façade.

Charles on the other hand, senile and more and more forgetful, was the opposite of his son. On good days he beat you at chess while he told you stories about 'the good ol' days'. His imagination was vast, telling stories about the X-Men like he knew them, like he'd been a part of them, and especially by nightfall his stories would become even wilder. He'd tell you about his 'abilities', how he could read minds. He'd tell stories about Logan too, tragic ones, that if it hadn't been for the stack of comics you'd found, you would've almost said they were true.

Finding the chair by Charles' bed, you watched him deep in sleep. A heaviness could be felt in your chest as you thought about how his good and lucid days had seemed to get fewer and fewer lately. You found yourself having the same conversations with him, and once again today, he didn't want to get out of bed, telling you his head hurt.

You wished you knew more of his condition, but Logan wouldn't tell you anything other than that Charles suffered from seizures, and if he didn't get his medication the consequences would be great. The way Logan had said it to you, his voice sharp and strict, it sounded serious, and in the year you'd taken care of Charles, you'd been diligent with his medication. Not once had you experienced a seizure with him.

Reaching over him, your palm found Charles' cheek. Stroking your hand lightly over his face, you felt the prickling stubble against your skin. His comment earlier about his head, had you worried. Logan usually supplied you with Charles' medication – from where you didn't know – there hadn't been any doctor's visits or health checks from what you could recall.

Maybe Logan didn't have insurance? It was your only explanation, a reason for why he'd found a more creative way of caring for his father.

In a way you respected it, hacked an unknowing crack in Logan’s harsh façade– he cared. Only respect didn’t keep you from wanting Logan to tell you more, to open up, but wringing out more than a grunt from him was difficult. Instead, you made sure to let him know when you were running low on the pills and injections, and usually by the next day he'd hand over a new bottle.

Stroking over Charles’ cheek, another chill of nervousness ran up your back where a worry tugged at your neck.

Yesterday, after a week had passed since you'd asked Logan for more medication. He’d told you not to worry, that he’d have the pills soon, but running so low you'd had to resort to rationing Charles' doses.

Pulling back your hand, your eyes found your watch again, but before you could register the time, Charles stirred beside you. Then, an excruciating blinding pain permeated through your body. It rang in your ears and had your body shaking in agony, but at the same time you couldn't move. You wanted to scream, let out the pain that froze you to the chair, but no noise came out. When your vision started to go foggy, you thought that this must be what dying was like, but never would you have thought dying would feel this painful.

Through the ringing in your ears, a heavy creak of the tank door could be heard– or was it a trick your brain played on you in your last moments? Like the broad figure moving closer, slowly, too slowly, like it walked through water. You couldn't see who it was, but you didn't have too. Surely, your brain showing you Logan in your last moments, must've been a trick. The figure hovered over Charles, maybe it feasted on him first, reaped his soul as an appetizer before it would have you.

And just as quickly as the pain had taken you, the pain stopped.

Heaving for breath, your body fell forward, it was like the air couldn't fill your lungs quick enough. Two large palms cupped your cheek, tilting your head to Logan's frowning face. If you didn't know better you thought he looked scared.

"You okay?" he barked, your head rolling in his hands, "Hey! Bub, look at me."

You found the strength to nod your head, but Logan seemed far from convinced. He swiped his thumb over your cupid's bow, a flash of red coating his thumb and his face turned to stone, his frown so deep it looked chiseled.

Then he moved with an uncharacteristic haste, hiking you up in his arms and carrying you out of the tank. Closing your eyes, you tried to put your brain back together the way it used to be, but everything felt scrambled. When your back hit the soft mattress of a bed, you finally opened them.

Over you, Logan's large form hovered. He said something to you, but you only registered his mouth moving, your eyes glued to his pink soft lips, and your vision cleared completely.

"Drink this," he ordered, shoving a glass of water in your hands, and just like that your hearing had snapped back. "'m gonna go check on Charles– don't fucking move."

With no energy left in your body, you wouldn't dream of it. Logan watched you take a careful sip, the water lukewarm, before he left you in what you finally realized was his bed. The first sip nourished your dry throat, like you’d walked for miles in the desert without tasting as much as a drop. Surging forward, you chugged the rest of the water before you fell back against his pillow, clutching the glass in the crook of your elbow.

The smell of him on his sheets overwhelmed your weakened mind; a deep heady smell with a warmth to it, woven through with the heaviness of man. It soothed your mushy muscles, helping release the tension in your body.

The time passed differently now, fast and slow at the same time, and after an eternity and a second Logan was back. The weight of him where he sat down at the edge of the bed, had your whole body tipping towards him. His large palm found your cheek again, the rough pads of his fingers soothing over the skin.

"You doin' okay?" he asked, his deep voice filtering through a hint of worry.

"W-what happened to him– to m-me?" you managed to croak out.

Logan's heavy hand didn't move away when the furrow between his eyebrows deepened, the one that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face.

"He had a seizure," he told you, like it was obvious, taking the glass of water from your hands,

He must've caught the way your face turned, the confusion that flitted across it, one that spelled 'seizures don't affect other people'.

"Listen," he started, drawing back his hand, "There’s no other way of explainin' it to you other than tellin' you that all those stories he's told you about him– about me… they're all true."

The frown that deepened over your face at his words, must've challenged the permanent one over Logan's face. "W-what? The stories about the X-Men?"

"Yes, the X-Men– Is he talkin' a hole through your head about anything else?"

"No, but… there aren't any more mutants."

"Not new ones,” he sighed, “But we're old, sweetheart– the last there is." His voice went quieter and quieter as he spoke, a hint of sadness eating the words, before his palm found your cheek again. "You see… Charles he's a very powerful mutant, and years ago he started a school for mutants–"

"–I know all of that already Logan– he told me," you cut him off, "I never believed him, I thought he was just confused– the stories they–"

"–I know, bub," this time he cut you off, but he let the next words linger on his tongue. Drawing back his hand, his eyes found the wall behind the bed. "I never meant for you to get hurt– it's my fault. If he gets his medication he's fine, but… you ain't the only one who's a few hundred dollars short– it's been a slow month."

Before you had a chance to reply, Logan rose on his feet. "The seizures messes with your brain, so get some rest. I'm gonna get his medication, and I'll wake ya in the mornin'." Logan didn't wait for you to protest before he grabbed the car keys off the table, and left you alone in his bed.

Outside the moon climbed the sky, and the new darkness, along with your scrambled brain, had your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

……..

"Wake up, sweetheart."

Logan's gruff voice pulled you from a dreamless sleep; a sleep like you'd just closed your eyes. Blinking, your heavy eyelids pulled shut just as quickly as you'd opened them, leaving you with a snapshot of Logan's body hovering over you. You hummed, sleep coating your brain, while your body felt like you'd put it through the wringer at the gym.

"It's mornin'."

You tried again, blinking your eyes open with more success. Logan's black suit jacket was nowhere to be seen, instead he adorned a white tank top. Letting your gaze roll over him, you noticed the scars etched into his skin, so many scattered up and down his strong arms, and suddenly the memories of last night filtered back into your brain.

"Logan," you whispered so low even you weren't sure you’d heard it.

"I'm takin' you home, alright? I'll watch him today," he told you.

When Logan told you something, he meant it. Leaving you in his bed, it was like a replay of last night as he grabbed the car keys and black suit jacket off the table.

Slowly, you sat up and leaned on your elbows, letting the world spin for a minute. Your clothes from yesterday clung to your skin, and you felt both cold and sweaty as you got out of bed.

With each step you took every muscle ached, but somehow you managed to walk out the door. The burning light of the morning sun blinded you, and with one hand raised you shielded your eyes from the harshness while you walked closer to the humming impatient motor of Logan's limousine. Just as you'd sunk into the leather seat and managed to shut the door behind you, Logan stepped on the gas, and the smelting plant vanished in the rearview window.

When you'd finally left the dirt road behind and hit the highway, you cracked the window ever so slightly – the morning air blowing away the last of your tiredness. The closer you got to the city, the more your stomach growled. You hadn't had a thing to eat since lunch yesterday, the aftermath of Charles’ seizure knocking you out before dinner– you needed something to eat.

"Can we stop here?" you asked and pointed at a sign advertising a diner off the next exit.

"I'm drivin' you home," Logan replied, his eyes glued to the road.

"Logan, please, I'm starving," you begged with a pout.

A beat passed, his fingers tapping over the wheel as he weighed his options, then his eyes found yours where they lingered. Staring back, you didn't know what to do. Logan wasn't a man that said yes, he liked things done his way. You bit down on your bottom lip, showing off your front teeth like a silent 'please' written over your face, and Logan huffed.

The loud buzz of conversation hit you first when you stepped into the packed diner, Logan in tow. Waiters ran back and forth between the booths lining the windows, taking breakfast orders and pouring coffee, and at the sound of the bell as the door swung shut behind you, one of them looked up at you.

"Seat yourselves," she said with a smile as golden as the syrup poured over hotcakes, "I'll be with you in a jiffy."

Walking deeper into the diner, you found an empty booth in a quiet corner. Logan seemed pleased, never too keen on people, and after what you'd come to know after last night, you could understand his hesitation.

Logan. The Wolverine.

You remembered the comics from when you were a kid, remembered this one kid in your class in elementary school that had been obsessed with them, reading every issue and Wolverine had been his favorite. He was a scientist now, last you heard, and here you sat opposite the comic character himself.

"Mornin', what can I get you guys?" the waitress asked, pulling up to your table.

"Um," you grabbed at the laminated menu in front of you, your eyes scanning over the breakfast items. Everything looked good, your stomach growling loud as you took in the pictures, but then again you didn't think you'd ever been this hungry before.

"Just coffee f'me, ma'am," Logan grunted.

"Could I get a stack of the blueberry pancakes… and a coffee for me too, please?" you ordered, watching the waitress with the name tag 'Stacy' write down your order.

"That'll be all for you guys this morning?" she smiled.

"Yes, thank you," you returned her smile.

"Alright, I'll be back in a second with your coffees."

While you waited for your pancakes, Logan wasn't much company. He sipped his coffee, black and piping hot, as he leaned against the corner of the booth, legs spread wide, watching the people coming and going. In the silence between you, you decided to study him while you sipped your own coffee. He must've felt your gaze over him, from the way he clenched his jaw, but he never turned his head to look at you, instead he let you look.

When your pancakes finally arrived, you dug in immediately. Fresh, hot and deliciously pillow-y and soft, it was the best thing you'd had in a while. The blueberries weren't too sweet, cutting through the sweetness of the pancakes with a tangy taste, while the bitter taste of your coffee woke you up and filled you with new energy.

"So," Logan suddenly spoke up, almost making the piece of pancake you were chewing on go down the wrong pipe. "How you feelin'?"

"Like I'm having the worst hangover in human history," you joked, "But better now after some food and caffeine."

Logan only hummed, turning his head back to people watching as you ate your pancakes. His silence had a frown work over your features when you placed your knife and fork down to sip on your coffee. He'd been so quiet all morning, which in truth wasn't new, but there was something about him now, something about the way his scowl dug a little deeper into his skin that had you asking:

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothin'," he answered, curt and to the point.

"Clearly it's something," you pried with a tilt of your head.

Another beat passed, before he leaned forward, a cough getting stuck in his throat. It sounded worse than it was, he'd told you once. So, you sipped your coffee, your eyes flitting away like you needed to give him privacy.

"I've been thinkin' about your proposal," he finally said, and you felt your eyebrows pull together in a frown.

"Wait?" your eyes found his, "What proposal?"

"About that subscription thing– the porn," he waved his hand, and leaned back again.

"Only Fans?" you asked, keeping your voice low, "It was just a joke, Logan."

"Well, maybe it's an idea for the both of us. I need money for Charles' medication, and you need money for rent– it'll just be us earnin' a little extra on the side, a win-win situation."

Letting his words sink in, you mulled over his idea in your brain. It wasn't like you weren't attracted to Logan, in truth, you'd wanted him to fuck you for a while now, but it had only been a fantasy, one to conjure forth late at night when you slipped your hand into your panties. To have it become a reality, served up by Logan himself on a silver platter, you'd never imagined.

How could you say no?

"Okay," you said, your voice breathy as what you'd just agreed to settled in your stomach. Having a little more cash in your account every month wouldn't hurt, and getting dick regularly sounded just as nice, it had been too long. "I'm in."

Logan only replied with a curt nod accompanied by an approving grunt, "Now eat your pancakes so we can get goin'."

………

"Cold feet?"

With the limousine parked outside your apartment building, a week's worth of anticipation came to a head. You and Logan hadn't really talked much in the days passed since the diner; Logan's main interest more in you feeling better after experiencing Charles' powers for the first time. He'd let you have a few days off, to heal up, to which you'd taken the opportunity to do some research and set up an Only Fans profile. Currently it was blank, but tonight that would change.

"No," you shook your head, telling true. "You?" you asked, turning in your seat to face Logan.

Logan eyes darted across your face. He never looked at you like that, and for a moment the oddity of the situation, of what you were about to do, settled in your stomach.

"No," Logan finally decided, and reached for the door handle, “Let’s get it over with before it gets too late.”

At his movement, you reached forward and grabbed his forearm, "Wait!"

With a grunt, Logan turned. "What?" he asked, his eyes settling on you with an eyebrow raised.

"I-I have an idea," you told him, and you didn't know why you stumbled over your words. With your hand still wrapped around his arm, his eyes fell to your touch, lingering before they found yours again.

"I was thinking–" you started, retracing your hand, "Well actually… I just restarted taking birth control and I wanted to settle into it before we have sex, so I thought maybe– if you want to of course," you rambled.

"Spit it out, bub, I ain't got all night," Logan cut you off.

"I thought maybe I could suck you off– here in the limo," you 'spat' out your suggestion, your front teeth immediately coming down to bully your bottom lip.

"You want to suck my cock… here?" he repeated. Leaning back in his seat, you didn't know if he spread his legs on purpose, or if he unconsciously drew your eyes to the bulge hidden behind his slacks.

"Yeah, I mean…" you shrugged, "I thought it could be hot? Like something that people would want to see?"

"Right," Logan hummed, reminded of the invisible audience, and reached for the key in the ignition.

Leaving your apartment building in the rearview mirror, Logan searched for a more secluded place to park. The windows in the back of the limousine were tinted, impossible to look into, but you didn't want to take the risk of getting caught. After finding an empty parking lot, backing up and occupying a more private space in the back corner, Logan guided you around the limousine with a hand resting gently over the small of your back. Climbing into the back with you, his broad form filled the space.

Inside, he'd turned on the lights, the colors slowly fading in and out and casting soft shadows across his features. The leather creaked as he sat down, his spread legs already inviting you to slot between. A fleeting feeling of nervousness tickled in your tummy, the reality of what you were about to do washing over you like a wave on a stormy ocean.

Logan watched you from his seat, a picture of sin in his suit, as he slipped his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and fished out his glasses. His jacket fit snugly over his wide shoulders and he'd undone the top buttons where you could glimpse curling chest hair. The way he looked at you through the glasses, eyes dark and curious, had a warmth of arousal starting to pool in the core of yourself.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, "I was thinking I could set my phone up here–" you pointed to the space between the leather seats and the window. "And then you could use your phone and film me?"

After a little bit of fiddling to get your phone to stay upright, you turned to Logan, your phone capturing your slow walk towards him. He sat with his legs spread wide, his large palms resting on either side of his thighs. When you reached for the hem of your shirt, his finger twitched, digging into the leather, and a toothy smile spread over your features.

Tossing your shirt you sunk to your knees and slotted between his legs. Looking up at him through your lashes, you held his gaze as you sat pretty for him, fanning out the skirt you'd worn specifically for today. He reached for his phone and pressed record when you curled your hands behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra, capturing your bare chest.

The air nipped at your exposed skin, making goosebumps ripple over your skin. Looking up at Logan, his eyes burned against your skin where he took in your breasts, his eyes glided over your bare skin for the first time and soothed out the bubbling nerves that had been brewing. When your eyes caught on the tent growing in his pants, you had to restrain yourself from surging forward, your mouth already watering at the thought of tasting him for the first time – of your wet dreams becoming a reality.

"S'pretty," he murmured, voice deep and guttural, soaked in arousal.

He cupped your cheek gently, the rough pad of his thumb skating over your skin bringing with it a calming safety. Your eyelashes fluttered as you tilted your head into his hand, desperate to feel more of the weathered skin of his hand against your body.

"Y'sure you want this, sweetheart?" he asked.

Opening your eyes, you held his gaze. "Yes, please," you nodded in his large palm, "It's the only thing I've thought about all day." And it was the truth.

"Shit, baby," he groaned in response, dragging his hand down your neck to rest heavy over the top of your breasts. "S'that so?"

Gathering your hands in your lap, you nodded slowly, your teeth caught on your bottom lip as his hand brushed over your right breast. "Thought of how you'd taste," you confessed, the phone in his hand forgotten as you focused entirely on Logan.

"Yeah?" he prompted. One knuckle brushed over your hardened nipples, pulling a quiet whimper from you– pleased he leaned back, "Take off my belt, then."

Bouncing on your knees, you leaned forward on his command, and pulled the leather belt from its loops. You did it slowly, tilting your head upwards to catch his eyes through the glasses. He helped you with the zipper, making you watch as he dragged it down.

With your eyes fixed on his hand you noticed three barely healed scars between every knuckle, and you remembered who Logan really was. The Wolverine. He caught you looking, and his hand tightened into a fist, tightening it for a beat before he relaxed it over his thigh. Leaning forward, you placed a soft kiss over his knuckles, and his hand dug into his thigh.

"Sweetheart," he breathed out, his voice strained.

In the depths of your chest you felt a pinch, a tiny stab in your heart that felt too real, too personal for what you were about to do. Willing it away, you leaned back on your ankles instead, your hands dipping into the waistband of his pants to pull down his slacks. Lifting his hips to help you ease them down, a quiet grunt escaped him, a deep sound that traveled down your spine and pooled in your core.

Behind the soft cotton of his underwear the firm hard line of his cock strained against the fabric. The sight of him, large and heavy, and hidden, had your eyes widening with lust, and a slickness soiling the gusset of your panties.

"You want my cock, don't you sweetheart?" he coaxed, his free hand finding your jaw where he cupped it, squeezing your cheeks together.

"Y-yes," you breathed out, your smile straining against his grip before you dropped your mouth open, showing him your tongue.

"There you go, baby– good girl," he praised, pressing his thumb down on your tongue and rubbing the saliva around. A soft moan caught in your throat at the praise, and behind the camera Logan's eyes darkened at his new discovery.

Wrapping both your hands around his wrist, you held his hand in place as you closed your lips around him. Slowly, you moved your head, up and down, up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on his thumb like you would his cock. Logan's eyes were intense behind his glasses, his jaw clenching tight while he stared into your own.

"Such a filthy little thing f'me– so desperate for my cock down your throat you'll suck anything, ain't that right?"

A choked moan escaped you; they way he talked to you adding fuel to the fire in your core. Between the seam of your cunt you ached, wet arousal dripping into your soiled panties. He must've watched the way you melted for him, your brain turning to mush in front of him, because when he pulled his hand away, he laughed. A deep guttural thing from the depth of his chest.

"C'mon little angel," he tapped at your cheek, "Let's put you out of your misery."

Clouded in arousal, your brain stalled at the nickname, and you felt a new gush of arousal spill between the seam of your cunt. Logan's nostrils flared and a wild darkness settled over his face.

Shifting on your knees, you leaned forward to palm him through his underwear. Making sure to flick your eyes up at him (and the camera), you dragged your finger up and down gently, seductively, before you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his clothed length. Above you, Logan sucked in a breath, his free hand coming down to pet your head and press your face firmly against his bulge.

You couldn't help but breathe him in. Breathe in the heady deep scent of man, cheap whiskey and cigars – the unique scent of Logan. When you let out the softest little sigh, you felt him twitch against you, and quickly his hand on your head traveled down to the back of your neck where he pulled you back with a harsh yank.

You yelped.

"No more teasin'–" he reprimanded and let go of you, "Be a good little angel and make me come."

Logan leaned back into the leather, his body relaxed and inviting with one hand still occupied with filming you. Watching the deep furrow forming between his brows, and the way his eyes burned your face through his glasses, you could tell he wanted to take control, make you do what he wanted.

With a curling smile, knowing full and well you had the upper hand with one of his hands occupied, you slipped your eager hands into the elastic waistband of his underwear and tugged.

A wild and wiry patch of graying hair met you first, and you felt a flock of eagerness flutter in your stomach. Tugging the fabric down slowly, you made a show of revealing just an inch at a time. When you finally reached the end of him, you felt the wet head of him graze your cheek, leaving a streak of precum, as it sprung free.

His hard cock bopped heavily in front your face, and you felt your eyes widen at his size. He was big. The hefty length of him cushioned against his balls hanging heavy over the band of his underwear. Reaching a shaky hand forward you took him in your hand for the first time and familiarized yourself with the thick weight of him. With your other hand you traced the thick veins that lined the girth of him, memorizing every ridge and freckle before coming up to thumb at the fat tip where a pearl of wetness beaded.

A mix of awe and uncertainty pooled in your chest. How in the hell were you gonna fit all of him down your throat?

"'s okay, angel," he cooed, his heavy hand back to stroke over your head. His touch soothed you, a rhythmic warmth that shed all your insecurities.

With a content sigh you leaned forward and parted your lips to press a soft kiss to the leaking tip, pulling a "There you go, good girl, open your mouth f'me," from Logan. Urged on by his praise, you got a little braver. Flattening your tongue against him you started with a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, your tongue dipping into the slit to taste him in earnest.

Above you, a groan rumbled in Logan's chest, a sound that had you eagerly taking more of him in your mouth. Suckling carefully on the fat tip, you let your tongue tease the underside of him, humming in content when you felt him harden even more in your hands.

Letting the excess spit run down the length of him, it pooled over your hands where they struggled to wrap around the thick girth. Slick sounds came from your hands when you started to move them over the soft skin, coating him fully in your saliva with every tug.

"Shit, bub, y'look so fuckin' good around my cock," Logan's voice vibrated from his chest, "But y'can take it deeper, can't you? Take that big cock down your throat?"

Well, you would certainly try.

Your knees dug into the carpeted floor of the limousine, pressing a deep pattern into your skin. Popping off his cock, you sat up a little more and shifted your weight. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were reminded of the camera pointed at you. Looking straight down the barrel of his phone you sunk down further on his cock.

Dropping your jaw, you felt your lips stretch as his hefty cock filled your throat. All too quickly the head of him kissed the back of your throat and you had to fight your gag reflex. Pulling off with a gasp, your eyes widened as you looked up at him.

"It's so big," you told him, both of your slicked hands jerking him in a slow rhythm.

"I know, angel," he cooed, his thumb running over your cheek. Leaning forward again, you placed a soft kiss to the fat head, and he hissed, "Too big f'you?"

"No," you shook your head, smearing the head from one corner of your mouth to the other, spreading the precum leaking onto your lips, and humming at the taste of him. "It's perfect– taste so perfect," you said through a pillowy kiss to the head.

With a buck of his hips, he pushed back into your eager mouth, slipping the fat head through your swollen lips and into your flexed throat, "That's it– right where it belongs, huh?"

Fitting him as deep as you could down your throat you felt dizzy with desire, an almost overwhelming feeling; the smell of him so close, how he filled your mouth and made your jaw ache. When your nose pressed into the grayed patch of wiry hair at the base of his cock, you spluttered with need, spit soaking the length of him as you came off him with a cough.

In an instance, Logan was on you, his free hand petting your cheek as he searched your eyes, "You okay?" I wouldn't be until after, when you edited the video that you'd realize he'd dropped the phone, focusing only on you in that moment.

"Yes," you replied, looking into his eyes with a toothy smile, "I want more– I want your cum."

"Fuck," he hissed, letting go of your cheek and leaning back into the leather seat, pointing his phone at you, "Go on."

Fitting him back down your throat again, you got lost in it as you found a rhythm. With a hand stationed at the base, you bobbed your head, letting your tongue dance over the length. More saliva dripped down and pooled over your hand, slicking up his pubes. It was messy, and hot, sticky and wet. Above you, Logan muttered praises between grunts and moans, encouraging you to take him deeper and deeper.

Feeling your throat loosen with every bob of your head, you pushed down and swallowed around him. Your eyelashes fluttered as you gagged and coughed, tears starting to prickle from your eyes, but you were determined to please him– to make him feel good.

When his hand came down to wrap around your throat, his thumb skating over your neck to feel himself, your eyes rolled back in your head in pleasure – the sight of you making Logan let out a deep growl. He kept the hand clasped around your throat as he started to buck his hips, feeding you his cock in small lazy thrusts.

"Right there, angel, so fuckin' good f'me… my good girl– choke on it," he mumbled.

You hummed around him at the praise, the vibrations pulling another deep moan from him. Fucking your face, bubbling spit trickled out the corner of your lips, soaking him and the coarse hair on his balls where they slapped heavy against your chin. Slipping a hand between your thighs, you couldn't help but touch yourself through your underwear – the white cotton translucent and drenched with your arousal.

Chasing his high, Logan's thrusts started to come quicker. More and more saliva overflowed, dripping down your bare chest and slicking you up in depravity. The grip Logan had around his phone was lazy, but he made sure to capture the way the shifting colors of the low limousine light gleamed over your slicked up chest.

"Such a good fuckin' throat–" he growled, squeezing around your throat as he pushed himself as deep as he could. Your nose brushed the wiry patch of his pubic hair, and you felt yourself start to gag around him as your lungs squeezed and throat tightened. He kept you down as you spluttered and swallowed around the length of him, and when the edges of the world started to blur he pulled you off with a jerk.

Gasping for air and filling your lungs with lost breaths, the hand Logan had wrapped around your neck was now pushing your own hand away to wrap around himself. The tears on your cheek mixed with the strings of saliva on your chin, as you looked up at him through fluttering lashes. Watching him stroke his cock, your eyes widened with interest as you shifted on your knees to sit up straighter.

His hard cock pulsated and throbbed with need as he stroked. Up and down you watched his hand; watched how beads of precum drooled over his fingers, mixing with your saliva before it dripped down onto your chest. A primal feeling came over you – an urge so strong to taste him come undone and claim you as his.

"Please," you begged, the fat head ghosting against your lips with every jerk, "come for me, please– wanna taste you so badly."

Logan's grunts and growls grew deeper and wilder as he stroked himself faster. "Look at me, angel," he ordered, and when your eyes locked with his, combined with a final hard stroke, he aimed the wet tip towards your face and came hard.

The first pump of his sticky warm seed, made you flinch before a smile widened and you leaned closer. Dropping your mouth open, he came all over your face, coating your cheeks, your nose, and forehead. Thumbing at the tip, he aimed at your waiting mouth to squeeze out the last few drops, and he finally let you taste him.

Wrapping your lips around the head, you suckled around him through content hums. You were covered in his cum, claimed, feeling the sticky seed drip down the bridge of your nose. You loved the way he tasted, salty and bitter, like Logan.

When the feeling of your tongue dancing over his sensitive head became too much, he pulled away with a hiss. His phone was still aimed at your face, and a little more clear-headed he filmed the aftermath of his orgasm closer.

"Even prettier with my cum on your face, angel," he said, letting his finger drag over your skin to collect his cum.

Pretty.

"Thank you," you whispered, your throat hoarse as he fed you his cum.

You hummed around his finger as he cleaned you up, making sure not a single drop would go to waste, and when he was pleased with his work after you'd shown him your empty tongue, he cupped your cheek.

"Good little angel," he told you with a pad, and pressed the stop button on his phone.

Back at your apartment the buzz of the excitement of the night lingered as you replayed the scene on your computer. You thought about Logan, about where he was and who might sit in the seat where you'd sucked him off only hours earlier. You thought about how filthy his mouth had been, and how much it had turned you on. And lastly, you thought about how you couldn't wait to see him again, and for him to finally fuck you.

Editing the video together, the last thing you did before you fell asleep was upload. Logan had taken a photo of your hand over his clothed cock before he'd left you, a picture that was now set as your profile picture. All tuckered out, you closed your computer and fell back against your pillows, dreaming of the smell of leather and cheap whiskey.

James & Angel ✨👼 📍 Texas subscribers: 15,478

1 post: "cute girl gives older limousine driver a sloppy blowjob"

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hopefully this was okay? i have concepts of a part 2 lol so please don't ask for it. instead, a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and/or tell me what you'd comment under james' & angel's first video! my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

#logan howlett #logan james howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #james logan howlett x reader #x men fanfic #old man!logan #old man!logan x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #old man!logan smut #hugh jackman #x-men smut #*writing

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nanivinsmoke · 4 months ago

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✩ Love After War

♪ please forgive me, baby…..don't you love it when we fight?♪

✩ logan 'wolverine’ howlett x mutant!fem reader

✩ tags: a little angst, cursing, mentions of blood, makeup sex, degrading, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, squirting, clawing kink (don’t judge me), mentions of breeding, face sitting, sadism, etc….

✩ note: had deadpool 3 wolverine in mind when making this, i love older men. listen to the song for added vibes

you slammed your glass down on the bar top, cracking it, causing your friends and him to look over at you. you could feel his deep brown eyes scan your face, and you quickly met them; eyes holding nothing but anger.

“uh oh, looks like someone’s on their period! anyone have a tampon?” wade joked, hoping to ease some tension, but you weren’t in the mood for him, not now.

“shut the fuck up wade!” there was silence but everyone’s face said it all. it was unlike you to curse and yell at wade, usually you would joke with him or egg him on; but tonight was different. you were pissed. pissed at logan.

you turned to look at the male, whom downed his shot of whiskey like it was water.

“how can you sit here, celebrating like you didn’t just try to sacrifice yourself and leave me behind?” your voice cracked at the end, making his hazel eyes widened. it had dawned on him that he had hurt you, he was going to sacrifice himself to save this universe; which would ultimately leavethe only person who cared about him all alone to reap in their sorrows.

he said nothing and got up from his bar stool, digging into his suit and throwing out a wad of cash on the mahogany counter top; before reaching over to grab your hand—leading you out of the bar.

“taking you home.” he muttered, pushing the bar’s wooden door open which slammed behind the both of you. wade was the first one to turn and speak, “oh those two are about to fuck hard!”

using his claws to unlock a random car, the two of you hopped in; with him in the driver seat and you in the passenger—silence simmering between the two of you. there was nothing more for you to say, you said everything, now the cards were on his lap.

on the way up to your apartment, you gave him the cold shoulder—your back towards him and he to notice to it. he couldn’t help his honey colored eyes from dropping down to your plump ass; loving the way the leather clung to your body. he watched your ass sway and switch with each stride you took as the two of you entered your apartment.

you kicked off your shoes and turned to look at him, still pissed off. how could he not say anything? didn’t he love you?

“so you’re just going to stand there? and—“ you were cut off as the mutant pressed his lips against your’s; the scruffiness of his mustache scratching your top lip while his musky scent flooded your nose, making you melt into the kiss. he held the back of your head, holding you while your body started to get weak—his tongue dominating yours once he slipped it in. the taste of the whiskey he downed minutes ago, warmed up your mouth.

and when he pulled away, you were breathless, “im sorry, I wasn’t considering how you felt in that moment—“ you held a finger up to his lip, silencing him. you were angry, that was a fact, but the way he just kissed you; had you feeling another emotion—one that surpassed the anger.

“you’re about to make it up to me, right now.” you slowly stripped in front of him, your eyes glued to his as you stepped out of your suit—tossing it somewhere across the room—before you reached behind you to undo your bra.

he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to put his hands all over you, have you say his name over and over again; he had to fuck you. logan sauntered over to you and pulled you into another kiss, this one more rougher than the last. in an instant he had you hoisted up into the air, your legs wrapped around his waist as he led you over to your black plush couch—siting down while you straddled him.

his huge calloused hands trailed all over you body, running up and down your smooth back; before finally resting on your ass. you could feel hard he was underneath his suit and that’s when you realized he was still clothed. you were beyond impatient and he knew it, he could smell how bad you wanted him; so he was going to give you exactly what you needed.

he held onto you as he laid down on your couch, pulling you by your hips, onto his face—he used his teeth to tear your panties aside; giving him full access to your needy cunt. you let out moan as he lapped up your juices, savoring your delectable flavor like he was a dog who had just gotten some water.

his mustache tickled your clit in the right way, mraking you slowly grind your hips against his face while you hands clutched your tender breasts. his tongue worked in overdrive, swirling your swollen bud against it; before he began to suck on it. your hands dropped from your breasts and onto his soft brown locks; gripping it tightly while your rode his face.

“fuck….gonna—shit—logan!” you exclaimed, orgasm hitting you hard while he continued to eat you out. your body was hot and your legs tightened around his head, before loosening as he pulled you off of his face. he gripped your neck and smashed his lips onto yours, your tongue immediately falling into his mouth—your juices sweet on your tongue.

using your powers you ripped off his yellow and blue hero suit, unable to take it any longer. you needed him inside you now.

“please lo….fuck me hard~” you begged, hand immediately griping his fat leaky tip—causing the older male to suck in some air. he was quick, pulling you onto his lap and pushing his leaky head to your sodden entrance; stretching you out to fit his cock and his cock only.

you grip his shoulders, bracing yourself as pushed himself all the way inside of you. “logan…!” you whined, eyes fluttering shut once he filled you up; slowly rocking his hips to get you used to his size. he gritted his teeth and kept one hand on the top of your ass; keeping you in place.

“you can take it, right doll?” his words made your cunt flutter and you nodded your head, moving your hips to match his rhythm—which made his dick rub against your spot. he was so big and the more you moved, the more you were getting addicted to him. his scent, the way he would grunt from time to time and how perfect he fit inside you—everything about this man drove you insane. no wonder you fell in love with him.

you were coming undone by the second and it was driving logan feral. he watched as your movements became faster, your noises becoming louder and you throwing your head back—it fueled him, he needed to break you. logan pushed your back down, making your torso meet his chest—closing the space between the two of you—before he proceeded to slide down and bringing his hips upwards, to pound you.

your eyes shot open from the impact and as you opened your mouth to speak, only whines came out. this is exactly what you wanted—no this is what you needed. you couldn’t help, but to bring your head up and kiss him. after all, he was fucking you so good.

“that’s it….take it like the slut that you are~” he praised once you pulled away, his hips still pistoning ferociously in and out of your cunt. everything about this was nasty, the sounds you and your bodies were making and how he was fucking you—had you cumming for the second time tonight.

“that’s my girl. cum all over it,” his voice deep in your ear while your orgasm shot through you. you felt like you were reaching nirvana and you were loving it.

logan slowed down his stroke, giving you a moment to calm down, however it gave you the opportunity to take control. you sat up and gripped his hair in a tight fist, catching him by surprise before you repeatedly moved your lower half up and down on his hard cock. due to the pain he received, his claws unsheathed, and it made you even wetter as an idea popped up into your nasty little head.

“fuck!” he growled, watching as you moved like a bunny, taking every single inch he had. “put them inside of me, lo~” you moaned, tugging on his hair and keeping eye contact with him.

he rose an eyebrow and chuckled, “not gonna happen, bub.” you whined and pulled on his hair some more, slowing down your movements as well.

“please…you know i deserve it—shit, im a big girl. i can take it” he stared at you with low lidded eyes, loving how sexy you looked on top of him. the way your body glistened with sweat and illuminated from the moonlight that shone through your apartment’s window; helped him realize something. he was a fool for trying to sacrifice himself and leave you all alone.

“alright, princess. you can take it, right?.” he didn’t hesitate to stick his claws into yours sides, causing you to gasp and pull his hair some more. it felt like you were being pierced with fire and you could feel the blood trickle out of you. but, you weren’t worried not bit. you were a mutant after all, your regeneration factor kicked in seconds after.

you looked down at him and smiled, a euphoric feeling taking over your body—you were going to cum once more; draining him in the process. he couldn’t help but chuckle, “crazy bitch.”

he kept his claws in place while you grinding your hips in steady pace, making him rub against that soft spongy spot. you were cumming, the stimulation from his cock and his claws were going to make you cum—hard.

“cumming! cumming so hard for you~” you whined, ass clapping against his pelvis while you started to bounce. logan grunted and pushed his hips upwards, halting your movements as you came—a clear stream of liquid shot out of you; shocking him.

“did you just squirt, princess?” his voice was panty wetting deep when he spoke and you let out a moan in response. he stuck his claws in deeper and began to pound you you, catching you off guard and making you scream. he closed his beautiful eyes and let out a primal growl, emptying his load into you with a few more pumps. the two of you stayed like that, his cock twitching while he panted your walls milky white.

he opened his eyes and pressed his lips against yours, your lips intwining with one another, before he parted.

“god I love it when we fight. im never leaving you, i promise doll.”

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan smut #xmen #xmen logan #xmen wolverine #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett x you #logan howlett xmen #logan wolverine #old man logan #deadpool

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easycashforcars · 2 years ago

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shybluebirdninja · 3 months ago

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Driver's Seat

Summary: With no cash to pay your Uber driver, Logan, you boldly offer a blowjob instead.

Pairing : Uber-driver!Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Note : smut, blowjob

The city lights flashed by as the Uber rolled down the streets, the low rumble of the engine mingling with the late-night tunes spilling from the speakers. You were sinking into the plush leather seat, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through you after a wild night out. You glanced over at the driver, Logan, his rugged silhouette framed by the glow of the dashboard. His grey, tousled hair and scruff hinted at a man who had seen it all, a hint of mischief lurking behind those intense blue eyes.

You pulled out your wallet, ready to settle up, but a sinking feeling hit you hard. You flipped through the empty slots, fingers trembling slightly. “Shit,” you muttered, realizing your cash was nowhere to be found. The only thing left was a couple of crumpled receipts. Panic bubbled up inside you, and you bit your lip, glancing up at Logan.

“Uh, so… about the fare…” you started, your cheeks heating up.

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that oh-so-sarcastic way of his. “You forgot your cash, huh? Classic move.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, well, I had a little too much fun tonight. I wasn’t exactly planning to be broke. Sir.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling, sending a shiver down your spine. “Welcome to my world, doll. So what now? You gonna sit there and look cute while I take you home for free?”

The playful glint in his eye made your heart race, and a sudden, crazy idea popped into your head. It was reckless and wild, but what the hell. You leaned forward, a smirk creeping onto your lips. “What if I have a different way to pay you?”

Logan turned to you, a mixture of amusement and intrigue flickering in his gaze. “I’m listening.”

With a deep breath, you decided to throw caution to the wind. “How about… a little favor? Something a bit more… intimate?”

His expression shifted, a low growl escaping his throat as he pulled the car over to the side of the road, the sudden halt making your heart race even faster. You could feel the air thickening with tension, every second stretching out as you met his gaze.

“Intimate, huh? You sure you can handle that?” He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, and the way he looked at you sent a wave of heat through your body.

“Oh, I think I can manage,” you replied, your voice sultry and daring. You leaned closer, the scent of leather and something distinctly Logan—woodsy, musky—invading your senses.

He didn’t move, just watched you, his blue eyes darkening with a mixture of interest and something deeper, something primal.

“Okay, then. Let’s see what you got”, while he shifted to the backseat.

With the adrenaline pumping, the car suddenly feeling way too small as you settled in close to him. “Sir, I promise you won’t regret this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Damn straight I won’t,” he replied, his tone low and gravelly, making your skin tingle.

You felt your heart pounding, the tension sizzling between you. Slowly, you let your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The fabric of his shirt felt rough against your fingertips, and the muscles beneath were solid and inviting. Logan’s breath hitched, and you could see his restraint slipping away, the predatory glint in his eyes igniting a fire in your belly.

“Now, I want you to take your time,” he said, his voice a growl that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Leaning in closer, you could see the flecks of his thick grey hair, the way his grey stubble caught the light. You ran your fingers through his grey hair, feeling the rough texture.

As you lowered your lips to his neck, you could taste the salty taste of his skin, a mix of sweat and something distinctly him. He inhaled sharply, a low rumble of pleasure escaping him. “Goddamn, that feels good,” he muttered, his hands gripping your waist as if holding onto a lifeline.

“Just wait,” you replied, your breath hot against his skin. You kissed your way down to his collarbone, each press of your lips making him tense and moan softly, that sound driving you wild. You could feel him responding to you, the way his body was coiling with anticipation.

“Damn, you really are somethin’ else,” he breathed, a hint of awe in his voice that made you smile.

“Yeah? Just wait till you see what else I can do,” you teased, your hands roaming over his muscular arms, the power underneath making your heart race even faster.

With a swift motion, you slid down, kneeling between his legs. Logan’s breath caught in his throat as you looked up at him, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers through your body. You could see the wildness in his eyes, a hunger that mirrored your own.

A low growl rumbling in his chest as you slowly reached for the zipper of his black pants, teasingly pulling it down. You could see the tension coiling in him, his muscles tightening, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the power you held in this moment.

As you revealed him, the sight made your mouth water. Logan was everything you had imagined—a lot of grey hair on his balls, his tip red, thick, hard, and ready for you. You leaned in closer, the scent of him overwhelming your senses. You could taste the salt on your lips, and it drove you wild with desire.

“Damn,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “You really know how to get a guy’s attention.”

“Just wait,” you teased again, taking your time as you let your tongue flick out to taste him, feeling his sharp intake of breath. He was salty, a flavor that was uniquely him, and you couldn’t get enough.

The heat radiating from his body making you feel alive.

“Don’t waste it,” he urged, his voice thick with lust.

With a wicked grin, you dove in deeper, your mouth enveloping him, swirling your tongue around his tip and savoring every moment. Logan’s hands tangled in your hair, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided you, urging you on. The sounds he made were music to your ears, a deep growl of pleasure that reverberated in your bones, fueling your desire.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “Keep going.”

You could feel his body responding to you, the way his hips bucked slightly, seeking more, his grey hair brush your face, his balls slapping your face. The world outside faded away as you focused on him, every flick of your tongue drawing more of those delicious sounds from him.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he groaned, and the compliment sent a rush of pride through you. You could feel him tightening, his breathing growing erratic, and you knew he was close.

“God, I’m gonna lose it if you keep that up,” he warned, his voice gravelly and deep. “You might wanna pull back a bit.”

“Not a chance,” you replied with a smirk, leaning in again. You swirled your tongue around him, feeling his body react beneath your touch. Every sound he made, every involuntary twitch of his muscles, only pushed you further into this delicious frenzy of desire.

“Fuck,” he growled, the tension in the air becoming almost unbearable. You could feel him getting closer, and the thrill of knowing you had him right where you wanted only fueled your own hunger.

His hands tightened in your hair, a low warning rumbling from his chest. “You keep that up, I’m gonna—” His words cut off as you took him deeper, your mouth moving faster, and the sound of his breathy gasps filled the car.

You could see the struggle on his face, the way he was fighting against the edge, but you weren’t having any of it. You wanted him to lose control.

The way his hips instinctively moved against your mouth told you he was more than ready to give in. You pulled back just enough to tease him, your lips just barely grazing the tip of him as you looked up into his eyes.

He cursed under his breath, the sound raw and hungry. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love it,” you shot back, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

“Hell yeah, I do,” he admitted, his voice rough, eyes burning with desire. “You’re a damn goddess.”

With that, you dove back in, taking him fully into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks, swirling your tongue around him as you felt him hit the back of your throat. Logan’s body went taut, every muscle coiling with tension as he groaned loudly, and the sound sent a thrill through you.

“Fuck, yes,” he gasped, and you could feel his breathing quickening, every thrust of his hips urging you on.

With a fierce growl, he finally surrendered, his body arching as he released himself deep into your mouth. You felt the warmth of him filling you, the salty taste overwhelming your senses as you drank him down, every pulse sending shockwaves through your body.

“Damn, that’s it,” he panted, his voice raw and heavy with pleasure. “You’re incredible.”

As the last waves of pleasure coursed through him, you slowly pulled back, savoring the taste and feeling a rush of triumph wash over you. Logan looked down at you, eyes dark with satisfaction, the tension finally breaking as he leaned back against the seat, chest heaving.

“Who knew you could be such a badass?” he said, a hint of admiration lacing his tone.

You laughed softly, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “What can I say? I’ve got a knack for making payments.”

He shook his head, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You’re one of a kind, you know that?”

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willyoubemycherryy · 4 months ago

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Hypervision.

Older!Logan Howlett x reader

Warnings: Cursing, sad traumatic backstory flashbacks, angst, cliffhangers, old man Logan, difficult unprocessed emotions, but he balls so fuck it, canon universe alterations

𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆42 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖♡´ ◕ ᴗ ◕ ｡ `♡ : @th3mrskory @smutinlove @inthetub @multifandom-random

sneakpeek ｡ ❄︎ ｡

[1]_She’s both the princess & the popstar.

•

To say the last couple years of his life have been rough, would be the understatement of every unfortunate century he’s lived through.

First losing the others, then Charles, and even the new mutants. Everything had spiraled in a torrent from horrible to completely unsalvageable with him being the last one standing. The irony of that still leaves him with a bitter, lonely hurt that only alcohol soothes for him these days. Of course not even that comes without a price. The alcohol, amongst other things would be the death of him if he wasn’t already slowly dying of everything that was finally catching up to him. Old age, grief that haunted him daily, the crushing guilt, the adamantium poisoning, and a lifetime of being reckless…Logan doesn’t think he’s ever felt more out of his mind.

But after another particularly rough patch, he decided to move out to another state entirely alone, somewhere in the city to work as a whatever and use the bustling noise as a distraction from his demons. At current, he needed money. He’d been juggling odd jobs here and there but the pay wasn’t anything to write about so to keep living until he dies, he needs cash. And more pain meds with booze. Which costs money to buy.

For once it’s just his luck when he goes out one night to grab a few drinks and maybe look for a gig when Logan sees an ad for work taped on the table end of a shitty bar. There wasn’t much detail on it, just the name of a guy as well as his number for further info but says it’ll pay well.

Logan grabs the paper and leaves, driving back to his small place so he can call.

Squinting as he dials in the number, briefly wondering if he’ll even get an answer given how late it is but as he sits on one of the few pieces of furniture in the room, to his surprise, he does. From there he gets the rundown of what the job is, when he’ll be interviewed and screened, that a clean background check is a must. No more than misdemeanors, which won’t be a problem since he’s lived his life off the grid for as long as he can remember and so far the man on the line explains simply that the gig is just picking up the same young girl at some high end clubs, events, plus other appearances and dropping her ass back home. Said girl had to be rich because the man on the phone tells him that he doesn’t need his own car because one will be provided by his charge.

However, the one thing that was putting Logan on edge was the mystery of it all. Almost no details about the girl he was supposed to be toting around were given. He’s used to odd jobs so he brushes it off because it can’t be more trouble than everything he’s lived through and with all the turmoil he’s currently going through, owing about 50,000$ to a gang for past debts and running from that too, Logan will take any break he can get.

The rest of his break comes about 2 weeks later when he’s officially hired a few days after arranged interview, passing background check and paid his first check. To him, it’s strange to get paid before doing any actual work, but he was warned at the interview that the girl who’s to be his charge is “unconventional”. Shaking his head from all the possible meaning of that, Logan tries to refocus as he drives to the place pinned on the cars gps where he was to first get you. Arching a salt and pepper brow, Logan makes a sharp turn as he gets closer to the destination, ignoring the anxiousness welling up. He still knew nothing about you and for some reason it put him on edge.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this would end up being more trouble than it could be worth.

Logan ends up being so lost in thought on the drive by all the secretiveness that by the time he checks the gps, it says he’s already there. The first thing he notices is how shiny everything is, even with his blurry vision the house looked opulent, modern. Multiple stories and big ornate windows. The driveway was also long as hell but whatever. Straightening out his pitch black suit (also provided by his employ) and smoothing his hair, Logan only just then remembers he forgot his glasses when he gets out to stand by the side doors where he was told to open for you. Again, strange.

He doesn’t scowl but he’ll always look unfriendly thanks to life and experience but he hopes it’s not something he’ll get shit about. Yet, less than 5 minutes later, his expression changes completely as confusion and understanding dawn on him as the doors open and his charge comes out. Two men stand by the door as you exit and the secrecy of it all finally makes some fucking sense while making his life harder.

It was you. Shugō. A singer.

The new artist that recently took the world by storm with your music. Despite his reclusive lifestyle, even Logans managed to hear about you but from what he’s heard, as big of a star you are- almost all of your past is shrouded in mystery. Your real name isn’t even known, just your stage name, Shugō. You were elusive and for some reason, that only added to your popularity.

His vision wasn’t what it used to be but as you strode towards him, he was almost grateful for it because seeing you in all your glory could potentially become a problem. Your hair was in an elaborate updo with some of it framing your heart-shaped face, soft shaped eyebrows, and plump lips that spread into a smile as you approached him. The click of your heels and the sway of your mini skirt in a v cut top that flared out at the wrists almost covering what he knew were perfectly painted nails.

He didn’t even know what to say to you but he didn’t even get the chance to before a bubbly giggle broke the silence, making Logan jump to open the door for you. The cool sugar in your was scent all in his face as you pat him on the shoulder, fluttering pretty lashes as you give him a once over, “You look like you’ll be much more fun than the last stiff”, is what you say while you pass him before sliding in. Logan blinks at that, closing the door behind you as he gets back in the driver’s side and wonders how for the quick few seconds your hand was on his shoulder, he could’ve sworn his vision was perfect again. Able to even see the fine glitter on the sides of your eyes.

Mentally, he’s already putting his barriers up. The usual- don’t get close, don’t get involved, it’s for your and his own good. It’s just a job and nothing else so it’s best he keep the distance regardless of who you are, he thinks as the chilled sweet smell of your perfume fills the space.

There’s a ping on the gps to about 45 minutes away where he’s dropping you off. He doesn’t mind the silence but you feel differently as you clear your throat, smiling. Logan glances at you through the mirror before looking back at the road, swallowing. You were young because of course you are. Even smiling, there wasn’t a fold or wrinkle in sight and he was willing to bet you were at least early 20’s but there was no way to confirm because even if he looked it up, nothing personal was known about you. Stifling a sigh, Logan grips the wheel a little tighter. Little things were always trouble, pretty young things were even more trouble which he was too old for but it could explain the still nagging feeling that something was off about this job..

“Hey driver…”

And about you.

Part 2…

#hugh jackman #logan howlett #Wolverine #logan howlett smut #logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett angst #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine angst #hugh jackman x reader #old man logan

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thealbatrovss · 4 months ago

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snow angel // logan howlett x reader

summary: you try and ask logan out. when did he start making snow angels?

oneshot- a little angst and then just pure fluff.

word count - 1k+

masterlist

The bar was loud. Your heart was beating even louder.

Logan sat at the very end of the counter. His leather jacket hung over his seat. He was trying to light his cigarette. The bartender was telling him to knock it off. He cursed. “What kind of bar doesn’t let you smoke?”

“This one.” The older woman plucked it out of his mouth before he could take the first inhale. He rolled his eyes, sipping on his beer, catching your stare.

You shrug your condolences, face warming up and turned away. You wore your best outfit tonight. One that made you feel confident. And you were going to need all the confidence you could get.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, but you were going to ask him out tonight. After years of lingering glances, flirting on missions, shoulder brushes and hallway conversations, it was well past time. You always thought he’d be the first to initiate any sort of conversation about it. But that never came.

It scared you, making you go through every single interaction you had with him. Did you remember all those moments wrong? Were you really just friends?

No. You weren’t wrong. Something was brewing between the both of you, and you had to be the one that challenged the storm.

Yet, here you were, stuck picking at the wooden board beneath you as you both drank by yourselves.

Underneath all that rough exterior you found a soft man who would do anything for the ones he loved. You saw it in the way he stepped up whenever The X Men needed help. Whenever a student failed, he told them to get back up again.

He was kind. Much kinder than the winter blizzard raging outside. Even if he didn’t always show it, you felt it.

After saving your ass during this afternoons mission, you offered to repay him with a drink. He of course couldn’t say no to that. Especially since you were paying.

That left you in the present, seated across the bar away from him. Alone. There were only a few seats left and none of them were next to each other. So you continued to stir your fruity drink, leg bouncing up and down aggressively.

It couldn't be that hard. You were an adult, god dammit. All you needed was a little drink and you’d be sharp and on your feet, walking over to him. Too bad you were nursing a third.

The man seated next to you shot you a glare, as if he were telling you to stop hitting his seat. You mouthed a couple, “sorrys,” and turned back to Logan.

He was with a woman. A very beautiful woman. She was sitting right by him. Somehow she was able to convince the man next to Logan to switch her seats. The man seemed dejected as her full attention turned to your teammate and friend.

You tried not to give in to the nagging insecurities and the, “I told you sos,” festering in your mind. But then she put her hand over his and he didn’t even bother to move it. He actually smiled a bit. Or was that the alcohol making you see things?

“This was stupid,” you mumbled, wanting to fold into yourself. The room was hot, almost suffocating.

Jackie stopped cleaning out the glasses in her hands and turned to talk to you. “What’s stupid?”

“Nothing, Jackie.”

“The drink I made? You better still give me a tip.”

“Of course I will.” You handed her some cash, not really caring how much you gave her.

She stuffed it into her pocket. “Is everything okay? You’re usually a pain in the ass.”

You scoffed, rubbing your hands together anxiously. The woman was giggling now. You didn't have the strength to see Logan’s reaction. Nor did you want to. “Thanks for that.”

“Hey, I'd take pain in the ass drunk any day over whatever wallowing you’re doing over here. What’s going on?”

You downed your last drink in a few gulps, letting the alcohol sting. “Sometimes you’re just too late is all.”

Then, with a wave goodbye, you put on your coat, and headed back to the car. You’d wait there, see if Logan would come out to greet you with a drunk smile soon to fade due to his regeneration or you’d see his lips stuck to the women in the bar as they stumbled out the door. It hurt to think of the latter.

You sat in the freezing car, hoping the heat would kick in soon. The butterflies you felt when he was showing you how to play pool just an hour ago turned to snakes. Everything was uncomfortable. Your clothes, the weather, the leather seats, the heat finally hitting your cold face. You didn’t want to cry, but those drinks were very unforgiving.

The snow glistened in its furry. It didn’t take its time reaching the ground, it came down with no mercy. The light of Jackie’s Bar was blurry against the tumbling snowflakes. You tried to make out the figure exiting the bar and standing in front of the car. The person moved soon after you could make out the yellow on his jacket.

“What the hell?”

Logan held his arms out in the furious weather, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. He shook his head, the white icy dancing off his hair. You could hear him shout something that sounded like your name before he fell onto his back in the powered snow.

You hurried out the car, wondering if Logan was really that drunk or if that even was Logan. But it was. And he was making snow angels. Well, he was trying to at least.

“Is this how you’re supposed to make them?” He moved his feet and hands at the same time but in the same direction, creating streaks on the ground. Nothing an angel would look like. “I’m not doing it correctly, am I?”

The cold nipped at your nose and ears, but the drinks thankfully kept you somewhat warm. You bit your lip. “You’ve never done one before?”

“Nope.” He continued to do every single step wrong and you continued to watch it happen. “This isn’t that fun.”

“When you’re a kid it’s everything.”

He sat up, looking over his shoulder at the work he did. “Well, I’ve been an adult way longer than I ever was a kid.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The snow started to slow down, gently drifting through the wind. Logan rubbed his legs like he was nervous to say something. “Why’d you come out here?”

You swallowed. It was so damn cold. “I could ask you the same thing?”

He shrugged. “Jackie dared me to.”

“Jackie?” You wondered. “Was she finding a way to get you out of her bar? What did you do this time?”

“Nothing.” He scratched the back of his head. “I think she knew I wasn’t really into that lady back there.”

You looked from the bar and back at the man sitting in the snow. “That’s surprising. I thought you two looked cute together.” You wanted to slap yourself. What was this self sabotaging? Maybe you just wanted to rip the bandaid off, finally be free of whatever was happening between the two of you.

Logan let out a laugh, shaking off the snow from his jacket in a pointless attempt. “I think the blizzard has frozen your brain. Just think about what I just said.”

You put your hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m not the one making snow angels well past midnight.”

“It got your attention though.” He pointed out.

You tilted your head to the side in defeat. “You always have my attention.” The filter inside your brain decided not to work apparently. Maybe it was frozen. Your eyes widened at the realization.

“Good.” It was only one word but he said it like it could and would fix anything. “We’re finally getting somewhere.” Logan stood up, inching closer. “I’d like to kiss you now. If that’s okay with you?”

And you nodded. It was the easiest thing in the world to agree too. You were shivering and it was so cold but he asked if he could kiss you and nothing else mattered in that moment.

When his lips finally touched yours it was soft and gentle. He held your cheeks with his fingers, they were surprisingly warm against your cool skin. The kiss grew more intense, the flick of his tongue sliding slowly against your bottom lip. Your hands found his hair, his found your waist. It was a kiss trying to soak up years of missed opportunities. Of late night talkings and infirmary visits. Missions gone wrong, missions gone right.

When you finally parted for air, his hands moved back to your cheeks. He smiled like the smile would never come off his face. “Next time you get jealous, just come and talk to me. You’re fun to talk to. More fun to kiss.”

You rolled your eyes and nodded in reply. “Does this mean alcohol angels next?”

He groaned at the joke, still smiling. “Come on. Let's get in the car before you freeze to death.”

#the wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #the wolverine #logan howlett #ravens masterlist

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mecachrome · 1 year ago

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pre-mclaren oscar piastri primer (ft. maxf, landoscar)

0. introduction

for a few months now i've been wanting to make both an oscar primer and a timeline of pre-mclaren landoscar moments, but i couldn't figure out which one to prioritize… then after some deliberation i finally realized i could just combine the two things together! so. here is an oscar-centric timeline that is mainly about his racing background, moving to the uk, and how he became acquainted with other members of the rfm pack—aka lando, maxf, and logan. i don't know whether any of this information is useful or even vaguely interesting, but i mostly just wrote it for myself and thought i'd share what i had in case anyone else wanted to check it out. please feel free to comment or shoot me an ask if anything here is egregiously incorrect; i've checked and linked as many sources as i could but it's of course possible that some errors remain :)

1. background, rc racing, early karting days (2007-2015)

oscar piastri was born on april 6, 2001 in brighton east, a suburb of melbourne not far from albert park circuit, as the son of chris and nicole and to-be oldest brother to 3 younger sisters. a love for all things automotive ran deep in the piastri family: both of his grandfathers were mechanics and his father had also co-founded his own vehicle diagnostics software company, hp tuners, aka oscar's sponsor throughout his racing career. thanks to his father's business, oscar's family was objectively well-off and managed to contribute a fairly substantial amount of support toward his junior career, but they also weren't swimming in cash by multi-millionaire motorsport standards either.

(L-R) edie, mae, hattie, and oscar, from nicole's twitter — each sibling is ~2 years apart (source)

while most drivers on the current grid were introduced to motorsport through go-karting, usually at or before the age of 7, oscar's path to single-seaters differed slightly. he first developed an interest in racing via remote-controlled cars at the age of 6, when his father brought him a monster truck as a souvenir back from a business trip in america. oscar began racing them that same year, eventually moving to safer electric track vehicles and even winning the second class of the national titles in 2010, at the age of 9. he was so small then that he often needed to stand on a milk crate to see the cars on track, and the next-youngest competitor at the time was twice his age. (source)

youtube

oscar on the podium at age 8 (nov 16, 2009)

oscar with his father chris, who often competed alongside him in a separate class (dec 21, 2010)

by 2011, oscar and his father were seriously considering his potential of pursuing rc racing as a viable career path, but things changed when he was introduced to karting via a friend's daughter in the rc community and his aspirations slowly shifted toward racing from inside a car. oscar was an unsurprisingly sporty and competitive child growing up; he'd played some cricket and aussie rules football and knew that all he wanted to do was race professionally, full-stop, at the time thinking along the lines of australian racing categories like v8 supercars. he was still competing in remote car racing as late as 2013, but he began karting seriously within australia in 2014, placing respectably in the junior categories of several regional karting series against relatively senior and more-experienced racers, and even going to france for a one-off event where he finished on the podium of the iame international junior x30 final. this outing affirmed his potential to his father and motivated the two of them to split time between australia and europe in 2015 as they juggled his karting future; plans for two more european events that year fell through, including the cik-fia world championship at the kfj level (which logan sargeant would go on to win), but at this point they were officially looking to take his career to the next level and commit fully to european karting in 2016.

this is when ricky flynn (and the hypothetical idea of lando norris!!!) comes in. before we get into rfm and karting professionally in europe, it's important to note that the defining aspect of landoscar's junior careers is that their pathways never once intersected. in fact, they don't even seem to have met properly before oscar entered the f1 grid as alpine reserve, although they'd spoken over social media and oscar was familiar with several people around lando's life—for example, maxf, logan, guanyu, and even lando's older brother oliver, who had also raced for rfm.

in short, you could say that landoscar's biggest hindrance was their parallel excellence. oscar was good enough to catch up and even surpass everyone else at lando's level, but lando remained untouchable throughout the years. oscar is only 1.5 years younger than him, but their f1 careers are offset by 4 years (2019 vs. 2023 debut) because of exactly two things: oscar's 2022 gap year in alpine and his two attempts at formula renault eurocup. on the other hand, lando sped through all of his junior categories in blistering fashion, falling short of the championship only once: the year he placed 2nd in f2 behind george russell. this is significant because many talk about the clinical nature of oscar's rapid single-seater ascension and three b2b2b victories (still very impressive, especially given his limited karting career!), but all of that speaks equally to the illustrious nature of lando's junior success and the sheer magnitude of faith placed in him as mclaren's "golden boy" coming up the ranks. to put things into further perspective, lando was teammates with maxf and jehan daruvala at rfm until 2014, jehan competing in the same class and max one below, yet by the time oscar was racing max and jehan—in f3 in 2020 and f2 in 2021, respectively—lando was already into his 2nd and 3rd years of f1. here's a chart that hopefully makes a bit more sense:

majorly simplified timeline showing lando, guanyu, maxf, logan, and oscar's junior careers + the karting classes they primarily competed in each calendar year. maxf did not complete his 2nd f3 season and many of them contested multiple/different formula renault series, but this is just a rough overview of their feeder series experience.

2. moving to europe, rfm, regional formulae (2016-2019)

back in australia, oscar was a member of the oakleigh go-kart racing club and being actively mentored by james sera, a multi-time australian karting champion and fa kart dealer who worked with young karting talents alongside his cousin david. in late-2015, he presumably helped oscar and his father reach out to ricky flynn, who ran ricky flynn motorsport (rfm) and whose team was at the time enjoying exorbitant success in the karting scene; lando had won the world championship at the kf level the year prior, and logan would soon clinch the kfj title in 2015, results which further drew oscar's interest toward the team. ricky flynn agreed to take oscar on and have him and his dad move out to europe, and by november 2015 oscar announced on social media that he would be joining rfm the next year. in january of 2016, he and his father moved to hertford, uk, so that oscar could begin a 100-day karting program and travel extensively around europe to attend races. this is where he met logan sargeant, who was in his final year on the team but competing a class above, now at the ok (previously kf) level. oscar himself was only competing in the okj class.

not oscar-related, but as you can see guanyu, logan, and maxf were already acquainted before oscar and logan met, since the three of them and lando had been in rfm together as of 2014 — (may 11, 2014) & (feb 6, 2015)

oscar and logan in 2016

in an interview published on june 7, 2023, oscar reflected on leaving australia and committing to his racing dream, saying:

"i think if there was a turning point, it was probably when i started finishing towards the front in australia, and i started winning a couple of races here and there and finishing in the top three of championships and stuff, and then went to europe and fully committed to going down that route. [...] there's obviously a very big commitment at that point when you move halfway across the world without family and stuff. so i knew at that point that i really wanted to become a professional because, firstly, that's what i want to do anyway, but, secondly, now i'm sacrificing seeing my family, and stuff like that to be able to do this — which was a sacrifice i was more than willing to make."

like the majority of oscar's karting career, his time with ricky flynn can primarily be summarized as decent. none of his performances were particularly stellar, and in november 2016 he placed 6th in the fia world championship final behind the likes of victor martins and théo pourchaire (he mainly competed against guys like them, dennis hauger, caio collet, etc… once again logan was a class above and lando/maxf had already graduated to single-seaters), but he showed promising racing foundations and a great capacity for improvement, especially given that he'd moved to europe the same year and was still adjusting to life and racing on the opposite hemisphere. about 6 months into his new karting venture, oscar had settled in reasonably well and his father decided he would return to australia to continue on with his life, so they made the joint decision that oscar was to begin boarding at haileybury's uk campus and continue racing in europe entirely on his own. uk and australian school years are misaligned, so my personal understanding is he moved to europe after finishing year 9 in australia, attempted online school/took a few months off (he says he did online coursework here, but mentioned here that he was out of school, so it sounds like it must have been a very half-hearted effort…), came back to australia over the uk summer to do some more karting, then began boarding in september 2016 as a year 10 student. he spent ~4 years there and eventually received his a-levels in 2020, except his final year was disrupted by covid and he never sat his exams. (blog post mentioning his a-levels + btg transcript excerpt about his exams; his website says he attended haileybury from 2016-19, but i think this mainly encapsulates his boarding period, as he was still doing remote work in april 2020.)

oscar in f4 with his gcse revision guide, 📸 sebastiaan rozendaal (may 20, 2018)

2016 is also when oscar began his well-documented super-liking of several of lando's social media profiles. i think understanding oscar's time in rfm and his extremely british single-seater origins helps better paint his history with lando and maxf; my personal understanding of pre-mclaren landoscar is that while oscar never formally met lando or maxf during his karting days, he knew of them quite well through rfm and thus followed them on instagram/twitter after moving to the uk. of course, oscar has a fairly active social media presence in general, so young oscar quietly liked instagram posts and tweets from many different people, but i do feel compelled to note that in the early days he liked lando, maxf, and logan's posts with seriously impressive frequency compared to anyone else on the grid (or anyone in general, really); after creating his twitter account in may 2016, some of the very first tweets oscar liked were from maxf, and he also liked a multitude of mundane lando tweets from 2016 until… today, while on the other hand he didn't start liking george's tweets—another similarly-aged young british talent—until late 2017. (he does have some fun george-admiring moments though, but that can wait for another time!) outside of rfm, other people oscar was familiar with during his early racing years were british f4 teammate ayrton simmons, to-be series champion jamie caroline, and old australian karting friend christian pancione, who appears to still be one of his best mates (if not his best) as of today. fun fact is that christian raced for the carrera cup as a support event to the australian gp in 2023; here's oscar allegedly checking the quali live timing at lunch during his own media day.

so, to conclude, oscar's early lando focus basically traces back to the motorsport path he took at the behest and guidance of his early rfm connections in the uk. the thing is that despite growing up in australia and vaguely admiring several aussie drivers in f1 as a child (read: mark webber and eventually daniel ricciardo), oscar has never had a specific driver he consistently mentions when pressed for his racing "idol," likely since his personality inherently resists idolatry and he instead views successful people more as actionable benchmarks or reference points for self-improvement rather than as unattainable paragons of accomplishment. as a kid forced to grow up almost entirely on his own, the majority of his racing aspirations were molded independently in the uk—he completed his karting career in the uk, boarded at haileybury for 4 years (fun fact: other drivers to attend include jehan, callum ilott, and clément novalak; callum was a few years above oscar and finished school in 2017, but the two would later become quite talkative over social media anyway), raced in british f4, became a brdc member, contested eurocup under a british license and therefore had the british flag raised and british national anthem played during his wins, stayed in the uk even at alpine since the factory is based in enstone, etc. oscar basically moved to the uk from australia without having really met anyone significant in the racing scene (other than jack doohan, or more importantly jack's father mick, but jack is younger and did an extra year of karting) and pretty much didn't have anyone specific to "look up to" at the time. oscar's first acknowledgement of lando's online existence was in december 2015, when he liked one of lando's instagram posts prior to moving to england, so it can be assumed that lando basically functioned as his most accessible reference point in the junior ladder as a 14 year old dipping his toes into the european racing scene for the first time. that is my highly subjective analysis of the situation!

select quotes re: oscar's inconsistent responses to his motorsport "hero" (or his favorite driver / a driver he looks up to in general):

(f1fs; mar 9, 2022) "i started watching f1 in… 2009 was the first season i properly watched. so when brawn came in, obviously mark was the only aussie on the grid at that point, so i was kind of naturally going for him. then joined by daniel, so obviously going to support the aussies, but i think watching lewis has been nothing short of spectacular, and a very good role model. [...] i think when i was first watching, i supported mark, but, you know, and i hope he takes no offense to this—vettel was winning everything at that point. so i was supporting mark, but vettel was doing most of the winning. i think now that i understand more about racing though, i would say [the driver i look up to the most is] lewis, mainly. the way he goes about things on and off the track is quite exceptional."

(mcl youtube; mar 29, 2023) sporting idols mentioned: ayrton senna, alain prost, michael jordan (see also ultimate athletes list)

(p1; aug 10, 2023) "i would say i never had like one specific idol. when i was growing up watching mark webber was at red bull, and obviously being australian, red bull being very quick at the time, i kind of naturally followed him. i mean—even like some of the guys in the junior ranks above me. like lando was always kind of two, three years above me, winning… most things on his way up. so i guess kind of him in some ways?"

(eff won; dec 4, 2023) "i don’t really have like one specific [idol]. i think what lewis has been able to do in terms of getting to seven world championships was incredibly impressive. i think what max is doing now is also very impressive…"

the first lando post oscar liked on instagram (dec 21, 2015)

the first maxf posts oscar liked; instagram (feb 26, 2016) & twitter (may 9, 2016)

anyway, back to british f4! despite his initially unconventional foray into motorsport, oscar's journey progressed in a much more orderly fashion once he stepped up to single-seaters. his actual debut was in f4 uae, which he ran 3 rounds of between 2016 and 2017 (another fun fact: this is where he briefly acquainted himself with mclaren indycar driver david malukas, who would later recall him being very intelligent and whom zak brown allegedly spoke to oscar about before appointing to their indy team). after cutting his teeth on actual car-racing for the first time, oscar decided against moving up to the ok class as he felt confident in his ability to be competitive in single-seaters. his first full season was therefore the 2017 british f4 championship, during which oscar signed with arden while logan went to reigning champions carlin (lando had won with them in 2015, then maxf in 2016). oscar made his way to the top step 6 times in the season and placed just barely above logan for 2nd in the championship, finishing behind the considerably more experienced jamie caroline. arden was also founded and is currently owned by red bull team principal christian horner, so it was during oscar's time there that christian took note of and interest in his talent; oscar reportedly did a few runs in the red bull simulator but was passed over for joining the academy, which christian later voiced regret on. (source)

maxf, logan (center), and oscar (to max's right) on a day maxf was visiting the 2017 british f4 grid (april 11, 2017)

linus lundqvist, oscar, and logan on the podium at snetterton (jul 30, 2017)

jamie and oscar, who were… er, mathematically in the main championship fight. for some reason they made them take these photos (sep 30, 2017)

after a successful f4 outing with arden, oscar returned to the team for his first season of formula renault eurocup in 2018, a renault series that ran in its specific configuration until 2020 before merging with the parallel regional series frec to become what is today known as freca. this season proved to be less competitive for oscar, as arden was relatively inexperienced in this series and oscar's three teammates were afflicted with what can colloquially be referred to as a "skill issue," making it difficult to collectively develop the car throughout the season. (blog interview) the series was thus returning driver maxf's to lose, who at the time was racing for reigning champs r-ace with teammates that included oscar's fellow rookies logan and victor martins.

despite the unideal environment, oscar managed to prove his worth by placing a respectable 8th in the series, scoring 110 points as a rookie driver and capping the season off with 3 podiums and a top-finish of 2nd place—a jarring contrast to his teammates' joint total of 12 points. this result attracted the attention of r-ace and granted him a seat with them for the 2019 season, at which point maxf and logan both graduated to f3. thankfully that wasn't too much of a concern for oscar since he'd always intended to do two seasons of eurocup, and now he finally had a chance to win the first serious championship of his racing career with an established racing outfit.

oscar, max, and yifei ye on the hockenheim r2 podium (sep 23, 2018) [full gifset]

oscar's second season of eurocup is when he truly started proving himself as a driver, or at least to the people whose names, money, and opinions mattered around the paddock. his main competition in 2019 was again victor, who was now racing for mp and had been made a member of the renault sport academy back in 2018 after a strong performance in french f4. despite a close title fight, oscar managed to hold him off for the championship in the final race of the season, kicking off what would soon become an impressive string of consecutive single-seater series titles. even sweeter was the fact that all eurocup champions were awarded a renault sport academy spot that could be left or taken as they pleased, and of course—while the finances weren't nearly as impressive as alpine would later proclaim in their baseless smear campaign—oscar's connections in the racing world were limited as an australian driver almost exclusively managed by his father, so he gladly accepted the offer for the many venues of support renault presented to him.

see also: bby oscar briefly mentioning lando after winning eurocup in 2019 (@ 1:10)

oscar being lifted by his team (r-ace) after placing 4th in the abu dhabi finale and winning the title by 7.5 points

3. renault sport academy, lockdown, f3 (2020)

many things happened in 2020. one: oscar became an official member of the renault sport academy, joining the likes of max (who'd been picked up on merit after winning british f4 in 2017), guanyu, christian lundgaard, caio collett, and fellow new recruit hadrien david (victor had been strategically demoted after oscar's win because renault is a notoriously unserious organization, but again this is not the post). two: by the time oscar was ready for f3, moving up the ladder proved to be exorbitantly expensive, and he realized he needed better funds and managerial support to sort his career out. he'd been offered a spot in prema's f3 team by team-owner rené rosin at the end of his eurocup season, who'd named him for the post-season test before the championship was over and stressed that the spot was his no matter where he finished. (source) prema is unquestionably one of the top—if not frequently the top—teams one can drive for in most junior series (though there is also somewhat of a self-selection bias; if you ask oscar he is not a significant beneficiary of prematax!), having absolutely demolished the f3 competition that same year and achieved a clean sweep of the drivers' standings with rob shwartzman, marcus armstrong, and jehan at 1-2-3 consecutively. oscar completed post-season testing with them in spain alongside to-be teammates logan and fred vesti in october (source), before confirming on jan 26, 2020 that he would be joining them for the f3 season as a renault junior.

so, where does mark webber come in here? apparently mark's trainer from red bull and wec had also been oscar's trainer since 2016 (i'm pretty sure this is australian physiologist simon sostaric), and it was through their joint connection that oscar was introduced to mark. according to mclaren's 2023 season preview, "the pair hit it off, and webber took his countryman under his wing," signing oscar to jam sports management, aka the management agency he runs with his wife ann. mark's support would become a major factor in helping oscar progress through the feeder ranks and establish himself in f1, mainly because he had actual connections and could help oscar network with sponsors and negotiate his way during future signings. of course, more on this later.

as an aside, here are a few things mark has said about oscar:

"he’s got that white line fever when he puts his helmet on and turns into a different character, which is sensational." (mar 1, 2020)

"one of oscar’s biggest strengths by a mile, compared to everyone he is competing against — and this will be a huge string to his bow when he makes it to f1 — is his composure. he has immense levels of composure. [...] if you are weak mentally you won’t make it. he was on his own from an early age. he did brilliantly with his studies. but the racing disease would not go away, he wants it very much." (sydney morning herald; dec 11, 2021)

"he’s a prost, mate. he’s such a thinker and so calm. at first i thought i needed to inject a bit of urgency in him, but actually no, he’s got his own frequency. that’s just where he is." (the race; oct 7, 2023)

estimates provided by chris piastri on the cost of oscar's junior career, stressing the million-dollar commitments of running a single season of f3 or f2 (source)

anyway, back to the chaotic events of 2020. i think something that's good to keep in mind when discussing oscar's time in the renault sport academy is that he was actually a relatively new recruit, as in he only participated in a single training camp with the other juniors in 2020 and most of them (max, christian, guanyu, the temporary ghost of victor) already knew each other before. oscar essentially met with renault's factory team in early 2020, filmed promotional material with other juniors in january before attending the season opener together in february and then heading to winter training camp later that month, after which he and max left early for f3 pre-season testing in bahrain on march 1—a blessing in disguise, seeing as caio, hadrien, and christian remained behind and would soon be stuck quaranting in a hotel in tenerife—then briefly spent a week at school before returning home for what was meant to be a quick pit stop at the australian gp, which at the time had yet to be canceled.

then, of course, lockdown happened.

simplified breakdown of renault junior stints, notably showcasing the academy's struggles to meaningfully promote any of its juniors

oscar at the 2020 renault season opener alongside then-academy director mia sharizman, then-tp cyril abiteboul, alain prost, f1 drivers esteban ocon and daniel ricciardo, and the other academy juniors: fewtrell, lundgaard, zhou, david (feb 12, 2020)

oscar and maxf behind the scenes of the same event (feb 12, 2020)

stuck in australia for three months, oscar would end up participating in two fia virtual races, one for f2 and another for f1 (jun 7, 2020). a fun landoscar tidbit is that he finished 5th in the virtual gp right behind lando, so they technically had raced each other before 2023, depending on... well, whether you count a 2020 sim race wherein george russell and alex albon lead the pack as a real race. nevertheless, this was a time when drivers were becoming much more active online, seeing as streaming was the best way to keep their images relevant and connect with fans, and despite oscar expressing little interest in streaming on twitch he would still experience a considerable uptick in his online activity and twitter reach that year.

racing resumed on july 4 at the red bull ring in austria; oscar had been granted an exemption to travel to the uk and complete a 2-week quarantine back on may 27, a reassuring indicator to the motorsport world that the f3 season would run after all. now that he no longer had to attend school, having received 2 b's and 1 c for his maths, physics, and computer science a-levels, oscar relocated from hertford to oxford in june to be near the renault facilities, which he visited nearly every day to train at, and began living independently (as in in a flat) for the first time since 2016, rooming with fellow renault junior caio collet.

as i said before, this season is when oscar's online presence and "memeability" began to really conceptualize, enabled primarily by the fact that he was a) finally living outside of a school dormitory, and b) now, of course, signed at prema, a team notorious for its social media visibility, literal family atmosphere, and frequent youtube pandering. according to this f3 article, his twitter followers jumped from 795 at the start of the season to 11.6k by the time he won the championship, an audience built significantly off the self-deprecating string of jokes he used to tweet regarding drs and general reliability issues faced throughout the season.

what i guess i want to touch on here is how oscar's online presence has always been concentrated around the bare fundamentals of his personality: dry humor, candid words, sparing emojis, a few humorous photos detailing the mundane reality of his everyday routines, and at most the occasional inopportune meme or reaction gif (#thepiastri 🤷‍♂️, f2 in baku, jetpack guy, so on). he's bantered frequently with callum on twitter and near-obsessively liked memes, videos, and other updates lando shares with his audience, but he also has seemingly little interest in building up his own "brand" the way lando so smartly has with ln4 and quadrant, and quite frankly seems viscerally incapable of wanting to engage one-to-one with fans or otherwise leveraging the popularity of his material image. basically what i like to say is that oscar enjoys being adjacent to "lad humor" and will happily enable it, but he really has no interest in being the one to initiate it himself!

"there's some things you want to share, some things you don’t. in today's age and sort of having the profile that us drivers do, we kind of just have everything shared,” piastri said. “but (social media) can be used for good, certainly within the profiles that we have. but in some ways, it can be negative, and there's always going to be people out there that don't like you for being you.” piastri tries to write as many of his posts as possible, and he checks those written by his team to be sure they sound authentically him. (the athletic; jun 29, 2023)

along these lines, oscar does enjoy the spotlight, only he seems to prefer it concentrated in a specific lens toward a specific productive end. he's endlessly capable of seeing the objective upside of a situation, joking after he was made a meme in baku following his f2 sr1 collision that he was all for it if it got him popularity. after his eurocup championship he also said: "i think everyone loves a bit of spotlight on them. i think that's just human nature, so a bit of attention's always nice." which is interesting to me!

but back to racing. this season would unexpectedly become two things: maxf's last competitive season in motorsport—especially disappointing considering that he'd gone into the championship expecting to put on a second-season title charge, instead failing to gel with the hitech team to the point that each increasingly poor weekend made him spiral mentally—as well as oscar and logan's last season racing against each other before f1, since logan would later encounter financial difficulties that left him stranded in f3 as oscar catapulted himself to f2 victory. 2020 was obviously a weird season in general because of covid and the gap from pre-season testing, so it also meant that oscar had gone into the season fairly rusty; he managed to win the first race of the season, but on top of his drs rollercoaster he did struggle with middling results in qualifying and was met step-by-step throughout the championship by logan.

maxf's last race in f3 was the barcelona sprint race on august 16, with three rounds left to the end of the season. he dnfed in an unfortunate first-lap incident mere moments after oscar charged his way up from 5th on the grid to the front of the pack, where he would eventually breeze his way to victory and pull himself near-level with logan for the championship lead. i recognize that this is an oscar post and not a maxf post, but i think their time in f3 during an extremely isolated and covid-affected period speaks to both an interesting dynamic between them (the little kid who always lagged a series behind you suddenly beating you on merit) and their respective temperaments toward racing. while at renault, max reportedly lived with jack aitken during the week but would return to his family home on weekends, so it makes sense that he struggled to adapt when covid hit and drivers were collectively forced into very regimented sporting bubbles. mark webber, who worked for channel 4 as a commentator and had access to the f1 paddock, basically couldn't see oscar in person and instead spoke to him over the phone every day on race weekends. maxf said of his decision to quit:

"normally [...] i’m able to stay calm under pressure and i don’t let many things get to me but when you have a bad qualifying result and you see guys up there that you know you’re capable of beating, it definitely takes a dig at you inside and it’s been a lot to process throughout the year." (source)

while then-academy director mia sharizman, who worked closely with the renault juniors, spoke of oscar's inherent propensity for independence and how he adapted well to the pressures of living on his own:

"if you look at oscar piastri, he has been living on his own, [away] from his family who are in melbourne for the past five to six years. because he has been living on his own in boarding school, he learns how to live on his own, and he thrives in that. we have to force him... 'have you spoken to your father?!' it's just things like that, but he thrives in that. that's why he thrived in those weekends racing. he loves being on his own without anybody. on the other hand, we had max fewtrell, for example, who can't – he couldn't survive the 11 weekends racing, because he always needed his family to be around him. so those are the things that suddenly you see and, i think that that we see now, after a few years a driver who is quick, a driver who has the talent, and then the driver who is stable." (source)

2020 is also when lando and oscar spoke to each other on twitter for the first time. yay! after lando went semi-viral for having a meltdown over a hornet on three separate social media platforms, oscar first joked with him about it on august 24 (this was incidentally also the day maxf announced his functional retirement, which oscar liked as well 😭), before referencing the incident again a few weeks later in september.

(aug 24, 2020) / (sep 10, 2020)

outside of drs tweets and trying desperately to banter with lando norris, oscar's popular tweets at the time included several food-related mishaps and home appliance tragedies. while this isn't actually a lando moment, he was also slandered by the LN4 twitter account a month later on october 17 for reasons that remain a mystery, resulting in this set of interactions:

(oct 17, 2020) / (oct 19, 2020)

bonus: maxf's tweets @ oscar (when you aren't close enough to just text him.......)

but back to f3. similarly to his second season of eurocup, oscar would go on to clinch the title in only the final race of the year, this time even more stressfully—he never got pole that season and won arguably off of consistency, benefiting from errors and unfortunate collisions involving his primary competitors. after a hectic qualifying and string of contentious grid penalties set for the before-last round in monza, he began the feature race 15th on the grid but put on an impressive performance to finish on the podium, buffing his points lead after logan was tapped by clément and put out of the points. he, logan, and fred all dnfed in race 2 (read: the novalak pendulum swung away from oscar's favor to maintain stringent cosmic equilibrium, while logan and fred threw away a points opportunity with a teammate4teammate love tap), and oscar went into mugello with only an 8-point lead over logan and a 24-point lead over pourchaire. this weekend proved equally hectic, as is frequently the case with f3 racing standards, but in short oscar and logan entered the final sprint race level on points, with théo approaching terrifyingly near in their rearview mirrors. logan was unceremoniously taken out of contention on the first lap after contact with zendeli, and oscar managed to squeak his way to 164 points in the championship by placing 7th in the race; théo finished 3rd, with 161 points, two positions away from claiming both the race and the championship title.

a succinct summary of an eventful season! (posted jun 30, 2021)

despite winning the f3 championship in far-from-dominant fashion, oscar's career was now steadily on an upward trend. on october 30 he was rewarded with a private test in the r.s.18 at bahrain alongside christian and guanyu, and a month later confirmed that he would be racing for prema again in f2 (december 1, 2020). as a rookie f3 champion there was a moderate amount of interest in him, but no one really expected him to carry home the f2 title on his first try and so one of the main favorites going into the next season was his second-year teammate and 2019 f3 champion rob shwartzman.

4. f2, alpine reserve duties, #piastrigate (2021-2022)

at the start of 2021, fernando officially took daniel's place at renault and the team rebranded itself as alpine, parting ways with team principal cyril abiteboul and functionally replacing him with new ceo laurent rossi—part of a no-tp management structure, frankly a self-evident infrastructural faux-pas from a million miles away. the renault sport academy was then also renamed to alpine academy; again i know that this is an oscar post so i won't get too into the details of Alpine Being Alpine, but understanding how the academy functioned does help better contextualize the inevitable unfurling of piastrigate.

the main issue, really, would always be laurent rossi, or at least the values laurent rossi had been hired to represent and which he willingly peddled during his controversial tenure at alpine. after rossi's appointment it was reported that "the renamed alpine academy was now being tugged in two directions between director mia sharizman's ideal as a creator of future f1 drivers and alpine's chief executive officer laurent rossi's commercially-led preferences." (source) mia directed the academy from january 2016 until may 2022, and had been the one to restructure its recruitment process by demanding better funding and robust testing programs to cyril:

"when we first restarted the team in 2016, it was, we didn't even have a two-year-old car program at that time. we had to use a 2012 program using the [lotus] e20. [...] then in 2018, i went through it, and i said to cyril abiteboul, "look, let's try and do this." we needed financial resources. i needed a head start with financial resources to kick start the program whereby you entice drivers, and you offer [a place] to the academy drivers. it was more to see how they are... it was more of an evaluation process... that was what the first idea was. then we developed the program to develop the drivers to suit their formual 2 program." (source)

(note: mia also believed that 2020 was a disappointing year for all of his juniors save for oscar's performance in f3, which is a whole other thing. but rossi's greatest shortcoming was that he had singular, insulated vision, and he resisted any external input to the detriment of reactionary business decisions, a fact that alienated alain prost and soon led to his exit from the outfit in 2022. not a good look!!! prost would later call rossi "the best example of the dunning-kruger effect, that of an incapable leader who thinks himself able to overcome his incompetence with his arrogance and lack of humanity toward his troops." 🤌)

so basically, the cracks of mind-boggling incompetence within the team's leadership structure were long evident. on a brighter note, oscar's 2021 f2 season would quickly become his strongest single-seater contest ever (f1 youtube has a good summarizing video of his season, if interested); because of covid, f2 was experimenting with a three-race format this year in which quali set the reverse grid for sr1 and sr1 results then set the reverse grid for sr2, which essentially meant high qualifiers were rewarded for simply maintaining composure in the first sprint and running cleanly in the top 10 in order to secure a favorable grid spot in sr2. oscar adapted well to this format, building off his reputation of smooth, consistent driving on top of slowly improving his qualifying results over the course of the season, finally breaking through with his first feature-race win in monza.

oscar with mia sharizman

this is also around the time when lando mentioned oscar in official f1 media for the first time, reading off a question about him to daniel in an interview posted in october:

"this one's not even about formula one. it's about oscar piastri. oscar pias-tree! [...] he's been on it this year." — (full video) (oct 1, 2021)

of his own f2 campaign, oscar said:

"i thought that i could challenge for race wins, but i probably wasn't expecting to be so consistently at the front. consistency is something that i’ve had as a trait throughout my career, and i was expecting to be consistent in my results this year — but maybe a bit lower down!" (source)

not only did he end up being consistently at the front, he became virtually unstoppable in the second half of the season. on december 11, oscar clinched the title in abu dhabi with two races to spare, ending the season with 5 consecutive poles and 4 consecutive feature wins, 60.5 points above his previously-favored teammate in the standings. #notbadforashitqualifier!

by now oscar was a hot commodity in the paddock; the only problem was that alpine didn't really care, mainly because rossi had enthusiastically re-signed ocon to a three-year deal in 2021 and held zero intention of actually promoting any of its juniors to one of the race seats, plus the one open spot at alfa romeo had instead gone to guanyu and his considerable financial package (though oscar has always been vocally defensive of guanyu's appointment to his detractors). instead of moving to another series, such as indycar or super formula, oscar recognized that he'd proven everything he needed to prove within the feeder system and opted to remain on the grid as alpine's reserve driver, mainly so that he could embed himself in an f1 team environment and—most crucially—avoid being left "out of sight, out of mind," because once you go to america you usually don't come back.

i'll keep the rest of this post brief since i feel like everyone already knows What Went Down, but a quick highlight for fellow landoscar enjoyers was the 2022 australian gp on april 10, during which oscar accompanied rosanna tennant for the post-race show and awkwardly participated in a chaotic lando & alex interview. as far as i know, this was landoscar's first time interacting on-camera!

o: "i haven't raced either of them, no." l: "not yet!" o: "not yet. hopefully soon." — (full video) (apr 10, 2022)

then silly season started, and everything was thrown into disarray when sebastian vettel announced his imminent retirement and fernando subsequently took his place at aston martin; alpine scrambled to recover from this blindsided move and prematurely promoted oscar to an f1 seat, to which oscar eventually posted The Tweet—claiming he'd never signed a contract with alpine and would not be racing for them in 2023, thus kicking off #piastrigate. or the piasco, or whatever you prefer to call it.

here's a good article that properly summarizes the crb ruling, but tl;dr: mclaren and alpine had come to an agreement back in march to loan oscar to mclaren's stable of reserve drivers after daniel contracted covid; mark webber, who was close to andreas seidl from their time at porsche in wec, quietly negotiated a contract with mclaren for 2023 that oscar would then sign on july 4, which was reportedly initially a reserve deal with an upgrade clause to a full-time drive given a dr buyout; alpine's legal team turned out to be essentially one overworked legal director who mishandled the situation thanks to a lack of organizational support, while a concrete williams deal never actually existed no matter what people continuously allege, and any proprietary right to oscar's services that alpine purported to have for the 2023 season would soon be voided by crb rule on september 2. in other words, they dun goofed.

because tumblr dies when i try to include it in this post, here's a link to a condensed chronological timeline version of this post.

that's it for now. i'm sure you know how the rest goes!!!

#oscar piastri #*m #quite possibly the dumbest thing i've ever written and most likely of no use to anyone at all. but i had fun so no flames pls 🥲☝️#there's so much more i could have said this is quite frankly the condensed version... scrapped a whole separate section on just his psyche #i need 2 be normal.........#op meta

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maybe-im-dark · 3 months ago

Text

Rugged choices

Logan stepped into the dusty secondhand clothing store, his eyes scanning the racks of well-worn shirts and faded jeans. The air inside was heavy with the familiar scent of old leather and aged fabric, the kind of smells that always put him at ease. Without hesitation, he made a beeline for the racks, already flipping through the clothes as if he had been here a hundred times before.

Wade, however, came to a sudden stop just inside the door, looking around in bewilderment, his arms thrown out wide in exaggerated confusion.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Wade exclaimed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the cramped store. “Logan, we just got handed a stack of TVA-cash the size of a small country’s GDP, and this is where you want to spend it? A secondhand store?”

Logan didn’t bother looking up from the rack of flannel shirts he was flipping through. He pulled one out, a red-and-black plaid that had clearly seen better days, and held it up, his nostrils flaring slightly as he sniffed the fabric.

“Don’t like the smell of new stuff,” Logan muttered, tossing the shirt over his arm. “Chemicals. Hurts my nose.”

Wade blinked, his brain working to process Logan’s explanation. Slowly, he nodded in acceptance, though his bewilderment was far from gone.

“Huh. Okay, that actually makes sense. Super senses and all.” Wade paused, then threw his arms out again in an exaggerated gesture. “But come on, man! You could be rocking designer leather jackets, limited edition jeans, silk boxers—the whole nine yards!”

Logan ignored him, already pulling another flannel shirt from the rack, this one in muted blue and green. He sniffed it, grunted his approval, and added it to the pile in his arms. It wasn’t long before the pile grew to include several more flannels in different colors, along with faded jeans and plain white undershirts.

Wade watched with a growing smirk as Logan’s choices all started to blend into a singular aesthetic.

“So we’re just committing fully to the lumberjack aesthetic, huh?” Wade teased, leaning on a nearby rack. “Maybe pick up an axe while we’re at it, chop some wood, live in the woods, grow an even bigger beard. Real 'I’m-going-off-the-grid' vibes.”

Logan stopped rifling through the clothes just long enough to glare at Wade, his patience visibly thinning.

“Better than prancing around in pink Hello Kitty shirts and leggings two sizes too tight,” Logan shot back, his voice low and sharp as he pointed at Wade’s current outfit—a ridiculous hot pink Hello Kitty tee and a pair of black leggings that left nothing to the imagination.

Wade, ever the showman, grinned beneath his mask and struck a pose.

“Touché, Logan,” he said with a wink. “But I make this work. Not everyone can pull off this level of hotness.”

Logan rolled his eyes, grabbed his pile of clothes, and headed toward the checkout without another word. Wade followed close behind, still grinning like a kid who had just gotten away with something.

A little while later, they found themselves walking through the sunlit car dealership lot. Logan moved with the same deliberate focus he had shown in the clothing store, his eyes scanning the rows of cars with little interest. To him, they all seemed impractical, too flashy for his tastes.

Wade, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement as he raced ahead, his eyes zeroing in on a sleek, cherry-red sports car parked under the sunlight. He darted toward it like a moth to a flame, throwing himself over the hood with a dramatic sigh.

“THIS ONE!” Wade shouted, running his hands over the smooth surface of the car. “This is it! The Wade-mobile! Look at her, Logan—pure power, pure speed. A sexy beast, just like me!”

Logan stood a few paces away, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with mild disdain. He shook his head, his voice flat and unimpressed.

“You look like an idiot,” Logan said.

Without hesitation, he walked over and grabbed Wade by the back of his collar, yanking him off the car with a gruff grunt. Wade stumbled, barely managing to stay upright as Logan dragged him away, heading straight for the section of the lot where the used pickup trucks were parked.

“Come on, man, live a little!” Wade complained, rubbing the back of his neck as he followed Logan. “We’ve got all this cash, and you’re going for a pickup truck? You’re not a soccer mom.”

Logan’s eyes landed on an old, battered truck with faded paint and a few dings in the side. It looked sturdy, reliable—just the way he liked things. He opened the driver’s side door, inspecting the interior with a thoughtful grunt. The worn leather seats, the lack of fancy electronics—everything about it spoke to him.

“I don’t buy what I don’t need,” Logan said, running his hand over the dashboard. “This has enough room, no fancy electronics. Just how I like it.”

Wade looked utterly flabbergasted, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“But… sports cars! Leather seats! Bluetooth everything! Cup holders that hold more cups than you could ever drink from!”

Logan gave him a flat look.

“This does the job. I’m not gonna buy something I’ll hate driving,” Logan said, his tone final.

Wade slumped against the truck, his head hanging in defeat.

“You’re like… an old man stuck in a body that’s technically old but still kinda jacked,” Wade muttered, sulking. “It’s such a waste. This truck screams 'I live in a cabin and don’t talk to people.'”

Logan ignored him and went into the building to buy the car. Wade waited outside, shooting the sports car longing looks. After a while his partner came back.

Logan climbed into the driver’s seat, his movements efficient and calm. The truck’s engine growled to life with a low, rumbling purr, and Logan smirked just a little as he looked over at Wade.

With a resigned sigh, Wade hopped into the passenger seat, his pink Hello Kitty shirt standing out like a sore thumb against the muted, rugged interior of the truck.

“You and your cabin-man aesthetic… Whatever,” Wade muttered, leaning back in his seat. “Just know, when I get my sports car, you’re driving behind me. And I’ll make sure it’s painted Wolverine yellow, just for you.”

Logan didn’t bother responding, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he pulled out of the lot, the old truck rumbling steadily beneath them. Wade, never one to be silent for long, leaned over conspiratorially.

“Next stop, Taco Bell? My treat,” Wade offered.

Logan remained silent, eyes on the road, but Wade took it as a yes.

“That’s the Logan I know and tolerate,” Wade said with a grin.

As they rumbled down the road in the beat-up old truck, Wade continued to chatter away about the missed opportunity of getting a sports car, but Logan was content. Simple, reliable—that’s all he needed. And maybe, just maybe, some peace and quiet.

But with Wade sitting beside him, that last part was a long shot.

#hugh jackman #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #ryan reynolds #poolverine #deadclaws #fanfiction #domesticated logan #practical logan #no nonsense logan #that's just how he is #wouldn't buy expensive stuff if he was rich

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just-dreaming-marvel · 9 days ago

Text

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 39

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,885ish

Summary: You don't leave El Paso. You and Logan begin to interact more.

Warning(s): bars, drunk men, tears, heartbreak

Notes: Well, let's see how this goes... I promise they'll stop walking away from each other. The next chapter will have more of the Logan movie.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You couldn’t get yourself to leave El Paso, not yet, anyway. You were still angry at Logan, but you could see the pain he was in, and you couldn’t walk away completely from him. You found yourself a motel room to stay for a while. The first night, your dreams were full of Logan. All the happy memories that now only made your heart break further. When you woke, you were crying. Your right hand went to your left to play with your wedding ring, only for you to find that it was no longer there.

Without a care to how you looked, you rushed out of your room and sped to the diner. You frantically searched through the dirt for your ring. Tears fell into the dirt as you failed to find it. You went into the diner and up to one of the waitresses behind the counter.

“Has anyone turned in a wedding ring?” You asked.

“No, sorry, dear,” she responded. “Haven’t seen one.”

You nodded and walked out. You stared at the area where you and Logan had words just hours before. It had already felt like your whole relationship was slipping through your fingers; now, you didn’t even have your ring. You didn’t have Logan’s dog tags either, having lost them years ago. All you were left with were your memories, but even they were tainted under this haze of darkness that the two of you were experiencing. With a shaky breath, you walked back to your car.

You failed to notice a familiar pair of hazel eyes following you. Logan sat in his limo, parked across the street, as you got back into your car. It didn’t shock him that you had stayed in town. His large, rough right hand opened up to reveal your wedding ring sitting in the palm of it. He maneuvered it to move it from finger to finger as he watched you drive away.

Logan remembered that you had thrown your ring between the two of you after a long night of work. He couldn’t bear the thought of it sitting in the dirt. The ring was too important and symbolized too much. So he grabbed it before anyone else could. Logan pressed the ring to his chest, where burns were still healing from your attack the previous day. This was the first time your burns ever hurt him like this. But he did not hold any blame toward you. You had every right to attack him the way you did. Logan believed he deserved every bit of your anger and hatred.

~~~

That night, you decided to go to the nearby bar. Not to stalk Logan, but to get yourself a drink. You were three drinks in when a man slid into the seat beside you.

“Hey, pretty lady,” his words slurred together. He leaned in closer, allowing you to smell his breath and body odor. “You new in town? I haven’t ever seen you around here.”

“Just passing through,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on your glass as your finger ran circles around the rim.

“Well, wanna pass through my way?”

“I’m…”

The word ‘married’ sat on your tongue, but you couldn’t get yourself to say it. Your eyes shifted over to the finger on your left hand that once proudly carried your ring. Logan had reminded you that you weren’t actually married, so could you really use that as an excuse?

“I’m not interested,” you said instead.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he moved closer, placing a hand on your back. “Give me a chance.”

You studied the man out of the corner of your eye. In all honesty, if he didn’t sink and looked a little better, you might have taken him up on the offer. But not tonight. You wanted to be alone.

“I’m good.”

You finished off your drink before throwing some cash down on the bar. You headed out of the bar, trying to ignore the fact that the man was following. Having walked to the bar, you knew that it was too dangerous to head there if the man followed you. You couldn’t get very far out the door anyway before the man grabbed your wrist and pinned you against the wall.

“It’s not kind to walk away like that,” he slurred.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the man was torn off of you before you could.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Logan snarled, glaring down at the man. He was dropping off a bachelorette party when he saw you exit the bar and the man touch you.

There was a time when you would have been grateful for Logan intervening, but now it only made you angry. As Logan scared the man, you walked away, starting down the street like nothing happened.

“Hey!” Logan called, limping after you. “Y/N! Get in the car.”

You continued walking. “I thought you wanted me to walk away? So let me walk away.” He finally caught up with you, catching your wrist and forcing you to turn around. “Let go of me.” You tried to tug your wrist from his grip, but he only tightened it. “I don’t need your help, Logan. I had it handled.”

“Oh, I know you would have set the man on fire, but that’s too risky.”

“I can be subtle.”

Logan scoffed. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

“No.” You dug your feet into the ground.

“Yes. I’m dropping you off at the airport. You are leaving.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Hell, you reminded me yesterday that you’re not even my husband. Now let go!”

You heated up your arm, forcing Logan to let go with a groan. Logan stuffed his hand in his pocket quickly so that you weren’t able to see the burn and blisters from your heat.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” You questioned.

“I have time to get you to the airport,” he responded.

“Too bad I’m not going to the airport. I’m going back to my motel.”

“Then let me drive you.”

“Oh, so you can trick me into going to the airport? No thanks. Besides, my motel is right here.”

You turned on your heel and continued walking. Logan followed, not willing to let you walk back alone. You ignored him as you reached your motel and walked to the door of your room. Logan looked around, surveying the motel. It clearly wasn’t the best or even safest. He immediately noticed, as you opened the door, that it didn’t even sit right on its hinges, leaving a gap at the bottom.

“This place isn’t safe,” he murmured.

“I can handle myself,” you retorted. “Besides, I don’t have much money. It’s all I can afford.”

“What about the house?”

The house. The one that sat in the Canadian Rockies that the two of you haven’t visited in almost five years.

“Lost it when the government believed you were keeping Charles there… I’ve been on the streets, figuring it out.”

“What?”

“Don’t be so shocked. Where did you think I’d go? The mansion? Without everyone… it wouldn’t be the same. Besides, there are whispers that the government is after me to get to Charles. I’m not safe anywhere. Except on the run and on the streets.” You glanced back at him, the guilt shining in his eyes. You did what you could to make it worse, not caring how childish it was. “Just another promise you failed to keep…. Or, I guess, you chose to break.”

The scene from fifty-five years ago played out in real-time in Logan’s mind. How he had reached out for your hand, begging you to come with him and promising you a bed, clothes, food, and that you’d never be on the streets. Now, here you were… and Logan had to blame himself.

“Y/N…”

“Just go, Logan. I don’t have the energy to deal with this anymore tonight.”

“You shouldn’t be staying here.”

“Well, where are you staying?” Logan looked away, not willing to answer the question. “That’s what I thought.” You walked over to the door. “Goodnight, Logan.”

Logan didn’t move as you shut the door in his face. He stood there for a moment, fighting with himself on whether or not to take you with him. You didn’t deserve this life you were forced into, but it’s not like the smelting plant he, Charles, and his mutant helper, Caliban, were living in was any better. With a sigh, he left, heading back to the bar and his limousine.

~~~

The next night, you found yourself at the bar again, silently hoping that Logan would make an appearance. When you were finished drinking for the night, you left the bar to find Logan leaning against his limo. You decided against talking to him, instead heading for your motel. Logan silently followed, not ever too far behind. He stopped in the parking lot and watched as you slipped into your motel. He stayed until the lights were off, and then he headed back to the limo. This became the routine for the next eight days.

You were about to run out of money. So, instead of going to the bar for the night, you stayed in to go over your options.

Logan was getting worried. You were an hour late in making your appearance outside the bar. With a huff, he walked in and searched the bar for you. Only to not be able to find you. His heart began pounding as he grew concerned. Logan hopped into his limo and drove over to your motel. He couldn’t help but rush over to your door and knock loudly.

“Y/N! Are you in there?” He worried. With furrowed brows, you went over and opened the door. He felt little relief when he saw you standing there. “You weren’t at the bar.”

“I’ve been busy,” you replied with a shrug, not trying to overthink the fact that he was worried about you.

“Are you okay?”

You debated for a moment on whether or not to tell him the truth. “I’m running out of money. I needed to figure out where it was coming from next.”

Logan hated how fast his heart dropped. He had promised to keep you safe from this life, and he had failed. “How much do you need?”

“I’m not taking your money, Logan. I can figure it out just fine.”

“Just tell me how much.”

“No. You can’t swoop in and save the day… Not when you’re the one who wanted this.”

“Y/N—“

“Goodnight, Logan.”

You slammed the door in his face.

~~~

“I know you’ve seen her,” Charles stated as he watered the plants that sat in the tank that he was never allowed to leave.

“Who?” Logan questioned, pretending to be clueless as he readied Charles’ meds.

“Y/N… I don’t understand why you can’t just bring her here.”

“She’s safer out there.”

“Clearly not.”

“She’s fine.”

“Does the reason that you won’t bring her here have anything to do with the reason we’re here?”

“Charles—“

“Y/N and I deserve the truth.”

“Y/N knows the truth.”

“And I don’t?”

“Here.” Logan shoved the medication into Charles’ hand. “Take. Now.” Charles swallowed the pills down quickly. “Open.”

Charles stuck his tongue out and opened his mouth wide to prove to Logan that he’d taken the pills. Once Logan was done, he headed for the door.

“You are miserable, Logan,” Charles stated, causing the man to pause. “She’s miserable, too… Hell, we all are. But the two of you might as well be miserable together.”

“You don’t understand,” Logan muttered.

“You’re correct, I don’t. I don’t understand how you can watch the person you love suffer like the way Y/N is. If you truly love her, you’d make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Get some sleep, Charles.”

~~~

Logan hated that Charles was right, even when his mind was deteriorating. You were not protected or safe as long as you didn’t have a home. You were the only thing on his mind as he finished an Uber ride and headed to the diner to get some food. He sat down in his usual spot and glanced around. He froze as you walked over to him in a waitress's uniform.

“What are you doing?” He wondered.

“Well, hello to you, too, Logan,” you replied. “I needed money. The diner needed another waitress.”

“So, you’re sticking around?”

“Until a better offer comes around, I plan on being here for a long time.”

~~~

Logan made it a new routine to come to the diner for lunch. Sometimes you were working, sometimes you weren’t. When you were there, the two of you would barely talk outside of him ordering food, which he didn’t have to do since you already knew what he liked. Logan would watch with observant eyes at your every movement and interaction. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew you weren’t okay. But he knew that you could tell the same thing about him. The two of you never handled it well, being apart from each other. But, about two weeks after you started the job, Logan could tell that something was weighing you down.

“What’s wrong?” He quietly asked as you set down his food.

“Nothing,” you responded.

“Y/N.” He grabbed your hand. “Talk to me.”

“Let go of me, Logan.”

“Just tell me.”

“Let go.”

You heated up your skin, burning his hand and forcing him to let go. Logan bit back a pained moan as you spun around to take care of another customer. Logan stood up and limped to the restroom, running your hand under the cold sink water. You noticed as Logan exited the restroom and sat back down. You saw that the hand that he had grabbed you with was resting on his lap, palm up. Slowly, you got closer, eyes never leaving his hand. You gasped as you saw the not-healing burn. Logan’s eyes snapped up at your gasp.

“Did I… Did I hurt you?” You questioned. You had never seen something like this happen to Logan. Every burn you had ever caused him had healed. This wasn’t.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Logan told you.

“Oh my gosh… Logan…” You reached down with trembling hands and took his injured hand. “I… I hurt you.”

Logan’s heart cracked as you took the blame for the burn. “It’s not your fault, honey.”

“Yes, it is.” You tugged his arm. “Come with me.”

“Y/N—“

“Come.”

Logan sighed and followed you. You kept a hold of his wrist as you led him through the kitchen and into the small back office. You dropped his wrist before you closed the door and grabbed the first aid kit.

“Sit,” you gently ordered.

Logan didn’t bother fighting, sitting down in the chair. He watched you as you gathered the needed items. You gently took his hand and rested it on the desk. Then you got the burn cream and carefully applied it over the burn. Once it was all covered, you wrapped his hand and pressed a kiss over the wrap. You set Logan’s hand down in his lap before your hands went to his face, holding it delicately. Your thumbs rubbed up against his full gray beard as you studied his face. His wrinkles, his eyes, the tiny scars.

“What’s happening to you, Logan?” You whispered.

Logan’s hands slowly came up to your hips, barely holding you there. “I’m fine, baby.”

“No, you’re not… just tell me what’s wrong… Please.”

Logan’s uninjured hand ran up your side until he was cradling your head in his large palm. He gently guided your head down until your lips were barely not touching. You both closed your eyes as you allowed yourselves to feel the weight of this moment and everything that had happened before this. Logan inhaled sharply when he felt a tear fall to his cheek, and he knew it wasn’t his.

“Please don’t cry, honey,” he quietly begged.

“What’s happened to us?” You cried. “What’s happening?”

As your tears turned into sobs, Logan quickly pulled you into his lap and held you there.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he comforted. “I’m here.”

“But you’re not,” you sobbed. Logan could feel his own tears burning in the back of his eyes. “You left… everyone died… and I… I miss you… I miss you so much it hurts… but it doesn’t matter because you’re just gonna tell me to walk away… and maybe this time I will.”

“Don’t.” The word came out before Logan could stop it. “Don’t walk away… please.”

“You’ve hurt me so much.”

“I know, baby, I know. And I will never forgive myself for any of it, and I don’t ever expect your forgiveness. But don’t leave.”

“Then take me to your home, Logan.”

“I can’t do that, honey. It’s too dangerous.”

“I can handle it.”

“I can’t… Charles isn’t stable, and I can’t find you that way again… You were bleeding so much and unresponsive… I won’t let that happen again.”

“Then I guess there’s my choice.” You pulled yourself away from Logan and stood up. “I have to finish my shift.”

You walked out of the office without another word, leaving Logan wondering if this could ever be fixed.

next chapter >

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