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eupheme · 3 months ago

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— trouble will find me

[part ii | masterlist]

bodyguard!logan x mobster’s daughter!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: 70s era, dofp/bonedaddy!logan, bodyguard!logan, reader is the daughter of a mobster, reader is shorter than Logan, club setting, use of alcohol, cigar smoking, mutual pining, flirting, light brat taming!logan, references to violence, competence kink, semi-public vaginal fingering, kissing, forbidden relationship

a/n: I can’t stop thinking about dofp!logan sleeping with the girl he’s guarding, this is inspired by that scene! huge thank you to @pr0ximamidnight who let me chit chat about this little idea. you are amazing! 💖💕

His eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip, “‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You hum, “But what if I want a little in me?”

You can feel his eyes follow you.

Which shouldn’t really be surprising. It's his job, of course. Keep an eye on you, keep you safe.

But there’s something in the way he watches.

A curl of smoke from a lit cigar. Fingers tracing the rim of a half-downed whisky, a worn leather jacket thrown over a broad shoulder. The tilt of his chin when your eyes meet his - dark and narrowed, missing nothing. Slipping over you like the soft silk of your dress.

Indulging, almost. Unashamed.

You might have a crush.

You're trying not to think about it too much.

Tonight, you're just trying to enjoy the after-party.

It's all bright lights.

The room is bathed in pinks and yellows and flashing red. Disco club music pumped through the speakers, the panels of the floor flickering to the beat. You've been here for two hours already. Nursing tequila sunrises and pink squirrels. Sweat sticking to the nape of your neck, as the minutes tick by, bleeding past midnight.

He's not going to stop you, just yet. You can have your fun tonight - sway to the beat of the music - as long as you play by the rules.

Logan is so different from the ones before him.

Tripping over their feet to check on you. Breathing down your neck, with their padded-shoulder suits smelling like cigarettes and cheap cologne. Too afraid for themselves, of your father, to actually do a good job of protecting you.

Stifling and all too willing to tell you yes to anything.

It was exhausting.

Logan had come recommended - an acquaintance of a friend. He'd 'get the job done' from what you heard. Motivated. Needed the cash and would listen, no questions asked.

Just the type your father thought he could sway - a half-wild guard dog, his salary a leash. Heeling at the click of a tongue, the snap of fingers.

It's not how you saw him, though.

His silence was not obedience. There was nothing bought about this man - watching you from the line of leather booths along the wall.

You've wondered if maybe - you're just desperate to find some form of kindred spirit in someone. Too used to feeling like an accessory instead of a person. Your appearance at your father's events drove home his image. The good, family man who was oh so generous with his time and money.

Articles were written weekly about how philanthropic he was.

You had no idea if anything ever came from the numerous events you hosted - an attempt at doing something with your education. How much was skimmed off your blood, sweat, and tears, funneled back into what he did best.

Maybe you both saw through the bullshit.

He'll last longer than the others, at least.

More than once you've been halfway out the door, headed off to East Village or SoHo, only for him to catch you by the scruff of your sweater - whisking you back inside or into the Lincoln Town Car before you realized what happened.

An angry fist connecting with the nose of a man who had gotten too close at a gala last week. Cornering you in the coat room. Logan, charging in like a snarling beast when you had whimpered his name - red dripping down to stain the pressed white collar as the man was hauled away.

You’ve been thinking about that for days.

There was no sucking up. No flashing of a holster under his arm, some grandiose promise that you don't need to worry. You've never even seen Logan near a weapon but somehow, you feel more safe with him than you ever have with anyone else.

But this bit of internal tenderness that has sprouted, paired with his competency, has been seriously cramping your style.

It’s been enough that he's been hard to get out of your mind. Two weeks of teasing and poking at the limits set. Never giving you much, with that glare - thick arms crossed over his chest. A little thrill rippling up your spine, when his voice goes low and gruff.

The lights go dim, as the music begins to slow.

With the way your eyes wander, you know he sees you when you pick up a partner.

A man that moves with you, peeling off to crowd your space after your hips swivel with the hustle. His hand dipping low from where it rests on the small of your back.

Bold, when he bends to ask you 'if you'd like to get out of there'.

You meet Logan's eyes when you tell him yes.

Telling yourself that it's just to forget him. Definitely not because you're desperate to see the look on his face. To hear that tone he takes when he's pissed off.

A way to ascertain if you've taken root in his mind, even for just a moment.

There's zero chance Logan heard you from across the room. But it doesn't stop him from moving. Pushing to his feet, cutting straight through the crowd to wrap a hand around your bicep the second you start peeling off with the stranger - heading towards the side door.

"No fucking chance." It's gritted out, as he yanks you to him. Your shoulder collides against his chest as he steps between you and the man.

A sloppy hand pushes against his arm. The man's eyes are hazy under the neon lights as he makes a grab for you.

"Come on, man. I saw her first."

Logan pivots you away with a snarl, "She ain't leaving with you, bub."

Another sloppy shove, glancing off the brown leather jacket.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Logan's tone drips with warning, with knowing, "Gonna regret starting something in a room full of people like this."

And it's now that he takes in how big Logan is. The flex of splayed-wide fingers, knuckles curling into a clenched fist. A look in his eye that says that punches won't be pulled - not tonight.

The stranger takes a step back. It's enough.

You're already getting hauled away before they can answer. Guided into one of the many VIP rooms. A snarled "get the fuck out of here" to the attendant, before Logan's crowding you against the bar - hands bracing on his hips.

Fuming, you push yourself up to sit on the top - an attempt to get closer to his height.

"What was that about?" Your chin lifts, as your arms cross.

His eyes flash - a curl of his lip, "Can't you make my job easy, kid?"

Kid. It always makes you bristle. So far from that, and it's the way he says it. That dripping edge, like he knows something you don't.

"Maybe he was a friend." You deadpan.

"Yeah. Real friendly," He scoffs, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, "You think your daddy is gonna like you going home with a piece of shit like that?"

That makes your teeth clench - a glare sent his way, "I don't think it's any of your business."

"It's literally my business, sweetheart." Logan huffs. His hands curl around the edge of the bar, braced on either side of your knees.

Your breathing hitches, for just a second. The soft name is ground out between his teeth, but it still shoots straight to your pussy.

You haven't been this close to him before. Enough to see the bleed of brown to green in his hazel eyes. The sharp mark between his brows that you want to press your thumb against.

The shorn-down hair at his chin, before it grows thick across his cheeks. Handsome in a way that makes you ache, your fingers curling into fists to keep from touching him.

There's been moments alone - car rides, lounging in the armchair in the corner of your room when he barks at you to hurry up.

But it hasn't been like this.

Maybe it's the opportunity. Maybe it's the amber glitter of tequila in your veins, but you let your palms press against the shining wood. Your knees inch a little further apart, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs.

"That the only reason you whisked me away?” Your eyebrow lifts, "Kidnapping, if I recall, is one of the things you're supposed to be keeping me safe from."

"You are safe." He deflects, "'s not kidnapping when it's me.”

Those eyes are still on yours. Not dropping to where his hips nearly press against the edge of the bar top.

You break the eye contact first.

“Well, it’s fine.” You sniff - as if his actions had been your idea, “I didn’t want him anyways.”

Logan grunts. There’s the slightest brush - the flex of his thumb at your thigh, where your dress rides up. A long look before he’s pushing back to step away, but your fingers reach out, catching on his white shirt.

“Are you going to ask me what I do want?”

There’s the slightest twitch of his nose. Lips parting to show the peek of a tongue, caught between teeth. The briefest dip of his eyes. Down to the shadow between your breasts, pressed together as you lean forward to catch him.

“I know what you want, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Not gonna happen.”

The rejection stings, and you pout, “What isn’t?”

A sigh, and he’s stepping back into your space. Your hand flattens against his stomach, hard muscles beneath as his head tilts.

“You want a man to take you home. Treat you nice.” Logan’s eyes burn into you. Wide hands curving around your knees, thumbs pressing into flesh, “I’m not that guy.”

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. How it thunders to the beat of the music muted outside this room. Dropping down to pulse between your thighs.

Wondering if he’s thought about you, the way you have him. How he could both see and miss so much at once.

“You’re wrong,” Your head shakes, “I don’t want that.”

A breath, before you’re confessing, ”I want you.”

Logan's eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip.

“‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You echo, “But what if I want a little trouble in me?”

The smile you give him is sweet, a tilt of your head as he catches your hand. Thick fingers curl at your wrist, holding your hand in place. A thumb pressed up against your pulse.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.” He rasps, voice low.

You’re undeterred.

“Could get on my knees.” You coo, “You could show me. Would you like that?”

Logan’s jaw grits. His grip loosens just long enough to feel your wrist flex - before he guides your hands, pressing your palms flat against the polished wood.

“It’s not going like that,” He husks. The tone is the same as when he’s ordering you around, one that makes your back go straight, “Those are staying right there. Got that, honey?”

All you can do is nod, as his hands skate up your thighs. Fingers massaging into flesh, soft and smooth as he eases them wider apart. Fitting himself closer between them.

The way he looks at you now is the way he did before.

Focused, as your dress inches higher. The fabric pooling at your hips as they tilt toward him, the pretty lace between your thighs now on display.

“Look at you,” His tongue clucks. A finger tracing the elastic edge, as you clench in anticipation, “Need this, don’t you?”

Drifting across, a thumb pressing against the fabric. It sends a jolt through you, your fingers almost reaching for him before you remember.

“Good girl.” He muses, as your hands flatten again.

The slightest pressure as the pad of his thumb slips up. Nudging against your clothed clit, as you inhale a sharp breath.

Pressing, and circling. It’s agonizingly slow, his eyes flicking up to watch the way you bite back a whimper. Your hips flexing into his touch, aching for more.

It lifts, so he can see how the fabric has dampened. Clinging to your skin, his knuckle tracing your seam.

“Making a mess.”

You can only whine in reply. Afraid that he’ll stop if you make too much noise. If you move - he’s made it clear he’s in charge here, and for once you’re willing to follow.

The pad of his thumb pulling back, a faint shine in the neon-bathed room.

“That for me?”

Your head nods, “Logan, please-”

There’s a sharp flash of teeth. Fingers pressing low, fitting against you, “You want me here?”

“Yes.”

You need him. Need anything he’ll give you, the sharp pinch in your palms where your nails bite into flesh.

“Ask me.” He coos.

“Please put use your fingers,” It comes in a rush, “Want you in me-”

Logan smirks, as his fingers slip beneath the waistband. Air sucked through clenched teeth when he meets slick, soaked skin. A teasing swirl against your clit before he’s parting you.

The tip of his middle finger tracing your hole, before it dips inside. His hips flex against the wooden edge, when you clench around him immediately. Trying to draw him deeper, as he works himself further in.

His fingers are much thicker than yours. A second already tracing where he opens you up. Teasing the tip in as his hand flexes, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.

Your head tips forward. Each breath growing shorter, as you’re stretched around him. That slight ache unfurling into pleasure. Panting, as the pump of his fingers grow louder - the muffled cadence of skin against skin each time his palm collides with your cunt.

The fabric strains against his hand, his knuckles pressed against the soaked fabric.

Something bright burns in your belly, as your knees press into his hips. It makes you break the rules - a hand grasping at his arm. Anchoring yourself with your grip.

“I wanna watch. Let me see you.”

He lets you. A tap against your hip so you can lift. Carefully pulling your underwear down, easing them over the heels of your boots.

The lace disappears into his jacket pocket. His palms against your inner thighs, spreading you open. A throaty groan when he sees you, one that he can't quite manage to bite back - the rough sound shooting straight through you.

You both watch, when his fingers fit inside you this time. Two sinking down to the knuckle, slick and shining.

Unable to bite back the moan this time, though he does not shush you. His eyes fixed on your face instead, watching how your brow pinches when his fingers crook deep inside you. Searching.

The way you go jolt and then go tense when he finds it, a soft cry loosening.

“You been fucked like this before?” Logan growls, his fingers dragging against that soft spot inside you with his emphasis.

Your head shakes, when he does it again. Eyes dropping to watch his how hand looks, how you wrap around his fingers. The slick shine as they pump a little faster.

His other hand taps against your thigh.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“No,” It comes out hushed. Needy. “Never.”

His lips part with his groan, baring his teeth. With the way he touches you - his thumb moving to rub circles against your clit - it’s not long before he has you close.

A swiftly building pressure in your belly. That space between you eases as your knees close around his hips. His head tilting until his nose ghosts against your cheek.

Breath hot against your neck, as he inhales you. The slightest scrape of teeth that makes you bear down on his fingers - so careful not to leave a mark behind.

“Logan,” You pant. “That feels, ah, I think I’m gonna come-”

He groans against your skin, keeping the same pace. Feeling how you forget yourself - grasping at him, arching into his touch. Your muscles going tight as your breath grows short - panting.

“Give it to me,” Logan growls, “Come on my fucking fingers, baby.”

It’s impossible not to listen. You come, with his thumb pressing against your clit. His fingers notched deep inside you, as he feels your pulse racing beneath his lips.

The moan that rips from you pitches up, and then goes silent.

It leaves you breathless. Deep waves throbbing inside you, as you dampen his palm. Washing over and pulling you under, as your vision darkens.

“That’s fucking it. Come on, honey.” He coos, “Just look at you, so fucking pretty.”

The pump of his fingers goes still, the tips still crooking, as the tight pulses wane. The air comes rushing back into your lungs as you come back to yourself, your hands fisted in his jacket.

His chest heaves. Eyes hungry, when he slips from you. Slick clinging to them, webbing between his fingers as he pulls them up to the light.

Before he’s focusing on you again, his other hand thumbing at your lip.

“Open.”

They part automatically. Closing around the fingers he feeds you. The salt of his skin pairing with the sweet tang of your release, too blissed out to do anything but suck them clean.

“Good girl.”

It’s soft, as his fingers press down. Spreading, until you’ve cleaned yourself from them. Only when they slip from you, does his head dip.

A soft sound as his mouth presses against yours. There’s the sweep of his tongue against your lip, needy and insistent. You part for him, swallowing the moan as he tastes you. Teeth and tongue - deepening the kiss as his hands grip at your waist.

Letting your hands grasp at his shoulders. Tug at his hair until you’re pulled flush against him, your tits crushed against his chest.

Hungry, threatening to devour you, until you mumble his name.

Bringing him back to himself. Sharing a breath, Logan’s forehead pressed to yours when he pulls back. Those spit-slick fingers dropping down.

Palming himself roughly, where his cock strains - thick and hard against his jeans. A bitten-back groan, the word “fuck” rumbling deep in his chest as his hips flex into his hand.

“You going to listen now? Get that out of your system?” It comes out ragged, and you’re nodding.

All your sharp edges smoothed down. Blissfully complacent, as his fingers get a better grip on your waist. Bringing you down to the floor with wobbly legs, his hand coming to grasp at your upper arm.

“Good.” He growls, “Come on.”

A sharp tug, and you almost trip over yourself to follow.

“I’m taking you home.”

ahh I had the idea for this and had to jot it down! and I do know he goes by james/jimmy in the 70s because it’s pre-weapon-x, but I'll be keeping it as logan for this. (And I am thinking this will be a two-shot - give her a chance to get what she wants 😏💖)

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader

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nanivinsmoke · 3 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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willyoubemycherryy · 2 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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shybluebirdninja · 1 month 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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thealbatrovss · 2 months ago

Text

snow angel // wolverine 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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maybe-im-dark · 1 month ago

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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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mecachrome · 10 months ago

Text

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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sweetladymoon · 1 month ago

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I was so happy to read your explanation on Lando and Oscar, tysm!! 🥰✨🌸 can you explain to me what is going on with Logan Sargeant? I may have no idea who that is but i am very interested in The Tea, and i am always happy to defend someone who deseves it lol

Have a great day!! 🌸✨💙💙

Oh absolutely I can! This is gonna be a long one so grab a snack!🤭💗🫶

Logan Sargeant is a driver that a lot of people had really great expectations for. He excelled in the feeder series (F4,F3, F2, basically the series you drive in before you get into F1, even though driving in these series does not mean you are guaranteed a seat in F1). Logan was very close to winning the F3 championship and was also the first American to ever win a F2 race. Here’s a link to a Twitter thread about his junior racing career in case you’re interested in details:

He was driving for the Williams Academy at the time and in 2023 he got promoted to a F1 Seat with Williams. Many people question if he was taken out of F2 too soon and tbh I do think so. He could have used some more experience and maybe then we would have seen a different F1 career from him.

As a side note: Williams is not a top team. They used to be really good in the 80s and 90s and even won the Constructors Championship 9 times in total but had a bit of a fall off since then. The biggest issue for them is money. They don’t have the same kind of cash as the top teams which means they can’t develop their car at the same speed as other teams and also can’t upgrade it as regularly. They’re not fighting for wins or even podiums at the moment but mere points. Logan’s rookie season wasn’t great tbh. He made mistakes, he crashed and was also a bit unlucky throughout the season. At the end, he managed to score only 1 point which brought him to the bottom of the driver’s standings (with that 1 point he also became the first American driver to score points in F1 in 30 years though…so small wins I guess).

He got a lot of backlash from the fans and media and many wanted to see him gone from the sport. Williams however decided to keep him around for 2024. His fans hoped that this season would go better than the last and that he’d finally be able to prove his worth, but it was evident from very early on that Williams didn’t care that much about him and wouldn’t keep him around for 2025 no matter what he did. The team principal, James Vowles, played a big part in this. He kept badmouthing Logan to the media and, according to Logan, also did not give him feedback after races. Vowles would praise Logan’s teammate Alex Albon and then go on to talk about how if Logan wanted to keep his seat he would have to start performing in a similar matter which was unfair for many reasons. For one, Alex has been in F1 longer and has far more experience. Secondly, they weren’t even driving equal cars for most of the season. The 2024 season so far has been all that good. The car was pretty bad, but Logan’s in particular was nothing more than a glorified shopping cart. They couldn’t afford to update both cars, so they gave Alex the better car while Logan drove a car that was overweight and used spare parts from the previous season. However, JV never communicated this clearly when talking to the media, so a lot of people just believed that Logan was underperforming.

And tbh even when Logan was driving the inferior car he was not that far off from Alex’s times, so JV’s comments were also quite unnecessary. They started having equal cars from Silverstone (12th race of the season) on and Logan managed to finish P11 which is still outside of the points but was a huge improvement from previous races. But even that didn’t impress JV and that point everyone had kind of already accepted that he would be no longer on the grid the following year. Personally, I suspected as much since the race in Melbourne (3rd race). When Alex crashed his car during a practice session, Williams couldn’t repair the car because they didn’t bring a spare chassis. They knew they could only compete with one car and decided to give Logan’s car to Alex for the weekend, which was quite unfair of course seeing as Logan didn’t make a mistake and still had to suffer. It also showed that Williams and JV in particular had no faith in Logan’s abilities at all.

During the summer break it was announced that Logan would be replaced the following season, which didn’t surprise anyone but we thought we’d at least get to see him finish out the season…well we didn’t. He returned for a single race after the break. During a rainy practice session, he lost control of the car and had a really nasty crash. The car was a wreck and even caught fire. Logan was thankfully okay but had to start the race the following day from the back of the grid. He once again didn’t score points but I still think Zandvoort was one of his most impressive races still. Two days later, it was announced that he would be replaced for the rest of the season.

Many thought the crash and the cost that came with repairing the car afterwards were the reason for letting him go early but JV pretty much said that this wasn’t factored into the decision. They fired him because they thought they finally had managed to bring the car to a level for points to be a possibility and they didn’t believe that Logan had the ability to score any…which once again must’ve felt like a slap in the face for Logan.

They replaced him with Franco Colapinto who had until that point still driven in F2. Many questioned the decision of replacing an inexperienced driver with an even more inexperienced driver, especially because Williams’ aim was to fight for points. Alex expressed his sympathies when asked about the decision. He also made sure to point out that he thinks Logan is incredibly talented, has the pace, and will succeed in whatever he’s going to do next. (Here's also the lovely goodbye post he made) Oscar who was his teammate in F3 and drove against him in F2 also talked about how Logan could never show his true potential in F1 and how he is one of the quickest guys he ever drove against.

JV on the other hand talked about how he thinks Logan has reached his potential and basically said that he’s not good enough which is just a shit thing to do. You already fired him, what more do you want? JV has been acting highly unprofessional in many regards btw and so many comments he’s made (also about other drivers and situations) have been plain weird.

Franco has been doing really well. He even managed to score 4 point in his second F1 race in Baku, which was also the first race of the season in which both Williams cars scored points. Instead of just focusing on how good he’s doing for a rookie however, everyone keeps comparing him to Logan. Fans, media, even the commentators during the race keep bringing up Logan and how much worse he did compared to Franco without acknowledging that they never drove the same car. We’ll never know how Logan would have done in this version of the Williams, just like we’ll never know how Franco would have done in the earlier part of the season when the car was still shit. The comments are just unnecessary. You can compliment and praise a driver without dragging another driver’s name through the mud.

Logan has been pretty quiet since he got fired. There was a statement posted on his app but it got deleted soon after. We know he’s currently in the US with his girlfriend, friends and family which I’m relieved about. He looked really down in so many of his interviews. I can’t imagine the strain it must have taken on his mental health to not only have the media and fans against you but to also have your team (aka the people who are supposed to support you) talk about how disappointing your performance is. While I do miss him on the grid I’m almost glad he was able to leave this toxic environment behind.

He was spotted at the last IndyCar race of the season in Nashville that he was invited to by his best friend who drives for Andretti. There have been rumours all year if he might join IndyCar as well next season. Yesterday it was announced that he’ll do a test drive with Meyer Shank Racing in November. While they have no more available seats for next season, it will still be an opportunity for him to showcase his abilities and might open up some doors with other teams who are still looking for drivers to sign. A few haters have once again spouted bullshit and tried shit talking him but I’m just trying to be optimistic and hope that the whole IndyCar business will work out for him and that he’ll find a team who’s willing to support him the way he deserves.

I hope I didn’t bore you to death but that’s pretty much all there is to the whole Logan situation.😅 After all the unfair treatment and hate he’s been subjected to his fans have become even more protective of him. Also look at him. How could anyone be mean to this guy🤧:

#i'm always happy to yap about logan #f1 #logan sargeant #ask #tasteofsummersnow

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years ago

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shut up and drive // lando norris ( street racing au!)

summary: headcanons i wrote after watching the fast and the furious movies . . . enough said. lando is infatuated with the woman in the pink mustang who kicks his ass in a bristol street race.

pairing: street racer!lando norris x street racer! reader

the bristol street racing scene is intense

its run by a young blonde american using daddy's money to have a little bit of extra fun

and as far as everybody is concerned, the quadrant street racing team own the circuit, they're the undisputed champions

max fewtrell, ria bish and lando norris.

lando has been the reigning champion for three years running

he’s made over a billion british pounds via street racing

until y/n y/l/n appears on the scene

beating pierre gasly in her rookie race and winning five grand

and lando is intrigued, like any man would be

her hot pink mustang meanders into the clearing, bright spot lights shining down as she stops next to max fewtrells lime green maserati

“is that her?” lando asks quietly, watching the drivers side door creep open

she steps out, wearing white cowboy boots and skin-tight blue jeans, a shirt emblazoned in an old print of a chevy corvette tied up to show off her stomach, a small diamond glittering in her navel

heart shaped sunglasses over her eyes that she pushes up on to her forehead as she pulls a wad of cash from the pocket of her leather jacket

“oi sargeant, it’s not too late to cut a girl in, is it?”

logan grins, counting the cash she handed him as entry payment. “cutoff is in ten minutes, you made it just in time.”

"good. now, which of your boys wants to get his ass kicked next?"

pierre throws his hands up in surrender when logan shoots him a joking look.

"she wiped the floor with me last week, mate. i took one for the team."

"any takers?" logan proclaims, moving to stand on the roof of his mercedes

lando and max exchange a look before ria hits them both in the back of the head

"don't be stupid. either of you. if you get far enough tonight, you'll be racing for pinks." she scolds

"its not about the cars, ria. it's about the chase." lando grins, patting the hood of his mclaren before moving into the wider, open space near where y/n was standing

"i'll do it! i'll race you. what's the pot at, sargeant?"

logan grins. "let's see, you're a seasoned veteran, and she wiped the floor with gasly. how does seven grand sound?"

y/n grins, twirling her car keys in one hand. "what do you say, norris? american muscle up against whatever the fuck that euro-car you're driving is?"

"it's a good couple hundred horsepower, sweetheart. are you sure your poor old ford can handle it?"

"bring it on, toy boy."

they get behind the wheels of their cars, revving engines and showboating as lando's mclaren and her mustang draw side by side

"enough with the women dropping their bras to start a race, it's archaic!" y/n shouts, tapping her manicured nails against her glittery gear shift. 'give me a toy boy dropping his shirt to the ground, once i see some abs, that will really get this car moving!"

"give the lady what she wants!" ria shouts, clapping her hands together as max rolls his eyes

with a laugh and a grin, george russell steps out into the middle of the interlock road, fingers deftly unbuttoning his linen shirt

"now we're talking!" y/n shouts with a laugh and a grin, shooting lando a look out the corner of her eye

there was something sexy about what they were about to do

the cat and mouse game of a street race worth as much as this one was

and lando norris would be the first to admit that he was incredibly turned on by the idea of woman who drove a car as magnificent as the one parked next to him

a woman who spoke his language

"ready!" george shouts, shirt almost fully undone as women begin to cheer and whistle

"ready to lose, princess?" lando smirks, revving his engine as he grins at the driver next to him.

"ready to kick your ass, you mean." she grins back, toeing her boot-clad foot against the accelerator

"set!" the shirt his off george's body now, his arm raised in the air as he waves the white fabric in the air, toying with the minds of the two drivers in front of them

it was just a reflex game now

"go!" george shouts, throwing his shirt to the ground

the drivers are off in a flash, their fluorescent cars flying off into the night

her wrist moves deftly with the gearshift, shifting gears as she watched the speedometer sail over 100kmph as she takes the corner, shifting gears and yanking at the handbrake

she sails around the corner a fraction of a second faster than lando, winking at him as their windows line up, eyes meeting for a fraction of a second

and that's when lando knows that he's in love

righting their cars, lando less than half a second behind her but still not fast enough

they're neck and neck approaching the finish line, right across from where they started

she's watching his every movement carefully

biding her time until it's time to open that little canister of nos

she knows lando's too smart to use it too soon, so she just needs to hope that she presses that little red button faster than he can

she presses it quickly, both hands gripping the wheel as the speed throws her head against the headrest, hair whipping around her face

there's a gap of zero point four five seconds as she sails across the chalk-drawn finish line, yanking the handbrake and swerving to a stop

sitting with her body half out of the window, her ass resting where the wound-down window his

cheering as she drums her hands against the roof

lando comes to a much slower stop next to her

he's not even mad about losing

a glow in his eyes as he steps out of the mclaren

hands in jeans pockets as he ambles towards her

"impressive drive, sweetheart."

"yeah, it earned me seven grand." she grins, clambering out of the car. "your loss."

"seven grand is nothing. all i ask for in exchange is dinner."

y/n grins, reaching to shake his hand. "and if i say no?"

"then i'll have to get a rematch next week. and the week after until you say yes."

"i wouldn't be a very good rival if i ended up in your bed."

"well, you know what they say." lando grins seductively. "keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

she runs her tongue over her lips, eyebrows raised as she starts backing away towards everyone who's cheering her on,

"i'll see you next week, norris. we'll meet in the winner's bed."

and lando has never been so turned on in his life

he's also never looked forward to losing a race more.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris headcanons #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 headcanons #f1 imagine

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fartlovingblkguy69 · 9 months ago

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A Flight to be Remembered (Part 1)

Tim is a 6’3, black, openly gay, formerly athletic, handsome guy with a little extra now that he was 5 years out of college and had stopped working out and started drinking a bit more. He’s a flight attendant who lives in Atlanta, where the airline was headquartered. He had sworn to himself that he would only do this job for a year or two until he found something better, a cushy government job, but things hadn’t panned out that way and it was 5 years later. He was currently being yelled at by a 35 year old, 5’11, in shape man who wanted someone to wait on him hand and foot, including grabbing his luggage for him and bringing it to his waiting UberX. Tim was hoping to get a tip since what he got paid for this flight would barely be enough to make ends meet and he needed some extra cash, so he graciously brought the man’s luggage to the car, making their way together through the airport and accepting the man’s endless flirting and bragging about how well his new start up was doing and that he paid his workers well, but worked them to the bone! After Tim loaded the man’s luggage into the car he waited expectantly, only to be pushed aside and told “Thanks! Have a great day!” as the man slid into the back of the car without another word or glance at Tim. Tim was furious and had had just about enough of these spoiled, entitled passengers! This was way above and beyond and a mere thanks would not do this time! “Aren’t you going to tip me? You do realize that was not in the job description, right?” “What, you want a tip for making a high paying passenger feel accommodated? That’s a pretty low bar to expect compensation. No, I don’t think so! You’ll have to do a lot more to earn money from me! And I know just the way to start!” the man said while staring at Tim’s big, round ass. There was a wild look of lust in his eyes and a bulge in his pants. Tim hoped this meant he would get a bigger tip, but the man was dead set on waiting. He made Tim come back to his hotel room, saying his wallet was in his suitcase and groping Tim’s bubble butt while they were in the elevator. When they got there he immediately demanded a blowjob: “My name is Josh. You can call me Mr. Logan, Sir, or Daddy. Now, if you want a tip, you will give me whatever I want. For example, I want a blowjob. Get my dick clean too! I haven’t been able to shower in 24 hours! Get any cheese you find on it and open wide while I fuck your pathetic face! Then maybe you’ll get $5 out of me!” Tim was seething and asked “Sure thing Mr. Logan! Could I just use your restroom quickly?” with the best fake smile he could muster. As soon as he got into the bathroom he turned on the overhead vent and covered him mouth with his arm so that could scream and get his frustration out! While he does this, he feels his stomach gurgle a bit harshly. He slides his slacks and underwear down and sits on the cold toilet seat, inspecting the light skids on his underwear, wishing he didn’t feel so cold! He rubbed his stomach, trying to massage the gas that was trapped in there, wishing he hadn’t ate all that mac and cheese on his break. He was lactose intolerant, but he loved cheese so much! His stomach would be killing him in a bit though! Then he got an idea! He pulled his slacks off and jumped in the shower, washing himself off real good, with sweet fruit scented soap. After he was done, he toweled off and removed his belt from his slacks before walking out to find Mr. Logan sitting on the bed naked. Perfect! Now I just have to get him to trust me and then he’s all mine, he thought! He pushes Mr. Logan down so he’s lying back and begins to suck his short, but somewhat fat dick, making sure to clean it as he went. It tastes disgusting, but at least he wasn’t the only one about to broaden their tastes. His stomach gurgled quietly, letting him know he needed to move quickly. He began to lick down Mr. Logan’s taint toward his hole, giving him a light rimjob, before telling him to flip over so he could get in there deeper.

#male farts #face farts #fart kink #gassy farts #gay shit #im lactose intolerant #human toilet #hairy male

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year ago

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Midnight | Chapter 6 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - you spend the night in West Virginia, in which you find yourself in a slightly awkward situation. When you move on to a small town in Illinois, you make a decision that could end up being your downfall, while Spencer tries to take his mind off his growing attraction towards you.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - blood, murder, masturbation (male), slight voyeurism, slightly aggressive Spencer, swearing, drinking, making out, tears.

WC - 5k

Chapter Six - Raise No Fool

Logan, West Virginia was, by all accounts, an exceptionally boring place. There was nothing particularly interesting about it, aside from maybe its proximity to the Appalachian Mountains.

The town boasted two restaurants, Morrison’s Drive In with its “world famous” hot dogs or Chirico’s Ristorante, a family owned Italian joint which was where you and Spencer had eaten dinner upon arrival in town. Shopping was just as sparse as was any other kind of activity in these parts. But you supposed you weren’t here for a vacation.

The Chapmanville Inn, the fifty bucks a night motel Spencer had picked out was cheap but certainly not cheerful. The old building had definitely seen better days, a lick of paint would have gone a long way. Then again, knocking it down entirely and starting over again would have gone further.

The room was smaller than your already pokey living room at home. It had twin beds, a wobbly table with a single chair you wouldn't think out of place in an elementary school, a stained blue carpet and little else. At the very least your room had its own bathroom, worryingly not all of them did.

You hadn’t said much of anything to Spencer for the rest of the drive or over dinner. He kept trying to engage you but you responded with little more than perfunctory sounds and nods. Eventually he gave up trying.

He’d allowed you to call Luke from the car outside the restaurant while he listened intently to everything you said to ensure that you didn’t incriminate him. You were sure Luke could sense something was amiss, between you telling him you’d left without your phone and that he couldn’t contact you on your replacement device, you knew he was suspicious. You’d ended the call telling him you would be in touch soon.

When you checked into the Chapmanville Inn, under the names of Andrew and Rose Burnett with their Colorado drivers licences and paying cash, you went straight through to the bathroom to shower.

You spent a long time under the measly flow of luke-warm water, cleaning yourself with the hotel shower gel which had an odd scent that you couldn’t place. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant but it certainly wasn’t nice either.

You dried yourself off and changed your clothes and when you stepped back into the bedroom, you found it empty. Spencer was nowhere to be seen and neither were the two firearms or his hunting knife. The only thing left behind were your bags and the clothes he’d been wearing earlier neatly laid out on one of the beds.

You padded over to the window and pushed the curtain aside to look out at the parking lot. The little navy Nissan was no longer in the spot Spencer had parked it in.

Your first thought was to run. It could be your only chance to get away from Spencer’s manic clutches. The lobby must have a phone, you could call Luke and tell him everything and get him to come and pick you up. Or you could call the cops and have them come for Spencer, but on what grounds?

You had no proof he had done anything wrong and you weren’t here entirely under duress. Spencer hadn’t forced you at gunpoint to come with him, ok so he’d threatened you but you could have gotten out of this if you’d really wanted to. When Luke hugged you at the BAU and obscured your phone’s microphone you could have told him what was going on but you didn’t. You didn’t tip Luke off for the same reason you weren’t going to run now.

You didn’t want to. And that was what scared you most about this whole situation. You had no intention of going anywhere because you wanted to be here with Spencer, no matter how foolish that made you. And you were sure Spencer knew it too, otherwise he wouldn’t have left you here alone. If he’d thought you would run he never would have gone anywhere without you.

Goddamint, I am in way over my head.

You sat down on the free bed and quickly fell back against the pillows. You hadn’t realised how tired you were until you laid down. The last few days had taken its toll on you, coupled with the lack of sleep you’d had due to your nightmares and you were exhausted. You felt your eyes fluttering closed within seconds of your head hitting the pillow. You didn’t even manage to get under the sheet before you were drifting off to sleep.

***

You weren’t sure what woke you. Maybe it was the sound of the door being closed or the light that emanated from the crack in the bathroom door. Maybe it was the metallic smell that filled your nostrils and pulled you out of sleep.

You rubbed your eyes, momentarily forgetting where you were as your brain roused into consciousness. You became aware of the sound of running water. A tap? No, the shower. You sat yourself up in bed and saw the trail of clothes leading to the bathroom door. Socks. Jeans. A hoodie. A pair of boxers. No shirt.

You swung your legs out of the bed without having the forethought to do so and were soon pushing yourself to your feet. You didn’t have to go far before you found the offending item, draped over a garbage bag on the back of the chair.

Even in the dark room you could tell the material was soaked in blood, mostly by the smell. You’d already assumed where Spencer had gone tonight and now you had proof.

Still there was no sign of the guns or the knife.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept towards the bathroom and poked your head around the crack in the door. Sitting on the sink basin, either side of the faucet were the two firearms Spencer had taken from your storage container. Inside the basin, soaking in some water was the partially bloody knife.

Feeling your stomach turn, you went to return to bed before Spencer saw you creeping around but as you turned away from the sink your eyes landed on the shower.

Through the flimsy yellow-ish curtain you could make out the perfect outline of Spencer’s body as he stood under the shower head. The lighting couldn’t have been more ideal, showcasing every dip and curve of his figure in silhouette.

You couldn't quite work out if he was facing you or the wall as his hands moved to run through his hair. You could however make out his slim waist and his strong thighs. You heard him exhale sharply through parted lips as he moved his hands from his hair further down his body.

When he turned to the side you had to hold back a gasp and clamped your hand over your mouth at the sight. His cock was standing at full attention and one of his hands was wrapped around it. When his hand started to move you had to bite down on your hand to stop from making a sound.

Your eyes were glued to his crotch, mesmerised by the way his hand glided up and down his hard length. You pressed your thighs together where you stood feeling dizzy at the sight and wishing there wasn’t a shower curtain hindering your view.

It wasn’t long before you felt yourself getting wet, your arousal soaking into the fabric of your panties. You wanted to follow Spencer’s lead and touch yourself, or better, have Spencer touch you. But you didn’t move. You kept frozen still, watching him behind the curtain whilst biting down on your hand.

Small pants and soft moans were coming from Spencer’s lips and you were possibly more turned on than you’d ever been in your life. You would give anything to just hop in that shower with him, to have a front row seat to what he was doing to himself, maybe even help him out.

You were caught up in your fantasy, lost in imagination of what it would be like to have Spencer fuck you up against those grimy shower tiles. So when a voice interrupted your sordid thoughts, you yelped in shock.

“You can either join me in here or go back to bed. I don’t need an audience, princess.” Spencer’s tone was amused yet breathy and he didn’t stop stroking himself as he spoke.

He’d known you were watching him since you walked into the bathroom, the thin curtain worked both ways he’d been able to see you peeping on him. It was the only reason he’d gotten hard in the first place and he’d decided to give you a bit of a show. But you had to pay the cover charge if you wanted the grand finale.

You made a pathetic whimpering sound like a puppy being kicked in the ribs and then he heard you scurrying away and shutting the door firmly behind you. He smiled to himself, shaking his head and continuing his activity once he was alone. He hadn’t expected you to join him, although he certainly wouldn’t have been upset if you had. He was aware you were attracted to him, as he was to you, but he wasn’t going to push you.

He stroked himself to completion and made sure to moan louder than was strictly necessary when he came, to ensure you heard him. He inspected his body after and once he was sure he had rinsed off all the blood, he shut the shower off and got out.

He dried himself off, dressed in a clean pair of underwear and a clean shirt. He cleaned off the blade soaking in the sink before taking it and the firearms and leaving the room. Your bed was furthest from the bathroom and you laid on your side with your back to him. He knew you weren’t asleep as your breathing wasn’t deep enough, but he’d let you pretend that you were.

He took the knife and the guns and tucked them inside the nightstand between his bed and the bathroom door. He collected up the clothes he’d deposited on the floor and put them and the blood stained t-shirt in the garbage bag. The rags he’d used to clean the inside of the Nissan after disposing of the body went inside the bag too.

Turning back to you he had an overwhelming desire to crawl into the small single bed next to you, turn you on your back and pin you down to the mattress so hard he left bruises on your wrists, maybe even some between your legs.

But he refrained. There would be plenty of time for that, and he was sure it would happen. But right now you were like a frightened deer, seconds away from retreating back into the woods at any given moment. He needed to bide his time, let you come to him. But he would have you, he was sure of it.

He crawled into his own bed and mirrored your position, laying on his side so he could watch the back of your head. You seemed to tense up, as though you could feel his eyes on you somehow. He smiled against the pillow, closing his eyes and still seeing you behind his lids.

“Good night my darling Rose.” He mumbled, but as expected, he didn’t receive a reply.

***

The following day you somehow spoke less than the one before. This time you wouldn’t even make eye contact with him unless he forced you to and when he did an adorable blush would spread to your cheeks. You clearly felt awkward about what you’d witnessed last night but Spencer didn’t. And he would use your embarrassment to his advantage.

Your silence made for an extremely long journey. It was almost five hundred miles between Logan and his next planned pit stop in Edwardsville, Illinois. It took just over eight hours to make the drive with the couple of stops for gas he’d had to make.

He had no target in Illinois. He probably could have found one if he’d wanted to but he was keen to reach his final destination without going off route too much in search of victims and Edwardsville was just a quick detour off of the I-70, barely taking him away from the interstate.

He’d chosen the Heartland B&B for the night, which was a huge step up from the rundown Chapmanville Inn last night and about triple the price. But his generosity went unnoticed by you.

It was an old farmhouse style building, set back from the road and surrounded by woodlands. The room was cosy and most importantly, clean. However, there was only one bed.

You had a scowl on your face as you sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Spencer in frustration. There was a couch on one wall but it was far too small for a person of his height to sleep on.

“Do you think you’ll be able to keep your hands to yourself if we share a bed, Y/N?” He teased you but it only made you scowl grow.

“We will share this bed in your dreams.” You scoffed.

“Oh we certainly will.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“I mean it, I am not sharing a bed with you.” You folded your arms in defiance.

“You expect me to sleep on that?” He nodded his head in the direction of the tiny couch.

“Or the floor. The bathtub. I don’t really care. But you aren’t sleeping here.”

Spencer stepped closer to you, surprising you when he grabbed you roughly by the bicep and pulled you up to your feet. He was bearing his teeth at you like a wild animal.

“I think you’ve forgotten who has the power here, princess. You will sleep where I tell you to sleep. And if you keep sassing me, that will be in the car.” He spat at you, squeezing your arm so tightly he would surely leave a bruise.

Suddenly he let you go, shoving you back to the bed and making you whine slightly. He turned his back on you, allowing you to see one of the weapons and the knife sheathed in the back of his pants as though giving you a warning. You watched him walk back over to the door and throw it open.

“Off on another vigilante mission?” You scoffed and he froze at your words in the open doorway.

He exhaled noisily before slowly turning back to face you. He looked more annoyed than you’d ever seen him, as though your mere presence was a burden right now.

“No,” he hissed. “I’m going to find somewhere to have a fucking drink.”

He didn’t wait for you to reply before he stepped outside and slammed the door closed behind him. You felt your cheeks burning with your anger and you let out a frustrated scream, slamming your fists against the mattress.

You were growing sick of this. You’d let Spencer drag you halfway across the country only for him to treat you like a nuisance. You’d thought you were here to help, to be somewhat useful to him but instead you were to stay hauled up in hotel rooms while he went out and did whatever the fuck he wanted.

No, not anymore. You weren’t going to let him treat you like this. If you were in this, you were in it together or you were leaving. You jumped up from the bed, marched to the door and threw it open before disappearing into the night.

***

Luke had just put down Roxy’s food when his cell phone rang from the coffee table. He patted the dog on the head with a sigh as he prayed it wouldn’t be Garcia calling to say they had yet another case.

The team was worn extremely thin after the loss of two members and the cases seemed never ending. It was the first evening he’d gotten to spend at home in such a long time and he pleaded that he wasn’t about to be called back to Quantico.

The number flashing on his screen wasn’t one he recognised and he frowned as he picked up the device and answered it.

“Hello?” He leant against the back of the couch.

“Luke, it’s Y/N.” Your voice floated to his ears and he breathed a sigh of relief but it was only temporary. Your tone was a little frantic, quiet and if he wasn’t mistaken almost scared.

“Is everything ok?” He quickly stood up straight as he started to panic.

“Yeah. Yeah everything’s fine.” You tried to level your voice.

“This isn’t the number you usually call from.” He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention, something didn’t sit right with him.

“I went for a walk and left my cell phone at my parent’s.”

“Y/N,” He swallowed. “You would tell me if something is wrong right? You know you can tell me anything.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” You tried to insist. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You’re sure? Because I’m really starting get concerned that-”

“I said I’m fine. Jeez, Alvez, paranoid much?” You chuckled but it didn’t sound like your usual laugh.

“You’re sure? I mean it Y/N you can tell me if…” He trailed off when he heard a beeping in his ear. He pulled the device away from his face and saw the incoming call from Garcia. He groaned as he put it back to his ear. “Sorry, Y/N it’s Garcia. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh, ok.” You squeaked. “Sure, I’ll call you soon, yeah?”

“I hope you do.” He swallowed again. “Y/N promise me you’re ok. Promise me that…Y/N? Hello?” He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose when he realised the line had gone dead.

You quickly replaced the pay phone in its cradle and rolled your eyes at your stupidity. You were not in the right frame of mind to be calling Luke, of course he would see through your thinly veiled attempts to pretend you were ok. You just hoped he didn’t think much of it, hopefully the case Garcia was calling him about would take his mind off of you.

You leant back against the glass booth and ran your fingers through your hair. You’d gone storming out of the hotel so quickly you hadn’t stopped to think that you didn’t have a key. You could go back and wait for Spencer in the lobby but who knew how long he would be out for. He’d said he was going for a drink, how many bars could there be in a tiny town like Edwardsville?

As is by some stroke of luck, you noticed a flyer tacked to the inside of the phone booth and stepped closer to it. It was crudely made, no real effort gone into it. You recognised it from the bulletin board in the lobby of the Heartland and could only assume they were posted all over town. It was a flyer for a bar proclaiming two for one shots on Tuesday nights.

Tonight was Tuesday night. And if you were Spencer, this was the place you would go.

You grabbed the flyer, pulling it down off of the glass and taking it with you as you marched across the street in the hopes of finding a cab in this backwoods town.

***

The Corner Tavern, conveniently located at the corner of Main and Union streets, was somehow exactly how Spencer imagined it to look. It looked like it had been plucked right out of an old western, with its hanging sign proclaiming its name and saloon style doors. But inside was a completely different story.

They’d clearly kept the facade for its charm but inside it had been renovated to reflect a much more modern setting. Loud music played from tinny speakers and the lights were almost too bright for his liking. Most surfaces were a garish silver and combined with the lighting hurt his eyes a little.

But it offered two for one on shots and after walking for almost three miles from the hotel, he was in desperate need of a drink. Or five.

He ordered two shots of Bourbon and necked them in quick succession before ordering another two as well as a glass of scotch. Double. Once again he quickly took the shots before meandering around to find a table.

He’d locked one of the guns and his hunting knife up in the glovebox of the Nissan, not wanting to be seen as a threat to the locals. But he still kept the little Colt tucked inside his boot, he wasn’t a complete idiot.

He had been sitting down for approximately two minutes before he had company in the form of a curvaceous blonde who was almost half his age. She was likely tipsy, certainly flirting. That was confirmed when she bypassed the other chairs at the table in lieu of sitting directly on Spencer’s lap. He couldn’t tell if she’d missed the wedding band on his finger or simply didn’t care.

He’d be lying if he said didn’t find her attractive and that he didn’t appreciate her attention. Maybe a fling with a beautiful young girl he would never see again was just what he needed. It had been a frightfully long time since he’d been intimate with someone.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, grinding herself a little in his lap as she did so. She moved close to his ear and he felt her hot breath on the side of his face.

“I’m Sarah.” Her lips brushed against his ear lobe.

“Andrew.” He replied, thinking it easier and wiser to use his alias.

“You’ve got a hot professor thing going on, Andrew.” She giggled and the sound was akin to nails on a chalkboard to Spencer but he ignored it.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that.” He let one arm snake around her waist, holding her place.

His other ventured upwards, cupping her cheek while his fingers threaded into her hair. He used his grip on her to pull her head back from his ear. Her eyes were glossed over from alcohol consumption and her lips were pouting at him, desperately inviting.

He really couldn’t be blamed when he tugged her closed and slammed his lips against hers. She certainly didn’t seem to mind as she was quick to let him plunge his tongue in her mouth.

He gripped her face as he kissed her and she in turn wrapped her arms around his neck. She adjusted herself in his lap until she was straddling him and the way in which she rocked against him had him growing hard in no time.

She moaned shamelessly against his lips, would probably have even let him fuck her right there in the middle of the bar for anyone to watch. Her desperation turned him on and disgusted him in equal measure. But it didn’t stop him deepening the kiss and grinding upwards to meet her.

Maybe they could go somewhere with a little more privacy, the alley down the side of the tavern could work. He could so easily get her on her knees for him, he was sure he could get this hopeless girl to do just about anything for him.

His free hand glided under her shirt and across the planes of her back. He wondered how many other men this pathetic creature had let take advantage of her. Were older men always her type? He would be willing to bet she had daddy issues that he would be more than happy to exploit. Only he didn’t get that chance.

Suddenly Spencer found himself being forcibly pulled away from Sarah by his hair, a hand threading into his locks and roughly tugging him by the roots. He sat back with a frown while Sarah’s arms fell to her sides, expecting to see an angry boyfriend or something standing over them, he was already concocting a way out of this in his head. But what he saw instead was somehow worse.

Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply in anger as you glared at him, your lips pulled into a tight line of frustration. But it was your eyes that contradicted the rest of your expression, your large, sad eyes that were filled with tears as you looked at him with this woman straddling his lap.

Sarah wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at you in annoyance at your interruption. Spencer barely paid her any notice, all he could look at was you and how it looked as though your heart was breaking.

“What the hell, lady? We were kind of in the middle of something here.” She got up from Spencer’s lap and approached you, folding her arms across her ample chest.

“So I saw.” You squared your shoulders. “I hate to break this to you, but I’m his wife.”

You proffered your hand towards the blonde, showing off the worn gold band on your ring finger. Spencer couldn’t help the smirk that jumped to his lips as you played the part of scorned wife so perfectly.

Sarah frowned, looking between the ring and Spencer who was still sitting dumbly in the chair. He shrugged at Sarah, not at all looking sympathetic.

“In my defence,” He pushed himself up, sidling between you and Sarah. “You didn’t ask.”

“Go to hell, jackass!” Sarah suddenly slapped him hard around the face, with a force that caused Spencer to stumble on his feet.

He groaned at the impact, cupping his cheek in his hand. He knew he couldn’t argue with Sarah, not without admitting your marriage was part of a fabricated identity anyway, so he let her storm away.

“See, I would deserve that if we were actually married.” He joked, turning to where you stood.

He felt the exact moment his heart shattered in his chest. Taking in the tears now silently rolling down your cheeks and your quivering bottom lip he felt the pain he’d caused you by kissing that stranger tenfold in his own heart. You looked utterly forlorn as you stared at him with the most broken look in your eyes he’d ever seen.

“Y/N…” He whispered, stepping closer to you. “I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t realise that you…that we…”

He trailed off as he saw you raising your arm. Seconds later another blow landed on the same cheek, this time even harder and he yelped in pain. You worked out a lot, you boxed in your spare time. That wasn’t fair at all.

“I second what she said,” you spat as angrily as you could muster given your tears. “Go to hell, jackass.”

Spencer went to speak but you were already turning on your heels and fleeing the bar. He wanted to call after you but he’d already garnered a lot of attention from other patrons who were now all staring at the jackass who had seemingly cheated on his wife.

You stormed away, your tears burning your cheeks as they fell and tried to brush them away to clear your vision as you shoved your way out of the bar and onto the dark street in the middle of a town you didn’t know.

You’d been stabbed in the back by someone you had once called your best friend. You’d been used, betrayed by the man who had given you his ring, albeit a fake one. Your mother didn’t raise a fool, so why were you letting Spencer use you as though she had?

I'm wearing rose-tinted shades but,

All I see is shades of my imagination covered in red.

A crooked smile and some fake love,

Put me in these handcuffs.

Threw away the keys 'cause I was a threat.

Well, first you try to tell me that we're family,

Then you try to tell me that it's for the best.

You promise that you'll be there if I need you,

But I don't need your handout, you can take it back.

I won't be used,

My mama didn't raise no fool.

Won't let you leave me hanging,

So cut me loose.

My mama didn't raise no fool,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Mm, I got a pain in my backbone,

Where'd you get that knife from?

Why the hell is it so covered in red?

I let you walk into my home,

Let you make it your own.

You tried to tear it down and,

Leave me for dead.

Well, first you try to tell me that we're family,

Then you try to tell me that it's for the best.

You promise that you'll be there if I need you,

But I don't need your handout, you can take it back.

I won't be used (no, no),

My mama didn't raise no fool.

Won't let you leave me hanging,

So cut me loose.

My mama didn't raise no fool,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Ladies and gentlemen,

If you're sick of being disrespected,

Let me hear you sing it, go.

I don't wanna feel,

Like my money that you're spending.

No, I don't wanna feel,

Like I'm losing 'cause you're winning, baby.

I don't wanna feel,

Like my money that you're spending.

No, I don't wanna feel,

Like I'm losing 'cause you're winning.

And I won't be used,

My mama didn't raise no fool.

Won't let you leave me hanging,

So cut me loose.

My mama didn't raise no fool,

Won't let you leave me hanging.

I won't be used,

My mama didn't raise no fool.

Won't let you leave me hanging,

So cut me loose.

My mama didn't raise no fool,

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh (whoa),

Won't let you leave me hanging, no more.

Oh-oh, oh-oh, ooh-oh, oh (no more, no more),

Won't let you leave me hanging.

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #unsub! spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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