#logan lucky fanfic

[sacklerscumrag]

Sunshine (Part 1/2)

single dad!Clyde Logan x nanny!reader

1 of 2

Notes: Hi! I know I haven't written for the ADCU in some time but i have this dad!clyde brainrot and i might as well post it. part 2 is 90% done so I’ll post that sometime soon

I miss being here & I hope everyone is doing well, sending all of you lots of love & thank you for taking time out of your day to read my silly little stories, i appreciate you <3

Warnings: protective girl dad!Clyde, talk about kids, mention of abandonment issues, mother not involved (and will not appear at any point), no mention of y/n, fluff, pining, pervy thoughts from sasquatch, eventual smut in second part (tags will be added), no cliffhanger

Word Count: 7.1K

(this will go back & forth between Clyde's POV & readers POV)

The bar was filled with scattered conversations and the faint sound of jukebox music lingering in the background. It was an otherwise quiet Thursday night at Duck Tape. Clyde busied himself as usual, topping off the regulars and ensuring everyone was settled and satisfied. The calm before the storm, at least until the real crowd rushed in to watch the Friday night game. Being the only bar in a small town meant there was little else to do around here. Clyde never seemed to mind, though; catching familiar faces day in and day out was one of his favorite parts of owning Duck Tape in the first place. Regulars usually required minimal conversation, which was right up Clyde's alley. The most words anyone got out of him other than his siblings was Earl, but he didn't mind. Clyde quickly finished his last prep of the day and glanced around the bar, taking advantage of the slow pace and stepping away into the recluse of his office. He huffed as he shut the door behind him and sank into his lanky chair; a never-ending sea of papers he'd been dodging surrounded him on the worn-out wooden desk. His eyes burned, and his head ached from the tension of another long day. Taking over the bar a couple of years ago definitely tested his limits. He loved it here, but it strained the already little energy he had left to go on about his day. So much had changed in Clyde's life in the past few years alone. From becoming a father to being the new proud owner of Duck Tape due to the Heist, plus there was-. The Heist, the words halted his train of thought as memories came and went.

The biggest risk any of them had taken in their life landed all three Logans with more financial security than they knew what to do with; plus, if anything was going to convince Clyde that the Logan family curse was finally broken, it sure as hell was how swiftly they had gotten away with all of it. But none of that really mattered. Sure, it was more than nice not to think about how he would pay off the next bill or where his next meal would come from, but he couldn't help but look around and feel like something was missing. Maybe someone to share it with woulda been nice, he thought to himself. Jimmy had Sylvia, Mellie had Joe, and well, he had his Sunshine. He mentally kicked himself at the apparent self-doubt clouding his mind; Clyde had more than enough to be grateful for. But a small part of him couldn't help but yearn.

It's not like Clyde was a stranger when it came to love. Sure, it's not something he thinks he's ever experienced, but he was sure he saw it with Jimmy and Sylvia. What they had was enough to convince him there was something more out there. Clyde just wasn't entirely sure he deserved whatever that was. He would live the rest of his life longing for something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and that's just another obstacle in his life he had come to terms with.

Clyde's train of thought quickly faded when he heard the office door click open behind him, making him turn in his chair. Dark, luscious curls crawled their way onto his lap, and small arms stretched around his waist. The discomfort from a long workday quickly melted away as giggles filled his ears. Mellie trailed into the office, following a giggling Lyla, who had already captured her dad in an embrace.

Clyde took a moment to tussle Lyla's hair slightly, making her giggle even louder. The way she fit into his lap took him back to a time when she was nothing but a wailing newborn cradled in his arms while the uncertainty of being thrown into fatherhood haunted him. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. It was not like his head was in the right place either, with the too-embarassing-to-admit heartbreak, confusion, and, no doubt, fear consuming him. A one-night stand he was sure he'd never hear from again turned into a small note tied with a pink ribbon to a baby carrier on his doorstep nine months or so later. He was young, dumb, and with no time to process any of it, but before he knew it, there she was. All big brown eyes and grabby hands, looking back at him like he hung the moon, and from that moment on, Clyde knew his life would change forever.

"Hey, Sunshine." Clyde drawled, and Lyla smiled while babbling to him about her day with her favorite aunt. Mellie smiled at the sight of her eager niece, sparing no detail of their girl's day spent at the salon.

"You good if I head on out?" Mellie said as soon as Lyla let her get a word in.

"Yeah, was jus' finishin' up here n' headin' home."

"Alright. Don't stay too late now. Night, you two." Lyla wrapped herself around Mellie's legs in a tight hug before saying her goodnight and reluctantly seeing her out the door.

"Ready to go, Sunshine?" Lyla nodded towards her dad and practically sprinted toward the front door. Something told him Mellie let her niece have more sugar before bed than he would usually allow, and something else told him he would be the one to pay for it later.

------------

As the busier weeks of the year followed with football season being at its peak, Clyde had just about had it. Another night at Duck Tape dragged on, minutes feeling like hours. Clyde was nearing his limit between the higher volume of patrons than usual and being understaffed with just two servers on the floor for the third night in a row. He hadn't even realized what time it was. And it wasn't just tonight; everything was starting to blur together as of late—never-ending odd hours at the bar in between quality time playing whatever princess Lyla was currently obsessing over, all while making sure he was always home just in time to read a bedtime story and tuck her into bed. Clyde was losing it. It's not like he thought things would get easier as Lyla got older, but damn, he could use a break.

And he sure as hell wasn't comfortable leaving Lyla in any sort of childcare yet, so help came from the people he loved the most. Mellie was always around to spend time with her niece, taking Lyla to the salon whenever possible, while Jimmy and Sylvia were happy to step in when they could. Clyde knew how lucky he was, having his family rally around him and step up whenever he needed them. He never did like to impose his troubles on them, knowing they had their own lives to take care of. Always making sure he was on time to pick Lyla up straight after work and spending his days off with her, attending endless tea parties along with movie nights where every stuffed animal she could fit would join them on the couch beside them in the small trailer they shared.

Clyde found himself overwhelmed by the daily chaos more often than he'd like to admit. But the truth is, he had grown to depend on her just as much as she did on him. Her smiles brightened even his darkest days. Listening to Lyla talk about the things she loves, whispering 'I love you, and snuggling before bed every night kept him going no matter how exhausted he was. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

But late at night, when Lyla was finally asleep and the world was a little quieter, Clyde's thoughts always seemed to be a little louder. It was the only time when he didn't have to have all the answers or act like everything wasn't weighing on him as heavily as it was, where not a single person depended on or needed something from him. Nothing else to do but sink into the couch, crack his favorite beer open, and drift off to sleep, only to wake up the next day and do it all over again.

"C'mon Clyde. A couple drinks with ya favorite brother, plus ya can use the night out. Syl's got her." Jimmy insisted, breaking Clyde out of his haze. Clyde huffed; the poor guy just wanted his brother to let off some steam, and he understood that. He was thankful his brother always looked out for him in his own way, but he couldn't give in. Not again. He winced slightly at the memory of the last time he indulged in a reckless drunk night out and how it ended with Lyla on his doorstep. Not that he regrets any of it, of course. He'd do it again a million times if it meant ending up with Lyla every time. But there was no denying the exhaustion that plagued him since that day. Long days and sometimes nights at the bar, followed by a never-ending list of chores, along with a more than needy kiddo constantly yanking at his leg, awaited him at home.

" 'S alright. 'M jus' stressed, been workin' nonstop, jus' wanna get home to Sunshine." Clyde put on a strained smile as he wiped down the bar top for the night. He couldn't bring himself to justify spending any of his spare time away from his girl. Having his family watch Lyla was always more of a necessity; how could he ask more of them? Just so he could kick back a few beers and feel like shit about it tomorrow? No, thank you, Clyde thought to himself. Jimmy let up as their attention was drawn away toward the door, chiming as Mellie sauntered into Duck Tape and scurried right up to the bar beside her brother.

"Guess what?" Mellies shoots Clyde a knowing smirk while bouncing on her feet excitedly.

"What?" Clyde managed to keep his tone steady, reluctantly ready to hear whatever Mellie was plotting after having to fight Jimmy off for the last hour about him 'loosenin' up,' whatever the hell that meant.

"I found ya a babysitter for the summer. Or is a nanny that ya needed? Oh well, whatever it is, I found her." She pulls out one of the bar stools and takes a seat. Clyde sets down the rag and takes a deep breath before looking back at Mellie, silently urging her to continue. "An' before ya say anythin', she's a real close friend; met her a couple years back at the salon, and she just moved back into town; she'd be perfect for this."

"Takin care of Lyla isn't something for one of your little friends, Mel." Clyde didn't mean to sound so condescending. Especially when his little sister was only trying to make his life easier, but he couldn't help himself. With the amount of time this person would spend with his daughter, Clyde needed someone he could trust. He prided himself in always wanting what was best for his Sunshine; her care was no exception.

"C'mon Clyde. Ya need the help, and she's a good one, I swear. Great with kids, and you can trust her." He sighed. "Just meet her before you make any decisions...please?" Clyde knew there was no talking Mellie out of anything, especially when her mind was made up like this. Plus, if he was being honest with himself, he was desperate. He didn't trust many people where Lylas was concerned, and that made the picking for her nanny or even a babysitter slim to none in this small town. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed this. And if Mellie trusted her, well, that would have to be good enough for him. For now.

"Fine. I'll meet her. When were ya thinkin'?" Mellie beamed a smile at him before checking her phone as a text message came through.

"Is now a good time?" Clyde's dazed look only amused Mellie further as she turned to the front door. "There she is!" Mellie hollered toward you, waving so you'd join them.

Clyde's eyes felt like they were damn near ready to fall right out of his head. If the word 'trouble' had a picture next to it in the dictionary, he was sure it'd look a lot like you, all dolled up in jeans that looked like they'd been drawn on and worn-down cowboy boots as you confidently strutted your way toward him. All bright eyes and delicious curves taking up all of his attention and then some. Clyde's grip tightened, practically digging his fingernails painfully into his palm. He couldn't remember the last time he reacted so strongly to someone. Pretty girls strolling in and out of Duck Tape were a rarity; he never bothered to give them a second look, let alone a first one. A hazy introduction later, you extended your hand towards him, and he swore he could feel lightning crackle through his veins at the warmth of your palm, immediately kicking himself for being so affected by you so quickly. Get it together, asshole, he told himself. This was going to be a long night.

---------

Mellie embraced you warmly and dragged you toward the two men staring daggers at you from the bar. It felt odd when she texted you out of the blue to meet her and the parent of the child you might or might not be taking care of this summer at some bar, but you didn't question it. Mellie always came with surprises. You happily greeted Jimmy, recalling the second Logan and his little girl from when you visited Mel's salon while he was fixing up the place last summer. In the short time you spent in this small town, the Logans always had their own way of making you feel right at home.

"Hi." You introduced yourself to the man behind the bar top, trying not to let his stern gaze affect you. His broad shoulders and handsome face made your breath hitch from the moment you first saw him. And if he kept looking at you like he was, you weren't sure your knees wouldn't buckle on the spot.

"Clyde, this is my friend I was tellin' ya about." Mellie cautiously glared at her seemingly rigid brother before looking back at you. "This is my brother, Clyde, Lyla's dad." You offered him a warm smile and extended a hand toward him. Clyde stiffened further, eyes darting between you; his large palm engulfed yours.

"Hm. Nice to meet ya." He offered you a tight smile and briefly shook your hand, practically snatching it away. Your skin suddenly missed his warmth, but you shook away the slight disappointment at his apparent disinterest.

"Clyde, don't be rude. Sorry, he's not a real people person." Mellie scolded him and turned toward you. "So ya still interested in that babysittin' gig? Lord knows my brother here could use the help." Clyde's eyes shot up and glared at Mellie, silently wishing the ground would swallow him whole so he could be spared the embarrassment his little sister was already putting him through.

"I don't know. Is it still available?" You glanced at Clyde teasingly, hoping to ease whatever tension had manifested between the three of you in the last five minutes.

"Yes. No." Clyde scrambled to gather his thoughts before continuing. "It is I just...I'd like to see ya spend time with her first. See how ya are with her n all that.'' He sighed. This wasn't the way this was supposed to go. He was supposed to find a nanny, get through the summer, and life could go on like it had been. Instead, he felt so flustered that he couldn't even string a simple sentence together if his life depended on it.

"I can come over sometime this week to spend some time with her. If it doesn't feel like a good fit for you, you have no obligation to hire me." You made sure to sneak in that last part before he could change his mind. Clyde nodded towards you appreciatingly.

"How's tomorrow afternoon? Round 1? I can drop her off after my shift." Mellie chimed in before Clyde could stumble over any more of his words.

"Tomorrow it is, then." You nodded and received a barely there smile from the grumpy bartender. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

-----

The next day arrived much faster than Clyde realized. He typically looked forward to his mornings off, sharing a big plate of burnt bacon with Lyla while sprawling on the couch watching morning cartoons. Instead, he spent most of his morning distracted. Even when Lyla rambled about what was playing on the television, Clyde's mind wandered back to you. It's not like he'd gotten much sleep either, with the thought of seeing you again running through is mind late at night. What was supposed to be a quick shower ended with Clyde's hand gripping his cock, images of you pressed up against him, droplets of water streaming down your breasts as he drove into you and pressed his warm body on yours. It wasn't long before he felt himself spill on his hand, and harsh reality set in. Clyde hated himself over it. He was going to be your employer, for fucks sake. He'd barely met you for more than ten minutes, and already he was over here pining and touching himself like some hormone-crazed teenager with a crush. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Mellie swung by to pick Lyla up, promising her another one of their girls' days at the salon. Lyla quickly got ready, and after seeing her out the door and waving the two off, Clyde managed to peel himself off the couch and headed over to the bar.

From there, the morning dragged like no other. Clyde spent most of it sitting in his office, trying not to think about the fact that you'd walk through those doors any second. He always found it easy to throw himself into work, put everything else aside, and focus on what needed to get done. But every time he tried, there you were. There was no way he'd be able to do this. Spending more time with you? If he felt this out of control after one day, how would he be able to be any sort of normal around you all summer? He couldn't; he had to end this today. You would understand; Mellie said this job wasn't all that serious for you anyway. You could go back to wherever you came from, and he could finally get something done without thinking about how your hand felt on his last night. Or how badly he wanted to trace the soft skin on your collarbone or how your smile warmed his heart with a familiarity he somehow already craved.

Clyde didn't get too far into his bar prep when the doors to Duck Tape swung open. Lylas skipped inside, Mellie following closely behind her. She stumbled while trying to climb one of the bar stools, making Clyde exit the bar quickly and taking her in his arms.  

"Gon' hurt ya self there, Sunshine." Lyla giggled, the bar stool wobbling underneath her before Clyde set her on the ground. Just as Mellie said her goodbyes and headed out, the door opened, but this time, Clyde could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight.

-------

Your morning had been nothing short of hectic after changing your outfit an endless amount of times. Not to mention spilling coffee on your shirt once you'd managed to settle on something. You quickly shoved that aside and mustered whatever courage you had left to head over to the bar. A short drive later, you walked into Duck Tape at precisely one o'clock to find Clyde standing beside an adorable little girl looking up at him with a guilty look on her face.

"Now I know Aunt Mellie gave ya candy at the salon; that's enough for today, sunshine." Lyla pouted slightly as you listened in. Clyde said a quick hi and crouched beside her when he noticed you standing there. Lyla wrapped herself around her dad's legs when she spotted you.

"Lyla, this is Aunt Mellie's friend. The one I told ya about." Clyde waited cautiously for his daughter's response. As you knelt on the floor in front of the pair, you were met with wild chestnut curls and doe-brown eyes on the cutest kid you've ever seen.

"Nice to meet you, Lyla." The little girl retracted shyly into her dad's embrace. Your eyes landed on the coloring book and plastic crayon box she cradled in her hands. "That's a nice princess coloring book you got there. Rapunzel is my favorite, ya know."

"Rapuzel's my favorite too." Lyla mumbled, chocolate button eyes hesitantly landing on you.

"No way! Her dress has both of my favorite colors, purple and pink."

"Those are mine too! Daddy got me a 'punzel dress, and he lets me wear it all the time when we have tea parties 'n stuff." You could've sworn Clyde's cheeks flushed slightly like the doting dad you could already see he was.

"I bet he does." You smiled over at Clyde. Thinking about this large man playing pretend princess and having tea parties with his daughter had your heart swirling with emotions you were sure shouldn't be there in the first place. You didn't know why that warmed your heart the way it did, but you brushed it off as you offered to color with her, and Lyla practically dragged you toward the back of the bar.

The next hour was spent with the both of you huddled in a corner booth while Clyde kept busy around the bar. You talked endlessly about her extensive knowledge of every single princess, colored a couple of pages, and even earned a few giggles.

Clyde wiped down the bar for what he was sure was the millionth time. There was minimal on the to-do list for today, but he would busy himself here as long as it took if it meant keeping an eye on you two. It's not like you needed it; he didn't need to be there to know you were hitting it off with Lyla. The chatter had been nonstop since you sat at the booth; you engaged seamlessly with her. Listening intently to every word while keeping her entertained. He noticed his daughter was just as entranced with you as he was. This was a good thing, wasn't it? He had to admit he miscalculated your ability in all of this when you first met. Clyde felt terrible about how closed off he'd been last night. Here you were, all bright-eyed and ready to help, and there he was, the usual grey cloud raining on everybody's parade the first chance he got. At least, that's how he assumed everyone saw him.

Clyde was refilling some bottles from the bar when Jimmy called, letting him know he was outside. He signaled over to Lyla, who was beyond excited to spend the rest of her day with her uncle and cousin Sadie. You helped her gather her things before Jimmy took Lyla in his arms. One "Bye, Daddy!" and a wave from Clyde later, and it was just the two of you in the ample bar space.

"So how'd I do, bossman?" you asked as Clyde stepped out from behind the bar. His large frame coming into full view was enough to make a girl swoon on the spot. You attempted to reign in whatever self-control you could gather, well enough to take a step toward him without feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. Clyde remained silent for a moment before you felt the need to speak.

"Look, I know it must be hard to just trust a stranger with all this. And I know I'm not the most qualified person out there. But I'm a hard worker and punctual; playing princesses and tea parties happens to be my specialty. Plus, I can make anything into a game." You could've sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on Clyde's handsome face.

"She seems to like you." Warmth blossomed in your chest at the compliment. Lyla was a smart kid and funny, too. You knew it would be hard not to fall in love with the little rascal from the moment you met.

"Well, I like her too, so that's a plus." Clyde felt his entire body tense up at your newfound proximity. From here, he could see the flush of your lips and the captivating color in your eyes, like two pools he would happily drown in. Your warm smile drew him in until he found himself needing to be closer to you than what was deemed appropriate. And to hear you talking so sweetly about his sunshine? His heart felt like it could burst out of his chest, but he quickly compelled that away to unpack another day.

"Can ya start tomorrow? I have a late shift bein' a sports night n all." Clyde attempted to shake his thoughts away. He had to try at least to pretend like he hadn't spent the better part of his shift taking longing glances at you, admiring the way your white tee and jeans fit your curves in a way that made sure he'd have to walk around with a semi and adjust his pants for the rest of the day.

"Sure thing. Your place?" Clyde nods and gives you a time and address.

--------

The next several weeks were filled with endless princess gatherings, storytelling from faraway lands, coloring for hours on end, and whatever adventure Lyla would conjure up that day. She warmed up to you almost instantly; things were going great. Better than great, sometimes, you had to question if this was really your job with how much fun you were having. Lyla was witty, smart, and had an imagination to be envied. She seemed so free and unapologetically herself in the best way. You could tell she had been raised with an unconditional love any kid could only dream of. It wasn't like the occasional meltdown didn't take place from time to time, being a toddler and all. But you always find a way to bring that smile back to Lyla's face.

Things with Clyde hadn't simmered down in the slightest. Every interaction, every glance, every accidental touch had your yearning growing. Every moment spent together allowed you to quietly admire something new about him. The way his chest filled out those t-shirts he often wore, his hair that begged to have your fingers tangled in it, or even how he pursed his lips in that way that had your core clenching whenever he spoke. Not to mention, seeing him with Lyla made your knees weak. This gentle giant's soft demeanor melted your heart while twisting your insides in the most delicious way. Still, Lyla kept you more than busy; otherwise, you'd spend your days daydreaming about Clyde Logan. Today was no different. Building forts and baking cookies had been the first thing on the itinerary, and knowing Lyla, there was always more to come. When she'd finally fallen asleep watching Cinderella on the couch, you carefully tucked her into her bed and quietly exited the room, shutting the door just as Clyde entered the trailer.

"Hey." You whispered as Clyde set down his stuff and went to the kitchen. "I just put her to bed."

"Thanks. Sorry, 'M late. Bar kept gettin' crazy n' I just couldn't get away. It's-" You cut him off by placing a hand on his arm, feeling him tense under you.

"Clyde, it's okay. That's what I'm here for, remember?" You winked at him before walking toward the kitchen to put away the rest of the dishes. Clyde headed to the fridge and pulled out two beers. Your cheeks warmed, watching him lean over with one sturdy arm on the fridge door, the muscles on his back rippling under the worn-down t-shirt while the two bottles fit snuggly in his large hand. Get it together, you told yourself, forcing your gaze away.

"Beer?" Clyde gestured toward you. "I was jus' gonna have one on the porch." The words tumbled from his mouth without realizing. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't help himself. You looked all comfortable, your books and blanket on his couch, standing here in his kitchen, in his home, moving around like you belonged there. But Clyde wasn't stupid; his head was definitely playing tricks on him. There wasn't a universe that existed where a woman as beautiful as you would be interested in a guy like him, and he understood that. Now the only problem was keeping his heart and dick in check long enough to be professional. 

The night sky was decorated with stars against the black abyss, quiet and still. Just the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. Clyde followed you outside, shutting the door quietly. You sat beside him, legs folded comfortably in the porch chairs as he handed you a cold beer. 

"So, how was everythin'?" He said before taking a swig of his beer, the soft rumble of his voice activating those darn butterflies in your stomach already.

"Great. Pretty sure she tried on every princess dress in her closet and saw Frozen at least ten times. We danced, sang, and even built a fort." You found yourself smiling at the memory of Lyla with a mismatched dress and crown belting 'Let It Go' with you while jumping around her room. "Same old, same old."

"Mhm." Clyde relaxed further into his seat. The more time you spent with him, the more apparent it became that he was a man of few words. Still, you appreciated the ones he was willing to share with you. 

"It was a good day; it always is." You noticed Clyde stretched his left arm before him as if irritated by it. 

"Mind if I take this off?" The words tumbled out before Clyde could stop them, the beer loosening his tongue. Clyde wasn't sure why he suddenly felt comfortable enough around you to remove his prosthesis. He was pretty sure the people closest to him hadn't even seen him without it. Although it shouldn't surprise him, his sense of ease around you only grew within the last couple of weeks.

"Go ahead." Clyde hesitated for a second, then carefully removed his prosthetic, massaging the tender spot. Your eyes scanned the newly exposed skin. "Does it hurt?" Clyde paused his movement and huffed. You cleared your throat, the day's exhaustion clearly eliminating whatever filter you had left. "Sorry. I didn't mean to-forget I said anything." 

"'S alright. Served two tours n' ended with this. 'N no, not really, not all the time, at least. Jus' bothers having this thing on all day." You nodded, understanding it was something still difficult for him to talk about.

"You don't have to ask, you know? To take it off. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for no reason." Clyde smiled while nursing his beer. When he looked over, he found your eyes tracing the scars left behind on his arm. Clyde reached for his sleeve, suddenly feeling the need to cover up, before you placed your hand on his arm, stopping him. "Is this okay?" Clyde gulped and gave a slight nod. He wasn't sure if it was the exposed flesh or how vulnerable this whole thing felt, but he swore he could feel every nerve on his body light up under your touch. Your fingers lightly outlined the scar for a moment before you smiled at him, settled back into your chair, and sipped your beer. 

"Mellie dropped by today, and I meant to ask you if I should know of anyone coming by to see Lyla other than your siblings. Friends maybe? Her mom?" You snuck in that last part before you could stop yourself; the last thing you wanted to do was overstep. But you were curious. Lyla never mentioned her, and you didn't notice any pictures of her around the house. Was she a good mom? Was she pretty? She had to be to be Lyla's mom. Did she still hang around? Would she like you hanging around? Maybe she wouldn't want you getting all close to Clyde. Hush that is none of your business, you told yourself.

"Lyla's mom isn't in the picture. Never was. She jus' about dropped Lyla at my doorstep 'n we never heard from her again. Didn't want nothin' to do with her or me, said so in the letter she left." His words spliced across your heart, and tears welled in your eyes for the little girl sleeping soundly inside. Just thinking about someone walking away from an angel like that with such carelessness had you wanting to find this woman with your fist immediately.

"So, you two never?" Clyde shook his head almost as if you'd insulted him.

"It was a one-time thing. A drunken night full of bad choices, 'N then she disappeared. Popped back up again with Lyla, and that was it. Letters last I heard from her." Clyde said. "Not that I wanted her to come back. I don't. We've been jus' fine just us two." 

"I don't doubt that for a second." 

-----------

The following Sunday morning came with blue skies and warm summer air. Clyde insisted you'd take Sundays for yourself, although you weren't sure why. It's not like you had any other friends around here besides Mel, not to mention a social life being out of the question. When you weren't with Lyla, plans usually consisted of staying at home with a good book and getting chores done. You were gathering your things to lay out in the sun for a bit when Mellie called about being overbooked at the salon and Clyde having an emergency at the bar and asked if you could watch Lyla for the day. A few minutes later, you managed to put together an easy picnic basket, threw a shirt and shorts over your bathing suit, and headed out the door.

A short drive and only two knocks on the trailer later, Lyla ran out, wrapping both arms around your legs in a tight hug. She quickly pulled you inside to find Clyde sitting on the couch with cartoons playing faintly in the background. 

"Hi." The morning rasp in his voice had your chest tightening and face flushing. He wore a faded t-shirt and simple dark gray sweats that you had to fight not to stare at. "I tried callin'. Ya didn't have to come, everythin's been takin care of."

"Oh. My phone must still be on do not disturb from last night or something. I was gonna take Lyla to the lake for a picnic and maybe a swim." Lyla's face immediately perked up as she squealed excitedly.

"I'm gonna go get my swimsuit on!" She yelled as she tried to run off into the hall before Clyde stopped her.

"Now, sunshine, today's her day off."

"What's that mean?" Lyla's disappointment grew along with the pout on her face. 

"Means she's got stuff to do, stuff she's gotta get done today. She'll be back tomorrow, hm?" Lyla reluctantly nodded as Clyde placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Well," you interjected, unsure if it was your place to say something, but there was no way you could stand by and disappoint Lyla like this, especially when spending your days with her had become your favorite thing to do. "If it's okay with your dad, I'd love some company. I can't eat all these PB&J's and snacks I packed alone now, can I?" Lyla looked toward Clyde. A mix of 'please' and 'please, daddy' flooded Clyde's ears before reluctantly giving in to his daughter's whim. Lyla sprinted toward her room to change, mumbling something about showing her water tricks, making you chuckle.

"You're welcome to join us. I packed plenty of food, and it's too nice of a day out to stay inside." Clyde contemplated for a moment. Just the thought of seeing you prancing around in the water in a skin-tight bathing suit had his pants tightening uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he could control himself. But he had the day off and sure as hell didn't want to spend it without his Sunshine. Plus, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the two of you alone by the creek in the woods. It would be safer if he went with you. At least that's what he told himself as he agreed and slipped away to change into his water shorts.

The drive over to the creek went a little faster than usual, thanks to you and Lyla singing along to some of her favorite songs. Clyde spent the entire ride concealing a smirk at the sight of both of you breaking into song and then into a fit of giggles once one of you would get the words mixed up. Once you'd arrived, Clyde wasted no time unloading the truck and helping a restless Lyla get out of her seat. You found the perfect shady spot to set up the blanket and laid out some things from the picnic basket; once satisfied, you set your shorts and shirt to the side and settled in. Lyla wasted no time hitting the water, barely letting you slather some sunscreen before sprinting off with her floatie. You sat by the shore with your book, watching her splash around. The cool water around your legs is a nice relief from the sun's warmth on your skin. Clyde sat back against the tree, keeping his eyes on the two of you. He couldn't help but imagine if this was what it would be like—having someone by his side sharing moments like these with Lyla. 

The afternoon passed far too quickly. A blur of splashes and fits of laughter ended with a sleepy Lyla slung on her dad's shoulders as you packed everything back into the truck and headed out. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the fleeting colors of dusk began to fade away. Only the rumble of the truck and crickets chirping surrounded by the night sky remained. Lyla's soft snores could be heard from behind as you glanced over at Clyde. The soft moonlight reflected off his skin, hair still slightly damp from the creek. His eyes were trained on the road ahead, but you could tell something was on his mind as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

You sat comfortably on the passenger seat, your thigh dangerously close to his hand resting on the gear. His fingers itched to reach over, wondering how soft your flesh would feel under his touch. No matter how hard it was to keep a calm facade, he couldn't help but recall the silky skin over your bathing suit top, curves he would kill to trace every inch of it with his tongue teasing him from every angle. Even the way your teeth caught on your lip in the most sinful way was driving him insane. Everything about today was driving him insane. Not to mention watching you with his Sunshine. How you'd dramatically play along to every scenario Lyla created until you were nothing but a fit of giggles, watching in awe as you smothered her in hugs and kisses every time she'd swim into your arms. His sunshine was an affectionate girl, don't get him wrong. But she sure as hell didn't open up easily to strangers, yet here you were, winning her over from day one. Clyde shook away the ache in his heart at the thought as he redirected his attention back to the road.

A short while later, you'd arrived back at Clyde's. He hopped out of the car just after you did, carrying a passed-out Lyla in his arms into the house. You stayed outside, wondering if you should wait for him to return or count your losses and hurry home. Before you could make up your mind, Clyde appeared and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving the two of you uncomfortably close on his front porch.

"Thank ya for today." The faulty lamp above you did little against the night.

"It's no problem," you said before a silence fell between you. The dim light accentuated his nose and the plumpness of his lips in the most beautiful way. His eyes drifted up to yours as you took a tentative step toward him. Your heart began to pound, chests nearly pressed against one another, feeling a familiar desire spread in your core. Clyde's breathing grew heavier, suddenly aching to get you closer.

Just as the longing became unbearable, he closed the gap between your mouths, first with the utmost gentleness, then with the hunger of a starved man. You made a delicious little sound and responded with the same fervor, sparking a fire in his belly. He didn't want it to stop. The warmth of his mouth had you melting into him. Your lips parted slightly as his hand came up loosely at the side of your neck, holding you close.

"Daddy!" Lyla's distant voice rang in your ears. Clyde pulled away suddenly; a rush of frigid air replaced the warmth where his body was pressed up against you. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over the two of you, snapping you back into your harsh reality. Lyla began to cry from what was probably a nightmare. Clyde sighed as he looked toward the front door and back to you. You cleared your throat and wrapped your sweatshirt tighter around, unable to look him in the eye after he'd practically kissed you dizzy.

"I should go. Goodnight, Clyde." You offered him a warm smile and dashed to your car before he could say anything else. Clyde stood with his head slightly hung, ensuring you were safely in the driver's seat before heading inside. You lowered the windows in an attempt to let the humid summer night air free from inside, hoping a little fresh air would snap you out of whatever trance Clyde had just put you under. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you ran your fingers along your lips, the ghost of his kiss still buzzing through you on the drive home.

[wrathkitty]

Story/Series Masterlist

Hellooo! Thanks for stumbling onto this. My fandoms primarily are The Mandalorian and Star Trek: TNG, but there's also The Last of Us, Avengers, Portal 2, and The Good Place. I try to stick as closely to the original source material as possible, I know the canon and the characters, and probably throw in more Easter eggs and other blink-and-you'll-miss-it references than I should.

If you're one for strong and snarky Readers/OFCs (here there be swearing), slow burns (envision a glacier), angst (it's a good kind of pain), and humor (lulz), then this is probably a good place to come waste some time. 👻

* Current works in progress *

Short Debts Make Long Friends - (The Mandalorian; Din Djarin/Reader)

An over-educated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure. 1.6k kudos on Ao3. POV Mando and Reader.

Why Don't You Sit Right Down and Stay Awhile - One-shots from "Short Debts" that admittedly are the walking definition of 'crack treated seriously'

- Can Your Helmet Play Elevator Music? - Oh, This is Much Worse- ...It was a Custom Piece

Completed stories:

Hello, My Dear - (Star Trek: TNG; Reader/Q)

Stories of the life and times of Q and his mortal more-than-just-a-friend, Ensign Reader. Because being omnipotent doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to relationships. POV Q and Reader.

As Q Like It - One-shots from "Hello, My Dear," which primarily remain within in TNG but also wander into Voyager and other territories, but none beyond the Neutral Zone

- Shoo, Q! - TNG; Lower Decks; POV Ensign - Does the Other Party In This Scenario Go By Some Form of Epithet, Identification, or Nomenclature? - TNG; POV Data - You Have Three Choices - TNG; POV Q - That Wasn't the Actual Question - TNG; POV Reader - Do I Always Have to Have a Reason to Stop By? - TNG; POV Reader - I Haven't the Vaguest Idea of What You're Talking About - TNG, POV Q - Silver Q - Picard, POV Q

To My Brother, Thor, Whom I Slept With - (Avengers; Loki & Thor)

One-shots about the shenanigans of a young Loki and Thor, and why the young princes of Asgard are the best birth control ever. Primarily Loki's POV, but also occasionally POV Odin and Frigga regretting their choices)

- Great Aunt Snotra's Funeral- A Midnight Lesson in the Current Events of Midgard - The People vs. The Brothers Odinson, or That Time Loki Thought It Was a Bright Idea to Appear on Daytime TV - One Flew Over the Ravens' Nest (Even the Gods Can Be - Psychoanalyzed)

Come Downstairs and Say Hello - (Portal 2; Chell/Wheatley)

With Wheatley in tow, Chell might as well write "DISPENSE PRODUCT HERE" on her shirt and throw herself in front of a turret...but she can't leave him behind, either. POV Chell, Wheatley, and GLaDOS.

Other works in progress that I don't have the heart to admit to myself are probably on permanent hiatus:

Bang, Zoom, Straight to the Moon - (The Last of Us; Joel/OFC)

Joel has been more than happy to let Ellie sabotage his love life since their arrival in Jackson, but all bets are off after she learns that the town’s most recent arrival is a former astronaut. The new gal is smart, single, pretty, and good with a gun. And she’s gone to mother *fucking* space. Joel POV.

Lucky Denver Mint - (Logan Lucky; Clyde Logan/OFC)

The stars over Boone County never looked brighter than the night a pretty astrophysicist walked into Clyde Logan’s bar. Clyde POV.

The Sleazy Place - (The Good Place)

The possibility of Michael never making into the Good Place is why Janet [literally] reassemble the Soul Squad - and what they owe Michael is why Eleanor doesn't hesitate to team up with her friends one last time to try and save their favorite former fire-squid. Eleanor POV. ...She just needs to finish that margarita first.

Like what you see? Please reblog and comment! I love comments.

[mrs-gucci]

Fireside

{ clyde logan x female reader }

anon

A fun sexy bonfire would be fun, maybe with some exhibitionism thrown in? With Flip or Clyde or anyone you think please! :D

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), slight exhibitionism (high risk of being caught), oral sex (m recieving), light dirty talk, cum in mouth.

word count: 1.19k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

When Jimmy and Mellie extended an invitation to you for the Logan family annual camping trip, you were honored. You and Clyde have only been dating for about four months, but everyone agrees that you two have something really special.

So when the day rolls around, you and Clyde pack up the car and drive up to the campsite. Everyone's already there when you arrive, considering you two got a bit of a late start due to...special circumstances, aka you two being unable to keep your hands off each other.

Clyde insists on setting up the tent while you sit with the family and start getting to know everyone. It's immediately clear that you fit right in with everyone and soon enough, you've got some hot apple cider in-hand and you're cracking jokes with the group.

Soon the sky turns from blue to orange and the Logan boys begin building the campfire while everyone else gets things ready for dinner. Once it's cooked, the lively conversation continues well into the night, with plenty of laughs and stories shared between everyone.

Most of the family ends up back in their tents by ten, but you, Clyde, Jimmy and Mellie continue chatting for a bit longer. For some reason, you're starting to get really touchy. Because you're looking at Clyde in the yellow glow of the fire and he's just looking so, so handsome...

He looks over at you when he seemingly catches onto your mood, offering you a small but knowing smile. The cool metal on his prosthetic hand comes to rest on your thigh as Mellie and Jimmy start to wind down for the night.

As soon as they're in their tents, you're leaning over and pulling him in for a kiss. He chuckles against your lips, flesh hand resting on the side of your face.

"What's up with ya tonight?" he asks when you pull back slightly to catch your breath. "Don't think I didn't notice your wanderin' eyes. now."

You smile, looking up at him. "I just think you look very handsome this evening."

"Handsome, huh?" His eyebrows raise slightly as he gives you another kiss. "'n that's all that's got you all riled up? You ain't thinkin' about anything else?"

Your smile widens to a not-so-subtle grin.

"I mean, I had a few other thoughts..." you hum, getting up and climbing onto his lap. "Like what we did this morning."

Clyde hums, his hand resting on your hip, stroking your clothed skin gently.

"Oh yeah? What've ya been thinkin' about in particular?"

You kiss him deeply, then let your lips fall to his jaw, then his neck and throat, mouthing and nipping gently along the way.

"Thought about how good your mouth felt on me, how fucking good you are at eating my pussy," you hum. "Aaaand I thought about how lucky I am that I'm the only one who gets to take your big, thick dick inside of me. Mm, and finally, I thought about how I never got to repay you for making me feel so good."

He lets out a shaky breath as you slide down onto your knees in front of him, hands smoothing over his thighs. Clyde looks around at the tents, then back down at you.

"Honey, I dunno if we s-should..."

You lean in and press a very gentle kiss to the forming bulge around his crotch, your warm breath wafting over his crotch. "I mean, I can stop if you want me to. But everyone's asleep, baby, and you know I can make it quick."

His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches slightly as he tries to keep himself mostly composed. He brings his hand around to cradle the back of your head, gently pushing you down, indicating that he'd like you to continue.

Your lips turn up in a small smirk as your hands make quick work of his pants, pushing them down enough to be able to pull his length out.

The air is starting to get a bit chilly, but the fire crackling behind you helps. You hum, wrapping your lips around his tip, teasing his head before sinking down further and beginning to suck him off. Clyde grunts softly, hips rocking up instinctively and fingers tightening slightly in your hair.

"Mmm, Christ," he groans quietly, looking down at you as you bob up and down on him. "Lookit you, my p-pretty girl, mm, makin' me feel fuckin' amazing..."

You smile around him, then begin to go a bit faster, earning you a low groan from above, which only spurs you on more. Clyde's having a very hard time keeping quiet and finds himself looking around every time he makes a noise, making sure he didn't clue any of his family in to what's going on.

There's something so nerve-wracking but incredibly thrilling about this, getting a blowjob out in the open, with some of his family members sleeping only a few hundred yards away. Luckily, deep sleeping runs in the Logan family, so he's pretty confident that no one will catch you two.

And there's also the fact that he's incredibly, incredibly close to orgasm and it's only been a couple minutes. You just really know how to push all the right buttons.

"Oh honey, i-if you keep this up, I ain't gonna last much longer," he breathes. "Mm, you're too fuckin' good at this."

You pull off for a second and replace your mouth with your hand, looking up at him as you briefly catch your breath.

"You can move, baby," you breathe. "Use my mouth, I want you to cum."

Clyde growls softly and holds your head firmly in place as his hips begin to thrust up into your mouth. He loves when you let him take control, he loves that you trust him enough to let him do this.

"I'm gonna cum," he says quickly, breathing heavily through his nose, lips pursed as he frantically pushes you down and thrusts up at the same time. "Ohhhh I'm gonna cu--"

His orgasm suddenly hits and he lets out a long, low groan, hips jerking slightly with each spurt of cum. He makes sure you take every last drop you've earned from him before letting you go, leaning back in his chair to catch his breath for a moment.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and catch your breath before standing up again. Clyde quickly tucks himself away, then pulls you onto his lap again, kissing you deeply, sighing at the taste of his cum lingering in your mouth.

"Fuck, darlin', you're incredible," he says in between kisses. "I...I love ya."

Your eyes widen and you pull back, looking down at him. That's the first time he's ever said it to you. You smile widely, then take his face in your hands, thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

"I love you too Clyde."

He grins from ear to ear, then kisses you again, continuing to do so for a few minutes before the two of you put out the fire and head back to your tent.

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

[brewsterispunkk]

diamonds and stones, part one

pairing: clyde logan x f!reader (no use of y/n)

WC: 9k(!!)

summary: reader returns home & encounters some ghosts from her past.

warnings: 18+! language, mentions of war, amputation.

a/n: it's here!! i hope y'all enjoy this long ass chapter (this is so long its embarrassing LOL). there's some time skipping/flashbacks here so i hope it's not too hard to follow! as always, any feedback is appreciated :)

series masterlist

ONE

The phone had barely rung two times before you answered, thumb punching the accept call button as soon as you glanced at the caller ID. Pulling the phone up to your ear, you looked ahead at the cornfields and the open road in front of you. Your mom’s crackly voice filled your ears.

“Darlin’,” she sighed on the other end. So, she’d gotten your message.You thought to yourself.

Mentally, you kicked yourself for giving her any notice in the first place. You knew she’d try to talk you out of it, like she had successfully done the previous two times you’d tried moving back home.

“You got out, honey.” she’d say. “You got to do what I never did. You went to college, you got your degree, you moved to the city. Don’t throw that away. There ain’t nothin’ for you here.”

You hated that she referred to your hometown like that, the place that raised you: a place to get out of. Sometimes you missed it like you missed a limb.

And after your Gramma’s first stroke it had worked, no matter how guilty you felt for being states away while she recovered. 

It had been a minor stroke, the summer before your junior year of college. Not fatal, or with too many lasting health complications, but it had been enough to scare you. It had been enough to scare you into almost dropping out of college and moving home, but your mother and grandmother had insisted that you go back after she’d begun the road to recovery. 

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason you decided to go back, a small voice in the back of your head whispered.

 Two dark brown eyes danced in your mind's eye; freckles scattered sparsely across tan cheeks, a rumble of a laugh, the crackle of a tape on an old car radio. You dispelled it before you allowed your mind to wander further.

That’s in the past, you  insisted,  chastising that quiet voice trying to bring up old ghosts. 

You wouldn’t let your mind go there again. He left, you reminded yourself, instead resolving to focus on the road in front of you, and the nagging voice of your mother in your ear. 

She sighed your name.

“I told you not to come, honey. This is the whole reason we waited so long to tell you–”

“I’m already on the road, mom.” You interrupted her. “I moved out earlier this week, and I’m already on my way home. No use in trying to change my mind on this when it’s already done.” 

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you were met with radio silence; Your mother was speechless. There’s a beat of silence before she speaks again. Secretly, inside you’re smug. You’ve managed to outsmart her.

“You’re on the road right now?” She asked in that familiar disapproving short tone.

“As we speak,” you shifted, holding the wheel with one hand and slouching in your seat. Your mother sighed again.

“Stop that,” she said, displeasure evident in her voice.

“Stop what, mama? Driving?”

“Stop sounding so smug,” She scolded in that tone that all mothers have perfected, before addressing you by your full name. “This is gonna upset your Gramma. The last thing she wanted was you putin’ your whole life on hold for this.”

“‘For this?’” You asked in disbelief. “Mama, I can’t believe you waited more than a whole month to tell me the cancer was back in the first place! As if it was none of my business!” 

You could practically hear her eye-roll through the phone. 

“Now don’t be ridiculous.” She simpered. “We didn’t wanna upset you is all. And we certainly didn’t want you doin’ something so rash, like this.” 

You rolled your eyes. This woman was impossible. 

“Mom, I’d been considering leaving for a long time. My lease was up, Carla got married. This was just the final nail in the coffin. It was a long time comin’.”

“But you seemed so happy, baby.” she cooed. 

“I don’t care! I deserve to know if my grandma is dying or not, and you have no right to keep it from me!”

You were met with silence. It was your turn to sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she conceded softly. “I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I was just scared of something like this happening. You can’t expect me to believe that this whole thing didn’t cause you to up and move home out of the blue.”

“I know, mama, but it’s the truth.” You paused, before continuing, “I put in my notice weeks ago. I’ve missed home. A lot. The city is…so loud. And there are no mountains near Chicago. The land is so flat, and–”

“I know baby, I know.” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the line.

 She was no doubt calling from the landline in the kitchen at the old house. Thinking of it, your heart yearned. You missed it so much.

“It’s just that this was your dream, baby. And I just know your Gramma’s gonna blame herself for you giving that up.”

“Mom, I’m not giving anything up,” you emphasized the last part, trying to get it through her head. “I still have my dreams, Chicago just wasn’t it. It took me a while to realize that, but I have. And I have no idea where I wanna go or what I wanna do next, but I do know that I miss home. I was planning on coming back even before I found out.”

“Alright,” she began, but you wouldn’t let her continue. You needed to get this out. 

“And, that combined with the fact that Gramma’s cancer is back means there’s nothin’ you can do to stop me.”

“Alright,” she sighed on the other line. “I suppose there’s nothin’ I can do about it now. How did you find out in the first place? You never mentioned in that hysterical voicemail you left–”

“I had reason to be hysterical, don’t you think? Findin’ out from Jimmy Logan and all.”

“Jimmy Logan?” she asked in surprise. “Now what were you doin’ talkin’ to him? Did he finally buck up and get a cell phone?”

“Yes, he did,” you chuckled, “Mellie finally convinced him. Anyway, after she helped him get his contacts in order, the first thing he did was give me a ring, saying how sorry he was to hear about Gramma bein’ sick again.”

“But how? I didn’t even tell Jimmy Logan. The only people we told were the ladies in prayer group.”

You laughed.

“Oh, you know how word gets around. Jimmy heard it from Earl at the hardware store, who heard it from Irene, who heard it from her momma, who, if I’m not mistaken, is in your prayer group.”

“Well,” your mother huffed. “I suppose that is how it goes. I’ll tell you one thing, your Gramma will be happy to see you, no matter the circumstance.”

“I know,” you sighed,  glad that the air was at least a little cleared between you. You were still hurt that she’d kept something as important as your Gramma’s illness from you, but you understood where she was coming from. She just wanted what was best for you, wanted you to have everything she didn’t.

“Speaking of them Logans,” your mom said. “Have you told her you’re coming home?”

You laughed into the phone.

“Yes, Mellie knows I’m coming home.” You were surprised that she’d even assumed you hadn’t told the youngest Logan about your returning. She’d kill you if you didn’t.

“Good. I know she’s missed you. Last week while she was doin’ my hair, she told me a girl’s weekend every few months and a phone call just wasn’t cutting it.”

Mellie’s face flashed in your mind, and the feeling of dread at returning home started to dissipate. She had that effect on you; Ever since you met nearly 20 years earlier. You smiled, as your mind drifted back to then.

1995

You’d never imagined coming to a new school would ever be this hard. You’d expected it to be like how you’d seen it happen in TV shows or books or those kids movies you liked so much; Where after a rocky start with school bullies, the new kid fell in with the perfect group of friends and everything was fine. That was what you’d anticipated: The melodrama, the excitement. What you hadn’t expected was the monotony and loneliness.

Entering the third grade in october–two and a half months into the term–was never easy. At least that’s what your grandma had told you, and her being your grandma, you were inclined to believe her. 

“It’s not gonna be easy,” she’d told you. “And kids can be real mean, darlin’. Especially when you’re new and they don’t know you. But, you just show them how kind, and special, and smart, and funny you are, and you won't have no problem fittin’ in.”

And you’d expected it to be that easy. Boy were you wrong.

On your first day at Daniel Boone Elementary, you’d expected to be met with a little wariness (what with being the new kid and all), but had hoped, in the end, to make at least one new friend to tell your mom and grandma about when you got off the bus and went home. Instead, you got the usual strange introduction to the class by your new teacher, and that was that. No kids even came up to talk to you. You ate your PB&J sandwich alone at lunch, and spent recess alone on the swings. 

The following months went by in a similar manner: no new friends in sight. All the girls in your class were either too preoccupied with your hand-me-down clothes to play with you, or too shy to. And the boys wanted nothing to do with the weird new girl with too-knobby knees and too-big teeth because even if you liked the exact same things as them, you were still a girl, which meant you had cooties. 

So, at home you’d drift away and pass your time the only time you knew how: through stories. Whether it be babysitters’ club books or PBS kids documentaries on your grandma’s old box TV, your head was always in the clouds. You’d be cryptic when your grandma or mom would ask about school, and they’d begun to notice. Before the snow came and the world froze over for winter, you’d also begun to explore the property behind your grandma’s house, getting lost in nature as you used to. 

By spring, your grandma was at a standstill. 

The snow was thawing, and after a winter indoors, she was at her wits end. She could recognize a depressive episode when she saw one, and the fact that she was seeing it in you, her eight-year-old granddaughter, made her heart break all the more.

She had been just about ready to call an intervention with the school’s principal and psychologist when it happened. You met the person who would change your life.

You’d met Mellie Logan once before, roughly a month after your arrival in Boone County, when you were still new enough to be considered the least bit interesting at Daniel Boone Elementary. She was a year older than you and about a head shorter, with the same shade of rich brown hair as the older boy you’d recognized her sit with on the bus; Her brother, Jimmy Logan who was a middle schooler, but not the least bit embarrassed to sit by his little sister on the ride home, tugging playfully on her braids. She was in Ms. Granfell’s class down the hall, with whom your class shared a recess and lunch time, along with some of the 6th graders. 

It had been on the bus that you’d had your brief first encounter with Mellie Logan. She and about five other kids got off a few stops before yours, down Elm street, and rather than the fact that she had one older brother, that was about all you knew about the girl, and that was all the thought you’d given to her. 

The encounter was a small one: your backpack had been in the aisle as the kids filed in from the school at the end of a school-day in early November and she’d muttered a quiet “pardon me,” as she passed you to her usual seat at the back of the bus where her brother was already seated, and that was that. You barely knew her.

Now, though, as you sat in the school principal’s office, bright fluorescent lights shining over the deep mahogany desk, you felt that all of that was going to change. Mellie sat beside you, eyebrows knit together obstinately as she stared directly ahead of her at the clock on the opposite wall, frowning.

It read: 1:23. You sighed.

That meant that you were missing library time with the rest of your class while being holed up in here, waiting while the principal made calls to each of your parents that they had to come pick you up and discuss the incident.

Your stomach sunk in annoyance as you crossed your arms and slumped down further into the armchair next to Mellie. 

 Great, now they have even more of a reason to think I’m weird, you thought. That was the last thing you needed. You were already having a hard time fitting in in the first place, with girls like Heather Campbell making faces at you and snickering when it was your turn to answer a question or read aloud to the class. You didn’t need to be known as the weird new girl who’d also gotten into a fight with a sixth grader. 

You groaned in realization that that was exactly what you’d be known as from now on. You ran a hand over your face. And just wait until your mom found out, until your Gramma found out. Your life was over.

At that, Mellie looked over at you, her formerly sour expression turned questioning at your sudden outburst.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, moving to sit on her hands. Her legs were swinging back and forth off of the edge of the seat of the chair. She looked more bored than anything else, which was wild to you, considering the insane amount of trouble you both were about to be in the moment your parents walked through that door.

You looked at her like she was insane, her freckled face a picture of nonchalance, and sighed. Your heart was at the pit of your stomach as you watched the small round clock tick by, each second drawing closer to what was bound to be the end of your eight years on this planet.

You hadn’t intended to get involved. You really hadn’t. But when you’d seen the trampled, embarrassed look in his deep brown eyes, you didn’t know what else you could do.

 It was, surprisingly, not in your nature to be confrontational at this point in your life. Though you’d later grow to be quite the headstrong person, the years spent walking around on eggshells with Keith had taken a toll on your personality. You liked to avoid conflict with even your family, nevertheless with the mean fourth graders you’d always hear snickering at people during lunchtime. But when you’d heard them picking on the lanky boy with messy dark hair something within you had snapped.

It was breakfast for lunch day, aka: the best day of the week, and when the bell rang  signaling the beginning of lunchtime you moved as fast as your legs could carry you to the cafeteria.

You stepped into the line behind a tall, lanky boy who had to be at least a few years older than you. You recognized him from your bus; He lived on the same street as Mellie and her brother, and like you, always sat by himself on the bus. You thought that he was probably the only kid who was as quiet as you. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever even heard the stoic boy utter a word in the month and a half you’d spent riding home with him. His face always seemed to stay the same too, you’d noticed. 

Not that you’d been watching him, you corrected yourself.

Right now, though, the boy smiled at you as you came up behind him. A tight-lipped, shy one at that, but his dark eyes shone with genuine kindness that you were almost too flustered to know what to do. Such kindness, even small ones like this, had been few and far between in your time in Boone County. It’d been lonely, and this little boy’s smile made it feel a little less so. A part of you wondered if this town had been similarly lonely for him too. You smiled back.

The sound of giggling broke you from your blatant staring at the boy in front of you. Two girls had entered the line behind you. You didn’t know their names, but you recognized them from the time you had spent people-watching during your month or so of eating alone. The taller one was blonde, with long straight hair and thick braces covering her teeth as she smiled right past you and to the boy standing in front of you. Her counterpart was shorter and a bit stouter, with short pin-curls that practically stuck to her hair. Your stomach dropped as you took in the looks on both of their faces. Their smiles were anything but kind as they looked right through and onto the boy who was oblivious to what was coming.

You weren’t though. Just last week, you’d seen the pair of girls push a little girl in your class off of the monkey bars for “taking their spot,” when you knew for a fact that that girl had been there for all of recess already. Before that, you’d seen them ridicule another girl for her new haircut that had come out much shorter than expected until she cried. These were two girls you knew not to cross, and here they were, sights set on the boy in front of you whose name you didn't even know. And you were caught in the middle of it. 

“Uhm, excuse me?” The blonde girl asked, reaching across you and tapping the boy on the shoulder. Her face was twisted in barely held-in laughter, while beside her, her friend’s face held an identical.

The boy turned, eyes wide and curious. Kind. Unaware of exactly how nasty these two could be. 

“Y-yeah?” He asked, voice cracking when he stuttered. The blonde looked over to her friend and then back at him.

“Your name’s Clyde, right?” She asked, head tilting.

“Uhm, yeah, tha’s right.” He smiled, bashful. Ears twinged red.

Clyde. That was the boy’s name. It fit him, you thought. 

Her friend popped in. “Say, ain’t you a Logan?” She asked, face spread in what seemed like a kind smile. 

Something you didn’t buy. You thought as you grabbed an orange from the selection of fruit.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, moving down the line. He picked up a strawberry milk carton before moving further down where the french toast sticks were. You continued to eavesdrop, feeling the most awkward you had in a while as the conversation continued with you, quite literally, in the middle of it.

“Well, Clyde Logan,” the blonde continued, reaching for an identical carton of strawberry milk. Her face was smug. “There’s something Quinn and I have been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

“What’s that?” he asked, curious. He looked at her, eyes open and welcoming and you dreaded the next words that were going to come out of her mouth. It wasn’t gonna be good.

“We were just wondering,” she snorted halfway through, hand coming to her mouth. “Sorry, we were just wondering if you’d done something to upset your momma?”

He chuckled awkwardly, obviously confused, and flicked some dark hair behind his ear. “Pardon me?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Oh, nothin’. It’s just you had to have done something to have earned a haircut like that.”

Beside her, her friend had given up on controlling her laughter. Wheezing, her friend–Quinn–interjected.

“Or maybe your hairdresser hates you? What did you do to make someone let you walk out of the house like that?” She giggled.

“Don’t be silly, Quinn. The Logans can’t afford a hairdresser. It had to have been his momma. I mean, really Clyde, you had to have done somethin’ bad.” The blonde chimed in again.

“Although, maybe it’s not the haircut, Heather.” Quinn piped in casually, serving herself french toast. “That’s not fair to his momma. It’s those ears. They stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Mhm,” the blonde, heather, nodded. “I think you’re right. And his nose. It's so big. That’s what makes you so unfortunate looking. Not the hair at all.”

Clyde looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Surprise coloring his features, the smallest frown upon his lips.

“Or , you know what,” Heather considered, piling bacon onto her lunch tray. “It’s probably that curse your sister wouldn’t shut up about last year. What’d she call it?”

“The Logan Family Curse.” Quinn chimed in. Heather laughed. 

“That must be it!” She giggled in that snotty, preteen way. “Who knew that the Logan family curse was being cursed with bein’ uglier than a mud fence!”

“Or having ears the size of Dumbo’s.” 

Looking over at Clyde, you saw his eyes glassy with unshed tears as he looked down at his lunch tray. Crestfallen. It sent white hot anger surging through your chest, and before you could register it, you were turning to face the two girls beside you in line.

“Just because he has straight teeth and you don’t doesn’t mean you have to be mean.” You glared at her. Her smug face morphed into one of anger as her eyes hardened into a glare.

“Excuse me?” she asked. Beside her, Quinn’s eyebrows rose to her hairline.

“You heard me, brace-face.” You stood your ground, glaring right back at her. She gasped at the insult, not ready for a taste of her own medicine. An identical look of horror crossed her companion’s face. From behind you, you heard a familiar high voice call out.

“Clyde? Where are you–” Mellie looked confused, her eyes following the lanky, dark-haired figure racing out of the cafeteria, leaving his lunch tray deserted in line next to you. Her gaze hardened as she looked over at you and the two girls in line. She stomped over, arms crossed.

“What did you say to him?” She demanded, looking between you three. When no one spoke up, she asked again, louder.

“What did you say to my brother?” She seethed. Heather looked at Quinn, an amused smirk on her face. 

“Oh, you mean Dumbo?” She asked.

“Nothing–we just gave him some beauty advice,” Quinn descended into the same annoying laughter as her friend. 

What happened next was a blur to you. There was a hand in someone’s hair, another pushing someone's shoulder, and the sound of a hand smacking against someone’s face. You were pushed backwards–by who, you didn’t know–and your half-full lunch tray came down on top of you, covering you in scrambled eggs and syrup. Heather screeched like a banshee, and Quinn started crying. A lunch monitor ran over to break it up, and before you knew it, Heather was being sent to the nurse and you and Mellie to the principal’s office. 

Which brings you to now.

You sat, smelling of eggs and syrup, and waiting for your life to end. After a few minutes of silence, you looked to the scrappy, brooding girl next to you. 

“Did you have to hit her?” You asked, breaking the silence. Scoffing, she turned to look at you. 

“Uhm, yeah I had to hit her.” She spat out incredulously. “She was makin’ fun of my big brother. You don’t let people mess around with your kin.” 

“But–” you began before she interrupted you, seemingly not hearing you at all. That was something you’d grow to find out was a habit of hers whenever she talked about something she was passionate about. 

“And I’d do it again, too,” she said, stubbornly. “I don’t care what Mrs. Findlay says. If you ask me, Heather Campbell had it comin’ and needed to be knocked down a few pegs. I’m only sad I got caught.”

Her matter-of-fact made you giggle a little bit. After all, you couldn’t disagree with her; You’d seen Heather and Quinn unleash their wrath before. Many times in the short time you’d been in town. They needed to be put in their place. And you were glad you’d had at least a small part in doing it, even if it did put a target on your back and was bound to make your life hell indefinitely. 

“I am sorry you got involved, though,” Mellie said. “It ain’t fair you got roped into all a’ my trouble-makin’.” 

You chuckled a bit.

“Nah,” you sighed. “Before you walked up, I did say some pretty nasty things to them. I guess I deserved it.”

Mellie, looking surprised at that, snorted.

 “You?” she asked, eyes wide in apparent disbelief. “You said somethin’ to Heather Campbell?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” you asked, brows furrowed. “And yes, I’ll have you know, I did say something to her.”

“Nothin’.”  Mellie said, “it’s just that in all the time you’ve been here, I ain't heard you speak but about two times.”

“I couldn’t let her talk to him like that when he didn’t do nothin’ to deserve it.” You said. “Besides, I was tired of hearin’ her run her mouth all the time and no one sayin’ anything.”

“Well alrighty then.” She said.

 A beat of silence passed, the only sound being the ticking of the clock. Then, “what did you say to her?”

You snorted. 

“I called her brace-face.” You admitted sheepishly. Beside you, Mellie howled in laughter and after a moment, you joined her.

“You know,” she said pensively, smiling at you, all trace of a sour mood gone, “I think we’re gonna be good friends.”

You smiled back at her, the first real one in a while. 

“Me too.” And you meant it. 

Present Day

Your mother’s voice snapped you back to reality. 

“And what about him?” she asked carefully, words thick with meaning. “Does he know you’re comin’ back?”

You sighed. “Mama, why would he know I’m coming back? Why would he care that I’m coming back?”

“Darlin’, I didn’t mean it like that–”

“He didn’t bother telling me when he came back. I had to find out from Mellie, a month after the fact.” You continued, that familiar white-hot feeling in your chest resurfacing. “Besides, I’m sure Mellie mentioned it to him. She’d have to if he’s gonna continue this disappearing act of his.”

“That’s not fair, baby, and you know it.” She scolded, ever the mother. It didn’t matter that you were twenty-five, she’d always put you in your place when it came down to it. “He’s been through a lot.”

“I’m sure he has,” you agreed half-heartedly. 

“And–”

“--Not that I’d know about it! He hasn’t spoken so much as a word to me in years. Not for lack of trying on my part either, you know that mom.”

“I know, baby, I know,” she said. This was a conversation you’d had before. And no matter how many times you did, she’d always brought up the same points. 

And now, Clyde Logan had been home for more than two years, but felt like a ghost. Your family hadn’t heard a thing from him. According to your cousin Zach, Jimmy had wanted to throw a coming-home party for him, but had canceled it last minute. You didn’t know what he was doing now.

You knew better than to ask Mellie about it. She was your best friend, yes, but you wouldn’t put her in that position. You wouldn’t make her choose sides or play middle-man between you and her brother. And she knew better than to bring it up with you, too. She saw her brother’s idiocy, and, more importantly, she saw how hurt you were after all that had happened. 

So, Clyde generally wasn’t brought up between the two of you. Not in great detail, anyway. No matter how much you knew she had to reign herself in over it. Your best friend was a fixer at heart, and that instinct didn’t go away when it came to her best friend and her brother. 

“Let’s just drop it, mom.” You said. “I am not coming home for Clyde Logan, of all people. I’m just happy to be coming home at all.” 

“Well, that makes two of us.” she laughed lightly on the other end. “How far out are you?” she asked.

“I’m about halfway through Indiana right now.”

“Whew,” she whistled. “What a drive.”

You laughed at her sarcasm. “Oh yeah, nothin’ but cornfields for miles. That  is somethin’ I won’t be missing, that’s for sure.”

“Good.” she said, “You’d better get a move-on if you wanna be home before dinner, then. I’ll call your cousins and see who can make it.”

Your heart leapt at the thought of it, seeing the family again. You’d missed living in the same county as them all; Not having to drive hours to hug your grandma, to hear your aunt Nikki’s laugh, or to engage in yet another political conversation with your uncle Mike. 

“That sounds perfect.”

“Alright then. Your Gramma’s gonna be surprised, that’s for sure. And i’m warnin’ you now: She will not be as easily swayed as I am at your comin’ back.”

“Yeah, I know.” You shook your head. “I’ll start preparing my speech now.”

“You better!” She laughed, “I’m gonna let you go, babe. Call your aunts. Love you.”

“Love you too, momma.” You sighed, as the call ended. 

The late May sun shone through the clouds, as you steered off of the freeway to continue south. Toward home. 

- - 

It was well past seven in the evening before everyone left your grandmother’s house—and, I guess, your house too, for now—for dinner. 

It had worked: you’d made it home, finally, and even though your grandmother wasn’t happy with you for returning, she understood why. It’d been too long since you’d been home for more than a week or two. Even longer, if you didn’t count the summers you’d come home during college. 

After Clyde had left for his third tour, things weren’t the same. You always hosted holidays after that, or visited your extended family in Charleston. You’d missed your hometown, yes. But the pain you felt at how you and Clyde left things hurt you more. Only now, after six months of therapy and the terrifying possibility that your grandmother was dying, did you feel even remotely comfortable enough to come back. 

Now, after a long, loud meal with your extended family, you wondered why you’d left at all. The anxiety you’d felt driving into the county limits earlier that evening had dissipated. Home has a funny way of doing that: letting you ease right back in like you’d never left. 

Your cousins were getting bigger—now nearly teenagers—and your aunts inquired about your personal life over dinner. Now, after the coffee had gone cold and your last relative had gone home, you helped your grandmother with the dishes—much to her chagrin. 

Your grandmother was a kind woman, a gentle woman, but she was also a proud woman, and more stubborn than even you.

“Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I’m inept, you know,” she slapped your hand away from where it had tried to venture into the soapy water of the sink. 

You sighed. So she’s still mad. 

“I know, Gramma,” you offered. “Just trying to help.”

She grumbled back, still focusing on scrubbing the plate in front of her. 

You gave up, moving instead to dry and put away the dishes she’d washed. As you began, she didn’t so much as spare you a glance, just hummed under her breath. 

The kitchen looked untouched from it had been growing up—the linoleum counters, tiled walls, and deep wood of the cabinets perpetually stuck in the 1970s. Some of the glassware your grandmother owned was from the seventies, or even before then, going back to when your mom and uncles were kids. You could tell from old family pictures that the house had changed little since they bought it in 1969. Even after so many years, your Gramma had refused to invest in a dishwasher, insisting on washing dishes by hand instead. 

You took a ceramic plate from the drying rack, toweling it off before opening the cabinet to put it away. The cabinet door had the same creak it always did. 

“You know,” you tossed over your shoulder at your grandmother. “I was planning on coming back for a while before I heard about the cancer.” 

“That’s what you keep sayin’,” she mumbled. “I can see right through ya, though, darlin’. You think I haven’t noticed you haven’t been home in years?” 

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the pang of guilt her words sent through you. 

“I’m sorry about that, Gramma, I am—“

“Oh, hush,” she waved a suds-covered hand at you, still not turning around. “Long as I get to see you, I don’t care where it is. What I’m trying to say is: you certainly would not have come home had it not been for my diagnosis.” 

You deflated a little; in a sense, she was right. You’d been considering returning before, that was true, but part of you deep down knew you wouldn’t have been successful if you hadn’t heard about her sickness. 

“What I can’t live with is you giving up your dreams for an old woman like me.”

You scoffed at that, coming up behind her and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. 

“Please,” you mumbled into the hug. “You couldn’t have kept me away. I would’ve found out at some point.” 

She sighed, hugging you back and leaning into you. 

“‘Suppose you’re right,” she acquiesced. “Doesn’t mean I’ve gotta be happy about it though.” 

“That’s fair,” you chuckled, letting go and taking another plate from the drying rack. “But you can’t get mad at me. It should be me angry at you for keeping it from me for as long as you did.”

She turned to you then, wiping her wet hands off with a towel. There was a strange look in her eyes as she took you in, eyeing you head to toe. She snapped out of it after a moment and offered you a smile. 

“Hm,” she hummed, bringing a weathered hand to cup your cheek. “I couldn’t stay angry at you even if I tried.”

You smiled cheekily at her. 

“I know.”

“Hm,” she chuckled, pinching your cheek lightly and patting it. “Now let me finish these up. Mellie’ll be here soon and you haven’t even taken your suitcase up yet.”

You nodded and put the last plate away. 

“I’ll turn the radio on for you,” you smiled. “It’s too quiet around here.”

“Alright sugar,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You won’t be sayin’ that come Monday. I’ve got your cousins after school most weekdays. And I thought you were a handful.” 

You chuckled. 

One thing about your family was true: none of you were boring—especially the little ones. They kept your grandmother on her toes. 

“I’m looking forward to that,” you chuckled. That was another thing you regretted about moving so far away: not being there to watch your little cousins grow up.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said. “You might be reconsidering moving back after a few days.”

“Unlikely,” you snorted. “I’m hard to scare off. Well, now anyway.”

Your grandmother sent you a sympathetic smile then, and you knew she’d forgiven you. You twitched a little under her gaze. She almost looked like she pitied you. You understood if she did; she was the one to bear the brunt of your heartache when everything between you and Clyde had blown up. Still, it wasn’t a time you liked to dwell on. 

“So, you think you’re finally over that Logan boy?” She asked, crossing her arms and facing you.

You sighed; it was just like your grandmother to not mince words or beat around the bush.

“Jesus, Gramma,” you raked a hand over your face. 

“What?” she asked defensively. “Would you rather me tip-toe around you like everyone else? Your mama won’t ask, and you’ve banned Mellie from mentioning that boy.”

“So you thought you’d…” your words trailed off, not understanding exactly why she was bringing this up now. 

“I thought I’d mention the elephant in the room. Call it curiosity, sugar,” she smirked at you. “I just figured that since he was the one that kept you away for so long—”

“Gramma, you know he’s not the only reason l left—”

“I know, I know,” she held up a hand to stop you. “But I remember how you were when you left. In the months before. Barely leaving the house, not talking to anyone. Whatever he did, it did a number on you. I don’t want you getting like that again—”

You softened. She was worried about you, of course she was. Your grandmother was nothing if not a mama bear. 

“Trust me, Gramma. You do not have to worry Clyde Logan of all people. I’ve been over it for a while, I think. I’ll be okay.”

“Hm,” she scrutinized you through narrowed eyes, before nodding. “Alright. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thanks, Gramma.”

“You ever gonna tell me all that happened with him?” 

“Maybe one day,” you smiled at her sadly. 

She nodded at you in understanding. 

“Alright, babydoll. You go get ready.”

As you walked up the familiar steps to your childhood bedroom, listening to Patsy Cline drift through the old kitchen radio, you smiled to yourself at the familiarity of it all.

- - 

“Trust me,” Camila grabbed your shoulder from the back of Mellie’s ‘85 silverado—her pride and joy and newest fixer upper. “This place is great, and it helps that we don’t have to drive all the way to Madison like we did back in the day.”

You snorted at how your friends were trying to sell you on this new dive bar. Where you’d wanted to go out in Madison like the old days, they’d insisted you stay local tonight.

You shifted in the denim cut-offs that Mellie had insisted you wear. You hadn’t worn them out since your senior year of college. Hell, you hadn’t been out since your senior year of college.

She’d showed up at your door at exactly eight o’clock on the dot, intent on getting you dolled up for a night out. Camila and Gwen, two of your best friends from high school, had shown up soon after. It was like old times—playing your old CDs, the smell of cheap perfume and hair-straighteners flooding your childhood bedroom. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be nervous about going out. Now, two hours later with a new outfit and your hair and makeup done to perfection, you were off to check out the newest haunt in town. 

It’d been big news when the place had opened about nine months ago. It wasn’t every day that a new business opened in Logan, so obviously it was the talk of the town. Even you’d heard about it all the way in Chicago. Duck Tape was its name and it had been renovated into a bar from an old bait and tackle shop. And apparently, since its opening, it’d become a staple of your small community. You’d been promised that you’d run into at least five people from high school here, maybe more. It was also in the middle of nowhere. 

“We’re basically driving the same distance, Cami.” You laughed. From beside you in the driver’s seat, Mellie smirked. 

“Don’t rain on her parade.” She teased. “Cami’s just trying to explain away the real reason why she came here: she’s got it bad for the bouncer.”

Camila gasped and smacked Mellie’s shoulder. 

“That isn’t it at all, Mellie Logan and you know it!”

“Mmhm,” Gwen nodded from the other side of her, very obviously not buying any of it. “It has nothing to do with the six-feet, tall, dark, and handsome bouncer. I believe you, Cami.”

You laughed at her sarcasm. 

“I don’t know why you don’t put yourself out of your misery and just get his number,” Mellie asks from the front seat, looking at Cami through the rearview mirror. 

“And risk rejection? Not a chance.”

You snorted at that, understanding completely. You’d had a few non-serious relationships here and there, but nothing that had stuck during your time in Chicago. And even then, they were alway the ones who had to make the first move. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupted. “Since when do any of these places need bouncers?”

When you were in high school, it was a given that no one underage would even try to get into a bar in Logan. It would have been pointless: everybody knew everybody here, so even if you had the good sense to get a fake ID, you’d be at the sheriff’s station before you had time to order your first drink.

“Since these kids are gettin’ more and more ballsy,” Gwen answered you. “‘Bout a year ago coach Garrison’s kid got busted for drinking underage at Tulman’s. Ever since, they’ve been IDing at the door.”

Tulman’s was the other bar in town, nestled in the heart of downtown. 

“I bet coach was pissed.”

“You have no idea,” Cami nodded, picking at her manicured nail. “Gave hell to the guy who owns the place. That’s just another reason why I like Duck Tape better.”

Gwen groaned from beside her. Mellie just laughed. 

Mellie sighed beside you, reaching for the gear-shift. “Just ask him out. You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

“Oh please,” Cami laughed, speaking up over the sound of Garth Brooks’ voice coming from the speakers. “Stick to hairdressing, Mel. You’d make a shit motivational speaker.” 

A chorus of laughs sounded as Mellie took a sharp turn off of the highway and onto the mountain road where the bar was. 

This was so familiar: you and your girlfriends, all dressed up and piling into one car to go out as if you were somewhere glamorous like New York City and not in Boone County, West Virginia. The chatter of the girls around you was comforting, and you relished in it. 

This, you thought. This is home.

- - 

You dropped your glass when he walked in, brushing past the bouncer with a large hand on his shoulder. Your stomach dropped.

The glass shattered at your feet, sending cranberry juice and vodka splattering over your boots and calves. A few people surrounding you jumped as well, moving away from the shattered glass on the floor. Beside you, Camila started. 

“Jesus,” she cried, grabbing your bare shoulder and looking at you. She was trying to get your attention, you knew, but you couldn’t bring your eyes away from the imposing figure of Clyde Logan, who just walked into the bar. “You okay? What—shit.”

She saw him too. 

“Mellie,” you heard her whisper, trying to get the attention of your friend who was too-busy flirting with a man in a stetson beside you. Gwen was in the bathroom. “Mellie.” 

He was tall—just as tall as he’d always been, but even more imposing. His shoulders stretched broadly across the dark blue button-up he had on. He wore worn blue jeans and work boots and still had that stiff, ramrod-straight posture that he’d come back from basic training with. You blinked. 

He was here. He was here. 

Even after years, he had an effect on you. You felt stuck to the floor, frozen in place as he made his way to the bar, his left side facing away from you. His dark hair was longer than you’d ever seen it, curling around his ears and down his neck thickly. You couldn’t tell much from the dim-lighting, but you could detect a bit of a stubble along his jaw and above his lip. 

Lord have mercy, he was beautiful. 

He was gorgeous–even more so than you remembered him. It made your chest ache.

“What?” Mellie turned to Cami, a flirty laugh in her voice.

“Look.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke. 

“Fuck.” Mellie spat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. He said he wasn’t working tonight.”

You breathed in a ragged breath, everything feeling all of a sudden too much. The neon lights, the chatter of people from all sides of you invaded your senses. The early summer heat was cloying at your skin in the crowded bar. You felt boxed in on all sides. 

“I’m just going to,” you mumbled, finally tearing your eyes away from Clyde, who was talking to the man behind the bar. You didn’t finish the sentence, instead electing to train your gaze on your boots and try to make your way to the bar door. 

Behind you, you heard Mellie call your name. You ignored her, breathing deeply as you tried to navigate your way to the door. 

Air, you told yourself. I need some air. Then I’ll be fine. 

You tried to push yourself past a particularly large group, squeezing between two peoples’ backs. One of them moved backwards, their foot moving to step in front of yours.

Your boot caught on the foot, and you tumbled forward, losing your balance. 

You tripped, scrambling, reaching out with your arms to break your fall as you tumbled.

Only, instead of continuing to fall to the ground, you stumbled into something. Or rather, someone. 

Your hands landed on a broad chest, and you felt an arm snake its way around your middle, attempting to steady you. You let out a breath, finding your footing. 

You brought your gaze up, an apology on your lips.

“Shit,” you mumbled, pulling your hands back from the stranger’s chest frantically. “I’m sorry—”

Brown eyes stared back at you, brows drawn together and full of confusion. Freckles scattered familiarly across his cheekbones and his lips parted as he looked at you. 

Clyde. 

You took a large step back, away from him, nearly stumbling again. He looked nearly as shocked as you felt, wide eyes taking you in from head to toe. After all, it had been over two years since you’d seen each other. 

You did the same—eyes moving down his thick neck, his broad shoulders, down his chest. He was still so much taller than you.

This was all too much. 

You could feel the panic setting back in your bones, and you blinked rapidly, moving to shove past him to the door, your legs carrying you before your mind could catch up.

When you did, he snapped out of it, moving to the side to block you and shoulder-checking you in the process. When he did, something firm and stiff—foreign—jabbed into your stomach, causing you to jerk away, even more past him.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you turned to see—

What you saw made the breath leave your chest. 

There, strapped to what remained of Clyde’s arm was a prosthetic. 

- - 

Tears fell thick and hot down your cheeks as you rested your face between your knees on the side of the dingy bar. The rough wood of the paneling on the outside of the bar dug into your back through the thin shirt Mellie had convinced you to wear, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your mind was elsewhere.

Gone. Clyde’s left arm was gone–or at least part of it was. 

Hurt flooded your chest at the thought of it; your once-best friend returning home from war, part of him missing, alone, and you weren’t there. He’d had to do it alone.

Another wave of tears came. 

How could you not have known?

Everyone knew everything about everyone in Logan. It was the way of things and it always had been. It was how you’d found out about your Gramma’s illness, it was how word had spread like wildfire when Mellie’s boyfriend in tenth grade cheated on her, and it was how the whole town knew Bobbie Jo was pregnant with Sadie before Jimmy did. But this. 

It struck you all at once; everyone knew. Of course everyone knew. Camila, Gwen, Mellie. Your mother. They all had known and still didn’t tell you. 

You felt like someone had torn your heart from your chest. 

The sound of gravel crunching under boots tore your gaze up. You knew who it was before he called your name. You’d know the sound of his step anywhere. 

Clyde Logan walked toward you, arms clasped behind his back, dark eyes wary. He always looked like this when he was nervous. Even now, you couldn’t believe he was standing before you after so long. Even now, you couldn’t contain the slow simmer of anger that flared in your gut at the sight of him.

He stood there a minute, eyes on yours, before he cleared his throat. 

“How…uh, how long you been back?” He offered softly, eyes never once leaving yours. 

The slow simmer in your gut reached a boil. You stood to your feet, lip curling at him. You didn’t care enough to wipe your face of tears.

“Really?” You asked harshly, voice slightly raised. Clyde flinched at your tone. “That’s what you have to say to me Clyde Logan—after three years?”

Clyde bit his lip and looked down. He sighed. 

“Junebug—-”

“Do not,” you hissed at him, glaring up at his pained expression. “You do not get to call me that anymore.”

He just stared at you, a pained expression on his face. 

It didn't surprise you—Clyde had never had a way with words. Even as kids, even as best friends, it had been hard for him to express himself. He was quiet. Now was no exception. 

“Did you get my letters?” You hated that your voice warbled. 

Clyde’s eyes fell to his boots and you knew the answer from the guilty expression that crossed his face. 

You scoffed, even more anger bubbling inside you at the confirmation. 

After the fight—the one that sent you packing, right before his third deployment, you’d written him. Countless times, apologizing, explaining yourself, begging him for a response, anything. And you’d never heard anything back. 

“I wrote you for months, Clyde.” You said, voice softer now. “When you were over there, I had to get updates from Mellie. Or from my mom, because you wouldn’t write me back. You wouldn’t answer my calls. I didn’t know if you were hurt, or if you—”

You stopped yourself, sniffing. 

You stared at his prosthetic arm, finally able to get a better look at it.

 It began just under his elbow, strapped on there to give the illusion of a full-limb. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. 

“Ugly, ain’t it?” He asked, noting how your stare held there. Your eyes snapped to his. 

You scoffed, ignoring him and looking away. 

“I didn’t say that,” you muttered, drying your face with your palm.

“I told Mellie not to tell you,” he blurted. “After. Made her swear not to. Don’t be mad at her.”

You sighed. 

You weren’t angry at her; you couldn’t be. Shortly after you’d realized he wanted nothing to do with you, you’d made any talk of Clyde strictly off-limits in your friendship. Even if she’d wanted to tell you, it was off limits. That was not the case, however, with your own family.

You’d be having words with your mother and grandmother when you returned home. 

“My relationship with Mellie is none of your business,” you glared up at him. “It hasn’t been for a long time.”

Clyde scoffed now, the soft, reserved look gone from his eyes and replaced by annoyance. 

“What?” you asked. “You got something to say? Say it.”

“Fine,” he barked. “Three years and you haven’t changed a bit.”

Oh, so he was pulling that card, you thought, thinking back to your last argument. You laughed humorlessly. 

“Oh, I haven’t changed?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “At least I had the balls to come back! At least I’m not a coward like you—”

“Coward?” He asked, voice low. 

“You heard me.” You spat, voice warbling again with anger. You hated that you got like this; whenever you were angry, you’d cry. “At least I have the stones to face my mistakes. I don’t run away from them, Clyde.” 

With that you walked away, leaving him standing there in the gravel of the Duck Tape parking lot. 

He made no move to follow you, thank god. 

You decided to call it a night, knowing any chance of letting loose was long gone. Though you weren’t angry with her, you didn’t think you could face Mellie or the girls again tonight. You pulled your cell phone from your bag and sent a quick text to the group chat, telling them you’d decided to head home. You sent a separate one to Mellie, telling her you weren’t mad at her but you needed some time. 

You walked back to the front of the bar, leaning on the wood of the front railing, and stared at the phone screen. Your mother and grandmother would be asleep by now, and even if they weren’t, you weren’t sure you wanted to see them anyway. You could always call your cousins—but doing that would open up the door to countless questions and speculations at why you were leaving Duck Tape looking an emotional wreck. 

Then, it hit you.

You found the contact easily and hit call; there was one person who you knew you could call whenever, wherever to come get you, no questions asked. You just hoped he was up.

[rakshaspeaks]

Recirculating this bc I will never stop loving Clyde Logan

Okay hear me out; Reylo/Logan Lucky mashup, something along the lines of -

Jimmy meets Rey, who’s the new mechanic at the local shop he takes his truck to when he just doesn’t have time to work on it himself

They get to talking and he ends up introducing her to Mellie

Cue 20+ chapters of Rey and Mellie being bffs over their shared love of fast cars

Mellie coming up with crazier and crazier hairstyles to try out on Rey

The two of them punking the shit out of uppity men who think girls shouldn’t be allowed to drive stick

‘Oh yeah, have you met my brother Clyde’

Clyde’s definitely going to be a little starstruck

After all he’s been hearing stories about this fantastic girl and all the trouble she’s been getting into with his sister from just about everybody who stops in at the bar

Rey’s obviously going to love him, this big soft man who can’t help but push free food at her every time she comes to the bar

He never says much but she feels like they’re friends at least

After the first time she breaks some punks nose for being a shit about Clyde’s arm he’s ready to marry her on the spot

Nobody but his siblings have ever really stood up for him like that

Rey has no idea how much it meant to him, after all, she was just doing what anybody would have done right??

One day while she’s working she overhears some of the locals talking about 'those big dumb Logan boys’ and she realizes that not everybody sees the Logan’s for what they are

Just because they talk slow and think about things a little different than most, somehow that must mean they’re not quite right in the head, not as civilized as the regular folks

That pisses her off big time

The Logan siblings have pretty much adopted her at this point

She didn’t know anybody when she moved to town, she was just trying to get away from her foster father/major creepo Plutt

Meanwhile Mellie’s decided she’s going to help fix Rey up with her brother

She mentions it to Clyde a couple of times, just to feel him out

Somehow he gets mixed up and thinks she’s talking about setting Rey up with Jimmy

That absolutely guts him, but he figures it makes sense

Rey does spend more time talking to Jimmy than him anyway

Nothing Mellie tries seems to be working

She’s not sure whether they’re both just that dense, or if Rey really isn’t interested in Clyde

Rey IS interested in Clyde, but he isn’t really giving her any encouragement

He thinks she’s just being nice because she feels bad for him

It hurts him too much to think about her with his brother so he starts shutting them both out

Jimmy has no idea what the hell’s going on and he’s been so busy with going back and forth to see his daughter that he hasn’t had time to sit down and talk

But after all, Mellie would tell him if anything was really wrong, right?

One day Rey ends up getting hurt and taken to the hospital

Jimmy’s out of town and Mellie’s not picking up her phone so eventually Clyde ends up getting the call and immediately rushes to her side

Rey’s embarrassed, it was a stupid mistake, she should have known better, its just her arm that’s broken there was no need to call anybody, she can look after herself

Clyde cuts her off saying 'just let me take care of you sweetheart’

She’s speechless, nobody’s ever really done that for her, and the fact that he would offer it so easily just floors her

They’re both trapped wanting to be together so badly and thinking its ridiculous that the other would ever feel the same

Okie imma go to bed now before I make myself cry from the combination of severe feels and sleep deprivation but I feel better now I’ve got that off my chest. 😘

[brideofkylosolo]

A random one shot

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙confidence | OP81˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: oscar piastri x reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, new relationship

warnings: very fluffy !!!

summary: in which your new boyfriend and your bffs support you in increasing your confidence <3

a/n: i've done a logan fic rly recently so i chose oscar !! wasnt 100% sure on how to execute this but hope i did an ok job :))

request!!!: hi! Could i please request a smau with oscar or logan about shy/insecure reader and a driver trying to boost their confidence. Thank you, youre amazing. Love ya 💓

-> this fanfic came from a request ^ tht i copy pasted above but i lost the request idk if i deleted it from my inbox by accident or just dreamed it up perhaps. but here it is anyway srry to whoever req it but i did write it at least hope this finds u well 🤓

fc: matilda djerf

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 47,812 others

yourusername havent posted in a while 🍓

view all 4,183 comments

user1 a y/n post who cheered

oscarpiastri me begging for a selfie

yourusername 🙄 u can see me whenever u want

user2 he's like us

user3 why does she never post herself😭😭

user4 booo we want more y/n content

user5 oscar looks so cute

yourbff lunch tomorrow

yourusername for sure

user6 luv how she doesnt even ask lol

user7 friendship goals

user8 dont even rmmbr what y/n looks like anymore 😭

yourbff

liked by logansargeant, yourusername, and 32,201 others

yourbff spring vibe 🌷

tagged: yourusername

view all 2,918 comments

user9 Y/N CRUMBS

user10 more y/n more y/n

oscarpiastri she is so beautiful

yourbff RIGHT?!! i wish she knew that

yourusername 🥲🥲

user11 omg?

user12 is y/n too shy to post herself often🥲

user13 y/n is a princess

user14 i wanna be friends with them

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 88,972 others

oscarpiastri i have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world

tagged: yourusername

view all 9,183 comments

user15 omg this is so cute

user16 oscar hyping her up omg

user17 he's sooooooo sweet i love them

yourusername omg stop

yourusername literally blushing irl

yourbff can confirm

oscarpiastri well good coz im telling the truth

yourusername 😭 i love u so much

oscarpiastri i love u too u perfect girl

user18 me when😭😭😭

user19 soulmates fr

twitter ->

messages ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 52,082 others

oscarpiastri so proud of u

yourusername 🥹

mclaren nice colour choice

liked by yourusername

user29 omg u went OFFFF y/n

user30 omg the orange yessss

landonorris papaya slay

yourusername yup so true lando.

landonorris oh ok i feel judged rn

yourusername dont say slay to me ever again then

yourbff YOU LOOK SO SO SO SO GOOD OH MY GOD

yourusername omg stop it u my number 1 fan

user31 we're so lucky rn

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 77,184 others

yourusername 🎀

tagged: oscarpiastri

view all 8,283 comments

user32 soooooo cute

user33 THE LIL LAMB

user34 we loved seeing u at the race y/n :))

oscarpiastri perfect beautiful amazing !

yourusername my 🌍

mclaren see you next time y/n 😉

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri

user35 next time🤭

user36 she's my fav wag

liked by yourusername

user37 i will always be y/n's biggest supporter

messages ->

instagram ->

yourbff

liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 39,182 others

yourbff felt cute

view all 6,047 comments

yourusername cool

yourbff who , me?

yourusername sure why not

user38 IS THAT LANDO IS THAT LANDO IS THAT LANDO IS THAT LANDO IS THAT LANDO

user39 lando norris is that u

oscarpiastri cool!!

yourbff stop saying cool

oscarpiastri i said it 1 (one) time

landonorris ♟️

liked by yourbff, yourusername, oscarpiastri

user40 omg i hope her & lando r dating so cute actually

user41 booo return my man to me pls y/bff/n

user42 i just know y/n is behind this (whatever this is)

landonorris posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 41,928 others

user43 omg i love them

user44 CUTIES

user45 omg they're in england

user46 so funny seeing them in a british pub

logansargeant free them from hell (the uk)

landonorris shut up american freak

logansargeant 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

user47 our aussie legends

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 67,021 others

yourusername i love my best friends in the whole world i am so lucky to be me and have the most supportive ppl in my life .. i may be the shyest babyest girl ever but at least i got my hype men (especially u osc)

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbff

view all 13,644 comments

user48 fourple

liked by yourusername, yourbff, landonorris, oscarpiastri

yourbff i love you so much i am soo proud

yourusername i 🧡 u my ride or die

user49 OMG I LOVE THEM

user50 it's giving mclarencest

user51 HAHAH WHAT

user52 🙏 we used to pray for times like these

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff

landonorris hype men reporting for business 🫡

yourusername thank u sir

user53 i love this dynamic

oscarpiastri OMG i love you

yourusername OMG i love you too

user54 so cute seeing her gain confidence over the season

user55 ikr feels so organic

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, logansargeant, and 88,173 others

oscarpiastri loml

tagged: yourusername

view all 16,928 comments

yourbff my favs foreverr

oscarpiastri 🧡

landonorris love you guys😻😻😻

oscarpiastri oh stop it you ..

user56 they r never beating the fourple accusations ^^

liked by landonorris

user57 y/n is the most gorgeous girl ever

user58 lando using the cat heart eyes emoji...?

user59 he's so girlypop

yourusername omg blushing

yourusername i love you

yourusername SOOOO MUCH

oscarpiastri i love you at least 1000x more

user60 obsessed

THE END 🧡

[imagineinside]

Eternal Claws (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

A/N (PLEASE READ): Hey guys! This is my first time writing for Wolverine... so please be nice, I am at your mercy lol. This is also an A/O/B fanfic, where the mutants also have a secondary gender that would have developed at the same time as their mutations (this is not the main part of the story though). My intention is for this to be a longer running fanfiction, as well as a verryyyyy slow burn :). If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea, then I will also be working on some oneshots soon, which you are more than welcome to give me some ideas to write about! Please let me know your feedback, I sincerely appreciate it!! :D

Summary: At a young age of 16, you find yourself saved from a group of hunters by no other mutant than The Wolverine, who reluctantly becomes your protector during your first heat. As weeks pass and you recover, a complex bond forms between yourself and the powerful mutant who had saved you.

Seven years later, now a confident young woman with refined mutant abilities, you encounter Wolverine again. Despite your growth and newfound strength, old feelings resurface as Wolverine returns from a secretive mission. As you navigate the challenges of your powers and your unspoken connection with him, you must come to terms with your past and the burgeoning feelings that might redefine your future.

Current Applicable Warnings: 18+ (not an explicit story yet, but there are hints of things in the upcoming chapters), canon-typical violence, age gap (like 200+ with a 25 yr old), Alpha!Logan, Omega!Reader, a/o/b universe, more to come.

Word Count: 2,884 we just getting started pookie

It was your unlucky day that The Wolverine was the mutant to find you alone out in the woods.

But it was lucky he got to you before the four hunters found you first, the sour tang of their arousal burning his sensitive nose. When he saw you laying in the fresh layer of snow, your body coated in sweat from your first heat (at least he guessed it was your first by how small and frail you were at the time), and your own honey-sweet scent drifting through the trees, he knew he was already in too deep with you.

“No,” you groaned, pushing against his chest in an attempt to protect yourself. The Wolverine would never admit it, but he actually felt a surge of empathy for the frail thing he held in his arms. 

He would definitely give Professor X a piece of his mind for selecting him of all mutants to go on this fetch quest to get you. Of course, there was no way of knowing you were on the brink of heat with a hoard of hungry men after you.

“The snow…” you mumbled as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt with what little strength you had. You were so precious, your face flushed a bright pink, an image he would never forget. “It’s too hot…”

The Wolverine groaned in frustration as you pushed yourself out of his arms and flopped back on the cold, hard forest floor where the four hunters' dead bodies lay not far from you now. He watched as you slowly made a circle of snow around yourself, most of it melting to the touch with the heat of your body temperature. He had seen this dance too many times to feign ignorance.

“Hey, bub,” he called out as he squatted on a nearby fallen tree, “I need to take you out of here before more charming men come to find you.”

It was as if you didn’t even hear him as you continued your work on the ground, bunching the snow up to help with your heat.

The Wolverine sighed and hung his head, accepting his fate as your caretaker for the next week in the unforgiving Alaskan wild…

* * *

It’s nearly an exact week later by the time you are back to your full senses. And it isn’t alone, either. From behind you there’s a rhythmic breathing and a cold presence sedating the still-burning embers inside you. All your joints are sore and there is still an empty aching from deep inside you, though you do your best not to focus on that specific ache.

In one quick flourish of movement, you quickly grab your shirt that you had at some point ripped off from excess heat and shuffled away from the… beast laying next to you.

“Relax,” the giant man groaned, rolling onto his back, “I was just here to prot-”

Acting on pure instinct, having just woken from a daze, you reached out and slapped him–hard–across the face. Enough to make the man, who is at least a good foot taller than you, stop dead in his tracks.

You watched as the muscles in his jaws flexed over and over before he slowly flicked his eyes back to you, “Fuck you sure got a powerful slap on ya there.”

Catching your breath, you looked around at your surroundings. There were deep gouges in sets of three on the nearby trees, on the ground, markings left in the general area… the smell of a strong male everywhere. “You were protecting me…” you mumbled more to yourself than him, yet he still caught the comment from under your breath.

“Glad you caught on, sweetheart,” he grumbled as he stood and slung on his leather jacket that was laid across a nearby stump. “Listen, I chased you and those four guys,” he said, gesturing with his shoulders to a group of four very dead men on the outskirts of your nest, drawing a gasp from your lips, “through these woods to save your sorry ass. And now I’m going to take you back so I can be done with this mission.”

“I am not going anywhere with you,” you all but growled as you slung on your shirt in as much grace as you could muster with how your legs and arms still felt as if they were made out of Jell-O. 

“Uh, yes. You are.” The man insisted, quirking his thick brow at you.

“Listen, whatever you came here for, you obviously got the wrong person–” a sharp pain to the back of your head is the first thing you registered as you were shoved up against a nearby tree at what felt like the speed of light. Despite knowing it’s futile, you fought against the hold he held across your chest, wriggling to be free.

“I’m gonna cut right to the chase. You just presented as a young Omega, which also means you are a mutant. Now I don’t need ya’ to show me what you do or whatever, I don’t really give a fuck, I just need to get you to safety since. That. Was. My. Job.” He growled back at you, spit flying in your face with each punctuation.

He must have watched as the fire in your eyes died out, since his grip loosened and he set you back onto the ground, turning slowly to retrieve the rest of his belongings.

“You’re The Wolverine, aren’t you?” You called out after him, just as you moved to gather the remaining's of your bag’s contents which had been spilled out across the ground–a hairbrush, tampons, two small bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and you’re only reminder of the life you once had before your mutant abilities took it away from you, a picture of you and your brother. 

You heard a deep grunt sound off behind you before an even rougher, “I am.”

A shiver ran down your spine at knowing who you were in the presence of… who had taken care of you during your first heat.

“We didn’t,” you cleared your throat as you turned to look at the mutant behind you, “we didn’t… do anything, right?”

“No,” came the quick response as The Wolverine lit a cigar and leaned up against a tree. He must be waiting for you to follow him, most likely. “I don’t find satisfaction in taking advantage of people. Not like those four over there.” He once again gestured towards the four rotting corpses lying face down in the snow.

A gag threatened to spill what little food and water you had ingested over the past week all over the ground.

Heaving your bag over your shoulders, you took a few steps towards your savior–captor?–and began following him through the dense trees, out towards either your salvation or your doom. You weren’t sure which it was going to be yet.

* * *

It ended up being about an hour walk to a beat up old Chevy that was parked on the side of the road. Following your captors lead, you slipped into the passenger seat and watched as the world you knew went by in flashes of snow and trees.

It took another three or four hours–you weren’t really sure how long, since you were in and out of sleep for a lot of it–to reach one of the few airports in Alaska. Along the way, you also learned The Wolverine was taking you to a school for young mutants like yourself, where you could learn more about your abilities and how to use them. 

You weren’t sure you really liked the idea of using your powers ever again…

“Does it ever get easier?” You asked quietly with your head resting up against the window as you pulled up to the rental car return.

You heard him pull the parking brake and let out an exasperated sigh. Yeah, well I’m not a huge fan of you either, you wanted to snap at him. “What does?” He asked with a sidelong glare.

“Killing,” you whispered, as if the mere mention of it would bring death upon you. Flashes of your brother's screaming face play behind your eyelids every time you blink.

There was a long beat of silence, so long that you ended up looking over at the driver seat just to make sure he hadn’t gotten out of the car and left you there alone. “No, it doesn’t,” he whispered back.

You grabbed your only belongings and followed after your captor onto the tarmac, where the classiest and sleekest silver plane you have ever seen was waiting for you. If you weren’t so damn terrified of flying, this would probably be one of the coolest moments of your so-far short life. The second you boarded the private jet, The Wolverine beelined for the crystal jar full of some type of whiskey. You mentally gagged at the mere thought of the terrible taste of that amber liquid.

“Want some?” your captor asked as he poured himself a generous quadruple shot.

You shook your head violently as you took a seat towards the front of the plane against the wall, so you had a clear line of sight of the rest of the aircraft. The Wolverine sat on the opposite side of the small cabin. Or maybe he just made it look small with how his head scraped the top of the ceiling, and his broad shoulders were spilling over the seat.

“What will happen to me when I get there?” You dared to ask.

“Professor X will take care of you.” Perhaps he heard how your heartbeat picked up its pace as your hands gripped the armrests tighter, making the leather squeak under your sweaty hands. “Relax, not like that.” The man sighed in frustration as he chugged down his liquor and went for a second glass. “Here’s what will happen. Professor X will give you a chance to go on special mutant-safe inhibitors for your new…” the man flicked his gaze to you, “secondary gender, if you so wish. He’ll ask to see your abilities to see the extent to which we will need to keep you and others around you safe.” Once he finished pouring his glass, he returned to his seat, staring at you from across the cabin.

“There’s no one around me that I care to keep safe anymore, sir.” You whispered to him. “I failed all of them.”

The Wolverine seemed at a loss for words after your admission, instead he simply said, “Best for you to get some rest.”

And flicked off the lights.

* * *

You weren’t necessarily sure what you were expecting, but a giant mansion that looked like it was born for the Old-Money-Rich generation was not it. It felt like your head was on a swivel as you drove towards the complex. You saw people–mutants, like you–out playing in the spacious yard, in the pond, others in the sky. Which made you suddenly jealous of your own powers.

An even greater surprise were the friendly greetings thrown your way, or rather to The Wolverine standing beside you. You knew he was a well-respected mutant, but you thought it was in the way of “don’t cross me and I won’t kill you” way. Not in the, “six year old's love me” type way. Which was very much the case with the way the younger mutants were running up the grisly man and crawling up his legs.

“Not now, alright,” he grumbled as he peeled them one-by-one off his legs and proceeded to guide you towards a large door hidden in an alcove to the right. “Professor X is just through that door.”

He said it in a way that had your alarm bells ringing, and as he turned to walk away you reached out and grabbed his arm without thinking. “Stay.” You demanded, and then thought better of yourself and added, “please.”

You watched the debate go on behind his eyes, but with a deep sigh, it appeared this gentle giant decided to be your protector a little longer. Reaching forward, you balled your hand into a fist to knock. But before you could, a gentleman's voice called from behind the door, “Come in.”

Swallowing, you reached for the handle and strode into a quaint office room. The man who sat behind the desk was not at all what you had expected. You were expecting the monsters… the men who had taken your best friend… You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought. “Professor X, I’m–”

“I already know who you are,” the elderly man said, moving a joystick on his wheelchair to maneuver around his desk. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod.

“I can sense your unease, but I promise you do not need to hide here. We are mutants, just like you.” The Professor moved his wheelchair further forward, until he was within reaching distance. “I know you have a power that is greatly sought after. May I see?” He asked, and tapped his head.

You quickly pieced it together he must be one of the psychic mutants, and you dully nodded your head. You closed your eyes as he reached forward, his pointer and middle finger coming to rest against your left temple. For a brief moment, you are fearful you will have to relive all the memories he is about to see. But when nothing comes flashing behind your eyelids, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

After a couple moments passed, the Professor dropped his hand and opened his eyes, “I am sorry for the pain you have experienced in your short life so far.”

“I didn’t know at the time…” you began, but a sob threatened to come up your throat.

“You don’t need to talk to me about it, only if you are ready.” You nodded to him in gratitude before he turned back around to grab something from behind his desk. “I believe Logan should have told you about this,” Logan, that must be Wolverine’s real name, you thought to yourself, “but these are inhibitors for your secondary gender which would have presented the same day as your mutation. Please, only take these if you are comfortable. If not, we can make separate arrangements for your safety from other mutants.”

You reached forward and grabbed the small silver tin of round white pills and stuffed them in your bag. “What do you mean for my safety from other mutants?”

Professor X let out a sigh and eyeballed Wolverine–Logan–from over your head, “I see you left some of the harder questions for me to answer.”

“She wasn’t asking these questions to me, Professor,” was the snarky remark Logan bit back.

Professor X began calmly, “Well, you see, other mutants will have also displayed a secondary gender. Most of us are Betas, we do not experience heats or ruts and we are normal for everything but our mutant abilities. However, others are Omegas and Alphas. Omegas, such as yourself, need extra protection such as the inhibitors or being placed in a separate wing from the Alphas. The Alphas may also go on inhibitors, like Logan there, so an Omegas heat will not affect them.”

You shook your head violently, the words becoming jumbled in your mind. “I don’t understand. So I’m some fucked up other breed?”

“You are not ‘fucked up’, you are an additional step to evolution. Omegas are…” the Professor clears his throat, “meant to be very fertile, same with the Alphas.”

“I don’t want this,” You murmured, a single tear sliding down your face before you were able to swipe it away.

“I know,” the Professor replied solemnly, as if he could feel your pain and still-fresh grief. “All I want is to keep you safe.” Your mouth felt like it was running dry, your brain throbbing with all the information. “Now, would you be willing to show me what you can do?”

* * *

You had agreed to show the Professor your ability. He and Logan had taken you out to the courtyard, where a dead and brittle rose plant lay amongst the foliage.

“All I need you to do is revive the rose plant.” The Professor called out to you. Him and the Wolverine had stayed a good few yards away, upon your request. You didn’t need another person standing near you while this happens.

“Surely she can’t revive a dead plant…” came a response from Logan that had you gritting your teeth together. “That would mean she could revive a dead person.”

“With enough power and training,” you heard the Professor reply calmly, “perhaps she could.”

Little do they know, you thought spitefully.

Kneeling down to the ground, you placed one hand on the grass beside your feet, the other reaching upwards towards the rose bush. You let your mind fall somewhere between your burning rage and the feeling of cold serenity. As the flow of life began pouring through your arms, you saw flashes--images--of a younger Professor X. A younger garden. When this rose bush would have still been alive. You saw flashes of a blue girl with red hair and…

You felt your connection snap before your eyes opened, the rose bush now blooming with flowers and life. Revived from its grave.

But underneath you… the ground was withered and dead. The dirt like rough sand to the touch.

Your power. A life for a life.

[selfinsertmadness]

i have a really cool prompt

hope you like my idea,

could you perhaps write a story about the current logan situation with loganxy/n ??

i love your blog soooo muchhhh

Logie and the Australian car incident

pairing: AstonMartin!y/n x Logan Sargeant (can be read platonically or romantically)

author's note: I haven't written any fanfic stuff in literal years (middle school me is quacking) but I tried my best with that one. Looking forward to any suggestions or critiques you may have :) (insert obligatory English is not my native language here) (please send promts!!!!)

The day starts off as any other day on a busy race weekend would and you are busy running around the Aston Martin garage making sure everything is in order before you return to your place at the back of the garage. You let your gaze sweep over the garage one last time before getting out your work phone and texting your boss, Lawrence, that everything is in order. The cars seem good, the mechanics had no complaints and Lance and Fernando were reasonably happy with everything. A satisfied smile washes over your face, your job was busy but reasonably easy, as the team caretaker your sole mission was to make sure the team was happy, the drivers taken care of, and the PR supervisors were not losing their minds running after their drivers while also texting Lawrence even the most minute details about his son and the other driver.

It seems quite redundant to you, but Lawrence Stroll pays well and who are you to turn down a job as a glorified team nanny.

You take a seat at the back and watch the first practice session absentmindedly, letting your gaze wander down to your phone occasionally, and scrolling through Twitter, scoffing at all the hate towards the current grid. It never ceases to amaze you how people can be so hateful, but then again, some people are just unhappy about their own lives. Looking up at the screen you watch a Williams car hit the wall on the right before sliding across the track and grinding its way to a stop on the left barrier. You gasp as you jump up, the rest of the garage wincing in sympathy as the car finally stops. You quickly turn to a mechanic nearby. “Who was that?”, you ask a little panicked as you watch the red flag fly and a driver in a Williams race suit climb out of the cockpit. “Albon, I think”, the mechanic replies helpfully as you try and suppress a relieved sigh. You still feel sorry for Alex but simultaneously thanking your lucky stars that Logan was not the one in an accident this time.

When Logan first got signed by Williams you both were ecstatic, you had met years ago when your parents had taken you on a vacation to Florida where you met Logan and you’ve kept in touch ever since. You had already been working for Aston Martin when Logan started in F1 and the fact that you could spend a lot more time together now served as further motivation to both of you to give it your best. You quickly shoot him a text, knowing he won’t be responding until later, before sending your boss a quick update and making sure the crash had not affected your team.

You honestly had forgotten you texted Logan in the first place as you watch the cars head out for the second practice session, Alex staying back in the pits, watching his teammate drive. You smile as you send Logan some memes you had found on twitter, knowing he would have a laugh once he got back to his room after the strenuous practice sessions of the day. Aston Martin, for once, had no major issues you had attend to and you could lean back and relax, as much as one in a Formula 1 garage can relax, in your seat while harassing the Aston Martin Instagram Admin with Memes you think they should be posting asap.

As the second practice session ends you help the team pack up and prepare for the next day as the drivers attend to their media duties and you stretch in relief as the first day of the Australian Grand Prix comes to an end.  After having everything sorted you get out your work phone and sign off for the day before taking out your personal phone and responding to some texts before checking your chat with Logan, seeing that he had read your messages but not responded. ‘You ok?’, you send him before shrugging off any worry you might have. Surely, he was just busy, after all, he was the only Williams driver that would be starting on Sunday. You really wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, the weight of the entire team and all the fans’ expectations resting on your shoulders. You might have a lot of responsibility but at least you were free of the expectations fans place on the drivers, mechanics and team principals.

You quickly slip into the shower of your private hotel room, a perk you were eternally grateful for, and put on some pajamas before order room service. You had earned it after all and looking after your figure was thankfully not a concern you had. ‘Ignoring your bestie? That’s not how I know you Loggie!’ you text Logan as you open the door for the food you had ordered and sit down before digging into the pepperoni pizza you had been craving for a week.

You startle as you hear a knock from your hotel room door. You shoot a quick glance at your phone, 11pm. You quietly approach the door and look through the peephole cautiously. Who would disturb you that late on a race weekend? Looking through the hole you see Logan at the door, his face unusually pale and his expression unnervingly neutral. Quickly you reach for the doorhandle, pulling the door open. “Logie? What got you a-knocking that late?”, you ask jokingly but the lighthearted smile on your face quickly fades as he stands on the swell of your door like a man lost, his eyes suspiciously watery. “Oh dear”, you mumble as you quickly pull him into your room and heard him towards your bed, letting him sit down before standing before him and looking at him with a stern expression. “What’s wrong?”, you ask, concern written all over your face.

He sighs, falling back onto the bed. “They’re taking my car.”, his voice sounds wobbly as he explains. “Who is taking your car?”, you ask, your voice confused.

“James. He said Alex has a higher chance of scoring and I get it, but I tried so hard, you know? They said they trusted me, and I was ready to proof how much I have improved and now I can’t drive at all. I didn’t crash the car! It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything…”, he rambles, his voice flowing between sadness, anger and betrayal before ending in defeat. You look at him, he still has his upper body lying on your bed, his feet dangling off the side as he continues explaining what had happened. Quietly you sit down next to him on the bed and gently stroke through his hair as you let him talk out his frustrations. “y/n? What do I do now?”, Logan asks as he looks up at you, his eyes still wet but trying his hardest to not shed a tear.

“I will put the fear of God into that good-for-nothing son of a bitch.”, you explain very matter of factly. “I’m gonna walk down to the Williams hospitality and I’m gonna scream at your team principal!”, you declare with a huff as you get off of your bed and towards where you kicked off your shoes when you came back from the paddock earlier that night.

“Y/N, do NOT do that.”, Logan warns as he gets up and grabs your hand. “That is just going to make it worse.” “Okay but it’s also gonna make me feel a lot better ‘cause who does he think he is? Taking your car and giving it away. I’m gonna make him regret this entire week” you say angrily as you look up at him with determination and the wrath of someone who’s best friend was just wronged in your eyes.

“Please don’t”, Logan asks with sad eyes, gripping your hand even tighter. “Please just stay with me tonight, I feel sick. I just want to cry.”, he admits to you as you feel your resolve break. “But- “, you trail off as you watch him stand before you, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You sigh in defeat before squeezing his hand. “Right but only ‘cause you asked me to, if it was up to me…”, you stop, leaving the threat hang in the air of your hotel room as you head towards the small desk. “Pizza”, you declare as you shove the leftovers of your pizza into Logans hands. “My TV has Netflix, what do you want to watch?”, you ask as you throw yourself into the hotel room bed and turn on the flatscreen TV hanging opposite it.

Logan lets out a surprised laugh and sits down next to you, the pizza carton still tightly in his hands as he gets out a slice and lets you choose whatever show you find on the homepage. The evening continues in relative silence as Logan finishes the pizza and you sit in the bed, leaning onto each other. “I’m still sending him negative vibes, like spiritually”, you grumble as he giggles before slipping off to sleep for the night.

[purfectstormzz]

Million Dollar Man | Logan Sargeant/ Elijah Hewson X reader (smau)

Summary: In which Y/n y/l/n meets the love of her life after losing the other one.

Pairings: Logan Sargeant x fem!ex!reader, Elijah Hewson x fem!actress!reader

A/n: I’m back with my Elijah Hewson x f1 fanfics! Also no hate intended towards Logan.

Masterlist

Yourusername

Liked by AlexAlbon, DanielRicciardo and 567000 others

Yourusername: Race weekend with my favourite people <3

Comments:

AlexAlbon: Wrong team y/n!

> DanielRicciardo: Alpha Tauri is the only right team😎

F1fans: “with my favourite people”. So where’s Logan🤔

> justaninchident: Right, he hasn’t been in any of her photo dumps and he hasn’t liked any of her pictures lately.

Lilymhe: My favourite person🫶🏼

> AlexAlbon: Tought I was your favourite person🤨

Yourusername

📍Dublin, Ireland

Liked by Lilymhe, AlexAlbon and 564900 others

Yourusername: Me, myself and I on a little get away!

Comments:

Lilymhe: You deserve it y/n/n🫶🏼

> F1fan3: I love how y/n and Lily are still friends even tho y/n and Logan probably broke up.

LoganSargeantfan2: Where is Logan????

Yourusername posted on their story:

📍Dublin, Ireland

Caption: Getting to know the culture!

Replies:

Lilymhe: 2 pints😏 who’s the lucky one??

> yourusername: I’ll tell u all about it when I’m back😉

LoganSargeant: Y/n please answer your texts, also 2 glasses, who are you with??

Yourusername

📍 Dublin, Ireland

Liked by ElijahHewson, LoganSargeant and 564000 others

Yourusername: Dublin in ecstasy.

Comments:

Lilymhe: Babe it’s been a month, I need you back here😩

> Yourusername: I’ll be back in 2 weeks babe🫶🏼

Inhalerfan2: Girly spends a month in Dublin and is already an Inhaler fan

> ElijahHewsonsguitarstring: That guy in the second pic looks a lot like Eli🤔

> inhalerfan3: omg he does🤨

> Bobbyskeetzzzers2: That is definitely Elijah, look at the tattoo.

ElijahHewson: Am I not the best tour guide ever??

> yourusername: Definitely!

Yourusername

Liked by ElijahHewson, Lilymhe and 5476000 others

yourusername: Brooklyn baby

comments:

Inhalerfan2: "Well, my bofriend's in a band"

ElijahHewson: Prettiest girl ever

>Yourusername: Prettiest boy ever <3

LoganSargeantfan2: Damn she moved on fast.

>Y/nswife: Girl shut up, they broke up 3 months ago and Logan cheated on her so let her be!

ElijahHewsonsguitarstring: From wag to rockstar gf, she’s such an icon😫

Yourusername

Liked by ElijahHewson, LoganSargeant and 571000 others

yourusername: I too love Bono's son <3

comments have been disabled

[logankisseswade]

Deadpool Fixes Every Cinematic Universe(That He Wants To) aka Deadpool 4: Electric Boogaloo(My Deadpool Fanfic) by Me(Jimmy "Cobra" Ronan)

Disclaimer-enjoy the magic

Rating: PG-13

Couple: Logan and Wade

Movies that will be referenced: The Terminator, other Marvel Heroes and so on

Chapter One: The Kyle Reese To My Sarah Connor

*Logan walks into the bedroom, looking all hot and shirtless, he sits on the bed next to Wade, Wade dims the lights and tries to make the bedroom look like that hotel room where Sarah and Kyle were in in Terminator 1*

Wade: *trembling* God look at me *laughs nervously* I'm shaking....*sniffles* some great leader huh?...you must be so disappointed....

Logan: I'm not...

Wade: *presses record on his phone and starts filming himself and Logan* ....Logan?....what were the other versions of me like, in other universes?

Logan: good fighters *smirks*

Wade: no, not like that...I mean...was there anyone special? like a boy?

Logan: no...just you...*sighs deeply, lost in thought* Babypool Connor gave me a picture of you once...you looked so tense...I always wondered what you were thinking about in that moment...

Wade: *Logan trails on as Wade looks into the camera on his phone, he whispers to us the audience* Isn't Hugh just as sexy and talented as Michael Biehn? *snickers* God look at that body...God I'm lucky

Logan: Wade...stop breaking the forth wall and finish this scene with me

Wade: alright babe *pays full attention to Logan*

Logan: I came across time for you Wade...I Love you...I always have...

Wade: *tears up* Kyle *snorts, giggles* oops...Logan...

Logan: I shouldn't have said that

Wade: no, Logan, wait...

*The Love theme from Terminator 1 plays in the background, Wade grabs Logan and kisses him intensely, Logan kisses back, heavy, passionate kissing, soft moans, the record scratches and stops playing, loud abrupt noises outside*

Wade: oh God damn it! every time we try to recreate the Love scene something interrupts us!

Logan: it's okay bub *holds Wade's face and kisses him deeply* we have all the time in the world *smirks*

*loud banging and explosions and screaming outside*

Logan: Wade...what the hell is that?

Wade: you should go out and check you big sexy strong man you *giggles*

*Logan opens the door, it looks like a wasteland full of movie studio logos everywhere, this time it's not desert with Cassandra Nova, it's more like the streets of Detroit, Michigan, Terminator endoskeletons shooting at people, the real Kyle Reese shooting at them and the T-800 protecting him, Adult Edward Furlong arrives with a machine gun*

Wade: *gasps loudly* Mother of God!! John Connor??

*Christian Bale shows up looking like he did as John Connor from Terminator Salvation as well*

Logan: I think we just entered the Terminator franchise for real Wade

Arnold/T-800: *puts his hand out to Wade and Logan* come with me if you want to live, laugh and love

Wade: whoa, Uncle Bob does self help now?

Edward/JC: yeah he actually sells books now

T-800: I only shoot people now when they deserve it

Logan: *raises his eyebrow* I think I like this guy

Kyle Reese: whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, you guys can't go back into that hotel room!

Wade: why not?

Kyle: just trust me, these hotel rooms are cursed

Logan: where are we exactly? Wade...baby...what did you do?

Wade: I stuck us in a timeline generator

Edward: oh my God!! why would you do that?? we are so fucked right now Spiderman!!

Wade: what do you mean?

*Linda Hamilton shows up with a group of military men*

Linda: Wade Wilson, give me that time watch!

Logan: time watch? baby you said that was only a watch!

Wade: I may have lied a little

Logan: why would you do that?!

Wade: I wanted to take us on an adventure for our honeymoon sugar pie honey bunch

Arnold: give us the watch Paul Dead

Wade: no! I wanna play with Lana!*twists the watch on his wrist, a huge explosion goes off, everything turns white*

*pure silence, Wade wakes up in the middle of a beach, somewhere in California*

Wade: *looks around, panicking* Logan, baby...Wolfie!!

*Logan wakes up in another place without Wade, looks like a forest*

Logan: Wade...Wade?!!

Wade: *whimpers, sniffles* I take it all back Linda Hamilton, I don't like this!!...I want my husband back...ahh fuck...why do I do these things? first I fix my timeline and then I fuck it up because I wanna blend every other timeline *whimpers* Logan I'm sorry baby...I just wanted to play...I lost my Wolfie again...I wish, I wish upon a star, to not be a jackass so I could have my Wolfie back...aahh fuck!!

*kicks sand and screams, he falls to his knees and sobs, a picture falls out of his pocket*

Wade: *grabs the picture and looks at it, he and Logan are kissing on their wedding day, Logan's in a tux, Wade has a white wedding gown on top of his Deadpool suit, he touches the picture, he looks at us/the audience* I lost the Kyle Reese to my Sarah Connor...well...I'm gonna need all the help that I can get...and Logan, Baby, if you can somehow hear this...I pray to God you'll forgive me for fucking up our honeymoon...God I must be one of those donkeys from pleasure island...

*Baywatch theme starts playing, Wade turns to look*

Wade: oh my God...

*Pamela Anderson starts running down the beach in slow-motion, Wade gasps*

Wade: I used to have dreams like this!!... but not anymore Pammy, this Deadpool promised his Wolfie to go the monogamous route and I have to keep my mans happy

Pamela: hey you, Spiderman! who are you talking to?

Wade: the people reading this of course

Pamela: hey is that a time watch? those are illegal you know that?

Wade: yeah I kind of do stupid things sometimes...but hear me out, I have to get back home to my husband...only, there's a problem...

Pamela: you broke the space time continuoum?

Wade: kind of?

Pamela: oh fuck, Spiderman...

Wade: *wails loudly* I miss my husband!!

*Logan keeps going through the forest, he seems lost and stuck inside an endless forest, he stops walking*

Logan: fucking hell Logan!! *his voice echoes, he sniffles, he nods his head and sighs* we should've just stayed home for our honeymoon...but you always have to have crazy ideas don't you? ...that's what I love and hate about you...if you can hear me baby, I'm not mad at you...I love you...I know you can't help yourself...God did I marry a donkey from pleasure island?

*Logan notices in the distance is a 7-11*

Logan: oh God...a 7-11...our favorite place to make out in public

+ to be continued in Chapter 2+

[brewsterispunkk]

diamonds and stones (masterlist)

pairing: clyde logan x f!reader

rating: 18+ éxplicit!

warnings: short description of domestic violence, PTSD, eventual smut, soooo much angst,

summary: “I think I might always be in some kind of love with you,” — F. Cabanes or, a story of friendship and second chances.

CHAPTERS:

prologue

part one

interlude: the letters (coming soon)

extras:

spotify playlist!

[edupunkn00b]

My Dearest Love

Photo by Afonso Azevedo Neves via Unsplash.

Written for @tsspromptmonth's Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café for @greymillieattheball. Rated G - WC: 1341 - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Roman is a prince, on the edge of his ascension to the throne. Patton is the king of a neighboring land, one in which the prophecies declare he will not marry another king.

Years of letters between them have made them long for a different ending to their tale.

-

My Dearest Love, Where once I counted the days until I might take on my father’s crown, now each sunrise that leads me closer to the ascension merely fills me with dread. How many more days will pass before I lose my chance to be with you my dear, my love? How much more time shall we have to find a way to—

“You already said that,” Prince Roman’s scribe interrupted his dictation. Quill hovering over the blotter, he was careful as always not to smudge the precious parchment even as he peered up at the prince with a less than reverent frown. “May I suggest, ‘my beloved?’”

“Ooooo! Or ‘my luscious treat?’” his brother chuckled from the other side of a map-strewn table, winking at Logan.

“That would be unseemly,” Roman scoffed, lips curled like he’d tasted something foul. “The King of Gâteau is no mere trollop I wish to cajole into my bed. He's sensitive and intelligent and funny and…"  Smoothing down his bright silk sash, the symbol of his station, he shook his head and pretended not to see Remus’ lascivious gesture toward his scribe. “'My beloved,'” he emphasized, looking directly at Logan now.

Mouth open and cheeks aflame, his scribe halted a silent response to Remus’ flirting. At least he had the grace to look embarrassed at having been caught.

“Really, you two,” Roman tutted, failing to completely hide his smile. At least his brother could be happy. What he wouldn't give to get to see his love every day the way Remus could. Even without the challenge of distance between them, as the—slightly—younger brother, there were no restrictions on who Remus could pursue, and no prophecies dictated who Logan might wed. They didn't know how lucky they were.

“Apologies, Your Highness.” Logan murmured, finishing the phrase just before Remus launched himself onto his lap.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be good!” he swore, settling far to one side and granting Logan a clear view of the pages in front of him. Roman raised an eyebrow at the display, letting annoyance cover the pang of jealousy poking at his throat.

There was just no winning in love sometimes.

“You were at 'how much more time shall we have to find a way to—’” Logan prompted, one arm curled around Remus, steadying him. 

“Yes…” Roman nodded, squaring his shoulders. “Yes,” he said again. “‘To find a way to…" Hand outstretched like he might pluck his next words from the air, again his eyes fell on his brother and his scribe. 

Remus had rested his head against Logan's, eyes half shut. Ordinarily a spinning ball of teeth and innuendo, he sat still and quiet under his partner’s touch, calmer than he was even in sleep. Logan sat tall in his seat, sure and confident, sharp as always, but… His lips curled in a soft half smile and the hand not gripping the quill traced circles against Remus' side. He looked happy, far happier that Roman had ever seen him before.

They were good for each other.

 "'To find a way to be by your side.'"

“How will I manage to continue without you by my side and without me at yours?’” King Patton read the words slowly, cherishing this increasingly rare letter from his love. "'If it's true the fates have decided we are not destined to be—'"

~

“Ugh, he’s being absurd!” Patton's advisor—and brother—hissed, reading over his shoulder. “‘How will I manage?’ He’ll be King!” Janus scoffed, flinging both hands out at the room around them. “As are you you. Just… decree you are to be married! It is well within your authority."

“But the prophecies say the King will not marry a King and—”

Janus rolled his eyes and snatched a scroll off the highest shelf. He made a show of unrolling it before clearing his throat and reading in a too-good imitation of the old High Priest.

“'And the King, fair of face and kind of heart, shall marry and he shall have any damn husband—'”

“It doesn’t say that!” Patton interrupted.

Janus continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “‘And he shall have any damn husband he wishes and anyone who dared defy—'"

“Janus!” Patton couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from his lips. His brother, his advisor, his friend, smiled at him over the dusty parchment.

“‘Just because the King is is too kind-hearted to take what he wants doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve it.’” Meeting Patton’s eyes, he gently closed the scroll. “‘So declared.’”

“Let me finish the letter,” Patton grinned back at him. “And thank you,” he added, giving Janus a little nod when he returned the parchment to its place. He scooted over on the plush bench at his writing table and resumed reading when Janus joined him.

“’And so that is why, my beloved dear’”—The calligraphy grew shaky over those words—”’I have abdicated my crown—‘“

“What!?” Eyes wide, Patton looked up at Janus. Was he only imagining the words?

“Well, go on,” Janus urged, a quirk to his lips. “Finish reading.”

“Bu—But—I—” Patton stammered, words growing blurry behind the tears welling in his eyes. “I—I can’t.”

“Allow me, Your Highness.” Soft leather gloves closed over his fingers and Janus gently plucked the parchment from his grip.

“‘And that is why, my beloved dear, I have abdicated my crown. My brother will lead my kingdom and I am joining you to help you lead yours.’

‘All my love, Roman.’”

Mouth hanging open, Patton blinked at the letter in Janus’ hands. Distantly, he heard a knock at the door and, after a moment, Janus’ soft voice pulled him from his shock. “Shall I open it?” he asked, smiling in a way Patton couldn’t quite understand.

He looked again at the edges of the parchment. The seal had already been broken before he’d begun to read, and there no wax on the table. Janus had already read the letter. He knew what Roman had written.

“Shall I open the door?” Janus asked again, rising and offering a hand to help him up. “It seems you have a visitor. Would you like privacy?”

Standing on shaking legs, Patton shook his head. “Stay here,” he whispered past a suddenly dry throat. “Please?” he added.

With a slow nod, Janus smiled and moved to answer the door.

"Wait!" Patton cried, straightening his posture and smoothing down his fur-lined mantle. So this is why Janus insisted I wear this silly thing today. He looked up at his brother. "H—how do I look?"

"Spectacular," Janus assured him and, at Patton's little nod, pulled open the heavy oak door. "Your Highness," he said as he bowed to his brother, smoothly gesturing toward the hall.

Patton's eyes followed the arc of Janus' arm, landing on the hooded figure filling the doorway. Wrapped in a heavy red cloak, the figure bowed his head as he pushed back his hood, revealing auburn curls falling over bright green eyes.

"May I present to you former Prince Roman of the Cruithait Isles, brother to King Remus of Cruithait." 

Roman smiled back at him, hope and maybe a little fear flitting across his face. "Your Highness," he repeated, bowing again.

"You really did it?" Patton whispered, Roman's letter clutched in his hand as he swept around his writing desk. "You… You're not going to be King?"

Ignoring propriety, Patton reached for his hands. Janus plucked away the parchment from his grip, then stepped back, giving the couple a modicum of privacy. 

Roman's hands were warm and strong and they gripped his with matching ferocity. "My brother is King now," he murmured. "The kingdom has no hold on me. I am…" Eyes locked on Patton's, he lifted their shared grip to the perfect cupid bow of his lips and pressed a kiss against Patton's fingertips. "I am yours, if you'll have me."

Laughing, Patton wiggled one hand out of Roman's grip and cupped his cheek to gently pull him down for a kiss. "Only if you'll have me, too."

[brideofkylosolo]

Day 11 of 12 Days of Smutty/Fluffy Fanfics is up. Hope you all enjoy it.

[touyubesposts]

Ghosts aren’t Real (Part 1/?)

Hey, this is my first Storytime Big Bang (@tss-storytime) submission! It was very fun, even thought here were a couple of road blocks (Mostly my fault. 😅) I was partnered with @pizza-box-raccoon, who has some amazing art! (Some of the best IMO.) Their art is here, go check it out! There's nothing too serious in this chapter (or in the next one (I think)) but look at the tags and keep them in mind just in case ❤️

Summary: After a ‘Ghost’ knocks over something in his kitchen while he was coming up with video ideas with friends, Quill and Davi come up with the idea to go ghost hunting in his house. Virgil is scared that they’ll somehow get detected, but Logan is less convinced. Because Ghosts aren’t real… Right?

Rating: PG?

Word Count: 2135 (A short read :))

Ships: None, everything is purely platonic

CW: Mentions of death, Negative thinking, Remus being Remus, if I miss anything let me know 👍

(Fanfic under cut)

(Thomas's P.O.V)

"- So yeah, that could be a fun video idea," Davi finishes up his statement, taking a bite of Chinese food.

Quil chimes in, "Yeah, I could see that, but we don't have a pool."

"There are public pools."

We were talking on the couch about video ideas and things the others wanted to do, trying to come up with ideas while also talking a bit about how we were doing. Patton was watching over us in the kitchen fondly, smiling at every idea and laughing at every joke, even if they weren't particularly good. Patton adjusts himself, accidentally knocking a spoon onto the floor, causing Quil and Davi to look in his direction.

"Thomas, your ghosts are hungry," Davi jokes.

My sides come around and check on me often. It's not surprising at this point and there is nothing I can really do about it anyway. However, they can be clumsy at times as well, accidentally knocking things over and bumping into furniture or walls. No problem, they usually pick whatever they knocked over up and go on their way. The problem is when people are over and they do it. At first, it freaked out my friends and made me self-conscious about it. But over time it became a light-hearted joke, so now whenever something gets knocked over or there's an 'unexplainable thump,' they say it's 'my ghosts' messing around.

"Well, they'll have to stay hungry," I smile, "I have no idea how to feed them."

"That rude, Thomas," Quil joins in, "You should always feed your guests."

I glance at Patton for a split second, "More like unruly roommates. They're lucky, they don't even pay rent."

"Technically we do, but-" Patton goes on to say before being cut off by Quil.

"Damn, must be a hard afterlife. Knock over a random guy's stuff and he doesn't even make you food."

"Would you?”

"... Depends."

Davi asks, "Hey, Thomas? Random question, but were you scared when you first moved into this house?"

I glance at Patton for help, but he just shrugs wildly at me. "Umm... No, not really. I mean, I guess it was scary at first, but after a while, you just tune out the noise."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Do you think it's actually a ghost or a demon or what?"

Oh boy, if only you knew. "Well... No, I don't think it's a ghost or a demon. I'm sure there's a solid, logical reason that all of this is happening but we just aren't seeing it. But the way I think of it is... If it was going to hurt me or wanted to hurt me, it would've done so by now, you know?"

Davi nods, "Yeah, I get it." I play off a breath of relief as just a sigh. I was making stuff up. I know for a fact it isn't a ghost, it's me. And it's not an it! It's a he! Sometimes a 'they,' but in, like, a plural way.

"Hey, I have an idea!" Quil smiles excitedly. "Let's do a ghost-hunting video!"

I feel my heart drop to my stomach as I realize what that implies. "... A ghost-hunting video?"

"Yeah! I have some equipment I could bring over, try some stuff I saw on TikTok a while ago, it could be fun! I mean, we most likely won't catch anything, but it could still make a cool video if we crack jokes and just have fun with it, you know?"

I nod along, feeling like roots and vines wrapped around my chest and squeezed tightly. "Yeah, totally!"

"Oh my god, I love watching those ghost-hunting videos!" Davi excitedly grabs Quil's arm, "Have you seen the ones that Ryan and Shane do?"

"Are you talking about their newer ones or their older ones?"

Davi and Quil continue talking about Ghostfiles and Buzzfeed unsolved while I give Patton a concerned glance. He holds onto his cardigan nervously, refusing to make eye contact with me. Finally, he sinks down guiltily. I feel bad for Patton. He didn't mean to, it was an accident. But now I may have to face a reality I don't want to face, that being 'confronting the idea that my sides are more than my sides.'

"So when do you wanna do it?" Quil turns to me and asks, catching me off guard.

Oh god, how do I answer this? Is there a good answer to this? "Umm, I don't know-"

"The soonest I'm free is a week from now," Davi chimes in, "Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, I should be free then," Quil turns towards me, "Thomas?"

"... Yeah, that works great!" I force a smile, trying my hardest to not let them suspect anything.

"Sweet! Hey, I gotta go, but I'll text you guys about it. It will be fun!"

"Great!" Davi grabs his bag, "I'd stay longer, but Quil's my ride. I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Yeah, of course!" I walk Quil and Davi out the door, waving them off. I take deep breaths as I close the door as sit back down on my couch in defeat. After a couple of minutes of agonizing silence, Virgil pops up by the stairs. Great.

I sigh, forcing a smile, "Hey, Virgil."

"Cut it," Virgil ordered, not buying my happy exterior. I immediately drop my smile after I hear him speak. "You were hanging out with Quil and Davi and now you're anxious... Why?"

Without another word, I summon Patton. As soon as he appeared, he began rambling. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! My hand just brushed against it and it fell and I didn't know it was there! I shouldn't have even been here, I should've ducked out when I could, I-"

"Patton!" Virgil shouts over him. Patton stops, waiting for Virgil to speak. "... Tell me what happened."

Patton takes a shakey inhale before speaking, "So, I... I knocked a spoon on the floor... in front of Quil and Davi-"

"Is that it?"

"No, that's... That's not the bad part. The bad part is... Now Davi and Quil want to ghost hunt here because of me."

"What?!" Virgil shouts, along with Roman and Logan who just arrived. While Roman and Virgil sounded genuinely concerned and panicked, Logan just sounded confused.

"I'm sorry!" Patton covered his face, part in embarrassment.

"Hold on," Logan interrupted, "Why are we panicking? Why is Quil and Davi 'ghost hunting' a bad thing?"

"Because what if they detect us?" Virgil speaks up.

Logan sighs, "They won't. We aren't ghosts, we are a part of Thomas. Also, ghosts aren't real."

Roman buts in, "Yes, I get that, but... Don't you at least find it a little strange that we can touch and throw things even though we are nothing more than Thomas's thoughts and feelings?"

Virgil leans in closer, "Interact with our surroundings... Like ghosts?"

Logan holds the bridge of his nose, "Gosh, both of you are being ridiculous. Yes, it is a little... Odd that we can touch things that exist. But for us to be ghosts, we'd have to be real or human, in some sense. And as far as I'm concerned, we don't even exist outside of Thomas."

At this time, Remus and Janus have both appeared in the kitchen, listening in on our conversations. Virgil pipes up once more, "You say that, but obviously, we have to exist somewhat. We can literally interact with our environment! Meaning we are as real as the things we knock over. Also meaning, we could be ghosts."

"... Virgil, we would have to have died to be ghosts, meaning we existed before Thomas. And that just doesn't seem likely, considering we are Thomas."

"But how do we know that?!"

"Because we are Thomas! Literally! If it looks like Thomas and sounds like Thomas, it's probably Thomas."

"No, I mean how do we know that we didn't exist before Thomas?!"

"We didn't exist before Thomas, there's... There's no way we could've... Ghosts are dead, Virgil. For us to have died, we would have to have lived. And the only one here that has ever lived is Thomas."

"Maybe we did live and we don't remember it! Isn't that the cliche? That the ghost has to remember how they died to pass on? If that's the case, then it makes sense why we don't remember dying or living."

"God, Virgil, you are infuriating right now." Logan turns towards everyone else in a slow turn, looking for support, "I'm not the crazy one here, right? I'm being reasonable? Patton, Janus, anyone?!"

Janus tilts their head slightly, lost in thought, before speaking. "You know... I would try and lie about this, but I... I actually don't know the answer."

"What?" Logan says exasperatedly.

"I mean... I could give an answer, but I wouldn't be lying... I'd just be wrong, maybe."

Logan whips around towards Virgil again, "Okay, then how do you explain all of us looking like Thomas if we are separated beings from Thomas?"

"I don't know, maybe that's the only way Thomas can see us."

"So... What, you think Thomas is a medium? And what about what we represent? We know what we represent, that has to have some meaning for you, right?"

"Guys, let's calm down and take a breath, alright?" Patton tries to de-escalate, moving his hands as he speaks. "I mean, will know the answer when it happens, right?"

"Yes, but-" Logan interrupts himself. He takes a deep breath, before facing Virgil once more, "... But I want to try and ease everyone's mind before then."

Virgil sighs, "I know, I just... I'm scared to be... 'Found out', you know? I mean, as much as we pretend that all of this is normal, we all know it isn't. We know Joan or Kenny or Davi and Quil don't have their own 'sides' that they talk to daily. And I don't know how much longer we can lie to them about this."

"Virgil-"

"And what if they react badly? What if they think all of this is weird or strange, too weird for them to stick around? Or what if they think Thomas is haunted by ghosts and they freak out and run off? And what if they tell Thomas's other friends and they do the same? What then?"

The entire room has gone silent. This wasn't a new train of thought for me, being scared that my friends were going to leave, but hearing it out loud in this context made my stomach flip. Finding out about the sides really would freak them out too much, wouldn't it?

Logan places his hands on Virgil's shoulders softly, with a neutral but sympathetic look. "Everything will be fine. I promise... They may think it's weird, but it should take more than this to drive them away. "

"... And if it does drive them away?"

"Then they weren't real friends anyway. Plus," Logan removes his hands and dusts himself off, "I don't see why they should be scared. We're the ones who live with it."

"Yeah!" Roman cheers, "If they don't like it, they can suck it! We deal with us every day, and that just makes us stronger than them."

"And it's not like they have anything to fear," Patton adds on, sitting on the arm of the couch, "We aren't violent or evil or anything."

"Speak for yourself," Remus cracks his neck, the pops sending shivers down my spine.

Patton winces, "Well... Well, we've never hurt anyone."

"On purpose."

"Or severely."

"Or physically," Logan explains, "We can't touch them. We can touch things, Like spoons or counters, but not people. So even if Remus wanted to put his hands on them, he couldn't."

"If I could physically hurt people, I would've done so already. That's why you gotta... put them to sleep for me, Sanders-man."

I shoot Remus a look, "Okay, that first sentence did freak me out a bit, but... Sanders-man?"

"Like sandman. Not my best work, I admit. I'll workshop it."

Janus clears his throat to get everyone's attention, "So we're lying about this, right? If they suspect anything just deny?"

Virgil takes a harsh breath in, taking a seat on the stairs, "... As much as I hate you and that idea... It's the only one that can keep Thomas safe."

"Aw, Virgil doesn't want to admit I'm useful~"

Logan takes control of the conversation once more. "Reminder: this is all dependant on if their ghost equipment even detects us. And there's a very good chance it doesn't.

Maybe... Maybe attempting to rationalize with fear was the wrong move. Because, and don't take this the wrong way Virgil, but fear can be... A bit irrational. Why don't we try and find different ways to cope until then? Any ideas?"

To be continued…

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙no saving u | LS2˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: logan sargeant x piastri!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, break up, brother's best friend/childhood friends to lovers

warnings: trigger warning many max verstappen mentions unfortunately /j

summary: in which they are pulled together following a particularly messy crash during the last race of the season and an even messier break up

a/n: i got this plot as a request and i love it ahhh i linked the request below!!! hope u guys enjoy i lowkey luv writing logan fanfic especially when max loses something 😆

request!!!: max is getting too cocky and dangerous on the track and he knows you disagree with his antics which causes tension between you, he continues his dangerous streak even though he’s just had the pit lane rules changed for abu dhabi and ends up crashing into logan during fp2, you’ve had enough of max putting himself and others in danger whilst he’s on an ego trip and rush to check on logan after he’s been taken safely from his car and end up going to the hospital with him (you’re childhood friends because he did karting and f3 with your brother), you leave max that night and end up spending more time with logan as he recovers, the summer is spent exploring your new relationship and you go public when you’re spotted in his paddock in 2024, max is humiliated beaten by the worst driver on the grid in his opinion, he’s finally humbled, you could also maybe have logan doing better as he’s had an opportunity to be involved with the cars development, and he even gets a couple podiums in his sophomore year :)

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 47,038 others

yourusername life lately:)

view all 2,012 comments

maxverstappen1 the true artwork is you!

oscarpiastri cringeee

danielricciardo he's trying

yourusername max verstappen most bullied f1 driver on the grid

logansargeant assuming we will see you in the williams garage in abu dhabi

maxverstappen1 no!

alex_albon it's our turn

oscarpiastri nope it's our turn

yourusername shame it's none of you lot's turn. you will see me in mercedes perhaps

lewishamilton i always win

georgerussell63 😊

user1 y/n x f1 2023 grid interactions are my absolute favourite

twitter ->

whatsapp ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted stories

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 10,384 others

maxverstappen1 wont you swing by?

yourusername yes of course hehe i will come see you before free practice 🧡

alex_albon u didnt cheat but ur still a traitor

yourusername 🐱

twitter ->

whatsapp ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 12,321 others

maxverstappen1 you are ignoring me

yourusername i just dont want to talk right now

maxverstappen1 why? you didnt even see if i was okay

yourusername i knew you were okay

yourusername im just very upset and angry it wouldn't be productive to see you right now

maxverstappen1 you are not coming back to the hotel?

yourusername no so dont wait up, i'll see you tomorrow

maxverstappen1 okay i am sorry y/n

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 64,734 others

yourusername im only welcome in one garage now

view all 3,294 comments

logansargeant this is literally false information

lilymhe she knows where she should be

landonorris im so lucky i get to see y/n before every race now

oscarpiastri you literally told her she stinks like 5 min ago

yourusername oh great thanks maybe im not welcome anywhere

mclaren we love you y/n

liked by yourusername

mercedesamgf1 you know where to find us y/n

liked by yourusername

user11 the caption...... is this a break up confirmation bc she isnt welcome at rb garage anymore

user12 i love how all the teams fight over her lol

f1wagupdates

liked by yourusername, user10, and 13,384 others

f1wagupdates we are gathered here today to mourn the alleged death of f1 couple max verstappen and our favourite aussie y/n piastri. please leave your respects below 🙏 we are celebrating with some of our favourite maxy/n moments!

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1

view all 3,283 comments

user13 wag death 🙏

liked by yourusername

user14 one of my favourite couples😢

user15 dont cry coz it's over.....

user16 this has rattled me

user17 the caption CELEBRATING? Hahahah

f1wagupdates whoops freudian slip

user18 😭 i will never know peace

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, and 8,743 others

carmenmmundt dodged a bullet 100%

yourusername then why does it feel like i got hit anyway 😐

carmenmmundt you are so strong y/n/n

yourusername somehow it's worse because he would have me back if i asked lol

carmenmmundt omg he has no idea what he lost .. you are going to be thriving whilst he is flopping by next season i promise

yourusername i hope ur right 😀

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 24,924 others

logansargeant vacation time 🏝️

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

view all 4,283 comments

yourusername vacay vacay

oscarpiastri baecay baecay

yourusername ur so weird

oscarpiastri noo hahahh ..

user19 "baecay" what does that mean 🤔

user20 not oscar shipping his best friend & sister together 💀

user21 love seeing y/n hanging out with everyone now instead of being hidden away in max's dungeon

yourusername DUNGEON i just shrieked

user22 😀😀😀 im fine

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 284,929 others

danielricciardo woohoo woohoo woohoo

tagged: yourusername, lilymhe, landonorris, alex_albon, oscarpiastri

view all 13,294 comments

user23 omg more y/n x grid content

yourusername yoohoo

danielricciardo hi y/n

yourusername hey 😄

lilymhe my fav ppl

landonorris should we all give up our seats and hang out 24/7 instead

alex_albon no

danielricciardo no

oscarpiastri no

yourusername yea yay!

lilymhe yes wahoo

user24 i wish i was their friend

user25 max verstappen found dead

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 454,183 others

charles_leclerc what we've been up to

view all 17,064 comments

user26 y/n & charles taking a flight together🥹

user27 omg she is everywhere loll

yourusername exposing my weird airline meal

charles_leclerc still dont know what it was

oscarpiastri lol flying with y/n/n is an experience

user28 who is y/n dating im confused ??

user29 no one her & max just broke up but she's oscar's sister so she's always been friends with a lot of the grid

alexandrasaintmleux i can't believe u saw y/n without me

yourusername 😭 i miss you

alexandrasaintmleux get on a plane now

yourusername i genuinely will

charles_leclerc dont steal my gf

twitter ->

whatsapp ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, and 14,204 others

lilymhe oh hello

yourusername 👀

carmenmmundt excuse meee mrs

yourusername perhaps you were right

carmenmmundt not surprised

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 27,924 others

logansargeant ...where should we go next?

view all 4,193 comments

user33 looks like y/n .. anyone else?

user34 that is deffo y/n

user35 why would we assume y/n is dating logan everyone has been posting them hanging out with her lately

danielricciardo go to japan

liked by logansargeant

user36 aww daniel giving travel advice

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, and 18,204 others

yourusername new favourite place

tagged: logansargeant

view all 6,283 comments

user37 omg not them going to japan because daniel told them to

user38 i rly think logan & y/n are an item

user39 aww she is having so much fun since the breakup

danielricciardo did not expect u guys to actually go where i said

yourusername we were feeling crazyy & impulsive

oscarpiastri come home im bored

yourusername make some friends

oscarpiastri why make friends when i have u

user40 lol i love their sibling relationship

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 4,294 others

carmenmmundt omg this is giving hard launch

yourusername 😭 this is special circumstances

logansargeant couldn't have done it without you

twitter ->

instagram—

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, carmenmmundt, and 17,294 others

yourusername bahrain bahrain p.s he was tired after getting p3

tagged: logansargeant

view all 7,294 comments

oscarpiastri just got the strongest urge to bully you for this post

yourusername u hate to see a girl win!! ur a misogynist or something

landonorris u didnt win anything y/n

logansargeant she won my heart actually

oscarpiastri omg.... lose my number.

yourusername lose ur seat!!! ur a b word

user44 not them arguing over literally nothing

mclaren we're on your side, y/n

yourusername i will always be a mclaren girl!

user45 lol y/n x grid interactions own my heart

user46 i love her relationship with mclaren in general

twitter ->

whatsapp ->

instagram ->

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 32,294 others

logansargeant me and my gf in murica

tagged: yourusername

view all 11,284 comments

yourusername 🦅

oscarpiastri you hate america

yourusername no need to mention that rn

logansargeant ???

lilymhe never been so happy

liked by yourusername, logansargeant

carmenmmundt i told you so, y/n

yourusername you did :)

logansargeant dont know what you told her but thanks 👍

user48 AHHHH i love y/n

logansargeant you and me both

yourusername WHAT?

oscarpiastri that's my sister bro

user48 omg what did i start

alex_albon oh shit

logansargeant urmmmm

yourusername i love you too 😜

carmenmmundt 🥰🥰

THE END 🤍